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Issue 28.6 of the Review for Religious, 1969. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard. S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor,.as well as books for review, should be sent to I~VIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 631o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 32~ Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Dt, imty of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building, .539 North Grand Boulevard, Saint Lores, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. 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Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. NOVEMBER 1969 VOLUME 28 NUMBER 6 BROTHERS THOMAS MORE, C.F.X:, AND LEO RYAN, C.S.V. Development: A New Challenge to Religious In a majority of the articles written these days in religious journals, the emphasis has been largely on areas which are of great concern for those seeking ways to achieve renewal and adaptation in the religious life. As a result, new and valuable insights have been gained in such areas as government, the evangelical counsels, prayer, community, personal responsibility, the aposto-late, secularization, and formation. There is, however, one significant movement which has yet to be fully treated in journals written for re-ligious. And because this movement could elicit from the religious families in the Church a response corre-sponding to that which characterized the great move-ments in the past, we want to draw the attention of religious to this phenomenon so that it" can become a + growing part of the literature on renewal and adapta- + tion. This movement can best be described as development. Because development is still more or less in its infancy stage, only gradually emerging into a full-blown move-ment in society and in the Church, it is not our in-tention to give here a definition of the term. Instead, we want to describe a number of events and programs which will illustrate not only the potential dynamism of de-velopment but also the implications which it has for religious institutes. On January 6, 1967, Paul VI issued the motu proprio Catholicam Christi Ecclesiam setting up the Pontifical Justice and Peace Commission. The objective of this Commission would be "to arouse the people of God to 869 Thomas More, C.F.X., is superior general of the Xa-verian Brother~; Antonio Bosio 5; 00161 Rome, Italy. Leo Ryan, C.$.V., is general councilor of the Viatorian Fath-ers and Brothers; Via Sierra Nevada 60; 00144 Rome, Italy. VOLUME 2B, 1969 + 4. 4. Brothers More and Ryan REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS full awareness of its mission at the present time, in order on the one hand, to promote the progress of poor nations and encourage international social justice, and on the other, to help underdeveloped nations to work for their own development." 1 Shortly after establishing this new curial organ, Paul VI issued his famous encyclical, Populorum progressio, which is the charter of the Pontifical Commission and its basic text. The call of the encyclical is to all the Church, which is to be educated, stimulated, and in-spired to action by it. Cardinal Maurice Gilroy of Quebec, president of the Pontifical Commission, and Monsignor Joseph Gremil-lion, its secretary, set about the arduous task of travel-ing throughout the world to create national commis-sions for justice and peace witkin bishops' corr[erences. After this work had been completed, the commission turned to the Union of Superiors General in Rome to solicit its support. Monsignor Joseph Gremillion per-sonally addressed the Union, urging it to establish con-tact with the Commission and to take an active role in the promotion of the aims of development within all the religious families of the Church. in May, 1968, the Union unanimously approved the writers of this article as its official liaison with the Pontifical Commis-sion. Now that the liaison committee has been in existence for one year, it is in a position to discern a number of trends which indicate the response religious institutes will make to development in the immediate future. The remainder of this paper will be devoted to an elabora-tion of these trends and a brief description of the more important programs from which these trends have is-sued. At the present time we see four trends in development which have significant implications for religious insti-tutes. It is very dear now that development has an ecumenical character. Second, because of the nature of development, religious institutes will be looking for- 1Father. Arthur McCormack makes the following clarification: "The name Justice and Peace must be understood in the following way: Justice means social justice within and between nations so that every human being should have conditions of life in keeping with his human dignity, which will enable him to progress towards a fully human development--to the fullness of a more abundant life~ and enable him also to make his contribution to building a new and better world. Peace is to be understood, not in the sense of main-raining peace or working for peace in the political or diplomatic sense, but in the sense of building peace--the new name for peace is development--producing the conditions that are fundamental for peace, a more just, humane, better world in accordance with para. 76 of the Encyclical, Populorum Progressio" ("The Pontifical Com-mission Justice and Peace," World Justice, v. 8 (1967), pp. 435-55). ward to training specialists in planning, sociology, tech-nology, and social justice. Towards this end, some re-ligious institutes are establishing within their general administration a secretariat for development, Third, there is a growing spirit of collaboration within re-ligious institutes, since it is evident that no religious family can tackle the problems with its own resources. Finally, there is a search for a new theology of develop-ment. 1. Ecumenical Character oI Development In the spring of 1968, the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace, the Catholic .Rural Life Society, under the direction of Monsignor Luigi Liguitti, SEDOS, FERES, and ISS2 sponsored a two-day seminar on the Church in developing countries at the theologate of the Oblates of Mary, Rome. This seminar was arranged specifically for superiors general and their curias to acquaint them with development. However, interest in the meeting was so great that it turned out to be a cross-section of some of the most important European bodies having a Third World orientation. At the meet-ing were representatives from several Roman Congrega-tions, the German mission-sponsoring agencies Adveniat and Misereor, Caritas Internationalis, Protestant ~6b-servers, sociologists, and a number of developing organi-zations from Italy, France, Germany, Belgium, and Hol-land. The Catholic-Protestant team under the direction of Canon Houtart (FERES) and Professor Egbert de Vries (ISS) gave the audience a report of their three-year Ford-funded study of the Churches' work in the four developing countries of India, Brazil, Indonesia, and the Cameroons, in the areas of education, medicine, and social work.3 But of far greater importance than any of the socio-logical findings of the three-year study of FERES-ISS was the ecumenical character of the study and the seminar. The meeting was tangible evidence of the growing spirit of collaboration between the Catholic Church and the World Council of Churches, especially in an area which was once the most sensitive one in ~SEDOS (Servizio di Documentazione e Studi) is a cooperative documentation and research venture on the part of about thirty superiors general in Rome. FERES (Federation Internationale des Instituts Catholiques de Recherches Socio-religieuses) is the inter-nationally well-known research center in Brussels. ISS (Institute for Social Studies) is the Protestant counterpart of FERES and is lo-cated at The Hague. 8 A report of this seminar has been published by SEDOS under the title, The Church in Developing Countries;.Via dei Verbiti, 1; Rome, Italy. ÷ ÷ Development VOLUME 28, 1969 871 4" 4" Brothers More and Ryan REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the past--the developing countries. It is not surprising, then, that one of the most important conclusions ac-cepted by the superiors general was that cooperation between the different denominations be extended. Moving quickly from theory to action, the superiors general of several congregations devoted to medicine shortly after the seminar entered into discussions with the Christian Medical Commission, a semi-auton-omous organism related to the World Council of Churches. As a result of a number of meetings between Mr. J. McGilvray of the Executive Committee of the CMC, Geneva, and these religious congregations, the CMC Executive Committee reached the important con-sensus this past March that five Roman Catholic con-sultants would be appointed to the Commission after nomination by the Secretariat for the Promotion of Christian Unity. These consultants were present at the Commission's general assembly in August of this year. A third example of ecumenical cooperation in de-velopment is of far greater significance, since it was mounted on a larger international stage. In 1967 the World Council of Churches and the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace formed the E~ploratory Committee on Society, Development and Peace (SODEPAX) as an experimental instrument for ecumenical collaboration. Father George H. Dunne, S.J., formerly of Georgetown University, was appointed by Dr. Eugene Carson Blake and Cardinal Maurice Roy as joint secretary of this committee. SODEPAX held a conference in April, 1968 on world cooperation for development in Beirut, Lebanon, to which it invited sixty specialists from all over the world. The participants were Protestants, Orthodox, Catholics, observer-consultants from intergovernmen-tal bodies, and two participants from the Muslim com-munity of Lebanon.4 The conference was the first attempt on the part of the World Council of Churches and the Roman Catholic Church to jointly study and plan the involve-ment of the Christian bodies for the betterment of society. It is a concrete example of the way churches will unite their moral forces towards achieving human dig-nity and world peace. One of the conclusions of the meeting states this objective in terms which make an appeal to all religious: This Report has suggested many ways in which the Churches, acting together, can foster development programs both in ¯ A report of this conference has been published under the title, World Development, the Challenge to the Churches; Publications Department; The Ecumenical Center; 150 Route de Ferney; Geneva, Switzerland. the advanced and developing countries. Joint action for de-velopment will serve basic Christian aims. To work for devel-opment is to express in particular measures the aspiration for brotherhood and human dignity for every individual. And it can also be a significant contribution toward a more orderly and peaceful world. Development can gradually reduce the gross imbalances which promote instability; working together can encourage a wider sense of community among mankind; and the strengthening of international agencies will create structures for common effort and order. These three examples of ecumenical collaboration in the field of development are growing evidences of the need for all religious institutes to work together with other Christian bodies to concert their actions for play-ing their part in the long task of building a more stable international order of well-being and peace for the whole human family. This ecumenical spirit should be built into the thinking and planning of general and provincial chapters, constitutions, formation programs, and the apostolic work of religious families. It should also be the concern of national conferences of re-ligious institutes. The work is of too vast proportions to be left to the interest of those few religious who have up until now been involved in development. 2. Specialists and International Vocation The second trend in development in religious com-munities is the deployment of personnel to act as specialists in the Third World, along with the estab-lishment within general curias of a secretariat for de-velopment. Shortly after the seminar on the Church in develop-ing countries, Misereor approached the superiors general with an offer to provide funds for the training of some specialists who would assist bishops' conferences in de-veloping countries in setting up offices of trained experts in planning. The offer came as a result of the dis-cussions at the seminar concerning the lack of the skills of planning for the proper deployment of dwin-dling personnel, the retooling of personnel for meeting the new needs of the day, and the necessity for co-operating with governments in national planning. The time had come, it was agreed, for religious com-munities to become deeply involved in this modern approach and to train experts who would have com-petency as well as apostolic zeal. After many months of discussions with the superiors general, Misereor agreed early this year to provide funds for the training of highly qualified development experts for the countries of Indonesia, East Africa, and the Congo. Other countries would be added as the pool of experts becomes larger. As the agreement was finally 4, 4, Development VOLUME 28, 1969 873 Brothers More ¯ and Ryan REVIEW FOR ~ELIGIOUS worked out, the funds are in the form of a scholarship for 'the trairiing of experts in the fields of social ac-tion, science, communication, cooperatives, trade unions, medicine, agriculture, and technology. These experts would be seconded to central advisory and coordinat-ing bodies in the selected countries and would devote themselves specifically to the analysis of the problems, the planning of a strategy, and the coordination of pro-grams with national planning. This new type of service would be rendered by the religious ~ommunities only at the invitation of interested bishops' conferences of one of the three countries. This proposal clearly indicates that as the religious communities become more involved in social action, they will need more experts in this field. It also be-comes increasingly clear that religious congregations will now turn their efforts towards promoting and edu-cating a corps of highly qualified men and women who will act not for their individual communities alone but in teams for ihe good o[ society. This task force con-cept of highly competent religious from different in-stitutes could be the most dramatic response of religious congregations to the challenges provided in the Third World. From what we have just said, it is evident that re-ligious will have to respond more promptly and in-telligently to what we would call the apostolate of internationalism. To act as specialists in the Third World, to become globally involved in development, re-llgious will be entering more actively into what Barbara Ward calls our planetary community, a community which. cuts across all the lines and barriers of nations and races. In such a community, religious ought to feel very much at home, especially since the vision of all founders of religious communities extended beyond the hori-zons of a particular country or culture. That spirit which inspired founders to send their men and women to meet the needs of mankind in all parts of the world must now impel their followers to send trained and competent personnel to participate in international bodies which are working to achieve the humaniza-tion' of mankind. This apostolic thrust could be as dramatic and far-reaching as the missionary journey of Francis Xavier to the Indies. There are a number of religious currently engaged in this international apostblate. Those we have met or know of are: Father John Schutte, S.V.D., who was recently appointed by Pope Paul as assistant to Mon-signor Joseph Gremillion, Secretary of the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace; Father Arthur Mc- Cormack, M.H.M., special consultant to the same Com-mission; Father Philip Land, S.J., Gregorian University, Rome; Father George H. Dunne, s.J., SODEPAX Joint Secretary, Geneva; Father Thomas F. Stransky, C.S.P., Secretariat for Promotion of Christian Unity; Mother Jane Gates, Superior General of the Medical Missionary Sisters, who is working with the World Council of Churches in the field of medicine; and Father Theodore M. Hesburgh, C.S.C. The first indication we have of a religious institute becoming serious about development and the promo-tion of the international apostolate is the derision of Father Pedro Arrupe, superior general of the Jesuits, to establish a secretariat for development within the curia of his general administration. Father Francis Ivern has been appointed by Father Arrupe to head this secretariat. Similar offices could be set up in many of the larger congregations of men and women. In the case of smaller units, it is quite possible that interested and competent religious could be, as a matter of policy, trained to take their place in general curias. Others could be as-signed to work on task forces, national bishops' con-ferences, international or national research centers, na-tional conferences of religious, and the pontifical or the national conferences of justice and peace. 3. Spirit of Collaboration It is quite evident from what has been said above that there is growing within religious congregations and institutes a greater spirit of collaboration to make the response called for by Populorum progressio and the objectives of the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace. Since the work of development is of such gigantic proportions, no one rellgious institute can unilaterally plan its involvement in it. No one individual religious, or even a cadre of them, can shoulder the heavy re-sponsibility of this new apostolate. It must be the work of all religious, or the efforts for the humanization of mankind will be considerably weakened. One model of collaboration already exists in Rome. It is an organization to which we have already re-ferred many times, namely, SEDOS. This voluntary organization of a number of superiors general, formed only six years ago on the initiative of a few missionary congregations, has in a short time given proof of the results that can flow ~om the spirit of collaboration. Within a span of just one year, for imtance, SEDOS has held a seminar on development, a symposium on the theology of development and mission, and a con-÷ ÷ ÷ Developme~ VOLUME 28, 1969 875 Brotmheurl s. RM~oarne REVIEW FOR.RELIGIOUS terence on intermediate technology. As noted already, it has worked out an agreement with Misereor to finance the education of a number of specialists for developing countries. It is also actively engaged in es-tablishing guidelines for a mutual exchange of ideas between the World Council of Churches and medical missionary congregations in the field of medicine. SEDOS is unique in a number of ways. Its member-ship consists of both men and women religious. Its ex-ecutive secretary is Father Benjamin Tonna, a secular priest from Malta, who is a professional sociologist. The director is Miss Joan Overboss, a multilingual expert from Holland. But its uniqueness lies principally in its spirit of co-operation among the superiors general in facing the new problems evolving from the Third World. Since there was no structure among religious institutes or in any Roman curial congregation to help religious fami-lies prepare themselves for their involvement in the work of development, superiors general united their forces to establish a documentation and research center which would enable them to convert from a family business to a modern and efficient concern. Thus, for the first time in the Church's history, religious congre-gations have banded together at the highest level to make their contribution in an area in which the Church in recent years has focused its principal at-tention. This same spirit of collaboration is evident in such countries as the Congo and Indonesia, where religious are working together with bishops' conferences in es-tablishing planning secretariats. Quite recently we read an appeal by the East African conference of religious to its membership to turn itself to the question of de-velopment and to form a task force that would assist the bishops' conferences in establishing a secretariat for development. If religious congregations are to involve themselves in this apostolate, this spirit of cooperation must con-tinue to grow. Many religious want to see their in-stitutes take decisive measures to execute the social objectives of Populorum progressio and to work actively to achieve the goals of the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace. The younger generation of religious also want to become actively engaged in working to create conditions within and between nations that are in keeping with the human dignity of man. But they need some concrete programs to give them direction. As a step towards establishing some programs, con-ferences of religious and individual institutes could give attention to the following suggestions made by the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace at the end of its first plenary meeting of March, 1967: 1. That Bishops' Conferences, teaching orders and all those concerned with education should be encouraged to include the teaching of international social justice in the curricula of schools, seminaries, universities and all institutions of learn-ing. 2. That retreats, sermons and specifically religious instruc-tion should emphasize the discussion of world justice, ~. That such curricula should be, where possible and suit-able, worked out on an ecumenical basis. 4. That competent study groups, again when suitable on an ecumenical basis, should continue the work of elaborating a doctrine of world-wide development and justice. 5. That lay groups of all kinds be invited to include world justice in their programs of adult education and, when com-petent to do so, assist the Commission in suggesting programs for the mass media. 4. A New Theology ot Development A concern very often expressed at the seminar on de-velopment alluded to above was that what was needed was an honest exchange of views on the theological foundation of development. In fact, one of the prin-cipal resolutions of the seminar asked the Congregation for Evangelization to put the theology of development on its agenda for its next meeting and for eventual presentation to the Holy Father as agenda for the next Synod of Bishops. Another resolution requested a sym-p. osium on mission and development. These two actions reveal that a theology of develop-ment has become a matter of urgency for religious. So long as the effort of missionaries was expended 'within the limits of a parish or a diocese, no special problem presented itself. But today the organization of develop-ment has become a much more complex affair; it has assumed the dimensions of whole nations, of entire continents, of the planetary community itself. While such a task calls for specialists, the ordinary missionaries run the danger of no longer seeing and understanding the role they are called on to play in the task of de-velopment. They stand, then, in perplexity when faced with the contradictory opinions of theologians. If some theolo-gians insist on the irreplaceable character of the proc-lamation of God's word and of the sacramental ministry, missionaries taken up with the tasks of development be-cause of the demands of the situations in which they find themselves and the concrete needs they daily encounter are troubled by an uneasy conscience. If other theologians stress the primary role of development, then those mis-sionaries whose tasks are those which belong to the more + + + Developmem VOLUME 28, Z969 8?7 traditional patterns of the apostolate begin to question the value of what they are doing. It was in response to this perplexity that the superiors general of SEDOS held a mission theology symposium in Rome this past April. Theologians from Europe and other parts of the world were invited to tackle this prob-lem first among themselves, and second in open discus-sions with the generals and their staffs.~ This symposium's importance lies in the fact that it has brought before religious congregations the theologi-cal dimensions of development, while adding to the growing literature on tlfis subject. This hard confronta-tion with the realities of development is a hopeful sign of growth within the Church and religious institutes. And instead of standing before the reality with perplex-ity and bewilderment, religious institutes, with their sense of global dedication, ought to be in the vanguard of working out a new theology of development. This mission theology symposium should set the pace for all religious families of the church. It has been our intention in this paper to draw the attention of religious to the phenomenon of develop-ment so that it can become a growing part of the litera-ture on renewal and adaptation. As a contribution to this literature on renewal, we have pointed out four major trends we have noted over the past year in the field of development as they affect religious institutes. The contribution religious can make to development, we are convinced, is enormous. The single attempts being made here and there must spring into a massive effort that will engage religious in a venture that has taken the center stage of the Church. If development is the new word for peace, it is a new challenge to religious. ~ Preparations are being made for the publication of the pro-ceedings of this symposium in various languages. The English edi-tion will be published by Maryknoll Publications. Brothers More and R~an REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JAMES A. CLARK Placing U. S. Personnel in Latin America Once a bishop or provincial decides to give manpower assistance to Latin America, he quickly discovers the dif-ficulties of attempting to find the wisest way to assign priests, brothers, or nuns to projects in Latin America. Since few authorities can agree on proper priorities for such placements, a superior is wise to recognize im-mediately that optimum, effective assignment of per-sonnel throughout Latin America represents an unat-tainable goal. In the past, assignment of American religious in the southern half of the hemisphere resulted from acciden-tal factors. The high ratio of Americans in Peru derived from the efforts of a zealous nuncio who welcomed them warmly. The large numbers of Americans in Guatemala result from a statistic that indicated that Guatemala had the worst proportion of priests to peo.ple of any Latin American country. Bewildered superiors anxious to respond to appeals of the Vatican to send missionaries to Latin America seized on this fact as a reason to send their subjects to Guatemala. Localized concentrations of Americans usually can be traced to a friendship begun at the Vatican Council between North and Latin Ameri-can Church leaders or through the bonds of a religious community existing in both halves of the hemisphere. The complexity of properly placing people in Latin America appears as a new problem because previously the allocating of workers to missionary lands did not require any accommodation with a structured Church in the foreign situation as is the case now in Latin America. One locale appeared as needy and worthwhile as another for apostolic laborers. The presence of a viable and strong Church in Latin America demands :extreme delicacy in interposing foreigners to serve that Church. Yet the need is so general and widespread in Latin America that from a spiritual point of view it has be- 4- ÷ James A. Clark is a staff member of the apostolic delegation at The Manor House in Rockcliffe Park; Oto tawa 2, Canada. VOLUME 28, 1969 879 come impossible for even the indigenous Church to ar-rive at a generally satisfactory set of realistic and valid preferences. Priorities which have aided in the distribution of financial grants are applicable in part to the appoint-ment of people even. though this latter commodity, people, raises mnch more profound questions since it is so much more precious and scarce in Latin America. This dilemma especially concerns diocesan priests be-cause the international 'religious communities already have a functioning system for distribution of their mem-bers. This arrangement, made under the auspices of the Holy See, has served for generations and enables provincials to provide staff for missionary areas without an agonizing analysis in each case. Those communities without Latin American branches and bishops entering the field for the first time find the subject distressingly difficult. The. Most Reverend Marcos McGrath, Second Vice- .President of the Bishops' Council for Latin America (GELAM), has encouraged even the religious communi-ties to refuse to cling to traditional apostolates and to become open to new forms of ministry: Priorities of needs in the churches of Latin America can be determined most effectively when undertaken by a national episcopal conference. Deciding who comes first is a difficult exercise in the spirit of collegiality because each bishop would like to see his diocese at the top of the list. But it is a necessary exercise and is of great assistance to those from abroad who want to know what the bishops as a whole think about the needs of their country. A listing of priorities may indeed be prepared, by a special committee named by the local bishops. Such an arrangement has been requested in some instances by various organizations of assistance. CELAM's continental sec-retariat of the Latin American bishops may indicate some gen-eral priorities of needs through its specialized departments. ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Several complex plans have been proposed to resolve the problem of placement. The secretariat of the U.S. Bishops' Committee for Latin America once devised a coordinating committee of ten expert advisers to counsel bishops on the proper method of allocating personnel for Latin America. However since the ten could not agree among themselves on how to achieve best results the committee never met and the plan died. The secretariat received requests from most of the ecclesiastical jurisdictions in Latin America (more than 600) and circulated these to bishops and superiors of religious houses. However, no attempt to provide criteria for selecting one petition over another ever appeared. Standard policy urged superiors to.visit potential recipi- ¯ ent areas personally, a rather unrealistic suggestion for harried superiors already overstocked with requests for their manpower. Naturally, bishops prefer to retain jurisdiction over their priests. For this reason the concept of a military ordinariate type structure to recruit, train, and appoint personnel in Latin America failed to receive widespread acceptance, since experience .with military chaplains alerted bishops to the fear of losing control of their sub-jects for the major portion of their ministerial lives. Several prominent churchmen, support attempts to permit diocesan priests to serve in a religious community on the missions through a temporary connection with a religious order. Only diocesan priests who have lived for any length of time in the house of a religious society can foresee the difficulties of this plan. In spite of abundant good will on the part of all involved there is no escaping the feeling on the part of the secular priest that he is a "junior" or "non-incorporated" subject, without status and without the possibility of participation in decision making sessions. Likewise, this association causes the priest to lose identity both at home and abroad as a diocesan priest serving temporarily on the missions. The entry of diocesan priests with previous parish ex-perience into missionary areas revealed the value of these men over those who went directly to the missions upon ordination without any experience in a normal parish situation to use as a barometer for their missionary en-deavors. A diocese-to-diocese setup is not workable because one diocese in the States cannot properly provide for train-ing, support, leave time, illness, vacations, and so forth of overseas staff. Yet a method must be found which preserves the interest of the home diocese which usually provides the financial wherewithal enabling the Latin American mission to function. Other proposals include appointing men for a time to a national conference of bishaps in a given country, in-cardinating priests temporarily into a Latin American diocese, or assigning them to the U.S. Bishops' Com-mittee for Latin America, which, in conjunction with the U.S. and Latin American bishops involved, could arrange for training and distribution of priests. Two countries have established national offices to deal with this issue, and bishops assigning men to either Chile or Brazil need only refer to the national offices for ad-vice. Several methods of providing diocesan priests to Latin America have sprung up among the 76 dioceses involved in this effort. 24 dioceses merely permitted priests to go to Latin America. 17 assumed responsibility to support the volunteer priests during their term of Latin Ameri- 4- 4- 4- Latin America can service but they make no provisions for the assign-ment of these priests. 34 accept the task of supporting a parish or several parishes in Latin America. In Boston, Richard Cardinal Cushing founded in 1958 a society to bring these diocesan priests together. Currently this St. James (the Cardinal's middle name) Society counts slightly more than 100 members from 30 dioceses in the U.S. and several European countries. This corps pro-vides pastoral services to a half million people spread across Peru, Ecuador, and Bolivia. It represents the best vehicle currently available for sending diocesan priests to Latin America. A similar organization for pooling nuns going to Latin America received attention at an inter-American meeting of Bishops at Georgetown University in 1959 but has failed to be implemented. In attempting to establish priorities, the national conferences of Bishops in Latin America have proved to be a boon although usually the primatial archbishop in a country tends to see his own needs first and with good reason for he usually presides over the largest metropoli-tan portion of that country. But rural bishops complain about the criteria when they witness most foreign ar-rivals remaining in the capital city. Both CELAM and the Pontifical Commission for Latin America have sought to provide a solution in this sensitive area but without success, as most attempts at coordination cause disputes over the choice of one diocese over another as beneficiary of American clerics. Originally the Pontifical Commission offered the facili-ties of the nunciatures throughout Latin America as clearing houses, but a.fear of Roman control of the en-tire movement impelled both donor and petitioner dioceses to bypass quietly any Commission services. As a former nuncio in Panama, the late Archbishop Paul Bernier commented on this question during his tenure on the Canadian Bishops' Commission for Latin America: lames A. Clark REVIEW FOR'RELIGIOUS I think there is a strong feeling against forming a society of any kind. Most of the bishops, if I understand well, insist on having and keeping an effort of the secular clergy as such with no affiliation, neither to the diocese ad quam nor to any particular religious or semi-religious society but to keep all of them [the priests] incardinated in the diocese a qua. If they don't want to stay there for more than five years, or if for any other reason they cannot remain, they come back to their own diocese just as if they were never out of it. I think that in Canada at least the impression of the bishops would be rather contrary to affiliating or incorporating our diocesan ~nd secular priests to any particular society. Most bishops would be willing, however, to send according to their abilities one or two, five or ten priests, to some form of, not a society, but a responsible organization which in the last analysis would be in the hands of the Episcopal Committee for that. Whoever accepts responsibility for such appointments will have need of some priorities or guidelines since the priestly requirements of Latin America could not be fulfilled if every priest in. the United States went to Latin America. Some principles to follow in this area would include the following points. The i~rst choice to be made is a selection of a category of work for a religious volunteey, that is, shall I send my priest (or brother or sister) to work as a catechist, teacher, parish worker, or what? The departments of CELAM indicate the critical apostolates which normally will have first call on foreign services: education, medi-cine, social service, relief, charity, seminary/vocational work, catechetics, student/university apostolates, and service to laborers. Next the superior must choose a geographical classifi-cation, that is, shall I send him (her) to serve on the con-tinental level with CELAM, or on the regional or na-tional level with the conferences of bishops, or to the diocesan and local level. Foreigners often function best in posts removed from the intimate personal relation-ship of priest-to-parishioner which reqmres sensitive cul-tural perception. Usually their North American organi-zational talents achieve widest impact on a broader scale at the continental, regional, or diocesan levels. Also a decision must be made as to whether to send personnel to the rural or urban locations. Many Mary-knollers in Latin America have regretted the decision made many years ago to spread Society members across the mountain ranges. The impact of an individual is broader in the cities. On the other hand Cardinal Cush-ing says that the revolution in Latin America will be born in the mountains and the Church ought to be there. At one time it was thought preferable to assign North Americans to dioceses with North American bishops at the helm. This principle has been subsequently disre-garded since it leads to a danger of creating a church within a church, one foreign and one native. The monster parishes which have arisen in Latin America as a resuh of abundant American material and personnel aid have become a source of distress for Latin Americans and embarrassment for North Americans. Parish A flooded with American assistance can only re-flect poorly on parish B which is struggling along with local resources only. OccasionaIIy a choice arises between placing people in projects underwritten by private industry or govern-÷ ÷ ÷ Latin America VOLUM~ 28~ 1969 883 4- 4- REVIEW FOR,RELIGIOUS 884 ments, for example, a company hospital or a state nor-mal school. These opportunities sometimes permit the assure, ption of responsibilities which would otherwise be financially prohibitive; on the other hand, alliance with a government or industrial concern can be severely det-rimental to the Church image and impact. .One essential requirement demands that the project given help be integrated into the local church structure. For this reason each local request must be approved by the national conference of bishops to insure that it co-ordinates with the national pastoral plan. From the viewpoint of the candidate to be sent to Latin America, if he or she speaks one of the languages of Latin America or has studied or served in a particular country naturally it is logical to assign the person to that place. All attempts to satisfy reasonable personal preferences will reduce the inevitable cultural shock suffered by v, olunteers. A first principle of sending people into Latin America is that they be sent as members of a team effort and never individually. The ability of the subject offering his services will sometimes be the final determinant of assignment; a seminary professor will not serve best in a slum parish nor will a Trappist normally function well in a mass communications program. Due to the profound social division in Latin America there is a need to predetermine whether personnel are to be placed in projects serving the wealthy or the im-poverished. In the latter case a realistic plan for external financing will normally be required. Projects which provide some hope of eventual self-sufficiency in regard to their staffing needs should be selected rather than those which will require permanent foreign workers. Realistic approaches to provide new solutions to basic religious problems of Latin America deserve special con-sideration. For examples, the novel approach to slum parish work of Father Andres Godin, a Canadian Oblate, in Lima, Peru; or that of American Oblate Edmund Leising who has developed a remarkable program in Brazil for promoting parish self-support through Ameri-can fund raising procedures; or the renowned apostolate of Father Leo Mahon in San Miguelito parish in Pan-ama who has discovered an entirely new process for parish effectiveness. These offer novel and successful approaches to stubborn problems. Similar examples of projects managed by Latin American priests themselves could be cited. Most superiors have the background to recognize that adequate and detailed financial arrangements must be agreed upon in advance by both sides to prevent animos-ity from developing on obscure financial responsibilities. The overall plan an agency presents ought to be ex-amined carefully to learn if it is realistically conceived. Experience in Latin America reveals that ill.constructed, idealistic proposals soon collapse. Those of us familiar with the problem of positioning personnel in Latin America are aware of the difficulties superiors face in this field. Hopefully some of the above remarks will assist the ongoing dialogue in this area and be of some assistance to those who seek to serve the Church by releasing people for work on the only Catholic continent of the globe. + + ÷ Latin America VOLUME 28, 1969 885 JOSEPH F. GALLEN, S.J. Comments on tl e Instruction on Formation Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., writes from St. Joseph's Church; $21 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Penn-sylvania 19106. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Prepostulancy Nothing is said in the Instruction on a prepostulancy period. Number 4 states that it would be worthwhile to consider whether the practice of going directly to the novitiate from such places as aspirancies, apostolic schools, or minor seminaries should be continued or whether an interval of probation should be had to develop the human and emotional maturity of the candidate. In the case of those obliged to a postulancy by canon 539, § 1, this development can be taken care of during the postulancy, which can last up to two years and also be made while residing outside any house of the in-stitute (n. 12). There is nothing in the Instruction for or against such places as aspirancies but, as is clear from what was said above, number 4 presumes that they will continue to exist. Postulancy (nn. 4; 10-2; 33) Importance. "Hence it follows that all institutes, even those that do not prescribe the postulancy, must at-tach great importance to this preparation for the novice-ship" (n. 4). Purpose. This is to judge the suitability and aptitude of the candidate; to give a preparation that will enable the noviceship to be made more fruitfully; to provide a gradual transition from secular to religious life; and to verify and complete, if necessary, the religious knowledge of the candidate (nn. 11-2). "Tentative" in number 11 of the Vatican English translation is not in the Latin text and "to formulate a. judgment" is to form a judgment. Power of general chapter. In institutes in which the postulancy is of obligation by common law (in insti-tutes of perpetual vows: all women but in those of men only lay brothers) or by the constitutions, the gen-eral chapter may keep in mind, for a better adaptation of the postulancy~ the following norms (n. 12): Duration. In institutes in which the postulancy is not obligatory by common or constitutional law, the general chapter may determine its nature and duration, which can vary for different candidates but should not be too brief nor ordinarily longer than two years. In institutes in which the postulancy is obligatory from common law, it must last at least six full months (c. 589, § I), and this minimum time is more probably retained in the Instruction; but the general chapters of these institutes may also follow the two-year limit, the principle that the time may vary for different candi-dates, and probably that the minimum time may be less than six months (n. 12). 1 do not think the right of canon 539, § 2, to prolong the postulancy for six months extends to a postulancy of two years. A postu-lancy longer than two years would not be very rea-sonable, especially since it can be varied within that time for the individual. Place. Preferably not in the novitiate house, and it can be profitable for it to be made wholly or in part outside a house of the institute (n. 12). The postulancy may therefore be so organized that the postulants con-tinue to reside in their homes or in such another place as a college. See also numbers 4 and 11. The latter speaks of a "gradual transition from lay life to that proper to the noviceship." Director. The postulants, wherever the postulancy is made, are to be under the direction of qualified re-ligious, between whom and the master of novices there is to be sedulous cooperation (n. 12). Dross. The determination of the dress of the postu-lants appertains to the general chapter (n. 33). How-ever, canon 540, § 2, had required simply that the dress of the postulants be modest and different from that of the novices. It could therefore have been secular but modest; special and uniform, but this was not neces-sary; religious, but different from that of the novices. Noviceship (nn. 4-5; 13-33) Maturity requisite Ior beginning noviceship (n. 4). The noviceship should begin when the candidate is aware of God's call and has reached that degree of human and spiritual maturity which will allow him to decide to respond to this call with sufficient and proper knowledge and responsibility: "Most of the difficulties encountered today in the formation of novices are usually due to the fact that when they were admitted they did not have the required maturity., it must ÷ ÷ ÷ Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 887 ÷ ÷ ÷ $. F. Gallen, S.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 888 be affirmed that the age required for admission to the noviceship should be higher than heretofore" (n. 4). Place. The noviceship for validity must be made in a house legitimately designated for this purpose (n. 15) by the superior general with the consent of his council and according to the constitutions (n. 16). The superior general with the consent of his council and after consultation with the interested provincial may in a case of necessity permit also many novitiates in the same province (n. 17). When the small number of novices is not sufficient to promote community life, the superior general should, if possible, establish the novitiate in a community of the institute capable of aiding the formation of such a small group of novices (n. 18). To better meet some demands of their formation, the superior general may authorize that the group of novices be transferred during certain periods to another house of the institute designated by himself (n. 16). In particular and exceptional cases, the superior gen-eral with the consent of his council may permit that a candidate validly make his noviceship in a house of the institute other than the novitiate house, under the direction of a qualified religious acting as a master of novices (n. 19). Duration. For validity the noviceship must last for twelve months (n. 21). A continuous or interrupted absence from the noviti-ate group and house that exceeds three months ren-ders the noviceship invalid (ft. 22). In lesser absences the higher superior, after consulting the novice master and considering the reason for the absence, may in individual cases command an extension of the noviceship and determine its length, and this matter may also be determined by the constitutions (n. 22). Formative activity periods outside the novitiate house must be added to the required twelve months, nor may they be begun before a novice has spent three months in the novitiate (if the contrary is done, the noviceship be-gins only on the completion of the formative activity period) and must be so arranged that the novice spends a minimum of six continuous months in the novitiate, re-turns there at least a month before the first vows or other temporary commitment, and the time of the whole novice-ship extended in this manner may not exceed two years (n. 24). The noviceship amplified by such formative activity periods may not exceed two years, but this does not abrogate the right given to higher superiors in canon 571, § 2, to prolong the noviceship up to six months in a doubt about the suitability of a candidate. Such a prolongation is permitted in a noviceship of two years without formative activity periods. A higher superior for a just cause may permit first profession or commitment to be anticipated but not beyond fifteen days (n. 26). Formative activity periods. The general chapter by at least a two-thirds vote may experimentally enact, in keeping with the nature of the institute, one or more periods of formative activity outside the novitiate house, the number to be determined in practice accord-ing to the judgment of the master of novices with the consent of the higher superior, for the formation of the novices or, in some cases, for a better judgment of their aptitude for the life of the institute. Such periods may be used for one, several, or the entire group of novices. If possible a novice should not be assigned alone to these periods. In these periods the novices are under the direction of the master of novices (nn. 23, 25). "It must be emphasized that this formative activ-ity, which complements novitiate teaching, is not in-tended to provide the novices with the technical or professional training required for certain apostolic ac-tivities, training which will be afforded to them later on, but rather to help them, in the very midst of these activities, to better discover the exigencies of their vocation as religious and how to remain.faithful to them" (n. 5; see also n. 25). Separation of novices. There must be some separation between the novices and the professed religious, with whom, however, and with other communities, the novices may have contact according to the judgment of the master of novices. It appertains to the general chapter to decide, according to the nature of the institute and particular circumstances, what contacts may be had between the novices and the professed of the institute (n. 28). The use of the term "professed re-ligious" in the second sentence makes it sufficiently clear that there is no prohibition of contact between the novices and the postulants, as might be feared from the word "members" in the other two sentences of number 28. Studies during the noviceship. The general chapter may permit or command certain studies during the nov-iceship for the better formation of the novices, but doctri-nal studies should be directed to the knowledge and love of God and to the development of a more profound life of faith. From the twelve months of noviceship of number 21 all studies, even theological and philosophi-cal, made for obtaining diplomas or for acquiring a formation directed to preparation for fulfilling future Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 889 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 890 duties are forbidden (n. 29). Provided doctrinal studies are directed to the spiritual life, as prescribed in the first sentence, it is probably not forbidden to receive credits for such studies when these can be had but the studies are not to be directed to the attaining of credits. There is no doubt that the prescription on doctrinal studies in this first sentence also applies only to the twelve months of noviceship of number 21, as is also true of the canonical legislation in canon 565, § 3, on this point, "even though the Latin text says "during the time of the noviceship," not "during the regular novitiate year," as in the English translation. The latter also has "all formal study programs" in the second paragraph whereas the Latin reads "all studies." Dress o] the novices. It appertains to the general chapter to determine the dress of the novices (n. 33). Number 33 speaks of the "habit of the novices and of other candidates for the religious life." It certainly had not been the practice nor is there any tendency to give a religious habit to postulants, and the meaning here of "habit" is "dress." No limitation is placed on the power of the general chapter to determine the dress of the novices and postulants. Canon 557 commands the wear-ing of the habit during the whole time of the noviceship, but it has also been maintained that the noviceship is an uncertain time and that the habit, to retain all its significance, should not be given to the novices. Noviceship lot another class. Unless the constitutions determine otherwise, a noviceship made for one class is valid for another (n. 27). The constitutions may de-termine the conditions regulating a transfer from one class to another (n. 27), Novice master. The novices are under the direction of the novice master who may seek the aid of other skilled helpers (n. 30). This is to be kept in mind with regard to a formation team. See also numbers 5, 12, 15, 23, 31, 32. Temporary Bond (nn. 2, 6-9; 34-8) A different temporary bond may be established and ]or all. Number 34 gives a faculty, not a precept, but in general language: "The General Chapter, by a two-thirds majority, may decide to replace temporary vows with some other kind of commitment as, for example, a promise made to the institute." The same general lan-guage is found in numbers 2, 6, 10, 24,' 37-8. The pos-sibility of the extension to all in the probation after the noviceship is not certainly excluded by other num-bers of the Instruction. A dil~erent bond should be introduced only a]ter most careful thought. The reasons are (1) number 34 demands a two-thirds vote of the general chapter to in-troduce a different bond and (2) number 7 explidtly re-quires such careful thought: "No institute should de-cide to use the faculty granted by this Instruction to replace temporary vows by some other form of commit-ment without having clearly perceived and weighed the reasons for and the nature of this change." A different bond in fairness, prudence, and proper regard [or sound spirituality should be introduced only [or those in whom the special immaturity exists. The reasons are (1) by vows a special consecration is had according to number 2: "Thus it is that religious pro-fession is an act of religion ~nd a special consecration whereby a person dedicates himself to God." (2) Be-cause according to number 7 temporary vows are com-pletely in harmony with the greater response to God so important at the beginning of the religious life and also enable the candidate to make the consecration proper to the religious state: "For him who has heeded the call of Jesus to leave everything to follow Him there can be no question of how important it is to respond generously and wholeheartedly to this call £rom the very outset of his religious life; the making of temporary vows is completely in harmony with this requirement. For, while still retaining its probationary character by the fact that it is temporary, the profession of first vows makes the young religious share in the consecration proper to the religious state." (3) Because immaturity is the sole reason given (n. 7) for substituting another temporary commitment: "In fact, more fre-quently now than in the past, a certain number [quidam] of young candidates come to the end of their novitiate without having acquired the religious ma-turity sufficient to bind themselves immediately by re-ligious vows, although no prudent doubt can be raised regarding their generosity or their authentic vocation to the religious state. This hesitancy in pronbuncing vows is frequently accompanied by a great awareness of the exigencies and the importance of the perpetual religious profession to which they aspire and wish to prepare themselves." (4) Possibly also because the desire for the different commitment was true only of some institutes (n. 7): "Thus it has seemed desirable in a certain num-ber o[ institutes that at the end of their noviceship the novices should be able to bind themselves by a temporary commitment different from vows, yet answering their twofold desire to give themselves to God and the institute and to pledge themselves to a fuller preparation for perpetual profession." Since the Instruction describes temporary vows as a consecration that is special, proper to the religious state, and in harmony with the greater ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 28. 1969 89! + ÷ .~. Fo Gallen, $J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 89~> response to God, it at least seems unfair, imprudent, and without regard for sound spirituality to deprive a novice of temporary vows when he has all the quali-ties requisite for making them, that is, when he is not affected by the special immaturity described in number 7. ¯ Some observations on this immaturity. Is this im-maturity proper to the young or is it the emotionalism that is today found in many older religious, and which the young often manifest only after continuous contact with such older religious? Isn't there a movement at this moment in the United States to give the vote to those who are eighteen years of age because the young are now more politically mature? In more than thirty states it has been the law that a girl of eighteen may marry without the consent of her parents. Is there any widespread tendency at present to change this very general law because of the immaturity of the ~young? Don't some hold that the greater physical development of modern youth argues to a greater psychological de-velopment? Does one frequently and without indoctri-nation encounter a novice who is judged to have a certain religious vocation (see also c. 571, § 2) but is too immature to take temporary vows? What factual and ob-jective investigations were made in the United States to prove the existence of such immaturity? Isn't it true that such immaturity would occur with regard to the temporary vow of chastity, not of poverty or obedience? Prescinding now from the obligation of the different commitment, don't the commandments of God still bind such a candidate and under serious sin in a violation of chastity? The simplest and most appropriate different com-mitment would be a promise to the institute to observe poverty, chastity, and obedience because (1) neither the form nor the object of the different commitment is determined in the Instruction (see n. 34) but (2) in numbers 7 and 35 the Instruction at least says it is fitting that the dit~erent commitment should in some way refer to the exercise of the three evangelical counsels, for example in number 7: "Whatever form such a temporary commitment may take, it is in keeping, with fidelity to a genuine religious vocation that it should in some way be based on the requirements of the three evangelical counsels." and (3) more directly and even categorically in number 13 the Instruction apparently says that the novice is to make profession of the evangeli-cal counsels at the end of the noviceship by temporary vows or other temporary commitment: ".that a novice.may implement the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, and obedience, the profession of which 'either by vows or by other sacred bonds that are like vows in their purpose' he will later make." This number of the Instruction is talking of a novice and therefore o[ the first consecration, which can be either vows or another temporary commitment. There is no alternative for the profession of perpetual vows. Other forms and objects of commitment are possible. The form and object of members in the strict sense of secular institutes is: "By making profession before God of celibacy and perfect chastity, which shall be confirmed by vow, oath, or consecration binding in conscience, according to the constitutions; by a vow or promise of obedience.by a vow or promise of poverty." (Provida Mater Ecclesia, February 2, 1947, Art. III). Some of the different forms of commitments in societies of common life without public vows are annual private vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience and the service of the poor; private perpetual vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience; promise of fidelity to the observance of the rule and constitutions; perpetual promise of observ-ance of common life and poverty; perpetual agreement to obey the rule of the institute; perpetual oath of perseverance and obedience; and perpetual oath and promise of perseverance and obedience,x The societies of common life more £requently encountered are the Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul, Eudists, Josephites, Maryknoll Missionaries, Oratorians, Pallot-tine Fathers, Paulists, Precigus Blood Fathers, Sulpicians, Vincentians, and White Fathers. Is one who makes a di1~erent temporary commitment in a state of perfection, in the religious state, a re-ligious, and a member of his institute? This is at least a very basic question and with wide implications. The negative arguments are that the Instruction nowhere says that one who makes a different temporary commit-ment is a religious and that canon 488, 7°, demands public vows to constitute a religious. On the other hand (1) vows are required only by canon law, not by divine law or the nature of the matter,2 to constitute a re-ligious, and the Instruction derogates from this canon law, as will be seen from the following arguments: (2) number 36 states absolutely that the subject is united with his institute and absolutely that he is obliged to observe its law; (3) the Instruction throughout does not differentiate between such a commitment and temporary vows (see nn. 2, 6, 10, 24, 34, 37-8); (4) num-ber 10 states explicitly that the temporary commitment is not the noviceship. If an entirely new state were being 1 See also Beste, lntroductio in Codicem, 497; Guti~rrez, Gora-mentarium pro religiosis, 38 (1959), 312-3. =See Goyeneche, De religiosis, 10-11; Guti~rrez, op.cit., 29 (1050), 72-3. ÷ ÷ ÷ VOU, JME 25, 89~ REV;EW FOR RELIGIOUS introduced distinct from that of the noviceship and temporary vows, this should have been dearly stated in the Instruction. (5) The probationary periods can last for thirteen years. This seems in itself to be un-reasonable if the subject does not become a member of the institute until the end of such time. The professed of temporary vows are members by first profession. The present canon law does not permit a duration of tempo-rary vows longer than six years, and canon 642, § 2, likens a professed of six years of temporary vows to one of perpetual vows. (6) During this prolonged time the institute would not be held in the case of such a subject to the norms of dismissal for professed but could dismiss him almost in the manner of a novice, whereas the pro-fessed of temporary vows would have also a right of sus-pensive recourse against his dismissal. Nor would canon 643, § 2, on the charitable subsidy apply, nor canon 646 on an automatic dismissal. (7) There would be an evident distinction in the rights and obligations of these subjects and the professed of temporary vows even though both would be in the same factual state of proba-tion. It is true, as number 7 states, tl~at "the profesz sion of first vows., makes the candidate share in the consecration proper to the religious state." Such a consecration, however, is required only by canon or human law, which can therefore enact that other suitable forms of commitment would also constitute a candidate in the religious state and make him a re-ligious, as also because such a candidate is always des-tined for this proper consecration in perpetual profes-sion. Religious women are nuns and their institutes are religious orders even though no one in fact has solemn vows provided at least some are destined for solemn vows from the particular law of the institute. Public vows would also remain proper to the religious state and to religious institutes since they are not had either in societies of common life nor in secular institutes. I therefore believe that the subject in a different temporary commitment is in a state of perfection, in the religious state, is a religious, and a member of his institute, but the question should be authoritatively serried by the Holy See. In the contrary opinion, those in a different temporary commitment are in a state that is neither noviceship nor profession, one also for which we have no parallel, and consequently a state of deep obscurity at least juridically. Determination o~ details b) the general chapter (n. 36). In virtue of canon 543 only a higher superior is competent to admit to the noviceship and to any re-ligious profession. The same canon demands a vote of the council or chapter for admission to the novice- ship, first temporary, and perpetual professions. The gen-eral chapter should require the deliberative vote for admission to the first temporary commitment and pre-scribe for renewals and prolongation of. such a com-mitment the same vote as is enacted in the constitutions for these acts with regard to temporary profession. The same policy should be observed concerning the superior competent for permitting an anticipated renewal of the temporary commitment, for exclusion from renewal or from the profession of perpetual vows (c. 637), and for the vote of the council in this case. The superior general with at least the advice of his council should be given the faculty of consenting to the dissolution of the com-mitment by the subject, to so consent to the request of the subject at any time during a commitment, who can then be immediately admitted to temporary vows, and with the consent of his council from the institute. Reception of ment is not necessary because it (c. 1308, § 1), and the consent of to dismiss a subject the different commit-is not a public vow the institute was suf-ficiently given and expressed in the admission to the commitment or its renewal. The general chapter could prescribe reception since such a repeated consent of the institute is not contrary to common law. The formula of the vows will have to be changed for a different commitment, for example, a promise will be to the institute, not to God as is a vow. Even if the new com-mitment does not have obedience as its express object and is therefore not productive of another obligation of obedience, superiors, as the head of the institute or of its parts, possess at least the same authority that they have over a novice and, if the Holy See decides that a different commitment is on the same juridical level as temporary vows, they possess the same authority as over a professed but without the added title to exact obedi-ence from the vow (c. 501, § 1; 502). Ganons whose application is obscure. The applica-tion of the following canons to those in a different temporary commitment should also be decided by the Holy See: responsibility for debts, 536, §§ 2-3; canonical examination, 552; dowry, 547-51; making of cession and disposition regarding personal patrimony and a civilly valid will, 569; retreat before first profession, 571, § 3; profession of a novice in danger of death. Requisites for a valid profession, exclusive of recep-tion, the necessity of three years of temporary vows, and understanding the derogations regarding a valid novice-ship in the Instruction, 572; age for profession, 573; deliberative vote for first profession, 575, § 2; written declaration of profession, 576, § 2; no intervals between renewals or perpetual profession, 577, § 1; 575, § 1; ÷ ÷ Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 895 ~. F. Gallen, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 896 enjoyment of the same indulgences, privileges, spiritual favors, and suffrages, obligation of observing rules and constitutions, active and passive voice and computation of time for obtaining either, 578; illiceity and invalidity of acts contrary to the vows, 579. Acquisition of property by a professed of simple vows, change of cession and disposition, 580; renuncia-tion of personal patrimony, 581; 583, 1°; change of will, 583; 2°. Common obligations of clerics in canons 124-42, 592; obligation of common life, 594; obligation of wear-ing habit, 596; cloister, 597 ft.; religious duties, 595; right of exempt correspondence, 611; enjoyment of privileges of first order by nuns, 613, § 2; enjoyment of clerical privileges of canons 119-23, 614. Transfer to another religious institute or monastery, 632-5; 544, § 5; right of professed of temporary vows to leave at the end of a temporary profession, 637; ex-claustration, 638-9; effects of secularization, 640-3; compensation may not be sought for services given to the institute, 643, § 1; charitable subsidy, 643, § 2; laws on fugitives, 644, § 3; 645; 2386; automatic dismissal, 646; dismissal of a professed of temporary vows, 647-8; provisional return to secular life, 653. Six professed constitute a formal house, 488, 5°; precedence from first profession breaking a tie in elec-tions, 101, § 1, 1°; first profession as date of computing eligibility for office, 504; 559, §§ 1-2; prohibition of being members of third orders secular, 704; prohibi-tion of being a sponsor in baptism and confirmation, 766, 4°; 796, 3°; special jurisdiction necegsary for the confessions of religious women, 876; funerals of religious, 1221; 1124, 2°; permission for writings, 1386, § 1; punish-able for violations of common life, 2389. Obligation o[ observing the evangelical counsels. If the Holy See decides that a different temporary com-mitment is on the same juridical level as the profession of temporary vows, the evangelical counsels must be observed at least with the same obligation as the con-stitutions, no matter what be the object of the different temporary commitment because (1) not only does num-ber 36 impose after the new commitment "the obliga-tion of observing the Rule, constitutions and other regulations of the institute" and therefore a fortiori also the obligation of observing the evangelical coun-sels as more essential and important for a state of complete Christian perfection but also and more pro-foundly because (2) the observance of the evangelical counsels is necessary from the nature of a state of per-fection, as can be seen from the following direct and clear statements of only three Popes and Vatican II: "The religious orders, as everyone knows, have their origin and raison d'etre in those sublime evangelical counsels, of which our divine Redeemer spoke, for the course of all time, to those who desire to attain Christian perfection" (Leo XIII, December 23, 1900). "When the only-begotten Son of God came into the world to re-deem the human race, he gave the precepts of spiritual life by which all men were to be directed to their appointed end; in addition, he taught that all those who wished to follow more closely in His footsteps should embrace and follow the evangelical counsels" (Pius XI, March 19, 1924). "It is true that by the apostolic constitution Provida Mater Ecclesia we declared that the form of life, which is followed by secular institutes, is also to be accepted as a state of perfection publicly recognized, because the members are bound in some way to the observance of the evangelical counsels" (Pius XII, July 13, 1952).3 Vatican II affirmed: "Thus, although the religious state constituted by the profession of the evangelical counsels does not belong to the hierarchical structure of the Church, nevertheless it belongs in-separably to her life and holiness." 4 Moral obligation of a new temporary commitment. It might seem that a general chapter could also completely determine this (see n. 36), but number 34 gives a promise to the institute as an example of such a com-mitment. We are to presume words in such a document are being used in their proper sense, and in such a sense a promise produces a moral obligation. In a merely private promise to God or man, the one making the promise can oblige himself only to a light obliga-tion in light matter but in serious matter he can assume either a light or a grave obligation. May a general chapter, therefore, define the moral obligation of the new temporary commitment, for example, a promise to the institute, as only light? It could do so if it is decided by the Holy See that such a commitment is not on the same juridical level as temporary vows. Could it do so if the level is the same? Such a definition is not excluded by the nature of a commitment or promise purely in itself nor by the explicit wording of the Instruction. The light obligation can also be urged from the reason for permitting a different commitment, that is, the immaturity of a candidate. It would not 8Courtois, The States of Perfection, Dublin: 1961, M. H. Gill and Son, nn. 33, 130, 403, 474; see also Schaefer, De religiosis, n. 125; Beste, op.cit., 328; Padri Claretdani, II diritto dei religiosi, n. 3; Fanfani, II diritto delle religiose, n. 2; Bastien, Directoire canonique, nn. 9, 14; Creusen, Religious Men and Women in Church Law, nn. 4-5; Guti~rrez, ibid., 63-4, 67. ' Abbott-Gallagher, The Document~ of Vatican II, 75. 4" 4" 4" Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 89~ ]. F. Gallen, $.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS seem very practical to enact that such a candidate does not have to take the added serious obligation of a re-ligious vow if he must assume the added serious obli-gation of another form of commitment. On the opposite side it can be well maintained from the nature of the matter that it would be incongruous for the funda-mental obligations of a permanent state of life to be only light. Above all there is a reply given by the Sacred Congregation of Religious, May 19, 1949, in an entirely parallel case and in general language to the effect that the bonds assumed by the members of secular insti-tutes cannot be light in their general nature.~ The pur-pose and nature of secular institutes are given as the reason for this doctrine. A secular institute is an apos-tolic state of complete Christian perfection, and the reasoning of the Sacred Congregation appears to me to apply, at least equally, if not afortiori, to religious in-stitutes. In effect this would mean, in the promise we have advocated to the institute to observe poverty, chastity, and obedience, the same light or serious obliga-tion that is had in the religious vows. The document reads: 1. The obligations which are contracted by members in the strict sense (Art. III, §§ £ and 3) for the full pursuit of the juridical state of perfection in secular institutes (Art. III, § 2), if they are to correspond to the purpose and nature of the institute, cannot be light in their general nature and under every respect (ex genere suo atque ex omni parte). 2. On the other hand, the bonds on which this state of perfection rests, are considered so to oblige in conscience that the obligations thus produced must be called grave in their general nature (ex genere suo). 3. In individual cases, an obligation must be considered grave only when its matter must be considered as certainly grave according to the constitutions and the common teaching regarding equal or similar bonds. Moreov,er, according to the well-known rule of law (Reg. 30 in VI°), 'In obscure matters, one is obliged to Iollow only the least obligation," it cannot be affirmed in a doubtful case that an obligation is grave or more grave, for example, on the ground that an obligation arises from or is reinforced by the formal virtue of religion. 4. Just what is the nature of the bonds assumed in individual institutes and what is the precise mode of obligation---e.g., in addition to justice and fidelity, is there also and, if so, to what degree, an obligation from the virtue of religion--must be learned from the constitutions, which should give an accurate presentation of the matter, and from the formula of consecra-tion or incorporation in which the bonds are expressed. 5. Even when it is certain that there is a formal obligation arising from the virtue of religion, since there is question of vows or bonds which, although they are not fully private, nevertheless, in law, cannot be called public in the strict and specific sense and do not effect a public consecration of the' "Bouscaren-O'Connor, Canon Law Digest /or Religious, 167-8; see also Commentarium pro religiosis, 28 (1949): Larraona, 199-200; Fuertes, 292-8. person, the malice of sacrilege must not be attributed to their violation. Duration oI probation after the noviceship. The gen-eral chapter is to determine this but it is to be no less than three nor longer than nine years (n. 37). I find it difficult to see why a period longer than five years should be generally prescribed (n. 6). The total possible probationary period, that is, 2 years of postulancy, 2 of noviceship, and 9 of temporary commitment, can thus be 13 years. This would ordinarily mean perpetual profes-sion at the youngest only at the age of 30 or 31 years. Would we advise marriage only at 30 or 317 The gen-eral chapter may permit a prolongation in individual cases of a prescribed time, e.g., five years, up to the full nine years or may limit the power of prolonging, e.g., to only one year (n. 37). Precise length of dil~erent commitment. This may be made in the one act for the full length of the interval before perpetual profession, for example, five years; or for a briefer period, for example, three years, to be re-newed for two years on its expiration or to be followed by temporary vows (n. 34). The provision of canon 577, § 2, of permitting a renewal of temporary vows to be an-ticipated but not by more than a month may be also applied to the renewal of a different form of temporary commitment. Such an anticipation is permissible £rom the nature of a commitment and is not excluded by the Instruction. Must also a di~erent temporary commitment be ac-companied by the intention of renewing and of admit-ting to a renewal on its expiration? If the decision of the Holy See is that the juridical level of temporary vows and other temporary commitments is the same, the answer is in the affirmative. The explanation of the necessity of this intention in temporary vows has been the following. The religious life has ever and now de-mands stability or permanence. From its concept it is a state of life in the same way as the clerical or married state. A state of life is something that contains the note of stability or permanence. The exact permanence re-quired is defined by the Church as follows: solemn vows or simple perpetual vows are sufficient but not neces-sary; the minimum requisite is simple temporary vows. Therefore, an institute in which all the members make only annual professions of poverty, chastity, and obedi-ence fulfills this requisite. The Church further requires that temporary vows be renewed on their expiration (c. 488, 1°). This implies an intention on the part of both the religious making temporary profession and the superior admitting to this profession that, iI no obstacle ÷ ÷ ÷ Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 899 ]. F. Gallery, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 900 occurs in the meantime, the vows will be renewed on their expiration. It is evident that the same necessity of this intention and its explanation apply to a different temporary commitment since the necessity of the inten-tion is required not from vows as such but from the fact that the religious state is 'a state of life and demands stability.6 Lastly, such an intention is required in secular institutes, in which the bond can be vow, oath, consecra-tion, or promise: "The bond by which the secular insti-tute and its members in the strict sense are to be united must be: 1o Stable, according to the constitutions, either perpetual or temporary but to be renewed at its expira-tion (c. 488, 1°) . ,, 7 ConIusion on temporary vows. Tkis is the appropriate place to mention the extensive confusion that has existed on temporary vows in this whole matter of a different commitment. Many talked as if a temporary vow were a most unusual and even a contradictory thing. Evidently they did not know that temporary vows were mentioned in canon law (c. 131.1) as also in practically any manual of moral theology and in canonical works that included the treatment of the vows. It was also frequently stated that the intention of renewing and of admitting to renewal on their expiration was a contra-diction of the temporary duration of such vows. This again was ignorance. The intention was not and could not have been absolute, which would have been clearly contrary to the probationary nature of the period of temporary vows. It was a conditional intention to renew the vows i[ no obstacle intervened in the meantime, S and this obstacle, if not always, would practically always have been the discovery by the institute or the subject that he or she had no vocation. There was almost an equal number of statements that a temporary profession was invalid if at the time a religious had the intention of not renewing or a superior of not admitting to a renewal on the expiration of a temporary profession. Canon 572 does not list such an intention among the requisites for a valid religious profession. Canon 488, 1°, does not append an invalidating clause to the necessity of this intention as required by canon 11. A requirement for liceity only will also sufficiently fulfill the required stability. An invalidating law according to canon 15 does not exist in a doubt of law, and there is certainly a doubt o See Larraona, op. cit., 2 (1921), 137, 209; 28 (1949), 205; Schaefer, op.ciL, n. 128; Jone, Commentarium in Codicem iuris canonici, I, 387; Padri Clarettiani, op.cit., nn. 3, 6; Vermeersch-Creusen, Epitome iuris canonici, I, n. 580; Goyeneche, op.cit., 9-10; De Carlo, Jus religiosorum, n. 2. ~ Provida Mater Ecclesia, Bouscaren-O'Connor, op.cit., 151. aSee Larraona, op.cit.o 2 (1921), 209 and note 81; 28 (1949)~ 205; Guti~rrez, ibid., 90. of law in the present caseP There was also a great deal of talk merely about promises, as if a vow were not a promise. Nor was there too much knowledge of sanctity of life and of the relation of the evangelical counsels and of vows to this sanctity. Sacred orders may not be conferred belore perpetual profession (n. 37; c. 964, 4°). For a just reason a higher superior may permit that a first profession be made outside the novitiate house (n. 20). The Instruction does not mention the commitment presumably because it is held that the prescription on place of canon 574, §1 applies only to vows. Readmission of one who legitimately left either after completing temporary vows or other commitment or a[ter being [reed from either. He may be readmitted by the superior general with the consent of his council, who is not obliged to prescribe another noviceship, nor an-other postulancy (c. 640, § 2), but is obliged to enjoin a previous period of probation and also a period of tem-porary vows or other commitment not less than a year nor less than the time that remained to be spent in this temporary probation before perpetual profession when the subject left. The superior general may prescribe a longer period of temporary vows or other commitment (n. 38). Immediate preparation for perpetual proIession and similar periods during tbmporary vows or other commit-ment. It is desirable that perpetual profession should be preceded by a sufficiently long immediate preparation something in the manner of a second noviceship. The duration and other aspects are to be determined by the general chapter (nn. 9, 35). It is also desirable that periods of withdrawing to prayer, meditation, and study be established during the time of temporary vows or other commitment (n. 25). Section IlL Application of the special norms. The par-ticular provisions axe called norms because they have been enacted for experimentation (VII). They are in effect from January 6, 1969 (VII). The norms and direc-tives of the Instruction appertain only to religious in-stitutes; other institutes of common life may but are not obliged to follow them (n. 3). Common law (canon law, laws enacted after the Code of Canon Law, laws of Vatican II, and postconciliar laws) remains in effect un-less derogated by this Instruction (I). The faculties granted by this Instruction may in no way be delegated g See Schaefer, op.cit., n. 128; Jone, op.cit., 387; Guti~rrez, ibid., note 65; Vermeersch, Periodica, 31 (1932), 122 ft.; Goyeneche, Corn. mentarium tyro religiosis, 16 (1935), 315-6; Vidal, De religiosis, n. 9, holds for invalidity. 4- 4- ÷ VOLUME 901 ~. F. Gallen, $.]. 902 to another (II), but they may be used by those who legiti-mately take the place of the superior general when there is no superior general or he is legitimately prevented from acting (IV). The same principle is true of the vicars of other higher superiors since they are actually exercising the office of the higher superior when accord-ing to the constitutions they take the place of a higher superior, such as a provincial, in the vacancy of the office, in his absence, or when he is otherwise impeded from fulfilling the duties of his office. There is nothing of such importance in the faculties granted in the Instruc-tion to higher superiors that would merit the exclusion of vicars from the exercise of such faculties. An abbot at the head of a monastic congregation is also to be understood under the name of superior general in this Instruction (III). In the case of nuns dedicated exclu-sively to the contemplative life, special norms shall be inserted into the constitutions and submitted for ap-proval, but the norms in numbers 22, 26-7 may be ap-plied to them (V). I[ the special general chapter has already been held, the superior general and his council acting collegially,x° after a careful study of all circumstances, are to decide whether a general chapter should be convoked to deliber-ate on the faculties granted to it or whether it would be preferable to await the next general chapter (VI). If they decide against the above convocation but also that the use of the faculties granted to the general chapter is urgent for the good of the institute, they, again acting collegially, have the power of putting all or some of the same faculties in use until the next gen-eral chapter provided they have previously consulted all other higher superiors and their councils and have ob-tained their two-thirds affirmative vote. These other higher superiors should have it at heart to consult previ-ously the professed of perpetual vows. In institutes with no provinces, the superior general must consult the l~rofessed of perpetual vows and obtain the affirmative vote of two-thirds OgI). The following appertain to the general chapter: with a two-thirds vote: to introduce periods of formative ac-tivity in the noviceship (n. 23) and a different tempo-rary commitment (n. 34); with the vote prescribed by the constitutions: to make determinations for the pos-tulancy (n. 12); to decide on the permissible contacts of the novices (n. 28); to permit or command studies during the noviceship (n. 29); to determine the dress of the novices and other candidates (n. 33); to determine the duration of the probation between the noviceship See REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 19 (1960), 131-2. and perpetual profession and other aspects of the same probation (nn. 35-6-7); and experimentally to enact other matters that imply a change in the constitutions, for example, in numbers 16, 22, and 27. The following appertain to the superior general: with the consent of his council: the institution of a novitiate (n. 16) and of many novitiates in the same province, having consulted the interested provincial (n. 17); the making of the noviceship in a house that is not a noviti-ate house (n. 19); the readmission of one who legiti-mately left either after completing temporary vows or other commitment or after being freed from either (n. 38); alone: to permit the group of novices to reside for a time in another house designated by him (n. 16); to per-mit a small group of novices to make their noviceship in a house more suitable for community life (n. 18); with the council acting collegially: to decide on the calling of a general chapter to implement the Instruction or to permit, without a general chapter, the use of the facul-ties granted in the Instruction, after consulting all other higher superiors and their councils and having obtained the affirmative vote of two-thirds of them or of the pro-fessed of perpetual vows when the institute does not have provinces (VI). The following appertain to higher superiors: alone: to permit first profession outside the novitiate house (n: 20); to permit that first profession be anticipated but not beyond fifteen days (n. 26); after consulting the master of novices: to decide on a supplying of absence of a novice of less than three months (n. 22); and it is rec-ommended that higher superiors below the superior general previously consult the professed of perpetual vows on the use of faculties of the Instruction without having a general chapter (VI). Spiritual principles of the Instruction. In the intro-duction to the Instruction, the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes stated that the reason Vatican II gave no small measure of attention to reli-gious was that the Church might have a greater abun-dance of spiritual strength and be better prepared to proclaim the message of salvation to the men of our age; quoted Lumen gentium, numbers 44-5, to the effect that the state of the evangelical counsels appertains to the sanctity of the Church and that the practice of these counsels is uniquely effective for the perfection of the love of God and of the neighbor; spoke of the duty of religious institutes to renew their spiritual, evangelical, and apostolic lives; recalled that no loss was to be per-mitted in the basic values of the religious life; and de-clared the necessity of defining again the principal as-pects of this life. Formation VO'LUME 28, 1969 9O3 I. F. Ga//en,~$.l. REVIEW FOR REI.~G~OU$ 90; In the first section, which treats of principles and criteria, the Sacred Congregation reaffirmed that pro-fession of the evangelical counsels is a total consecration of one's person to God; that both from the teaching of the Church and the nature of this consecration the vow of obedience appertains to the essence of religious pro-fession; that by this consecration the religious exercises the perfection of apostolic charity, even though the apostolate is not the primary purpose of religious pro-fession; and that it may not be said that the nature of religious profession is to be changed or its proper de-mands lessened. The Sacred Congregation stated that the noviceship retains its irreplaceable role in formation; that novices are to be taught the cohesive unity that should link contemplation and apostolic activity; and that this unity is one of the fundamental and primary values of apostolic institutes. The achievement of this unity requires a~proper un-derstanding of the realities of the supernatural life and of the paths leading to a deepening of union with God in the unity of the one supernatural love for God and for man, finding expression at times in the solitude of inti-mate communing with the Lord and at others in the generous giving of self to apostolic activity. Young reli-gious must be taught that this unity, so eagerly sought and toward which all life tends in order to find its full development, cannot be attained on the level of activity alone, or even be psychologically experienced, for it resides in that divine love which is the bond of perfec-tion and which surpasses all understanding. The attainment of this unity, which cannot be achieved without long exercise of self-denial or without persevering efforts toward purity of intention in action, demands in those institutes faithful compliance with the law inherent in the spiritual life itself, which con-sists in arranging a proper balance of periods set aside for solitude with God and others devoted to various activities and to the human contacts which these in-volve (n. 5). The Sacred Congregation maintained that suitable maturity was required that the religious state be a means of perfection and not a burden too heavy to carry, as also the desirability that the perpetual con-secration to God of perpetual vows be preceded by a sufficiently long immediate preparation spent in recol-lection and prayer that could be like a second novice-ship. The second section of the Instruction is on special or particular norms and contains the following spiritual ideas and principles. The novices are to develop that union with Christ which is to be the source of all their apostolic activity; conformably to the teaching of our Lord in the gospel, the formation of the noviceship con-sists especially in initiating the novices gradually into detachment from everything not connected with the kingdom of God; that they learn to practice humility, obedience, poverty, to be instant in prayer, to maintain union with God, along with a soul receptive to the inspirations of the Holy Spirit, and to be mutually and spiritually helpful to one another in a sincere and un-feigned charity; they are to study and meditate on Holy Scripture; to be formed in the spiritual doctrine and practice required for the development of a supernatural life, union with God, and the understanding of the re-ligious state; they are to be initiated into the liturgical life and the spiritual discipline proper to their own in-stitute; they are to be given the occasions for striving to preserve faithful union with God in the active life; for the novices there is to be a balancing of periods of ac-tivity and of those given to recollection in prayer, medi-tation, and study to stimulate them to remain faithful to it throughout life, and a similar balancing is desirable during the years of formation before perpetual profes-sion. The Instruction reaffirmed the principle of the spiritual life and of Perfectae caritatis, number 8, that apostolic activity must have its source in intimate union with Christ and that therefore all the members should seek God only and above all, and unite contemplation by which they adhere to Him in mind and heart with apostolic love, in which they are associated with the work of redemption and strive to spread the kingdom of God; that novices are likewise to be formed in purity of intention and love for God and man; to learn to use this world as if they did not use it; realize that devotion to God and man demands a humble control of self; culti-vate the necessary human and spiritual balancing of the times given to the apostolate and the service of men and of the properly prolonged periods, in solitude or in com-munity, dedicated to prayer and to the meditative read-ing of the Sacred Scriptures. By fidelity to this most necessary and important program in all such institutes, the novices will gradually develop a peaceful union with God, which comes from conformity to the will of God. They must learn to discern the divine inspirations in the duties of their state, especially those of justice and charity. A mutual confidence, docility, and openness are to be fostered between superiors, the master of novices, and the novices that the master may be able to direct the generosity of the novices to a complete gift of themselves to God and lead them gradually to discern in the mys-tery of Christ crucified the demands of true religious + + + Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 905 obedience, and in this manner inspire them to an active and responsible obedience. The Instruction affirms with sufficient emphasis that the religious s~ate is different from secular institutes and from the state of the laity. ~. F. Gall~, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS SISTER MARY PATRICIA NORTON A New Form Community oJ Religious Government The custom that has been traditionally followed in women's religious communities of focusing all authority, responsibility, and decision-making in one person at the local, regional, and generalate level has, we believe, been a custom that grew up as a result of historical circumstances. When some of the original women's re-ligious communities were founded, there was a com-paratively small number of the members that were well educated. There has, of course, always been a local, regional, and general council to assist and advise the superior; but in actual practice the superior has gen-erally led an overburdened existence, weighed down by the responsibility of major decisions. Since the founding of the early communities, the pic-ture has changed dramatically. The rank and file sisters are no longer uneducated followers. Vatican Council II has told us that the Holy Spirit breathes up ~rom below, that is, He speaks and points out the way through the person of each and every member of the community. In the summer of 1967, the 48 Maryknoll Sisters working in Korea, considering the problems of the past, the directions of the future, and the urgings of Vatican Council II (that "all members of the community have a share in the welfare of the whole community and a responsibility for it"--~om the Decree on Ap-propriate Renewal o[ Religious Life, n. 14), began to draw up a new plan for regional government. This plan was to provide for sharing more broadly the burdens of responsibility, participation of every member in the decision-making and planning of community affairs, and to foster in each member a mature spirit of initiative and involvement. The experiment is at present under way with three elected members now jointly sharing the responsibilities that had previously belonged to the regional superior. 4, 4, Siste~ Patricia Norton is missioned at the Maryknoll Hospital; P.O. Box 77; Pusan, Korea. VOLUME 28, 1969 907 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOU$ (Note: The work of the Maryknoll Sisters in Korea is designated as a regional unit.) No one of these is superior to the others in authority or responsibility. Each one is responsible in the area that has been allotted to her: Personnel, Administration-finance, and Planning-research respectively. These three sisters are known as the Regional Team. Although each one has her area of responsibility, she does not bear this burden alone. Each of these team members has a corresponding committee of 4 regular members and one alternate member. Each committee meets once a month and the results of these meetings constitute the agenda for the meeting of the Regional Team (the three team leaders). The Regional Team also aims at meeting monthly as high priority has been placed on the value of close and frequent communications. It is felt that real participation of each and every mem-ber of the region is dependent on the thoroughness of these communications. In addition to the monthly meetings of both team and committees, good communications are fostered by availa-bility of the minutes of the Regional Team, of each of the three committees, and the publication of the agenda before each meeting. With the publishing of the agenda, each sister is invited to respond with her ideas, sugges-tions, objections, and so forth to any item on the agenda. This is one technique to insure participation by every individual. Furthermore, all those sisters who are neither mem-bers of the team nor of one of the committees become members of an interest area. The latter means that the sister has indicated her interest in one of the areas, follows the activities of that committee in par-ticular, and is ready at any time to fully participate. The Maryknoll Sisters are divided among six houses in Korea. In the event that one of these houses does not have a particular committee member, one of the in-terest area members acts as contact person for that house. Planning for this experiment began in early Fall of 1967. It was formally inaugurated at a regionwide work-shop in October of that year. Since that time it has undergone several evaluations resulting in both minor and major changes. What so far have been the advantages and disad-vantages in regard to this experiment? Some of the disadvantages: ---outsiders who have contacts with the Maryknoll Sisters do not understand it; --it is expensive (train travel and postage) and time consuming; ---it deprives the other sisters of that leisure they used to have while the superior did all the work. Some of the advantages: --it takes the heavy, burden from the shoulders of one person and spreads it" out over the shoulders of all; --it provides for the utilization of the ideas, inspira-tions, and talents of each person rather than just two or three; --it provides for decisions to be made at the level at which they are carried out; --it helps to uncover and develop leadership qualities in a wider spectrum O[ persons; ---it allows for a more truly Christian li[e [or each sister as a completely participating person, con-scious of her own role of responsibility for the success or failure of Maryknoll works in Korea; ---it cuts down dissatisfaction and provides a channel for rectifying any dissatis[actions that may occur. The comment was made by one observer: "It deprives the religious of that necessary sacrifice involved in obedience to a superior." Those who have been living ¯ this experiment would strongly differ. Obedience is not a vanished thing. It is merely the focus that has changed. Decisions are made through group-to-group or individ-ual- to-group dialogue and the individual remains open and ready to obey the results of this dialogue. It is now two years since the initial idea for this type of government was discussed. Since that time there have been many pros and cons, many wrinkles to be ironed out. It has been said by informed sources that such an arrangement Without ultimate responsibility resting in one person can never be a success. The Maryknoll Sisters are willing to concede that this may be true. But they are not willing to concede without an earnest trial. ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 28, 1969 9O9 WILLIAM A. HINNEBUSCH, O.P. Origins and Development oJ Religious Orders William A. Hin-nebusch, O.P., teaches ecclesiastical history at the Do-minican House of Studies; 487 Michi-gan Avenue, Waahington, D.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 910 An# attentive study of the origins and history of reli-gious orders reveals that there are two primary currents in religious life--contemplative and apostolic. Vatican II gave clear expression to this fact when it called on the members of every community to "combine contem-plation with apostolic love." It went on to say: "By the former they adhere to God in mind and heart; by the latter they strive to associate themselves with the work of redemption and to spread the Kingdom of God" (PC, 5). The orders1 founded before the 16th century, with the possible exception of the military orders, recognized clearly the contemplative element in their lives. Many of them, however, gave minimum recognition to the apos-tolic element, if we use the word "apostolic" in its pres-ent- day meaning, but not if we understand it as they did. In their thinking, the religious life was the Apos-tolic life. It reproduced and perpetuated the way of living learned by the Apostles from Christ and taught by them to the primitive Church of Jerusalem. Since it was lived by the "Twelve," the Apostolic life included preaching and the other works of the ministry. The pas-sage describing the choice of the seven deacons in the Acts of the Apostles clearly delineates the double ele-ment in the Apostolic life and underlines the contem-plative spirit of the Apostles. The deacons were to wait on tables; the Apostles were to be free to devote them-selves "to prayer and the ministry of the word" (Acts 6:~4~). ¯ This is the text of an address given to the annual meeting of United States major superiors of men religious held in June, 1968, at Mundelein, Illinois. x I use the words, "order," "monasticism," and their derivatives in a wide sense to include all forms of the religious life. In its strict sense "monasticism" applies only to the monks and does not extend to the friars and the clerks regular. There were, however, exceptions to the general rule that monks did not engage in the ministry. An Eastern current of monasticism, influenced by John Chrysostom, viewed missionary work as a legitimate activity of the monk; and, as we shall see, many Western monks shared this conviction. Nevertheless, missionary activity did not become an integral part of monasticism. Even after most monks became priests, they considered their vocation to lie within the monastery where they could contemplate and dedicate themselves to the service of God. Since the clergy did not embrace the religious life, with the ex-ception of those of Eusebius of Vercelli and Augustine of Hippo, the ministerial element remained generally absent from the religious life until the development of the canons regular. In itself the life of the monks was exclusively contemplative. "Tradition assigns no other end to the life of a monk than to 'seek God' or 'to live for God alone,' an ideal that can be attained only by life of penance and .prayer. The first and fundamental manifestation of such a vocation is a real separation from the world." Yet in the thinking of the monks and of the friars, who integrated apostolic activity into the religious life, their prayer, contemplation, and example were mighty forces working for the upbuilding of the Body of Christ. Foundation o[ Monasticism Though other Scriptural elements contributed to the origin of monasticism, the concept of the Apostolic life was the decisive force. This truth has been demon-strated by historians who have been studying this point for over half a century; it has recently been dis-cussed scripturally by Heinz Schiirmann, professor of New Testament exegesis at Erfurt. The historians show how the life of the Apostles and the primitive Christians influenced the origins and growth of monasticism; Schiirmann makes clear that the constitutive elements of the religious life were taught to and demanded of the Apostles by Christ. Religious life is rooted in the key Biblical texts that record the calling and formation of the Apostles. These passages determine the character of the Apostolic office and the relationship of the Apostles to Jesus. They are to be with Him, listen to Him, and follow Him. His call is rigorous and imperious. He demands commitment without reserve. Negatively, this requires a complete break with one's previous life: family, wife, home, and oc-cupation; positively, it establishes the Apostles in a state of total availability. Abandoning their possessions, their means of livelihood and, like the lily and raven, trusting completely in divine providence, they follow Christ, + ÷ ÷ Religious Orders VOLUME 28, 1969 9]] W. A. Hinnebusch, 0~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 912 putting themselves in a student-teacher, servant-master relationship to Him. All .the features of their new life with Him are already conveyed in brief in Mark's ac-count of their call: And going up a mountain, he called to him men of his own choosing, and they came to him. And he appointed twelve that they might be with him and that he might send them forth to preach (3:13-5). In this text, too, we find the first s~atement of the contemplative and apostolic elements that reappear in the religious life. They are "to be with him." Here is the contemplative element. They are "with him," devoting themselves to the "one thing necessary"--listening to His word. Yet in hearing and learning .they are made ready so "that he might send them forth to preach." As Schiirmann summarizes it: First they hear and learn, then they teach and act: "Preaching isonly one part of their life and its follows from the other." The Apostles enter irrevocably into a community of life with Jesus. They share His life and destiny: eat with Him, walk the dusty roads with Him, serve the people with Him, undergo His trials, conflicts, persecu-tions. They must be ready to hate and even to lose their lives for His sake. He wants total obedience, one based on their "faith in Him who calls and proposes the word of God in an entirely unique fashion. Their following of Christ becomes understandable only as a permanent state of profession of faith., fit] opens up a new pos-sibility of existence, a new manner of being-in-the-world, a new 'state' of life." Though the Apostles take no vows, their life is that of the three counsels. Christ imposes no greater moral de-mands on them than on all the other believers, but they alone live this close community life with Him. Not all who declare for Christ are chosen by Him to follow Him in this intimate, permanent way. Obviously Mary, Martha, and Lazarus do not. Others asked to be ad-mitted into the group of disciples but were not accepted. Mark (5:18-19) describes one case: As Jesus was getting into the boat, the man who had been afflicted by the devil began to entreat him that he might re-main with him. And he did not allow him, but said to him, "Go home to thy relatives, and tell them all that the Lord has done for thee, and how he has had mercy on thee." (See also Mt 11:28, Mk 3:35, Lk 12:8-9, 10:38-42, 9:61-2.) Being with Christ constantly, hearing His word, com-pletely obedient to His wishes, separated from family, home, and occupation, the Apostles enter a new form of existence that signifies. The prime purpose of their spe-cialized following is to declare themselves openly for Him, so that all might come to believe in Him. In a strikingly visible way their intimate following pro-claims to the Jewish world that the one thing necessary is to hear the word of Christ and to keep it. Their visi-ble, stable following becomes a sign to the world. Only after they have made this permanent commitment are they sent out to preach and to act. At every step in monastic history, whether in its ori-gins, renewals, or creation of new forms, the Apostolic life taught by Christ to the Twelve, and by them to the primitive Christian community of Jerusalem, was the leading and most powerful influence. The Gospel texts and those in the Acts of the Apostles that describe the primitive community were decisive in creating the con-cept of monasticism and in fashioning its life and usages. In the Jerusalem community we find fraternal unanim-ity, common ownership of possessions, fidelity to the teachings of Christ, common public prayer, intense pri-vate prayer. The following passages embody all these features: Now the multitude of the believers were of one heart and soul, and not one of them said anything he possessed was his own, but they had all things in common (Acts 4:32). And they continued steadfastly in the teaching of the apostles, and in the communion of the breaking of bread and in the prayers. And all who believed were together and held all things in common. And continuing daily with one accord in the temple, and breaking bread in. their houses, they took their food with gladness and simplicity of heart, praising God and being in favor with all people (Acts 2:42-7; see also 1:14, 3:1, 6:4,34; Mt 10:gff). The ministry of the word, evangelical preaching of salvation, was c~irried out by the Apostles (Mk 6:6-13; Acts 6:4), a mission that entailed indefatigable journey-ing (Mt 10:7if; Mk 6:6-13; Acts 6:4). Only the pre-dominately lay character of early monasticism delayed the full realization of the ministerial mendicant orders. For centuries monks examined and lovingly scruti-nized the texts. The power that they exercised over monastic founders is illustrated by the passage where Athanasius describes the origin of Antony's vocation in his Life of Antony: As he was walking along on his way to Church, he col-lected his thoughts and reflected how the Apostles left every-thing and followed the Savior; also how the people in Acts sold what they had and laid it at the feet of the Apostles for distribution among the needy; and what great hope is laid up in Heaven for such as these. With these thoughts in his mind he entered the church. And it so happened that the Gospel was being read at that moment and he heard the passage in which the Lord says to the rich man: "If thou wilt be perfect, ¯ go sell all that thou hast, and give it to the poor; and come, follow me and thou shalt have treasures in heaven," 4- 4- Religious Orders VOLUME 28~ 1969 W. A. Hinnebusch, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS As though God had been speaking directly to him, An-tony left the church, sold what he had, gave it to the poor, and went into the desert. During subsequent centuries the Scriptures lost none of their influence over monasticism. The Apostolic texts led to much more than the abandonment of riches and fleeing the world; they provided a complete program of life in community. Explaining the origins of monasti-cism about 1122 A.D., Abbot William of Saint-Thierry shows how the meditation of hundreds of years had sys-tematized the Scriptural influence: We come to this spiritual sbciety of which the Apostle Paul spoke to the Philippians (2:1-5; 3:17) in praise of the regular discipline and of the sublime joy of brothers living together in unanimity. To do justice to this discipline it is necessary to return to its beginning in the time of the Apostles, since it was the Apostles themselves who instituted it as their own way of life, according to the teaching of the Lord. Unless it was the grace of the Holy Spirit which gave them power from above to live together in such a way that all would have but one heart and one soul, so that everything would be held in common, and all would be continually in the temple in a spirit of harmony. Animated by a great !ove for this form of life instituted by the Apostles, certain men wished no longer to have any other house or any other lodging than the hbuse of God, the house of prayer. All that they did they did according to a common program, under a common rule. In the name of the Lord they lived together, possessing nothing of their own, not even their bodily strength, nor were they even masters of their own will. They lay down to sleep at the same time, they rose up together, they prayed, they sang Psalms, they studied together. They showed the fixed and changeless will of being obedient to their superiors and of being entirely submissive to them. They kept their needs to a minimum and lived with very little; they had poor clothes, a mean diet, and limited everything according to a very precise rule. Influence o[ Cassian Soon after Antony went into the desert, the influence of the Scriptures on monastic origins was enhanced by a misconception of Eusebius and Jerome, who mistakenly believed that the Apostolic life of the primitive Jerusa-lem community was followed in Alexandria, Rome, and other centers. Writing a century later, Cassian developed this misconception and found in it th~ explanation of the rise of monasticism: The conversion of the Gentiles forced an abandonment of the Apostolic way by the ma-jority of Christians, even by the clergy. More zealous souls refused to give it up and founded communities to perpetuate it. This theory was very fruitful in its effects when it was coupled with the example of Antony and Pachomius, the founder of the cenobitic life, who were inspired by the Scriptures alone. This fusion constituted a powerful op- erative force in the development of monasticism for many centuries. Scarcely any monastic 'author was read so continuously as Cassian. As late as the thirteenth cen-tury, St. Dominic was reading his Conferences. Con-stantly read and reread, Cassian's books [ashioned the medieval--and our ownnmonastic life. The Holy Spirit at Work in the Church The truth underlying Cassian's error is the almost simultaneous appearance of the religious life everywhere that the Church took root. The origin of the monastic life was a spontaneous manifestation of the Holy Spirit impelling Christians to live the life of the counsels taught by Jesus. Antony was merely the first to emerge, thanks to Athanasius, from the anonymity that conceals the virgins, celibates, and ascetics who preceded him. The impetus of the Spirit is seen particularly in the early acceptance of the virginal life by both men and women as a prime means of following the Master. From the end of the first century there are references to ascetics who lived continently "in honor of the flesh of Christ." After the third century virgins were looked upon as "the most illustrious portion of the flock of Christ" and were considered the spouses of Christ. Perfect continence, to-gether with voluntary poverty and austerity of life, was a constitutive element of the ascetical life that began to develop in the second century. Though these ascetics lived in their homes, sometimes holy women, widows, and virgins formed small communities that were marked by considerable personal freedom. The general reverence of the Church for chastity when Antony became a hermit about 300 A.D. accounts in large measure for the immediate wide diffusion of the eremitic and cenobitic forms of monasticism throughout the Christian world. The dynamic power of the Holy Spirit has been con-stantly operative during the history of the religious life. Here again there is a link with the early community of Jerusalem. These Christians, as we find their record in Acts, were very conscious of the action of the Spirit in their lives and apostolic works. Theirs was a life lived in the ~lan of the Spirit, as Vicaire remarks. ImmediateIy after describing the primitive community, the Acts of the Apostles goes on to say: "And great grace was upon them all" (4:33). This grace made itself visible even by miracles: "And many wonders and signs were done through the apostles" (2:43). When William of Saint-Thierry, whom I quoted a few pages back, described monastic origins, he manifested the awareness the monks had that the charismatic power of the Spirit was at work among them. In William's think-ing it was the "grace of the Holy Spirit which gave [the ÷ ÷ 4. Religious Orders VOLUME 28, 1969 W. A o Hinnebusch~ O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Apostles] power from above to live together in such a way that all would have but one heart and one soul, so that everything would be held in common . '~ Cen-turies before, Gregory the Great, writing his Dialogues within fifty years of the death of Benedict, described the great patriarch of Western monasticism as the ideal "man of God," the spiritual father who was entirely under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. The attention paid to the miracles worked by the founders and great figtires of monastic history is not merely a thoughtless emphasis on the secondary but was motivated by. the belief that the true monk, living in community, possesses an extraordinary grace for radiat-ing sanctity and contributing to the upbuilding of the B6dy of Christ. He can even receive from the Spirit the power of working miracles. The present-day interest in the charismatic character of the religious life and the charismatic founders is a legitimate, more explicit, recognition of the power of the Spirit working through all the years of monastic history. His role in the religious life deserves more attention and should awaken in us a great hope in the future of the religious life. Antony the Hermit Monasticism entered the pages of history close to the year 300 A.D. when Antony, the great hermit, gave away his possessions and retired to the Egyptian desert. The holiness and ordered discipline of his life, characterized by solitary contemplation and a severe but lofty and well-balanced asceticism soon brought other hermits to him for direction. Great colonies of solitaries arose under Antony's direction, especially at Pispir, where he lived, and at Nitria and Scete. These disciples lived alone like their master. Antony found so many imitators because of his moral greatness at a time of growing wickedness in the contemporary world. When Constantine ended the per-secutions and began to favor Christianity, the consequent lowering of the moral level of Christian life stimulated the development of a powerful ascetical movement, in-spired by the Gospels, on the ~ringes of the populated world. Antony became the model of the movement, especially after the appearance of his Life, written by Athanasius in 357 A.D., a year after Antony died. Gre-gory of Nazianzen called it "a rule of monastic life in the form of a narrative." Athanasius, who had known Antony personally and had seen him often, considered "the life of Antony an ideal pattern of the ascetical life." He intended to hold up Antony as the exemplar of the consecrated life and induce his readers to imitate what they saw. The work enjoyed a~tonishing success and was shortly translated into various languages. Antony, earnestly desiring to die the death of a martyr, went to Alexandria in 311 A.D., when the persecution of Maximin Daja broke out, to minister to the confessors in the mines and prisons, not thinking it justified to turn himself over to the authorities. When his hopes were dis-appointed, Antony returned to his desert cell where "he was a daily martyr to his conscience, ever fighting the battles of the faith. For he practiced a zealous and more intense ascetic life." With this short passage Athanasius enriched monasticism at its very birth with a positive view of asceticism and the renunciations involved in the life of the counsels. Antony's life in the desert was a substitute martyrdom and the monk the successor to the . martyr, a concept that remains alive to this day. Pachomius the Cenobite The weakness of the ei:emitical life lay in the minimal opportunity for practicing charity. Pachomius remedied this defect when he formed a genuine fellowship based on the communal charity inherent in Christianity. He composed the first monastic Rule, in it establishing the economic and spiritual bases for the common life and providing for community government. A younger con-temporary of Antony, Pachomius first served an appren-ticeship under the hermit Palaemon. Then about the year 320 A.D. he established a monastery at Tabennisi on the right bank of the Nile. Other monasteries soon followed, so that when he died, nine for men and two for women were under his guidance. These foundations were large settlements of monks who were organized into smaller groups according to the kind of agricultural work they did or the crafts they practiced. They lived a disciplined life, practiced individual poverty and de-tachment in essential matters, supported themselves by remunerative work, gathered for prayers morning and evening, and observed the three counsels, though they took no vows. Numerous biographies testify to the esteem in which Pachomius was held and the extent of his in- ~uence. Basil the Great The eremitical and cenobitic types of monasticism spread quickly both in East and West. Basil the Great, who benefited from the experience of the previous half century bf monastic experience, became the lawgiver of Eastern monasticism when he wrote his Longer R

