Köln, in einer eher bescheidenen Gegend –- ein 6-jähriger Junge– afrikanischer Abstammung –- berichtet mit aufgerissenen Augen: 'Meine Mama ist bei der Polizei, sie hat geklaut…' – eine Mitarbeiterin des Jugendamtes betrachtet den Jungen – leichtes Untergewicht – trockene und schürfende Hautstellen – entzündliche Augenpartie – diese traurigen und angsterfüllten Augen – das Jäckchen, das ihn vor der winterlichen Witterung schützen sollte, ist über ein T-Shirt gesteift – der Schieber des Reisverschlusses fehlt – nackte Füße sind aus den mit Schnürsenkeln fehlenden Schuhen sichtbar – Was passiert nun mit dem Jungen? Welche sozialpädagogische Diagnose wird gefällt? Ist es Kindesvernachlässigung oder liegt gar eine Kindeswohlgefährdung vor? Wie hätte man der Mutter helfen können? Wer war verantwortlich für die Familie und das Kind? Und wer ist es nun? Diese und viele weitere Fragen schwirren in den Köpfen der Mitarbeiter der Offenen Ganztagsschule. Nicht selten begegnen sie Kindern, dessen nicht nur äußeres Erscheinungsbild, sondern auch ihre soziale Umgänglichkeit, höchst bedenklich erscheint, doch ist es ein ausreichender Grund für die Annahme, dass das Kind in seinen Lebensbedürfnissen vernachlässigt wird oder ist es doch eine übliche und allgegenwärtige Folge der sozioökonomischen Gesamtsituation – ärmliche Verhältnisse, alleinerziehende Mutter, fehlende familiäre und soziale Unterstützung? Die Tatsache, dass eine Kindesvernachlässigung nicht auf den ersten Blick zu erkennen ist – auch noch nicht mal für den professionell Handelnden, stiftet Unsicherheiten im sozialpädagogischen Handeln. Merkmale, die eine Vernachlässigung aufzeigen können, gibt es (noch) nicht in ihrer Deutlichkeit und nicht in empirisch gesicherter Form. Doch aus den Erfahrungen der Praxis gibt es Anhaltspunkte, die vor allem, wenn diese gehäuft auftreten, ernstzunehmende Hinweise auf eine Kindesvernachlässigung geben können. Um einen zielsicheren Blick für Vernachlässigungsfälle zu entwickeln, Anhaltspunke rechtzeitig zu erkennen und richtig deuten zu können, soll diese Arbeit im ersten Schritt das Grundwissen über Kindesvernachlässigung vermitteln. Neben der Begriffbestimmung 'Kindesvernachlässigung' und Erläuterung der einzelnen Kategorien, in der ein Kind unzureichend versorgt werden kann bzw. die Benennung der Lebensbedürfnisse, die erfüllt werden sollen, um eine gesunde Entwicklung der Kindes zu gewährleisten, werden auch die einzelnen Formen von Vernachlässigungen benannt. Die in darauffolgendem Kapitel genannten Risikofaktoren und anschließende Aufarbeitung möglicher Folgen können bei der Urteilsbildung, ob eine Gefährdungslage eines Kindes gegeben ist, eine entscheidende Rolle übernehmen. Denn Erkennungszeichen spiegeln sich nicht nur im unmittelbaren Verhalten (Agieren und Reagieren) der Eltern und des Kindes wieder, sondern auch in der Gegebenheit bestimmter Merkmale von Personen, Situationen oder Beziehungen, die eine Vernachlässigung noch wahrscheinlicher machen. Zu Folgen sollte es im Idealfall nicht kommen, doch deren Eintreten und Erkennbarkeit kann ein letzter Hinweis, ein letztes Signal für physische und/oder psychische Unterversorgung des Kindes sein. Doch auch wenn Anhaltspunkte für eine Vernachlässigung an Deutlichkeit, familiäre Probleme an mehr Transparenz gewinnen und alles als offensichtlich erscheint, wissen viele Sozialpädagogen und -arbeiter nicht damit fachkompetent umzugehen. Ungeklärte Fragen und Wissenslücken in Bezug auf Handlungsbefugnis, aktueller Gesetzeslage, Präventions- und Interventionsmöglichkeiten und effiziente Umsetzbarkeit verhindern ein offensives Herantreten der Fachkräfte an die Betroffenen. Wo doch gerade nicht nur das Erkennen der Problematik, sondern viel mehr die Beratung bzw. die darauffolgenden adäquaten Hilfen ausschlaggebend für eine gelungene Sozialarbeit sind. Im Anschluss an die Auflistung staatlicher Interventionsmöglichkeiten, die zum einen aus finanziell-materiellen Hilfen und zum anderen aus Leistungen der Kinder- und Jugendhilfe bestehen, folgt eine Zusammenfassung der (vergangenen, gegenwärtigen und zukünftigen) politischen Maßnahmen auf Bundes- und Länderebene im Bereich des Kinderschutzes. Eine effektive Hilfe setzt jedoch nicht nur gute theoretische Fachkenntnisse über das aktuelle Rechtssystem und Handlungsabläufe bei Kindesvernachlässigungsfällen voraus, auch eine sicher gehandhabte praktische Ausgestaltung ist ein wesentlicher Teil davon. Schwerpunkt dieser Arbeit ist das Handeln in der Sozialen Arbeit, das kleinschrittige Verfahren bei Anhaltspunkten einer Kindesvernachlässigung mit sozialpädagogischen Methoden und Techniken. In diesem Teil der Arbeit, wird jeder notwendige Arbeitsschritt in seinem gesamten Umfang erläutert – mit Hinweisen und Ratschlägen und unter Einbezug hilfreicher Methoden und Instrumente.Inhaltsverzeichnis:Inhaltsverzeichnis: Inhaltsverzeichnis2 Abbildungsverzeichnis5 Tabellenverzeichnis5 Abkürzungsverzeichnis6 Einleitung8 1.Begriffsbestimmung10 2.Lebensbedürfnisse eines Kindes12 3.Formen von Vernachlässigung16 3.1Körperliche Vernachlässigung17 3.2Kognitive und erzieherische Vernachlässigung18 3.3Sozial – emotionale Vernachlässigung19 4.Risikofaktoren für eine Gefährdungslage24 4.1Persönliche Faktoren der Erziehungsperson26 4.1.1Eigene negative Kindheitserlebnisse26 4.1.2Persönlichkeitsmerkmale27 4.1.3Chronische Erkrankungen28 4.2Risikofaktoren des Kindes29 4.3Familiärer Risikofaktoren31 4.4Sozioökonomische Situation35 5.Mögliche Folgen von Vernachlässigung39 5.1Körperliche Symptome und Fehlentwicklungen39 5.2Kognitive Fehlentwicklungen41 5.3Psychosoziale Schäden und Fehlentwicklungen41 6.Interventionsmöglichkeiten und ihre rechtlichen Grundlagen44 6.1Finanzielle und materielle Hilfen44 6.2Leistungen und Aufgaben der Jugendhilfe47 6.2.1Hilfeplanung48 6.2.2Ambulante Hilfen48 6.2.3Anrufung des Gerichts50 6.2.4Inobhutnahme und Fremdunterbringung51 7.Gesetznovellierungen und politische Maßnahmen52 7.1Gesetzliche Regelungen und Gesetznovellierungen im Bereich des Kinderschutzes auf Bundesebene52 7.2Landesgesetzliche Regelungen in Bereich des Kinderschutzes und der Gesundheitsvorsorge54 7.2.1Basiselement: kinderärztliche Früherkennungsuntersuchungen55 7.2.2Weitere länderspezifische Maßnahmen zur Qualifizierung des Kinderschutzes60 7.2.3Meldesysteme: Datenweitergabe an die Jugendämter66 8.Handeln in der Sozialen Arbeit– methodische Herangehensweise sozialpädagogischer Fachkräfte68 8.1Umgang mit (Fremd-)Meldung68 8.2Systemische Informationssammlung und Verarbeitung71 8.3Kontaktaufnahme und Datenrekonstruktion75 8.4Einschätzung und Bewertung der Fallsituation81 8.5Fachliche Diagnose und Umsetzung sozialpädagogischer Hilfs- und Interventionsstrategien84 8.6Bewertung der Hilfe- und Veränderungsprozesse88 Ausblick91 Literaturverzeichnis93 Anhang97 Anlage I – Rechtliche Grundlage97 Anlage II – Abbildungen101 Anlage III – Auszug aus ICD-10 Internationale Klassifikation der Krankheiten (WHO-Version 2006)102 Anlage IV – Früherkennungsuntersuchungen für Kinder (U1 – J1)104 Anlage V – Übersicht zu den landesgesetzlichen Regelungen im Bereich Kinderschutz bzw. Gesundheitsvorsorge106 Anlage VI - Genogramme118 Anlage VII – Prüfbögen120 Meldebogen 'Kindeswohlgefährdung'120 Prüfbogen / Einordnungsschema 'Erfüllung kindlicher Bedürfnisse'126 Einschätzung des Misshandlungs- und Vernachlässigungsrisikos127 Einschätzung des Förderungsbedarfs des Kindes131 Einschätzung der Ressourcen des Kindes134 Einschätzung der Veränderungsfähigkeit der Eltern136 Pflege und Versorgung139 Bindung141 Regeln und Werte144 Förderung147 Anlage VIII – Schutzplan148 Anlage IX – Erstellung des Hilfeplans151 Anlage X – Fortschreibung des Hilfeplans156Textprobe:Textprobe: Kapitel 5, Mögliche Folgen von Vernachlässigung: So vielseitig und vielschichtig Vernachlässigungsformen sein können, so mannigfach und komplex können die Folgen davon sein. Im vorherigen Verlauf dieser Arbeit wurde des Öfteren bei der Erläuterung einiger Vernachlässigungsformen auch ihre Auswirkungen auf die kindliche Entwicklung (Folgen) thematisiert. Hier findet man nun viel mehr eine Ergänzung bzw. eine komplettierte Zusammenfassung. Es ist wichtig in diesem Zusammenhang zu erwähnen, dass es abhängig von der Intensität und/oder Häufigkeit bzw. Dauerhaftigkeit der Vernachlässigung auf allen Entwicklungsebenen des Kindes ist, welche zu erheblichen Defiziten bis hin zu bleibenden Schäden führen kann. Die Folgen sind umso gravierender, je jünger das Kind ist. 5.1, Körperliche Symptome und Fehlentwicklungen: Die körperlichen Anzeichen einer möglichen Vernachlässigung sind auf die Mangel- oder Fehlernährung zurückzuführen. Untergewicht, Übergewicht und Minderwuchs sind deutliche Folgen davon. Aufgrund unzureichender Vitaminenzufuhr kann es z.B. zu schwerster Rachitis (Knochenerweichung aufgrund von Vitamin-D-Mangel), Intelligenzhemmung (durch Eiweiß- und Vitamin-B-Mangel) oder Anämie (Blutarmut durch mangelnde Einsenzufuhr) kommen. Durch das geschwächte Immunsystem besteht eine hohe Infektanfälligkeit, d.h. das Kind leidet häufig an Allergien, Atemwegserkrankungen (insbesondere Bronchitis, Asthma und Pseudokrupp/Krupphusten, Lungenentzündung), Ohrenerkrankungen, Hauterkrankungen etc. Eine falsche oder unzureichende Ernährung kann dazu beitragen, dass das Kind eine gestörte Routine beim Essen, Trinken und Verdauen entwickelt und dies eine konstitutionell-psychische Entwicklungsverzögerung zur Folge hat. So ist das Einnässen (Enuresis) und Einkoten (Enkopresis) auch bei älteren Kindern, obwohl diese aufgrund des Alters/Reife ihre Ausscheidungsorgane steuern könnten, keine Seltenheit. Einige Kinder weisen schwere Ernährungsstörungen auf, in Form von beständiger Angst nicht genügend Essen zu erhalten und verhungern zu müssen. Verhungern kann das Kind im schlimmsten Fall tatsächlich, denn bei ungenügender Kalorienzufuhr ist der Körper gezwungen sich dem Nährstoffmangel anzupassen (Hungeradaptation) und verlangsamt den Stoffwechsel, um 10 – 20 % der ursprünglichen Funktion. Als nächste Maßnahme werden die kurzfristig zur Verfügung stehenden Energiereserven in Anspruch genommen. Nach dem Verbrauch des Glykogens ('Stärke') aus der Leber, Nieren und den Muskeln kommt es zu Eiweißverlust, d.h. u.a. Muskelabbau. Ein länger anhaltender Nahrungsmangel kann zum völligen Kräfteverfall führen (Kachexie). Hält der Zustand der Kachexie längere Zeit an, so kommt es dann – etwa wenn ein Drittel bis die Hälfte des gesamten Körpereiweißes abgebaut ist – zum Tode durch Verhungern. Die Fokussierung körperlicher Symptome einer Vernachlässigung basierend auf Mangel- oder Fehlernährung stützt sich hauptsächlich auf den Inhalt des Buches 'Vernachlässigte Kinder' von K. Gellert (2007). Und auch der nächstfolgende Abschnitt gibt die Hauptinhalte ihres Beitrags wieder. Körperliche Vernachlässigung findet nicht nur in Form von unzureichender oder falscher Ernährung statt, sondern auch in Form von mangelnder Hygiene. Viele Kinder, die an Vernachlässigung leiden, fallen bei zahnärztlichen Untersuchungen durch deutliche Schäden an den Zähnen (erhöhten Kariesbefall) und Zahnfleisch (Zahnfleischentzündungen/Gingivitis) auf. Als Ursachen sehen Fachleute mangelnde Mundhygiene oder eine einseitige und falsche Ernährung (zuckerreiche Nahrung). Erkrankungen im Mundraum können sich zu ernsthaften Infektionen im Körper entwickeln. Doch auch fehlende Hygiene des gesamten Körpers kann zahlreiche Infektionen/Krankheiten durch pathogene Mikroorganismen (Bakterien, Pilze, Viren, Parasiten) verursachen, wie z.B. Pilzbefall der Haut und Atemwege, Warzen, Herpes, Allergien, sowie Durchfall und Erbrechen. Mangelnde Hygiene bei Säuglingen kann auch bedeuten, dass die Windeln unzureichend gewechselt werden und das Kind einem ständigen Kontakt mit Exkrementen und Feuchtigkeit ausgesetzt ist. Dabei können akute Entzündungen der Haut, wie z.B. Windeldermatitis (Windelpilz) entstehen. Betroffen sind die Hautareale, die von der Windel bedeckt sind, also Gesäß, äußere Geschlechtsorgane, Leistenregion und Oberschenkel. Windeldermatitis kann aber auch die Folge einer Krankheit sein, muss demnach nicht zwingend die Ursächlichkeit einer Vernachlässigung haben. Permanenter Kontakt mit ausgekühlter Feuchtigkeit (nasser Bettbezug, nasse Bekleidung) birgt die Gefahr einer Unterkühlung des Säuglings/Kleinkindes. Im Winter, bei schlechter Witterung, wenn das Kind unangepasst bekleidet oder das Kinderzimmer nicht beheizt wird, kann das Kind nicht nur an Unterkühlung erkranken sonder auch daran sterben. Viele gebrechliche Familien mit erhöhter Vernachlässigungstendenz, gekennzeichnet von Arbeitslosigkeit, Armut und Verwahrlosung, sind meist in renovierungs- und sanierungsbedürftigen (Sozial-)Wohnungen zu finden. Die oft damit verbundenen unhygienischen Wohnverhältnisse (hohe Luftfeuchtigkeit, Schimmelbefall, Ungeziefer) bieten Krankheitserregern bzw. -überträgern (Schaben, Fliegen und Flöhe) einen idealen Lebensraum und erhöhen somit die Gefahr einer ernsthaften Infektion/Erkrankung.
Skowron, Jan/0000-0002-2335-1730; Sokolovsky, Kirill/0000-0001-5991-6863; Jovanovic, Miljana D/0000-0003-4298-3247; Harrison, Diana/0000-0001-8687-6588; Esenoglu, Hasan/0000-0003-3531-7510; Bonanos, Alceste Z/0000-0003-2851-1905; Liakos, Alexios/0000-0002-0490-1469; Reig, Pablo/0000-0002-6446-3050; D'Ago, Giuseppe/0000-0001-9697-7331; Martinez, Josep Manel Carrasco/0000-0002-3029-5853; Burgaz, Umut/0000-0003-0126-3999; Wyrzykowski, Lukasz/0000-0002-9658-6151; Lu, Jessica/0000-0001-9611-0009; Jensen, Eric/0000-0002-4625-7333; Chruslinska, Martyna/0000-0002-8901-6994; Mozdzierski, Dawid/0000-0002-3861-9031; Ranc, Clement/0000-0003-2388-4534; G. C., Anupama/0000-0003-3533-7183; Strobl, Jan/0000-0002-4147-2878; Russell, David/0000-0002-3500-631X; Pawlak, Michal/0000-0002-5632-9433; BAKIS, VOLKAN/0000-0002-3125-9010; Seabroke, George/0000-0003-4072-9536; Sitek, Monika/0000-0002-1568-4551; Kilic, Yucel/0000-0001-8641-0796; Netzel, Henryka/0000-0001-5608-0028; Nesci, Roberto/0000-0002-6645-6372; Iwanek, Patryk/0000-0002-6212-7221; Leto, Giuseppe/0000-0002-0040-5011; Awiphan, Supachai/0000-0003-3251-3583; Norton, Andrew/0000-0001-7619-8269; Kolb, Ulrich/0000-0001-8670-8365; Altavilla, Giuseppe/0000-0002-9934-1352; Itoh, Ryosuke/0000-0002-1183-8955; Gromadzki, Mariusz/0000-0002-1650-1518; Szegedi, Helene/0000-0002-9904-3582; Baker, Steven/0000-0002-6436-1257; Zielinski, Pawel/0000-0001-6434-9429; Kurowski, Sebastian/0000-0002-1557-0343 ; WOS:000508411900001 ; Gaia16aye was a binary microlensing event discovered in the direction towards the northern Galactic disc and was one of the first microlensing events detected and alerted to by the Gaia space mission. Its light curve exhibited five distinct brightening episodes, reaching up to I = 12 mag, and it was covered in great detail with almost 25 000 data points gathered by a network of telescopes. We present the photometric and spectroscopic follow-up covering 500 days of the event evolution. We employed a full Keplerian binary orbit microlensing model combined with the motion of Earth and Gaia around the Sun to reproduce the complex light curve. The photometric data allowed us to solve the microlensing event entirely and to derive the complete and unique set of orbital parameters of the binary lensing system. We also report on the detection of the first-ever microlensing space-parallax between the Earth and Gaia located at L2. The properties of the binary system were derived from microlensing parameters, and we found that the system is composed of two main-sequence stars with masses 0.57 +/- 0.05 M-circle dot and 0.36 +/- 0.03 M-circle dot at 780 pc, with an orbital period of 2.88 years and an eccentricity of 0.30. We also predict the astrometric microlensing signal for this binary lens as it will be seen by Gaia as well as the radial velocity curve for the binary system. Events such as Gaia16aye indicate the potential for the microlensing method of probing the mass function of dark objects, including black holes, in directions other than that of the Galactic bulge. This case also emphasises the importance of long-term time-domain coordinated observations that can be made with a network of heterogeneous telescopes. ; Polish National Sci-ence Centre (NCN): HARMONIA NCN grant [2015/18/M/ST9/00544]; Polish National Sci-ence Centre (NCN): OPUS NCN grant [2015/17/B/ST9/03167]; Polish National Sci-ence Centre (NCN): DAINA NCN grant [2017/27/L/ST9/03221]; European CommissionEuropean CommissionEuropean Commission Joint Research Centre [312430, 730890]; Polish Ministry of Higher EducationMinistry of Science and Higher Education, Poland [3040/7.PR/2014/2, DIR/WK/2018/12]; MAESTRO NCN grant [2014/14/A/ST9/00121]; DDT programmes [SW2016b12, A34DDT3]; UK Science and Technology Facilities CouncilUK Research & Innovation (UKRI)Science & Technology Facilities Council (STFC); Foundation for Polish Science (Program START); National Science Center, PolandNational Science Centre, Poland [ETIUDA 2018/28/T/ST9/00096]; Slovenian Research AgencySlovenian Research Agency - Slovenia [P1-0031, J1-8136]; COST Action GWverseEuropean Cooperation in Science and Technology (COST) [CA16104]; National Research Foundation of KoreaNational Research Foundation of Korea [2017R1A4A1015178]; STFCUK Research & Innovation (UKRI)Science & Technology Facilities Council (STFC); European Space Agency under the NELIOTA program [4000112943]; GROWTH project - National Science Foundation [1545949]; MINECO (Spanish Ministry of Economy) [ESP2016-80079-C2-1-R, ESP2014-55996-C2-1-R, RTI2018-095076B-C21]; ICCUB (Unidad de Excelencia a Maria de Maeztu) [MDM-2014-0369]; Agenzia Spaziale Italiana (ASI)Agenzia Spaziale Italiana (ASI) [ASI I/058/10/0, ASI 2014-025-R.1.2015]; Royal Society Research GrantRoyal Society of London [RG170230]; Ministry of Science and Technology (Taiwan)Ministry of Science and Technology, Taiwan [104-2112-M-008-012MY3, 104-2923-M-008-004-MY5]; European Research Council under the European Union's Seventh Framework Programme (FP/2007-2013)/ERC Grant [320964]; Gordon and Betty Moore FoundationGordon and Betty Moore Foundation [GBMF5490]; NSFNational Science Foundation (NSF) [AST-1515927, AST-0908816, AST-1412587]; Mt. Cuba Astronomical Foundation; Center for Cosmology and AstroParticle Physics at the Ohio State UniversityOhio State University; Chinese Academy of Sciences South America Center for Astronomy (CAS-SACA); Villum Foundation; MINECO under the Ramon y Cajal programme [RYC-2016-20254]; MINECO [AYA2017-86274-P]; AGAUR grantAgencia de Gestio D'Ajuts Universitaris de Recerca Agaur (AGAUR) [SGR-661/2017]; Science and Technology Facilities CouncilUK Research & Innovation (UKRI)Science & Technology Facilities Council (STFC) [ST/P000541/1]; STFC consolidated grant [ST/M001296/1]; Research Council of LithuaniaResearch Council of Lithuania (LMTLT) [S-LL-19-2]; TUB.ITAKTurkiye Bilimsel ve Teknolojik Arastirma Kurumu (TUBITAK); IKI; KFU; AST; National Science Fund (Bulgaria)National Science Fund of Bulgaria [DN 18/13-12.12.2017]; Institute of Astronomy via research project "Study of ICRF radio-sources and fast variable astronomical objects"; NAO Rozhen, BAS, via research project "Study of ICRF radio-sources and fast variable astronomical objects"; Ministry of Education, Science and Technological Development of the Republic of Serbia [176011, 176004, 176021]; DFGGerman Research Foundation (DFG)European Commission [SPP 1992, WA 1074/11-1]; NCN [2016/21/B/ST9/01126]; MINECO Ramon y Cajal programme [AYA2017-86274-P, RYJ-2016-20254]; Robert Martin Ayers Sciences Fund; National Aeronautics and Space AdministrationNational Aeronautics & Space Administration (NASA) [NNX08AR22G]; National Science FoundationNational Science Foundation (NSF) [AST-1238877]; W. M. Keck FoundationW.M. Keck Foundation; ICCUB (Unidad de Excelencia 'Maria de Maeztu') [MDM-2014-0369]; [3.6714.2017/8.9] ; This work relies on the results from the European Space Agency (ESA) space mission Gaia. Gaia data are being processed by the Gaia Data Processing and Analysis Consortium (DPAC). Funding for the DPAC is provided by national institutions, in particular the institutions participating in the Gaia Multi-Lateral Agreement (MLA). The Gaia mission website is https://www.cosmos.esa.int/gaia.In particular we acknowledge Gaia Photomet-ric Science Alerts Team, website http://gsaweb.ast.cam.ac.uk/alerts.We thank the members of the OGLE team for discussions and support. We also would like to thank the Polish Children Fund (KFnRD) for support of an internship of their pupils in Ostrowik Observatory of the Warsaw Univ-ersity, during which some of the data were collected, in particular we thank: Robert Nowicki, Michal Por.ebski and Karol Niczyj. The work presented here has been supported by the following grants from the Polish National Sci-ence Centre (NCN): HARMONIA NCN grant 2015/18/M/ST9/00544, OPUS NCN grant 2015/17/B/ST9/03167, DAINA NCN grant 2017/27/L/ST9/03221, as well as European Commission's FP7 and H2020 OPTICON grants (312430 and 730890), Polish Ministry of Higher Education support for OPTICON FP7, 3040/7.PR/2014/2, MNiSW grant DIR/WK/2018/12. PMr and JS acknowledge support from MAESTRO NCN grant 2014/14/A/ST9/00121 to Andrzej Udal-ski. We would like to thank the following members of the AAVSO for their amazing work with collecting vast amounts of data: Teofilo Arranz, James Boardman, Stephen Brincat, Geoff Chaplin, Emery Erdelyi, Rafael Farfan, William Goff, Franklin Guenther, Kevin Hills, Jens Jacobsen, Raymond Kneip, David Lane, Fernando Limon Martinez, Gianpiero Locatelli, Andrea Mantero, Attila Madai, Peter Meadows, Otmar Nickel, Arto Oksanen, Luis Perez, Roger Pieri, Ulisse Quadri, Diego Rodriguez Perez, Frank Schorr, George Sjoberg, Andras Timar, Ray Tomlin, Tonny Vanmunster, Klaus Wenzel, Thomas Wikander. We also thank the amateur observers from around the world, in particular, Pietro Capuozzo, Leone Trascianelli, Igor Zharkov from Ardingly College and Angelo Tomassini, Karl-Ludwig Bath. We also thank Roger Pickard from the British Astronomical Association and Matthias Penselin from the German Haus der Astronomie association for their contributions. KS thanks Dr. Dmitry Chulkov and Dr. Panagiotis Gavras for the interesting discussion of stellar multiplicity. We acknowledge support of DDT programmes SW2016b12 (WHT) and A34DDT3 (TNG). The INT, TNG and WHT are operated on the island of La Palma by the Isaac Newton Group of Telescopes in the Spanish Observatorio del Roque de los Muchachos of the Instituto de Astrofisica de Canarias. The Liverpool Telescope is operated on the island of La Palma by Liverpool John Moores University in the Spanish Observatorio del Roque de los Muchachos of the Instituto de Astrofisica de Canarias with financial support from the UK Science and Technology Facilities Council. SJF would like to thank the UCL students who assisted with the collection and checking of UCLO data for the observing campaign: Martina Aghopian, Ashleigh Arendt, Artem Barinov, Luke Barrett, Jasper Berry-Gair, Arjun Bhogal, Charles Bowesman, William Boyd, Andrei Cuceu, Michael Davies, Max Freedman, Gabriel Fu, Abirami Govindaraju, Iandeep Hothi, Clara Matthews Torres, Darius Modirrousta-Galian, Petru Neague, George Pattinson, Xiaoxi Song, and Brian Yu. P.Mr. acknowledges support from the Foundation for Polish Science (Program START) and the National Science Center, Poland (grant ETIUDA 2018/28/T/ST9/00096).; r r AC, AG and NI acknowledge the financial support from the Slovenian Research Agency (research core funding No. P1-0031 and project grant No. J1-8136)and networking support by the COST Action GWverse CA16104. Skinakas Observatory is a collaborative project of the University of Crete and the Foundation for Research and Technology-Hellas. Work by C.H. was supported by the grant (2017R1A4A1015178) of National Research Foundation of Korea. KW acknowledges funding from STFC, and thanks the University of Lei-cester for the investment in instrumentation. We gratefully acknowledge financial support by the European Space Agency under the NELIOTA program, contract No. 4000112943. This work has made use of data obtained with the Kryoneri Prime Focus Instrument, developed by the European Space Agency NELIOTA project on the 1.2 m Kryoneri telescope, which is operated by IAASARS, National Observatory of Athens, Greece. The Aristarchos tele-scope is operated on Helmos Observatory by the IAASARS of the National Observatory of Athens. This work was supported by the GROWTH project funded by the National Science Foundation under Grant No 1545949. This work was supported by the MINECO (Spanish Ministry of Economy) through grant ESP2016-80079-C2-1-R (MINECO/FEDER, UE) and ESP2014-55996-C2-1-R (MINECO/FEDER, UE) and MDM-2014-0369 of ICCUB (Unidad de Excelencia a Maria de Maeztu). This work was supported by the MINECO (Spanish Ministry of Economy) through grant ESP2016-80079-C2-1-R and RTI2018-095076B-C21 (MINECO/FEDER, UE), and MDM-2014-0369 of ICCUB (Unidad de Excelencia 'Maria de Maeztu'). The Joan Oro Telescope (TJO) of the Montsec Astronomical Observatory (OAdM) is owned by the Catalan Government and is operated by the Institute for Space Studies of Catalonia (IEEC). Support to this study has been provided by Agenzia Spaziale Italiana (ASI) through grants ASI I/058/10/0 and ASI 2014-025-R.1.2015. KW thanks Dipali Thanki and Ray McErlean for their technical support of the scientific programme of the University of Leicester observatory. This work was supported by Royal Society Research Grant RG170230. CCN thanks the funding from Ministry of Science and Technology (Taiwan) under the contracts 104-2112-M-008-012MY3 and 104-2923-M-008-004-MY5. The research leading to these results has received funding from the European Research Council under the European Union's Seventh Framework Programme (FP/2007-2013)/ERC Grant Agreement n. 320964 (WDTracer). We thank the Las Cumbres Observatory and its sta ff for its continuing support of the project. ASAS-SN is supported by the Gordon and Betty Moore Foundation through grant GBMF5490 to the Ohio State University and NSF grant AST-1515927. Development of ASAS-SN has been supported by NSF grant AST-0908816, the Mt. Cuba Astronomical Foundation, the Center for Cosmology and AstroParticle Physics at the Ohio State University, the Chinese Academy of Sciences South America Center for Astronomy (CAS-SACA), the Villum Foundation, and George Skestos. ARM acknowledges support from the MINECO under the Ramon y Cajal programme (RYC-2016-20254) and the AYA2017-86274-P grant, and the AGAUR grant SGR-661/2017. We acknowledge support from the Science and Technology Facilities Council (TB and RWW; ST/P000541/1). K.Horne acknowledges support from STFC consolidated grant ST/M001296/1. This work was partly supported by the Research Council of Lithuania, grant No. S-LL-19-2 Authors thank to TUB.ITAK, IKI, KFU, and AST for partial supports in using RTT150 (Russian-Turkish 1.5-m telescope in Antalya).; r r This work was partially funded by the subsidy 3.6714.2017/8.9 allocated to Kazan Federal University for the state assignment in the sphere of scientific activities. This research was partially supported by contract DN 18/13-12.12.2017 with the National Science Fund (Bulgaria). Work by YS was supported by an appointment to the NASA Postdoctoral Program at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, California Institute of Technology, administered by Uni-versities Space Research Associ-ation through a contract with NASA. GD gratefully acknowledges the obser-ving grant support from the Institute of Astronomy and NAO Rozhen, BAS, via bilateral joint research project "Study of ICRF radio-sources and fast variable astronomical objects" (PI:G.Damljanovic). This work is a part of the Projects no. 176011 "Dynamics and kinematics of celestial bodies and systems", no. 176004 "Stellar physics" and no. 176021 "Visible and invisible matter in nearby galaxies: theory and observations" supported by the Ministry of Education, Science and Technological Development of the Republic of Serbia. YT acknowledges the support of DFG priority program SPP 1992 "Exploring the diversity of Extrasolar Planets" (WA 1074/11-1). This work of PMi, DM and ZK was supported by the NCN grant no. 2016/21/B/ST9/01126. ARM acknowledges support from the MINECO Ramon y Cajal programme RYJ-2016-20254 and grant AYA2017-86274-P and from the AGAUR grant SGR-661/2017. The work by C. R. was supported by an appointment to the NASA Postdoctoral Program at the Goddard Space Flight Center, administered by USRA through a contract with NASA. The Faulkes Telescope Project is an education partner of Las Cumbres Observatory (LCO). The Faulkes Telescopes are maintained and operated by LCO. This research was made possible through the use of the AAVSO Photomet-ric All-Sky Survey (APASS), funded by the Robert Martin Ayers Sciences Fund and NSF AST-1412587. The Pan-STARRS1 Surveys (PS1) and the PS1 public science archive have been made possible through contributions by the Institute for Astronomy, the University of Hawaii, the Pan-STARRS Project O ffice, the Max-Planck Society and its participating institutes, the Max Planck Institute for Astronomy, Heidelberg and the Max Planck Institute for Extraterrestrial Physics, Garching, The Johns Hopkins University, Durham University, the University of Edinburgh, the Queen's University Belfast, the Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics, the Las Cumbres Observatory Global Telescope Network Incor-porated, the National Central University of Taiwan, the Space Telescope Sci-ence Institute, the National Aeronautics and Space Administration under Grant No. NNX08AR22G issued through the Planetary Science Division of the NASA Science Mission Directorate, the National Science Foundation Grant No. AST-1238877, the University of Maryland, Eotvos Lorand University (ELTE), the Los Alamos National Laboratory, and the Gordon and Betty Moore Foundation. Some of the data presented herein were obtained at the W. M. Keck Observatory, which is operated as a scientific partnership among the California Ins-titute of Technology, the University of California and the National Aeronautics and Space Administration. The Observatory was made possible by the generous financial support of the W. M. Keck Foundation.
Abstract - The genus Bursaphelenchus comprises almost 100 species mainly from the northern hemisphere, with conifers as the most important hosts. Among the various nematode species, the pine wood nematode (PWN), Bursaphelenchus xylophilus, is the casual agent of pine wilt disease (PWD), and the most important forest pest for pines worldwide, classified as an A1 quarantine organism within the European Union. In 1999 this nematode was detected for the first time in Portugal and Europa associated with maritime pine, Pinus pinaster. Following detection, a national program denominated "Programa Nacional de Luta contra o Nemátodo da Madeira do Pinheiro" (PROLUNP) was created to, among other objectives, determine the distribution of the PWN and its associated vector(s) and host(s), and therefore intensive surveys covering the entire country were conducted with thousands of wood samples and suspected insects being analyzed. This thesis presents the listing, distribution, frequency and the insects associated with Bursaphelenchus species found associated with maritime pine in Portugal, identifying and characterizing the various species by morphological, biometrical and molecular biology (ITS-RFLP and rDNA sequencing analysis) techniques. To achieve the objectives, a total of 4813 maritime pine wood samples and 3294 insects from 22 species and six families were individually analyzed. A total of nine Bursaphelenchus species were found, namely: B. antoniae, B. hellenicus, B. leoni, B. mucronatus, B. pinasteri, B. sexdentati, B. teratospicularis, B. tusciae and B. xylophilus, all of them (with the exception of B. xylophilus) being new records for Portugal. Some of the species appear to have a widespread distribution, such as B. leoni, B. teratospicularis and B. tusciae while others were very rarely found and apparently have a localized distribution range within the country, namely B. antoniae and B. mucronatus. The majority of the species is characteristic of the Mediterranean region and can also be found in countries such as Spain, Italy and Greece, reflecting the affinity of our fauna with those locations. The association of B. hellenicus and B. tusciae with maritime pine is here reported for the first time. Six of the Bursaphelenchus species were also found associated with insects, mainly from the family Scolytidae (Coleoptera). Some of these interactions were described for the first time, namely: B. hellenicus with both Ips sexdentatus and Hylurgus ligniperda, B. sexdentati with both H. ligniperda and Orthotomicus erosus and B. tusciae with H. ligniperda. The exclusive association of B. xylophilus with the cerambycid Monochamus galloprovincialis was also confirmed. The nematode's dauer juveniles were usually found in low numbers in the insect vectors (ca 10-100 per insect), although for B. xylophilus a few thousand specimens per insect were sometimes found. The location of the dauer juveniles differed according to the species, although they were more common under the elytra and wings of the adult insects. A species new to science was detected and formally described as B. antoniae, associated with Hylobius sp. (Coleoptera; Curculionidae) beetles. Morphologically, this new species is very similar to B. hylobianum, although it's distinct ITS-RFLP molecular pattern (with only the enzyme Haelll producing comparable restriction bands) and the failure of hybridization supported the two species as distinct entities. Additional phylogenetic analysis of the 18S rDNA sequence further supported the taxonomical proximity of B. antoniae with B. hylobianum. Concerning the PWN, detailed studies on the development and morphology of B. xylophilus were conducted, and comparative measurements of field-collected and laboratory-maintained populations demonstrated that nematodes from the second group displayed larger size in all morphometric parameters, which could derive from more adequate conditions of nourishment and/or temperature. Taxonomical studies on the development stages of B. xylophilus confirmed the existence of four propagative juvenile stages (J1,J2,J3 and J4), an adult stage with both sexes and two dispersal stages (jIII e jIV), with the measurements of the gonad length allowing the separation of the propagative stages. It is hoped that the acquired knowledge will be useful on future surveys of nematodes of the Bursaphelenchus genus collected from either wood material or insect vectors, and facilitate the correct distinction and identification of the various species which are now known to occur. ### Resumo - 0 género Bursaphelenchus compreende quase 100 espécies, distribuídas sobretudo nos países do hemisfério norte do globo terrestre. Embora algumas espécies já tenham sido detectadas em plantas herbáceas, os hospedeiros vegetais mais comuns deste género são as coníferas, particularmente pinheiros. 0 nemátode da madeira do pinheiro (NMP), Bursaphelenchus xylophilus, é considerado a espécie mais importante deste género uma vez que é o agente causal da doença da murchidão dos pinheiros ("pine wilt disease"). Originário dos Estados Unidos, onde não causa grande impacte, o NMP foi introduzido em alguns países da Ásia (China, Japão, Coreia e Taiwan) e mais recentemente na Europa (Portugal). Nestas regiões é responsável pela destruição de milhares de hectares de coníferas, assumindo uma elevada importância económica. Em Portugal, depois da sua detecção em 1999, associado a Pinus pinaster, foi implementado um programa nacional "Programa Nacional de Luta contra o Nemátodo da Madeira do Pinheiro" (PROLUNP) que permitiu determinar a área afectada pela praga (a sul do rio Tejo, península de Setúbal) bem como definir e implementar estratégias de controlo e prevenção da disseminação do NMP a outras zonas de Portugal. Recentemente, em Junho de 2008, foi confirmada a presença de B. xylophilus em outras regiões de Portugal levando as autoridades oficiais a definir todo o território continental como zona afectada e de restrição. As prospecções intensivas realizadas nos últimos anos incluíram a recolha e análise de milhares de amostras de madeira de pinheiro bem como de insectos associados ao pinheiro bravo conduzindo à identificação de várias espécies de Bursaphelenchus. Assim, os estudos conduzidos neste trabalho tiveram como objectivos efectuar uma caracterização morfológica, biométrica e molecular das espécies associadas a P. pinaster em Portugal bem como a sua distribuição geográfica e abundância. Os estudos biométricos foram realizados com populações extraídas directamente do meio natural. Foi ainda realizada uma pesquisa que permitiu identificar os insectos a que estão associadas essas espécies, os seus possíveis vectores. Foram analisadas no total 4813 amostras de P. pinaster e 3294 insectos (22 espécies pertencentes a seis famílias diferentes). Foram identificadas um total de nove espécies: B. antoniae n. sp., B. hellenicus, B. leoni, B. mucronatus, B. pinasteri, B. sexdentati, B. teratospicularis, B. tusciae e B. xylophilus. Foram realizados estudos morfológicos e biométricos de todas as espécies com excepção de B. mucronatus; o reduzido número de exemplares encontrados em apenas uma amostra foram utilizados para efectuar o diagnóstico molecular desta espécie (ITS-RFLP). Apesar de ter havido, sempre que possível, a confirmação molecular, na maioria dos casos a caracterização morfológica e biométrica permitiu a correcta identificação das espécies. Contudo, foi imprescindível a análise molecular em algumas amostras, nomeadamente para a identificação de B. xylophilus e B. sexdentati; dada a grande semelhança entre B. xylophilus e B. mucronatus e tendo sido encontradas algumas populações de B. xylophilus que possuíam fêmeas com cauda mucronada, foi necessária a realização da confirmação molecular. Com excepção de B. xylophilus, todas as outras espécies foram reportadas pela primeira vez em Portugal. Juntamente com B. xylophilus, B. pinasteri foi a espécie encontrada nas amostras de madeira de pinheiro com maior frequência. Algumas destas espécies como B. leoni, B. teratospicularis e B. tusciae foram reportadas em diferentes localidades do norte, centro e sul de Portugal, apresentando uma vasta distribuição geográfica; este resultado está em consonância com a forte associação destas espécies a climas mediterrânicos tal como acontece em Espanha, França, Itália e Grécia. Em oposição, espécies como B. antoniae e B. mucronatus foram encontradas apenas numa ocasião na região centro (Leiria) e norte (Figueira da Foz) do país, respectivamente. Bursaphelenchus mucronatus é igualmente pouco frequente em Espanha onde ocorre sobretudo na região norte, na Galiza. Esta espécie preferirá climas mais frios, ocorrendo com uma maior frequência nas regiões de latitude norte; esta análise é corroborada pela presença constante em países como Alemanha, Finlândia, França, Noruega, Rússia e Suécia. A nível mundial são descritas neste trabalho pela primeira vez as associações das espécies B. hellenicus e B. tusciae ao hospedeiro vegetal P. pinaster.