Issue 11.4 of the Review for Religious, 1952. ; A.M.D. G~ Review for Religious JULY 15, 1952 Parallel Vocations . Nicholas H. Rieman Bibles . William M. Sfritch Unigeni÷us Dei Filius . Pope Plus x~ To a Master of Novices . Fra L. Ganganelli .Higher Education . Sister M. Bonaventure National Congress Questions and Answers Modesty Crusade Book Reviews VOLUME NUMBER REViI::W FOR RI::LIGIOUS VOLUME XI JULY, 1952 NUMBER CONTENTS PARALLEL VOCATIONS--Nicholas H. Rieman, S.J .1.69 BIBLES--William M. Stritch, S.J . 177 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 182 REPRINTS OF SPONSA CHRISTI . ¯ . 182 UNIGENITUS DEI FILIUS--Pope Plus XI . 183 BOOKS FOR.PRIESTS . 198 FOR ORGANISTS AND CHOIRMASTERS .1.98 LETTER TO A MASTER OF NOVICES--Fra Lorenzo Ganganelll 199 TEN-YEAR INDEX STILL AVAILABLE . 202 HIGHER EDUCATION AND "REAL RELIGION"-- Sister M. Bonaventure, O.S.F . 203 NATIONAL CONGRESS . 210 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 19. Prescriptions for the Chapter of Faults . 211 20. Precedence in Receiving Communion . . ¯ .212 SHALL I START TO DRINK? . 213 BOOK REVIEWS~ The Morning Offering; What is the Index?; The Seminarian at His Prie-Dieu; The Carmelite Directory of the Spiritual Life .214 BOOK NOTICES . 217 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 221 PROMOTE THE MODESTY CRUSADE . 223 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, July, 1952. Vol. XI, No. 4. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street; Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Jerome Breunig, S.J.; Augustine G. Ellard, S.J.: Adam C. Ellis, S.J.; Gerald Kelly, S.J. Copyright, 1952, by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Before writincj to us, please consult notice on Inside back cover. Parallel Voca!:ions Nicholas H. Rieman, S.3. ~yJE RELIGIOUS know the worth of our vocation. We rank it -W among~ur greatest blessin~gs. A precious gift in itself, it car-~ ries .with it numerouk other gifts, such as our. rpraye~-'and Mass, spiritual guidhnce', our companions," and our apostolic work'. We are glad we took the step knto religion, andewe miss no chance to draw others to religion too. .But perhaps we are not aware that our r~ligious vocation can be partly.sh'ared even with lay folks. A. molag the most effective ways we~h~ve of sha"ring our vocati6n ig encourag-. ing and conducting third 0rd~rs. confra:ernities, so'dalities and simi'- l'ar organizat!ons.~ The present article confines itself to. the parallel vocation as found in the Sodality'of Our Lads,. .' ¯ There is a special reason why tile possibilities of ~uch a Sqdality should be unfolded to religious.~ It is this: .while the director of-a Sodality must always beLa priest, yet"in a scho01or hospital the', actual l~andling of aSodality .is often left"to Brother Michael or to -Sister 3oan. Also, besides those who are moderators ofSodalities, many other religious superiors, principals, ¯floor. supervisors in.hos-pitals, teachers, nurses, he'ads of different ~ictivities--can help much. They.can lend interest and co0pfration to 'insure that the Sodality in their institutions be a true Sodality, and lay people bent on some-thing more than me.dioctity be drawn to its rankS. Many Feligious are, then, in a tposition to forward good Sodalities. By doing so;. they can share many of the benefits of a religious vocation with those who follow the la~; Sodal.ity vocation. - For m'embersbip in the Sodality is also a vocation. Our present Holy Fatber'has clearly in his Apostolic Constitution Bis Saecular~ placed the Sodality in the troop--sof Catboh"c ~-A "ctton. And Catholic Acti0n~-the words are thdse of Plus X'I is "a vocation strictly and properly so .called." ¯ It is not, of course? a religious vocation. Y,et if is ~ vocation, a way of life, a call to perfection.' The. S6d;ility is open only to those who are ready,.by Go'd's grace, to-adopt the'de2 .mandihg spiritual.and apostolic progr~am it involves. ' Btit'why is the Sodality such an ap't means for sh~iring With lay people something of our religious v6cation? 'F6r.the simple reason that the vocation, of a religious and that of a Sodalist are much alike. ¯ 1.69 NICHOLAS H. RIEMAN Review [or'Religiqus It is nottoo'mu~h t~ call them paraliel vocations, Only a~det~iled comparison will display how far-reaching this parallelism is. Of. course, only true Sodalitiei--those that follow the papal directives and the Sodality rules-~can prodiace this parallelism'and the result-' ant rich spiritual harvest. So, in pointing oot the resemblances.be-l~ ween t'he two vocations, I shall ~lso suggest how ~a Sodality must be co'nducted in order to secure these benefits. . What then. are some of the parallels between religious and So-dality life? First, becoming a Sodalist, like becoming a Franciscan or a.Sister of'Merry, is a lifetime,undertaking. Joining the So, dality is not like joining the staff of the school paper or the dramatic club. These latter are hobbies; the Sodality is a vocation, A Sodalist agrees to follow the Sodality way of life not just at school, but when on vacation, when working in a facto.ry or office, when married--in. short, for life. Pius XII. knows that very well: be never, says, "I wa~ a Sodalist, but always, '"I am a. Sodahst, although he took his act .of consecration and' entered the Sodality 56 years ago. More will b~ said later of the Sodality act of consecration. Here it isi'enough to.stress one thing. This consecration, and so the ac-ceptance of Sod, ality obligations that goes with it, is for life. True, a temporary act of consecration for 'a year can" be and sometimes is made in Junior Sodalities (those in grammar schools), since at that age level most of the candidates are sddom mature enough for a life-time dedication. But the ordinary act ofconsecration taken by teen-~ agers and adults is, as clearly, indicated in both its forms in the Sodality Rules, perpetual. The Sodality vocatioia, like a religious vocation, is perpetual. Besides being a. lifetime dedication, becoming a S6dalist is also, l'ike becoming a religious, a full-time occupation. One must be a Sodalist 24 hours a day. Just as being a Christian Brother .affects not only a. man's Mass and his meal-times, but his work and recrea-tion too, s6 being., a Sodalist doesn't mean only .attending meet.ings, saying one's rosary, 'and taking p~art in a cl0thes-for-I~or~a drive, 'Being a Sodalist must--and in a Sodality that follows the rules, does. --affect a boy's lock~r-room langu;ige, the kind of formal a girl wears to a prom, and every other action that fills the dajr of either of them. Tru.e, a Sodalist does not, as is generally true of religious, have his wgrk assigned by ~uperi0rs. 'Yet a Sodalist, just like any of us, has to show a good example and. beactively ap0s~olic every minute of his waking day. Nor is this an impossible ideal, a pipe. 170 dui~,1952 ~ARALLEL VOCATIONS dream. In Sodalities that follow Plus XII's stipulations and actually .require,observance of the. Sgdality rules, this is a normal result, re-alized, if not perfectly,. at least in large measure. The act of consecration to Our Lady which admits one tb the Sodality parallels very close.ly the vows of reli~ious orders. Even the .wgrding of the act of consecration in the St. Francis,de Sales fbrmula, ~clbsely resembles the vow formula of some religious. "It is not a vow, of. course, and so does not bind ur~der sin, but it is a solemn dedication. ~ And What doek the Sodalist promise? Pius XII gives us the'answer. "To apply oneself seriously to sanctity, each in his proper state: to dedicate .oneself, not in any manner whatsoever but 'with ardor, in ~the measure and manner compatible with each one,s social condition to the s'alvation and perfection of others: in a word[ to emplby oneself strenoously in the defense of the Church of Christ: such is the assignment of the Sodalist, freely, resolutely ac-cepted in theact of his con'secration." In short, he says, "conse-cration to the Mother of God in the Sodality is an entire gift of one-self throughout life and for all eternity." It is the solemn, acceptance of a way of life forall one's future vears. The act' of consecration is the cornerstone of the Sodality vocation, even though not absolutely required for valid reception. It should be for the incoming Sodalist a thing only a little less tremendous than. the taking of vows i's to .religious This act of consecration is often renewed by earnest So-dalistS, .just as rdligious often renew their vows, even though they are perpetual. The Sodality~onsecration is not specific~illy directed to vows' of r~overtv, cha'stity, and obedience, as are the.vows of religious. Still it implies that Sodalists practice these three virtues to a higher degree than ordinary Christi~ins. A special obedience to the hierarchy of the Church is requi.red by the Sodality's character as Catholic Action, and. was referred to by PiusXII as a prominent feature of Sodalities. A relative indifferdnce to material goods, is obviously necessary for the practice of a constant apostolate. Lastly, chastity--according to one's state, which doesn't necessarily mean celibacy--is naturally the ideal of one speci.all'y dedicated to.Mary. ¯ The Sodality, too, has its ~novitiate," call~d the probati6n. It is required of all candidates before admission. A religiolis,novitiate mus~ be a year lbng, and man~, orders and congregations require two years. How long is the Sodality probation? "Not less than two months" is required by.Sodality rules, but most effective Sodalitles ,171 NICHOLA~ H, RIEMAN " ~ x Revieu2 for'Reli~Tious rriake it.six months and quite a few of tlqem, especially thoke for hi~h" school students a.full ,year. The purpose of the Sodality p~b-bation is the same as that of a religious novitiate: tb acquaint, to test. t6 train. " " "It acquaints_ tl-i~'aspiraht with what the Sodality is.~ind how. it functions.'so that he can bi~tter "decide whether .hE wants to make-the" sacrifices inv~lved.It tests the candidate, and tries to find out whether~ he~ha~iwhat it takes.,to livEforevek the Sodality v~ay of life. It. trains him in" devotion to. Mary, in spiritual exercises ahd apostolic activi-ti~;: so that if- he ,is accepted, he ,will already-h'ave largely~, acquired the attitudes .and habits nee-ded to li,¢e and'act as/a Sodalist ghould. dust like.a, religlous novitiate. the Sodality 'probation is' heavily. weighted'on'the spiritual side. It stresses ingtructi'on, direction. 'and above, allT-prayer. ' " " '. ¯ -Like a religious.'order, or congregation. the S0dalit~ has its, rules. They.'are not-as demanding' as the rules of religious, btit tt~ey do clearly aim at a,high degree'of spirituality. They are all-in the pam-ph! et. Sodalit~l"Rule~. 'In his A1fostolic. Constitution of 1948 Pius XII.refers to them 25. times. It is clear that in. his mind an easy test of the calibre of"a Sodality.is whether it really keeps the rules. In a Sod~dity as."in religious orders the ~pirjt of the rules is always more important tha~ the letter, and'so Sodality rules w,hich refer only ,to procedure at, meetings and such topics should n'ot bd applied wood-enly . Yet the:rules embbdy the. spiril~ .of an organization, and if" th~yfallinto disregard and disuse, the rd'sult will be as disastrbus toa SQdality as: it would be to, a religigus'order.~ ¯ :-. In .its spiritual practices, and .to a. smaller exteni i~ its apostolic a.ctivity a °Sddality, clgsely parallels religious.c.ongreg~tions.- First, let.'us 'ma'ke a thorough survey of"it.s spiritual.exercises, for they are the dynamo on'wh.ich Sodality activities depend. Most .of these dai.ly duties are containe_d'in R.u:le 34 of the Sodality. This rule deserves to be quo,ted in full: ":Sodalist~ must be very careful, to p~actice'~hose exercises of piel~y which are most necess.a.ry for fervbl of life. Every morning.on ~i~jng,,let"them make 'the. acts of faith, hope, and'ch~r-ity; thank God our Lord for His.benefits:: offer Him their labors~ with the" intention of-gaining all",.the mdu.lgences~ they.can~.through-out that day;, and invoke 't~'e Blessed. Virgin'. by reciting thd Hail Mary three times. Le~t. tbem.':devote at least a quarter of an hour td mental prayer: be presenL if they can: a'~the adoiable Sacri}ice of,the Mass; and recite the most HolyoRosary, or some Office of Our'I2ady. 172 "dul~], 1952- PARALLEL VOCATIONS In the evening before retiring, let them carefully examine their con-science and make a fervent act of contrition, for the sins of-their whole life and especially for those committed on that day." The t~rst item mentioned on the day's spiritual schedule of a So-dalist is the prayers on rising:, faith, hope, love, thanksgiving, offering'of works, three Hail Marys. The aim of these brief vocal prayers is of.course to start the d~iy r.igbt, with and for God.They remind us at once of the "morning prayers~ . morning visit," or "first visit," of religious.They are a dedication of.the day to God. Next is mentioned daily mental prayer "at least a quarter of an hour:'" All religious institutes have, I believe, a half-hour of mental prayer, and some have more. The Sodality rule demanding daily mental prayer is as clear and unconditional as the rule of reli-gious c6n'gregations on. this point. The'only difference is in the length of time. The conclusion ought to be obvious. If a' religious-would not admit to vows a novice who did not regularly perform his meditation, why should we expect h S6dality to admit candi-dates who are not reasonably faithful in fulfilling this clear Sodality demand? Again, if novices need instruction in the bow-when-where- why of mental prayer to enable them to perform it profitably, won't Sodalists need the same? A Sodality in which the members are' faithful to their rule on mental prayer will be a Sodality that can move spiritual mountains, even if i~ has'only fifty members or even only ten. Further, says the rule, Sodalists must attend daily Ma~s "if they can." This practice, too. is modelled on that of religious. How-- ever,, for religious the "if they can" is gefierally an unneeded addi-tion: since their ~ommon life and work assignments are arranged so that it is a!ways possible for them to do so. Though daily Mass may sometimes be impossible for this or that Sodalist, such cases are rare. The trouble is that too often the '.'if they can" of the rule is taken to mean,"if th.ey choose': or'"if they do not find it incon-venient." But the John Carroll Univeisity Sodality, and marly another too, has sfiown that practically all Sodalists can atterld Mass seven days.a week if they want to. Daily Holy Cohamunion, of course, cannot be required of.Sodal-ists any more than it can of religious. But Sodalists in iheir Rule39, as all religious somewhere in their rules, are strongly urged to fre- ¯ quent and even daily Communion. Most Sodalities that observe the rules and require daily Mass find that all their members receive Corn- NICHOLAS H. RIEMAN . °. Reoie~o for ReligiO~s" .muni6n freq~uently, and the great majority of l~he.m~daily. Next the).Sodality rule requires daily, recitation of the rosary, or an Office of. Our La~y --- ~.g.; theOffice 6f the Ihamac~late .Concep-., tion. On day, s w.hen~the Sodality meets, such an Office, or part of it, is sometimes said or sung in common. ]3ut in their daily prac-tice, most Sodalists piefer the rosarY, and this .dail~ du.ty is o~ten perforrfied in"an ideal Way, with one's family. In religious orders and'congregation~, the daily rosary also forms, either by rule or by ¯ custom, part of th~ spiri(ual exercises, at least where the Office of Our Lady.is not required. Like most religious orders, the Sodality rules requir~.a daily ex-~¯ . amination of conscience at night. The reason is the same., We all know how a daily check on.our faults or virtues helps us to fiaake ,our following 0f Christ .a, practical thing, a love of deeds,and not. merely of imagination. The particular examen too, which focuses our attenti6n'or~ a "single virtue or fault, and in° which we religious find so much value, ought to be offerdd by us to Sodalists as well. A Sodalist, like a relig!ous,needs direction in this business;' of striving for p.erfection. Both need a ~piritual directo? to answer p.r~b~lems,.instruct, enc~ourgge. This i~ particul.arly trfie for the reli-gious nowce or the Sodality probationer, but it is true also for those who have already made their'lifetime consecration. S6dalists ought, to.~o to confession often; and to'get real spiritual direction from regular confessor. Rule 36 of the ~ddality is very clea~,on tl'Jis mat~ ter. .How, ever, although one's spiritual director is always a priest,~ still just as a novice-mistress can help her charges.greatly in their ori-entationto.~ eligious life, so fdr example in a girls' school, if'the So-dality moderator is a nun, she c~in on a more limited scale greatly "help her incoming Sodalists, ¯or those who are.already 'rnemb~rs, in their spiritual life.¯ Sodalis~s must make an annual retreat. Rule 9, which imposes" this i3b.ligat~on, does not set a specific l~ngtl~ of ti.me, b~t only says,¯ "There shall be a retreat every year for some days.-. " This rule does, however, str, ongly advise a clo~ed [etreat,° not fia~rely an ope,n retreat'in wl~ich the retreatants go home in the afterfioons. Also,-it cl,e.arly expects .tha~ the Sodali~(s' not only listen to t.alks, but perform meditations during the retreat~. For best rest.Its, too, the retreat h~uld, be fdr Sodalists only, just as theretreat a nun to be for nuns of her institute¯ only, not for a mixed gathering of nuns, priests, ' and .lay people. If such oa Sodality *r~treat is really im- 174- ¯ July, 19~2 -,~ PARALLEL VOCATIONS' possible, then even during the regular school or coll~ge retreat, Sodalists could make some speci~il m~ditations on their Sodality way of life,' and assign a special time for examen and for some spiritual readingdirected to" their own spiritual level. For~among Sodalists as ¯ -among re!igious the retre~it should be a powerhouse that makes its fotce'felt all through (he yea.r. It can do this best if it is adapted. to their'Sc~dality way of life., Closely" parallel in their spiritualduties a~d practices, the Sodal- .ity and.religious communities are para.llel, too,-though much less so,. .'in.their work, their apostolate. This is r;ot true of strict °contem-i~ lative orders engaging irf no outside activity, for while the prayer and penance and union with God of such contempla, tives'have an apostolic as well as a personal motive and .are in fact a tremenddus . apostolic weapon, yet they cannot, be called.external activity. 'But with religious communities engaging in external works, the Sodal, ity in its apostolate has certain likenesses. If'well understood, these, simi~ " larities will help us to cohceive,the Sodality more correctly; and mo~e.~ ¯ easily share with Sodalists our Own apostoli.c outlook, 'energy, and techniques. Apostolic work is, first of ,all, just as essential to the Sodality as to acfive:~eligious c~mmunities, and it is as deeply .rootedin pe"r-sonal sanctity. A teaching Brother who¯ recites~fill his pra~;e.rs me-ticulously but who is careless about preparing fo~ his classes is not' living.his rel~igious life f.ully.~ .Nor do~s a nursing ~ister have a-true view of he.r life.if she thifiks of holiness only as something personal,¯ and. does not see that.her.work demands sanctity, and depends 9n it. So .to_6 a Sodalist must see Sodality meetings and projects and his own day-to-d~iy contacts With his friends as part of his Sodality vo-. cation. He must clearly grasp, too, that ~11 Sodality action, since its aim is. to develop in men the grace-life, depends less on clever tech-niques. ~ban .on souls charged, with the grace of God. In the S0- dalit~ as in an active, religiohs ~c0mmunity, the spiritual and .the apostolic do not existside by side unrelated to each Other. The So~" dality does,riot have two goals; buta single goal; a spirit.ual- .apostolic goal. The.two facets, of that g0al are mutually dependent. One cannot exist without the other. Also, in the Sodality .as in religion, the apostolate is organized. 'Since the work of most S6dalists study and class, nursing,, office work, factory, work,, homemaking is riot, like the work ofia reli- ~ gious, °.directly. assigned by religious superiors, the activity-of the , 175 NICHOLAS .H. RIEMAN Reoiew ?or Religious S0dalists is both organized and individual. It .may be strictl~i or-ganized, that is, not only pl~nned in a meeting but carried out by a group. Such would be a weekly trip by S0dalists to theLittle Sis-ters of the Poor to help them care for their' charges. Sodality action may be planned together but cariied out individually, as in the con-tacting of busines~ firms to have them halt sexy advertisingor dis, play Christmas cribs. Or it may be completely indiv, idual, though inspired by Sodality ideals, as when a Sodalist persuades his or her non-Catholic roommate to go to Mass sometimes. Since we reli- -gious. even thdugh our work be hssigned, to some extent use these various apost'olic approaches ourselves, we can and should help So-d~ lli~ts with whom we deal to do the same. '"Among the primary ends of Sodalities." says Plus XI.I, "is to be reckoned every kind'bf apostolate. " " No form of apostolic ac-tion. therefore, is closed to the Sodality, and so the activities of a Sodality should be g~ired to.local needs. Such adaptation in the apostolate is a feature of not.a few religious orders and congrega-tions. We often kee the same order conducting schools on all levels, .foreign missions, hospitals, and sometimes, also parishesi Even if a congregation limits its work to education, its schools will not be car-bon copies.of, each other, but will be adapted somewhat to local con-ditions.'. The needs of each milieu are individual, and ju.st as our own apostolate ~as.religious is adapted to varying conditions, ~o we can show our Sodalists bow to do the same in their adtion for Christ. ¯ One thing more. It is almost to be expected of Sodalists that the choice of their future occupation b~ made due regard being had for their personal bent and quMifications on the basis of its al~ostolic Opportunities. One natural result of this is that'a vigorous.Sodality quickly becomes a rich source of vocations to priestly and religious life. But there are other implicatio~ns too. A Fuller-brush salesman can be an apostle, of course. But picture how much vaster are the apostolic p0ssibilities of a teaching position ' in a secular university, or of hel.ping to unionize the office-fforkers of America. . Certainly in a Sodality worthy of the name many of [he' membe.rs will choose their life's work from ~apostolic motivesl if we religious~ lay open to, ,them the potentialities. And we ought to. be adept at doing this, seeing that many of us chose our own life work .on that score. Enough has been said t6 show the fir-reaching similarity in various ways. ,between the religious life and the way of life of a true Sodalisf. The Sodality is not, of course, a religious order or con- 176 ¯ ¯ BIBLES' gregation, not even,'a~Third .Order, "among other reasons because.all Sodalities, except for the small minority in Jesuit, houses, are u£det i~piscopal direction. The Sodality has always tal~en care. to make this point clear.' Yet the Sodality does ~losely parallelreligious br-ders in their novitiate,and vov~s.and rules, in the spi~iti~al exercises they practice, and even in part in .their apostolate. These parallels are something we religious can. well ponder and utilize, for they have an important meaning for us. ~ They mean that we cannot expect Sodalities to be the kind of Catholic Action forces the Pope wishes them to be Unless we demand observance of Sodality .rules almost asreligious are expected to keep their rules. The~i mean that if we make our Sodalitie's,hll.that they should be, we can to ~.large degree and in a workable way shareeven with zealous laymen and laywomen, boys and girls, the multiple graces and advantages of our ownreligious vocation. Many of the same tools that we use to advance toward sanctity and to draw others to Christ can be used too by.our zealous lay people, ifwe con~luct Sodalities ascording to the mind of Pius XII,and en~ourage such lay people to membership in those Sodalities. By fostering viggrous So-dalities we can share with lay persons something, of the "pearl of great price" that is our religious vocation. For tb be a religious and to be a Sodalist are parallel vocations. Bibles William M. Stritch, S.J. THE following rare .and, curious editions of _the Bible, mainly non,Catholic, a~e famous either for so_me eccentricity of their ¯ translation or for some remarkable feattire o~ their publication. The Aitken Bible. The first whole English Bible printed in the United States,. by Robert Aitken;0Philadelphia, in 1782, and at l~i~' own expense. HeIost about $3000.00 on his ~renture, owing to the ,number of copies imported from England shortly afterwards. The title page, six by three and a half inches, bore the coat of arms of the State'of Pennsylvania, and says ~he project w~as appr'oved (bu~tnot sul~sidiz.ed)' and recommended by .the U. S. Congress assembled 177 WILLIAM M. STR[TCH .: ~ ~ RetJieto September 12, 1782. This edition" of 'the King James known.hlsQ as the "Bible of th~ Revolution," is more rare than even the Gutenberg Bible,notmore.than twenty-fiv~ copies .being known to exist. The~Library of. Congress copy Was acquired in 1891 for $650.00. The Breeches Bible. )klthough Wyclif in 1380, and Wm.Cax-ton in 1483,rendered the word translated "aprons" in Gen. 3:7, by the word "breeches." it ~emained for the .16th century Geneva Bibles to' be called ."Breeches-" Bible.' They were printed in England for only forty-one years, yet proved so ~p0pular .that even today those wl~o make no preterise to be Bible collectorslike t6. boast thaLthey, possess a "Breeches" Bible. The "Breeches"~ Bible of 1560 was the ¯ first Bible in English to be divided'into verses. The 1594e~lition is famous for havi.ng, the date "1495" on the New" T.es~am~nt title page~ ,The ~Bu~,Bible. An English,translation of th~ Bible printed,in 1551 ?by.John Daye; and so called from the rendering of the verse in Ps. 91:5, '.'Thou shall¯ not"nede' to be afrayde' f9~ eny bugges by nyghte~" A Copy of this Bible is, or was, until the outbreak0f'w~ir in 193.9, i~n .the library of the town'of Sc~uthampton, Ehglarid. : The Carey Bible. To Mathew Carey (1760-1839) of Phila-delphia gqes the ho.nor of publishing for'the first time {n the United States: . THE HOLY BIBLE Translated from lthe Latin ¯Vulgate ¯ Diligently compared ~vith the Hebrew, Greek. and other editions in divers languages., a.nd first published by The English College at Doway, anno 1609 Newly. revised and "c~rrected, acco'rding to ,¯ The Clementine Edition of the .Scriptur~es with annotations 'for elucidating The principal difficultie~ of Holy Writ , (Title page of Cafey',s B~ble, ~Ph~ilad~lpl~ia, .publishedDec. ¯ . The Caxto~ Memorial Bible. In 18~77.~ fou~ hundredy~ars after ,the introdu.ction of printing int6 England, one ht)ndredcbpies.of this Bibl~ were printed and bound in.twelve, hours to celebrate th~ occa-sion.' . ~ ~ The Ears-to-Ear. Bible. So named because of.a m~isprint in an editic~n of 1810~ inwhich Matt. ~3:13 reads, ~'wh6 hath ears to bar let him hear.r' ¯ Also has "good w6rks" for. "dehd'works" iri St. Paul's."Epist.le to.the Hebrews, 9: 1'~. 178 Jul~ ~ 195~ " BIBLE~ " "The Geneoa'Bible. '~ t~anslation printed in 1560. It was the work of E, nglish Protestant refugees living in Geneva, whence its name. - The Great Bibl-e." Being the Bible."in largest volume."' It pos" sessed a title page of elaborate design, in which Henry VIII ~w.as de-picted as.handing 'Zthe word of God" $0 Archbishop Cranmer and other clergy on his right Band, and to Cromwell and various lay-peers on hi~ left. Thi~" Bible is'also known as the "Chained Bible," due to the fact that s~x of ther~ were "upon divers pillars in .(St.:) P~ul'~ chi~rch, fi~ed unto the same with chaihs for all men to read in them that would." A copy. of. this Bible,,on'vellum, is now St. John's College, Cambridge, Er~gl~nd, containing the.statement at the end that it was.';fynished in. Apryll, anno 1539." " The Indian B~'ble. Tbi~ is the first Bible.printed .in what is now the U. S. A., by 3ohn. Eliot, the Apostle tO the North American In- ¯ dians. ¯.The first Indian translation of the Bible was iia th~ dialect of the-Naticks, a Massachusetts trib.e .of the' Algonkins,. and was made under the auspices Of tile Corporatior; fcff the. Propagation of ~,the Gospels among the Indi~ng~of Ne~ En.gland. .The Nev) Testa-ment appe.ai.ed.first in 1661, and two years aftei, the entire Bible. Some Of the Indian words used by Eliot are so" extremely long that Cotton Mather thought they :must hhve been stretching .themselves ever since the confusion of the tongues at Babel. A second revised edition, wasoprinted in .16~5, only" twelve copies of which are know~n to exist. A copy.of the edition Of 1663.:sold some years, agc~ for $2,900.00. The Jefferson Bible. "This is a compilation made l~y~ Thomas Jefferson during'his first term as pre~idknt of the U.S.A, ~nd c~nsists of passages from the Four G0sp~ls cut out and'pasted in a book ac-cc~ rding tO a scheme of his own. Jefferson began the work in 1804', In 1895 the federal gox;ernment purchased this curious book from-. the Jefferson~heirs, and the original is n~w in the Natiohal Museum in'Washin~t0n. The Fifty-Seventh Cbngress (.190.1-03) issued a limited edition of'the Jefferson Bible to its members. The" Leda Bible. An edition published in 1572 and so called becaiase the decoration to the'initial at the Epistle to the Hebrews is a startling and i~congrubtis woodcut of Jupiter visiting Leda in the guise of a swan. The Gutenberg Bible, In 1930, by speciai ac~ of ~ongr, ess, the Library of Congress. purchased the Vollbehr collectign of 3,000 in-o -. ~ 179 WILLI'AM M. STRITCH Revieto ~or. Religious cunabula which included 6he of the three known perfect copies on xiellum Of the Gutenber'g Bible. The price p~id for the colledtion was $1,500,000. .The Bible itself was not. pri~ed, separately, but Dr. ~ollbehr paid $250,000 for it, which was increased by interest charges and an export' tax to a total in excess of.'$350,000, the hBiigbhlee'sst ppurbicliec aetvioern .p iasi hdo f~o rk an opwrinn,t endo rb coaonk .i tT bh'ee deexfaicnti tdealyte a ossfe trhteed that it.was.printed by Johann Gutenberg at Mainz. A copy of this Bible in the National Library of Paris. contains two manuscript dates, August 15, 1456, and August 24, 1456. It is therefore ap-' parenf that the Bible was printed before August, 14.56. Bibliogra-phers agree that Mairiz was the city.whekein it was p~oduced. The name of Johann Gutenberg, universally acknowledged as the success-ful inventor of the process of printing from movable metal type, ap-pears nowhere in the Bible, but we do-kno~¢ from available and con-temporary evidence that he Was deeply interested in it, and for' that reason this Bible is c6mmonly referred to as the Gutenberg Bible. Printed in a large .gothic type, the edition contains 641 printed leaves. The two other perfect,vellum ~opies are owned by the Brit-" ishoMuseum in London and the National Library in Paris. No one knows how many capies of this Bible were originally printed, but at lea~t forty-five ~opies of this Bible. of which twelve are vellum copies, are extant today. The beautifully printed and well' preserved copy in the Library of Congress is appraised at $1,,000,000 and is known as "the choice~ book in Christendom,." The Leese~ Bible, Although parts of the Hebrew scriptures had been preyiously translated into English for Jewisl~ use, the first com-plete English Old Testament for that purpose was translated by Isaac Leeser and published in 1853. Leeser fOllowed the style of the' King James Versioh, but made so many changes in the text thai his work is essentially a.n independent translation. This monumental work held its place in English and American synagogues until it be-gan to .be replaced by. the Jewish version of 1917. ,The Murderers Bible. An edition of 1801 in which the mis-print murderers for murmurers makes Jude 16 read "These are tour- .deters, full of complaints,, walking according to their own desires." ¯ ThePtacemakers Bible. An editionof the Geneva Bible, 1562, so called from a ,printer's error in Matt. 5 :9 "Bles~ed are the place-makers (peacemakers) fo~ they shall be called the children of God." The Printers Bible. An edition of about 1702 which makes Da-i80 BIBLE~ vid pathetically complain that "prin~ers (princes) havepersecuted me" (Ps. 119:161)'. The Rebecca's Cdmels Bible. Printed ii~ 1823 in which Gem -24:61 tells us that "Rebecca .arose. and her camels." instead of "her damsels." The Standing-Fishes Bible.Bible printed in 1806 in which Ezek. 47:10 reads "but it shall come to pass.that fishes (instead of fishers), shall s~and upon it,'; , ~Tbe Smith'Bible: .Julia Evelina Smith (179~2-1886) of, Glas-tonbury, Conn., transla'ted the Bible into English from .Latin, Greek, and'Hebrew, ~ind h~s be~n the only woman to translate the Bible in any language. She started the project when she Wfi's 77 years of age and cgmpleted it when 84. Her translat,on of the Bible was published in Hartford, Conn., in 1876, arid at her'own~expense. The To-Remain Bible. Bible printed at Cambridge, England, in 1805. Gal. 4:29 read.s,. "Persecuted hini that was born after the ~pirit to remain., even' so it is now." The words "to remain" weie added in error by the compositor, the editor having answered a proof-reader's queryas to the comma after "spirit" with the penciled reply "to remain" in the margin. The Thumb "Bible~ An edition published in Aberdeen, Scot-land. in 1693. It measured one inch square and half an inch thick, and was calle~ "Verbum Sempiternum." A Mr. J. W. Bradley, Halifax, Nova Scotia, has what he bMieves is the world's smallest Bible. Measuring only-5/8 of an inch square with 500 thin pages. It was printed by the Oxford Un.iversity Press in 1859. ~ The Treade Bible. An edition of the Bible published in 1568, and so ~alled from its" rendering of J~r.' 8:22, "Is there no treacle (instead of "balm").in Gilead?" The Unrighteous Bible. An edition printed at Cambridge, Eng-land, in 1653, containing the printer's error, "know ye not that the unrighteous shall inherit (for "shall not inherit")~ the Kingdom of ¯ God" (I Cor. 6:9). The same'edition, gave Rom. 6:13 as "n~ither yield ye your members as instruments of righteous unto sin," in place of "unrighteous." ." The Vinegar Bible. An edition printed at Oxford, E.ngland, in 17i7; in which the chapter heading of Luke 20 isgiven as~ "The Parable of the Vinegar/' instead of the "Vineyard;',' It was printed by J. Baskett; becauseof manyother errors it soon ca~e to be styled' WILLIAM M. STRITCH a basketful:of errors.". Copies of this edition are. very rare. Christ Chu.rch at Shrewsbury, New.dersey, is said to have one of the few° known copies i~n existence. "The Whom/Who "Bible. Both versions, Catholic and non- Catholic, admit that grammatical blundbr which for centuries bas rasped the nerves of sensitive purists, namely, . the questio~a of Our Lord, (Matt. 16:t3), "Whom do men say that .the Son of-man iS?" The revised (1881) American standard version and the Cath-olic Confraternity t)f Christian Doctrine version of 1941 rectify that error by making it "Who." In connection with the AmeriCan standard.version of 1881. it may be news to many of our readers to learn that the Chica9o Tribune published the whole version of the New Testamentdn a single special issue on May 22, 1881. The Woman's Bible. The idea appears to have been born in the mind of Elizabeth Cady Stanton. ¯ In a stout pamphlet, published in New York, 1897, the lady having appointed a tentative commit- .tee of twenty-three women, .instructed each member to purchase a Bible and go through it from Genesis .to Revelation, marking all' .the. passages, in which women were mentioned, these passages were then to. be cut out and pasted in a black book, and correct readings and " comments thereon written underneath. OUR CONTRIBUTORS SIST]~ M. BONAVENTURE, of the Sisters of St. Francis of Sylvania," Ohio, has been teaching graduate courses in Engl,ish at the Catholic University, Washing-ton, D.C.', for more, than a decade. NICH(~LAS H. RIEMAN, who has directed So-dalities as a Scholastic, is now' studying theQlogy at West Baden College, West Baden, Indiana. WILLIAM M. STRITCH writes from Campion High School, Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin. " ~ REPRINTS OF ~PONSA CHRISTI In May and July, 195 I, we p~inted the Apostblic Constitution, Sponsa Christi, and'the explanatory in'struction of the Sacred Congregation. of Religious. We now ha~e~some reprints of thi~ material that we can sell in sets' 6f ten and multiples of t.en., . The .price is one dollar for ten copies, and a dollar for each additional set, of ten. Please enclose payment with yohr order and address it to: REVIEW'FOR RELI- 61OUS, St.'. Mary's College,. St." Marys," Kansas: '." 1~2. Un ,"g e"n ,kDu si eFili us Pope Plus XI Apostolic Letter Addressed to the Suprem, e Heads of Religious Orders on the Care of Religious DisciplineI [.EDITOR'S NOTE: The ptirpose of this important document, in the wdrds of its author, Pope Pius XI, is: "to urge members of religious institutes, both those who are already priests and those who are candidates for the priesthood, to the study of the sacred learning, the absence of which would~ prevent them from performing with full competence the functions of their vocations." 'It is printed here at the request of a number of our subscribers. Though directed chiefly to religious clerics, the content, particularly the'sections indicating how sound theological learning can deepen the interior life, may also provide other religious with material for fruitful meditation. Sub-titles have been inserted.] BELOVED Sons: Health and Apostolic Benedictioia. The only-begotten Son of God, entering the world to re-deem mankind, was not content with imparting those sp[r.itual precepts the observance of which brings ~ill men to their:appointed .end. He ~eclared. also that those who wished to follow His foot-stbps more closely should embrace and practice~ the evangelical counsels. Whoever pledges himself by vow to observe these counsels strips himself not only of those encumbrances which retard our progress on the road to ordinary sanctity--riches, family cares, or immod-erate liberty in the.use of material things--but mox~es so directly and unreservedly towards a life of perfection as to seem almost to have attained'the haven of eternal salutation. ' ~. Wherefore from the earliest Christian era there have never been wanting souls who have harkened to the whisper of¯ God and, nobly and' generously denying themselves all things, have entered the way of perfection and indomitably persevered therein. Histor~ witnesses continuously to the sacred army of men and women who have con-secrated and pledged themselves to God in various religious Orders and congregations which, through the centuries, the Church has solemnly approved and ratified. ¯ N~r do these _religious communities bear the same unvarying spiritual character. The life of perfection, though in essence unchangeabie, inanifests itself in a variety of fruitful forms. In. 1AAS 16:133-48 (1924) ~ 183 POPE PIUS XI Review for 'Relioiofis separate and distinctive manners, with diversified exertions of charity and zeal'do the varidus orders Of religious S6uls, according to the ~pecial ways of theii'institutes, pursue th~ ~16ry of Gdd and the sal- . vati~n of their neighbor. . , From this wide diversity of. religious orders, as ~rom trees "of." manifold species in God's spiritual garden, springs a.gloriouslvariety of spiritual fruit unto the salutation of men. Such striking complex- " ity of fo~m with basic unity of design, such identity 'of aim v~ith precise distinction of spheres, presents a .spectacle of impressive and monumental ,beauty. It is a dispensation of Divine Providence that new needs of,the .times should call forth and nourish r~eligious congregations specially adapted to the meeting of these fresh exigencies. And so the Apostolid See. under whose standard religious orders pHr~arily serge, mindful of th~ blessings which at all times they have cbnferred upon. the Church and Upo, n civil society, h~as ever cherish[d these holy instkutes with peculiar solicitude and affectl0n. , The sti~reme pontiff has always rdserved tohimself the approvin~ and confirming their constitutions and statutes: he h~is in times of crisis tirel~ss'ly defended them from their' adversaiies: and'. when. occasion.so demanded, he has not been slow in rec~illing them-to their pristine.observanCe and to their original reverence for the glori-ous ideals 0f their respective rules. This great concern of the Church that religious men Should be pre-erfiinent in adherence to the holy laws of thei? order and that they should constantly increase in perfection, is manifested by the solemn decrees and exhortations of the Council of Trent. "Let all regulars, both men and'-women, mold and regulate their lives in keei~ing with.the iule fhey. profess; particularly let them faithfully -observe whatever pertains to the perfection of their professibn, the vows 0f poverty, chastity, and.obedience, and any others which may be peculiar to.their particular institute or ha~,e bearing ,on th~ ,ob-servance of common life, both in food and in clothing.''z ~ The Code of Canon Law, in its.preface to the section on regula-tions for religious men and women, b_r[efly describes and defines th~ religious life as'being ao"stable mode of. living in common by which ,the faithful, undertake, besides the ordinary precepts of the faith. ~he evangelicalcou~asels through the'instrumentality ~of the yows of obedience, chas~ity~, and poverty . . . and thus proceed in the way,of ZSess. XXV. c. I". De Reoul. i84 July, 1952 UNIGENITUS e~angdical perfection." Thi~ religious state, declares the Code dis-tirictlE, is: to be ."esteemed highly by all."3 Tb extent indeed of Our ~onfidence in the virtue ~f religiou's men, and in their helpful co-operation, We ha~e-already demon-strated in Our .encyclical letter Ubi Arcano, affectionately addressed tO the bishops of the Catholic world'. We ~said therein, that for,more. than one reason we relied ~r,eatly. on the regular clergy acthally:t.o apply the remedies We bad proposed to meet the many evils under which human society was laboring. ¯ Further, in Our former letter on the supervision of .clericfil studies, addressed to the Cardinal Prefect of the Sacred Congregation for Studies in Seminaries and Universities, in the identical embrace of Our purpose and~in Our deep solicitude to proyide for the training of clerics called to the sacred ministry, We included_equ~liy as~well' member~ of religiou~ orders, since what we ¯therein observ.e.d and decr~ed affectedthem in great measure too. at least such as are destined, for. the priesthood. Nevertheless, We are urged, dearly beloved sons. ,by Our loving and vigilant concern for your goo.d, to address, you byspeCial letter and to present certain admonitions to you which if your spiJ:itual sons will but observein their conduct and intercourse.thei'r pro-- -cedure and the whole tenor of,their lives will undoubtedly be such as is impera(ively demanded of them by. the truly unique and ~sub- -lime voc~ition.¯really divine, which is theirs. Revet:ence for Fot~nder First of all. We exhort religious men to ~'egard the founder of ~their order.as the supreme example to befollowed. The "religious who so regards the father" and lawgiver of his institute, will .more certainly and more abundantly partic'ipate in the divine grace deriv, ing from a religious vocatiofi. It is-abundantly clear that those men of" pre-eminent sanctity, When they established their religious congregations, obeyed a divine impulse. As long, therefore, as the son reproduces in his life °the special mode of sahctity conceived by th~ father as the distinctive mark 8f the congregation, the son will not be recreant to the obliga-tion'assumed whefi he entered religioh. Wherefore let religious men. as devoted sons, dire~t their thought and care to defend, the honor of their founder and father both by obedience, to hi~ .pre.s~'riptions and admonitions, and by imb,fing 31C 487[ 488 POPE~ PlUS Reoiew [or Religious themselves with his spirit. Nor will they. fall from their estate as long as they walk in the footsteps of their founders: "And their-children for their .sakes remain forever. Would that religious would so loyally adber,e to the rules of their institute and so retain the manner, of life established, that ithey would show themselves ever.y day more worthy of the religious state. Such fidelity cannot fail to win for the manifold ministries which they exercise' at all times the powerful support of heavenly graces. In all our activities let us seek only the kingdom of God and His justice: and this should be the sole objective in those works which, beloved son~, are wont to occupy the efforts Of most of your spit, itual subjects: sacred missions, and, the. education of youth. As for " the,apost.olate,-.let them take care thai in their'foreign missions, as My predecessor wisely admonishes,s they do not employ ~he Gospel to further the interests of their country or to increase its ppwer. Let them r~ither !ook'only to the eternal salvation of the infidels, while at the same time. elevating their material standards of living to the extent that this may fo[ward their progress to eternal happiness. Those religious whose duty it is rightly to instruct and educate youth-must be especially careful lest, too much preoccupied with training theik students to excellence in fine arts, they so neglect the religious development of their minds and hearts that their students enter the world wellZinstructed indeed in letters, but totally ignorant of sacred, science. LWhoever lac,,ks this is deprived of themost precious and most beautiful of all adornments and. lives in the greatest empti-~ hess of soul: "All men are vain, in whom there is not the knowledge of God.''6 The Seraphic Doctor speaks appositely in this .regard: "This is the fruit of learning, that faith should be built up in all men, tha.t God should be honored, morals elevated, and those conso-lations derived which/pring from the union of the beloved with. her divine.SpouSe through supernatural dharity.''z I. BENEFITS OF SACRED LEARNING Since it is of the highest importance that this knowledge of sacred science should be held in the greatest esteem and deeply imbibed by the mihisters of the Church, the chief concern, of this Our exhorta-tion is tO urge members of. religious institutes, both those'who are 4Ecclesiasticus 44 : 1 "~ 5Epist." Apost. Maximum Iliad, November 30, 1919 6Wisdom 13:1 7De Reductione Atrium ad Theol., n. 26 186 Ju/g, 1952 UNIGENITU~' already" priests and those Who are candidates for the priesthood, to the study of the sacredlearning, the absence of which would pre-vent them. from performing with full competence the functions of their vocation. For those who have conseciated themselves to God the one, or certainly the chief, obligation is that of prayer and the contemplation or meditation on divine things. How can they rightly fulfill tlqis solemn duty without, a profound and intimate compre- _hension of ~h~ doctrine of faith?. The necessity of such study'We 'urge on those pa~iicul~rly who devo'te their lives to divine contem-plation in the cloister. Such souls ~rr indeed if they believe that after having previously, neglected or later discontinued their theological "studies, the$ can, though deprived of that copious kn.owledge 9f God and the mysteries of faith which is derived from the sacred sciences, readily move in a high spiritual plane and be'lifted up and borne. aloft to interior union with God. 'Help in Apostolate As to those who are engaged in teaching or preaching or in the cleansing of souls in the sacrameht of penance, or are sent on sacred missions or pursue tti~ir ministry in daily familiar intercourse with people, shall not .the vigor and efficacy, of these manifold activities be in exact' proportion to the high degree of erudition" with .which they are perfected, and adorned? The Holy Spirit, too, the Paraclete, by.the lips of His prophet, has proclaimed the priest's n~ed of a comprehensive and in~imatel knowledge of sacred science: "The lips of the priest shall keep knowledge.''s How can solid theological learning be lacking in the legate of the Lord of wisdom,9 that legate who is minister and doctor of the New ;F~stament, ~alt of the earth,~° and light.of the-world,n the legate .by whose tongue the Christian people recei;ce the words of eternal life? " Let those trembl~ for themselves, therefore, who approach the sacred ministry with minds ill-equipped with holy learning:. Not unscathed shall they stand in their lack of preparation, before Lord, who has spoken the awful threat: "Because thou hast rejected. kn6wledge, I will reject thee, that thou shalt not do the office of pi'iesthogd to Me.;'~2 Moreover,.if ever in the past it behooved the 8Malachias 2 : 7 9I Kings 2 : 3 l°Matthexv 5 : 1 3 ~20see 4 : 6 187. POPE PIUS XI - " ' \ Rebietu For Religious ¯ priest to be adorned with le.arning, much more so is thai .quahty required of hin~ in thes~igresent times when in,.all spheres of human activity learning arid science are valued at such high ,price and are so closely bound" therewith that men, even thuse who are less wise-- as.is almostalwi~ys the case boast that whatever they do, the3/do in [he hattie of science:. So. let us strive with intense earnestness that the Catbolic /aith be sustained b.y the support and protection of human learning of every kind. In the light which thislearning casts th~ beauty of revealed truth will .be Unfolded before ~he eyes of, all and tile falsity of the ¯ captious chaYges ~vhidh pseudo-science is wont .to heap up against the ¯ ~dogmas i~f faith will be exposed as. occasion may requite. ' For. as'Te~tulliamhas so beautifully written: our faith "anxious-ly desires one, thirig.only, that she benot condemned unheard.''u In the same connection, let .us not forget the "words of Jerome: "Piety Without culture profits itself alone, find, however much by personal merit it builds up Christ's church, it yet equally harms her by silence in the faceof her adversaries . ~. It is the priest's duty, to answer whenever ~he law is calleqdue isnti o.n. -, And so the priest, "both secular and regular, must. propagate Catholic doctrine as widely as possible, and illuminate and defend it. This,doctrine of the Church not only contains all that is needed to" refute and disprove any objections which may b.e ¯urged against it, but., ~rovided it be,clear_Iv, explained, cannot fail to draw~ souls to " itself, if only they" be free from p, rejudice. This truth'was not missed by the great doctors ~Sf,the so-called Middle Ages. Led by Thdmas Aquinfis and Bonaventure they exerted themselves to, drink as defiply as possible of the waters'of divine wisdom and go comm,unica,te their knowledge to others. ' - Help for Interior Life There is, beloved sons, the furthe~ advantage that the v~y effort of mind and talent and powers which you~ members will expend in the pursuit Of.}hese studies will effect that they will imbibe the reli-gio, us. spirit more deeply and-will fittingly sustainthe honor and digni.ty of the exalted state of life Which they have embraced. For h~e who ~nters upon the study of theology addresses himself to a weig,.hty task indeed; and one invoIving, intense labor and'heavyin,- convenience. It is a task admitting no slothfulness or laziness, which ~3Apol., I . l~Epist, ad Paul.in,. LIII- (al. CIII) , 188 July, 1952 . UNIGENITUS is the mother and mistress of many evils.15 But the earnest student, applying,himself wholeheartedly to this truly hard intellectual labo} acquires the habi~ not onlyofcirc~umspection in ju~gmeht and' delib-eration in act, but repres~ses also and 'dominafes more easily hi~ pas-sions wh'ich, .if allowed loose rein,' grow steadily Wors~ and hu}ry the s.oul tothe abyss of all vices. In this iegard Jerome writes: "Love the scienc~ of Holy Scrip'ture and y~u will. not love the vices of the flesh.':16 And again~: "The knowledge of the S~,riptur~s begets virgins. 17 But the religious man shouldbe urged to these studies by a fur-t- her motive the.re~li.zation of the gra~city .of the obligation, arising from his very vo~atioi~, of achieving a' perfect degree of virtue. It is clearly imt3ossible for anyone to progress efficaciously toward perfec-tion and to reach it safely without practicidg the interior life. But can this interior life be developed and strengthened by an.y more effectiv~ means than the study of-things divine? ~Persistent and daily meditation on those marvelous gifts of nature and of grace and on ~individual men will cohsecrate one's thbugh~ts and feelings, and lift them. up to heavenly things; .nay more, it fills men With the spirit of faith and unites them in closest intimacy, with God. For, who reproduces in himself more perfectly the image of Christ, 2esus than he who ass~rnilates to his v.ery.flesh and blood the dog,matic and moral truths of divine revelation.?. 'Most wisely,, then, did the founders" of religious °orders. fol-lowing the lead of the Fathers and Doctors of the Church, ~ommend with more than ordinary earnestness to their sons the .study of the sacred sciences, o It has. bdsides, been proved by experience, beloved, sons, that those of your religious who most devotedly have'-applied their intellects to the study of the teachings of the faith, have as a rule been all the more successful in achieving a higher and more com-prehensive degree of sanctity; whil(on the contrary,.those who have neglected this sacred duty have often lfipsed into tepidi'ty and have sunk not infrequently into a condition of spiritual deterioration in- 'volving even the violati6n of their vowS. Wherefore, let all religious remember the words of Richard of St.Victor: "Would that each of us Would immerse himself in these studies all the day long until" the sun set, until the love of vain things graduallygrow weak. until the heat of concupiscence be extinguished and the Wisdom of~carnal pru- ¯ lSEcclesiasticus 3 3 : 2 9 ~6Epist. ad Rust. CXXV. (al. IV) ~TComm. ~fi Zach, ].II, c. l O 189 ¯ POPE PIUS XI : Revleu2 for Reliflious ~d~nce grow cold.''~s .We exhort religious men also to make their own .the prayer of St. Augustine: "May Thy Scriptures be mY ,chaste delight" may I not err in them, nor deceive because of them.''19 II. DIRECTIVES FOR TRAINING.OF CLERICS Since, then, the constant and attentive pursuit of sacred doctrine brings such rich emoli~ments tb religious men, it,is clear, beloved sons, how weighty, is your obligation to provide for your subjects every opportunity for theological study and' for continued contact, with theological science, at every subsequent stage of their religious life. We must realize, moreover, how much future, candidates for religion are benefited by a proper formation and training of their mind and will from their earliest years. In the first place, in these courupt times Christian education is sadly neglected, in the home ~nd the young, exposed to widely prevalent snares of evil, are deprived of , that solid religious instruction which alone has power to mold char-acter in conformity with the divine commandments or even with a .humanly decent.mod~ of life. It follows, therefore, that yqu can take no more advaptageous measure in this regard than the establish-ment of preparatory seminaries and c011~ges for yourig men who give some indication of possessing a religious vocation. We observe with deep satisfaction that in a goodly n, umber of places such insti'tutions are in fact being founded. In this matter, however, you are,to take to heart the admonition.addressed by Ou'r predeces~sor, 'Pius X, of 'holy memory, to the superiors of the Dominican Order. The Pontiff warne'd against admitting too readily, or ifi too great numbers youths whose aspirations after that hol'y manner c;f life are not certainly i~- spired from on high.-,° After having given long and prudent consid7 eration therefore to the selection of young men as candidates for the religious life, ~ou "will take great care that, along with instruction in piety suited to their years, those lower subjects be taught them which are usually taught in the q~mnasia,~'I so that'they do not enter the ¯ novitiate before they have finishe'd the humanities, unless indeed a sufficiently, sound reason advises otherwise in a particular instance. It is an obligation not only of charity but even of justice that you should display the utmost assiduity and diligence in this matter¯ of the education of your young candidates. If by reason of the small 18De ditT. sacrif. Abr. et Mariae, I 19Conf., lib. XI, c. 2, n. 5 20EpiSt. Cure Primum, ad Mag. Gem O.P., August 41 1913 ~1IC 589 190 dulg~ 1952 UNIGENI ,TUS: number of members in an institute, br for other reasons, a province¯ has insufficient facilities fo} imparting this education prescribed by canon law, let the young men be sent¯ to anothe~ province or to another seat of learning where they can be properly taught according to the directions of canon 587. Preparator~l Schools In i'he lower ~chools, however, let the injunction of canon 136~4 " be religiously followed: ':The most honored place in the curriculum is to .be awarded to religious instruction, diligently imparted in a manner suitable to the ability and age of each one." For this instruc-tion, furthermore, only those books are to be used which are approved by the ordinary. It is to be remarked incidentally ~hat even students of scholastic philosophy should not omit this study of Christian doc-trine. They will most profitably use that golden book, the Roman Catechism, a work in which one is at a loss which to admire more, the wealth of sound doctrine or the elegance bf the Latin style. If your clerics, from tbeir earliest youth, accustom themselves to draw their knowledge of sacred truth from that fount, they will not. 9nly come to theology better prepared, but also, .from familiarity with ¯ that "excellent book they will learn how to teach the peopl,e wisely and to combat with skill the lie~ which are wont to be chattered against revealed truth. , , Those iniunctions which, in Our Apostolic Letter Ot~ciorum Ornnium, We addressed to the diligent attention Of the Catholic bishops concerning study.of the Latin tongue, We urge and co.mmand youalso, beloved sons, to observe in your literary schools; for to you also pertains that law of the Code which, concerning students pre-paring for holy orders, says: "Let them be carefully taught languages~ particularly. Latin and their native tongue.''22 The high imp.ortance bt~ an accurate knowledge of Latin in your young religious is sug-gested by a multitude of reasons. Not only does the Church.employ that lang.uage as a servant and bond of unity; but we also iead the .Bible in Latin, we chant and offer the Holy Sacrifice in Latin, and we perform.in .that tongu~ nearly all ttie sficred rites. The Roman Pontiff, besides, addresses and teaches the Catholic world in' Latin, and the Roman Curia employs no other tongue in ,tra6sacti~g its business and in formulating decrees which apply to all the faitht~ul. He who is n~t well 'versed. iri Latin is much embarrassed in his ap- 2alC 1364, 2° 191 POPE PlUS XI Review for Relig~ous, proach to,~thos( rich v61ume~ of the Cht~rch's Fathers: and Doctors, many of whom used no' Other medium of expression in explaining '.and defending Christian.dbctrine. -Let it then.be your earnest aim that your clerics, destined for ".the .future ministry of the Church, shall attain a real:mastery of'and a very practica!.familiarity with that language. Novitiates " ¯ Their p~ri~paratory studies concluded, the students and all.c~andi-dates, whose determination to consecrate themsel~ces "to Godhas been proved and whose good character, more than mediocre mental gifts, spirit of piety; and integrity of morals have been established to the satisfaction of their dffectors, may be admitted to the novitiate. I~ th.e"'no~ritia~e, as in a sort of training ground, they shall, learn .by actual practice the principles and virtues of the religious life. How impc~rtant it is that.the souls:of the candidates should be " mos~ carefully trained during-this period of n6vitiate may be learned. not only from the testimony of masters of the religious life. but "most of all from experience. This latter teaches that no' one reaches and maintains'himself in a state of religiou~ perfecti0n~unless he has first laid in his soul the foundations ofall the virtues. Wherefore let the novices, eschewing all profane studies and othe~ attractions. concentrate entirely, under th'e guidance of their directors, 6n the exercises of theinterio.r life and the acquisition, of virtues, tfiose par-ticula. rly .which are most intimately connected and associated with the vqws Of religion poverty, obedience, and chastity. "Extremely helpful to this end will be the reading arid considera-tion of the Writings of St. Bernard, of ,the Seraphic Doctor Bona-ventuie, and of Alphonsus Rodrigud-z, as well as.~of those spiritual masters who are the special ornaments of each particular institute. Time has dot only failed to dim or lessen the, force and e~cacy of these teachers~ but has even heightened their Val~e in this our day. Nor should the novice ever forget that such as h~. is in the novitiate. so shall he be during the rest of his hfe: and after a tepid, or misspent noviceship the possibility of,supplying for what has been missed in the novitiate by renovation of spirit is usually~a forldrn and base-less hope. Philosophy and Theology . ~ Thereupon you shotild see to it, beloved sons, that your subjects. after.completing their noviceship, be ass!gne.d to houses distinguished 192 ,Iu!q. 1952 UNI~ENITU$ for ~obs~'r~ahce of your' holy ~ules. Tl~ese houses should offer also° facilines for the most profitable and exact course of philosophy and theology, made" in accordance, with definite and ordered procedure. Definite and or'tiered procedure, ~Ve said: that' is, not only should there be no promotion to a. higher grade without sufficient evidence of p~oficiency in the lower, but there must not even be any~¢u.rtail-ment or~omission of any part of.a course, nor any abbreviation of the t~ime t6 be devoted to a branch of study, as prescribed by the ,Code. Unwise, thereforev--to speak conservat.ively are those superiors who," pressed perhaps by time and necessity and desirous of availing themselves of their subjects' ministries as soon as possible, wish their subjects to receive their trai.ni~g for the priesthood by a sort .of accelerated method. Has not experience proved that those who h.av.e made their studies hurriedly and wittioiat thoroughness c~n scarcely .ever, if at' all, remedy this defect in their training, and that whatever little ,advantage may at timCs have been gained from this advanced reception of orders eventually fades away and vanishes, since these religious must of ne~cessity be less .apt for t~ ministry? Take care. moreover, lesf your youiag religious, .while studying philosqpfiy and theology, should grow yold in their struggle for virtue. On the con-" trary they should continue to a~rail themselves of the services of the most learned masters of the spiritual .life, so that finally, as behooves religious men, they shall display in themselves solid, learning joined to holiness of life.- And here We cha.rge you with special earnestness to exercise care in selecting eminen.tly suitable instructorsin the higher studies, mas-ters who~elife will be wo~rthy models for the imitation of all. Their proficiency, too, must be pre-eminent .in that subject which it is their office to teachl And~so, no one'should act either as.professor.,or instructor unless he has completed with merit the course of philos-ophy, theology, and allied branches, and has proved his possession of sufficient equipment and skill as a teacher. We .c.all your attentionfurthermore, to this injunctioh of the Code of Canon Law: "Provision must be made th'at there be separate masters for at least the following subjects: Sacred "Scripture, dogmatic theology, moral theology, and ecclesiastical history,"~ These m~is- "ters should spare no effof~ to'ffansform, th,eir sthdents into holy and tireless apostles of Ch. rist, equipped with those ornaments of learnirig 1,93 POPE P~usXI Reuieu~ for R~ligious and prtidence by" which they Will b~ abl4 not only"to instruct the simple and ignorant, but also to refute those, puffed up by what. is fallaciously called science. They will. be able likewise to preserve' all. from the contagion of error which, because it usually is presented so speciously and cunningly, is calculated to beget and inflict greater damage on souls. . But if happily, by God's grace, your subjects p.roceed wi'th gen-erous spirit in the straight paths of Christian learning and become greatly proficient therein, the labor which you best6w,-beloved sons, on this so salutary task will reward and rejoice .you with a most abundant fruit beyond .your. fondest expectations. ¯ Further, We exhort you to regard as holy and inviolable those words which, in accord with the spirit of canon law, We wrote in Our'apostolic letter on seminaries and the studies of clerics. Therein We urged that, in teaching the precepts of 15hilosophy and theology, masters should follow faitl~fully the scholastic methdd according tO the principles and doctrines of Aquinas. For who ~an deny that the scholastic discipline and the angelic wisdom of St. Thomas--that discipline and method praised so repeatedly and enthusiastically by Our predecessors--have a native efficacy both f6r tl'Je illustration of divin~-truth and for the marvelous refutation 6f the errors of every age? In the words of Our predecessor of immortal memory, Leo XIII, the Angelic Doctor "so abundantly rich in divine and huma.n science, so comparable to the very sun . has by his sole efforts brought it hbout that all the errors of past ages have been refuted by one man, and invincible alms have beeh supplied for the defeat of th.ose errors which will arise in endless succession through the ages.''2a Most a'ppositely contintJes the same Pontiff: '"Let those who Wish to be truly philosophers~and such must be the. especial desire of religious men--let those l~ay the first principles and foundations of their doc-trine in Thomas Aquinas.''25 How much it behooves your spiritual sons to hew close to the . general line of scholastic doctrine is abundantly evident. Perceiving the intimate relationship existing between philosophy and revelation, the Scholastics-d, eveloped and synthesized that wonderful mutual concordance, in such wise that philosophy and revelation afford each other light and the maximum of support." Nor can these two s.ci- 24En~ycl. Aeterni Patris 25Epist. Nbstra Erga, N6vember 25, 1898 194 ,Iulg, 1952 UNIGENITUS ences contradiqt each oth'er, as some madly assert, for both derive from God, the suprem'e and eternal truth; and while philosophy manifests the findings o'f reason, re~elation displays the firm data of faith. Indeed the two sciences are so mutually in harmony that each c.ompletes the other. Hence it follows that from an ignorafit and untrained philosopher a learned theologian can never be educed: and, contrariwise, he w~o is igno.r~ant of divine truth can never be a per-fect phil.osopher. In this regard St. Thomas says truly: "From the principles of faith .new knowledge is derived for the faithful, as from.the prin-ciples of natural reason new knowledge is derived for all; hence theology is a science." In other words, just as from reason, which is a participation in divine Wisdom, philosophy derives'the basic prin-ciples of nattiral cognition, and declares and ex.plains them, so from, the light of supernaturaI revelation,, which by its splendor" illumines and completes t, he intellect, theology borrows, develops, and explains the truths of faith. These two sciences are two rays f~om the same sun, two rivers from the same source, two edifices resting,on the same foundation. Of high dignity indeed is human science, provided it submits obediently to the truths of faith. If these truths are disregarded, human science must i,nevltably ~nd inexorably fall into numberless errors and deceits. But if, beloved sons, your subjects command the sum of human knowledge which they have beap'ed up for tbem~elg.qs to'act as handmaid and servant to that science which is divine; and if~ besides~ they glo,w with an arderit love and desire for revealed truth, they will be true men of God and will be .universally regarded as such; and'by word and example, they will.do much fo'r the peop!e ~of God. For, "'all Scripture is inspired by God"--or as the Angelic Doctor explains this passage( sacred doctrinal is perceived by the light .of divine revelation--"and useful for teaching, for reprovifig, for. correcting, for instructing in justice; that the man of God ma) be perfect, equipped for every good work.''26 Spirit of Faith .But in the ,case of young religious, the first {equirement is that 'their spirit of faith should be" nourished to vigor. Otherwise.they, shall to no avail engage themselves in this boundless field of divine and. human .knowledge: for, if the spirit of faitb is weak, the stu- 262 Timothy 3 : 16-17 ¯ PoPE PIU~ XI Review fbr Relipious dent,"like one. blind, cannot penetrat~e into the. profun, dities'.pf .super-na~ ural truths. Nor is itof less importance'that the religious shpuld albproach °his studies with a,pure intention. -"There are some Who wish to 2~arn,'~ warns St. Bernard, ".solely .in order to l(arn; and ~his is base curiosity . There are o~her~ who wish to learn in order to sell their knowledge, perhaps for money, perhaps for honors: and. this is ba~e t~affic. But there are also those who wi~h tO learn in order that'they themselves m~y.be buildedl and this, is prudence,''27 In their above-mentioned studies, therefore, your young religious should propose to. themselves this one aim: that they "please God and, . win for themselves "and for their r~eigbbor the. greatest, pbssible spir-itual emoluments. And in science disjoin, ed from virtue there is more of offense and danger than of true utility for those who b~come proud by reason of their learning lose the gift of faith and blindly plunge headlong t° their souls' destruction--your sons must with all .assiduity cultivate the virtue of humility,, necessary f0~ all indeed~ ' but especially to bestriven after by students: and ~they must plant it firmly.in their hearts mindful as they are that God alone is sub- ~tantial wisdom and whatever man possesses, no matter, how.pro-found, is .as nothing compared with the vast sum of learning of which he is ignorant. Beautifully to the point speaks St Augustine: '" 'Knowledge,' says the'Apostle, 'puffeth up.' What then? SbSuld you flee knowl-edge and ch6os~ to know nothing rather than to be puffed up? Why should I address you i~ it is better.to b'e ignorant than learned? Love knowledge', but prefer charity. Knowledge, if it, be alone. "puffeth up. But because charity~buildeth up, it permits no( knowl-edge to be puffed up. Knowledge puffeth, up therefore where cbarity-do~ s not build up; where charity bu!IdL yp, knowledge is made Your sons, therefore, if indeed'they pursue their' studies with: that spirit 0f~charity and devotion frbm which all other virtu'es have their Origin and b~ing, would be like a medicinal fragrance warding. off ,the fear" of corruption: and by. their gifts of doctrine will ~ c~r.tainly becbme all the more pleasing in God's sight'and all the more useful toHis Church. " ¯ III. DI~RECTIV~S FOR 'LAY RELIGIOUS~ it now remains for us to turn our thoughts to those" religious ~7In Cant. serrao XXXVI~, ~Sermb CCCLIV ad Cont., c. ~I _duly, 1957. . UNIGENITUS who,ltl~ough not called to.the dignityof the priesthood, have pro-nounced, the same vows, of r~l.igion as the priests, and are .not less obliged to God ahd bound by the duty of acquiring perfection. That they .also, though unversed in letters or the higher mental disciplines, may achieve the loftiest grades of sanctity i~ evident from',the fact. that many of them indeed have won by reason of the eminent holi-ness' of.their lives the loud.and, constant praise of the Catholic world, or have even been" inscr!bed.by the authority of the Roma~ Pontiffs in .the number of the saint~, to be regarded and invoked as patrons. and intercessors before God. These con~ersi, or lay,, religious, "who, because 6f their special status are free from those da'ngers which not infrequently :'fac~ the priest 15y reason of the very dignity of his office, enjQy substantially the same spiritual privileges and aids which religious institutes with mater~al:providence commonly share indiscrimina~tely .with itheir ~hildren. It .is just. thin, that the lay religious should value highly- ¯,the gift of their vocation, and return thanks to God for the gift. often renewing the determinatiQn which they made on the d~y'of ~:heir ~orofession. that they would live.according to the spirit of their reli- . gious bule to their last bre~ith of life. And here., beloved-sons, We cannot refrain from remindilag you how weighty is youy obligation to see to it thatthe !ay.religiotis, both" during the time of their probation and during the remainder of their -life, are adeqtiatels~.:supplied With those spiritual hell~whlch~th£y. so much need to make progress and to persevere. They are perhaps all the haore in need of these aids by.reaSon c;ftheir humble eondition.hnd hurfibl~ ministries. " ~Vherefor , .superiors, in selecting the.dwelling places and duties " of the la~y religious, should take careful account of the character of each and the possible weaknesses of each;.and if'sometimesthese spir-itual sons should show a decrease of ardor in the'performance of their 'obliga~tions.as religious, no paternal solicitude and effort should be sl~afed in recalling them g~ntly but firmly to holin.ess, of life: And particularly should superiors make it their constant concern either themselves to instruct the lay religious in the eternal and fun-damental truths ofthe faith, or to commit this.duty of instrtic~ion to ~competent priests. The knowledge and frequent meditation off these truths will be a powerful spur to th~ virtue of all, whether those whose,work is confined to the cloister or thos who live in tl~e world. The,above admonitions We wish to extend also to all ,congrega- 197 t .POPE PlUS XI tlons Of lay religious. For. t-he'members of these congregations there is indeed ~required .a fuller 2knowl~dg~ Of Chri_stian doctrine and an~ erudition beyond mediocrity, since theY are. frequently .engaged, according to their institute, in the instruction of boys and young men. Such are the thbughts, beloved sons~ which We desired from a heart filled with phternal~ love to address to you concerning the direc-tion of your curricula of study, as well as concerning some other matters of scarcely, lesg importance. These thoughts and injunctions, We.feel sure, you will follow with alacrity and devotion, both be-cause of your affection to'cards Us and because of your zeal for the advancement of your respective institutes. May Our words be fixed deep in the hearts of your novices and scholastics, and bring, by the intercession of your founders and fathers, an abundance of blessings and benefits. In conclusion, as an augury of grace and an evidence of Our. paternal love towffrd .yoursel;ces, beloxied sons,, and all tl-ie religious commit}ed to your charge~ We bestow upon eacl~ and all of you, with the deepgst affection, Our ApoStolic Benediction. '" Giveri at Rome, ih St~ ¯Peter's, the nineteenth day of March, on the Feast of. St. Joseph, spouse' of the Virgin .Mary Mother of God, in the year 1924, the third of of Our pohtificate. Pius PP.XI . BOOKS FOR PRIESTS Two re~ent books of help for priests are THE PEOPLE'S [SRIEST, by' John C, Heenan, and PRIESTLY BEATITUDES, by Max Kassiepe, O.M.[., translated by A. Simon, .O.M.I. Both authors, the former who is now Bishop of Leeds in England, and the latter, an experienced ,German missionary, chaplain, and superior, know what they are talking about. The Peotgle's Priest, written for diocesan priests by one of them, is full of-practical, common sense, pastoral guidance, that is inspired throughout by an enlightened appreciation of the beautiful relationship that exists between the good i~riest.and his peo~ple. (New. Y0rk: Shoed ~ Ward, 1952, Pp. xi q- 24'3. $2.75.) Priestly Beatitudes contains twenty-two sermons.for a priest's retreat. In general, the talks follow the usual development according-to The Soiritual Exercises of St. lynatius with the merit of a constant advertence and application to a priest's life. The ring of authenticity is unmist'akable. (St. Louis: B. Herder Book Co., 1952. ,Pp. v + 393.S5.00.) '. FOR oRGANISTS AND CHOIRMA~s'rERs Father \Vinfrid Herbs.t, S.D.S. has helpfully 'got,herod together in a convenient booklet answers to many questions that often confront church musicians. This pamphlet, lnformdtion /'or Organists and Cboirmdsters, can be obtained from the Salvatnrian Fathers,' St. Nazianz, Wisconsin. Let:i:er !:o a Mas!:er-ol: Novices. L. Ganganelli [ED1TOI~'S NOTE[ This letter is said to have'been written by Fra Lorenzo Ganga-nelli, who late.r .became Pope Clement XIV, to a ,Jesuit in England 4¢ho had been .a former student. We cannot guarantee the authorship, but-the content of the letter is of value to every one.] Reverend Father, The office that you discharge requires as much gentleness as firm-ness. You must bear in mind that although a religious should be .circumspect in his demeanor, yet you cannot expect the same gravity from a young man as from. his elders. Ttie special gift of a nbvice master ~ons]sts in bei'ng able to recogni.ze the source from which.his novices' shortcomings proceed, in order to humble them if they are due to pride, to stimulate them if they arise from indolence,, to mor-tify .them if they p.roceed from sensuality, to check them if they spring*from impatiense. You must see .that your.young men are always .occupied. Besides .fixing their minds and restraining their imaginations, emploYment brings out their talents. In the case of-some, these develop slowly, but with a little patience and insight it is not hard to tell whether the cloud will be pierced at length by the sunbeams.o~ is.doomed to remain dark forever. If you suffer yourself to be carried away by a zealthat is wanting in sweetness, .you-may someday or other dismiss those who" would have been th~ glory of your order. '.They who have most ability are often those who have the most impulsive dispositions, and if one is not,sufficiently master of himself, it may, happen that certain, little sallies of humor, which are nothing more than mere bits of levity, will ruin a young man forever, by causing him t'o be excluded from a state of life where he would have rendered important services to ~b~ Church. ~ Take special care not to observe the same method of direction for all. Onemay need a sharp rebuke, for another a mere glance is enough.Let your silence itself speak, and you will seldom be obliged to give a reprimand. The young almost always imagine that ;t is throtigh ill-humor or the desire to scold that they are constantly receiving admonitions, and often they are not mistaken. Watch carefully, bat without allowing it to be perceived, To betray an appearance of mistrust fosters a spirit of deceit and un- 199 L. GANGANELLI _r o R~view for R¢liqiot~s ~ruthfuln~s. A tone of friendship soothes a ~6vice's feelings, whilst an air ofseverity wounds and irritates him. Scarcely ever~allow a fault to pass unpunished when it goes directly against the religious s~irit, a~n~l give particular heed to whafever offends against, inorality, Purity belorigs to.all Christians. but it is required of priests and reli-gious abo~e all'. You must make a distinction between a fault cord-mitted on the sp.urt. of the moment and a habitual defect. Remember that true virtue is not harsh and that .a smiling countenance inspires~cgnfidence. A cold and severe exterior, ~Imost alx~ays re~els, because, it bears the appearance of pride. ~nusDt ob en owti speu sWh iptheirnf etchtei omne taosou rfeh ro.f f doirs mcreetni oanr.e Ontohte .r~wnigseel tsh, ea nydo u~nogu' will conceive an.aversion, for you. and will weary¯ of piety itself. It is: not the repetition of precepts wh!ch makes novices improve. One ¯ migh~ preach all day long without-accomplishing anything if-prin-ciples are,not inculcated. When the~mind is convinced by reasoning that tl~ere necessarily exists a God. and hence a religion, and that' the. only true one is that which we profess, it does not allow itself to be dhzzled by sophistry; if sin is committed, it is with the conscious-ness of doing wrong. Do~ away with the system of, spying, as a public nuisance. It accustoms people to play the part of hypocrites and false friends. Do not allow yourself to conceive a prejudice against anyone. It' is thr~ugh.such ,prejudices that the innocent are every day. persecuted, -whilst the guil.ty triumph. If something is reported~ to you about a third party; take care tc; inform yourself of the facts of the case. and never condemn anyone.without giving him an ,opportunity to clear himself. Do not chastise withoutprevious warning, unless there is ques-tion of an-offense that demands the immediate infliction of'suitable punishment. Be more indulgent towards ¯secret' faults, as they ,are ,not attended with scandal which is the grea~er evil. Follow the Ggs-pel rule in r~gard to g~ving charitable admonition ~o such as go astray. ",(Remember "seventy times seven" and the father "of the prodigal.) " Do not forager that the y6ung must hhve recreation, and that~the mind is as a soil,"which to yield, greater ,fruit has need of., rest. More-over, ~t is advisable that everything sh'ouldhavethe appearance of being done freely. Obedience becomes an intolerable yoke unless the-superior is careful to lighten its burden. 200 Julg, 19.52 MASTER OF, NOVICES Do not place iff the.hands ~)f your novices any of those apocry-' phal.books which St. Paul" calls old wives tales .--"ineptas autem et afliles fabulas devita." Faith is not supported by lying, and religion is truth itself. Vary the readings of your- young scholars, and for tear ofexciting or mis'directing their imagi.natio.ns, do not apply them exclusively to the contemplative styl~ of works.,¯ Besides, at an age s6.t~nde&the memory must have facts that it can-retain. Above a~ll preserve peace in the midst of your little flock', by endeavoring to lift up the souls entrusted to your care above all the little details of the life of the cloister which only too often degenerates into disputes, hatred, ~nd jeaiousy. Teach them to-be great in the smallest .things, and to impart a value to their:meanest duties by the manner in which they acquit tbemse|v~es.of them. Smother ambition; stir.up emula'tion. Otherwise you will train up proud men or boors. Instil] into your novices an espY'it de corps, but without anything exc.essive. ~ If one is not attached' to the insti-tute to which he belongs, he gra~lually grows weary of his state;" if one is so excessively, he thinks his order hecessary, despises all other religious" communities, and g6es so far as to canonizecertain ~buses t6 which he has become attached through routine or prejudice. Show yourself always even tempered. ¯There is nothing more .ridiculous thhn a man who is unlike himself. The young have a keim eye for deciphering a superior's character. - They are rarely mis-taken in the case of one who is odd or whimsical. It throws them ¯ otit in their calculations and Wins their esteem when they see a supe~ riot who pursues always the same even tenor, showing firmness on all occasions but without any sign¯of.ill-temper. ¯ Avoid familiarity: yet, be less the superior th~.n .the-bosom friend of those.who have been confided to you. Let tb~m find in you a fath'er, and let them understand that it is your grehtest pain to re-. prove them. Show no predilection except towards such as have more wisdom and piety, and let it be only in circumstances in which it may serve as a lesson for the indolent and flighty. Never employ artifice tO bring about the faults that you wish to discover. Such clever tricks" are not consistent With honesty. Let your ~unishmeffts~ be in pro-p~) rtion tO th~ gravity of the faults, and do not go.and make a crime out of certain light transgressions which imply neither malice nor disorder i~f the heart. .It is not by sho.uting that men are corrected. St. F~ancis de 201 L. GANGANELLI Sales used to say that he touched sinners more by professions of friends.hi~ for them than by scolding them. The language, of the Gospel is that of persuasion. Do not 'lead anyone by extraordinary paths and check those who would wish to follow them, unless there be evidence of a stiper-natural call; but these cases are so rare that they cannot serve as a 'law. The time for' mysticism and that sort of pure speculation is gone. It would be dangerous to rec'all it. ' Leave young men free to speak in your presence Without intimi-dating them. It is the way. to discover their interior. In a word, demean yourself as a kind father of a family who does. not wish to make his children either slaves or hypocrites .or dolts but subjects knowing how to render to God His due, to religion its rights, and to so'ciety what belongs to it. The first of all rules is to learn to l'ove the Lord, and to do nothing, that could displease Him. This is the one object of all religious institutions; for you know, Reverend Father, as well as I do, that our regulations would be often puerile, were they not meahs of leading us to God. Every founder has de- . vised such as he thought most suitable for his purpose. Beware of such pedantry as to po, se as one incapable of error and knowing everything. When I was teaching and ~som~thing was asked that I~ did not know, I admitted mY ignor~ance without make-shift of any kind before my pupils themselves, who only esteemed me the more for it. Young people like to ha'ce you put yourself on, a level with them. If I have drawn this paper out at length, it is because the life of a master of novices is a life of details. You might have addressed someone better qualified to speak on the points at issue, but it would have been hard for you t6 hit upon one who would have served you with greater interest. . FRA L. GANGANELLI Convent of the" Holy Apostles, Rbme (between 1760-1769) TEN-YEAR INDEXmSTILL AVAILABLE C0pies~ of the Ten Year Index of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS '(1942-1951) are still available at one dollar per copy. Kindly enclose paym~ent with the order from: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, St.Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. 202 bligher I::ducat:ion and \ "Real Religion" Sister M. Bofiaventure, O.S.F. ALTHOUGH formal higher education is a relatively recent fac-tor in the spiritual life of S!sters, when viewed in the light of the g~neral history of religious .orders,. yet its. impact has already been felt deeply' enough to draw comp.laint, comment, and serious study. Beginning with a consciousness of inadequate.returns f~om university w, ork, as attested by members of various religious communities, the reaction has grown at times to a serious conviction of over-emphasis on intellectual and professional training and a fore-boding tendency to generalize that American religious women of the mid-century 'are more widely instructed but less cultured, less dis-ciplined and balanced than the Sisters of a generation ago. Since th~ blame cannot be lald upon higher education in itself without destroy-ihg the intrinsic meaning o~ the term, we face the alternative that the fault must lie in the relation between the r~ligious and the experi-ences of higher educatior~. The error must be sought in the .formula used for integrating these experiences. For mdst religious, the initi~l mental attitude toward higher educatiori, the acceptance or the denial of its necessity, basically con-ditions all furtbe~ reactions. This facto~ of "necessity" should no longer be debatable: its validity has been pointed out repeated.ly in the authoritatiye language ot~ papal encyclicals and in the exhorta-tions of religious leaders. Yet restatement might be in order. Through the centuries of her existence Holy Mother Church has constantly defined and demonstrated that the scope of education is the whole aggregate of human life, physical and spiritual, intellec-. trial and moral, individual, domestic, and social. Irt his encyclical on Claristian education Plus XI reminds the world that such an edu- .cation can be imparted only by good. teachers thoroughly grounded in the matter they seek to teach, teachers who' have learried to under-stand and evaluate properly all the various aspects of human life-- religious, social, political, industrial, economic, and scientific--in their modern dynamic setting. ~ : Our present Pontiff, Pope Plus XII, has h~ightened this empha-sis. The encycl!cal "Humani Generis" not only stressed the prepara-' 203 SISTER M. BONAVENTURE ," ~ory n~ed ,of higher education but ~reeminence in intellectual le,adership Review foc Religious also sounded a clarion call to : "It is well kn,own how highly the Church re.gar,ds human reason . But reason can perfgrm its functions safely arid well only when properly tiaine~i, that is~ when imbued with that sound philosophy, which has .long been,,as it were, a patrimony . For' this philosophy safeguards the genuine validity of human knowledge . Let them (Catholic teachers) strive with every force and effort to further the progress of the sdences which they teach.let them enga'ge in most careful research.". (N.C.W.C. translatibn, p. 13:) The present picture.of Catholic ~ducation in America.is patent proof that religious are making great efforts tb ~realize the educational ideals of the Church. Today we face smaller, threat of the old accu-shtion that Catholic education is not Catholic enough. But the need to implement .fully our understanding of ed[~cation, to "fulfill the tdrm" remains, and this need is identified with the need for higher education. Translated into specific language, i~means the need for an understanding of present day problems of health, labor, govern-ment. and pehce: fdr contact With the realities which condition mod-ern life--pr.!ces, wages, taxes: for common grounds on which reli-" gi~)us can closely contact those whom they would educate: and, above all, for the ialibre of leadership that will focus attention on the potentialities of Catholic education. To meet this need religious communities must supply active members who are thoroughly famil-iar with the directives of the Holy See for a confused world: leaders who have mastered'bbth the theory and prac.tice of Catholic" action: teachers who can recognize ~ind champion truth wherever.it is found, nor confhse tolerance of persons with the tolerance of false principles: scholars who can chart the course of modern science and ,speak the language of .modern art. Higher learning, then. seen in its true nature and 'function. becomes a necemary .religious activity. Not ~gnly is it completely compatible with spiritual grdwth, but it should be a vital factor in such growth. Since God is Infinite Knowledgeand Wisdom, there is reverent,logic in the observation that "nature rightly developed is a condition for and a more fit subject, of elevatlon to the supernatural order and a more precious dedication to God." The lack of proper , adaptation to modern needs has been with justice analyzed as a cur-rent grieoance against religious.life and one cause of its depreciation today. In his allocution to. members of, the First Congress for Reli- 204 " gio~us. (1950),-Pope Pius XII has 'emphasized.repeatedly the vital ,.relation betw~en.religioi~s life and higher learning. As Father Letter has concisely summarized it, the Holy Father points to. per-sonal sanctity as the essential object of religibus vocation, but at the same time underlines the obligation which binds religious in regard to the means of sanctification the avocations of religious life. "In these avocations religious rna~/and muststrive to be as up~to-date a's any of their contemporaries. That way, we may add. the~ will help. to remove a pretext for d~p, reciatinreg h g "l o" u~s' life.". (.REVIEW FOR RELm~OUS, Jan., 1952.) A'sense of precaution alone, might well lead to the same'cohclu-sion. Religious educators concerns&with th~ complex problem of training-new meinbers have been. raising stron.g"voices .against the dangers with which inadequat~ preparation for work ~hreatens reli-gious vocation. We cannot pass over,lightly ~he wa~ning of Sister Madeleva, C.S.C.: "No.group can deteriorate more quickly or, more terribly ~han young girls~of the type that enter our novitiates today without proper and adequate intellectual, cultural'and spiritual chal-lenges;' (NCEA Bulletin. 1950 .255)'. ¯ Granting. then. the vital need of-higher ~d~cation in the active religious life. it is at once-apparent that the adjustment of conflicts , arising from this need rests .primarily with religious superiors and community directors. Such problems may arise in regard to safe-guarding ~egular community life and observance.of rule under aca-demic schedules; the selection of religious for higher~trMning, and most pertinently, in providing adeq~iate religious formation and con-tinued guidance~in: the integration of educational e.xperience. in the' past twenty years religious communities have evidenced a gro.wing awareness of such problems. Some of the solutions sug-gested and attempted have proved highly significant. There has been self-examination and frank admission o~ the stagnation in eduCa-tional woik, which results from community inbreeding. Complete reorganization of educational programs in many communities is demonstrating concretely tl~at adequate syn,thesis, of religious voca-, tion and avocation is possible. Such programs have been tested. analyzed, and evaluated at meetings of the National Catholic Edu-cational Association in recent years. Where attention is seribusly .focused on such synthesis, religious superiors find greatest opportun-iiy to bring ripened experience and intelligent zeal to the aid of the individual religious caught in men~al tensions. Neveriheless, the fact 205 ~ISTER M. BON,~VENTURE Reuiew /:or Religiou}~, remains th~;t it is on the plane of personal, interior integrati'on that the decisive conflicts of religious life are resolved.-No religious, whether in the" active.or in the contemplative life, can escape the basic problem of knowledge: bow to transmute knowledge into wisdom. To keep the balance! T, bat is the goal which spells personal sanctification. On the other hand, it is precisely¯ thee lack of balance that vitiates the relation between higher learning and. religious iife, building up the pressures and conflicts that draw condemnation. And since, for the active religious, contihued growth in knowledge and culture, is progress toward perfection in her state of life,. ~he problem' of proper balance is a perennial one, It faces the matur~ as well as the young religious. There is consensus in the observation that where ~ducational ex-periences are hot properly integrated ~by religious the resulting pres-sures may produce'three types of personality reaction: 1. Worldliness: Loss of spiritual¯ perspective. A shifting of ifocus from God to human activity. The ¯religious is nolonger'a Catholic educator but a mere devotee of science or of art. 2. Scrupulosity: A false dichotomy which constantly demands ¯ choice b~tween prayer and study as two independent activities. The religious finds her spiritual life increasingly cramped and is~ no longer ¯ able to find sahctifying unity in the labor of the laboratory or library and spiritual exercises. 3. Discontent: Unanalyzed pressures, which¯ are not always, the "divine restlessness" of St. Augustine, but which '.drive the religious to seek escape measures .in change of occupation or vocation. The adjustment necessary to prevent such reaction or to resolve" the conflict when it does .occur demands self-knowledge. And though it may seem anomalous, the need of s~If-knowledge may grow~ apace with.higher learning. For the religious with university¯ degrees may still be .the dangerous man of "one book," if the ~legrees. represent a knowl.edge of books alone. A clear knowledge of the im-mediategoal can be a dangerous pressure when not integrated with an equally clear grasp 0f the proper means for reaching the goal. And since we cannot discount ¯human inertia with its tendency to stop at ge, neral principles, instead of making concrete applications, there is reason to review some of the factors essential to adjustment 6r read-justment in religious life. Because the heart of the higher-education problem is conflict, the 'solution ~rests on a¯choice of method and of means. 206. July, 1952 HIGHER EDUCATION Method Conflict grows from disorder. Butorder is the recoghition of ~i definite hierarchy of succession among the parts of a rational entity,. It is established and maintained first, by a proper evaluation of each" part in t~rms of the. whole: then by a complete; integration of these parts-into an organic whole in which'each individual activity is sub-ordinated to the good of the whole organism. Neither the pursuit nor the. results of learning can be allowed a position of dominance. A mastery of s~abject matter must remain always a mastery, a iecoilected control which rules out avidity and passionate intens.ity and the vain, curious study that makes of learning the curiosiiates philosophantiun) denounced by St. Bonaventure. For.the Seraphic Doctor had learned from his master, St. Francis, that all science leads the mind from the consideration of' the creature to the contemplation of the Creator only when it is rightly pursued. Given their proper subsidiary evaluation, the learning activities ---courses and lectures, problems and examlnations--must be con-tinuously integrated into the brganic whole of the interior life. This can be accomplished only through the medium of love, the "unction" of St. Bonaventure. Interior inspiration, the fruit of daily medita-tion and mortification, must inform tile activities of the lecture hall and laboratory. If the arts';ind sciences, as we are told, are "'forever waiting the spiritualizing influence 6f revealed religion," surely the religious cannot forego this apostolate. Nor is it necessary to follow an~ complex formula in order to integrate, empirical knowledge, in-tellectual principles, religious intuition, and emotional response into a meaningful and orderly whole. The means are the staples of reli-gious life: faith, obedience, humility, and love. MeaDs Faith is the basis of integration. Of the religious, who makes learning a ladder of sanctity it may be said in the literal sense, "Thy faith hath made thee whole." We know the threefold object of faith: 1) to enlighten the mind with regard to God; 2) to show us the proper relation of creatures to God; 3) to'direct our'activity towards God. The.religious who ~'xercises dail3; the habit of faith hold~ the unfailing sblvent for every interior conflict. To the eye of faith every person, every situation, every idea is a transparency through which shines the Divine Countenance. Wi~h a living faith it is possible to hear the voice of the Eternal Lawgiver above every 207~ ~ISTER M. BONAVENTURE " Review for ~eligious lecture on history, economics, or politi~s and to read glimpses,of His beauty written large "6r small across the pages of ancient liteiature and modern letters. TO liveby ~faith is to see, ~albeit darkly~ not a threat but a divine wisdom and p!an behind academic sthedules,,and challenging assignments. It is. above all, to have an unfailing source of confidence and courage to face¯ any God-given task in the" knbwl-edge that'the power of heaven is ours. For in .the words of. our Holy Father "we are rich in supernatural assistance through the grace poured out in the floodtides of the' Sacraments and prayer.'.¯ Wh~t room is left for confliCt,in the mind of th~ religious who learns to find under the mate'rial "species" of 1.earn!ng experiences the sacra-mental "substance" of a spirit.ual reality which is a part of her com-plete consecration? No more time, no argu'ment is n.eede~ for the finding. -- Active faith provides the religious with a second 'effective means of integration, a means which is at the same time a gtiarantee against doubt and.mental c6nflict. This gi~aranteeis obedience,-the hinge of religious life,',formulated by the vow.of ~onsdcration and in its full implication t6uching every act of the human will. If the entrance of a religious into the field of higher e~ducation is dictated by vocational need, according to the judgment of superiors, rather than by a desire .for personal achievement, obedience provides firm ground on which every situation can be met with the peace which is the fruit of faith. But to prove the perfe, ct safeguard against con2 flict obedience mus~ rise above passive resignation. It must be the active, personal element ol~ our friendship with God, the beneoolentia of St. Thomas'i by which we will what comes to. us by God's order .because it is the expression ~f His love for us. Through faith, obedi-. ence reveals as the core of each new l~arning experience the recogni-ti6n of a .Divine Provideiice. ¯ The abiding habit of such active obedience, is the foundation of the perfect peace ,recognized by,Dhnte, the peace of a mind relaxed not on the defensive-=therefore, a permeable mind that. absorbs and retains ~ith ~least. effort. TOO frequently well-meanifig,but confused religious, who fear to launch out into the depths of faith and trust, block by feverish activity and fearful tension the very channels' through which God is expected toanswer their pleas for aid, t~eir imagination, memory, understanding'. The r~li~ious who desires in obedience "to be to God what a hand is to a man" will be cdntent to do what G6d indicates as reasonable in any situation, as best-she can, HIGHER I~DUCATION° then without qualm or conflict leave the results to Him, even when. these results affect entire communities. Faith does not' lessen daiiy, responsibilities nor dilute .them with nonchalant optimism. But it does enable the religious scholar to bear the burden lightly, with the detachment and'joy that are the marks of ~ will surrendered tO God. " Perhaps the most subtl~ and least, recognized source of tension f6r the religious .studen~ is personal susceptibility and its tenuous roots of pride. The ignorance of a child reaches out.foi knowledg~ with a'joyous freedom and pliancy. The adult mind can grasp truth safely and without pain qnly by the grace of,humility. ForAearning is~always a' "receiving," ari acknowledgement of need. The mind that is undonsciously'on the defensive against such acknowledgement to superiors.in~tructors, fellow ~tudents, even. to itself is under a psychological pressure that brakes every :lear~aing process. Not only does such pressure pre~clude an open-mind but, more seriously, it is incompatible with recollection and inspiration. " The religious who ~onsi~tently strives for complete ~ integration of all" her activities in the field of higher learning by seeing every ex-. perience with the eyes of faith, recognizing p.eacefully its seal of providential design and accepting it with a humble and open-heart, will find within herself what is at once the fruit and lthe only valid-test of such integration. That fruit is know, ledge transformed into wisdom by the alchemy of love--wisdom which makes love come .full circle iia contemplation. This is the wisdom which, whefi~ com-municated, iadiates, transforming love and is the truth.which makes. men free. " But unless recollection and devotion draw knowledge within .the circumference i3f a personality whos~ center is God, its widest reaches W,ill mdrely parch the soul, leaving 6nly a" hard glittering surface. What is worse, this arid desert of surface knowledge is the soil which ~ fraelasdei lcyo ;npsrcoidenuccee,s sac rhuopslte os,f rfaatlisoen daliiczhaotitoonmsi.e Os'na nthde m oethnetar lh caonndf,l tihctes-: religious who remember'with Maritan,. that "just as. everything which is in the Word is found-once more in tt'ie Sp!rit, .so must 'all that We know pass into our power of affection " by love,", will find .th.a.t. every facet of ~aature on which man may concentrate can be made to yield fuel for the inner life,of re!igious perfection. Only the flafiae thus fed-can dispel the darkness of the cold materialism which sur: rounds "us. Need we hesitate to conclude that prop(r evaluation of educa- 209 NATIONAl; C(~NGRESS Review t~or Religious tional goals and adequate spiritual integration of learning experiences cannot fail to eliminate th~ conflicts and tensions frequently.associ-ated with higher education for religious? Will it not de~pen appre-ciation ~ religious life and underline the tragedy of the loss of voca-tion? Religious thus educated do not merely know more ~hings, but thdy understand the vivifying unity underneath all things and in this understanding taste the peace and joy of "real religion." Such religious respond fully ~o the exhortation of the'Holy Father, which cannot be repeated too freque.ntly: "Be what you are. Let your'live~s bear witness to the reality of rtehheg "lo "u's state, Then' men,within and without the Church, will understand and esteem the state of ~erfection." Nal:ional Congress [EDITOR'S NOTE: Fa~'her Francis J. Connell. C.SS.I~., the executive chairman of the National Congress of Religious Men, kindly sent us the following communica-tion about the Congress to be held at Notre Dame University in August.] The First National Congress of Religious will be held at Notre Dame, Indiana, from August 9th to August 13th this year. Both religious men and women will be present, but 'will hold se)arate meeting~, except for a few meetings in common. It ik hoped that all orders and congregations now having a foundation in the' United States will be ~epresented. Housing facilities for about 1800 will'be available on the campus at Notre Dame University. It has been agreed by those in Charge of the Congress that 800 religious men and 1000 religious women will be invited. , O~ Saturday evening, August 9th, an address will be made.to the assembled religious by the Most Rev. John F. O'Hara, C.S.C., Arch-' bishop of Phila°delpbia. Solemn Benediction of the Mos~ Blessed Sacrament will theft be given, with Father Arcadio Larraona, cele-brant; Father Elio Gambari, S.M.M., deacon; Father Joseph Giam-pietro, S,.J., subdeacon. These of~cials.have been deputed by the Sacred Congregation of Religious to be present at ~he.Congress as re-presentatives .of the said. Congregation. On Sunday morhing the~e will be a Solemn Pontifical Mass after which His Excellency, A. G. 210 dul~l, 1952 ~ QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Cicognani, Archbishop of Laodicea and "Apostolic Delegate t£ the United States, will ~ddress tbe oentire Congress. Undoubtedly .the main purpose of this Congress is to discuss p~obl.ems of. religious life' especially.pertaining to the present-day con-ditions in America. The Holy See isvitally interested in this sub-ject, and beyond doubt, many of the ideas which will be broached at this Congress will be brgugbt to the attention of the Roman au-thorities. The religious in Americi believe that it is possi,ble to main-tain a high standard ofreligious life in the United State~ i:lespite the materialistic and pleasure-loving tendencies of our country. With a view to attaining this objective, papers will be. read by representatives of the Congress on special subjects, e.g.,' stinlulation of vocations to the religious life in the United States; the obligation of superiors to fulfill their duties with p~oper regard for the innate love of indepen-dence of }:he American .people--in itself an admirable trait of charac-ter, and capable of being perfectly conformed to the higher.ideals of religious obedi(nce. Al~o, particular consideration will be given to the contemplative life, the sect~lar institutes, American religious of the Oriental Rites, and similar topics. The.dlosing ceremony" will be a Candlelight Procession to the Grotto of Our Lady at Notre Dame. It is very "evident that only a comparatively small proportion of "r~ligious in our dountry will be able to attend this gathering, but it is firmly boiled by'those in charge of the Congress that all will pray fervently that'God may bless this meeting with abundant fruits, and that Our Blessed Lady, on whose University grounds this first National Congress is being held, will obtain many graces for the par-ticipants and for all those whom they represent. ¯ .Questions and Akiswers 19 Please explain the prescriptions of the Church regarding the chap,fer of faults.in a religious community. " ' . : The chapter° of faults has beenpracticed 'for centuries in som~ form by'the older orders in the Church. As regards modern congre-gatipns, the Sacred Congregation of Bishops and Regulars had the following prescriptions in the Norrnae of 1901: . . 211 -- QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religious 1), It is'not necessary, that a congregation, prescri,be the chapter of faults in its constitutions. This does not.meah, howe~rer, thatthe religious is fre~ not t6 attend, if the constitutio'~as'.do prescribe the chapter of faults. (Art. 167.) 2). If it is prescribed, it should not be held oftener than 6nce a wed(. nor less frequently than once a m6nth. (Art. 167.) 3) . The accusation of faults~ which a religious makes to his supe-rior in the .chapter ro6m should be limited to faults and violations Of the constitutions that are external. 4) After-each accusation the superior imposes a penhnce. Obvi- . ously there Should be some pr, oportion~between the fault and the penance, and prudence and discretion should temper the penance ac-cording to persons, and circumstances. (Art. 169.) This exercise of fiumility and penance can be the occasion for the practice of virtue and for stimulating religious to overcome external f~iults to which they are prone. It al~o affords the.opportunity of" repairing th~ scandal (disedifi~ation) given to fell6w r~ligious by the faults. "" In some institute~' custom permits the members of the comr~un-ity to accuse one another of faults that they"have observed. If this practice is not already p.rovided for in the constitutions or book of customs, it should not be introduced without permission. Finally~. the superior may take the occasion of the chapter of faults to admon-ish the.community regarding external faults that aremore-or less common. This method of pate.rnal correction is especia.lly efficacious at the time of the devotional renewal o-f vows. -~-20--- At our novltlatewe have professed, novices, and postulant 'Brothers. who assist at Mass; which is served by novices. And on ~erta;n feast days the Sisters participate. Please cj;ve the cc;rrect order. ;n which Holy Com-munion should be distributed. - The Roman Ritual (tit. IV cap. ~I)- telis us that the priest:dis-tributing Holy Communion should begin with the Mass servers, if the~i Wish to cc;mmunicht~. A decree.bf the Sacred Congregation-of Rites (N. 107~, 3uly 13, 1658) sta'ted that the Mass server was to receivd Holy Communion before the nuns and other persons present. A later decre~ (N. 4271, lj permitted a lab, man serving~Mass,. ,~'though he do not wear the clerical garb, to receive Holy Communion. within the sanctuary, at the plat~orin of the altar. As there was a" '2"12 ¯ " . ' . ~ul~, 195Z .QUE~TION~ AND ANSWERS difference of opinion" in the interpretation-of these prescript{ons, the. Sacred Congregation of Rites gave the following detailed' regulations in a decree dated January 30, 19F5 (AA$, VII 1915, 71-72) : "The term Mass server or server at the altar includes any cleric or layman who serves l~/Iass at the altar.and he is to be preferred to others in the distribution of Holy Communion with the.following precautions: clerics are to be preferred to alayman serving Mass, and. clerics in major orders are to be preferred to cl~rics in~ minor orders , who are serving Mass." Keeping these various presc,~iptions {n mind,- w~ may now answer our question as follows: The Mass server, whether cleric or.layman, recei~res Holy COmo reunion before others ~who may be present, unless some are clerics; all clerics receive Holy Communionbefore a Mass server who is a lay-man: if the server is a cleric, he should receive first in his lank of clerics, precedenc~ being given to clerics 6f higher rank. Lay religious, Brothers and non-cleric~il religious, that is,.r~ligious not yet tonsure.d though destined for the priesthood, as well as Brothers and Sis: ,ters, all.receive Holy Communion after the Mass server, l~e he a cleric or a layman. " Finally,. an exception is made at a NuptialMass, at which the bride and groom may be given Holy Communion before, the. Mas~ server. As to the order of precedence in receiving Holy Communion at the Communion rail 6n the par,t of non-clerical religious, there are no regu'lations. Hence local customs may be observed if the consti~ tutions do not prescribe the precedence. It may be well. to recall here that a reserved instruction by the Sacred Congregation of Religious, December 8, 1938, said there should be no "rigid and quasi-military order" in coming to the Communion rail. Many commentators on ¯ this instruction suggested that the order prevailing in numerous reli-giou~ communities of receiving Communion.in a definite order should be changed. For the text of the instruction se~ Father Bouscaren's Canon'Law .Digest, II, 208 ft. ; ~nd for an article on the instruction, as well as a digest of the text, see REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, III (1944), 252-70. SHALLI START TO DRINK? . . Shall 1 Start to Drink?, by 3ohn C. F6rd~ S:d., p~esents a clear discussion of ¯ the moral and ascetical aspects of total abstinence. A pamphlet; published by The Queen's Work, 31 15 South Grand Boulevard, St. Lohis 18, Missouri. .213 I THE MORNING OFFERINGs. By Thomas ML Moore, S.~. °Pp~ t69. .Ap0stl~shlp.o~f Prayer, New York, '1950. $3.00. 40,000,000 members of. the Apostleship of Prlayer" scattered throughout the world, priests; ~ligious, men and women and chil-dren of every race and clime, recite "The Morning Offering".~laily. This formidable army of prayer is sending up unceasin~ petition to the Throne of God tbrdughout thehours of the day and night that "through the [mmaculate Hdart, of Mary" He may.acdebt their "prayers. works, joys and ~suff_erings of the day for all the int,entions of the Sacred 'Heart. in union with' the Holy. SaCrifice. of the Mass throughout th'e world, in reoaration for sin. for the intentions of all the Associates. and in particular, for all the intehtions"of the Holy Father." ¯ The last half of Father Moore's book .is a detailed expl~natio, n 6f the mo~ning offering. The chapters o'n the Immaculate Heart.of Mary the Comfiaunion of" Reparation.and the /kpostleship of* Suffering d~serve special mention. . o The first half.of the book contains a simple, untechnical expla-nation of the fundamental notions of theology, which underlie the Morning Offerifig': -cre'ati0n, end of man, tlSe love~ of God and of the Sacred Heart for men as.shown in the.redemption, man's free co-opei'atiori in~he work of God. the nature and .efficacy O,f prayer. union with ~hrist, especially in the Eucharistic Saerifice. The history a'nd*development of the Apostleship of"Prayer as well as. itS adapta-tion to-modern times, especially through the S~cred Hear( Radio Pr?grgm, bring the book to a close. - " This bpok is ~arnestly recommended to all religious for their own personal use in order to get-acquainted wi'th the Apostleship,of Prayer if they,are not. members as ye~.and to help' the~rfi spread.the °Ap0stl~ship far an~l wide among the faithful who come under their ¯ influence.' "It i] v/ell suited.: fo~ spiritual reading, either .privately or .in' common.--ADnM C." ELLIS[ S.J. WHAT IS THE iNDEX? By Redmond A. Burki~, C.S.V. Pp. x -k" 130. Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee, 1952. $2.75. . Thislohg needed book gives a brief but'solid expos.ition of the. origin, .nature, and extent of the laws of. the, Church re~arding censorship and~ p.~oh!bition of books. It is. directed not merely to theological students and the pra~.icin~ clergy, b~Jt primar!ly "to, the 214 . BOOK REVIEWS intellige~nt laity, whether Catholic or.no~-Catholic, and it attempts~ to discover th~ effects of e~clesiasti~al regulation~ with 'reference to, the entire world of literature. For this reason the termsare, as far as possible, nontecbnical.'~ After gi,ving the~ historical, background of the Church's .legisla-, tion in chapter.ond. [he author goes on to treat the foliowing sub-~ jects in subsequent chapters:, censorship of books in adyance of pub! lication:0condemfiation of ,publisl~ed books: general classes Of for5 bidden literature: methods of examining books by the Holy Office: I'ndex of forbidden, books: penalties for. violations of book regula-tions: permission to read forbidden books: and promotion of' - re~ding. Perhap.s the most valuable chapter in the book is that in which he treats general classes of forbidden lit~ratu're.' It is. in reality, commentary on canon 1399 of the'Code of Canon Law. Too many Catholics including some priests and religious, labor under the false impressio.~i that as long as a book,is not listed in the Index of For-. bidden Boobs it .may be read w. ith impunity. Most forbidden books are not listed in theIndex. ~Inste, ad. their are t~) be judged by. probi-bition-~ f different classes Of books as determined in canon. 1399. The author gives ~ brief, but satisfactory comm~n,t on each clas~ of books contained in this canon. Of special importance also is the chapter telling.how to bbtain permission to read forbidden books. This .will prove very.helpful for st~udents doing ~esea.rch work, as well as those in professional schools. - In an appendix the aUthor g~ves various listings of books ~n~the Index: 7We are deeply" indebted to him for l~a, ving given us'also Abbd Bethleem's valuable lists of selections of the work of F~ench authors which.may be :read,.in spite ot: the fact that the authors' works.are forbidden in ge'neral. A final app, endix on "The C;reat Book~ Program" completes the work. Af~er,.poi~ating out the,-valu'e of this praisewo'rthy project, the autho~ lis~s the booksbn the pro'gram which'may not be read with-out permission. This excellent book should, be~on thesheJv, es of every Catholic school !ibFfiry beginning with the high school, and on up to college and university lentil. Likewise, every religl6us community .engaged in teaching in secondary schools and co!leges should have a copy in the faculty library. Other religious engaged:in act.ire works will als0 find it useful. ADAM~C. ELLIs. S.O,. 215 BOOK R~VlEWS . . " ". Reoieto for Ret(gious " THE SEMINARIAN AT'HIS PRIE-DIEU. By'Robert.Nash; S.d. Pp. 312. The-Newman Press, We~fmlnster, Md., 1951. $3.50. This is a book of meditations for seminarians. Fr. Nash's thirty-eight meditations are aimed at hdping s~mingrians gr~ow into p, ray-erful priests who will be ready for the!r work in the p,resent world of social unrest, of threatening Communism, of secularism, and the rest. As in histwo previous companion works, The Nun at Her Prie-Dieu and The Priest at His Prie-Dieu, each meditation containsa prepara-tory prayer, the setting or cdmposition of place, the fruit desired, three or four points (each of which the author rightly suggests could serve for one or more meditations), a brief, summary of the points, and a tessera or catchword to be recalledduring the day. Particularly well done is the setting,, which can help a busy'stu-dent cast aside extraneous thoughts and.apply his mind more readily to .the subjec~ matter of the meditation. Though this book cannot remove all the thorns that beset the paths of mental przyer, s~mi-narians, t~erhaps more especially those fresh from the "world," will find in it plentiful material and a good method to follow in their meditation. It could also be u~ed profitably for spiritual reading. JOHN F. MOORE,. S.J. THE CARMELITE DIRECTORY OF THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. Translated from ~the'Lafln. Pp. xxlv -F~ 575. The Carmelite Press,'.Chlcag.o, II1., 1951. For Carmelites themselves, for their followers, and for students of their spirituality, this directory will be an invaluable and almost inexhaustible gold mine of doctrine. It is official, being introduced and commended by a letter, of the Prior General. It dales not bear the name of any writer or corn'piler, but seems, to be put forth l~y the ~armelite Order itself. It is recent/ the Latin o6ginal being dated 1940. Its purpose is t~ complement 'and implement the Rule ~nd Constitutions. ~ The work consists bf four major parts. Parts one ~ind two, en-titled, respectively,. "Dogmatic Fundamentals of the Spiritual Life" and "Principlesof Religious Life," are of a general and Catholic, ha-. ture and prepare for what is specifically Carmelite. This is presented in tile latter tWO.l~art,s.Of these the third is headed "A Holy Heart~" and deals mostly "i¢ith the conquest of bad habits, the acc~uisition of ¯ the virtues, and the pursuit of perfection. The last part is devoted to ."The Contemplative Life." Some people no doubt will note with surprise how little space is. given.to the m3~stical phase of the spiritual ~ life. (pages 525-551)'. . , 216 July, 1952 . BOOK I~OTICES It is interes'ting to observe, in view of Wl~at certain welJ-known authors on prayer, for instance, Saudreau an~t Arintero, hold, that where "the higher degrees of mental prayer wl~ich can be attained by ordinary grace" are treated, we find the statement that "there are two higherdegrees x~hich today are usually called affective pra~,er and the prayer of simplicity or filso acquired contemplation" (p. 425). Toward'the end of the section on the gifts of the Holy¯ Spirit it is affirmed that persons who cultivate them carefully "may :lawfully expect to_be led day by day to greater perfection and to work great things for the glory of God and*His kingdom" (p. 299). No promise is made of mystical favors. The 'Prior General has a sentence in his letter that is enlightening about the spirit of Carmel: "In this book.will be found fully explained those key principles of Carmel: to give our whole selves to God--to stfi.ve for purity of conscience--to foster intimate union with God" (p. xxiii). Lastly, the delicate problem of the historical connectibns of the Order witch "our Holy Father Elias" is handled devoutly but-Cautiously. ~-~AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD, S.J. BOOK NOTICES Som~ years ago Father Henry Davis, S.J., rendered an invaluable ser'vice~to the English-speaking clhrgy, as well as to theology-minded laity, by publishing a 4-volume work on moral and pastoral the-ology. Before his death at the age of eighty-five, in January of this year, he had increased his measure of service by preparing a 1-volume SUMMARY OF MORAL AND PASTORAL THEOLOGY. The book covers the whole of moral theolpgy: principles: precepts, and sadraments; and it includes much sound pastoral advice. It is a very useful book for priests, libraries, and those 9fthe laity who wofild like t6 become. acquaifited with a standard manual of moral .tl~eology. One' caution might be added for the laity. The treatise on the Sixth Command-ment, since it follows the pattern of the theological textbook, con-tains certain technicalities that might be more confusing than help-ful. The laity'who "irish to read on this subject for their personal benefit would do better to use a book written expressly for them. (New York: Sheed ~3 Ward, 1952. Pp. xxxvi -b 486. .$5.00.), A decidedly readable explanation of the doctrine of the Mys~fical, Bddy of Christ is THE LIVING CHRIST, by John L. Murphy. The t .217 BOOK NOTICES - Revi~ for Religious explana~tion is based o~n Pius XII'~ encyclical." M~/st, ic[ Co?~oris. The author avoids the use of technical terms as much as possil~le and plains those that must be used. The style i~ marked by clarity, simplicity, "ahd. a certain down-to-ear~hnes~ that contributes con-creteness without losing digni

Issue 71.1 of the Review for Religious, 2012. This was the final issue. ; Volume 71 2012 Editor Michael G. Harter sj Associate Editor Garth L. Hallett sj Book Review Editor Rosemary Jermann Scripture Scope Eugene Hensell osb Editorial Staff Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp e v i e w f o r r e l i g i o u s A Journal of Catholic Spirituality contents prisms 4 Prisms Ignatian spirituality 8 Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? We Are Sent Kathleen Hughes rscj explores the provocative parallels between the Four Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises and the four-part rhythm of the Eucharist as two ways we are caught up in the work of God in Christ, and two invitations to replicate the whole life, death, and rising of Jesus. This article was one of the keynote presentations at Ignatian Spirituality Conference V held in St. Louis, Missouri, July 21-24, 2011. 29 Without the Drama: The Transition from Third to Fourth Week Ronald Mercier sj explores how those who make the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius are invited to enter into a grand silence where they contemplate the empty space without answers that follows the crucifixion—the space that remains the context of our lives, the place of our ministries, and the space within which joy dawns for those who know the Risen Lord. Questions for Reflection 58 Finding or Seeking God in All Things: A Few Cautionary Notes Peter J. Schineller sj researches the phrase "finding God in all things," common in writings about Ignatian spirituality, and discovers that it is rare in the writings of Ignatius. He finds that phrases such as "searching for and seeking God in all things" more accurately describe the Ignatian approach. 2 Review for Religious sharing experience 69 The Warmth, the Will, and the Way Ben Harrison mc is discovering that it helps him be more consistent in his spiritual journey if he is attentive to the warmth of the Spirit's presence in his heart and to the vows as an expression of the will to move deeper in his relationship with God. 78 Getting with the Program A young man writes of his experience of coming to terms during the novitiate with his addiction to pornography. This article could be used profitably as a case study during a novitiate class or read as background for a community discussion. Questions for Personal Reflection and Group Study discernment models 86 Dialogue with the Radically Other: Models of Discernment in the Old Testament Ligita Ryliskyte md phd sje explores the rich imagery of the Old Testament and offers valuable paradigms to understand spiritual discernment as a dialogue with God. In this essay she describes four models of discernment that might be distinguished in Old Testament imagery. departments 100 Scripture Scope: Vocation and the Call to Discipleship: A Reflection on Mark 1:16-20 105 Book Reviews 71.1 2012 3 Review for Religious prisms 4 A wise man once said: "It's a shame to waste a good crisis." If that is true, Review for Religious is facing a moment of great opportunity. In recent years the number of subscribers has steadily fallen off, and the cost of publication has risen to the point that our future as a print journal is in jeop-ardy. The recent deaths of Fathers Fischer and Fleming have taken their toll. We have reached a critical point in our history. When my provincial assigned me to succeed David Fleming as editor, he gave me a specific mission: Assess the viability of the publication. So for the past year, the staff and our advisory board have taken that mission seriously even as we worked to meet our ordinary production schedule. While we all hoped to be able to keep this good work alive, the real goal of our discernment was not to save or to close the journal, but to explore ways to more effectively serve the church. In the past months we have consulted widely. We looked at the shifting demographics of reli-gious life and understood that younger reli-gious are getting more of their information on 71.1 2012 5 the Internet than through printed periodicals. We sorted through spreadsheets of detailed financial information. We looked hard at our available resources and realized that we could sustain publication of the journal in its present format for a maximum of three to five years. The hand-writing on the wall could not be clearer: Simply maintain-ing operations as they are will inevitably lead to closure. Maintenance, without change, is not an option. Part of our analysis took us back to look at our history. Our journal came into being in 1941 at a Jesuit theolo-gate in St. Marys, Kansas, where three enterprising faculty members—Augustine Ellard, Adam Ellis, and Gerald Kelly (later joined by Henry Willmering)—invited their students to edit and publish the papers they wrote as class assignments in what became the early incarnation of this journal which has served the church and religious life proudly for the past 70 years. Richard Smith, Daniel F. X. Meenan, Philip Fischer and David Fleming edited the publi-cation over the subsequent decades. Since Review for Religious was founded at a small theology school, we began exploring the idea that a theology center, rather than the confines of our office, would be a more logical site for the publication of this journal. As we realized that a network of theology centers around the world linked through the Internet could have great potential for producing articles and generating lively discussion, we began exploring that path. We contacted the moderators of Jesuit Conferences that have significant centers of religious formation in Africa, India, and the Asia-Pacific region—in parts of the world Augustine Ellard, Adam Ellis, Gerald Kelly, Henry Willmering Review for Religious Author • Title 6 where religious life is growing—to see if any of them would have an interest in assuming responsibility for the journal. As a result of our inquiries, we are engaged in a conversa-tion with just such a center about continuing the mission of Review for Religious. We are not looking to replicate the journal as it cur-rently exists, but are talking about re-envisioning and re-designing it with current and future generations of religious in mind. As a result of our discussions and discernment, we have determined that this copy of Review for Religious is the final issue that will be produced by our St. Louis office. Whether the journal remains as a print publication, or is redesigned for delivery on the Internet, or ceases publication altogether is yet to be determined. In the meantime, we are suspending publication and putting a moratorium on renewals or new subscriptions until our discernment is completed. To say that we have reached the end is premature. A hiatus or pause is a more accurate description. As Ron Mercier points out in his article in this issue, a rest is as important a part of a musical score as is a chord or a whole string of arpeggios. And such a time of waiting can be a rich moment. We are not sitting idly while the discussion goes on but are in the process of digitizing our entire collection. We plan to make every article, poem, and book review we have published available on the Internet. It should be an invalu- Richard Smith, Daniel Meenan, Philip Fischer, and David Fleming. 71.1 2012 7 able archive for anyone wishing to research the shifts in religious life during the past 70 years. I am grateful to our current staff: Mary Ann Foppe, who has been the office manager for the past 25 years; Judy Sharp, our receptionist, who has handled subscriptions; Rosemary Jermann, who has written the Bookshelf column; Garth Hallett sj, who has served as Associate Editor; Tracy Gramm, who has done layout and graphic design. I have appreciated Ed Hensell osb, Elizabeth McDonough op, Richard Hill sj, and Joseph Gallen sj, who have provided regular columns over the years, and Jean Read, Iris Ann Ledden ssnd, Regina Siegfried asc, Claire Boehmer asc, Joe Meek, and many oth-ers who have made major behind-the-scenes contri-butions. They have been an excellent staff. We are grateful to the countless number of con-tributors who have sent us manuscripts and poetry for our consideration. They helped us keep our finger on the pulse of religious life. And finally, we thank you, our faithful subscribers. We are grateful for your support, and we trust that we have been an important resource for you over the years. Please read the inside of the back cover of this issue. It contains details about how to keep informed about the progress of our discernment. We will notify each subscriber about the outcome of that discernment. Please pray that the Spirit will lead us to a good conclusion. Michael Harter SJ Rosemary Jermann, Mary Ann Foppe, Tracy Gramm, Judy Sharp and Michael Harter Review for Religious Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? We Are Sent I need to begin with a confession. I was given an assignment to speak about the Eucharist, particularly as it describes a way of life flowing from Weeks Three and Four of the Exercises. I am not an expert on the Spiritual Exercises, but I have been a student of the Eucharist for many decades, so I was happy to think about this topic. And, though the talk was still non-existent, a description had to be prepared for the program booklet. Many of you have prob-ably had the same experience. You make up a description of a talk right out of thin air, hop-ing to be sufficiently generic so you can talk about almost anything at all. kathleen hughes ignatian spirituality 8 Kathleen Hughes rscj, former professor of Word and Worship at the Catholic Theological Union in Chicago and former provincial of her order's United States prov-ince, is currently a mission consultant in the Network of Sacred Heart Schools. Her address is 541 S. Mason Road; St. Louis, Missouri 63141. 71.1 2012 9 But a funny thing happened to me on the way to the topic assigned. I took a detour. I stumbled onto what I regard as an amazing new insight about how the Eucharist and the Spiritual Exercises mirror each other. At first I thought I was the last to arrive. Then I checked with those who have far greater familiarity with the literature on the Spiritual Exercises, and no one had heard any reflection on such a topic. That, too, gave me pause and left me wondering how far out on a limb I was climbing. Nevertheless, here's the insight I want to develop in the first part of this talk: there seems to be a quite provocative parallel between the Four Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises and the four-part rhythm of the Eucharist. The gathering rites of the Eucharist include elements of praise and penitence, as are typical of movements in Week One of the Spiritual Exercises; the Liturgy of the Word is the gradual unfolding of the person and work of Jesus Christ, as occurs in Week Two; the Liturgy of the Eucharist, the celebration of Jesus' death for the life of the world, is the heart of Week Three; and the concluding rites of the Eucharist have an affinity with the rhythms of Week Four. In these pages I intend to develop this thesis in more detail, hoping in the process to give fresh insight into God's activity in these two parallel celebrations of the paschal mystery—these two ways we are being caught up in the work of God in Christ. Then I will move to a focus on the Eucharist itself, as it flows from Week Three, incarnates the intimacy of Week Four, and remains the abiding experience of consolation, chal-lenge, and invitation to faithful living, parallel to leav-ing retreat and picking up everyday life. Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 10 Part I: Parallels Overview First, then, before we look at the Four Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises and the four parts of the Eucharist in more detail, let me offer an overview of the resonances I've discovered between them. Both the Eucharist and the Spiritual Exercises are a series of movements or stages that, negotiated with grace, realize the Christian ideal of identification with Christ. Both are invitations to conversion; both, at their heart, are offers of holi-ness and transformation. Both the Exercises and the Eucharist have a basic psychological rhythm that facili-tates growth in the spiritual life. The Exercises and the Eucharist as we know them only gradually evolved to their present form. The Exercises began as jottings in Ignatius's personal notebook—conso-lations, desolations, graces received—and this collec-tion of insights developed into a practical manual as Ignatius gave them to oth-ers and learned from their experience. They remain a core series of spiritual exercises that are endlessly flexible as enfleshed in the lives of individuals. The Eucharist, too, is the result of a gradual evolution over time around the core of readings and the breaking of bread, making every age and every human commu-nity a fresh inculturation of a basic pattern. Happily, in our day the basic four-part structure of gathering, listening, responding, and sending has been recovered in the liturgical reforms of the Second Vatican Council. Both the Eucharist and the Spiritual Exercises interrupt our ordinary time with extraordinary grace. 71.1 2012 11 Interestingly, both the Exercises and the Eucharist are filled with words, indeed with dialogue, and with spaces of silence. Both also make appeal to all of our senses and stir up mystagogical insights in those who are attentive. Both the Eucharist and the Spiritual Exercises interrupt our ordinary time with extraordinary grace; they help us to make sense of our life as it is unfolding before the living God. And both the Eucharist and the Exercises send us to live, in deed, what we have just experienced in this time of encounter with the divine. Finally, both these patterns of prayer follow, for most of us, familiar and predictable dynamics and so, for each, we need the grace to pay attention, to move beyond the familiar in order to get inside the mysteries. The First Week and the Gathering Rites of the Eucharist We come to retreat or to Eucharist just as we are, and we bring our history and our particular world with us into this sacred time and place. We come, sometimes breathlessly, from the work we have just left behind and the preoccupations that fill our minds and hearts. We come always with unfinished business and with distrac-tions, even burdens, of body and spirit. We come with our crosses and our inexhaustible needs. We come because we are drawn to a time and space of intimacy and prayer, of encounter with the Lord who will tutor our hearts, of transformation to new and deeper life. We come to be nourished. We come remembering God's goodness and God's fidelity to us, no matter our own response. We come hoping to touch our finger to the flame once again, placing ourselves, for this span of time, on holy ground. God's unconditional and ever-faithful love perme-ates our awareness in Week One. Each one of us has Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 12 been blessed with divine life; God's creative activity has showered each of us in unique ways and has supported and sustained us throughout our lives. In face of the immense goodness of God, we acknowledge our inade-quate response; we know that sin has hindered our rela-tionships with self and others and, above all, with God. Week One provides the opportunity to recognize sin as our failure to respond with love to God always present, to express our own sorrow and repentance, and then to know God's ever-greater love, mercy, and forgiveness. We reflect on our lives in light of God's boundless love for us, knowing that God wants to free us of everything that gets in the way of a loving response. The focus is less on particular sins than on our relationship with God that has been damaged, perhaps even shattered. Yet it is a relationship always available, for God longs for intimacy with us far more than we could ask or even imagine. Our personal history gives us hope: God is filled with mercy and compassion, slow to anger, full of kindness. God's response to our repentance is mercy and forgiveness. By the end of the First Week, we know ourselves as sinners, loved and rescued by a God who is so much greater than our hearts. These same heart movements are present in the gathering rites of the Eucharist. We generally begin the celebration with a hymn of praise and thanksgiving. We are then invited into a time of silence before the liv-ing God, and we cannot but realize our unworthiness and our experience of sin. In the language of the new Missal we own our complicity in sin "through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault," and we join with one another in begging for mercy and for-giveness: "Lord, have mercy." Then the Gloria is our hymn of praise after the words of absolution: "May 71.1 2012 13 almighty God have mercy on you, forgive you your sins, and bring you to life everlasting. Amen." We begin the Eucharist knowing ourselves as loved sinners, disposed to open our hearts to the word proclaimed in our midst. There are two additional striking parallels between the First Week of the Exercises and the gathering rites of Eucharist. The first has to do with the cross of Christ, for the cross is prominent at the beginning of both experiences. The retreatant is invited to make a first meditation before the cross; similarly, when we gather for the Eucharist, the entrance procession places the cross at the very beginning of the celebration. There is nothing like the cross of Christ to sharpen our focus, to bring us to the sober reality that relationships have consequences, that the paschal mystery of Jesus' life, death, and rising is what has made it possible to draw near to the throne of grace. And here's a second intriguing possibility with the Eucharist. There is a presidential prayer at the conclu-sion of the entrance rites, another at the preparation of the table and the gifts, and a third after Communion. These are all, essentially, prayers of petition; they each ask for a specific grace that is dependent for its focus on the place of the prayer in the rite. We really could think of these prayers as "preludes" that name and ask for a specific grace as we move from one week to the next, from one part of the Eucharist to the next. For example, the opening prayer for today's liturgy, the Seventeenth Sunday, Year A, from icel's Missal of 1998, reads: God of eternal wisdom, You alone impart the gift of right judgment. Grant us an understanding heart that we may value wisely the treasure of your kingdom Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 14 and gladly forego all lesser gifts to possess that kingdom's incomparable joy. We make our prayer through Our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son Who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit God for ever and ever. Amen.1 What a perfect presidential prayer to open our hearts to the Word of God; what a perfect prelude to move to Week Two of the Exercises. The Second Week and the Liturgy of the Word The parallels between the Second Week of the Exercises and the Liturgy of the Word are easily dis-cernible. Both focus on the scriptures, and both invite decision; both are grounded in the Gospels and in the Mystery who is Christ; both the Spiritual Exercises and the Liturgy of the Word, over time, offer an intimate encounter with Jesus of Nazareth—healing, teaching, sharing meals, welcoming sinners, going about doing good, spending the night in union with his Abba, gath-ering disciples and forming their hearts. We reflect on scripture passages, in retreat as at Mass, one after another, not in order to know the scriptures better but to discover ever more fully the One whom they disclose to us. During the Second Week of the Exercises, like Martha's sister, Mary, the retreatant sits at the feet of Jesus, the teacher, drawn to his person, absorbing his attitudes and values, his choices, his preaching of the dream of God for the world, for humankind, for each of us. The Second Week, of course, is not full only of the consolation of spending time with a dear friend. That 71.1 2012 15 dear friend of ours also reveals to us the cost of dis-cipleship, the misunderstandings, the disappointments, the gathering storm of criticism and anger. We take in the whole of the life of Jesus Christ and are drawn to know him more intimately, to love him more ardently, and to follow him more faithfully. We choose to be dis-ciples of the perfect disciple. Empowered by the love of God experienced in Week One and by Jesus' friendship, which deepens for us in Week Two, we choose an ever closer relationship with him, no matter what. Loved sin-ners become loving servants, embracing and following Jesus, setting our faces, with him, to Jerusalem. It has been written that during the Second Week "We find ourselves drinking in the experiences of Jesus, so that we begin to assimilate his values, his loves, his freedom. This style of praying provides the necessary content of decision-making or discernment, which forms an essential part of the Second Week and is meant to be an abiding part of a Christian's life that is shaped by the Exercises."2 Of course, those statements also describe a regu-lar pattern of solitary prayer in daily life that reaches its summit in the Eucharist. God speaks to our hearts, opening up for us the mystery of redemption and salva-tion and offering us spiritual nourishment; Christ him-self is present in the midst of the community through the Word proclaimed.3 The cycle of readings, highlighting first one evange-list's portrait of Christ and then another's in the three-year cycle, invites our reflection on the life and ministry of Jesus, his proclamation of the Good News, his say-ings and parables, his teachings and miracles, and, espe-cially during Lent and the triduum, how his face was set to Jerusalem during his last days on earth. The Gospel is the highpoint of the Liturgy of the Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 16 Word, and we mark it with various signs of reverence for the book and with the tracing of the cross on our forehead, lips, and breast, praying that our mind be opened, that our words be true, and that our whole being be exposed to the consolation and the challenge of a Gospel way of life. The homily follows. The General Instruction of the Roman Missal describes the homily as a necessary source of nourishment of the Christian life.4 In fact, for a majority of Christians it is often the only source of spir-itual nourishment in a busy week. The Second Week of the Exercises illuminates the challenge to those who give the homily in the Eucharist. The point of the hom-ily is identical to the grace sought in Week Two of the Exercises, namely, to enable the assembly to know Jesus more intimately, to love him more ardently and to follow him more faithfully. Nothing less! Not entertainment. Not exegesis. Not personal self-disclosure. Nothing less than knowing, loving, and following Christ, choosing his choices, becoming gradually and almost imperceptibly more like him, putting on his mind and heart. Just as one chooses discipleship at the end of Week Two, so too there is a choice at the end of the Liturgy of the Word. As we prepare to move from the Table of God's Word to the Table of the Lord's Supper, we join ourselves to Christ and ask that we too be transformed every bit as much as the bread and the wine, that we and they may become for us and for our world the Body and Blood of Christ. The Third Week and the Liturgy of the Eucharist The focus of Week Three is both the Last Supper and the Passion. So, too, these two themes are conflated in the Liturgy of the Eucharist: "the Sacrifice of the 71.1 2012 17 Cross and its sacramental renewal in the Mass, which Christ the Lord instituted at the Last Supper and com-manded the apostles to do in his memory, are one and the same, differing only in the manner of offering, and . . . consequently the Mass is at once a sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving, of propitiation and satisfaction."5 The first meditation of the Exercises in Week Three is on the Last Supper in its entirety—including the preparations, the choice of place, the arrangements for the meal, the assembling in the upper room, Christ's washing of the apostles' feet, the supper itself, Christ's giving of his body and blood in Eucharist as the ultimate expression of his love for them, and his final words, his last will and testament, that they continue this same action in his memory. Much of this finds a resonance in the Liturgy of the Eucharist. There is, of course, first the preparation of the table and the gifts, the preparation of the altar itself and then of the offerings of bread and wine. There is the washing of the hands of the presider, a ritual of cleansing and interior purification in readiness for all that will follow. There is the prayer over the gifts, a simple and focused petition—a second "prelude," if you will, asking in a variety of ways that the gifts we have placed on the table will become holy and that we our-selves will be caught up in this action and be made holy to the praise and glory of God. Then the great prayer of praise and thanksgiving, the Eucharistic Prayer, begins. We tell the story of Jesus' life, death, and rising. We enter into Christ's liturgy, the endless self-giving of Christ into the hands of the One he called Abba, from whom he receives back his life. Our worship is an offering of our whole selves with and in Christ to God. That is our participation in the paschal Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 18 mystery of Christ's obedience unto death, our identifica-tion with Christ in his radical obedience to God. Have you ever used one of the Eucharistic Prayers for your meditation during Week Three? The Eucharistic Prayer is addressed to God the Father. Could we not think of it as a colloquy with the One Jesus called Abba, our own intimate conversation with God, as we ponder the mystery of the Passion? By turns, the Eucharistic Prayer "collo-quy" offers thanksgiving to God for the whole work of salvation realized in Christ; it implores the action of God's transforming Spirit; it tells the story again of the night before Jesus died when he offered his body and blood, gave the apostles to eat and drink, and left them a command to perpetuate this mystery; it recalls the events that fol-lowed the supper, especially the blessed Passion of Christ together with his victory over sin and death; it makes an offering to God not only of the spotless victim but of our-selves so that day by day we might be perfected through Christ the mediator and be brought into unity with God and with each other when God may be all in all.6 It is a perfect prayer; it is a perfect condensed statement of what we believe and what we long for; it is a colloquy, if you will, that gathers up and gives expression to the faith of the community in Jesus' salvific death and rising and our par-ticipation in that mystery. There is no better word at the end of the Eucharistic Prayer, or at the end of our Third Week meditation on the Passion as we dwell in the silence of God, than the word "Amen." So be it. Week Four and the Communion and Concluding Rites We are ready for Week Four—Jesus' resurrection and his apparitions to his mother, to the women, to the disciples, to Mary in the garden. Always the message is 71.1 2012 19 the same: do not be afraid; peace be with you; go now and tell the good news; go now to feed my lambs. And as peace is the gift of the Risen One, we beg that same peace for the whole human family, and we ask for mutual love among ourselves. We approach the table of the Lord and receive the one Bread of Life, which is Christ who died and rose for the salva-tion of the world. Our Communion makes us one with the Risen Christ, and the last presidential prayer, the prayer after Communion, is a final "prelude"—a peti-tion that we might go forth and live, in deed, what we have just done in word and ritual action. "Please make this Communion take!" this prayer seems to beg. We become what we eat. Through the Communions of our lifetime we are gradually being transformed into God. We know that we ourselves and our world have been radically changed by Jesus' resurrection, and we embrace his commission to become the Heart of God on earth. In contemplating the love of God in the conclud-ing exercise of Week Four, we pray an intimate prayer of thanksgiving to the One who has shared his life so completely with us that we are filled with gratitude and with a desire to make a generous return of love. "Take, Lord, receive," we say, and in so doing we express our availability before God for whatever we will face, rely-ing simply and completely on God's grace. We know ourselves as blessed and sent. Thus far I have been developing the ways that the Eucharist and the Spiritual Exercises mirror and some-times illuminate aspects of each other. As a transition to the second part of this reflection, I suggest pausing over the words of the "Anima Christi" using David Fleming's translation. It was David who said that this prayer is a summary of the dynamics of the whole movement Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 20 of the Exercises, and he also described the prayer as a summary of the transformation wrought through the Eucharist. Jesus, may all that is you flow into me. May your body and blood be my food and drink. May your passion and death be my strength and life. Jesus, with you by my side enough has been given. May the shelter I seek be the shadow of your cross. Let me not run from the love which you offer, but hold me safe from the forces of evil. On each of my dyings shed your light and your love. Keep calling to me until that day comes, when, with your saints, I may praise you forever. Amen.7 Part II: Living the Eucharist David Fleming also called the "Anima Christi" a summary of the living of the Fourth Week in the everyday, so it is to that topic we turn, the living of the Eucharist. Many years ago I read a book by Gregory Dix called The Shape of the Liturgy, a very long, very erudite history of the Eucharist by an Anglican clergyman and liturgi-cal scholar. At the conclusion, around page seven hun-dred something, the author shifts from liturgical history, archeology, and philology to spirituality. He quotes the words of Jesus at the Last Supper, "Do this in memory of me," and then poses an intriguing question: Was ever another command so obeyed? Dix paints an extraordinary picture: Century after century, spreading slowly to every continent and country, to every race on earth, this action of Eucharist has been carried out in every conceivable human circumstance and for every conceivable human need, from the heights of 71.1 2012 21 power to places of poverty and need, for royalty at their crowning and for criminals going to the scaffold, for a bride and bridegroom in a little country church, for the wisdom for the Parliament of a mighty nation, for a sick old woman afraid to die, for Columbus setting out to discover the New World, for a barren couple hoping for a child, by an old monk on the fiftieth anniversary of his vows, and on and on. Dix lyrically enumerates these and scores of other instances in which the Christian com-munity has been faithful to Jesus' command, "Do this."8 Over the centuries the Eucharist has been celebrated by innumerable millions of entirely obscure faithful women and men like you and me, people with hopes and fears and joys and sorrows and sins and temptations and prayers every bit as vivid and alive as yours and mine are now. Week by week, on a hundred thousand succes-sive Sundays, faithfully, unfailingly, the followers of Jesus have done just this for the remembrance of him.9 This is an extraordinary picture of the sacrament that constitutes the community, of the event that binds us together, one with another and with Christians of every age, place, race, tongue, and way of life. The Eucharist has been like a wave of grace rolling over the community again and again across the centuries of Christendom, hollowing out spaces for the divine in the midst of the everyday. Was ever another command so obeyed? But after pondering Dix, I realized that when I con-sidered that Last Supper of Jesus and his friends, there was another question on my mind. When Jesus said "do this in remembrance of me," what did he mean by the this? Surely not just the Jewish pattern of the meal, though we know a lot about Jewish rituals, the blessing of bread, the number of cups, the style of blessing said over both. Surely the this is something more. What are Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 22 we being asked to do? to be? to embrace? to celebrate? What commitment do we make when we say "Amen"? Scripture supplies two directions toward an answer: one in the Synoptic accounts of the supper and Paul's First Letter to the Corinthians, and the other in the Gospel of John. Recall the words of Paul describing the Last Supper: I received from the Lord what I also delivered to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it, and said, "This is my body which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me." In the same way also the cup, after supper, saying, "This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me" (1 Cor 11:23-25). Do this in remembrance of me. But what is the this? Have you ever considered that the Last Supper was precisely that—it was the last. The Last Supper was the last of a whole series of Jesus' meals recorded in the Scriptures. Jesus never played the pious ascetic, keep-ing away from celebrations. He loved a good feast. He used that image of feasting as a metaphor of the reign of God—a great banquet. It was said of him, "This man is a glutton and a drunkard." An even more shocking accusa-tion was whispered behind his back: "This man sits down at table with sinners, with the morally dubious, with the outcasts of society, with those living on the fringes." On nearly every page of the Gospels there is a meal or a reference to food. Jesus calls out to Zacchaeus, "Get down from that tree. I'm coming to your house for What commitment do we make when we say "Amen"? 71.1 2012 23 lunch." There is the story of Simon who threw a din-ner party but was an inattentive host, and of the woman who slipped in to minister to Jesus as he sat at Simon's table. There is the story of Peter's mother-in-law who is cured only to get up and wait on them. There is the Syrophoenician woman who would not take no for an answer, who spoke about crumbs that fell from the table and who expected—and received—more than crumbs from this man. There are the feeding miracles that tell us something of the utter lavishness of the banquet and that everyone will receive enough and there will still be something left over for another day. There are parables of feasts, of great abundance, of jockeying for places at table, of appropriate attire, of filling the room with those drawn from the highways and the byways. Even the risen appearances of Jesus include meals. "Peace be with you," Jesus says. "What's for dinner?" On the shore, in the upper room, on the way to Emmaus, they recognize him in the breaking of the bread. How do you recognize someone? Even at a distance, you rec-ognize the timbre of a voice, or a particular gesture, or the slight tilt of the head so characteristic of an indi-vidual. The disciples recognized Jesus for what was most characteristic of him: the way he broke the bread. What is the this that we are to replicate? It is the whole life and ministry of Jesus at table. Scripture scholars refer to this as Jesus' ministry of table fellow-ship. To share food, in Semitic times, was to share life itself. And Jesus shared life with an astonishing assort-ment of people. Everyone was welcome to sit with him at table, to tell stories and to break the bread. Jesus' ministry of table fellowship is a ministry of universal reconciliation, no exceptions. The Last Supper reca-pitulated the attitudes and values of Jesus, who opened Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 24 his table and his heart to everyone, who offered hospi-tality to all, who was himself at home with all manner of people, who knew the human need for nourishment of body, mind, and spirit and who was always present to the other—welcoming, reconciling, offering life. Do this in memory of me. The Gospel of John offers a second answer to the question "What is the this?" In John there is a very dif-ferent institution narrative. It is the account of the foot washing. We know the story so well. Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, rose from supper, laid aside his garments, and girded himself with a towel. He poured water into a basin, and began to wash the disciples' feet, and to wipe them with the towel. Peter resisted this tenderness until Jesus pressed: "If I do not wash you, you have no part with me." Peter relented in typical Peter fashion: "Not my feet only but also my hands and my head!" When Jesus had com-pleted the washing and resumed his place, he said to them, "Do you know what I have done to you? You call me Teacher and Lord; and you are right, for so I am. If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another's feet. For I have given you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you" (Cf. Jn 13:1-15). You should do as I have done. In other words, "Do this in memory of me." I had an experience when I was studying at the University of Notre Dame that colors my understand-ing of the washing of the feet after the manner of Jesus. Notre Dame has a reputation for the excellence of its liturgical studies program and, at least when I was there, for the perfection of its liturgical celebrations: every 71.1 2012 25 minister rehearsed; every detail on a checklist; every liturgy perfect. And, during the sacred triduum, the lit-urgies were even more perfect! It was Holy Thursday and time for the foot washing. Twelve people moved forward, probably having prepared for the foot wash-ing by carefully washing their feet! Then, seemingly from nowhere, a very unkempt man started up the aisle, staggering a bit, perhaps under the weather. It was one of those stunning moments. Time stood still. Then the deacon walked down the aisle to help the man for-ward and assist him in taking off his shoes and socks. What is the this? Tender and loving care for the other; accepting our mutual vulnerabilities; choosing to open our hearts to all, even the one staggering into our life and upsetting its plans and perfections. Foot washing is not just a way of life but an attitude of heart, a kneeling before the other in reverence. Foot washing is embrac-ing a way of service after the manner of Jesus, simply, generously, not counting the cost. Do this: Embrace my attitudes and values as your own. Love those I love, and be my heart to them. Welcome the stranger, the one on the margins, the disenfranchised. Become vulnerable with one another. Kneel in reverence, especially before those whom soci-ety shuns. Nourish one another's bodies and spirits. Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep, both here at home and half a world away— those in Norway who are paralyzed by a massacre they Foot washing is not just a way of life but an attitude of heart, a kneeling before the other in reverence Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 26 could never have imagined, those who are starving from the drought in Africa, those who are terrified of nuclear contamination in Japan, those who are caught up in trafficking around the globe or denied asylum here at home, those who have lost the ones they love and all they owned in fire, flood, tornado, or earthquake. Make a habit of roaming the globe in prayer so that you do not remain distant from the joys and pain of the world. Send those waves of grace once again across continents and cultures to bathe our world in the love and mercy of Eucharist. Do this in memory of me. Conclusion Week Three invites us to experience the Last Supper, to place ourselves there in the upper room, to look around at the faces, to listen to the words, to pon-der them in our hearts as we watch the immense tender-ness of the Lord with those he loved even to the end, whose hearts he was tutoring even on the night before he died. And we have stayed with him, watched and prayed with him, and accompanied him as he gave up his life. Then we have simply dwelt in silence. That same intimacy and presence to one another marks Week Four, a time of tenderness and affection with the risen Jesus who shares his love and his joy with us but does not let us cling to him. He sends us as apostles, empowered by his Spirit, to continue his sav-ing presence, to be his heart on earth. And day by day, week by week, the Eucharist con-tinues to draw us into these mysteries. The heart of the Eucharist is Jesus Christ. The heart of it is the cel-ebration of Jesus' life, death, and rising every time we gather—and the merging of our daily living and dying with his and with one another—for the life of the world. 71.1 2012 27 The heart of it is joining ourselves to Christ, the perfect sacrifice, to the praise and glory of God. The heart of it is begging that the Spirit will transform each one of us just as really as the bread and wine so that we become more and more Christ's Body in truth, not just in name. The heart of it is learning over and over again to say "Amen" to all of these realities and—at least some-times— actually meaning it. Meaning "Amen," meaning yes I will try to live, in deed, in the coming days, what we have just enacted in word and ritual action. I conclude with a favorite reflection of mine on the word "Amen." Be careful of simple words said often. "Amen" makes demands like an unrelenting schoolmaster: fierce attention to all that is said; no apathy, no preoccupation, no prejudice permitted. "Amen": We are present. We are open. We hearken. We understand. Here we are; we are listening to your word. "Amen" makes demands like a signature on a dotted line: sober bond to all that goes before; no hesitation, no half-heartedness, no mental reservation allowed. "Amen": We support. We approve. We are of one mind. We promise. May this come to pass. So be it. Be careful when you say "Amen."10 Notes 1 Cf. Sunday Celebration of the Word and Hours (Ottawa: Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops, 1995). This book contains the Sunday collects prepared by the International Committee on English in the Liturgy for the Missal of 1998, since withdrawn. Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 28 2 David L. Fleming sj, "The Ignatian Spiritual Exercises: Understanding a Dynamic," in Notes on the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola (St. Louis: Review for Religious, 1981) 11. 3 General Instruction of the Roman Missal, 2003, §29, paraphrase. 4 GIRM, § 65. 5 GIRM, § 9. 6 GIRM, § 79. 7 David L. Fleming sj, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius. A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading. (St. Louis: The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1978) 3. 8 Gregory Dix, The Shape of the Liturgy (London: Dacre Press, 1945) 744-5, passim. 9 Ibid. paraphrase. 10 Barbara Schmich Searle, "Ritual Dialogue," Assembly 7:3, February, 1981. Obedience You have had my yes for years– and I have had yours since the sun, the seashells, and the storms at sea. But now, ah . . . you and I are more than yes. As time moves with, within, and around, this yes of ours takes on wings, takes on colors I never imagined, challenges that strengthen and soften me, glory that stills me, stirs me, extends and opens me. It becomes a murmur of love that we share. Love that frees me and compels me to choose you again and yet again . . . that I might respond as I wish to respond . . . openly, knowingly, even a little mysteriously . . . as the bush in the desert responded to flame. Kimberly M. King rscj 71.1 2012 ronald mercier 29 Without the Drama: The Transition from Third to Fourth Week of the Spiritual Exercises S travinsky's "Rite of Spring" caused a furor when it was first performed in 1913, but the more I listen to it, the more I think it expresses something important, and not only from a musical point of view. At the tail end of the piece, the "Sacrifice," Stravinsky tries to cap-ture the human spirit in its "pagan"—pure—form. You might want to find a recording of it and play it before you read further. Cacophony—there's no other way to describe it! Bad sound. It assaults the senses. It builds to a crescendo and with the violence of spirit that leads to the sacrifice of a human, a woman who dances herself to death for the Ronald Mercier sj is associate professor of theology at Saint Louis University and rector of the community where Jesuit scholastics pursue the study of philosophy and theology. This article was originally given as a keynote presentation at Ignatian Spirituality Conference V on July 22, 2011, in St. Louis, Missouri. Comments can be addressed to him at Bellarmine House of Studies; 3737 Westminster Place; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 30 sake of the community. It is violence that can kill and wound and send to hell, to use Ignatius's words from the Incarnation meditation. In the ballet that goes with the music, there is a frenetic dance that is almost a form of madness. No wonder people were so challenged by the music; this is not about some nice ethereal enjoyment, but is a revelation of what can shape the human heart and actions. This revelation opens to our fears but not to our hopes. Curiously, the music ends with a bang, a loud discor-dant chord that leaves us waiting for something more. We would like some kind of resolution at this point, but we are left with utter silence after that dramatic end. We wait, but the music just ends. Or does it? For me, this piece leads to a reflection on the transition from the Third to the Fourth Week in the Ignatian Exercises, a movement out of a murderous drama into a disorienting grand silence within which the Fourth Week dawns. I would like to invite you to sit with Ignatius in what we would name "Holy Saturday," a place he sketches as the space for contemplation within which we experience Resurrection. My thesis is simple: Without the grand silence of Holy Saturday, the "seventh day" for Ignatius, we do not experience the joy and freedom of the Fourth Week. Waiting in the transition—a transition into, not out of, emptiness—allows for creation of the space into which the Risen Lord comes, if we let the quiet ripen. The music of Stravinsky captures the movement of the Third Week, a drama of human making. We walk with Jesus as he experiences being sacrificed for "the good of the people." Curiously, Ignatius invites us to experience the Passion, but he does not describe the gore that would have been standard fare in the spiritual-ity of his time. No doubt he assumed that people knew 71.1 2012 31 the specifics of the passion, crucifixion, and death from the religious imagination of his time. I wonder, though, whether that is all. It strikes me that we are invited into two spaces: the fullness of the world upon which the Trinity gazes in the Incarnation mediation, but also the reality of the Trinity's desire effected through what happens in these moments. In this transition, we fulfill the movement of the Incarnation meditation. Ignatius certainly invites us to "consider what Christ our Lord suffers in His human nature . . . [and] to strive to grieve, be sad, and weep" (SpEx §195). We "must be with the Lord in his suffering, [and] follow him unto his death," lest we be "simply spectators at a Passion event which may be very touching, but which in no way dis-turbs the egotism of our lives,"1 as Gilles Cusson so nicely puts it. We experience with Jesus what human egotism can do, the dramatic clash that seeks sacrifice to maintain some order. Ignatius's contemplation of the Passion has little to do with Mel Gibson's hero worship; we con-template one who embraces utter powerlessness, not "muscular humanity." Yet, Cusson also says that we need to attend to Ignatius's Fifth Point, "how the divinity hides itself; . . . it could destroy . . . but does not do so" (SpEx §196). What is God about in Christ? What goes beyond the "work of our hands," the murderous sacrifice, and actu-ally effects the will of the Trinity? Is God violent? Is We contemplate one who embraces utter powerlessness, not "muscular humanity." Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 32 this the "divinity [who] hides"? Or is the violent god our god? What occurs when our dramatic violence ends? For me, personally and as a director, this question is never academic. The temptation to remain specta-tors or to wonder at the horrors of the Passion—and so to remain distant from it and from the Resurrection— always presents itself as a path of light, as "really feeling bad" for Jesus, and perhaps knowing real (even mur-derous) anger toward those who create perverse tor-tures for him. The experi-ence of the Fourth Week then somehow appears too remote, not surprisingly, and not only because by that time we know the exhaustion of having given ourselves so radically to prayer. But if we remain spectators of the Passion, what also becomes remote is the real joy of the Fourth Week, a joy so different from the transient happiness that we may whip up but never suffices for the long-term journey. And the Fourth Week is really for the long haul, not transient at all. What alternative remains? Consider for a moment where Ignatius leads us. As he did in the contemplation on the Incarnation, he places us with the work of the Trinity and with Mary. This gives us our transition point and deserves some pause. Notice how he frames our prayer at the end of the week, the time of transition: One should consider as frequently as possible . . . that the most Sacred Body of Christ our Lord remained If we remain spectators of the Passion, what also becomes remote is the real joy of the Fourth Week. 71.1 2012 33 separated from the soul, and the place and manner of his burial. Let [the exercitant] consider, likewise, the desolation of our Lady, her great sorrow and weariness, and also that of the disciples (SpEx §208, Seventh Day). Two dimensions frame the time after the death of Jesus on the cross, two movements that invite us into a depth within which resurrection happens: the experi-ence of death in Jesus and its impact on those (like us) who love him. Resurrection, Cusson rightly suggests, never becomes a topic for consideration, but encounters us in and through the one whom we love and who has conquered death, a "confirmation from above surpass-ing all human hope."2 Let us stay, though, for a moment with the two aspects Ignatius gives us not so much as a conclusion to the Third Week as the door through which the Third Week becomes, or opens to, the Fourth Week. We have in the Christian tradition a powerful sense that the Paschal Mystery—the death, coming to the dead, and Resurrection of the Lord—never constitutes the past, something complete and over, but, rather, remains the context of our lives, the place of our ministries, the space within which joy dawns for us and for all who know the Risen Lord. Two things, then, shape this contemplation, which really becomes the shape of "the seventh day," a con-templation of the Passion as a whole. First, Ignatius begs us to consider the fullness of the death of Jesus because, without an experience of that fullness, we really cannot complete the journey of the Third Week (and of the Incarnation) or comprehend the fullness of the ways in which Jesus' ministry touches and shapes our lives and our world. We need to ponder, prayerfully, what it Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 34 means for Jesus to "remain separated from his soul," to know death, not just to "be killed." Let me suggest that this consideration never rep-resents some thought exercise or parlor game. In our culture we often trivialize death and, in fact, avoid the topic completely or paper it over with euphemisms. We do not say that people die, but that they "pass away." We make the reality so antiseptic, so unreal, that we actually generate a fear of death that drives us even to try to con-trol it, like some unruly passion. Humans have always feared death, as the social critic Ernst Becker makes clear. In our modern North American culture, though, we have created a kind of nightmare; we rarely encoun-ter the reality of someone's dying. Even worse, people have to die not freely as Jesus did, but alone, caught up in our medicalized model. Alternatively, we can make death into a mere video game: how many can we kill? By contrast, Ignatius invites us to a thoroughgoing realism. In Jesus' death, we contemplate the fullness of his human death, freely embraced for us, the fullness of the trajectory of the Incarnation. We are invited to consider especially his embrace of abandonment. Hans Urs von Balthasar, the great Swiss theologian and pro-foundly Ignatian thinker, asks us to ponder just what this means, as a path toward hope: The Redeemer showed himself therefore as the only one who, going beyond the general experience of death, was able to measure the depths of that abyss.3 Think about that with me for just a moment. For Balthasar (and here he places himself in the whole strand of Christian mystics) we desire to shield our-selves from death. We may have "the general experience of death," but we seek to hold it at bay, often at great cost. No one wants to die, of course, and from time 71.1 2012 35 immemorial we have created lovely myths of "afterlife" as ways of avoiding the fullness of what we would expe-rience in death, so that we do not really die. Instead, Ignatius invites us, in the wake of the cry by which Jesus freely gives up his spirit and accepts death, to consider what it would mean for someone freely and fully to enter into the realm of Hades, of Sheol, in which, as the psalmist says, "no one can praise You." In Jesus, God goes fully to claim the reality of human death and dying as God's very own. Balthasar uses the image of the abyss—a wonderful image—for this. We need to ponder, not morosely but in faith, the full tra-jectory of the Third Week. Ignatius places us there and asks that during the Seventh Day—however long it might be—we continually call that reality to mind and keep it before us. He invites us there in place of repetitions or Applications of the Senses, because in pon-dering the fullness of the death of Jesus, in letting it "ripen to fullness," as it were, we begin to grasp the fullness of what it means that he dies for our sake, that he goes where we would not go. If, as David Fleming, John Futrell, John English and many others suggest, the Last Supper sets the tone for the Third Week, here we know what it means to "be broken and poured out," even to the fullness of death itself. We have been praying for the grace of freedom throughout the Exercises, and in a sense here we encounter freedom in its fullness. Balthasar notes what freedom—in its purest form, free from all stain of sin—would mean: "And precisely in that did his mortal anguish and God-abandonment differ radically from the habitual anxiety of the sinner." 4 Jesus freely—and with-out defense—walks the way ahead of us, embraces our path. Jesus claims the fullness of death as a space within Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 36 which to meet us—thus, the implication of the seventh-day exercise. We can—and do—often hurry by the real-ity, or simply marvel at the wreck of a corpse in the Pietà. Ignatius, according to Balthasar, invites us to let death be full, that we might know freedom with Christ, freedom for our mission ultimately, freedom to love "even to death itself." No masochism or delectatio morosa marks this moment, but only a profound invitation to explore what we fear with the One who has gone the way before us. For Ignatius, that remains key. If Resurrection cannot grasp the fullness of what death means, if it can-not meet us in the anxiety that would hold us bound and create the kind of craziness that marks our death-obsessed culture, it remains but a "nice idea," easily dis-pensed with, perhaps. For Balthasar, Jesus delves into death as abandonment, freely, without losing hope, but relying completely on the God who alone can overcome death. Imagine "separation of soul and body" in its totality, without the experience of Resurrection that often shields us. Jesus embraces that. This descent remains but part of the story for Ignatius, since he invites us to place ourselves with Mary and the disciples in their desolation—an impor-tant context. The imagery of that placement reveals a deliberate quality in two ways: it prepares us to encoun-ter the Risen Lord and accept our mission. In one sense, of course, we explore the same space as previously, explore what it means for Jesus to have died—but now from the perspectives of those left behind. Again, Ignatius invites us to contemplate with Mary—and to some extent with Mary Magdalene—to share space and time with women who also embrace the "empty space" without defense, freely. The sinlessness of Mary parallels Jesus' own condition, and invites us 71.1 2012 37 to imagine how she, whose heart knew only openness, would experience the "separation" of soul from body. In her once again, Ignatius asks us to confront death as death, in its fullness in Jesus, in one whom we pas-sionately love. While I will focus on the encounter with Mary, the mother of Jesus, as a basic form of the Resurrection con-templations, I do not mean to suggest that one must force people to engage that path. Eventually the pattern of the Exercises does lead us there, but as John English suggests in Spiritual Freedom,5 a directee may find it difficult to enter into the purity of Mary's openness to encounter the Risen Lord; a person may find more fruitful prayer with the grief of Mary Magdalene, or the guilt of Simon Peter, or others. Still, the fullness of that openness to the Risen Lord brings us back to the full "yes" of Mary, mother of Jesus, as a paradigm of freedom. We have probably all known a parent who has lost a beloved child. As I write this I cannot help but think of the parents of a young Chinese student who failed at university and chose suicide in the face of despair. I cannot begin to imagine the grief of soul such a moment would entail for those parents; nor can I imagine the added burden of feeling guilt for having laid on a child expectations that he could not fulfill. That empty space of a dead child shocks us; "it should not happen," we say quite rightly. Parents should die before their children do. The empty space becomes almost too much to take in, though with Michelangelo's Pietà we catch a glimpse of how a face might appear when gazing on that emptiness. Yet, for the director at this point in the Exercises, especially in the face of what happens in the transition, an important distinction remains. Monty Williams, in a work in progress that he shared with me, advises that we Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 38 note two different paths as one encounters fear, notably the fear of death. There are two ways of being present to our fears. We could look at them and wonder how we can be so stupid, and then make the plans . . . to ensure those mistakes never happen again. . . . The other way . . . is to experience the amazement. . . . The more we ponder . . . it, the more we are filled with a sense of wonder—which gives no answer. That wonder, that sense of amazement, is our first awareness of the presence of God in the space we have created by looking at our fears. As Williams frames it, two choices remain. We can panic and move into flight or analysis or simply an excess of emotions to make us feel better. Or we can be attentive, in the face of such fears, to an empty space without answers—a much harder place to be. When Ignatius invites us to contemplate, to recall Mary, all of those spaces we have known in the Second Week come to mind. Mary remains for us always the one who attends, who does not withdraw, even in the face of the horror of the slaughter of the innocents, but who pon-ders. The path of our entry into the Seventh Day parallels Mary's path, and a director looks at whether the exerci-tant gets caught up in his or her own pain or can ponder the empty space with Mary—that dreadful emptiness the church hints at in stripped altars and empty tabernacles after the Good Friday service. With Mary, we hear the invitation in freedom to know our beloved Jesus as dead. A terrible space, but not a maudlin one! We hear the call to compassion, to attentiveness, to let an empty space open. In essence, Michelangelo's Pietà invites us not to wild grieving but to face the reality of Mary holding her dead son. Attentiveness is a state of waiting, but for what? 71.1 2012 39 I can't help but remember Mary Oliver's powerful poem "The Uses of Sorrow," which captures so much of what I think Ignatius presents to us in constructing a place for prayer: (In my sleep I dreamed this poem) Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this, too, was a gift.6 The poem admirably catches the difference between panic/analysis and attentiveness as ways of responding to the human—and here divine—reality of death. For us the path takes time; Ignatius invites us on the seventh day to recall this to mind again and again, but the full process may well be the journey of our lives and our dying. However, contemplating the loss of Jesus is but one dimension. With Mary—and with the disciples—we are invited to ponder the world in which, as Cleopas said, "we had hoped" but which is now a space of desolation. We face the fullness of what Ignatius means when he invites the retreatant to see and consider the Three Divine Persons. . . . They look down upon the whole surface of the earth and behold all nations in great blindness, going down to death and descending into hell (SpEx §106). The reality of human violence is seen in its full-ness in this moment, especially when, with the disciples, we see that violence is also part of their lives—in their abandoning their Master. With Mary and them, the full brutality of violence in the name of God, yet murder-ous of God, comes home to us in all its savagery. No doubt they had seen or heard of crucifixion before. This Roman "tool" helped maintain fear in the populace by destroying its memory of the one killed, lest anyone else Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 40 attempt to do what the crucified one had done. We can all rationalize human cruelty to suit our purposes. Here, though, their Master, Lord, Mentor, the one who healed, raised from the dead, preached Good News—the one they loved—becomes the victim of such cruelty. With him, the hope he had proclaimed also becomes a victim, exactly as the Romans would have desired. Hope is too dangerous a drug to a people fac-ing death. Is the reality of what Cleopas proclaimed— that "we had hoped"—also dead? With Mary and the disciples, we gaze on the empty space in the wake of the cross, and we know the dying of our hopes, of the ways in which all of our plans and expectations go to the cross with Jesus. Our history, our world, hangs in that balance. As director, how often have I sat with people who, in the wake of Jesus' death and burial, have to encounter again their own history of violence—received, experienced in others, commit-ted! The call to attentiveness in this space where our wounded history is made so evident places the past and the future in the balance. If in the first movement with Jesus and Mary we know the fear before death, in this second movement perhaps we face the fear of living in a world mediated by violence, a violence that we can usually hold at bay or ignore by switching the televi-sion channel. Yet, in this transition place, we face the brokenness and "poured-out" quality of our world, and we hear the call not to stronger forms of violence or retribution but to attend in that quiet space and know the fullness of a hope that might have died too. So many people live in this space. It is not theoretical. So, for me, the power of Stravinsky's piece, build-ing to that awful crescendo, that cacophony of death, followed by nothing, silence, lies in wanting some reso- 71.1 2012 41 lution other than the sacrifice. He captures well what those first disciples must have been going through on their "seventh day," after the terrible dramatics of human violence, cruelty, power; now Mary and the others know an empty silence made all the more desolate by what had come before. Building better plans, creating monu-ments, assigning guilt or blame—all of these would have tempered the grief. Instead, we hear the invitation to silence, to attentiveness. It may be that real forgiveness, hope, and resurrection can occur only in such silence. Ignatius places us before those realities that so easily move us away from attentiveness—fear of death and fear of violence or rejection—as a space within which some-thing very different—freedom—can arise. This experience could well represent a kind of "downer" for us, but need it be so? The sense of the deaths we experience—whether the physical death that Jesus freely embraces or the death of our illusions about the world and our patterns of dealing with it—create, as it were, a wasteland, an emptiness before which we stand and pray with Mary and the disciples. Its all-encompassing nature seeks to enlarge our freedom by placing before us our fears. Facing the wasteland yields fruit not in darkness or desolation (though we do indeed pass through these) but, as Antonio Valentino noted in a Directory written in the first generation after the death of Ignatius, aims at perfection in prayer and work, holding always God before one's eyes with gentleness and consistency, and remembering God whenever we think, speak or act.7 If we are moving toward the Contemplatio here as a mode of engaging the world, then this transition that "clears the ground" can yield an abundant harvest. We are left waiting for God's action—not ours. Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 42 I do not use the imagery of "clearing ground" acci-dentally. I find myself touched by the way in which one deals with one sweep of contemplation, which clears, seeds, and bears fruit in ever deeper ways. Think through with me the extraordinary introduction to the Fourth Week that piggybacks on what we have seen. As Cusson mentions, when Ignatius presents the medita-tion on the first resurrection appearance (SpEx §299), he offers a first point, nothing else; the simplicity of the perspective shines through: "He appeared to the Virgin Mary." Ignatius sees no need for second or third points, as are given in all the other meditations. It is a unique tableau.8 Ignatius does complete the sweep from where we have been: His soul, likewise united with the divinity, descended into hell. There he sets free the souls of the just, then comes to the sepulcher, and rising appears in body and soul to His Blessed Mother (SpEx §219). We have before us the same matter as in the con-templations on "the seventh day" of the Third Week; the setting does not change. What happens arises from within where we find ourselves as we attend to the empty space at the end of the Third Week. Our entry into the Fourth Week comes not because we will our-selves to joy. Rather, in the space that death and vio-lence have laid waste, Resurrection dawns like light and, with it, love, joy, and hope as the fruit. We do not change spaces for Resurrection, for the Fourth Week; rather, we extend the Third until it bears fruit. As director, I cannot overemphasize how hard it is to keep people focused at this point; exhaustion has set in. The Fourth Week regularly gets short shrift, as does Resurrection in so much of Christian life; yet, as I pray with the transition from Third to Fourth Week, I 71.1 2012 43 realize how crucial that transition point is to our ability to be in and to serve a broken but risen world. Ignatius leads us to the "hell" which Jesus has entered freely and fully, with all those who have gone before—and with us eventually—and then moves to Mary, in her home and oratory, exactly the order that repeats the end of the Third Week. I would like to move in three points—Jesus' apparition to Mary, Jesus' rising "from the dead," and the gift of joy to a world that killed and can kill still. They are related, but quite distinct too. Think of how redolent Jesus' apparition is for Mary. Ignatius does not describe it much, except for a clear allusion. He asks us to "see the arrangement of . . . the place or house of our Lady. I will note its different parts, and also her room, her ora-tory, etc." (SpEx §220). In §103 we were asked "especially to see the house and room of our Lady." The parallelism is almost exact, and, of course, David Fleming in Like the Lightning alludes to the Annunciation contemplation.9 This is not pious drivel, as some are tempted to say; this really is a new Annunciation, but one that asks Mary—and us—to go on mission for the Trinity with the Risen Lord. After all the Sturm und Drang of the Third Week— the drama of our human violence and blood-lust, even the drama of the Last Supper that begins the Third This really is a new Annunciation, but one that asks Mary—and us— to go on mission for the Trinity with the Risen Lord. Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 44 Week—this dawn of the Fourth Week, of a new world, is so undra-matic. Mel Gibson would have a difficult time with it. We would be tempted to make it dramatic, and certainly the Miraflores altar-piece does so, with Jesus showing his wounds and with Mary por-trayed as quite the medieval lady. Ignatius's description, though, is so different. Certainly, as he notes in the fourth point, the "divinity here manifests itself so miraculously," though in the fifth point the man-ifestation is as the consoler, the one who brings joy in the glory of the Resurrection. What are we to make of the apparition as "con-soler"? By the way, Ignatius gives only this contemplation in the Fourth Week, though we find a number of other texts arranged from §299-312 (in the section on the Mysteries of Christ's Life), with an ever wider circle of people let in on the Resurrection. In the Fourth Week itself, one contemplation alone pre-cedes the Contemplatio, again with Mary. If we take a step back, Mary represents the free per-son who has tasted the fullness of the passage of Jesus, both into death and at the hands of a broken, murderous world. If the darkness that John evokes in the Gospel stands as a hallmark of the Passion, Mary knows that darkness fully. As we wait with her, we hear the invita-tion to know that darkness, to let our own hopes and dreams die, to recognize the fullness of what death, as God-forsakenness, means. Mary roots us in a barren 71.1 2012 45 landscape without familiar landmarks. Stark—not dra-matic. Quiet. As long as we cling to our own artifacts, the land remains cluttered, and we are unable to receive. In essence, Mary descends into a kind of hell as well, the fullness of the First Week's hell, which is not of her doing, but which is the fruit of the world we have created. The more I ponder and pray with these texts, however, the more they strike me as a new "Incarnation," but with a different order and intent. In the Incarnation medita-tion, we move from the work of God, who ponders the broken, murderous world and chooses to enter it, invit-ing Mary—and us—to share in the work of the Trinity here now. With Mary we have been placed in a God-less world, the fullness of hell. We gaze, we ponder with her, in the freedom of those who have elected to follow Jesus. Mary—and we—know what God's heart would have felt in the acute desire to set people free. We now move from the order of "this world" to an encounter with the Trinity as we know the fullness of the desire of the Trinity in the Incarnation prayer, now effected by the Risen Lord. Again, I want to stress the point: Ignatius places us with Mary as the archetype of the person of the Exercises, the free person. While in later contempla-tions we are indeed shown the rest of the Gospel story, here he asks us to share in the fullness of what freedom The Apparition to Mary Reverses the order of the Incarnation meditation From the Trinity To a Broken World To revelation of the Trinity From a Broken World Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 46 means, freedom at the intersection of our engagement with a broken world, and we wonder at the dawning of a world shot through with Resurrection. The transition of this time represents not a movement from Third Week to Fourth Week, as if we could leave the former behind as just a bad memory; rather, the transition is the on-going space of discipleship. We, like Mary, remain in a broken world, but the transition into the Fourth Week recasts the meaning of the world in a dramatic way, so that we can accept the call to serve a world still broken. Contemplation constitutes the basic hallmark of this freedom; the encounter with the Risen Lord that Ignatius sketches out occurs as an offer of new life in the midst of the contemplation of the fullness of death and sinful violence. These two elements of death and life form a diptych, as it were, for our lives and our prayer. We encounter here not merely the Risen Lord but, with Mary, the pattern of what we shall know as we await that ultimate coming of Christ to the world, and we receive a mission to act upon hope. Into that space, the risen Lord comes, not just as resuscitated—"I'm back"—but as a living proclamation of a new world, God's plan for the ultimate healing and completion of the world God so loves. From the broken world, we encounter the divinity made flesh again for us, but now glorified and risen. If Christ performs "the office of the consoler," as Ignatius says, this consolation does not simply cause a "feeling good" or even a happi-ness, but a revelation of a new world and the empower-ing invitation to dwell in that new world and extend it through time and space. That power is "joy." Joy in this case is not an affect, or even a spiri-tual movement, for Ignatius. In fact, he distinguishes between the two realities: 71.1 2012 47 as soon as I awake [I will] place before my mind the contemplation I am to enter upon, and then . . . strive to feel joy and happiness at the great joy and happi-ness of Christ our Lord (SpEx §229). Happiness we know as an affective movement, a passing reality; we feel happy when we experience cer-tain realities. We can know happiness but still be alien to joy, since happiness comes and goes, depending on the experience we feel. Happiness has an object, and in this case Ignatius does want us to evoke within ourselves the experience of happiness; the encounter becomes the cause of our happiness. Joy, however, pertains to a very different reality. Joy—and this is Christ's joy, of course, a gift of the Holy Spirit—intends not a movement of the heart, a feel-ing, but a disposition, a way of being; it is the hallmark of those who have encountered the risen Lord in the midst of surrounding darkness. Joy makes possible the freedom to go on mission into the Fourth Week—our ordinary time. That light dawns in the Resurrection, not apart from but in the midst of the darkness which Mary—and we—have known. G.K. Chesterton's lament about "joyless Christians" captures something very important here: Christianity satisfies suddenly and perfectly man's [sic] ancestral instinct for being the right way up; satisfies it supremely in this; that by its creed joy becomes something gigantic and sadness something special and small. The vault above us is not deaf because the universe is an idiot; the silence is not the heartless silence of an endless and aimless world.10 The joy we experience in the presence of the Risen Lord does not suddenly wipe away the reality of the grief we know at the experience of the brokenness of Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 48 the world and its impact on the vulnerable; rather, such joy places it all in context, allows us to see the world as it is, in the context of God's proclamation of new life and hope in Christ. The way Ignatius ends the Exercises with Mary and this twofold contempla-tion seems to suggest that this joy becomes our "new normal," what God intended in creation and effects through the Incarnation, ministry, and Passover of the Word. We often emphasize the continuity/discontinuity of the Risen Jesus; he is like but different. But is it not really also the world which is continuous/discontinu-ous? In a great line from "Lion in Winter," Eleanor of Aquitaine says, "In a world where carpenters get resur-rected, everything is possible." Exactly—and such is our hope and the cause of our joy. As contemplatives moved to action, we in the Ignatian tradition live in the intersection of the two parts of the diptych, of Holy Saturday and Easter, but with joy as the hinge, something into which we grow. The encounter with the Risen Lord in the midst of a broken world becomes the reality of our lives and a point of conversion into this "new world." In that respect, we are unlike Mary but more like the others who encounter the Lord in a gradual way, but who nevertheless grow into a joyful engagement with the world. However, we can-not separate this encounter from the work which serves life and just peace; we grow in joy and hope only if we place ourselves at the service of justice, as it were, as the thirty-second General Congregation of the Society of Jesus suggested. Yet, we are no longer simply disciples, but apostles, those sent as the Word was sent into the world, but now into a world transformed. This "new normal," a joyful realm, disorients in many ways. Please excuse me as I take a bit of a detour 71.1 2012 49 into a Byzantine theme, that of the "Harrowing of Hell," an ancient icon in the East that depicts a scene sketched by a homily from the second century. I ask you to pon-der it with me for just a few moments. We have here one particu-lar rendition of the icon, but a powerful one with three signifi-cant movements. One of these captures the Contemplation for the Fourth Week as given by Ignatius, namely that the Risen Lord sets free the souls of the just held bound before Christ's Resurrection. For Balthasar and oth-ers, this moment of encounter with the Risen Lord has become the deciding moment for them, the one in which heaven—and the second death—actually open. In that sense, we have a key moment of election again, a confirmation to "fol-low" but now in a different way—to eternal life for them. Yet this Risen Lord calls us to proclaim eternal life and freedom in this world. Second, and this evokes the reality of La Storta, the risen Christ carries the cross, but as a tool through which to break open the gates of Sheol. This Christ on mission invites us to the imagery of the Third Week, but now as a call to freedom, not to death or destruction. The order of the world is profoundly inverted here, and violence gives way to freedom. No wonder the thirty- Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 50 second General Congregation could so freely embrace being "under the banner of the cross" as a mode of identification. This rising Christ changes all the imag-ery of violence, death, and hopelessness we would have taken for granted. One finds joy even in the cross—how odd—but, again, joy is not simply a moment of happi-ness but a consistent mode of being. Again, we cannot separate encounter with the Risen Lord from presence to those who know Holy Saturday and its pain or loss of hope. Last, though, for the East—and for Ignatius, I think—the implications of this little icon and of the work of Christ show free-dom in an even bolder way. A second-century homily proclaims, "I did not create you to be held captive," as does the Office of Readings every Holy Saturday. Do we ponder, though, the implications of that little line, the heart of the link between the Third and Fourth Weeks? The dynamic of the Third Week—from the human point of view—reveals the inevitability of betrayal, duplicity, shame, violence, grief, blood-lust. Not an appetizing menu, to be sure. Ignatius would ask us to contemplate the recreated world in which such patterns have lost their power forever, not just for a moment; we know their power, but as something that has passed away, both from the world and from our lives. If a counterpart to the contemplation on the Incarnation in the Second Week is the Two Standards meditation, perhaps this "diptych" does something Joy is not simply a moment of happiness but a consistent mode of being. 71.1 2012 51 similar. In the Two Standards meditation, Satan calls his demons and "goads them on to lay snares for people and bind them with chains" (SpEx §142). Christ bids, attracts, graces, to a very different world, of poverty, bearing insult and humiliation freely as a means of free-dom (SpEx §146). We have seen that first standard lived to its full-est in the Third Week; now we see Christ who in his revealed divinity, as the fullness of the revelation of the Trinity, continues to serve, to free, to attract, to bid, but now as having conquered all freely and lovingly. Do we not know here the prospect of a whole new world unbound or in the process of unbinding, a process to which Christ missions us? Does Christ not call us in this contemplation with Mary to gather companions in the work of dwelling in this contemplative yet active space? The full import of what has been "the normal" becomes ever clearer to us, even as we enter more fully into com-panionship with Mary in this contemplation. The chal-lenge to us, however, never degenerates into hopeless self-scrutinizing or, even worse, scrupulosity. We do not get forced back into contemplating our sins, as too often happens when people gaze upon the cross, or into the violent guilt or shame of the Third Week. Rather, aware of the Third Week and its full impact on the one whom we love and on the world Christ so loves, we hear the invitation to explore contemplatively a dawning world, one which opens, I think, to the Contemplatio and to our role in extending Christ's joy. James Alison, the British Catholic theologian, has written movingly on this, inviting us to consider how our cultures shape our imaginations through the pat-terns of interaction—rivalistic patterns—which for us constitute "the normal." In Christ, and I think in Mary Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 52 and the disciples, God gives us a dramatically differ-ent pattern of interaction, one that creates relationships touched by joy, not by violence or rivalry or fear. In the complementary contemplations we are given through-out the Fourth Week, we encounter many such persons, wounded in and by the Third Week, even agents of the violence of the Third Week, with whom and in whom we now encounter the pattern of joy and hope. These reflections lead me to ponder the meaning of the "Rules for Thinking with the Church" (SpEx §352-370). They are usually given as a form of Counter- Reformation ecclesiology, a guide on how to engage the debates of the mid-sixteenth century. The text contains all kinds of very context-specific allusions—echoes of debates on predestination, sacraments, authority, and the like that helped tear the church apart. We realize that the inability to attend to what the other was saying represented but one more kind of violence in an already violent age. Ignatius, of course, never had shied away from a fight. One has only to remember how ready he was to dispatch the Moor who had shown insufficient defer-ence to the Blessed Virgin, his Lady. He certainly would not be the first choice as a poster boy for pacifism. Yet, think with me for a moment about the Rules, written at a time when everyone wanted a good fight and looked, all too often, for occasions to pick a fight or score a point. Ignatius's presentation strikes me as curious in that regard, strangely pacific, to use Alison's invitation to a radically different imagination, a con-version of imagination, where our normal expectation is no longer violence or the violent god but rather of a world ordered to and by peaceful relationships. We find here none of the grand drama of the instructions to 71.1 2012 53 the Cardinal Legates to the various Diets and Councils. Instead, we find a man desperate to preserve the unity of the community, to avoid the kinds of clashes that mark his age. Perhaps when we look at the Rules for Thinking with the Church, the metaphor that I have been using— of having had the earth scorched around us and entering a new world—could be helpful. We tend to bring with us the imagery and imagination to which we have grown accustomed. We bring the patterns of guilt or shame or blame or grief or violence that we have learned only too well from the world we have known as normal. Yet, the totality of the presence of the Risen Christ to Mary— and to us—challenges any return to those spaces to which we have grown accustomed. Certainly, if Christ has "harrowed hell" and broken dominant patterns, we are in need of "a way," of his way. Might not the Rules for Thinking with the Church be Ignatius's way of inviting us to turn from the slavish obedience so alien to the freedom of the Fourth Week and to become attentive to the community of people elected in grace, graced by Risen Life, empowered by saints, who could sketch out for us and for our imagi-nation a path with and to Christ? We stand in need of a community of faith, the Church militant in the original Spanish text, which can model for us the new life revealed in and through the Risen Lord. While the Rules invite a kind of docility in seeking a way of peace and renewal of imagination found in the community of the faithful, they do not require checking one's mind at the door. At times we can, like Ignatius, grieve because of a church that shows the marks of the violence and domination of those who killed the Lord. Nevertheless we wait in the hope of encountering Christ in this com- Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 54 munity, in the Holy Saturday-Easter Sunday diptych, still confident that we will contemplatively learn a way forward, not in spite of but in the pain. In a similar way, Ignatius needed the community to foster conversion out of scruples and into Christ. Still, a real encounter as is experienced in the tran-sition opens a path to community. Rooted in a new experience of the world, it is a community of peace, joy, hope, creativity. This, of course, has none of the "grand drama" of the Third Week that would thrill Mel Gibson, but it has the quiet quality of a son meeting a grieving mother who has been wounded by violence but, in joy, is experiencing the possibility of new life, the opening of heart and imagination. Quiet, not dramatic in the ways we are used to, but nonetheless a powerful and creative stance. The difference between the drama at the end of the Third Week and the quiet dawn of the Fourth invites us to know in its fullness what the Two Standards means and what Christ offers: not a crusade of our own, but an allowing of new possibilities to dawn in our age. We have seen such dawns, and their ecclesial power touches deeply. I think of Jean Vanier's L'Arche com-munity embracing the handicapped, those rejected by the world. There is the hospice movement, which rose from Dame Cecily Saunders's refusal to allow cancer patients for whom medical drama could do no more to simply go away and die. Those who serve refugees and bring a moment of tenderness and hope to fragile lives similarly stand at the confluence of this Paschal diptych. Easier, I suppose, would be to follow the temptation to take up arms and fight back or condemn, but we are invited to a very different path, not of moralism but of an embrace like that of Mary by her Son. 71.1 2012 55 We began this talk with Stravinsky's musical image of primal humanity and its lust for sacrifice, a lust that seeks "salvation for the people" in a woman condemned to die by dancing madly. The music crashes to a dra-matic conclusion followed by silence. I would like to end with a different dance, one described by Sydney Carter's words applied to the Shaker hymn "Simple Gifts," here the "Lord of the Dance." Perhaps this could evoke something of the transition to a dance that is joyous, inclusive, expansive. May this be our prayer and our path. I danced on a Friday when the sky turned black— It's hard to dance with the devil on your back. They buried my body, and they thought I'd gone, But I am the Dance, and I still go on. Dance, then, wherever you may be, I am the Lord of the Dance, said he, And I'll lead you all, wherever you may be, And I'll lead you all in the Dance, said he. They cut me down and I leapt up high; I am the life that'll never, never die; I'll live in you if you'll live in me— I am the Lord of the Dance, said he. Dance, then, wherever you may be, I am the Lord of the Dance, said he, And I'll lead you all, wherever you may be, And I'll lead you all in the Dance, said he. Notes 1 Gilles Cusson, Biblical Theology and the Spiritual Exercises (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1988), p. 299. 2 Cusson, p. 303. Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 56 3 Hans Urs von Balthasar, Mysterium Paschale: The Mystery of Easter (Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans, 1990), p. 168. 4 von Balthasar, p 169. 5 John English, Spiritual Freedom: From an Expertience of the Ignatian Exercises to the Art of Spiritual Direction (Guelph: Loyola House, 1973), p. 247. 6 Mary Oliver, Thirst (Boston: Beacon Press), p. 52. 7 Martin E. Palmer, S.J., On Giving the Spiritual Exercises: The Early Jesuit Manuscript Directories and the Official Directory of 1599 (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1996), p. 79. 8 Cusson, p. 303. 9 David L. Fleming, Like the Lightning: The Dynamics of the Ignatian Exercises (St Louis, Institute of Jesuit Sources, 2004), p. 77. 10 Gilbert K. Chesterton, Othodoxy (Garden City, NY: Image Books, 1959), p. 160. Questions for Reflection 1. Where have I embraced the emptiness of death and how has it enabled me to experience the joy of the Risen Lord? 2. Do you have any favorite music, artwork, or poetry that helps you enter into the sacred silence discussed in this article—or that helps you understand other moments in the Spiritual Exercises or in the Gospels? 71.1 2012 57 Dolor 5: At the Foot of the Cross Giving birth is contracting to sleep with death. It is an agreement to pass on everything that has been fed, fondled, fiercely treasured, looked forward to as one looks for the first hibiscus every spring. It is a signature and seal in pledge that one will leave someone something. It holds the possibility—tormenting as tarantula's tricks— that the loved child may pass first, cursedly, of illness, mishap, quick step in the wrong place, by fate or by murderous hatred heaped upon the great. The blood and wash of afterbirth foretell that every holding close lets loose. Small fingers, small toes enlarge as mothering bellies pull back to size and shape. Flowerings green up. They will, they must, brown down with wintering. And every footfall tells an end to every earthly good, each breath started with a slap, each name begun so well that slips into what's next. Pamela Smith sscm Review for Religious 58 peter j. schineller Finding or Seeking God in All Things: A Few Cautionary Notes "T o find God in all things" is a commonplace of Ignatian spirituality. Books and essays on Ignatius and Jesuit spirituality have highlighted the phrase as a hallmark of that spirituality. However, in an essay entitled "The Ignatian Charism and Contemporary Theology," the late Cardinal Avery Dulles wrote that "to the best of my knowledge the expression 'finding God in all things,' does not appear verbatim in the writ-ings of St. Ignatius."1 He admits that we do find "similar expressions" in the writings of Ignatius, and adds that "it seems evident that God can be found in all things." Dulles's observation makes me wonder and leads me to the unanswerable question of whether Ignatius deliberately avoided the phrase "find God in all things." Ignatius does write in many places that we should seek Peter J. Schineller sj is the archivist for the New York Province of the Society of Jesus. He resides at America House, 106 West 56th Street, New York, NY 10019. 59 71.1 2012 and serve God in all things; but, as we will see, except for one place, he does not use the phrase "find God in all things." Jerome Nadal, one of the early companions of Ignatius, clearly believed that Ignatius had the gift or charism to "feel the presence of God" and that this experience should likewise characterize Ignatius's fol-lowers. He writes: "I shall not fail to recall that grace which he had in all circumstances, while at work or in conversation, of feeling the presence of God and of tasting spiritual things, of being contemplative even in the midst of action: he used to interpret this as seeking God in all things."2 Note well that Nadal says Ignatius interpreted this experience as seeking God in all things. So too, Pedro Ribadeneira, also an early compan-ion of Ignatius, reports that "we frequently saw him taking the occasion of little things to lift his mind to God, who even in the smallest things is great. From seeing a plant, foliage, a leaf, a flower, any fruit, from the consideration of a little worm or any other animal, he raised himself above the heavens and penetrated the deepest thought."3 And, in the Autobiography of Ignatius, Luis da Camara, who wrote down the words of Ignatius, states: "At whatever time or hour he wanted to find God, he found Him."4 (To be precise, da Camara says that Ignatius could find God at all times, not that he found God in all things.) So we ask: might there be some wis-dom or insight—or caution—in the fact that Ignatius only once uses the phrase "find God in all things"? The Sole Text and Its Context In the long letter to Antonio Brandão subtitled "Instructions given by our father Ignatius, or at his Review for Religious Schineller • Finding or Seeking God in All Things 60 direction . . ." we read the advice given to scholastics: "the scholastics cannot engage in long meditations . . . they can practice seeking the presence of our Lord in all things; in their dealings with other people, their walking, seeing, tasting, hearing, understanding, and all our activities. For his Divine Majesty truly is in every-thing by his presence, power, and essence. This kind of meditation—finding God our Lord in everything—is easier than lifting ourselves up and laboriously making ourselves present to more abstracted divine realities."5 Again, a caution. This letter was not written by Ignatius, but at his direction by Juan de Polanco. Further, before he says "finding God in everything," he says the scholastics must "practice seeking the presence of our Lord in all things." Finding that presence is not auto-matic— and, perhaps, not so easy as we might think! In the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus, we read that Jesuit novices "should often be exhorted to seek God our Lord in all things . . . loving him in all crea-tures and all creatures in him" [§288]. Again, we see emphasis on the element of search. So too, in the Contemplation to Attain Love in the Spiritual Exercises, we read: "Here it will be to ask for an intimate knowledge of the many blessings received, that filled with gratitude for all, I may in all things love and serve the Divine Majesty" [SpEx §233]. Ignatius wants the retreatants to love and serve God in all; he does not write that they are to find God in all things. I wonder if the rea-son might be that Ignatius wishes to safeguard the Divine Majesty, the ever-greater God. Might it be that he fears that we will believe that we can capture or contain or iden-tify the ever-greater God in any one thing or in all things? In addition to frequently encouraging that we seek or serve God in all things, Ignatius does say that we 71.1 2012 61 can and must "find the will of God." Thus the Spiritual Exercises are a way of preparing the soul to rid itself of attachments and "of seeking and finding the will of God in the disposition of our life for the salvation of our soul" [SpEx §1]. And Ignatius most frequently ends his letters praying for the grace to "know God's most holy will and per-fectly fulfill it." Or, "may God in his goodness give us his abundant grace to know his most holy will and entirely to fulfill it." Even as Ignatius urges us to seek and find the will of God, he emphasizes the method and the search. He never claims that seeking and finding the will of God is easily done. It demands prayer, reflection, seeking, mortification, time, and effort. Today's Background, Context, Horizon In an obvious oversimplification, we might say that in our age we find two extreme tendencies: 1) the skepti-cal, secular way of underbelief and 2) the less critical way of overbelief. These correspond to two rival "isms" in our globalized world, spoken of by Fr. Adolfo Nicolás, supe-rior general of the Society of Jesus, in a major address on higher education: 1) an aggressive secularism and 2) a resurgence of various fundamentalisms.6 We might look at the cautious and critical way of Ignatius in light of these two tendencies. 1. The skeptical and secular viewpoint. Many today, including Christians, experience the distance, absence, Seeking and finding the will of God demands prayer, reflection, seeking, mortification, time, and effort. Review for Religious Schineller • Finding or Seeking God in All Things 62 or otherness of God. Rather than finding God in all things, they do not find God anywhere in their experi-ence. Or God is edged out by many possibilities, alter-natives, and options, by many "things" that are not God. They live in a world come of age that no longer "needs" God and are skeptical of those who find, describe, and talk of God so easily. They are critical of claims or interpretations that seem to make God into one thing among many. This objectification of God, they find, entails a loss of God's otherness and transcendence. 2. The less critical fundamentalism or overbelief. At the other extreme are the many believers who see God at work in every event. God is close and at hand. Some Christians seem to think they have a lock on God, clearly grasping and knowing the divine intentions and will for the world and for humankind. Statements to that effect indicate a temptation to reduce God to our size, to capture and lay hold of God. In a general way, two of today's thinkers reflect these two tendencies. The first is the critic George Steiner. In My Unwritten Books, a sequel to his book Real Presences, which points us to various signs of the transcendent, Steiner writes that he feels strongly the absence of God—a powerful experience of emptiness. "Awesome is the God who is not. . . . I strive to be with His sovereign absence."7 Steiner finds himself groping for and seeking God more than believing in and finding God. He adds that to be great, literature need not believe in or affirm God, but at least must grapple with the question of God, the search and debate over the reality of God. From an explicit Christian perspective, we might also listen to James Gustafson. In an article entitled "The Denial of God as God,"8 Gustafson writes that "the history of our religion is the history of human 71.1 2012 63 attempts to manage and manipulate the awesome power of God, who is finally beyond our capacities to know fully, to capture in human thoughts and deeds. . . . It is the history of efforts to control the times and places of his presence." Gustafson asserts that we overlook this awesome reality of God: "how we want a God we can manage, a God who comes when we beckon him, a God who permits us to say that he is here, but not there; a God who meets our needs on our terms; a God who supports our moral causes and destroys the forces we think are evil; a household God and a kitchen God." Then, drawing from the thought of Martin Luther, he challenges us not to try to manipulate or reduce God, but to "let God be God." Ignatius's Balance Surely Ignatius is not guilty of this reduction or denial of God. He had a strong sense of the immen-sity and majesty of God (he loved stargazing), as well as the closeness of God (recall his meditation on the Incarnation and birth of Jesus Christ in the Spiritual Exercises [§101-117]). But can this be said of all his followers? Might some be at times guilty of oversimpli-fying, reducing, identifying God with their own prefer-ences and thus not "letting God be God"? To put this more boldly; if we think it easy and pos-sible to find God in all things, might we end up by not finding the true God—the transcendent God—in or above any things? Emphasizing the finding of God in all things could become misleading and wrongheaded because it misses or misinterprets the special presence of God in some particular times, places, events, and things. Might this approach be similar to the positive emphasis on the generous and widespread presence and Review for Religious Schineller • Finding or Seeking God in All Things 64 offering of God's grace to all persons. If that view, good in itself, is pushed to the extreme, if all is grace, then we no longer distinguish between grace and non-grace, between grace and nature. Or, if all ground is seen as holy ground, then we might overlook or undercut the special presence or intervention, the special rev-elation of God. If we hold that everything i s sacred and noth-ing is profane or secular, then we could also hold the reverse, that nothing is sacred. Ultimately, it seems important and necessary that we maintain the distinction (not separation) of sacred and secular, of grace and nature, of the God who is in all things and yet above all things. Ignatius also writes of one other thing that Jesuits should seek in all things—namely, greater abnegation and continual mortification! "The better to arrive at this degree of perfection which is so precious in the spiritual life, [the] chief and most earnest endeavor [of the Jesuit candidate and those in formation] should be to seek in our Lord his greater abnegation and continual mortifica-tion in all things possible; and our endeavor should be to help him in those things to the extent that our Lord gives us his grace, for his greater praise and glory" [General Examen of the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus, §103]. While the seeking of mortification does not pre- If we think it easy and possible to find God in all things, might we end up by not finding the true God— the transcendent God— in or above any things? 71.1 2012 65 clude the effort to seek, find, and serve God in all things, surely it derives from a very different, and more sober perspective. It offers a balance to an overly posi-tive, totally one-sided incarnational spirituality. Ignatius is reminding us that the God or Christ that we seek and serve in all things is the Christ of the cross (abnega-tion and mortification) as well as the Christ of glory who comes with power. Thus Ignatius can write regard-ing the qualifications of the rector of a college, that he should "be a man of great example, edification and mortification of all his evil inclinations" [Constitutions, §423]. The ideal superior is one who both practices mortification and seeks to find God in all things! Living with and Maintaining the Tension Deus Semper Major—God Ever Greater—is the title of the monumental work of Erich Pryzwara sj on Ignatius of Loyola.9 The God of Ignatius, the God we seek, find, love, and serve is ever greater, always more. God is in all, but also always above all. Ignatius had the ability to keep seemingly opposing tensions or ten-dencies in view—prayer and action, contemplation and action, the local and the universal, trust in God and trust in our talents and efforts, and obedience and free-dom. In these reflections we are pointing to 1) the ten-sion between the God in all things, and the God above all things and 2) the possible tension between seeking God in all things, and finding God in all things. It seems best and most creative to hold on to both elements of these two tensions and not eliminate one or the other. In one tension we hold that God is in and also above all things: incarnate, indwelling, working in the world, and yet, in keeping with the fourth part of the Contemplation to Attain the Love of God, above Review for Religious Schineller • Finding or Seeking God in All Things 66 and beyond, the source of all. In the second tension, we maintain both the seeking for and the finding of God. St. Augustine writes that we would not seek God unless we had already found (and been found by) God. So I am simply suggesting that rather than conflate the two, or eliminate one or the other, we place a bit more emphasis on the seeking and searching, and less on the finding, in accord with Deut. 4:29: "from there you will seek the Lord your God, and you will find him if you search after him with all your heart and soul." A Caution and a Challenge Does this mean we should not use the phrase "find-ing God in all things"? No. It is in common use and does reflect the way Ignatius was interpreted by his contem-poraries even if Ignatius was normally reticent in using it. At the same time, we should use the words carefully and with awe, recalling that God is always greater and beyond. We dare not think we have captured God. We can preserve and use "finding God in all things" if we emphasize the search, the process, the prayerful effort of trying to find God in places and events around us. Two final cautions: Meister Eckhart said that "Foolish people deem that they should look upon God as though he stood there and they here. It is not thus." God is ever greater, ever here, and ever beyond. We might recall, too, the words of Fr. John Courtney Murray when he saw a poster to be used at a demonstration. Expressing the spirit of the times and a commitment to faith and justice, the poster read: "God Is Other People!" Murray is reported to have said "They forgot the comma after the word 'other.' It should read: 'God is Other, People!' " Probably the strongest challenge now is to seek and find God in the cities, in the world of technology and 71.1 2012 67 computers. We should not seek to find God only in sun-sets and stars and in the least of the sisters and broth-ers, but also amid skyscrapers and elevators, amid steel and concrete buildings, amid asphalt streets, on subways and in airplanes—wherever God seems to be edged out, overlooked, or denied. If the challenge seems daunting, we might be consoled by the words St. Augustine attri-butes to God: "you would not search for me unless you had already found me." And, we might add, we would not search for God "unless God had already found us." Notes 1 Avery Dulles sj, "The Ignatian Charism and Contemporary Theology." America (26 April 1997): 16. 2 Monumenta Historica Societatis Iesu, Mon. Nadal, iv, 651. 3 Monumenta Historica Societatis Iesu, Vita Ignatii Loyolae, in Fontes Narrativi, iv, 742. 4 Ignatius of Loyola, Autobiography, §99. 5 Ignatius of Loyola: Letters and Instructions, (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 2006), p. 342. 6 Adolfo Nicolás sj, "Challenges to Jesuit Higher Education Today." Conversations on Jesuit Higher Education 40 (Fall 2011): 9. 7 George Steiner, My Unwritten Books, (New York: New Directions Books, 2008), p. 209. 8 James Gustafson, "The Denial of God as God." Criterion (Autumn 1977): 6-9. 9 Erich Przywara sj, Deus Semper Major: Theologie der Exercitien (Freiburg im Breisgau: Herder, 1940). Review for Religious 68 In Distressing Disguise for Agnes Gonxha Bejaxhiu he's a lonely old man dandruff dusts his faded black shirt some polyester blend shiny, holding odors of sweat and cigarettes and left-overs some of which remains on the front of his trousers the purple around his neck shabby, soiled, worn-out even burned a little in one place careless as he is with his smokes over my head his palsied hand trembles and to my ears come mumbled words of grace while my heart strains to see Him, to see His true face, here before me in distressing disguise. Sean Kinsella Winter Sunset At exactly five-fifteen p.m. the over-ripe sun paused a second on the town's rim, all the horizon's color sealed in its neon pulp. I could hardly stop gazing, sure it would burst and spill red-orange juice, winter's redemptive blood, across the Western sky. Patricia Schnapp rsm The Warmth, the Will, and the Way The dilemma is that I am not making very steady progress on my spiritual journey. This leads me to think that I need more consistency. Since I already live "a stable way of life" as a member of a religious order, my basic direc-tion is set. I see that this way of life is leading me where the deepest currents of my heart want me to go. But despite that general clar-ity of direction, I find myself dawdling along, sometimes going backwards, often wandering off to explore some curiosity, rarely totally focused on the path, much less on the goal, of this particular journey on which the Way is also the End. We often pray that the Holy Spirit will fill our hearts and "enkindle in them the fire" of 71.1 2012 sharing experi-ence 69 ben harrison Ben Harrison mc is a Missionaries of Charity Brother. He has worked in formation and has journeyed, in the U.S. and Europe, alongside homeless people, prisoners, addicts, and other people on the margins of society. His email is . Review for Religious Harrison • The Warmth, the Will, and the Way 70 his love. Once on a retreat I was complaining to the director that I didn't feel any sense of God's presence, and he assured me that I wouldn't be feeling the absence if there weren't a kind of presence; the longing itself was a sign of the Spirit's presence. If I could welcome that longing as a warming presence rather than endure it as a chilling absence, it would help to enkindle the fire of his love. When I speak of this warmth of heart I am not talk-ing about seeking emotional experiences in prayer but rather of finding that sense of inner presence that is so important in the prayer of Eastern Christianity. My mind and the actions it inspires range all over the place, but if I am attentive to that warmth in my heart, the inner pres-ence not only influences my thoughts and feelings but also anchors my actions and desires. This sense of warmth, then, helps me to be more consistent on my spiritual way. I frequently have very good insights, and for a long time I thought that they could keep me centered. I often thought, "Oh, what a brilliant idea! If I can only remember that every day, I will be set for life." And so I would make a note and stick it on the door, or I would write a prayer and say it every morning, until it became so routine that what I was saying didn't even register. Soon I would have another brilliant insight with life-changing potential. Such thoughts are like matches that provide real fire, but only for a few minutes. Then, unless the match is touched to a candle or to a heap of kindling, it is spent. I need something more reliable than insights. I need something more reliable than insights. 71.1 2012 71 Perhaps the secret is to do what would be done in a cottage in the woods: continually add fuel to the fire, a log at a time, to keep it burning. Then, late at night, bank the coals, rake them together in a little pile so that the heat will not dissipate. A few glowing embers will remain in the morning, upon which new kindling can be placed and fresh wood arranged so all is ready to warm the beginnings of the new day. That way the hearth never grows cold. I am discovering that this warmth of heart is a sign of the Spirit's presence with me, abiding in me, direct-ing me toward the goal. But there is something else that seems to be essential in order to deepen that presence and strengthen God's claim on me—what I would call will. The desire is there: the forward impulse, the yearn-ing for the heights, the longing to surrender my being to the One Who Is. What is the difference between this desire and will? To wish for something is to entertain a desire for it; to want it is to own that desire; to will it is to act on that desire, to put it into operation. Will has about it an element of determination. And it is not something I can drum up within myself. It has to be given. St. Paul says, "work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; for God is at work in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure" (Phil 2:12-13). Will and the Vows As I think about my vocation, I would say that my will is expressed, above all, by the vows. My vows are the way I demonstrate to myself, to God, and to oth-ers this desire to belong totally to him. The Latin verb for will is volo, velle, and the Latin verb voveo, vovere means vow or wish. Though etymologically the roots of volo and voveo do not seem to be related, there is, Review for Religious Harrison • The Warmth, the Will, and the Way 72 to my mind, a consonance of meaning. The vows of religious life are a way of making concrete the double-edged desire that is God's desire for me, expressed in a call—a word spoken silently in the heart—that awakens a reciprocating desire in me. His desire to give himself completely to me sets that very same flame alight in me so that I desire to give myself irrevocably to him. The gentle fire of the Spirit's warmth that God enkindles in my heart is drawing me, slowly but surely, toward the blazing glory at the heart of God, and my vows repre-sent the power of that attraction and my determination by God's grace to reach that goal. I see the vows of religious life as the embodiment and expression of the will to be united with God and to give myself to him totally in a particular context, in response to his gift of himself to us in Christ. This is so whether we are speaking of the monastic vows of obedi-ence, stability, and conversion of life or the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience (or, for that matter, similar sets of vows or promises: those of priest-hood or sacramental marriage, of virginity or service, of oblate-hood or lay association). From primitive times a vow was a solemn promise to make some gift or sacrifice to a divinity as an earnest of a good requested or in thanksgiving for a boon received. Although on a literal level this sounds like a type of bargaining or commerce, I can also see it as a way of demonstrating to myself and my God how important something is to me, how sincerely I desire it, how des-perately I need it, how serious my intentions are. The medieval king might have prayed, "Lord, defend us from the threat of these brutal enemies and I will build a church for your glory." Or a mother may pray, "Lord, if you spare my daughter from this dread disease, 71.1 2012 73 I will do everything I can to support research for its cure." Or a widow may say, as one I know did, "Lord, if I am spared from this condition leading to blindness, I will never use my eyes to take pleasure in what is not good and pure." Thus we see how a vow is an expression of a wish for some good for oneself or others. The Italian word for such a commitment is impegno, which can be translated as "pledge." Literally, some-thing given in pegno is pawned. By the vows I am putting the treasure of my earthly life in pledge for a higher good. I am putting my security, my posterity, and my liberty in pawn for something I need more urgently. What is it, in this case, that I need so urgently? I need the grace to live up to this persistent impulse to give myself—an impulse that God has placed in my heart. I know that the faith, hope, and love in me are too weak and faltering to do the job, to get me where I yearn to go. And so I pledge what I have to him and entrust my poor being to him, not to pay him for what he freely gives, but to show him (and myself) that I am serious about following him and that I trust him with this pre-cious but paltry gift of my life, trust that he will keep it safe and see it redeemed and restored in his own time. Pledging my life to him, I am confident that he will give me the grace I need to live each day. In the world of commerce, one pawns something of value for ready money—something that has value but is not spendable, for something that can be spent. The ready cash makes it possible to buy what is needed today. Another word for this ready cash is currency, also called fluid or liquid assets. All these words—"current," "fluid," "liquid"— suggest an action of flowing and remind us of the Spirit, that spring of living water that flows forth from the heart of Christ. Review for Religious Harrison • The Warmth, the Will, and the Way 74 Thus, when I make my profession of vows, I am proclaiming my faith in God and my desire to belong to him. The vows that I pronounce represent the totality of my gift of self. In the institute to which I belong, we profess the evangelical counsels—the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. These three vows are an apt symbol of the totality of my life. By dedicating to God all that I have, all that I love, and all my choices and decisions now and in the future, I am effectively giv-ing him all I am. This triad of the evangelical counsels reflects a totality of being, as do many similar triads. I have no trouble, for example, in seeing parallels between the vows and St. Ignatius's prayer surrender-ing "my memory, my understanding, my entire will." The traditional baptismal formula asks us to renounce "the world, the flesh, and the devil." Scripture tells us that we are to love God with our whole heart, soul, and mind (Mt 22:37). The magi brought the treasures of the nations—gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Micah tells us that our sole obligation is "to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God" (Mi 6:8). It is easy to see how the three evangelical counsels reflect the three theological gifts of faith, hope, and love. And finally, without putting too fine a point on the comparison, I suggest that the vow of poverty is descriptive of my relationship with the Father, without whom I am nothing and have nothing; chastity reflects my relationship with the Word, the Son, who is friend, Savior, and Bridegroom of souls; and obedience is the domain of the Spirit, who prompts the content of obe-dience and makes possible its practice. The act of making vows is thus a statement of my desire to surrender myself absolutely to the Absolute, to dedicate myself to his way and consecrate myself to his 71.1 2012 75 purpose. The mutuality of giving to which God invites me does not mean a mere absorption in each other. Though I would be content to lose myself in God, he seems to want more for me than that. God wants me to share his love for others and so, by my self-offering, he unites me to his own mission—his out-pouring, in-gathering action of universal love. Thus I am given to the particular apostolates and ministries of the institute in which I live my vocation. Sometimes vows are spoken of as sacred bonds. Bonds are something that we feel gripping us, holding or securing us. If bonds are involuntary we feel them as a constraint, an injustice. If they are desired, we feel them as a comfort, a belong-ing, an embrace. I suppose anyone who makes vows feels them sometimes as a restriction and some-times as a liberation. But part of the radi-cal nature of such a commitment is the protestation that one is willing to pay the price, that one values the liberation of giving oneself more than the security of having oneself. It is a recognition that dying to self is the road to life and that the cross shared is the victory won. Like the fox in Antoine de Saint-Exupéry's The Little Prince, I want nothing more than for the Little Prince to tame me, so that "the wheat, which is golden [like your hair], will remind me of you. And I'll love the sound of the wind in the wheat." The act of making vows is a statement of my desire to surrender myself absolutely to the Absolute. Review for Religious Harrison • The Warmth, the Will, and the Way 76 Consistency in the Way Returning, then, to my original point, I am saying that two things will help me to find a salutary consis-tency in my spiritual journey: the abiding warmth of the Spirit's presence in my heart, and the will—the determination—to yield to the relentless attraction of Jesus drawing me, and all, to himself. God's love for me in Christ arouses a reciprocating love in me. I give my poor self to him in pledge, not because I have to but because I want to, and he gives me, in return, the wherewithal to make the journey: the daily bread, the water from the rock, and the yearning for home—for the harbor—at the heart of God. Perhaps the greatest indication of his love that God has given me, from my point of view, is not his love itself for me (of which I can scarcely conceive) but my love for him, which is a sweet hunger, a soothing need. Nor is my love for him something that I can claim or that I often feel, but rather an occasional glimpse of light; a fitful melting of joy; a momentary, faint intima-tion of promised ecstasy. It is to the memory of those rare moments of tender quickening, of nostalgia for the unknown, that my will clings during the long periods of dryness, confusion, and loss. It is will that keeps me walking on the way when even the cherished memory fades and all I have left to fall back on is the Spirit's quiet presence in my heart. Indeed, it is all up to God. It is he who supports the journey from behind with his warm abiding. It is he who lures me from ahead through that hunger in my heart. And it is he who strengthens me on the way by the will to journey on. Each day's reminder of that will at work in me is the comforting burden of the vows, by which I experience within myself the debt of love, the 71.1 2012 77 yoke of gratitude, the claim of oneness by which I know that I am his. Being as I am, the fact that I do not manage to live my vows wholeheartedly is not surprising. But it is important that I feel the rub and the pinch and the chafe of them against my stubborn self. As my need and desire for God become stronger than all lesser needs and desires, so the bonds of my belonging to him will grow stronger than all my resistances. At the point that I can give myself without reserve, I will be free. And how do I dare to think that I will reach that point? St. Paul tells us that if God has gone so far as to give his Son for us, "will he not also give us all things with him?" (Rom 8:32). And Paul says further, "I am sure that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ" (Phil 1:6). I trust that God would not have put this desire in my heart, and that of my companions on the way, if he didn't intend to give us the grace to see it through. Home Walking the Labyrinth at Chartres Home. Is it where I begin or end or at the middle stillpoint? Am I at home on the way? Here I am, Lord. Never far from the beginning always approaching the end continually circling the center. Eugene Cartier Review for Religious Getting with the Program P robably one of the most important graces of my novitiate was coming to realize that I had an addiction. It was a painful and embarrassing experience, and yet I have no doubt that it was the best thing that has happened to me in a number of years. During my novitiate I started accessing pornogra-phy online. It was a development I was so ashamed of that I was afraid it would herald the end of my journey into religious life. Previously I had bought magazines and sought out sexually stimulating images in films or through image search engines on the Internet. My behavior began to take root at an early age in romantic fantasy. I would fantasize about being with a girl and wooing her in some exotic setting. Even though I was sexually inexperienced and naive and did not know what adults did together between the sheets, I would some-times escape into this fantasy when I went to bed. 78 A young man writes of his experience of coming to terms during the novitiate with his addiction to pornography. He has requested that the article be published anonym

Issue 69.3 of the Review for Religious, 2010. ; ANew Chal!en~e Models of Spi~rituali, ty Liv, ing Religious Li£e ' Foliow~ing Christ QUARTERLY 69.3 2010 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope' Paul Vl said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih reviewrfr@gmail.com ¯Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2010 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ~ gournalof Ca~ho~c ~piri~ua~y rel Editor Associate Editor Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Paul Coutinho SJ Martin Erspamer OSB' Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 69.3 2010 contents prisms 228 Prisms 230 238 a new challenge ~ Koinonia and the Church in the Digital Age Daniel P. Horan OFM reflects on the role technology currently plays in both supporting and challenging Christians in their fellowship (koinonia) as church. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Hear and Far Hedwig Lewis SJ probes the inclusive meaning and reach of frontiers for spiritual enhancement and effective ministry. The term frontiers, contained in Decree Three of the 35th General Congregation of the Society of Jesus has gained popularity among many religious. 226] 255 268 models of spirituality ~ Elizabeth Seton's Spirituality of the Cross Judith Metz SC explores a central element of St. Elizabeth Seton's spirituality: her realization of the importance of losing her life for the sake of living in closer union with Christ. A Rare Humility and a Future-Facing Myth Avis Clendenen finds in an aging sister's simple tale a vision of the humility that our dangerously narcissistic culture seriously needs. Review for Religious 281 297 living religious life Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice Robert Nogosek CSC proposes that in order for religious life to be authentic discipleship it demands of us an ongoing reevaluation of what is required to be a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God. Coping with the Genuinely Difficult Religious Jeffrey Mickler SSP brings together some observations and practical suggestions on how to deal with problematic religious. 3O9 316 following Christ The Liturgical Year: History or Mystery? John M. Samaha SM examines the movement of the liturgical year in order that we might enter more fully into this time of grace. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion Discipleship and Clinging to God Damian C. Ilodigwe writes on how letting go opens us to true discipleship, and we are invited to detach ourselves from wayward affections in order to attach ourselves to God. departments 324 Scripture Scope: Reading and Understanding the Prophets 328 Book Review 227 69.3 2010 prisms 228 In the middle months of a secular calendar year, we find ourselves in what is identified as "ordinary time" in the church's liturgical year. As we likely have been told many times, the liturgical "ordinary time" refers to a way of counting (the Latin word ordo meaning "an ordering") the Sundays from one to thirty-four. These are the Sundays that are outside of the special seasons of Advent and Christmas, Lent and Easter. Yet for us Christians, there is a kind of lovely paradox in living within what we call the "liturgical season of ordinary time." While in many ways it may seem that all time is ordi-nary (since time is always countable), in other ways we can view all time as rather extraordi-nary. The ordinariness of time is caught up in our usual round of family or community life, of work and recreation, of the accustomed interaction of friends, neighbors, and fellow-workers. Some people try to break out of the day-to-day routine by deliberately scheduling in a special time for a dinner out, a day-trip to an unfamiliar town, or a different recreational activity such as biking or bowling. Review for Religious A number of people find each day an adventure and cannot imagine that there are some who would call life ordinary. These people find a newness in the chang-ing weather of this day, in the surprising interactions with their own children or friends, and even in the mes-sages of the mail, the internet, and the iphone. They have retained a certain childlikeness that retains a won-der,. about life in all its forms. For them life is not so much ordinal, that is, "countable," as it is caught up in "moments" that have no countable passage. For exam-ple, moments of insight and moments of being inflamed by love--spiritually identified as consolations--are truly beyond the countable. We Christians are blessed and graced to recognize these kinds of "moments" in prayer during which we feel caught up outside of time in our relationship with God. Surely it does not happen all the time; in fact, the "ordinary" is our "slugging away" at our prayer time. We can also know these moments when we are engaged in our various times of joy, happiness, and love. The wonder of it all is that these moments for us--those who are caught in finding life ordinary and those who are gifted to live in wonder--are actually moments that happen in the ordinary course of our daily living. Perhaps that is why it is important for us to enter fully into the paradox of our church's liturgical season of ordinary rime. There i~ the reality of the ordinary and there is also the reality of the moment. The church's liturgical year reminds us that God is always present to us both in the ordinary and in the moment. We need only to pray each day of our liturgical year to be gr.aced with the gratitude that finds God in all times and places. David L. Fleming sJ 69.3 2010 a new DANIEL P. HORAN challenge 2301 Koinonia and the Church in the Digital Age If Jesus had been born in 1980 and began his public ministry in 2010, would he have "friended" the twelve apostles on Facebook instead of visiting the Sea of Galilee? While this question might at first seem comical, it reflects concern about how the church as the Christian community relates to the world in which it exists today. The world is very different from the world of Jesus' ministry. The way many people experience interpersonal communication, develop and maintain relation-ships, and share information is strikingly dif-ferent from the ways of previous generations. In an era marked by advances in technology, communication, and virtual space, we must be attentive to how much our church community is being influenced or shaped by its new envi-ronment. To understand some of these matters Daniel P. Horan .OFM has written on Franciscan the-ology, philosophy, and spirituality. He writes from Holy Name College; 1650 Saint Camillus Drive; Silver Spring, Maryland 20903. Review for Religious in what we may call the "digital age," we must look first at what unites us in faith and then at how our changing world affects that unity. What Is Koinonia? Early in the Acts of the Apostles, we are told that members of the nascent Christian community "devoted thems'elves to the apostles' teaching and fellowship (koinonia), to the breaking of bread and the prayers" (Ac 2:42). In Greek, koinonia was one of the marks of Christian identity, but what does it mean? It literally means "communal-ness" (community, communion, "in common") and thus fellowship. In the Christian con-text, however, this is more than club mem . bership or casual social connections. The New Testament scholar Luke Timothy Johnson sug-gests that this under-standing of koinonia includes our unity in Christ, which explains how the Christian com-munity was able to maintain unity amid the ~hallenges it faced in the first centuries. In a 1999 lecture at St. Louis University, Johnson offered four aspects of this Christian fellow-ship: fellowship among persons, in writing, in material resources, and in convictions.1 Even in diverse cultures, regions, and languages, Christianity was unified through these four aspects of koinonia. The fellowship among persons is seen in the way net-works of New Testament figures, including the apostles The fellowship in writing is most clearly seen in the way .that. early Christian texts,. were shared among the early believers~ [231 69.3 2010 Horan ¯ Koinonia and the Cburcb in the Digital Age and their successors, helped to unify the various com-munities of believers. Johnson believes that these per-sonal connections helped to maintain coherence in the early Christian movement. The fellowship in writing is most clearly seen in the way that early Christian texts, which would later be canonized as Scripture, were shared among the early believers in different locations. The exchange of these compositions, sometimes letters and sometimes longer narratives, concretized the common experience of the life and ministry of Jesus Christ. The communal reflec-tion on these compositions proved to be an important means of developing koinonia. The fellowship in material resources united the first Christians in a seemingly calculable way that was under-stood more deeply as symbolizing a spiritual connec-tion with other believers. We see in both the Acts of the Apostles and in the Letters of Paul references to offerings for the benefit of the local community ("no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common," Ac 4:32), and the greater Christian community spread throughout the land ("conc+rning the collection for the saints., on the first day of every week, each of you is to put aside and save whatever extra you earn," 1 Co 16:1-2). Sharing financial resources represented spiritual koinonia. The last form of fellowship is that in convictions. Johnson notes that in the New Testament we see con-flicts arising over interpretations of some mat(ers, but that some convictions are never contested. Three of these are monotheism (identifying the one God as the God of the Torah), knowledge that Jesus was human and died, and belief that Jesus was now living with God and would share in God's triumph in the future. Review for Religious All four forms of koinonia that Johnson highlights contribute to the unity amid diversity in the early.church. We see that they have continued to unite the church. The Possibility of Digita! Koinonia With the understanding that this fourfold koinonia continues even today, we can now look at how it relates to us in our technologically advanced and technologically permeated world. It seems there is nothing that does not have a digital or virtual counterpart: Much of today's communication takes place on the Internet in such sites as Facebook and MySpace. Interacting in a completely digital environment where simple laws of nature, com-mon social mores, and geographical limits are no longer applicable is becoming more common through programs like SecondLife. These new forms of communication and social interaction allow the users to create, modify, and experiment with their identities in unprecedented ways. These new "identities" can participate in what are often called "online communities." Is it possible then to express koinonia in a digital format, to have "church" or a community of believers come together in an authentic way online? It would seem at first glance to be a possibility. The clearest congruency between koinonia and the digital age is likely found within the context 6f the fel-lowship among persons. The Second Vatican Council's Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, Lumen gen-tium, says: "All of the faithful, scattered though they be throughout the. world, are in communion with each other in the Holy Spirit" (LG §13).2 Earlier in Lumen gentium we are told that the church "transcends all limits of time and confines of race [and is] destined to extend to all regions of the earth" (LG §9). Transcending the 69.3 2010 Horan ¯ Koinonia and the Church in the Digital Age boundaries of temporality and human differences sug-gests that connecting and communicating with others through digital media and the Internet is indeed a con-temporary manifestation of fellowship among persons. Additionally, the "blog" (short for "weblog") and other digital media make written compositions and reflections on normative religious texts more read-ily available. Even in graduate theological schools, the ubiquity of technologies such as BlackBoard or WebCT has reshaped the way students of Scripture and theology read about, reflect on, and share their faith. It would seem that Christians are no longer limited to parish Bible study, adult catechesis, or other forms of faith-sharing face to face. Instead, thecommunica(ion of biblical and theological reflection now transcends the previous spatial and temporal boundaries. You can read about, reflect on, and share your faith at any time and from nearly any place. The fellowship in material resources in contempo-rary Christian communities occurs largely by way of the Internet. Technology enables the faithful to share their material resources directly or indirecdy with other communities at the click of a computer mouse. When natural disaster, crime, or war affects the people of God on any continent or at any time, the Internet has allowed Christians to assist others instantaneously. This has been the case in recent years with aid to victims of the Indian Ocean tsunami of 2004 and victims of hur-ricane Katrina in New Orleans in 2005. The sharing of material resources in these instances also represents the spiritual unity of the people of God, spread around the world though they are. The final dimension of koinonia that Johnson has highlighted for us, fellowship in convictions, can also be for Reli#ous seen in the new technologies of the digital age. From the beginning of the Internet, digital "communities" formed to share ideas and information. Early on, this occurred in what were called "chat rooms" and "message boards," where one could connect with others and contribute to a continuing conversation about a particular subject. Today the successors to those early formats might be Facebook "groups" and personal blogs. Centered on commonly held beliefs and convictions, these digital "spaces" allow people to connect with others without regard to temporal or geographic boundaries. Given the apparent compatibility of Luke Johnson's fourfold definition of koinonia with the technological advances of our digital age, it seems we could advocate a form of "digital koinonia." There remains, however, a piece of the puzzle that is not accounted for in this digital koinonia. The church is not united in this form of fellowship alone, but is also a Eucharistic community. From Facebook to Eucharist However great the possibilities for increasing koi-nonia among the Christian faithful, we must recall the passage from Acts cited above wherein the community was also devoted to the breaking of the bread. Cardinal Walter Kasper, in his book That They May All Be One,3 reminds us that the church is not simply an organization or club in which we have become some sort of mem-ber, and that we are brought into participation in the mystery of Christ as a part of Christ's Body through the sacrament of baptism. The participation--the set of relationships we enter through baptism and maintain through koinonia--comes to what Kasper calls "the summit," namely, participation in the Eucharist, a theme from Sacrosanctum concilium, 69.3 2010 Horan ¯ Koinonia and the Church in the Digital Age the council's Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy. In this light we can understand Christian koinonia as being both a communal or material unity and a sacramental unity. Kasper is in line with Johnson's fourfold koinonia, but reminds us that this koinonia is inherently sacramental, rooted in our shared baptism and Eucharist. Understanding koinonia as being fundamentally sac-ramental while also communal, we see two sets of rela-tionship in the church's koinonia, The first one Kasper calls the horizontal dimension of koinonia. It is what we have seen in Johnson's fourfold framework: fellow- - ship among persons, . , ~ in writing, in material resources, and in con-viction. The second set Kasper describes as the vertical dimension: the explicitly sacramental fellowship of believers, who in baptism are united to Christ and thus brought into the life of the Trinity. This dimension, the vertical or sac-ramental, cannot be replicated on Facebook, MySpace, SecondLife, or any other technological medium. People cannot have their SecondLife avatar baptized online and cannot participate in the celebration of the Eucharist online either. In light of the ideas of'Luke Timothy Johnson and Cardinal Walter Kasper and in line with the vision of the Second Vatican Council, the church in this digital age of ours is clearly aided in living its koinonia, but not, of course, in the matter of baptism and the Eucharist, with their water, bread, and wine. The horizontal dimension We can understand Christian koinonia as being both a communal or material unity and a sacramental unity,° 236 Review for Religious of koinonia could very likely benefit from more engage-ment with online technologies that transcend some of the usual limits of place and time. At the same time, there is a need to move beyond this digital koinonia to fully include the sacramental and vertical dimension in the celebration of baptism and Eucharist. Had Jesus "friended" the Apostles on Facebook, he would have veryqikely sent an "e-vite" to each one for an in-person gathering shortly thereafter. Notes ~ Luke Timothy Johnson, "Koinonia: Diversity and Unity in Early Christianity," Theology Digest 46 (1999): 303-313. 2 All references to conciliar documents are to Vatican Council II, ed. Austin Flannery OP (New York: Costello Publishing, 1992). 3 Walter Kasper, That They May All Be One: The Call To Unity Today (New York: Continuum, 2004). Questions for Personal Reflection and Group Study 1. In what ways do you experience koinonia in today's church? 2. How do you see technology impacting the way we live out our call to Christian discipleship? Are there other positive or negative dimensions associated with this reality? 3. What are the ways we might better use technology to support authentic communion within the Christian community today? 23.7 69.3 2010 HEDWIG LEWIS Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far 23,8 ~reOvarle daStt intuotd oens.l yI nc o2m0m06u,n tihcaet es lmanega n"icnogo blu"t walasso said to be the most popular word of the year. It had acquired a new set of meanings and suggested a specific mindset. The word, however, did not affect Jesuits: they were warming up for a general congregation (GC35) to be held in early 2008. When it was finally in session, the delegates wanted to set the world on fire. A special decree (D2) defined the Jesuit as a "man on fire" at the frontiers of humanity. Decree Three (D3) is tided "Challenges to Our Mission Today: Sent to the Frontiers." "Frontiers" became the theme of several docu-ments and the new buzzword of the Jesuits. It is no longer just a romantic term, but has evoked enthusiasm and captured Jesuit imaginations. It has become popular also among other religious worldwide.~ Hedwig Lewis SJ writes again from St. Xavier's College; P.B. 4168; Ahmedabad 380 009; India. His website is http://joygift.tripod.com. Review for Religious Understanding Frontiers The word frontier has varied meanings: the edge of empires, a place for adventure and heroism, technologi-cal testing for new industries, conquest or rich cultural exchange. In Europe it refers simply to the boundaries between nations. The colonies the Europeans established in the rest of the world became, first of all, European societies and cultures on farther frontiers. In the United States the frontier, in history and popular culture, has meant the setting for adventure and prosperity, valor and villainy. The national character is seen as having been forged in the trials and triumphs of life on the frontier. The pioneer experience supposedly pf0duced the best traits of the American people--their tenacity, individualism, love of democracy, patriotism, inventive-ness, and much more. Many historians today question such views, but few would deny that "frontier," broadly understood, has had an influence not only in North America but in the rest of the world as well. The expansion of European peo-ples brought a variety of complicated changes to human society and to the physical world itself. The frontier was an unsetding force--socially, culturally, politically, and ecologically) No longer just a geographic term implying some restrictions, "frontier" is also used in referring intel-lectual aiad scientific advances and ideological visions. Today "ideas, information, merchandise, technology, and capital circulate freely; persons also circulate, though with many more restrictions. Frontiers have become porous, and in many cases they have disappeared. The world has become multireligious and multicultural. There is no longer a notion of Christendom with delim-ited frontiers beyond which lies mission territory.''3 69.3 2010 Lewis * Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far A New Concept of Frontier Decree Three of GC35 redefines frontier accord-ing to. the interpretation Pope Benedict xvI gave it in his allocution to GC35. It implies "geographical and spiritual ,places where others do not reach or find it dif-ficult to reach . The obstacles challenging those who announce the gospel are no longer seas and vast dis-tances; rather they are the boundar-ies of a superficial vision of God and of man, which place obstacles in the way of faith and human knowledge, faith and science, faith and the commitment to justice.''4 The new frontiers exist everywhere, and we are sent to the frontiers with the very concrete mission of open-ing up passes and of "building bridges" between those who live on pne side of the frontier and those who live on the other. What is more, we are asked to be our-selves "bridges in a fragmented world" (D3 17). The frontiers have to be recognized in their variety and diversity. "The frontier is everywhere--in cyber-space, in the inner space of retreats and counseling, in the depths of depression from infirmity, in the homes that have been broken by separation or misunderstand-ing, in the midst of the secularized globalized post, modern world, in old places that call for new ways of speaking God's word. It is anywhere and everywhere that the joy and peace of the Good News is still not felt. And we are asked to go there, and 'our mode of proceeding is to trace the footprints of God. know-ing that the Spirit of Christ is at work in all places Frontiers have to be recognized in their varietyand diversity: 240 Review for Religious and situations.' . . . We turn also to the 'frontier' of the earth, increasingly degraded and plundered. Here, with passion for environmental justice, we shall meet once again the Spirit of God seeking to liberate a suf-fering creation, which demands of us space to live and breathe" (D2 10&24).s On the spiritual front, particularly for Ignatian spiriZ tuality, "~e frontiers are in giving Spiritual Exercises to every kind of person. There are frontiers in constructing an I'gnatian spirituality that can energize political action and, a renewed evangelization of faithful Christians. And there are ~frontiers in places: Moscow, for instance, and the virtual place called the web. There are older fr.on-tiers too: each human hea~;t that has to decide to follow and serve Christ the ¯K' in"g6. Jesm" t s"pirituality, because it is holistic and inclusive, "sustains the Jesuit at individual and collective, personal and strg.ctural levels for collabo-ration and networking at all levels--provincial and uni-versal in an attitude of solidarity . Jesuits are invited to build a new future in Christ for a 'globalization in solidarity, a globalization without marginalization.'''7 Those who "really try to listen" to, the Spirit end up in strange, surprising places!''s Jesuit Frontiersmen ~ Since the-foundation of the Society of Jesus, Jesuits have considered themselves frontiersmen and pioneers in .the proclamation of the faith. Pope. Benedict alluded to this in his allocution: "In its history; the Society of Jesus has lived extraordinary experiences of proclama-tion and encounter between the gospel and world cul-tures- it suffices to think of Matteo Ricci in China, Roberto De Nobili in India, or the 'Reductions' in Latin America. And you are very rightly, proud of them. I feel 69.3 2010 Lewis ¯ Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far 242 it is my duty today to urge you to set out once again in the tracks of your predecessors with the same cour-age and intelligence, but also with an equally profound motivation of faith and enthusiasm to serve the Lord and his church." He was echoing the words of his predecessor Pope Paul vI, who spoke of ~'crossroads" and "the front line" when he addressed GC32 in 1975: "Wherev.er in the church, even in the most difficult and exposed fields, in the Erossroads of ideologies, in the social trenches, there has been or is confrontation between the burning exigencies of humanity and the perennial message of the gospel, there have been and are the Jesuits," The Jesuit historian John O'Malley, writing about "the first Jesuits," said that their ."ministries and how they went about them were quintessential to the Jesuits' self-definition" of being frontiersmen. In their minis-tries, Jesuits excluded no person or place in the world. They operated at the edges of life: they preached, taught catechism., proposed _n_ew liturgical practices, and sought to .help orphans, prostitutes, prisoners, and people in hospitals. They were simultaneously writing plays, teaching in universities~ and acting as theologians at the Council of Trent. Within seven years of their papal approval, they founded and operated schools.9 Today our mission is to, go with both spiritual vigor and intellectual rigor to the "new frontiers" where we learn again that our "Jesuit identity [and mission] are relational; they grow in and through our diversities of culture, nationalities, and languages, enriching and chal-lenging us" (D2 19).1° In keeping with their vocation, therefore, Jesuits are sent beyond all frontiers "to serve faith, promote jus-tice, and dialogue with cultures and religions. The basis Review for Religious for reconciliation is Luke 4:18-19, which announces the good news to the poor, the release of captives, the recovery of sight by the blind, and freedom for the oppressed. In proclaiming God's message of love and compassion, Jesus crosses over physical and socio-religious frontiers. In the same manner, Jesuits are invited to preach the kingdom to those living outside their physical and spiritual frontiers: tax col-lectors; prostitutes; sin-ners; refugees; displaced; trafficked; women; chil- ,To cr, gss frontlers demands a strongfaith, courage, ,open ness others, and a willingness to take risks. dren; minorities; outcasts; indigenous peoples; victims of communal, caste, and ethnic violence; and persons of all kinds who are marginalized and excluded.''~l The frontiers are difficult and often uncomfort-able places. They provide none of the security of one's home turf and often require excursions, into unfamiliar or even uncharted territory. To cross frontiers demands a strong faith, courage, openness to others, and a will-ingness to take risks. It requires the ability to adapt the message of Christ and his church to cultural, linguistic, and religious realities that work with altogether differ-ent categories and reference points, as modeled by some of the great Jesuit missionaries of the past.~2 '.'Going to the frontiers," Father Adolfo Nicolfis pointed out, "means study, research, entering into the life of the people, soli-darity, empathy, inculturation, and respect for others. Going to the whole world turns out to be more difficult than we had thought. We feel like children. Perhaps we have discovered the kingdom of God.''~3 69.3 2010 Lewis ¯ Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far Father Peter-Hans Kolvenbach, when asked to define "catholic" by Georgetown University trustees visiting Rome in May 2007, replied, "I have always understood 'catholic' to mean bringing the experience of those at the frontiers of the church's mission back to renew the center.''14 For the effectiveness of our mission, we need to carefully "discern" the frontiers. This demands "three important qualities: creativity, daring, and great humil-ity!" according to Father Nicolfis. "Every Jesuit work, be it in justice, spirituality, educati6n, or whatever, should ask the question, 'How are we at the frontiers?'''is That is what this article addresses. The full mean-ing and scope of "frontiers" will take much research and extensive reflection. This is, then, an introductory study from three perspectives: (1) interior frontiers, which involve (2) spiritual frontiers and (3) outreach frontiers. 244 Interior Frontiers Saints have implied that the spiritual life is the adven-ture of crossing interior psychological frontiers to reach the ever expanding horizons of the soulscape. Spiritual life always involves letting go so .that, unburdened by self-seeking, one can go forward in communion with the divine. This adventure entails a striving to compre-hend "the 'breadth, and length, and depth, and height" of Christ's love (Ep 3:18). In this regard, and with regard to the papal definition, frontiers envisage inscape and landscape--the personal and the social, the vertical, horizontal, and panoramic reaches within one's power with the help of divine grace. Frontiers can envision our environs, our neighborhood--its breadth and length-- and those living on the edge or at the fringes of our neighborhood or our society. Frontiers can include depth Revieva for Religious and height, interior knowledge that grows and expands to vision and ideals, to community and commitment. As religious men and women, committed to this journey of the soul, we are called to be "bridge-builders" on all fronts. To be effective in this mission of bridging, we have to grow unceasingly in our familiarity with the "territories" at both ends, the spiritual and the worldly. "The church is in urgent need of people of solid and deep faith, of a serious culture and a genuine human and social sensitivity, of religious who devote their lives to stand on those frontiers in order to witness and help to understand that there is in fact a profound harmony between faith and reason, between evangelical spirit, thirst for justice, and action for peace.''16 This spiritual adventure has'its own thrill and attraction. With our inner vision set on new~ and farther horizons that our Lord graciously opens up for zealous seekers, the path is "straight and narrow" (Mr 7:13-14), but along it there are obstacles and frontiers. For those disposed toward Ignatian spirituality, any discussion on "frontiers, will inevitably involve the magis, the openness to being and doing more. "We must discern our mission according to the criteria of the magis and the more universal good" (D2 22). The magis challenges one toward seeking greater depth rather than wider avenues, non multa sed multum (not many but much). The spirit of the magis transforms us into fron-tier persons, desiring to find themselves called to what is greater and better. St. Ignatius, "the pilgrim," explored the dark inte-riors of the cave of his heart before he undertook the journey to Jerusalem to "save souls." His Autobiography describes how the journey inward meant resisting dev-ilish pirates and surviving death-threatening squalls in [ 69.3 2010 Lewis ¯ Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far order to cross the frontiers to peaceful havens. An exam-ple from more recent times is that of Blessed Teresa of Calcutta, who indicates in her "private writings" that for the last fifty years of her life she had struggled pain-fully to feel God's presence. Through her "dark night of the soul," neverthe- The Ignatian magis brooks no comfoi't zones; it expands ou~ horizons and opens up ever-new frontiers within the heart and the world around it. less, she shone forth as an extraordinary woman of faith, who continued crossing frontiers of a more ordinary kind. The Ignatian magis brooks no comfort zones; it expands our horizons and opens up ever-new frontiers within the heart and the world around it. Only Love can satisfy our inner craving for fulfillment: Love of God, love of self, love for others. Only unconditional love breaks barriers and enables us to cross over life's various frontiers. We will reach the last frontier only when "the soul feels sat-isfied." But this will happen only with our dying breath, for, .as Augustine tells us, our hearts are resdess till they rest in God. 246 Geography of Prayer/Spiritual Frontiers To assist us in our "restless striving" to cross spir-itual frontiers, St. Ignatius has given us his Spiritual Exercises. "One tries to find one's way to the place where one desires to pray now and, when I find my way to that place, I try to stay there 'until I have been satis-fied' before moving on to a new place." This method Review for Religious applies to where I place my body (in the literal sense) and where I give my attention. This discipline of seek-ing the place of my heart's desire and trying to stay there until I have been satisfied makes a powerful disci-pline for living ordinary life as well as for finding guid-ance in prayer. A Jesuit has written: "When I pray, I pay attention to where I am (geographically, professionally, tempo-rally). I try to follow the lead of my inner disturbances (Ignatius's word for consolations or desolations), which can help me find my way to where I desire to meet, and be met by, God. If I pay attention to where I place myself in the world and where my life circumstances place me, my place in the world becomes grace for me. I can form a habit of asking whether I am called to remain in that place or whether I am called to find my way to a new place. 