CAPITOLO 1 Caratteristiche delle schede Le schede utilizzate oltre a mettere a disposizione un numero di risorse di elaborazione congruo all'applicazione, devono essere dotate di bus ad elevato parallelismo e devono poter operare ad alte frequenze. L'architettura del sistema di comunicazione per lo scambio dei dati entro la scheda assume un'importanza fondamentale. Oltre l'esigenza di garantire elevati bit rate, al sistema di comunicazione si richiede di occupare un numero di risorse accettabile. Le applicazioni in tempo reale richiedono che i sottosistemi di input mantengano il ritmo del flusso di dati dagli output dei sensori. In funzione dell'applicazione, un singolo FPGA può sostituire dieci o più processori RISC. In generale, date le notevoli varietà di ambiti di applicazione, la distinzione tra DSP in virgola mobile ("floating-point", in genere a 32 bits) e DSP in virgola fissa ("fixed-point", in genere a 16 bits) risulta fondamentale. . Per implementare le funzioni DSP, le due tecniche più diffuse sfruttano i DSP general-purpose oppure gli FPGA. I dispositivi Virtex II Pro di Xilinx si interfacciano con varie interfacce di sensori consentendo al flusso dati di entrare e uscire dall'FPGA a velocità elevate. CAPITOLO 2 Le schede 2.1 C6713Compact La C6713Compact della Orsys monta un DSP della Texas Instruments TMS320C6713 del tipo floating point che lavora a 225MHz arrivando ad una potenza di calcolo di 1350MFLOPS appoggiato da una RAM interna di 256kB. Connettore JTAG Il connettore JTAG viene usato durante lo sviluppo delle applicazioni, ed è associato alle interfacce JTAG di DSP e FPGA; pertanto è usato sia nella fase di debugging, sia per il download di applicazioni nel DSP, sia per il salvataggio nella memoria flash di codice per il DSP o per la programmazione dell'FPGA. Esso diventa uno strumento molto versatile grazie alla flessibilità delle connessioni permesse dalla scheda: in particolare esiste la possibilità di legare molti dei pin di ingresso/uscita dell'FPGA a quelli del connettore micro-line e all'interfaccia del DSP. Memoria esterna SDRAM La C6713Compact utilizza una memoria esterna SDRAM da 64Mbyte, organizzata a 32 bit. L'accesso alla memoria esterna avviene tramite l'EMIF clock, a 90MHz. Il PLD, tramite i suoi registri, permette di accedere alle varie parti hardware della scheda e di configurarne alcune opzioni. EEPROM seriale E' presente sulla scheda anche una memoria EEPROM seriale di 256 byte, integrata col sensore di temperatura della board. Il Watchdog Timer è di default disabilitato: per attivarlo basterà porre ad 1 il bit numero 4 del registro di configurazione WDG_PHRST del PLD. Periferiche del DSP Il DSP montato sulla C6713Compact possiede un gran numero di periferiche integrate. • Connettore micro-line attraverso bus driver. Di default, i segnali delle porte McBSP sono connessi al bus micro-line. Timers Il DSP TMS320C6713 contiene 2 timer indipendenti, a 32 bit. L'host processor e il DSP possono così scambiare dati sia attraverso la memoria interna del DSP, sia attraverso la memoria montata sulla board. La connessione tra l'host e lo spazio di memoria del DSP è assicurata da un meccanismo DMA. Interrupts Quattro interrupt non mascherabili ed uno mascherabile permettono ai dispositivi della scheda o ad eventuali periferiche esterne di interrompere il programma corrente del DSP e saltare ad una routine di servizio dedicata all'interruzione. A queste risorse fisse vanno aggiunte dei moduli inseribili dall'utente che contengono elementi di elaborazione vari: memorie RAM, FIFO (First-In First-Out), FPGA, DSP (Digital Signal Processor). Nallatech Ballynuey2 Il connettore PCI si interfaccia dal lato interno della scheda con un FPGA Xilinx 4000XLA, preprogrammato tramite una memoria PROM; questo FPGA, detto PCI FPGA, ha il compito principale di controllore per il connettore PCI. I dati scambiati con il PC host vengono trasferiti dal PCI FPGA ad un'altro FPGA detto User FPGA o On Board FPGA. Lo User FPGA presente sulla scheda in dotazione è uno Xilinx Virtex-E XCV600. Il Backplate IO connector può essere usato per collegare la scheda ad altri dispositivi hardware esterni; il connettore è del tipo a 68 piedini. Il clock della memoria ZBT viene fornito dallo User FPGA, e deriva da uno dei tre clock della scheda entranti nell' On Board FPGA. Moduli DIME e struttura dei Bus I moduli DIME (DSP and Image Processing Module for Enhanced FPGA), sono i principali elementi di elaborazione a disposizione della Ballynuey. Il SYS Bus è adibito al trasporto esclusivo di segnali di dato, non può essere usato ad esempio per portare segnali di clock da un punto all'altro del sistema. Generalmente questo Bus viene diviso in due bus a 32 bit: Il bus SYSVIN (System Video In) e il bus SYSVOUT (System Video Out). Il GEN IO Bus (Generic Input Output Bus) ha caratteristiche molto simili al SYS Bus. Il bus ADJ (Adjacent bus) connette ogni modulo DIME con gli altri due moduli DIME adiacenti. Si divide in due bus, entrambi con parallelismo 32, detti ADJVIN (Adjacent Video In Bus) e ADJVOUT (Adjacent Video Out Bus). Il Bus ADJVIN di un modulo DIME corrisponde al bus ADJVOUT del modulo DIME precedente; ovviamente il bus ADJVOUT di un modulo DIME corrisponde al bus ADJVIN del modulo DIME successivo. La scheda Ballynuey2 è dotata di tre diverse reti di clock, chiamate SYS CLK, PIX CLK e DSP CLK. La programmazione della frequenza avviene tramite il DIME Configuration Software GUI oppure tramite la funzione DIME Set-Oscillator-Frequency della DIME Software Library. Le reti di reset sono comandate a livello hardware dal PCI FPGA, mentre a livello software dal DIME Configuration Software oppure da funzioni apposite della DIME Software Library. Il modulo BallySharc2 Modulo BallySharc2. Sono presenti tre memorie RAM di dimensioni medio-alte, collegate come periferiche ai DSP e all'FPGA. I DSP ricevono il clock dalla rete del DSP CLK, oppure da un oscillatore al quarzo. Oltre i due bus sopraccitati gli Sharc hanno ognuno sei canali di comunicazione di tipo parallelo a 10 bit, detti Link Port, e due canali di tipo seriale a 6 bit. Un primo canale parallelo si connette ad un header , consentendo la comunicazione fra gli Sharc e dispositivi hardware esterni alla scheda. Il Link Port sul DIME bus del DSP0 si connette allo User FPGA, mentre quello del DSP1 ad un altro modulo DIME. Dei collegamenti seriali, uno connette i DSP fra loro, mentre l'altro è diretto alla DIME FPGA. Il reset agli Sharc arriva direttamente dal CPLD e come si può notare è distinto dal segnale di reset della DIME FPGA, collegato al system reset della scheda, e comandabile via software. Alcuni segnali di controllo dei DSP sono connessi direttamente al BallySharc FPGA. Il primo metodo sfrutta la catena JTAG dei DSP; i segnali μP TDI (Test Data In) e μP TDO (Test Data Out) sono infatti connessi al μP JTAG Connector della scheda Ballynuey2. La DIME FPGA si interfaccia al resto del sistema: oltre il SYS BUS verso lo User FPGA, i bus ADJVIN e ADJVOUT ad altri moduli DIME si hanno 2 SLink, uno diretto allo User FPGA(SLink0) e uno ad un modulo DIME(SLink1), e altri due PLink, diretti a due moduli DIME diversi. La DIME FPGA può connettersi ad un dispositivo esterno tramite il J1 I/O Header. La memoria, divisa in due banchi, è comandata esclusivamente dalla DIME FPGA. Il modulo BallyBlue Oltre il modulo BallySharc sulla scheda Ballynuey2 sono presenti due moduli DIME BallyBlue. Come si può notare solo uno degli FPGA ha accesso ai DIME bus, questo FPGA viene pertanto definito DIME FPGA o primary FPGA, mentre l'altro è detto secondary FPGA. I bus cui ha accesso il DIME FPGA sono quelli più volte citati : SYS BUS, ADJ BUS, GEN IO BUS, 4 PLink e 2 SLink. Diversamente dal modulo BallySharc, tutti i 20 bit del GEN IO BUS sono disponibili per applicazioni utente. I due FPGA sono connessi tramite un bus a 101 bit, completamente programmabile. Il modulo BallyBlue fornisce un segnale di clock indipendente ad entrambe le SDRAM, tramite il secondary FPGA, tuttavia non è conveniente usare regimi di clock diversi, soprattutto ad alte frequenze. Il secondary FPGA può scambiare dati con dispositivi esterni alla scheda tramite un connettore a 49 bit; il collegamento è completamente programmabile dall'utente. La configurazione e la gestione della scheda Ballynuey2 avviene tramite l'uso di pacchetti software eseguiti dal PC host, il quale dialoga con la scheda tramite l'interfaccia PCI. ORUGA Scheda Oruga. La scheda possiede un set molto completo di periferiche per una veloce integrazione del sistema compresi ingressi e uscite digitali, porte dati esterne e sincronismi per più schede. Una modalità di decimazione supporta anche 2 stream concorrenti, uno a bassa velocità e l'altro ad alta velocità per un utilizzo ottimizzato del bus e della banda del CPU così come della CPU host. Oruga è una scheda a 64 bit/33MHz PCI che supporta operazioni burst da 254 Mbyte/s da e per la memoria del PC host, ed è anche compatibile con un bus PCI a 32 bit. La scheda presenta anche numerose caratteristiche per una facile integrazione del sistema: 64 bit di ingresso e uscita digitale d'uso generale, una porta veloce e bidirezionale FIFO esterna per i dati e una porta SyncLink/ClockLink per una facile sincronizzazione di più schede o hardware esterno. Il controllore DMA pilota 16 canali indipendenti che alleggeriscono il carico dati della CPU. Sul chip sono presenti inoltre 2 timer da 32 bit. Le risorse sulla scheda includono una Sdram a 32 Mbyte, 3 timer a 24 bit, una DDS base dei tempi da 0 a 25 MHz, un'interfaccia PCI a 33 MHz con buffer FIFO. Un chip logico della Xilinx controlla i convertitori analogici, i segnali di trigger start-stop e i 32 bit di ingresso-uscita digitali. Il firmware include il buffering FIFO dei dati A/D, la correzione digitale del guadagno e dell'offset e la decimazione dei canali a bassa velocità. Un secondo dispositivo Xilinx pilota l'interfaccia PCI, la matrice di selezione della base dei tempi, l'interfaccia della porta FIFO e gli altri 32 bit di I/O digitali. Per i dati ad alta velocità i segnali di trigger per la base dei tempi possono essere scelti fra molte sorgenti di clock: DDS su scheda, i timer del DSP, i timer logici, clock esterno, un pin SyncLink/ClockLink o da comando software. Il campionamento dei dati è definito con segnali di start e stop che di base applicano una maschera o una finestra sul segnale di clock della base dei tempi. Scheda MVE. L'architettura della scheda è costituita da vari moduli: DSP, FPGA, Memoria, Video input, Video output, I/O analogico, Periferiche. Il DSP è il componente su cui si basa la scheda. Oltre ad una ragguardevole potenza di calcolo, il TMS320C6415 possiede anche abbondanti risorse per l'interfacciamento fra cui: un bus a 64 bit, un bus a 16 bit, un bus PCI a 32 bit, tre seriali sincrone multicanale. Per ultimo, un evoluto controllore DMA a 64 canali permette una complessa gestione del flusso dei dati. Un banco da 4MB, 64-bit, 133MHz di memoria SBSRAM. Un banco da 512MB, 64-bit, 133MHz, di memoria SDRAM, costituita da un modulo DIMM opzionale. Il dispositivo permette inoltre di interfacciare la scheda ad un modulo di pre-processing. Entrambi i buffer sono collocati nella memoria interna del DSP. Infine, i dati sono spostati nel buffer di playback sul processore grafico attraverso il bus PCI. Scheda Quadia. Le altre risorse on chip includono un'interfaccia PCI a 32 bit, due porte McBSP, 64 canali DMA, 3 timer e la porta HPI. Ogni DSP ha una propria SDRAM da 133 Mhz 64 Mb mappata sul bus a 64 bit EMIF-A. Questo ampio bus è la scelta migliore per l'utilizzo della memoria dedicata e per ottimizzare l'andamento dei task. La maggiore innovazione della architettura della Quadia risiede nell'alta connettività fra i DSP, gli FPGA, l'host e l'hardware esterno. DMDK Il nuovo DSP DM642 della Texas Instruments appartiene alla famiglia DigitalMedia che è basata sul potente C64. Si nota al centro della scheda il DSP TMS320DM642 della Texas Instruments con frequenza 600 MHz Una Sdram da 32 Mb con frequenza di lavoro di 133 MHz affiancata a una flash da 4 Mb. Interfaccia seriale per i dati: McASP, I2C. DMCK La scheda DMCK è una scheda completa che usa sia l' FPGA che il DSP, per una vasta gamma di applicazioni, incluse, quelle nel campo video e audio, e applicazioni a banda larga, radiodiffusione, video-sicurezza, campo medico, militare,del trasporto, industriale, ecc. La scheda sfrutta un DSP della Texas Instruments, il DM642, che lavora a 600 MHz, con 32 Mb di Sdram e 4 Mb di memoria Flash. La piattaforma hardware include delle entrate e uscite audio e video, connesse sia al DSP che all'FPGA, così il trattamento dei dati può essere sviluppato su DSP e successivamente portati su FPGA. Quixote. Quixote è una scheda a 64 bit per rilevare, generare e coprocessare segnali; combina un DSP C6416 con un Virtex 2 FPGA, utilizzando il meglio dei due mondi nella tecnologia del processamento del segnale per avere un'estrema flessibilità e efficienza. Quixote 1 è dotato del nuovo DSP TMS320C6416 della Texas Instruments che utilizza l'ultima architettura a virgola fissa a 32 bit nel C6000 series. Lavorando a 1 GHz, questo DSP offre un processamento del segnale a 8000 MIPS. L'interfaccia a 32 bit sul chip PCI è interfacciata all'host bus tramite un ponte PCI e connesso allo SPARTAN 2 e al PMC. L'FPGA è caricato con tutte le funzioni che controllano le sue interfacce come il set up della conversione della base dei tempi, la regolazione digitale del guadagno e dell'offset, l'interpolazione dei dati, il controllo delle FIFO, il controllo della base dei tempi PLL, e il controllo del trigger. Il range della frequenza di uscita è 50-105 MHz. La scheda monta un DSP TMS320C6713 che lavora a 225MHz appoggiato da una memoria di 32 Mb a 100Mhz. Il DSP comunica con un FPGA XC2V3000. La scheda monta un DSP della Texas Instruments, il TMS320C6701, che lavora a 150 MHz arrivando a 1 GFlops. L'FPGA è un VirtexII della Xilinx, con connettore Jtag e 16 Mb di memoria Sdram. CAPITOLO 3 Analisi sistemi ibridi Dsp-Fpga Tutte le schede, descritte si sono dimostrate uno strumento flessibile e potente per la realizzazione di sistemi di elaborazione per applicazioni sia di tipo intrachip che di tipo SoC (System On a Chip), che utilizzano dispositivi DSP e FPGA. Fra le caratteristiche positive delle schede si possono citare: Il numero elevato di risorse di elaborazione programmabili, sia hardware che software. Il numero elevato di risorse di comunicazione (bus) fra i vari dispositivi di tipo FPGA e DSP e la loro disposizione funzionale entro la scheda. La possibilità di trasferire i dati su bus ad elevate frequenze e utilizzando dei protocolli di comunicazione sincroni. La disponibilità di reti di clock indipendenti e programmabili in vari modi, sia per la sorgente del segnale di clock, sia per la frequenza di tale segnale, specialmente nella Nallatech Ballynuey2. La possibilità di gestire le schede da PC host tramite un'ampia libreria di funzioni software. La disponibilità di un ampio numero di connettori su scheda, per l'interfacciamento con dispositivi esterni. Un aspetto negativo che bisogna considerare per quasi tutte le schede è la banda ridotta sul canale di comunicazione fra PC host e scheda (User FPGA), a causa dell'interfaccia PCI a 33 MHz DSP-FPGA L'approccio DSP e quello FPGA si differenziano fortemente; il DSP è un processore specializzato programmato tipicamente in C ma viene usato talvolta anche l'Assembler, specialmente quando non vengono soddisfatte le specifiche di real time. Si adatta molto bene a compiti estremamente complessi ma è limitato nelle prestazioni dalla frequenza di clock e dal numero di operazioni utili che può svolgere ad ogni clock. Come esempio si può prendere in considerazione un TMS320C6201, che ha due moltiplicatori e una frequenza di funzionamento di 200 MHz, così si possono raggiungere 400M moltiplicazioni al secondo. Al contrario un FPGA è un "sea of gates", che viene programmato connettendo i vari gates tra loro per formare multiplexer, registri, sommatori ecc… Tutto questo è svolto a livello di diagramma a blocchi, e molti di questi possono essere di alto livello, si parte da un singolo gate fino ad arrivare a un FIR o FFT. Le prestazioni in questo caso sono limitate dal numero di gates che possiede ciascun FPGA e dalla frequenza di clock, così, per esempio un 200K gate della Virtex con una frequenza di 200 MHz può implementare dieci moltiplicatori da 16 bit. Quando si hanno alte frequenze di campionamento, oltre qualche MHz, un DSP può eseguire solo operazioni molto semplici sui dati mentre un FPGA non ha nessun problema. Con basse frequenze di campionamento la situazione si inverte, il DSP può implementare in maniera massiccia programmi complessi che sarebbero difficili da far eseguire all'FPGA. Infatti a basse frequenze il DSP risulta essere più funzionale, può mettere in coda i vari dati, assicurando che tutti quanti vengano elaborati, anche se sarebbero presenti delle latenze prima di venire trattati. Al contrario l'FPGA non può gestire così tanti dati, ciascuno di essi deve avere un hardware a lui dedicato anche se ogni singolo dato può essere trattato allo stesso tempo degli altri. Se è richiesto un "context swith" il DSP può implementarlo diramandolo a una nuova parte del programma, mentre un FPGA ha bisogno di costruire risorse dedicate per ciascuna configurazione. Se le configurazioni sono piccole allora possono coesistere allo stesso tempo nello stesso FPGA. Configurazioni più grandi fanno sì che l'FPGA abbia bisogno di essere riconfigurato, processo che necessita di molto tempo. Un DSP può prendere un programma standard in C ed eseguirlo. Questo codice C può avere un alto livello di complessità, cosa invece difficile da implementare con un FPGA. Infine un FPGA è programmato come diagrammi a blocchi, dove il flusso dei dati è facilmente osservabile. Un DSP invece è programmato con un flusso sequenziale di istruzioni. Molti sistemi di "signal processing" infatti nascono come diagramma a blocchi. Attualmente riportando il diagramma a blocchi ad un FPGA può risultare più semplice che convertirlo in codice C per il DSP. Quindi quando si deve compiere una scelta fra DSP e FPGA la prima cosa da chiedersi è la frequenza di campionamento della parte del sistema interessata. Se è maggiore di qualche MHz l'FPGA è la scelta naturale. Si analizza se il sistema è già in codice C. Se così è un DSP può implementarlo direttamente; certo non sarà la soluzione con prestazioni migliori ma sarà molto più veloce a svilupparsi. Un'altra cosa importante prima di effettuare una scelta è vedere la frequenza dei dati del sistema. Se è maggiore di 20-30 Mbyte per secondo allora l'FPGA sarà in grado di trattarli nel migliore dei modi. Un aspetto importante che rende bene l'idea della differenza tra i due dispositivi è la presenza o meno di operazioni condizionate. Se non è presente nessuna di queste operazioni allora l'FPGA risulta perfetto. Se invece se ne riscontrano parecchie di queste operazioni un'implementazione software può essere l'ideale. L'FPGA quindi viene usato quando abbiamo di fronte algoritmi ripetitivi mentre algoritmi più irregolari e meno standard vengono trattati con il DSP. Un ulteriore analisi può essere fatta a seconda che il sistema usi o meno floating point. Infatti se così è questo fattore gioca in favore al DSP, nessun "core" della Xilinx ad esempio supporta floating point al giorno d'oggi, sebbene possa essere progettato personalmente. Molti componenti complessi potrebbero non essere disponibili; sia i DSP che gli FPGA offrono librerie con blocchi base a disposizione come blocchi FIR e FFT,e questo può influenzare la decisione su un approccio anziché su un altro. In realtà molti sistemi sono composti da tanti blocchi e, alcuni di questi sono meglio implementati nell'FPGA altri nel DSP. CAPITOLO 4 Tendenze FPGA per applicazioni DSP Un paio d'anni fa era stato scritto che gli FPGA sarebbero entrati prepotentemente nelle applicazioni DSP. Infatti al giorno d'oggi si possono trovare blocchi DSP embedded negli FPGA , ad esempio Stratix di prima generazione dell'Altera. Ora gli FPGA sono divenuti i protagonisti del mercato DSP. Al posto di una matrice di processori DSP, vengono utilizzati in misura sempre maggiore un singolo DSP con un coprocessore FPGA per realizzare le applicazioni di elaborazione del segnale più impegnative. [1] La tendenza appena descritta trova una conferma tangibile nei recenti seminari relativi a Code: DSP focalizzati sui coprocessori basati su FPGA per applicazioni di elaborazione dell'immagine e dei segnali video. DSP Builder, infine, mette a disposizione dei progettisti DSP un flusso di progetto semplice e intuitivo che permette di risolvere i problemi di integrazione e ridurre il time to market.
PEBRUARY, 1901 ooTheoo ettysbiir Mercury CONTENTS The Flight of the Birds 239 The Taking of a United States Census 240 Pan-American Sports 243 A College Romance 244 The Treatment of the Skeptic 246 A Glimpse of Byron 248 Giving 254 Exchanges 255 Editor's Desk 258 The Past Our Present Pilot 259 A Financier (Continued) 263 A Twilight Reverie 266 "Taps" 266 An Era of Progress 268 G'BURG C. LIB. pUPLICATE FAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR US. For Fine. Printing go to Tk Jo Eo Wile ftkilm Staff CARLISLE ST. GETTYSBURG, PA. C. B. Kitzmiller Dealer In Hats, Caps, Boots and Douglas Shoes GETTYSBURG, PA. R. M. Elliott Dealer in Hats, Caps, Shoes and. Gents' Furnishing Goods Corner Center Square and Carlisle Street GETTYSBURG, PA. EDGAR S. MARTIN, ^CIGARS AND SMOKERS' ARTICLES Chambersburs St., Gettysburg Leadership IN THE CLOTHING and MEN'S FURNISHING Business It is strictly here—everybody knows it. Testimony? The stock itself. The pen suffi-ciently nimble to tell all the good points of our ::::::: PALL AND WINTER. SUITS AND OVERCOATS has not been found. We will keep you dressed right up-to-date if you buy your Clothing and Furnishings here. : : : : STINE McPherson Block. No. II BALTIMORE STREET THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. The Literary Journal of Pennsylvania College. Entered at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class matter% VOL. IX. GETTYSBURG. PA., FEBRUARY, 1901. No. 8. THE FLIGHT OF THE BIRDS. MARGARET (HIMES) SEEBACH. Not one by one on lonely wing, They seek afar a sunny clime, When winds a chill from ice-fields bring The sombre Autumn-time; But when the cold rain comes to beat On tattered nest and drooping feather, They rise in rushing flocks, to greet The South-land all together. Not one by one, as single souls, We seek thy sunshine, Land of Light, When o'er our love-lit sky uprolls The first black shade of flight. When Pain comes whispering, " Rise and go I I bring the heart's bleak winter weather," Our pilgrim souls clasp hands, and so We journey home together I 240 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY THE TAKING OF A UNITED STATES CENSUS. C. W. WEISER, '01. HPHE book-agent or peddler may meet with a door slammed in * his face, a couple of cross dogs let loose, or an angry and citrous tongue set wagging ; he may even meet with the toe of a boot, or some missile hurled violently at him—poor man ! But the enumerator who is discreet and courteous has none of these weapons of local warfare to fear. His way is paved by the an-nouncement in the local papers of his coming. All the cross dogs seem to be away on a visit, or else tied. The people greet you with, " I knew you'd be along ; I saw it in the paper.'' He, unlike the wretched book-agent, starts out knowing that he is going to succeed. He is not asking the people, in an indirect way, for dollars ; all he wants is their census. "Well, you hain't a going to get any of my senses," replied one woman. The census enumerator learns lessons and acquires experience which could be obtained in no other way. He comes in contact with all sorts and condition^ of men. Some of his experiences with these people are indelibly fixed in his memory. Many of them, indeed, are pleasant, and some of them ridiculously humor-ous ; while some of the scenes and tales of woe which incidentally come to his knowledge are pitiable in the extreme. It is our purpose to relate some of these experiences in the active service. In town the work was pleasant, and progressed rapidly, until I came to the manufacturing establishments, where it went slow. It was necessary to make a complete inventory of the books and property, which took much time. The proprietors, however, acted in a very courteous manner. In the country the work was more troublesome, owing to the distance between the different farms, and the rough roads I had to travel over. It was not an unusual occurrence to be seen pushing a wheel up a hilly road, which was almost too rough even for a buggy. The farmers were usually to be found in a back field at their corn. This meant a long tramp, and some-times several hours spent standing out under a scorching hot sun filling out the Agricultural report, for no one kept a book ac-count. But this was amply atoned for by a cordial invitation to a farmer's dinner. The required statistics were freely given, except in the case THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 2A\ of a few illiterate people, who thought that this was only a scheme for increasing taxation. I met one man only who was unreason-able. Him, no amount of explanation would satisfy, until fright-ened into answering by the presentation of my census badge. All in all, the farmers proved themselves to be a well read, intel-ligent, courteous and hospitable people. It was, however, among the poor classes in or along themoun-tain side where one met with the most varied experiences. We came in contact with poverty and illiteracy of the most flagrant kind. The lack of suitable food and clothing was most evident. Some of the narratives were heartrending. I rapped at the closed door of a little shack one June morning, and soon saw the hag-gard and disheveled head of a distracted woman peer through a sidewindow. Soon the bolts were drawn and the door was opened. After I had completed the Population Schedule, and asked for the cause of the death of her child, the poor mother answered in tones of despair that it had frozen to death in bed one cold mid-winter night. Perched in an agony of physical and mental torment, in a lit-tle black hovel, through whose single window peered the dim light, I found a murderess—an ex-penitentiary convict. The look of despair, and fear, and torment, mirgled with every sign of the wildest passion, were sufficient to make one shudder. After a long and lonesome journey on horseback, through the wildest and most picturesque mountains in the state, I arrived one mid-day on the top of a lofty mountain. Far below lay a deep, narrow vale, wooded with the verdant forest. On the op-posite side loomed up lofty crags and peaks, proud sentinels of a scene of native grandeur which few have ever beheld, and which brought tears of rapture to the eye. In all this grand and lonely fastness there were but four families, for two of which I had to make this long trip. They had never been to school. Had no-where to go to church. Creeping in among the bushes I came across some rude hovels, in which dwelt gnome-like creatures, who spoke a dialect scarcely to be understood. The chief object which showed of any com-munication with the outside world, which I saw in one hovel, was a tin cup filled with tobacco standing in the centre of a rough table. Of this both men and women smoked and chewed. I suppose it was their only consolation. When asked the date of 242 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY their birth, the one replied that she was born in "the corn husk-ing time," another in the " huckleberry season." When asked their age, they simply couldn't tell; they hadn't the faintest idea. At another house I rapped at the door. A woman answered, and after I had stated my business she simply turned her back and walked away. I followed her into the house, opened my portfolio, and began work. When I asked the date of her birth she studied awhile and finally drawled out, "Why—m—1749." (She was about thirty years of age.) Another woman said she was born in 1896. One old man replied, " My mommy hut mir net gesat" (His mother hadn't told him). No doubt you will ask whether the condition of these people of the mountains cannot be helped. It cannot, at least in this generation. It has been tried. Some of the children have been brought out to the town schools, and after years of hard toil and unceasing, patient effort 011 the part of the teacher, these chil-dren have gone back as ignorant as when they came. They could not spell d-o-g or c-a-t. When given warm clothing they could not be induced to wear much of it. Habits of thought and neat-ness could not be taught to them. When they spoke to each other it was in such guttural, and so rapid, that no one else could understand. And is it any wonder that these people have become so de-praved and mentally estranged ? Isolated from the world, amidst wild and lone surroundings, they have always lived in the same spot where their ancestors lived for two hundred years back. Under such conditions the natural condition would be for these people to drift back towards a wild and animal state. Thus, coming in contact with the high and the low, the rich and the poor, it will readily be seen what a wide range for the study of humanity the enumerator has. Much of the social and moral condition of our country cannot be conveyed by the great round numbers of a census report. It remains buried in the heart of the enumerator. 'Many a dream has vanished away, Many an ideal turned to clay ; Many a friendship proved untrue— Constant and lasting, Oh, how few !" THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 243 PAN-AMERICAN SPORTS. '"PHE President of the Pan-American Exposition recently appoint- *■ ed a Committee on Sports, as follows: Jesse C. Dann, Chairman, Dr. Chas. Cary, J. McC. Mitchell, John B. Olmsted, Chas. M. Ranson, Seward A. Simons, Wm. Burnet Wright, Jr. Soon after its appointment the committee invited the follow-ing named gentlemen to act as members of an Advisory Committee on Amateur Sports: Hon. Theodore Roosevelt, Walter Camp, C. C. Cuyler, C. S. Hyman (Canada), C. H. Sherrill, A. A. Stagg, Benjamin Ide Wheeler, Casper Whitney. The appointment of this Advisory Committee emphasizes the desire of the Committee to have all amateur competitions occupy the highest possible plane. The Stadium, with a seating capacity of 12,000, is beautiful in design and promises to be one of the most successful architect-ural creations of the Exposition. It will surround a quarter-mile track with ground area ample for the requirements of all the events proposed. As to the nature of the athletic events planned, it may be said that amateur sports of all kinds will be encouraged as representing the most desirable of athletic competitions, and the members of the Committee on Sports, being college graduates, particularly wish to make a special feature of college sports. In the manage-ment of inter-collegiate events, it is the desire of the Committee that the various college associations be invited to undertake as far as possible the arrangement of the necessary details connected therewith. Although amateur sports will comprise a large part of the program, it is proposed to have such a number of professional events as will allow visitors an opportunity to witness the athletic skill of the best professionals. The character of prizes that will be offered has not yet been definitely determined upon, but the assurance may be given that prizes will be awarded of value as lasting souvenirs of athletic success at the Exposition. It is proposed to arrange a number of college baseball and foot-ball games, and it is especially desired by the Committee that the Eastern Inter-Collegiate (I. A. A. A.) Track Meeting be held in Buffalo next year. An ideal program might be to hold in the Stadium the East-ern Inter-Collegiate Meeting, then the Western Inter-Collegiate 244 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY Meeting; these to be followed by a Pan-American Meeting open to competitors in the two previous meetings and to representatives of other Inter-Collegiate Associations. Other Inter Collegiate events have been considered, such as La Crosse, Cross Country Running with start and finish in the Stadium, etc., etc. The Committee on Sports hope that the Exposition may have a full college representation. It is proposed to hold many other sports in the Stadium, the A. A. U. Championship, Lawn Tennis, La Crosse, Cycling, Association Football, Water Sports, Trap and Target Shooting, etc., etc. All communications should be sent to Jesse C. Dann, Chair-man; 433 Ellicott Square, Buffalo, N. Y. c*p A COLLEGE ROMANCE. '99. Thro' a painted window Soft the sunlight falls, With a rainbow beauty Lighting- up the halls— With a touch of glory, Gilding dim, old walls. Stately arching pillars Rise above the stair, On the carven columns Stone-cut faces rare; Here a laughing satyr, Tearful naiad there. Graven deep, long ages Each has filled its space, Keeping watch in silence O'er the classic place. Time has laid no finger On each cold, still face. Motionless in sunshine, And in shadow so, Heeding not unnumbered Feet that come and go. Oh, what fiue romances Must these statues know! THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 245 Could each sculptured image Open lips of stone, Tell to eager listening Secrets it hath known, Bits of lore and legend, Of the days long gone! Once a dark-eyed maiden Lingered near the stair, And a fair-haired Junior Stood beside her there, With one strong arm resting Strangely near her hair. Eyes of brown are meeting Eyes of tender blue, Hearts are closer beating— Lips are Hearing, too, How it came to happen Neither ever knew. Just a hurried pressure, One keen moment's bliss, But the face above them Saw the stolen kiss. When had graven image Looked on sight like this? Years have closed the lashes Over eyes of brown; One page in life's story Folds forever down. Thro' the classic hallway Others trail the gown. Tho' the silent statue May recall full well That romantic moment, Yet a magic spell Ouardeth still the secret— It can never tell! c*P Howe'er it be, it seems to me, 'Tis only noble to be good ; Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood. —TENNYSON. 246 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY THE TREATMENT OF THE SKEPTIC. J. B. BAKER, '01. TVTHAT the world is to-day, she owes to the skeptic. Before " he walked among men, the race was inert and drowsy and dull. No systems of thought were conceived, no rational explanations sought. It does appear sometimes, however, in going back to mythic lands and mythopceic days, that they must have been, indeed, an active state. The grotesqueness of their various colored myths is sometimes taken as a proof of mental keenness. The multiplicity of their beings, and the variety of their functions, connected as they are with almost every conceivable phenomenon of nature, is said to augur a deep measure of mental acumen on the part of the authors, as well as the people who believed in them and honored them. But they are not the product of a mature analysis ; only the fancies of a dreamy childhood. Their golden fables were nothing more than the gyrations of splendid color to the yawning child who is just rubbing the scales of sleep away from his eyes. They are the capricious imaginings of an awakening mind. In this setni-somiioleut condition the sons of men were long enwrapped, and cared little to abandon it. When Thales, Anaximines, Diogenes and others appeared with their various creeds and myth-dispelling dogmas, they dis-turbed the lethargy of their fellows, and incurred the hostility of many. Their names became the targets of false accusation, and their teachings were branded as dangerous. But the world of philosophy is not unique in its antagonism to the independent thinker. The realm of science is its kin. There was a time when scientific men believed the world to be fiat. Columbus said it was round, and instantly the tongues of ridicule were loosened on him. Yet upon his hypothesis rest the important calculations of to-day. There was a time when the sage men of the world held that "lightning was an almost infinitely fine combustible matter, that floats in the air and takes fire by sudden and mighty fermenta-tion; also, that it was a physical expression of God's wrath against the insects He had created." Benjamin Franklin was too practical a man for such idle spec-ulation, and showed them their folly by the flying of his kite. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 247 No sooner had he seized the bolts of Zeus, however, and shat-tered their theory to the good of mankind, than he was charged with an affront to the Almighty himself. Protecting houses against lightning was said to interfere with the prerogatives of Deity, and when, three years after the experi-ment, New England was shaken by an earthquake, a Boston divine contended, in a sermon preached on the subject, that light-ning rods, by gathering the electricity from the clouds and ac-cumulating it in the earth, were the causes of the upheaval. There was a time, even later than that, when the stage-coach was the fastest mode of transportation, when steam locomotion was unknown and little thought of. George Stephenson went to work to construct an engine, and this is what the Quarterly Re-view had to say: "What can be more palpably absurd and ridicu-lous than the prospect held out for locomotives traveling twice as fast as stage-coaches. We would as soon expect the people of Woolwich to suffer themselves to be fired off in one of Congreve's cannons as to trust themselves to the mercy of such a machine going at such a rate." Another authority of equal prominence said that " the poisoned air of the locomotives would kill the birds." Waile still another insisted that " there would be no further use for horses." Such examples might be added to an almost infinite number, but would only strengthen a truth already quite patent. There is yet another sphere of activity in which the skeptic, or man of thinking, figures prominently, and that is the world of religious thought. Nowhere does dissension touch such a vital point in man's destiny, and nowhere has it been punished with greater severity. The men of courage, who gave us the heritage of a pure gos-pel, were men who felt the hand of inquisitional torture. They were men whose flesh and bones were blistered and charred by the fagots of fire; men who were driven about like the master they followed, with nowhere to lay their heads. We honor them, and mention their names with oracular reverence. But we are judging them all from the vantage ground of tested history. What shall be our attitude toward the skeptic of to-day ? Con-servatism might advise us to shun him as we would shun a ser-pent. Radicalism might tell us to be fearless and read his works. We shall not presume to answer the question, but consider it wise 243 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY to resort to that sage old philosopher, who said, "Know thyself," and to a still higher authority, which says, "Know the truth, and the truth shall make you free." Above all things, whether we believe him or not, whether he is right or wrong, it is due to us to respect him for his independent thought and candor. "Honor the honest man. Earth rears but few. Only at God's white forge are such souls wrought. Rare honest man. His mind perchance sees truth In different forms from thine, yet honor him. Perchance his vision thy dim sight transcends And what to thee appears sublime and sure As the eternal hills, to him is but A bubble in the air. Perchance when thou Hast found the crystal spring whereof he drinks Thou, too, wilt quaff, and own the light divine." A GLIMPSE OP BYRON. HTHE meteoric career of this celebrated, but ill-starred poet has * been a subject of study for all lovers of literature and its makers. Meteoric, both because of its brilliancy and short dura-tion. Byron's popularity, in his day, was greater than that of any of his contemporaries, but it was much briefer and more in-constant, and to-day the general verdict pronounced by the read-ing public and literary reviewers, is against him. To-day men praise the highland ruggedness and simplicity of Scott's poetry; its bold irregularity and indifference to minor imperfections, claiming all to be the highest attributes of genius; they speak with unchilled ardor of Wordsworth: his great and sympathetic heart; his tender but manly verse, always sincere, often profound and ever, the genuine utterances of a true priest of the spirit; Southey and Coleridge are both loved and lauded for their large-ness of vision and poetic truth; but Byron who was hailed as he rose over the horizon in the artlessness and inexperience of his youth, as a star of the first magnitude, as the brightest orb in the firmament, is now almost universally despised and deserted; an outlaw under the ban of moral reproach and literary censure, he stands friendless in the gloom of his solitary exile. That Byron was endowed with rare natural gifts, that his poetry bears the evi-dence of exceptional powers are denied by no impartial reviewers; THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 249 that his poems lack energy, emotional colouring, daring in in-vention and many of the less definable qualities of poetry cannot be rationally insisted upon; bat that his poetry is unfit for the hands and hearts of innocent and impressionable youth and that it revolts the moral sensibilities of the more mature in years and experience, as well as offends the literary taste of the cultured, are matters of fact, known to all students of English literature. This apparent paradoxical fact must be accounted for by the unfortunate accompaniments that attended and marred his genius. His powers were of the first order, but they were accompanied by a pessimistic and envenomed spirit, a haughty egotism—though this he endeavored to conceal,—and at last, what reversed his early successes, a growing affectation of contempt for public opinion or private regard. There was a mixture of literary and moral virtues with literary and moral vices in which the propor-tion of vice became predominant, and eventually prostituted his genius to the service of shame and folly in their most attractive and insidious forms. Censorship should not be unjust, not even unsympathetic towards this most to be pitied of poets. His works to be properly appreciated, and his unwholesome sentiment and thought to be viewed in a fair light, must be traced back to his sad life as their source of inspiration, and there though the works may justly be reprobated as unchaste and injurious,we cannot help, at least but partially exonorate their author, when we view the circumstances that gave them birth and determined their character. Born into the world with a tender but impetuous and some-what petulant nature, he was alternately visited with passionate caress and indiscriminate and vindictive disfavor by his mother, —caressed into self-will and pride, he was upbraided and scolded into ill-temper and defiance; his sensitive young nature was embittered; his strong propensity to love and crave it in return was here first disappointed and thwarted; here his spirit began to be discolored with that tinge of hatred and haughty contempt for human kind that disfigured his poetry and ruined his life. Leaving home with scarce a regret save that at the expiration of the school term he would have to return, he hoped to enter a more wholesome social atmosphere, to mingle among more active and congenial spirits, and there find that sympathy, trust and esteem for which his ardent young nature panted. His friendships, 250 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY as may be imagined, were few but fast, nearly always broken, if broken at all, through his own petulance upon the most trivial occasions, but generally soon renewed with ties of stronger affec-tion and mutual respect. Precocious emotional susceptibility exposed him at a very early age to the vexatious experience of unreasoning loves. The mistresses of hisyouthful passions uniformly repelled his advances, little knowing that they were crushing a heart that would bleed, not for a day, or a week, or a month, but for a lifetime; that they were rejecting a passion, which, exalted by a sanctified home-life, would have provided and enriched every endearment of wedded felicity; but spurned with indifference in its first ventures, would turn to the madness of despair. The haughty pride of his untamed spirit was insulted at every turn; his keen sensibility to neglect or offense kept his resent-ment, against somebody or other, at white heat the greater por-tion of his life, making him new enemies, and decimating fre-quently the ranks of his friends—those who generally endured his eccentricities, and enjoyed his confidence and esteem. His first effort in poetry was a juvenile performance, with meagre promise of his later fame in it, written at school and pub-lished when he left the University under the title, " Hours of Idleness." It was assailed at once by Francis Jeffreys, the most celebrated critic of his day, in the Edinburgh Review. The poem, prefaced with a disavowal of all poetical aspira-tions and a cleverly written appeal to the clemency of the critics was condemned without reserve, its faults exposed with relent-less accuracy, and, in general, treated with so much ridicule and contempt that Byron was aroused, the latent powers of sarcasm and irony that lay sleeping within him were awakened, and he seized the pen and wrote with the energy and inspiration of a demon, "English Bards and Scotch Reviewers," venting indis-criminate calumnies upon all writers and critics of his day. This poem, though written in the rashness of youth, and in some re-spects inviting severe censure as " misplaced anger and indis-criminate acrimony," for the first time announced his real power. His skill in versification, the vigor of his thought, the terrible energy of his feelings, and brilliancy of sarcastic wit, proclaimed at once to England that no common man had risen, and prophe-cies were many and sanguine of his future fame. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 251 After having been rebuked by every journal, by critic and even friends for his unjust assault upon men of genius and merit, some of established reputation and venerated name, he became dissatisfied at home, and, conceiving his talents not duly appre-ciated, and himself slighted, he sailed from England and traveled throughout the continent, visiting Spain, France, Switzerland and Italy. During his tour he wrote the first two cantos of " Childe Harold." This poem, written in the verse of Spencer's " Fairie Queen," though often affectedly antiquated in style, and always darkened by skepticism and misanthropy, is energetic and manly in thought always, in spirit often, and his language is picturesque and expressive, conjuring from the world of fancy the weird but vivid and copious imagery that so uniformly characterizes all his poetry. This rhythmic tale is regarded as a poetical version of his own life, the central figure throughout the narrative no other than the haughty Byron himself, masquerading in an imperfect disguise. The spirit, the pictured career and dismal sentiments of the self-exiled hero, are all paralleled in Byron, though he strenuously denied their identity, alleging that Harold was wholly an inde-pendent creation, without an existing prototype, at least under his observation. The poet, however, in the fourth canto identi-fies himself with the gloomy pilgrim visiting earth's historic scenes, as if no longer caring to maintain his false character. All the poetry that followed was animated by the same spirit; characters were changed in name, but not in essence ; scenery was altered; the tale diversified by fresh incident; yet through it all stalked Harold's sombre ghost casting a shade of gloom and sadness over it, and breathing into it his philosophy of despair. Frequently Byron was bitter, but that in his attacks upon so-ciety, upon the virtues and excellencies of character, which most men admire and magnify, he was insincere, and did not give utterance to sentiments actually his own, only unsympathetic and misled readers dare assert. His poetry above any other of his age bears the stamp of its author's character, the seal of his spirit, though often gracefully concealed, and impresses the reader that whatever the scenes, whatever the characters, Byron is there and speaks from the innermost depths of his heart. "From the in-nermost depths of his heart," for in all his works the energy of his 252 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY spirit burns with a blazing heat and like a kindled furnace throws its wild glare upon the narrow scene it irradiates; little difference whether he wrote of angels or villains, of princes or beggars, the torch of his thought and feeling was lighted at the same flame. This sombre color and despairing energy of his genius, though admirable in the proper place and proportion, makes it impossible for him to sympathize with the ordinary and more generous feel-ings of humanity. He could not elevate the simple and obscure life, the pure love, the trials, the sorrows, the tradegy and comedy of those low in station and humble in fortune, into the realm of poetic beauty as Burns; Nature had denied him the tender respon siveness of heart to song of bird, ripple of brook, the sigh of wind, which it so richly bestowed upon Wordsworth. Byron was fasci-nated by rugged scenery, by nature in her violent moods but never loved her for herself, and though his poetry abounds with allusions to and descriptions of mountain and lake, ocean and forest, they serve but to suggest by analogy some mood of man—and that mood how monotonously the same ! What a sublime range of character, what inexhaustible re. sources of human feeling, what a wealth of poetic mystery, beauty and truth investing diversified nature and human life were left un-touched by his master pen. Had his energy of spirit not been perverted and confined to the narrow channels into which it was forced, had his harp been tuned to more numerous and pleasing chords, who can say that with his exuberance of imagination, ca-pacity for reflection and poetic insight and art, Byron would not have been the chief ornament of his day and generation, his mem-ory cherished with fondest admiration, and his poetry a more per-manent and vastly more desirable addition to our literature. Of this sad fact Byron was not ignorant and often took occasion in his verse to rebuke his impetuous and monotonous strain of feeling and ardently prayed for tranquillity of spirit and soberness of mind. Serene landscapes, peaceful waters, inspired longings "to forsake earth's troubled waters for a purer spring." "Clear placid Leman," he cries, "once I loved Torn ocean's roar but thy soft murmuring' Sounds sweet as if a sister's voice reproved." During the early stages of his literary career he resolves but in vain to tame his wild passions and to think and feel as other men: THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 253 "Yet must I think less wildly; I have thought Too long and darkly, till my brain became In its own eddy boiling- and o'erwrought A whirling gulf of phantasy and flame, And thus untaught in youth my heart to tame My springs of life were poisoned,—"Tis too late." The tragedy of a soul here seems to reach its catastrophe in the utterance of the concluding sentence: '' 'Tis too late !'' Byron here appears to stand on a commanding eminence and view with retrospective survey the irredeemable past, lamenting the errors of his way, but all "too late," and theu with sublime heroism to submit to the doom prepared for him, "to feed on bitter fruits without accusing Fate;'' to chide himself with the guilt of his own desolation: "The thorns which I have reaped are of the tree I planted—they have torn me and I bleed, I should have known what fruit Would spring from such a seed." His poetry thus is the musical wail of a proud yet broken spirit; a life with many shattered yet many vibrant strings; it is a feast of beauty attended by the unclean spirits of an unchaste mind, a song with the vigor and spirit of a march and the sadness and gloom of a dirge; the tuneful philosophy of a man who knew both too much and too little of himself and his fellow mortals, who in tempest and calm sailed life's pathless sea without chart or compass; a man with more than the usual powers of men, but destitute of their most common possession—character. "A wandering mass of shapeless fame, A pathless comet and a curse, The menace of the universe, Still rolling on with innate force Without a sphere, without a course." —TID BITS. Oh, many a shaft at random sent Finds mark the archer little meant; And many a word at random spoken May soothe or wound a heart that's broken. —SCOTT. 254 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY GIVING. When God brought forth the world we're told, He did it by decree, , Just spake the word, and chaos rolled Into consistency. But when the race of human-kind To sin became a slave, Not all the words in Perfect Mind Could ransom, so He gave. He gave his child, the anointed One, The best in Heaven above, That man might learn through His dear Son How God indeed is Love. And so must we, if we would be Found walking in His ways, Show to mankind that sympathy, That gives as well as prays. A word well said may often thrill, A happy song may cheer, But souls will ne'er be won, until Kind deeds with words appear. They are the vessels that contain The oil of healing grace, And they alone can free from pain The deep-scarred human race. Then let our eyes be e'er alert, Our neighbors' want to see, Our hands and feet grow more expert To bear them sympathy. For thus it is, each little chance Improved, becomes a gem, Whose lustre shall fore'er enhance Our heavenly diadem. —ERNIE. e$P Three poets in three distant ages born, Greece, Italy and England did adorn ; The first in loftiness of thought surpassed, The next in majesty, in both the last. The force of nature could no further go; To make a third she joined the former two. -DRYDEN. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Entertdat the Postojfice at Gettysburg as second-class matter. VOL. IX. GETTYSBURG, PA., FEBRUARY, 1901. ' No. 8 Editor-in- Chief, . A. VAN OR.MER, '01. Assistant Editors, W. H. HKTRICK, W. A. KOHLER. Business Manager, H. C. HOFFMAN. Alumni Editor, REV. F. D. GARLAND. Assistant Business Manager, WILLIAM C. NEY; Advisory Board, PROF. J. A. HIMES, LIT. D. PROF. G. D. STAHLEY, M. D. PROF. J. W. RICHARD. D. D. Published monthly by the students of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. Subscription price, One Dollar a year in advance; single copies Ten Cents. Notice to discontinue sending- the MERCURY to any address must be accompanied by all arrearages. Students, Professors, and Alumni are cordially invited to contribute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Business Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE GETTYBURG MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. EXCHANGES. [From the January TOUCHSTONE, Lafayette.] Our Contemporaries. I HAVE heard it said that we never have original thoughts; that even those which we consider original have been worked over in the minds of others who have gone before. It seems impossible, however, that two college men, apparently far sepa-rated, should have had thoughts so exactly similar, and above all, that they should have expressed them in language so similar, as have two men representing two of our prominent colleges. This is an age of psychological phenomenon, and the power ot one mind over another is unquestioned ; but, if the case under consideration comes under this head, there evidently remains a field of psychological research yet unfathomed. 2S6 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY We ask the aid of those interested in honest college literary work, in the solution of the following mystery : In the Nassau Literary Magazine for October, 1900, was printed the MacLeau prize oration, entitled "An Ideal of American His-tory." In the Gettysburg Mercury for November, 1900, appeared an oration, entitled " Abraham Lincoln." We quote from these two articles, and print them in parallel columns. AN IDEAL OF AMERICAN HISTORY. Thirty-five years have gone by and the Republic is stronger than ever. The battle smoke of the civil war has rolled away, and to-day when we look into the clear past, our first glance meets the colossal figure of Abraham Lincoln. He is an American mountain—when you view minutely and examine care-fully each particular crag or fea-ture, how homely he seems ! But stand back half a century, behold the entirety—do you not see an Al-mighty hand ? We say an Ameri-can mountain, for you cannot think of Lincoln as a Grecian or a Roman, he is not English and certainly not French—he is ours, the man be-longs to. us alone, while his fame is the world's. Our broad country can no more contain that, than the present race can compute its dura-tion. Ages are the units which shall measure its extent, and eter-nity shall not behold it9 comple-tion. Let us for a while then con-sider him who, under God's provi-dential hand, more than any other, preserved our liberties and main-tained for us our national govern-ment. ABRAHAM LINCOLN. Thirty-five years have passed and the Republic is stronger than ever. The battle-smoke of civil war has rolled away, and as we louk into the clear past, our first glance meets the colossal figure of Abra-ham Lincoln. He seems a moun-tain— when you examine each par-ticular crag and feature, how home-ly he appears; but stand back half a century, behold theentirety—Do you not see the hand of God ! We wonder at him for his greatness, and we are proud of him that he is ours. We cannot imaging Lincoln as a Grecian or a Roman; he is not English and certainly not French —he belongs to us alone, but his fame is the world's. Our broad land can no more contain that than the present generation can esti-mate its duration; ages are the units which shall measure its ex-tent, and eternity shall not behold its completion. Let us for a while then consider him who, under God, more than any other, preserved our liberties and kept us as a peo-ple what we are. The Nassau Literary Magazine Princeton University Princeton, N. J., Jan. 29, 1901 Editor Gettysburg Mercury, « Dear Sir: You have probably noticed in the Lafayette Touchstone for January, 1901, in the department headed Our Contemporaries, that attention is called to two orations, one entitled "An Ideal of American History," which was published in this magazine in the THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 257 October number and another, entitled "Abraham Lincoln," which appeared in your magazine for November. The opening para-graphs of the two orations are printed in parallel columns and are so similar that it leaves no doubt in our mind that either one was copied from the other or else both were taken from a common source. If you will read what the Toiichstonc says you will prob-ably come to the same conclusion. Now this matter should be sifted to the bottom and it is to the interest of both magazines to see that it is done. I send you a copy of the Lit. which contains "An Ideal of American History" and request that you send us the November number of the Mercury. Will you also state who wrote the oration on "Abraham Lincoln," when it was delivered, and when probably written. Also the home residence of the man who wrote it. "An Ideal of American History" was delivered here last June and won the Junior McLean Oratorical prize of $ioo. I trust you will appreciate the seriousness of this for both of us, and help me to find out the truth of the matter. Awaiting an early reply, I am, sincerely RALPH P. SWOFFORD. The above are self-explanatory. It but remains for the MER-CURY to clear away the accumulated mist, thus vindicating Mr. Heilman and his alma mater as well as the MERCURY. For this purpose we find sufficient testimony in Mr. Heilman's Statement. "March 9, 1900, I delivered the oration at Collegeville before the Pennsylvania Inter-Collegiate Oratorical Union; March 10, joined Glee Club on trip at Carlisle; March 19, returned to Get-tysburg from Glee Club trip and found awaiting me a letter from Princeton, written by a '97 alumnus of the Harrisburg High- School, whose classmate I had been for about 9 mouths. The letter asked me to send a copy of my oration for a few hints and ideas, as the '97 alumnus was preparing an oration soon to be de-livered. Sent copy of oration to Princeton March 20th or 21st. Handed oration to Dr. Himes in competition for Geis Prize— third number. [The third production for the Geis prizes is due May 1st.—Ed.] Have not seen the manuscript since." The oration came into possession of the MERCURY from the Geis prize committee through Dr. Himes, before the close of 258 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY college in June. We published it in the November MERCURY, and the original manuscript is still in our possession. We hope the above is a satisfactory explanation—that it is not necessary to ramble through that "field of psychological research yet unfathomed." It is to be hoped, further, that this, as a warn-ing to college men, may prove beneficial. Gettysburg does not suffer from the "mix up;" indeed we may feel complimented that one of our men wrote the oration that won the MacLean prize of $ioo at Princeton University, knowing that it was not sent for the use made of it. Princeton, come out. Lafayette, give us due credit. S. A. VAN ORMER, Ed. MERCURY. EDITORS' DESK. Following the custom of former years, no January number of the MERCURY was issued. The question of special programs in our literary societies is be-ing discussed. That they have merit no one will doubt; but whether they should occur so frequently is, indeed, a question. The object of the societies is to train their members for the duties that shall rest upon them in years to come by assisting in and completing that harmonious development that shall send the col-lege student into the world well-rounded. Our discoveries in science have been made by men who worked in seclusion; our masterpieces in literature and in art have not been wrought before the gaze of cheering throngs; the men who have "moved the masses" in days agone have frequently talked to the ocean's waves and the forest's trees. Young men, that they may be successful, must cultivate the habit of working with-out artificial stimulus. As this is the last issue of the present staff, we desire to ex-press our appreciation of the hearty support we have received from those interested in THE MERCURY. We have at all times had sufficient material on hand. Whether or not we have selected wisely the material used, others must determine. We have tried THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 259 to maintain the standard formerly held by THE MERCURY among the college journals of the State. In conclusion, we remind the Professors, Students and Alumni of Pennsylvania College that the standard of her journals have much to do with her success ; and we bespeak for the new staff the same hearty support given us, that the literary journal of the institution may be worthy ot Pennsylvania College. THE PAST OUR PRESENT PILOT. CHAS. LEONARD, '01, Reddig Junior Oratorical Prize. ■CAR back through the dim, dim vistas of the ages, when chaos, ■*■ darkness and void had receded in obedience to the eternal fiats of the Omnipotent, to give place to cosmos, light, and cre-ation, there appeared in that creation a creature whose progress and destiny have been the objects of the concern of two worlds. The earth was man's birthday present. "Go forth and subdue it" was the divine commission, and the history of the race is the story of the warfare that has been going on ever since that com-mission has been received. As the nineteenth century gates swing on their hinges, soon to shut into the hoary past another century, we feel like one who is leaving the harbor to sail an untried sea; in whose vision friends throwing kisses of good-by, and waving handkerchiefs for a suc-cessful voyage, are fast fading from view, and from whose sight the well beloved shore is receding and has at last merged into the misty horizon overhanging the deep. In the stately ship of civilization we are about to launch on a trackless ocean. Farewell to the past—only its lessons are any longer ours. Welcome the future, in which we are to live and act! I^et our prayers be united that our majestic ship may clear all the dangerous rocks that lie just beneath the surface, any one of which may prove fatal to the progress of the "Ship of State." As we stand at the stern of the vessel, looking out upon the watery expanse stretching into eternity on either side of the wake, with our mind's eye we take a retrospective glance into the history of the past. We look into the realm of discovery and we note that the most important contribution of this realm to civilization has been the discovery of laws in the moral and the physical universe. 260 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY Ages ago the minds of men craved to understand the laws of the heavenly bodies, and the skies did speak to the old Chaldean shepherds, but in an unknown language. They were transported by the rich melody of the spheres, but could not appreciate or understand the celestial anthem. Ptolemy listened and caught a few scattered words; Copernicus hearkened and caught the first full sentences: Kepler and Newton gave us the first translation of the rythmical language of the heavenly orbs. Thus we see the gradual development of the scientific spirit in the presence of which truth has always unveiled her face and made herself known, as she has come to answer the everlasting "Why?" of science. In philosophy the same development is strikingly real. Man in his eagerness to answer the two questions concerning himself of "Whence?" and "Whither?" at first indulged in speculations that seem to us to the last degree chimerical. Twenty-five centuries have made but comparatively few changes on the face of the material world. A Greek of the fifth century B. C. might still find his way without difficulty from town to town of his native Hellas, and recognize at a glance the scenes of his childhood days, but he would find the world of thought a new creation or rather the old so transformed as to be unrecognizable. We have emanated from the mist and fog which enveloped the old Pagan philosophers. We have transcended the highest thought of grand old Socrates. Thought can no longer be said to be "An infant crying in the night, An infant crying for the light, And with no language but a cry." In the sunlight of truth this infant of thought has grown to a great stature, though it has not yet attained the perfect symmetry of maturity. The discovery of laws has been just as important and extensive in the social and political world as in the realm of philosophy. Every century has been an improvement over the preceding. Nations have been born, grown up, and died, while history, the coroner of the fallen empires of the past, has declared at the autopsy, "The cause of death was the result of a departure from law, either undiscovered or disobeyed" and standing, a silent sentinel, in the ashes of their former glory, pointing her finger toward the future she says in prophetic voice to all surviving nations "Beware!"— THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 261 a word so full of meaning when uttered by such an authoritative voice. Are we heeding this long sounded warning? Shall we dare say that the past is meaningless? Shall we not profit by the wise instruction it has to give? The Mu
Issue 22.3 of the Review for Religious, 1963. ; JOHN XXIII Allocution to Spieitual Directors Our meeting todayI immediately precedes the week of retreat by which We intend to prepare Ourselves for the opening of the Ecumenical Council. You can imagine, then, what is going on in Our soul at this moment as We welcome you who have been chosen for one of the loftiest and most delicate services that exist in the Church. As perhaps you already know, We Ourselves exercised this same ministry at the Seminary of Bergamo shortly after World War I. This precious priestly experience permits Us to understand better the feelings of your own hearts, and at the same time it makes Our conversa-tion with you more intimate and more immediate. Before every thing else, beloved sons, We extend to you Our gratitude for the hidden but invaluable work which you are carrying on in an area that is rich in hopes for the apostolate. Dioceses depend on you; it can even be said that the future fate of the Church is to a large extent in your hands. It is true, of course, that the forma-tion of seminarians must be achieved by the harmonious collaboration of all superiors under the judicious and in-terested direction of the rector; nevertheless, the most important part of this formation pertains to you because your work is executed in the depths of conscience where deep convictions take root and where is effected the real transformation of the young men who are called, to the priesthood. It is the impulse of the Spirit of the Lord that initiates this transformation and brings it to completion; ordinarily, however, a young man will have difficulty in knowing how to follow the impulses of the Spirit without the expert control of the spiritual director. 1 This is an English translation of the allocution Questo incontro given by John XXIII on September 9, 1963, to a meeting of spiritual directors of the seminaries of Italy. The original text is given in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 54 (1962), pp. 673-8. $il~irltual Directors VOLUME 22, 196~ John XXII1 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 258 We can imagine your daily sacrifices, your trepidations, and your silent sufferings. And God knows with how many prayers and efforts and perhaps anguish you daily pay for the graces of light and perseverance which you implore for your spiritual children. In manifesting to you Our gratitude, We feel that We possess the senti-ments of Christ Himself who, by entrusting to you His most precious treasures, has called you to labor with Him in this sublime work of His grace. /1 Dil~cult and Delicate Task We also wish to express to you Our satisfaction with your meeting and the good results to be expected from it. The education of the young--it is never out of place to repeat this--is a very arduous mission which is justly referred to as the art of arts. This is even more true when it is a question of young persons who in the greatness of their hearts are.giving themselves to the priesthood. The educator of seminarians is well aware that his personal preparation for this lofty ministry should continue throughout the length of his service. He must study the psychology of the students in the seminary; he must live with his eyes open to the world which surrounds him; he must learn from life. But he must also learn from books, from study, from the experiences of his colleagues, and from the progress of pedagogical science, especially from the texts and authors recommended by the Congregation of Seminaries. We cannot disguise the fact that in the matter of edu-cation there have been and are errors that are cloaked by the facile excuse that for the discernment and formation of vocations it is sufficient to have good sense, a sharp eye, and above all experience. We say this with a feeling of sadness. A more enlightened spiritual direction would have spared the Church the priests who do not live up to the greatness of their office, while at the same time it would have procured for her a decidedly higher number of holy ecclesiastics. Moreover, all of you are aware that every age en-counters and meets characteristic difficulties in the edu-cation of youth. In your own case you cannot forget that seminarians today belong to a generation that has ex- + perienced the tragedy of two tremendous world wars and that they live in a world which is evolving with amazing ÷ rapidity. Because of this you may at times be bewil.dered by various manifestations of a personality still unformed, by aspirations and exigencies which seem to be far from the mentality that was present only twenty years ago. This might lead one to conclude that the traditional formation has had its day and that new ways should be tried. On this point We would like to give candid ex-pression to Our thought. While in the matter o[ seminary [ormation it is not good to maintain outmoded ways o[ doing things, still it is necessary to be thoroughly convinced that fundamental principles retain all their~value; without thei~'o~he entire edifice would collapse and [all into ruin. Hence it is nec-essary to care[ully avoid the danger that marginal re-forms, however important and perhaps opportune they may be, should distract attention from what is the central problem o[ all seminary education. Your efforts must be principally directed towards creating in your charges an evangelically integral conception of the priesthood as well as a keen and vibrant consciousness o[ the obligation to tend towards holiness. Unchanged Value o] Fundamental Principles Beloved sons, the problem of personal sanctification was the point of honor and of joy o[ your and Our youth-ful years. Those called to the priesthood in this second half of the twentieth century can have nothing else more at heart both before the priesthood and during the years of its flowering and maturation. They must be persuaded of the emptiness of every apostolic effort that does not proceed from a soul in the state of grace and tending to-wards holiness. You must also take care to guide seminarians to a knowledge and a comprehension of the world in which they are called to live and to work; teach them to sancti[y everything good, sane, and beautiful that progress offers. This does not mean any compromise with a worldly spirit and much less does it imply a lessening o[ the importance of mortification and renunciation. A misunderstood mod-ernization that is preoccupied only with softening semi-nary life or with flattering nature too much would create a personality the direct opposite of Christ, Priest and Vic-tim. On the contrary, a really adequate adaptation to the needs of the times must result in a deeper assimilation to the personality of Christ and Him crucified. It is neces-sary to endow seminarians with a love of the self-denial of the cross in order that they may be able to love the con-dition o[ poverty in which the clergy must o[ten live and be able to meet with courage the renunciations and ex-hausting labors of the apostolate. Firm Discipline and JoyIul Dedication to Sacrifice At times one hears the expressions "autoformation" and "autodomination." It is certainly true that a person is not well formed if he does not know how to control himself; educators are justly concerned to give seminari-ans a practical and progressive exercise of freedom which 4. 4. Spiritual Directors VOLUME 22, 1963 259 4. 4. 4. John XXlll REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 260 will strengthen them to control themselves in determined circumstances and which prepares them better for the life of the ministry. But this cannot be disjoined from firm discipline. A young man will never learn to be mas-ter of himself if he has not learned to observe with love a strict rule that exercises him in mortification and in will power. Otherwise, later in the full exercise of the ministry he will not be prompt in a full and joyful obedience to his bishop; he might even undergo the temptation to as-sume an independence which, while it may not take the form of open rebellion, may nevertheless be manifested in personal action not in harmony with the plan of pas-toral activity suggested and proposed by his superiors. Finally, there can never be too much insistence on the importance of example. And it is you, beloved sons, who give this; it is older priests who give it; and We wish that We could say that all give it. Example is the most elo-quent and persuasive language for the young. Example will draw down an abundance of fruitful graces from the Lord; and from it seminarians will learn in an almost spontaneous way things that frequently are difficult to explain in words. Zeal /or Carrying Out the Decisions o/ the Council Because of the spiritual director's frequent and confi-dential contacts with seminarians, he is one of those per-sons who are incised into the memory; he can, therefore, if he is truly edifying, be one of the most effective sup-ports of future perseverance. Many times the amazing exuberance of Christian life in a diocese finds its true explanation in the silent work of a holy spiritual director who by his example and his teaching has been able to form a generation of holy priests. As We come to the end of Our reflections on this seri-ous and lofty matter of the formation of seminarians to whose good will the reinvigoration of ecclesiastical fervor in the entire Catholic world has been entrusted for execu-tion with the help of heavenly grace and by the applica-tion of conciliar legislation, We willingly give Our hom-age in these solemn circumstances to the sacred memory of those priests, now resting in the eternal light and peace of the Lord, to whose ministry as confessors and spiritual guides you and We entrusted the intimacy of our con-science at the various stages of our life. They are fully worthy of our commemoration. These elect souls who, having entered into eternity, now rejoice in their lofty goal or who~and they too are all holy and blessed--still wait entrance into that goal are according to the teaching of the Church participants in the events of the Church militant; they give her help especially at more important times such as this of the Ecumenical Council. It was the grace of the Lord which gave them on earth the meritorious work of the sanctifi-cation of priests in the past; may that grace now bring forth an abundance of fervor for the new birth which the Council intends to consecrate to the triuml~h of the kingdom of Christ the Lord: "ln holiness and justice be-fore him during all our days" (Lk 1:75). A Shining Example: Vincent Pallotti Beloved sons, the office of spiritual director bristles with difficulties and responsibilities, for it is concerned with the formation of souls into the image of Christ the Priest. It is a divine, not a human work. But this, far from discouraging you, constitutes the foundation of your con-fidence. You have a greater reason to abandon yourselves to the merciful omnipotence of the Divine Artisan who deigns to make use of you. Among the pleasing things of the new fervor which the Ecumenical Council is producing, it gives Us a lively sense of gratification to be able to look forward to the honors of the altar which are being prepared for some of the venerable Servants of God and of the Blessed who are a part of the universal constellation of the holiness of the Church spread throughout the world. We espe-cially look forward to the canonization of Blessed Vincent Pallotti. He was an edifying priest who knew how to unite the spiritual direction of the young clerics of the Pontifical Roman Seminary and of the students of the College of Propaganda with the founding of the Pious Society of Catholic Apostolate. This latter was the first movement in Rbme of Catholic Action in the proper sense of the word. And today we admire the flourishing condition of Catholic Action and its application to the important task of penetrating modern society with the Gospel. The entire activity of this outstanding priest was de-voted to the sanctification of the clergy and, as he himself put down in writing, to the defence of the faith and the spread of charity among Catholics; the one and the other he hoped to propagate in the entire world so that shortly there would be but one fold and one shepherd. He was the apostle of that manifold liturgical celebra-tion which still remains as an outstanding memorial to his far-sighted apostolic piety; this is the celebration of the Epiphany octave which is held each year in the Church of Sant'Andrea della Valle and which serves as a vigorous call for the development of missionary aware-ness in the Christian world and for prayer for the unity of the Church among all the peoples of the world. 4- 4- Spiritual Directors VOLUME 22~ 1963 26] Beloved, here for you to see are the words and example by which under the tutelage and impulsion of grace you can carry out the great work of fashioning the hearts of future priests according to the Heart of Christ. We have a serene assurance that Christ our Highpriest will make Our words to you fruitful. As a pledge of heavenly favors, We give to you and to all the. seminari-ans entrusted to your care Our apostolic blessing. ÷ ÷ ÷ John XXIII REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 262 L. LEGRAND, M.E.P. The Spiritual Value Of Virginity According to St. Paul In his pleax for virginity in Chapter Seven of the First Epistle to the Corinthians, St. Paul insists on the greater spiritual freedom it gives: I would have you free from care. Now the unmarried man cares for the things of the Lord; his aim is to please the Lord. But the married man cares for the worldly things; his aim is to please his wife and he is divided. And the unmarried woman or the virgin cares for the things of the Lord; her aim is to be holy both in body and in spiri.t. But the married woman cares for the worldly things; her a~m ~s to please her husband (1 Cor 7:32-34). Detachment from the world, complete self-surrender to the Lord, sanctity of life: those are the reasons for which Paul prefers virginity to married life. We have studied elsewhere the "holiness" of virginity.2 It remains now to consider the other two causes which, in the eyes of Paul, make for the superiority of continence. Freedom from the World The language of the Apostle seems plain enough: celi-bacy is good becauge it is care free. The celibate is ame-rimnos, literally "careless." It goes without saying that this "carelessness" is not that of the inveterate bachelor for whom celibacy means only selfishness, attachment to comfort, privacy, and his idiosyncracies, aloofness, and dryness of heart. Paul makes it clear that what he extols is dedicated celibacy. Worldly worries are set aside so as 1 This article is reprinted with permission from Indian Ecclesiasti-cal Studies, v. 1 (1962), pp. 175-95. ~ See L. Legrand, "The Sacrificial Value of Virginity," Scripture, v. 14 (1962), pp. 67-75. 4- 4- 4- L. Legrand, M.E.P., is a faculty member of St. Peter's Seminary; Bangalore 12, In-dia. VOLUME 22, 196~ 263 4. 4. 4" L. Legrand, M.E.P . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS to allow a singleness of purpose in the spiritual life which would be impossible in marriage. But is that explanation as satisfactory as it seems? Robertson and Plummer see a striking parallel to Paul's exhortation to virginity in saying of Epictetus: Is it not fit that the philosopher should without any dis-traction be employed only on the ministration of God, not tied down to the common duties of mankind, nor entangled in the ordinary relations of life;~ This parallel raises a problem. I1 the parallelism of thought is real, is it not compromising for Paul? Does not make of the Apostle, at least in this instance, a Stoic philosopher rather than a disciple of Jesus; and of celi-bacy an inheritance of Hellenism rather than a genuine element of Christianity? Towards the end of the Old Testament and the begin-ning of the Christian era, the main trends of Hellenistic thought, deeply marked by Platonic influence, saw an opposition between matter and spirit, between the pres-ent temporal condition and .the ideal world to which be-longed God and the eternal reality of things. The body was considered to be a jail which man had to leave to soar through knowledge and contemplation into the se-rene sphere of immutable eternity. An ideal of continent life would have been in the logic of that system. Actually it did not develop in Hellenism as it did, on almost simi-lar premises, in the Hindu systems of the Ashrams and in Buddhist monasticism.4 In fact, the full consequences of the Greek dualism were drawn only by such Christi;tn heretics as the Gnostics, Encratites, Donatists, Cathari, Albigenses, and the like. They condemned marriage as unclean and made of celibacy the necessary condition for salvation. But they were heretics. The Church never con-demned matrimony. Following the biblical view of the world, Christian thought cannot accept the Hellenistic dualism. The material world is a creation of God; hence it is good and so is the human body with all its functions. The order "to grow and multiply" was given by the Crea-tor Himself (Gn 1:28), and in the New Convenant mar-riage has been even raised to the dignity of a sacrarnent (Eph 5:25-32). St. Paul does not' condemn marriage in Chapter Seven SDissertations 3, 22, quoted in A. Robertson and A. Plummer, Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the First Epistle of St. Paul to the Corinthians (Edinburgh: Clark, 1911), p. 158. 'Yet there were a few Stoic and Neoplatonic philosophers to consider celibacy as a higher state of life. See Epictetus, Disserta. tions 3, 22; 3, 26, 62. See also A. Oepke, "'Gun~," Theologische.; W6r. terbuch zum Neuen Testament, v. 1 (Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1933), p. 779. But those views never resulted in a wide movement, creating special institutions as was .the case in India. of the First Epistle to the Corinthians; yet is he not in-fluenced by Hellenistic thought when advocating vir-ginity? What does he mean by the "freedom from the worldly cares" which virginity makes possible? Is it not the indifference and the disengagement from the material world which the philosophers, advocated?. Isqt not closer to the Stoic ataraxia or Neoplatonic ekstasis than to the Christian agape? Before attributing to Hellenistic infiltrations the argu-ments of Paul in the seventh chapter of the First Epistle to the Corinthians, one should observe that such an ex-planation runs counter to the general patterns of Paul's thought and life. Paul did not consider salvation and re-ligious life as an escape from concrete realities. He has experienced ecstasy, but like all the genuine Christian mystics, he was more disturbed by it than proud of it.5 If he mentions his raptures, it is only to prove that he has a personal knowledge of what the boisterous charismatic Corinthians used to boast of. But himself, he would not glory in such things; his only pride is in his share in the humiliations of the cross (2 Cor 12:1-10). Ecstasy and deliverance from the material world were not Paul's ideal. His soul took easily to contemplation; yet he did not make of disengaged contemplation his su-preme goal. His life was surely not carefree in the sense that he had nothing to do but to meditate on the unseen realities, for was he not the missionary who had to carry "the daily burden, the worry for all the churches" besides "the labors, exertions, and persecutions" supported in carrying out his apostolate (2 Cot 11:23-27)? When he gave himself as an example of celibate life ("I would like that all of you should be like me" [1 Cor 7:7]), he did not set up a model of carelessness: "Who is weak and I am not weak? Who is scandalized and I am not on fire?" (2 Cor 11:29). Those were not the words or the attitude of a man indifferent to daily realities, lost in a nirvana of radi-cal abstraction. It is therefore a priori unlikely that the freedom from care which St. Paul saw in virginity had anything to do with the philosophical detachment from the material world. He does consider married life entangled in the world to be opposed to celibacy which is concerned only with the Lord. But does that contrast correspond to the Greek opposition of matter and spirit, kyl~ and nous? The answer must be negative. The biblical antithesis between the world (or the flesh) and God (or the Spirit) cannot be reduced to the philosophical dualism of matter and spirit. In the Bible the opposition of the world to s See C. Baumgartner, "Extase," in Dictionnaire de spiritualitd, v. 4 (Paris: Beauchesne, 1961), col. 2187-89. 4- 4- 4- Virginity VOLUME 22~ 1963 265 4. 4. 4. /. M.~.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 266 God is not ontological but moral: the world is not es-tranged from God by essence but by choice. Between the world and God there stands not a contradiction but a re-volt. Such is the clear teaching of the first chapters of Genesis. It is true that on account of man's sin, the whole order of the cosmos has been shaken: suffering and death have entered the world in the wake of sin. Yet though deeply marked by the curse of sin, the cosmos is not evil in itself; the trouble is in the heart of men, not in things.6 For centuries the prophets strove for the restoration of the original order through conversion; if only man would repent, he would recover "life" which is the harmony and peace of the original divine plan. When man proved too stubborn, the prophets understood that he was doomed. Sin was too deeply engrained in the world; death had to do its work; the present world with all its institu-tions had to be carried away. Yet since God is a God of mercy, hope remained. But it .turned into the hope of a new creation, of a salvation beyond death (Is 51:6; 65:17- 20; 66:22; Ez 37:1-14). It is this expectation of a world to come that the New Testament inherited. But that "world to come" or rather "the age to come," according to the exact meaning of the Hebrew phrase, is not the ethereal sphere of "ideas." Salvation does not consist in escaping the world but in passing from one world to another, from "this age" ruined by sin and enslaved by the "Powers" (Gal 4:3), to the "age to come" animated by the power of God's Spirit and irradiated with the divine glory. The aim of life is not "ecstasy" that would snatch man out of his body and above matter and time; it is an Exodus that takes him, body and soul, above the present condition and the corruption of sin. The image of the Exodus was frequent in the later prophets (Is 41:17-19; 43:19-20; 52:11-12) and passed to the New Testament (1 Cor 10:1- 11; Heb 2:1-4; 3:1-3; Apoc 15:1-5). Christian life is a pilgrimage (1 Pet 2:11). The Christian is a refugee run-ning from a doomed city to a place of shelter. Yet what he flees is not the flow of time but the contagion of sin and his refuge is not his spiritual self but God's kingdom. These were also Paul's views and they constitute the background of his apology for virginity. He does not op-pose marriage and continence as matter and spirit, good and evil. What he does contrast is the age to come and the present age. Virginity embodies the spirit of the king-dom; 7 marriage is rather an institution of this worhl. As Paul sees it in the First Epistle to the Corinthians, a,,For evil comes not out of the earth, nor does distress spring out of the g~ound. But man himself begets misery as sparks fly up-wards" (Jb 5:6-7). ~ See L. Legrand, "The Prophetical Meaning of Celibacy," REwEw voa l~tzc*ous, v. 20 (1961), pp. $$0-46. matrimony belongs to the "things of this world." It is not bad indeed but it is intimately connected with the present transient order. It shares in the inconsistency of this or-der; and like it, it is "subject to vanity," "enslaved to cor-ruption" that marks everything belonging to the present era (P, om 8:20-21). The world and its spirit are deeply ingrained in marriage; they enter married life through the very necessity for husband and wife "to please" each other (1 Cor 7:33-34). The verb "to please" in this context has a very strong meaning,s and Paul's thought cannot be properly grasped unless this meaning is recognized. For the modern reader, the words "to please one's husband and wife" evoke merely the sentimental show of affection and possibly of coquetry which expresses and fosters conjugal love. Con-sequently, when the text goes on to say that the married man "is divided" (v. 33), we think spontaneously of a heart divided in its affections in the modern romantic sense of the term. The difficulty for the married man would be that two different objects, Christ and his wife, appeal to his heart and that therefore he would be in the awkward position of being unable to give his love fully to either. This would be a very shallow explanation that hardly does justice to the views of the Apostle. After all, the love of God is not a matter of sensitivity; it belongs to a higher level and does not conflict with human natural feelings. God does not stand as a rival of His creatures if they do not try to usurp His place. The danger in wed-lock does not arise from a normal sentimental attachment to the partner; it lies elsewhere. The real meaning of the verb "to please" points in another direction. In a world which had little concern for chivalry and romanticism,0 more than coquetry and a show of affection were required "to please." The wife "pleased" her husband by giving him the children, he wanted (and birth control was not unknown in the Greco-P, oman antiquity10) and by con-a The Greek verb aresk6 may be very strong. Its connotations are not merely sentimental. In 1 Cor 10:13 Paul's desire "to please everybody" does not mean that he aims at popularity or that he avoids hurting the feelings of others. It expresses Paul's readiness to oblige, almost to serve all. It means about the same as "being all to all" (1 Cor 9:22). See W. Foerster, Theologisches W6rterbuch zum Neuen Testament, v. 1 (Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1933), p. 455. ~ See J. Carcopino, Daily Li]e in ~lncient Rome (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1956), pp. 94-5; W. J. Woodhouse, "Marriage," Encyclo. pedia o[ Religion and Ethics, v. 8 (Edinburgh: Clark, 1915), p. 444. 10 See A. E. Crawley, "Foeticide," Encyclopedia o] Religion and Ethics, v. 6 (1914), pp. 55-6. Child exposure also was not uncommon. Polybius attributed the decline of Greece° to the oliganthropia caused by those practices: "In our own times the whole of Hellas has been afflicted with a low birth rate or, in other words, with de-population, through which the states have been emptied of inhabi-tants with an accompanying fall of productivity, and this in spite of + + + Virginity VOLUME 22~ 1963 267 ducting the household efficiently (with the concessions to the ways of the world which business implied),xl For the husband it was a matter of securing [or his wife wealth, comfort, and social consideration. "Pleasing" each other covered all the aspects of the conjugal life, everything that made a marriage successful. It is easy to understand that such worldly success implied all sorts of compromises with the spirit of the world. Through the desire "to please," "the worries of the world" (v. 33) entered mar-ried life, those worries which, according to the parable, combined with wealth and pleasures, choke the growth of God's word (see Lk 8:14). If St. Paul is reticent with regard to marriage, it is not because it distracts the heart but because it tends to shoot deep roots into the present age of sin. Those roots are so deep that it is very difficult to cut oneself free, to keep in wedlock the soul of a pilgrim and to live the Exodus. Conjugal affection is not contradictorily opposed to Chris-tian requirements; but great is the danger of remaining bogged down in the present condition of considering 4- 4- 4" L. Legrand, M.E.