'Place' here can mean a given neighborhood, a particular job, a professional organization, an informal network of friends, and so forth.''~7 Familiarity with this "inner geography" helps us translate our prayer into our ministry as contemplatives in action. Hence we need to deepen our interior lives so as to better integrate our vision and mission as fron-tiersmen. Without a demanding and vigorous interior life, we allow ourselves to let go of the "contempla-. tive" side of our lives, forgetting that "in what we do in the world there must always be transparency to God" (GC35 D2 10). Without seeking and finding the paths of interiority which the Spirit of God oPens up if we are docile, we rian the risk that our apostolic generosity will wither, the meaning of our strongest commitments will become confused. Without seeking God with our inner eyes, we do not recognize how God is working in our efforts. We are likely to stop making them.~8 247 69.3 2010 Lewis ¯ Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far 248 Outreach Frontiers Frontiers "beyond geographical definitions await us, 'nations' that today include those who are poor and dis-placed, those who are profoundly lonely, those who ignore God's existence, and those who use God as an instrument for political purposes. Thereare new 'nations,' and we have been sent to them (D2 22). At the frontier, then, we encounter the tragedies of poverty, hunger, thirst, pain, and death--a world in need. But this discovery need not discourage us, for we also discover that God is already there at work, and God will accompany us. Be.cause God is already there, Jesuits and their collaborators will receive new energy and new life, even when mingled with anguish where 'the Divinity'is hidden.'" 19 "Ignatius and his first companions understood the importance of reaching out to people on the frontiers and at the center of society, of reconciling those who were estranged in any way. From the center in Rome, Ignatius sent Jesuits to the frontiers, to th~ new world, 'to announce the Lord to peoples and cultures that did not know him as yet.' He sent Xavier to the Indies. Thousands of Jesuits followed, preaching the gospel to many cultures, sharing knowledge with and learning from others. He also wanted Jesuits to cross other types of frontiers between rich and poor, between educated and unlearned. He wrote a letter to the Jesuits at the Council of Trent on how to behave, and insisted that they should minister to the sick. Jesuits opened colleges in Rome and in the great cities, of Europe, and they taught children in villages across the world" (D3 15). The metaphor of bridge-building is used often' in D3, "signaling a desire to link thoroughgoing incul, turation to a commitment to dialogue. The.strategy proposed is clear: Go to the frontiers, immerse your- Review for Religious selves in the cultures you encounter, and share in the conversation. These orientations are to drive Jesuit and Ignatian activity in the postmodern era.''2° "This tradition of Jesuits building bridges across frontiers becomes crucial in the context of today's world. We become able to bridge the divisions of a fragmented world only if we remember and live from three Ignatian principles: the love of God our Lord, the union of minds and hearts reflected in the personal bond of Francis Xavier and Ignatius across the seas, and the obedience that sends each one of us in mission to any part of this world" (D3 17). The "universal mission" of the Society of Jesus flows from Ignatius's vision at La Storta. He would "deploy Jesuits in a wide variety of apostolic ministries around the world. Jesuits were to go where the need was great-est, other religious were not already there, the good to be achieved was wide and deep, and their service would better society0while giving glory to God (see Constitutions SJ §622).''2~ Christ-centered Many tasks may call on us urgently, but we know that it is not only urgent tasks that define the Society's missions: "it is Christ's mission, of which we desire to be the servants, that is our urgency.''z2 Pope Benedict, in his recent encyclical Caritas in veritate (§20) empha-sized this IZhristic orientation behind all human endeav-ors toward social change for a better world: It is Christ's charity that drives us on: "caritas Christi urget nos" (2 Co 5:14). The urgency is inscribed not only in things, it is not derived solely from the rapid succession of events ahd problems, but also from the very matter that is at stake: the establishment of authen- [249 69.3 2010 Lewis * Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far Our o treach programs must begin from the heart, tic fraternity. The importance of this goal is such as to demand our openness to understand it in depth and to mobilize ourselves at the level of the "heart," so as to ensure that current economic and social processes evolve towards fully human outcomes. Our outreach programs, then, must begin, from the heart._ This demands that we be person-centered rather than project-oriented. Our service must touch hearts. In this outreach we will encounter personal and social frontiers, as" Christ did, but we must cross them all to get to people's hearts; for the kingdom, coming from within God's heart, is within. "The crossing of frontiers is a larger human experi-ence and is not only a matter of religious frontiers. An open church willing to relate to the world, the larger society, and many types of identities will increasingly face the question of how to go about the reality of frontiers. It is the modern version of the question of love of neighbor . Traditional Christian rec-onciliation has to express itself today in the way we face complicated frontiers and boundaries and how we cross over and reach out. :. By negotiating the frontiers and communing across them, Christians will continuously discover new dimensions of their own faith identity. ¯ Much of the Christian future lies on the periphery, in the frontier-zones. Encounter with new identities need not signify a threat to a church that understands itself as universal because it is a communion in difference.''23 "Jesus, in his outreach, embraced difference and new horizons. His ministry transcended boundaries. Review for Religious He invited his disciples to be aware of God's action in places and people they were inclined to avoid: Zacchaeus, a Syro-Phoenician woman, Roman centurions, a repen-tant thief. As water bringing life to all who thirst, he showed himself interested in every parched area of the world; and in every parched area of the world he can thus be welcomed, for all who are thirsty can understand what living water means. This image of living water can give life to all Jesuits as servants of Christ in his mission because, having tasted this water themselves, they will be eager to offer it to anyone who thirsts and to reach out to people beyond frontiers--where water may not yet have welled up--to bring a new culture of dialogue to a rich, diverse, and multifaceted world" (D2 12). The Gospels offer a vivid insight into Christ's modus operandi in his healing ministry. "Look at any healing story: the way Jesus heals the paralyzed man brought in by his friends through the roof; the leper; the woman with the issue of blood. Jesus first responds to a concrete, immediate need: the healing of a sickness. But then he goes on to respond to a deeper need: the burden of guilt or the sense of hopelessness or rejec-tion and isolation. Finally he goes deeper still and offers what they long for most, often without knowing it: the gift of the kingdom of God, of friendship with a God of unconditional love, in a way that transforms them at the core of their persons.''24 "In proclaiming God's message of love and com-passion, Jesus crossed over physical and socioreligious frontiers. His message of reconciliation was preached both to the people of Israel and to those living outside its physical and spiritual frontiers: tax collectors, prostitutes, sinners, and persons of all kinds who are marginalized and excluded. His ministry of reconciliation with God 69.3 2010 Lewis ¯ Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far and with one another knew no boundaries. He spoke to the powerful, challenging them to a change of heart. He showed special love for the sinner, the poor widow, and the lost sheep. The kingdom of God which he constantly preached became a vision for a world where all relation-ships are reconciled in God. Jesus confronted the powers that oppose this kingdom, and that opposition led him to death on the cross, a death which he freely accepted in keeping with his mission. On the cross we see all his words and actions revealed as expressions of the final reconciliation effected by the Crucified and Risen Lord, through whom comes the new creation in which all rela-tionships will be set right in God" (D3 14). Words from the Heart We often fall short of being imitators of Christ in our frontier ministries. Our very words betray our attitudes: we "plan," "coordinate," "organize," mostly at the head level. "These are organizational verbs, very important, necessary for moving ahead," Father Adolfo Nicolfis noted. He added that in contrast, when Jesus commis-sioned his disciples to ministry, his words revealed the heart of it. He used "verbs of life, verbs of giving life": preach the gospel to the poor, heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, expel demons, raise the dead. This clearly indicates that "the mission of God in Jesus, the business he is about, is making life flow more abundantly for humanity wherever it is lacking or blocked. And the real secret of mission is not to get rid' of the organizational verbs or the gospel verbs, but to somehow make the organizational actions that we have to perform expres-sions of the life-giving actions of the gospel.''2s Words are symbolic. When we set out with the mindset of Christ to discern "how we are at the fron- Review for Re.ligious tiers," is our definitiofi of "frontiers" congru.ent with that of the Church and the Socie,ty? Does the spirit of the magis urge us to seek and find God's presence everywhere--across the frontiers, deep and high, near and far? Notes 1 Adolfo Nicolas sJ, "Challenges and Issues in Jesuit Education," keynote address on the 150th anniversary of Jesuit education in the Philippines, Ateneo de Manila University, 13 July 2009. 2 Elliott West, Frontier, Grolier Online. 3 Marcos Recolons SJ, "What's New in the Decree on Mission?" Promotio Iustitiae 98-99 (2008/1): 18. 4 Pope Benedict XVI, allocution to the delegates of GC35, 21 February 2008. s Josd C.J. Magadia SJ, homily for the celebration of the 50th Anniversary of the Philippine Province, 27 July 2008. 6 Joseph Tetlow SJ, "At the Frontiers," Review of Ignatian Spirituality 95 (2000): 17. 7 Joseph Marianus Kuiur SJ, "Sent to the Frontiers--Decree on Mission," Jivan (August 2008): 4-6. s Nicol~is, "Challenges and Issues." 9 John O'Malley sJ, The First Jesuits (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1993), pp. 3 and 18. 10 Paul L. Locatelli SJ, "To Be Sent: Mission, Frontiers, and Contemplative Action," Review of Ignatian Spirituality 119 (2008/3): 27. 1~ Kuiur, "Sent to the Frontiers." 12 Len Altilia SJ, "The Inspiration for Frontiers," Frontiers 1, no. 1, online. 13 John Borelli SJ, "Frontiers of Dialogue for Discovery and Renewal," National Jesuit News (November 2008). 14 Borelli, "Frontiers of Dialogue." ~s Adolfo Nicolas SJ, "Jesuit Mission Today," address to Jesuits and friends at Gonzaga College, Ireland, 12 September 2009. 16 Pope Benedict XVI, allocution. 17 John Staudenmaier sJ "The Inner Geography of Prayer in the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius," UDMcasts on the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, The University of Detroit Mercy, Detroit, 7 March 2007. 69.3 2010 Lewis ¯ Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far 18 Franqois-Xavier Dumortier SJ, "The Same Path as Ignatius," Review of Ignatian Spirituality 119 (2008). , ,9 Locatelli, "To ~Be Sent," p. 33. 20 Adria~ Lyons SJ, "From Centre to Frontiers," Province Express, Australia, 28 May 2008. 21 Locatelli, "To Be Sent," p. 27. 22 Dumortier, "The Same Path." 23 Felix Wilfred, "Introduction: The Art of Negotiating the Frontiers," Concilium, 1999/2. 24 Nicokis, "Challenges and Issues." 2s Nicolfis, "Challenges and Issues." Equinox 254 I was once certain of so many things Certain of light and dark life and death f!'lled and empty hatred and love I was once certain of so many things But grief broke me open and they tumbled out as one jumbled mess Certainty tumbled out among them. Kathleen Atkinson OSB Review for Religious JUDITH METZ Elizabeth Seton's Spirituality of the Cross In the back flyleaf of her prayer book, Elizabeth Bayley Seton wrote a modification of the Anima Christi: Soul of Jesus sanctify me Blood of Jesus wash me Passion of Jesus comfort me Wounds of Jesus hide me Heart of Jesus receive me Spirit of Jesus enliven me Goodness of Jesus pardon me Beauty of Jesus draw me Humility of Jesus humble me Peace of Jesus pacify me Love of Jesus inflame me Kingdom of Jesus come to me Grace of Jesus replenish me Mercy of Jesus pity me Sanctity of Jesus sanctify me Purity of Jesus purify me Cross of Jesus support me Judith Metz SC is the archivist and historian for the Sisters of Charity of Cincinnati. Her address is 5900 Delhi Road; Mount St. Joseph, Ohio 45051. models of spirituality. 69.3 2010 Metz ¯ Elizabeth Seton's Spirituality of the Cross Nails of Jesus hold me in life, in death - in time and Eternity - in the hour of Death defend me, call me to come to thee, receive me with thy Saints in glory everlasting.I Elizabeth loved this prayer, writing several paraphrases of it as she contemplated at various times the outpour-ing of Jesus' love in his suffering and death. From when she was young, her spirituality found a focus in his love, shown in his giving of himself, in his willingness to suf-fer for us--and in her wish to return this love. Her father gave her a cross which she often wore, remarking that she loved it "as the mark of my Captain and Master whom I was to follow so valiantly" (3a:514). There are many references in her letters and journals to this cross, such as: "looked at my crucifix"; "Calvary is the rendezvous"; "we must be crucified." As she was nursing her dying husband, she wrote: "Not only willing to take up my cross but kissed it too" (l:257).During a tumultuous time after her return to New York, Elizabeth observed: "When people say 'so much trouble has turned her br~in' - well, I kiss my crucifix, which I have loved for so many years, and say 'they are only mistaken'" (1:401). People sometimes comment that they find little affinity with St. Elizabeth Seton because her spirituality seems negative. For them she dwells so much on suf-fering and the cross--on joy at embracing hardship in imitation of Jesus--that her spirituality does not attract them. ~ Yet the imitation of Christ must be the center of every Christian life. Holy people through the ages have shown us by their lives that the more people recognize God's outpouring love, demonstrated by Christ's sacri-fice on the cross, the more they need to imitate that self-giving love: "If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, Review for Religious let him renounce himself and take up his cross and fol-. low me. For anyone who wants to save his life will lose it; but :anyone who loses his life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it" (Mk 8:34-35). Although Ignatius Loyola did not write the Anima Christi, which we have already reflected on, he placed it at the beginning of his Spiritual Exercises and often referred to it. And he did write the Suscipe that most of us are familiar with: ."Take, Lord, ~ receive all my liberty, my mem-ory, my understanding, my entire will; all that I have and possess." In her lnterior Castle, Teresa of Avila observed: "His Majesty could not grant us a greater favor than to give us a life that would be an imitation of the life his beloved Son lived. Thus I hold for certain that these favors are meant to fortify our weakness., that we may be able to imitate him in his great sufferings." Like these great saints, Elizabeth Seton was also com-mitted to living in imitation of Jesus. She wrote in her Journal: "The cup which our Father has given Us, shall we not drink it? Blessed Savior, by the bitterness of thy pains We may estimate the force of thy love . . . and therefore, if thou so ordainest it, welcome disappointment and pov-erty; welcome sickness and pain -welcome even shame, and contempt, and calumny. If this be a rough and thorny path, it is one which thou hast gone before us. Where we see thy footsteps we cannot repine" (3b:21). Elizabeth was able to enter into Jesus' life, to expe-rience his outpouring love in the events of the passion narratives, in a way that made them very real and rele-vant to her life. She recognized that Christ's story was her Elizabeth Seton was O mitted t0 living in ,imitation of ]esus: 69.3 2010 258 Metz ¯ Elizabeth Seton °s Spirituality of the Cross story. Her part was to enter into her own life and joyfully embrace the cross as a way of being in union with her beloved. She experienced overwhelming gratitude at what Christ had done for her, and she knew that her response must be to "drink the cup" and be "baptized with the baptism" of which Jesus spoke. This spirituality of hers permeated her prayer and supported her through many difficult times. One of these was the month she spent in the lazaretto with her desper-ately ill husband and young daughter upon their arrival at Livorno, Italy, in November 1803. She described the experience to her dearly loved sister-in-law Rebecca Seton: "You could not rest in your bed if you saw [me] as [I am] sitting in one corner of an immense Prison bolted in and barred with as much ceremony as any monster of mischief might be - a single window double grated with iron thro' which, if I should want anything, I am to call a sentinel, with a fierce cocked hat, and long rifle gun." "On the ship-mattresses spread on the cool floor my Willy and Anna are sound asleep, and I ~trust that God, who has given him strength through a day of such exertion will carry us on - He is our all indeed -. God is with us - and if sufferings abound in us,his consolations also greatly abound, and far exceed all utterance." "What shall we say - this is the hour of trial, the Lord support and strengthen us in it. Retrospections being anguish - press forward toward the mark and prize" (1:251,253,254). As the Setons passed their weeks, of quarantine, Elizabeth strove to keep her equilibrium by prayer and her "hidden Treasures,;--her Bible, commentaries, ser-mons, and The Imitation of Christ ~that she had carried with her from New York. She poured out her heart in her Journal, where she lamented time and again how she "read, prayed, we.pt, and prayed again" (1:256,257,265). Review for Religious But as she contemplated her situation she was also able to note: "Not only willing to take up my cross but kissed it too . I find my present opportunity a Treasure - and my confinement of Body a liberty of Soul which I may never again enjoy whilst they are united . If I could forget my God one moment at this time I should go mad -but he hushes all - Be still and know that I am God your Father" (1:257,258). With the passing days William Seton's health con-tinued to worsen so that by 5 December a doctor was called. Though he feared that Elizabeth's beloved hus-band "might be gone in a few hours," he continued to hold on. On 14 December, Elizabeth wrote: "The damp-ness about us would be thought dangerous for a pdrson in health, and my W's sufferings - Oh well I know that God is above. Capitano,. if I thought our condition the providence of man, instead of the 'weeping Magdalene' as you so graciously call me, you would find me a lioness willing to burn your Lazaretto about your ears . But O my Heavenly Father I know that these contradictory events are permitted and guided by thy Wisdom, which only is light" (1:270,271). Released from their confinement on 19 December, the lit-de family traveled to lodgings in Pisa. On Chrisunas Day Elizabeth put a little wine in a glass and said differ-ent portions of psalms and prayers which she had marked in her books, hoping for a happy moment. "We took the cup of Thanksgiving setting aside the sorrow of time, in the views of the joy of Eternity," she noted (1:273). Elizabeth then began the deathbed vigil that ended two days later. She recorded, "On Tuesday morning 27th December - [William's] soul was released - and mine from a struggle next to death." She continued, "In all this it is not necessary to dwell on the mercy and consoling 69.3 2010 Metz ¯ Elizabeth Seton's Spirituality of tbe Cross 260 presence of my dear Redeemer, for no mortal strength could support what I experienced" (1:274,275). The tears, prayers, and anguish Elizabeth suffered during her long watch with her sick and dying husbandincreased her trust in God and led her to a deeper identification with her suffering Savior. Her experiences became a part of her spirituality. Her continued trust in Divine Providence during her remaining time in Italy led her along paths that she could not have imagined. Impressed with the Catholic faith and practices of her Italian hosts, the Episcopalian Elizabeth entered into a long and anguished discernment over whether to remain in the church of her birth or to join the Catholic Church. For nearly a year she considered the argu-ments on each side, trying to listen to the voice of God. Longing for support and advice, she wrote to her Italian friend Antonio Filicchi: "Judge of my disappointment when only a few lines [from you] rewarded my anxious anticipations - however, at. the foot of my cross I found consolation, and kissing it over and over I repeated and repeat, there only I am never disappointed" (1:326). Elizabeth's uncertainty seemed to grow through the months, and she wrote of being "half dead with the inward struggle" (1:372). Yet, she confided to Antonio, "when some hours of consolation come, I think 'hard as the trial is, yet it is sweet' - I never knew till now what prayer is - never thought of fasting - though now it is more a habit than eating, never knew how to give up all, and send my spirit to mount Calvary, nor how to con-sole and delight it in the society of angels - 'Patience,' says my soul, 'He will not let you and your little ones perish, and if yet your life is given in the conflict, at the last he will nail all to his cross and receive you to his mercy'" (1:339). Review for Religious Elizabeth's decision to join the Catholic Church gained her inner peace and certitude, but led, as she later recorded, to "most painful remembrances now - yet grateful for the order of our Grace, so evident through all" (3a:519). The three years that she remained in New York after her conversion were difficult and gave her ample opportunity to share in the sufferings of Christ. Anti-Catholic sentiment made it hard for her to support her children and deprived her of much that her friends and family had provided. Her choice also occasioned some other troubles. Her two youngest Seton sisters-in-law, Harriet and Cecilia, and their cousin Eliza Farquhar were drawn to Elizabeth's Catholic fervor. When family members expressed disapproval, Cecilia's enthusiasm only grew stronger. Having been raised by Elizabeth from age seven, this young woman felt close bonds that were' strengthened by their shared desire for a devout living of their Christian faith. As she was. departing for Italy, Elizabeth had cau-tioned he.r young prot~g& "If you find that there are any obstacles in.your way, and doubtless you will find many as every Christian does in the fulfillment of his duty, still Persevere with yet more earnestness, and rejoice to bear your share in the Cross which is Our Passport and Seal to the Kingdom of our Redeemer" (1:224). Now, as Cecilia adamantly pursued the course of following Elizabeth into the Catholic Church, the younger woman met with severe opposition and even threats from her family. Elizabeth supported her as best she could, writing on Christmas Eve 1805: "My dear dear child I beg, beseech, implore you, to offer up all your pains, your Sorrows, and vexations to God that he will unite them with the Sorrows, the pangs and anguish which Our adored Redeemer bore for us on the Cross 261 69.3 2010 Metz ¯ Elizabeth Seton's Spirituality of tbe Cross "Dwelling under :the Shadow of His Cross we will cheerfully gather the thorns which will be t~urned hereafter into a joyful crown" 262] - place yourself in spirit at the foot of that cross, and entreat that a drop of that precious blood there shed may fall on you to enlighten strengthen and support your Soul in this life and ensure its eternal Salvation in the next" (1:398). When Cecilia joined the Catholic Church, a violent storm broke in the extended Seton family. For a time she was confined to her room, threats were made to send her to the West Indies, and even to burn Elizabeth's house down over her head. Eventually the new convert tied her clothes up in a bundle and went to liv~ with Elizabeth for a time.2 During Cecilia's period of trial Elizabeth kept a daily spiritual jour-nal. In it she shared her own prayer expe-riences, along with offering counsel, and encouragement. In one entry she noted: "Pain and Resignation instead of the Treasure [Eucharist] this day -but He is then most near - while Weeping under his Cross we are there content to stay" (1:470). In another, Elizabeth encouraged her young relative: "May we never leave the sheltering wing, but dwelling under the Shadow of His Cross we will cheer-fully gather the thorns which will be turned hereafter into a joyful crown" (1:473). When Elizabeth Seton made the decision to move her family to Baltimore in spring 1808, her only hesi-tation was leaving her young relative and confidante behind in New York. Cecilia wanted to accompany Review for Religious Elizabeth but also felt an obligation to care for her brother James's children. Elizabeth missed Cecilia terribly and buoyed her-self with the thought that "there is no distance for souls united as ours" (2:6). During the year the two were sepa-rated, Cecilia continued to face difficulties and obsta-cles to her hopes of joining her beloved "Sister," as she referred to Elizabeth, while Elizabeth was peaceful and delighted with her new situation. In this light Elizabeth wrote to her "most precious child": "It is poor Sister who must beg you to pray for her --I am at rest my darling while you are mounting the heights of Sion - often too I sleep in the Garden, while you are sharing the bitter cup, but it is not to be so for long, his mercies are end-less and I shall not be left without my portion" (2:21). The two were joyfully reunited in June 1809 when Cecilia arrived in Maryland with plans to join the newly forming community of the Sisters of Charity. She enthu- ¯ siastically plunged into this new life, but her delicate health continued to decline. By early 1810 Elizabeth wrote to her friend Eliza Sadler: "My heart faints when I think of this separation. No one can conceive of.what she is to me - but - but-fiat" (2:111).,,Cecilia died of tuberculosis within several months, having well learned the spiritual lessons offered by suffering., ,As Cecilia Seton passed from Elizabeth's life, another Cecilia became an intimate companion. Cecilia O'Conway, a young woman from Philadelphia, was planning to travel to Europe to become a nun. Instead, On the recommendation of her. priest-director, she became the first woman to join Elizabeth at her school in Baltimore~ These two women shared many of the same spiritual goals and became friends almost .at once. Cecilia was enthusiastic about becoming a Sister of 69.3 2010 Metz * Elizabeth Seton's Spirituality of the Cross Charity, and through the trials of the early years offered loving support to Elizabeth, who referred to her friend as "the angel of the Community. a true. and solid comfort" (2:141). Cecilia was indeed a true comfort as Elizabeth struggled through the difficulties of establish-ing a religious community and bore the sorrov¢ of'the deaths of two of her daughters. In August 1817 the two women were separated when Cecilia was amongthe first sisters sent to take charge 6f the .Catholic orphafi asylum in New York City. She was not happy to be separated from Elizabeth or to be thrust into the bustle of city life. But her spiritual mother chal-lenged her: "My own Cecilia - going on her heavenly errand and to crucify Self- . . . if you suffer, so much the better for our high journey above - the only fear I have is that you will let the old string pull too hard for solitude and silence, but look to the Kingdom of souls -, . this is not a country, my dear one, for Solitude and Silence, but of warfare and crucifixion- You are not to stay in his silent agonies of the garden at night, but go from post to pillar to the very fastening on the cross and mind, my lady, how you dare glahce a thought at pull-ing out a nail which he put in with my hand, while his own so dear will hammer it up to the very head I expect - I beg him with a mother's agony to do it softly and tenderly - would wish so to hold your dear head while he does it, but he answers, 'no one held his'., but yet he will hold it himself supporting with one hand, and fastening with the other" (2i498-499). During Cecilia's years in New York, she and Elizabeth maintained a lively correspondence .chal-lenging each other to an ever deeper union with their Redeemer. In their letters they exhorted each other to accept the sufferings, both physical and emotional, that R~view for Religious they were experiencing, and to receive them in the spirit of participating in the Lord's passion. "May you enjoy true peace in Him who has nailed us," Elizabeth wrote; "I would not pull the smallest nail out for a thousand worlds" (2:682). In her newsy letters Elizabeth kept Cecilia apprised of her declining health, telling her in July 1818, "I have no symptoms now of hastening Death as when I wrote you [earlier] - slow, slow and sure" (2:569). A few months later Elizabeth reminded her spiritual daughter of "how little is all that passes with this life . therefore we must be so careful to meet our grace," She then contin-ued: "Isaac come forth - the wood and fire are here, let not the Victim be wanting" (2:595). And the following month Elizabeth urged the younger woman to "take the abundant sweet heavenly grace from day to day, only seeking and seeing him in all our little duties . . . and taking from. the hands of all around us every daily cross and trial as if he gave it himself" (2:600). After two years in New York, Cecilia returned to the motherhouse in Emmitsburg, where she could again share her days with her beloved friend. With Elizabeth's health continuing to decline, Cecilia became one of her nurses. Staying close by her bed, she made sure Elizabeth had a crucifix available to assist her prayer, and she was present among the mourners when Elizabeth's last hour arrived. Am6ng EliEabeth's writings meditation on "the communion lof the cross." 69.3 2010 Metz * Elizabeth Seton's Spirituality of the Cross 266 Among Elizabeth's writings is a meditation on "the communion of the cross." In it she speaks of "the hap-piness of receiving our Lord and Savior in the holy Eucharist," yet points out that "we also receive him by the communion of his cross." "So," she continues, "when he invites us to come and receive him in afflic-tions' and sufferings, we should receive his chalice with the same ardor, and drink his Blood by faith . The great advantage of the communion of the cross is that we receive it when our Lord himself pleases and at the time he sees best." "Unhappily," she reflects, "we are. apt to think the very least suffering is too much, because we are lovers with our lips rather than our heart, while the true lover of Christ can never have enough of his cross." "All he asks of us is our good Will," but we. also "should bring the burning fire of love and gratitude" (3a:419-422). Elizabeth's burning love of God and desire to imi-tate Jesus was something that grew within her as she matured through her life. It gave her a deep insight into the necessity of losing herself in order to gain union with God: She understood, as had many holy women and men before her, that she was invited to emulate Jesus' self-giving love - that "the true lover of Christ can never have enough of his cross," and as they, carry the cross they "should bring the burning fire of love and gratitude." ~ The spirituality of the cross has been part of the Christian message from the time Jesus taught on this earth. Great saints, theologians, and spiritual guides through the centuries have stressed this same message. Today's Christian leaders continue to stress, as essential of our spirituality, our participation in Jesus' self-giving love, The German theologian Jiirgen Moltmann sees a kind of alchemy of Review for Religious love, where all the negativity and suffering of the world is touched by God and transformed into the victory of life.3 Johannes Metz, in his classic Poverty of Spirit, writes: "The legacy of God's total commiunent to humankind, the proof of God's fidelity to our poverty, is the cross [and] no one is exempted from the poverty of the cross.''4 Jessica Powers, in her poem "The Sign of the Cross," offers this same wisdom:5 The lovers of Christ lift out their hands to the great gift of suffering. For how could they seek to be warmed and clothed and delicately fed, when He the worthy went forth, wounded and hated, and grudged of even a place to lay His head? This is the badge of the friends of the Man of Sorrows: the mark of the cross, faint replica of His. Choose it, my heart. It is a beautiful sign. Notes ~ Regina Bechtle SC and Judith Metz SC, Elizabeth Barley Seton: Collected Writings, 4 vols. (New York: New City Press, 2000, 2002, 2006), vol. 3, part 2, pp. 74-75, hereafter cited in parentheses, thus: (3b:74-75). 2 Annabelle Melville, Elizabeth Barley Seton (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1951), p. 119. 3 Jiirgen Moltmann, The Crucified God, as described in Elizabeth Johnson, Consider Jesus: Waves of Renewal in Christology (New York: Crossroad, 1990), p. 121. 4 Johannes B. Metz, Poverty of Spirit (New York, Paulist Press, 1968), pp. 19-20. ~ Regina Siegfried ASC and Robert E Morneau, Selected Poetry of Jessica Powers (Kansas City: Sheed and Ward, 1989), p. 150. 267 69.3 2010 AVIS CLENDENEN A Rare Humility and a Future-Facing Myth 2,68 Lheard a story a few years ago that got into the arrow of my bones and became a "dangerous memory." This term was coined by Johann Baptist Metz, who described it as an earlier experience breaking into our present lives and revealing new and provocative insights for the future. Such a breakthrough casts light on the deceptive nature of something we considered an evident good. It is a dangerous and incalculable visitant from the past. This memory has future content,~ The memory I wish to share is a story told by Sister of Mercy Betty Barrett on the occasion of her sixtieth jubilee as a vowed religious. Sister Betty Barrett entered the congregation in 1945. She devoted most of her ministerial life to education, becoming the president of Saint Xavier College in Chicago in the turbulent 1960s. In 1966 she supported an innovative idea to invite major Avis Clendenen most recently wrote for us in 2008. She is pro-fessor of religious studies and the Sister Irene Dugan RC Scholar in Spirituality at Saint Xavier University; 3700 West 103rd Street; Chicago, Illinois 60655. Review for Religious theological architects of the Second Vatican Council to the college for the inaugural symposium of the newly formed Pope John xxIII Institute. The tag line of the John xx]II Institute quoted John xxJII's call "to dedicate ourselves to that work which our era demands of us. ¯ remembering we are not on earth to guard a museum, but to cultivate a flourishing garden of life." . Imagine this small U.S. women's Catholic college thinking itself capable of hosting at one symposium Yves Congar, Jean Dani61ou, Charles Davis, Henri de Lubac, Johann Baptist Metz, John Courtney Murray, Edward Schillebeeckx, Karl Rahner, and others as well. The European theologians would for the first time bring the insights of the council documents to North America. For some, this would be their ~first trip to the United States. They all came. This gathering is exactly what President Sister Betty Barrett accomplished in early 1966, only four months after the council's close.2 The formation of the John xxlII Institute and the plan for the symposium became controversial. Archbishop John Cody of Chicago expressed reserva-tions about the symposium. He wrote to Sister Betty saying that such a gathering of theologians did not coin-cide with his norm for theological activities. He then issued a public decree that all ecclesiastical entities in the archdiocese must first obtain certification of cre-dentials from him before inviting to Chicago any priest from outside the archdiocese. All the council theologians invited were priest-theologians. The situation became an international story that saw the canonical authority of the local bishop as opposing academic freedom in institutions of higher education. The American press described the symposium, which drew more than three thousand participants to the little-known campus, as "an 269 69.3 2010 Clendenen ¯ A Rare Humility and a Future-Facing Myth 270 event of unprecedented proportions," "an intellectual feast," and "a complex and strange event in the history of Catholic colleges at that time in North America." Interesting as it is, this event is not the key story of this essay. It is background for discussing the matter of dangerous memory. Sister Betty saw.the Second Vatican Council as Pope John xxIII did. She saw that aggiornamento was intimately tied,to justice and peace. While president, she became the first woman religious to be named to the Illinois Human Relations Commission. After her presidency she continued to advance the vision and mis-sion of ecclesial renewal and the claims of the social gospel through a variety of positions such as her min-istry with the Eighth Day Center for Justice and the Catholic Interracial Council. In her seventies she went to Central America to work with the poor, Though she tried desperately, she never learned Spanish well enough to speak or truly understand it. In her eighties she was asked at her sixtieth jubilee in April 2003 to share memories with those gathered to celebrate with her~ I shall paraphrase Sister Betty but speak for her in the first person. You know that when I went to Central America I could not speak the language of the people. You know I hold degrees of all kinds and functioned at a tremendous level of responsibility for many years while in the ministry of higher education. Yet, even after years and years of living among these beautiful people and interacting with them every day, I never managed to speak with them in their native tongue. So I was forced, so to speak, to plumb new depths of human communica-tion. While there, I came to realize that "being Review for Religious there"--presence--is what is most important in our ministry. Presence conveys a meaning that tran-scends even the need for words. This I learned very late in my ministerial life. Honoring this jubilee year of mine and know-ing that my ability to travel would only continue to diminish, the community offered me airfare to travel a last time to Honduras to see my friends. So a few weeks ago I took that trip. I went to the home of a family with whom I had been present during moments of joy and pain in their lives over a span of years. I walked into their humble living room and noticed something. There on the wall surround-ing the crucifix, were four pictures, each rever-ently hung near the cross. There was, of course, a picture 6f Our Lady of Guadalupe; a picture of Mother Catherine McAuley, the founder of the Sisters of Mercy; a picture of Archbishop Oscar Romero; and . a picture of me! What can I say to you about that moment in my life? Seeing the cross and our Lady, seeing that this family was so deeply touched by the min-istries of the Sisters of Mercy that they placed a portrait of a !9th century Irish woman near their own beloved Oscar Romero--and then to see my picture in that company! It was a moment of abject'humility, wonder, awe, an'd gratitude I will never forget. I could never really talk with them the way I am talking with you now, yet I was present to them over the long haul of many years. I share this story with you as an act of gratitude and humility for the gift of these sixty years of ser- 69.3 2010 Clendenen ¯ A Rare Humility and a Future-Faring Myth 272] vice, and as a testimony of wonder to 'a God who can do more in us than we can "ask or imagine" (Ep 3:20). I was mesmerized by her tale. In hearing it, my own consciousness was altered forever about ministry and mystery, about growing old yet remaining ever new, and about the lost art of humility. I recognized her story from'the past as a memory bearing future content. This elegantly simple parable resounded in me, taking on the force of a great myth; it became part of the life I desire. I say this not with any intention to mimic her experience, but in the inspiring hope of living the nearly lost art of humility. Sister Betty told a little tale about one family, and they--all unaware--became a dangerous memory precisely because she knew her telling it could break into the present moment and bring us new and danger-ous insights. Such lives disrupt self-interest and ambition by being a vivid picture of largeness of mind and heart, which our noisy egos often do not notice. The mythic story of this elderly nun speaks :to the truth of the poet Mary Oliver's words: What I loved in the beginning, I think, was mosdy myself. Never mind that I had to,. since somebody had to. o That was many years ago. Since then I have gone out from my confinement~s, though with difficulty. And I have l~ecome the child of the clouds, and of hope. I have become the friend of the enemy, whoever that is. I have become older and, cherishing what I have learned, I have become younger. And what do. I risk to tell you this, which is all I know? Love yourself. Then forget it. Then, love the world.3 Review for Religious Living in an Age of Entitlement That last line is not an easy task in today's world. More than a decade ago I read, "The narcissistic per-sonality has become the most prominent~ personality type in the Western world.''4 At that time the statement caught me up short. Now I find it the lens through which I view the world I inhabit. In their new book The Narcissism Epidemic: Living in the Age of Entitlement (2009), the psychologists Jean Twenge and W. Keith Campbell have documented and analyzed the troubling cultural trends of the past three decades. They suggest that North American culture itself is in the grip of a narcissism epidemic. According to Theodore Millon, professor of psychiatry at Harvard University, profes-sor of psychology at Miami University, and leading authority on personality disorders, "the label narcissism connotes more than .mere egocentricity. Narcissism sig-nifies, more specifically, that these individuals overvalue their personal worth, direct their affections toward themselves rather than others, and expect that others will recognize their unique and special value.''5 While I hesitate to labor the point, I think the fol-lowing list of traits and behavioral tendencies of the narcissistic personality can give us pause, in which to examine human consciousness. Those leaning toward narcissism tend ¯ To grandiosity, haughtiness, snobbishness, arrogance; ¯ To feelings of entitlement; praise for performance; ¯ To exploitation of and insensitivity toward others; ¯ To crave attention, which they see as deserved without need for reciprocity; ¯ To flout conventional rules and expectations of shared social living; 69.3 2010 Clendenen ¯ A Rare I-Iumili~y and a Future-Facing ~4yth ¯ To assume and often find that others feel hon-ored by their relationship, or to quickly train others to admire and obey them, with the result that the admirers insulate, them from self-aware hess of their limitations; ¯ To idealize those who satisfy their needs while treating contemptuously those who do not; the shifting of overvaluation to denigration occurs frequently in the same relationship; ¯ To preoccupation with personal adequacy, . power, prestige, and status; ¯ To heightened sensitivity to any form of criticism; ¯ To intolerance of perceived affronts to self-esteem that question their assumed inherent specialness; ¯ To take liberties with facts by embellishing them to maintain illusion of self-worth; ¯ To exaggerate abilities and accomplishments; to inflate and justify what they feel is due them, while depreciating those who refuse to accept or enhance their self-image; ¯ To use rationalization as a regulatorymechanism to cope with the inevitable personal failures or social humiliations by devising plausible reasons for self-justification and doing so with litde con-cern for others; and ¯ To lack interpersonal empathy.6 This detailed list of a narcissistic character is now embedded in the general population (and culture) where once such a description of human personality would have qualified as clinical narcissistic disorder. Ttie ethos of selfishness, individualism, utilitarianism, and instru-mentalism is taken for granted, not seen as problematic, and thus often remains unexamined. In turn, the values of community, altruism, and the life of the virtues are Review for Religious being undermined. A few years ago I heard the coor-dinator of the Jesuit Volunteers report that there was a lot of interest among young people who wanted to serve on their own terms. He referred to this as narclsslsnc idealism." According to Twenge and Campbell, no single event initiated the epidemic; instead, the values deep in the American psyche shifted Slowly toward individu- ~ alism, self-admiration, materialism, incivility, and entitlement. "Like a disease," they write, "narcissism is caused by certain factors, spreads through particular chan-nels, appears as various ~ ~ ~' symptoms, and might be ° - halted by preventive measures and cures. Narcissism is a psych0-cultural affliction rather than a physical disease, but the model works remarkably well.''7 Six years before The Narcissism Epidemic, Dr. ,Robert Moore, professor of psychoanalysis, culture, and spiritu-ality at Chicago Theological Seminary, in his book Facing the Dragon: Confronting Personal and Spiritual Grandiosity, announced the new contemporary crisis as "the epidemic of unregulated human grandiosity." Grandiosity refers to holding fantasies or embracing desires that are greater than your real life can support. According to Moore, either grandiosity makes you manic in running around to meet unrealistic demands or makes you depressed because your desires are essentially unachievable. Moore rallies our intellects and emotions to break through the existential denial of our "naive male" and "naive female" ,Cultural narcissism is d estructively shaping a :collusive and self-promoting ' way of livi g: 69.3 2010 Clendenen ¯ A Rare Humility and a Future-Facing Myth 276] approach to the human situation by courageously con-fronting the aggressive cultural selling of pathological narcissism as a normative vision for human life.s The Narcissism Epidemic is replete with examples that reveal how cultural narcissism is destructively shaping a collusive and self-promoting way of living. In a chapter tided "Superspreaders!" they tell a tale from the televi-sion series "My Super Sweet 16": "Atlanta teen Allison tells a party planner she wants to block off part of Peachtree Street so there can be a parade for 'my grand entrance.' Peachtree is a major thoroughfare, the plan-ner reminds her. She responds, 'My sweet 16 is more important than wherever they have to be.' But there's a hospital across the street, the planner cautions--what if an ambulance can't get to the hospital? 'They can wait one second. Or they can go around,' she says cavalierly. Amid all of this, Allison's mother just listens. When the planner finally turns to her in exasperation, she says, 'If Allison wants it, make it happen.' So much for that dying person in the ambulance." The narcissistic "enti-dement" expressed here by the mother points to the odd perpetual adolescence of many American adults. Twenge and Campbell say that adolescence, the most narcissis-tic time of life, is being extended beyond all previous limits.9 Clearly such happenings are not isolated aberra-tions; they are cultural markers of the superspreading of a distorted collective psyche, that needs attention, fast. In Waking Up in Time: Finding Inner Peace in Times of Accelerating Change, the physicist and futurist Peter Russell said, "Our power to change the world may have made prodigious leaps but our internal development, the development of our attitudes and values, has pro-gressed more slowly. We seem to be as prone to greed, aggression, shortsightedness, and self-centeredness as Review for Religious we were 2,500 years ago . If we are to survive the critical times we are now passing through, it is essen-tial we undergo a profound shift in values and awaken to our inner truths and our full spiritual potential.''1° Effecting such a shift and awakening has been the mis-sion of Benetvision: A Resource and Research Center for Contemporary Spirituality founded by Benedictine Sister Joan Chittister. Interestingly, Twenge, Campbell, Moore, Russell, and Chittister11 all suggest a return to the lost art of the virtuous life as a way to stem and bring healing to the epidemic of entidement and grandiosity that marks and mars our current North American culture. Risking Humility The final chapter of The Narciss#m Epidemic, "Treating the Epidemic of Narcissism," sees the recovery of authentic humility as the way to lessen the narcissism in our lives and in our culture. Humility is the counter-balance to narcissism, the creative opposite to its viru-lence. Modesty, lack of pretense, absence of arrogance, and refinement of character--so evident in Sister Betty's jubilee tale--are vitally necessary in today's personal and communal reflection. Her unaffected wonder at finding her own picture in the company of Oscar Romero's, and Catherine McAuley's, and Our Lady of Guadalupe's, at the foot of the cross has to make you and me wonder: Do we truly believe that God can do more in us than we ever imagined--or could ever imagine? Her awe at seeing what she and her ministry meant to this poor, loving family puts us in awe, even a feeling of danger. What does this mean for the many in our country whose lives are far too self-focused and comfortable? Has a cer-tain impoverishment accompanied i:he world's material progress? Have we--ourselves, our communities, our 69.3 2010 Clendenen * A Rare Humility and a Future-Facing Myth 278 Humility is the ancient ever-new ~irtue that ke~s us rooted in our earthiness and able to savor our human limits as gifts. culture--settled into a certain mediocrity, an exagger-ated feeling of entidement? Is our ministry simple and un-self-conscious enough to be a wondrous conduit for God's goodness and inspire a needy people's transcendent gratitude? Is the path to greater human success and hap-piness much more toward inwardness than upwardness? Humility is the ancient ever-new virtue that keeps us rooted in our earthiness and able to savor our human limits as gifts. Sister Betty felt her lack of facility with Spanish as a weakness, and therein was her humble open-ness to receive new graces and new skills, even in her seventies. She brought those graces to some of God's people in their times of joy and grief. Twelve-step recovery has something to say about this. It advises people to strive for spiritual prog-ress, not perfection, and to admit their powerless-ness, accept their limits, and thereby find true freedom. Such yielding in honesty to a Power greater than ourselves enables people to risk humility. In that humility they find themselves able to understand the Beatitudes (Mt 5:1-12) and to risk living in meekness, gentleness, empathy, self-donating love, and freely chosen accountability. The word humility comes from the Latin word humi-lis, meaning "low," which, in turn, comes from the Latin humus, which means "earth" or "dirt" or "soil." The 12th-century Benedictine abbess and mystic Hildegard of Bingen understood the dangers of not paying atten- Review for Religious tion to nature and all natural things. She devoted one of her many writings to virtues and vices. She was con-vinced that virtues are more than moral habits: they are therapeutic forces within human nature that can produce wonderful transformations. In her legendary Scivias (a Latin abbreviation for. "knowing the Lord's ways"), she said, "Virtue is like a warm garment in a cold world; it is the source of charm in a harsh world" (~1.1.4). Hildegard also wrote the following in one of her many letters of advice to religious leaders: Walk through the valley of humility and know peace. Lose your titanic, hard-to-satisfy ego. A greedy self-esteem is just a steep mountain you'll find dangerous to climb. It's also tricky (if not impossible) to come down from such heights, and anyhow the summit is too small for community. Focus on Love's splendid garden instead. Gather the flowers of humility and simplicity of soul. Study God's patience. Keep your eyes open.12 Sister Betty Barrett's humble, warm, and charming story carries a wallop, as myths do. It is much more than an elderly sister's pleasant memory. It is a dangerous memory. It can affect the future. Notes ~ Johann Baptist Metz, "The Future in the Memory of Suffering," Concilium 76 (1972), p. 15. 2 [See The Word in History: The St. Xavier Forum, ed. T. Patrick Burke (New York: Sheed and Ward; 1966). Ed.] 3 Mary Oliver, "To Begin With, the Sweet Grass," Evidence (Boston: Beacon Press, 2009), pp. 38-39. 4 L. Sperry and H.L. Ansbacker, "The Concept of Narcissism and Narcissistic Personality Disorder," Psychopathology and Psychotherapy (Washington, D.C.: Accelerated Development, 1996), p. 349. 5 Theodore Millon and George S. Everly Jr., Personality and Its Disorders: A Biosocial Learning Approach (New York: John Wiley and Sons, 1985), p. 70. [279 69.3 2010 Clendenen ¯ A Rare Humility and a Future-Facing Myth 6 Theodore Millon, Personality-Guided Therapy (New York: John Wiley and Sons, 1999), pp. 433-463. 7 Jean M. Twenge and W. Keith Campbell, Living in the Age of Entitlement: The Narcissism Epidemic (New York: Free Press, 2009), p. 2. s Robert L. Moore, Facing the Dragon: Confronting Personal and Spiritual Grandiosi~y (Wilmette: Chiron Publications, 2003), pp. 61, 68, 69, 145-146. 9 Twenge and Campbell, Living, pp. 100.101,234. The TV stoW and other insights in this article also appear in "Book Notes," Horizon: Journal of the National Religious Vocation Conference 35, no. 1 (Fall 2009): 34-35. 10 Peter Russell, Waking Up in Time: Finding Inner Peace in Times of Accelerating Change (Novato, California: Origin Press, 1992), pp. 38, 154. 11 See Joan D. Chittister, "Pride and Humility," in Heart of Flesh: A Feminist Spirituality for Women and Men (Grand Rapids: ~William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1998), pp. 89-106. ~2 Carmen Acevedo Butcher, Hildegard of Bingen: A Spiritual Reader (Brewster, Massachusetts: Paraclete Press, 2007), p. 159. You who calmed. You who calmed the winds and sea, Jesus, calm and center me. Draw me in and hold my gaze Soothe and silence me these days. Deep is calling unto deep. I give you all my cares to keep. You who calmed the winds and sea. Jesus, calm and center me. Mary Jan6 Higgins RSM Review for Religious ROBERT J. NOGOSEK Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice When I was nineteen years old and a university student, I made a weekend retreat in the Gethsemani Trappist monastery in Kentucky. I was ~rying to decide whether or not I should enter religious life. At one of the retreat con-ferences, an elderly monk printed in block let-ters on the blackboard the word success, putting two vertical lines through each S to make it a dollar sign. He said the world sees success as making money, but real success in life is not about dollars. We needed to turn one vertical line sideways and make a cross. ~ This said a lot about the Trappist life I was observing. The white-robed monks seemed to live a foolish life not at all conducive to hap-piness° keeping silence, arising in the middle Robert J. Nogosek CSC has been a ~heology profes-sor and a parish pastor among other responsibilities. His address is P.O. Box 929; Notre Dame, Indiana 46556. liv!np religious life 69.3 2010 Nogosek ¯ Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice 282 of the night to chant psalms together in a cold chapel, and eating crusty bread in a diet often deprived of meat. But I saw in the monks a remarkable humor I had never seen before. It seemed that for them life was a big joke. I decided I wanted the joy they had, and their way of seeing the meaning of life in this world. Back at college I returned to my sophomore classes. One of the courses was on the four Gospels, printed in parallel columns to show similarities and differences in the story of Jesus. As I s~t in class somewhat bored one spring afternoon, it suddenly occurred to me that the Gospels were practical--that living the Gospels made good sense. I saw this in the story of the rich young man in Matthew 19. He already had more than enough money and possessions while keeping all the command-ments, but was still discontented. He asked what more he could do to have a better life. Jesus graciously invited him to join the community, of disciples, but first he must sell all he had and give the money to the poor. This is how the Trappist monk had explained success. It helped me to see that by joining a religious community I could live the gospel in a literal way, like those who had fol-lowed Jesus in Galilee. The greatest day in my life came some months later on my clothing day. Upon receiving the religious habit with many others that day, I saw myself as having left. the world to join with the others in a life centered on friendship with Jesus Christ. It would consist in living a religious rule. That did not seem to be a great sacrifice, but rather the way to be myself, apart from a world that ran after money and other false values. This freedom to be myself did not initially translate into becoming a gift for others, as St. Paul describes it in Galatians 5:13--"you were called for freedom, brothers. Review for Religious But do not use this freedom as an opportunity for the flesh; rather, serve one another through love." Instead, I concentrated on having a direct relationship with Jesus. It was only much later that I realized that God created me to live as a member of the human family, and that this meant sharing my heart with others. Gradually this was extended to seeing myself as a brother to any other human being I might meet. Seeking Perfection I began to see that progress in union with God involved seeking what was called "the perfection of charity." Vatican Council II would state that the pur-pose of religious life is to make the perfection ; of charity a "very clear symbol" (Flannery) or ~ a "blazing emblem" (Abbott) of the kingdom of God (PC §I). Our love for Jesus is to flow out in love of neighbor, which, as Pope Paul VI . . ~, wrote, is to be extended to the whole human race (Ecclesiam suam, §58). As the ancient hymn Ubi Caritas had stated, charity (caritas) united with heartfelt love (amor) makes God present in the world. Vatican II also stated that religious profession of the evangelical councils is to free us from obstacles that might draw us away not only from the fervor of char-ity, but also from "the perfection of divine worship" (LG §4). This perfection of divine worship would be our response to the Orate Fratres at Mass in praying I began to see that progress in union with GOd involved ~seeking what was called ~ '~the perfection of charity. " [283 69.3 2010 Nogosek ¯ Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice 284 that our sacrifice "be acceptable to God, the Father Almighty." But this perfection of divine worship also requires the perfection of charity, as St. Paul suggests by saying that the loving gift the Philippians sent him is the "fragrant aroma'.' of "an acceptable sacrifice, pleas-ing to God" (Ph 4:18). Vatican II calls the Eucharist "a sacrament of love" and "a bond of charity" (SC §47), not unlike St. Thomas saying that Holy Communion incites into action our dispositions to be charitable (ST III.79.1 ad 2)~ He cites 2 Corinthians 5:14--"the love of Christ impels us." This could be why the new liturgy has shortened the time after Holy Communion. We are not to bury our face in our hands in private adoration of Jesus in our heart, but rather to ready ourselves for reaching out to others. It calls me "to put off the old man" (Col 3:9) of self-centeredness, and put into action the command-ment of loving others as Jesus has loved me. Jesus wants to be loved in his people, as a religious sister once heard in her heart when, upon kissing the crucifix before retir-ing, she heard the words "Kiss my people." Personal Fulfillment Even though I had often heard women religious speak of their quest for "fulfillment," it took years for me to revise my original desire for success in life into a language of personal fulfillment. I had not expected to be "fulfilled" as a person by the sacrifice represented in religious profession of poverty, chastity, and obedience, any more than I had seen the austerity of the Trappist life as a way to personal fulfillment in this world. Making life seem like a joke could hardly be called "ful-fillment." My thinking was changed, however, in part by a parable in C.S. Lewis's Mere Christianity (Bk 4, 9). Review fir Religious According to an adaptation of the story, you invite a friend to live with you in your house. After some time, you notice blueprints have been spread out on the din-ing- room table. Inspecting them, you realize your guest has elaborate plans to transform your little house into a great palace--"throwing out a new wing here, put-ring on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards." As C.S. Lewis comments, it is as though your guest wants to make it a home worthy of himself. To think of Jesus as actually living with me in my heart was not something I had learned in catechism. We had been told that the Holy Spirit was the divine guest in our heart, bug the real presence of Jesus was only in the host in the tabernacle, except when Jesus cam to us in Holy Communion and stayed for seven minutes.~ But during novitiate I had read some books of Raoul Plus SJ, especially one entitled In Christ Jesus, showing from the writings of St. Paul that by baptismal grace we have, abiding in our heart,, the real presence of Jesus. It is the same Jesus as resides in the tabernacle--body and blood, soul and divinity. In Holy Communion he does not come for a visit; he comes to stay. Others around me disagreed, but I was sure Plus was right about this teaching of St. Paul. Later I would also find it in St. Teresa of Avila's Interior Castle. If the real presence of Jesus dwells in us, then we also meet him in others, and what others share in truth and love could well be a gift to us directly from Jesus in their heart. This makes our mutual sharing of life crucial to our relationship with Jesus. It took me beyond the Little Flower's Way of Spiritual Childhood, which long before I had been drawn to by the Trappist monks. There is something more than putting as much love as possible into each action; I am also called to make a 69.3 2010 Nogosek * Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice gift of myself to others so as to communicate the love of Jesus, who dwells within my heart. This amounts to being a grace to others. It is the language of spiritual gifts or charisms. Charisms During formation I. was repeatedly urged to rec-ognize my special talents and gifts, since religious life involves a commitment to strive for personal and spiri-tual growth. I was told that "grace builds on i~ature." So what is my nature as an individual? What talents and personality had I brought with me into religious life? These efforts at self-scrutiny often left me feel-ing quite discouraged. I lacked so much of what others around me had in talents and personality. Only much later would I see this differently, in part because of the parable in Mere Christianity--that inviting Jesus into my heart could result in my being radically changed as a person. In calling me to discipleship, Jesus may well be planning to have me express myself in wonderful ways, just as he had promised his disciples that they would do greater works than he had done (Jn 14:12). We know that by receiving his Body we become his Body, so that, like him (LG §5), our words, actions, and personal presence can reveal the kingdom of God on earth. This could represent the "abundant fruit from the grace of baptism" which Vatican II says we will be enabled to have by religious profession (LG §44). If I am to be a grace to others by charisms, I have to come out ofmy shell. This is like a cartoon I once saw. In the first frame, there is a big egg bouncing up and down. In the next frame a duckling has poked out his head through the shell, and looks around in fright. In the final frame he has dived headfirst back into the egg. It is much Review for Religious the same with charisms. We have to drop our defenses and risk being a person in new ways before others. Walking on the Water Underlying Vatican II's Pastoral Constitution of the Church in the Modern World is the story of walking on water in Matthew 14. Jesus is walking on the waters of today's world, and -- - invites us, like St. Peter, to get out of our boat to ioin him. This is to fol-low our discerning "the signs of the times" (GS §.4), which are the ques-tions and yearnings of people today.2 - It means trying something new. In leaving our comfort zone, we will need to keep our eyes on Jesus. St. Peter started sinking only when he looked around and felt the wind blowing hard against him. This suggests that charisms do not form part of our personal identity. Although we have been given the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit at confirmation, these are not graces to give grace to others, but rather a disposi-tion to be sensitive to the breath of the Spirit, which, as Jesus said, may come and go like the summer breeze (Jn 3:8). Our personal defects remain; it is as "earthen vessels" (2 Co 4:7) that we carry Christ's grace to others. Maybe, in our self-gift to others, the power of Jesus will be conveyed, even through our defects and vulnerability. St~ Paul says in 2 Corinthians 12:10--"when I am weak, then I am strong." Jesus is walking on the ¯ wafers bf today's world, and invites us, like St. Peter, . "to~et out Of our.boat to join him. 69.3 2010 Nogosek ¯ Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice The opportunity for that came up early in my reli-gious life. Just as I completed studies in biblical theol-ogy, I received a letter assigning me to teach dogmatic theology. Upon arriving in the classroom a few months later, I steadied my nerves by recalling G.K. Chesterton: "If something is worth doing, it is worth doing badly." But the course turned out quite well. The students enjoyed my attempts to use the Bible to understand dogma in place of the traditional Neo-Scholasticism they had been hearing. Again, many years later, I was invited to join a team in southern California doing evangelization among Mexican immigrants. I told God that if he wanted me to do this, he would have to teach me Spanish. Initially some of the people rejected me because they sensed I did not understand what they were saying. That was quite true, but, when with them, I would repeat a word or phrase they had said just to keep them talking. Since I loved the people, I was quite happy to be able to communicate even a little bit and to keep on listening. After they came to see I really liked being with them, they began showing that they liked being with "Padre Roberto." At the same time I was making a big hit with their children, maybe because I saw each child as just as much a person as I was. With their kids so fond of me, as time went on their parents became more satisfied with me as I was. 2881 Inner Resistance to Grace Like the companions of St. Peter on the lake that stormy night, we are likely to have a lot of reluctance "to get out of the boat" to join Jesus walking on the water. This is typical of the resistance described by St. Paul's discussion of Christian freedom in Galatians 5. He calls it "the desire of the flesh." When I first arrived at Review for Religious Coachella, California, as the new pastor of an Hispanic parish, I was determined to follow the example of St. John Vianney, who had started out as cur4 of Ars by knocking on doors to visit the people in their homes.3 To make this happen, I put it on my schedule for cer-tain evenings each week. As I got into my car at 7 p.m., usually I would not feel like going, but I went anyway, and once I was interacting with the people I enjoyed it--and they did too. In Sunday homilies I would tell the people that, if they wanted to experience the Holy Spirit (and I knew they did), they should do something for someone. I said the presence of the Holy Spirit is felt mainly in our actions. Others say the same: that when they visit the sick, or even someone in jail, they "get more out of it" than they give. We may feel like new persons in our spontaneity of interact-ing with others out of our love for Jesus. People even relate that they have said things that surprised them, things they had never thought of before. This recalls the promise of Jesus about the gift of the Holy Spirit-- that we should not prepare what to say beforehand, for in our witness itself the Spirit would give us the words to say (Mt 10:20). 'The presence of the Holy: Spirit is felt mainly .fin our actionS. Charisms and Renewal In its call to renewal, Vatican II invites us to aspire to have charisms typical of the early church. Both Pope John xxIII and Pope Paul VI called for a "New Pentecost," to restore to the church today the youth- 69.:~ 2010 Nogosek * Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice fulness and enthusiasm it had when it first came from the hands of Jesus. When we look at early Christianity in comparison with the church today, we wonder what caused the rapid growth in the number of believers. Rodney Stark in The Rise of Christianity estimates that during the first three centuries the number of Christians increased by forty percent every ten years, beginning in A.D. 40 with about 1,000, and' attaining more than 33,000,000 believers by the year 350 (p. 7). As a soci- ,ologist of religion, he suggests that .the best explana-tion for this phenomenal growth was the way Christians responded to the epidemics in. the empire, which would ravage the entire population at least once every century, with mortality rates of up to thir.ty percent (pp. 73ff). Even the emperor Marcus Aurelius was among the vic-tims in the year 180. At such times the pagans would flee in panic from their homes and cities, abandoning without food and water their loved ones who had fallen ill, and even refusing to bury the dead. The Christians, however, by reason of their love of Christ, would care for their sick and with devotion bury their dead. This care was extended not only to fellow Christians but also to the many pagans married to Christians, and to some of their pagan friends as well. Stark concludes: "This meant that in the aftermath of each epidemic, Christians made up a larger percentage of the population, even without new converts. Moreover, their noticeable better survival rate would have seemed a "miracle" to Christians and pagans alike, and this ought to have influenced conversions." Typically at the beginning of religious communities there was a phenomenal growth in the number of new members, who were attracted to the founder's charism in response to a critical need, even at great sacrifice. In Review for Religious founding my own Holy Cross community, Blessed Basil Moreau was responding not only to the secularization of France after the French Revolution, but also to pleas for help from European missionaries serving in Africa, North America, and Asia. After forming a community of men and women committed to the hearts of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, he put many of them at risk by sending them abroad with few material resources, saying that as Holy Cross religious "the Cross is our only hope." He meant that, when as a community we suffer great trials while engaged in service of others, it is a sign from divine providence that our efforts will produce fruit beyond human possibilities. With such words derived from St. Paul, Moreau was transforming the French school of spirituality, with its devotion to the mystery of the incar-nation, into a trust in the paschal mystery. This fostered a bold reliance on divine providence in undertaking dif-ficult apostolates in new environments, to which we were being invited as a new apostolic religious community committed to serving the church. A New Image of the Church According to Vatican II, the church today needs a critical reform of its image, that it be much more a sign of the good news of the kingdom of God. By his 1964 encyclical, Ecclesiam suam, Pope Paul vI challenged the council fathers on the eve of the third session "to com-pare the ideal image of the church, just as Christ sees it, wills it, and loves it. with the actual image the church projects today" (§ 11). This entails, he says, "correction of the defects that conscience denounces and rejects, as if, standing before a mirror, we were to examine interiorly the image of Christ that he has left us." These "necessary reforms," he says, will be "delicate and difficult" (§12). 69.3 2010 Nogosek ¯ Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice 292 One delicate task of the council was that of altering the image of the church that Pope Pius XIl had presented in 1943 in his renowned encyclical Mystici Corporis. Pius identified the church as the Body. of Christ by being "a perfect society" in its juridical structure. Some of the council fathers would describe this image of the church as the "barque of Peter," with the clergy and religious as the crew and the laity their precious cargo to be transported safely across the treacherous waters of the world to the safe harbor of heaven. The council saw, however, that this is not the way the church should be. Gaudium et spes would call us out of the boat, and especially the laity, who were to see themselves as the primary evangelizers of modern society (LG §31). They were called to this and equipped for it in their baptism and confirmation (LG §33). The obligation came from Christ's commandment to love our neighbor, and the equipment would be the spiritual gifts called charisms. Their ordained pastors were to help them discern their charisms, form them as lay apostles, and give them "room for action" (LG §37). As a preferred image of the church, the council chose the biblical term "people of God." It was remi-niscent not only of the Hebrew people freed from the slavery of Egypt and guided by God through the desert, but also of the story of the multiplication of the loaves and fish in Mark 6, where Jesus has the multitude sit down on the grass in groups of hundreds and fifties. Rather than mainly showing itself as a well-defended and highly organized juridical body, the church is to make itself seen in the world as a movement of faith-filled people. The world today needs to experience the presence of God, and that can best happen where mem-bers of the church form small Christian communities Re'view for Religious through "familial love" of one another and collaboration for the faith of the gospel (GS §22). This encourages an "ecclesiology from below" char-acteristic of the way St. Paul in Ephesians 4 describes members of the church being formed into the Body of Christ. By sharing our truth in the spirit of love, we are to "grow in every way into him who is the head, Christ." The sharing is by dialogue, which had been promoted by Pope Paul vI in Ecdesiam suam and would be declared by Vatican II to be the special charac-teristic of the mis-sion of the church today (GS §82): "In virtue of its mis-sion to enlighten the whole world with the message of the gospel and to "r ~ gather together into one spirit all women and men of every nation, race, and culture, the church shows itself as a sign of that amity which renders possible sincere dialogue and strengthens it." By this we are challenged as religious to evaluate how we form ongoing community life, and what sign value it provides for others. Are we living "that amity which renders sincere dialogue and strengthens it"? At Coachella we did receive something of a posi-tive answer regarding the sign value of our community life. Three years after we arrived, the diocese conducted a thorough evaluation of the parish put into our care. One group of parishioners reported that before we came to the parish they were highly critical of one, another as parishioners. But, having noticed that the Holy Cross , 'We are challenged as religious to evaluate how we form ongoing .,community life, and what sign value it prov!des for others. 69.3 2010 Nogosek ¯ Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice 294 priests and brothers never voiced a word of criticism towards one another, they decided they also should act that way toward one another. This had not happened sim-ply from our faithfulness to prayer and our apostolic zeal as a religious community. We had made the sacrifice of having weekly house chapters, where we shared with one another what was on our minds and in our hearts. Atoleast in this respect, we hhd succeeded in being "a sign which can and ought to attract all the members of the church to an effective and prompt fulfillment of the duties of their religious vocation" (LG §44). Certainly the religious vocation of all the parishioners was to live out the New Commandment byloving one another aiad making it vis-ible. We also knew that the parishioners were .to see us as a sign that "heavenly blessings'? were already present in this wtrld, foretelling "the resurrected state and the glory of the heavenly kingdom" (LG §4). For that to take place, we would have to show the people that we loved them just as they were, and in very concrete ways. The Rich Man and Lazarus According to the council, religious are "to give an increasingly clearer revelation of Christ," which includes his choosing to live as a poor man, as also was chosen by his virgin mother (LG §46). Here Vatican II was not saying anything new. What was new, and espe-cially challenging, was that as members of the church we are to evaluate the image we give to the world in light of the parable of the rich man and Lazarus (Lk 16): "Everyone must consider his neighbor without excep-tion as another self, taking into account first of all his life and the means necessary to living it with dignity, so as not to imitate the rich man who had no concern for the poor man Lazarus" (GS §27). Review for Religious Here again we are challenged to evaluate our sign value as a religious community. According to Gaudium et spes (§88), if we are living in a nation where "a majority of citizens who are counted as Christians have an abundance of this world's goods," we are in grave danger of causing scandal to the many nations where the majority are not Christian, and where the citizens "are deprived of the necessities of life and are tormented with hunger, disease, and every kind of misery." The council says that this is "as if Christ himself were appealing to the charity of his followers through the mouths of these poor people." How will Jesus see our life as a religious congrega-tion when he comes on the Last Day? How certain are we to be among those at his right hand when he comes in glory to judge the members of all nations by the cri-terion of how they served the needy? An Acceptable Sacrifice .Since Vatican II saw the mission of Jesus being con-tinued by the church, Pope John Paul II liked to repeat that the way of the church is to be the way of Jesus Christ. Jesus said we must lose our life for his sake in order to find it (Mt 10:39). He told those who wanted to follow him: "Foxes have dens and birds of the sky have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to rest his head" (Lk 9:58). St. Paul wrote that by our bearing affliction "the love of God will be poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us" (Rm 5:5). Like St. Paul, we do not want Jesus to have died in vain, nor that his presence touch only those who believe in the Eucharist. As friends of Jesus, we want to help him make the world better, that the pleasing aroma cre-ated by his presence in us may indeed be, as St. Paul says, not as "an odor that leads to death" where people 69.3 2010 Nogosek ¯ Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice reject gospel values--but rather "an odor of life that leads to life" (2,Co 2:16), where people are attracted to a gift of freedom to be themselves through sharing the wisdom, help, and love of the Holy Spirit. But today, as consecrated women and men "eval-uating the contemporary world wisely in the light of faith" (PC §2), we must ask whether the way we live our religious profession is truly becoming "an accept-able sacrifice." Jesus said that before he returned "the love of many would grow cold" (Mr 24:12), and he asked whether he would find faith upon the earth when he came again (Lk 18:8). Notes ~ It takes about seven minutes for the host to dissolve in the stomach and the consecrated host to be no longer present. 2 Although some church leaders interpret these signs as today's troubles and thus may see the world as especially hostile to the gospel, I would argue that according to Vatican II our times are today's evangeli-cal opportunity prepared by God's Spirit breathing over the world. 3 Francis Trochu, The Curi of Ars (Rockford, Illinois: TAN Books and Publishers, 1977), pp. 116f. 296[ Gamble If l but touch his clothes. Mark 5:28 Did the soldier who won and wore the seamless robe allow it to touch him? Irene Zimmerman OSF Review for Religiou~ 'JEFFREY MICKLER Coping with the Genuinely Difficult Religious Itw"googled" the term "difficult people" and instantly o hundred million sites were found. Business managers, owners, and employees are all seeking answers on how to cope with people who are genuinely difficult to get along with. The hilarious 1980 movie Nine to Five told of the revenge three female employ-ees took against their male chauvinist boss. In real life, however, revenge is never a solution, and dealing with difficult people is never really funny. Hence, there are books like Sandra A. Crowe's Since Strangling Isn't an Option. Difficult people drain others' enthusiasm and suck the life out of organizations, as the title Working with You Is Killing Me by Katherine Crowley and Kathi Elster suggests.' Dealing with difficult people in the workplace is one thing. Living with them in a religious commu- Jeffrey Mickler SSP has worked in formation and various other min-istries and was provincial of the Paulists' United States Province. His address is Box 595; 9531 Akron Canfield Road (Rt 224); Canfield, Ohio 44406. 69.3 2010 Mickler ¯ Coping with the Genuinely Difficult Religious 298 nity raises the bar. Although all of us can be difficult at times, some religious are chronically difficult and even hostile. Augustine Poulain SJ in his 19th-century spiritual classic The lnterior Graces describes one type of difficult religious: Another trial., is living with an irritable person who finds fault with everything, never speaks a pleasant word . These difficult characters often have the reputation of being very amiable abroad because they are full of attention for those whom they need, or those who would not allow themselves to be bullied. These nervous natures may be likened to torpe-does on account of the charges that they let fly at those who .approach them. It is impossible to arrange any matter with them clearly and quietly. Above all, let no one try to excuse himself when they accuse him of anything or [try to] prove to them that they are mistaken . The volcano will then be in full eruption. Such minds will never be in the wrong; they alone are endowed with sound judgment. This behavior shows., a grave lack of charity. In community, characters of this. nature make life very difficult for others, and are sometimes the cause of abandonment of vocations.2 Father Stephen Rossetti, of St. Luke Institute in Silver Spring, Maryland, in his recorded conference Spirituality of Christian Leadership, describes such people as suffering "chronically impaired social functioning." These individuals have "inflexible, maladaptive ways of dealing with other people." Wherever they are sta-tioned, they divide and disrupt communities. Their nat-ural charm ensures that they will have some supporters, but their anger at the world for not revolving around their needs makes them almost impossible to live with. When confronted by authority with a long list of com-plaints, these people blame others and are unable to Review for Religious grasp that they themselves have caused any problems. Father Rossetti points out that they have narcissistic personalities. When confronted, they erupt into a rage that sends shock waves through a community.3 Some of them end up living in their own apartments because provincials can find no communities willing to tolerate daeir divisive behavior. Rossetti says the chances of changing them for the better are extremely slim. Traditional therapies have proven fruitless. He advises giving such persons honest feedback, together with strict and clear guidelines for their behavior. Leaders must be compas-sionate towards them, but firm. ¯ theses.temperaments. The leadership has a responsibility to do all in its power to prevent them from terrorizing the community and running roughshod over people.4 Rossetti's position that modern therapy can do lit-tle to change such characters corresponds to Poulain's 19th-century assessment: "I have seen very religious persons try to cure themselves of this irritability. They have been unable to succeed . I think a miracle is required to overcome these temperaments.''5 Se~in Sammon of the Marist Brothers has done extensive research on dealing with difficult people. Drawing upon the works of Robert M. Bramson, Charles J. Keating, and Robert L. Veninga and James P. Spradley, he has developed a pragmatic and effective ~ have seen very religious persons try t6 cure themselvesof this irritabiiity. I think a miracle 'is rdqyire~:to overcome 69.3 2010 Mickler * Coping with the Genuinely Difficult Religious 300 approach that is presented on tapes from St Pauls/Alba House, Coping with the Genuinely Difficult Person. Like Poulain and Rossetti, Sammon acknowledges that efforts to change truly difficult people are basically fruitless. He suggests, however, ways we ourselves can change in order to better cope with them.6 He lists seven types of difficult people.7 He calls all of the first three types hostile-aggressive: they are "Sherman tanks," "snipers," and "exploders." The Sherman tanks are convinced of their ideas and dominate meetings by discounting out of hand the suggestions of others. They present their own ideas as the only rational, workable thing for the community or committee to adopt. They refer to other approaches as "stupid," a "waste of time," or "ridicu-lous." Sammon suggests meeting the Sherman tanks with calm strength. When the Sherman tanks begin to roll over a meet-ing, the chair should let them go on for a while but then abruptly intervene: "Stop right there; we have heard your objections; now we need valuable input from others." Sherman tanks will most likely add a few new objections until the chair or the presenter interrupts: "We will be covering those objections and discussing them as the meeting goes on!" Participants, present-ers, and leaders need to stand up for themselves against the Sherman tanks, clearly explaining their positions, not backing down, but avoiding a fight. Hostile-aggres-sive individuals almost always "win" in a fight, but the Sherman tanks usually respect such strength. They often do have valid insights that the community can benefit from; it is their ways of behaving that make it hard for the community to consider their input fairly. "Snipers" will make remarks that are just barely audible to the person being targeted. The remarks are Review for Religious biting and sarcastic, and the victim is supposed to laugh them off. These are different fr

Issue 64.4 of the Review for Religious, 2005. ; Praying Calling Rehgious Life Perspectives The Spirit QUARTERLY 64.4 2O05 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we ~y to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul VI said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ \\feb site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ Pontifical College Josephinum 7625 North High Street ¯ Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid :at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2005 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must hear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ~ gournalof Catholic S~iri~uali~ eli Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff VVebmaster Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp .Clare Boehmer ASC Steve Erspamer SM Kaddeen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishoi~ Terry Steib SVD Miriam D. Ukerifis CSJ QUARTERLY 64.4 2005 contents prisms 340 Prisms 342 355 praying Mary, Woman of the Eucharist: A Contemplation James A. Rafferty details the unique participation of Mary in the Eucharistic sacrifice of Jesus, a proximity to Eucharistic presence that envelops her entire being. Personal Prayer and Group Reflection From Centering Prayer to Christian Meditation Ernest E. Larkin OCarm provides a personal account of his study and experience of centering prayer and contemplation and Christian Meditation. Reflection Questions 369 380 calling Rekindling the Fire: Vocation Efforts Sefin D. Sammon FMS writes a letter to his own brothers to encourage practical measures to be adopted for encouraging vocations to religious life. Reflection Questions Don Bosco's Continuing Mission to Youth Leo J. Heriot SDB shares the dream of the young John Bosco that continues to shape the Salesian apostolate and system of education. Review for Religious 386 405 r Oi ious p rspe ivss The Council as Catalyst Elizabeth McDonough OP gives a snapshot picture from her own experience of living religious life in the light of the happening of Vatican Council II. Monks' Stability and Punxsutawney Christian Raab OSB suggests that a monk's vow of stability offers the opportunity to transform one's life instead of becoming stuck in the repetition of daily life. 410 spirit Led by the Spirit: St. Augustine Andrew Ryder SCJ presents the three movements in Augustine's life that are key to understanding his doctrine on the Holy Spirit. 424 429 436 443 Scripture Scope: Mark's Gospel and Jesus' Radical Humanity Canonical Counsel: Canonical Federation Book Reviews Indexes 64.4 200Y prisms Te main character in a popu-lar TV show called "Joan of Arcadia" finds that God speaks to her. God is always surprising her by speaking through quite different people-- sometimes young and at other times old or in-between, sometimes male and at other times female. This young woman is portrayed as a very ordinary person, but her experiences of God seem to set her apart. If we were to be asked where most consistently we experience God, I doubt that many of us would say that we hear God speaking to us. In fact, we tend to be wary of people who hear "voices" or God speaking to them. Yet the God of the Old and New Testaments is a communicator. We identify the scriptures as the word of God. Christian prayer has always been understood as a dialogue, with both God and ourselves speaking and listening to each other. What we are sometimes slow to recog-nize is that God communicates not just in words. In the whole world of creation, God is speaking. Our personal talents, our gifts, our traits tell us that God has loved us personally into existence. People have always found the majesty of God in the surging of the ocean's Review for Religious waves, in the soaring heights of mountain peaks, and in the rosy-fingered morning sun. Certain people coming into our lives make real to us the call, the concern, the compassion of God. Their very presence makes us feel touched by God. We Catholics have always held our saints in great esteem and affection. They continue to touch us with God's presence. We remember our dead because they too, strikingly holy or not, have spoken to us of God's care. We ask for their help because they relate us to God. And so God speaks to us not only in the sacred words of Scripture, but also through people and things and events of our everyday environment. Modern psychology has made us aware that we com-municate through body language. God, too, uses body language to talk to us. Every time we celebrate Christmas we can "hear" what God is saying to us through the baby Jesus. No one is frightened by a baby--seeing no stern judge or a wrathful and punishing monarch. The baby Jesus reaches out and hands himself over to us in great freedom and trust and love. This baby in a manger-- Jesus--is God speaking. The wonder of Christmas brings home to us how, first among all .the other ways of com-municating, God's incarnate Word speaks to us. What we need to observe in a more daily way is the silence of a Christmas night so that we can watch and listen. Perhaps that is our New Year's resolution. David L. Fleming SJ ES. The Review for Religious staff and board mem-bers pray for a holy and blessed Advent and Christmas seasons for all of our readers. 64.4 2005 JAMES A. RAFFERTY Mary, Woman of the Eucharist: A Contemplation praying This reflection looks at the relationship between Mary and the Eucharistic Lord. It attempts to show, in particular, Mary's intimate presence to the Eucharist. As a woman at the center of God's love for all humanity, Mary may properly be identified as Woman of the Eucharist, the title both reverential and affectionate that Pope John Paul employs in his encyclical Ecclesia de Eucharistia. This title is not merely a clever the-ological phrase about Mary symbolizing the entire church by her faith and receptive coop-eration. The title is about Mary's profound spir-itual relationship with her Son. Attuned as no other to the intimate communion deep within the Trinity, Mary singularly understands Jesus' Eucharistic heart as it embraces all humanity in choosing Calvary, where self-surrendering love is displayed in shocking degree. James A. Rafferty, a priest of the Diocese of Scranton, is chaplain and a campus minister at Marywood University; 2300 Adams Avenue; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18509. Review for Religious More than a theological category or doctrinal for-mulation, Mary, Woman of Eucharist, sings the hymn of one woman's surrender to the divine Love that gently invites people to become more like itself. The sacra-mental Eucharist we celebrate today has its peak expres-sion in the Last Supper that opens the original drama of the paschal mystery, but Jesus' Eucharistic offering is not limited to those hours of his life. Rather, his entire being may be described as Eucharist--sacrificial self-offering emboldened by an enormous gratitude. Mary's life, too, chants her Son's Eucharistic hymn of praise and self-gift long before she accompanies him to the moment when he hands over all that he is on the cross. Eucharistic tones reverberate in Mary's immaculate con-ception, in the annunciation, in her hearing her Son pro-claim the kingdom, in her presence at Calvary, and in her sharing in the Easter glory. The first Eucharistic moment in Mary's life, as in everyone's, is the moment of conception. Like everyone else, Mary receives her unique and unrepeatable iden-tity as nothing other than gift, gift to herself and to the world. Births celebrate the overflowing of love from the Trinity's heart into time and space, letting itself be known in the life of another. Life itself means receiving what we cannot give or produce on our own. This divine gift is always more splendid than cellular interactions and anatomical functions. The Spirit of God breathing into clay sacramentalizes the loving communion of the Creator with the created. Physical existence, even veiled in the womb, announces the divine creative imagination that renders each life sacred by bearing the image and likeness of the Triune God. While every new human life arouses awe and thank-fulness in the presence of this loving gift from God, the humble daughter of Israel has an unprecedented 343 64.4 2005 Rafferty * Mary, Woman of the Eucharist: A Contemplation God creates Mary as one ready to welcome, grace without resistance, Eucharistic glow from her immaculate conception. The child of Anne and Joachim receives from her first instant the totally unmerited gift of being preserved by God from all stain of original sin. God creates Mary as one ready to welcome grace without resistance. Her very dis-position is to seek always what is the delight of her Creator and Lord. In her immaculate heart Mary bows before the tender stirrings of the Spirit of Yahweh. She never lurches away from the Lord in willful-ness. Her submission to God is like the strings of a peerless violin at the touch of a skilled violinist. The instrument exists precisely to give resonance to the master's melody and fill the air with music. The violinist's touch is not subjugation. It frees the instrument to be its fullest self. Mary cooperates wholly in all that God desires for her. We pray during the liturgy for something of her receptivity when we say, "Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word, and I shall be healed." Although these words originate in Jesus' encounter with a centurion concerned for his servant's health, the litur-gical context may suggest Zacchaeus, delighted to wel-come Jesus to his home and almost happy at not concealing how much his soul has needed tidying up. As we approach the altar to receive the gift of Jesus' Body and Blood, it seems that Jesus wishes to evoke within us Peter's change of heart: first refusing to let Jesus wash his feet and then eagerly conceding at Jesus' insistence. Again, the Immaculate Conception is a permanent stance of receptivity. We seek that disposition in our own prepa-ration for Communion. Review for Religious The Eucharistic motif appears in Mary's life also in her obscurity and poverty. Her simple, humble existence in a tiny village reflects the Eucharist. There Mary depends utterly on God. Mary experiences a real, not just a romantic, poverty. She feels with all who are poor the realities of hunger, cold, and powerlessness. For her the cry of the poor is not a hypothetical, poetic verse; it echoes her authentic abandonment to the Lord's provi-dence in situations where human efforts do not accom-plish much. There is more here than a passive resolve to endure difficulty and want. Mary finds comfort and assur-ance in a faithful God who has pledged never to aban-don the people he has chosen to be his own. As a woman of actual poverty, Mary relates to God as the provider of her daily needs. She carries within her a practiced confi-dence that God attends to her hunger and thirst, a heart-felt trust that breaks into the praise of the Magnificat. She lives out of the consciousness that it is God who feeds, nourishes, and sustains. Her poverty expresses sol-idarity with every child of the Covenant who awaits God's saving action. Such indomitable hope, passed on across centuries, has been planted deep in Mary's heart. Mary's Eucharistic living is evident in the moment when divinity unites with human flesh at her consent, "Let it be done to me according to your word." The Lord instituted the sacramental Eucharist for us to con-sume and thereby have the divine life pulsing strongly within us. Mary's "yes" to the invitation of God fore-shadows our "amen" at being offered the Eucharist. Amen here means "Yes, I believe it is the Body of Christ, and, yes, I wish to receive it." It is implicitly a consent that the Body of Christ broken, offered, received, and consumed may effect a change in us who partake.of it. As believers we surrender before the mystery in a way similar to Mary's "Let it be done to me." Like Mary at the annun- 64.4 2005 Rafferty * Mary, Woman of the Eucharist: A Contemplation 346 ciation, in the Eucharist we implicitly desire that the Trinity take over our life so that our identity, fused with Jesus himself, lets itself be guided by God the Father. When the angel appears to Mary with the message that she will conceive and bear a son who will be called Son of the Most High, she perceives the compassion radiating from the heart of God. This radiance accom-panies the self-surrender of the God who comes to dwell in flesh. By the grace of the Holy Spirit, Mary is drawn into God's plan, which includes Calvary. In the powerful current of paschal love, she more than anyone else glimpses the yearning of God to heal the rift that sin causes in the relationship between Creator and creature. Every act of God in the salvific economy bears a paschal orientation, and Mary intuits the paschal horizon of God's project. That is, she senses the truth of what she meets in the annunciation--a self-offering Love that knows no limitation. Lacking the vocabulary of Trinitarian theology, Mary nonetheless encounters the Father offering his Son in the power of the Holy Spirit. She experiences deep within her the distinct energies of the Trinitarian per-sons, as if eavesdropping on the dialogue of the Trinity's plan for her. Mary knows, then, a Father sharing his Son with her, and she knows this contemplatively in the depths of her being. Mary's pregnancy does not begin as a mere procedural accomplishment, as valued posses-sions are handed over to faithful friends for safekeeping. Because the Spirit of God fills her, Mary senses the meaning of this act for the Father. The Father is hand-ing over to her, and through her to all humanity, that which is most precious to him, his beloved Son. Mary knows this with her whole being. She knows, too, the Son's active participation in this gift-giving. Before the throne of the Father in heaven, Review for Religious the Son exercises the characteristic obedience that he will manifest in the world even to death. Mary'sfiat opens the path for the eternal Word to enact his incarnation in space and time. The Son exchanges the omnipotence of divine majesty for confinement in the womb of a young woman. The Second Person of the Trinity assumes human nature in its meekest form and progresses accord-ing to the physiological laws of the human condi-tion. Mary, of course, does not, by virtue of her experience of the annun-ciation, have unrestricted access to the mind of God. She remains thor-oughly finite. Like every other human being, she knows only what she can experience. There pre-cisely do we find the glory in the incarnation, the splendid miracle that Mary is the first to perceive--God revealed in human frailty. Mary is present to the moment when the Son clothes himself in the frailty, dependence, poverty, and even death that mark every human life. The words of consecration so familiar in the Eucharistic Prayer are already subtly present at the annunciation. "You will conceive and bear a son." "How can this be?" "The power of the Most High will over-shadow you." It is as if all of creation--a suffering world yearning for the healing that it is helpless to achieve on its own--has been imploring the Holy Spirit, in one great wordless epidesis, to fill the virginal womb with life. And God responds by making himself present in history for children and adults to see, hear, and touch--and be Mary is present to the moment when the Son clothes himself in the ~ailty, dependence, poverty, and even death that mark every human life. 347 64.4 200Y Rafferty ¯ Mary, Woman of the Eucharist: A Contemplation touched by. Mary's response is personal and collective. She speaks on behalf of a wounded race. Generation after generation of messianic hope permeates the Jewish faith. In Mary and others like Anna and Simeon, this hope is not merely a passive waiting and watching. More than that, it is an ever intensifying desire, calling upon God fervently and ceaselessly from amid the welter of the human condition. Here is the imploring epiclesis to which the Father answers in the incarnation of his Son. To this intensification of Jewish prayer may be added the human hearts all over the world humbly defenseless under the weight and the stings of evil. Moved by their sobs and their silence, God intervenes decisively. Through the Holy Spirit and Mary's yes, God's Son becomes present in her womb. This is similar to what occurs in the liturgy. Mary offers herself in conjunction with the cries of a people lost in darkness, and the Holy Spirit completes her offering infinitely by bringing about the presence of Jesus in her womb. The divine love in this human form is Light itself amid earth's darkness. Surrendering himself to the human condition, the Son of God encompasses the human race's sad history in himself. He submits himself to the force of evil that pummels, confuses, and obliterates. At the first moment made possible by Mary's assent, the world begins to hear the Son whisper, "Take this, all of you, and eat it, this is my body; take and drink, this is my blood, given up for you." Mary silently possesses more than an inkling of the self-surrender that God envi-sions. The Son empties himself by taking on human nature, and Mary nourishes humanity's self-sacrificing Savior towards his birth. She and he both anticipate his self-offering on the cross, the offering that rises from burial into resurrection a~l is present each time the Eucharist is celebrated. Mary's praying heart delights in Review for Religious the wonder, adoration, and gratitude with which she accompanies the Child she carries. With maternal love she worships thankfully the Presence within her in a unique Communion. The proclamation of the kingdom of God, too, is redolent of the F~ucharistic. In the Spirit, all grace of whatever form moves human hearts to Communion. People's gifts or fruits of prayer come to naught unless they seek and find some externalization in unity, in Communion. The Spirit is Communio, and all grace drives toward perfect fulfillment in the heavenly ban-quet, the wedding feast of the Lamb, for which the litur-gical sacrifice prepares us. No wonder, then, that the New Testament's Eucharistic imagery appears in the ear-liest moments of Jesus' public ministry. At the Jordan, Jesus, who is without sin, does not accept John's baptism as a gesture of solidarity with weaker brothers and sisters. He is maturely aware of his right relationship with Yahweh. His decision to approach the Baptist, like his acceptance of the cross, manifests publicly the full sur-render to the Father's will that he has made in prayer many times. Here at the Jordan, Jesus offers himself unreservedly to his Father's plan. He pledges himself to the kingdom that John has heralded. In sublime intimacy the Son prays, "Take this, Father, it is yours." He hands over to the Father all that he receives: his body, his energy, his desire, his relationships; his future. At the Jordan, at the proper time, the Son relives on earth his own unseen choice in eternity to become incarnate. His Father accepts his self-offering and blesses it with the epiphany that confirms the beloved Son's identity. As Jesus undertakes his public ministry, right from the beginning he gathers a community from people who have little in common other than their friendship with Jesus and the willingness to risk being in his company. 64.4 200~ Rafferty * Mary, Woman of the Eucharist: A Contemplation Mary playsa role in , this formation of Christ's followers inlto a Eucharistic coinmunityi Jesus does not announce the kingdom as some exhila-rating new ideology or political vision. Rather, he forms relationships and then sees to it that they form rela-tionships with one another. And he gets them sharing in his own relationship, his own communion, with the Father. Today the Eucharistic table is the special place where the Father reaches out to his sons and daughters and where they seek the deep unity among themselves that they find occurs only when God is in their midst. In celebrating the Eucharist, Christians accompany Jesus and attend to his words and actions, and he forms the church in his paschal love just as he did with his first disciples. Mary, Woman of the Eucharist, plays a role in this formation of Christ's followers into a Eucharistic com-munity. Here this does not mean intuitions of their rit-ual participation in the Mass. Rather, it means learning a new way of being loved by God. Their souls are being awakened to tolerate and then to rejoice that Jesus comes not to be served but to serve. The Spirit is slowly instructing them in the language of God's heart, which speaks most eloquently in the silence of Good Friday. But, preparing for that day, Jesus brings his friends and coworkers home with him to Nazareth and to Mary. They have left home and livelihood to stay with him. They are good people, but they carry the soot of the world with them. Their hands and their hearts are stained with the grime of laboring in a world pol-luted by greed, prejudice, dishonesty, violence, and cynicism. Review for Religious As if in a retreat in preparation for the work of the kingdom, the disciples notice the warmth of pure love between Jesus and his mother. The home at Nazareth serves as a chapel of adoration, of deep devotion, where the love that the graced human spirit is capable of becomes visible. In Jesus' relating with Mary, there is no hardness of heart, no defensiveness, no secrecy, no inse-curity. The disciples could not have resisted being affected by the goodness of this mother and this Son. Long before Mary and John's presence on Calvary, Jesus is already drawing his friends into Mary's universal moth-erhood. At the same time, Mary quietly rejoices as she watches the glow of Trinitarian communion dawn in the lives of others. As the church begins to form, Mary joy-fully waits at the center to share what she has received. Eucharistic nuances continue to pervade Mary's dis-cipleship of her Son, especially in her loyal, fearless par-ticipation in his death and resurrection. The full meaning of the Via Crucis opens up before people who contem-plate it with Mary's eyes. Mary's consent to the angel at the annunciation reaches its climax in her yes beneath the cross, where her heart, united with her Son's, is in perfect obedience to the Father. Mary's obedience is not a horrified resignation to the inevitable, nor a resentful passivity in the face of something she desperately wants to alter. Mary cooperates in the sacrifice of Jesus. Indeed, as Jesus struggles toward the altar of the cross, Mary's spirit accompanies him with the prayer that nothing dis-suade him from his g0al. Whatever dark lies, taunts, or tortuous subtleties the tempter hurled at him in Gethsemane, Mary, in luminous contrast, gently urges him not to give up. Her intense love for Jesus cannot wish him to be other than who he is. In her Son's selfless desire to give himself away out of love, amid the hor-rific brutality of Calvary, Mary gazes upon the heart of 64.4 200Y Rafferty ¯ Mary, Woman of the Eucharist: A Contemplation the Trinity revealed in human history. Wondrously graced, she embraces both the incomparable grief of a woman who witnesses her son's execution and the awe of one who witnesses a compassion as vast as God him-self. Jesus gives forth his last breath, every last spark of energy in his being. For humaniv ~'s sake he surrenders to Mary embraces both the incomparable grief of a woman who Witnesses her son's execution and the awe of one: who witnesses a compassion as vast as God himself. the Father all that he has and is, and Mary watches the birth of a New Covenant. In her excruciating sorrow there is an unshak-able joy. What can possibly convey the significance of her tears shed that day? Hers are tears of pain and also over-whelming delight at a mystery so profound it takes an eternity to contemplate it. Mary does not impede or resist the cross of her Son. She lives and moves in the Spirit of the Father who hands over his beloved Son. Mary deeply comprehends the Trinity's sacrificial love. She is the first human being to understand all that the Eucharistic sacrifice entails. Even more incredible, she prays for everyone to have the courage to approach the sacrifice of Jesus and with her to desire its fulfill-ment in a personal assent to Jesus' self-offering. The Eucharist derives its meaning and power from Jesus' pas-sion, death, and resurrection. Mary teaches the church how to adore the Lord at the foot of the cross, where blood and water flowed from the Savior's pierced side. Jesus' disciples, even his closest friends, had to learn of Review for Religious the empty tomb before their despair turned to hope, but Mary is deeply consoled even as she cradles Jesus' lifeless body in her arms. The resurrection and Pentecost show the redeeming power of the paschal mystery. So do present-day Eucharists. They do it not simply because Christ died on the cross, but because he lives now and forever, some-thing our faith knows. Through her deep faith Mary is already disposed for Easter before her risen Son ever appears. For the faithful woman who can see more than loss and emptiness at Calvary, there is more than the silence of the grave. There is a confident communion with the Father, whose unwavering love Mary knows well. Her soul has felt the tender power of the Spirit bringing to birth what human imagination cannot fathom. Mary has learned well to trust in more than what her senses reveal. She is the authentic contemplative, familiar with the Spirit's movement, and it is not a spirit of despair. She remains a mother in those dark hours. She consoles and encourages the confused, disheartened disciples until the Paraclete fills their hearts with the light of Truth and with Pentecostal fire. Deep faith in the Risen One sees more than any eyes can see. It sees that death itself is not the tragic loss it appears to be, but is the last measure of the prelude to the divine oratorio of eternal life. In the Eucharist, too, participants see and hear more than their senses per-ceive. The bread is no longer bread, the wine no longer wine, but the living presence of Jesus Christ, who makes of his members a living communion. It is Mary who leads the church to the Eucharistic Lord. Hers is no mere external presence or observance or performance. She is intimately involved in her Son's love for the world. Her heart comes to us with the Love that overflows the heart of God. 64.4 2005' Rafferty ¯ Mary, Woman of the Eucharist: A Contemplation Sources Pope John Paul II. Encyclical Letter Ecclesia de Eucbaristia. 17 April 2003. Corbon, Jean. Tbe Wellspring of V~ord~ip, trans. Matthew J. O'Connell. New York: Paulist Press, 1988. Reprinted by Wipf and Stock Publishers. Personal Prayer In the context of the Eucharistic celebration, we might take up the following scripture passages for contemplation: Luke 1:26-38 John 19:25-37 Group Reflection In what ways has this article on "Mary, Woman of the Eucharist" opened up new insights and apprecia-tion for the Mass in our daily living? Review for Religious ERNEST E. LARKIN From Centering Prayer to Christian Meditation T~nPaper is a bit of narrative theology, something y personal journey over the last twenty-five or thirty years trying to practice meditation and contem-plation. My account begins in midstream of my religious life, in the mid 1970s, with my introduction to centering prayer. Basically the journey has been from centering and centering prayer to Christian Meditation, the prayer discipline of John Main (+1982). Three Ways to the Center First, the point of departure. What do I mean by cen-tering and centering prayer? These .terms have become familiar and clearly defined today. It was not always so. Centering and centering prayer meant different things to different people in the 1960s and 1970s. An example is the article by Thomas E. Clarke sJ in the British journal The Way titled "Finding Grace at the Centre.''1 The title may be familiar, because it named a collection of Ernest E. Larkin OCarm wrote for us last in July-August 2003. His address is St. Agnes Catholic Church; 1954 North 24th Street; Phoenix, Arizona 85008. 64.4 2005 Larkin ¯ From Centering Prayer to Christian Meditation essays on centering prayer published by the Trappists in 1978 and again by Skylight Paths Publishing in 2002. The whole article was reprinted except for the last two pages, which at the time represented one of the chief contributions of the article. So I have a quarrel with the editors for deleting the pages and not indicating they did so. Apparently they wanted to highlight the one form of centering prayer they were espousing in the booklet, and so dropped two other prayer forms that Clarke was presenting as ways to the center. In the article Clarke presented a philo-sophical exposition of centering and then posed the ques-tion: How does one make the journey to the center? His answer was threefold. The first way was classical center-ing prayer, the way of dark faith, which proceeds beyond images and concepts and seeks to rest in the indwelling God. The other two ways to the center used imagination and feelings; they were the prayer of images and fantasy and the practice of the examen of consciousness. All three were ways to the center, ways to dispose the soul for the great gift of contemplation. Together they offered a rich and broadly based prayer life. Teachers of centering prayer should have applauded the connecting of centering prayer with other forms of active prayer. Centering prayer is contemplative in intent, but active in method, as are all forms of meditation. Centering prayer was not supposed to replace lectio div-ina, nor to become one's total prayer life. Centering prayer is a spiritual exercise to deepen one's whole spir-itual life, animating, for example, the liturgy and one's devotions. Connecting the three ways put flesh and blood on centering prayer by acknowledging that imagination and human effort can help in the process of centering. Clarke's paper stated a simple and even obvious fact, Review for Religious namely, that the search for contemplation, especially in beginnings, is not an abstract act; it invokes images and thoughts even while it strives to get beyond them. All three ways converge to the center. This was a welcome reminder in the early days of centering prayer. I remember how the insight thrilled me. I talked about the distinctions with Father John Kane, a Redemptorist, who founded a contemplative house of prayer in Tucson, Arizona. We both agreed that the article was a breakthrough because it made room for the imagination at least in the beginnings of con-templative prayer. The search for contemplation was not restricted to forced abstract search; one did not have to empty the mind. Centering prayer was one way to contemplation and a good way, but it was not the only way. Clarke's article contextualized the search for contemplation and freed it from a one-track pursuit based on theoretical textbook definitions. Before this time I had a philosophically correct but pastorally deficient understanding of contemplation as imageless prayer. I thought "Ignatian contemplation," for example, which consists in reliving a gospel story, was a misnomer; the process was meditation, not con-templation. I did not cotton to Morton Kelsey's thesis that the imagination ruled the prayer practice in the church in the first millennium, and that abstract con-templation in the mode of John of the Cross was Johnny-come- lately in the second millennium. Kelsey argued this position in his popular The Other Side of Silence. To my mind, contemplation had no room for images; they Have we had a philosophically correct but pastorally deficient understanding of contemplation as imageless prayer? 64.4 2005 Larkin ¯ From Centering Prayer to Christian Meditation belonged to discursive prayer, the way of meditation, which was a lesser species of mental prayer. But here was Tom Clarke connecting the imagination with centering, thereby broadening horizons in contemplative prayer. The three ways of centering were a significant help to me. Two years earlier, in 1975, I had made a thirty-day Ignatian retreat and came away with the resolution to spend an hour each morning in mental prayer. I was faithful to the hour, but I lacked method. My prayer was amorphous. I read and reflected, I pondered, mused, stirred affections, and made resolutions. I also centered and sat for long periods of silence. But there was no particular order in my pondering. After two years of struggle to be faithful to the hour without a clear methodology, my prayer had became dry and difficult. I "white-knuckled" my prayer, holding on to the bench to fill out the hour. All this may have been a species of the determinada determinacion of Teresa of Avila, but it was probably closer to the "zelus sine scientia corruit" of St. Bernard: "Zeal without knowledge destroys." How long could I hold on? Only the grace of God kept me from giving up on the hour. My efforts in the hour were the same as my practice in the two daily periods of formal meditation in my Carmelite community over the years. These two peri-ods were shorter, usually a half hour each, and I was able to handle them, though somewhat haphazardly. Because they were amorphous, I subsequently looked on them disparagingly. I thought I had wasted a lot of time in my mental prayer. I do not think that way now. I have come to take a more benign view. I realize with Woody Allen that ninety-five percent of life as well as of prayer is showing up. If we are there, putting in time with the Lord, the Lord will do the rest. We should not exag-gerate the role of method. Review for Retigious But method helps. The three ways of Tom Clarke supplied a format for my contemplative prayer. I would do twenty minutes of classical centering prayer, twenty minutes of reflection on the day's readings, and then after Mass twenty minutes ofjournaling. I did not char-acterize the imaginative parts of my prayer--the biblical meditation and consciousness examen--as contempla-tive, but I saw them as part of my pursuit of contempla-tion. Moreover, the active prayers gave permission for elements of imagination to enter my centering prayer. At this time I made a study of the prayer of St. Teresa of Avila in her early premystical years to determine how she employed the imagination in her beginning con-templative prayer.2 She later called this "practice of prayer" active recollection. In the paper I argued that the imagination played a significant role in her practice. Her prayer was her own making, hence active in form; but it was contemplative since her whole effort was to rest in the deep personal realization of the Divine Indwelling. This was her whole prayer. Teresa called it "re-presenting Christ within." Commentators sometimes incorrectly interpret this phrase to mean the imagina-tive recall of some mystery in Christ's life, such as of his being scourged at the pillar. The imaginative recall is part of the prayer, but not its heart, since the recall is only the refocusing of the person in moments of wan-dering. The remembrance of an image from the passion serves the same function as the holy word in centering prayer. The holy word does not detract from the con-templative character of centering prayer any more than the image in active recollection. I concluded my paper on Teresa by saying that her prayer was a mixture of imageless and imaged centering prayer. Today I agree that the term centering prayer should be reserved to the prayer of imageless dark faith. 64.4 2005 Larkin ¯ From Centering Prayer to Christian Meditation 3,60 This primary thrust, however, leaves room for some imagination in the practice of this prayer. Teresa's active recollection, which can rightly be called centering prayer, was both apophatic, that is, beyond imagining and thinking, and kataphatic, that is, with a role for the imagination. These insights into Teresa's prayer confirmed Clarke's suggestion and allowed me to accept a minor but real role for the imag-ination in my own practice and theorizing about con-templative prayer. As late as the year 2000, I was still experimenting with a role for the imagination in my contemplative prayer. I was on another long retreat at the Camaldolese monastery at Big Sur in California. For five weeks I prac-ticed Christian Meditation several times each day. I described three different experiences of my contempla-tive prayer in an article in Review for Religious in 2001.3 Two of the patterns I reported engaged the imagination to a small extent. These points about the imagination and contemplation are not irrelevant; they continue to occupy the attention of writers.4 The Move to Christian Meditation The centering and centering prayer so far described were the focus of my efforts at daily mental prayer for some fifteen years. I did not, however, practice it twice daily as was specified by Contemplative Outreach under the leadership of Thomas Keating. The two periods of twenty to thirty minutes, morning and evening, are essential for the discipline of centering prayer. These periods are catalysts for one's prayer life. They are like workouts in a physical-health regimen, and their role is to bring one's life to a deeper level in one's spirit. The outcome is the goal of contemplation in Carmelite terminology. Review for Religious In the mid 1990s I switched my prayer practice to Christian Meditation, a similar but different form of cen-tering developed by John Main, an Irish Benedictine from England. I did so mainly because I was not satisfied with my practice of classical centering prayer. Christian Meditation is promoted by the World Community for Christian Meditation, headed by Laurence Freeman OSB. The major difference between centering prayer and Christian Meditation is the holy word versus the mantra. "Holy word" and "mantra" are not synonyms. Their dif-ference specifies the two forms of contemplative prayer. Christian Meditation repeats the mantra, usually the biblical prayer "ma-ra-na-tha," which means "Come, Lord," from the begin-ning to the end of the prayer. The holy word, on the other hand, is not repeated continu-ously, but only as needed to renew the consent to the Divine Presence. The holy word expresses the will of the person to rest quietly, silently, in the Lord. The mantra, on the other hand, carries the prayer. John Main does not tire of saying that the mantra is the prayer. It creates the silence that is emptiness and open-ness before God, the silence that invites the Divine Presence. The mantra nurtures the beatitude "Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God" (Mt 5:8). Purity of heart and contemplation are the two hinges of the door of the mantra. The mantra is not magic, but a simple device to shut down ordinary rational activity in favor of silence. How would we explain the major difference between centering prayer and Christian Meditation as the holy word versus the mantra? 