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 268 the fact that we have not suffered from any continuous wars or epidemics . The people of Hellas had entered upon the false path of ostentation, avarice, and laziness and were therefore becoming unwilling to marry, or if they did marry, to bring up the children born to them; the majority were only willing to bring up at most one or two, in order to leave them wealthy and to spoil them in their childhood; and in consequence of all this the evil had been rapidly spreading. Where there are families of one or two children, of whom war claims one and disease the other for its victim, it is an evident and inevitable consequence that households should be left desolate and that states, precisely like beehives, should gradually lose their reserves and sink into impotence" (History 36, 7 as given in A. J. Toynbee, Greek Civilization and Character [New York: New American Library, 1954], p. 73). Modem authors have confirmed the judgment of the old historian: "The misery of a few districts in the third and second centuries B.C. would not suffice to explain the excesses of malthusianism; indeed it had always been a part of Greek manners; but at that time it took frightening proportions. Though we should be cautious in giving a general value to a few figures known only through epigraphy, they are not without sig-nificance. At Miletus, for seventy-nine families which received the citizenship between 228 .and 200, we find only one hundred forty-six children, out of which only twenty-eight were gifts; among those seventy-nine families, thirty-one have two children and thirty-two only one. In the course of the third century at Eretria, one out of twelve families and at Pharsalus one out of seven has more than a son; out of six hundred families known through the inscriptions of Delphi, six only have two girls. Seeing that, we cannot doubt the accuracy of the famous statement of Poseidippos: 'Even a rich man always exposes a daughter'" (R. Cohen, La Grdce et l'helldnisation du monde antique [Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1948], p. ~80). n See the rather blunt statement of the Pseudo-Demo:;thenes (59, 122): "We have heterae for our pleasure, concubines for the daily care of the body, and wives to beget legitimate children and to have somebody who can be trusted with the care of the household." pleasure, family welfare, and honor as 'the absolute goal, of letting matrimony degenerate into a mere worldly af-fair. What one would attempt if one were alone, one dare not do for the sake of the other so that, actually, through the other party it is the world and its spirit which enter the family. Conjugal harmony is: kept at the c0st of con-descensions to the weakness found or supposed to exist in the other. It is harder still in wedlock than in single life to behave already now as a citizen of heaven, to follow the ideal of the beatitudes, to be poor and meek, to bear persecutions happily, to accept being famished and down-trodden. How rare the spiritual harmony that enables a whole household to meet the challenge of the kingdom joyfullyl As Bacon said, "he that hath wife and children hath given hostages to fortune" and "children sweeten labors but they make misfortunes more bitter.''12 It may be said that this picture of matrimony is one-sided, that Christian matrimony is not only "a thing of this world." It has also a reference to the world to come by its sacramental value. This is true and the point will be considered later.13 It is clear that to give a complete and balanced theological appraisal of matrimony, Paul should have said that it is in the measure in which it is not transformed by the di-vine agap~ that conjugal love divides the soul. He should have explained that for husband and wife the desire to please each other is wrong only if and as far as they rep-resent for each other not Christ but the world with its devious judgments and seductions. But in the seventh chapter of First Corinthians Paul does not intend to give a full theology of marriage. Either because he was still to appreciate fully the positive Chris-tian value of matrimony14 or simply because--as he often does--he simplifies his thought to express it more clearly, he considers only the "worldly" aspect of married life. This worldly aspect does exist. For all its sacramental value, marriage has one side turned towards the present age. It must have that worldly side to be a sacrament at all, to be a sign. And there is always a risk that it is only this aspect that will be seen by men and that they will set their heart on the sign instead of reaching out to the signified. Sacramental realities can also be veils. Thus ~ Quoted in A. Robertson and A. Plummer,°First Corinthians, p. 154. 13See the second half of the present article. l~This is the view of C. H. Dodd in New Testament Studies (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1953), pp. 113-17. The opposite stand is taken by O. Cullmann, The Early Church (London: SCM Press, 1956), p. 173; and by X. Leon-Dufour, "Mariage et con-tinence selon S. Paul," .4 la rencontre de Dieu: Memorial .41bert Gdlin (Le Puy: Mappus, 1961), pp. 319-28. 4. 4. 4. Virginity VOLUME 22~ 1963 269 4. 4. L. Legrand, M.E.P . REVIEW I:OR REI.I~IOUS 270 when receiving manna in the desert or the miraculous loaves of Jesus, the Jews considered only "the food that perisheth" (Jn 6:27) and dreamt of an earthly kingdom with an unlimited and toilless supply of bread, They failed to perceive in the bread the power of God's word feeding them unto the "life of the ages to come" (Jn 6:26- 40). Thus, as experience proves, married people are easily tempted to set their heart upon the present tenor of marriage and lose sight of its sacramental dimension. In First Corinthians, Chapter Seven, Paul referred to that common experience which had taught the Corinthians that married life is not easily a clear and limpid reflec-tion of the divine agape. Concretely, the necessity for husband and wife "to please" each other often entails compromises with the world; for, as St. Paul and the Corinthians knew well, it is hardly possible "to please" both man and Christ (Gal 1:I0). Hence appears the significance of the contrast Paul saw between marriage and virginity. Marriage is rooted in this world. Virginity belongs to the age to come. Marriage is not condemned. It does not embody the evil of this world; it can be redeemed and transfigured. Yet it is discouraged. This is not because it multiplies earthly obligations and petty worries restricting the men-tal freedom to meditate and contemplate. Neither is because it proposes objects of affection other than Christ. It is not wife and children which disturb men but their worldly--real or supposed--requirements. The danger of matrimony is that by the whole force of circumstances which surround it it tends to remain a "thing of this age" and to enfold men in the spirit of this world. By contrast, virginity is .the ideal condition of the pil-grim who wants to progress swiftly and unencumbered across the desert. Lightly shod and with loins girt, he goes on his Exodus; he leaves the world behind and strives after the world to come. He is undivided. This does not mean that his heart has nobody to beat for but Christ. On the contrary, his love for Christ will have to take on the dimensions of the whole Body of Christ and will have to encompass the world. It means that no human love, no necessity "to please" man, will oblige him to side with the world and place him in the stretched condition of one who belongs to both sides and is torn between two loyalties, two spirits, and two standards. He is free; he has no cares, at least no cares pertaining to this world. He does not know concerns which settled family life is almost bound to cause, concerns for wealth, comforts, safety, fame. He has not the problem of secur-ing welfare and tranquillity for his dear ones in a shaken world that runs to its ruin. The Christian celibate has none of these worries. This again does not mean that he has no cares at all and that he has nothing else to do than to devote himself to intellectual or ascetical pursuit. He has his cares, the "cares for the things of the Lord" (vv. 32, ~4). "The things of the Lord" which should l~'d the virgin's only concern are not the suprasensible ideas reached by contemplation. The "Lord" in St. Paul is the risen Christ, endowed with power a~d glory after His Resurrec-tion. 1~ "The things of the Lord" are therefore the whole order which has the risen Christ as its center, the new creation, the kingdom, and, here on earth, the Church.I° As in the case of the Apostle himself, the concern only for "the things of the Lord" will not mean ataraxia, in-difference. The Christian celibate will not be spared the heavy world and the burning preoccupations of his serv-ices to the Lord. But they will be only the outward mani-festation of his devotion to his Master (see 1 Cor 9:19). Such is the freedom of the virgin. It is not the indiffer-ence which is reflected, for instance, on the serene fea-tures of the gods of Phidias, with their clear eyes that ignore the turmoil of the world to rest on the harmony of the changeless ideas. We could rather feature the Christian dedicated to virginity as the Moses of Michel-angelo (without the gigantism which is the artist's own); there is no indifference in him; he looks firmly at the children of Israel who surround him and his eyes reflect the love of God for the chosen people but also the divine disappointment and wrath. Beyond them, he sees the Holy Land-or the mountain--where he must lead them. His muscular body strains towards it; his face glows with the glory that dawns upon it. Union with Christ The typology of the Exodus does not cover entirely the reality of Christian life. At the same time as it is an ~5,,This designation expresses as does no other the thought that Christ is exalted to God's right hand, glorified and now intercedes for us before the Father" (O. Cullmann, The Christology of the New Testament [London: SCM Press, 1959], p. 195). See also the several studies of L. Cerfaux gathered in Recueil Lucien Cerfaux (Gem-bloux: Duculot, 1954), v. !, pp. :~-188. A synthesis may be found in Cerfaux's Christ in the Theology of St. Paul (Edinburgh: Nelson, 1958), pp. 461-79. 1o The Vulgate and the Latin fathers have."idealized" the opposi-tion between marriage and virginity by reading in v. 32 "quornodo placeat Deo" (instead of KyriO of the Greek text) and probably understanding similarly in v. 34 Domini of God instead of Christ (as Knox has done in his translation). By doing this, they bring the contrast closer to Platonic thought. For Paul, the contrast is not directly between the world and God, creatures and Creator, but be-tween the world and the "things of Christ," that is the present world and the new creation which Christ contains in Himself. ÷ ÷ ÷ girginity VOLUME 22, 1963 4. L. Legrand, M.E.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Exodus, Christian life is also life in the Land of Promise. We are still in the desert; yet the glory of the new Jeru-salem dawns already upon us. We are still in the flesh and in the world; yet we live already in Spirit and are the citizens of heaven (Phil 3:20). Correspondingly, virginity does not belong only to the desert but also to the new Jerusalem. It does not show only the tenseness of the pilgrim who wants to be unim-peded in his progression; it marks also the joy of the ar-rival when the soul has found at last what it longed for. Celibacy is not only total detachment from "the things that are upon the earth"; it is also total communion in "the things that are above"; it is life, "hidden with Christ in God" (Col 3:1-8). Free from the world, the celibate ties himself to Christ with bonds of love. Having no wife or husband "to please," the celibate is at liberty to dedi-cate all his care "to please the Lord" (1 Cor 7:82). Here also, when St. Paul says that the aim of the virgin is "to please the Lord," we should beware of giving the phrase merely sentimental significance. "To please the Lord" does not mean simply to comfort and console the Heart of Jesus. In First Corinthians "to please the Lord" is set in parallelism with "to please his wife." This paral-lelism invites us to give the same strong meaning in both cases. In the context of matrimony, the verb "to please!' expressed the interdependence and mutual belonging husband and wife. When applied to the celibate, it must describe the loving enslavement to Christ which gives continence its value. The virgin belongs to Christ as the wife belongs to her husband. To please her husband, the wife must share entirely in his views and wishes. To please the Lord, analogically, the virgin must be totally dedi-cated to Him and take His stand in everything. The theme of the spiritual marriage lies in the background. The construction of the whole passage points 'to that theme: by balancing in parallelism virginal life and con-jugal union, Paul suggests that to some extent Christ is to the virgin what the husband is to the wife.lz ~ See X. Leon-Dufour, "Mariage et continence," pp. ~22-24. In a penetrating literary analysis of 1 Cor 7, the author shows that the very construction of the chapter expresses the mutual belonging of virginity and matrimony. The chapter is built on a scheme A-B-A' (two corresponding parts divided by a digression), quite common in Paul's epistles. Part A (vv. 1-16) is addressed to married people and part A' (vv. 25-40) to the unmarried. Now we notice that in both parts the progression of the thought is disturbed by considerations belonging to the antithetic section: A speaks already about virginity (vv. 6-7) and A' cannot but evoke matrimony "as if the continence to which Paul invites his flock could be given its full significance only in relation with married life" (p. 323). Thus "the very literary and psychological trend of the chapter shows marriage and conti-nence as two inseparable realities contrasting with and yet complet-ing each other" (p. 324). The theme of the spiritual marriage figures explicitly and is connected with virginity in Second Corinthians 11:2: I am jealous for you with a divine jealousy. Fo~ I betrothed you to one husband that I may present you as a chaste virgin to Christ. This verse is a short allegory comparing the Corinthi-ans to a betrothed girl taken to the bridegroom by her father or by the mesit~s, the go-between who arranged the marriage. The image derives from the Old Testament where Israel is frequently called the bride of Yahweh (see Hos 2:21-22; J1 1:8; Is 54:5-6; 62:5; Jer 3:1; Ez 16:6- 43). Admittedly this text does not refer directly to the question of virginity. As in the Old Testament, the bride is not an individual but a community, here the church of Corinth. Moreover, the marriage it alludes to will be celebrated only at the Parousia; for the time being, the Church is only "betrothed." In that context "virginity is nothing else than a metaphor expressing undivided dedi-cation to Christ.''is Yet it is not insignificant that Paul uses the comparison of a "chaste virgin" to describe the union of the Church with Christ. It implies that virginal life is a living likeness of that union. What was a mere metaphor in the Old Testament takes flesh and blood in the person of the virgin. She embodies fully the mutual belonging of Christ and the Church. The "marriage feast" of the Parousia is anticipated in her life. She is given to live in all its integrity the undivided attachment of the Church for her Head. In her shines the agap~ which joins the bride to the Bridegroom and makes them "one body." Virginity is agape; it has all the intensity of love; it is not primarily disengagement and withdrawal. It is unqualified dedication to the "one husband" Christ. It shows forth the exclusiveness of that unique attach-ment. As St. Paul says, using the language of human pas-sion, it is a "jealousy," a love impatient of any alien al-legiance. Christian virginity is a spiritual marriage with Christ. It is true that Paul himself did not use the phrase. Neither did Luke when explaining the relationship of the Virgin Mary with the Holy Spirit in the Gospel of Infancy. The reason is probably that Paul and Luke avoided sponta-neously words which, in the world they lived in, were too heavily loaded with pagan connotations. The hieros gamos, the sacred union of a god with a woman had been a common feature of mythology from Sumerian times on-wards and had its ritual representation in the cult and in the mysteries. In the frame of nature worship or of a ~sSee G. Delling, Theologisches W6rterbuch zum Neuen Testa-ment, v. 5 (Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1954), p. 835. ÷ ÷ ÷ VirginRy ÷ ÷ L. Legrand, M.E.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 274 pantheistic religion, it symbolized the fecundity of na-ture. There is obviously no relation between the pagan fertility cult and the Christian ideal of continence fol-lowed by Mary and tl:te virgins. And it is understandable that Paul and Luke refrained from using the phrase "spiritual or divine marriage," since it could too easily be understood as another case of hieros garnos. That their prudence was justified is proved by the wild conclusions which the comparative school of exegesis, from the times of Celsus till our days, has drawn from the discreet allu-sions they made to the Biblical theme of God's alliance with Israel. Yet it is the allegory of marriage, stripped of any asso-ciation with nature worship, which accounts best for the Pauline and Christian doctrine of virginity. The doctrine of virginity branches of[ from the doctrine of matrimony. We must, therefore, see what marriage meant for Paul to understand what "spiritual marriage" might have meant for him if he had used the words, what he had actually in mind when he wrote of the "chaste virgin presented to the one husband Christ." It is in Ephesians 5:25-32 that the Apostle explains most fully the Christian significance of matrimony. It can be said that if the sev-enth chapter of First Corinthians pictured wedlock as it is in fact, Ephesians 5:25-32 shows it in all its ideal sacra-mental beauty. But the "lofty sacrament" opens on to the prospect of virginity. In Ephesians 5:25-32 as in Second Corinthians II:2, the Church is compared to the bride taken to the bride-groom for the nuptial celebration: Husbands, love your wife as Christ loved the Church: for her, he gave himself up, sanctifying her, cleasing her by water aild word, so that he might present the Church to himself all glori-ous, with no stain or wrinkle or anything of the sort but holy and without blemish. Thus men should love their wives. In this text there is no go-between. Christ Himself prepares His bride and there is a stress on the point that she was not pure but was made so by the cleansing love of the divine Spouse. That love which cleanses through the laver of baptism springs forth from the cross; the words "savior" and "he gave himself up" show the sacrificial background of Paul's thought. The cross was already the marriage function which Second Corinthians 11:2 had seen in the frame of the Parousia. It is on Calvary that the bride, cleansed by the love of her Spouse, W:lS em-braced by Him to become "one body" with Him. The greatness of Christian matrimony derives from its relation to the union of Christ with the Church which was realized on the cross. Conjugal love, that mysterious power which tears man and woman away from their fam-ily to draw them together (v. 31) was a sign, a "mystery." It had a hidden significance. In a secret way, it prefigured the love, the agap~ that seals together Christ and the Church and makes them one body (v. 32). The Old Testa-ment did not know this mysterious orientation of the conjugal union but now the mystery is revealed. If placed under the influence of 'the,sacrifice of Christ', that is, if it is lived in the spirit of unselfishness and dedication which breathed in the sacrifice of Christ, conjugal love sym-bolizes the bond of charity which unites the Church with her Head and contains the life flowing through their joint Body (vv. 23, 30). Penetrated with the spirit of Christ, matrimony enshrines the divine agape; it con-tinues the sacrifice of Calvary and its efficacy. By that sacramental efficacy and in the line of that symbolism, each party represents, for the other, Christ and His re-quirements of self-denying charity: husbands love their wives as Christ loved the Church and wives obey their husbands with the same joyful abandon which animates the Church (vv. 33, 22-25). In the measure in which con-jugal affection accepts to turn into charity, wedlock is holy and "has a relevance to Christ and the Church" (v. 32); indeed, it is a part of their mysterious union. Now, "lofty" as it may be, the "mystery" of Christian matrimony remains a sign, imperfect and inadequate as any sign. After all, in Ephesians 5:25-32 it. is not said that Christ loved the Church as a husband loves his wife, but rather that husbands should love like Christ: Con-jugal love does not explain the union of Christ for'the Church; on the contrary, this union reveals the latent significance of marriage. The agap~ of Christ is set as the ideal norm of human love: it is the reality whereas matri-mony is only its sacrament. Though the "mystery" it contained has been revealed, matrimony keeps its existence and its consistency of sign, as if the veil had not been removed but only pierced b~ a powerful light. The light shines through, the veil be-comes the medium of communication of the light; but it is still there; and, transparent as it may be, it may still absorb some of the light. Containing a significance and an efficacy pertaining to the world to come, matrimony keeps its earthly solidity and persists in its "this-worldly" existence. At the same time as it announces the eschato-logical marriage feast of the Lamb, it remains union in a flesh not yet transfigured by the Spirit.19 :~The point can be expressed technically in the theological lan-guage which distinguishes in the sacraments between the sacra. mentum tantum, the res tantum, and the reset sacramentum. In matrimony, the res is the divine agap~ sealing the unity of the Mys-tical Body as it seals Me conjugal cell. The sacramentum tantum is the conjugal union. Christian marriage is reset sacramentum: there is intercompenetration of the symbol and of the spiritual reality. Christian virginity on the contrary is the res tantum of matrimony. 4- 4- Virginity VOLUME 22, 1963 275 4. 4. 4. L. Legrand, M.E.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS We saw that it is that "worldly" aspect of matrimony which is responsible for its spiritual opacity.2° The spirit-ual reality may be absorbed in the worldly thickness of the "sign" and even in the most favorable cases when it is the most transparent, matrimony remains a sign, a re-flection, not the light itself. This sacramental value of matrimony is at the same time its greatness and imper-fection. The "mystery" is at once revealed through the screen, yet hidden in its worldly folds. Or, to take an image which is Paul's, it reflects the agap~ of the cross, but only in the cloudy and confused way of the old mir-rors of polished metal (see I Cor 13:12). Because it is a closer participation in the sacrifice of the cross, virginity represents better the agap~ which ani-mated it. It not only reflects that love, it embodies it. Virginity is not a sacrament. It does not set the screen of any sign between Christ and man. In it, the divine love is not refracted through the mediation of any "worldly" feeling. There is nobody who stands for Christ to repre-sent Him; the contact is direct between Christ and the bride. Matrimony is turned towards the agap~ of the sacrificed Christ as towards its fulfillment; virginity com-munes directly in that agap& The agap~ lived in matri-mony was mediated charity; virginity is agap~ reaching directly its object. In the words of the Roman liturgy: While no prohibition lessens the dignity of marriage and while the nuptial blessing resting on matrimony is safeguarded, nevertheless there will be nobler souls who, spurning the carnal union entered into by man and wife, strive after the mystery it signifies ([astidirent connubiura, concupiscerent sacramentura). Without imitating what takes place in matrimony., they devote their entire love to the mystery signified by marriage (nec imi-tarentur quod nuptiis agitur, sed diligerent quod nuptiis pr~,e-notatur).~ 1 Virginity is the plentitude of agapO; it shows forth the reality that matrimony contains only in a veiled way. It is the full revelation of the "mystery" still half hidden in sacramental marriage.22 Like the love of the Spouse in the Canticle, the agapd of the celibate is a blazing fire, a flame of Yahweh (see Cant 8:6).23 This fire of love makes of virginal life a holo- ~o See the first part of the present article. .-a Preface of the Consecration of Virgins in the Roman Pontifical. We fellow the translation given in L. Munster, Christ in His Conse-crated Virgins (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1957), pp. 131-2. ="To be living images of the perfect integrity which forms the bond of union between the Church and her divine Bridegroom is assuredly the supreme glory o~ the virgin" (Plus XII, Sacra Vir-ginitas). = We follow for this text the translation of A. Robert, L~ Can-tique des cantiqu~s (Paris: Cerf, 1951), p. 58. caust in which the "flesh" is burnt up and with it any sign, any reality of the present world. Virginity is love impatient of the mediation of any symbols. In that re-spect too, it is analogous to the sacrifice of the cross: the death on the cross was a sacrifice without rites because in its utter despoliation all the.symbolical realities of the world came to an end; there remained only the naked corpse on the bare wood in a total holocaust of anything belonging to this world. Virginity too is a festivity with-out rites, a marriage feast celebrated without any exter-nal rejoicings because, as the cross and in it, this marriage is consummated and consumed in a holocaust of self-denying love that raises it above this world. It is in that sense that virginity is a spiritual marriage. It is a marriage: in the phrase "spiritual matrimony," the adjective does not obliterate the noun. Virginity is a thing of love, total communion to the divine agap~ which is the essence of the life of Christ and of life in Christ. That marriage is spiritual. Spiritual does not mean metaphorical. The spiritual union of Christ with the vir-gin is not a vague likeness of the conjugal union. It is rather the opposite; virginity gives the true picture of real love in all its intensity and purity. Neither is it spiritual in the Platonic sense of the term. It does not correspond to a chimerical dream of abolition of the flesh. In virginity the flesh is accepted as it was in the Incarnation. But it is sanctified, transformed as the flesh of Jesus was in His glorification. The glorification does not delete the Incarnation; it fulfills it. Virginity is no negation of the flesh but its consecration. The virginal union with Christ is spiritual in the bib-lical sense of the term. It shows man's transformation by the power of the Spirit. The Spirit, the divine force that animates the new creation, takes possession of man's body and soul, freeing them from "the shackles of corruption" to give them "the glorious liberty of the children of God." And the transforming force which the Spirit implants in the virgin is the charity of God (Rom 5:5), the flame of love which, coming from God, consumes the flesh of the virgin and transmutes it into the likeness of the "spiritual flesh" of the risen Christ (1 Cot 15:45-49). The New Testament does not explicitly call virginity a spiritual marriage. Yet its doctrine of marriage and its exhortations to virginity converge towards that theme because both states of life refer to the mysterious con-nubial union of Christ and the Church which marriage prefigures and virginity embodies. Linked by that com-mon relation to the mystery of Christ, virginity and matri-mony are intimately connected. Matrimony moves to- + + + Virginity VOLUME 22, 1963 4. 4. 4. L. Legrand, M .E.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS wards a virginal type of love as towards its fulfillment, and virginity is nothing but the full realization of that which is prefigured in marriage. The best exposition of the spiritual meaning of Chris-tian virginity would be, therefore, a Christian transposi-tion of the Canticle of Canticles, the nuptial song of the Old Testament.~4 The liturgy, the fathers of the Church, and the mystics have understood it spontaneously and have repeatedly made of the Canticle the epithalamium of the Christian life dedicated to the Lord. From Origen's homilies on the Canticle to the com-mentary of St. Bernard and the Spiritual Canticle of St. John of the Cross, it would be easy to compose a mag-nificent anthology in which the best of Christian elo-quence and lyricism would figure. As a sample of what this anthology would contain, it is difficult to resist the temptation of quoting at least extracts of the hymn with which Methodius concludes his Symposium on Chastity. The Ten Virgins who have taken part in the symposium conclude their discussion with the triumphal chorus: For Thee, I keep myself chaste, and with a lighted torch in hand, 0 my Spouse, I come to meet Thee. And the stanzas follow each other, composed by Thecla, the most eloquent among them: From above, O virgins, there came the sound of a voice that raises the dead. It says: Hasten to meet the Bridegroom in white robes and with lamp in hand. Turn to the East. Arise lest the King should precede you at the gates. [Chorus:] For Thee, I keep myself .'. For Thee, O King, spurning a rich home and the embrace of mortals, I came in spotless robes, to enter with Thee within tile bridal chambers. [Chorus:] For Thee, I keep myself. In my eagerness for Thy grace, O Lord, I forget my own country. I forget the dances of my companions, the desire even of mother and kindred, for Thou, 0 Christ, art all things to me. [Chorus:] For Thee, I keep myself. 0 blessed bride of God, thy couch do we adorn with hymns. And we praise thee, O Church, immaculate virgin, pure like snow, wise, undefiled, lovely. [Chorus:] For Thee, I keep myself. Open thy gates, O resplendent queen, and take us too within the bridal room. O spotless and triumphant bride, breathing ~ Such transposition is not too distant from the literal sense if it is accepted that in its literal sense the Canticle is an allegory of the convenant relationship of Yahweh with Israel. See A. Robert, Le Cantique, pp. 7-23; also A. Feuillet, Le Cantique des cantiques (Paris: Cerf, 1953). beauty, behold we stand round Christ, clad like Him, singing thy nuptials, O happy maiden.~ The canticle of Methodius weaves a web of biblical themes. The bride of the Canticle and of Psalm 45 has joined the Bridegroom of the parable (Mr 27:.!-13). The voice that arouses the Ten~Vii-gihs is tha(.~vhich had called Abraham and invited him to leave "home and kindred" for the first Exodus to Canaan (Gn 12:1). It is also the voice that raised Christ from the dead. The nup-tial procession is at the same time an Exodus and an As-cension that takes the Church and the virgins to the bridal chamber of the King. There is more in that text than fanciful allegory; the profusion of biblical allusions shows a thought deeply rooted in biblical ground. The hymn echoes Paul's call to virginity, Though amplified, the exhortation of the Apostle is rendered faithfully. The attitude and the bliss of the Ten Virgins corresponds exactly to the ideal proposed by Paul to the Corinthians of a life "free from worldly worries" to be spent "waiting upon the Lord without distraction" (1 Cot 7:35). ~Patrologia Graeca, v. 18, col. 208-9. A substantial part of the hymn is quoted and translated in J. Quasten, Patrology, v. 2 {Utrecht: Spectrum, 1953), pp. 4, ÷ ÷ VOLUME 22~ 196;~ 279 SISTER MARY CELESTE, S.M. The Virtue of Mercy Sister Mary leste, $.M., is on the faculty of the Col' lege of Our Lady of Mercy; 2300 Ade-line Drive; Burlin-game, California. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS As the good news of Christ continues to be heralded, classrooms in Catholic schools rapidly mushroom into being and innumerable extra rows of desks are squeezed into innumerable older rooms; CGD classes flourish; hos-pital beds are filled; homes for the aged, the mentally ill, the delinquent, the abandoned and helpless have long waiting lists; clinics are daily crowded to capacity. The works of mercy are literally endless. Yet precisely for that reason, their true purpose must be all the more clearly understood if the pitfall of activism is to be avoided. This is especially necessary for the sister whose community is officially sent by the Church to bear witness to Christ in the ministry of mercy. She is responsible, in whatever way her individual position allows, to see to it that the works are authentically merciful ones--that they are per-meated through and through with the spirit of Christ's mercy. This means that she must know well what mercy is and how it is incarnated in her own apostolic action. If we follow the fruitful approach of St. Thomas in striving to gain. some insight into the nature of mercy, we will begin not with an abstract definition of it but rather with the concrete existential situation in which a merciful person finds scope for his activities. We may then analyze the kind of response that is given in such a situation, and finally we may ask what kind of person is needed for these works--one who will respond merci-fully. Since mercy, according to St. Thomas, is a virtue,1 this last question involves asking about the particular habit-patterns of virtue which must be integrated into the personality of one who is merciful. But since it also entails a rather complex group of associated virtues and supporting habits, we must examine this structure in some detail in order to find out precisely what kind of effort is needed to build such habits and thus to develop most effectively the virtue of mercy. Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, a.3. Starting-Point: the Misery of Man First, let us turn to the concrete situation. Where does a person inspired by mercy find a ready field for the driv-ing impulse of this spirit? Always~ it is in a need. But it is not just any need; not physical need alone, although this may be part of it. There must be a specifically human need: a situation in which man finds himself in misery, falling short of what he needs to attain his human fulfill-ment. 2 Ultimately, this fulfillment lies in his beatific union with God; and therefore his most radical misery is his sinfulness. All unhappiness stems from this. But in addition to guilt before God, human misery vitiates every facet of existence: it is the old problem of evil in the world of the sons of Adam. The stimulus for mercy, then, is human distress. It is man faced with the impossibility o[ attaining the true happiness for which he is destined,n It is Job buffetted by Satan; it is the unfaithful wife of Hosea in her willful waywardness; it is the thief dying on the cross. In our own day, in a far more sophisticated and complex civili-zation, the misery of man takes on the most piteous of forms--all the heavy trials that burden man's physical life and his mind and spirit; inadequacy and weakness and guilt of all kinds; confusion of the young who idealis-tically grope for vague goals yet are shackled by luxury and habits of indecision; bitterness, bewilderment, neg-lect and persecution, even just punishment; and espe-cially, the despair of those who have given up the search for happiness. It is man in misery, lacking what he needs for the fulfillment of his humanness in union with God. The Works of Mercy: Response to Misery What response does misery evoke in the merciful? It inspires and stimulates the work of carrying out into ef-fective action whatever will i-eally remove the defects which stand in the way of another person's happiness. God Himself is called merciful because oust of His loving kindness He actually takes away the miseries of man.4 Especially by His redemptive Passion and Resurrection, Christ delivered man from the greatest of miseries; and in this act God showed more abundant mercy than if He had forgiven sins without asking satisfaction, for He actu-ally went to the trouble, as it were, of doing something personal and positive to remedy the situation.5 So, too, a merciful person does all he can to dispel the misery of another. *Summa Theologiae, I, q.21, a.4. Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, a.1. Summa Contra Gentiles, 1, c.91. Sumlna Theologiae, 3, q.46, a.l, ad 3. ÷ ÷ ÷ Mercy VOLUMI: 22, 1963 2~! + Sister Mary Celeste, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 282 This means that certain external works are necessary in order to communicate the good things which the dis-tressed person lacks,e St. Thomas classes these works un-der the heading of "almsgiving," and divides them ac-cording to the kind of need that cries out for relieL Some needs are concerned with the maintenance of physical life: food, clothing, shelter, care in sickness, freedom from slavery of all sorts. But man is not merely a physical thing; so proper respect must be given the body destined for resurrection, and his spiritual needs must be relieved by prayer, instruction, and counseling. The sorrowful must be encouraged and the wayward corrected and pardoned.7 It is within the context of the active life, therefore, that the merciful person directly ministers to the needs of his neighbor.S He carries out into the realm of action the teaching of St. John to love not in word or tongue only but in deed and in truth (1 Jn 3:18). Such response to misery in the works of mercy is easily observable in the lives of the founders of religious insti-tutes which flourish today. We are so familiar with the details of our own founder's work that we tend to forget the amazing range of misery with which he was con-fronted. In fact, no individual, however energetic, can possibly cope with the vast extent of human ills that come within his vision. Thus it was a natural development that, under the leadership of a great person, others shar-ing his spirit formed themselves into a group in order to accomplish what they could not do as individuals. The work of schools, hospitals, institutions for the care of the poor and aged and delinquent in turn necessitated the organization of a religious community which would be inspired by the vital spirit of its founder and would as-sure continuity to the works. A community of itself, however, is not enough. Though the outward forms of human misery may change with time and place, its essence is as universal as wounded hu-manity itself. And in her universal compassion, Mother Church incorporates the community as a living member within herself. Through the major superior as her repre-sentative, the Church receives the vows by which an in-dividual religious is totally committed to Christ. In turn, she gives to the community an official mandate to carry out the works of mercy as part of her own universal apos-tolate of bringing all men to union with God in Christ. This goal is identical with that of the perfection o1! hu-man happiness for all men, the ultimate obliteratic.,n of human misery. Therefore, every member of a community nSumma Theologiae, 2-2, q.32, a.5. Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.32, a.2 and 3 ~Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.188, a.2; De Caritate, a.8; De Per- [ectione Vitae Spiritualis, c.13. whose very raison d'etre is the Church's works of mercy must be essentially dedicated to the active life of service. Within the framework of her religious life, the sister must minister to the poor, the sick, those in need of instruc-tion and care. If she does not carry out her share with complete personal dedication,, she .not only,, fails to be a merciful individual and thwarts the united endeavor of her community but in a real sense hinders the very work of Christ in His Church. The Merci]ul Person As active religious, then, it is essential that we become the kind of person who will respond to human misery in a way that will really bring about its relief and thus ef-fect the happiness of our fellow man in his union with God. Our vocation is to be a merciful person. What is meant by saying that we want to become a certain kind of person? It is a fact that at entrance into religious life, we are already possessed of a distinctive personality; and personalities vary greatly. Of course, these differences will remain. But when we become a re-ligious, we do intend to become someone in a way that we were not before. We intend to grow into an attitude, to take on a new quality and direction of endeavor which is characteristic of our community. We express this in-tention by saying that we want to have the spirit of the community, to incorporate into our personality that par-ticular aspect of Christian spirituality which is best suited to the apostolic work proper to this community. This means that we consciously try to cultivate those habitual ways of acting which characterize the merciful person. We want, in other words, to acquire the habit, the virtue of mercy.° Human virtue, according to St. Thomas, is an opera-tive habit disposing a man to good action.1° As strictly human, it cannot be merely an automatism which, oni:e acquired, allows us to carry on action in a quasi-mechani-cal and unthinking way, like tying our shoelaces,it Virtue is a mastery-habit, demanding attention and free adher- ~ In this discussion we are speaking of moral virtue as perfecting human powers insofar as it is acquired by our own efforts. It is commonly taught that, in addition, there are "infused moral vir-tues," which complement the acquired ones and come with sanctify-ing grace and charity. lOSumma Theologiae, 1-2, q.55, a.2 and 3. 1, Servais Pinckaers, O.P., "Virtue Is Not a Habit," Cross Cur-rents, v. 12 (Winter, 1962), p. 68. "To define virtue as a habit would seem necessarily to be making man into a pure automaton, and to be depriving his action of its properly human value." The author here clearly limits his meaning of "habit" to "automatism,,' and does not take the word to include "mastery-habit" as we have done here. ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Mary Celeste, S.M. REVIEW FOR REL[GIOUS 284 ence of the will, manifesting an interiority and personal commitment in each action.12 The virtues we acquire be-come, as it were, a second nature to us, wellsprings of good actions which strengthen and dispose our human powers for realizing their specific goodness. Thus, without sacri-ficing individuality, members of a community strive to acquire a perfecting habit which exercises a distinctive influence as the "spirit" of their work. As soon as we begin to ask what mercy is, it becomes obvious that we cannot deal with it as an isolated virtue. In the practical order, of course, this is true of any virtue. Mercy in action requires a whole complexus of related virtues, a patterned grouping of habits to support it. It requires at the same time a principle of unity by which these habits are integrated into the structure of one's per-sonality and can function in cooperation for a common end. Because of the many strenuous and complex de-mands made by the external works of mercy, a sister whose life is dedicated to such worlds will be gravely en-dangered by a lack of unity in her person. But conversely, her life will be all the richer and more fruitful if it is consciously balanced and ordered toward a unified goal. This is especially crucial for a woman. Psychologically, a woman's strength lies not so much in the mastery of a single field as it does in the integrating power which weaves a widespread variety of human activities into a coherent wholeness. In the life of a sister engaged in works of mercy, the pattern of wholeness--that is, of those vir-tues and habits of action which are consciously acquired during the formative years of religious life--is specifically focused on the kind of situation which should evoke mercy: namely, that of human misery. In the responding compassion of the merciful woman, every power of her human personality is engaged. For one whose vocation it is to be thus dedicated and whose calling as religious includes the essential obliga-tion to strive for maturity and full effectiveness in the apostolate, it is important to know clearly how her pow-ers can be unified and perfected for merciful action so that such action comes as it were by second nature, ha-bitually. Everyone has the powers. The crux of the mat-ter is the question of virtue and of the subordinate good habits conducive to virtuous action. Here finally we come to the virtue of mercy in its plenary context: as a kind of master-habit toward whose perfect operation the ac-tivities of other human powers are directed by subordi-n See George P. Klubertanz, S.J., The Philosophy o! Human Nature (New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts, 1953), pp. 272-97. The content of this paper owes much to further developments of these ideas in a course on Thomistic theory of moral character given by Fr. Klubertanz. nate habits. The mature personality of the religious is stabilized (but by no means stereotyped) and made apt for merciful action by the unified structuring of these interrelated habits. The Perception oI Misery The initiation of actual response to misery is the recog-nition of it. This seems obvious. Yet there are facets of misery which are not so obvious that they are recognized by everyone; and there are degrees of awareness among those who do recognize that there is some need. The sister who aims to acquire the virtue of mercy must ask: How can human misery be most keenly perceived? How ca, n insight into unhappiness be developed and deepened? There is no question, first of all, of "training" our eyes and ears; whatever we see, we see, and getting glasses to perfect our vision is not habituation at all but only an aid to the proper actual functioning of our sense o1: sight. The perception of unhappiness is rather a matter of noticing, of paying attention to those elements within our range of vision which carry meaning. To do this, the powers of imagination, sense memory, and estimative sense must be developed under the guidance of reason so that one habitually notices the kind of detail that is rele-vant. Some accumulation of experience is necessary here. For a young religious endeavoring to build the needed habits, it will be very helpful to have the guidance of an experienced person who can direct her interested atten-tion to the minute aspects of a human situation that bear on unhappiness--the tensing of a cheek muscle, the slight threadbareness of a sleeve, the brittleness of a laugh. What is sometimes vaguely referred to as "intuition" or "hunch" is, more precisely, the focusing of awareness on the material hints and expressions of poverty, ignorance, guilt, pain, confusion, weakness, of any form of human evil. Watching for these hints and observing others more adept at noticing them, we may improve and control our sensitive knowing powers for discerning and evaluating concrete situations of misery. But human misery is not something that can be sensed. It is an intelligible reality that must be understood and judged. A sharpened sensitivity to the material signs of misery will develop only with the growing realization of their meaningfulness in the lives of those we desire to help. In order to read the language of these signs, then, certain acts of intellectual understanding must concur with the functioning of the sensory powers. A mutual re-lationship exists here: by our intellect we comprehend the imeaning in the material image, and this understanding in turn is a guideline for our imaginative and estimative + ÷ ÷ VOLUME 22, 1962 285 + ÷ ÷ Sister Mary Celeste, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS powers to furnish and elaborate precisely those images which bear a meaning-content relevant to merciful ac-tion. How is facility for such intellectual acts acquired? It seems evident that there must be some serious and con-sistent meditation on the human goal of beatitude and on the nature of sin which is the chief obstacle to achiev-ing that goal. The object of mercy is hierarchized accord-ing to the goods which God loves in man and "desires" for him; hence, there must be true judgments about the relative value of various deficiencies in such goods. Sin is the supreme evil, and effective compassion for the sinner is the most merciful act. After this come the many ills concomitant with the sinfulness of man--injustice, preju-. dice, war, poverty, oppression. To judge of these evil~; clearly, a study of the social and behavioral science~ would seem at least highly desirable if not necessary. Complementary to these disciplines, the development of an appreciation for great literature will aid the sister in observing concrete instances of misery and its tragic ef-fect in human lives. In short, a truly liberal education with theology as its core ought to contribute much to tile degree in which the object of mercy is perceived. To keep the proper perspective, we must renew these judgments with conviction until they crystallize into our permanent outlook. But it is not only the object of mercy which must be judged; we ourselves must reflect on how we stand in relation to the action that we are doing. A realistic evaluation of our own position, motivated by concern for the one in need, must include the conviction that we likewise are immersed in the conditions of hu-manity and that therefore whatever good we are able to communicate to others is first a gift to us. The lack of this conviction is pride; and the vice of pride is a direct ob-stacle to the practice of mercy. The proud are without mercy, St. Thomas tells us, because they despise others and think them deserving of the sufferings they have to undergoA~ John Kuskin has stated well the kind of self-judgment that a merciful person makes: I believe that the test of a truly great person is humility. I do not mean by humility doubts about his own ability. But really great men-have a curious feeling that greatness is not in them but through them and they . see something divine in every other man and are endlessly, foolishly, and ~ncred~bly merciful. Sensitivity to Suffering Though perception of misery is the first requisite of the act of mercy, its essence is in the affective response to misery. For the clarity of perception itself depends basi- Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, a.2 ad 3. cally upon the concern we have for aiding another. Now concern for another is a matter of love. Human love, like human knowledge, is a unified act engaging the whole person, spiritual and physical. To love someone humanly, it is natural that our feelings should concur with our willing of his good However, there is an initial difficulty in the matter responding to unhappiness: the first impulse in the face of misery is to shun it, for we are naturally attracted to what is pleasant and try to avoid what is evil. Do the sen-sitive appetites, then, have any part in the act of mercy? First of all, we may note that the perception of someone else's misery may provoke one of two contrary attitudes in us. There may be a detached unconcern for an evil that in no way affects us at present, together with the hope that the unpleasantness of seeing another suffer will be quickly removed and forgotten. On the other hand, there may be a reaction of sympathy, a feeling of sorrow for the distressed person. This latter movement"of the sensitive appetite is the act of pity.1~ Now considered on the sensitive level alone, an act is neither virtuous nor morally bad because it is not yet a human act. Can we say, then, that it does not matter which attitude a person has, as long as he is influenced by spiritual love? And further: might it not be better to remain, as far as pos-sible, emotionally uninvolved? If we let our feelings run away with us, there is danger that' sentimentality will govern our actions; and this is not a good. To answer the question of the role of sensitivity in mercy, we may first point out a negative aspect. The dangers of sentimentality should not be minimized; there is a definite risk taken. There is a kind of undesirable emotional involvement which consists in identifying one-self with the patient or one in need to the extent that his anxiety, confusion, and helplessness are communicated to us instead of being relieved by us. This would be equiv-alent to becoming a beggar in order .to .help beggars, and thereby cutting off the very possibility of saving anyone from the misery of beggarhood. Because of warnings about such risks, young religious sometimes fear to admit to themselves that they do feel grief or anxiety for others, that they are really affected by seeing suffering and pov-erty. It would be helpful, when such is the case, to reflect on the consequences of this outlook. Fear of danger leads naturally to avoidance of the dangerous occasion. In this instance, the sister may unconsciously tend to avoid those situations which arouse her feelings of pity, and in so doing is avoiding the very misery toward which mercy is 1~ Sum~na Theologiae, 1-2, q.35, a.8. ÷ ÷ ÷ Mer~y VOLUME 22, 196~ 287 ÷ ÷ ÷ Si~ter Mary Celeste, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS directed. This obviously is not the way to develop the virtue of mercy. A further reflection on the conditions sentimentality would help to alleviate her fears. For pity will never degenerate into sentimentality when its exer-cise is buttressed with the clarity of intellectual vision and intensity of spiritual love required by an act of true mercy. Emotional involvement with those in misery, when incorporated into this virtuous (and hence, controlled) act, will never cause a loss of interior peace, patience, and trust in divine Providence. From the positive point of view, sensitivity to suffering of others should be regarded as a real asset, integral to the practice of mercy. St. Augustine says that mercy is heartfelt sympathy for another's distress, impelling us help him if we can.15 The Latin word for mercy, miseri-cordia, denotes sorrow of heart (miserura cordis) or com-passion for the unhappiness of another as though it were one's own.1. Of course, temperamental dispositions differ and solne persons are more sensibly affected than others; but the emotion of sorrow is a universally human one, and to some extent every human person feels it. Being moved with sorrow for another, we are more likely to do an act of mercy for him. Freely to take on sorrow for a misery that is not our own, to let ourselves be hurt when this is not a necessity, requires a special habit to strengthen our natural sen.,;tendency to fear and reject evil. The virtue of forti-tude is this habit, enabling us to face and accept the diffi-culties of personally assuming the suffering involved compassionate response to misery. This virtue is at the same time a guarantee against sentimentality and a bul-wark to fortify us throughout the consequent difficulties of carrying mercy into practical action. Courage to sympathize, to co-suffer with the unhappy, results also in a keener insight into the depth of misery. One's personal experience of vicarious suffering is the basis for a connatural knowledge which cannot be had on a purely speculative level. No matter how much we contemplate the social conditions of poverty and the par-ticular details of this family's wretched plight, we cannot really know what their misery is unless it affects us in our whole being: unless our judgment is swayed by a concern that is at once a willed and a felt love. In order to under-stand how the redeeming love of God works providen-tially in the "crooked lines" of evils in the human con-dition, we must feel ourselves within this condition. An habitual sensitivity to the suffering of others, habit of pity, is therefore an integral part of the total St. Augustine, De Civitate Dei 9.5. Summa Theologiae, I, q.21, a.3; 1-2, q.35, a.8; 2-2, q.30, a.l. pattern of mercy because the feeling of compassion is al-ready the directing of the sensitive appetites toward the object of mercy.1~ While not itself a virtue in the com-plete sense, pity contributes the "matter" as it were of the total response, being given its "form" or determining specification as virtue by the complementary tendency of merciful love in the will. Because of the dynamic influ-ence of this love, channeled and controlled by right judg-ment, the emotion of pity as a fully human response is truly virtuousJs It gives an intensity to the impulse of mercy to relieve the distress so keenly felt. Charity: the Source ol Mercy Formally and essentially, the act of mercy is a special kind of willed love. Whatever may be the absence or presence, the strength or weakness of supporting habits and virtues in other powers, the absolute requirement for mercy is the free and deliberate choice to love another who is in need. We make this choice as the radical orien-tation of our lives in accepting a religious vocation to an institute whose commission from the Church is to carry out her works of mercy. Thereby we accept the solemn obligation to reinforce by repeated acts what is implicit in this orientation: that is, to develop the habitual facility or virtue for good and effective action most properly be-longing to such an institute. What kind of love is the essence of mercy? In the first instance, this love must be benevolence: a willing of good for the sake of the person about whom we are concerned. It must be completely other-directed, outgoing. Religious are greatly aided in developing unselfishness in love by the numerous opportunities in community living to show thoughtfulness and consideration for others. The mani-festations of such concern are by no means of merely pe-ripheral importance, for a deficiency in love is a defi-ciency in the essence of mercy. Even on the sensitive level, pity is directed not to oneself but to another,a9 A selfish act is a disordered love-choice not only different from but contradictory to the choice of loving mercifully. There-fore, any habitual selfishness, no matter how slight it is or how trivial its object, will be a direct obstacle to de-veloping the virtue of mercy. The subjective aspect of benevolence--that is, true de-sire of good for another--must be complemented by its objective counterpart: desire for another of what is truly 1*St. Thomas notes that the reason why God forbad cruelty to animals in the Old Testament was that even pity for the suffering of animals makes a man better disposed to take pity on his fellow man. Summa Theologiae, I-2, q.102, a.6 ad 8. XSSumma Theologiae, 1-2, q.59, a.l ad 3; 2-2, q.$0, a.$. ~ Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, a.l ad 2. 4. + 4. VOLUME 22, 196~ 289 ÷ ÷ Sister Mary ~eleste, $3tL REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS good. Ultimately, the true good of man is his perfect hap-piness in union with God. When we desire that a person have what is needed for this, our benevolence toward him is charity. It should be remembered that the dual precept of charity in no way detracts from its nature as a single virtue; by charity, God is loved both as supreme good in Himself and as the goal of human striving. Thus when we love another in charity, we desire for him the beati-tude toward which we also aim. The attainment of this common goal, uniting us in a social bond as fellow viatores, is hindered by our misery. Therefore, if we love God and desire that all men be united with Him, our charity will (as nearly as this is possible) be a love patterned on His. We will not seek in others what we lack and not merely respond to a goodness in others which we find there. Rather, out of the abun-dance of love, we will be able to confer on others a good-ness which we do not find, which we ourselves only hold as a gift in the first place. We will aim to relieve their misery. This is Christian love. If Christianity has been a civilizing influence in the world, it is because, as Da-ni~ lou writes, civilization is "a state of human life in which individual man is accorded his due of respect and love, being loved the more in proportion as he may be defenseless, lonely, or unlucky.''20 Since charity is the essence of Christian perfection, it is afortiori the virtue par excellence of the religious who is bound by vow to strive for Christian perfection. In the religious state, the vows are means to this goal. The pur-pose of poverty is to free one's love from attachment: to material things, for our finite human affections cannot be fully concentrated on God if they are tied down. by many physical concerns. Charity is also hindered by an excessive craving for pleasures of the flesh which prevent the development of spiritual love. Chastity does not stamp out or distort the humanness of love but univer-salizes it so that the concern of the heart may extend to all persons. Charity is hindered most of all by the in-ordinate willing of one's own independence. Obedience especially makes the sister a sharer in community effort which is part of the Church's mission of mercy i'n the world. Thus the specific way in which charity is de-veloped in a religious is intrinsically influenced by the spirit and virtue of poverty, chastity, and obedience as directly oriented to the perfecting of spiritual love: The immediate effect of charity as the benevolent love by which we desire for others their happiness in union with God is our own bond of union with them, a special and personal kind of belonging. "It is the nature of di- Jean Dani~lou, Lord oI History (Chicago: Regnery, 1958), p. 66. vine charity," St. Thomas writes, "that he who loves in this way should belong not to himself but to the one loved.''zl In belonging to another, we take on vicariously whatever is his lot, suffering included. We feel it our-selves even though the misery is'not radically our own.m Thus God Himself is said~to pity us because of His love by which He regards us as belonging to Him33 This note of belonging to the one loved may be re-garded from another aspect also. We see that the virtue of charity is perfected in three "dimensions." First, its extent must be universal, including all persons.destined for beatific union with God. Secondly, its intensity is measured by the hardships one is willing to endure for the sake of those loved, even to the point of laying down one's life. Finally, its effects are seen in the gifts of good-ness bestowed: not only in material things, not only in spiritual benefits, but even in the total personal dedica-tion of oneself.~4 Pondering this last "dimension" of charity, we recall that human love is humanly symbolized in gift-giving. The extent and intensity of love is externally shown by the value of the gift bestowed. There are degrees in the alms of mercy just as in any gift, for mercy is always freely given love, Ministering to the physical needs of another is the first and most evident degree, siv.ce man cannot fittingly strive for spiritual goals if he does not have what is needed materially for a decent human life. On a higher level, there are spiritual benefits which do not exceed the natural human capacity for giving: for instance, the com-munication of truth reached by human insight and evi-dence. But of more value still are those goods which are truly supernatural, such as divinely revealed truth or the grace of the sacraments. One who bestows on others gifts of this kind practices a singular perfection of brotherly love, for it is directly by means of these gifts that man at-tains union with God.2" A gift, however, remains but a symbol. That which is signified is the interior disposition of love which is in the person the motivating source from which his action flows. The true worth of a gift can only be judged by the extent to which the giver's love has been concretized in the per-sonal act of donation. The more fully the whole person must be involved in this act, the more apt this particular kind of action is for expressing an intense and universal love. Now the works of mercy not only give scope for a De Perlectione Yitae Spiritualis, c.lO. Summa Theologiae, 9-2, q210, a.2. Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, a.2 ad 1. Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.18,1, a.2 ad 8. De Per]ectione Yitae Spiritualis, c.14. ÷ ÷ ÷ Mercy VOLUME 22~ 196.~ 291 4. 4. 4. Sister Mary Celeste, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 292 complete engagement of the giver, but when they really spring from charity they absolutely require this total dedication. For merciful love is redemptive. It means taking on the misery of another in order to heal and strengthen and lift up; and this can only be accomplished by the involvement of one's whole being and energy. For a woman, this total personal dedication to serving the needs of another is the fulfillment of her essential role as mother. In the apostolate, it is a maternal love which inspires the sister to reach out with compassion to all who, like the child, need care and protection. She sees not only the poor, the sick, and the aged as represented by the child, but all those who are ill in mind and heart, those who are poor in the goods of the spirit. Her work of the fulfillment of professional duties is a form of spirit-ual motherhood. By this very fact, her mission in the Church is closely associated with an essential quality of the Church herself. It must be the vocation of the reli-gious woman to impart to others something of the uni-versal healing compassion of Christ, effecting a true nur-turing and growth of human life Godward. Prudence Directs Merciful Action The love-inspired insight of a mother detects the weak-ness of her child and knows instinctively what is the best thing to do. This connatural knowledge has its exact parallel in the act of mercy, the impulse to action in which there is a giving of one's whole self. Knowledge of the most effective action in a concrete case cannot be a matter of intellectual understanding alone when this knowledge is based on an intense concern for the welfare of the person for whom the action is being done. Judg-ment about such action must be governed by the habit of prudence. Thus the life of one engaged in works of mercy requires that prudence be the directive intellectual habit. This virtue is further perfected by that docility to the motion of the Holy Spirit which is called the gift of counsel.2e For this reason, St. Thomas states that the beatitude of mercy specially corresponds to the gift of counsel, the gift which directs the act of mercy.~7 The concrete circumstances of human misery are sub-ject to changing conditions; but the principles applied in the variety of instances do not themselves change. Mer-ciful action is always a means to bring about human hap-piness; the choice of a best means to achieve a goal is always the concern of prudence. The prudent person is equipped to know what should be done in the concrete so that his decision and effort are suited to the needs of Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.52, a.2. Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.52, a.4. the kingdom of God. Thus the prudential judgment nec-essary in the act of mercy must take into account both the needs of the recipient and the potentialities of the donor. Although spiritual alms are of more value objec-tively, it is sometimes a greater immediate need to relieve physical distress; "to a hungry man, food is more neces-sary than instruction in truth.''2s Since our humanness limits the amount of good we can do, St. Augustine coun-sels us to consider those who are nearer to us in time, place, or other accidental condition as the first recipients of our mercy.29 If the act of mercy is not merely hap-hazard, if it springs from the virtue of mercy, it must, then, be directed by prudence. Unity of the Virtues Related to Mercy Among the great variety of circumstances in which misery appears and within the myriad personalities who are called to a special dedication for responding to mod-ern needs, the stabilizing influence of a common spirit is to be found in the basic structure of virtues and habits within which this spirit is translated into action. The master-virtue of mercy has a characteristic pattern simple in its essentials yet comprising all the human powers in total personal engagement. First, because an act of mercy is concerned with con-crete human misery, the initial perception of the situa-tion will be a unified act including both sensory aware-ness of physical detail and intellectual understanding of the meaning-content incarnated in this detail: that is, its relevance to human happiness. Thus the merciful person will notice, will habitually listen and see, use imagination and memory to retain and supply impressions that help this awareness. She will use her estimative power under the control of reason to evaluate in each particular case a lack of what is befitting the dignity of man. She must be able to judge the social evils of the contemporary world with an adequate comprehension of what they imply for human living. Finally, she must be able to see herself as an instrument, a steward entrusted with a gift which is to be transmitted to others; this is her humility. In other words, all her human knowing powers are operative in the perception of what is relevant to unhappiness. Secondly, because an act of mercy is essentially an out-going response to a real situation, the merciful sister acts by the dynamic tendency of her appetitive powers. These will include a sensitivity to suffering that is called pity, a willingness to accept difficulties and to suffer for another that is called courage, and that benevolent love which in Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.32, a.3. St. Augustine, De Doctrina Christiana 1.28. ÷ ÷ ÷ Mercy VOLUME 22, 1963 293 Sister Mary Celeste, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 294 the supernatural order is called charity. Just as human nature is a body-spirit unity, and just as human knowl-edge is the perception of meaning in the material sign, so too there is a parallel in the appetitive order. The uni-fied act of sorrow for another's unhappiness, the interior act of mercy, is the spiritual love of charity incarnated and expressed in the feeling of compassion. Although supernatural in its cause, charity, mercy is thoroughly hu. man in its mode of operation. Thirdly, there is a kind of reflective moment of both knowledge and love in the act of mercy. Encountering someone in misery, a merciful person experiences a deeper level of awareness by reason of the dynamic orientation of pity and love. This is what St. Thomas calls a knowl-edge of connaturality. In the light of her love which unites her by sympathy to another, the. sister who is mer-ciful can perceive meaning in details which would pass unnoticed by a detached onlooker. This perception in turn strengthens the driving forces of sensitive pity and willed love, impelling her to judge prudently the action that is most effective and committing her to carry out this action courageously without regard to inconvenience or pain. In mercy, therefore, there is required a totality of personal dedication to serving one's neighbor in order that he may together with us come to beatific union with God. Finally, the charity-love by which we will this goal not only the source from which mercy flows forth but is the unifying principle of every virtue and subordinate habit related to mercy. The ultimate goal of man is beati-tude, union with God. It is this goal which mercy, by re-lieving unhappiness, aims to procure. The goals of other virtues and habits are only proximate and intermediate ones which can be subordinated to this primary human end. So charity, qualifying the will, permeates all activity under the influence of the will--all free actions, just as life permeates the whole living organism in all its parts. In a body, all the particular members and organs func-tion for the good of the whole; so in a life of charity, all particular activity is directed toward the supreme good of the whole which is man's union with God.~0 Every virtue and every habit of a merciful person are drawn into the powerful stream of this love. "If a man is merciful," writes St. Gregory of Nyss;,, "he is deemed worthy of divine beatitude, because he has at-tained to that which characterizes the divine nature. Thus is the merciful man called blessed, because the fruit of mercy becomes itself the possession of the merciful.''zx Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.23, a.8; De Caritate, a.3. ~lSt. Gregory o£ Nyssa, The Beatitudes, translated ~rorn PL Mercy is most properly a divine attribute, manifesting the power and goodness of God's redemptive love.82 As source of the exterior works of mercy done by human hands, this virtue likens us to God in similarity of works and is the highest perfection of the active life.s3 As an interior effect of divine charity,.in us, companion of joy and peace and zeal, it is the greatest Of virtues which re-late to our neighbor,a4 Its effectiveness will end only when there is no further human misery left to cry out for heal-ing. 44:1193-1302 by Hilda Graef, "Ancient Christian Writers Series" (Westminster: Newman, 1954), p. 139. ~ Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, aA. ~Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, aA ad 3. ~ Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, a.4 ad 3. VOLUME 22~ 1963 ALAN F. GREENWALD Psychological Assessment of Religious Aspirants 4. 4" Alan F. Green-wald is director of psychological serv-ices for the Seton Psychiatric Insti-tute, 6420 Reisters-town Road, Balti-more 15, Maryland. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Psychological testing has become increasingly more useful in the selection of suitable candidates for religious life and in the recognition of emotional illness among seminarians prior to ordination. A growing number of seminaries and religious communities are utilizing psy-chological services to assist superiors and seminary direc-tors in arriving at decisions about the psychological suit-ability of prospective candidates for the priesthood. In view of the desirability of a close working relationship between the psychologist and the clergy, it seems advan-tageous to review briefly the methods, strengths, and weaknesses of psychological assessment procedures as they apply to the screening of applicants for religious life. The two extremes--exceptionally well-qualified extremely poor prospects--may be identified easily within the seminary with or without benefit of formal psycho-logical testing. It is the seminarian who is making a mar-ginal adjustment--just "getting by" academically, with-drawn from others, quarrelsome, experiencing difficulties in attention, concentration, or ability to study, yet still able to conform to established minimum standards of conduct--whose symptoms are less flagrant and whose future is far less predictable. These divergent behavior patterns may represent only a transitory disturbance or they could be the forerunner of a more serious mental dis-order. In either case the psychological referral will help to clarify the situation. The psychological suitability of a candidate for the priesthood is not a black and white issue. Rarely, except perhaps in the extreme cases where a young man presents a remarkable array of talents or on the other hand dem-onstrates bizarre, pathological behavior, can a simpl~ de-termination of "suitable" or "unsuitable" be made. The human personality is too complex to permit such a casual oversimplification. Rather, it is necessary to evaluate a broad spectrum of behavior in order to identify con-vergent drives and patterns as well as divergent attitudes and reactions. The primary question usually asked of the psychologist by the seminary is, "What can :you tell us about the psychological suitability of this seminarian for the priesthood?" In response to this question;,the~psychol-ogist seeks to determine the personality assets as well as the nature and degree of any emotional disturbance which may exist. The psychologist learns early that there are no accepta-ble "canned" or cookbook interpretations of behavior, no universals in test analysis, and a notable lack of .un-equivocal prognostic signs today. No test is infallible, and as yet we have not developed the test which can predict with great accuracy how an individual will behave in complex situations. To use less than the most compre-hensive and sensitive instruments available for personal-ity assessment would be a disservice to all concerned. Con-sidering the present state of the art, there still remains honest disagreement as to what constitutes the most valid test battery. But most clinicians favor the projective tech-niques. Projective techniques provide subtle, indirect methods of personality assessment which permit the subject to re-veal his basic pattern of thinking, feeling, and behaving. Because these relatively unstructured tests are less subject to conscious and unconscious distortion and permit greater freedom of expression within a standardized framework, projective techniques such as the Rorschach Inkblot Test, Thematic Apperception Test, Draw a Per-son Test, and Sentence Completion Test are generally preferred to the paper and pencil personality question-naires, for example, the Minnesota Multiphasic Person-ality Inventory. However, Bier,1 Vaughan,2 and others have used the MMPI extensively and developed norms for use in screening seminarians. While it is true that paper and pencil questionnaires have the advantage of ease in administration and scoring and provide quantitative measures of personality charac-teristics, the additional behavioral information elicited by a projective test battery would seem to merit the in-creased expenditure, of professional time and effort. Many 1 W. C. Bier and A. A. Schneiders, eds., Selected Papers [rom the American Catholic Psychological dssociation Meetings of 1957, 1958, 1959 (New York: Fordham University, 1960). W. C. Bier, "Test-ing Procedures and Their Value," Proceedings o] the 1959 Sisters' Institute of Spirituality (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame, 1960), pp. 263-95. W. C. Bier, Description o! Biers Modified MMP1 (Mimeographed; New York: Fordham University, no date). ~ R. P. Vaughan, "Specificity in Program of Psychological Exam-ination," Guild o[ Catholic Psychiatrists Bulletin, v. 8 (1961), pp. 149-55. 4. Psychological Assessment VOLUME 22, 1963 297 Alan l:. G~een~ald REVIEW FOR REL[G]OUS investigators prefer the neat quantitative personality pro-file which the MMPI yields, but too often we find in the behavioral sciences a tendency to follow our sister sciences in attempting to reduce subject matter to numbers and statistics. Behavior does not lend itself readily to this treatment. Even with projective techniques there are ob-jective signs which, unhappily, fail to describe adequately the person they represent. The goal of a psychological screening program is to provide an accurate, reliable pic-ture of the person and not to reduce him to a mass of in-teresting or perhaps not-so-interesting statistics. Many significant test results are qualitative rather than quantitative in nature. Through projective testing, we are able to detect an unwholesome or conflictual, motiva-tion for religious life as well as underlying problems which may interfere with the seminarian's future adjust-ment. Test evidence which relates to motivation, causa-tion, and purposefulness of behavior can prove invaluable in revealing potential difficulties which a seminarian may encounter in his pursuit of a religious vocation. A reli-gious aspirant who demonstrates human sensitivity, strong drive toward achievement, and a desire to serve mankind has significantly different and healthier motiva.- tion than another whose entry into the seminary provides a means of escape from a world perceived as cold, hostile, and threatening to him. Bowes,3 in evaluating nearly 7000 seminarians, has found these major problem areas in order of frequency: (1) purity, (2) interpersonal relationships, (3) scrupulos-ity, (4) mother fixation, (5) obsessive compulsive person-ality, (6) depression, and (7) affective disorders. Becat, se most of these problems do not exist at the level of con-scious awareness, they may go undetected until they g~:n-erate enough anxiety to produce feelings of personal dis-tress and interfere with the person's ,capacity for work and his ability to meet the demands of reality. Often psy-chological testing may detect the presence of abnormal drives or conflicting motives and permit the seminarian to work through the conflict with the assistance of his spiritual director prior to ordination. Psychiatric aid may be rendered when indicated. This coordination of reli-gious and professional services can lead ultimately to a lower incidence of mental illness among the clergy. The use of psychological test procedures with religious introduces the need for specialized handling and inter-pretation. In order for any test results to be meaningful, they must be correlated with the activities, values, and * N. T. Bowes, "Professional Evaluation of Aspirants to Religious Life," a paper delivered in a seminar conducted at St. Mary':~ Semi-nary; Roland Park; Baltimore, Maryland in April, 1962. demands imposed upon the individual by his way of life. One hardly expects to find the same mental mechanisms and hierarchy of needs and values existing in a group of combat marines and in a group of seminarians. Similarly, as Vaughan indicates, all religious cannot be stereotyped and regarded as one. Different orders and assignments within the Church make special demands--intellectual and/or emotional--upon their members, so that prereq-uisites for a Jesuit university professor may differ from those of a Trappist monk. One personality may be better suited for the active, another for the contemplative life. Thus, notwithstanding the elimination of persons with severe emotional illness from the seminary, one needs to understand the circumstances and particular environ-ment in which the candidate will function in order to offer the most intelligent clinical judgment of his over-all suitability. A clear need remains for the development of psychological test norms applicable to candidates for re-ligious life. The experienced clinical psychologist approaches his task with humility, recognizing both the strengths and limitations of his tools. It behooves those who utilize his services to develop a set of realistic expectations in order to derive the maximum benefit from the referral. A word of caution seems in order to avoid overreliance by superiors on test results without giving due weight to traditional methods of selecting religious candidates. The decision regarding a religious vocation should never be made on the basis of test findings alone. The psychologi-cal test should be regarded as a supplementary source of information rather than as a replacement for existing practices. Psychological tests are being applied more widely in the evaluation of religious aspirants. Although no tests are infallible, projective techniques have demonstrated their effectiveness in the study of personality and in de-termining within limits the psychological suitability of persons seeking a religious vocation. Early detection and disposition of seminarians making a marginal adjustment can help to avoid subsequent major disturbances. Psy-chological assessment can be a useful supplement to tra-ditional selection procedures, but there is a need for behavioral scientists to develop a more definitive psycho-logical concept of, as well as test norms for, those aspiring to religious life. ÷ ÷ ÷ Psychological Assessment VOLUME. 22# 1963 299 SISTER M. DIGNA, O.S.B. Uses of Information in a Screening Program ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Digna, O.S.B., is a faculty member of the Col-lege of St. Scholas-tica, Duluth 11, Minnesota. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 300 Psychologists, psychiatrists, and psychometricians, as well as others, subscribe to the assumption that objective information about a candidate's fitness for the priesthood or religious life may be assessed by valid and reliable in. struments in terms of intelligence, personality, and inter-ests. Following the principle that a good, valid test serves as a Geiger counter in detecting intellectual and person-ality assets and liabilities, the Sisters of St. Benedict have utilized test findings for over the past ten years. Having found that a correlation does exist between test data and subsequent religious adjustment, the policy has been initiated of administering the tests prior to admission. ~ln some cases, considerable time, effort, and expense have been saved by a wise use of this information. All favorable findings are referred to a Catholic psychiatrist for further consultation and confirmation. If there is doubt, the in-dividual is given an opportunity to "try religious life." The first type of assessment is that of the applicant's intelligence. Here intelligence is considered from a purely operational viewpoint. The empirical fact is that some people show higher abilities than others. Measurement is an attempt to objectify cognition (intelligence) by eval-uating sensory acuity, perception, memory, reaction-time, and reasoning. Originally the testing program included two scores of mental ability, one based upon the Ameri-can Council Psychological Examination and the other on the Otis Self-Administering Test. The reasons for select. ing these two tests were the availability of the ACE and the ease of administering and interpreting the Otis. Completion of high school has been a basic require-ment for admission into the community. All the sisters at one time or another matriculate at the local college. Since the ACE scores are recorded in the registrar's office, they are accessible for use. However, the ACE scores are not too meaningful in determining the kind of intelligence the individual possesses. For this reason candidates were ranked percentage-wise among all other high school sen-iors or college freshmen tested and placed in the top fourth, lower fourth, and so on. Furthermore, the ACE is highly weighted with verbal factors so that the picture is not too complete. Then too, novice and candidate mis-tresses found difficulty in interpreting 224/81 or still more confusing 127/13. The Otis intelligence quotient was, therefore, a more satisfactory measurement. During the last five years the California Short Form Test of Mental Maturity has been used. This test yields information on total mental factors, language factors, non-language factors, spatial relationships, logical reason-ing, numerical reasoning, verbal concepts, average grade placement, mental age, and intelligence quotient. The following examples illustrate the use of the Cali-fornia Short Form Test of Mental Maturity. Applicant A was a young woman who applied at several communities. Because her educational background was limited to the eighth grade of a small country school, she was rejected. At the time she made contact with the local community, she was working as a domestic in a private home and had taken her vacation to make the lay women's retreat. She was advised to reapply and took the tests with other ap-plicants. The summary data scores indicated that the young woman had intelligence quotient scores in terms of total mental factors of 138, language factors of 141, and non-language factors of 129. Her intelligence grade place-ment was at the 90th percentile for total mental factors and language factors, and at the 60th for non-language factors using the norms for college graduates. The per-centile ranks at her chronological age (C.A.) were 80 for spatial relations, 99 for logical reasoning, 95 for numeri-cal reasoning, 99 for total verbal concepts, and 95 for non-language factors. The young woman was accepted. In one year as a postulant she easily completed two years of a collegiate preparatory program. At the end of her novi-tiate she completed two more years of high school and did very well in college. Her average was A minus or B plus. She is gentle, refined, humble, and modest, but above all deeply spiritual. Surely it is a courtesy to God to recog-nize and utilize His gifts to such a girl. The results of the California Test of Mental Maturity were important factors in the rejection of two applicants, B and C. The intelligence quotients obtained by appli-cant B were 86 for mental factors, 106 for language fac-tors, and 66 for non-language factors. Applicant C's in-telligence quotient, measured in terms of these three factors, were 82 for mental factors, 97 for language fac-÷ ÷ ÷ Screening Program VOLUME 22, 1963 $1~t~ M. Digna REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 302 tors, and 64 for non-language factors. Although the pre-diction of subsequent adjustment in religious life was not too promising on the basis of these scores, the applicants were not rejected merely on this basis. These scores led to a more thorough investigation of their backgrounds. As a result, the mother prioress felt that the applicants were not intellectually equipped to meet the demands of a community that stressed teaching and nursing as an ex-pression of its apostolate. Although information regarding intelligence is very important, the submerged four-fifths of one's personality is just as important as a predictive factor in adjustment to religious life. Originally, the Minnesota Personality Scale was used to discover problems with which the indi-vidual was confronted. This scale was helpful in deter-mining poor social adjustment, family conflicts, and emo-tional problems. Although the scale was structured, the evaluation results merely scratched the surface of the in-dividual's personality. According to Furst and Fricke (1956) a structured test is nonprojective in the sense that users can agree completely on the individual's score; they are projective in the sense that individuals can project personal meanings into the stimuli. Although very losv scores on the Minnesota Personality Scale were clues to more deep-seated troubles, most of the findings were of the obvious type. The Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory (MMPI) has proved a better instrument since the items, the interrelationships, and the scales all afford information stemming from feelings and emotions. I*: is often possible through careful item analyses to determine the root of emotional experience and to discover hidden attitudes and traits. Supplementing the use of the MMPI, Modified Form, are life histories, ratings from direct ob-servation, and introspective reporting. Because of the MMPI, the psychologist secures a deeper understanding of the individual's problems. The items are structured, and the interpretation from them is deter-mined a priori. For example, if the psychologist or psy-chiatrist wishes to discover whether a person has phobias, he asks questions relating to the individual's fear of snakes, crowds, high places, and so forth. One criterion of phobias is a morbid, exaggerated, pathological fear of some object or situation. The basic assumption is that an individual who has many fears will answer questions per-taining to objects and situations of which the individual is afraid, and he will admit these fears. The test items of the MMPI have to be assembled into scales based upon the principle that the psychologist building the test has sufficient insights into the dynamics of verbal behavior and its relation to the inner core or personality that he is able to predict beforehand what certain sorts of people will say about themselves when asked certain types of questions. Structured personality tests may be employed in a purely diagnostic, categorizing fashion without the use of any dynamic interpretation of the relationship among scales or the patterning of a pro-file. The discrete scores on.': the' Minnesota Personality Scale are an example. The MMPI makes possible more "depth" interpreta-tion. On the basis of the MMPI and other information, some applicants have been rejected. As a typical example, the profile for applicant D demonstrates the use of the results of a personality inventory as a clue to possible poor adjustment to religious life. Although her intelligence quotient scores were average, applicant D presented a poor personality profile. She had two high triads (pairs of threes) above the normal range (30 to 70). Six of the nine scales for this profile ranged from T-scores of~71 to 108. The F score was high. According to Welsh and Dahl-strom (1956), high F scores tend to invalidate the sub-ject's responses. A schizoid may obtain a high F score owing to delusional or other aberrant mental state. The high score for the other scales represented such areas as hypochrondriasis, hysteria, psychopathic deviate, para-noia, schizophrenia, and hypomania. This young woman was not admitted but was counseled to see a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist to whom she was referred discovered that the applicant had previously been institutionalized. A recent follow-up revealed that she had returned to a mental institution. Applicant E was screened out because of her emotional pattern. This young girl was sixteen years old. Her in-telligence was average but her personality picture was not good. The young woman entered, was tested, and the test material with the following comments was filed in the mother prioress' office: This individual has high scores on the psychopathic deviate, masculinity, and psychasthenia scales. If she shows the follow-ing tendencies or traits it would be very wise to refer her to a psychiatrist: inability to profit from a mistake, attention-getting devices, concentrating on a younger girl in an objectionable manner, having so-called "crushes" on an older woman; any compulsive behavior like hand washing, phobias, fears, and anxieties, depression, worry, lack of confidence, and inability to concentrate. When the young woman began to manifest undesirable traits, her testing material was referred to for counseling purposes. Despite counseling, she fortunately left the community, but unfortunately has not sought psychiatric help. T-he care needed in interpreting test scores may be em-phasized by the responses of applicant F. This young ÷ ÷ ÷ Screening Program VOLUME 22, 1963 ÷ ÷ .÷ Sister M. Digna REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 304 women's profile was unreliable. Unknown to us, the ap-plicant had previously been in two communities. In tak-ing the test, with her high intelligence, test-wiseness, and general sophistication, she presented a pattern falling within the normal range. Fifteen items of the MMPI are designated subtle items because their psychological sig-nificance would not normally be detected by individuals taking the test. Applicant F was able to discern the im-plications of test items and answer them to put herself in a favorable light. This young woman had an opportunity to "try religious life." She received counseling before en-trance, after entrance, and for two years after leaving until she settled down to complete her third year of col-lege, receiving A's in courses she liked, F's and D's in those she didn't. She does not accept God's will in her rejection. Recently, the writer received a letter from a state institution where the young woman has been for the last several years. Applicant G has average intelligence, a fairly well de-fined primary interest pattern, but an unsatisfactory per-sonality pattern on the MMPI. This applicant was tested after entrance and advised to leave. In all cases of dis-missal, the applicants have an opportunity to see a Catho-lic psychiatrist. Through a knowledge of their fields of vocational interest and job placement services, these young women often make a better adjustment as a result of their brief experience in religion. It might be inferred from these data that applicants to religious life have low intelligence or are emotionally disturbed. However, concomitant with the screening out of these "atypical" cases, eighty-one applicants were rld-mitted into the community. In most cases these candi-dates were young women who desired to serve God aad whose intellectual and emotional patterns were not de-terrent factors. Of the eighty-one, six wavered and left. Four of the six have been re-admitted and are making ex-cellent adjustments. Having seen her strengths and weak-nesses, the candidate herself often feels reassured that she can give herself to God if she is generous enough to make the sacrifice and to depend upon His divine grace to assist her. Illustrative of a good profile is that of applicant H. The California Test of Mental Maturity, interpreted in terms of intelligence quotients and grade placement, are at; fol-lows: for mental factors, the intelligence quotient is 118, grade placement, 15.6; language factors, 131, grade place-ment, 70th percentile of students graduating from col-lege; and non-language factors, 105, grade placement, 12.5. Her MMPI falls within the normal range, and her Strong Interest Blank reveals a well-defined interest pat-tern. Her primary occupational interests are in elemen- tary teaching and office work, and her tertiary interests in business education and home economics. It might be wise to say a few words about the use of the Strong Vocational Interest Blank. There rare two forms, one for men and ond for wbmen. The test has been useful in helping the community identify.strong positive and negative interest patterns. About ninety per cent of the reli
Issue 20.5 of the Review for Religious, 1961. ; HENRI HOLSTEIN, S,J. The Mystery of Religious Life Religious life1¯ interests contemporary man; this in-terest, in fact, constitutes one of the curious, paradoxes of our times. However surprising and unexpected this may seem to be, our contemporaries' interest in religious life is shown by the success of the novelized memoirs of ex-religious, especially when they are .transposed to the film. Books about religious are a financial success; this is true even in the case of expensive publications like the recent volume of Mo_nsieurs Serrou and Vals on the Poor Clares;2 this volume, illustrated by remarkable photographs that give the reader a realization of the life of the religious, is a continuation of a series on various comtemplative orders of men and women. Mademoiselle Cita-Malard, who lived with the permission of the Holy See0within the cloister of most of the important orders of women and who is able to make them known in an intelligent and respectful fashion, has published a brief, well-written volume to in-troduce French readers to "a million religious women."a And on. the stage in Paris, Monsieur Di~go Fabri presents the Jesuits4 to an audience which from all appearances:is deeply attentive and thoughtful; by means of a somewhat flamboyant plot which the playwright has imagined on the frontiers of that part of the world cut off by the iron cur-tain, the problem of the contemporary apostolate is placed'~ What is the source of this interest and curiosity which in general is sympathetic even if it is aroused by anecdotal or vestimentary details rather than by what is essential 1 This article was originally a conference given at the University of Louvain as the conclusion of a series of lectures on religious life. !t is reprinted with permission from Revue des communautds re-ligieuses, v. 33 (1961), pp. 65-~9. * Les Clarisses: les pauvres dames de sainte Glaire d'Assise. Paris: Horay, 19fi0. ~ Un million de religieuses. Paris: Fayard, 1960. ¯ A critical review of this drama was given by P. L. Barjon, S.J. in Etudes, February, 1961, pp. 251-57. ' "4. ,4. "4. Henri Holstein, s.J., teaches theology at the Institut Catholiqu, e in Paris. '~ ~' VOLUME 20, 1961 317 Henri Holstein, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 318 to religious life? I believe the reason is that religious poses a problem for modern man; in its own way religious life is a sign of contradiction which ~ angers, shocks, and at times arouses iriescapable questions. If one reflects and considers the matter, religious life by its an.d by its numbeis is a social fact to which modern man can not remaiff~ indifferent, desacralizedas he and living in a paganized atmosphere. This has been stated by Mademoiselle Cita-Malard when she writes religious women, the number of whom she estimates to a million: Is it not a paradox that out of two and half billion human beings and out of about five hundred million Catholics, million women have renounced forever--and in most cases even before personal experienc.e in the matter--the pleasures and the servitudes of the flesh and that they have stripped them-selves of everything, even their own will, either to follow publicly the strict and minute obligations which impose COmmon life on them or to free themselves for a more or !hidden apostolate in their milieu and prof~ssi0n, an apostolate which makes of their life an Oblation without reserve? What have pledged themselves to is directly opposed to the liberties claimed by Ouroindependent, self, centeoroed, sensual age? To this situation, so loudly underscored by:t_he indiscrete means of communication of our era, only we canbring answer by our life and our witness. Doubtless, this Witness will come from religious themselves, for, eveh if people do'not admit it to us, they nevertheless watch u~; si'nce dress and our way of life attract their attention; but witness will come especially from Catholics who Should able to explain to any man of good will what religious in the Catholic Church means. Accordingly; I hope present to y6u what, you already know in a kind of theo-logical synthesis and to give you in ~a simple way :the stitutive essentials of the religious life. Of the two partsof.this conference, the first will attempt [o show religious life as the fullness of baptism; the second will emphasize the .nature 6[ the witness given in and the Church by the religious who is a witness of heaven w~ll as a witness of the love of Jesus Christ for all men, brethren. Religious Life the Fullness~ of Baptism "Religious life," canon 1law tells us, "is a s~able c~o~mmunity way of ili[e in ~hich the faithful besides precepts common to all propose to observe as wello th evangelical counsels, through the vows of obedience, chastity, and poverty" (c. 487). ~ Un million de religieuses, pp. 6-7. ~ In constitutions ~nd, vow formulas the,order is usually reversed "poverty, chastity, and obedience." Was not the purpose of th legislator, however, to show here the p~eeminence of the vow o obedience as mentioned in the well-known text of John XXIII o this matter? ~ In analyzing the obligations of religious life, this legal text first mentions the precepts common'to all Christians to which, it is evident, religious are also bound. It then adds .that besides these religious take on the observance of the evangelical counsels, obligating themselves to these by the observance of the required vows lived out not in isolation but--as far as there is question of religious life in the proper sense of the term--in a stable and commun-ity life. This description might seem to say that religious life claims of those who profess it something more than the Church demands of "ordinary Christians/' This, however, would .not be completely exact. Our Lord's command to be perfect as the heavenly Father holds for al.1, and the exigencies of baptism are the same for all the faithful. But the religious, in responding to a call that comes from our Lord and is acknowledged as such by. the Church when she admits to the vows of religion, intends to live this baptismal perfection in aradical way that by a definitive and irrevocable intention suppresses, the obstacles that might hinder or retard his fervor. "Every Christian," Pius XII said, "is invited to strive with all his powers for the ideal of Christian perfection; but it is realized .in a more complete and.sure way in. the states of perfectton. In religious life there is no question of a Christian ideal 3f life other than that~imposed on every baptized person; it is rather a matter of a complete and total effort to live 3ut in an authentic way the life begun by baptism. The .ame program of perfection is proposed to all; the Gospel s directed to all Christians; religious know no other code of perfection. The originality of religious consists in the ~doption'of radical means which permit them to give full ealization to their baptism; this is done in a prescribed ¯nd organic way within an institute or religious family :pproved by theChurch. In response to a call of our Lord, ,there takes place, at he beginning and origin of religious life a consecration vhich is complete and irrevocable for the heart which hakes it even before the person's lips are authorized to ormulate it publicly before the Church. This consecra-ion, which has .all the fervor and generosity of those -spousals with our Lord of which S~t. Paul speaks, is a lear-sighted and exacting renewal of baptismal-consecra-ion. .~ The life of every Christian is a consecrated one, since n ineradicable character marks it with the baptismal par-icipation in the death and resurrection" of Christ. Every ,aptized person is conformed to Christ; that is, he is T Discourse of December 9, 1957. Acta dpostolicae Sedis, v. 50 ~958), p. 36. 4. 4. ÷ Religious 319 4. 4. 4. Henri Holstein, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 320 regenerated to His likeness, is a member of His Body, and in Him is an adopted son of the Father, Religious profession is not a second baptism: there can be no such thing, but only renewals, more or less fervent, of the baptismal promises. Religious profession--and this is its grandeur and its seriousness---is a decisive act which binds the one who makes it to the obligation of a strict living out of his baptism by forbidding to him everything which could be opposed to the life of the new man. The negative aspects of religious life--separation, re-nouncement, despoiling--which are the first things to capture the attention of the general public as well as of relatives who are present at an investiture or a profession, are nothing else than the execution of this program of radi-cal renouncement which baptism implies. "We are dead with Christ . " says St. Paul. "Regard yourselves as dead to sin and living for God in Christ Jesus. Let sin rule no longer in your mortal body . " (Rom 6:8-12). The demands of baptism are understood by the religious with a total fullness. If it is necessary to renounce sin, then it is necessary to separate oneself from all the occasions of sin, from everything which would be capable of attaching us to a master other than Christ, from-that world for which Christ refused to pray. To renounce sin, says St. Paul, is to refuse to submit to lust. Accordingly, the re-ligious renounces those earthly lusts which are represented by money, by the body, and by self-will; he separates him-self from these by his vows of poverty, chastity, and obedi-ence which in their very austerity represent for him a welcome liberation. In this there is no unconscious self-pity or masochism'. There is only the liberating conclusion of a logic which dares to take literally and without gloss or casuistry the abrupt words of the Gospel. Ever since an Anthony left his town and his family to bury himself in the desert when he heard read in church the gospel passage, "Go, sell what you own," and ever since a Francis of Assisi despoiled himself of all he possessed and returned it all--even :his clothing--to his father, religious life has known the joyous liberty of understanding our Lord literally and ol leaving all to follow Him. This would ,be a childishly imprudent act were it not dictated by a total confidence in the promise of our Lord "The folly of youth," say the wise, when they hear of young men and young women who joyfully put themselves withir the cloister or who bring themselves to enclose their whoh lives within the barriers of obedience and chastity, But i is.not the folly of youth; it is the folly of God who is wise than the wisdom of the prudent, For it is not s~lf-con fidence which brings a person to religious life; and if on should enter in a burst of enthusiasm, the long month of the novitiate would suffice to extinguish it. What leads one to religion is a humble confidence in our Lord who calls, a confidence that is capable of checking an under-standable apprehension and even at times a fear bordering on panic. Like St. Peter, the r~ligi6us makes up'his mind to let down the net only at the word of Jesus. And when the inevitable illusions of the first fervor have yielded place to that maturity of religious life which has been described so profoundly and accurately by Father Voillaume in his recent Lettres aux [raternitds of the Little Brothers of Jesus, then there appears in all its naked grace the power of hope to sustain the religious. More than in his early days, he realizes that what he proposes is humanly senseless; but he also realizes that the power of our Lord sustains him day after day and that it allows him to ad-vance up the steep road which he has chosen. Those who come to us, St. Ignatius of Loyola used to say to his first companions, must pray over it for a long time so that "the Spirit who urges them may also give them the grace of hoping to be able to carry the weight of their vocation with His aid.''s But religious life must not be defined by its negative characteristics, as though a religious placed his. happiness in the restrictions of strict cloister and of stifling prohibi-tions. The truth about religious life--and unfortunately this was left in the shadows in thememoirs of Sister Luke --is that it is the road on which one accompanies Christ as closely as possible; it is the means of imitating and fol-lowing Him as loyally as human weakness permits. If he avoids the sources of earthly desires, the religious knows very well that this is done only to remove the obstacles which spring up between him and Christ. "Whoever wishes to be my disciple," said Christ, "must renounce himself, take up his cross, and follow me." It is not a case of the cross for the sake of the cross nor of suffering for the sake of suffering; it is for the sake of being with Jesus. As Charles de Foucauld wrote in his notes: I can not conceive of a love for Christ] without an overwhelm-ing craving for likeness; for resemblance, and above all for a share in the pains, difficulties, and hardships of life . To be rich, comfortable, living contentedly with my possessions when You Were poor, uncomfortable, living a painful life of hard labor for me . I can not love You in such a way. The separation and the renouncements of religious life which each day accomplish in the religious the "death with Christ" of his baptism are considered by him as so many means of resurrecting with Christ. Better still, his vows appear to him as the attitudes of a person already resurrected. s In Christus, v. 7 (1960), p. 250. 4. 4- 4. Religious Li]e VOLUME 20, 1961 321 Henri Holstein, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS For religious life is not a life of dying, it is a resurrected life. The Lord who is followed is not only the poor work-man of Nazareth and the crucified one of Golgotha, He is also the Lord of glory who appeared on the radiant morn-ing of Easter. And the One to whom virgins give them-selves on the morning of their profession and whom they choose as their Spouse is not only the agonizing Christ of Gethsemane but is as well the Lamb in the paschal splen-dor of His triumph. Already they belong to the procession of virgins who follow the Lamb wherever He goes; their virginal promise is the beginning of the eternal espousals which the Lamb intends to anticipate with them here on earth. By virginity, Christ becomes the only Spouse of their heart. At first view, the vow of chastity is a refusal. Its ef-fect seems to be that of a total renouncement--renounce-ment of the senses, renouncement of affection, renounce-ment of a family. It demands that one leave his family and it forbids all hope of ever founding a family. In reality, however, the vow of chastity is an assuming of a total and exclusive belonging to our Lord. The religious who as-sumes it refuses all idea of a partial belonging; thereby he expresses his desire for that total consecration which re-ligious life realizes as the fullness of baptism. This is the behavior of the new man for whom nothing of the old man, nothing of the partial, nothing of the worldly can make sense. Furthermore, chastity gives its meaning to .the vows of poverty and obedience which in turn give to it their own dimension not of repression, but of a complete spiritual expansion in a total love. For poverty is not the sad ac-ceptance of small privations and of petty dependence; it is the gesture of confidence by one who is no longer anx-ious about those things which the heavenly Father knows we have need of: Moreover, poverty is a refusal to be weighed down by the things of earth and by the cares which afflict those who possess things, making them always fearful of losing or decreasing their precious little treas-ures. The religious knows of another treasure: the love of our Lord which leaves him no time to be occupied in the acquiring of riches, the manipulation of capital, and the preserving of property. Poverty is the testimony of the love given to the divine Spouse by one who has chosen Him in an undivided way. Not~only does the religious place his confidence in Him with regard to his temporal life, he also detaches himself from every self-anxiety and from the monopolizing desire for possessions, d6ing this in order that he might give himself wholly to the Spouse of his soul. Chastity, which is the choosing of our Lord alone,~and poverty, which refuses to allow a person to be monop- lized by any selfish interest, mutually complement each ther. And by the conjunction of these two, obedience re-eives all its meaning. Obedience can easilyJappea~, to be n infantile submission; actually in the eyes of faith it is preferring of the will of God. Defined in the negative 2rms of renouncement of .initiative and independence~ bedience is a caricature that is ridiculous and hateful. It as value only so far as it is an ardent search for the good ,leasure of the One who is loved. Christ Himself said that Iis food was to do the will of His Father. Accordingly, the eligious has only one nourishment: the will of our Lord ;hich is the will of the Father who is the only guide of the ctivity of the only begotten Son: "I always do whatever s pleasing to him." The superior, this brother or this sister who commands ,le, is important for me only because he represents Christ. The abbot," says St. Benedict, "takes the place of Christ." t is Christ whom through faith I hear and see in _my uperior. The man does not interest me, even though he ,e a saint, a genius, or a dear friend. It is Christ who is the ,bject of my obedience; it is to Him that I render my .omage in performing what is commanded me in His ,ame. There is good reason for saying that "obedience is n attitude of faith and love only if it is chaste; that is, if t is inspired.by the exclusive love o,f 9ur Lord." Otherwise t becomes degraded and turns into an interested con- 9rmism or into an Unacceptable infantilism. In religious life, all the elements are consistent with.~ach .ther; chastity, which is an espousal and a consecration ~ Christ, gives its own characteristic mark to a life that is ,oor and dependent through obedience; for these two ows, if they are to be genuine in both great and little hings, imply an exclusive choice of Christ as the only pouse of one's soul. This is why there must be a question here of ~vows, of tatutory promises which oblige one's whole life, thereby arpassing the unstable impulse of a moment of fervor. ¯ ove demands definitive commitments, it engages the ,hole life, it gives assurance for the future. All this which among men is often only an illusion 'hich the future may soon contradict unless the love is ~oted in prayer and nourished by recollection is made ossible for the re.ligious by his original and constantly 2newed confidence in the grace of Him who has called. The religious vow is the instrument of that consecra-on which realizes the baptismal consecration in all the lentitude 9f its demands. If at first view it appears as an ll-out effort to excludeand eradicate the obstacles which re opposed to the perfection of baptismal life, neverthe-ss the religious vow signifies the total consecration of ÷ + ÷ Religious Li~e VOLUME 20, 196]. Henri Holstein, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 324 one's whole life to our Lord. It is included in the initia "consecration" which Christ made when He came into world: "I have come, O Father, to do thy will1" The Ser vant has no other intention than that of accomplishing work for which He was sent into the world; for tliat reasor His sole occupation will be to do the will of the Father In line with this consecration of our Lord and in ticipation of this "intention" of the Incarnate Word, religious places himself in the hands of God. As Fathe Bergh has said: The vow is the expression of a positive consecration to divim love. God loved above everything; there in short is the mean ing of religious life . Its program should not be enunciatec precisely in the abstract terms of poverty, chastity, and obedi ence, but rather under the concrete form 0[ a loving imitatior of Christ poor, chaste, and obedient, of Christ the Servant of th~ Father and of men? Religious Life a Witness in the Church Up to this point we have looked at religious life onl, from the viewpoint of a personal relation that unites to our Lord, Now, however, it is necessary to consider in the Church. To do this, we shall consider two points First, the significance of religious life in relation Church and second, the testimony ~to the Church whirl religious life gives to the world. What then does religious life signify in relation to Church?~In other words, why does the Church, withou whose consent there could not be ~ community or an stitute professing the life of the counsels, recognize amon[ her baptized children the existence of groups which order to live out their baptismal life in a more radical oblige themselves publicly to the observance of poverty chastity, and obedience? It seems to me that by the ligious life the Church expresses her own proper mystery The purpose of religious life is to concretize and to realization to the mystery of the bride who is without In the admirable fifth chapter of the Letter to Ephesians, St. Paul presents the Church as the bride whon Christ has chosen for Himself. In order to make her hol~ and to "present to himself the Church in all her glory, having spot or wrinkle," He delivered Himself for Being submitted to Christ, the Churcti has for Him deference and respect, the discreet and fervent love whicl the Bible constantly presents as the expression of the sponse of the creature to his Creator. This is a virgina union which is consummated in those "nuptials of Lamb" to which the angel invited the seer of the Apoc~ lypse: "Come, I will show you the spouse of the Lamb., "And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming dow, ~ In Revue diocesaine de Tournai, v. 15 (1960), p. 18. tom out of heaven from God, made ready as a young bride :dorned for her husband" (Ap 21:9,2), The holy bride has lo gifts other than those .given ~her by her Spouse--the :lorious heritage which He acquired by His Blood; could he, then, have any other desire thafi to follow her Spouse :nd to accomplish His entire will: "The Church," says ¯ aint Paul, "submits to Christ" (Eph 5:24)? ~ If all Christian living manifests in its own way the nystery of the Church, is it not fitting that certain ones hould have the particular duty:of manifesting the mystery ,f the virginal bride in its complete authenticity? These :re those who among all the redeemed have the singular ,rivilege of following the .Lamb wherever He goes; for 'they are virgins." Theirs is an absolute and undivided ove which blossoms in holy poverty and lov!ng obedience; t is the mystery of the Church and her consecrated ones. Through religious life the Church manifests her own ~roper mystery to herself and to the world.-This is why eligious life is so dear to her; it is the reason why through he voices of her leaders, especially the recent Popes, she ~ever ceases to increase her efforts to maintain the cor-ectness of religious life in its striving for sanctity: Holy Mother Church has always Striven with solicitous ~are nd maternal affection for the children of her predilection who ,ave given their whole lives to Christ in order to follow Him reely on the arduous path of the counsels that she might onstantly render them worthy of their heavenly resolve and ngelic vocation?° Religious, by reason of the vocation which surpasses hem and which they know themselves unworthy of, are an ntimate witness to the Church herself; at the same time hey are a witness of the Church to all those who see them ive. Nourished in the Church and directed by her, they ,ear witness to her and show forth that the Church in its nmost reality is truly the bride whom Christ has chosen or Himself. First of all, religious give testimony to the sense of God. )ur modern world has lost this to the extent, that even qany Christians do not understand the contemplative ire; their attitude is a questioning one: "Of what use is t?" To this I would answer that to judge religious life by ts relation to human utility is to condemn oneself to fisunderstand it. I readily maintain the paradox that eligious life is not justified by its usefulness for men but ,y its value in the sight of God. In its primary meaning it ppears useless to the city of man, for the precise reason hat it exists in its entirety for God. Speaking o[ contemplation, Mademoiselle Ceta-Millard uotes the phrase of Joan of Arc, "God the first to be _'rved." I would be tempted to einphasize this even more ~°Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 39 (1947), p. 114. 4- 4- 4- Religious Lile VOLUME 20, 1961 325 Henri Holstein, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS by saying,, "God the 0nly one to be servedl" This is wh there are in the Church contemplative orders, monasterie of prayer--Carmelites, Poor Clares, Carthusians, Tral~ pists. Their proper witness is to recall to men the im portance of prayer, the urgency of penance, the necessit for adoration. But this same witness is also given by every genuin religious life. Under pain of an anemia'that would quickl become fatal, religious life must always include prayel It can exist and is able to flourish only by reason of spirit of prayer which animates every hour of the day, n matter how filled it may be with the care of the sick, th education of children, the help of the aged or the undel developed. In order to create a suitable climate, there added to prayer religious observance, the rule of silenc~ cloister. One may be tempted to smile at these or to b scandalized by them. Every tradition can manifest a tain rigidity; at times inevitable minutiae may make n ligious life a little out-of-date or unadapted to the time But these are simple human weaknesses which the Churc herself does not hesitate to remedy. To judge religiou tradition by such details is to give proof of pettiness c spirit. W.hat is at stake here and what justifies the ot servances of religious life is the need and the desire to s~ up a favorable climate for prayer. For religious life is a present heralding and'anticipatio of the eternal life to which we are destined by our ba[ tism. It shows forth that this present world is not the onl one, but that there exists a true city in comparison wit which the city of this world with its bustle and its.narro~ cares is vanity. This is the often emphasized eschatologic~ meaning of the vow of chastity: It is an anticipation of th life of heaven; on this earth where the body and sensualit count for so much, it represents "the life of the angels as lived by beings of flesh and blood. Turned toward th heavenly Jerusalem, religious already attempt to live th~ which will be their condition in heaven. "That which will all be," said St. ,~mbrose to the virgins of his tim, "you have already begun to be, Already in this world, yo possess the glory of the resurrection; you live in time, bt without the defilements of time, In persevering in chastit you are the equals of the angels of God." This eschatological witness must be extended to th entirety of religious life. As Father Giuliani writes: Being .a complete break with the world, religious life is witness gwen to the Kingdom of God. Through his life of po erty, chastity, and obedience, the religious makes apparent reality that is begun here below for all, but which will be vealed in its fullness only in the world of the resurrection. is poor in order to affirm that God constitutes the riches of elect in the city of the blessed; he is chaste in order to affirm th there will be no other nuptials other than that of God and H people; he is obedient in order to affirm that the liberty of the creature consists in submission to the full accomplishment, of the will of God. Thus it is that in the Church on earth the re-ligious is a witness to the Church of glory,a But at the same time and by a sort of paradox, religious life also manifests in the Church the charity of Christ who willed to share our condition. To present religious life only as an anticipation of heaven risks considering it as a comfortable evasion, a charge, often enough directed against it. Are religious dispensed from one of the two facets of the great commandment, the one .that commands love of neighb.or? God forbid, for. then they would no longer be Christians. Besides, one has only to recall the multiplication in the Church of charitable orders, insti-tutes, and congregations to reduce to nothing the objec-tion of laziness and flight made against religious life. Contrary to this objection, it can be shown that religious life in its essence is a life of devotion to the neighbor. Pope Pius XlI in the constitution Sponsa Christi has stated this without ambiguity: Since the perfection of Christian life consists especially in charity, and since it is really one and the same charity with which we must love God alone above all and all: men ir~ Him, Holy Mother Church demands of all nuns who canonicallyproo fess alife of'contemplation, together with aperfect love of God, also a perfect love of the neighbor; and for the sake of this charity and their state of life, religious men and women must devote themselves wholly to the needs of the Church and of all those who are in .want. If out of love for Christ a religious consecrates himself to only one thing, the following of Christ as closely as 'possible, then it becomes unthinkable that he should be disinterested in the work of redemption, the salvation of the world. The love of God, which is sovereignly jealous, is also sovereignly generous; this love desires the good, even the temporal good, of all men. The commandment of mutual love .is primary for all religious, and religious life gives testimony in the Church to the charity of God. The witness of religious, then, will be a witness of fra-ternal charity, Of a charity that is patient, inventive, char-acterized by the unfetterable impulses of missionary zeal, of pedagogical discoveries, of parental solicitude. Is there a single kind of suffering, of sickness, or of infirmity which religious life has not sought to care for in the course of history? The almost infinite variety of hospital and teach-ing congregations represent a sort of diffraction of charity towards the neighbor; it is touching to discover at the origin of a given institute the desire to take charge of a particular type of misfortune which seemed to the founder not to have received sufficient care. Although admittedly "In Etudes, June, 1957, p. 397. 4- 4- + Religious Liye VOLUME 20, 1961 327 Henri Holstein, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 328 it is often overly dispersed, such an attitude is a magnifi-cent and multiform witness given by religious life of a tireless and tirelessly inventive charity, renewed each day by prayer and union with Christ. This last characteristic must be emphasized. The apos-tolate and the devotion of religious draw their strength and their constancy from the consecration of their life to the Lord. It is ~his consecration that enables religious to be kind and sympathetic to the unfortunate and the afflicted. Likewise it is this consecration that makes it possible for a religious to interest himself in everything that is human, in science, in literature, in the arts. Did not our Lord who took on Himself every infirmity, also assume by His in-carnation every authentic human value? Conclusion This is the witness to the Church which is constantly given in silence and modesty by religious life. It does give witness for itself, but for the Church which has it, accepted it, encouraged it, and which does not cease to be interested in it. Moreover the religious does not give testimony for his own limited congregation, but the entire Church of Christ. Religious life manifests the magnificent fecundity of Church of which the Vatican Council speaks, in the fra-ternal diversity of vocations and spiritualities, religious life is a permanent sign of both the catholicity and unity of the Church. For on the magnificent path which our Lord calls all of them to follow, there is the same love of Christ, the same faithful adherence to the Gospel as the unique rule of their attitudes, the same charity welcoming every appeal of suffering, of education, of the apostolate. And all this takes place in the calm and serene joy those who, having given Up all for our Lord, know that even here below they have 'received the hundredfold. Who are better witnesses than religious of the joy the children of God and of the children of the Church? True, they do not have a monopoly of this, for they lay claim to nothing, not even the peace which radiates from. their faces. But the joy of their Lord which they always bear about with them--they know well that no one can take it from them. The joy of religious life is perhaps the most constant and the most efficacious trait of its witness. This is so pre-cisely because it manifests itself spontaneous~ly without being conscious of itself and without imposing itself upon those it meets. Julien Green relates that on a walk in the United States during the .war he visited a scholasticate of religious order. To the young man who was showing him through the large establishment, he would have liked ask a single question, a question more important to him han all the details of architecture and of theological programs that the young man was giving him. The .fiues-tion he wished to ask was one addressed to the young man personally, since he was a person.about whom some might think that his ardent youth had been enclosed within the ~ad walls of a seminary and the complicated prescriptions of a rule. The question was this: "Young man, are you happy here?" But, continues the diary of the novelist, I :lid not have the courage to ask the question. "For my guide had about him the radiant air of those who feel themselves loved by heaven.''12 ~ Julien Green, Journal, v. 4, p. 106. ÷ Religious Lile VOLUME 20, 1961 329 I~'; 'LEGRAND The Prophetical Meanin of Celibaq ÷ L. Legrand is on the faculty of St. Peter's Seminary, Bangalore, India. REVIEW FOR ~RELIGIOU~S 330 When Jephte's daughter realized that she had to in fulfilment of her father's vow, she withdrew mountains "to bewail her virginity" (Jg 11:37-40).significant that what she laments over is her virginity For hers.elf, her father, her companions, and those wh~ recorded that tradition, what made her fate so pitifu was not the fact that she had to leave the world in bloom of her youth: this is a romantic view which not belong to the stern biblical times. For the Israelite the pathos of her story lies in the fact that she will experience the joys of matrimony and motherhood. will die a virgin, and it is a curse, a disgrace similar the shame attached to sterility (see Lk 1:25). The prophet have a similar thought in mind when, in their lamenta tions, they give the chosen people the title of "Virgin Israel": "Listen to my lamentation, house of Israel!. has fallen, she shall not rise again, the Virgin of Israel." this text Amos (5:2; see J1 1:8; Lam 1 : 15; 2:13), by callin~ Israel a Virgin, wants to emphasize her misery: she will like a virgin, without leaving any descendants. It is like echo, at the collective level, of the laments of Jephte' daughter. These examples show clearly that according to the Semitic mentality, virginity is far from being an It is a fecund matrimony which is honorable and a of God's blessings (Ps 126). The same applies to men L. K6hler remarks that the Old Testament has no wore for bachelor, so unusual is the idea.