361 64.4 2005 Larkin ¯ From Centering Prayer to Christian Meditation 362 Since I switched my daily practice to Christian Meditation ten years ago, I have been faithful to the two times each day. My personal preference for Christian Meditation is not a condemnation of centering prayer; the same fruits and benefits are available in both forms. The choice of one or other of the two disciplines is a personal matter. I feel that centering prayer has a closer affinity with Teresa of Avila than with John of the Cross and that Christian Meditation has a closer affinity with John than with Teresa. I base these opinions on the sim-ilarity between active recollection and centering prayer, and a similarity of absolutes between the nada and the todo in John and the call to kenosis or self-emptying in Christian Meditation. In the final analysis the two approaches are more alike than different. For this reason I have studied them together and emphasized what is common to them. I have published several articles on the two forms, which I hope to gather into a book. The leaders in the two movements work closely together and see their ministries as parallel. One example of this close collaboration is a prayer center in Phoenix called the Cornerstone. It is sponsored by both movements, which share the same space in a former convent in the Carmelite parish of St. Agnes. The Cornerstone offers programs that are sometimes common to both groups and sometimes specific to one of them. It is lay orga-nized and lay directed. The Genius of Christian Meditation I have come to see Christian Meditation as a com-panion piece, a "how to" addition to the teaching of St. John of the Cross on the passage from meditation to contemplation. This area is one of his specialties. He defines in precise terms both meditation and contem-plation and why the transition from one state to the other Review for Religious can be difficult if not traumatic. Meditation for him is a rational activity, the work of the imagination and the discursive reason; it is active and self-directed. Contemplation is passive and receptive of the gift of the love and presence of God. The transition from one state to the other can be disturbing. Beginning contempla-tion may look like a step backward, even total loss. The old way of meditation is no longer appealing or even possible, and the new way of contemplation is not self-evident. The experience is the passive dark night of the senses. It is a great grace, but easily mistaken and open to misunderstanding. John gives his famous three signs to authenticate the state as well as detailed instruction on the conduct to be followed. In discursive meditation one deals with concrete indi-vidual acts, striving to remove the bad ones and to pro-mote good ones. So meditation is analyzing, evaluating, making choices and resolutions. The soul is like a win-dowpane, St. John says, and the work of meditation is to remove the smudges of bad habits and replace them with acts and habits that are bright with the light of Christ. The light of Christ is faith. The window pane is lighted up by faith-motivated activity. Over time the win-dow becomes clear and the soul purified in the matter of concrete choices. The light of faith shines through with fullness, simplicity, and wholeness. This is the light of contemplation. The light is always there, John of the Cross says. It is part of the state of grace. The perception of the light, however, is dependent on being rid of delib-erate sinful habits. John writes as follows: This light is never lacking to the soul, but, because of creature forms and veils that weigh on it and cover it, the light is never infused. If individuals would elimi-nate these impediments and veils and live in pure nakedness and poverty of spirit, as we will explain 64.4 200~ Larkin * From Centering Prayer to Christian Meditation 364 later, their soul in its simplicity and purity would be immediately transformed into simple and pure Wisdom, the Son of God. (Ascent 2.15.4) Thus these graces, when received, are "infused light and love," that is, infused contemplation. The way of con-templation is self-awareness of this new state of being. One simply opens one's eyes and sees and basks in the love and presence of God. At first there will be a going back and forth between meditation and contemplation. John of the Cross gives detailed advice on how to recognize the times for the one or the other, that is, when to continue to meditate and when to rest in the contemplative light and love. His teaching is renowned for its clarity and effectiveness for spiritual direction and retains its place in the life of every budding contemplative. But it is a complicated teaching. Along comes John Main who sees meditation and contemplation in conti-nuity with each other and as one process. The prayer or discipline of Christian Meditation is one dynamic that begins with the mantra and stays with it through multi-ple experiences of God's love. Contemplation is the awareness of Abba's love for me, who am bonded with the Son in the love of the Holy Spirit. The contemplative grows in the appreciation of this love and gets ever more deeply in touch with the knowledge and love that the Tr!nity showers on the world. There is communio, koinonia, participation in the reality of God and his cre-ation. This communion is unitive knowledge, of subject and subject inhering in each other. It is not dualistic knowledge, from the outside, leaving subject and object apart from one another. It is not any particular psycho-logical experience. There is at-oneness, a "common union" or communion, in which the Trinity and the human being enter into what Teresa of Avila called Review for Religious union, namely, "two things becoming one." Communion is the ontological reality; contemplation adds awareness and attention. Not every experience of Christian Meditation is infused contemplation such as John of the Cross has in mind. But every experience is communion and eventually will bring the fullness of contemplation. The commitment to Christian Meditation is a com-mitment to a way of life. The way is always the same; it is the way of the mantra from beginning to end. The goal of the prayer is without limits. One stops saying the mantra only when one is reduced to silence. These are moments of special grace that John of the Cross calls "oblivion" (Living Flame 3.3 5). One resumes saying the mantra as soon as the silence is recognized, because that is the sign that the special mystical grace has passed. John Main's program is one of utter simplicity. He does not stress, though he may acknowledge in theory, the abstract differences between meditation and con-templation or the different degrees of contemplation. But he treats them as one spiritual practice and says explicitly that meditation, meditative prayer, contem-plation, and contemplative prayer are all synonyms. No need to be concerned about essences, he seems to say; the important thing is to grow in purity of heart and recep-tivity to divine grace. The journey is the same in both John of the Cross and John Main, but it is described from different viewpoints. The older John presents objective theology in the manner of the scholastics; the younger John has made the turn to the subject, and his exposition is experiential and practical. Laurence Freeman remarks that John Main's purpose was to start people on the journey and let experience of the prayer teach the rest. The one task proposed is the mantra. The mantra does not deal with obstacles one by one or even supply building blocks for a spiritual edi- 64.4 2005 Larkin ¯ From Centering Prayer to Christian Meditation 566 rice. It silences the mind, emptying it of its contents. The silence makes room for the Spirit to take over. "Be," says John Main," and you are in the Spirit."s The Spirit is already there with Father and Son in the Divine Indwelling. If the soul is silent and receptive, the Spirit will pray there beyond images and thoughts, in sighs too deep for words (Rm 8:26). The Spirit will do this because the soul is open and ready and God wants that mutual indwelling even more than the soul does who is sincerely seeking God. John Main's simple method frees the person so that the presence of the Trinity can come alive and be actualized. When there is space and freedom, the meditator is caught up in the prayer of Jesus. That prayer is the one and only prayer in the world since the Incarnation, because it is the love between Father and Son and envelops all of creation. Faithful meditators are woven into that salvit]c love. The journey with the Son to the Father will traverse the stages of Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross. Christian Meditation will be the vehicle, the discipline to get one going and to help one stay on the path. These are astounding claims for Christian Meditation. Their jus-tification is the beatitude "Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God" (Mt 5:8). The silence of the mantra produces the purity of heart, and the reward of purity of heart is the love of God, of people, and of the world found in the gift of contemplation. How does silence accomplish this twofold task? By allowing one to escape from the false self by placing one beyond the toils of ego and the world it creates, by free-ing one from the imprisonment of false desires. This healing produces purity of heart. The new freedom allows one to go deeper into the spirit, the domain of the Trinity. The reality of this state is primary and comes before awareness and appreciation. The reality is called Review for Religious communio or participation in the life of God; the aware-ness is contemplation. The Spirit will give us contem-plation when we are ready. Contemplation is thus the outcome of faithful prac-tice of the mantra. Contemplation is the life of God received, the backdrop and engine of one's whole spiri-tual life. It is the life that animates one's community rela-tionships, one's ministry, and one's prayer. The short definition is the realization of God's love for us, "the love of God poured forth in our hearts by the Holy Spirit, who is given us" (Rm 5:5). Contemplation is the outcome of a faithful life. It means claiming what was there from the beginning. It is the Abba experience of Jesus. In his human life Jesus was filled with the Father's presence and love. Certain events like the baptism or the transfiguration were climactic experiences of that love, but Jesus abided in that love always. He looked out upon the world bathed in the Father's love. He was the "beloved Son," and in him the reign of God was estab-lished on the earth. That reign is the kingdom of God's presence and love. It is the resurrection experience. It fills the world with the grandeur of God. Christian Meditation promises this contemplation. Each practice will not necessarily bring forth a recog-nizable, reflexive experience of that love. But every exer-cise will put one a little more in touch with it and will be an experience of communion, of koinonia, of participation in that love. Transformation is taking place, slowly, incre-mentally, and the Christian is being formed in the Wisdom of God, the Son of God, in whom we live and move and have our being. Christian Meditation can indeed be one practical response of meditation and con-templation in our troubled times. 64.4 200Y Larkin ¯ From Centering Prayer to Christian Meditation Notes 1 Way 17 (1977): 12-22. 2 "Teresa of Avila and Centering Prayer," in Carmelite Studies 3 (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1984), pp. 203-209. 3 "An Experience of Christian Meditation," Review for Religious 60 (2001): 419-431. 4 See, for example, Brian V. Johnstone CSSR, "Keeping a Balance: Contemplation and Christian Meditation," Review for Religious 63 (2004): 118-133. s John Main: Essential Writings, ed. Laurence Freeman (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 2002), p. 105. Reflection Questions 1. In the light of Father Larkin's prayer journey, how would I describe some major moments in my own prayer growth? 2. "The commitment to Christian Meditation is a commit-ment to a way of life." What meaning do I give to this statement? 3. Let Larkin's story elicit a group's sharing about the joys and difficulties of praying. Review for Religious SEAN D. SAMMON Rekindling the Fire: Vocation Efforts Dear Brothers and all who cherish the charism of Marcellin Champagnat, It is early morning here in Rome. The last guests from Saturday evening's vigil celebration of the founder's feast have departed, the house is quiet, and the first hours of a new day are just beginning to unfold. What better time than the dawn of St. Marcellin's day to begin a letter to you about the awakening of vocations to his Little Brothers of Mary. Please join me in this continuing effort, this continuing prayer. Like so many of you, I believe that God continues to move the hearts of young people and call them to a variety of voca-tions within our church. So let us pledge to do our best to foster their generous response, while concentrating our efforts on those called to our way of life and mission as Little Brothers of Mary. After all, our Marist Constitutions and Sefin D. Sammon FMS, superior general of the Marist Brothers, writes again in epistolary form. His address is Fratelli Maristi delle Scuole; C.P. 10250; 00144 Roma, Italy. calling 64.4 2005 Sammon ¯ Rekindling the Fire Statutes reminds us that to do so is a sign of our vitality as an institute. 3:70 Awakening Vocations Well-designed publications, attractive posters, lively and thoughtful presentations that deal with our life and ministry are all ways of cultivating vocations. They all help young people, their parents, and our church to have a better sense of who we are and what we do, and espe-cially to learn something about what we cherish and hold dear. When all is said and done, however, isn't it actually the lives of thousands of brothers over the almost two-hundred- year history of our institute that are our most effective means to awaken vocations? And so your voca-tional tale and mine are good places to start if we want to understand more fully just what we are trying to do. It does no harm to ask ourselves from time to time what first brought us to the life of a Little Brother of Mary and what keeps us here. My own story began when I met the small group of brothers who staffed the high school I attended in the heart of New York City. Even with the distance of years, I can still remember what it was about those men that captured my imagination and my heart. They were obvi-ously religious people, and they appeared happy in their work together and in their commitment to it. There was a spirit of sacrifice among them that somehow appealed to my adolescent soul. And there was passion. This element is at the heart of any vocation worth its salt. Though I may not have rec-ognized it at the time, I realize now that there were some very passionate men in that small group of brothers. In retrospect I can see that, in their love for Jesus Christ and his Good News and for us their students, they shared with us some of the very qualities that our founder Review for Religious inspired in the young men we know today as Francois, Laurent, Jean-Baptiste, Dominique, and Louis-Marie. Even now I find myself surprised at how subtly God was at work in my life, though I surely would never have used that language when I was fourteen. I have to say that I was blessed early in life to meet those men who took delight in helping a rather uncivi-lized crowd of young men to grow up and grow closer to God. These men--many were young themselves--were willing to waste time on us. Time, it was their only currency, and they shared it with us freely and gen-erously. During the years since then, perhaps in imitation or through the mystery of grace, some of my happiest moments have been with young people, sharing their world, their hopes and dreams, their fears and concerns, their ques-tions of faith. Vocation promotion :should neVer be undertaken solely for survival. Vocations for Mission and Not Survival Vocation promotion should never be .undertaken solely for survival. Nor is it simply a matter of numbers. Numbers are not necessarily a sign of viability, nor is age the best measure of vitality. Our zeal for mission, then, rather than a desire to survive "come what may," must be our reason for awakening vocations. This tradition goes back to Father Champagnat. The ever unfolding tale of our institute records that Marcellin's visit to the bedside of a dying teenager is what persuaded him to found a com-munity of brothers with this aim: to proclaim God's Good News to poor children and young people. We know the story well. Discovering that Jean-Baptiste Mongagne knew ¯ " 64.4 2005 Sammon ¯ Rekindling the Fire nothing about his faith, Marcellin instructed him, admin-istered what were then called "the last sacraments," and went on his way. Returning a short while later, he dis-covered that the lad had died. I have often wondered about our founder's thoughts and feelings as he returned home to Lavalla that evening. We can imagine his pace quickening. We know that almost immediately upon his arrival he met Jean-Marie Granjon, who had been a grenadier in Napoleon's army. Picture their conversation taking place on the bridge near what today is the Hermitage. For Marcellin the mission was clear, the reasons for founding a commu-nity of brothers evident. As they talked on that bridge, our founder's passion convinced the former soldier to join him and give his heart to a corporate adventure soon to be known as the Little Brothers of Mary. Marcellin loved the children and young people of his day. More than once he said, "l cannot see children with-out wanting to tell them how much Jesus Christ loves them, and how much I love them." In today's world many children and young people are the victims of war, human trafficking, and the streets. Denied an education and other basic human rights, they are in desperate need of hearing God's Good News. And so, I ask you, do you believe as I do that the mission of our institute is as urgent today as it was in Marcellin's day, and that it will remain so for the foreseeable future? If you do, then let us agree that the awakening of new vocations can no longer be a sideline attraction for you or for me. Instead, we need to develop a plan for promoting vocations and then put that plan into action. A First Set of Challenges A few challenges before we go on. First, a challenge to my brothers in the institute. If you and I want to make Review for Religious vocation promotion a top priority, most if not all of us will need to arrange our other commitments so as to free up twenty percent of our best time for that work. Why twenty percent? Because there is a lot to learn and a great deal of work to be done. We can all beg off, citing good reasons not to get involved. Lack of time, the demands of ministry, age--who among us has not heard that litany before? But, if you and I want a future for the mission and life of our institute, we need to avoid making excuses and, instead, commit ourselves enthusi-astically to promoting vocations. And now a word to my lay partners. I ask you to join us in our efforts to educate parents, the young people in your care and ours, and the church at large about who we Little Brothers of Mary are, what our life is, and what our ministries are. You know us and know what we cher-ish and hold dear. Help others come to know us as you do. And help us, too, by inviting young people to con-sider making our way of life their own. I have no hesi-tation in asking you to give these efforts top priority. All who share our founder's charism should eagerly promote vocations to the brotherhood he established. God's Good News remains to be proclaimed to more children and young people than we might imagine. And what happens if all of us--brothers and lay part-ners alike--decide not to make vocation promotion a major concern and not to give enough time to this impor-tant ministry? What are the consequences? Some would say that a failure to act and act decisively would dimin-ish the probability of a vital and vibrant future for our way of life and ministry. Others would be harsher. If we fail to act, they would tell us, we probably do not deserve a future. In 1822 Marcellin Champagnat faced a vocation cri-sis, the first in the history of our institute. And how did 373 64.4 200~ Sammon ¯ Rekindling the Fire he respond? By taking action, beginning with his pil-grimage to the chapel of Our Lady of Pity. We do well today to follow his example. Today more than a few peo-ple use the term vocation culture to describe an environ-ment in which a call or vocation can take root and flourish. You and I can foster such a culture by believing that vocations to Marcellin's Little Brothers of Mary exist today and that with God's grace and our human efforts we can find and cultivate them. A Pastoral Plan for Awakening Vocations A pastoral plan to awaken vocations can help us awaken vocations to our way of life and ministry. A num-ber of provinces and districts already have a well- A ,pastoral: p!an to awaken vocations can help Us awaken, vocations to our way of life and ministry: designed plan in place. Time will tell of its effec-tiveness. Other provinces and districts can take time or make time to develop a plan. The plan should be comprehensive and include in its details the province or district, all the mem-bers, each community, and every ministry--and, of course, all the others who share Marcellin's charism and want to help promote vocations. In drawing up any plan, you and I are better off con-centrating on what can be done rather than lamenting things we cannot change. In some parts of the world, for example, families are smaller than in the past, young people have far more vocational options to consider, and they may make their life commitments at a later age. Neither you nor I can do much to alter these realities. We can, though, invite young men to our way of life and ministry once again, and we can open our homes and Review for Religious hearts to them. We can also help them and others to understand all that has happened in religious life and in our institute during the forty years since Vatican Council II. Let us do what we can, and not keep wringing our hands about what we cannot change. In making plans we must be sure they are adapted to the culture in which we live. A universal pastoral plan for vocations is unrealistic. Differences exist between regions, and customs vary. What is quite acceptable in one part of our world is looked upon with suspicion in another. And so I offer below just a few ideas to get your thinking started. Be as creative as you can. And do not forget to include in the plan exactly whatyou plan to do personally. a. Province or District Provinces and districts should have at least one full-time vocation promoter, but everyone should promote vocations. The full-time promoter should help the oth-ers to do what they can. There should be a well-designed program that explains contemporary religious life to lay men and women. Some of our brothers will tell you that they feel shaken by the changes in our way of life during the last four decades. In that case, just imagine how shaken the average Catholic may be. In some countries, for example, people feel betrayed and confused about why we no longer staff the local school and do not live in the brothers' house next to the church. A good program could clarify the reasons behind such changes. It could also show that everyone--the laity, bishops and priests, and men and women religious themselves--has a respon-sibility for recruiting new members for religious con-gregations. Some among these groups appear reluctant to do so. I cannot help believing that such reluctance may stem from a lack of understanding about our life today. Catholic parents deserve special attention. At one 64.4 2005 Sammon ¯ Rekindling the Fire 376[ time they were great allies of ours in awakening voca-tions. Today many parents are confused about religious life, about why and how people are still living it. Where their trust has been eroded, we must work to restore it and enlist their aid once again. Our program could include offering an adult educa-tioncourse in a local parish, or as in-service training for faculties in our schools, or as part of parent-teacher con-ferences, or as an Advent or Lenten series. Some could write articles for their parish bulletin or diocesan news-paper. Others could say a few words during or at the end of Mass on Sunday. The means are not quite as impor-tant as the message: our life and mission as brothers is alive and well and ready to receive new members. The work described above could be coordinated by the full-time province vocation promoter. He should not, however, take on these tasks for a local community sim-ply because its members do not want to. His time is bet-ter spent persuading them that the tasks mentioned are rightly theirs and that they have the resources to accom-plish them. Finally, the media and the internet, where avai]able, have great potential to awaken vocations. Where a province web page exists, the vocation pro-moter should make sure that the topic of vocations appears on it and is effectively presented. b. Local Communities Local communities have many opportunities to pro-mote vocations. First of all, though, they should as a group agree to a common plan that ensures that their work will be effective and that nothing will be uselessly duplicated. Prayer must be part of any community's plan. Along with this, three or four times a year a community might invite groups of young people from their school or parish to an open house that is focused on religious life. Such a visit, particularly if it is well planned, can com- Review for Religious municate more about religious life than a series of lec-tures would. Another community might invite parishioners of all ages for a time of prayer, some refreshments, and some friendly conversation, particularly about religious voca-tions. Many people are willing and ready to participate and help, but they need to be asked. A brother's involve-ment in a parish's youth ministry program can be the occasion for young people to learn more about broth-ers and their life. Lay people involved in youth ministry, especially if they know us well, can also raise the topic or answer questions the young may have about religious life. A community might also arrange to print a pamphlet describing our life and mission and place it in the vestibule of the local parish church. In places where the local newspaper or television station does human-inter-est pieces, one or two members of the community could commit themselves to write an article or be interviewed about our life and ministry. c. Our Works Visibility! That should be the yardstick for measur-ing efforts to promote vocations in the institutions where we serve. Posters, pamphlets, days set aside to present the history, life, and mission of the Little Brothers of Mary--all these should be regular fare in any school or social-service project in which we are involved. Our col-leagues and those whom we serve should know clearly just what it means to be one of Marcellin's brothers. While being happily aware that our schools, parishes, and agencies touch others' lives well beyond themselves, we must not overlook those with whom we share min-istry. There may, for example, be lay faculty members in our schools who have given thought, to religious life and our life in particular, but just do not know how to [377 64.4 200Y Sammon ¯ Rekindling the Fire 378 bring up the subject. We should make sure that oppor-tunities exist to discuss the matter, and that they exist in abundance. d. Each Brother and Lay Partner If you asked me to suggest one thing that you as indi-viduals could do to promote vocations, I would answer immediately: Invite young men that you know to think about making our life and ministry their own. Such an invitation by a brother is the factor mentioned most often by young persons and by those further along in years as well. So I say to my brothers: Awaken vocations, find persons who in good time can replace yourselves. And to my lay partners I say: Awaken vocations so as to ensure a vibrant partnership between brothers and yourselves. Without enough brothers, partnership with you is not possible. To all, I offer this reminder: Personal prayer is most important. So pray for those who have religious life on their minds. Pray for them daily. Pray for them by name. If writing is your gift, put it to good use by writing about our life and mission. And if music, or art, or the media world is your passion, use it to awaken vocations. Teach about our life if teaching is your talent; encourage vocations if your gift is to motivate people. Above all, be creative in planning to awaken vocations. Keep asking yourselves how to use your God-given skills to promote vocations. Give twenty percent of your best time to the effort, and do not forget to invite. Blessings and affection, Se~in D. Sammon FMS Superior General Review for Religious Reflection Questions 1) Spend some time thinking about young people that you know. They might be members of your family, the children of friends, students, those with whom you work in ministry, young people in the parish, or elsewhere. Once you have spent some time thinking about the young people in your life, please turn your attention to the questions below. 1. What is it that you most admire about the emerging generation? Take a moment to explain your answer more fully. 2. What is it about the young people you know that most baffles you? Once again, please take a moment to explain. 3. What qualities do you look for in a young man today when considering candidates for our Marist brother-hood? 2) Spend some time thinking about what you might do individually to awaken vocations during this year ahead. What skills can you bring to the task, what will be helpful to young people, particularly those with an interest in our Institute, how can you best convey the many dimensions of our life rather than one or another? Yes, take some time to pray, seek to understand what God is asking of you this year in terms of awakening vocations, and then turn your attention to the ques-tions below. 1. As you look ahead to the coming year, what steps will you take personally to awaken Vocations? 2. What will you do the first month, during the first three months, during the first half of the year? 3. Is there a way you can combine your efforts with oth-ers to have even greater .influence awakening vocations during this time of grace? Please explain. 64.4 2005 LEO J. HERIOT Don Bosco's Continuing Mission to Youth 380[ Jr~hn Paul II's apostolic exhortation on religious life minded us religious of our founders' charisms and what they offer to us, their followers: "Consecrated per-sons live Jbr God and from God, and precisely for this reason they are able to bear witness to the reconciling power of grace, which overcomes the divisive tenden-cies present in the human heart and in society" (Vita con-secrata 41). And in the same vein we have words that mean much to persons consecrated to a mission: "In the image of Jesus, the beloved Son 'whom the Father con-secrated and sent into the world,' those whom God calls to follow him are also consecrated and sent into the world to imitate his example and to continue his mis-sion" (VC 72). The young John Bosco, the son of Francis and Margherita Bosco of Becchi in Turin, had a unique expe-rience at the age of nine, and we can think his mission Leo J. Heriot SDB lectures in Salesian history and also teaches pas-toral psychology and Scripture in Moamoa Theological College; P.O. Box 9226; Apia, Western Samoa. Review for Religious took root at this very time. He had a strange but com-pelling dream, and this dream would return to him often and remind him of this mission of his. Each vocation is unique, and each calling is special, but for God to call a boy of nine and show him his mission in symbolic form is very special. He told about his dream in his own terms, couched in his own plain language, but it seems that the Lord was surely present in it: When I was about nine years old I had a dream that left a profound impression on me for the rest of my life. I dreamed that I was near my home, in a very large playing field where a crowd of children were having fun. Some were laughing, some playing, and not a few cursing. I was so shocked at their language that I jumped into their midst, swinging wildly with my arms and shouting at them to stop. At that moment a man appeared, nobly dressed, with an imposing appearance. He was dressed in white, and his face radi-ated such light that I could not look directly at him. He called me by name. "John," he said, "you will have to win over these boys of yours not with punches, but with gentleness and kindness. So now begin to show them that sin is ugly and virtue is attractive." At this stage John said, "I am still only a boy. How can I influence these children for the better?" But the man of his dream told him that he was to change these boys by acquiring knowledg~ and being obedient to the Lord. As the young John watched, he saw these boys change into goats, dogs, cats, bears, and a variety of other animals. The person of his dream told him, "This is your field where you must work, and to carry out your task you must become humble, steadfast, and strong!" As he looked again, he saw these wild animals change into lambs. In his confusion John Bosco asked the majestic lady who appeared next to him to explain the meaning of this strange thing in his life. She told him, "In time 381 64.4 200~ Heriot ¯ Don Bosco's Continuing Mission to Youth When he was ordained a priest on 5 June 1841, he wondered what his future work would be. 382 everything will be made clear to you, and you will under-stand your apostolate." The next morning during breakfast John told his dream. His brothers scoffed at his simplicity, and every-one, including his mother and grandmother, had differ-ent explanations for this dream. Joseph, his older brother, said he would become a sheep farmer, and Anthony, his step-brother, told him he would probably become the leader of gang of robbers. His mother suggested that he might become a priest, and his wise old grandmother told him not to take any notice of dreams!. This dream when he was nine influenced John Bosco all his life. His apostolate and his system of education would be based on the reflections of this dream. When he was ordained a priest on 5 June 1841, with little or no fuss about the ordination, he wondered what his future work would be and how he was supposed to achieve the mission planned for him when he was a little boy. He was offered one or another parish or chaplaincy in Turin. Uncertain of his choice, he went to his spiritual director, Father Joseph Cafasso, and placed before him the various proposals. Strange as it may seem, his guide told him to go to the Convitto Ecdesiastico, a residential center where priests studied spirituality and moral the-ology according to the teaching of St. Alphonsus Liguori. It was not an academic institute so much as a pastoral center w.here a lecture was given morning and evening and the rest of the day was taken up with priestly min-istrations to people in prison, to families in their neigh-borhoods, and to patients in hospitals, especially the Review for Religious hospice founded by Canon Cottolengo (now St. Joseph Benedict Cottolengo). Later on, Don Bosco would write about his experience in this clerical convitto: "Here I learned what it means to be a priest." Turin in the 1840s was a town filled with young per-sons looking for work. There had been a drought for a number of years, and poverty in the villages had forced many boys and young men into the town seeking employment. Employment was limited, and before long many of them were stealing food or money to survive. They were coming from Lombardy, Savoy, and as far away as Switzerland. Needless to say, with the influx of these young men, the prisons became full. In Turin there were four main prisons, and they were crowded with boys from thirteen to eighteen. Their crimes were more from necessity than malice. Don Bosco made it a point to visit these prisons, tak-ing with him bread, sweets, and tobacco. The conditions were appalling: overcrowded, unsanitary. Loudmouths and foulmouths aired their hatred when these priests came to visit. Many priests from the Convitto Ecclesiastico found it hard to visit the prisoners living in such sub-standard conditions. One described the boys in prison as caged animals, often aggressive and impervious to the kindness of friendship. In his first visit to the prison, where the juveniles were mixed together with the hard-ened men, Don Bosco was treated with disdain. Just after Easter in 1842, however, he invited some prisoners to make a retreat. His friendly concern was slowly seeping into the hearts of the detainees. Some came around, but the going remained difficult. Still, he persevered with his plans, even with the comings and goings. Boys in one prison might be released all of a sudden, perhaps only to be apprehended again and given a sentence in another prison. 383 64.4 2005 Heriot ¯ Don Bosco's Continuing Mission to Youth 384] The success of this retreat becomes evident in what Don Bosco managed to obtain for the boys. After the retreat he asked the official in charge, Urban Rattazzi, whether he could take the prison's juveniles to Stupingi for a picnic. Rattazzi agreed, provided that some police-men went along. Don Bosco bargained with him for another arrangement, no policemen. At eight o'clock, .:when the prison gates opened, the guards said to one another, "Well, this is the last we will see of some of these 260 wretches!" But, at the roll call at the end of the day, all had returned--showing that a little bit of kindness brings out the best in the worst of children. Another of Don Bosco's apostolates was in the neigh-borhoods of Turin. Industries were growing there, and on the building sites boys as young as ten or twelve were often seen lugging heavy loads of bricks and mortar on poorly erected scaffolding. Don Bosco would argue with the contractors, appealing for the boys' safety. When he first went to the building sites, he would hear the boys sneering and snickering as he passed: Ecco lo prete, "Look at the [good~for-nothing] churchman!" He would reply, No, un sacerdote, "No, a priest [who sacrifices and blesses]." He would invite these young boys to his house on Sunday, and many would come for the meal and the instruction he offered them. As a matter of fact, many of these boys became his first Salesians. Don Bosco had enormous persuasive power with the young. Don Bosco's third apostolate in these early years of his priesthood was in Canon Cottolengo's hospice, the Little House of Divine Providence. True love was found there. Don Bosco's special interest was in the section dedicated to the young. Many young persons coming from villages had become the victims of syphilis and gon-orrhea. As a result of these sexually transmitted diseases, young sufferers often finished their lives in this hospice. Review for Religious Don Bosco would often put his head in his hands and say in humble prayer, "What can I do to help these young people avoid these diseases that are symptoms of a loose society?" One wonders whether the spirit that in the 19th cen-tury motivated St. John Bosco--founder of the Salesians and, as Pope John Paul II called him, the Father and Teacher of Youth--can be found once again in a world that seems to have forgotten the importance of heart for educating hearts. Education without love is incomplete and can only end in frustration. Compensation Foliage fallen from its color's weight leaves emptiness in the treetops. I look up through gaps in their circuitry and see more of heaven than I could in June. And now at night as I lie in bed. the highest branches are abloom with stars. Patricia L. Schnapp RSM 64.4 2005 religious life ELIZABETH McDONOUGH The Council as Catalyst perspective W-hen I entered the convent, John xxIII was pope, and John E Kennedy was president of the United States. He was the first Catholic to be elected president. The USSR's Nikita Khrushchev had already been on the cover of Time maga-zine holding Sputnik, the first successful unmanned spacecraft. Vatican Council II had completed its first session, but no documents had yet been issued. The city of Berlin in what was East Germany was divided by a massive and formidable wall that could be breached only at the risk of one's life. The French had recently withdrawn from Vietnam, and some of my high school classmates had already fled to Canada to avoid the military draft as American involve-ment in that war began to escalate. JFK had already experienced the Bay of Pigs fiasco, and Elizabeth McDonough OP, our Canonical Counsel colum-nist, has written a number of articles for us. She holds the Bishop Griffin Chair of Canon Law at the Pontifical College Josephinum; 7625 North High Street; Columbus, Ohio 43235. Revie'w for Religious the Cuban missile crisis had been concluded without a nuclear war. Martin Luther King Jr. had very recendy delivered his now famous "I have a Dream" speech at the Lincoln Memorial. Elvis Presley had appeared on the Ed Sullivan show, the Beatles had finished their first frenzied foray into the USA, and Betty Friedan's Feminine Mystique had iust been published. Within ten weeks of my entering the convent, our nearly one hundred postulants and novices were at choir practice early on a Friday afternoon in November when we heard that JFK had been critically wounded in an assassination attempt in Dallas. We said a prayer and continued singing, unaware that he was already dead. Of the thirty-four postulants who entered the same time I did, twenty-two received the habit almost a year later. No one seemed to think it unusual that so many of the postulants who had entered nearly a year before had now departed. By the time Vatican Council II had concluded in December 1965, Malcolm X had been gunned down, and the Watts riots in Los Angeles were a matter of history. Less than two and a half years later, Martin Luther King was assassinated in Memphis. Riots immediately left burnt-out buildings, mounds of rubble, and shattered lives in much of the nation's capital as well as in other major cities across the country. Two months after that, in June 1968, Robert Kennedy was assassinated while cam-paigning in Los Angeles. Later that summer, antiwar riots disrupted the Democratic National Convention in Chicago. That same year, Mary Daly of Boston College published The Church and the Second Sex, and Richard Nixon, who had lost the election to JFK in 1960, became president of the United States. By July 1969, when America placed a man on the 64.4 2005 McDonough ¯ The Council as Catalyst 388 moon, only a dozen of the original thirty-four postu-lants were still members of my religious community. One month later, on the weekend in August when I professed first vows, a three-day "Music and Arts Festival" was held on a rural farm in upstate New York near the small town of Woodstock. The admission price was $6 a day. The following spring, in May 1970, students at Kent State University protesting the Vietnam War were shot and killed by National Guardsmen. In that same year, for the first time in anyone's memory of our commu-nity's hundred and forty years of existence, no one pro-fessed first vows. The decade of the 1960s was considered by some as possibly the best of times, and by others as positively the worst of times. For American Catholic sisters, it may simply have been, on the whole, the least auspicious of times for the church to suggest that we reassess every aspect of our lives. From the vantage point of nearly half a century, it seems that Pope John's basic intent in convoking the Second Vatican Council in 1959 may have been to initi-ate a radical renewal of all of Christian life. In other words, he may have envisioned a total conversion of mind and heart on the part of all Catholics and even all Christians. It seems he may have intended to sow the seeds of a personal and collective, intellectual and voli-tional metanoia in all believers, so that what Jesus Christ bequeathed to the church might further the salvation of humanity more effectively than it had the first two thou-sand years. Recall that by January 1959, when the council was first announced, the world had just witnessed the most continuously violent, humanly devastating half century in recorded history. From his vantage point, Pope John possibly considered it high time--or time well overdue-- Review for Religious for the whole church to reassess its meaning and role and self-understanding in face of the crying needs of humanity. Recall that Vatican II was convoked before the Berlin Wall appeared almost overnight, before the Cuban mis-sile crisis, before America's seventeen-year involvement in the Vietnam War, before the multiple assassinations and urban violence of the 1960s, before humanity first looked at the world from the moon, before the first ter-rorist attack at the 1972 Olympics, and before the suc-cessful cloning of animals. The council was convoked before the resolution of South African apartheid, before Sarajevo, before Rwanda, before Pol Pot in Cambodia, before Tiananmen Square in China, before the Lockerbie crash in Scotland, before Somalia, before the Gulf War, before Oklahoma City, before Columbine, and long before 9/11. It was convoked before the Iraq War, before Darfur, before the Beslan grade school massacre, before the impact of global warming, and before the global impact of AIDS. What, indeed, we might ask, would John xxIII pos-sibly think now? Perhaps much the same as he was think-ing in 1959, namely, that the church still needs to take a genuinely new look at itself and at the rest of reality in light of the salvation wrought by Christ's life-death-res-urrection- ascension. Whatever any of us may think, say, hope, or regret regarding the Second Vatican Council, few even suspect that the positive potential of its origi-nal intent has yet been realized. This is in part because much more time is needed theologically and practically to assess and to internalize what it said and did. But the council's unrealized potential is also, at least in part, the result, of widely divergent interpretations of its content and meaning which have been categorically co-opted and systematically disseminated by clearly dichotomous seg- 64.4 2005 McDonougb * The Coundl as Catalyst A catalyst initiates a reaction and enables to,proceed under milder conditions than otherwise possible. 390 ments of ecclesial society. For nearly four decades, both sides of this ecclesial dichotomy have consciously sus-tained their combative engagement at all levels of church life. And they have done so with an energy and efficiency that has left most Catholics exhausted and not really very much renewed at all. Meanwhile, any genuine intellectual and volitional conversion that might more effectively bring Christ's salvation to the complex human and spir-itual needs of our battered world has not been afforded a fair chance to begin in earnest. So it seems to me. The title of this article refers to the council as a cat-alyst. A catalyst initiates a reaction and enables it to pro-ceed under milder conditions than otherwise possible. The council did initiate a reaction. When the council began, sis-ters in my community were all known by the names given them when they entered the novitiate. This change initi-ated us into an ego-effacing formation deliberately created to foster an encompassing new way of life. All our sisters lived in convents with local superiors and did things in order of rank from old-est to youngest according to when we had made profes-sion. We all ate in silence while someone read an article or book judged by the superior to be of some signifi-cance (which was often unknown to us who listened as we ate). We all ate whatever was served, though exceptions were made for personal illness. Some sisters seemed to have some personal illness rather regularly. A few seemed to have some personal illness for as long as anyone could remember. We generally washed our own dishes "at table" in a large dishpan of initially clean, soapy water. Review for Religious With rare exception, we never ate at unscheduled times and never ate outside of our own refectory (our term for dining room). We all had three habits: one for Sunday, one for our everyday apostolate, and one for work. Unlike men's reli-gious communities, wherein a habit could often be con-veniently donned or doffed, our habits were the only clothes we had. They were worn at all times except when we went to bed. We were fully "habited" at prayer, at our apostolate, at table, when working in the garden, when doing heavy housecleaning, and even when occa-sionally sledding or playing basketball with sisters around our age during a school break. Depending on where we were stationed (that is, where we were assigned to live and work), the work we did could be teaching a class of fifty or more students, peeling bushels of fruit, running industrial laundry equip-ment, washing dishes for as many as five hundred people, using large, heavy, institutional machines to wax wooden floors that had already been waxed far too many times before, or cleaning with toothbrushes the metal grids on the edges of three flights of stairs. This kind of work was not punishment. It was simply the way we took good care of things. We did almost all of the work ourselves, and almost everything was in perfect condition most of the time. We never wasted anything. Wrapping paper and ribbons, boxes and jars, aluminum foil and plastic containers--all were saved to be used again and again. Our families would joke about our reusing everything and called it "nunny." Nowadays many people do it but they call it ecology. We ordinarily awakened to a bell shortly after four o'clock and almost every minute of every day was sched-uled with some event or responsibility. We all retired at a specified time, usually no later than nine-thirty. 64.4 200Y McDonough ¯ The Council as Catalyst 392 Permission was needed for exceptions. After the "lights out" time, some sisters read books in bed under the cov-ers with a flashligl~t. Our rooms were rather small (about 8 x 14 ft.), but they usually had everything we really needed. Back then what we really needed were a bed, a bedside table, a desk, a bookcase, a chair, a lamp, a closet, and a small dresser. Every room had a crucifix on the wall and a little bottle of holy water on the dresser. We did not hang other things on the walls, and we did not have nicknacks. In some of our convents, a few sisters lived in dormitories with curtains separating generally equal spaces which contained mostly the same furniture. In some convents the rooms might have a small sink and a small easy chair. We had common bathroom facilities, but often the superior's room had a private bath. Superiors also had a small, separate office, and the house treasurer usually did too. We could write to our family once a week. Family members could visit occasionally, oftener and more briefly if they lived nearby, less often and longer if they lived farther away. On these visits we never had meals together. We ate in the refectory with the sisters, and our families ate in the guest dining room. Any gifts our family brought were given immediately to the superior, who transferred the best of everything to the chaplain or the pastor if they were things a priest could use. We all regularly asked permission from the superior for doing such things as opening our mail, using the books at our disposal, and having necessary personal toi-let articles. About once a month the superior conducted a meeting of all the sisters which was known as "chapter of faults." This had been a salutary monastic practice of publicly admitting to the sisters with whom you lived your own externally manifest foibles and failures and then asking forgiveness. But by the 1960s this practice Review for Religious had been truly trivialized into merely mentioning some fault from a previously prepared list of supposedly light or medium or serious ones. They ranged from leaving something out of place to talking during "times of silence." Things we actually did or failed to do that really annoyed one another were mostly not on the list. It did not matter much what a sister mentioned from the list, because the sisters you lived with were already very much aware of your external foibles and failures. Some were even aware of your internal ones. What we actually did or failed to do that really annoyed each other was seldom on the list, - - but these provided the ever-present, unrelenting, mutual sandpaper of our lives together. Every sister knew it, all too well. Most sisters in local-community convents had sev-eral jobs besides teaching. Shortly after first profession I taught five classes of math a day (algebra, geometry, trigonometry) at a co-ed high school of a thousand stu-dents, was in charge of the bookstore (textbooks, sta-tionery supplies), was responsible for the convent cars (keeping them clean, full of gas, and fixed when neces-sary), was convent treasurer ("qualified" because I taught math), and traveled a hundred miles each Saturday for M.A. studies financed by a National Science Foundation grant. What I was doing was not unusual, it seems to me. But we were much younger then. When Vatican II began, the religious community I entered had 720 members. It owned and operated two colleges for women, three highly successful high schools, and a small hospital. All of these had a sister as presi- Most sisters in local-community convents had several jobs besides teaching. 64.4 200~ McDonough ¯ The Coundl as Catalyst 3941 dent, principal, or CEO. All of these had at least a dozen sisters serving in various capacities. We also staffed sev-eral large Catholic high schools and more than three dozen Catholic grade schools in various dioceses in five different states. We were known for being quite good at what we did, and it seemed to me we were. We related professionally to the lay people with whom we worked, but we never really socialized with them. They were called "seculars," and the sisters greatly outnumbered them. By the time I entered, because learning and teach-ing were central to our heritage, it was rare for a sister to be assigned to teach without having at least a B.A. degree. Many sisters already had or were studying for master's or doctoral degrees. Except for those studying, we all came "home" to the motherhouse and worked there or nearby during the summer months. In mid August year after year, we received any new assignments by hearing a list read aloud to all of us assembled in the motherhouse chapel. We were not consulted about the assignments. The very next day we were all on our way to this or that convent in this or that town, each of us with all our belongings. Back then, those belongings always fitted into one large trunk plus, for some, a small suitcase. The convent in which you landed in those days might be subject to the occasional but dreadfully harmful tyranny of a superior who probably should never have had a position of authority. In those days the mother general--the sister in charge of the whole congregation, who herself was elected--appointed all the local superi-ors. It was only in the mid 1970s that sisters in our local houses got to elect their own superior. The election of the mother general took place every four years at a for-mal, solemn gathering called the general chapter. All the sisters voted for delegates to the chapter, and the dele- Review for Religqous gates elected the mother general and the four councilors who assisted her. Besides the elections, these delegates also made decisions about other things that concerned the whole community. While the chapter was in progress, the rest of us usually did not know much about what was going on, although a few always seemed to know most of what was going on everywhere. In local communities, some superiors treated author-ity as a matter of control and more or less trampled on the sensibilities of others in the house, except for favorites of theirs (for whatever reason). In retrospect, it seems that the favorites were being groomed to become future superiors. Many of them did. The nonfavorites were thankful when they were assigned to another house or when the superior went "out of office." Some incom-petent superiors, recycled in a sort of "lateral arabesque," wreaked havoc again on sisters elsewhere. Such superi-ors were the exception, not the norm. But they were really notable exceptions if they were your own supe-rior. The convent in which you landed could also fall under the diplomatically gloved but predominantly iron hand of a local pastor who controlled everything, from the horarium (our daily schedule) to the purse strings. Back then, financial remuneration for sisters was a pittance. In the early 1970s I was among twenty-eight sisters in a city with one of the highest per capita incomes in the country. Two dozen of us had degrees, some even graduate degrees. We taught in a large diocesan high school or in a nearby parish grade school or worked in a diocesan office. One sister was a full-time cook for the convent. Though not many of us knew how to cook for twenty-eight people, we took turns helping to cook on weekends. Every sister in the convent received a salary of $1,800 per year. Of course, the convent and its mainte-nance were paid for by the parish or school, and we had 64.4 200Y McDonough ¯ The Council as Catalyst 396 three cars for our use, paying only the cost of gas for community trips. At that time there was rarely any for-mal provision for sisters' healthcare, but most necessary medical services were donated by local doctors and den-fists. No one ever even thought of retiring, so no retire-ment funds were ever requested or received. It all "worked" fiscally because there were so many of us and we were so young and lived so frugally. I cannot say we went without necessities and must admit we also had occasional extra amenities that were probably unavailable to most of our own families. Remarkably--or perhaps not so remarkably--we usually sent a monthly surplus to the motherhouse. In that way, convents which had difficulties in making ends meet could be given sup-plements from the congregation's general fund. The gen-eral fund also supported our older sisters when they were no longer able to work, but every sister worked for as long as she could. In retrospect it seems that, if we had received higher stipends, we could have recycled much more of that town's wealth into poorer schools and parishes elsewhere through our sisters' donated services. Like most sisters' communities, we also operated schools where many parents simply could not pay any tuition at all. Wherever you lived back then, ever-present poten-tial pitfalls of our life together centered on the possible overemphasis on externals or a possibly excessive legalism in observing regulations as supposedly indicative of what constituted a "good sister." I label them potential pitfalls because, in retrospect, there may have been only three basic ways for us to deal constructively with the exter-nals and the legalism. These realities seemed to domi-nate the entire ethos of Catholicism in America before Vatican II, and they certainly fit all too comfortably into the total ambience of religious life. But, to be construc- Review for Religious tive about it, you could basically only comply with the externals or you could identify with them or you could try to internalize their meaning. Whether or not a sister was really prone to legalism was somehow related to which of the above options predominated for her. Back then, it seemed that just about any sister who wanted to stay in the convent could learn to comply with just about everything that was asked of her, and most did. Even if you did not like doing this or that, you could usually appear pretty good at doing it. Even novices could learn to comply externally most of the time, or at least enough of the time to be admitted to first profes-sion. At another level, back then it seemed to me that most sisters rather readily identified with the communal importance of what was expected of us for the sake of the bigger picture of who we were together. And most somehow sensed that who we were together was immensely greater than the sum of the parts. So the value of accepting certain externals of our collective identity, such as living and praying and working together or wear-ing the same habit or engaging in common practices, was eventually mostly integrated as part of the overall package that both strengthened and assuaged the ins and outs of the day-to-day reality of our lives. But, at still another level, back then it seemed to me that you could personally and spiritually internalize what-ever you did as fitting somehow in the adventure of hav-ing promised your whole life to God no matter what. It also seemed to me that some sisters, mostly older ones, had actually internalized what it might really mean to live our life within the ambience of all the externals but with a balance and healthiness that had no hint of legal-ism. They seemed to understand that none of the exter-nals were the essentials. They also seemed to understand 64.4 2005 McDonough ¯ The Council as Catalyst 398 that all we did was intended to foster somehow the life we publicly professed and interiorly hoped to live. I think we all truly hoped to be good, maybe even holy. And I think we all truly wanted to do good, no matter what we actually happened to do. From the deeper, longer, wiser perspective of these seasoned sisters, the externals seemed to matter less, even though they were faithful in observ-ing them. For sure, very early on, I knew I definitely wanted to belong someday to the last group just described. In the midst of all this, it also seemed to me that most of us were happy and productive most of the time. We mostly tried to be prayerful women as best we knew how and to be responsively obedient in sometimes diffi-cult circumstances. For the most part, we had fun with one another, good clean fun, much more often than onlookers may ever have suspected. For the most part, we were quite competent at what we did in significant areas of education, study, and learning. And the regimenta-tion of much of our life even afforded some sisters the opportunity of serving others much more effectively than they might have done on their own. Somehow, in com-munities of women religious forty years ago, in some real way, we really were family to one another, warts and all. And through it all, perhaps in spite of it all, we were definitely not all alike, and we knew it. We knew that no visible similarities rendered us actually similar. But we knew, too, that in many ways all was not well with the way we lived and that much could or should be effec-tively changed for the better. From the moment conciliar documents were avail-able in English, the sisters in my community enthusias-tically read and studied them. The promulgation of the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy in December 1963 had enormous positive consequences for American Review for Religious Catholic sisters. Until then, other than Mass, prayer in common for sisters in communities with post- Reformation origins often consisted entirely of medita-tion in common, various litanies~ multiple rosaries, and numerous devotional prayers composed by whoever had founded them. In these communities the meditation topic was usually chosen by the superior, announced the evening before, and had an obligatory format usually fol-lowing standard steps adapted from Ignatian spiritual-ity or from a variation of the 17th-century French school of spirituality. Sisters in communities tracing their her-itage to before the Reformation usually prayed a short-ened "little office" consisting of psalms, with antiphons and responses in honor of the Sacred Heart, the Blessed Virgin Mary, or others. These communities also prayed the rosary in common, but usually had fewer litanies and devotional prayers. Meditation was always in chapel together at an early hour, but a common meditation topic or specific method set by the superior would not usu-ally have been obligatory. Before the council, for the most part, only clergy were considered as officially praying the official Divine Office in the name of the church and as part of its offi-cial worship. Indeed, even if nonclergy prayed the same Divine Office from the same books, it was not considered participation in the church's liturgical prayer. Very soon, however, sisters in communities of any heritage began chorally praying the psalms of the breviary and finding this practice to be immensely more meaningful than their previous devotions. The promulgation of the Dogmatic Constitution on Divine Revelation in November 1965 also proved particularly significant for American Catholic sisters, who responded instantly and enthusiastically to new or renewed biblical studies. But no conciliar document altered the reality of reli- 64.4 200Y McDonough ¯ The Council as Ca~alys~ gious life for sisters in apostolic congregations in the United States more than the Decree on the "Accommodata Renovatione" of Religious Life promulgated in October 1965. The Latin phrase accommodata renovatione is delib-erately retained here, not to be pedantic, but because this cryptic description of what was apparently intended for religious life is not easily translated and because one common translation--"adaptation and renewal"--is sim-ply not correct. This erroneous translation, however, was at first used so frequently that dichotomous expla-nations arose describing "adaptation" as pertaining to external elements of religious life and "renewal" as per-taining to internal, spiritual matters of religious life. The title actually called for the entire reality of religious life to be renewed or restored or refreshed or revived in a suitable or fitting manner. This was quite in keeping with John xxIII'S intention that the church more effec-tively bring the riches of salvation in Christ to bear on humanity's immediate and ultimate needs. To this end, article 2 of Perfectae caritatis made clear that effective renewal should occur under the influence of the Holy Spirit and with church guidance. It would involve returning to both the sources of Christian life and the initial inspiration of religious communities as adapted to the altered conditions of current times. PC (Perfectae caritatis, not personal computer!) affirmed fol-lowing Christ in the Gospels as the supreme rule of life for every religious, while urging acceptance and retention of the community's original spirit and aims and sound traditions. It encouraged religious institutes to foster church initiatives in keeping with their own proper char-acter. It mandated that communities should help their members to better understand human realities, world conditions, and the needs of the church. It strongly reaf-firmed the profession of the evangelical counsels and Review for Religious clearly emphasized the importance of spiritual renewal. Article 3 of PC asked every religious community to harmonize its life, prayer, and work with the physical and psychological condition of its members, and it asked us to do likewise in relation to the apostolate, the sur-rounding culture, and overall economic circumstances. It mandated examination of the community's mode of gov-ernment and called for proper revision of constitutions, directories, customs, prayers, and ceremonies in order to bring them into sync with changes promulgated in other conciliar documents. Article 4 of Perfectae caritatis urged the cooperation of all community members in the renewal effort, which it particularly entrusted to competent internal authorities such as general chapters and legitimate superiors. At the same time, it required superiors to consult with com-munity members and to actually listen to them. So it seemed to most of us that someone somewhere who had worked on the formulation of PC must have known that many things might need changing from the way they were back then. All this was prescribed in the context of our individ-ual response to a divine call to express our baptismal consecration more fully by living solely for God with an apostolic orientation in service of the church (articles 5 and 8). Not surprisingly, PC reaffirmed that the three evangelical counsels commonly professed by religious are spiritually and humanly efficacious for fostering maturity, responsible interaction with authority, and con-structive life together. The reordering of the traditional vow sequence from poverty-chastity-obedience to chastity-poverty-obedience was noted, though there was no evident reason for it (articles 12-15). PC also mandated alteration of religious habits inso-far as they were not conducive to hygiene or were no 401 64.4 2005 McDonough ¯ The Council as Catalyst Women religious in the Unl,ted States took these conciliar mandates)~,~- and challengers quite.seriously,; responding to them with astounding interest and concerted action. 402 [ longer simple or were not genuinely attuned to apos-tolic needs (article 17). It initiated longer and more com-prehensive formation (article 18) and urged maintenance of current ministries while simultaneously calling for a renewed missionary spirit (article 20). And it pointedly reminded religious everywhere that the "example of their own lives" was the best invitation for others to join them in this way of witness in the church (article 23). Without a doubt, women religious in the United States took these conciliar mandates and challenges quite seriously, responding to them with astounding interest and concerted action. And, without a doubt, Vatican II was a catalyst for renewal. It initi-ated a genuine, whole-hearted, enthusiastic response on the part of American Catholic sis-ters regarding who they were, how they lived and prayed, what they did, and what they were being called to do. On the other hand, from the vantage point of hindsight, it is now rather clear that many changes in religious life catalyzed by the coun-cil did not proceed under the milder conditions that cat-alytic conversions are supposed to make possible. In most communities of American Catholic sisters, experimentation in living and praying and working seems never to have ended, while in some communities their living and praying and working seems never to have changed. In most communities of American Catholic sis-ters, constitutional revisions seem never to have found Review for Religious the last, best way of expressing what sisters really want to say, while in some communities only grammar and syn-tax seem to have been altered, and only minimally. In most communities of American Catholic sisters, corporate apostolates have almost completely disappeared, while in some communities apostolic endeavors seem to have remained exactly the same as they were forty years ago. In most communities of American Catholic sisters, many members wear completely secular attire, while in some communities the sisters' only attire remains a Sunday or weekday or work habit, one of which is worn at all times. In most communities of American Catholic sisters, many members live alone in rented apartments, are responsible to no internal superior below the gen-eral council (now commonly known as a leadership team), find their own jobs, visit relatives at their own convenience, organize their own work schedules, and are basically responsible for maintaining their own well-being. In stark contrast, in some communities life is very much the same as it was forty years ago: all sisters live in convents, are assigned to ministry with little consulta-tion, have local superiors, follow a standard horarium, eat in common, wash dishes at table, never visit their families overnight, and--among a plethora of other per-sonal human constraints--may still be permitted to shower or bathe only once a week. This article refers to the council as a catalyst. In ret-rospect, it is clear that the catalytic impulse of the coun-cil occurred during a decade of rapid and sweeping cultural upheavals in the world. In retrospect, it is also clear that in the United States the catalytic impulse of Vatican lI coincided with conditions of extreme social turbulence. Ostensibly genuine responses to the man-dates of Vatican II during a time of great and ongoing social unrest seem to have resulted forty years later in a 64.4 2005 McDonough ¯ The Council as Catalyst far more than minimal divergence in the ways various communities of sisters in America live and pray and work. From what appear to be the result of forces in play forty years ago, in merely human terms the 1960s may have been the least auspicious time for the church to have sug-gested that American Catholic sisters should reassess every aspect of their lives. Indeed, it seems that strongly affirmed good inten-tions and long-sustained earnest efforts have actually brought American Catholic sisters to diametrically opposed positions of immense disparity in spirituality, theology, apostolic endeavors, internal structures, and overall functioning. In four decades of trying to achieve an accommodata renovatio, many communities of American Catholic sisters appear to have unconsciously but enthu-siastically adapted themselves into impending oblivion, while some other communities of American Catholic sis-ters appear to have consciously and steadfastly remained basically unrenewed. And, in this ongoing process, the genuine challenge of Vatican Council II for religious life as a gift to the church--and to the waiting world-- remains as yet overwhelmingly unrealized. Or so it seems to me. His Smile Radiant goodness broke out from ear to ear a would-be down of pain turned up a smile ingratiating, inviting a welcome sign to an open heart; a home. I stepped in and stayed awhile. Walter Bunofsky SVD Review for Religious CHRISTIAN RAAB Monks' Stability and Punxsutawney Toe 1993 Harold Ramis film Groundhog Day is the ry of a television weatherman named Phil, played by Bill Murray, who soon finds himself in a time warp. As the film begins, Phil is cocky, sarcastic, and self-important and resents being sent to the small town of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, to cover the Groundhog Day festival. He spends the day ridiculing the provin-cialisms of the people, bragging about his chances of becoming an anchorman, and trying, rather rudely, to charm his attractive ~producer, Rita, played by Andie MacDowell. At day's end Phil's TV crew gets snowed in. Phil awakens the next day to discover that it is February 2 once again, though he is the only one who seems to notice. He relives the whole day, encounter by encounter, no more gracefully and with even more frustration than he had the day before. He finally goes to bed, hoping that he has gotten over the world's worst case of d4j~ vu. He awakens, however, to find that it is February 2 for Christian Raab OSB is a newly professed Benedictine monk at St. Meinrad Archabbey; 100 Hill Drive; St. Meinrad, Indiana 47577. 64.4 200Y Raab ¯ Monks' Stability and Punxsutawney the third time. These repetitions continue for the rest of the movie. Phil quite clearly has become stuck in Groundhog Day. As he keeps reliving this day and reencountering the people in it, Phil's reactions change--from utter frus-tration and angry outbursts to something else. He real-izes that a life without consequences beyond one day can be used for unbounded pleasure seeking. When he tires of this, he turns his attention toward winning the heart of Rita. He spends days figuring out who the perfect man is in Rita's eyes, and then he pretends to be this person. Needless to say, it does not work. Phil responds with despair and, believing it is the only way out of his private hell, tries again and again to end his life. After each attempt, however, he awakens to the same song on the radio and sees that it is still February 2. Finally Phil recognizes that his selfishness is getting him nowhere. He begins to live for others. He gets to know people and responds to their needs. He feeds a homeless man. He is kind to an annoying character. He helps counsel a young couple. He knows what time every day several old ladies get a flat tire and hurries there to fix it for them. He knows what time each day a young boy falls from a tree, and he rushes there to catch him. Discovering that he has a gift for music, he develops and shares it. He becomes part of the community he once ridiculed, and at last, by forgetting himself, he escapes his fate and reaches February 3. There is something about Phil's Groundhog Day that living as a novice in a Benedictine monastery resonates with. Benedictine iife, especially in the novitiate, is very structured and repetitive. Every day begins the same. At 5:15 a.m., the bells announce Morning Prayer. After Morning Prayer is breakfast, then private spiritual read-ing. At 7:30 a.m. we return to church for Mass. When Review for Religious this is over, we may grab a quick cup of coffee before the workday begins at 8:30 a.m. Coffee break is at 10 a.m. At noon comes Midday Prayer and then lunch, fol-lowed by work or class again at 1 p.m. At 4:30 p.m. the workday ends. The monks go back to church at 5 p.m. for Vespers. After this we have another period of private spiritual reading, and then at 6 p.m. we meet for the evening meal. After dinner, monks are usually free to recreate, study, or go to bed, as the case may be. The monk ends his day, goes to sleep, awakens again the next day to the ring-ing of the bells, and the cycle begins again. It is - - a structured, repetitive, and somewhat predictable life. In some ways, every day feels the same. Of course, this structured life is not just a repetition of practices. More important, it is a repetition of encoun-ters with people. It is easy to know that a particular brother can be expected to sit at a particular place in the refectory during breakfast. A certain father will be arriv-ing at the coffeemaker at 7 a.m. Some monks will sit on this side of the calefactory during coffee, break, and oth-ers will sit on the other side. We expect to see certain monks in the computer lab before we open the door. We know who will almost surely be playing cards after supper. We become familiar with the sounds of monks' breathing and walking. We begin to know who will like a book and who will hate it, who will take a joke and who won't, who likes hugs and who doesn't, who prefers the mornings and who prefers the evenings. In the way that monastic life provides a series of repeat encounters This structured life is not just a repetition of practices; it is a repetition of encounters with people. 407 64.4 2005 Raab ¯ Monks' Stability and Punxsutawney 408 and practices, it is not much different from Groundhog Day. The monk, unlike Phil, voluntarily chooses this life of repetitive practices and encounters in connection with the vow of stability. The vow is a monk's promise to stay in the same place with the same people and engage in the same monastic practices for the rest of his life. Like all the vows, stability is a means toward the end of con-version. Our Brother John Mark explains that stability aids conversion by providing a sure and solid context in which the human will may conform to the will of the loving God. He compares the human will to a steel rod that, in conversion, is bent into conformity with the divine will. One cannot bend a rod without having something strong and solid to hold it in place. This is what stabil-ity does. It provides the strong and solid foundation that makes conversion--the bending of the rod--possible. Stability means the monk stays put. He commits to repeat his day over and over again in the same place with the same people doing the same things. And so the monk, in a very real way, is choosing to do what Phil did invol-untarily, to stay in one place, to relive and reencounter while being transformed. Repetition can help us with this transformation, not merely by keeping us surefooted, but by supplying and resupplying opportunities for loving choices. For exam-ple, because I am in this repetitive life, each day I have the opportunity to be more attentive in liturgy, and to be more open in prayer, than I was earlier. As I live and work each day alongside some people who annoy me, I have the opportunity to "love my enemies," to set aside grievances, to practice patience, to exercise charity. Each day I have the opportunity to anticipate needs in the elderly monks, to clean things with more care than I did Review for Religious the day before, to listen with more receptivity to the lonely and the needy. Because so many of our experiences and encounters repeat themselves, I am, each day and always, given the opportunity to be humble where I was proud, to be chaste where I was lustful, to be calm where I was angry, to be forgiving where I was unforgiving, to be assertive where I was a pushover. In this way, stability, by its rep-etition, can be accepted as a great gift on the path to holiness. The monk who perseveres can, like Phil, be trans-formed. Like Phil, we may come to this life with prob-lems of self-centeredness, sarcasm, conceit, anger, despair, or lust. But, if we are open to the grace that comes with living, out stability in a monastic community, we, like Phil, may be transformed into persons of char-ity. In the last scene of Groundhog Day, Phil has finally "gotten it right" and the morrow has finally come. On the morning of February 3, the now-transformed Phil says to Rita with joyful single-mindedness, "Is there any-thing I can do for you today?" It is this monk's hope that he may be able to start his own day, each day, with the same happy singularity of purpose, saying to my broth-ers and to God, "Is there anything I can do for you today?" ZPlease:note that the phone and fax number for the editorial offices of Review for Religious :have changed. The new numbers are: PHONE 31'4-633-4610 :and FAX 314-633-4611. 409 64.4 2005 the ANDREW RYDER Led by the Spirit: St. Augustine spirit 4101 St. Augustine's reflections on Christianity were very original and also much influenced by the facts of his own life. He forged his ideas 6n the hard anvil of his own conversion and his need, as a bishop, to defend the teaching of the Catholic Church. This combination of speculation and experience gives his writings a unique ongoing relevance. Their blending of the theoretical and the practical is nowhere more evident than in his teaching on the Holy Spirit. His Spirit doc-trine develops through three movements: his agonizing effort leading to his conversion, his need as a pastor to explain the church's doc-trines, and his awareness that the action of grace is the love of the Holy Spirit dwelling in our hearts. Fortunately, the key to understanding these three movements, and indeed all of Augustine's theology, is his most popular com- Andrew Ryder scJ presents the second of his four arti-cles on the Holy Spirit. His address is St. Joseph's Retreat Centre; Malpas; Cheshire SY14 7DD; United Kingdom. Review for Religious position, the Confessions. This work records his long-drawn- out struggle to find God. The Confessions The opening words of the Confessions set the tone. Augustine's masterpiece is not a sorrowful account of past misdeeds. It is not a lurid description of a misspent youth, but rather a joyful poem praising the God who has delivered him from sin and error: "Can any praise be worthy of the Lord's majesty? How magnificent his strength! How inscrutable his wisdom! Man is one of your creatures, Lord, and his instinct is to praise you. He bears about him the mark of death, the sign of his own sin, to remind him that you thwart the proud. But still, since he is a part of your creation, he wishes to praise you" (Conf 1.1).' The Confessions are not an autobiography in the mod-ern sense, but rather a profession of faith in the majest

Issue 54.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1995. ; Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER 1995 ¯ VOLUME 54 '. NUMBER 5 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314o977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ P.O. Box 29260 ° Washington, DC 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1995 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read Joann Wolski Conn PhD Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 1995 ¯ VOLUME 54 ¯ NUMBER 5 contents 646 symposium The Roots of Faith-and-Justice: Critical Assessment Martin R. Tripole SJ presents a case for a more careful assessment of the relationship between faith and justice in the Christian apostolic life. Responses are made by Gerald F. Finnegan SJ, Vincent J. Genovesi SJ, and Charles L. Currie SJ. 675 681 ecumenism Ecumenism a Scripture Mandate for Religious Jude D. Weisenbeck SDS explains how ecumenism is at the very heart of what it means to be a religious. Too Deep for Dogma Bernard Seif SMC describes the enriching prayer relationship that has been created between a Salesian monastery and a Hindu ashram. 685 Catholicism in the Social Order of a New Era Curt Cadoret~e MM addresses changes in the church that will occur in the next millennium as its center of gravity moves from the developed to the developing world. 696 707 finding God Fihding God in Daily Life: Ignatian Spirituality's Heart Richard J. Hauser SJ describes a practical way of staying attuned to the Spirit by focusing upon the direction of one's heart. A Hermitage Experience Perry McDonald OFMCap takes away the fear or glamor of a hermitage experience as he recounts the everyday grace of solitude. 642 Review for Religious 716 The Abbey of S~nanque: A Journey of the Heart Dennis J. Billy CSSR ponders the contemplative effect of a pilgrimage to the Cistercian Abbey of S~nanque. 723 754 prayer Jesus:Beauty::Jesus:Compassion George A. Maloney SJ enters us into an experience of Jesus as Beauty and Compassionate Love which leads us to a self-emptying service towards others. 729 Mysticism as Flight M. Pascaline Coff OSB explains how t/~e breakthrough to the mystical, to the Transcendent, is the true goal of our lives. living spiritually J 735 The Problem with Problems Hilary Ottensmeyer OSB points out ways in which a problem-solving approach to hfe has e,normous consequences for how we think and feel about ourselves, our neighbor, and our God. 744 A Case for Candlelight [ Donald Macdonald SMM illumines thrbugh the experience of Julian of Norwich how personal relationships with God and others seem to flourish best in a gentldr rather than a harsher light. Vocation as Liberation and Revel Ltion Terrance Wayne Klein describes the necessity of liberation for ministerial candidates in their pursuit of a vocation call 644 772 from God. departments Prisms Canonical Counsel: Cloister for N~uns: From the 1917 Code to the 1994 Synod 779 Book Reviews September-October 199Y 643 prisms Te editor's introduction to each issue is usually focused on a way of viewing an issue, a practice, or an event in relation to our Christian living, often refracted through religious life heritages. In this issue I designate the following content rather in the "announcement" than in the "viewpoint" category. The National Board of the Religious Formation Conference in'the United States has designated Review for Religious to be the recipient of the Religious Formation Conference's Sister Mary Emil Penet IHM Award for 1995. The award is being given in recognition of its contribution to formation ministry in this country and throughout the world during its fifty-four-year-old history. The presentation will be made at the Ninth National Religious Formation Conference in St. Louis on October 13, 1995. Sister Mary Emil Penet, a member of the Congregation of the Immaculate Heart of Mary in Monroe, Michigan, was the founder of the Sister Formation Conference (pre-cursor of the Religious Formation Conference) and a woman who recognized the needs of her time in prepar-ing women religious for their professional ministries. The Religious Formation Conference evolved over the years from the founding vision of Sister Mary Emil Penet, and as a national organization continues to respond to the needs of religious communities in the area of initial and ongoing formation. Sister Mary Emil Penet received the first award in 1989. Presented biennially, the award was given to the Institute of Religious Formation at Saint Louis University and the Institute of Formative Spirituality at Duquesne University in 1991. In 1993 the Adorers of the Blood of Christ of Ruma, Illinois, received the Mary Emil Penet IHM Award in honor of their Sisters who were martyred in Liberia, all five of whom were in some way involved in the ministry of formation. 644 Review for Religious As the fourth editor of this journal, I express my apprecia-tion for this recognition--a tribute given to our many writers who have collaborated in sharing from their various religious life heritages. Building upon the untapped resource of collaboration among religious was central to the vision of the founding editors, Augustine Ellard $3, Adam Ellis SJ, and Gerald Kelly SJ, in 1942. That vision has been realized through the articles of numerous women and men--some well-known writers and many others not so well known, but all contributing from the richness of their insight and experience. Today this kind of collaboration is central to formation and ministry--between religious congregations and between religious and laity. ' In another example of collaboration, Review for Religious is working with the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth in Wernersville, Pennsylvania, in its special symposium: "Religious Life 30 Years Later. Is This What Vatican II Intended?" Scheduled to celebrate the 30th anniversary of Vatican II's decree on "The Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life" (Pe~fectae caritatis), this program will investigate the present state of religious life with an eye to appro-priate future developments. Major presentations will be given by Miriam Ukeritis CSJ, Albert Dilanni SM, George Aschenbrenner SJ, and Judith Merkle SNDdeN. The speakers mean to stimulate conversation among all the participants on current trends and devel-opments, community, mission, and other aspects of contemporary religious life. The symposium is dedicated to the memory of Mary Margaret Johanning SSND, former superior general and Review board member who died in October 1994. A notice on the practi-cal details for those wishing to participate in this symposium to be held October 26-29 can be found on page 797of this issue. Finally, Review for Religious intends to publish another book in the series The Best of the Review, with the title The Church and Consecrated Life. The book will include the pope's still-to-be-published apostolic exhortation as a result of the synod on con-secrated life, a collection of Elizabeth McDonough's Canonical Counsel articles reviewing church documents on religious life, and other significant articles relating to synod considerations. This prepublication announcement is meant only to alert you, our readers. Look for the book's publication in early 1996. David L. Fleming SJ September-October 199Y 645 MARTIN R. TRIPOLE The Roots of Faith-and-Justice: Critical Assessment symposium The 34th General Congregation of the Society of Jesus (GC34) met in Rome from 5 January to 22 March 1995. Twenty-four documents were approved and, as of this writing, were awaiting final revisions and official pro-mulgation. Its decree 2, 'titled "Our Mission and Justice," renews Jesuit "commitment to the promotion of justice as an integral part of our mission, as this has been exten-sively developed in GC32 and GC33.''~ Thus GC34 reaf-firms the tradition of the promotion of justice set in place at the 32nd General Congregation in 1975. This paper examines the roots of the justice move~ ment in GC32's decree 4, "Our Mission Today: The Service of Faith and the Promotion of Justice.''2 Commonly known as Decree Four, the document was dis-cussed amid considerable opposition during GC32 and has been the subject of much joy, confusion, and consternation since, reflecting the different ways the document has been received. A decree of major importance, it became the guiding light that gave new direction and meaning to much of Jesuit spirituality and ministry thereafter. It also had a significant effect on the many other religious orders of men and women that took guidance from its words in Martin R. Tripole SJ, associate professor of theology, and the three Jesuit respondents to his paper first presented these reflec-tions on 21 January 1995 at a Jesuit community meeting at St. Joseph's University. Their address is St. Joseph's University; 5600 City Avenue; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. 646 Review for Religious reorienting their own spirituality and apostolic direction. It will therefore be useful to examine carefully what the doc-ument decreed about the promotion of justice, why it made this change of direction, whether it was justified in doing so, and whether there might not be a better course to follow to attain its noble goals. This presentation is divided into three parts: (1) the meaning and use of justice in decree 4, with analysis of the spe-cial importance it gives t6 the promotion of justice in the apostolic life; (2) the meaning of"the poor"; and (3) a suggestion for a bet-ter formulary to guide religious apostolic life into the coming millennium. The Meaning and Use of Justice in the Decree A careful examination makes it clear that the primary mean-ing of justice in decree 4 is social justice, a justice that is achieved through the revamping of institutional or social structures so that they May more adequately reflect and promote a just ordering of society. There are those who argue that justice in the decree is more properly understood as the human reflection of divine justice, as God's justice at work in the world. This, they assert, makes Jesuit efforts to promote justice a spiritual activity appropriate to their priestly life. While it is true that the decree does argtie, and rightly so, that our efforts to secure tlie rights of others are a reflection of the "power of God's mercy, that mercy whereby he most fully shows forth his justice," this notion is present in only one small part of.the document and in no way substantiates the assertion that justice in the decree takes its central meaning from this the-ological idea) The argument from divine justice has such an iso-lated position in the document that one guesses it is an afterthought to provide a spiritual, foundation for activity in the social order.4 Even understood thus, the argument has its prob-lems, which we shall point out later. In emphasizing social justice the decree gives importance to the establishment of right relationships among people--to render to each what is his or her due--but stresses even more the need to change the social, political, and economic structures of society so that all, especially the poor and oppressed, obtain what is due them through these structures. The decree states: "There are mil-lions of men and women in our world., who are suffering from September-October 199Y 647 Tripole ¯ The Roots of Faitb-and- ffustice poverty and hunger, from the unjust, distribution of wealth and resources and from the consequences of racial, social, and polit-ical discrimination . In a world where the power of economic, social, and political structures is now appreciated and the mech-anisms and laws governing them are now understood, service according to the gospel cannot dispense with a carefully planned effort to exert influence on those structures" (§20 and §31). So far, so good. But this leads to one of the major conclu-sions of this presentation, and perhaps the major conclusion: While it is acceptable that the promotion of justice be a work of the Society of Jesus and, indeed, of all religious life, d problem arises when the decree makes the promotion of justice the absolute stan-dard against which all apostolates must be justified, saying in effect that you cannot have an apostolate in Jesuit life which is not, in some sense, a work of justice. The point is stated emphatically at least twice in the decree: The mission of the Society of Jesus today is the service of faith, of "which the promotion of justice is an absolute requirement. (§2) The promotion of justice is not one apostolic area among others, the "social apostolate"; rather, it should be the concern of our whole life and a dimension of all our apostolic endeavors. (§47) There are at least two reasons why it is unwise to give the promotion of justice this comprehensive role: First, there is an inherent danger in seeing a work of the temporal order as neces-sary to justify a (more ultimate) spiritual work, the danger being that this penultimate requirement may become the goal itself and thus its own legitimation. In this case the promotion of justice would become the goal of apostolic endeavors, rather than being in the service of the faith. Fear of that danger was present even among some of the del-egates at GC32. According to Jean-Yves Calvez, a delegate to the congregation and a longtime close associate of Father General Arrupe, some of the members "were truly fearful that, if the two themes [the promotion of justice and the entire apostolic life] were to be united, the promotion of justice would come to occupy the whole field and appear to represent the totality of today's Jesuit apostolate.''s That Pope Patil VI sensed this danger is clear from his admonitions to the Jesuits through his secretary of state, Jean Cardinal Villot,at the end of GC32, when Paul reminded 648 Review for Religious the delegates of what he had said in his closing remarks at the 1974 Synod of Bishops: "Human development and social progress in the temporal order should not be extolled in such exaggerated terms as to obscure the essential significance which the church attributes to evangelization and the proclamation of the full gospel.6 By most accounts, this danger became a reality--at least twice. Arrupe noted in 1972 that an undue emphasis had been placed upon justice as "socioeconomic development" in the aftermath " of Vatican II, probably because of the powerful impetus given to the social-jus-tice movement b}" Gaudium et spes.7 But it is also generally accepted today that after GC32 the concept of justice again became largely identified by Jesuits with the work of the social apostolate. Calvez tells us that a group of Jesuits who met in Latin America in 1982 admitted that they had "yielded to excessively secularized views" of justice in their apostolate (Calvez, p. 65). He notes that Arrupe became con-cerned in 1980 that justice was being seen as something "sufficient in itself" and not related to charity (p. 84) and tried to cor-rect the problem in his famous talk of 6 February 1981, "Rooted and Grounded in Love." Calvez and others argue that Arrupe reaffirmed the impor- " tance of love or charity in that talk--that social justice should not be separated from love or charity--but that he did not in any way intend to correct decree 4's heavy emphasis upon justice. But a better reading of the evidence indicates that Arrupe was reducing the importance of justice in that talk. Arrupe had been affirming as early as 1966, the year after he became superior general, that all Jesuit ministries and every form of Jesuit apostolate had to be a response "to the urgent priorities which justice and social equity call for. Even an apostolate like education., must be the object of reflection in the light of the demands of the social problem.''8 Right through to GC32 he often sti'essed the role of justice in the apostolate, especially in the famous 1973 speech in Valencia to Jesuit alumni, many of whom became so upset at his assertion that they had not been adequately Justice is necessary, but it is not enough. The world needs a stronger cure, a more effective witness and more effective deeds: those of love. Septentber-October 1995 649 Tripole ¯ The Roots of Faitb-and-ffustice educated for justice that the .president of the alumni association immediately resigned'(Calvez, p. 27). But, in "Rooted and Grounded in Love" only eight years later, Arrupe speaks quite differently. He talks about "all the imperfec-tions" of decree 4, that it was an "option in the right direction" but not sufficient: "Justice is necessary, but it is not enough. The world needs a stronger cure, a more effective witness and more effective deeds: those of love .C.harity adds its transcendent, inner dimension to justice .E.very explanation in terms of jus-tice seems inadequate.''9 About two months before this talk, Pope John Paul II had published his second encyclical, Dives in misericordia (Rich in Mercy). Arrupe cites it explicitly: "The experience of the past and of our own time demonstrates that justice alone is not enough, that it can even lead to the n.egation and destruction of itself, if that deeper power, which is love, is not allowed to shape human life in its various dimensions.''~° It would seem that Arrupe had come to a new awareness that undue emphasis had been placed on the promotion of justice by the Jesuits, an emphasis that should more properly have been placed on love and charity. The second difficulty with making the promotion of justice the criterion for all Jesuit apostolates is that it risks undermining the acceptability of traditional apostolates which cannot easily be explained as extensions of the promotion of justice. The ques-tioning of the legitimacy of many traditional apostolates is exactly what~occurred after GC32 and has continued to this day, for it is difficult to find rational arguments to justify apostolates such as education, the fine arts, some forms of research and publishing, administering the sacraments, and giving spiritual counsel on matters of faith and on people's personal relationship with God when these all must be demonstrably the promotion of justice to survive. This leads to one's asking why all apostolates must be expres-sions of justice. It seems.they must only if it has been determined a priori that justice is the norm for all apostolates. But why should that be the case? What the following discussion may show is that there is no clear reason for justice to be given ~uch a far-reaching role. Although dec'ree 4 provides at leasteight arguments for the comprehensive role of justice jn all apostolic activity, we shall examine only two of the more important ones here. 650 Review for Religious Is Justice an Absolute Requirement of Faith? The major argument is based on the view that the "mission of the Society of Jesus today is the service of faith, of which the pro-motion of justice is an absolute requirement" (decree 4, §2).lj But is the promotion of justice an absolute requirement of the service of faith? No footnote is given in decree 4 for the origins of this idea, but they are found in the document:Tustice in the World from the Synod of Bishops of 1971, which Arrupe made use of in the congregation. The key text from that statement reads: "Action on behalf of justice and participation in the transformation of the world fully appear to us as a constitutive dimension of the preaching of the gospel." J2 The words constitutive dimension are crucial, for if used in their technical sense they would mean that "action on behalf of justice" is essential to the preaching of the gospel--so that you could not preach the gospel without action on behalf of justice. The statement is repeatedly cited by all who would make the promotion of justice a new essen-tial dimension of Christian liv-ing, and everyone takes these words constitutive dimension in their literal technical meaning. It would take too long to discuss this matter fully here, but Charles Murphy, the former rector of the North American College in Rome, wrote in 1983 a highly significant article on this topic, in which he shows that, whatever it may have meant by those two words, the synod did not mean that they should be taken in their technical sense.13 Among the synod's possible meanings, the most likely is that justice is an integral part of the proclamation of the gospel. According to Avery Dulles, "integral part" means "pertains to the completeness of that of which it is a part, but., not essential to the existence of the latter." ~4 The distinction is crucial, for if the promotion of justice is "integral" but not essential to the service of faith, then the promotion of justice is not an "absolute require-ment" of the service of faith, as decree 4 asserts)s If the promotion of justice is "integral" but not essential to the service of faith, then the promotion of justice is not an "absolute requirement" of the service of faith. September-October 199Y 651 Tripole ¯ The Roots of Faitb-and-ffustice No pope since 1971 has understood "constitutive dimension" from Jztstice in the V~orld to have its technical meaning. Paul VI argued that the synod had not in fact explained the exact nature of the relationship between action for justice and the procl.ama-tion of the gospel, and both he and John Paul II have repeatedly used other terms; such as "profound links," to explain the rela-tionship. John Paul II, at his opening address at the Puebla Conference of Latin American Bishops in 1979, stated that work on behalf of justice is "an indispensable part" of the church's "evangelization mission." This is clearly not to assert that it is a constitutive or essential element of evangelization, but rather, in Dulles's sense, an integral part of it. The International Theological Commission in 1977 explicitly treated the synod statement.~6 It argues that the document should not be understood in a "theoretical, scientific," or "theological" way (I, p. 307), that it should be understood as affirming "a pro-found unity that links" the proclamation of the gospel and justice (II, p. 307), and that the more accurate meaning "seems" to be "an integral part, not an essential part" (IV, p. 311). Is Justice Integral to Priesthood? A second reason for the special importance given to the pro-motion of iustice in decree 4 is based on the essential role sup-posedly given to it in the ministry of the Jesuits as a priestly order. Because this constitutes one of the more serious theological argu-ments in the documents and because it has a broader signifi~cance for all religious priestly congregations, it needs to be given seri-ous attention. The argument in question reads as follows: The mission of the Society today is the priestly service of the faith, an apostolate whose aim is to help people become more open toward God and more willing to live according to the demands of the gospel. The gospel demands a life freed from egoism and self-seeking, from all attempts to seek one's own advantage, and from every form of exploita-tion of one's neighbor. It demands a life in which the justice of the gospel shines out in a willingness not only to recog-nize and respect the rights of all, especially the poor and the powerless, but also to work actively to secure those rights. It demands an openness and generosity toward any-one in need, even a stranger or an enemy. It demands, 652 Review for Religious towards those who have injured us, pardon; toward those with whom we are at odds, a spirit of reconciliation. We do not acquire this attitude of mind by our own efforts alone. It is the fruit of the Spirit who transforms our hearts and fills them with the power of God's mercy, that mercy whereby he most fully shows forth his justice by drawing us, unjust though we are, to his friendship. It is by this that we know that the promotion of justice is an integral part of the priestly service of the faith. (decree 4, § 18) We have here an argument that conflates several theological re~ilities that, while interrelated, must be understood distinctly: divine justice and human expressions of it and also the priesthood of all the faithful and the ministerial priesthood. The document gives as parallels "the justice of the gospel" that expresses itself in the mercy by which God draws us into his friendship and into the human practice of justice by which we recognize, respect, and promote the rights of others. The decree implies a certain equa-tion between the horizontal and the vertical: Our work toward the establishing of respect for the rights of others is made possi-ble in the power of God's mercy, the same mercy which is at work when God's justice brings us into his friendship. Thus it is God's justice which is at work both in our efforts to promote justice in the world and in divine-human reconciliation. The argument is not incorrect: It is in reality God's justifying action that is at work in the world in human efforts to promote justice. But God's justice is far greater than human expressions of it. Human actions of justice may therefore be considered one form of God's justice, but only one, and perhaps not even the major form of it. Justice in the Scriptures is always understood as at work inside a covenant relationship, whether in the Old or New Testament. Justice is God's saving,,redemptive activity at work in the world, extricating humans from the power of sin and restoring them to a relationship of friendship with God. Justice is equated with that saving action, and it is present wherever that action is at work. Justice, then, is ultimately found wherever salvific union with God is established. In the Old Testament, Israel's justice is "that she repents and takes refuge in her God, that she trusts in him, that she is faith-ful." t7 In the New Testament, justice takes place in the relation-ship centered on Christ's redemptive activity in his suffering, death, and resurrection. The human being's justice, then, "consists September-October 199~ 653 Tripole * The Roots of Faitb-and-ffustice of, and depends upon, his trusting acceptance of God's saving act in Christ, whereby man accepts the restored covenant relationship with God." ~8 In the New Testament, God in Christ is the source of justice or righteousness, and the human being enters into that righ-teousness by faith in Christ. We are justified in that we are brought back into friendship with God and made his adopted children. God's Spirit leads us to a share in the new justified life as God's children, which is in fact a sharing in God's own life-- even now in this world and more fully in the next. It is in the experience of this new life in God that the com-munity of love, human dignity, and respect for one another is formed. Indeed, in the Christian dispensation the horizontal expressions of that saving justice are realized as a consequence of the justice already enacted between God and human beings, so that the horizontal experience is unintelligible without the lat-ter. To separate human expressions of justice from the salvific encounter with God in the knowledge and recognition of his sav-ing love in Christ is not only to risk distorting the Christian dis-pensation but also to risk reducing the Christian expression of justice to something purely secular. As far as Christians are concerned, the promotion of justice should not be separated from its relationship to divine justice, which is its sole ground of meaning. This means that the pro-motion of justice not only should never be separated from its relationship to the gospel, but also should never diminish pri-mary attention on the good news of God's justifying Word. Decree 4 rightly argues that "our mission today is to preach Jesus Christ and to make him kntwn in such a way that all men and women are able to recognize him" (§1 i). The danger in decree 4 is that, with its excessive emphasis upon the promotion of justice in the social order, the gospel risks being slighted. What is rightly understood as the incarnation of the gospel in the world risks being sepa-rated from its foundation in divine justice and becoming simply an action of social justice of the secular order. That what Arrupe recognized as a danger actually happened in the aftermath of the decree in the late 1970s indicates that the danger remains a real one. While Vatican II in Gaudium et spes did encourage the church to take a strong role in promoting the dignity of the human person, it nevertheless saw human actions for justice as properly pr0paedeutic to the proclamation of the saving 654 Review for Religious mysteries of Jesus Christ and never intended that human efforts for justice be separated from the justifying life of the church. Unless human efforts at justice are designed to lead to an expe-rience of justifying union with Christ in his church, such efforts risk becoming inconsonant with the Christian mission. Decree 4 gives the impression that divine justice translates directly and adequately into efforts at justice in the world. While efforts at human justice are extremely important to God's justi-fy! ng action in the world, that impor-tance should not overshadow the fact that God's saving justice is revealed in many parts of our lives in which the word justice is not used. God's saving justice is revealed in the whole life of the church, especially in the procla-mation of God's Word and the church's sacramental life. While human justice is an integral part of the service of the faith, it is not the rich-est way in which God's saving action is manifested. Therefore, if the promo-tion of justice should ever be stressed to such a point that it begins to over-shadow the primacy of the proclama-tion of the gospel and the sacramental life of the church, one risks once again separating the promgtion of justice from its solid Christian base. Besides the, potential confusion that we have been discussing in regard God's divine justice, which is his saving covenanted relationship with his people, makes a human act of justice priestly, not in the ministerial sense, but rather in the sense of the priesthood of all the faithful. to decree 4's conflation (in § 18) of ~two theologically distinct mean-ings of justice, the passage also tends to confuse the priesthood of the faithful common to a!l Christians with the ministerial priest-hood conferred by the sacrament of holy orders. God's divine jus-tice, which is his saving covenanted relationship with his people, makes a humah act of justice priestly, not in the ministerial sense, but rather in the sense of the priesthood of all the faithful, each of whom is called to show through justice towards others God's saving activity" towards all. The promqtion of justice is, of course, appropriate to the life of the ordained priest inasmuch as he is called to proclaim the SepteTnber-October 1995 655 Tripole ¯ The Roots of Faitb-and-ffu~tice gospel and be instrumental in the establishment of God's kingdom, which in some sense involves the establishment of just relation-ships among people. If at times the faithful as a whole are not exercising their commitment to justice by direct action in its ser-vice, it may fall upon the ordained ministers to try to compensate for that lacuna by direct action. Nevertheless, it is to the enhance-ment of the lay faithful's efforts for justice that the ordained priest's mission efforts should be directed, rather than to his own direct involvement. To the extent that the priest gives himself to the latter, he risks slighting the mission role of all the faithful, a mis-sion that is increasingly in need of support. Who Are the Poor? Inextricably linked to the promotion of justice is what is often called the "preferential option for the poor." Though that expres-sion is not used until the 33rd General Congregation in 1983, it is there in germ in decree 4, which makes it clear that "the justice of the gospel" calls us "to recognize and respect the rights of all, especially the poor and the powerless, but also to work actively to secure those rights" (§18). The question arises: Who are the poor? No doubt the term "the poor" is used by decree 4 to refer to the materially or economically poor and the politically oppressed. But we should look to the scriptural use of the expression, to see if this commonly accepted understanding of who the poor are is consonant with the Bible. In the earliest stages of Israel's history, the poor are indeed the economically poor and the politically oppressed or marginalized. But in the postexilic period (after the 5th century B.C.) "the poor" is often the term used for people who are simply meek and humble, but then also for the Israelite community as a whole, standing before God in need. In the New Testament the two favorite texts making refer-ence to the poor are found in the beatitudes in Matthew 5:3-12 and Luke 6:20-27 and in the Last Judgment scene in Matthew 25:31-46. In examining these three passages and the exegetical interpretations of them, we shall see that there is a broad spectrum of scholarly viewpoints on who the poor are. When Jesus says "Blessed are the poor" (Lk 6:20) and "Blessed are the poor in spirit" (Mt 5:3), there is one thing we can be cer-tain of, according to the exegetes: Jesus is not speaking about poor people as such. R.J. Karris says: "The Lucan Jesus is not 656 Review for Religious declaring a social class blessed."19 According to the exegetes, when Jesus calls the poor blessed, he is referring, not to poor people everywhere in the world, but to those among his listeners who are open to his message, open to his Father and the coming of his kingdom, and open to accepting Jesus and his teaching as his disciples. There is no blessed state, as far as Jesus is concerned, apart from being one of his disciples. In Luke, it is true, the disciples (or potential disciples) are addressed primarily in their material and political poverty. But we must not forget that in Matthew the beatitudes are addressed to the "poor in spirit." The primary emphasis here is not on the material or political state of the blessed, but on the fact that they are poor in spirit, that is, living lives of dependence upon God, trusting their lives to him completely, and finding no meaning, comfort, satisfaction, or fulfillment in the things of the world. What Matthew brings out (though it is true for Luke as well) is that the poor are blessed, not because of their material or political poverty, but because of the total orientation of their lives to God in Jesus. This leaves ¯ open the possibility that, for Jesus, being poor or poor in spirit means being a disciple of his (at least poten-tially) and not necessarily being mate-rially or politically deprived. It may be that Matthew, having in mind a later stage in the life of the Christian community, may be extending the beatitude "to all, of whatever social rank, who rec-ognized their complete dependence on God.''2° One exegete asserts that "Matthew has spiritualized and generalized the beat-itudes, making them applicable to the spiritual needs and moral endeavor of every member of his church.''2~ After all, Matthew alone among the Gospel writers tells us that Joseph of Arimathea was "a rich man" and that Jesus' body is laid "in his new tomb" (Mr 27:57 and 60). Would Matthew have considered Joseph not to be poor in spirit? It seems we must be open to a conception of the poor that includes more than the economically poor and polit-ically marginalized. What Matthew brings out is that the poor are blessed, not because of their material or political poverty, but because of the total orientation of their lives to God in Jesus. Septentber-October 1995 657 Tripole ¯ The Roots of Faith-and-ffustice Last Judgment Scene Exegesis of the Last Judgment scene (Nit 25:31-46) is equally broad. The heart of the problem is contained in Jesus' statement to "all the nations" assembled for judgment before the Son of Man when he comes in glory: "Whatever you did for one of these least brothers and sisters of mine you did for me," and "What you did not do for one of these least ones you did not do ~:or me." Exegesis centers on who these least ones are and who the people in the nations are who are judged by how they relate to the least ones. There are two quite different interpretations in contention here. The more popular interpretation is that the least ones or least brothers and sisters are the materially and politically poor of the world and that "the nations" includes anyone in the world who comes to their assistance. The point is that, if you respond to the needy, you will be saved; if you do not, you will be condemned. The number of exegetes who in recent times subscribe to this interpretation is significant, due to the emphasis given to it by liberation theologians seeking a scriptural basis for a preferential option for the materially poor and socially oppressed. But there are problems: What about the necessity of faith for salvation and Jesus' constant call for faith among his disciples? Where does that fit in? The pec~ple of the nations are not represented as hav-ing any faith. Some exegetes argue that their faith is presumed, but this is a big presumption. Also, none of the people have any awareness of Jesus' teach-ing identifying himself with these least ones. Would not the dis-ciples know this teaching? It seems better to argue that the people are nonbelievers, in which case the passage is s~howing the sav-ing value and the necessity of works of love for nonbelievers. Niore and .more Matthean scholars argue that it is the Gentiles (and possibly the nonbelieving Jews) who make up the nations and that the least ones are Jesus' disciples sent on mission to preach the gospel of the kingdom.2~ The point, then, is that the Gentiles are saved or not saved according to how they respond to Jesus' disciples in their missionary needs. This appears to be the better meaning. It is based on Jesus' use of "brothers and sisters" to refer to members of the community, especially disciples in need (Mr 10:42 and 12:49), and on the fact that Matthew gives prominence to Jesus' sending his disciples on mission (Nit 10), telling them to carry on this mission to "all nations" to the end of time (Mt 10:40). This approach explains 658 Review for Relig%us why the respondents did not know that Jesus was present in his disciples, since they, unlike the disciples, would not have been familiar with that teaching. It also satisfies more easily the prob-lem caused by the lack of any mention of the importance of faith, a major element in Jesus' teaching (Mt 10:32-33): While explic-itly nonbelieving, the nations are saved because they are in fact responding positively to Jesus present in his disciples. With this exegesis, Jesus in the Last Judgment scene would not be showing a preferential love for or solidarity with the socioe-conomically poor. The scene would have an entirely different meaning; it would show his identification with the members of his community on mission and would give to that mission theo-logical and soteriological significance of enormous proportions. The disciples would be on a mission of evangelization, entrusted to all Christians by reason of their faith and baptism. With this exegesis, the Last Judgment scene and the beati-tudes in both Matthew and Luke could have a certain common message: Jesus' preferential love, if there is to be any, is extended to all sinners who accept him and respond to his teaching. In view of the fact that Jesus came to call all "sinners" (Mr 9:13), Jesus' option or choice is not for any special group or types of people, but rather for anyone who would hear his call and accept him and his teaching. A preferential love, however, could have been directed toward a special group, though certainly not toward hyp-ocrites (Mt 23) and the self-righteous (Lk 16:15; 18:9-14). Jesus, while never excluding anyone who would respond to his call On 3:1), may have had a special love for those perhaps best described as physically unfortunate (Mt 4:23-24) and spiritually dispossessed (Mk 1:12-18 and 5:1-20). Nevertheless, when it came to who this Jesus said would be "greatest in the kingdom of heaven," it was not the poor, nor the unfortunate or dispossessed, but "whoever hum-bles himself like this child" (Mt 18:~t) and "whoever obeys and teaches these commandments" (Nit 5:19b). This would seem to argue that Jesus' preferential love was for whoever accepted him and lived a life of dependence on God, as much as it was for the poor, the unfortunate, and the dispossessed. Those who point to Matthew 5:3 as evidence that Jesus had a preferential love for the poor o~erlook the fact that that verse is immediately followed by similar blessings on.those who mourn, the meek, those who search for evidence of the kingdom on earth, as well as on the merciful, the pure of heart, the peacemakers, September-October 199Y 659 Tripole ¯ The Roots of Faith-and-Justice and those who are persecuted because of their commitment to Jesus--all of whom may be different types of persons for whom Jesus had a preferential option or who may (more likely) be the same people denoted by different dimensions of their lives, in which case the term poor is probably an all-inclusive category. Since the Gospel, by the time it was written, was being addressed to a Christian community already formed, it is also possible that these beatitudes are intended collectively to describe worthy mem-bers of the Christian community, in which case the poor of the beatitudes are all who have turned to Jesus in faith, hope, and love and are committed to serve him with their lives until the end. This more extended sense of the meaning of the poor has been confirmed by recent statements. In 1986 the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith stated: "The .special option for the poor, far from being a sign of particularism or sectarianism, man-ifests the universality of the church's being and mission. This option excludes no one"; and John Paul II, in his Christmas mes-sage of 1984, listed fourteen separate groups under the concept of the poor, two of which are those who suffer from psychological violence and families that suffer from the moral upheaval of soci-ety due to consumerism.23 A Better Formulary to Explain the Priestly Apostolate GC32's ultimate goal was not simply to promote justice in the world by altering unjust social structures. This is not enough, for it simply attempts to redress the external order. What it wanted to do ultimately was to transform inner lives, to reshape who Jesuits and others are, as a necessary foundation for reestablish-ing the dignity of the human person and right relationships in the human community. The outreach of justice is not .great enough to accomplish this. What decree 4 should have made its primary focus was not human justice but divine justice, the entire process of God's sav-ing relationship toward his people. Instead of putting its primary focus on human justice, it should have put it on the transforma-tion of the human heart so as to bring it into a saving relationship with the divine, which would then be expressed in saving rela-tionships with others. A better formular~ to clarify these goals would be "the service of the faith through the promotion of a Christian and human culture." 660 Review for Religious This formulary keeps the mission's Christian dimension clear and puts inculturation at the forefront of evangelizing efforts. The primary goal of Jesuits and, indeed, of all apostolic religious would, accordingly, be to promote their own personal faith rela-tionship with Jesus Christ through endeavors to inculturate his gospel; in doing this they would be fostering and inculcating val-ues not only consistent with the gospel but also conducive to a truly human society. Such a program would be broad enough to include the promotion of justice and all or most of the other apostolates appropriate to religious life as well. Concentrating work on the pro-motion of justice helps to change external relationships, but it does not necessarily touch hearts, the way peo-ple think and the standards they use to measure success. It does not touch who we are and how we seek fulfill-ment. It does not necessarily restruc-ture our personal relationship to God--or to God in Christ, as the Ignatian focus would put it. Let us briefly examine a.typical apostolate of religious, namely, edu-cation. If we overdo the promotion of justice among our students, there is a danger that the Christian life may come to mean only redressing unjust social structures, but not changing who the students are. Students often seek a secure identity for themselves by adopting secular society's production-and-consumption values, values that embrace greed, money, power, and prestige. There is even danger that, in religious life, the promotion of justice may become a slick way of appearing to care without having any real transformation take place inside us. The promotion ofiustice urges us to fit into our lives some time for thinking of others, but it does not necessar-ily touch our fundamental options. In spite of programs promoting justice in our schools, our students often leave with an understanding of Christianity that accepts as a given that the normal human being lives a me-cen-tered life. The promotion of justice is likely to cut away only a Concentrating work on the promotion of justice helps to change external relationships, but it does not necessarily touch hearts, the way people think and the standards they use to measure success. Septe~ber-October 199Y 661 Tripole * The Roots of Faitb-and-ffustice small part from that me-centered existence. Justice actions can easily fall into the category of works of charity seen as addenda required of those who would be Christian, but who otherwise" lead self-centered lives. This leaves the rich to continue to get richer while the poor get poorer, with the Christian willingly sharing in that search for wealth and power, feeling there is noth-ing wrong as long as life is tinged with social concern. It is little wonder, then, that when there is an open clash in society between the values of the world and Catholic values, the church loses regularly. Christianity has come to be perceived as a side issue, whose primary purpose is to help the needy, and whose legitimate requirements are satisfied by giving some time or money to social causes. In this scenario Christianity's role is to make people feel good--whether as giver or receiver--rather than to make them redefine their understanding of who they are. The church thus loses the right to ask for a redefinition of human existence that would involve a commitment of one's whole life to Christ, to the life of the beatitudes, and to Christ's church. Union with Christ and through him with the Father is pri-mary, and this is not necessarily established by the promotion of justice. People must be led to understand that a personal rela-tionship with Christ through his church is primary and that this demands a commitment so profound that it challenges one's def-inition of oneself. A fundamental change occurs when people give themselves to their baptismal identification with Christ, and the new moral life is consequent upon that change. The absolute requirement in the service of the faith--for reli-gious as for anyone--is identification with Christ: not just to be men and women for others, but to be committed and involved, through personal faith experience, with Someone who re-creates who we are, so that as other Christs we think and act with the mentality, value perceptions, attitudes, and habits that are his. This kind of faith experience is so fundamental that it revolu-tionizes one's existence; it permeates one's whole life. It is this deeper transformation that Paul VI saw operating in effective evafigelization and that he perhaps felt was not pre-sent in the call to promote justice. To promote justice is to seek to establish equitable relations among people individually and collectively. To seek to establish Christian and human culture is to seek to transform people's mind-sets, the precondition for the establishment of a just society. 662 Review fo'r Religious In the coming millennium, the purpose of our religious apos-tolate must be to redress not the lack of justice so much as the lack of fully human beings--men and women who are motivated by Christ and by the beatitudes he proclaimed. To achieve that goal is far greater and more important than simply to promote jus-tice. The church and the world are in need of religious who will work for the transformation of minds and hearts, other people's as well as their own. This can be accomplished only if we restore the person of Christ and the centrality of a life of faith in him to the center of our mission statements. In doing that, we shall also be working for the promotion of all the values he stands for, val-ues not limited to but including the promotion of justice. Notes ~ Continuity is being affirmed with the decrees of General Congregation 32 (GC32), which met in Rome from 2 December 1974 to 7 March 1975 and General Congregation 33 (GC33), which met in Rome from 2 September to 25 October 1983. References from the doc-uments of GC34 are taken from "The Interim Documents of General Congregation 34 of the Society of Jesus," National Jesuit News 24, no. 5 (April 1995), special pull-out section, pp. 1-40. Here the reference is to "Our Mission and Justice," §3, pp. 6-8 at 6. z A more complete presentation of the issues discussed in the paper may be found in the author's Faith Beyond Justice: Widening the Perspective (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1994). 3 "Our Mission Today: The Service of Faith and the Promotion of Justice," decree 4 of the 32nd General Congregation, in Documents of the 31st and 32nd General Congregations of the Society of Jesus, ed. John W. Padberg SJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1977), pp. 411-438, §18 (hereafter, paragraphs are noted in the text). Other documents in this volume are noted under Documents. 4 A letter dated 8 February 1995 to the author from Gerard J. Hughes SJ, chairperson of the commission that composed the decree, confirms this impression. He states that references to supernatural justice were inserted at the end to make clearer the idea that such activity was under-stood as part of the priestly ministry of Jesuits. 5 Jean-Yves Calvez sJ, Faith and Justice: The Social Dimension of Evangelization, trans. John E. Blewett SJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1991 [1985]), p. 35 (hereafter, Calvez, and pages are noted in the text). 6 Appendix to "Letter of the Cardinal Secretary of State to Father General," 2 May 1975, Documents, p. 547. 7 Pedro Arrupe SJ, Witnessing to Justice Vatican City: Pontifical Commission Justice and Peace, 1972), p. 41. September-October 199~ 663 Tripole * The Roots of Faitb-and-ffustice s Pedro Arrupe SJ, "To Major Superiors of Latin America on the Social Apostolate in Latin America," 12 December 1966, Acta Romana Societatis Iesu 16 (1967): 791; Calvez, p. 27. 9 "Rooted and Grounded in Love," in Pedro Arrupe SJ, One Jesuit's Spiritual Journey: Selected Letters and Addresses, vol. 5 (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1986), §67. ,0 John Paul II, Rich in Mercy (Dives in Mi~ericordia) (Washington: USCC, 1981), §12. l~ The original text reads: "la service de la foi, dont la promotion de la justice constitue une exigence absolue"; the official Latin reads: "fidei servitium, cui promotio justitiae ut exigentia absoluta pertinet" (Acta Roman Societatis Iesu 16 [1975]: 330-331). The complete French and Latin texts are found on pp. 330-375. GC34's decree "Jesuits and the Situation of Women in Church and Civil Society" reaffirms this position (~8, p. 30). 12 "Justice in the World: Synod of Bishops' Second General Assembly," 30 November 1971, §6, in Joseph Gremillion, The Gospel of Peace and Justice: Catholic Social Teaching since Pope John (Mary.knoll: Orbis Books, 1976); pp. 513-529 at 520. 13 Charles M. Murphy, "Action for Justice as Constitutive of the Preaching of the Gospel: What Did the 1971 Synod Mean?" Theological Studies 44, no. 2 (June 1983): 298-311. ,4 Avery Dulles SJ, "Faith, Justice, and the Jesuit Mission," Assembly 1989: Jesuit Ministry in Higher Education (Washington: Jesuit Conference, 1990), pp. 19-25 at 24. ,5 Decree 4 states that the promotion of justice is both an "absolute requirement" of the service of faith (§2) and "an integral part of evange-lization" (§30). The decree gives no consideration to the marked differ-ence between the two statements. The latter would allow for apostolates not directly expressive of the promotion of justice; the former would not. Note that GC34's "Our Mission and. Justice" uses only the expression "integral part" when addressing the role of the promotion of justice in the Jesuit mission, fdr example, §1 (p. 6). 16 "Human Development and Christian Salvation," Origins 7, no. 20 (3 November 1977): 305 and 307-313 (hereafter, section and page are noted in the text). ,7 E.R. Achtemeier, "Righteousness in the Old Testament," in The Interpreter's Dictionary of the Bible (New York: Abingdon, 1962), vol. 4, pp. 80-85 at 84. ,8 p.j. Achtemeier, "Righteousness in the New Testament," in The Interpreter's Dictionary of the Bible (New York: Abingdon, 1962), vol. 4, pp. 91-99 at 91. ,9 Robert J. Karris OFM, "The Gospel according to Luke," in New Jerome Biblical Commentary, 48:39. 2o The New American Bible, Saint Joseph Edition (New York: Catholic Book Publishing Co., 1986), p. 16. 664 Review for Religious 2~ John P. Meier, Matthew (Wilmington: Michael Glazier, 1980), p. 39. 2., Eugene A. LaVerdiere SSS and William G. Thompson SJ, "New Testament Communities in Transition: A Study of Matthew and Luke," Theological Studies 37, no. 4 (December 1976): 567-597 at 581. 23 Origins 15, no. 44 (17 April 1986): 723, and Origins 14, no. 30 (10 January 1985): 498. First Response A his mystical experience at the river Cardoner, Ignatius described himself as "another man." As Martin Tripole sees things, that personal, fundamental change in a person remains the mission of the Jesuits today, and it is accomplished primarily by the preaching of the gospel. Using his own experience as a teacher of theology at St. Joseph's University, he argues that his job as a Jesuit in this situ-ation is to challenge students to question the values of the soci-ety in which they live, values which are mainly selfish, the values of the "me generation" which sound very much like the values Ignatius describes in the Exercises as those of the enemy: wealth, honor, and pride. The Jesuit does this by teaching his students the beauty of a life based on the beatitudes. But Tripole's concern is that this mission has been upstaged by an emphasis on social justice in the Society of Jesus since the days of its 32nd General Congregation and the publication of its famous document "Our Mission Today: The Service of Faith and the Promotion of Justice." The unfortunate consequence of this has been a lapse of memory. Jesuits have forgotten that social jus-tice depends--at least for the Christian--on a personal conversion to Jesus' understanding and way of life. What this means con-cretely in the situation of Jesuit schools is that Jesuits do not chal-lenge the secular values which students are taught as members of American society, but are content to teach them that they are good Christians if they volunteer their time or money to some good social cause. Thus Tripole sees the present emphasis in Jesuit schools on service, learning, and volunteering as deficient. It does not get at the root of the matter. It does not challenge and change the val- September-October 199~ 665 Tripole ¯ The Roots of Faith-and-Justice ues of students, their sense of themselves. It does not pay sufficient attention to the gospel itself. He admits that it is always hard to preach the gospel authen-tically. Teachers who want to challenge the values of their stu-dents have to examine their own as well. The social-justice approach, on the other hand, is much easier. It deals with action, The present emphasis in Jesuit schools on service, learning, and volunteering does not get at the root of the matter. It does not challenge and change the values of students, their sense of themselves. not values. It is acceptable to the larger society. It does not require great soul-searching. In short, it is a work, something external, whereas the preaching of the gospel demands first of all the changing of one's heart and mind and soul. And here Tripole can call on Ignatius for support. Ignatius was convinced that any permanent and worthwhile result must begin with the interior of the person and work from there out to external action. The social-justice approach, on the other hand, does not work that way. It begins and ends with external actions and leaves hearts untouched. So Tripole is calling for a return of the Jesuits to an emphasis on the preaching of the gospel. The effort to create a just society will follow from this preaching. But it is the observance of this proper order-- faith first, then works--which he sees as having been lost by those who have made faith and justice synonymous. Unless this primary emphasis on the gospel itself is main-tained, Trii~ole fears, Jesuits will become simply social workers. Moreover, many of their traditional works, since they will not be able to justify themselves as works of social justice, will be aban-doned. Higher education, at least in some of its disciplines, say mathematics, would be on this list~ For how can the work of a Jesuit professor of math be understood and justified as a work of social justice? As he sees it, the commitment of the Jesuits to justice as the criterion for its service of faith was the result of the spirit of the times, the late 1960s and early '70s, the time when society at large and the Society of Jesus were in a crisis of self-identity, when 666 Review for Religious eight hundred Jesuits left the Society each year, many perhaps because they found the priesthood a hindrance rather than a help in their attempts to do justice. Moreover, such efforts have not produced a better world. Thus he would claim that it is now time to correct this mistake, to put justice in its place, and to get back to preaching the gospel and thereby building what those who emphasized social justice wanted to build but failed to build, a more just world. Tripole's argumentation is appealing. How could any Christian deny that he or she wants to preach the gospel and believes in the beauty and truthfulness of the life Jesus describes in the beat-itudes? But then the question emerges: Must not the preaching of the gospel be fruitful? And what kind of fruit is called for today? Ignatius was a practical man. He looked at his situation and then decided how to bring the gospel to effective expression. What then is the effective expression of the gospel demanded of Christians today? It is the building of a just society for our world. Therefore Jesuits should be involved in it. And the only difference between this effort 'today and the efforts of Ignatius and earlier Jesuits is that Jesuits today recognize that economic structures are morally charged and changeable. Thus their effort to change them is simply the modern way of preaching the gospel effec-tively. It is the concrete application of the gospel to the situation at hand. And whether this effort is labeled integral to or consti-tutive of or essential to the gospel is really secondary. But it itself is necessary. Otherwise faith stands convicted as dead. Gerald F. Finnegan sJ Assistant professor of theology St. Joseph's University Second Response InmUSt agree with Father Tripole's suggestion that we need a ew formula to express the Society's understanding of its works, goals, and overall mission. Furthermore, I support the proposition that the varied apostolic endeavors of Jesuits are most likely to be both accurately described and properly justified by September-October 199Y 667 Tripole ¯ The Roots of Faitb-and-3~ustice the formulary which calls us to "the service of faith through the promotion of a Christian and human culture." It seems to me that to leave unchallenged and unchanged GC32's statement that the mission of the Society is "the service of faith, of which the promotion of justice is an absolute require-ment" brings us face-to-face with a task which I am not sure is either valid or necessary. It seems also to be a task which smacks too much of the kind of enterprise taken up by Procrustes. For staying simply with GC32's formulary seems to suggest either that we have to cut the legs out from under certain of our apostolates or that we have to stretch mightily our understanding of what justice is all about and of what in fact it takes in order for a work of the Society to be considered as one which is promotive of that justice. If I understand GC32's formulary correctly, when it says that the promotion of justice is an absolute requirement for the service of faith, it means that unless we are promoting justice we are not serving faith. To me the truth of this idea is neither obvious nor necessary. If ultimately we Jesuits are called to work for the sal-vation of human beingsand if faith is a sine qua non for salvation, then clearly the focus of our concern and labor must be on estab-lishing and enhancing the conditions which make it possible, and even easier for individuals to respond affirmatively to the initia-tive of God's love and grace in their lives. Clearly, one way in which the atmosphere conducive to the birth and flourishing of faith is created is by seeing to it that God is not lost in the exhaustive scramble that takes place when vari-ously marginalized and oppressed people must scratch and claw their way through situations in which their basic human rights are denied and their personal dignity is violated. In light of the full richness of the meaning of redemption--namely, that human beings are saved as whole persons, as spirit and body--it makes eminent sense to say that we as Jesuits must have concern not only for the spiritual well-being of others, but also for their tem-poral or material welfare. Indeed, I seriously do.ubt that the Good News of salvation can be effectively shared without our seriously attending to somehow improving the human condition. But I must maintain ~hat there are other valid and necessary ways for Jesuits to work in the service of faith without being insen-sitive to prevalent injustices or varying forms of oppression and without in any way doing an end-around run in the face of any social or political realities which affront human dignity. There '668 Review for Religious are simply other ways to serve faith besides promoting justice, and there is absolutely no guarantee that the effect of promoting justice is the service of faith. In itself, promoting justice does not necessarily serve faith. Promoting justice may indeed be a way for us as Jesuits to work out our salvation, but promoting justice in .itself may do nothing or little to encourage and facilitate the sal-vation of others, which is pre-cisely what we Jesuits are supposed to be about. I am all for more equity and less oppression and injustice, but when people become temporally and materially better off, then what? Working to improve the material and human status of others is noble and necessary, but it is not our ultimate work and not our final norm for apos-tolic involvement. Working to ensure that people come to have more of the good things of life is fine, but the message must be loud and clear that "the more" is to be used and enjoyed "tan-tum quantum," that is, only insofar as it serves to establish and enhance union with God. In other words, the good things of life are meant simply to help us, all of us, on our return journey to God. This means that all of us have to live and prosper in the light of God's reign. And so, although there is reason to rejoice if the poor become less poor and less oppressed and less forgotten and less powerless as a result of our Society's labors, nonetheless, it seems to me that the joy for us as Jesuits might well be tempered or conditioned until we know the answer to this question: Have these same people, newly lib-erated from the chains of injustice and oppression, remained resis-tant to the strong temptations to self-complacency and self-assertion which already lead so many of us to ignore provid-ing a place for God in our lives? I am left with these two questions: (1) Would it not be more honest and reflective of the actual work of the Society to expand Promoting justice may indeed be a way for us as Jesuits to work out our salvation, but promoting justice in itself may do nothing or little to encourage and facilitate the salvation of others, which is precisely what we Jesuits are supposed to be about. September-October 199~ 669 Tripole ¯ The Roo~s of Faith-and-Justice the formula articulated by GC32? and (2)What exactly would be lost by such an expansion? Vincent J. Genovesi Professor of Christian ethics St. Joseph's University Third Response The Mission of Jesus and Our Mission Today Somewhat serendipitously, the liturgical readings for the Sunday following the weekend discussion reported in these pages were eas-ily related to the theme of the discussion. 14/-hat follows is an adap-tation of the homily given in the St. Joseph 's University Chapel for the third Sunday of year C. Local references have been elim-inated. A few words have been added from the 34th General Congregation, which was in session at the time. Wlive in a time when everyone seems to be writing mis- V V sion statements--schools, parishes, religious orders and communities, organizations of all sorts. At their best, these state-ments address, in a fresh and updated way, who we are and what we are about. One such effort has been the recent 34th General Congregation of the. Society of Jesus, a gathering of about 230 Jesuits from around the world, attempting to say what it means to be a Jesuit in 1995. Another recent effort had members of Congress proclaiminga "Contract with America" on the same front steps of the Capitol where presidents deliver their inaugu-ral addresses. In today's readings from Scripture, we have two similar expe-riences. Nehemiah (8:2ff) and Luke (4:14-21) probably would not know what we mean by mission statement, but in fact Ezra and Nehemiah are proElaiming a mission statement for the Jews who have returned from exile in Babylonia, and Luke has Jesus at the beginning of his publiF life proclaiming his mission statement, his statement of who he is and what he was about. As we listen, we are obviously challenged to ask who we are and what are we about. About 350 B.C. the Jews had returned from Babylon to reestablish themselve~s in Jerusalem, but they were confused, much 670 Review for Religious like today's resettled and repatriated refugees, and they needed leaders to help them to find themselves. Ezra the priest is trying to renew them spiritually, and Nehemiah is trying to renew them politically and socially. Ezra and Nehemiah together remind them of their roots as the people of God by reading the Law, the compilation of God's revelation to them and their traditions as the Jewish people. They redis-cover themselves in their roots and come together as community. From a murmuring, discouraged gro.up of individuals, they become a believing, worshiping community. In the Gospel, Luke is introducing Jesus at the beginnifig of his ministry. He too reaches back to roots, Jesus' roots in the Suffering Servant of Isaiah, to describe who Jesus is and what he is about. He is to bring glad tidings to the poor, to proclaim lib-erty to captives, sight to the blind--probably not wha~ his hear-ers expected to hear. Various scripture scholars point out that Luke's Jesus inher-ited the social realism of the Israel into which he was born. He would have seen his people surrounded by various degrees of bondage, oppression, and poverty, and he would have seen the alleviation of this situation as an intrinsic part of their salvation and, therefore, of his mission. He would go about transforming social systems in a distinc-tive way. For disciples he chooses not the socially influential, .but the powerless and, in Matthew's case the despised. He reveals a predilection for little pe6ple, the least favored. He uses power riot to dominate, but to free and to serve. He follows, in fact goes far beyond, the model of the Suffering Servant, who gave his life so that his people might live. As we listen to Nehemiah and to Luke, we are being chal-lenged to spell out our mission statement as Christian commu-nity in 1995. Will it sound more like Jesus in the synagogue or more like the Contract for America on the steps of the Capitol? We live at a time when men and women all around us-- Democrats, Republicans, Perotians, and whatever--are ti~rning their backs on the poor, on immigrants (legal and illegal), and even on victims of violence and abuse. Lest we blame this on politicians, remember that all too often they are simply telling us what polls sugge.st we want to hear. Much of this mean-spirited agenda is supposedly what white mid-dle- class males and the "Christian Coalition" want. We hear that Septentber-October 199~ 671 Tripole ¯ The Roots of Faitb-and-3~ce we have done enough for those on welfare, the poor, and "for-eigners." Now we must look out for ourselves, get ours first, save America first. We h~ve done enough for "them." Let "them" now help themselves. What would Jesus say to us if he were beginning his public mission here in this chapel today? Are there any fewer poor than in his day? Of course not. The number is now in the billions. In this country, the richest in the world, one of every five children is poor arid faces a lifetime of poverty. Imagine what this means in wasted humanity. Are there any fewer captives? Of course not. There are over 45 million refugees and displaced persons in the world, 80 percent of them women and children, trapped in violence, oppression, meaning-lessness. Are there fewer blind? Of course not. We see millions suffering from physical, spiritual, and intellectual blindness of every kind. The big difference between 2000 years ago and today is that we, not Jesus, are challenged to open up the scroll and make Isaiah's words ours. Thirty years ago Vatican II situated the church, not on the m~untaintop above all of the turmoil of the human condition, but down in the trenches with women and men struggling to live in the midst of that turmoil: "The joys and the hopes, the griefs and the anxieties of the men of this age, especially those who are poor or in any way afflicted, these too are the joys and hopes, the griefs and anxieties of the followers of Christ" (Gaudium et spes, §1). Twenty years ago the Society of Jesus spoke of its mission as the "service of faith, of which the promotion of justice is an absolute requirement"; since then, Jesuits and their colleagues have been trying to spell out what that means. It is sometimes said that the church's (and the Society of Jesus') interest in justice questions and in the poor is a remnant of the '60s and '70s and that it is a third-world issue not necessarily relevant to us today. We are told that we need to broaden our agenda and move on to other issues. But we have to be blind not to see that injustice, poverty, and oppression are as prevalent today as in the '60s and '70s, if not more so, and that we in the "first" world, with our own problems of violence, abuse, and neglect, are not that much more devel-oped than the "third" world. Thus it is that the recent Jesuit general congregation did not weaken, but rather strongly reaffirmed, the 1975 commitment to 672 Review for Religious a "radical life of faith that finds expression in the promotion of jus-tice for all." The international and cultural context for this com-mitment is spelled out in much greater detail, and the fundamental importance of faith is emphasized, in these words of the 34th General Congregation: "The aim of our mission., is the service of faith. The integrating principle of our mission is the inseparable link between faith and the promo-tion of the justice of the kingdom" (Interim Documents, p. 5). Work on behalf of justice is linked to the work of evangeliza-tion, inculturation, and interreli-gious dialogue. The agenda is broadened to include human rights, the sanctity of human life, the global interdependence of peoples and the environment. Within such a perspective, this is hardly the time to retreat from the mission of Jesus, "to bring glad tidings to the poor, to proclaim liberty to the captive, to give sight to the blind." Rather, it is a time to stay the course in the face of an ever more expansive agenda before us. Paul's letter to the Corinthians gives us an important insight for the ongoing task. In the Body of Christ, each of us has a different contribution to make, so that the It is sometimes said that the church's interest in justice questions and in the poor is a remnant of the '60s and '70s and that it is a third-world issue not necessarily relevant to us today. But we have to be blind not to see that injustice, poverty, and oppression are as prevalent today as in the '60s and '70s, if not more 20. total, collective effort may be successful. None of us can be involved in every cause for justice which comes to our attention, but a reading of the Gospels, the documents of Vatican II, and our most recent Jesuit congregational documents would argue that v~e need to be involved in at least one. We can pursue justice in various ways. Some of us will be more the activist, some more reflective. Many strengths are needed to solve the problems we face: the persistent work of the activist, the careful analysis of the scholar, the concerned prayer of the contemplative. September-October 199Y 673 Tripole ¯ The Roots of Faitb-and-3~stice Perhaps in the .past we have been too sweeping and too sim-plistic in our emphasis on justice; It is interesting to note one very moving exchange on the floor of the Jesuit congregation betweeri Latin Americans and those from formerly Communist countries. Both groups acknowledged how they had misread each other's motives in the past. There is no doubt that work for justice needs to be combined with strong faith if it is to be most fruitful for the kingdom and if we are to have the strength we need for the long haul. Work for justice needs to be combined with caring love if it is not to become harsh and vindictive. It needs to be part of an effort to transform culture, inculturate gospel values, if it is to have lasting, widespread significance. It must be linked to a total effort at evan-gelization for the same reason. Each of us will be able to bring one or more of these strengths to the table, each plays a different role within a complex agenda. The endless agenda left to us by Jesus, and made more explicit in the church in recent years, leaves more than enough for each of us to do in integrating faith and justice in our lives. Charles L. Currie SJ Adjunct professor of theology St. Joseph's University Many foreign missionaries depend upon people like you who donate subscriptions for them to Review for Religious. To start a subscription for a deserving missionary, please send $24 to: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Blvd. ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108 To pay by credit card, phone: 314-977-7363. 674 Review for Religious JUDE D. WEISENBECK Ecumenism a Scripture Mandate for Religious Our theme's images of "weaving" and "fabric" are indeed captivating as they relate to our present purpose. The theme affirms that the ecumenical vision, far from being an optional and ancillary dimension of religious life (or, holding to the image, a hem or a fringe), is so integral to our vocation that removing it would run the risk of caus-ing the entire garment to unravel. I hope here to focus reflection. To accomplish this, I believe we need to move away from the natural tendency to ask, "In what ways can religious communities contribute to the goals of the ecumenical movement?" and toward that self-understanding whereby we recognize ecumenism as being at the very heart of what it means to be a reli-gious. Promoting Christian unity is not merely something that is appropriate for religious to be engaged in; it is so integral to our way of life that religious life without an ecumenical thrust would be like religious life without a love for the poor or without concern for peace and justice issues. Undoubtedly an immediate reaction on the part of some might very well be: "Spoken like a true ecumaniac! Jude D. Weisenbeck SDS presented the following (here slightly revised) as the keynote address at the national consultation (Albuquerque, New Mexico; 28-30 April 1995) of men and women religious engaged in ecumenism. He is the director of the Office of Ecumenism for the Archdiocese of Louisville. He may be addressed at Flaget Center; 1935 Lewiston Drive; Louisville, Kentucky 40216. ecumenism September-October 1995 675 Weisenbeck ¯ Ecumenism a Scripture Mandate for Religious Sharing life to the fullest is what I mean by wholeness. In turn I think of the ecumenical movement as promoting the sharing of life. Turn them loose and they will try to make ecumaniacs out of all of us." Please do not respond in that way without first hearing me out. The perspective embraced here rests upon three simple but firmly held convictions: (1) The Scriptures call Christians to wholeness in all of its marvelous dimensions. (2) Religious life is about responding to this call to wholeness in an especially com-mitted way. (3) The ecumenical movement is fundamentally about restoring wholeness to the entire family of God's people. I agree with Michael Kinnamon who, in various recent talks, tenders his conviction that unity is at the very heart of the Good News. It is not one among many themes, nor is it peripheral; it is central to all that the gospel stands for. In the plan of God, shared life is the norm, and it is division that needs explanation. Sharing life to the fullest is what I mean by wholeness. In turn I think of the ecumenical move-ment as promoting the sharing of life. This is a positive idea and an ideal toward which the Scriptures constantly call us. As per-vasive as brokenness may be in our experience, it is still a depar-ture from the norm. Brokenness is something to be deplored, not something to be taken for granted, much less accepted. For reflec-tive sages of centuries past, it was very disconcerting to find our world full of conflict, pain, and suffering. This needed an expla-nation. They concluded that it could not have come from God and is not part of God's original plan. Broken bodies lack wholeness. Divided families lack whole-ness. Communities split apart by dissension and conflict lack wholeness. The church, fragmented into thousands of denomi-nations, lacks wholeness. All of these are in some ways similar to the pieces of a puzzle still in the box. Everything that is needed to complete the picture is there, but until they are put together in their proper relationships, the puzzle just is not a complete pic-ture. It lacks wholeness. I would like to explore this scriptural call to wholeness in somewhat greater detail. The first image I offer for considera- 676 Review for Religious tion is one from the Book of Genesis. What do we find there? We find the creation story, a story about bringing harmony out of chaos. Consider the elements in this image: ¯ the earth was without form and void; ¯ darkness was over the face of the abyss; ° a mighty wind swept over the surface of the waters. We have an image of darkness, formlessness, emptiness, tur-bulence. Enter God bearing gifts: ° light in regulated rotation for night and day; ¯ the ordered relationship of water and dry land; ¯ fertility, resulting in fresh growth, seeds, fruit, young animals, and children; ¯ water, teeming with countless creatures and moistening the dry earth; ¯ an enormous diversity of plants and animals sharing life in harmony: fish for the seas, birds for the air, animals for the land; ° the human species, man and woman, sharing their life in their own wonderful diversity; ¯ the harmonious ordering of all things, each in its own designed relationship to all other creatures. A primary image of the entire story is that of shared life in all its goodness. God shares the divine life through creation; all crea-tures share the divine gifts with each other. Shared life is the norm. Conversely, death, confusion, shame enter when life is no longer shared. Adam and Eve decide to take what is not theirs, and the rest is history. The Hebrew Bible and Jewish tradition to this very day are rich in their contributions to this theme, as is evidenced by that remarkable document entitled "Guidelines for the Catechetical Presentation of Jews and Judaism in the New Testament" issued in 1986 by the United States Catholic Conference. A few pas-sages will suffice to illustrate the point: The Jewish understanding of God's reign is of universal harmony and wholeness (shalom), in which all the peoples of the earth will gather to worship God. This understanding of the End toward which all human history is oriented pro-vides a constant and present challenge to Christians and Jews (for example, Is 2:11 and Is 25; Mi 4:4). (Dr. Eugene September-October 199Y 677 Weisenbeck * Ecumenism a So4pture Mandate for Religious J. Fisher and Rabbi Leon Klenicki, In Our Time, p. 64) This sense of wholeness and unity is intended to mark both the hearing of God's word in the synagogue and the festive Sabbath meal in the home (p. 65). The great Jewish festivals underscore in different ways this constant journeying toward wholeness (p. 65). Elizabeth Johnson echoes these sentiments when she com-ments on both the Hebrew tradition and the New Testament: At the heart of [Jesus'] preaching was the symbol of the reign of God. Taken from the Hebrew tradition, this sym-bol signifies what the state of affairs will be when God is recognized as the One on whom everyone sets their hearts, when God finally reigns . The reign of God is the situ-ation that results when God's will is really done. VV-hat is God's will? As revealed in Jesus, God's will is our well-being. God wants the wholeness, the healing, and the salvation of every creature and of all of us taken together. The reign of God, then, involves justice and peace among everyone, heal-ing and wholeness everywhere, fullness of life enjoyed by all. It is what the Scriptures call the situation of shalom, peace experienced not only as the absence of war but peace as the fullness of life. (Consider Jesus, pp. 51-52) When an ecumenist quotes Scripture, especially the New Testament, one normally expects that John 17:20-23 (Christ's famous prayer for unity) will be cited. It is, of course, a beautiful and appropriate prayer. However, it is not the only New Testament passage with ecumenical significance. I would like to suggest that John 10:10 is also very much to the point. Christ says, "I have come that humankind may have life, and may have it in all its fullness." This statement is set in sharp contrast to the work of the thief who comes to steal, kill, and destroy. It is within this context--that we may have life in all its full-ness- that Jesus' preoccupation with healing must be understood. One of the most pervasive images of the gospel is that of Christ engaged in healing. This includes not only physical healing, but also the healing of minds and hearts and souls. The stories of the woman at the well, of Nicodemus, of the forgiveness of sins, and of the resurrection itself are all instances of the healing of minds, hearts, and souls. Living life and sharing life to the fullest are the norm; it is brokenness ~nd division that are the exceptions and departures from the norm. 678 Review for Religious This naturally brings us to my second firm conviction, namely, that religious life is about seeking wholeness. For religious life is about living the Gospels in the most perfect way possible. We call it responding to the evangelical counsels. We take this so seriously that we make public vows to God to do so. We respond to the call to bring wholeness into our own personal lives and to bring wholeness to a very broken world. During the past couple of years I have been involved with a project at the Cathedral of the Assumption in Louisville, Kentucky, called Caring for the Soul of the Community. This ecumenical project explores spirituality from a wide range of per-spectives, and it leads me to conclude that, for almost all people, spirituality is an attempt to get in touch with ultimate goodness. It is a desire to possess life in all its fullness, the life which Jesus promises us. It is that yearning for wholeness. Is that not what religious life also is about? And what stands in the way of possessing life in all its fullness is the same today as in the Garden of Eden--the refusal to share life. It is the incli-nation to take for ourselves what does not entirely belong to us or to keep for ourselves what is designed to be shared. We live out our lives in community, not only the immediate community of our religious sisters and brothers, but the larger communities making up our church and ultimately the entire fam-ily of God. Consequently, our concern for wholeness must extend beyond ourselves to the various circles of larger communities of which we are a part. Individually we can never be fully whole unless the entire community is whole. Our call, then, is to seek wholeness for the entire community. This brings us to my third basic conviction, that the ecu-menical movement is a response to the call to seek wholeness for the entire Christian community we call the church. The church is broken, fragmented, divided. Healing this brokenness, this frag-mentation, this dividedness and bringing wholeness to the church are what the ecumenical movement is all about. This has to be a matter of grave concern to those who take the gospel seriously. Members of religious communities may not take the broken-ness and the dividedness of the church for granted any more than we may take poverty and injustice for granted. The entire church suffers, and the people for whom the church is a sacrament of Christ's love suffer, when doctrinal differences and other dis-agreements divide members of the church one from another. Septe~tber-October 199Y 679 Weisenbeck ¯ Ecumenism a Scripture Mandate for Religious A divided church is both a scandal and a handicap. It is a scan-dal because persons professing the kind of conversion required by baptism prefer to go their separate ways rather than to continue in dialogue and prayer until irreconcilable church-dividing con-troversies are settled. It is a handicap because the life of the church and the life-giving powers of the church are not fully and mutu-ally shared both by its members among themselves and with those who need the church that they may live life to the fullest. Is not a failure to reach out in love to those separated from us in some sense a failure to live our vow of poverty to the fullest? We keep for ourselves what should be shared with others. Is not our failure to attempt to enter into relationship with other Christians who are not in communion with us a kind of disre-gard for our vow of chastity? Instead of observing celibate chastity for the sake of freeing ourselves to cultivate the numerous other relationships required for a healthy Body of'Christ, we retreat into a celibacy of aloneness in which shared life is seriously inhib-ited. And our vow of obedience: here is where the prayer of Christ for unity is disregarded if we fail to take seriously the mandate to work for unity both within and among the Christian communities. If a divided church is both a scandal and a handicap, then also a religious not concerned for the unity of the Body of Christ is an anomaly. Life cannot he lived to the fullest without sharing life. Promoting unity among Christians is both a mandate of the Sacred Scriptures and an integral part of the very fabric of reli-gious life. Kansas Sunflower bright and bold nodding in the breeze splash of color; smile of God sunshine for the road. Mary E. Penrose OSB 680 Review for Religiou~ BERNARD SEIF Too Deep for Dogma ~otnieS y oenalry bfeivfoe rme itlhees afowuanyd ainndg foofu onudre do wasn r elictetlnet lmy oasn a1s9t8e6ry, .j uAst bit of divine synchronicity, I often wondered--now I know it was much more than just a bit, it was a gloriously large dose. The juxtaposition of the two communities has led to great joy and new life for many people, clear signs of the intervention and presence of our Creator. I always knew the ashram, which is what I will call Arsha Vidya Gurukulam for purposes of simplicity, was nearby, Ashram is a generic term for a spiritual community in the Hindu tradition, much like a monastery in the Christian tradition. A gurukulam, more specifically, is a very special Hindu community where one or more gurus (also called swamis) live and teach, passing on the wisdom of revelation, holy scripture, the practice of meditation, and so forth. Not only did I know that the ashram was nearby, but I knew that it resonated with what seemed to be an ageless long-ing within me for a deeper experien.ce of Eastern traditions. Thomas Merton's love of the East had long nourished a similar love within me. Dom l~ede Griffiths' many years of living and guiding Shantivanam Ashram in south India, wherein Christian and Hindu traditions meet without loss to either tradition, but rather enrichment, long fascinated me. My own energies in more recent years have been spent largely in the foundation and running of the Salesian Monastery. I had, Bernard Seif SMC wrote for our July-August 1992 issue. He continues living .his monastic life and sharing it with others through the practice of clinical psychology and spiritual direction, with part-time ministry at the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth. He may b.e addressed at the Salesian Monastery; HC 1, Box 455, Frantz Road; Brodheadsville, Pennsylvania 18322-9630. Septentber-October 199Y 681 Seif ¯ Too Deep for Dogma however, wandered onto the property of the ashram a few times during those years, but did not get too far. Most of that was due to my own timidity. On one reconnoitering I spoke with a teenage boy who had stopped on his bike for some reason along one of the paths. We felt a warm and lively connection. We chatted for five or ten minutes and then both of us left, happy for the encounter. The only prob-lem was that the boy was speaking Hindi and I was speaking English. Neither of us understood, on a surface level, a word of what the other was saying. Deep in our hearts, however, we knew that there was a connection. Such is the kind of connection or dia-logue which I would like to present and encourage in this all too brief. Once when one of my sisters, who is a Sister of St. Joseph of Chestnut Hill, Philadelphia, was visiting our monastery with a mutual friend, another Sister of St. Joseph, we traveled over to the flea market situated on the grounds of a drive-in theater across from the ashram. My hidden agenda was to get the three of us over to the ashram and explore it a bit. After purchasing some discount cereal and dented cans of decaffeinated coffee, we walked across the road and onto the property. This time I caught a glimpse of the top of the temple on our way and was able to fol-low the paths which lid to it. Peering in the windows we could see a few hundred people sitting peacefully on the floor. I was hooked. I needed to be in there. As we went to an entrance, a smiling man with an Indian accent welcomed us and encouraged us to go into the temple. Before I knew it we all had our shoes off, had left our recently purchased items out in the hall, and were sitting on the floor before a man dressed in orange robes who spoke in English and every once in a while sang something in Sanskrit which the community repeated. I was mesmerized. My sister, on the other hand, was mesmerized by the hole in my white running sock. The gathering began to break up for lunch; I wanted to stay but knew I had my visitors to attend to, and so we left to con-tinue o.ur journey even though we were assured of a welcome at lunch with the ashram community. Tha.t night as I sat quietly reviewing the day, thinking and praying about its events, I picked up some of the literature I had taken from the ashram. There was a sheet of paper announcing some classes being given by Swami Tadatamananda with a little picture of him printed on it. Mthough I had never met him, did not even know if he spoke English, I 682 Review for Religious knew at some very deep level that we would become good friends, and so it has come to be. After a weekend students' class, which the Sunday morning lectures are called, I introduced myself to "Swami T," as people affectionately call him. There was an immediate smile of recog-nition when I mentioned who I was. He had read about our monastery in the newspaper a year or two before and had saved the article to look us up one day. Knowing how precious the gift of time is, I am always cautious about taking up the time of another and thought of keeping our encounter brief. The swami, however, made me feel so wel-come that we sat down and had coffee and talked for a long time. The upshot of that meeting is that our community is graced with his presence on a regular basis, coming to us several times a week for Evening Prayer (and sometimes Eucharist), dinner, chapter, and some private time together. During this time I tutor the swami a bit in counsel-ing (I am a clinical psychologist), and he teaches me Vedic chant-ing. We have shared our spiritual journeys with one another and experience an ease and honesty which brings joy to our hearts. Both of our communities are supportive of our relationship. The other monastics and our associate members enjoy the swami's presence, and the sharing of our spiritual heritages (which often is experienced as one heritage) is mutually enriching. In fact, Swami T has now become an associate member of the monastery. More recently Swami Dayananda, founder of the ashram and a venerated teacher throughout the world, asked me to come and speak at a Christmas gathering in their community about Christ and Christmas. What a thrill it was to offer the Good News in an atmosphere of mutual dialogue and respect. No one was or is trying to convert the other. We are simply shar- Before I knew it we all had our shoes off, had left our recently purchased items out in the hall, and were sitting on the floor before a man dressed in orange robes who spoke in English and every once in a while sang something in Sanskrit which the community repeated. September-October 1995 683 Seif ¯ Too Deep for Dogma ing our experience of the sacred and finding a profound unity therein. Such is the experience of a group that has long been dia-loguing on this deeper level of prayer, rather than on dogma, called the Monastic Interreligious Dialogue.~ This group is made up primarily of Hindu, Buddhist, and Catholic monastics from throughout the world. My friends and my spiritual director tell me that they see my excitement as I talk about this part of my spiritual journey. They see the life that it brings to me and others. I sometimes expect them to say something like "What next?" yet they encourage me to continue on in the way that the Lord is leading me these days. With a grateful heart I must admit that I too wonder "What next?" Yet what does it matter? My recent spiritual experiences have helped me to live, better than ever, in the spirit of our Salesian charism peacefully in the present moment. The day that manifested the reality of East-West dialogue which is carried on at a level deeper than dogma occurred shortly before Christmas when the Salesian Monastery and the ashram held a joint puja (Hindu worship service) at the monastery. The form was totally Hindu and the content totally Christian. The service enacts the welcoming of an honored guest. Oil lamps blazed in the oratory as incense and flowers were offered. We chanted the doxology in Sanskrit. Hindu and Christian alike touched foreheads to the ground before the Blessed Sacrament. Even the newspaper reporter eventually took off his shoes, respecting the holy ground on which we stood. The presence of God was palpable in the oratory, and I saw tears glisten in the eyes of my friend at one point. There was absolutely no division among us. We were all experiencing the same God. In conclusion, I encourage fidelity to one's faith tradition as well as all forms of dialogue, but I believe that we cannot wait to hammer out agreements on paper. Praying and meditating together is a form of dialogue which bonds us without any need to leave the tradition one comes from. Nor does it create a hybrid religion. When one is properly grounded, there is no threat of these things happening. Rather, it takes us deeper into the won-der of who we truly are to the Source from which we all come. Note ~ A bulletin is available; write Bulletin of Monastic Interreligious Dialogue; Abbey of Gethsemani; 3642 Monks Road; Trappist, Kentucky 40051. 684 Re~v~ iew for Religious CURT CADORETTE Catholicism in the Social Order of a New Era On I0 April 1995 Newsweek, a weather vane of American middle-class sensibilities, displayed a close-up picture of Pope John Paul II on its cover. The pre-Holy Week edition fea-tured an analysis of the pope's recent encyclical, Evangelium vitae, a lengthy and important document that calls into question the ethical assumption of the developed world or, from John Paul's vantage point, the lack thereof. Calling for the creation of "a cul-ture of life" rather than "a culture of death," the pope criticizes the materialism of the developed world, birth control, abortion, euthanasia, and capital punishment. The encyclical is unprece-dented in its intensity and cohesion. Social analysis, characteris-tic of his early encyclicals such as Laborem exercens, is linked with reflection on personal and social ethics, a theme in his more recent writings. In the pope's estimation, we stand on the brink of catas-trophe, tempted by nihilism and violence that already claim mil-lions of victims every year and may destroy us all if left unchecked. In Evangelium vitae John Paul is a social analyst and social ethi-cist. He calls on individuals and societies to reflect deeply on their behav, ior and the contemporary social order, affirming what is good and rectifying what is deficient in the light of humankind's innate dignity and transcendence. His plea is that we see and treat each other as God-given gifts rather than as opponents or objects and thus counteract the destructive violence that afflicts us. Curt Cadorette NIM holds the John Henry Newman chair in Roman Catholic Studies at the University of Rochester. His address is 430 Rush Rhees Library; University of Rochester; Rochester, New York 14627. September-October 199Y 685 Cadorette ¯ Catbolicis~n in the Social Order The common wisdom that Roman Catholicism is nothing more than its hierarchy, or even the dominant Christian church in the Western world, is wrong, both theologically and demographically. The reactions to the encyclical were equally predictable, from "challenging" to "monstrous." Some critics pointed to the pope's nai'vet4 about free-market economics and the inevitability of casu-alties in a rough-and-tumble world. Some members of the pro-choice movement characterized the encyclical as another exercise in Catholic misogyny. Since the encyclical's critics had to read and analyze 198 pages of heavy prose in just a few days, we can assume that their analyses require further refinement. In any event, Newsweek proves that the title of this article is germane. Catholicism is a national and international part of the social order. Some rejoice, some lament, but none can deny that a religious insti-tution with nearly a billion peo-ple is a significant force in the contemporary world. However one assesses the current papacy, (and prudent analysts are advised to wait several decades before deciding its historical fate) there can be no doubt that John Paul II has helped make the Catholic Church a more significant interlocutor in social dis-course. Beyond the shallow categorizations of John Paul's ideas lie a great deal of thought, analysi;, and passionate concern about the modern world. Of course, many people, including loyal Catholics, disagree with some of his ideas. H+ speaks from a Eurocentric vantage point and understands the institutional church in a profoundly hierarchical way. Like all of us, he has his contradictions. He feels others' pains but refuses to deal with aspects of the institutional church that sometimes cause pain. Although he is a student of modernity, he is essentially a medieval man. The memory of Christendom seems to control his imagi-nation and make him deeply wary of post-Enlightenment plural-ism. He questiofis a civilization predicated on materialism, convinced that a return to Christian values can somehow rem-edy our global ills. Although many people resonate with his crit- 686 Review for Religious icism of modernity, many also question his vision of Christendom, in large part because of the historical record of the church itself. Institutional Catholicism suffers from a credibility problem. Fortunately, the question of credibility is being addressed by ordi-nary Catholics who are remaking the church to which they belong. We need to focus on these people as much as on the papal persona to understand what contemporary Catholicism is really all about and how it affects the social order. "Real" Catholicism Media images of Catholicism, of course, are only marginally accurate. In today's world, news has been commercialized. It is sold in package form to consumers who pick and choose accord-ing to their tastes. More troubling, however, is the erroneous assertion that what the media calls Catholicism is Catholicism. Impression to the contrary, popes, bishops, and priests, as well as the church in the United States, are only a tin.y part of what is now one of the most culturally, linguistically, and politically diverse rgligious institutions in the world today. The common wisdom that Roman Catholicism is nothing more than its hier-archy, or even the dominant Christian church in the Western wo~ld, is wrong, both theologically and demographically. Such assumptions have been incorrect since the 1960s when the center of gravity in Catholicism moved from the developed to the devel-oping world. The bishop of Rome now presides over a religious community that is more African, Asian, and Latin American than American and European. Catholicism is undergoing profound internal change as millions of non-Western people, most of whom are economically poor and politically marginalized, enter its ranks as full members. In effect, Catholicism is becoming more catholic with all the growing pains and confusion such expansion entails. The "in" words these days among Catholic theologians are con-textualization and inculturation, that is, how to take the basic insights of the Catholic tradition, translate and then transplaht them in the different soil of the developing, non-Western world. Contextualization and inculturation are well under way. New vari-eties of Catholicism are emerging that are making the Catholic community, locally and globally, a stronger, more credible force. To understand correctly the role Catholicism plays and will play in the social order it is imPerative to look beyond its leaders September-October 1995 687 Cadorette ¯ Catholicism in the Social Order and institutional structures. The heart and soul of Catholicism has been and always will be the people who make up the Catholic community. Today that means hundreds of millions of people in the developing world whose culture, economic values, and polit-ical traditions are vastly different from people in the developed world. In 1979 Karl Rahner, the great Jesuit theologian, tried to assess the significance of Vatican II, a council he helped shape more directly than any other theologian. Rahner recognized that Vatican II, great achievement that it was, really marked the end of the "second age" of the church. In his mind, one of the greatest achievements of the council was the fact that it gave license to non-Western peoples to create new forms of Catholic thought and life consonant with their diverse histories, cultures, and approaches to the sacred. Rahner was convinced that Catholics in the developing world would be able to do new things with their faith that would reen-ergize Catholics in the developed world. Indeed, by the year 2000 almost 70 percent of the world's Catholics will live in the south-ern hemisphere. (In the United States 50 percent of American Catholics will come from so-called minority groups, largely Hispanic and Asian.) This means that Catholicism is about to enter a new "third phase" marked by an unprecedented internal diversity. The globalization of Catholicism is now a fact whose consequences have already altered its internal and external life. New ways of understanding and explaining the Catholic vision have emerged, forever altering theological discourse. Institutional structures, more and more the responsibility of lay women and men, are being recreated. The way the Catholic community responds to its social environment has changed dramatically. In a church made up largely of poor and oppressed people, prophetic challenges to injustice and its corollary, martyrdom, have become commonplace. I want to focus the rest of this article on these changes and what they mean on a deeper level for Catholicism, both internally and as a institution that is part of a global social order. As a postscript we will focus on the American Catholic church and its place in the global scheme of things. Modes of Theologi, cal Discourse Theology was understood in early Christianity as reflective living rather than verbal or written discourse about faith. By the 688 Review for Religiolts third century, however, Christian thinkers were busy devising a sophisticated mode of theological discourse that relied on Hebrew and Christian Scripture as well as classical philosophical language. Isaiah and Jesus, as it were, met Plato and Aristotle. Augustine and Aquinas systematized Christian thought in impressive ways and had a profound impact on Western history. Their theology is structured, logical, deductive, and dualistic. This type of theo-logical discourse has legitimacy, but it also has limitations. Few people can fol-low it other than trained intellectuals and, like all professional languages, it often becomes an end in itself. The problem of Western theological language becomes more acute when non-Western people are involved. Because their cultures and histories are different, Western theology rarely meets their needs. Their faith is strong, but their patience with imported theological discourse is limited. They recognize the difference between the medium and the message and insist on their right to cre-ate theologies that reflect who they are culturally and historically. Perhaps one of the most significant decisions of Vatican II was the. decision to encour-age non-Western Catholics to use their own language and expe-rience to explain their beliefs. This may seem like an innocuous and abstract shift, but it really is quite revolutionary, theologi-cally and politically. Abstract theological language is being replaced by context-specific discourse about faith done by people who confront grinding poverty, injustice, and violence. Suddenly~, theology has become the voice of the voiceless, something it has not been for centuries. It is intellectually and existentially provoca-tive, as well as socially engaged. Since the council grass-roots theological discourse in the developing world has burgeoned. It is now impossible to keep up with the vast amount of theological literature coming out of Latin America, Africa, and Asia. Just as intellectually sophisticated as European and North American material, third world theology nonetheless displays special characteristics, most notably rooted- Perhaps one of the most significant decisions of Vatican II was the decision to encourage non- Western Catholics to use their own language and experience to explain their beliefs. September-October 1995; 689 Cadorette ¯ Catholici~n in the Social Order ness and passion. It draws on many provocative sources--the Hebrew prophets, the Beatitudes, Catholic social teaching, and the day-to-day experience of ordinary people. It is contextualized intense reflection on how faith can help transform society. This new theology, often called liberation theology, is no threat to the integrity of Catholicism. To the contrary, it is a vital component in its survival. It enriches an ancient tradition with a new vocab-ulary and point of reference. As Gustavo Gutidrrez has put it, liberation theology is dis-course on Christian faith done from "the underside of history," a part of the world inhabited by most Catholics, past and present,l Indigenous Catholics in the Andes are beginning to create a the-ology that speaks of their great reverence for the earth, the Pachamaraa, a symbol which speaks of the feminine side of God and the sacredness of the earth as the common womb of life. Korean Christians have incorporated concepts like ban, or trauma-induced anger, and minjung, a word that connotes the spirit and genius of the poor and oppressed, into their theological writing and liturgical life.2 These are signs of energy that instill hope. Western theology will not disappear, but in the third millennium it will be seen as part of a larger whole, one vocabulary and set of images among many. More important is the fact that Catholic theology now reflects the experience of people heretofore over-looked and victimized. Their history and hope are thus kept alive in a social order that often disregards and even kills them. Ecclesial Evolution and Political Society Not only will theological discourse be different in third-mil-lennium Catholicism, community structures and leadership will be too. As peoples create their own varieties of Catholicism they will construct new types of community. For centuries, most Catholics have thought of Catholicism as something that flowed from the top down--from pope, to bishop, to pastor, to parishioner. This model, however, is beginning to change. For more and more peo-ple in both the developing and developed world, Catholic iden-tity is not something conferred by infant baptism, but rather something a person acquires as an adult who enters a believing community, assimilates the tradition, and begins to see him- or herself as part of a larger Catholic whole. Today base communi-ties and even large parishes are made up of people whose self- 690 Review for Religious understanding as Catholic is more intense and articulate. Engagement within the community and the community's rela-tionship to the larger social whole are therefore more focused and consequential. Catholic identity, defying the laws of history and hierarchy, increasingly flows from the bottom up, changing the self-under-standing of the church and its social role. In many parts of the developing world, the Christian community is a real political force. Committed to an incarnational spirituality which insists that God is present in history and nature, members of base com-munities struggle for justice and social transformation in soci-eties scarred by violence and oppression. The Christian churches in South Africa were at the front of the struggle against apartheid struggle. In Haiti base communities provided refuge for the per-secuted and food for the hungry despite military repression. Precisely for this reason, of course, prophetic individuals and committed communities have faced the wrath of the mighty who often brand them as subversive. The label, in fact, is correct since Christianity lived well is subversive. What is really remarkable, however, is the depth and commitment of many Catholic Christians who are willing to risk their lives for their faith and the world they live in. Saints and martyrs abound in contemporary Catholicism. Most of these saints and martyrs are ordinary, name-less people, and that frequently overlooked fact may be the most important political datum in the history of contemporary Catholicism. Their sanctity was gained in Catholic communities intent on doing justice and transforming history. Spirituality As a central part of a person's identity rather than a religio-cultural label, Catholicism serves as a vision or spirituality that helps people achieve a more integral and respectful understand-ing of their own selves as well as a more engaged and positive relationship with the larger world. The incarnation, as central Christian symbol, speaks of God's love and commitment to all human beings, women and men with particular languages and cultures. This symbol validates their specificity. In a world marked by a violent preiudice against the other as inferior by dint of race, class, gender, and culture, the incarnation is both an indictment of such violence and a call for transformation in the institutional Septentber-October 1995 691 Cadorette ¯ Catholicism in the Social Order church and in society. Despite the fact that millions of human beings are deemed nonpersons by oppressive economic and polit-ical systems, a truly Catholic spirituality insists that each of them is a gift because of the incarnate God it believes in. It denounces injustice and makes justice real by accepting these people in all their specificity. Liberating spirituality is not developed abstractly but rather in a living community that is dialectically engaged with the larger world. Base communities address people's brokenness and chal-lenge their members to transform those economic and political forces that oppress them. Much of liberation spirituality revolves around the central symbol in Jesus' life and mission, the reign of God. As contemporary scripture scholars have pointed out, Jesus understood God's reign concretely. It was not a future event or abstraction for him, but something he saw happening in first-century Palestine. Even today, when a broken person is healed, when a community celebrates Eucharist in the midst of oppres-sion, or when a believing community helps bring about even mod-est social change, we see signs of God's reign transforming history. Spirituality is really a synonym for visionary political holiness.3 As the poor and oppressed begin to understand themselves as graced, an insight that oppressive social systems try to deny them, they have a powerful impact on their social environment. Great tech-nical skill is required to transform society. Social technology alone, however, is mute and unappealing. It requires a human voice and poetic imagination. A spirituality aimed at integral justice must also include stories, song, and dance--lessons people in the devel-oping world teach eloquently through their spirituality. Beauty is as much an antidote to iniustice as economic and political plan-ning. It is an unequivocal no to deforming violence. Given its multicultural makeup, contemporary Catholicism can play a vital role in forging a liberating spirituality. By affirming the beauty of many people it can be a living embodiment of political holiness. A U.S. Catholic Postscript The history of Catholicism in the United States is a fasci-nating story of disenfranchised immigrants coming to life, By hanging on to and affirming their religious identity, Irish, German, Polish, and Hispanic immigrants managed to gain a foothold in a largely Protestant society and eventually make a significant con- 692 Review for Religious tribution to the United States. Their success would not have been possible without parochial schools and neighborhood parishes. By the 1960s American Catholics were part of the mainstream, and the United States was the better for it. As full members of the middle class, however, United States Catholics run the risk of forgetting that they were once the "other" and forgetting the "other" in their midst. Luckily, the American Catholic church is not static. New Hispanic, African, and Asian Catholics are mak-ing the American church more diverse than ever before. Many of these groups are poor and politically powerless. Their experi-ence of oppression cannot be overlooked. If Catholics cannot understand and defend their fellow Catholics, then what good is American Catholicism? Middle-class Catholics cannot hide in suburban parishes and satisfy themselves with a type of "Catholicized" civil religion. In a country separated by racial and class divisions, they are called to exemplify inclusion and real justice, virtues that are central to Catholicism and a democratic political system. Given their place in the world, American Catholics also have to remind themselves that they have "made it" in an empire and that this empire unfortu-nately is responsible for a great deal of suffering in the world. They need to keep in mind that their tax dollars have trained third-world dictators in the School of the Americas, some of whom have murdered committed Catholics and non-Catholics in the developing world, and even American missionaries. They need to tell themselves that as people with voice and vote they can do something about their country's foreign and domestic policy. American Catholics have to raise hard, responsible questions about national policy and the way we wield our enormous might. That is a right and obligation American Catholics have towards their fellow Catholics and their country. Real patriotism requires responsible th6ught about our national and international policy--something Dorothy Day, Thomas Merton, and more recently the American bishops have said with eloquence. Many political analysts have pointed out that Middle-class Catholics cannot hide in suburban parishes and satisfy themselves with a type of "Catholicized" civil religion. September-October 199~ 693' Cadorette ¯ Catbolicis~t in the Social Order we are in the midst of a deep national crisis. We need people of vision, men and women with a deep spirituality and commitment to the public realm, to find our way out of the cul-de-sac we find" ourselves in. Squabbles between liberals and conservatives have become meaningless. We need people with vision and integrity who defy political categories. American Catholics can make a sig-nificant contribution in political discussion as representatives of an American Christian denomination that embraces more social classes and races than any other and a religious community of global proportions. The pluralism of American Catholicism is its greatest asset. It has much to contribute to the debate about who we are as a nation and our role in the international arena. The Catholic community does not have all the answers nor does it pretend to, but it is hardly shy on experience, wisdom, or com-mitted people. If it can live up to its own vision and be truly inclu-sive, just, and joyful it will have made an enormous contribution to the body politic. Of course, inclusion, justice, and joy do not rain down from the heavens. They require work which heaven asks of American Catholics. There are those, of course, who do not welcome a Catholic voice or presence in the social order. Often, they are working with an erroneous understanding of what Catholicism is, rooted in a misunderstanding of what Catholicism was. As new types of Catholicism come to the fore, this prejudice hopefully will decrease. There are more astute and hostile people, however, who oppose Catholicism not for what it was, but for what it is. They recognize the subversive potential of a religious tradition based on the incarnation and universality of grace. The Catholic vision, lived deeply, threaten~ their economic and political interests. Ironically, some of Catholicism's most implacable foes call them-selves Catholics, as recent events in Latin American tragically demonstrate. One can only hope that the example of people like Oscar Romero, Dorothy Day, Ita Ford and Maura Clark will call these people to conversibn, for their own sake, that of the Catholic community, and the world at large. We must keep telling our-selves that there is ground for hope, that our religious traditions, the liberties made real by the Enlightenment, responsible sci-ence, and homespun genius can lead us out of our current quandary. The social order can and must be transformed. The question we must ask ourselves is what role we will play in its transformation. Can we and will we respond to that powerful 694 Review for Religious spirit of liberation at play in our world or will we resist it? The answer to that question is enormously consequential for each of us as individuals and for the world we all inhabit. Notes ~ Gustavo Gutierrez, The Power of the Poor in History, trans. Robert R. Barr (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1983). 2 Chung Hyun Kyung, Struggle to Be the Sun Again: Introducing Asian Women's Theology (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1990), pp. 53-73. 3 Pedro Casaldfiliga and Jos~ Maria Vigil, Political Holiness: A Spirituality of Liberation, trans, paul Burns and Francis McDonough (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1994). Listen! Listen to your life. Listen and be still. Listen to the endless fall of endless silence. Listen with the ears of the sentinel alert to the sounds of the night. Listen to the years cresting over forgotten days, soundless, breaking infinitely slow. Do not speak. Gather together your life, and let time well slowly up from your depths and collect it as you might spring water in a cool dipper. Thomas More Page CFX September-October 1995 695 RICHARD J. HAUSER Finding God in Daily Life: Ignatian Spirituality's Heart The Jesuit poet Gerard Manley Hopkins calls attention to a fact of all created being in his "kingfishers" sonnet: Each mortal thing does one thing and the same: Deals out that being indoors each one dwells; Selves--goes itself; myself it speaks and spells, Crying I, Vhdt I dd is me:for that I came. Every created being is endowed by God with an inner nature and ac.ts accordingly--"selves"; in this it glorifies its Creator. And so with us human beings. We are endowed by God with a specific nature, indeed with the very image and likeness of God. Further we have been given God's own Spirit to assist us in expressing our inner being--the same Spirit that guided Jesus. But, unlike our fellow crea-tures, we humans need not always act according to our deepest selves. We alone of all creatures are given the choice of whether or not to follow the laws of our inner being. And so in his Spiritual Exercises Ignatius of Loyola gives us guidelines for recognizing God's movements within our hearts. He calls them Rules for the Discernment of Spirits. For Ignatius discernment is sim-ply the art of listening to our inner selves and learning to recognize (discern) movements that arise from the Holy Richard J. Hauser SJ is director of the graduate programs in theology, ministry, and spirituality at Creighton University. A comprehensive treatment of his thought on discernment can be found in his book Moving in the Spirit: Becoming a Contemplative in Action (Paulist Press, 1986). His address is Creighton University; 2500 California Street; Omaha, Nebraska 68178. 696 Review for Religious Spirit (our true selves) from those which do not. Traditionally the skill is called discernment of spi

Issue 41.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1982. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1982 by REVIEW FOR REI.~G~OOS. Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year: $17.00 for two years. Other countries: $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW FOR REt,IGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor Jan./ Feb., 1982 Volume 41 Number 1 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW I"OR RE~.IGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 541h St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints shoul.d be ordered from Rt:v,Ew Vo8 RE~oIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindetl Blvd.; St. L~uis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Review for Religious Volume 41, 1982 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis, Missouri 63108 Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Miss Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is published in January, March, May, July, Sep-tember, and November on the fifteenth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Microfilms International; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright © 1982 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. The Art of Wasting Time: Thoughts on the Expropriation of Leisure James W. Heisig Father Heisig, of the Society of the Divine Word, is a Permanent Fellow of the Nanzan Institute for Religion and Culture, General editor of its book series on East-West thought and Associate Professor of Humanities at the Nan:an University. His address: Nan:an Institute for Religion and Culture: 18, Yamazato-cho. Showa-ku: Nagoya, Japan'. In modern industrialized nations, time is thought of as an investment commodity with a fluid market value. The power of time to cure all ills that the ancient Greek proverb celebrated has been drained from it to reduce time to disposable mer-chandise within our control. Some people's time is now worth more than other people's time because they know how to use time .profitably, that is, to achieve maximum production with minimum consumption. The ideal management of time is measured by cost-benefit analysis. As a consumer commodity, time is also unevenly distributed: some people now possess more time than others, which they are free to invest wisely or foolishly. It does not take much reflection to appreciate how the metaphor of "annual income,"the most Oniversal measure of the relative value of time, has crept its way into the modern imagination and laden words once rich in personal meanings with the double entendre of economic connotations. And that is as true in the world of business as it is in the world of religious or humanitarian devotion to an ideal. We hear it said that the fund~.mental shock occasioned by the increased pace of modei'n living is that shorter and shorter periods of time enable us to achieve the same things that former civilizations took much longer to achieve, which in turn produces the need for constant novelty. In fact, we do notachieve the same things at all. By submitting time and human needs to new s.tandards, the quality of life 3 4 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 itself has been altered and important spiritual values siphoned off as waste. The trip across the Sinai that took the ancient Israelites forty years to complete would hardly take forty minu~tes today from t~ikeoff to landing. But whereas their voyage was a.journey that transformed a band of refugees into a people of God, ours is reduced to a mere change of location that takes place too quickly to effect any but the most superficial of insights. For us, time wasted in travel, in the use of outmoded tools, and in the inefficient use of resources and personnel is money flushed down the drain. On the one hand, time well spent promises the reward of time to spare; but on the other, the time that we have saved is only of value if it, too, is well spent. The result is that leisure has become a luxury item, with less to be found among workers today than there was among the slaves of ancient Greece and Rome. In such circUmstances, it has become easy to market time-measuring devices for popular use that approximate the precision of scientific equipment. A wrist-watch that takes time to wind and has to be reset once a week is an anachronism to the modern mind. The practical advantages of such accuracy are fictitious, but the ideological advantage is very real. We are so firmly locked into the modern myth of time that the thought of unclocking oneself, even for the purposes of relaxation, has become the moral equivalent of undressing in public. The idea of time that has colonized the habits of thought that gird the institu-tions of modem society--school, church, business, entertainment, travel, health care, politics, social action--has wrought a spiritual impoverishment on our native sensibilities. The reverence for free time Freizeit and leave from labor (leisure) has not disappeared, but its motivations have shifted. The important wisdom that time belongs among the "best thing~ of life" that cannot be bought and sold, that belong to all of us as our common human right, and that are their own reward, is in peril. The expropriation of leisure by the consumer ethos is one of the most harmful ideas that pollute modern consciousness and obstruct the construction of an equitable and sustainable global community. Instead of having time for oneself, time for the earth, and time for the human race, we have become content with having time to consume the goods and services manufactured in other sectors of society. We have come to think of time as a nonrenewable resource, and lost the art of wasting it lavishly for our spiritual well-being. Deliverance from this state of affairs begins with learning to make transparent the myth of time that we inhabit unawares. And onestep in that direction, it seems to me, is to have a look at some of the things we no longer seem to have much time for. Time for Oneself The story is told of a certain clergyman who went to see the famous psycholo-gist, C. G. Jung, complaining of an impending nervous breakdown. His story was a familiar one. Working fourteen hours a day to fill up his life of service with meaning, he found only a spiritual tiollowness to his work. The harder he worked, the more tasks he took on, the more his nerves stood on end, threatening at any moment to shatter through the fragile mask of the busy pastor and expose his The Art of Wasting Time hypocrisy. 3ung's advice was simplicity itself; he was to work a mere eight-hour day, go home and spent his evenings quietly in his study alone. Unconvinced of the wisdom of .lung's counsel, but sufficiently agonized to have no other recourse, the man made up his mind to follow the prescription to the letter. He worked his eight hours, returned to the parish house for supper, then retired behind the closed doors of his study for the rest of the evening. Some time later he returned to see .lung, reporting that, alas, the remedy had been a complete failure. Spiritually he was worse off than before, and the parish had fallen into disarray for want of attention. He had done everything just as he had been told, but to no avail. "What did you do in your study?" Jung asked. "Well, let's see, the first night I finished a Herman Hesse novel and listened to some Chopin l~tu~les. After that I read some Thomas Mann and listened to a Mozart sonata. Next I . . ." "But you didn't understand," .lung broke in. "I didn't want you to spend your time reading novels and listening to music. I wanted you to be alone with yourself.""Oh, but 1 couldn't stand it. i make such bad company," the pastor replied. "Aha! Now we see the problem," said .lung. "That very self that you can't stand for even a short period is the same self you have been inflicting on others for fourteen hours a day.~ The pastor's problem and the way he set out trying to cure it both belong to a level of cultural development that can only be called elite. The freedom to opt for a fourteen:l~our work day and drive oneself to psychological tatters, and then to reduce one's time of labor by 40% for the sake of spiritual hygiene; the possibility of consulting a professional therapist and paying for the service; the ability to read classic literature and appreciate classical music--all of these things belong to a style of life unthinkable to the great masses of humanity, who do not work for ends supererogatory to survival that can be dispensed with when body or soul collapses, but work to keep alive, and great numbers of them successfully. I do not mean to imply that the man's problem was not a real one, or that it should be classified, along with cosmetic surgery and Caribbean cruises, as needs bred of boredom or surfeit. I mean only that, like all spiritual problems, its roots reach over into problematic social structures as well, whose repair requires more attention to one's own soul. Of this, more shall be said later. What 'lung showed the pastor about himself, and what many of those who share his general cultural field can readily identify with, is that people will often go to extraordinary lengths to avoid having to look at themselves without a role to play. The crises of meaninglessness.that had attacked his work spread over into his leisure because of a common fundamental bias that value can only be generated by keeping busy at a socially acceptable task. In each case, he fled what he feared would do him more harm than anything else: his deep dislike of himself. In his work, the pretense of altruism threw up a thick smoke screen, almost as if deliber-ately to cloud the problem; and in his leisure the pretense of polishing up his education protected and reinforced the hollow ideals he could never quite recog-nize as his own. "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." Before one embraces those words as a commanded task, they need first to be accepted as a statement of fact: like it or not, one cannot love another if one does not first love oneself. And 6 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 there is no way to love oneself if one does everything possible to avoid spending time with oneself. The pastor's abuse of leisure meant that leisure was not a freeing time but an enslaving time. Instead of serving as a re-creational balance to the creativity of his work, it bound him more firmly to the estrangement he felt between his own innermost beliefs and his outward devotedness. The proper use of leisure, on the other hand, demands the capacity to turn solitariness into solitude, not to dread it as a mere isolation from things that have value. If there are human values that daily life and work sterilize conscience against, and if those values are truly the eradicable imprint of the divine on the soul of each individual, then the deliverance of the human from the inhumanity of which it is capable begins with a transforma-tion in perspective metanoia towards oneself. And that takes time, leisure time. To be denied that time to waste on oneself, or to deny it to oneself, is to forsake redemption from the common habits of evil that we all participate in unawares. Time for the Earth A second dimension on which our~modern myth of time has expropriated the functions of leisure is that of our relationship to nature. In order to get to the core of this problem, 1 should like to cite a story from the Inner Chapters bf Chuang- Tzu, the Chinese mystic and Taoist philosopher of the fourth century before the Christian era. It is a story about a certain master carpenter named Stone and his apprentice, and how they happened one day to encounter the truth about worth-less trees. It seems that on one of their voyages the two chanced to pass by a gigantic oak tree standing by a local village shrine. The young apprentice stopped short and stood aghast with awe at the towering majesty of the tree, whose trunk he thought must measure a hundred spans in girth, and whose branches were so immense that at least ten of them he reckoned could surely be carved into boats. But the master Stone just stalked off ahead without so much as giving the tree a second glance. Catching him up, the apprentice inquired of him why a carpenter should pass up such timber, more splendid than any he had seen since taking up his axe. "Stop!" the master rebuked him. "The tree is useless. A boat made from it would sink, a coffin would soon rot, a tool would split, a door would ooze sap, and a beam would have termites. It is worthless timber and is of no use. That is why it has reached such a ripe old age." That night the oak,tree appeared to the carpenter Stone in a dream and complained of being compared with useful trees that are stripped and pruned and robbed of their fruits or cut down in their prime because they attract the attentions of the common world. "As for me, I have been trying for a long time to be useless. I was almost destroyed several times, Finally I am useless, and this is very useful to me. if I had been useful, could 1 have.ever grown so large? Besides, you and I are both things. How can one thing judge another thing? What does a dying and worthless man like you know about a worthless tree?" The next day, when the °The Art of Wasting Time apprentice heard of the dream, he was puzzled. "If it had so great a desire to be useless, why does it serve as a shrine?" This time the master took up. the cause of the tree. "It is just pretending to be one so that it will not be hurt by those who do not know that it is useless. If it had not been a sacred tree, it would probably have been cut down. It protects itself in a different way from ordinary things. We will miss the point if we judge it in the ordinary way." Let us say the carpenter Stone, with his "ordinary way" of looking at things, is a type of technological men and women whose tools have so eclipsed their direct contact with nature that they can no longer revere the world except as something "useful" for their equipment. As the tree reminds the carpenter in his dream, however, there are values that go beyond the useful, beyond the values that civilizations assign to things when they judge them to be worth our "while." These values reach deep beneath the differences that separate the human from the rest of the earth, to the point of geocentric unity that was broken with the anthropocent-ric revolt against being merely a thing among other things. They reach beyond the divisions of means and ends into which people classify everything about them. Insight into such values begins with learning t9 listen to the earth, something whose importance we are only now rediscovering after a century of industrial progress. Even so, we have the greatest of difficulty in unplugging ourselves from the apparatus we have built to mediate our way to nature. The world is still viewed by and large as raw material for human civilization. We struggle to keep our environment free of pollution because we fear the spread of disease among people and the poisoning of our food. We lobby against the mindless pillage of forests because we fear the effects of soil erosion on our buildings and landscaping. We protect the wilderness because we need somewhere to "get away from it all." These are reasons that make sense to a civilized mind, but do not satisfy it quite yet. We still want more sense than that. Increasing numbers (especially those for whom there is no economic danger involved) are finding it therapeutic to sympathize with the plight of species endangered by hunting or the destruction of natural habitats. Others are relearning to use the tools that scientific advance had thought to render into museum pieces. Something like a spirituality of the earth is coming to birth, but its douleurs d'enfantement are spasmodic and uncomfortable in the extreme. Perhaps the major reason that the developed industrial nations of the world do not yet have time for the earth is that their livelihood depends on a world frag-mented according to its utility for tools, and on a work force of specialists who literally feed off of one or the other fragment. The kit of tools that provides us with our ordinary way of looking at the earth functions not only because it represents a considerable extension of the power of the human body--legs into automobiles, voices into radio waves, eyes into telescopes, arms into cranes, and so forth, in the great caricature that humanity has made of its own image--but also because it succeeds in devaluing any other way of looking at life and work. While this has made impressive leaps in scientific and technical progress possi-ble, it has also taken its toll on the human spirit in the form of a massive addiction I~ / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 to packaged, processed experiences of the earth. We seek respite from the drudgery of working at our own specialized task only to find ourselves consuming the product of someone else's specialization. The woman who sits from morning to night on an assembly line at a canning factory learns to put up with the boredom and servility of her labor by concentrating on the privileges it will give her through the money she earns. Come vacation time, she happily skips into a great steel can sealed in Los Angeles and opened in Hawaii, clutching her five-nights-six-days-cut- rate-holiday plan around which she has organized her hopesof regaining some of the dignity she had to forfeit in order to afford the trip in the first place. She may well spend her whole life without noticing 'that she is being sold on the earth in entertainment-packages by an industry that depends on people not being able to experience the beauties and pleasures of nature without their help. Such contact with nature, far from helping one to recover the basic human demand for creativity and meaning in work, only reinforces the same feelings of impotence, ignorance, and strangeness in the face of the complex machinery and bureaucracy that has come between people and the earth. From the point of view of those who have forgotten that demand, such time may be considered very well spent, very useful, and very recreational. But it is not the freeing time of leisure because it does not so much as waste a moment on trying to step outside the ordinary way of looking at the earth, to see nature once again from the inside as it were, as something valuable in itself. Time for the Human Race In addition to the estrangement from oneself and estrangement from the earth, there is a third dimension on which our myth of time has expropriated the dower of wasted time, namely estrangement from our own race. We who compose essays on electric typewriters and subscribe to journals on the spiritual life tend to forget that the technology we take for granted is still experienced as an oppression by the vast majority of human beings. Consciously it is felt as the oppression of neglect at the hands of those who dwell in the economic penthouses of the global commun-ity. Unconsciously it is felt as the oppression of envy for the equipment and the life style of affluence and the accompanying disgust with their own primitive enjoy-ments. For all the commonsense wisdom contained in the counsel that money cannot buy happiness, and that more often than not it only multiplies the possibili-ties for unhappiness, both the rich of the earth and the poor are agreed that it is a misery they would prefer risking. The consumer ethos that pervades and sustains a high level of technology at the top of the human pyramid also pervades and sustains the grotesque want under which most of our kind are forced to live. - By far the greatest part of the human community has no opportunity for employing the technological tools that are now transforming the fac~ of the planet, and in many cases do not even know that they exist. Those who use jet transporta-tion are an absolute aristocracy; for every one of them there are several thousands who have never ridden a bicycle. The number of illiterates in the world still far The Art of Wasting 7~me / 9 outnumbers the number of those who even own radios; and the number of people who own television sets is far lower than the number of those whose annual income does not reach the cost of a television. The rest of humanity, for which individuals in the developed world have no time, have fallen into conditions made more difficult to escape by the surfeit that one small portion of the world enjoys. At the base of the human pyramid there are ~hundreds of millions living on the borderlands of vegetation and death, which in turn belongs to a group of nearly one billion people whom we have now come to speak of as the fourth world. Above them is the third world, over half of which lives in a poverty they have no hope of remedying, yet a poverty tortured by the knowledge that some of the race spend their lives struggling to acquire still greater surpluses of luxury, and to glut themselves with still more of the already maldis-tributed fruits of the earth. Those who are born and bred in life at the top of the pyramid have little practical feeling for the current inhumanity that is ravaging most of the race. They find it easier to imagine science-fictional futures than to imagine the present reality, let alone to image their own complicity in the way things are. They may watch documentaries about starvation in Africa or floods in Asia, but fail to make any connection when they book passage the next day for a tour in the Yucatfin. Or perhaps better, they have allowed their.questions to be silenced by the whole tangle of government and economic organizations that constantly complain of how com-plicated everything is. They may know that the budget of New York State, with its twelve million people, exceeds that of India with its six hundred million, and perhaps even permit themselves a sigh of pity; but they entrust the sorting out of injustices to the experts who have been trained to worry about such things. All the privileged of the earth know for sure is. that they have no objection to others sharing in their style of life, provided it does not make any demands on theirown appetities. Clearly, this is not enough. Within a generation we shall have six billion people on the earth, with five billion of them living in poverty. The tactic of indifference, which amounts to a war of the few against the many, kills and dehumanizes more effectively than any weapon we have yet dared to use. But it is running out of time. As the poor arm themselves with the surplus of our .stockpiles, sold off cheaply to make way for more advanced weaponry, we cannot suppose that they will forever remain content with waging war among themselves. The smaller and more concen-trated the centers of wealth become throughout the world, the more vulnerable they become to the masses of those who have been trained to be jealous of what others are free to consume. The urgency of the situation, however, is not of itself enough to guarantee the quality of any and every attempt to alleviate it. Just as time for the self and time for the earth tend to get absorbed without remainder into time for the consumption of luxuries advertised as refreshment from working time, so time for the human race all too readily gets twisted into the donation of services that perpetuate the spirit-ual impoverishment of the technological world by camouflaging it behind an 10 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 idiom of charity. Those who are touched with a sense of pity for the maldistribu-tion of wealth and feel the pressure to help, all too frequefitly lack the requisite insight into their own patterns of thought to realize how their aid can amount to the substitution of one form of dehumanization for another. In providing hospi-tals, schools, factories, and modern transport for the underprivileged (that is, for those denied the right to consume culture as we consume it), the donor organiza-tions narrow their responsibilities down tc~ the unilaterial sharing of goods and values. The possibility that alternate social systems, now' rendered obsolete, unproductive, and unsustainable by the current management of the world's resources, may have something to, teach the human community about liberation from the consumer ethos is pushed to one side in the rush to make amends for gluttony overcome with guilt in the face of deprivation. I1: the price of providing bread for the world is further investment in the current means of producing and distributing bread, then bread for the world there will never be. The economics of this are fairly intricate, but the direct ratio th~it obtains between the number of people who are starving to death and the increased number of organizations and agencies aimed at distributive justice is plain enough to see. A leisure that is freeing for the human race is not simply time given free of cost by the haves to the have-nots, but a time for withdrawal from the ruling myth of time. It must, in the first pla~e, be a waste of tilne altogether free of investments economic or ideological, time wasted on the whole of the race, ourselves included. Of all the forms of leisure, this is the one that has become most radically enslaved to the biases of working time, despite the way in which improved means of communication have enabled an altogether new image of the universal h~]man family. There may be no greater constriction of.the imagination in the history of human thought about world order than that of the present day face-off in devel-oped industrial nations between the philanthropic illusion of the rich nations of the world opening their storehouses to share with the poor on the one hand, and the financial illusion of increasing productivity to the point of being able to sell more goods more cheaply without monetary loss on the other. And this, too, is a mark of grave spiritual immaturity. The Reappropriation of Leisure If I have left a good deal in the previous pages to innuendo and only hints of an explanation of how leisure time has become victimized by the spread of consumer metaphors, it was not only to condense a manifold problem into a few words, but also to prepare for what 1 wish to propose by way of conclusion. Simply put, it comes to this: that only the personal awakening of increasing numbers of individ-uals to the considerable loss sustained by civilization in its forward march into technology can provide the footings for a modern spirituality, and that only the redemption of leisure time from its servility to current structures of thought can provide the conditions for such awakening. The reappropriation of the need for leisure--an unadvertised, unprofitable, and withal revolutionary need--begins with the individual or it does not begin at all. No one can stand l~roxy for another's The Art of Wasting Time spiritual conversion. No expertise can service a society with personal insight, judgment, and decision. For it is not so much concession to the logic of particular conclusions that is the point, but the recovery of the process of working one's own way out of familiar biases. This process hinges on the art of wasting time. In the first place, leisure time should nurture a spirit of resistance to the humors of resignation that poison the bloodstream of industrial society. It should increase one's resistance to the workaday bias that the submission and trust due divine providence, for having cast us into a world with hopes in our hearts too big for our abilities, should be extended into a submission and trust in social provi-dence, for having spun a web of institutions so tightly about us that we are powerless to do much more than lay a hand across our inquisitive mouths and adjust as best we can. From the point of view of the world of time where work gets done, free time that results in raising basic questions about that world is not only wasted time, it is counterproductive. No doubt a life in which leisure means nothing but filling up with comforts and entertainments the hollow gouged out of the soul by resignation to the complexities of modern life is an ideal few, if any, would Openly champion. But the fact is, the bare physical need for periodic reinvigoration always has a spiritual dimension to it as well, and in industrial society that spiritual dimension tends to vacillate between the reinforcement of patterns of passive consumption of relaxation and spare-time thoughts about better pay, shorter hours, or increased benefits. In either case, it remains subser-vient to the structures of work and effectively concedes defeat to their power. It lacks re-creativity. This is the idolatry, of epidemic proportions, that afflicts the spirituality of technological society. Second, in order to offer this sort of recreational resistance to the spirit of resignation, time wasted in leisure should be an abandon to the spirit of playful-ness. I use that word in a broader sense than either the games of children or the athletics of adults to cover not only the labor of alternative activities but also the enjoyments of repose; and in a narrower sense than sleep or intoxication on the one hand, moonlighting or profit-making hobbies on the other. The playfulness of leisure has three facets. The first of these is the imagination of possible futures in which we might be free of the oppressions of the present. If such futures are truly' possible, that is, if they are able to emerge out of the existing world by a rearrange-ment of its priorities, then their entertainment in imagination is capable of being sustained and deepened from one period of leisure to the next. This in contrast to the scattered daydreams of wishful thinking that come and go for all of us without effort or lasting impression. That is, such images can accumulate sufficient form in time to lead to the commitment to some preferable future from among the possi-bilities~ To experience such a reorganization of hope in playfulness is to experience the genesis of an ideal within oneself. Not to experience it is to keep leisure locked up in itself. And finally, there is the transition from the possible and the preferable to the enjoyment of the future in the present. This is where most people are best at wasting time, even though they may not know what they are doing. It consists in the construction of a temporary utopia about oneself where the things one values 12 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 most can be savored. It is a timefor tasting ideals of companionship without strife, pleasure without labor, crafmanship without pressure, play without punishment. The reigning fear among those who wish to protect their leisure time from being absorbed by spiritual or intellectual recollection is that too much reflection inhibits enjoyment. And to be sure, there are those whose twisted sense of asceticism drives them from one cause to the other, volunteering their services and neglecting the wisdom that comes from having a good, wasted time. At the other extreme, enjoyment cut off from reflection about the future altogether quickly shrivels up into a mere pampering of a self exhausted by labor, with the result that it becomes less and less enjoyable and more and more like the pure passivity of sleep. Some-where between the two lies the art of celebrating a world that is not but might be for a while, a world filled up with the spirit of playfulness. Third, leisure should help foster a spirit of survival in the midst of this by no means best of all possible worlds. Just as the struggle for physical survival requires ingenuity in using available resources and at the same time remaining alert to the opportunities for deliverance if and when they present themselves, so too with the struggle for spiritual survival. It requires anger against avoidable evils, sensitivity to appropriate solutions in which one's anger may be expressed, and the capacity to wait without exploding from within or being sapped of one's energies from without. One may have to buy chemically treated food because fresh produce has been priced beyond one's budget; one may have to drive an automobile to work because public transport systems have become an economic deficit to the com-munity; one may have to put up with menial labor because one's skills are not in demand; one may have to swallow large doses of injustice, stupidity, and callous-ness. But one does not have to pretend to like it or allow it to embitter enjoyment. Survival means wedding a resistance to resignation with a love of playfulness so as to forfeit neither the gusts nor the disgusts of life. Fourthly, leisure needs to infuse a spirit of the sacred into the time that we waste. When the ritual, beliefs, and holy writ of a religious tradition become fettered to the myth of consumer time, they forsake their sacredness. When they cease to cut like a. two-edged sword that denounces sinfulness and announces goodness, they dull and profane their capactiy of re-creation. At the same time, when they provide mere divertissement from the trials of working life or serve only as platforms for supporting the flood of causes that wash through the mass media with the regularity of spring and autumn fashions, they betray their meaning. Sacred time is not an investment measured in loss and profit to the current problems of a civilization. It is a necessity--the necessity to hallow the self, the earth, and the human race as a single great gift beyond all desert. It insures that, whatever of practical use may come out of time wasted in leisure, it is the wasting that is holiest. Sacred time unplugs us from our own time and opens up a horizon of all time, against which the greatest sin appears as the desire for absolute control and the greatest goodness as the grace of being absolutely loved. All of us, every soul of us on earth, breathe the myths of our civilization as inevitably as we breathe the air .that surrounds us. They are transparent, taken for The Art of Wasting l~me / 13 granted, but essential for human .life. Leisure time is like a flute that transforms.the silent secrets in the air into music. It shows us the harmonies and the cacophanies, the purity and the pollution of our myths. Without leisure, we have no way to know the air about us, no way to love back the One who made us the,mythmaking animals we are. View From Behind Tapestries look like battlefields from the back. Threads like soldiers in hand to hand combat-- who is most resilient? Arms locked, elbows out, clenched fists of knot scattered like small skirmishes across the expanse. Who is most flexible? Stitches quarrel in overbearing voice, rush to trenches, maintain positions. Colors invade each other's territory, singing violent victories of light. All clamor, all struggle, It faces the wall of faith while the weaver and the watcher . work from the front. St. Anne Higgins, D.C. 123 Franklin St., Petersburg, VA 23803 Celibacy in Africa Matungulu Otene, S.J. Zaire's Father Otene, ordained in 1977, is presently working in St. Peter and Paul parish: B.P. 1125: Lubumbashi: Zaire. This article is excerpted from the booklet. "C~libat Consacr~ pour une Afrique assoiff~: de F~:conditi:," published by Editions Saint-Paul Afrique, P.O. Box 8505; Kinshasa, which was translated into English by Louis C. Plamondon. S.J.: Manresa; Box 47154; Nairobi; Kenya. In English, it is no. 65 of the Spearhead series, "Celibacy and the African Value of Fecundity," published by Gaba Publications: P.O. Box 908: Eldoret: Kenya, which graciously granted permission for our use. ~f the reason for Christian celibacy is unique, that is, for Jesus Christ and his kingdom, every Christian called to this type of life is also called to live out this experience in the context of his own culture and personal history. An African celibate today is not celibate in exactly the same way as an Indian of today, even if both are celibate for the sake of Jesus Christ and his kingdom. There is a whole world of emotions and affectivity which permeates our celibacy very deeply. This is so true that the world we live in affects the objective and subjective content of our celibacy. Both what we hear being said about celibacy and what we experience in our flesh by living out what is said, are rooted emotions. Without this emotive element, there would be no human celibacy in the full sense of the term; conse-quently, there would be no Christian celibacy since the latter is deeply rooted in human nature and since celibacy itself has also to be incarnated. The affective life of a South American--his way of feeling and living celibacy--differs from that of an African from Zaire or Senegal. Among Africans there are a certain number of differences in affectivity. However, even if it must be admitted that within the same people there are different ways of feeling things, this, nevertheless, does not mean that African peoples do not have a greater affinity with one another than with peoples from the West or the East. After all, their cultural heritage is common. This seems evident even if there are shades of meaning or subtle nuances which are hard to express in these few short pages, which do not pretend to be a psycho-so-cial study of human societies. 14 Celibacy in Africa The cultural milieu in which the young African lives has a very great impact on his response to the Lord's call. Celibacy is surely an area in which sensibility is a very important factor, if not the most important. In fact, coming as he does from a family where marriage is viewed in a very special light, the young African will carry in the depths of his being, perhaps through his whole life, the impact of this way of thinking. It will take only a circumstance or an event to awaken in him a whole world of memories accumulated throughout his short life. The fact that his grand-father was polygamous, that his own father had more than one wife, and that his own mother was not the first wife of his father, nor the one preferred, cannot but have significance in his life of celibacy. The mere fact of knowing that in his extended family there is somewhere a cousin with five children, each with a different father, cannot be without significance. Those are his half brothers, but this entails that this good cousin of his.is a husbandless woman with children entirely dependent upon her. To know that his aunt is a prostitute with children, cannot' but have some impact on him. It is no small thing to have a deep sense of all these situations and still, despite all this, to dedicate his life to God in conse-crated celibacy. This world which I have just described briefly cannot be found as such in Europe nor in North or South America, but this is the world that has shaped the young African of whatever black African country he may be. One cannot ignore these realities and pretend that they do not have any influence whatsoever on people. For Africans the child is a reality to be treasured; and each human being does all in his power to leave behind him :some offspring, whether he be married or not married, living the life of a prostitute or of enforced celibacy. All Africans desire to have children, sometimes by any means. The young man who hears the Lord's call is living in this very world and not in any other. His' reflections and ways of thinking are rooted in the environment from which he comes, in the psycho-social milieu which surrounds him. This does not frighten the Lord just as no human milieu frightens him, because it is in such complex situations that he manages to find celibates for his kingdom. Growth in the Life of Celibacy To be sure, other cultures also have their own difficult problems in this area. I am merely showing that our way of experiencing the world has an influence on celibacy and that the cultural traditions are to be taken seriously, but without exaggeration. The young African called to a life of celibacy or religious life will have to integrate progressively within his affective life the realities which surround him without seeking to escape from them. He will do so by looking at them frankly, without panic, in prayer, in his personal relationship with Christ in the Eucharist. God's grace is always there, and this is what gives us confidence in the face of the strong temptations in this life. This young human being will have to understand that since the Incarnation, God gives his grace through weak human beings. Accordingly, to see clearly within his own being, he will have to be open with another person who has the experience of Jesus Christ. The one the Lord will "16 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 put in his path will show him the road to follow and will give him courage in the moment of trial when temptations are strongest. Celibacy requires a lot of disci-pline. He will have to learn to exercise great control over his senses and sometimes to give up things which are innocuous, and to focus on the unique reality which is necessary, Jesus Christ. For certain types of people, chastity can be gained only after a hard fight lasting many years; and this can cause a lot of anxiety when it happens to people who are scrupulous by nature, yet desirous of achieving holiness. What I have just written is not rhetoric. It sometimes happens that young people are torn apart inwardly because they want to dedicate themselves entirely to the Lord but yet cannot completely control certain evil habits or certain attitudes which they find difficult to evangelize. I insist that it is a difficult fight--a fight to death--a fight which moulds a man gradually as he learns bit by bit not to depend upon his own strength but on that of the Lord who has set him apart from his mother's womb to preach his Gospel to men of good will There are less sensitive types of people who do not encounter very many types of problems in their development, but irrespective of their sensitivity, all will undergo moments when they are forced to make a decision for the Lord. The chastity that is required by a life of celibacy is not a case of spontaneous generation--it is a garden that must be tended lest weeds grow in it. When one has gone astray, one finds it difficult, sometimes even impossible, to go back; thus, it is not surprising that some young, generous people have gone astray. Vigilance is necessary in these matters, but the kind of vigilance characteristic of those who are sure of victory; for if Christ is with us, who can be against? Sooner or later Christ will defeat this devil of our middle age who likes to attack our flesh, born in the human condition, born incomplete. The young celibate, therefore, will learn not to abuse God's grace. He will be prudent; he will not take chances with his celibacy. He will have the simplicity of a dove but the prudence of a serpent. The married man who is a dedicated Christian will not flirt with other women lest his marriage, be threatened and, accordingly, his real happiness and that of his home. The same holds true for religious. They also cannot take chances with their passions and put themselves in the position of violating the gift they have made of themselves in the simplicity of their heart. Nothing escapes lay people when it comes to observing the behavior of reli-gious. They notice even the smallest detail when they want to criticize their priests or religious men and women. Some even take pleasure in judging them, in scrutin-izing their behavior to find the smallest reprehensible thing. In this way, they purify their religious, even without wanting to. Lay people are surely not gullible, even though they sometimes misinterpret the way African religious live out their celibacy. They can often distinguish between the religious who is loyal and faithful to his consecration to the Lord from the religious who is beginning to compromise and. to give in. Assuredly, their judgments are not gospel truth, and often one would do well to minimize themremembering that even the great saints were often Slandered by malicious tongues. Celibacy in Africa Certain Difficulties or Certain Illusions It is sad to 'note that many young, generous and seemingly solid religious have lost the grace of celibacy because of supposedly spiritual relationships with women religious and with young girls. There is nothing more dangerous than these suspect relationships between men and women religious, nothing more scandalous for African Christians than to see their priests, their men and women religious become involved in expressions of human love under the pretext of love in Christ.Many men and women religious believe rather too easily that they have been made immune to the weakness of their flesh. They are a little too quick to believe that they have attained the required maturity in celibacy. They sincerely think that henceforth sex has no hold over them since they have become spiritual. Yet, it is a very sad and illusory spirituality which makes man believe that he is now immune to sin. A really spiritual person, on the contrary, depends entirely on the grace of God without giving up healthy vigilance. I believe that the closer one gets to the Lord, the more one realizes that what seemed innocent until then now takes on the appearance of something that is not entirely pure. However, far from being threatened or discouraged by this increasing desire for purity, one has more and more confidence in the Lord and greater humility when one thinks 6f how little one is virtuous. In true love there is no fear. This is so, it seems to me, in the case of one who wants to respond wholeheartedly, day after day, to the call of him who has made us pass from darkness to his wonderful light. In my humble opinion, it often takes many years of solitude to be able to experience a true spiritual friendship in Christ with members of the other sex. The danger is to believe too quickly that the right moment has come. That is often when one goes astray. As for any genuinely Christian life, celibacy cannot go without suffering. There is no real celibacy without the mystery of the cross written, as it were, in the flesh of baptized people. A celibacy without renunciation, without a sacrifice that is willingly accepted, a celibacy which refuses to die like the grain of wheat fallen in the soil is a celibacy locked up in solitude and bearing no lasting fruit. There are people who are undoubtedly privileged because of circum-stances and especially because of the Lord, but let us not be too quick to classify ourselves among those people and risk spoiling the splendid grace the Lord has given to us--the grace of living the celibacy of simple people without any special favors from God, I mean without any extraordinary grace. This simple gift, in fact, honors the Lord just as much as the extraordinary gift that some of us humans might receive from God. I don't mean to say that it is absolutely impossible for men or women religious to experience a healthy spiritual friendship with members of the other sex, but I believe that some of us think that we have attained that stage when we really haven't. Often, because of a lack of restraint or a lack of real self-knowledge, one strikes up a friendship which will tomorrrow become sinful, therefore, bad for oneself and for theirs. A friendship to which we are too attached, a friendship which prevents us from fulfilling our duties is a friendship to be "18 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 purified or, better still to be abandoned while there is time; that is, as soon as we become aware off where it is. leading, the relationship must be severed politely and without human respect. This is for the greater good of the person whom we love in Christ; finally, it is for the greater glory of the one who has called us to holiness, Jesus Christ. In the same way, a friendship which would render a member of a religious order incapable of being available to do what his superiors want 9f him is simply not good. It is for the Lord that we have joined religious life, not for the purpose of surrounding ourselves with protective partnerships which go against true charity. In,his infinite goodness, the Lord may put on our path a person of the other sex for a certain period of time. This, person will enrich us through, friendship, and this enrichment can be mutual. But, here again, this gracemust be lived in all simplicity and with the necessary prudence since we are all weak, sinful human beings. Hope for Africa ~ , Certain missionaries have led young Africans to believe that celibacy is more difficult for them than !t is for young people from the West. This opinion is based on ignorance or it is a lie. The fundamental problem, in fact, is the same for all human beings; the conditions that are found in any culture are not qualitatively different. In the final analysis, it is the same fundamental problem for different people in different cultures; there are accidental but no essential differences. I have sometimes been shocked to hear this type of broad statement according to which it would be practically impossible for Africans to live a life of celibacy. For me, celibacy is rooted in faith in the living Christ. It is something which permeates the faith of the one who feels called, and faith is something which is given by the Lord without any distinction of culture or race. There are differences, but they are not so essential that they make a life of celibacy impossible in AfriCa. There are enough African religious to show th~.t this is true. Among these meia and women of Africa, often living in some isolated areas, there are men and women religious who live their cbnsecration to the Lord even in heroic fashion. Their silent example is enough to prove that celibacy is possible for Africans, at least for those who feel themselves called to it and who respond generously. Not too long ago, 1 was telling a group of young Africans the following: either we are Christians or we are not; either we believe in Jesus Christ or we don't believe in him at all. In this area there are no half measures. It's all or nothing. This is why faith in Jesus Christ requries a complete transformation of our life-style and of our outlook. One of the aspects of our outlook on life which must change because it is absolutely against Christianity is this requirement of a fruitfulness that is exclusively biological. A man without children among us in black Africa is one who does not bear fruit, who is useless and even an outcast. If there is an obstacle to the awakening and living out of vocations (and I am talking here about voca-tions to the priesthood or religious life), it is our too limited way of looking at fruitfulness. Many Africans believe that a man cannot be completely fulfilled in or outside of marriage unless he has many children. Among us, celibate people and Celibacy in Africa married couples without children are not seen in a good light because they seem useless to our society. It may be understandable that some non-Christians think this way. But for Christians this is disastrous. Haven't we ever meditated on the life of Christ? Can we ignore that he was himself celibate? Or do we believe that Jesus was not a man like us except for sin? Yet our creed is very clear on this. Jesus was truly God and he was truly man. If such is the case, why wouldn't we allow those among us who wish to live like Christ to doso? If it be true that the face of being celibate did not diminish the God made man, why wouldn't we accept that a certain number among us are not diminished by celibacy for Jesus Christ and his kingdom? Has the world ever known a being as fully developed as Jesus of Nazareth, our Love? Yet, he was celibate. Isn't this Jesus who lived without a wife and children still, even today, a source of all life for us? One doesn't lose anything by responding to his call, by becoming celibate for him and for his kingdom where we shall all have only one Father, his own, and where all of us will truly be brothers and sisters in the Spirit who makes us one. The young African is thus called to live a life of faith in Christ. He must not think that celibacy is more difficult for him than for young people in other continents. This is simply not true. Let us take the example of the West where today may be found pornographic films, sex shops, nightclubs. To live in such a world is not always easy. It requires a certain self-discipline. In order to live a life of celibacy in such an atmosphere, it is necessary to cling to Jesus Christ, to have a deep life of prayer and to receive the Eucharist regularly. The young African man or woman called to religious life will always remember that we live in a world of male and female; consequently, it is clear that we have to live our celibacy in the midst of men and women of our times and of our culture. There is nothing wrong with that; on the contrary, it is a grace that the Lord gives us by inviting us to live out his gospel in the midst of the world and not in some isolated corner. At the crossroads the Lord may put on our path certain persons of the other sex. We will welcome them as brothers and sisters in the Lord. The gospel is full of examples that show us how Jesus respected persons of the other sex. He doesn't send away the sinful woman who comes to the house of Simon, the Pharisee to have her sins forgiven. On this occasion, Jesus could have been afraid of shocking people by receiving such a woman with open arms. But the Lord was not afraid of what people would say or think because in true love there is no fear. Neither does Jesus judge the woman caught in adultery like the Pharisees who bring her to him. On the contrary, he defends her against the "unmarked tombs" who have grown old in sin and yet want to preach to others. Jesus is close friends with Martha and Mary as well as with their brother, Lazarus. Jesus has pity on the widow from Naim who has lost her son. The Lord admires the Canaanite woman's faith, and he is exceedingly affectionate toward his mother Mary, the Immaculate Virgin. In his Gospel, the Lord shows us how his celibacy did not exclude anybody. He Was completely open; he welcomed others. In solitude he prayed and he was a 20 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 source of joy and peace for the people that God, his Father, had placed in his path. If religious life is to flourish in our African continent,it is necessary that there be more and more religious who witness by their life of celibacy. A celibacy based on Jesus Christ cannot but be fruitful. Black Africa, which has such a high regard for fruitfulness, will see a new type of love which outstrips in fruitfulness the love of the children of this world. We, the sons and daughters of Mother Africa, have believed in the word of him who said, "there are some who are eunuchs because they have made themselves so for the kingdom of heaven. Let him who can understand, understand" (Mt 19:!2). If there is a word which has become the life of our life, that is the one. Spiritual Fruitfulness If there is a fruitfulness that is biological, there is another one which is spiritual. Any parent worth his salt knows that it is' not enough to procreate children. In responsible parenthood, it is also necessary to help the child that we have brought to life to grow untilhe has reached a stage where he will truly be an adult. To educate, to instruct are part and parcel of his awakening to human life. It takes only one instant for a couple to initiate the process of procreation. It takes only a little time to call someone into existence, but it requries many years for a child to become an adult. Whether it be as parents, as educators, or in any other capacity, all those who are engaged in human formation are doing a type of work that is spiritually generative. Any man who helps another one grow and become more human is a man who is gpiritually generative. This spiritual generation exists at various levels; yet, the spiritual fruitfulness of a Christian is not that of a non-Christian. From a Christian point of view, any Christian man or woman who awakens another human being to the life of God in Jesus Christ is spiritually fruitful. The object of spiritual fruitfulness for a Christian is Jesus Christ and his message. It is the person of Christ which distinguishes any typically Christian fruitfulness from any other. All Christians are called to be fruitful but in different ways and in accordance with their state in life. The form of life of one who wakens to the life of God in Jesus Christ is not something that is accidental. There are some who believe that the way of life--whether it be of married Christians or of "eunuchs for the king-dom of God"---has no importance in the process of awakening to life. But when one awakens somebody else to life, one does it with all one's being. If our way of life is not something external to us but a part of our being and, therefore, a part of our relationship to God, to others, and to the world, we can readily understand that this life-style is not without importance in matters of spiritual fruitfulness. In his life Jesus preferred celibacy to marriage, and this choice is not something accidental. The Jesus of the gospels presents himself to us as celibate and not otherwise, and this is part of the mystery of incarnation. In the same way Jesus was not at the same time a man and a woman. He was not both married and non-mar-ried. He was a celibate, and tfiis fact has some relevance in the transmission of his Celibacy in Africa message. He wanted to be born of a virgin, Mary, and this also is not something purely accidental or accessory in the mystery of salvation. Thus one who chooses celib~acy for the kingdom of God is fruitful differently from married people. This difference is rooted in the order of being and not of having. It is an ontological reality and, therefore, it is a dimension surrounded with mystery. The spiritual fecundity of those who live in celibacy resembles closely that of Christ. In other words, the way that Christ was spiritually fruitful resembles the way in which a man is fruitful through a celibacy chosen for Christ. Obviously "to resemble" or "to be close to" is not the same thing as "to be identical to." Wherever a true local Church is to be found, there will be found also Christians who are married and Christians who are eunuchs for the kingdom. Each of these forms of life has a great importance in the aspect of fecundity which is essential for the life of the Church. The uniqueness of the spiritual fruitfulness of a celibate for the kingdom of heaven shares something of the mystery of God made man, of God who wanted to be among us without woman or child while being eternally generative. Death Song of a Grain of Wheat Born above the earth, Beloved of the sun, Sky-held. Rain-touched. Wind-taught to dance, I know I sang of joy. Borne beneath the ground, Forsaken by the sun, Sky-denied, Rain-forgot, I feel no more the winds, And know a slower song. Yet reach I for the sun-set fires And C~rr the hidden waters. Stretched, song-heavy with the wait ' Of days too long to measure, I learn to trust the darkness That consumes me: That sends my myriad children to be Born above the earth. Sister Linda Karas. RSM Mercy Consultation Center P.O. Box 370 Dallas, PA 18612 The Sparrow Has Found Its Home At Last: A Personal Account of Transfer Anonymous The author is a sister who transferred from an active to a contemplative community some several years ago. She explains in the article why she prefers to remain anonymous. The sharing which follows comes as the result of a suggestion made to me that I write about my experience of transfer from an active community to a contempla-tive order. My first response was a hasty and hearty "No." Then the possibility of helping any individual or community involved in a similar experience crept into my prayer and thinking. The good which might be achieved seemed to outweigh my natural reticence and my disinclinatio.n to discuss the subject. I have not taken any polls, nor have I statistics. I personally know exactly six solemnly professed nuns and a few people in formation who transferred from active to contemplative life. However, one would'have to have lived on a remote Pacific atoll for the last several years not to know that transfers are on the increase. What follows is not a scholarly analysis of the phenomenon of transfer. It is just my own experience and an endeavor to share what ! have learned. The reason for my choosing anonymity is that I might feel freer in what I write and also guard the identity of my former and present communities. There is another reason: the story is more God's than my own. The transfer, or more correctly, my contempla-tive vocation, is his work, his call, his idea. My part has only been a response to his initiative and to his love. Early History The idea of transfer did not come as a sudden inspiration. My first desire to be a nun came when ! was twelve and I was certain then that I was called to be a contemplative: I even knew to which order and monastery I was attracted. Some-thing, though, interfered with following this vocation: My father adamantly opposed the idea of his daughter being immured in a cloister. The whole topic was 22 A Personal Account of Transfer forbidden, and gradually I forgot the idea. In the meantime, I became acquainted wi~h the sisters working in our parish. I won my father's consent to join this :community which 1 genuinely loved and admired. I received a good fo, rmation and an excellent education. I was very happy and contented. One thing consistenly moved and drew me: prayer. Right from the beginning I had some difficulty with meditation books and their outline of points, colloquies and resolutions. It all seemed too ready-made. Also, the time given to this prayer (one-half hour) never seemed to satisfy my longing for greater intimacy and depth. My difficulty was remedied by the fact that God simply transcended the books and led me along his chosen path for me in prayer. Another remedy came by way of hiding alone in solitary places on the novitiate property. There God had free rein in my heart. The one thing I most wanted was to love him and see him known and loved. Of course I did try to speak of this desire to superiors. They seemed mbre concerned that I live the common life, practice virtue, and eliminate my faults. All this was quite understandable but not terribly encouraging. Matters came to a head when I became a junior sister. My desires for loving God alone and in hiddenness, and for a life which would embrace withdrawal and penance became a steady fire within me. Neither studies nor work could distract me from it. After some months of inner turmoil I finally had the courage to broach the subject of a contemplative vocation to the community confessor, a, retreat maste.r, and my immediate superior. None of these persons told me the whole thing was a temptation against my vocation, but since 1 was happy and well adjusted, they each felt that I had enough opportunity for the things I was seeking within the scope of the religious life as it was then being lived in the congregation. Again, this was essentially what I had been told in the novitiate. My disappoint-ment was as strong as the attraction I had experienced but l was able to set aside my yearning. The work in which I was engaged kept me busy. I enjoyed it and gave myself to it wholeheartedly. A few years later, an unforgettable retreat, coupled with God teaching me to pray with Scripture some months after retreat, gave direction and support to me in my relationship with him. He was so near, and daily he spoke to me in his word. This did not rekindle the desire for contemplative life~ but it did establish me firmly in the way of contemplative prayer. This brief history serves, I think, to underscore a fact in my life and in the lives of those women whose stories of transfer I know well: the vocation was felt very early and not taken too seriously by those in a position to advise and assist. Had they done so, a good deal of the suffering, struggle and turmoil of coming to a decision to transfer,after many years in an apostolic congregation might have been mitigated. . Coming to a Decision In the years following Vatican Council II my community undertook its renew-al and adaptation. I welcomed all the initial changes as healthy and hopeful. As time went on, however, I became unhappy with my own and the community's level 24 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 of secularization. My modest wardrobe and collection of trifling possessions troubled my conscience. I wanted and expected to receive annual assignments, but the new approach of applying for both position and residence, with the full expectation that one's preferences would be honored, contradi6ted my understand-ing of Gospel obedience. T.V., mixed drinks, popular novels, dating, and all the inevitable departures from religious life were matters of grave concern to me. It seemed to me that the true life of the community was ebbing away, that God and the love of God were no longer the focus of life. We still did a first-class job in our work, but there appeared to me~ little difference between ourselves and dedicated lay persons. Without going into more detail, I felt it necessary to include the foregoing inasmuch as it formed some of the background for my transfer. However, I do not feel that discontent and disapproval, even if justified, are good reasons for transfer. They would form a very shaky foundation for any new beginning and would surely raise questions in the community accepting a transfer sister. Flight from trouble could well indicate that the same pattern would be followed in the new community. It could also mean that the heart of the problem might be within the sister herself, and her response to difficult circumstances. Fleeing trouble was never part of my motivation. Had this been the case, I would have done it much sooner because I lived in painful community situations for several years before making a transfer. Furthermore, 1 was always very open and honest in communicating my thinking to my superiors. One cannot simply leave. There must be integrity in the decision and it should be made in peace and, as far as possible, in harmony with one's higher superiors. There should be no bitterness, resentment or anger. The vocation is followed as God's call and is a result of his initiative. This fact, if kept central in the minds of all concerned, makes for peace; and it is in this way that God's presence manifests itself to all involved. God uses all our experiences to our good and brings about his purposes. While not my motivation, discontent and disapproval were part of my personal expe-rience and did serve to keep me from what I saw as wrong, In a more positive vein, they ,kept me praying for God's light, strength and help. Certain tragic events in my own family also form a part of this picture and had their effect. Instead of completely discouraging me or leading me to despair or exodus from religious life altogether, everything brought me to the God of all peace and consolation. He alone became myRock of Refuge and Teacher. The alienation I experienced from my community and its value increased my love for him and my trust in him. Thus it was that my attraction for simply being with God in love grew stronger. A mere "concidence" (in quotation marks because the providence of the God who numbers the hairs of our fieads extends to every circumstance and happen-ing) occasioned my writing to the superior of a monastery. In time we became correspondents. When I first visited her and met her community in the grilled and bare parlor of the monastery I was deeply moved. This surprised me. I had not thought of contemplative life as my vocation for years, yet here 1 was, feeling completely at home with relative strangers and very strongly drawn to their sim- A Personal Account of Transfer / 25 plicity, humility, joy, peace and poverty. In the months that followed 1 was haunted by the experience. I found out more about their life and read of their origin. Could it be? Might 1 become one of them? Or was this merely a desire for escape from present suffering ("the grass is always greener.") or a dream too good to be true? Then, too, there was the possibility to be faced that God was calling me to deeper contemplative prayer rather than actual contemplative life. And might I be doing more good in the world outside a cloister rather than in it? I went through this inner and secret turmoil for several months. All the while 1 begged for light and some discernible, positive direction from God. 1 kept waiting and hoping for some outside confirmation of God's will. God was, in fact, giving me all the "signs" I needed, but I distrusted the most significant of them: the profound attraction the life held for me over the years and especially at that moment, the fact that it fulfilled the most unselfish aspirations of my heart, and the fact that I seemed to have the requisite "talents." How is it we so readily distrust our own intuition and heart? Yet here at the deepest level of our being is where God works. Again, I have heard the same experience related by others who transferred to contemplative life. 1 went through no particular "process" of dis-cernment. There was just myself and, I trust, the Holy Spirit, plenty of tears, prayer, and searing, soul-searching honesty. One thing 1 knew: my life had one purpose and that was to love God with all my heart and soul, mind and being and to tend solely to him. Nothing else mattered. I did not see it then as clearly as I do now, but that, too, was evidence of a contemplative vocation, and had been the most important reality in my whole religious life. In his own time, God spoke, and he completely calmed the storm. I came to a "peace surpassing understanding." All my doubts vanished. My questions came to an end. I knew. In light of that peace I first asked the superior of the monastery (of the same order as that to which I was first attracted at the age of twelve) if there were any possibility of her accepting me. At the time I made my request I know now I was too little aware of the risk a small enclosed community takes in accepting a transfer. 