~ Christ will change that attitude towards celibacy 19:12). But can we not find already in the Old Testamen a preparation and an anticipation of His teaching? Towards the end of the Old Testament period at leas some groups among the Essenes observed celibacy. This article is reprinted with permission from Scripture, Octobe 1960. pp. 97-105, and January, 1961, pp. 12-20. =Hebrew Man (Loudon: S.C.M., 1956), p. 89. fortunately the authors who mention it are very vague on the motives of that observance. Josephus (The Jewish ,,War, II, 8; 2) and Philo (quoted by Eusebius in Prepara-tion for the Gospel, VIII, 2; Patrologia Graeca, 21, 644 AB), putting themselves at the level of their pagan readers, reduce the celibacy of the Essenes to a misogyny entirely void of any religious value: "They beware of the impu-dence of women and are convinced that none of them can keep her faith to a single man," says Josephus. Pliny (Natural History, V, 17) describes the Essenes as philoso-phers, "tired of life" (vita fessos), who give up. the pleasures of love: Essenian celibacy would be of a Stoician type, but evidently Pliny's competency can be doubted when it comes to interpreting the motives of a Hebrew sect. The Qumran texts might have given us an explanation, but so far on this. question they have not been Very helpful. Though they know of a temporary continence on the occasion of the eschatological war,3 they do not impose .celibacy on the members of the community. On the con-trary, the prologue of the m~inual for the future congre-gation speaks explicitly of women and children,4 and the discovery of female skeletons in the cemetery of the com-munity5 makes it cl~ar that at Qumran as in the sect of DamascusS---if the two sects were distinct--matrimony was at least allowed. In short, a few groups among the Essenes present an interesting case of pre-Christian celi-bacy; the study of thai case might throw some light on the New Testament ideal of virginity, but such a study is impaired by the lack of reliable explanation of their mo-tives. And when we come across first,hand contemporary documentation, it happens that it concerns a sect which ~id not observe celibacy as a rule. ~qremiah, the First Celibate Fortunately the Old Testament presents a much more ancient and clearer case of celibacy: the case of Jeremiah, "a virgin prophet and a figure of the Great Phophet who too was a Virgin and the son of a Virgin.''7 Jeremiah was apparently the first biblical character to embrace celibacy as a state of life. At least he is the first one to whom Scripture attributes celibacy explicitly. Others before him may have abstained from marriage. Ancient Christian writers often suppose that Elijah did so3 and make of him s The War o[ the Children o! Light, VII, 3, 4. iSee Theodore Gaster, The Dead Sea Scriptures (Garden City: Doubleday, 1957), p. 307. 5 See Revue biblique, 63 (1956), pp. 569-72; 6 Document o[ Damascu.~', IV, 20-V, 6; VII, 6-8. 7 Bossuet, Mdditations sur l'dvangile, 109th day. SSee the texts in Elie le prophOte (Bruges: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1956), V, 1, pp. 165 and'189. But St. Augustine was not convinced of the celibacy of Elias: De Genesi ad litteram, IX, 6. 4, The Meaning Celibacy VOLUME 20, 1961 ,+ L. Legrand REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the father of monastic life. But the testimony of Scripture concerning Elijah is purely negative: no wife is mentioned, but the Bible does not speak of his celibacy either. Even if he remained a celibate, we have no indication as to the reasons that prompted him. Jeremiah, on the contrary, in his confessions speaks of his celibacy and explaim it. We may owe this insight on his private life to his intro-spective mood, another quality that was rare in ancient Israel. Anyway he provides us with the most ancient re-flection on celibacy. In it we can trace to its beginnings the biblical doctrine of virginity: The word of the Lord came to me saying: Do not take a wife; have no sons and no daughters in this place. For thus says the Lord concerning the sons and daughters that are born here and concerning the mothers that bore them and concerning their fathers who begot them in this land: They shall die miserably, without being lamented, without being buried. . They shall be as dung upon the face of the earth. They shall perish by the sword and by famine. Their carcasses shall be a prey for the birds of the air and the wild animals (Jer 16:1-4). Those are the terms by which Jeremiah explains his .celibacy. Are those verses to be understood as a positive order of God, given to the prophet when he came of age and enjoining him to abstain from matrimony? It might be said that celibacy was progressively imposed upon the prophet by the circumstances, his isolation, and the per-secutions that made him an outcast. Eventually he would have understood that beneath those circumstances there was a divine ordinance and, with typical Hebrew disre-gard for secondary causes, he would have expressed it in the literary form of an order. In any case, it is clear that Jeremiah gives his celibacy a symbolical value. The loneliness of his unmarried life forebodes the desolation of Israel. Death is about to sweep over the country, Jere-miah's forlorn celibacy is nothing but an enacted proph-ecy of the imminent doom. Calamity will be such as to make meaningless matrimony and procreation. Jeremiah's celibacy is to be understood as a prophecy in action. Symbolical actions were frequent among the prophets. Thus to announce the imminent captivity of the Egyptians, Isaiah walks naked in the streets of Jeru-salem (Is 20:1-6). Jeremiah breaks a pot to symbolize the destruction of the capital (Jer 19:1-11). Ezekiel makes a plan of the siege to come, cooks impure food as the famished inhabitants of the besieged city will have to do, cuts his beard and scatters it to the four winds as the population of Judah will be scattered (Ez 4:1-5:4). In some cases it was the whole life of a prophet which was given by God a symbolical significance: for instance, Hosea's matrimonial misfortunes symbolized the unhapPy~ relations between Yahweh and His unfaithful spouse Israel (Hos 1:3). Jeremiah's life too was symbolical. He lived in times of distress. He was to be a witness of the destruction of Sion. It was his sad duty to announce~the imminent deso-lation: "Every time I have to utter the word, I must shout and proclaim: Violence and ruinsl" (Jet 20:8). Still more: it was his tragic destiny to anticipate in his existence and signify in his own life the terrible fate of. the "Virgin of Israel." "The Virgin of Israel" was soon to undergo the fate of Jephte's daughter, to die childless, to disappear with-out hope. With his prophetical insight, Jeremiah could see already the shadow of death spreading over the coun-try. He could hear already the moaning of th~ land: "Teach your daughter this lamentation: Death has climbed in at our windows; she has entered our palaces, destroyed the children in the street, the young men in the square. Corpses lie like dung all over the country" (Jet 9:20-21). This was 'no mere Oriental exaggeration. What Israel was about to witness and Jeremiah had to announce was really the death of Israel. Israel .,had been living by the covenant and now, by the sin of the people, the cove-nant had been broken. The two institutions in which the covenant was embodied and through which God's graces came down upon the people, the two great signs of God's indwelling in the land. of His choice, the temple and the kingship, would soon disappear. Only a few years more and Nabuchodonosor would invade Judah, burn the sanctuary, enslave the king and kill his children. For the Israelites this would be the end 6f the world, the day of the Lord, day of doom and darkness, day of i~eturn to the original chaos (Jer 4:23-31; 15:2-4). Ezekiel will explain in a dramatic way the meaning of the fall of Jerusalem: the Glory of God will leave His defiled abode and abandon the land (Ez 8:1-11:25). Israel will die and nothing short of a resurrection will bring her back to life (Ez 37:1-14). When the exiles leave Palestine, Rachel'can sing her dirge at Rama (Jer 31:15): her children are no more. Israel as a people has disappeared. God's people has been dispersed. There are no more heirs of the promises and ~children of the covenant unless God repeats the Exodus and creates a new people. A testament is over. God's plan has apparently failed. Death reigns. Prophetically Jeremiah sees all that beforehand. He experiences it proleptically in his flesh. Excluded from the Temple (Jer 36:5), excommunicated so to say from his village (Jer 11:8; 12:6; 11:19-23) and from the community (Jer 20:2; 36:25), he will experience before the exile what it means to live estranged from one's country, away 4. + The Meaning Celibacy VOLUME 20, 1961 L. Legran~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS from the Temple of the Lord. Before the Israelites he knows the bitter taste of a life which has no hope left on earth. "Never could I sit joyful in the company of those who were happy; forlorn I was under the power of thy hand for thou hadst filled me with wrath'~ (Jer 15:17). Thus was Jeremiah's life an anticipation of the im-minent doom. His celibacy too. When death :already casts her shadow over the land, is it a time to marry? "For thus says Yahweh Sabaoth, the God of Israel: Behold I will put an end, in this place, under your very eyes and in your very days, to the shouts of.gladness and of mirth, to the songs of the bride and of the bridegroom" (Jer ~16:9). An end of joy, life, marriage: the country turns into a sheol: there is no marriage and no begetting in the sheol. The command of the Lord to "increase and multiply" (Gen 1:28) assumed that the world was good (Gen 1:4, 10). But now 'that man's sin has aroused death, the Lord re-verses His command: "Do not take a wife; have no sons and no daughters in this place." Jeremiah's life of solitude announces the reign of death and anticipates the end of the world he lived in. His celibacy is in line with his message of doom. It is part of those trials by which "the most~suffering of the prophets," as St, Isidorus of Pelusia puts it;9 anticipates God's judgment. It is ~part of the sufferings which point to the cross, the final expression of God!s judgment. The solitude of the lonely prophet of Anatoth announces the dereliction-of the crucified vic-tim of Calvary. It has the same significance: it signifies the end of an economy in which God's promises and graces were entrusted to Israel according to the flesh and communicated by way of generation. This order dis-appears. When God will raise a new Israel, it will be an Israel according to the spirit .in which one will have access not by right of birth but by direct reception of the Spirit'(Jer 31:31-35). In such a people the fecundity of the flesh will have lost its value. The Negative Aspect of CelibacyI" "'On Account ol the Present Necessity" Replying to a question of the Corinthians concerning virgins, St. Paul's advice is to leave them" in that state: But,the explanation,he gives is not very clear; "I consider that it is better to be so on, account of the present neces-sity" (1 Cor 7:26). What is that "present necessity" that justifies celibacy? Catholic commentators (Cornely, Lemonnier, Allo, Cal-lan, W. Rees, Osty, and others) see in that "necessity;" as Osty puts it, "the thousand worries of married life,"x0 o In Patrologia graeca, 78, 356. ~ Epttres aux Corinthiens ~Bible de ]~rusalem) (Paris: Cerf, 1949), p. 40. or else the imminent persecutions "which'an unmarried person is better able to bear.''11 The standpoint of the Apostle would be purely individual, psychological or as-cetical. On him who is married the burden of the world is more heavy. The celibate, on the contrary, can devote himself fully to the service of God. ,~ Such a thought is certainly not foreign to St. Paul's mind: he expresses it in verses 39 to 35 of, the same chap-ter. Yet this does not seem to be for him a primary consider-ation. The immediate explanation he gives of his pref-erence for celibacy follows another line: "The time is short . The world in its present form is passing away" (vv 99- 31). This shows that his outlook is mainly collective and eschatological: the end of the world is~'drawing near: let us adapt our attitude to these new circumstances; it istime to detach ourselves from a ~d0omed world. "Even those who have a wife, let themlive as if they had none., and those who have to deal with the world as if they had not." Individual considerations are only an application,,of this iiew on the divine economy. It is because the'times we re' living in are the times of the end that it is better not to be burdened with matrimonial obligations, so as to be able to give one's undivided attention to God. The vocabulary used by St. Paul in this section confirms this ~schatological interpretation of his views on cdibacy. The words he uses clearly belong to the vocabulary of apocalyptic literature. The "necess.ity" (andgk~) .whs the technical term used to describe the crisis of the last times (Lk 21:23; 1 The~ 3:7; Ps.Sal,,5:8; Test jos,,2~.4.);.,in th~t sense it is akin to "tribulation (thlipsis) used l~e.re also to describe the present condition (v 98) a.nd which has also an apocalyptic value (Mt 25: 9-28; Ap 1.: 9~; 7:14; 2 Thes ! : 6), Similarly the term used for "time" in verse 29 (ttairos) 'is about a technical term for the period before the Ad-- vent''12 (see Rom 13:11; Heb 9:9; 1 Pet 1:5, 11). It is true that these terms are not always taken in their technical eschatological sense. But their convergence and the con-text make it clear that St. Paul sets virginity against an eschatological background. With Jeremiah he considers celibacy as a testimony that the last times have come, an attitude that presages the end. The difficulty of this interpretation--an.d what makes Catholic commentators to shrink from it--is that it seems to suppose in St. Paul the erroneous belief that the end bf the world was imminent. Can we 'accept such an ex-n W. Rees in Catholic Commentary on Holy Scripture (Edin-burgh: Nelson, 1953), p. 1090. ~ A. Robertson andA. Plummer, First Epistle o[ St. Paul. (Edin-burgh: T. and T. Clark, 1911), p. 152 . ÷ ÷ ÷ The Mean~ing Celibacy VOLUME 20, 1961 L. Le~and REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 336 planation of celibacy without rallying to the consequent eschatology of A. Schweitzer?xa Prat, followed by Huby and Spicq, does not think the objection decisive. He accepts as possible the eschatologi-cal explanation of virginity. Quoting I Corinthians 7:26- 31, he explains: "Is it possible that Paul was haunted by the near prospect of the Parousia? We must not deny this a priori . Lacking certain knowledge, he might have formed an opinion based upon probabilities and con-jectures . It is at least possible that he guided his con-duct and his counsels by such probabilities.TM This inter-pretation can be defended, provided we attribute to Paul not a positive teaching concerning the imminence of an event, the day and hour of which none can know, but an opinion, a desire, a hope without certitude,x~ This is surely sufficient to safeguard biblical inerrancy and remain within the limits fixed by the Biblical Commission, Yet this exegesis is not fully satisfactory, for it leaves the im-pression that the eschatologic~il explanation~of celibacy should not be taken too seriously. It would be one of those views that reflect more the prejudices of the time than the Apostle's personal thought, like the arguments bY which Paul tries to justify the imposition of the veil-on women in the assembly (1 Cot 11:2-16) or the midrashic allusion to the rock following the Jews in the deser~t (1 Cor 10:4) Thus St. Paul would have used the naive expectation of an imminent Parousia to insist on virginity, but that would be a mer_e argumentum ad hominem that should not be pressed too "much. The real and solid ground fo~ celibacy would remain the personal and ascetical con-siderations sketched in verses 32 to 34. Accepting Prat's eschatological interpretation of Paul's arguments for virginity, it may be possible to go deeper b) comparing the thought of the Apostle with that of Jere-miah. Is not the "present necessity" of 1 Corinthians 7:26 parallel with the explanation Jeremiah .gave of his celi-bacy? If so, can we not find in Paul~s eschatological justifi. cation of virginity a lasting value, something much deeper than a pious illusion? It all amounts to a proper evaluation of his eschatolog~- cal hope. Was it a delusion which he had, but which he avoided expressing firmly? Or was it on the contrary a 18 See the decree of the Biblical Commission of June 18, 1915 in Enchiridion Biblicum, 2nd ed. (Naples: D'Auria, 1954),'nn. 419--21. a, The Theology o[ St. Paul (London: Burns, Oates, and Wash bourne, 1926), V. 1, p. 112. Prat explained his mind still more clear!} in a few pages of his final chapter on "The Last Things" which h~ suppressed to satisfy an over-zealous censor. These pages have been published in Prat's biography I~y J. Cal~s, p. 99. a~j. Huby, Ep~tres aux Corinthiens (Paris: Beauchesne, 19.46); W Rees also (op. cir.) accepts an eschatological influence on St. Paul't thought on virginity. central element of his faith and of his spiritual outlook? O. Cullmann, for the early Church in general, and L. Cerfaux, for St. Paul in particular, have shown that is the second view which is true. There is much ~ore than a question of knowing whethei~ Paul or the early Church ex-pected or not an imminent Parousia. For them and for us, the heart of the matter is not the date of the Par0usia but its significance. In Cullmann's terms, what is the connec-tion of the present period of history (the times of the Church) with the past (death and resurrection of Christ) and the future (final resurrection)~1~ The problem is not chronological but theological. St. Paul may or may not have been under the impression that Christ was to return soon. This is rather °immaterial and irrelevant. What matters is that, for him, and for the early Christians, ours are the last days (Acts 2:16 if). The last hour has begun with the death of the Lord (1 Jn 2:18), How long will it be? Nobody knows, but it is clear that now, in Christ, history has reached its end and what we wimess now in the world is the consummation of the end: "The world goes disappearing" (1 Jn 2:i7). The Apocalyp~ses of St. John and of the synoptic Gospels show in a veiled language that the trials the Church has to undergo are the fore-running signs of the consummation, and St. Paul explains that the individual tribulations of the Christians are their share of the Messianic woes (Cor 1:24).xr The present period may be short or long: after all, "with the Lord, one day ,is as a thousand years and a thousand years as one day" (2 Pet 3:8). In any case, Chris-tian life is thoroughly eschatological in character. What-ever may be the actual date of the Parousia, we live after the end of history has been reached. We are just waiting for the consummation of the end, we turn towards it and we prepare it. Parous.ia hangs so to say over our life: even if chronologically it may be still distant, it is theologically imminent: it is the only development of the history of salvation that we can expect, and it gives its color to our outlook on things. Seen in the light of faith, the history we live in and our personal fate appear as signs of the end. Celibacy is one of those signs: it shows that the last times have come. It proclaims that the world is disap-pearing. The end has come. Man's primary duty is no more to continue the human species. It is on the contrary to free himself from a fleeting world which has already 10 O. Cullmann, Christ and Time (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1950), 17 In Col 1:24 "tribulationes Christi" should be translated "the messianic woes" and not "the sufferings ot Christ" (it is thlipsis and not path~ma). The phrase does not refer to the sufferings of our Lord but, according to a terminology common in Judaism, to the trials God's people had to undergo to reach the messianic times, the birth pangs of the new world. ÷ ÷ ÷ The Meaning Celiba~'~ VOLUME 20, 1961 REVIEW FOR REI.IG]OUS lost its substance. This is not an attitude of panic before a threa, tening disaster. It is rather an act of faith in the significance of the Lord's death, beginning of the end. Thus Paul understood virginity exactly as Jeremiah. Jeremiah did not know the date of the destruction of Jerusalem: it is not the role nor the charisma of the prophets to give a chronology of the future. But'one thing he knew for certain: on account of the infidelity of the people, the former covenant had become void. Conse-quently the old institutions like the Temple and the kingship would break like empty shells and Israe!, aban-doned by God, would collapse. H~ knew that his was a time of death. The nuptial songs 'would be replaced by lamentations. Marriage and procreation had lost their meaning. The prophet showed it by his own life: his celibacy was an enacted lamentation. Similarly, St. Paul did not know the date of the end. But he knew for certain that the world had condemned it-self by condemning Christ and that the worldly powers had been nailed down on the cross. It was God's plan to leave some interval before the actual end of all, time to: allow the mystery of iniquity to reach its climax and the Church to spread all over the w~rld. During that time life was to continue and marriage was still legitimate. Yet even married people had to understand that they were no longer of the world they were in. Still using the world, they had to be detached from it. Even in marriage they had to bring an attitude of freedom, a tension towards a higher form of love, the love of Christ 'towards His bride the Church (see Eph 5:25-33). And itis quite fitting that to remind men of the freedom they should keep towards a fleeting world there should be, in the Church, a special charisma (1 Cor 7".'7) of virginity, akin to the charisma of prophecy. The celibate's life is an enacted prophecy. His whole life shouts to the world that it is passing away. As Jeremiah announced to the Chosen People the end of the old covenant, the celibate, new Jeremiah, announces the end of the old world. He embodies the teachings of th~ Apocalypses. He stands as a witness of the day bf the Lord, the day of wrath and of death which began qn that Friday of Nisan when the'Lamb was slaughtered Mount Calvary. + The Positive Aspect ot Celibacy: "'On Account ot the + Kingdom of Heaven'" + What has been said so far has shown that, according to the Bible, and according to Jeremiah and St. Paul es-pecially, celibate life is a prophecy in action, a forebodiiag of the end, a public proclamatioh of the fleeting character of this world. It goes without saying that this is only one aspect of the mystery. There is another one. The last days are not only days of doom: they are also days of resurrection. Jeremiah was not only the prophet of the fall of Jerusalem: he was also the prophet of the .new covenant (Jet 31:31= 35). Similarly for St. Paul the last days are only~secondarily days of woe: primarily, they are the days of the Par0usia~ when Christ will come and hand over to °the Father the world revivified by the Spirit (1 Cor 15). The Apocalypse~ ends its enumeration of th~ eschatological calamities~by the resplendent description~of the~heavenly ~Jerusalem° where everything is niade new (Ap 21). Christ's death:on Calvary was only the beginning of his exaltation 1~-15; 12:32-33). The full, prophetical meaning of virgin-ity is to be understood ifi reference td the whole mystery of death and life contained in Christ. Celibacy is 'not only an enacted prophecy of~th~ imminent doom: it announces also and anticipates the life to come, "the life of the new world in the Spirit. ~ ~ Jeremiah, who.had announced the new covenant, might' have understood that virginity would be the typical state~ in that new life which was.nol6nger to be granted bythe power of the flesh but by the Spirit. But in fact he does not seem to have realized these implications of~his prophetical' teaching. Or if he did, he had no occasion to express it. We have to come to the Gospels to find' this doctrine ex-pounded. ~ ¯ Jesus lived a celibate life. We~can not say that hlscase was unique. By the beginnings of the Christian era, the~ ideal of virginity seems to have been cultivated at least in some restricted circles of Judaism. We.have seen the rather~ mysterious case of the. Essenes. John~the Baptist also must tiave observed celibacy. This movement might explain the pu~rpose of virginity expressed by Mary in Luke 1:34. Jesus assumed that ideal and. by His very life fulfilled the la'tent aspirations it contained. Yet there is very little in the Gospels about virginity. This is not surprising. The Gospels are only factual: sum-maries. There is little in themfor introspection and self-~ analysis. They have,little to say. about Jesus' personal life. They do not tell us how he felt when praying;when work-ing miracles, when undergoing-the trials o~ His 'Passion. It is no wonder,., therefore, ~that they would be ~almost completely silent concerning Jesus' celibacy. This silence gives more value to the one statement of the Gospels in which Christ explained howh'e understood His virginity. It was on an occasion in which he had emphasized once more the law of~ indissolubility o[ matrimony. The dis-as See R. Laurentin, Structure et thdologie de Luc I-H iPa.ris: Gabalda, 1957). The Meaning Celibacy VOLUMEo20~. 1961 ,~ , 339 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ciples could hardly understand the intransigence of the Master. As usual, Jesus tried to bring light to the discus-sion by taking it to a.higher level. The heart of the matter is not the convenience of men but the requirements of the Kingdom of God. The Kingdom of God does make exact-ing demands upon its members. See the case of those to whom it has been given to realize fully the implications of the coming of the Kingdom: they can be compared to eunuchsl "There are eunuchs who were born so from their mother's womb; and ttiere are eunuchs who were made so by men; and there are eunuchs who have made themselves so in view of the Kingdom of Heaven" (Mt 19:12). Though this pericope appears in Matthew 0niT, there is no reason to deny its authenticity, In his book on the synoptic Gospels, L. Vaganay insists several times that Matthew 19:10-12, along,, with several other passages, though appearing in one Gospel only, belongs to the oldest layer of the Gospel formation,~ .and to the most ancient tradition common to the three Synoptic Gospels.19 If the text figures in Matthew only, it is not because it was added afterwards to the~ final edition of Matthew: it is not a case of addition by Matthew but of omission by Marie and Luke. The pericope on the eunuchs has an archaic ring that would, have been shocking to Gentile ears. It is the kind of coarse Semitic paradox, frequent in the Bible, quite appealing to the rough peasants of Pal-estine accustomed to the loud and often brutal eloquence. 6f the prophets. It could hardly be exported to Greece or. even to Asia Minor, Syria., or Egypt. It is not surprising that Mark and Luke preferred to drop it. Yet "its very paradoxical aspect guarantees its authenticity.''20 More-over, the parallel text of Mark seems to leave traces of the amputation. In Mark 10:10, after the discussion with the Pharisees on matrimony, Jesus returns home together' with His disciples. There is a change of place and of audi-ence: Jesus is now in the intimate circle of His disciples. Usually when He retires together with them, it is to teach a deeper doctrine (Mk 4:10, 34; 7:17; 9:30; 10:32). One would expect here, "at home," further explanations on the views He has just exposed. Yet, according to Mark 10:10-12, Jesus merely repeats the elementary explana-tions ivhich, according to Matthew 19:9; 5:32 and Luke 16:18, He would as well give to the crowds. Does not this mean that in the source Mark used, there was "at home" some other deeper teaching imparted to the disciples? But l what other teaching was there except~the logion on the, 1~ L. Vaganay, Le probl~me synoptique ('rournai: Descl~e, 1954), pp.~167, 211, 216, and elsewhere. ~Ibid.,p. 167. iI eunuchs recorded by Matthew? Mark removed this saying, but the operation has left a scar in the text. If the pericope does belong to.th.e origins of the Gospel composition, there is no rea.soia to doubt that it was really an utterance of Jesus and this decides the question of its exact bearing. In the concrete context of jesus'ocelibate life, it is easy to find out to whom the third category of eunuchs refers. When the disciples heard that saying, they could~but think of Jesus Himself and possibly also of John the Baptist.!t is clear that Jesus here speaks of His own case and explains it. He does not advocate self-mutilation; He sets up His own example. He observed virginity and He did it con-sciously "in. view of God's Kingdom." John the Baptist had done it before Him; others would follow. Thus Jesus presents Himself as the leader~ in a line of men who; think-ing of God's Kingdom, will live like ~unuchs, giving-up the use of their sexual powers. But what is exactly the relation between virginity;and God's Kingdom? Why should one remain a celibate prop-ter regnum caelorura (in view of the Kingdom of God)? What is the precise value of that propter (dia ifi Greek)? In biblical Greek, dia with the accusative denotes causality or finality (out of, for the sake of, in view of). It is obvious that, in this'context, the meaning must be of finality. But this is still very vague, too vague to base on it an explana-tion of virginity. We can not build a theology on the strength of a preposition. If the preposition is vague, the phrase "Kingdom of Heaven," on the contrary, is clear enough. The 'Kingdom of.Heaven--or the Kingdom of God, since both phrases = This evidently settles the problem, discussed from the time of Origen onwards, of whether the saying should be understood in a realistic or in a symbolic sense. In Kittel's Theologisches Wb'rterbuch -urn Neuen Testament (TWNT), V. I, p. 590, Schmidt favors the ,ealistic interpretation: the saying would allude to people who ac-ually castrated themselves; it would invite the disciples not to imi-ate them but, at least, to reflect on their earnestness. Origen himself s a proof that there were such'cases in the early Church. But was it o during Jesus' own life time? It is rather doubtful and still more loubtful that Jesus would have set as an example this hypothetical berrant behavior. In the same TWNT of Kittel (2, p. 765), J. chneider maintains the traditional interpretation. The problem could be viewed also from the angle of Form Cdti- ,sin. What are the concrete circumstances in the life of the' ehrly ¯ hutch which led to a reminiscence of these words of-the" Master? 'Chat is the concrete problem to which they were given as an answer. t was most evidently the problem of the virgins, an acute problem as "e know from 1 Corinthians 7, and possibly also, together with it, he problem of the widows "who are truly widows" (1 Tim' 5:3; sde Cor 7: 8). According to J. Dupont, Mariag~ et divorce darts l'evangile ~ruges: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1959), the saying would refer to the case of husbands separated from their wives. This is a rather far- [etched $itz im Leben; moreover it overlooks completely the refer-ence to Jesus' own example. The Meaning Celibacy VOLUME 20, 196~. 341 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS haye the same significancem--appears as a key concept.of the ~synoptic Gospels. It.stands at the center of. Jesus' preaqhing. If not exactly in Judaism, at least in Jesus' mouth, it is ',a comprehensive term for the blessings of .salvation,''23 having practically .the same meaning as "the age to come" or "the life of the age to come2'~24 It is es-sentially an eschatglogical entity,. ,What the Jews had ~ !onged for,-the prophets had promised, and the apoca-lyptic writers had described, the new life coming from above, the new world, ~he new cov.enant imparted by God, t.h.e ~new Israel, the gift of ~he Sp'irit, Resurrection ,and Re,creation: it is all that.which is contained in God's Kingdom. ,Butmand th.i_s is the novelty of Jesus' teaching--with His coming, the eschatological world, the world to come has become present, though it remains unfulfilled. With the coming of Jesus the Kingdom of God offers the para-doxical character of being at the same time future and pre~ent. Jesus assures us that it is already present among us (Mr 12.:28; see Lk !2;21),but He also invites us to pray fpr~it.s coming (Mr 6:10). Exegetes have tried to rationalize ¯ this mystery by reduting Jesus' preaching to one or the other-aspect. The "co.nsequent eschatology" of A. Schweit-zer retaiged only the future aspect: the life-of Jesus was mere expectation of an imminent advent of the Kingdom,': expectation which was deceived by the event. On the con, ffary, the "realized eschatoIogy" of C. H. Dodd retains only the present element: with Jesus, the. Kingdom is .:presen~t and there is nothing ~to expect from the future; escha, to.logical elements should be dismissed as mere apoc- ~alyptical phraseology. Both views are only partial. Kiim-mel2~ and Cullmann,2n among others, have shown-that ihe integral' teaching of Christ combines both aspects. In Jesus the powers of the coming aeon are already active and the future Kingdom of God is already at work in the pres~' ent. The Spirit is given~ Yet He works only like a seed: present" in Jesus and in those who will follow Him, He has still to extend His influence to the whole world tillf His life-giving activity covers and trans,!orms the whole/ crea.t, ion. Such'is the meaning of,the parables ., of , the ¯ ~ "The Heaven" is a term used by the Jews as a' s u b s t i t uGtoed for to" a.yo.id, prgfiouncing the divine name. .m G. Dalman, The Words~o] Jesus (Edinburgh: T. and T. Clark, 1902), p.A35. Dalman shows thaLJesus somewhat altered the mean-ing of the phrase by giving .it a specifically eschatological value in connection with Daniel 7 : 27. So, though in Judaism the phrase should be translated "the kinship of God," it becomes, in Jesus' teachings, ~ynonymous with eschatological salvation. ~ Hence the equivalence with the Johannine theme of "eternal~ ~ ~ Pror~ise and Fulfilment (Naperville: Allenson, 1957). ~ Christ and Time (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1950). Kingdom" (Mk 4 and parallels). We are still waiting for the end: the period we live in is at the same time "promise and fulfilment." This appears especially in the "signs" of the Kingdom. Accgrding to the biblical conception, a "sign" is not a pure symbol, faint image of a distant reality. It is the reality itself in its initial manifestation. In the biblical sign the coming reality is already contained, yet still hidden.27 Kiimmel has shown how in that sense J.esus' .victory over the devils and his miracles are signs of that kind.2s They show already "the coming, consummation of salvation breaking in on the present.''2s Cullmann has added to those signs the main ecclesiastical functions: the missionary preaching of the Gospel,s0 the cult and the sacraments for, in them also, in the Spirit, and "through the merits of Christ, everything is fulfilled which was ac-complished in the past history of salvation and which will be achieved in the future.''~1 In the light of Matthew 19:12 we can add virginity to those signs. Like the miracles and the sacraments virginity is a "sign. of the Kingdom," an anticipated realization of the final transformation, the glory of the world to come breaking in on the present condition. Such is the meaning of propter regnum caelorum. Jesus and many of those who follow Him refrain from sexu~al activity "in view of the Kingdom," that i~, to live already now the life of the world to come. Eschatological life has begun to stir in them and that life will be, and can already be now, a: life which has gone beyond the necessity and the urge of pro-creation. As with their preaching and miracles, Jesus and His "disciples by their celibacy proclaim the advent of the Kingdom, They exemplify already i.n_this world the fu-ture condition of men in the next aeon. As Jesus explained to the Sadducees (Mt 22:30 and parallels), in the world of Resurrection, "one shall neither marry nor be married, one will be like the angels in heaven." This does not mean that man in the Kingdom of God will be asexual, losing his human nature to become a pure spirit in the philosophical sense of the term. Such a philosophical consideration would be quite alien to the biblical mentality. Man was not made as a pure spirit neither in this world nor in the other, and consequently celibacy can not consist in trying to ape the angels. St. Luke explains the exact meaning of this analogy between the risen man and the angels in his rendering of the ~See J. Pedersen, Israel its Li[e and Culture (London: Oxford University Press, 1926), V. 1, pp. 168 ft. ~ Op. cit. (note 25), pp. 105-91. ~ Ibid., p. 121. ® O. Cullmann, Christ and Time. ~ O. Cullmann, Early Christian Worship (Chicago: Regnery, 1955i, p. $5. ÷ The Meaning ~elib~y VOLUME 20, 1961 343 4. L. Legrand REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 344 logion: "They shall neither marrynor be married for they are no more liable to die: for they are equal to the angels and they are sons of God, being sons of Resu~rrection'' (Lk 20: 35-36). The point of resemblance with the angels is not their spiritual nature but their immortality. It is account of his immortality that the risen man need no longer procreate. Life of Resurrection is no more a life "in the flesh," in a body doomed to death. It is a life God, a life of a son of God, life "in the Spirit," in a body transformed by the divine Glory. Hence the functions' the flesh become useless: procreation loses its meaning which was to make up for the ravages of death. The celibate shows by his cofidition that such life has already started. His celibacy testifies to what O. Cullmann has called "the prol~ptic deliverance of the body.''~2 proclaims that, in'Christ, despite the appearances, man escapes the clutches of death and lives in the Spirit. A passage of the Apocalypse echoes that teaching. Apoc-alypse 14:1-5 describes the glory of the Lamb in the heavenly Sion. There His throne is surrounded'by a hun-dred and forty-four thougand men, 'all those who "were redeemed from the earth." They represent the perfect number of all those who, saved by the Lamb, will con-stitute His retinue in the world to come; namely, all the elect. Their main characteristic consists in that "they are virgins" (v '~). Virginity must be understood metaphoric-ally: it means primarily fidelity to God by opposition idolatry, often described in Scripture as a "prostitution." Yet considering the realistic value of Hebrew symbolism, the concrete sense of virginity should not be altogether dismissed: "They have not defiled themselves with women" (v 4).~3 This does not mean that the author would make of virginity a necessary condition for entering the Kingdom. This passage must be understood in parallel-ism with Chapter 7, which also describes a hundred and forty-four thousand men leading an innumerable multi-tude which surrounds the throne of the Lamb. While Chapter 14 they are all virgins, in Chapter 7 they are all martyrs. This should not be understood as meaning only martyrdom can lead to salvation. But it does mean that one has no access to the Kingdom unless "he washes his =O. Cullmann, The Early Church (London: S.C.M., 1956), pp. 165-76. In his article CuIlmann does not extend his conclusions to the question 0f celibacy. He shows only that marriage has a special theological value since it "corresponds to the relation between Christ and His Church" (p. 173; see Eph 5:29). This view is quite true but should be completed by an awareness that the love between Christ and the Church is of an eschatological--hence virginal--type, The Spouse is a Virgin (see 2 Cot 11:2). Similarly, even conjugal love will have eventually to turn into the-eschatological virginal agape o! which celibacy is a prophetical type. = See L. Cerfaux and J~ Cambier, L',~pocalypse de saint Jean lue aux Chr~tiens (Paris: Cerf, 1955), pp. 124 ft. robe and makes himself white in the blood of the Lamb" (Ap 7:14). The martyr is the typical Christian for he shares the most closely in the cross of his Master. One cim not be a Christian unless he shares in.some way in the fate of the martyrs, in the cross of Christ: The same interpretatiori can be extended to the fourteenth chapter. "As martyrdom, virginity is eminently representative of Christian life. Even as' one can not be saved~without participating in the dignity of martyrdom, one can not be saved without participating in the dignity of .virginity. Virginit~y is a heavenly perfection, an anticipation, for those who are called to it, of what will be the final destiny of all in the Kingdom of Heaven.TM In the world to come all are virgins~ Even those who are married must keep their eyes on that ideal and know that their love has to turn into virginal charity. Those who remain celibate "in view of the Kingdom of Heaven" be!ong to the virginal retinue of their heavenly King the Lamb. As St. Gregory of Nyssa says: Virginal life is an image of the happi~aess that will obtain in the world to come; for it contains in itself many signs of the good things which in hope are laid before us . For when one brings in himself the life according to the flesh to an end, as far as it depends on him, he can expect "the blessed hope and the comin.g 9f the great God,;' curtailing the interval of the in-tervenlng generations between himself and God s advent. Then he can enjoy in the present life the choicest of the good things afforded by the Resurrection.