1 next confided in my old and saintly grandmother who gave me her blessing, encouragement and wisdom--along with a warning that there was "still plenty of the world" in me and that I'd have far to go. She was absolutely correct. With my grandmother's prayers to back me, I approached my major superior. She was wonderful and accepting. The depth of my peace and conviction were evident to her. She fully realized and agreed.that this was a genuine vocation and not a result of any differences of values or opinions. We communicated in a real spirit of love. Not knowing much about contemplative life, her concern was that my personality might be stifled or my gifts ignored and unused. 1 had tentatively broached the subject to a priest friend in a letter some weeks before. Visiting him, 1 told him the whole story and said that I really thought it was God's will for me to transfer. He informed me that it came as no surprise to him, that he had seen it coming but had not wanted in any way to interfere with God's guidance of me. Among my family and friends, the least suprised was my mother. Her intuition had led her to realize that a great change was in the offing. 96 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 The responses of all the above mentioned persons further confirmed my expe-rience. I cannot say that my decision was accepted or understood by all my friends and religious family. It caused some painful estrangements and there were those who could only accept it as my "thing" and therefore all right for me. The actual process of transfer was thus initiated after what had felt like an interminable period of waiting and praying. Perhaps God wanted me to realize that it was first necessary that I be utterly surrendered to his desires and that the only way he could achieve this was to let me struggle on "alone" during that time. It was a kind of game of love. He so deeply drew me but never let me fully reach him. Left to myself 1 could not believe in my own heart. It was not until he gave me that unmistakable sign and gift of peace that 1 was sure that what I had been experiencing in my own heart was indeed his will for me, that the two were not two, but one. Legal Process of Transfer Because 1 am rather sure questions about procedure will arise, it may be helpful here to tell what 1 know about getting the document known as a "Rescript of Transfer" from the Sacred Congregation for Religious. In my own case this was done in the last months of my postulancy immediately prior to my receiving the habit and commencing my canonical year. For the validity of novitiate, one must have this document. Ordinarily the Vicar for Religious of the diocese in which the monastery is located handles the paperwork. He directed that three letters be written: the first by the superior of the community ! was leaving expressing her approval and her willingness to receive me back at any time before solemn vows should I leave the monastery; the second by the superior receiving me stating her willingness to receive me and including pertinent data regarding my status in religion (name, age, years professed, community of origin); the third by myself. handwritten and addressed to the Pope, stating my request and my reasons for it. These letters are sent to the Vicar who forwards them to.Rome through his office. In approximately six weeks, upon receipt of the rescript, he sends copies to the superiors. This is, as ! understand it, the general procedure, although I have heard of it being done through the Vicar of the diocese which the transferring sister was leaving. I have also heard of cases handled by a major superior independently of the Vicar for Religious. The superior dealt directly with the Sacred Congregation for Religious. In any case, this rescript is the only permission one needs to begin the canonical year and proceed through formation to vows. New Beginning I entered upon my new life with certain expectations. Some were realistic and some not so realistic. It was realistic to expect some sense of dbjb vu. This was in many ways a return to customs and practices l had lived in my first several years of religious life. With these things I was at home. I had also rightly anticipated a warm community life. Of course 1 allowed for a period of adjustment, but I did not A Personal Account of Transfer expect it to last more than six to eight weeks, in fact, it took much longer than that. The reason was not that I was too old to learn or change or that 1 lacked a willing docility. It was more subtle than this. Without realizing it, I expected to enter upon a period of rest, a sort of honeymoon in a safe harbor after years of struggle and sorrow. This was not to be. For one thing, the monastic community I entered was going through its own renewal pains. And much worse, for me, was that when I came in the front door of the monastery it seemed that God left by the back door. Here 1 was at last, and where was he? The work tired me. The hard bed took some getting used to. Often it was impossible to get back to sleep once it had been broken by the Office or night adoration of the Blessed Sacrament. Sometimes the closeness of my neighbors irritated me beyond measure. There were no days off from routine. I expected to master everything easily but it turned out that I was the one to be mastered. After many years in religious life it amazed me to learn how deluded I was about myself. Without the distractions of apostolic work and all that goes with it, without useless conversation, reading and entertainment, God's light began to clarify my vision. The very starkness of the life, its purity, makes for this experience. I was face to face with myself, my weakness, my poverty. Anything is possible if God is tangibly supporting us. It is when he is appar-ently nowhere to be found that things get out of hand and we are unable to cope with the simplest and most normal inconveniences and trials of daily life. But ought not a contemplative be able always to find refuge in prayer? Self-made prayer is most unsatisfactory. What a contemplative learns by being unable to pray, by being reduced to utter poverty at every level of existence (and this was my experience) is just to cling in naked faith to Jesus Crucified. Paradoxical as it may sound, there is no greater happiness. Having come to this reality through suffering, both in my life before 1 entered the monastery and in the years 1 have been here, I know something of what it means to say with Paul that I have been crucified with Christ, that my life is not my own and Christ lives in me (Ga 2:19-20). The way to the deepest joy I have ever known is just as the Son of God has taught us and that way is by losing my life and denying my very self. The total experience of knowing myself as nothing, of having nothing, has opened my eyes in faith to the All within me, the Being who in unfathomable love calls non-being into union with himself. My love for God, my hunger for him, unites me at the Heart of Reality with all my brothers and sisters in this world. I do not live for myself, nor suffer for myself, nor weep for myself. My vocati6n embraces every person on earth. In their names 1 pray and work. In their names, I, too, am in misery and pain. I am a whole world calling to God in need, in love, in trust. 1 have entered eternity in time and within me there is infinite scope for love. I came because of love and I have stayed because of love. Surely it is "a narrow gate and a hard road" (Mt 7:13-14), but it "leads to life," life opening more and more into the mystery of God as love. The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction Barbara Armstrong, O.SS.R. This article had its origin in a presentation made to a group of retreat masters by Sister Barbara, a cloistered nun residing in the Redemptoristine Monastery; Liguori. MO 63057. Somewhere in her writings, the great St. Teresa compares the contemplative with the standard-bearer in battle. She says that, because he is the standard-bearer, he is exposed to great danger. He can't defend himself because he carries the standard, of which he must not let go--even if he is to be cut to pieces. "Contemplatives," she says, "have to bear aloft the sign of humility, the Cross. And they must suffer all the blows aimed at them without striking back. Their duty is to suffer as Jesus did." "Let them watch what they are doing," she says again, "for if they let the standard fall, the battle is lost." It isn't the standard-bearer who is important. It is the standard itself which is all important, for it is imprinted with the sign of our salvation: the Cross. Perhaps this is why there are so few contemplatives. Perhaps, too, this is why contempla-tives need all the help they can get just to respond fully to the call of their vocation, to persevere and become fruitful in the Church of today. You Have No Eyes to See The message sent to the Church in Laodicea, in the Book of Revelation, is also a message meant for contemplatives--and for those who guide them. Right after the familiar passage about lukewarmness, we hear the Lord say: "You have no eyes to see that you are wretched, pitiable, poverty-stricken, blind and naked. My advice to you is to buy from me that gold which is purified in the furnace, so that you may be rich, and white garments to wear so that you may hide the shame of your nakedness, and salve to put on your eyes to make you see." That phrase, "You have no eyes to see," is significant for us because ignorance The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction is one of the reasons why relatively few contemplatives ever attain the end for which they were called: union with God. Mystical graces, we are told, are always available. God's goodness and generosity are never lacking. But very few actually arrive at a state of contemplation. Why is this? To answer this question, I would like to tell you a story. Actually, it is a parable which is told in the book of a Carmelite nun, Sister Ruth Burrows. Here is her parable. A Love Story Hidden away in a valley surrounded by high mountains there lived a very primitive tribe. The people of this tribe knew very little of the world outside their valley. Occasionally, they would get a glimpse of a jet streaking across the sky far over their heads, and this, they thought, was one of the gods throwing spears at another. One day a man appeared in the valley, a young anthropologist. He had come to study the tribe at close quarters--if they would have him. But they were a gentle tribe, so they welcomed him. The young man was lodged in the chief's hut and lived there for some years. Eventually he fell in love with the chief's daughter and married her. Hitherto, the girl had thought herself wealthy. Was not her father the most powerful of their people? But the closer she grew to her beloved, the more she saw that her riches--the family cattle, some cooking pots and animal skins--were as nothing compared to the possessions that were her husband's. He had materials, leathers and machines, knives and matches to make fire--riches unimaginable. But the girl saw, too, that her husband's greatest delight was to share his riches with her. Her lack merely aroused his bounty, so she knew her poverty itself primarily as a richness, giving them both pleasure. There came a time when the anthropologist had to leave and, taking his wife with him, he returned to his own civilization. The native girl found this new environment terribly alien. She discovered, to her horror, that her husband's enemies laughed at him behind his back because of his primitive wife. Even his friends pitied him. She didn't know what to do with this bitter knowledge. Some-how she had brought disgrace on her loved one. The girl always knew that her husband loved her. She knew that he longed to share his heart with her, take her completely into his life. But when he tried to speak of so many things closest to him, she would notice his voice falter, for she could not follow even the meaning of his words, let alone the scope of his thoughts and concepts. She was shut off from him by her own limitation and ignorance. That caused her distress almost beyond bearing. The more she realized what her poverty cost her beloved, the more absolute became her will to escape from it for his sake. Equally the more clearly did she see that, of herself, there was no escape. But all was not lost because she also realized that in her husband she had come not only to understand her poverty, but to find an effective and everpresent escape from it. From him she could receive all that his Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 love had prepared for her. So she opened her heart to everything he had to offer her. She found in him the most loving of teachers. Soon she became the echo of his thought. There passed between them intimate glances of complete understanding. She had an intuitive knowledge of how his mind worked, so closely did she grow to him. Yet she bad lost nothing of that natural woman he had first loved. On the contrary, she only now realized her own innate capacity. Her enrichment had brought all that was already there to bloom. But now, more than ever, she knew, too, that this was all his doing. Every perception, every growth, had come from his love and his teaching. Genuine Contemplatives This story, lengthy though it be, brings out so many important points about the contemplative vocation. Years ago, maybe it's different now, one of the phrases we often heard was that "we should strive for perfection." This tended to make us think that we could do it all ourselves. The main idea seemed to be that we were in control of our lives. The success of things depended on our own efforts. And so, many of us thought we could become contemplatives by the things we did. Like the primitive tribe of our story living in their valley, though, our horizons were very limited. We were content with our regulated existence, our own personal riches and the consolations sent us from time to time by a loving God. Much confid~nce was attached to the good things of our little enclosed world. We had no eyes to see beyond our then present peaceful life. But since we are meant to be genuine contemplatives, Jesus began to break through our ignorance and complacency. He asked us to leave our valley of poverty. He invited us to a rich interior world, one we had never dreamed of. These invitations continue to be offered to us in many ways. Perhaps they come in a retreat, in a sermon, in our reading, or through the words of a friend. But the voice is the voice of Jesus, and he invites us over and over again. If the primitive tribe in our story had turned away the young anthropologist when he came among them, he would never have married the chief's daughter. She would never have learned about the larger world; she would have stayed in her ignorance. Think of all the beauty, rich, ness and love of which she would have been deprived. The great St: Teresa was satisfied for a long time with her routine religious exercises, even though in her heart she knew better. We read that she continued to live just over twenty ,years with her heart divided between two extremes: the pleasures, satisfactions and pastimes of her fashionable world, and the spiritual life of a contemplative. How can this happen? How can we contemplatives continue to fool ourselves ---even though we are continually prodded, continually touched by grace? One of the ways we contemplatives have of staying in our valley of poverty is by our attachment to .the Law. We can" fall prey to a sort of fanatical legalism. The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction Most often, it seems, it is the most pious of persons who become rigid and unbending formalists. "Here at last," we say, "is something solid to hang on to." In our own eyes we are in the right. "We are doers of the Law." Any ,doer of the law, however, will also be tempted to live by the law, whereas the true lover of Jesus lives by the spirit. We contemplatives tend to make the Law, and it alone, our security. We never even dream that it is possible to seek a perfection in anything whatever with an intensity of zeal that is in itself imperfect. For instance, often in the past, the cross, austerity, suffering was unthinkingly perverted by us in our zeal. Wehad the idea that, since we were only pleasing God when we were suffering, the more suffering the better. Fearing and hating our bodies, we thought, would make us spiritual people. This, together with the notion that we were redeemed by suffering since Jesus died for us, we pushed .to its logical conclusion, thinking that we could never have too much suffering. It wasn't suffer-ing that redeemed us. It was love.t We contemplatives can develop attachments to just about anything: to prayer and fasting for their own sake; to a pious practice or devotion; to a custom or system of spirituality; to a method of meditation, even to contemplation itself (or to what we think is contemplation.) We can become attached to virtues, to things that, in themselves, are marks of heroism and high sanctity. We religious men and women, called to be saints, can allow ourselves to be blinded by an inordinate love for such things and can remain just as much in darkness and error as those who seem far less perfect than we. Some of us can become gluttons for prayer and for silence and solitude. Silence can become an ultimate. When there is noise we become angry and rebel-lious. If we are required to set aside our solitude for the sake of charity, we fill the air with our complaints. This kind of solitude and silence is false, of course, a refuge for the individualist. Perhaps the deepest attachment of all, the one which keeps us in our valley of poverty the longest, is attachment to ourselves. On this we must keep a fingerhold; we just cannot let go. Self-respect, self-fulfillment, self-satisfaction--we have to look good in our own eyes and in the eyes of others. We worry.about failure because somehow we are not living up to the expectations we have set for our-selves. Only secondly do we consider the expectations of God. In our story the chief's daughter found that her lack aroused her husband's bounty. She knew her poverty primarily as a sweet thing. But covetous as we are, we contemplatives want our hands full. We must have something of our own which we can bestow on God; or at least hold out to him, thinking to win him over with our generosity. When Jesus Touches Us Sooner or later we begin to realize that this way of living does not work; we begin to see that relying on ourselves alone is doomed to failure. When Jesus touches us with his mystical graces, what happens? Our eyes are opened and we are Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 dissatisfied with everything. This overwhelming feeling of dissatisfaction could very well be Jesus' most precious gift of all. But it does not seem so to us~ We look within and discover the same faults and vices we have always been burdened with. Prayer has become almost unbearable. Spiritual things in general lose their familiarity and joy. Panic deepens. Life seems turned upside down and inside out. Above all this, the knowl-edge that we have failed the Lord, that we have dropped the standard, that the battle is being lost--this is our deepest sorrow. But although all seems lost, what we experience in reality is the finding of our true life in Jesus. Like our primitivegirl, we, too, begin to realize, at last, that only in Jesus will we find our ever present redemption from our dreaded poverty. Retreat masters, spiritual directors and confessors will do us the greatest favor if they direct their efforts toward instilling in us an abiding trust in the all-loving Providence of God and in the saving life of Jesus. They should help us to mistrust ourselves and to surrender ourselves into His hands. They should teach us to cling to him no matter how dark things seem to be, teach us to have faith in his love and in his forgiveness no matter what we think we have done; no matter how we think we have failed. Signs of Progress What are the signs by which spiritual directors may gauge for certain real progress in contemplatives? Some of the outward manifestations of an inward mystical encounter or of infused contemplation might be the following: We contemplatives might describe to directors an experience of a deep and painful knowledge of ourselves, for we begin to see ourselves as we truly are. We may say that all our illusions are b~ing shattered, especially our illusions of self-importance. We may tell them that all our cherished ambitions are unmasked for the first time, or that we feel our dignity has been overthrown. We will, perhaps, tell them that we are lost; that we are not sure any more if we are leading dedicated lives at all. We exper!ence a growing sense of insecurity. At the same time, strange as it may seem, we experience at~ acceptance of this state. As our native girl found when she op~ned her heart to everything her husband had to offer her, so we contemplatives begin to see everything in a different light. Our lives of austerity, our efforts at mortification will acquire a deeper significance. We understand that as God is our life, we must let nothing take the edge off our need for him. This is a new way of living out our hunger and thirst, our refusing to be satisfied. We are consenting to have no security and no other satisfaction but God; a God who is unseen and unfelt. So near is he and so awesome, that unless we say "Yes" to him all the time, and accept life as he gives it, we must return to our valley of poverty. The temptation to turn back can be overwhelming. But it is also true that we are given a powerful strength at this time, enabling us to persevere. All this, of course, is an effect of Jesus' lox;e for us. We remember, indeed we cannot for a The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction moment forget, that any enrichment in us is all his doing. Still, this is a time of great struggle and temptation. Perhaps the greatest temptation will be to abandon prayer or at least to try to escape, in some way, the grievous suffering of a deep emptiness and poverty within. This empty prayer, however, has tremendous importance. If we consent to wait humbly for the Lord, we will, all unknowingly, find that it is precisely in this arid waste that Jesus is touching us. At this juncture, the contemplative might tell the director of an experience of being literally undone and remade, for there are no half measures any longer. What is really happening is that our faith is being deepened all the time. A sure sign that we contemplatives have not made progress will be precisely the certainty that we have! Alternatively another certain sign of growth might be the gradual disappearance of a tendency to criticize and find fault. There appears instead, a more gentle outlook; a kinder and more compassionate approach, thanks be to God. Love: Human and Divine Love has been our theme all the way through. But now I would like to be a li'ttle more specific about love, I mean the place of both human and divine love in the contemplative life. I think we will all agree that human affection is probably the most sweeping emotion in us. So, from the outset, we need to keep these two loves, the human and the divine, in order, lest the human sweep us off the foundation of the divine. To feel attraction for another, of course, is not wrong. Yet, for some of us, it can and does become a .dangerous thing. We fear to admit our feelings and to accept them, for the very difficulty in doing so can pose a thousand problems for us. At the same time, we know that this is the only healthy approach. It means we are accepting our sexuality and womanliness. I wonder if any of us ever fully grasps what a block to God's transforming action lies in the refusal to face up to and integrate our sexuality, and live it out continently for the glory of God? The Carmelite, Sr. Ruth Burrows states: "Being sexual means basically that 1 am a half and. not a whole. I am incomplete as I am and I tend, unconsciously, always to seek my other half, even though consciously, ! have renounced my right to marry and have children and be made whole by another. But grace does not work fully in a half person, so I struggle to love purely though it be through a great deal of suffering, because Jesus has promised to fill my emptiness with himself and so take away the ache of loneliness. If I am to become whole it will be in him and I must live in the hope of becoming whole in him and in him alone." The greatest danger is that we will try to get rid of the pain. We will even deny that these desires and attractions exist because they do not fit our stereotypic image of "the holy nun for whom God is enough." When we deny these feelings, the temptation will be to seek compensation for what we have given up. Frustrated longing comes to the surface sooner or later. It shows itself in outward behavior 3tl / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 such as domination of others, maternalism (or paternalism), or a passive or child-ish dependence. Who hasn't encountered these types in religious life? There are the old maids or bachelors. They will avoid personal involvements of every kind. In the name of holy recollection, they "keep their hearts for God alone." They are afraid to make friends and so they play it safe. Then there are the frustrated wives and mothers--and we might add, frus-trated fathers. These have never faced up to the truth of their feelings and desires. So they live on compensations instead of on God. They use their friends selfishly, looking for gratification from them. They dominate.and control other lives for their own ends, thinking all the while that this is "holy freedom" and "human fulfillment." To get back to us women: a woman, by nature, is meant to be selfless, receptive, wholly intent on giving and loving, that others 'might become them-selves. But when we see so many religious women leave their institutes these days, giving up their vocation and going back to secular life, we're not judging them when we ask, "Could it be that they did not get the help they needed in this problem of love?" Perhaps they found no one to understand their problem. Was there anyone to whom they could have gone for guidance amid these conflicting feelings, desires and attractions? I think we all need to know that it's alright to feel attraction and affection for others, especially for those of the opposite sex. I think we need to hear again and again that the feeling of attraction is only one side of love; that it may lead to love but that it is not itself real love but only a feeling. And like any feeling, it will not last thus forever. In the meantime, the tension in which we are caught, between our desires for exclusive love and our commitment to universal love, needs some level-headed self-control. We need someone to encourage us tO effort, watchful-ness and patience, humility and trust in divine grace. The struggle will teach us to rely on a spiritual power higher than our own nature. There is no doubt that we will grow from this struggle, which with God's help will become creative. We will learn to grow up, to take total responsibility for our own lives, their choices and decisions. And we will allow no one and nothing to turn us away from the principles by which we wish to live. The ultimate answer is found only when Jesus is re'peatedly placed before us as the object of our whole desire, and when, by repeated redirection, we are gradually transformed into him. Viva Memoria Finally, there comes a time when the interior rending apart, the anxiety, the sense of terrible absence are no more. The mysteries of Jesus, previously seen as the imitation of Christ giving the external principles by'which we were guided, now become our own mysteries, and we live progressively the life of Jesus; we become literally living memories. All that happens to the "personal me" begins to give joyful insight into the knowledge of Jesus himself. ~ Our venerable foundress, Mother Mary Celeste, has something to tell us about The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction this mystical state of contemplation. In her prayer our Lord speaks to her in these words which she passes on to us: "My spouse, abandon your own free will, your willing and your not willing, and leave all to my Divine Providence and my disposal. Make yourself an echo of my Willing. And if I say to you in my good pleasure: 'A cross,' then in your willing, will the cross. And if I say: 'Humiliation and contempt,' then be my echo and say, 'contempt.' And if I say: 'Kiss me with the kiss of sweet union,' then give me the most sweet echo of love and kiss me. It is in this way that you have no other desire or will than the absolute movement of my Will. Thus while you live, I, too, live as if I alone were alive in your very being, a.nd not you yourself." As with the happy couple in our love story, so it is with us: There begins the passing of those intimate glances of complete spiritual understanding. We might say that our whole occupation is love, or that prayer is our life. Either statement would be equally true. Then there is an awareness of deep contentment. That doesn't mean that growth isn't possible. In fact, it has to happen. The surrender becomes deeper and deeper, letting God do everything, totally sure that he will do so. And so ours becomes a life of deeper and deeper trust. We might end this as we began by saying, once again in the words of Sister Ruth Burrows, "Holiness in the contemplative is not a greatness but a total acceptance of human lowliness and total surrender of it to God in trust." Desert--After Fire Twisted; tortured, Bare black This land. Seared, scarred, What remnants remain. Evening whispers, "All is lost." Night mantles dark Deeper than ever touched This fire-scorched earth before. This land will heal. Soft spring rain Will sift tl~rough ashes. Bring new life to seed Concealed beneath the crusted earth. The cross is fire too And bare its wood Which must be aflame Before the Paschal morning dawns To heal and renew. Sister Miriam John, R.G.S. Patterdell 1820 W. Northern Ave. Phoenix, AZ 85021 Indwelling Prayer: Centering in God, Self, Others David J. Hassel, S.J. This article~ is a chapter from a book, Radical Prayer, which Father Hassel hopes soon to publish. An earlier article, "The Feel of Apostolic Contemplation-in-Action," appeared in the issue of May, 198 I. Father continues to reside at Loyola University of Chicago; 6525 North Sheridan Rd.; Chicago, IL 60626. The most radical of all types of prayer may well be indwelling prayer, for its quiet power pulses the movements of all other types of prayer. Indeed, the praying person, carried along by the seeming passivity of indwelling prayer, drifts closer and closer to the inmost self where the~ majestic God waits to welcome him or her warmly. In the attempt to delineate this deepest prayer, the reader's familiarity with various forms of more active prayer will be used as contrasting background for recognizing and appreciating more passive prayer. Some of these more active types of prayer would be: 1) problematic prayer wherein one reviews personal problems with the Lord while expressing various needs arising from them (e.g., peace in a troubled mar-riage, a job sought in the midst of a depressed economy, success in collegiate studies, mental health for a troubled daughter, good weather for the tourist season); 2) insight prayer (meditation): seeing the spiritual meaning of, e.g., a gospel event, a striking sentence in a saint's biography, a friend's casual but penetrating remark, a shocking event witnessed by chance; 3) spaced vocalprayer in which one spaces out the words of a favorite vocal tThe comments of James F. Maguire, S.J., of Edmund Fortman, S.J., and of Mary Ann Hoope, B.V.M., were especially incisive in revising this article for publication. 36 Indwelling Prayer / 37 prayer like the Our Father in order to discover and to reflect upon the fuller meaning of each phrase; 4) gospel contemplative prayer: seeing, hearing, feeling the gospel event as it unfolds in one's imagination; introducing oneself imaginatively into the scene as a friend of the apostles, as a servant girl, as a sick shepherd; 5) petitionary prayer: asking for God's help, e.g., to bring this person back to church, to relieve this person's mental agony, to be able to handle this court case well; 6) liturgicalprayer: the community finding God together in the sacred event of Eucharist, baptism, marriage, anointing of sick, reconciliation of sinners, and so on; 7) affective prayer: wherein feelings of hope, love, fear, anger, and desire (for God, for various virtues for saving situations, for the saints and for friends) operate. These are, of course, not ~all the forms of more active prayer, but they serve to illustrate the meaning of the term more active prayer for our purposes here. Familiarity with these types of more active prayer will later enable one to recognize, by experiential contrast, more passive prayer, and, hence, indwelling ;prayer, the probable source of all types of more passive prayer. Consequently, our first task is not to define abstractly more active prayer against more passive prayer, but instead, to get the "feel" of each by contrasting their diverse types of presence to God, self, and the world. This demands that, in ~/second step, we explore the experience of "presence" and ~ote the paradoxes arising in the presence constitut-ing more passive prayer. Thirdly, we will investigate whether more active and more passive prayer cancel out or nourish each other. In a fourth step, we note how those entering into more passive types of prayer, often undergo the discouraging feeling of prayerlessness, a purifying experience which paradoxically leads into awareness of the indwelling prayer underlying the more passive forms of prayer. At this point, we are finally ready to enter the life-rhythms of indwelling prayer and to search out the ways of doing this trinitarian prayer at the center of our being. Here, too, it should become clear why trinitarian prayer could be the presence underlying all types of prayer. For it reveals death and resurrection at new depths in our being. But for the present let us begin to deal with the diverse presences of more active and more passive prayer. The Diverse Presences of More Active and More Passive Prayer To distinguish more active prayer from more passive prayer is not to abandon one for the other, not to put a premium on one over the other, nor to deny their need of each other. But it is to see how they promote each other and to note how more passive types of prayer are rooted in indwelling prayer. Here definitions can mean nothing if they do not touch our prayer experience, or if they are ambiguous enough to bag together all types of prayer indiscriminately. Therefore we must distinguish these different types of prayer by describing the diverse experiences in which they occur. Let us begin such a process by first trying to discover the root of 311 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 more active prayer. Seven types (among many) of more active prayer were mentioned earlier. Actually all types of more active prayer seem to burgeon out of a single root, a "stretching out to the Lord." What is this stretch? It may well be an attitude towards others which the average good person has. To illustrate this, answer the following questions, and notice what you discover within yourself: i) Why not sleep later than usual today?--Suppose you do inconvenience some people like those in the car pool, like the spouse waiting at the breakfast table, like the other workers in the ,office or at the assembly line, like the students in the classroom? 2) Why pay attention at breakfast to the kids'chatter and the spouse's com-plaints about the leaking roof when the morning paper would be so much more interesting? 3) Why get to work a little bit early in order to get the jump on things so that the day goes better for everyone? 'Why not let others worry about the day? 4) Why help out at this or that emergency when you've got your own job to get done, too? Why not tell them to do the best they can without you since you're busy? 5) Why break off a lively lunch conversation to answer a telephone call or to listen to Henry's usual request for a loan to tide him over the weekend? 6) Why use your midafternoon break for correcting Jenny's letter to the man-ager protesting his failure to put her in charge of the secretary pool? 7) Why correct the kids at the dinner table when it's so much eas'ier to let things go and pretend you didn't see or hear it? 8) When you're dead tired and comfortably waiting for the T.V. news to come on or when you are just starting to relax with a little hi-fi music, why agree to hear the spelling lesson or arbitrate the latest argument betw, een the ten year old and the eleven year oM? 9) Why end and start your day with prayer at the tioes you're most tired? And why go to early Mass on your golf or hairdresser's day and also on Sunday, the only times you can sleep in? In other words, why keep stretching, stretching, stretching through the day unless there is a person waiting at the end of the stretching~ unless there is the Christ or the Father or the Spirit? This refusal to protect yourself from others and from God is a mysterious attitude.'Could it pbssibly be the lure of your vocation, the strength of your friendship with Christ (and therefore with his people, your people)? Could this attitude even be the taproot of 'all the types of more active prayer in your life? Could it even be the basic source of your contentment with life underneath all its irritations, failures, missed opportunities, and dashed hopes? Of course, this "stretch" attitude underlying more active prayer is. buried within one's consciousness and so it can be discovered only through the type of question-ing just completed. Yet is there riot some single directing lure running like'a golden thread through the "stretch" of the day to gi~,e direction and meaning to one's life? Indwelling Prayer And does this thread not lead eventually to the attractive Christ who alone makes fitting sense out of one's life? How can a person stretch out to all the needy unless first God is stretching out to him or her? .Here active prayer is seen as presence to the world and its needs--a presence inspired by Christ's appealing call. It would seem, then, that we may have tapped the root of more active prayer and are now ready to find the source of more passive prayer. More. passive prayer is often defined as a resting in God or a quiet'alertness to God and to others. Thomas Green describes it as "floating freely in th~ sea of God," as allowing God to direct oneself wherever he wills.2 In common with more active prayer, it is a refusal to protect oneself, it is an availability to God and to others. This common element,,hints at a deeper experience underlying both more active and more passive prayer and uniting them. And yet these two types of. prayers are quite different .since more passive prayer is often like a sinking into one's inner depths to find God; while more active prayer is a stretching out to others and to God in others. Even when more passive prayer is awareness of a God-vibrancy in clouds, trees, animals, and people's faces, voices, gestures, it nevertheless is more a stirring in the depths of one's being than a reaching out to touch. Even when one becomes aware of God somehow speaking and acting through the other person, passive prayer is more an alertness within one's own being than the message in the other's'action. Indeed, more passive prayer is, for the most part, careful listening, long waiting, occasionally a soundless crying out to God in his seeming absence. At other times, it is. allowing the Spirit to pray in me to the Father without my having any control; it is letting Jesus invade me totally,in my powerlessness and then .experiencing the resultant clash of fear and gladness within me. , ~ As more passive prayer progresses in the person, it can distill into a simple presenting of the self to the Lord. It is merely a "wanting to be with God" which is often intensified by Eucharistic presence. It is a wordless, thoughtless, imageless facing to .God. It is almost pure presence at the deepest level of experience; while in the upper levels of experience one can be .simultaneously aware of pain in one's posture, of distracting thoughts and images, of feelings of fatigue or elation. But the latter appear negligible compared to the facing of God. Here the praying person is facir~g not only God but also the mystery of presence itself. Perhaps the feeling and meaning of presence hold the key to understanding more passive prayer~ The Experience of Presence: Its Paradoxes in More Passive Prayer What is the "feel" of presence for us? It can be the invigorating experience of knowing that one's father and mother are listening proudly during one's piano 2Thomas H. Green, S.J., When the Well Runs Dr), (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1978), p. 150. Just as this book is ekcellent for its descriptions of more passive prayer, so his Opening to God (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1977) describes well more active prayer and delineates simply and directly the basic principles of beginners' prayer. tll~ / Review for Relig!ous, Jan.-Feb., 1982 recital~ or watching eagerly from the basketball grandstands for one's next basket. It can also be the sense of depletion, of sinking heart, when one sees the "enemy" coming into the room, hostile and even malevolent, to observe one's expected failure. Presence can be a sustaining strength in the hospital room. No need for words or for the busy alleviating of pain, just the steady touch of being there. Presence is an enriching moment when the vast anonymity of the great airport terminal'is shattered by a familiar voice calling one's name. Sometimes "absence" can sharpen one's awareness of what presence is. One observes two people talking to each other but neither listening, each waiting impatiently for his or her turn to speak. Absence can be the "freeze" where two people working side-by-side in a bakery or in an office, condemn each other heartily and render the eight-hour day coldly miserable for each other. The politi-cal handshake can be an insult when the state's leader has shaken three hands while still talking to the first hand. Here absence hardly makes the heart grow fonder. Presence, at times, seems to grow without any effort on one's part. Old friends go to the concert together. As soon as the music begins, they~are rapt and seem-ingly totally oblivious to the other. But neither would consider for a moment going to the concert alone. Underneath the silent raptness, their friendship continues to grow quietly--a conclusion proven by a new depth of sharing as they return home amid slow, mulling conversation. Not rarely three friends hike the mountain trails for six to eight hours with only an occasional word and: an almost silent midday lunch. Yet the enjoyment of each other is intense and, underneath the quiet calm, intimacy grows. It would seem that the beauty of music and nature mysteriously sensitizes each person to the other instead of distracting each from the other. This sense of the other's person deepens over the years; familiarity does not always breed co.ntempt. The tight-knit family may have more than its share of private squabbles, but its members have a true sixth sense when one of them is in jeopardy or in deep joy and they quickly arrive to rescue or to rejoice. Such a family, over the years, develops a secret language of grimace, wink, smile and code-words which sum up a lifetime of shared sorrows and laughs; the person of each is uniquely appreciated. The lover of many years still feels a _leap of heart when the beloved comes into the room or when the lover hears the beloved's laugh from the far side of the party chatter. The lover's heart affirms the beloved's "simply being there"---apart from what he or she is saying or doing;just as the two concert-goers and the three hikers are doing more than enjoying music and nature. They find in the being of music and mountains a new way in which to resonate to each other's being, i.e., to grow in the intimacy of friendship. For what is intimacy if not this acquired ability to live deeply with each other, to resonate in each other's very being, in such a way that friends can, on occasion, say to each other: "It doesn't really matter much where we go or what we do so long as we are together." Such intimacy, expressed through quick knowing glance, light caress, exuberant play, and the clasp of hand, perdures and grows at the being-level in emergency rooms, during sweaty decision-times about job and fam- Indwelling Prayer ily, on the beach, at the "graduation ceremonies" of the retarded child, at the birthday parties, within the many hasty breakfasts and more leisurely suppers. From all this, could one say that "presence" is intimacy or mutual resonance at the level of being? If so, then this could reveal much about the dynamics between more active and more passive types of prayer. If presence would be deep awareness of the other's very being, then "the prayer of simple presence" to God could be the praying person's affirming of God's being and God's affirming of the praying person's being. In more passive prayer of simple presence, one becomes aware of Christ and of his interests because one now allows him to enter oneself and one's work at the level of one's very being or personhood? In more passive prayer, God becomes more real for the praying person because the latter lets God be more real, i.e., lets God be Being Itself. The praying person does this by refusing to box up God within her or his own ideas, theories, and expectations. Rather, this person allows God to act in him or her: by remaining passive, he or she gives God time to become more present to the self. Paradoxically, then, more passive prayer renders a person more fully present to God and to self than does more active prayer. Through more passive prayer, the person becomes literally a being-for-God. Indeed, the divine name, Yahweh, comes to mean not merely "I am who am" but also "I am the One who will be for you." Is it possible that at this juncture we have reached that basic attitude of prayer which underlies all other attitudes of prayer? Is this the most radical of all prayers? For this basic attitude is the very being of a person as a "being-for-God." At this point, a second paradox comes into view. In more passive prayer, because the praying person is more present to self and to God at the level of being, he or she can now meet others at their being-level, not just humans but also animals, plants, and even non-vital things like mountains, rivers, fire, and stars. For with the experience of God's tender regard for oneself as unique and undying comes the ability to appreciate others as having unique worth and destiny. It is no wonder, then, that through more passive prayer, the praying person paradoxically becomes more actively present to the whole wide world. Even distant horizons are expanded by the intimate depth at which beings resonate with each other. For this reason more passive prayer renders the praying person more active in works for the family, the neighborhood, the Church--and also more hopeful because more trusting of the Holy Spirit's activity in the self and in others. More passive prayer, in making the perso.n less trusting of his or her own activity apart from God, has enabled the person to become more bold for the Church by 3Karl Rahner speaks of this passivity when describing the conditions of transcendence. "[Transcen-dence] may not be understood as an active mastering of the knowledge of God by one's own power, and hence also as a mastery of God himself. By its very nature subjectivity is always a transcendence which listens, which does not control, which is overwhelmed by mystery and opened up by mystery . Transcendence exists only by opening itself beyond itself, and, to put it in biblical languag,e, it is in its origin and from the very beginning the experience of being known by God himself" (Foundations of Christian Faith [New York: Seabury, 1978], p. 58). 42 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 allowing God to enter the self and to power the latter's actions. This is where personal vanity becomes reduced and the confidence in self-sacrifice gets increased. Evidently, the more passively praying person is more consciously a "being-for- God" and more clearly sees God as "I am the One who will be for you." The Differences Challenge and Nourish Each Other At this point having described more active and more passive prayer for them-selves, we are now in position to etch out their differences and to discover why these two types of prayer are called "more active" and "more passive" rather than simply active and passive prayer. It would appear that more active prayer is more conceptual than its counterpart, that is, more concerned with ideas and insight. It is also more creatively imaginative as it deals with plans of action, options for decisions, visions for the future, ambitions for the present. Again, more active prayer is more consciously integrative around a central idea or insight: "As 1 see it, the one great value in life is . "or "The central theme in my prayer is . " It is more apt to try to control: "We could set up this system of priorities, then get that done immediately; then . " It is more energetic, that is, more work oriented, more prone to gathering achievements. Finally, it is more bodily, because action in the world is incarnated through the body. On the other hand, more passive prayer is more affective than conceptual, more conscious of feelings for the other and in the other; therefore; it is more value oriented than vision enthralled. It is also more receptive than creative in its use of the imagination; thus, art and nature speak out more clearly and enter more movingly into the person praying more passively. It is more integrative by person or spirit than by idea: "This person loves me and so 1 can take the hard knocks ahead," or "1 don't quite understand her plan, but I trust her and will do what she says," Indeed, more 'passive prayer is, strangely, more spontaneous than con-trolled; it is more disturbing, more surprising, more dangerous to a person's careful selfishness. One says more often: "This happening in prayer wa~ a rather unex-pected revelation for me; I'm not sure 1 like this turn of events." Again, in more passive prayer there is more waiting, more expectancy, more sharp listening: "Nothing seems to be happening for days, and then boom ."Finally, it is more soulful in its reflective sinking into the self to find God. It should be clearer now that one must name these two types of prayer more active and more passive lest we split the personality of prayer. For both types are active and both are passive but with different emphases. For example, both use concepts, imagination, and feelings; but more active prayer is more conceptual than affective and the reverse is true of passive prayer. More active prayer deals more often with the creative imagination and more passive prayer works more often with the receptive imagination; but both types of prayer, working' in one and the same imagination, use not only the creative but also the receptive function of the imagination. All this would seem to point to their radical unity, especially since in both types the praying person has the intent not to prote,ct and to comfort the self but rather Indwelling Prayer / 43 to be available to God and to his people. Indeed, it would appear that either type of prayer would go slack and die without the appropriate challenge of the other type: Without the "stretch" of more active prayer, more passive prayer could wallow deep in the self and even forget God, much more his people. Without the "reflective sinking into being" of more passive prayer, more active prayer can end up in such a welter of action that the "stretch" could one day shred into a thousand loose strands of frenetic, superficial activities having no center of being, no rever-ence for others, no undying future. But actually, both types of prayer can challenge and nourish the other. More active prayer is concerned with "putting it all together," with having the world make final sense, so that the world is somehow under control. More active prayer works that the praying person may "have it all together," may be totally integrated as a wholesome person, not fragmented or tormented, so that the praying person may control her or his destiny. On the other hand, more passive prayer forces the praying person to face the fact that he or she is a being totally dependent on God whom he or she must trust in the midst of personal fragmentation and of a world gone awry~ More active prayer wants the resurrection now and the beatific vision now just as they are promised in every love song; in all ~great poetry and drama, and in the apocalyptic literature of the Bible. In contrast, more passive prayer demands that the praying person wait and listen, become excruciatingly aware of shortcomings and sins within one's being or personhood, know his or her absolute powerlessness to do anything worthwhile apart from God, be content for now with much less than immediate resurrection and beatific vision. Neither prayer denies the truth of the other's intent; neither claims to have all the truth, but each challenges the other to greater realism about self, God, and the world. Each depends on the challenge of the other as more active prayer aims at total wholesomeness of self and world in God and as more passive prayer aims at enduring the fragmentation of self and dislocation of world until God heals them both~ There is, however, more than challenge between the two types of prayer. Each nourishesand promotes the other. The more active forms of prayer (e.g., the seven mentioned earlier) lead into the more passive forms of prayer, which in turn.root more deeply the ensuing more active forms of prayer. For example, meditative or mental prayer focuses the praying person's powers on particular objects such asan event of Christ's life, Mary's motherhood of the Church, the mystery of the Eucharist, God's plan for the individual or gr

Issue 38.5 of the Review for Religious, 1979. ; REVIEW FOR RE~.~(;~OUS (ISSN (~)34-639X). published bi-monthly (every two months), is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis. MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute: St. Louis. Missouri. © 1979 By REVIEW FOR RE~.~;~OUS. Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis. Missouri. Single copies: $2.0(I. Subscription U.S.A.: $8.00 a year: $15.00 for two years. Other countries: $9.00 a year. $17.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write REv,~-:w VOR RE~.~;~OtJS: P.O. Box 6070: Duluth. Minnesota 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor September, 1979 Volume 38 Number 5 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to R~:v~v:w r'on Rv:~Ac,~oos; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues ahd articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Detachment in the Ascent of( Mount Carmel'. an Appreciation Judson Mather Dr. Mather, father of a large family and active in Catholic life Jn campus, is Associate Professor in the Department of Humanities of Michigan State Universitty. His address: 547 Charles St.; East Lansing, M148823. [ Whatever its actual content and overt interest, W.H. Auden said, every poem is rooted in imaginative awe. This is a dictum, worth keeping in mind in approaching St. John of the Cross. For John of the Cross was a contempla-tive, a poet, and a mystical theologian--in that order. His poetry flowed from his lived experience as a man of prayer and was the most immediate ex-pression of that experience. The Ascent of Mo~unt Carmel and the other works of mystical theology which he wrote are all c~ast as commentaries on his poetry. The books, of course, reveal other sides ~f his remarkable gifts: his sharp, systematic mind, for instance, and the exte~nt to which he was steeped in the Scriptures. But behind this always stands tt .~ imaginative awe commu-nicated in the poetry. The whole of the Ascent, adeed' is the exposition of one brief stanza: In the midst of a dark night, Yearnihg, and with love alight -- Ah, sheer fortune's fill! -- 1 went out hidden from all si ;ht, At last my dwelling being still. ¯ Author's translation. Prose passages quoted in the following pages are the E. Allison Pee~ translation: St. John of the Cross, Ascent of Mount Carmel (Garden City, N.Y.: Image Books, 1958). 641 649 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 Book One of the Ascent surveys this stanza as a whole; Books Two and Three concentrate in great detail on the "dark night" spoken of in the first line. He expounds the dark night of faith, which entails a. darkening of knowledge; the dark night of hope, which is accompanied byan obscuring 6f the memory; and the dark night of love which brings with it the dark night of the will. The poetic touchstone of the Ascent is important because throughout the book John is using the central metaphore of his poem -- a dark night-- as the symbol of his central theme: detachment. If we lose sight of the imagina-tive link here, we are also apt to miss his central insight that detachment is the gift of grace -- "sheer fortune" -- and not an accomplishment. The problem is not that the theme of detachment is obscured or buried in the text of the book. On the contrary, John seems to go at the dark night of detachment with a thoroughness, a grim relish, that could strike us as being masochistic. We find him, for example, telling us to "strive always to prefer" the most difficult rather than the easiest, the most unpleasant rather than the delectable, the wearisome rather than the restful, the worst of temporal things rather than the best. "Let the soul strive to work in its own despite, and desire all to do so" (Iil 3/6.,9). No one would urge that detachment is an easy matter. But wh~t is missing from passages such as these (and there are quite a few) is the sense of imagi-native awe communicated in the poetry. Where this sense of awe is lacking, there seems to be a suggestion that detachment is some kind of self-improve-ment project. This can hardly be the case. Self-preoccupation certainly was "~/ not something John wanted to instill in his re'~-~-d~:s; least ~-f-~]"would he re(-'. ommend the warped and twisted spiritual pride of masochism. Quite the con-trary, the whole issue he addresses in treating detachment is the issue of how God goes about cracking the hard shell of our egotism, so that the light of Christ can shine within. Much of therproblem I suspect, is the gulf between the culture in which we live and the culture within which -- and for which -- John wrote. John's way of discussing detachment was imbued with the rough-and-tumble individual-ism of six~teenth-century Spain. It was the world of the conquistadores and Don Qui, xote (who may have been mad but was not cowardly). It was what the anthropologists call a "courage culture," where one's very sense of being someone was apt to be tied up with his demonstrated bravery. Ignatius Loyola, the founder of the Jesuits, for example, was a soldier in the days before his conversion. His leg was smashed by a cannonball. He had it broken and reset- twice, without anesthetic- so that he could once again cut a good figure in the hose stockings that gentlemen of the day wore. Nor did John of the Cross himself lead a sheltered life. There was a great struggle going on between the Caiced and the Reformed Carmelites; John had left the Calced Carmelites and joined the Reformed. Twice he was kidnapped by the Calceds. The second time he was imprisoned in a six-by-ten-foot windowless Detachment in the Ascent of Mount Carmel / 64:3 room; three times a week he was taken out-and beaten in the refectory for his stubborn refusal to renounce his Reformed vows. Only after a year and a half or so of :this treatment was he able to escape and return to the Reformed order~ Because John was writing in and for this kind of world, it is not surprising that he said tough-minded things in a tough-minded way. But detachment, not."assertiveness training," was his concern. We need not get bogged down in the individualistic, courage-culture way he talked about detachment. There are other traditions of detachment in the Church we can turn to for guidance in these matters. The much older Rule of St. Benedict, for example, treats the root and fruit of discipline as social rather than individual. That is, the touch-stone of detachment is not a matter of preferring the worst or the best or something in between. It is .living in a kindly and generous way with those rub shoulders with all the time. This may be less spectacular than preferringrr the worst, but it's not necessarily less demanding. The "dark night" of which John speaks begins with what we would prob-ably call a "difficulty in mental prayer." The difficulty emerges as a sense of deprivation. Prayer dries up. One loses, as it were, the capacity to think and pray at the same time. With this loss comes a loss of relish for prayer, the loss of a capacity to enjoy it, One seems to be losing hold of what he has most deeply desired. With this, not surprisingly, there also comes a sense of losing the way. One doesn't know where he's going. '.'~Progress" seems to have come up against a brick wail. Beneath all this, there's a loss of the sense of who God is -- and more directly who Godis in relation to one's self. Is faith itself evaporating away? This experience is probably fairly widespread, and can and does lead to giving up the whole business -- faith, prayer and the rest of it -- as a bad job. We can come to think of it all as a delusion -- and indeed there may well be a sense of relief that comes of thinking of it in this way. But the relief is bitter-sweet. Even Sartre, the atheist-existentialist, says that the world without God is a forlorn world, John goes beyond a perception of forlornness. He points out that what makes this darknes~ so paradoxical and so painful is that the dark night d6scends at the same time as one is "yearning, and with love alight." The sense of the loss of God's presence is accompanied by a deep longing for God. If this paradoxical and painful state is endured, John says, something happens. He calls it "sheer fortune." Now sheer fortune isn't something we do. It's something that "happens," unexpectedly. Such a happening, I want to stress, is not what we would normally call an experience. It only becomes an experience in retrospect--where we can look back on it and say, "Yes. That happened." What happens is described by. John in the second half of the stanza. "I went out hidden from all sight / At last my dwelling being still." In the midst 644 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 of obscurity and darkness, paradox and pain, while we were not observing it--indeed precisely because we were not observing it m we were drawn forth from ourselve.s_:__T_~e_.gi~ft of self-forgetfulness was somehow bestowed on the °lS~'~tered ego. ~,n"n'-d--~we ~-~ r--~-o-~, ~-l~rely, that this was indeed "sheer fortune." It was what down deep we really wanted all along anyway, while we were looking elsewhere for some other kind of answer. This, I believe, is the context for John's strong emphasis on detachment in Book One. Rightly used, detachment is a way of coming to grips with reali-ty- of getting our desires into order with reality instead of with illusion. Such an ordering is important to the contemplative prayer John describes be-cause the reality we are facing here is the reality of darkness. What we need is not a change of scene or the return of old feelings. We need the grace of en-durance. And that, of course, is what God is providing. John puts the point in a powerful metaphor: the Israelites, he says, "failed to find in the manna all the sweetness and strength they could wish, not because it was not con-tained in the manna, but because they desired some other thing" 0/5/4). There's a whole commentary of life in this sentence. It's easy to become so preoccupied with what God is not providing that we neglect to notice what he is providing. This is not to say that the grace of endurance will be experienced as some-thing noble and admirable. It's more likely to be a matter of stumbling on, we know not how. We wonder if we really should have meant to offer our-selves to God, and if he isn't asking of us more than we are able to give. This shouldn't be surprising. Our sense of an inability to cope on our own strength is an education in humility -- which is a good part of what we are up to in the first place. Of course, we'd prefer some other sort of education. We'd rather learn humility without humiliation. But that's not usually the way in which reality works. The point here also can be put in a more positive way. Detachment is important to contemplative prayer because contemplative prayer is a being called forth by reality-- the Reality, God himself. It's an adventure with all the danger as well as all the challenge that adventure implies. Because God is the Reality, he is so vast and awesome, so intimate and penetrating, that there is little if anything in our previous experience that corresponds to what has come upon us. So the expectation of the unknown, the surprising, the fright-ening conforms to the reality of the situation in which we find ourselves. Detachment is crucial to dealing with this because in the darkness we must continually be sorting things out. We need to sort the things that matter more from the things that matter less as we go along this unknown way. There are two further points to make about contemplative detachment. First, contemplative detachment is not passivity. It's an active wanting of what God wants in the particular, concrete circumstances in which we stand. It means not sitting back, but responding, to the particular moment, with all its opportunities and all its limitations. Second, contemplative detachment is Detachment in the Ascent of Mount Carmel / 645 not a cold, independent, isolated thing. Rather it's a matter of freely giving up as a part of freely giving. It is a willingness to take the risk of being shat-tered, of abiding in a shattered state--and of abiding with others in their shattered state as well. There is no other contemplative way. The shattered state is where the "sheer fortune of going out hidden from all sight" occurs. As we move from Book One to Book Two, it becomes apparent that de-tachment is central in contemplative prayer, and not just a preparation for it. That is, we don't let go of material things in order to grasp and possess spirit-ual things. The crux of contemplative prayer is a deep spiritual detachment. There is a reason for this. If the term, "spiritual growth" means any-thing, it means a growth "into Christ" m a being called forth into deeper union with him. And here the Christ of the Gospel confronts us with the uni-ty of his teaching and his deeds. When he said, "he who would save his life will lose it, and he who will lose his life for my sake will find it," he was giv-ing a commentary on what he himself was in the midst of doing in relation to his Father. He did not do o]ae thing so that we could do something else. He did one thing so we could do the same thing. He did not say "Take up your cross and go your own way," but "Take up your cross and follow me." The theological pivot of Book Two of the Ascent is Chapter Seven. Here John turns to a central paradox and mystery of the faith: Christ's utter deso-lation at the transformative moment of redemption on the Cro~s. There, out of annihilation, flows fullness of life. This is to say (among other things) that the wellspring of faith in Christ is the faith of Christ: his utter faith in his Father's goodness and triumphant strength. The issue here is not just theory, but practice as well. The story of the Garden oi' Eden--whatever else it means- is a story about the practical doubt of huhaankind in God's complete and trustworthy goodness. The story is universal because this doubt has had practical ramifications throughout history and throughout each one's life. It is universal, but not final. The Good News of Christ addresses the practical doubt of Eden. It proclaims that in Christ doubt is mended by its re~,ersal: Christ's practical trust in his Father's goodness to and beyond the point of death itself. As we are drawn toward union with Christ, we come to the faith that darkens our knowledge and supplants our reason. There grows on us a deep sense of the inadequacy and inoperativeness of our knowledge when it comes face to face with these issues which matter most of all. The theological sense of the~Unity of desolation and fruitfulness in Christ's saving work is no longer just an object of our knowledge. It overshadows us and lays hold of us direct-ly. John describes this transformative darkening in terms of the nearness of God -- it is like, he says, the nearness of fire to a burning log. A more human analogy of nearness may be more to the point for us. Humanly speaking, the full richness of faith is not so much belief in certain facts as a matter of loyal- 6415 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 ty and trust directed toward a person. Now, up to a certain point we can say why we trust a person. But the explanation of that trust is not the substance of it. The substance of it is the trust itself. Indeed, there is a kind of propor-tionality operating here. The more we need reasons, the less there is of trust; the more the trust, the more peripheral and inadequate the reasons seem. As trust grows, we find it bec.oming more mysterious.--going (as John would say) to what we know not by a way we know not. We can~su.spect that com-plete trust would have no need of reasons: it simply is. In prayer, the supplanting of reason and knowledge by the dark night of faith explains why meditation dries up. This is as it should be." Meditation is an exercise of the imagination, and as John says, "although a man imagines palaces of pearls and mountains of gold, because he has seen gold and pearls, all this is in truth less than~ the essence of a little gold or a single pearl" (II/12/4). The greatest imaginary thing is less than the least of the real. And what is being offered in the prayer of the dark night is a touch of the real. To try to hang onto the imaginary under such circumstances is to thwart the working of reality. It is desiring some other thing. This is important, because whfit is experienced in contemplative prayer -- certainly at first and probably for a long time--is more the loss than the gain. John speaks of the "prayer of loving attention." But this does not mean that we're likely to feel loving and attentive. Rather it's a matter of somehow trusting God's love and attentiveness. Much of John's exposition in Book Two is directed toward showing why it's right that this should be so. Here as so often, he goes directly to the root of the matter. He points out that theologically there is a finality about God's word when the Word himself became flesh and dwelt among us. Christ's life and teaching, as remembered and recorded by the faithful community, is full, c6mplete, and adequate. We need nothing more. Thus any qtlest for or reliance upon special signs or revelation or experience in prayer is wrong. Such prayer.-.experience either confirms what is already there -- in which case it is basically superfluous -- or else it is different from what is already there. In that case it is positively misleading. And in either case it reveals a certhin lack of faith -- a doubt that the full glory of God has already been revealed in Christ. Indeed, Jol{n sa3is that even if special experience in prayer were a good thing, it~is less of a good .thing than the pure dark night of faith. For it's only in this night that faith is maintained, noui'ished and increased. So we come upon one of the central paradoxes of contemplative prayer. It can genuinely seem--feel--lower and lesser. It canseem like a waste of timg, nothing at all. This is so because'its substance is simply that of a~tively willing whatever it is that God wants. This is a choice, and a choice that has to be continually remade. But it is not a matter of looking for or asking for something special for our own unique case: it is an intent toward trust. It is wanting to pra} without setting qualifications or conditions on what we ex-pect God to do with our offering of prayer. Detachment in the Ascent of Mount Carmel / 64Z In the Third Book of the Ascent,~ John moves on to discuss the dark nights of hope and love. For it is, John says, not just our knowledge but our memory and will as well that are overshadowed in the dark night of contem-plation. Here again, as in the dark night of faith, John's exposition aims at show-ing why this seeming loss is in fact the onset of a new and deeper freedom. That darkness attends hope is built into the very nature of hope itself. For hope, by definition, is for what we do not possess. The more specific hope is, the narrower its boundaries. The "purer" hope is, the less qualified and structured it is -- the more completely open to God. And the more complete the hope, the greater the darkness and mystery. Memoi'y provides the images by which we structure and limit experience. As we go by a way we know not to a place we know not, memory becomes in-creasingly useless as a guide and judge. For we more clearly recognize memo-ry for what it is: our distorted images and pictures, not the reality we seek. And yet we do not know, in having to let go of the help memory once brought, whether we are letting' go of everything J of our very self, ,It's an emptying even more searching than the dark night of faith. Yet such darkness is the right way. If God is in the process of making all things new- of t'ransforming us- we don't want to set boundaries to his activity. Qur business is to "let go." Of course, this is not to say that we can will such letting go and make it happen. Even if that were possible, it would just be possessiveness operatin~ on a deeper and more subtle level. The gift we await can only arrive on the o~her side of the memories we control and possess: arrive as a happy chance. The dark night of love J and its accompanying night of the will -- is the mo~t searching and awesome darkness of ~ill. It is also the most crucial. For without this final darkness and detachment, all that has gone before goes for fiau~ht. This is so because the° love of God is what the whole human enterprise of living and praying is about in the first place. And the ultimate calling of God's love is to a letting go of all the barriers we have to receiving and giving. It is arriving at a point where w.e have nothing to protect from God's own searching and limitless openness t6 giving and r~ceiving. Tl~e experience of this, however, is far more apt to be like falling com-pletely through the bottom--into complete loss, into nothingness. John links the dark night of the will with {he prayer of Gethsemahe which stands at the heart of the Lord's prayer: "Thy will, not mine, be~done.'' There is no other way. Practically speaking, wanting to love God most of all is a matter of wanting to w~int what God wants most of all, whatever that is. The cost is real. John puts his finger on this when he characterizes the dark night of the will as a le'ttin~g go of joy--joy remembered, joy experi-enced, joy hoped for. Darkness indeed, f6r how can we experience the letting go qfjoy as something other than the letting go of love itself? But it's not the letting go of love; "it's the letting go of control. Falling 648 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 through the bottom can be a fall into an unsuspected world of freedom, a new recognition of a capacity for joy. William Blake epitomized it in "Eternity:" He who bends to himself a joy Does the winged life destroy. But he who kisses the joy as it flies Lives in eternity's sunrise. We come to recognize that possession is not God's business. We can talk, I suppose, about being "possessed by the devil." But we aren't possessed by God; we're loved by him, with all the freedom and mutuality that love im-plies. Our freedom lies in the recognition that he will enable us to respond in kind. In the dark night of love the need to possess and hang on have somehow been swallowed up. As John says, we can begin to enjoy things and persons and God "according to their truth," and not just according to their meaning and worth for us (III/20/2-3). When the need to control goes, the real joy of freedom arrives. All this may help to indicate why John makes detachment the central focus of the beginning stages of contemplative prayer. It also may indicate that the word "beginning" covers a good deal of ground. As both Dom John Chapman and Thomas Merton remark, in the spiritual life we're lucky if the beginnings last only twenty years or so. Indeed, there's a way in which the contemplative life is always a matter of new beginnings. Such alife (as one of the Zen masters says) is an invitation and quest to discover more fully the gift of a "beginner's mind"--a mind that is open and compassionate, with many possibilities rather than a few. Thus although the Ascent is the introductory work in the body of John's mystical writings, it deals with substantive spirituality, not with approaches or fringes. The Ascent is elementary in the sense of being basic rather than in the sense of being a prologue to be gotten through quickly. Nor is ~he Ascent just a technical handbook on prayer. Starting from the rather narrow base of a "difficulty in mental prayer," John suggests a broad-er panorama. He paints a picture of a way of living, of coping with reality, that is both distinctive and profound. From the standpoint of a biblical theology, his emphasis is like that of the Fourth Gospel rather than like that of St. Paul and the synoptic gospels. That is, he understands the moments of humiliation and glorification as primarily simultaneous, not primarily sequential. The Cross is, to him, the way of life, not just the way to life. This theological point has a practical bearing Qn both one's personal out-look and one's pastoral perspective. How are we to understand the trouble and the darkness that we and others pass through? Is it mainly a punishment or a testing? Or is it basically a calling into deeper union with the whole range Detachment in the Ascent of Mount Carmel /649 of the human condition, and a calling into the whole realm of human and divine caring that the human condition invites? John of the Cross furnishes the theological and spiritual basis for this lat-ter understanding of the burdensomeness of life: for seeing it as an invitation to deeper union, more caring. This is not (it should be said) a popular out-look, for it runs counter to some deep cultural trends in our society--the cult of self-awareness, self-expression, self-fulfillment, and all the other cults of narcissism. Against all such cults John sets the possibility of a better way: a hard but simple happening, rooted in God's generosity and our imaginative awe: In the midst of a dark night, Yearning, and with love alight -- Ah, sheer fortune's fill! -- I went out hidden from all sight, At last my dwelling being still. Now dies the sun under the cross-- I pity, Mary, thy fair face. And thy tears as downward they trace. Now dies the sun under the cross-- I pity, Mary, thy son and thy loss. Denver Sasser Morrill Hall 205 Oklahoma State University Stillwater, OK 74074 (A translation-adaptation of an anonymous English lyric of the 13th Century.) Mission and Commitment A ngelo M. Caligiuri Father Caligiuri is Vicar for Religious in the Diocese of Buffalo. His last article in these pages, entitled "Spirituality and Ordinary Human Experience," appeared in the issue of May, 1978. He may be addressed at the Office of the Vicar for Religious; 100 S. Elmwood Ave.; Buffalo, NY 14202. One of the faith-categories which post conciliar writings have opened up for us in an enlivening and challenging way is that of mission. Since the Council, theological and spiritual writings have unpacked more of the mean-ing of this word and have brought us to a deeper level of understanding, an understanding of mission as a defining characteristic of what it means to be Christian. In this radical sense, mission refers to an essential dimension of the way of life of anyone who has heard the good news and in faith responds to the Lord's invitation to share his life and further his kingdom (see, for example, John Paul II, RedemptorHominis, 9, 10, II, 12, 18, 19; Paul VI, Evangelii Nuntiandi, 6, 13, 59, 60). While mission can be spoken of in rather general and broad terms, any consideration of the full phenomenon of mission will necessarily involve one in a consideration of three persons: the one who sends; the one who is sent; and the one to whom he is sent. To put it in more direct language, we could say that mission means: someone saying. to someone "Go to someone." 650 Mission and Commitment / 65"1 The Mission of Jesus As Jesus was aware of his being sent by the Father to make his message of love known to the world, so does he send his disciples into the world to con-tinue his mission of revealing the Father's love (see, e.g. John 17). Or in more direct language we might say that: as the Father said to Jesus "Go to my people." and tell them of my love for them and of the love that they should have for one another, so does Jesus say io his followers (the church) "Go to my people (the world)." and tell them of my Father's love for them and of'the love they should have for one another. This mission which Jesus received from his Father, he transmitted to the c~ommunity of believers drawn together by his Sp!ri~, i.e. to the Church, We who are the Church, then insofar as we are church, i.e. insofar as God's Spirit leads us to accept Jesus as Lord and Savior and as the revelation of the Father's love, share in the very mission of Jesus. himself. For it is to his Church, i.e. to those who believe in him, that hesays, go to the world and tell it of my Father's love and of the love humans should have for one another. Ecclesial Dimension of Mission To speak of mission, there, within tile Christian community, at whatever level, is also necessarily to spea~k of the Father, Son, Spirit, and Church. Hence the authentication of one's particular mission as Christian, that is, as continuous with the mission of the Son, will be rooted within the Church. Or, to say this in other words, there is an essential ecclesial dimension to all Christian mission. Mission as an Interpersohal R~ality In what was perhal~s.the last document signed by ~he late Pope Paul VI, a document entitled "Directives for the Mutual Relations Between Bishops and Religious in the Church,'_' we read the following. The mission of the people of God is one. In a certain sense it constitutes the heart of the entire ecclesial mystery . thus the Church, throughout her history, 'is by her very nature missionary' (LG, no. 17), in Christ and in virtue of the Spirit. All--pastors, -laymen, and religious, each according to his specific vocation--are called to be apostolically committed. This commitment arises from the love of the Father; the Holy Spirit, then nourishes it, "giving life to ecclesiastical structures, being as it were their soul, and inspiring in the hearts of the faithful the same spirit of mission which impelled Christ himself" (lAG 4], n. 15). 652 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 And the very next paragraph continues: Mission, which begins with the Father, requires that those who are sent exercise their awareness of love in the dialogue of prayer. Therefore, in these times of apostolic re-newal, as always in every form of missionary engagement, a privileged place is given to the contemplation of God to meditation on his plan of salvation, and to reflection on the signs of the times in the light of the gospel, so that prayer may be nourished and grow in quality and frequency (n. 16). As is clearly indicated in these passages, there is a radical personal level which the reality of mission reaches, a level which is more fundamental even than its corporate expression. It is to this more fundamental level that I would like to move in these reflections. It is at this level that mission is a faith-value that finds its ultimate ground in a person's presence to God, for it is at this level that mission does or does not become an existential reality, that is, an energizing and enlivening influence in the life of each follower of Christ. It is here that mission becomes part of the motivational structure of each religious. When we move to this level, we encounter mission as an interpersonal reality. For ultimately, mission is grounded in the reality of our relationships, our relationship with .the person who sends us and with the person(s) to whom we are sent. The strength and depth of our sense of mission then will depend upon the strength and depth of our relationship to the one who sends us. In other words, mission is intimately related to commitment. Mission and Commitment At the level of etymology, this interrelationship is clear. Both "mission" and "commitment" are radically from the Latin word, mittere, "to send." But it is at the level of our personal lives, as individuals responding to the Father's invitation to share his life and further his kingdom, that the truly in-timate relationship between mission and commitment becomes clear. The depth of our commitment to mission will depend upon the depth of our com-mitment to the One who sends us. When we speak about commitment, we are speaking about a reality that seems to be, at one and the same time, most personal, yet one which we can speak about rather impersonally. The very word commitment conjures up in our minds a feeling of security, a once-in-a-lifetime thing, a word that seems to "say it all"; and yet it also brings with it an unknown element, that dimen-sion of the cemmitted life that is revealed to us only in the living out of our lives. Commitment as Experienced The reality of commitment is best understood in terms of our personal ex-perience of it, in the context of our living of it. Indeed commitment is, and has been, a real dimension of our religious lives for however long we have been in religion. Mission and Commitment/ 653 If we ask ourselves just how it has been, and is now, a dimension of our lives, our first response might be to refer to that public act that we celebrated before the Church at the time of our final profession, one, ten, fifty years ago. Upon reflection, though I feel sure that we would not want to imply that this public act of commitment totally encompassed for us the full reality behind the words we uttered. That act, made once and renewed formally peri-odically, was, and is, simply an external sign, an outward expression of a deeper reality taking place in our hearts, at the level of our person. Commitment, then, has to do fundamentally with our person, with our presence to ourselves, with our awareness of ourselves. If commitment is to be more than an external act, it must flow from the ability each of us has to give ourselves not only in external acts but at the level of our awareness of who we are and who we are becoming; an awareness that is ours most clearly during those graced moments when we are frighteningly present to ourselves as we are before God, in naked truth and honesty. Commitment, then, has everything to do with ourselves, with our growing understanding of ourselves, a growth that takes place every day of our lives till the day we die, if we let it. Life itself is characterized by growth and change. Although this is quite obviously true with regard to our physical life, it is just as true, although not as immediately evident, in our lives as persons, as spiritual beings. It is in and through our lived experiences, that we grow in our understand-ing and acceptance of ourselves, that we grow as persons, a growth that has to influence the reality of the commitment we have made. It is our very per-son that we commit, that we give, ourperson that is alive and growing. And as we continue to experience life, as we grow in our self-understanding, we cannot help but come to a greater appreciation of what commitment means in our personal lives. The word "commitment," which, to an extent, remains impersonal, likb a skeleton, takes on flesh, begins to become incarnate in our real lives. Commitment and Spiritual Growth Just as our continued growth as persons influences our understanding of our commitment, so also is the opposite true. Where there is no personal 'growth, where an individual 'stagnates in his growth as a person, so also does his commitment become l~ss and less personal and more and more abstract. When this happens, his commitment runs the risk of becoming a cold and static reality, something that he begins to refer to in order to justify his com-placency and indifference towards his growth, as a justification for his lack of response to the ever present challenges of life, and as a justification for isolating himself more and more from his community, from the world. Under the false security of having "once and for all" committed himself, he can retire more and more into his own little world, becoming less and less sen-sitive to the life of the Spirit in the world, in the Church and in his fellow re- 654 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 ligious. Instead of commitment calling him to a greater giving of himself in the real-life situations of todaY,, instead of it calling him to a greater sense of mission, it becomes a needed excuse for seeing things only in terms that he finds personally acceptable, so that he becomes narrow-minded, unable to tolerate others. And because commitment ~ has become depersonalized and divorced from life,, it becomes, for him, something that must be expressed in the same way by all. ~ Commitment then has everything to do with our growth as persons, a growth that results more from.oiar attitudinal stance, than from our chrono-logical age. As a result, commitment can.be a truly influential and motivating force in our lives only to the extent that we are continually open to the life-giving Spirit who breathes where he will, to the Spirit who calls us to. deepen our relationship with Christ in the light of our growing understanding of our-selves. Commitment and Mission: the Person Who Is Sent Mission then is rooted in relationships. And the full reality of mission, which essentially involves the person who is sent, the person who sends and the person to whom he is sent, can well be described in interpersonal', rela-tional terms. First of all there is the relationship of the person~who-is-sent to the person:who-sends. At this personal level mission arid commitment are very intimately related, so ~that the depth and validity of our sense of mission will necessarily be related to the depth of our relationship to the person who sends us. Or, in 6ther words, our sense of mission is intimately related to our sense of commitment, a reality which has everything to do with our continual growth as persons. Ultimately, our personal sense of mission will depend upon the depth of the commitment of our person to the person of Jesus Christ in our lives. Now if our sense of mission is intimately related to our personal commit-ment to the one who sends us, then a fuller understanding of mission must necessarily include a more complete consideration of the commitment rela-tionship itself. And what surfaces in such a consideration is that the commitment rela-tionship is essentially bipolar, that is, one that necessarily includes not~ only we who give ourselves and who are sent, but also the person to whom we give ourselves, the person who sends. Commitment and Mission: the Person Who Sends Most religious and priests, if asked to express just who or what it is that they have committed themselves to, would probably answer in one of the fol-lowing ways: "I committed myself to God.-- to Jesus; I committed myself to serve God's people, to a particular way of life or' to a specific apostolate." Now while all of these responses are meaningful in themselves and are legiti- Mission and Commitment / 655 mate values to which we can commit ourselves, not all of them have the abili-ty to call forth from us a radical level of commitment that proceeds from our very person. Not all warrant a response from us or challenge us at the level of our person. In fact, there are certain things we commit ourselves to that never in themselves require more than a functional response on our part. However, when we think about our religious commitment, we are think-ing about a reality that does reach us at the level of our person. We are con, sidering Something that r.eally influences us not primarily at the level of what we do, but rather at the level of who we are, and of the kind of person we are becoming. The only reality we can commit ourselves to in such a way that it will reach us as persons, is the reality of another person. To be sure, we can and do commit ourselves to do things, to perform certain actions and rituals, and to.provide certain services. But these activities can be out of harmony with our basic personal commitment and instead of being expressions of our basic personal commitment and being a means of incarnating that commit-ment moreand more in our living situations, these activities can become ends in themselves and as a matter of fact, they can introduce into our lives a real dichotomy between what we do and who we really are. When this kind of situation arises, we begin to absolutize our activities. When speaking about commitment, we find ourselves always speaking about commitment to certain apostolates and activities, a type of commitment which is only a second-level commitment, since these activities of themselves do not necessarily reach us at the level of our person. When commitment has become primarily this kind of second-level commitment to functions and ac-tivities, no matter how good they are in themselves, commitment becomes an impersonal and static reality that no longer challenges to growth and to life. Rather, it becomes a reality which is continually threatened by persons who do things differently, or who do different things. Then, in the name of com-mitment, we can find ourselves becoming rather defensiv.e, distrustful and suspicious, becoming ever. more' cl.osed in on ourselves, more isolated, and hence with an ,ever narrowing sense of mission. To be sure, because mission is an e,ssential part of the call to follow Christ, Christian and religious commitment must o~bvigusly lead to doing things and to activity. The point is. that when w~ totally identify our Christian or religious commitment.wi.th ceriain activities or apostolates, then that com-mitment can become a hindrance .to our true personal growth in Christ, it can become an obstacle in.the way of what the Lord's love wants to do in our lives at the level of our hearts. Commitment to the Person Who Sends: Jesus Christ Now, while it is possible that commitment to things or activities can get in the way of our continued personal growth in the Lord's life, a sense of com-mitment is primarily a very positive influence in our spiritual life. However, it is this only to the degree that our commitment is to the person of God as he 656 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 reveais himself to us in his Son Jesus Christ. It is to the extent that it is to Jesus and to his life-giving word that we give ourselves, only to this extent does our commitment become radically personal and continually challenging at the level of the persons we are becoming and can become. When we become more and more personally aware of the fact that our primary commitment as religious is to the person of Jesus Christ who makes his love for us felt in the people and situations of our lives, we also become less hesitant to respond to new situations creatively, then we become less hesi-tant to act upon new insights both in our personal and communal lives. We are able to carry out our mission in an effective and creative way. Since it is to the living Lord that we have given ourselves and who missions us, it is to be expected that he will inspire us and continually lead us to new understandings of ourselves and of our deepening relationship with him, and both of these will of necessity have to find expression in the apostolic activities of our life. If we really believe that it is the Lord who is giving us this new under-standing, then we will have little hesitation oi" fear in allowing that new understanding to lead us to new activities, to new ways of doing things. The mere newness of these ways and activities will in no way cause us to feel that we are being unfaithful to our past or that what we did in the past was wrong or less than our best effort. The Lord normally calls us to grow in his life gradually, and it is only in the context of past experience and action that cer-tain new insights into the Lord's ways become possible. "Only if the seed die, will it bring forth new life." And only if we are free enough to let go of what we are, can we become what the Lord wants us to become. The more personally aware we become of the fact that our primary com-mitment is to the person of Jesus Christ, the less will we identify our religious selves with just activities and functions, the less will our sense of mission be limited to specific activities which must necessarily reflect the historical moment and culture in which they developed. Real life situations will always be changing, whether We like it or not. Unless we want to remove ourselves from life and begin to live in our own lit-tle world, a world that is real only in our own lives, we must as the Council has reminded us so strongly, continually read the signs of the times. However, although the situations in which we carry out our missions are going to be ever new, there is also a constant dimension in them. That con-stant dimension is our personal commitment to the person of Christ. Although we can't do much about most of our life situations, we can do quite a bit about the depth and sincerity of our commitment. And this is the kind of thing we do in prayer and in celebrating our faith life with those who share and experience the same love of God in their lives. As we grow in our awareness of the fact that our religious life is identified with this personal commitment to Christ and not with particular apostolates, practices and activities, then we can begin to allow our commitment to lead us to actions and attitudes that will make our Christian values just a little Mission and Commitment / 657 more incarnate in our changing life situations. Our commitment will give rise to and deepen our sense of mission. As we free ourselves from the slavery of our prejudices and preconceived ideas, we will be able to see more and more clearly what it is that the Lord wants us to do. We will begin to see that he really means it when he says that the heart of his message is love of God and love of neighbor. We will begin to appreciate that he really wants his fol-lowers to become one, to grow in true communion with others, and our sense of mission will become deepened and directed. Commitment, then, grounds our mission, and the depth of our personal commitment to the person of Christ, who sends us to tell all of the Father's love, will determine the depth of our sense of being sent and our willingness to be sent. Commitment and Mission: the Person(s) to Whom We Are Sent Having considered the person who is sent and the person who sends, in order to complete our reflection on the reality of mission, we must now turn to a consideration of the person or persons to whom we are sent. In a rather simplistic way, I would like to say that we are sent by Christ both to ourselves and to others. In saying this, I think that I have said an awful lot -- and have also left a lot unsaid. Sent to Ourselves In saying that we are sent to ourselves, I am not engaging in double-talk, nor stating a reality that is so obvious that it need not be mentioned. Rather what I am trying to describe is the fact that the good news of the Father's love which we are sent to communicate, is good news not only for others but also, and even primarily, for ourselves. Wecannot communicate the good news of the Father's love for all unless we have ourselves heard the good news and ac- .cepted it. As mentioned earlier, we are not sent in an impersonal way, after the fashion of mechanical instruments, but rather we are sent as the unique persons we are and are becoming. It is as persons loved into being by the Father and responding to that love in our own unrepeatable way, that we are sent to bring others the good news of the Father's love. And so before we bring the good news to others, we must hear and accept it ourselves. Through prayer and reflection we must constantly strive to be present to the promptings of God's life-giving Spirit as he tries to lead us ever more profoundly into union with the Father. The good news of the Father's love must continually confront us and challenge us to keep on dying to our old self, so that the new creature that the Lord would have us become might be born and mature. In a more traditional terminology we might say that we must be concerned about saving our own soul. The good news that we are sent to bring to others, then, is also, and first of all, good news for us personally. This is the sense in which we say that we are first of all sent to ourselves. 658 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 Sent to Others However, and perhaps more obviously, we are also sent to others. In Mt 28:18-20 we read: Jesus came forward and addressed them in these words: "Full authority has been given to me both in heaven and on earth; go, therefore, and make disciples of all the nations. Baptize them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Teach them to carry out everything I have commanded you and know that I am with you always till the end of the world" (confer also Lk 24:46-48; and Ac 1:8). ~ Clearly then, because it is in and through Christ that we have come to know the Father's love and have accepted the Father's invitation to share his life in faith, we also share in the mission he gave Christ, to witness to his love before all men. Because of our personal commitment to the person of Christ, we also share in his mission to the world. The "How. of Our Mission An obvious and legitimate question can be raised at this point in our re-flections, as to just how we carry out our mission .to others. How do we wit-ness to others of the love of the Father for them, and of the call they have to love each other? Of course this is the question that ultimately each of us must answer for ourselves in the light of our own personal salvation history andin the light of the real time and place in history where we are responding to the promptings of God's Spirit in out lives. , Even as we.acknowledge this radically personal dimension of the answer to this question of "how," we can also make some more general observations about this "how:" ¯ The first is that, if we are going to be true to the mission of Christ and not be sidetracked at some other level, we must, inall the different concrete situa-tions which make up the context of our lives, strive to witness to the reality of God's love among us. I know that this sounds trite, and that we have said it already. But yet we must really allow these familiar words to become opera-tive in our own evaluating of our daily life situations. Success or failur~ in our services or activities must ultimately be judged not so much according to whether or not we succeeded in doing what we set out to do, but rather in whether or not in our attempt to be of service we witnessed to the presence of God's love among us. Secondly, our ability to witness to the Father's love in the situations of our daily life, be they classrooms, hospital rooms, courtrooms, community rooms or wherever, will be dependent upon our own growing acceptance of the Father's love in our lives. No one can give what he doesn't have. And unless we are, in our own personal lives, secure in the Father's love, confident of our life in him and present to ourselves as we continually grow into the person God's Spirit wants us to be, we will not be able to respond creatively Mission and Commitment / 659 to the situations of our daily life in which we are called to witness to the Father's love, and the mission of Christ will be circumscribed by our limited perspectives. I guess what I am trying to say here is that there are two dimensions to our personal liveL One is the dimension of ourselves which we can call the core of our being, the "within," the person that we are and are becoming through our intimate involvement with God's life-giving Spirit. This is our ongoing attempt to ~become ever more present to ourselves, ever more in touch with the profound mystery of God's creative love which sustains each of us in our unique being. But if there is a "within," there is also a "without." There is also a very public dimension to our person. In fact, our very being as persons is "to-be-with." This is one of the mysterious realities of the spiritual life. While at first glance the person who gives himself over to a contemplative life-style seems to be isolating himself from others, in reality the more he becomes present to the real core of his being, the more he encounters the overpowering love of God in himself and the more he is aware of and present to that same love of God in others. As he gets more in touch with the core of his being, he discovers that "to-be" is really "to-be-with." There is,,then, a public dimension to our personal existence, and, as a re-sult, as persons we are necessarily called to give public witness to God's love. But in this sense,, our public witness is not something apart from our personal acceptance of the Father's love. Rather it is a necessary concomitant of it, since as persons, we are necessarily social, we are necessarily with others. Although we usually think of ourselves as witnessing to God's love, as carrying out our mission in terms of others who are not part of our immedi-ate, everyday surroundings, since as persons, we are necessarily "with others," by the sincerity and authenticity of our own personal growth in the Lord, we witness first of all to. those who are closest to us, to our brothers and sisters with whom we live in community, to our family, to those who, all too often, we take for granted because we are so frequently physically present to each other. Besides this. public dimension of our personal witness, there is also a pub-lic witness to the Father's love which comes in a communal way. The Church itself, as the body of Christ in time and space, and all the various structures which in the course of the ages have arisen as a means to help us to grow in the Lord, give a communal witness to the Father's love at work among us. Mission and Religious Congregations It appears that it is precisely this area of public communal witness, the area of corporate witness, that is giving rise today to rather serious and searching reflections in many religious congregations as they consider their institutional apostolates and discern their future commitment to them. As communities have begun to rewrite their constitutions, many are reflecting 660 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 upon their experience with "self-placement," and other attempts to involve individuals in a discerning process regarding their mission to specific aposto-lates. In this process, they have become aware of the need to acknowledge and identify, as clearly as possible, the ecclesial and corporate dimensions of mission as significant factors to be consciously brought into such a discerning. process. Indeed, without such conscious inclusion, the wide variety of activities and apostolates in which a community or an individual may engage, while good and productive in themselves, may be "de-spirited," that is, not enliv-ened by the inspired dynamic at work in the Church's carrying out of its mis-sion from Jesus its Lord, To be sure, in our rapidly changing world, in which religious in a special way have been asked to read and respond to the signs of the times, it is not a simple matter to discern which apostolates are legitimate extensions and ex-pressions of Jesus's mission at a particular time in history. For while the traditional apostolates are still very valid, we also know that new needs are arising that call for creative reponses in order to carry out the mission of Jesus in the world of today and tomorrow. Historically, the Spirit has en-riched the Church with religious communities which have been able to trans-late the mission mandate of Christ into ministries and apostolates that responded to the reality of particular ages, be it by redeeming slaves, by teaching the children of Catholic immigrants in the context of a pluralistic so-ciety, by providing medical care in underdeveloped countries, or by lobbying for issues of social justice. However, precisely because such a discerning process, reflecting as it does one's ecclesiology and understanding of the vows (especially obedience), is necessarily not a simple matter, congregations must resist the temptation to expedite and simplify the process either by not providing clear and challeng-ing ecclesial and congregational input to a person's discerning process, or by not taking a person's discerning process seriously. Persons, on the other hand, must search out this congregational and ecclesial input, and allow it to be a very significant dimension in their own discerning process. The current efforts being made by religious congregations to deal with the implications of their ecclesial reality for their congregational sense of mis-sion, are most encouraging. As congregations continue to address this area with greater intensity, they will find some direction and encouragement from the above mentioned document, "Directives for the Mutual Relations Be-tween Bishops and Religious in the Church," jointly issued by the Sacred Congregation for Keligious and Secular Institutes and the Sacred Congrega-tion for Bishops (see Chapter I I I, 10-12 and especially Chapter IV, 15-23). The entire second part of this document presents some directives and norms that deal with the practical aspects of such mutual relations. To get a sense of how this document could contribute to a congregation's discerning process, it might be helpful to cite a few of the directives. Mission and Commitment / 661 38. Major superiors will take great care not only to have a knowledge of the talents and possibilities of their religious btit also of the apostolic needs of the dioceses where their institute is called to work. Wherefore it is desirable that a concrete and global dialog be carried on between the bishop and the superiors of the various institutes present in the diocese, so that, especially in view of certain precarious situations and the persistent vo-cational crisis, religious personnel can be more evenly and fruitfully distributed. 40 . Bishops, in dialog with religious superiors and with all who work in the pastoral sector of the diocese, should try to discern what the Spirit wills and should study ways to provide new apostolic presences, so as to be able to deal with the difficulties which have arisen within the diocese. The search, however, for this renewal must not in the least lead to a depreciation of the still actually valid forms of apostolate, which are properly traditional, such as that of the.school (see S. Congregation for Catholic Education, The Catholic School March 19, 1977), of the missions, of effective presence in hospitals, social services, etc. All of these traditional forms, moreover, must be, without delay, suitably updated according to the norms and guidelines of the Council and the needs of the times. 41. Apostolic innovations, which are later to be undertaken, should be planned with careful study. On the one hand, it is the duty of the bishops through their office not in-debd to extinguish the Spirit, but to test all things and hold fast to what is good (see l Th 5, 12 and 19-21; LG 12), in such a way however, "that the spontaneous zeal of those who engage in this work may be safeguarded and fostered" (.4G 30); religious superiors on their part, should cooperate actively and dialog with the bishops in seeking solutions, in arranging the programming of choices made, in launching experiments, even com-pletely new ones, always acting in view of the most urgent needs of the Church and in , conformity with the norms and directives Of the Magisterium and according to the nature of their institute. Together with such guidelines, congregations must themselves, through their own reflective processes, arrive at clarity and consistency regarding their own understanding and usage of those potentially confusing phrases that often surface when a congregation considers how "mission" finds expression in its corporate life. I am referring here to phrases like, "corporate mission," "corporate witness," "corporate ministry," "institutional commitment," all of which perhaps need to be "unpacked" and reflected upon in the light of the congregation's own understanding of its charism and ecclesial reality. The necessity of institutions for the carrying out of certain, apostolates is obvious. However, given the changes in the society to which we are missioned to proclaim and witness to the Father's love, it might be necessary at least to raise the question as to whether or not institutions as such have become ends in themselves, institutions, that is, whose continued existence is justified more and more from their own intrinsic merits and strengths than from their relationship to the furthering of the mission of Christ. Honest struggling with these questions should help congregations to clari-fy, identify, and own just which dimensions of their institutional apostolates do incarnate their public communal witness to the Father's love and, in doing so, give the congregation some significant input for whatever process they 662 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 engage in, in trying to digcern l~he missioning of the congregation's personnel and the expediture of its financial resources. However even at this level of concern for a congregation's public com-munal witness, I think it is important to remember that since the community consists simply of persons coming together in the Spirit to share with and live out their common faith-vision, the vitality of a congregation,s public com-munal witness will also necessarily reflect the quality of the personal witness of the members of the community. Conclusion The thrust of these reflections has been to surface the essential inter-personal and relational dimensions of the reality of mission. For it is this di-mension which to a great extent grounds the ability of mission to be a truly enlivening reality of our Christian living. Because the phenomenon of mis-sion involves three persons, the person who is sent, the person who sends and person to whom he is sent, one's sense of mission and willingness to be sent will be very much rooted in his relationship to the person who sends. In other words mission is very intimately related to commitment, so that the quality of our Christian mission will be dependent upon the quality of our commitment to the person of Je'stis Christ who shares his mission with us. As a result, when religious, both personally and communally, enter a pro-cess to discern where and how they should carry out the mission that Christ shares with them, their process of discernment must include a very real sensi-tivity to the input of the Church -- especially the local church -- where alone one's mission is actually carried out. And it is this ecclesial input that will help r~ligious avoid the subtle dangers of becoming more concerned with self-perpetuation than with proclaiming and witnessing to the kingdom. And, correspondingly, it is a serious responsibility of the Church -- especially the local church -- to create and foster those structures that will enable it to sur-face and articulate its pastoral needs in a realistic and credible way. But, even more fundamentally, before religio6s, either personally or com-munally, can engage in such a legitimate process of discernment, one that'is aimed at discerning the will of the Father, they must already be in a loving and living prayerful relationship 'with the Lord. They must have already com-mitted their very selves to the person of Jesus. As' followers of Christ, we are necessarily on mission. While for religious this mission does receive some definite specifications in the light of congrega-tional charisms, still, the full reality of their mission must ~lso, necessarily, flow from and reflect its ecclesial, Christic and Trinitarian roots. Which is to say that ultimately for religious, as for 'all Christians, the quality of our sense of mission and our willingness to be sent, are very inti-mately tied up with our personal relationship with and commitment to the person who sends us, the person of Jesus Christ. For, like the Trinity itself, our mission is'rooted ultimately in relationships. Three Questions for the Spiritual Journey Joel Gia//anza, C.S.C. Brother Giallanza has contributed to these pages previously. His article, "The Counsels of John of the Cross Revisted," appeared in our January, 1978 issue~ He continues to reside at Holy Cross Novitiate; Bennington, VT 05201. Asking a question implies searching for an answer; also it implies a desire for the knowledge and valfie inherent in the answer. As expressions of a commitment to the spiritual journey, questions can be effective channels for.discovering ways in which the Lord has been and is operative in each one's life. Most of the great mystics do not use questions as a structural basis for their writings. However; they do seem to be addressing a query that could be formulated thus: "What is your experience of God in your own life?" Within this experiential context, mystical writers offer the reader profound glimpses into their relationships with God. Admittedly this is not the only query that shapes the writings of these authors. Other, more specific, questions emerge as they articulate their understanding of the spiritual life. Questions pertaining to each one's own spiritual journey should be neither accidental nor random. Haphazard questioning can have a significant impact on the direction that one takes; it can result in one's losing sight of the journey's end--union with the Lord. Questions for the journey rather should facilitate choices which have to be made, should be a guide along the road, should offer the support and the challenge necessary to continue faithfully even when the road is dark. Where can such questions be found? The spiritual journey is a move- 663 664 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 ment toward union with the Lord. Our questions, then, should come from the Lord himself. He alone gives the gi'ace to discern choices, to find support along the road, and to bring light to the darkness. This reflection will focus on three questions which come from the Lord and which seem to be of special importance for the spiritual journey. Identifying the Lord The first question is itself posed in the context of a journey: specifically, Jesus and his disciples are entering the district of Caesarea Philippi. First Jesus asks his disciples who others believe him to be; then, after a variety of responses, he asks the disciples themselves: "But who do you say that I am?" (Mr 16:13-15 and parallels). The question is a crucial one, an identi-fying one; the response to it immediately identifies each one's faith in, and relationship with, Jesus of Nazareth. This identification is fundamental to the spiritual life. It specifies the end point toward which the spiritual journey tends. Above all, it is a statement of faith. Faith is a lived reality. Its core is made visible by the whole of one's life, through one's attitudes, decisions, commitments, relationships. Contem-porary Christians, just as the disciples, must also confront this question, in faith, for it is ever-present. "Who do you say that I am?" Clearly, it is present as one prays, either individually or in a worshiping community. It is present in everyday decisions and encounters, as well as in those which have an impact on one's life beyond a single day, week, month, or year. In short, it is present throughout the spiritual journey. All of life responds, in some way, to it. The movement of the text in which this question appears is from general ("who do others say. ?") to particular ("who do you say. ?"). The disciples, doubtless, had been influenced by what others were saying about Jesus; hence, their answers to the generalized question. The challenge of the more particular question, however, is to respond personally on the basis of their own experience. So too, for contemporary Christians, the influence of others has some bearing on the development of personal faith; eventu-ally, however, the question must be addressed on the. basis of one's own faith and experience. The spiritual life, as a personal relationship with God, must contain a response to Jesus on a personal level. Finally, the identification of '~who Jesus is" in and for one's life is inseparable from the Paschal Mystery. "From that time Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things from the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised" (Mt 16:21 and parallels). To identify Jesus, in the words of Peter, as "the Christ, the Son of the Living God" is to accept the cross-and-resurrection. The Lordship of Jesus and his accomplishment of the Father's will by dying and rising are one. And so, the spiritual journey begins. One's vision of its end and of the road to be taken is focused sharply in each one's response to the question of Jesus: "But who do you say that I am?" Three Questions for the Spiritual Journey / 665 Acknowledging the Lord The first question, the identifying question, is not asked in a vacuum. It leads to, and is supported by, another question: "Do you know what I have done to you?" (Jn 13:12). The immediate scriptural context of this question" is the Last Supper, after Jesus had washed the disciples' feet. In this simple action, he gives them an example of how they are to serve others. For the spiritual journey, the response to this question is the acknowl-edgment and recognition of what the Lord has done in one's life; it is the recognition of specific graces that are given to each one throughout his life. This acknowledgment and recognition flow from, and support, what has gone before. To acknowledge the graces one has been given implies some identification of the Giver; to recognize those graces strengthens one's faith in Jesus as Lord. The gospel itself affirms this interdependence of the two questions; immediately after asking this second question, Jesus states: "You call me Teacher and Lord; and you are right, for so I am" (Jn 13: 13). Beyond its appearance in the context of the Last Supper, this question can refer to Jesus' entire life. In a sense, he is asking an all-pervasive question: "Do you know what I have done to you?" since you have been with me and I with you~uring all that has happened (will happen) to us since the beginning of my ministry? In this larger context the disciples must reflect on all that has taken place. They must begin to. see Jesus' life and ministry as a single incarnate expression of the Father's love. Jesus is the Exemplar (Jn 13:15), the one to whom.all Christian lives must point. This question, too, must be particularized. The Lord's actions surely have affected all people, but each in a unique way. The acknowledgment of that unique way in which the Lord has been operative in one's life shapes the response to this question. This is to know what the Lord has done. The second question appears very near the end of Jesus' life; thus, it, too, points to the cross-and-resurrection. The graces which one receives throughout life are intrinsically bound to the drama of Salvation History. Indeed, the gifts which the Lord bestows upon his people--individually and collectively~raw their power from his passion, death, and glorification. And so, the spiritual journey continues. Complete dependence on the Lord, by acknowledging his gifts, is highlighted in response to the simple, yet pervasive, question: "Do you I~now what 1 have done to you?" Seeking the Lord Jesus' first two questions are a type of prelude to his third. To identify Jesus in one's life, and to acknowledge his gifts, are the means of respond-ing to a final question: "Whom do you seek?" (Jn 18:4). This is asked by Jesus in the garden just prior to his arrest; his boldness stuns those who seek him, and so Jesus repeats himself. This question must remain a constant traveling companion on the spiri-tual journey. It must be answered again and again, at every fork in the road, as the spiritual life progresses. Its purpose, clearly, is to keep one's sight 666 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 fixed on the Lord alone. Thus, it is the raison d'etre for the entire spiritual ¯ journey. At any point .along the way, regardless of what one is doing, the manner in which his life is lived a.ctually proclaims his response to the 'question: "Whom do you seek?" That night, those who were seeking Jesus (to arrest him) were caught up in their movement as a crowd. It would have been~interesting to go through that crowd and ask each, indiviOually, whom he was seeking. Some may not have really known. Judas did, but he did not search alone. As odd as it may seem, a parallel can be drawn for the spiritual journey. Faith and gifts from the Lord can be. taken for granted, and so one can easily be caught up in merely doing what everyone else is doing. Then Jesus' question really has not been heard. Like the previous questions, this one ~must be particu-larized. To fix one's sight on the Lord alone clarifies the response; the alternatives are confusion and uncertainty. It is not to be inferred that confusion and uncertainty are never to be experienced in the spiritual life. Rather, the point here is that one's basic response is stable. From its context in the Gospel of John, it is obvious that this question leads to the cross-and-resurrection. To seek the Lord is to accept all that the Paschal Mystery e[atails. In a prophetic waY, Sirach emphasized this some two centuries before: My son, if you come forward to serve the Lord, prepare yourself for trials" (2: I). To seek the Lord leads to life, but it is a life that is born through death (Jn 12:24-25). And so the spiritual journey continues. At any moment and every moment, the Christian must know the road being traveled; constancy must be the hallmark of each one's response to the questibn: "Whom do you seek?" In Response Every Christian must respond in some way to these three questions of the spiritual journey. The ways in which each identifies, acknowledges, and seeks the Lord will be unique, based on personality, talents, experience, life-situation. Nevertheless, a common thread does run through all re-sponses. In the opening lines of his first letter, St. John makes a statement that addresses effectively all three questions. That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon and touched with our hands, concerning the word of life--the life was mb.de manifest, and we saw it, and testify to it, and proclaim to you the eternal life which was with the Father and was made manifest to us--that which we have seen and heard we proclaim also to you. so that you may have fellowship with us;and our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son; Jesus Christ (1:1-3). Consider each question, and then read this text as a response. Jesus is identified as "the word of life"; he is acknowledged as the sour~:e of all that Three Questions for the Spiritual Journey / 667 has been received; and, he is the end toward which the proclamation points. Jesus is the common thread. It is beyond the scope of this brief reflection to explore this text in any depth; but one point in particular is worthy of note. Tactility and sensibility are emphatic elements of this text. The one about whom these things are written is known through experience: "heard," "seen," "looked upon," and "touched." These elements strengthen the testimony that is given. From his own experience, St. John proclaims "'the word of life," and invites others to "fellowship with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ." Responding to these questions throughout one's own spiritual journey must be the fruit of experience; it cannot be the result of academic gymnas-tics. These questions warrant a commitment, a fidelity to the spiritual journey. Only then does one's life--testimony, proclamation--identify Jesus as Lord, acknowledge his gifts, and seek him alone. Conclusion Three simple questions, Simple, yet interdependent. Simple, yet for the spiritual life they can be viewed as the most significant questions in the New Testament. To identify Jesus in one's life, to acknowledge what he has done and is doing, and to seek him above all else these constitute the spiritual journey. And, as always, the roads along which the journey pro-gresses are paved with the cross,and-resurrection. The spiritual journey requires onlyfidelity. That fidelity is incarnated through the Christian's lived response to the Lord's questions: "But who do you say that I am?" "Do y9u know what I have done to you?W .h.om do you seek?" Write a Gospel John Navone, S.J. Father Navone has written previously for REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. He continues to teach theology atthe Gregorian University; Piazza della Pilotta, 3; 00187 Roma, Italy. The Church employs the gospels as means for communicating and cultivat-ing its foundational experience of the love of God in Jesus Christ and in his Spirit given to us. A gospel is not an end in itself; it is meant to be used for fosteripg that gift of God's love which is the life of the Church. A gospel is written to serve the purpose of the grace and demand of God's transcendent love in Jesus Christ and his Church; it articulates and objectifies the meaning and value and demands of this love for us, both as individuals and as a com-munity. It symbolizes the call of a transcendent love empowering and sum-moning individuals to transcend themselves by accepting its grace and de-mand for life within the Christian community. Similarly, it symbolizes God's transcendent love summoning the Christian community to transcend itself in communicating its foundational experience to the world in iis distinctive ser-vice of the world. In a series of conferences given at the Gregorian University, in December 1978, Carlo Martini, S.J., sustained the working hypothesis that the four Gospels function as four manuals which correspond to the needs of four dis-tinct moments in the formation of the Christian. Adapting this hypothesis to the realm of God's self-investing love which the New Testament witness sym-bolizes, I suggest that Mark serves as the Christian community's manual for introducing the catechumen to the mystery of God's self-investing love in Jesus Christ. Matthew functions as the catechist's manual for helping the newly baptized to live according to the exigences of this self-investing love within the Church. Luke-Acts is the two-volume manual for learning how to bear witness to the meaning and value of this love for the world. John is Write a Gospel / 669 employed as .the manual for the grand synthesis of the mature Christian who has lived out the demands of this self-investing love in following Jesus and his (~hurch in the service of the world and now asks what is at the heart of his Christian experience. The self-investing dynamic of God's love is understood to be the origin and ground and destiny of the Jesus story, the Church story, and the world story. Not to have grasped this is to have missed the point of the dynamic which constitutes their ultimate meaning and value. Commu-nion with God implies a participation in the dynamic of his self-investing love on a level prior to that on which doctrinal systems and organized institutions arise. The Gospels symbolize the realm of God's unrestricted love to which humankind is constitutively oriented by presenting Jesus as God's self-revela-tion, or Word. They summon us to follow Jesus in his fundamental self-others- world-Mystery relationship for the authentic fulfillment of our humanity. The authenticity of our response to Jesus' injunction to love God above all else finds its measure in the deeds by which we follow his way to human authenticity through self-investing love for the neighbor. Writing a gospel is one way of learning to use a gospel for discovering the quality of our relationship to the transcendent love of God in Jesus Christ, in his Church, and in his world. Jesus symbolizes the meaning and value of this love, what it does and what it does not. The way we tell his story implies the way we comprehend the purpose of God's love in ourselves, others, and the world. The storyteller is in his storytelling. The gospel writer tells us about himself in telling us his story of Jesus. At the beginning of a course I teach on the spirituality of the gospels, I have had my students write a gospel in order to come to some experiential un-derstanding of what it means to be the author of a gospel. For an appropriate psychological state, they were to imagine that all the New Testaments throughout the world had been destroyed and that theirs would be the one and only written link with the original four gospels. They were to write their own synoptic gospel, using only the words of the four actual gospels. The ti-tle of the gospel would be "The Gospel According to (Student's Name)." Not more than two thousand words were allowed for telling the Good News. Each gospel was to have an architectonic unity, at least one parable, one mir~acle, one saying of Jesus. Between a fourth and a fifth of the gospel had to treat of the passion and death of Jesus. When the gospels had been written, they were exchanged. Each student wrote a commentary on the gospel that was given to him aimed at discerning (1) the portrait of Jesus and (2) the portrait of the author. What is the mean-ing and value of Jesus for the writer of this gospel? At what levels of con-sciousness does Jesus speak to the author? What does the author expect of Jesus? At ~what level of personal need does Jesus encounter the author? What is the author's particular interest in Jesus? What is his particular feeling toward Jesus? General questions for a critical reading of these gospels -- to help discern 670 / Review for R'eligious, Volume 38, 1979/5 the portrait of Jesus and of the author -- are the following, 1. Make a list of all the verbs which describe the agency of Jesus. What Jesus does in the gospel implies what he does for the author of the gospel. The author implies that Jesus will do this also for the reader of his gospel. 