= Thus the mystery of virginity, as any mystery of Chris-tian life, has a double aspect. It has a negative aspect: it represents the death of Christ and, through it, looks towards the complement of that death, the end of a!l, the apocalyptic consummation. It has also a positive aspect: it shows forth the new life in the Spirit, initiated by the Resurrection ofChrist, to be fulfilled at the Parousia. This doctrine is best embodied in the Lukan account of the virgin birth of Christ. Mary is a virgin (Lk 1:34) and, in her virginity, through the operation of the Spirit, she gave birth to Christ, the "first born" of the new world. Thus, in her virginal fecundity, she anticipated and even originated the re-creation of the world through the Spirit. In that account it must be first noticed that Luke-- and Mary--following the Hebrew mentality, do not extol virginity for its own sake. In the Magnificat Mary describes her condition of virgin as a condition of humilitas; that is, a low condition (Lk 1:48). This was exactly the term used by Anna in 1 Samuel 1 : 11 to qualify her disgrace of having ~' Ibid., p. 125. ~ De virginitate (Patrologia graeca, 46, col. 381 ft.). The theme of celibacy as heavenly life or angelic life is frequent in patristic litera-ture. See L. Bouyer, The Meaning o] Monastic LiIe (New York: Kenedy, 1955), pp. 23-40. ÷ ÷ ÷ The Meaning Celibacy voLUME 20, 1961 4- 4- 4- no child. In fact the whole narrative of the virgin birth of Christ in Luke is built in parallelism with the narratives of the Old Testament d.escribing how sterile women were made miraculously fecund by God.36 To some extent.Luke puts Mary's virginity on a par with the sterility of those women. By remaininga virgin, Mary shares in the wretch-edness of Jephte's daughter, in the abjection of the poor women who had no child (Gen 16:4; 1 Sam 1:1~16; Lk 1:25). She accepted willingly the utter poverty and the op-probrium of those who had no hope of reaching, in motherhood, their human plenitude and who conse, quently were rejected by the world as useless. But in the new Kingdom by God's transforming power, there is a reversal of the human values, The lowly are ex-alted (Lk 1:52), the poor possess the earth (Lk 6:20), those who weep laugh (Lk 6:21), the sterile and the virgins are visited by the power of the Spirit and become receptacles of the divine life. These are simply various aspects of the revolution of the cross turning infamy into glory, death into life. The glorious fecundity of Mary's humble vir-ginity contains already the mystery of the gross. Thelhope, lessness of her virginity points to the hopelessness of the cross: it proclaims, that the world is doomed and that no salvation is to be expected from the flesh. But the fecundity of that virginity presages the triumph of the cross: by the power of the Holy Ghost life will spring from death as it had sprung from the closed womb of a virgin. Thus Mary's virginity announces the disappearance of the world of flesh and the rise of a new world of the Spirit. Jeremiah's celi-bacy had prophesied the first part of the mystery. To Mary it~was given to see the fulfillment and to prophesy, in her life, both aspects of the imminent consummation. Mary's Virginity was prophetical: it turned towards the cross and anticipated the end; it ina~ugurated the~new worldwhere the flesh has no power, for that world knows no other fecundity than the fecundity of the Spirit. The charism oPvirgiriity in the Church continues and com-pletes that prophetical fUnction. Like Mary and Jesus, the Christian celibate renounces any worldly hope," for he knows th~it the world has no hope to propose. But, in his loneliness, he announces and through faith already en-joys the esc, fiato~logical visitation of the Spirit. ' u See S. Lyonhet, "Le r~cit de l'Annonciation," in L'ami du Clergd, 66 (1956), pp; 37-8, and J. P. Audet, "L'annonce h Marie," in Revue biblique 63 (1956), pp. 346-74. REVIEW FOR .RELIGIOUS BARRY MCLAUGHLIN, ~s.J. The Identity Crisis and , Religious Life We often hear it said that the child stabilizes the family. After the first four or five years of marriage the love of the honeymoon is usually exhausted: A new love unfolds. Ideally, it is the affection both parents share for the child that forms the basis for this newmand more maturebond of conjugal love. Perhaps a similar phenomenonJ occurs in religious life. After the first four or five years (or even much later sin~e circumstances and persons differ) a process of reintegra-tion takes place. The religious must re-examine and re-interpret his initial motives and goals. CA newer,° fresher love must supplant the older, faded love. And because ~he natural aids which married life affords are lacking', this transformation to a higher and more perfect love requires supernatural grace and natural maturity. There is no dichotomy here; rather, there is an inter-action. Since God has Himself implanted laws in nature, it is logical to suppose that He will follow the natural patterns operative in the human personality when He works through grace. And grace is, of course, necessary for any form of spiritual development. Yet it is imperative to emphhsize the Scholagtie'axiom that grace builds upon nature. Maturity, on the natural plane, is a prime requisite for supernatural progress and for this transformation of love. To hone Occam's raz6r to a new edge: miracles are not to be multiplied withofit necessity. Like sanctity, maturity develops slowly. For a mah is not born a saint. He is born to be a saint. The distinction is significant: men are not saints all at once; with God's grace men become saints. But-men first'become mature. Maturity, as the natural correlate and predisposition for sanctity, takes time. Psychologists point to a series of crises preliminary to its attainment. " We are especially interested in the "crisis of idehtity" ÷ ÷ ÷ Barry $. McLaughlin, S.J., 3700 W. Pine Bou-levard, St, Louis 8, Mis-souri, is doing graduate studies in psychology at St, ~'~Uis ~Jniversity. VOLUME 20~ 1961 347 the crisis contemporary With the process of re-integration and re-evaluation which occurs once the novelty and freshness of the early years of religious life have disap-peared. Resolution of the identity crisis allows a more mature and transformed love to unfold. But several more basic crises must b~ resolved first. ÷ ÷ ÷ Barry M cLaughlin, S.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 348 Development Toward Maturity One of the most widely used theoretical conceptions of psychological development.is the neo-Freudian synthesis proposed by Erik H. Erikson. At a given age, because of physical, intellectual, and emotional maturation, a human being willingly and necessarily faces a new life task. A Set of choices and tests are prescribed for him by his ciety's structure. This new life task presents a crisis. The outcome of this crisis can be successful graduation or im-pairment of the life cycle (which will aggravate future crises). Each crisis prepares for the next--each is a step taken in the direction of the ne~t, until the adult identity is attained. The first crisis is the one of early infancy. What is at stake here, the psychologist feels, is the question of whether a man's inner mood will be determined more by basic trust or basic mistrust. The outcome of this crisis is de-pendent largely upon the quality of maternal care. The mother's affection and her gratification of the child's needs lend a certain pr~edictability and hopefulness in spite of the urgency and bewildering nature of the baby's bodily feelings. This first crisis corresponds roughly to what Freud has described as orality; the second to anality. An awareness of these correspondences is essential for a true understand- ]ng-of the dynamics involved. The second crisis, resolved usually by the fourth year, develops the infantile sources of the sense of autonomy. In this period the child learns to ,~iew himself as an indi-vidual in his own right, apart from his parents although dependent upon them. If there are conditions which in-terfere with the child's achievement of a feeling of ade-quacyv- if he fails, for example, to learn to walk during this ~period--then the alternative is a sense of shame or doubt pervading later adult consciousness (or uncon-sciousness). The third crisis is a part of what Freud described as the central complex of the family; namely, the Oedipus com-plex. According to the opinion of many psychoanalysts, this crisis involves the lasting unconscious association of sensual freedom with the body of the mother; a lasting association of cruel prohibition with the interference of the father; and the consequent love and hate in reality and in phantasy. This is the stage of.initiative; correspond- ing to Freud's phallic stage of psychosexuality. It is the period of vigorous reality testing, imagination, and imi-tation of adult behavior. The major hazard to the solution of this crisis is an overly strict discipline which produces a threatening conscience and flae internalization of rigid and exaggerated (non-rational) ethical attitudes. In the fourth stage the child, now between six and eleven years old, becomes capable of learning intellectually and collaborating with others. The resolution of this stage decides much of the ratio~between, a. sense of in-dustry and a sense of tool-inferiority. A man learns simple techniques which will prepare him for the tasks of his culture. A. rational sense of duty and obligation is also involved here, and the laying aside of fantasy and play for the undertaking of real tasks and the development academic and social competefice. This stage corresponds to the.Freudian latency period. The Identity Crisi~ We are chiefly concerned inthis ~rticle with the identity crisis, first of~all in its broader, cultural dimensions, and then within the specific framework of the religious life. The young~adolescent in our culture must~clarify his understanding of who he is and what his role is to be. He must forge for himself some central perspective and direc-tion, some effective integration, ou_t :of the remnants of his childhood and the hopes of his anticipated adulthood. Failure to resolve this crisis can result in neurosi~s,-psy-chosis, or delinquent behavior. More frequently,, however, there is a generalized sense of role diffusion. The possession of a role within the culture and,of standards of cultural living constitutes the social side of identity. In addition, there is an optimum ego synthesis to which the. individual himself aspires. The Judeo-Chris-dan tradition and the ideals of the American heritage stress the immeasurable worth of _the individual person. The dignity of the individual, respect for the individual, self-det~rmination these are phrases which attest to our consciousness of the value of personal identity. Each per-son is certain of what is in fact true: that he stands at the center of a unique network of relationships, experiences, influences. He is different and he knows it. Consciousness of the value.of personal identity and a strong sense of personal uniqueness do not,. ho.wever, neces-sarily imply a resolution of the crisis of identity. In some young people, in some classes, at certain periods of history, the identity crisis will be minimal; in other people, classes, and periods this crisis will be clearly marked off as a criti-cal period. There is considerable evidence that in our cul-ture today the identity crisis is of maximal importance, that most individuals undergo a prolonged identity crisis. ÷ ÷ ÷ Identity Crisis VOLUME 20, 1961 349 ÷ 4. 4. Barry McLaughlin, $.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 350 During this crisis there is a desperate urgency, often con-cealed under the camouflage of social conventions, to resolve the problem of what one should' believe0in and who one should be or become. Three crises follow the crisis of identity; they concern problems of intimacy, generativity, and integrity. What role diffusion is~to identity, its alternative and danger, isolation is to intimacy, egocentric nonproductivity is to generativity, and the lack of consistent values is to integ-rity. When~ the identity crisis is prolonged, these three crises are interwoven with it. The resolution of the identity crisis brings concomitantly the resolution of intimacy, gen-erativity, and integrity crises: A lasting sense of ego identity is the characteristic of the mature adult. The Identity Crisis in the American Culture Victor Frankl, one of the leading .proponents of Ex-istential psychology, has pointed out that Freudian psy-choanalysis has introduced into psych.ological research what it calls the pleasure principle or the will-to-pleasure. Adler has' made psychologists conversant with the role of the will-to-power as a main factor in the formation of neurosis. But Frankl maintains that man is neither dominated by the will-to-pleasure nor by the will-to-power, but by What he'would call man's will-to-meaning; that is, man's deep-seated striving for a higher and~ultimate mean-ing to his existence. Frankl .has perhaps overstated his case; it is more likely a question of emphasis. But the will-to-meaning does re-flect the modern concern with personal identity and, in this sense, is probably as strategic in our time as the study of sexuality was in Freud's time or the study of the drive" for power in Adler~s time. , It is signific~int,-too, that concern with matters of identity is greatest in this country. Psychologists and psychoanalysts recognize th~at in America especially adult patients hope to find in the psychoanalytic system a refuge from the discontinuities 6f existence and a re-gression to a more patriarchal one-to-one system. America has been a melting-pot, a country which attempts to make a super-identity otit of the' identities imported by its constituent immigrants. Previous agrarian and patri-cian identities have been" submerged in the wake of the rapidly increasing ,mdchanization of industrial technology. Frequently the American man has been unable to formu-late his new identity. Depreciation-of.the American way of life is, of course, the favorite indoor sport of cultural critics. The per-tinence of their remarks is not always apparent,.yet in the present context several criticisms'are relevanf. They point out some Of the reasons for the identity crises of con- temporary Americans. From these criticisms we can gain some understanding of the identity crisis of the American man and ultimately of the identity crisis of the (American) religious man. In Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman, Biff'exempli-ties an American "type." Society 'has failed to provide him with a clearly defined role: "I just can't take hold, Mom, I just can't take hold of some kind of life.''1 He-lives in constant frustration, unaware of who he.is or what he is to be. And many psychoanalysts feel thatBiff's number is legion. That Biff should address his problems to Morn is sig-nificant, During World War II the expression "Momism' came :into existence :as a means of denoting a type of per- _~onality commonly :encountered in ybung men. There is ¯ n excessive dependence upon and 'attachment' to, the ,nother, with but feeble' attachment to:the father and no =lear image gained through him of man's role. Psychol-ogists have commented upon the probable roots of this phenomenon: the absence, both physically and psycho: logically, of the father from many American urban, and .uburban homes. Because of the conditions of .ecdnomic ~nd social life, many fathers have neither the opportunity qor the inclination to "take on" their sons in the way that a, as common, for example, in the days of the older patri-archal society. This is the first cause we wish to mention "or the prolongation of the crisis of identity: . the failhre ~,f the father in our culture to give to the son a clear image ,f the masculine personality and the role of man. ~ :~ 'Critics have also noted the American fear of loneliness. Individual identity is sacrificed in an effort to stay. close o the herd, to be no ~different from others in" thought, eeling, or action. To stand aside, to be alone, is t6 assert ¯ personal identity which refuses to be submerged. So-iety will not tolerate this; innumerable social features are lesigned to prevent it: stadiums to accommodate~thou-ands at sport events, open doors of private rooms and of- ¯ ces, club cars on trains, shared bedrooms ih colleges and ,oarding houses, countless clubs, organizations; associa-ions, societies, canned music (for gilence~is unbearable) ,iped~into hotel rooms, railway cars, and supermarkets. Yet one of the surest signs of the resolutio~ of' the iden-ity crisis is an increased capacity for .being alqne, for ~eing responsible for oneself.~The gradual process that ¯ ill end in perfect identity involves 'an awareness of he'fact that there are decisions in life and aspects of life's truggle tha~t a l~erson mu~t fa~e alone. ~o Fgr~. a~ young person becomes dearer in his own mind ,f his role in society and of his personal identity he is a In J6hn Gassner (ed.), Best American Plays: Third Series, 1945- 951 (New York: Crown, 1952), p. 19. Identity, ~risis~ VOLUME 20~ 196~. 4. 4., 4. Barr~ MeLaughlin, $.L REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 352 likely also to become more aware of how he differs from others. Gradually he becomes conscious of his isolation from others, not because others are pulling away but be-cause the fullness of personal identity cannot be achieved without.some degree of aloneness. Here we have a para-dox: the more richly a person lives, the more lonely, in a sense, he becomes. And as a person, in his isolation, .be-comes more able to appreciate the moods and feelings of others, he also becomes more able to have meaningful relationships with them. But the unwritten code of our national culture pro-hibits aloneness, and this is the second causative factor for a prolonged identity crisis: the obstacles our society im-poses to the cultivation'of a sense of personal identity. Finally, we see what the critics refer to as the "deper-sonalization" of man by the mass media. "Man is losing himself," Emmanuel Mounier wrote, "in his handiwork instead ~of losing himself in his consciousness; he has not been liberated.''2 There is much that could be said about these factors and their deleterious effects upon a sense of individual identity; but much has already been said by the critics, What is of primary interest here is that mass media standardize thought by supplying the spectator ~ith a ready-made visual image before he has time to construct a rational interpretation of his own. Man has come to'ac-cept ideas and attitudes without having submitted these to himself for intellectual decision. Man is so much a part of the verbal noise going on around him that he does~not notice what the noise is conveying to him. There are, of course, many other causative factors contributing to our national and individual identity crises Millions of young people face these and other psychologi-cal and social obstacles to identity and transcend them in one way or another. If not, they live, as Captain Ahab says, with half their heart and with only oneof their lungs, and the world is the worse for it, The Identity Crisis in the Religious Life The religious man--and by this is meant the man pos~ sessing a fundamentally God-oriented personalitydis of course, immune from cultural influences. Yet as Erikso observes in his book on Luther,., He is always older, or in early years suddenly becomes older than his pla.ymates or even his parents and teachers, and focuses in a precocious way on what it takes others a lifetime to gain a mere inkling of: the question of how to escape corruption i living and how in death to give meaning to life. Because he e periences a breakthrough to the last problems so early in hit life maybe such a man had better become a martyr and seal his message with an early death; or else become a hermit in a soil ="A Dialogue with Communism," Cross Currents, v. $ (195~ p. 127. i! tude which anticipates the Beyond. We know little of Jesus of Nazareth as a young man, but we certainly cannot even begin to imagine him as middle-aged? This short cut between the youthful crisis of identity and the mature one of integrity makes the religious man's problem acutely intense. In addition, the method of "indoctrination" to which he subjects himself aims at sys-tematically descending to the .frontiers where all ego dan-gers must be faced in the raw, where personal guilt is un-covered, drives tamed by prayer and asceticism, and where, ultimately, self must abandon and transform its own identity. In a sense, only "religious geniuses''4 are cgpable of such an enterprise. Yet the man or woman who enters religious life specifically chooses to face this challenge. Per-haps the most important ramification of the life of the vows is the consequent necessity of mature personal iden-tity. There are those, however, who consider it dangerous, unreasonable, and even in a sense against nature, to com-mit a young person in perpetuity to the religious life. Martin Luther became convinced that religious commit-ment was impossible to a man under thirty years of age. A young man of twenty does not know what th~ future may have in store, what sacrifices he may have to accept. He has only a very general view of what religious life will be and his final renunciation can only be made when he knows in detail and as a whole what such a life entails. Yet St. Thomas held that a person could decide upon a religious vocation years be~fore puberty. This poses a problem which involves more than a ques-tion of the religious vocation. It is concerned 'with one of the fundamental aspects of the problem of life. The ma-ture man is future-oriented; for him life is a continuous whole. In his youth he finds that he must commit him-self to an identity, to a course to which he will remain bound in the future. His acts are weighted with the future. If a man refuses to commit himself, identity becomes im-possible. Marriage and the religious vocation are the two funda-mental forms of commitment. When a man marries he is unaware of the trials and responsibilities'of marriage; he does not know what it is to have a dependent wife and children. But the will to do that which is irrevocable de-pends on the strength of a person's love. A love which is genuine takes possession of the whole of the personality. Then it desires to be irrevocable. This notion of commitment is most perfectly delineated in the thought of Gabriel Marcel: I see it like this. In the end there must be an absolute com- " The Young Man Luther (New York: Norton, 1958), p. 261. 'Jean Dani~lou, s.J., God and the Ways o] Knowing (New York: Meridian Books, 1957), p. 10. ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 20, 1961 ÷ ÷ ÷ Barry MeLaugh!in, $.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 354 mitment, entered upon by the whole of myself, or at least by something real in myself which could not be repudiated with-out repudiation of the whole--and which would be addressed to the whole of Being and would be made in the presence of that whole. This is faith. ObViously, repudiation is still a possibility .here, but ,cannot be justified by a change in the subject or object; ~t can only be explained by a fall? This notion, of personal commitment leaves little room for the so-called "temporary vocation" (which is actually a contradiction in terms), even when this is understood as an actor the permissive will of God which allows a person, for his sanctification, to live for some time as a religious and with religious vows. Although a person does grow and develop as he lives out his commitment, although his in-itial love deepens into a more perfect and more mature love, there can be no possibility of a repudiation. This would be a denim of identity and is only explained by a "fall." These are strong words, and are not, of course, meant to be dogmatic. The nature and binding force of a religious commitment such as life with vows requires much more adequate theological analysis. Yet the problem remains. The religious man must be mature before, his time. Ultimately it is a question of the initial acquisition of what Lindworsky calls the "'voca-tional ideal": Before every man there stands~ a picture of that which he should become; and never will he be fully at peace, undl the ideal shown in that picture has been brought to perfect rgaliza-tion. G This provides a focal' point for personal identity within the religious vocation. Perfect identity is not something acquired in its fullness all at once. It comes at the termina-tion of a long and gradual process of growth. Each step along the way presents new difficulties and necessitates closer scrutiny and deeper meditation upon the nature of the identity chosen. There must be a gradual transforma-tion and identification with Christ. ¯The vocational ideal guides the individual to this new identity within the confines of a life of the vows. Gradu-ally the significance of each vow becombs apparent. Each involves a secondary crisis of its own, a danger to personal identity. Once each of these crises are faced and resglved perfect identity is realized. By his vow of poverty the religious man is thrust once more--thi~ time on a much more conscious and more spiritual level--into the primary crisis of trust. In a real (though qualified) sense, religious experience, as Erikson points out, retraces our earliest inner experiences, giving ~ Being and Having (Glasgow: University Press, 1949), pp. 45-46. o Johannes Lindworsky, S.J., The Psychology o! Asceticism (West-minster: Newman, 1950), p. 15. angible form to vague evils and reaching back to the .~arliest moments of childhood. The child must learn to rust his mother; the religious man ~must learn 'to rust God. Only then can he venture out into the.apparent cold which lack of possessiong m~ans to his natural un- ]erstanding and to his provident instincts. Otherwise he "alls into a new and much worse predicament. When a nan has adopted poverty, he will take daily action to keep dive his trust in God; and from the constantly reiterated :onfirmation ~of this t~'ust, he will draw nourishment "or ~his love of God. Voluntary poverty is an attempt to live so strongly upon he inner surge of love for Christ that external supports :an be reduced to a minimum. It is an attempt to be as ~nuch as possible. It is an incentive for a man to restore ~rder of the right kind to his own life and in his relations o God and his fellows. To he more a man and more truly ~ man, as completely and perfectly a man as~possible~: hat is the purpose of the yow of poverty. Failure to achieve uch an identity is its danger. .Chastity also entails a crisis. Th~ religious community "isks becoming an assembly of old bachelors or old maids, whose egoism is concealed beneath a facade of renunci-ation. The mainstay of the family is conjugal love and the ove between the parents and their children. In tl~e re-igious life it is God alone who is the bond, and the corn-non life cannot be sanctified except insofar as the person, ~y loving God, passes beyond its natural aspects.-The ring of mortification is always there because the affections :stablished between members of a community do not form hat personal link which is characteristic of the family. The religious man finds affection, but this is on a piritual plane, leaving certain sides ofthe human per-onality unsatisfied. Men do not go to religious life to ind what they normally find in the family. There is friend-hip, but basically a religious man's life is in God, and n,God one is alone. Fundamental solitude: God is the ~ortion of his inheritance. Psychologically, this involves a sublimation of the nost radical type, yet Freud himself admitted its possi-bility and its actual fulfillment in St. Francis of Assisi nd others. A new and different identity must be forged. In order to arrive at being everything, desire to be noth-ng," wrote St. John of the CrossF This crisis involves, ~asically, final surrender of self-identity and union and bs0rption into the identity of Christ. The vow of ob'edience entails an equally radical crisis. Fhe religious man's identity threatens to be submerged. The Ascent of Mount Carmel, 1, 13, I1 in E. A. Peers (ed. and rans.), The Complete Work o] St. John o] the Cross (Westminster: ~ewman, 1953), v. 1, p. 62. Identity Crisis VOLUME 20,~ 1961 355 4. 4. Barry McLaughlin, $.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 356 Existentialist literature especially makes this point: "W~ want freedom for freedom's sake and in every particula circumstance," writes Sartre. "Those who hide their com plete freedom from themselves out of a spirit of serious ness, I shall call cowards.''s Self-identity seems impossibh without the freedom to choose, to determine one's owt conduct and profit or suffer by the consequences. This i a notion rooted in contemporary American Protestan ideals. So much so ttiat William James admitted: It is difficult even imaginatively to comprehend how men po~, sessed of an inner life of their own could ever have come t think the subjection of its will to that of other finite creature recommendable. I confess that to myself it seems something o a mystery? There is a paradox here. When'the religious ma empties himself of his own will (not to other finite crea tures, of course, but to God), at that moment the whol world enters in to fill the vacant space. The saint has n~ particular desires. He seeks only to be allowed to disap pear. He reveals the world to mankind as God has willet it. Yet more than any other man, the saint is responsible He is aware of his obligation to choose for himself. Th terrible duty of the saint is the duty to choose consistentl the "chOice of God. There is one other aspect to the identity crisis in re ligious life, the professional aspect. There are two side to the identity crisis: achievement of personal identity an~ of social identity. We have discussed in some detail th religious man's growth in personal identity. There is als the social role of religious men and women in Americ today, the role of teacher and scholar. Much has been wrftten and much said about the pligh of the American Catholic educational endeavor. We ar concerned here with but one facet of these discussions the undeniable need of Catholic educators to dedicat themselves completely to the subjects they teach. Thi dedication must mean a commitment of the sort which in volves the individual completely in the field he is intel ested in, so much so that he is eager and enthusiastic to se and to contribute to its progress. And since there is fi way to dedicate oneself to learning from the outside, th individual must devote himself totally to his field. A b] stander is too uncommitted. As Father Ong has observed If there is anything that our American Catholic education suffel from, it is the fact that too many of us are not committed enoug to the subjects we profess, not dedicated to them with that tot~ ~Jean-Paul Sartre, Existentialism (New York: Philosophical brary, 1947), pp. 54--55. ~ The Varieties o! Religious Experience (New York: Longma Green, 1909), p. 311. :~ edicati~n which, for us, should be part of our religious dedica- ~on of God Himself, who makes human knowledge to advance.10 It would seem that many religious men and women, who ,ave to a great extent resolved aflm~i~rably the problems of ,ersonal vocational identity, have not resolved the prob-ems of social identity, have not seen clearly their own role s teachers and scholars. Perhaps the opposite is 6ften true, ,ut in either case it is apparent that there is need "for a uccessful resolution of the identity crisis on both levels nd for an integration at an even higher level. ",6nclusion The gyeatness of man consists in his origin, his nobility s a creature, as a child of God. But more than this: there s also his vocation; man is called upon to co-operate with he divine liberty in the creation of his own identity. This nvolves a process of what Dietrich Von Hildebrand calls 'confronting all things with Christ.''n The saint alone ,as solved the identi.ty crisis perfectly. He has transformed fis self-identity into the identity of Christ. Each saint s a pane of glass of a different color through which Christ's adiance shines. But we all are called to be saints. And if maturity is a ,rerequisite to sanctity, the resolution, with grace, of cer-ain psychological crises is necessary. Above all the reso-ution of the identity crisis, usually concomitant with the ,rocess of re-examination and re-evaluation which occurs ,nce the novelty of the early years of religious life has ,assed, prepares the way to sanctity. Each religious, like he saint, must deepen and transform his love. There is a continuity in life which the saint makes nanifest. The child persists in the man; the mature adult ,as grown out of" childhood without losing childhood's ,est traits. He retains the basic emotional strengths and he stubborn autonomy of the infant, the capacity for onder and pleasure and playfulness of the preschool ears, the capacity for affiliation and the intellectual curi- ,sity of the school years, and the idealism and passion of dolescence. He has incorporated these into a new pattern ;ominated by adult stability, wisdom, knowledge, re-ponsibility, strength, and prudence. The saint is not a man apart from, and outside of, the ;retchedness of everyday life. He is not a man in corn- ,union with God and out of communion with other men. ~ecause he lives in close contact with God, because he has onformed his mind to the mind of Christ, the saint is the ~Walter Ong, S.J., American Catholic Crossroads (New York: ¯ *acmillan, 1959), pp. 104-05. n Translormation in Christ (New York: Longmans, Green, 1948), ¯ 74. VOLUME 20, 1961 357 one man who is in communion with us, while all other live apart. This is why the saint is the per[ectly mature individual at once the most sensitive and the most spiritual o[ men The most sensitive because nothing and no one in world finds him unresponsive, since he is always in mediate and loving contact with persons and things. He the most spiritual o[ men, ~or every movement o[ his sonality has its origin in the realization that Christ measure o[ all things, the source o[ his own identity. embodies per[ectly the words of St. Paul: "So we shal reach per[ect manhood, that maturity which is propor ¯ tioned to the complete growth of Christ" (Eph 4:13). Barr~ McLaughlin, $.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 358 ROBERT F. WEISS, S.J. The Christ of the Apocalypse Toward the end of his long life in the closing years of the first century, our Lord's beloved disciple, the apostle St. John, penned from his place of exile on the island of Patmos a beautiful message of hope and encouragement for the Christian churches. The style: 0f this letter, the last book of the Bible, is apocalyptic; that is, it deals with the revelation made to John of things present and pastas well as future. Its theme 'is the ,triumph of Christ. In images of surpassing beauty, St. John describes for all ages the glorious King of kings. Although it is the same Christ of the Gospels whom we meet here, a great change has come over Him. He is still "like unto a son of man," but He no longer has the weaknesses and limitationS of His humanity. We will see Him in settings of majesty, power, and triumph--all of which are meant to stir up hope, love, and courage for the struggle ahead, for the difficulties and persecutions the Church must always suffer. He has already conquered. This is Christ as He is now, and yet His victory is being constantly repeated. The message is, therefore, one of personal concern for all Christians of every .age. "Blessed be the man who reads this prophecy," says John, "and those who hear it read and heed what is written in it, for the time is near." For each one of us the battle is now raging, and the end of our own struggle is approaching. Christ conquered sin and death long ago; but as long as this world lasts, the conflict goes on. Not until the last day will Ghrist:s triumph be final and complete. But for us, each individual, the time is near and Christ is coming soon. John begins his epistle in a Trinitarian setting, using a salutation much like Paul's as he wishes peace and blessing to the seven churches in Asia from "Him who is and was and is coming"--the Father--"and from the seven spirits befOre His throne"--the Holy Spirit represented by His Robert F. Weiss, S.J., is a faculty member of St. Louis University, 221 North Grand Boule-vard, St. Louis 3, Mis-souri. VOLUME 20, 1961 359 + 4. 4. Rober~ F. Wei~s~ SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 360 sevenfold gifts--and "from Jesus Christ." The full title, Jesus Christ, used here in connection with the other per-sons of the Blessed Trinity, is not used again until the very last verse in the letter. John seems to prefer Jesus alone, in this way emphasizing the humanity of the glorious Christ and His identity with the historical person who lived and suffered. Christ alone as a title occurs only four times. All of these are in the last half of the book in settings of solemnity and majesty and in close association with name of God. John's favorite title for Christ is, as will later, the Lamb, although he also .uses Son of God and Son of Man. The apostle's cast of mind is revealed by the prayer Of praise he offers to Christ at the outset--"to Him who loves us and has released us from our sins." This Christ "has made us a kingdom of priests for His God and Father." Just as Israel when set free from Egypt acquired a national life under its divinely appointed king, so Church, redeemed by the Blood of Christ, makes up a holy nation. As kings, the faithful of Christ will reign all the peoples; as priests, united to Christ the Priest, they will offer to God the Whole universe in a sacrifice of praise. In his magnificent opening vision, John sees the glorified and idealized human form of Christ: a being like a man, wearing a long robe, with a gold belt around his breast. His head and hair were as white as white wool, as white as snow; his eyes blazed like fire; his feet were like bronze, refined in a furnace, and his voice was like the noise of mighty waters. In his right hand he held seven stars; from his mouth came a sharp double-edged sword, and his face shone like the sun at noonday. The garments are the first object to catch John's attention. The figure wears a long robe of the priesthood and girded with the belt of royalty. His snow white hair His eternity, and His eyes blazing like fire repre-sent His divine knowledge. Feet glowing like bronze furnace symbolize His power and utter stability. His voice, which is compared to the thundering rush of a waterfall, and His face, shining like the noonday sun, which recalls the glorious transfiguration on Mount Tabor, give Him a majesty that is terrifying. In His right hand are seven stars representing the seven churches over which He has power and care. It was among seven lampstands that this figure had appeared; they are likewise churches and signify His omnipresence. From His mouth comes the sharp two-edged sword of the word of God which has power to condemn or reward. This is He who is "coming on the clouds, and every eye will see Him, even the men who pierced Him." John is so overawed by the sight that he falls at the feet of Christ like a dead man. But our Lord lays His hand him and tells him not to be afraid. For He is the first and tlie last, that is, the Creator and the last end of all things. He is the Living One, an idea prominent in the tliinking of the Hebrews. Theirs is a living God, not the dead idols of their pagan neighbors. Chi'ist ~a~ defid, crudi~ed; yet here He is alive forever and ever. He has risen from the dead never to die again. More than that, He holds the keys of death and the underworld, over which as God He alone has power. He carries the key of David and thus has ab-solute authority to admit or exclude anyone'from the city of David, the new Jerusalem. He "operis and no one shall shut, and'shuts and no one shall open." This is the Christ of the Apocalypse, infinitely majestic and august. He wiil come in the end seated on a cloud, and with a single swing of His sickle the' harvest of the earth will be reaped. His prhdominant characteristic is unbounded power. Only once or twice, it is said, does the tenderness of Christ's compassion or the intimacy of His fe!lowship with men make itself felt in this book. Yet when it does, it is unexpected and most poignant. Afier rebuking and praising, encouraging the faithful and castigating the tepid, Christ concludes: I reprove and discipline all whom I love. So be earnest and re: pent. Here I stand knocking at the door. If anyone listens to my voice ~and opens the door, I will be his guest and dine With him, and he with me. I will permit him who is victorious to take his seat.beside my father on his throne. In apocalyptic literatur~e Christ is frequently pictured as a judge at the door. Hire the beloved disciple sees Christ not as a judge but as a friend inviting us to :the closest kind 6f intimate companionship. For the Orientals the Lidea of perfect friendship is represented by the notion of taking a meal together. Since it is not uncommon for John to use words with additional connotations, even with a triple meaning, he may well be alluding here also to the Holy Eucharist, in which Christ Himself becomes our food, as ~vell as to the banquet prepared for the faithful in heaven. Even in this setting of gentle and tender intimacy, the glory awaiting the loyal friends of Christ is not forgotten. The place asked by their mother for the sons of Zebedee is to be had by all those who are faithful unto the end. The risen and ascended Christ is all in all to the members of His Church. He loves them; He redeemed them; and He has made them what they are, a new Israel, a kingdom of priests. In the succeeding visions, John prefers to speak of Christ as the Lamb. This is not to be looked on as a photograph or a picture or even as an imaginative'representation. Like the other images used, it is a symbol, a thought-representa~ tion to be taken according to its intellectual content. ~Th~ images are not essential and sho~uld not be retained. The ÷ The Christ o] the Apocalypse VOLU~E 20, 1961 361 + + ÷ Robert F. Weiss, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 362 author wishes to convey an idea, and that is all the image should be used for. He gives us a succession of these sym-b~ Is~rom ~hich he wishes us.to take an idea and then move on to the next. This is especially true of the various qualities ascribed to Christ whom he will repeatbdly iefer to as simply the Lamb. This is not the sacrificial Lamb of Isaiah about whom John is speaking; rather it is the Lamb as a leader. He the strong one, the sheperd 0f the faithful who will guide them.to the springs of living water, the fountain of which is God Himself. It is this Lamb alone who can break the seals and open the book upon which are written the secrets of history-~the story of the great sufferings to endured, the conflict that will rage, and Christ's ultimate and magnificent victory. The Lamb, has seven horns signify His unlimi~ted power and seven eyes as symbols His vast knowledge. As so frequently in the peculiar apoc-alyptic style of this letter, the number seven is used to completeness and plenitude. The Lamb as John sees Him appears as if slaughtered, and yet He lives. He has conquered sin and death. He was slain as a victim, but only the splendid results of sacrifice remain. To Him indeed belong the ~rerogatives of God. He is spoken of more and more, as John's account proceeds, in the same breath with God the Father. He has a share in the works of God. "Our deliverance is the work of our God who is seated on the throne and of the Lamb." In the glorious day of the heavenly Jerusalem, Christ Lamb will reign with His Father. John saw this Jerusalem: the holy city, coming down out of heaven from God, in all the glory of God. It shone with a radiance like that of some very precious stone, like jasper, clear as crystal . I saw no temple in it, for the Lord God, the'Almighty, and the Lamb are its temple. The city does not need the sun nor the moon to shine in it, for the glor~ of God lighted it, and the Lamb is its lamp. The heathen will walk by its. light. The kings of the earth will bring their splendor to ,t. Its gates will never be shut by day--for there will be no night there and they will bring the splendor and the wealth of the heathen into it. Noth!ng unclean will ever enter it. In this day God will make "all things new." The apostle is trying to describe heaven in .this passage using the language of the Old Testament with which his readers were familiar. The essential jo~ of this state of glory is that God will be with those who have remained faithful and they will be with Him. Everything good will also be in heaven, but the presence of God will be everything. God and His Christ are its sanctuary; God's glory will light it; the Lamb will be its lamp. There will be no need for a temple other than God or for the intermediary of religion, for God Himself will be possessed. The Lamb in the day of judgment can be terrible in His anger, and as a shepherd He rules with a rod of iron. But there is an arresting touch of tenderness in the glimpse we are given of the glorious victory to which .He will lead His followers: They are the people who come through the great pe~secuti0n, who haveowashed their robes white in the blood of the Lamb. That is why they are before the throne of God and serve him day and night in his :temple, and he who is seated on the throne will shelter them. They will never be hungry or thirsty again, and never again will the sun or any burning heat distress them, for the Lamb who is in the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and will guide them to springs of living water, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes., Seel God's dwelling is with men, and he will live with them. They will be .his people and God himself will be with them. Those who come through the time of tribulation are those who have washed their :robes in the blood of the Lamb. This symbolic expression includes both the idea of salva-tion through the death, of Christ and theoactivity of-the faithful' themselves signified by the washing. Their reward will be to participate in the worship of God day and night. With typical Hebrew reverence for the name of God, John speaks of Him "who is seated on the throne" rather, than repeat the sacred name: Just as in the land of promise there was to be a cessation of suffering, so in heaven the faithful will be eternally free from all care and want and every sort of mental distress or bodily pain. For the Hebrews water was scarce and very precious; a plentiful source of it signi- ,fled abundance and prosperity. The water here is a symbol of God's grace, and God is its source. John's vision is in terms of the Old Testament prophecy of Isaiah, but now in Christ the fulfillment is assured. There isone other appearance of Christ which must be mentioned, perhaps the most striking vision of all. Before, we saw the temple; now heaven itself is opened, andwe see the magnificent, triumphant Warrior-King followed by the armies of heaven: Then I saw heaven thrown open and there appeared a white horse. His rider was called Faithful and True, and he judges and wages war in uprightness. His eyes blazed like fire. There were many diadems on his head, and there was a name written on him which no one knew but himself. The garment he wore was spattered with blood, and his name was the word of God. The armies of heaven followed him mounted on white horses and clothed in pure white linen. From his mouth came a sharp sword with which he is to strike down the heathen. He will shepherd them with a staff of iron, and will tread the winepress of the