2. What does Jesus say in this gospel? This is what the author h~ears Jesu.s saying and, therefore, implicitly expects his reader to hear the same Jesus ad-dressing him with the same words. 3. Is the Risen Christ active in this .gospel? Does the gospel end with Jesus' resurrection from.the dead? ~ 4.How does the author see Jesus' basic self-others-world-God r~lationships? Is Jesus regarded as more solitary than social? As more receptive than active? As more suffering than joyful? As more among women than among men? As more among friends than among adversaries? As more a speaker than a doer? As more often rebuking than encouraging? As more often criticizing than approving? As more demanding than accepting? As more comprehen-sibly human than mysteriously divine? As more courageously confronting difficult situations than being welcomed by admiring followers? The original evangelists do not exclude one or the other of these elements in creating their balanced portrait of Jesus as both their crucified and risen Lord, illuminating the mystery which defines every human life. On the one hand, Jesus symbolizes the grace of God's love accepting persons wherever they are; on the other hand, he symbolizes the summons of that gracious love to transcend what we are in becoming sons of God. Some students wrote a gospel in which the third person prevails, creating the perspective of a detached spectator. Their avoidance of the second person suggests th~ absence of a personal relationship with the crucified and risen Jesus. It suggests that ~hey do not h~ar him speaking to them today. Luke's gospel, in contrast, underscores the ever-present grace and demand of God's love: "Today this scripture has been fulfilled even as you listen" (4:21); "To-day I must stay at your home" (19:5); "Today salvation has come to this house" (19:9); "Today you shall be with me in Paradise" (23:43). Luke's use of the second person, his use of such words as "today" and "now," implies that the transcendent realm of God's love, symbolized by the entire story of Jesus, is ever-present and summoning us. Its reality and goodness actually touch Luke's existence as an individual within the community of Christian faith, inspiring him to write a gospel about it for others. His gospel thema-tizes the immediacy of an understanding beyond words, his religious cgnver-sion, the love which he has received and accepted as the integrating center of his life. , The exercise of writing a gospel helps the writer to discover those areas of life that are most affected by the meaning and value of God's love in Jesus Christ. The writer should treasure whatever dimension of the Good News that especially moves or interests him. This is its special value for him. This is the particular sector of his consciousness where the mystery of God's love Write a Gospel / 671 finds itsl point of entry into his life; consequently, it must be cultivated with care so as to become frtlitful. Its fruitfulness will vary with the cultivation it receives. The radicalism of the New Testament message is an ideal towards which growth will always be slow and often uncertain. Inasmuch as our ac-tion must always be within the 'limits of possibility, a rigorism that would challenge us beyond our powers is counterproductive. Discouragement is the temptation of temptations. One person'~s effective freedom is limited to such a way that he cannot' achieve what many others find feasible. The focus of the gospel-summons is on the use, rather than measure, of our effective freedom. It challenges us to stretch the limits of our freedom, but not to the breaking-point. It manifests a readiness to meet us wherever we happen.to be and to lead us on from there. As William ~V. Dych notes: "What must I do to gain eternal life," Jesus is asked in the Gospel story. What I must do might be quite different from what somebody else,must do, and I am the one who has to discover it in the particular configuration of concrete circumstances which make up my life and existence. There is no antecedent blueprint~ in a book somewhere simply to be Copied or imitated. In fact, when "living by the book" makes me miss the very concrete realities rigl~t there before my eyes, then "the letter kills," as St. Paul says.' The most severe threats of the Gospel are for those who do not want to be led at all, those committed to the illusion of self-sufficiency: But alas for you who are rich: you are having your consolation now: Alas for you who have your fill now: you shall go hungry. Alas for you who laugh now: you shall mourn and weep. Alas for you when the world speaks well of you! This was the way their ancestors treated the false prophets (Lk 6:24-26). The gospels are rich in pedagogical resources for cultivating the gift of God's love at the 'many different levels where we had become conscious of its presence and summons. No situation of human life is too extreme to bein-cluded within the scope of its redemptive purpose. It implicitly invites every-one to write his own ,gospel within the effective limits of our freedom for responding to the gift of God's love in our basic :self-others-world-God rela-tionships. It invites us to witness to its reality and goodness. The exercise of writing a gospel, using only the words of the four evange-lists, has the advantage of not taxing the creative resources of individuals. The gospels provide a basic lingua franca which we may employ to describe our relationship to the mystery which defines our lives. The use of this lingua francarespects the privacy of the writer, who might not wish to publicize the events of his interior life; at the same time, it permits the individuality of the writer's perspective to emerge in the selection of material. The writer does not have to invent a religious language, or a set of religious symbols. The number of words is arbitrary; however, the fewer permitted, the more radical the 'William V. Dych, "The Logic of Faith,'" America 140 (March 19, 1979), p. 219. 672 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 selectivity and the clearer the manifestation of the writer's perspective. Students writing a gospel are generally unaware of how self-revealing their gospels are. The experience of becoming a synoptic writer of a gospel creates a context for a meaningful discussion of the process that brought the first four gospels into existence, and of the relation of this process to the reli-gious conversion which occurs in the immediacy of the subject's conscious-ness, in a supraconceptual, existential experience beyond words. Only when religiously transformed subjectivity begins to mediate itself through mean-ing, myth, narrative, stories of God and the like can religious community take rise. This mediation of conversion through the objectification of its meaning provides the context for the Church's use of the New Testament. Writing our own parables is an exercise related to that of becoming con-temporary synoptic gospel writers. In this exercise, however, students were not expected to use the texts of the New Testament. They were to compose a story, based on their own personal experience, to communicate one dimen-sion of their lived understanding of what it means to receive and share the gift of God's love. Creating our own parables is doing what Jesus did; in some respects, it can express a greater fidelity to the Gospel truth than the merely mechanical repetition of Jesus' parables. John Drury relates that the poet Edwin Muir in his autobiography saw his own life as a narrative on the two levels of individual difference and shared mystery, calling them story and fable.~ Story refers to a man's biography where fact is linked to fact: birth and parents, changes of address, marriage and jobs. It marks him off from other people. It is his alone. But the fable is always impinging on it. This is chain of images and archetypes which we do not entirely understand and which only become clear in dreams, visions and myths: the country of innocence, the fall, the journey and transfiguration. Thus story tells us that when the poet was a boy, the Muir family moved from a good farm on the Orkneys to a bad one, and then to Glasgow. But what is happening in the realm of fable is a fall from innocence into experience and alienation. It is in the realm of fable that we have our deepest connections with one another. In biography we are distinct. It must be to the fable that his Wife Willa refers when she says that "he never ceased to believe that his expe-rience resembled the experience of everyone else living on earth.''3 The quality of our experience ultimately determines the shape of our autobiographies, biographies, histories, novels, parables, stories of God, the-ologies. We express in these manifold ways what can be found within our conscious experience on successive, related, but qualitatively different levels: the empirical on which level we sense, perceive, imagine, feel, speak, move; the intellectual level on which we inquire, come to understand, express what we have understood, work out the implications and presuppositions of our 2John Drury, Angels and Dirt (London: Dhrton, Longman & Todd, i972) p. 50. Write a Gospel / 673 expressions; the rational level, on which we reflect, marshal the evidence, judge the truth or falsity, certainty or probability, of a statement; the respon-sible level on which we are concerned with ourselves, our own operations, our goals, and so ddiberate about possible courses of action, evaluate them, de-cide and carry out our decisions.' Our manifold ways of storytelling, of phi-losophizing and of theologizing, are indices of what is going on at the four levels of our consciousness and inten.tionality; they are objectifications of our conscious intending of the true and the real, of the good and the worthwhile, as unique individuals with a unique history. As such, they are objectifications which are not deduced from abstract laws about human nature in general; rather, they derive from the concrete life-stories of individuals in search of true meaning and value. The authenticity of our lives grounds the authentici-ty of the manifold ways in which we objectify our search. 'Bernard Lonergan, Method in Theology (London: Darton, Longman & Todd, 1972), p. 9. See also T. Patrick Burke, "The Theologian as Storyteller and Philosopher," Horizons 4/2 (1977), p. 207. Response to Psalm 137 How sing a song of the Lord in a foreign land? With muted voice probably, With tear-stained cheek most likely, With" breaking heart no doubt. But the Lord lives. So sing, then! Take your harp from the aspen tree! Sing not for your captors. Sing to the Lord who loves, Sing to the Lord who listens! Brother Franklin Cullen, C.S.C. Moreau High School 27170 Mission Blvd. Hayward, CA 94544 Jesus Christ, the Mediator of Catholic Charismatic Life Frederick J. Deters, S.J. Father Deters is an assistant professor of theology at Loyola University (Chicago). He resides in the Jesuit community there, 6525 North Sheridan Rd.; Chicago, IL 60626. Periodically there have appeared through Church history numerous men and women, individually and in groups, claiming to be filled with the Holy Spirit but all the while separating themselves from the unity of that Spirit as he was working in God's People. Most of us have heard of the Montan-ists, the Albigensians and the Joachimites--to cite only a few. Such knowledge of the past should dispose us to careful discernment when it comes' to accepting the inspirations oF yet others today who also claim to be Spirit-filled. But we must remember that spiritual discernment is not a form of natural cynicism. Those whom the Gospel calls to the shrewdness of serpents, are also summoned to the simplicity of doves and the openness of children. The point I am making here is that we can do without phony enthusiasm or false mysticism, but we cannot do without the Holy Spirit and his ,gifts. Vatican 1I was explicit in reaffirming the giftedness of all God's chil-dren. There, Catholic pastors were encouraged to see that the people were in fact led by the Spirit of God and that the charisms of each Christian be recognized and readily employed for the upbuilding of Christ's Body. Catholic life is charismatic life. In the true meaning of the words, the Catholic Church has been, and will continue to be. charismatic--or it will cease to be the Church of Christ on pilgrimage to the Father. Though in the past the various charisms have. in theologizing within Roman Catholicism, 674 Jesus Christ, the Mediator of Catholic Charismatic Life / 675 been.chiefly linked with both religious orders and ecclesial offices, there has never been lacking individual persons recognized for possessing the gifts of the Spirit. In such individuals, however, the genuineness of the gifts was ever attested by the loyalty and obedience with which they submitted to the guidance and direction of their communities and pastors. Given the: tension that must ever prevail between certain charisms and the exercise of, ecclesial offices, what, if anything, can theology point to as a touchstone for understanding their mutual harmony' and interaction? I am convinced that the answer to this question can be nothing or no one other than Jesus Christ, our One Lord and Mediator. In the following pages I propose a new look at both the Lordship and the mediatorial activity of Jesus Christ. As Jesus acts through the charismatic life of his people, he reveals the true character of his Lordship. At the same time, his authentic sovereignty manifests his mediation of life in charismatic activity. ~ What Does the Lordship o~ Jesus Mean? The emphasis that marks Catholic rehewal today is an ancient acclama-tion of faith: "Jesi~s is Lord!" This confession is chanted, sung and pro-claimed, not only by increasing numbers of men and women in the United States, but, ttiroughout th~ world. From early Christian times, it was the credal formula used in cofijunction with sacramental baptism. This practice was in evidence in the Roman Chur~:h. In his epistle tothe Romans, Paul writes: "For if you confess with y?ur lips that Jesus is Lord, and believe in your hearts that God raised~ him from the dead, you will be saved.''~ Baptism by im'mersion folloffed this professionl the descent into the water symbolizing death with Christ to a world of sin, the emergence from the pool manifesting a new walk with Christ in risen life. The washing both symbolized and celebrated the actual washing away of sin by the life-giving action of the Holy Spirit. God, the Blessed Trinity, was seen by faith to fill the" new Christian with his presence and life. Christian baptism was the authentic sign of°faith. Even so, the ,newly baptized and the com-munity gathered with him or her in celebration knew that this marked but the start ofc0mmunion with God's life. The ceremony brought with'it, a call tb live as Christ had lived, and, as the gra'ced opportunity was given, to die as he had died; to suffer death, that is, by witnessing to the hope of i:esur-rection. " ~ As the early Church lived and grew, Christians continued to know the power of ihi~ Lord's presence within them. In a true sense, there was no need for'anyone to tell these men'and women to "'know the Lord." They knew him and found a deep and salutary relationship with him in their lives. But they also knew one another through him just as they knew him through ~Ro 10:9. 676 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 one another by reason of his ongoing action in their midst. For Jesus continued to teach, direct, and sanctify through them. Their knowledge that God was interiorly within them as individuals was accompanied likewise by their awareness in faith that they were in Christ and that even the world of physical nature and material reality found its center in him. In fact, Jesus was known as Lord, not only of the visible elements of the Christian community, but of the external universe as well. He was Lord of all things, both visible and invisible. Paul voices this conviction when he speaks of the fullness of God in Christ: He is the image of the invisible God, the first born of all creatures. In him everything in'heaven and on earth was created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominations, principalities or powers; all were created through him, and for him. He is before all else that is. In him everything continues in being. It is he who is head of the body, the Church; he who is the beginning, the firstborn of the dead, so that primacy may be his in everything. It pleased God to make absolute fullness reside in him and by means of him, to reconcile everything in his person, both on earth and in the heavens, making peace through the blood of his cross.2 For Paul, the Lordship of Jesus is always related to Christ's humble obedience unto death. Just as the whole universe is depicted in the Epistle to the Romans as being in slavery to decadence due to sin, so the universe has, objectively speaking, been freed by Christ's death and is now in a process of renewal under his risen Lordship. But the Lordship of Jesus, whereby creation is renewed, represents a dominion won through Christ's suffering and death. This is also the theme of Philippians, Ch~apter 2, where Jesus' obedience unto death wins for him the title of Lord, the Name above every other name. Commenting on this latter passage, Robert Faricy writes: "In. his death Jesus descends into the heart of the world so that, in his resurrection, he can be the heart of the world, Lord in a true and even ontological sense, not simply appointed or named juridically, but Lord in such a way that to uproot him would be to make the world cease to exist.'''~ From this perspective Jesu~ has won his Lordship. He secured spiritual freedom from the dominion of the world of sin, death and the devil; not in the sense that he was personally held by these things; but, that vicariously he endured the Sufferings due to our sins in his own human nature in order that we might share his Lordship, his fieedom from them. So when the Christian, either of Paul~s time or our days says--"Jesus is Lord"--he professes the spiritual freedom of Christ in which his profession leads him to share. Since Jesus' Lordship is one that proclaims the reconciliatibn of every-thing, the Christian is called to a freedom that knows no base subjection to :Col 1:15-20. aFrank A. Sullivan, S.J., and Robert Faricy, S.J., lgnatian Exercises---Charismatic Renewal (Rome: Centrum lgnatianum Spirituatitatis, 1977). p. 36. Jesus Christ, the Mediator of Catholic Charismatic Life / 677 anything or anyone for their own sakes. The Christian is one who belongs to Christ himself: "All things are yours, but you are Christ's and Christ is God's!''4 So we all await that moment when at last Christ will hand over the kingdom to the Father and God will be all in all) The paradoxical converse of this, however, is that Christ's Lordship calls the Christian to spiritual freedom through the same kind of humble obedience that led Christ to surrender his very life into the Father's hands for our sake. It seems to be in this same spirit that Paul tells the Ephesians: "Defer to one another out of reverence for Christ.''6 And Peter's First Epistle calls upon Christians not only to be subject to church officials but to "every human institution" . . . "because of the Lord" for ~'such obedi-ence is the will of God." 7 Note that in all these cases subjection is rendered ¯ out of deference to Christ, who for the sake of our freedom took the form of a slave. As the Gospel account insists, Christ came not so much to be served, but to serve in the sense of giving his life as a ransom for many. To be authentic, our participation in Christ's Lordship will involve a share in his cross. Our service for each other will entail a daily crossbearing; it will ~ilso involve subjection, out of love for Christ the Lord. Jesus Provides Gifts for Service and Freedom Here we have come to the heart of Jesus' mediatorial activity for the Mystical Body. Insofar as we know the presence of Christ among us com-munally as well as within us individually, we long for the total celebration of that life in communal fellowship. It is for such a life that Christ provided by the distribution of the charisms and charismatic gifts of the Holy Spirit. What is a charism? It is a gift given foi service of some kind. It is a new and special way of relating to the Lord. At the same time, it is a call to serve with the power of the Holy Spirit given to fulfill that call. The word "charism," from the Greek word meaning gift, appears frequently in the Pauline writings of the New Testament. There are a number of references that we might cite; for our purposes here we will limit ourselves for the present to an examination of Paul's epistle to the Ephesians: Each of us h'as received God's grace in the measure in which Christ bestows it. Thus you find Scripture saying: "When he ascended on high, he took a host of captives and gave gifts to men." He ascended--what does this mean but that he first descended into the lower regions of the earth? He who descended is the very one who ascended high above the heavens, that he might fill all men with his gifts. Then Paul continues by telling us what some of Christ's gifts are: 41 CO 3:23. ~1 Co 15:28. 6Ep 5:21. 7See 1P 2:13-15 and 5:5. 678 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 It is [Christ]~who gave apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers in roles of service0for the, faithful to build up the Body of Christ. till we become one in faith and in the knowledge of God's Son, and form that perfect man who is Christ come to full stature,s This passage tells us that Christ mediates God's favor for the Mystical Body through his gifts. Here Paul speaks of apostles, prophets,.evangelists, pastors and teachers; and the writer cites specific roles of service for up-b, uilding the Christian community. The enumeration includes charisms or gifts of the Holy Spirit given by Christ for the Mystical ~Body. In the development of the Church ,certain of these functions, would often, though not always, come to be exercised by those who held ecclesial offices. Evidence for this is already provided by Scripture in the Pastoral epistles. Here we are told how Paul, just before his death, entrusted the care of the Church at Ephesus to Timothy and that of Crete to Titus. These two men represent the first scriptural evidence for the appearance of bishops on the Church scene. With an eye to future continuity, they, in turn, are told in these epistles to establish, other bishops and presbyters throughout their respective territories in order to continue the pastoral ministry of the Church begun by the apostles. Paul is even represented here as ordaining Timothy. So we read: "'Hence I remind you to rekindle the gift of God that is within you through the laying on of my hands."%Whatever else these epistles tell us when read together, it seems true that certain of the charismatic roles of service mentioned in the,epistle to the Ephesians were likewise authenticated by visible sacramental celebration within and for the community. Consequently, there was nothing contradictory or in-harmonious between the charismatic gifts and hierarchical ,gifts present in the early Church. Outside of Scripture the ancient document called the Didache or The Teaching of the Twelve Apostles contains this injunction: "Choose for yourselves, therefore, bishops and deacons worthy of the Lord . . . for ttiey also exercise among you the ministry of prophets, and doctors." ~0 According to Roman Catholic theology, in fact, it is through the episco-pal office of the bishop of Rome and of those who are in communion with him (hat the charism of infallible teaching authority is assured to the Church. In order that the gates of hell should not prevail against the Church, bishops continue to exercise the pastoral and teaching role once committed to Peter and the original band of Apostles. If the episcopal office in union with the pope is not assured the charism of authentic pastoral and teaching authority, then no one has the gift of teaching, no matter how "See Ep 4:7-13. ~T Tm 1:6. l°Doctrina Doudecim Apostolorum, XV. # I. in Funk. Patres Apostolicae, 1901. Vol. II. pp. 32-34. Jesus Christ, the Mediator of Catholic Charismatic Life / 679 charismatic he or she may seem to be. It was first to Peter and the apostles together with their successors in the episcopate that Christ's promise was made in a special way: "'You are Peter and on this rock I will build my church and the Gates of Hell shall not prevail against it."" And to this end also, Christ promises to be with them, and so with us, until the end of the world. Finally, it is to the bishops as authentic pastors of the Church that Catholics endowed with charisms must defer. Speaking of charisms, Vati-can 1I teaches that " . . judgment as to their genuineness and proper use belongs to those who preside, over the church and to whose special com-petence it belongs, not indeed to extinguish the Spirit, but to test all things, and to hold fast to what is good (see 1 Th 5:12, 19-20).''~z Because Jesus is the One Lord and Mediator of gifts (hat are hierarchical as well as the strictly charismatic ones, he assures a marvelous harmony between them. Because this harmony and. unity is a real gift and an authentic mark of Christ:.s Church, it calls forth an appropriate response from every member of the Body. So Paul exhorts the Ephesians: I plead with you. then, as a prisoner for the Lord. to live a life worthy of the calling ,you have received, with perfect humility, meekness and patience, bearing with one another lovingly. Make every effort to preserve the unity which has the Spirit as its origin and peace as its binding force. There is bul one body and one Spirit,just as there is but one hope given all of you by your call. There is one Lord, one faith, one baptism: One God and Father of all who is over all, and works through all and is in ,,all.l:~ Disregard for Charism: and Office ~ Still it is today part of our sad inheritance that these words have not always been heeded. Heresies and schisms among Christians manifest the sin of our divisions. And this sin has been admitted and confessed in our time. Many of us are the descendants of Reformation and Counter- Reformation forebearers who themselves bore some responsibility for our presept divisions. So Vatican II officially recognizes that there were sins on both sides. BUt we today are no less .responsible than they. It is our vocation to open up our hearts to the.healing of such divisions that the Mystical Body of Christ on .earth might be made whole, and that the world might come to faith through its corporate and united witness. Some Catholic theologians today interpret the sin-sickness of Christian division as lack of openness to the presence and action of Jesus Christ in one another. From this perspective, the Reformation represents the Protes-tant rejection of the hierarchical gifts which the Catholic believes to be the ~tMt 16:18-19. ~ZDogmatic Constitution on the Church. Ch. II. "The People of God," ~ 12, in Abbot. p. 30. ~aEp 4: I-6, ~ Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 very heart of charismatic life in the Church. For the Catholic, to reject them is to reject Christ who said ".He who hears you hears me." The Catholic, Counter-Reformation era, on the other hand, manifests a certain deafness, or at least a hesitancy on the part of Catholics to attend to the charismatic voices of prophetic protest that should have been heeded sooner. Avery Dulles calls attention to the fact that within the Catholicism of the Middle Ages (the Pre-Reformation period) there was a lively and healthy tension between the prophetic and sacerdotal elements of the one charis-matic Church of Christ. It was the age of Bernard of Clair~,aux, Francis of Assisi and Catherine of Siena. But as time progressed, the institutional features began to assert themselves more and more. Reflecting on these facts Dulles concludes: The history of the Reformation might have been quite different if the church in the sixteenth century had been more open to searching scrutiny in light of the gospel. In post-Reformation times, the history of western Christianity is dominated by the prophetism of the Reformation churches and the sacredotalism of the Catholic tradi-tion. In a separation that ought never to have occurred, churches of the word were arrayed against churches of the sacrament?4 According to the foregoing analysis, the healing of sinful divisions and the restoration of a loving unity among separated Christians will depend on our openness to Jesus Christ, whether he comes to bring us fuller life through charismatic individuals (even those presently outside the visible structures of Roman Catholicism), or through the charismatic offices of the visible church. It seems that our closedness to either aspect of Christ life today is a tragedy that will only continue to bear bitter fruit. In summarizing some of" Karl Rahner's remarks on the charismatic element in the Church, Gerald McCool says very succinctly: The hierarchy has an indispensable role to play in the Church. Her founder has given I~gitimate authority to the pastors of his community. Nevertheless the Church's teaching and sanctifying mission has not been entrusted exclusively to her office holders and the Church must be extremely sensitive to the personal intimations of God's will and to the pastoral inspirations which have been given to charismatic individual Christians. The Church's leaders must not endeavor to manage everything in the Church "from the top down." They must rather encourage apostolic initiative "from the bottom up" on the part of charismatic individuals and charismatic pastors. The Church ideal is the harmonious cooperation of her hierarchical and charismatic elements. It should never be the absorption or the elimination of one element by the other.~5 This summary represents the position of Karl Rahner, a teaching whose basis was first enucleated in the Encyclical letter of Pius XII, Mystici Corporis, and whose substance finds expression in the teaching of Vatican II on cha~'i~m~ ~Avery Dulles. The Survival o.t'Dogma (Doubleday: 1973). p. 133. ~Gerald A. McCool, S.J., editor's introduction to the section entitled "'The Charismatic Element in the Church," in A Rahner Reader (Seabury Press, New York: 1975), p. 293. Jesus Chr&t, the Mediator of Catholic Charismatic Life / 681 The ideal harmony and unity described in this teaching is really the gift of unity St. Paul speaks of in the fourth chapter of Ephesians. It is the unity of the Spirit that can come from none other than the Lord himself. By this very fact, it is not just some obscure or impersonal unity; rather, it is the dynamic and living unity of a Body that lives from moment to moment in a surrender of agapeic love whose very center is Christ and whose goal is the Father's glory. The Vision and Faith of Authentic Charismatics Because this gift of unity speaks of love, it implies sacrifice in the form of death to any self-centeredness that would threaten authentic unity. For the charismatic individual as well as for the ecclesiastical office-holder it demands ". perfect humility, meekness and patience, bearing wil~h one another lovingly." An authentic Catholic charismatic might well be the "man for all seasons" who is willing to suffer martyrdom rather than reject the word of Christ in his legitimate pastor. And the good pastor, like a good shepherd, might be one who fulfills his charismatic office by acknowledging and encouraging Christ's activity in prophetic individuals who can further the life of the flock. An example of this might well be Paul VI, as evidenced in his Apostolic Exhortation On Evangelization in the Modern World. He wrote: It is certain that, side-by-side with the ordained ministries whereby certain people are appointed pastors and consecrate themselves in a special way to the service of the community, the church recognizes the place of non-ordained ministries which are able to offer a particular service to the Church. A glance at the origins of the Church is very illuminating, and gives the benefit of an early experience in the matter of ministries. It was an experience that was all the more valuable in that it enabled the Church to consolidate herself and to grow and spread. Attention to the sources however has to be complemented by attention to the present needs of mankind and of the Church. To drink at these ever inspiring sources without sacrificing anything of their values, and at the same time to know how to adapt oneself to the demands and needs of today-- these are the criteria that will make it possible to seek wisely and to discover the ministries which the Church needs and which many of her members will gladly embrace for the sake of ensuring greater vitality in the ecclesial community. These ministries will have a real pastoral value to the extent that they are established with absolute respect for unity and adhering to th.e directives of the pastors, who are the ones responsible for the Church's unity and the builders thereof.~a With an eye to past history, I think you will agree that this is a hearten-ing statement, one that manifests remarkable openness to the initiatives and inspirations of the Holy Spirit for our times. But the realization of such hopes for a vital, charismatic life whose fruit and goal is Catholic unity may still seem somewhat visionary. If it does, perhaps that is understandable. The authentic unity of the Church, in order to be fully realized, must await ~Paul VI. On Evangelization in the Modern World (Publications Office of the United States Catholic Conference: Washington. D.C.). p. 53. 682 / Review for Religious, Volum.e 38, 1979/5 ,the return of the Lord. Still, the degree of its realization in the time that intervenes mustdepend on our faith and expectation. So we might°conclude our remarks by asking the question that Christ himself once posed: "When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth'?" Or again we might ask, Is Jesus Christ Lol'd? To which we proclaim: "'Jesus Christ is Lord!" "Come, Lord Jesus!" REPRINTS FROM THE REVIEW "Instruction on the Renewal of Religious Formation" S.C. for Religious . 35 "Prayer of Personal Reminiscence," D. J. Hassel, S.J." . 60 "Profile of the Spirit:,A Theology of Discernment of Spirits," J. R. Sheets, S.J . 50 "Retirement or Vigil," B. Ashley, O.P. " . 30 "The 'Active-Contemplative' Problem," D. M. Knight .75 "The Contemporary Spirituality, of the Monastic Lectio," M. Neuman, O.S.B . 50 "The Four Moments.of Prayer," J. R. Sheets, S.J. . : . 50 "The Healing of Memories," F. Martin . 35 "The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat," H. F. Smith, S.J . 35 Orders for'the above should be Sent to: Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, MO 63108 Please include 75¢ postage and handling charge with preopaid orders. The Proposed Canons on the Consecrated Life Explained: III Joseph F. Ga/len, S.J. This is the third article commenting on the p~:oposed new canon law dealing with the consecrated life. Father Gallen's address is: Jesuit Community at St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Chapter V: Temporal Goods and the Consecrated Life Carl. 37, § 1. Norm and Right of Institutes Concerhing Temporal Goods. Norm. The law that her~'regu,!ates institutes of consecrated life is the section of the proposed canons on church possessions, or' ecclesiastical goods, which is the universal'law of the Chhrch on this matter. Institutes are to be guided by a different or co~trfiry norm that is established elsewhere on a particular matter in common law or that l~as otherwise been approved by the Holy See. . § 2. t~ight of Owning Property. a) Temporal Goods or Property. These are goods extrinsic to man that have a value in money, for example, money, real estate, stocks, bonds, furniture, equipment, clothing, books, and so forth. The present canon is concerned only with property owned by. an institute, province, canonically, erected house, or other public juridical person of the institute, not with that owned by individual religious. Goods of the former type are called church or ecclesiastical property, since the'y are owned by a public juridical person in the Church. b) Capacity: Every institute of consecrated life, province, or canonically erected house is~ an ecclesiastical public juridical person and possesses, in vir-tue 6f can. 13, the unlimited right of acquiring, owning, and administering 683 684 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 temporal property. This canon reads: "Any juridical person, whether public or private, is a subject capable of acquiring, retaining and administering temporal goods in accordance with the law." The capacity of an institute, province or house to acquire or own property is given by canon law and is not limited by canon law. The capacity extends to all species of property, for ex-ample, to immovable and movable goods. The former consists of things which are at least considered as being unable to be moved from place to place, for example, lands, a church, chapel, school, hospital, and so forth, and rights on such property. Movable property is that which can be so moved, for example, clothing, furniture, equipment, and so forth. The same capacity extends to all rights of use and/or receiving returns on property, for example, interest, dividends, and rents. c) Exclusion or Limitation of Capacity. The present proposed canon, .as in the past, permits the particular Rule or constitutions to exclude or limit the proprietary capacity described above. Such limitations are practically never found in institutes of brothers or sisters but they are encountered in some older institutes of men and women. Mendicant institutes are either complete-ly or partially incapable of possessing property from which they have the right to certain., and stable returns (Friars Minor of the Observance, Capuchins, Discalced Carmelites, and Jesuits). An institute may prescribe that the property acquired is to be spent for works and needs and that none or only a limited amount may be retained as capital. It may be enacted that the ownership of all property is invested in the institute, not in the provinces or houses or only subordinately in these. Acquisition by inheritance may be ex-cluded absolutely or through all or some of the members. Before adopting any such limitation, an institute should make a searching investigation into its efficacy as a means of poverty and its practicality in relation to the life and work of the institute. A constant emphasis on fundamental spiritual princi-ples and those specific to poverty can very likely be a more effective means than juridical incapacities or limitations. I have encountered practically no more recent institute of simple vows that has followed any of these practices of some more ancient institutes of solemn vows. The axiom that the decline of the consecrated life is caused by a decline in poverty or prayer may in fact be the reverse, that is, poverty or prayer declines because the spiritual life in general has declined. d) Ownership of Property. Can. 14 reads: "Ownership of goods belongs, under the supreme authority of the Roman Pontiff, to that legal person which legitimately acquired the same goods." Therefore, unless otherwise prescribed by the particular law, property is owned by the juridical person that acquired it. Houses, provinces, and institutes are distinct canonical per-sons; therefore, the assets and debts of one are not those of another. The Holy See holds the supreme administration of all church property in the sense that it is to be acquired, owned, and administered according to the laws and under the authority of the Church (can. 18). Civil incorporation has been ex, The Proposed Canons on the Consecrated Life: III / 685 plained under can. 9. In the proposed canons: can. 28, § 2, 2°,commands ad-ministrators of ecclesiastical property to observe canon and civil law; can. 42, § 1, commands that civil laws regarding the leasing of property should be observed; can. 44, that the provisions of civil law on contracts are also to be observed by canon law; and can. 45, § 2, that in dispositions to pious causes made by bequest, the solemnities of civil law should be observed whenever possible. e) Manner of Acquisition. A juridical person of the consecrated life may acquire property, temporal goods, in any manner that is lawful to individuals according to the natural law, for example, the fruit of one's labor, donations, purchases, inheritance, legacy, or according to the positive law of the Church or state, for example, by contracts or wills in conformity with such laws. f) Property of Institute and Province. The general funds consist of the payments of novices, the interest on dowries, and the dowry itself at the death of a sister. Donations, legacies, and inheritances, when given to either, also belong to the institute or province, as do the taxes on the houses for the general and provincial expenses. These are used for the expenses of the gener-al or provincial government, of the novitiate, juniorate, education and for-mation of the members, central infirmary, the erection of houses, the assistance of the poorer works and houses and, if possible, the establishment of a reserve fund for extraordinary expenses, and of a capital fund that will serve as a source of regular income for all or some of these purposes. g) General and Provincial Tax. The general and provincial expenses listed above are clearly necessary. They are for the good of the entire institute or province and must, at least in great part, be defrayed by contributions from the provinces and houses. Two species of taxation are found in constitutions: One-third of the Net Surplus of the Past Year. According to the Normae of 1901 (no. 294), each house was obliged to send this sum at the end of each year to the provincial or general treasury, if there were no provinces, and each province had to send the same fraction of its net surplus to the general treasury. This is still the norm of a sufficient number of institutes. The tax should be sufficient to take care of the general, and provinci.al expenses; it should not burden all or some of the provinces and houses excessively nor prevent the establishments of the institute from setting up a reserve fund for proper maintenance and development. An obvious defect of this system is that it is only a contingent payment. It depends on the fact of a surplus. The general and provincial expenses are absolute and constant; the tax should therefore be an absolute element of the house and provincial budgets. It should be condoned or lessened when a province or house simply cannot pay it. o. Determined Sum for Each Member. A more modern and preferable norm found in many constitutions more recently approved by the Holy See is that the determination of the amount of the tax is left to the general chapter, which can then increase or decrease it as the times and circumstances de- 686 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 mand. The chapter often determines that each house is to contribute a .fixed sum annually for each member assigned to the house. A fractional part of such a sum may then be assigned to the general funds when the institute is divided into provinces, or each pro

Issue 37.4 of the Review for Religious, 1978. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS iS edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. © 1978 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $8.00 a year; $15.00 for two years. Other countries: $9.00 a year, $17.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gailen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor July, 1978 Volume 37 Number 4 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW VOa RELIGtOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. The Prayer of Darkness Carol Jean Vale, S.S.J. Sister Carol Jean is on the staff of St. Joseph Academy; Main Street; McSherrystown, PA 17344. An earlier contribution of Sister Carol Jean was "God, Community and the Religious Person" (September, 1976). The prayer of darkness shadows the human spirit after a moment of unparalleled, penetrating, haunting luminescence. For a moment God's life blazes in the center of the heart with an energy and vitality never previously perceived. So intensely does he reveal himself that it seems as though we are for the first time entering into life. Present existence appears dulled and unreal in the advent of so dynamic a presence. Dt~ring this experience we f~el so free that we could willingly surrender all to him and enter forever into this extraordinary existence so strangely, familiar and familiarly strange. The whole of our person ignites into a Conflagration of burning love and flaming longing for the living God. With false certainty, our intellect assures us that, finally, we have arrived at the. point of union with the transcendent Being] A radiating peace suffuseg our person and joy explodes in the rhythm of our hearts. " Such an experience may occur only once with tremendous power and potency, or it may recur over a relatively brief period of time for a few minutes dispersed through the c~3urse of several days or weeks. In the latter case, a loving Father gentles us along' slipping in and out of presence. Then--all goes black. Night descends. What remains of the experience is a living memory so real, so vivid that it charges the absence with an almost physical anguish of longing. This memory sustains us .through the darkness as it reminds us of the presence we seek and cannot now perceive. The keen remembrance of his presence is God's gift--it is spiritual food for the desert 481 482 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 of purification, for the night of daikness. The intense experience of God imprints on our spirit a knowledge of the destination to which we afe journeying. Indelibly inscribed in our hearts is the memory 0fthe presence of the God towards whom we are on pilgrimage. As the light within us to darkness dims, the flicker of the flame of his presence fires our minds with the knowledge that even in the darkness his Unseen presence shines. The memory of the light gives a vision of the journey's end though the way is charged with dark uncertainty. The value of this prayer of darkness is that it stretches us to the very limits of our being. It calls forth the essence of the energy of life even as it empties us of the essence of the power of death. Darkness breeds out the selfish desires, the egotistical goals, the hidden plottings of the covered and unknown subconscious. This prayer reveals us to ourselves as we are in God's sight and it empowers us to surrender to his transforming vision. While the sensible presence of God evades our questing, his unper-ceived presence burns our spirit to new depths of holiness. To view this process would be to die from too much revelation, so the darkness conceals the blinding fires of God's blazing furnace. The prayer of darkness is de-signed to lead us to a faith that slowly reveals the Fa~her--a gentle light glowing in the core of our inmost being. This light fires itself into the "living flame of love" only at the price of total surrender, absolute denial, con-summate purification. It seems strange that what is supposed to be so good pains us so terribly. The healing touch of God, like the knife of the diligent surgeon, stabs pain into the firm skin of our insidious sinfulness. Each moment of intense touching leaves the recipient reeling in a vacuum of tenebrity and agony. This darkness, which grows seemingly more and more impenetrable, slowly tempers us to withstand a light eqiaal in luminosity to the density of its opaque blaCkness. Phototropic like the seedling, we grow lightwards only at the cost of piercing the dark earth, dirt grain by dirt grain. The process of ascent proceeds slowly, and demands a careful scrutiny of each grain of sin and imperfection before that minute piece of earth moves aside and allows us to pass on to the next invariably different grain. The darkness of this night uncovers the darkness lurking within our own hearts. We behold ourselves as sinners even as we behold God's holiness as it floods the shores of our minds with the incredible truth of its potency. Such knowledge leads us deeper into the night where we know instinctively that we will be bared to the dark rays of a light powerful enough to eradicate the effects of sin~s tenacious grasp. It becomes clear to us that each at-tachment or need must be displaced. All that is not God must be relin-quished. EvEn our most secret loves must be released. Those attachments to which we cling unaware must be cauterized by a dark and unrelenting fire which flames secretly within us. Aware only of the darkness, we often fail to see the new light that slowly emerges as even those sins we knbw not become purified by the heat of the furnace of God. Such darkness is the price of vision. The Prayer of Darkness / 483 Early in formation we learned that the absence of God's consolation in prayer is an experience that everyone undergoes to a greater or lesser intensity. Yet, no matter how much we have read, heard, or pondered, when the night descends panic and question envelop us as well. We knew it would be painful, but never did we expect this degree of agony. We knew it would touch our lives with trials, but not that it would pierce into every corner of our lives demanding conversion. We knew that we needed purification, but not that we required the intensity of an inferno to burn away our ingrained loves. We knew that it would last a long time, but not that it might stretch out over years of molding, remolding, and molding yet again. For some reason, we do not actually believe that we are as sinful as the degree of purification would indicate. We fail to understand that he wants all, really all, and that he will stop at nothing to strip us of the affections that hold us back from the vision of his face. Perhaps the cross tests a dimension of man never explored by joy. Suffering and joy meet only in the moment of God. Joy draws us to the heights while suffering carves in us new caverns of depth. It is analogous to the. reflection of a high mountain in a limpid blue, crystal-mirroring lake. If the mountain's height could be perfectly scaled into the waters of the luminous lake it would, accurately represent the effect that suffering has on joy. The deeper the suffering the higher the'joy, reaching into the altitude of God. The cross tries the ability to endure, to expand in consciousness, to sail the seas of unknown mystery and to chart the oceans of unexplored inner space. Suffering is the vehicle that alone lets us enter and safely travel in the atmosphere of joy that.transfuses the divine milieu. It is the quality of our dying that determines the quality of our living. To the degree that we have been stripped and emptied will we be inner-directed and unshackled. The more deeply God has penetrated the uncircumcised regions of our hearts, the more freely will we be able to enter into the current of life unencumbered by our own dreams of success and hopes for self-glorification. The existential moment holds untold opportunities for life-choices birthed out~ of our death to callousness, indifference, and egoism. The death of the prayer of darkness draws Us out of ourselves. To survive the struggle it becomes imperative to forget self. If pain turns inward we become small, selfish, bitter, and self-pitying. Only an outward movement insures growth and new depths of holiness. Pain drives us be-yond the confines of the narrow world of "I" to consider, embrace, and compassionate with others. The' night of darkness bestows a new sense, of oneness with all other people for it puts us deeply in touch with the ground of their being. As we come to understand who we are, and who God is we learn to understand who others are and who God is in them. Our outward orientation toward God in pr.ayer seeps over into our everyday lives, be-coming an outward orientation toward others. ,. Trials which tear at every area of our lives characterize this dark 4~14 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 prayer--rejection by, or difficulties in community, lack of understanding on the part of friends, dissatisfaction with our apostolate, family difficulties or deaths, poor health, self-doubt, scrupulosity, lack of fulfillment even in those areas where we once met fulfillment. No created thing seems to be sufficient. There is a gnawing emptiness with the temporal and transient, even the eternal God rests silently in the dark impenetrable stillness of our being. This is but another way that the Lord strips us and shows us the emptiness of an existence apart from him. It is his way to mold our value system. In this state of dark uncertainty, he shapes us to image the design of his heart as each aspect of life reduces or enlarges to its proper pro-portion. Gradually the heart comes to cent(r solely on Jesus as Lord rec-ognizing him as the focal point of all living. The deeper we journey into the night the more we become absorbed in God. Indeed, we continually search for him in the midst of the darkness. At every turn, in every corner of ourselves we quest for some glimpse of the presence that more and more preoccupies our waking and even sleeping moments. The more elusive this lover the more ardently we seek him. Fear that we are not serving him stalks the inner caverns of our minds and we strive more totally to be faithful in the smallest details of our daily living. We are driven to perform voluntary acts of love knowing that such acts will draw us more deeply into the fire and more totally into him. Willing, joyful choices of self-death insure willing, joyful life-choices. Fasting, penance, self-giving constitute forms of self-immolation that seed new life in the fertile soil of the human spirit. The desire to fast from food is a form of death that disciplines the will to choose to fast from death-dealing words and actions. Penance forges in the deepest person a new desire to go beyond the narrow confines of self in an effort to direct our energies in service to others. Each time we transcend ourselves to serve the other we die a little more to that spirit of selfishness that holds us back from God and from those he loves. These active forms of voluntary self-death cannot even begin to approximate the depths of new found freedom wrought by the power of God's purification, but they are our contribution to the night of fire. Blessed is he or she who can call the darkness holy, who can desire its purification, who can rest in the question of its presence. This person will grow rapidly because the process of purification is facilitated by generosity. The more we submit to the fire of tempering the sooner we will find the inferno subsiding. If such generosity does not characterize our attitude, we can ponder the authenti(ity of the prayer itself. The night should birth in us greater service, increased prayer, deeper love of others, As the darkness washes the spirit with new life that life should begin to emerge and become visible to those whom we meet. It is a fire whose by-products are the fruits of the Holy Spirit. All the gifts with which we were endowed at baptism and confirmation become activated as the night of fire frees them from their The Prayer of Darkness / 41t5 resting place in the well of our person. New energy is released and life pours forth to the surface of our lives. The inward darkness more and more manifests itself as outward light. It is a pain that stimulates active concern for others as it burns away the self-concern that is an integral part of our sinful condition. The prayer of darkness is, then, a consuming, non-consuming fire. Our sinful and secret affinities are incinerated and purified while our spirit is filled with a new energy and power for creative living. At the night's be-ginning, we see the fire of God in a moment of intense, indwelling presence. Throughout the night itself the fire's action is so volatile that the flames are hidden from the eyes. The living God ravishes the heart and turns it toward himself. As the night ends we again behold the fire within--the fire that is the God of light dwelling in the ground of our being. This prayer teaches that the vision of God is given only to those who have endured the night of the cross. The prayer of darkness delivers ou~: bodies to the instrument of puri-fication. On this wood we are scourged, immolated, and ultimately con-secrated. To be crucified one must stretch out the whole length of his body. Such a body defies the power of death. It cannot be held. The tension toward life is too great. The body has been stretched beyond the point of death's power. Powerless, defenseless, and weak, the crucified body re-linquishes itself in an act of total faith. "In weakness, my power reaches perfection." This body enters the state of total surrender and in that stance the Lord of life invadeS the human spirit and fills it with the power and strength and light of the life of God. This action constitutes the purpose Of the prayer of darkness. It crucifies the human spirit and purifies it so that once faith becomes the habitual attitude of personal presence to God and others, the Trinity may reveal its dwelling.place in the now light-filled inner space of the heart's secret chamber. God himself has carved out his kingdom in our hearts. Suffused with an atmosphere of faith, irradiated with the light of Jesus Christ, powered by the energy of the Holy Spirit, sacralized by the presence of the Father, this secret room pulses with divine presence. To this dwelling place of God comes the person readied for betrothal. The night of darkness ended, the human spirit basks in the light of God gently flaming in the secret chamber of his fire-tendered heart. The night of darkness is the furnace of God, the birth-bed of life, the dark forger of light. Endured in all of its terrible intensity it creates new space for living. Once ended the night heralds the dawn of the day of forever, the momentless moment of visionless vision. Two Models of Christian Spirituality Val J. Peter Father Peter, a priest of the Archdiocese o.f Omaha, is currently associate professor of theol, ogy at Creighton University; 2500 California St.; Omaha, NE 68178. A I. Case Studies in Confusion young religious complains of problems of vacillation in his prayer life, his relations with others, and his self-concept. These three are generally good when he is performing well. But he has discovered since leaving the novitiate that virtue is not virtue unless there is a realistic alternative. So when his performance inevitably falters, so does his ability to pray. And because his self-concept is also diminished, he really cannot relate "to anyone on a deeper level. At times he is so gripped with a sense of un-worthiness and shame that he is not open to people around him. Because of this he feels intense loneliness and really feels ashamed to express his difficulties to anyone. Often he is paralyzed by an intense introspective-ness, constantly questioning his motives for every'thing. A retired religious finds herself becoming increasingly angry and bitter at her religious order. She was told in the novitiate to strive for perfection, "never be happy with yourself,." andalways try to please. During her long teaching career she was what many considered a model of obedience, piety, and hard work. Now she is old and sick and shunted off into a corner of a retirement home. Since she has outlived her usefulness, she findsJ herself shorn of any self-worth. Her source of securit~ is shattered. She is bitter and angry at the way she was trained, the way she lived, and the way she is now treated. A religious in her thirties has been in counseling for some months. She complains of being increasingly unable to deal with the guilt she feels as a Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 4117 result o fan intense romantic affair of short duration some years previously. She blames a book she read on sex and celibacy for the trouble she got herself into. In her mind God simply will not forgive her so she cannot forget. A former religious talks cynically of his experience in the order as alienating, unhealthy, and destructive. He says he became alienated from himself in that despair and self-hate were the result of his poor perform-ance. He says he became alienated from others beause his daily decision making was inevitably based on trying to conform the world to his need for security. He says it alienated him from God, in that God was seen as master and man as slave, no matter how much official rhetoric denied it. Because of this threefold alienation he has rejected his former order as well as its religion completely. These cases illustrate a central problem of Christian spirituality today. What in truth is God's relationship to his creatures and how does man's behavior fit into this relationship? The gospels tell us of the depths of God's love but they are also filled with urgent moral demands. There are even dire threats and apocalyptic promises. How does all of this fit together? Many of us first faced this issue as children in the context of totalitarian religious control and puritanical restraints. Some still do not see the need to grow beyond it. For the many others who have already freed themselves from this rigid control of behavior by threats and promises, the real issue is no longer how to achieve freedom from such control but rather what this freedom is for. Where do we go from here? Is the on!y option an irre-sponsible permissiveness that sentimentalizes God's love and reduces sin to a series of petty misdemeanors? The answer to these questions may seem ob, vious to some, But they are not so obvious to the anguished people in the cases citedabove. In an age of anxiety and uncertainty it is the obvious that is most in need of exegesis. To illustrate the problem and answer these questions, let us contrast the results flowing from two models of Christian spirituality. We are not seek-ing proof but rather understanding. The evidence brought forth by modern scholars, not to mention the great spiritual masters, is simply too massive to be overlooked: in Christianity ethics is secondary to the central religious affirmation of God's gift of self to ]as in Christ Jesus, So our purpose is to~ understand the relationshiP between divine and human initiative and re-spon. se ~by spelling out the consequences that result from rightly and wrongly understanding ttiis relationship between God and man. Model A: Human Initiative and Divine Response This first model is familiar to all who can relate to the cases cited above. It makes Christianity first and foremost into an ethic. Here the primary source of our security as God's creatures is our performance which God awaits before deciding what attitude to take toward ~us. To rest our security 41111 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 before God on our performance is an easy mistake for us to make. After all, we judge others on the basis of their performance; our attitude toward our fellowman reflects our reaction to his performance. And we expect the same from others. In addition, the mistake is congenial to our American culture with its heavy stress on results and on efficiency. So if a person desires that God love him very much, then he will have to perform very well indeed. ~ What If Your Performance Is Poor? If such is the case, anyone serious about his spiritual life will feel an urgent need to change his behavior, to move from insecurity to security before God, to avoid the wrath that is sure to come, and to advance along the path to perfection. Go to the spirituality section of your library and see how many tomes have the word, perfectio.n, in their titles. Acting on the desire to perform better, one of four things is likely to happen: i. You could change the criteria for good performance, now declaring that the behavior which you had thought was morally evil is in reality very good. ii. You could change the criteria for good performance, now declaring that this troublesome behavior is in reality neither good nor evil but rather of no moral consequence, insignificant and irrelevant to the Christian moral life. iii. You can try to change the poor performance, and fail in the effort. In other words, convinced that your criteria are correct, you embark on a program of moral renewal and fail miserably. You simply cannot change. iv. Or you can try to change your poor performance, and succeed in that effort. Examples of the~e four possibilities come quickly to mind. i. You should be proud of it, not sad. In this approach one changes the moral evaluation of acts to diminish the burdens of guilt. The religious who complains of being unable to deal with the guilt she feels as a result of a brief but intense romantic affair is a prime candidate for this approach. She has performed poorly--by her own evaluation. But feeling the weight of this poor performance and the resulting negative attitude of her God, she may decide (in fact she may be mistakenly encouraged in this decision) upon further reading and reflection that her criterion has reversed itself: God would surely be very displeased if this affair were morally evil; but what if it is not? Was not her loving this man a most important awakening of her humanity as a woman, a maturing of her love psychologically and spirit-ually? Did it not relieve her loneliness, support her faltering ego, moderate her frustrations, and bring a refreshing experience of closeness? Is not God proud of her? Should she not also rejoice and be proud? With this change in criteria comes relief from the agonizing burden of guilt and a new attitude on the part of God. The main point here is that Model A sharply reduces the odds of making sound judgments about criteria for morality. Why? Because the central concern of this religious and others operating under Model A is not to discover the truth of the affair but rather to come to grips effectively with Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 41t9 the guilt and insecurity built into this situation by the model itself. What she is really doing is searching not for truth and genuine value but for a way to eliminate guilt and achieve good performance. The heart of Model A is manifest: "All is well because I perform well." She mistakenly assumes that the divine and human initiative and response are best understood by way of this model. Thus if there are authority figures who assertx andy are worthwhile~ this religious may be persuaded to accept what they say, not because it really is so, but because the security of good performance results from her acceptance of their words. It takes a certain degree of skill and desire for truth to sort out the opinions of various theologians on any topic. If you rummage through their opinions to find one that eliminates guilt, then you.may think you have found a bargain. But like most bargains you only get what you pay for. ii. You're worrying about the wrong things. In this second way of handling poor performance, one simply ceases to worry about a heretofore troublesome area of :morality. The young religious who complains about vacillation in his prayer life, his self-concept, and his relations with others is a prime candidate for this second approach. His problems are impatience, anger, jealousy, and revenge. Feeling the weight of his poor performance, and thus God's displeasure, he is strongly motivated by an urgent need to. stem his reversals and resume his advance along the path to perfection. Here too he can; after study and reflection, come to the conclusion that morality is not so much concerned with "keeping oneself unspotted by the world",as it is with "caring for widows and orphans." He can conclude that impatience and petty jealousy--and .even casual anger and a little re-venge- are pretty much morally indifferent especially in an age when there is so much social injustice in the world: racial prejudice, nuclear blackmail, grinding poverty, overpopulation, and pollution. This certainly makes him feel a lot better about himself. It improves his prayer life and his relationships with others. This is a tremendous benefit in anybody's book. But the point again is that Model A severely limits the chances for making correct moral judgments because its central focus is the intensely felt need to get rid of insecurity and unhappiness. Changing cri-teria can be sound and balanced, but it is seldom so if strongly motivated by the felt insecurity of poor performance in following Model A. For in this model, changing moral criteria can be basically a technique for dealing with guilt rather than the result of a successful search for truth. One of the "benefits" of living in a time when there is both an "old morality" and a "new morality" is that these first two ways of dealing with poor per-formance are more readily available and much more attractive. It's like a gigantic theological "sale." You can find a bargain or two without ever coming tO grips with why you are at the bargain counter in the first place. iii. The darkness of despair. The third way of dealing with poor per-formance is to try to change our behavior and fail miserably in that effort. 490 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 The cynical former religious who considers his experience in his order as alienating and destructive is but one tragic example. He simply could not change his behavior. So he then found himself facing an even more dis-pleased God than before. He was literally in a "hell of a mess." This route is a well-traveled one, worn smooth with the tears of depression, the fa-miliar terrors of the night, and the deep-seated angers of countless an-guished pilgrims. For many, sin-sickness now sets in, not infrequently leading some to the local psychiatrist. A more moderh version of sin-sickness is manifest in the ever increasing need for some to employ various forms of sensitivity training and make them into a way of life. The other option, chosen by the alienated former religious, is to reject altogether the religion of such a Tormentor-God in order to preserve one's mental health. If these are the only choicesmmental breakdown or rejection of religion--it is understandable why the latter would seem attractive. In these circum-stances, who would be so insensitive and cruel as to threaten such a person with the biblical consequences of an atheism he now embraces as a last resort? One certainly gains an insight into the problems of Model A by analyzing the despair one is led to under these circumstances. One cannot .turn to God. One is rather driven away from God who has become not the source of all security and all care but the very opposite. , iv. I have fought the good fight and won the race. The fourth way of dealing with poor performance is to try to change our behavior and succeed in that effort. What are the problems that loom large for such a person as he strives to live the Christian life? What If Your Performance Is Good? If such is the case a Model A person is sure to feel secure in the knowledge that God is pleased with him, loves him a great deal, and has a commensurate reward waiting for him in the life to come. Three problems, however, plague the success of a Model A Christian, problems built into the model itself: i. problems of self-righteousness and self-Sufficiency ii. problems of self-deception iii. problems with ongoing conversion. Examples come quickly to mind. i. Lord, I thank you that I am not like the rest of men. A man who has achieved considerable success in his priestly life may feel his consistently good performance to be a source of great security and happiness. But since his security is in his performance and not in God as a result of using this model, he ~pays a high price for it. He feels self-righteously superior to others; he looks down on them; he tends not to listen very much to their ideas (after all if they were so smart, why aren't they more successful?). This priest seldom, if ever, seeks spiritual advice and does not need a Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 491 spiritual director. He is self-sufficient. He is his own counselor--and con- ¯ sequently has a fool for a client. This priest sees no problems in living out his permanent commitment since he is particularly strong-willed and has highly developed coping techniques. He is convinced that all those who break their permanent commitments are simply weak-kneed and callow, lacking willpower. ii. Using the publican's words while praying the pharisee's prayer. Take the case of a highly successful religious who believes that his good performance really and trulyis due to God's grace. He does not merely ask God foi" good fortune while attaining virtue on his own. No, he says, it is God's grace~that makes him both want to perform well and actually do so. But, he says, God has given his grace indifferently and impartially to all, only to be fair, to give everyone a fighting chance. Life is for him much like a race in which God, as 'referee and judge, to be fair and impartial, gives everyone a fighting chance. So this religious could not have been successful without God's help, just as a football team cannot win the game if the referees are not fair. Yet now he has won so God owes him the promised reward. He is deceived by his success--not only about permanent com-mitment but also about success and failure, his own and others'. And h~ peddles his products to a ready-made market where they are in great de-mand. So by using the publican's words as packaging, he deceives himself and his customers into thinking they are buying something other than the pharisee's problems. ~ iii. If today you hear his voice, do not harden your heart. Take the case of a dynamic, n0-nonsense sister who has achieved considerable success as principal in an affluent parochial school. She has always been a winner ever since the novitiate days when she was singled' out as a future leader. She does.not tolerate--and neither does God--failure~in her own life nor in the teachers under her. On this tight ship they either produce or walk the plank. Success has long secured for her the status and acclaim that God and her public have in store for winners. She's got the world on the end of a string. Mother Teresa is scheduled to talk in town, and this principal out of curiosity makes a special effort to go and see for herself what this "living saint" has to offer. But she gets more than she bargained for. In a:totally unexpected flash of. insight she sees Mother Teresa surrounded by success yet seemingly oblivious to, and immune from, what are now clearly seen as its seductive effects. By comparison she suddenly experiences just for a moment the spiritual shabbiness of her own small love for God and his people. How was she to know? What must God think of her now? Thus does her long established but~tenuous security vanish in the intensity of the moment. What is she to do? Either she puts these thoughts out of her mind by explaining them away (something not too hard to do) or she will be thrown back into the insecurity before God which she has seen so often in others 492 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 and which, she thought, her complete success had vanquished. The former is clearly a much more attractive option. In other words the security of good performance is a very tenuous security indeed. It lasts only as long as good performance lasts. It finds immense difficulties in acknowledging the need for an ever deepening change of heart, an ever deepening realization of our sinfulness and our inability to love God more--the ongoing need for a Savior and Redeemer. Let us conclude with a brief look at the case of the retired religious who, having outlived her usefulness, noff finds herself increasingly isolated in lonely bitterness and resentment. She is suffering from an ailment prevalent in.Model A, a pathology which Rollo May once called "the divine right to be taken care of." When she wasstill young in the religious life she entered into a contract with God which read as follows: "I, Sister Alice, the party of the first part, agree that I shall always and forever permanently give up the following activities for my entire lifetime: worshipping other gods, taking the Lord's name in vain, dishonoring parents, killing, committing sexual sins, stealing, cheating, lying, and coveting. I further agree to relinquish my right to make moral judgments to God, the party of the second part, and his lawful representatives. And I, God, the party of the second part, in return for the faithful obedience of the party of the first part, do hereby grant Sister Alice the right to my special care; and I, God, do further promise that if she keeps her promise, I will reward the party of the first part with success and happiness." Well, Sister Alice, retired and shunted off to a corner of a rest home, is not as happy now as she thinks she should be. So, she feels, God has not kept his part of the contract. He has not honored her "divine right to be taken care of." What happens? Confusion, anger, and resentment take hold and spiritual collapse is near. "I was promised that I would always be taken care of if I were obedient. Look how obedient I have been all my life. So why am I not being taken care of?." Notice how different this is from the genuine Christian response: "Lord, I love you no matter what." Notice too thatthis kind of contract is also popular in the postconciliar Church. Only minor modifications are necessary. First, substitute the char-acteristics of love listed in 1 Co 13 for the Ten Commandments. Secondly, substitute the duty always to follow one's conscience for the duty always to obey religious superiors. The rest of the contract is the same, as aie the results. ~ For many people accustomed to living by Model A there is an under-standable reluctance to leave it behind. Although their behavior is rigidly controlled by threats and promises, they suspect that the only alternative is a model which whitewashes all activity no matter how morally atrocious by saying: it doesn't matter what you do because God loves you no matter what. They see Model A as at least remaining faithful to the radical de- Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 493 mands of the gospel. And they suspect that the only alternative is to abandon these radical demands in favor of a watered down gospel of sen-timental love. They rightly see a gospel of sentimental love as doubly defective, unfaithful as it is to both the radical love of God and to his demands as well. Where do we go from here? Is the only option an irre-sponsible permissiveness that reduces sin to a series of petty misde-meanors? That is the question which.we shall directly address in the second part of this study. II. Case Studies in Confidence We have been looking at the gospels. They tell us of the depths of God's love for us but they are also filled with urgent moral demands. We even find their pages filled with dire threats and apocalyptic promises. How does all of this fit together? Many of us faced thi~ issue as children in the context of authoritarian religious control and puritanical restraints. Many still do not know how to grow beyond this context. For others who have already freed themselves from this rigid control of behavior by the threats and promises inherent in Model A (described graphically in Part I), the real issue is no longer how to achieve freedom from that totalitarian control but rather, what is this freedom for? What is this freedom grounded in and oriented towards? Where do we go from here? Is the only option an irre-spon, sible permissiveness that sentimentalizes God's love and reduces sin to inconsequential misdemeanors? Model B: Divine Initiative and Human Response So we will look at another model of moral performance. This one does not ground our security in our performance but rather in the Good News of God's self gift. A word of caution is in order here. As mentioned at the conclusion of Part I, for many people accustomed to living by Model A there is an understandable .reluctance to leave it behind. Although their behavior is rigidly controlled by threats and promises, they suspect that the only al-ternative is a model which whitewashes all activity, no matter how morally atrocious, by saying: it doesn't matter what you do because God loves you no matter what. They see Model A as at least remaining faithful to the radical demands of the gospel. And they suspect that the only alternative is to abandon these radical demands in favor of a watered down gospel of sentimental love. They rightly see such a gospel as doubly defective. It is unfaithful not only to the radical moral demands of the gospel but also to the radical nature of God's love as well. Unfortunately so many examples of people abandoning the radical demands of the gospel for a watered down version of the love ethic can be cited that these seem to be the only two options available---one even more defective than the other. Model B, as we shall call it, goes beyond these two options. It is a higher 494 / Review for Religious, Volume 37,~ 1978/4 viewpoint arrived at by way of a deeper understanding of the relationship between God and man. In this model one tries to be faithful to the truth of both the immediacy of God's care (his radicallove no matter what), and the immediacy of God's demands which flow from this divine love. Unlike Model A, this model does not make Christianity into just an ethic. It rather understands that Christianity is first and foremost an effec-tive affirmation of God's relationship with his creation: it is the revelation in Christ Jesus of God's own gift of se!f, his love--sacrificial love--no matter what. Unlike the sentimental love posture, this model takes God's love so seriously that there is an urgent, radical call to respond. It is out of this incredibly serious gift of God's own self that the radical demands of the gospel arise. These ethical demands are not radical because of threats and promises; they are. radical because God's gift of self is at the root of divine and human existence. Whatever threats and promises there are in this model, they are not controlling. They are not the kind of threats and promises found in a dictator-slave relationship as in Model A. They are rather the very special kinds of threats and promises that inevitably accompany any genuine movement toward self-absorption and toward self donation. These kinds of threats and promises are inherent in the kind of.relationship we call agapeic love. And the more intense the love, the more it penetrates to the depths of our being, the more it is both promising and threatening at the same time. This dizzying balance of joy and dread, fulfillment and anxiety has much to do with the fact that love is so exciting. The stirrings of this kind of love are the first stirrings of hope. So in Model B, a person listens to the Word of God and is moved genuinely to wonder what is so unheard of that it is proclaimed in such a startling style. One hears that God's attitude toward us is not grounded in our performance in such a way that God simply reacts to that performance. One wonders how that can be so, since we so often find it not so in our dealings with men. In fact a person comes to anticipate that others will treat him in a way that is a manifest reaction to how he treats them. If it is so that God's ways are not man's ways, then that would be good news indeed. He hears further that God initiates and does not simply react. God so cared about men that he sent his Son; his Son so cared about them that he gave his life for them. And having given his life he still so cared about them that he sent the Spirit who would flood their hearts with so deep a care that it would flow over into the lives of others. That man Jesus, who knewGod as "my father," loved his father "no matter what." And he knew that his father loved him "no matter what," simply because he was his son. The immediacy of his father's care that daily dawned on him in, ever different ways in the face of daily different experiences was an immense wellspring of security. It was not the security that is grounded in performance: "All is well because I perform well." Indeed he performed well and his father Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 495 rejoiced in that. No, it was a security grounded in the fact that he was simply his beloved son. It was not a security stemming from a senile,~ grandfather-like care toward an immature child who can do what he feels like doing without fear, without demands made on him. No, he understood that out of that care flowed the most urgent need to do the will of his father. It was not a security that Would immunize him from loneliness and terror. He found in the desert the courage to stand alone and not throw himself down ("God will bear you up!"). He had no contract resulting in "the divine right to be taken care of." What he had was the assurance of his father's care no matter what befell him. What he had was not the as-surance that there would be only success and acclaim--no numbness of defeat, no sorrow, no pain, no indifference, no enmity, no fears, no be-trayals, no rejection, no death. But rather the assurance that even in all of the~e there was at work his father's care which was strong enough, effective enough, loyal enough to be trusted. It was a security born of love--with all that this entails. So, too, you and I hear that our Father is radically in love with us; that he is our Father as well, one who loves his sons and daughters no matter what, simply because he has set his heart on us and spoken our names. He calls us to a human life so deep that it is somehow divine. A man wonders ¯ how this can be so. But he begins to realize how when it begins to dawn on him that he is himself falling radically in love with God. He will now have to throw away all old contracts with God and learn to get along without such. In Model B the source of security for the Christian is then in the first instance the immediacy of God's care~ Because this care is not plastic, there flows from i~ the immediacy of God's demands. It is all the more intense because our very being thirsts for the living God. "Our souls were made for thee, O God, and they will not rest until they rest in thee." Thus mankind, bent on denying its own meaning while it cries out for it, encounters its sole source and destiny in this divine sel(donation. Operating under this model the possibilities are twofold, as in Model A: either my performance is poor, by whatever standards, or it is good. Here too we shall examine each of the alternatives. What If Your Performance Is Poor? If such is the case, anyone' serious about his spiritual life will be moved to change his,behavior. But the motive will not be the conviction that I am not keeping my part of the contract. Nor again will the motive be the need to escape the loneliness and terror that poor performance brings in Model A. In Model B the proper formation of conscience begins with worship; the will of God is best seen in the work of God, our redemption. It is his will that we accept wholeheartedly 'his gift of sell his fidelity and love no matter what. Am I doing God's will? This is the first place where the question must 496 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 be answered. Am I accepting his redemptive .love, his steadfast and loyal love? Note here that even in Model B there is insecurity in poor performance. The insecurity even functions at the same primordial level as the security flowing from God's steadfast love. It functions within the controlling horizon of God's saving fidelity. So the insecurity found in Model B is of a different type than in Model A. It is not founded on the false premise that God values me only for my utility. It is not the insecurity flowing from the supposed conditional nature of God's self gift. So the realization in faith that God is faithful "no matter what" eliminates the root problem central to morality in Model A. In this redemptive relationship, poor performance is simply that, poor. Surely I am sorry; I have not cared enough. And the inability by myself to care enough turns me back to the source of all care. But the poor per-formance remains. What shall I do about it? Four possible choices come to mind: i. You could change the criteria for good performance, declaring that the behavior which you thought was morally evil is in reality very good. ii. You could change the criteria for good performance, declaring that this troublesome behavior is in reality neither good nor evil but rather of no moral consequence, irrelevant to the Christian moral life. iii. You can try to change the poor performance, and fail in that effort. iv. You can try to change your poor performance, and succeed. i) and ii) The search for the truth. Let us take some examples. A mid-dle- aged religious finds herself haunted by the specter of world famine. She feels so troubled by the miseries of mankind that she cannot even enjoy a fine steak-dinner. In fact she just returned from a home visit and could hardly sit through the family Christmas dinner where the table groaned under the sheer weight of the sumptuous repast. She felt guilty for having participated in such. In fact she feels guilty about being born in such a family and in such a country where the wealth is simply "loot stolen by an imperialist, racist society." She half believes that she is stealing food from the nomads in Sahel when she drives her car. She half believes that by eating steak (which costs twenty times as much protein to produce as we get from it) instead of soybeans she is directly taking food out of the hands of Bangladesh children. The main concern and principal need of this religious is to discover the truth of the matter and that is no small undertaking. But it is surely a different undertaking than the illusive search for security for a way to appease an angry God, so characteristic of Model A. Her search is for truth and genuine value rather than simply seeking a way to eliminate guilt. To do God's will, to love effectively is a movement toward what is truly good, and not just apparently such. So one searches for what is really true and truly worthwhile because one simply, and really, wants to know, no matter Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 497 what the other consequences. There is a terrible need to find out. Such a need for truth does not guarantee results. But it does improve the odds of making better judgments about what is right and wrong. This need for the truth provides an openness which is the beginning of a self-corrective process. There are many areas of our lives where our criteria for right and wrong need ongoing revision, and sometimes even radical reversal. There are many areas of our lives where, due to misunderstanding, values are de-valued and disvalues are valued. The misunderstanding is not merely due to lack of information or education but also due to lack of love. Sexuality comes quickly to mind as an area little understood. But it is not the only, nor even the principal arena for ongoing autobiographical revision of cri-teria for right or wrong. Self donation and self-absorption, authority, and autonomy, justice and charity are much more critical. Now moved by a deep hunger for the truth, one can still make mistakes in judgment, but the felt need to be open to the truth in whatever arena (lying, stealing, world hunger, sexual behavior, and so forth) tends to countercheck our biases which predetermine the results of our investigation. iii. Lord, to whom shall we go? The third way of dealing with poor performance is to try to change our behavior, and to fail miserably in that effort. Take the case of a priest who struggles with ambition for status and higher office, with an insatiable thirst for public honors and recognition--a problem common to conservative and liberal alike. He now sees that he has lived too much of his life bartering half-truths for favors, service for ac-colades, compromise for advancement. He gave too many people lies when they asked for truth and he half convinced himself that he was helping the Church by populating her with' scoundrels and liars. But of late he has been deeply troubled by questions such as those St. Thomas More put to Sir Richard Rich, a man who bartered perjury for the post of Attorney General of Wales: "For Wales? Why, Richard, it profits a man nothing to give his soul for the whole world . But for Wales!" Like Israel as seen through the eyes of the prophet Osee, this priest had through the years pursued the desires of his own heart. His life, like the history of Israel, was a sordid and shameful story of the betrayal of Yahweh's hesed, his steadfast love. And now, try as he might, he finds himself caught in the coils of a sinful history from which he cannot extricate himself. Is there any light in the midst of his terrible darkness? Is there any radical source of hope to vanquish despair, that frightful footsoldier quar-tered in his house? "Lord, to whom shall I go?" The answer is to turn to the Lord as the source of all care, all strength, all healing. So here failure can be acknowledged for what it is yet it is not conducive to despair. With Augustine we can still say: "Late have I loved thee, O Beauty, so ancient and so new!" Perhaps most people do not experience such a massive case of failure 491~ / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 as this priest. But there is no doubt whatsoever that most people do ex-perience pernicious and persistent failure in at least one or two special areas of their lives: pride and prejudice, lying and cheating, sexual infidelity and inordinate self-seeking. In all these cases failure does not force one to turn away from an angry God but rather toward God as the radical source of all healing and care. Failure does not make you search out magic rituals of the latest psychological variety nor of the more traditional kind. (Wouldn't that be a relief and wouldn't it allow us a better chance of judging and applying the techniques of modern psychology in a more appropriate and refreshing way?) Here one realizes that God really cares no matter what; that he seeks to break the chains of our bondage and to emancipate us for a new life; that he sets out to win our hearts: "Therefore, behold, I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak tenderly to her. And there I will give her her vineyards, and make the valley of Achor a door of hope. And there she shall answer as in the days of her youth, as at the time when she came out of the land of Egypt" (Os 2:14-15). "Lord, you can do all things; you can make me whole." This is God's purifying love. Yet it is apparently far easier for many people to believe in a god who dislikes us than in one who loves us no matter what, who seeks to bring his creation and redemption to fruition within us. The latter is far harder to believe than the mystery of the Holy Trir~ity itself. For not a few people really dislike themselves, and so they shape God to their own image. Or at best they imagine God pounding his gavel and saying at the Last Judgment: "You people on the left, there, are going to hell. You people on the right, there, are going to heaven. And I am going out to lunch because I am sick and tired of the whole business."' God, the indifferent Judge, more ~nterested in lunch than in us! The New Testament .is good news indeed, most surprising to us in the midst of our failures. If it is lived, then there need be no convulsive efforts to achieve, efforts which first direct us back to the source and font of all care. iv. I have fought the good fight and won the race. The fourth way of ' dealing with our ~erformance is to try to change our behavior and succeed in that effort. How does such success function for a person who, calling God "Father," strives to live the Christian life? What If Your Performance Is Good? Now God rejoices in man's good performance. But the Christian's se-curity does not rest in any infallible guarantee of its c6ntinuance. In this situation there is a quiet joy and a considerable desire to share one's inner peace. But there is also fearand sometimes even trembling.Yet the fear is not a neurotic anxiety of a mere performance-relationship. Rather it is a healthy respect for the inconstancy ofourhearts, not God's. One is not sure of one's continued good performance, but only sure of G0d's healing care. Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 499 The problems that plague the success of a Christian operating out of Model A (problems built into the model) are transposed by the remedies inherent to Model B: i. problems of self-righteousness ii. problems of permanent commitment iii. problems of ongoing conversion Examples come quickly to mind. i. Lord, be merciful to me, a sinner. It is not for naught that the greatest saints proclaimed themselves very great sinners. Because the source of security and strength is God's care, there is less opportunity for self-righteousness, self-sufficiency and pharisaism to enter the picture. This is because the more one loves, the more one realizes the need of the beloved. The priest who has achieved considerable success in preaching and hearing confessions realizes that God uses the weak to heal the strong, the little ones of this world to confound the proud. He tends to listen to others because God speaks in strange ways and in unexpected places. He realizes that his greatest strength lies in his very weakness. He needs a spiritual director because self-deception is an old friend. As he goes through life he realizes that every stage of age. and wisdom and grace is accompanied by new and different temptations, all of them new and none of them quite expected, thus presenting ever fresh insights into our complete and radical dependence on God. The wisest man of all is one who at the end relies only on the mercy of God and in all honesty declares himself an unprofitable servant. ii) All I know of tomorrow is that Providence will rise before the sun. For those who mistakenly ground the feasibility of permanent commitment in man's fidelity and not God's, there are only two alternatives, both equally unenlightened and unattractive. Either permanent commitment be-comes no problem at all for me because I am particularly "strong willed" and have highly developed coping techniques. In this case I tend to view all those who do not keep their commitments to be, without ex~geption, weak-kneed and callow, somehow lacking willpower. Or permanent commitment becomes an agonizing problem to be resolved best by denying even the desirability of that kind of commitment since I could only commit myself if I were sure of my future performance. But given not only my track record but also everyone's potential for change, growth and development, then permanent commitment is risky at best and ludicrously dishonest at worst. In this case those who look down on lives of broken commitments are simple souls at best or rigid elitists at worst. For those however who ground permanent commitment in God's fidel-ity, these tortuous alternatives are unnecessary. A higher viewpoint opens up. I can commit myself permanently not because I am sure of my per-formance but because I am sure that, "with God, all things are possible." 5111~ / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 This changes my whole set of expectations about the future. I expect growth and development as well as my own failures to radically affect my life--to bring unheard of dilemmas and opportunities. I'm not sure how I will react to these but I do know this about tomorrow, that Providence will rise before the sun. iii. Lord, the sea is so wide and my boat is so small. A person's good performance arising out of response to God's steadfast love often makes him experience again and anew how poor this good performance has been. This experience may make him realize his inability to love God more. Thus the need for ongoing conversion. Here again one is turned to the source and font of that care. If the source of security for the Christian is God's own self gift, then the dawning awareness of being a sinner can really be accepted without neu-rotic anxiety on one hand and without a "who-gives-a-damn" or even despair attitude on the other hand; without withdrawal from an evil world and yet with appreciation for moments of withdrawal; without convulsive efforts to achieve and yet with the most wholehearted efforts to achieve, efforts which first direct us back to the source and font of care. Then one might,find the courage to accept his shortcomings for what they are and, in the healthiest sense, strive mightily to move forward. The Christian has no need to become overly anxious about his d~epest instinctual drives which rise to the surface of his life in the forms of desires for self-aggrandizement or self-destruction. Instinctive impulses are not taboo. There is no need to live in Hesnard's I'univers morbide de lafaute. If it is true that God cares "no matter what," then the individual can recognize his instincts as both a possibility and an opportunity to be laid hold of. He can accept himself as he is--the beginning of inner freedom. He can deal with his anxieties as they arise because he is sure of God's care. And he is sure that this care is creative. Thus good performance becomes not the singular source of security but the fruit of security and a cause for rejoicing and gratitude. Perhaps he does not understand very well what performance is asked or required or called for. But he will begin where he is and do what he can, confident that some answers, however partial or tentative, will be forthcoming. So he listens, is attentive, is alert to them, is open. Once we are aware of the graciousness of God's concern, we become aware too that we will grow in further recognition of values. The choice between Model A and Model B is a clear one. Model B takes its stand with the New Testament. Where do you take yours? Community Living: Some Options Barbara Hazzard, S.N.J.M. Sister Barbara is the principa, l of Holy Spirit Elementary School in Fremont. She offers spiritual guidance and, for the past five years, has been directing retreats and has been on the summer staff of the Jesuit Retreat House, Los Altos. She resides at 3930 Parish Avenue; Fremont, CA 94536. " During the past few years, my concern about community life has become acute. Being a spiritual director and retreat guide for sisters of many dif-ferent communities has made me very aware of the problems which exist in community life today. The greatest problem seems to be the indifference or fear which members of a group have with regard to helping one another lead a deeply Christian life. There are all .kinds of things which can and do serve as anesthetics against this problem: overwork, socializing, formal religious exercises, meetings, professional commitments, family commit-ments, television--and time passes on, and the frustration grows. The following remarks are one person's perception of a need, and one way of dealing with that need. They arise out bf my faith in and hope for the future of religious life--in gratitude to the religious who have shared a similar faith and hope with me. An active, in opposition to contemplative, religious congregation is founded primarily to fulfill a need of the times; i.e., caring for the poor, caring for the sick, instructing the ignorant, and so forth. A religious con-gregation is a group of people who come together to live out the gospel with a certain emphasis on a particular facet of the gospel message. The under-lying purpose of coming together is twofold: to support and encourage one another in living a faith life, and to work together to proclaim the gospel to others. The first part, the support and encouragement of one another in 501 51~2 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 living a faith life, remains constant. It should become deeper and richer as the group grows in faith. The second part, the particular work of the group, is subject to change as the needs of the times shift. The concern here regards the first part of our purpose. Our pragmatic, materialistic culture has not left religious communities untouched. Most active congregations in the United States live on the level of the upper middle class. They do not want materially for much. This is not a reflection on individuals, but rather a reflection on the life-style and image which organized religious groups live and project in today's world--and on the need to look at that life-style and image. Does the nourishment of our faith-life in fact vivify our witness of the gospel, or are we a group of educated, efficient people running institutions with only a "flavor" of Christianity? Are the demands of the gospel too risky? Do we hide behind "prudence" and "practicality" as an excuse for not living our beliefs more radically? The values of Jesus seem contradictory to the values of some of his followers. He led a poor life, dependent on his Father and those around him. He was not identified with aspecific "cause" of his time, yet dealt with the problems at hand. Much of his ~problem" concerned organized religion and its ministers, those who were more concerned with the letter than with the spirit, who said one thing and did another. If Jesus were to walk this earth today, he would most likely have a similar experience. Jesus' only desire was to do whatever it was his Father wanted of him. He often sought time for prayer, alone and with his disciples, in order to know his Father's will. How often do .members of religious orders come together today in prayer specifically to know the Father's will for them, being open and ready to accept whatever that may be? There is always time for chapters, com-mittee meetings, renewal meetings, and more. Where is the time for cor-porate prayer? And how many would come if the time were provided? Is there a fear of the changes that might reveal "the Father's will"? The words uttered by so many religious today are phrases like: "I'm not surewhat we are about any more." "'I'm so tired most of.the time I can't pray.' . I feel as though I live in a boarding house. What kind of~:ommunity life do we have?" There are no simple answers. But such statements must be heard as symptoms of a condition which needs to be treated. What is necessary in order to begin the process? The primary condition is a willingness to change on the part of the individual religious, a will-ingness to say, "I am willing to try a different life-style or to adjust my life-style-- and to risk failure in trying--in order to improve the quality of my life." Time is needed, which means curtailing other commitments, to pray, to talk, to listen, to plan, not in the context of a chapter, but by coming together in small groups, for those who are willing. A clarification of val.ues is necessary. For some, the priority is the apostolate which feeds their Community Living: Some Options prayer, and their community life. For others, the priority is prayer which nourishes both community and apostolate. For still others, community life nurtures prayer and the apostolate. Certainly prayer, community life, and the apostolate are not separate entities. All three should flow together, but the emphasis will vary according to the movement of the Spirit within the ¯ person. Which emphasis? This is where, in honesty, individuals must recognize a need in them-selves and choose one of these emphases. This does not mean that only people who think alike should form local communities, but that those who live together should have a common value-base on which community life may build. The types of support needed by individuals vary. It does not have to be the same in every living situation, but it has to exist in some form in each local community if community life is going to be something more than a glorified sorority or fraternity. Pluralism seems to be the angle from which life in active communities is being re-thought. The above suggestion is a form of pluralism in life-style. Yes, this will create tension. But does not tension already exist in the living of religious life--a tension which is not always growth producing? Religious cannot use the excuse of "obedience" as a reason for what does or does not happen in a religious congregation. Each one is responsible for the quality of life within the community, and cannot let others bear the burden of that responsibility without himself becoming involved. This is a danger, especially in large, congregation.s. There are many discontented religious, discontented in the sense of looking for something more in religious life, a challenge, a way of life that is more meaningful. Just being identified with a large institution is not meaningful or necessarily religious in the sense of living and/or proclaiming the gospel message effectively. This is not to suggest a way of life that is inbred, but rather a means of nurturing the spiritual life in a way that will help to make the apostolate more joyful and perhaps more fruitful. It is a way of giving a support, encouragement, and real Christian freedom cen-tered on the gospel and a communal experience of helping each other to grow into the fullness which is Christ. 504 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 To initiate this process, two or three people who feel comfortable with one another might come together and, after some time taken for reflection, answer the following questions: 1) Why (have I come) am I still in religious life? 2) In which area have I channeled my energy (or let it be channeled) over the last 3, 5, 10, 15 years (prayer, community, apostolate)? 3) What experiences in religious life have freed me to be who God wants me to be--before him, with my confreres, in my apostolate? 4) What has impeded my ability to respond to what I feel the Spirit has asked of me? 5) If I am really honest, what ~teps do I need to take in order to align my life more closely with gospel values? Sharing one's thoughts and feelings about these questions, or others in a similar vein, will begin to help the individual to see the direction God is leading him or her in a communal effort to deepen one's living out of religious life. This paper has only made a small dent in the problem; but, hopefully, some who read it will be creative in finding other ways to begin to act. I would be grateful to have some practical suggestions, ways of im-plementing what. has been suggested in these pages. Perhaps there could follow an article incorporating these practical suggestions at a later date. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS HAS MOVED! As of June 19, the editorial office of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS has relocated from its Grand Boulevard location to its new address: Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, MO 63108 Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism Bede Thomas Mudge, O.H.C. Father Mudge is novice master for his Anglican community, the Order of the Holy Cross. He resides in Holy Cross Monastery; West Park, NY 12493. The Protestant Reformers of the sixteenth century embarked on what they considered to be a radical "renewal" process on behalf of the Church, a process which is not without some parallels to the renewal of contemporary Christianity. Before their energy had spent itself, the Reformers called into qupstion nearly every important institution of European Christianity, and demanded searching, justification, and often, change or abolition. Any institution or custom that was judged to be valueless or hurtful from the point of view of reformed theology was thoroughly rooted out. Among the casualties of this rooting-out were the religious commu-nities. The reasons for their abolition were usually stated in theological or social categories, the most frequently quoted being an abhorrence of cel-ibacy as "unnatural," and a dislike of any lifelong vow other than that of marriage. But there were other, not quite so noble reasons, as well. Many of the religious communitieg were conservative and anything but welcom-ing to the "New Theology," and so served as centers of resistance to the Reformation. In addition, the great wealth of some of them was a scandal to the Reformers, and a temptation to the keepers of government coffers. In every territory where the Reformers' theology gained ascendancy, an intense campaign was launched against the monasteries and conventg, in which the State usually lent its coercive power to the Reformers' fervor. In a remarkably short time, the communities were disbanded, their members 505 506 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 dispersed, and monasticism as an institution ceased to exist in the Re-formed churches) But, alone of the Reformation bodies, Anglicanism never rested easy with the absence of religious orders in its structure. Almost from the time when the Reformation struggle began to quiet, there were voices raised in defense of the reestablishment of religious communities in England, and various public and private proposals were made and discussed. In the seventeenth century an extraordinary community experiment was actually begun by Nicholas Ferrar at LittleGidding, which has exercised a great fascination for Anglicans ever since. Nicholas, together with his extended family, established a quasi-monastic community in which a form of Office was observed that involved the recitation of the entire Psalter twice each day, and a vigorous social apostolate was maintained in the neighborhood. The community did not survive Nicholas' death, however, and suspicion, and anti-Roman prejudice, made it necessary for the reestablishment of traditional monastic com.munities in Anglicanism to wait until the mid-nineteenth century. Even then, religious communities were not established easily or without trials. Persecution, slander and occasional imprisonment rewarded those who dared to import "Romish" doctrines.or institutions into the Church of England, and many of the early experiments in com-munity life had quietness and obscurity forced on them as the price of their survival. But some of the founders did persevere, and eventually their communities grew, and even prospered. In the century and a quarter that have.passed since the reestablishment of religious comriiunities in Anglicanism, these communities have spread and become an accepted part of the Anglican Church scene. Though not numerous nor particularly large by Roman Catholic standards, the Anglican communities have nevertheless been influential, particularly in matters re-lating to the ~piritual life and to social concern. Though it is still not unusual to find people, both outside and inside the Anglican Church, who are only vaguely aware that "there are Episcopal nuns," the communities have gradually gained~ the trust and affection of their Church at large, and are now welcomed and encouraged, whereas at their inception, rejection and persecution were more normal reactions.2 The Spirituality of Anglicanism Any discussion of spirituality in Anglican .religious communities must necessarily take place in the context of the general spirituality of Angli-tThe sixteenth century was, to be sure, a period of low ebb in community life. Very few of the dispersed religious chose to flee to a Catholic territory where they could continue their life. They appear mostly to have settled down quietly, often supported by a government pension, and often they marred. The Carthusian martyrs of London were as remarkable for the rarity of their example, as for their fervor. 2An excellent historical summary of this'period, and histories of the foundations of the various communities can be found in Peter Anson, The Call of the Cloister, SPCK, 1956. Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism / 507 canism. But, in turn, it would not be possible to speak of Anglican spir-ituality without speaking of monasticism, because Anglican piety, depends heavily on the pre-Reformation monastic influence in England, and par-ticularly that of the Benedictine communities. It has been said that Ben-edictinism influenced English society to a greater extent than was true anywhere else in Europe. England was converted, in large part, by Ben-edictine monks. Its principal schools were operated byBenedictines, its cathedrals and principal churches were largely Benedictine foundations, and Benedictines were widely influential in the government. The Cistercian reform of Benedictinism was also influential in England, and its monasteries large and popular) The influence of the Benedictine tradition was part of the air that every medieval English person breathed. From one's earliest years, through education and into whatever station in life a person be-longed, the influence of the Abbey or Priory was never far away. And this influence was nowhere more pervasive than in the piety of the English people.4 The monastic offices and masses were commonly attended by the public; monastic spirituality was respected; and abbot and monk were part of the common scene, and likely to be respected or even beloved. Though definite Augustinian and Franciscan strains can be discerned in historic Anglican devotion, the example and influence of the Benedictine mon-astery, with its rhythm of divine office and eucharist, the tradition of learn-ing and the lectio divina, and the family relationship among abbot and community were determinative for much English life, and for the pattern of English devotion. This devotional pattern persevered through the spiritual and theological upheavals of the Reformation. The Book of Common Prayer, which was composed during the course of the Reformation, and has been the primary spiritual source-book for Anglicans ever since, continued the basic mo-nastic pattern of the eucharist and the divine office as the principal public forms of worship, and Anglicanism has been unique in this respect. Con-tinental Catholicism developed a devotional pattern centered around the eucharist, with extra-liturgical devotions such as the rosary and benediction filling the needs of most laymen. The office was, in most places, considered the business of the clergy and religious, and since, in its full canonical form, it could only be recited in Latin, it tended to disappear from popular use, except in some of the forms of a "Little Office." Protestantism developed, in most places, a worship pattern that included .very infrequent celebrations of the eucharist, as it was a Reformation principal that the eucharist should. not be celebrated unless the congregation received communion, and most aCudously enough, the purely English communities, such as the Gilbertines, while they did exist, never attained anything like the popularity of the communities which observed the Benedictine Rule. 4This influence of monastic spirituality on Anglican devotion is fully discussed in Martin Thornton, English Spirituality, SPCK, 1963. 5011 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 laymen of the time could not be persuaded to receive frequently. The worship pattern that developed was either a truncated form of the mass, as in Lutheranism, or a more informal worship service, retaining some ele-ments of the office, and supplemented by meetings for free prayer. In England alone it was the divine office that came to occupy a central de-votional position. This development was a direct carry-over from the days in which many people had attended celebrations of the office at the local abbey or priory, particularly Lauds and Vespers. But it owed much of its success to the liturgical genius of Thomas Cranmer, who in his compilation of the offices of Morning Prayer and Evensong produced what Louis Bouyer has referred to as "one of the purest forms of Christian common prayer to be found anywhere in the world."5 The devotion of Anglicans to the office has continued up to the present time. In some parish churches, though admittedly not all by any means, the office is recitedmorning and evening each day, as the Book of Common Prayer has traditionally re-quired. In some places, it is still the principal service of worship on Sun-days, and when groups of Anglicans gather, whether clergy or lay, whether for worship, business or social purposes, it is not unusual to begin the gathering with the recitation of Morning or Evening Prayer.6 The framework supplied by eucharist and office was supplemented, in Anglicanism, by an informal sort of lectio divina, characterized by a de-votion to the reading and pondering of the scriptures and other dex, otional material. When English editions of the Bible first began appearing in parish churches it was often necessary to chain them to the wall or lectern, to prevent people from stealing them for their own use. Later, when the spread of the printing press made the scriptures more available, there was also an extraordinary development of spiritual writing by men such as Jeremy Taylor and William Law, characterized by biblical and patristic inspiration and warm human feeling, and these works were widely circu-lated and read. There is also a deep current of devotion to the writings of the Church Fathers in Anglicanism.It is an Anglican maxim that Anglicans refer to the Fathers in the same way that Roman Catholics refer to the Pope, and Protestants to the Bible. A large proportion of English editions of patristic writings has historically been the work of Anglican editors. There has also been found in traditional Anglican piety, a distinct strain of "homeliness," as it is sometidaes called. A warm, tolerant, human de-votion based on loving persuasion, rather than fiery oratory is part of the Anglican temper. Historically, the Anglican clergy, being family men them-selves, have been very much part of the domestic scene in the villages and 5Louis Bouyer, Liturgical Piety, Notre Dame, 1955, p. 47. 6This is somewhat less common at the present, as under the influence of liturgical r~form, more frequent celebrations of the eucharist are being held, and often supplant the office. But it is worth noting that many Anglicans, including those most eager to center worship around the eucharist, are still uneasy at the loss of the office as a popular form of devotion. Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism / 51)9 parishes where they served, and have often been loved as well as revered. The Anglican liturgical calendar has more commemorations of faithful pas-tors, such as George Herbert, than of fiery missionaries, and even Anglican martyrs have commonly been of gentle disposition. Anglicanism has always been more attracted by the image of the Church as family, rather than militia, and the similarity evoked to a community of monks, living as a family, under an abbot who leads them as a father, is far from accidental. There is little extravagance in the English temper, and Anglican de-votion is usually characterized by a basic simplicity and directness that shun~ much of the emotionalism and the devotional frills of post-Refor-mation continental piety. In this, the English temper ~naturaily joins hands with the emphasis on biblical centrality that was a chief Reformation prin-ciple~ There is devotion to the Blessed Sacrament and to the saints in Anglicanism, but it is most often drawn from a scriptural and patristic outlook, with an emphasis on simplicity and emotional understatement, and later devotions have had small appeal for Anglicans. Thus, the pattern of Anglican devotion which developed was a modified form of monastic piety; the celebration of the eucharist (though sometimes quite infrequently),7 the regular recitation of the Psalter and proclamation of the scriptures in the office, fleshed out by private pondering of the Bible, the Fathers and other devotional writings, usually of a sober and gentle style. The Restoration of Monasticism The founding of specifically monastic communities in the Church of England began in the middle of the nineteenth century, shortly after the commencement of the "Oxford Movement," whose proponents wished to restore elements of Catholic belief and worship to the Anglican Church. Several communities for women were founded in the 1850's and 1860's, after some faltering starts, and the first lasting community for men followed shortly thereafter. The first communities lived under the suspicious eyes of a public still steeped in anti:papalism, and so the beginnings were cautious and semi,private. Little publicity attended the foundings of the commu-nities, and the public stir raised by even a little publicity was considerable. Against this background, it is not surprising that the first communities went out of their way to justify their existence by a great devotion to works of charity. Social work with the poor, the operation of "penitentiaries" for wayward women, and nursing were favorite occupations, and among the nursing sisters that Florence Nightingale took with her in her famous mis-sion to the Crimea were several sisters of the newly-founded (Anglican) 71n the eighteenth century faith and devotion fell to a very low ebb, and it is related that there was no eucharist on Easter Day in St. Paul's Cathedral in London one year, because the Prayer Book requires that at least two or three members of the congregation receive communion, if there is to be a celebration, and that many communicants could not be found. 510 / Review for Religious,,Volume 37, 1978/4 Society of the Holy Trinity. The often heroic work accomplished by the first members of the communities in slums and with people in desperate con-ditions did much to allay suspicion, and to create an atmosphere of tol-erance for their existence, if not of actual devotion to them. But while the works of the early communities were important and needed, it was the spiritual and communal life which drew applicants, and in this atmosphere the basically monastic pattern of Anglican spirituality, which had survived three centuries after the Reformation, had its inevitable effect. No matter how active the apostolate of the community, thecor-porate recitation of a full form of the office was present in all of the com-munities from the very start,8as was the cultivation of a personal devotional life which was more characteristic of cloistered communities in Roman Catholicism. It is an unusual Anglican community which has not had as part of its tradition the singing of the office to the plainsong melodies, a good deal of corporate silence, and a tradition of the cultivation of an intense devotional life, based on scriptural and patristic sources. The traditional emphasis on monastic learning and writing also appeared, even in very active communities, and a sizeable number of works on prayer and spiritual direction have been produced, which is all the more remarkable considering the relatively small number of Anglican. religious. Nor is it unusual for Anglican laymen to expect that any member of any community will be able to speak about prayer and give spiritual direction. It should also be noted that, with no experience of monasticism closer than three hundred years, and with the traditional freedom of Anglicanism, some of the early experiments in the monastic life were distinctly unfor-tunate. Some were merely bizarre, such as in the excesses of Fr. Ignatius' Benedictines of Llanthony in Wales, .or the Benedictines of Caldey Island, who attempted to recreate a wildly romanticized version of a medieval abbey, but some were unwise in other ways. The combination of heavy and demanding work, coupled with the expectation of full participation in choir and in long hours of prayer with a sometimes rigorous asceticism taught several communities the lesson of moderation the hard way. But such mistakes were largely unavoidable. Few bishops would have anything to do with the developing communities, for fear of being labeled "Romanist," and the ecumenical movement was far in the future, so the only advice to be gained from Roman Catholic religious was: "convert!" Experienced guidance was simply unavailable. The lessons of the Desert Fathers and of medieval monasticism had to be learned again, by experiment, in nine-teenth century England. But in spite of mistakes and misjudgments, the monastic experiment in Anglicanism took root, prospered and spread. There are now a large num-ber of communities in England, and others in former English colonies, as SUsually an English translation of the Roman Breviary. Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism well oaS indigenous communities in Africa, the Far East and the South Pacific. !n the American Episcopal Church there are approximately twenty communities, about two-thirds of them for women. With time came not only numerical growth, but also a gradual acceptance by the mainstream of the Church, and with this acceptance a freedom to adopt usages and customs to taste. But whereas it might have been expected that this freedom would lead to a divergence of types of religious life, the pattern has, in fact, remained surprisingly consistent and true to traditional mo-nastic roots. Anglicanism has not, to this time at least, developed "active" com-munities, and the expressions of the religious life that presently attract the largest numbers in the Roman Catholic Church are completely absent from the Anglican scene. There arena few cloistered orders for men and for women, but the majority of the communities are classified as "mixed" in the traditional terminology. All have a tradition of a corporate Office, often an English translation of the Benedictine breviary, and the office is com-monly sung to plainsong where the numbers permit it.9 All have a deep commitment to the life of prayer, and have developed timetables and physical surroundings that enabled them to foster this prayer. A family style of government usually prevails, with a superior who is elected by all of the professed members, and a chapter that usually consists of all of the mem-bers of the community. This has been possible because of the small size of most of the communities. Anglican communities have never grown in num-bers beYond about four to five hundred, and the vast majority have had less than fifty professed at any one time. The family ethos has been carried over into the apostolate of the community, which has nearly always been carried out in a community context, and rarely by individuals outside the com-munity. But a wide latitude has usually been available inside the family context, with individuals often encouraged to develop their own talents and abilities. It may be objected that the absence of the figure of the abbot or abbess would make it difficult to classify a community as "Benedictine." Most Anglican communities do, in fact, have a regularly elected "superior," with a limited term of office, and not much of the mystique of abb, atial dignity. The Anglican. communities would, admittedly, need to be classified as a hybrid form of Benedictinism on this a~count. But it is also true that ~he size ¯ of most Anglican communities, together~ with their traditional family ethos, have conspired to make the superior much more of a "mother" or "father" than an executive. We can also note that a limited term of office is more and more characteristic even of abbots in the Roman Catholic communities 9It is sometimes surprising to Roman Catholics how few may be "required." If they have good voices (and sometimes if they don't) a house composed of three or four Anglican religious will sombtimes maintain a full sung office. 512 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 these days. The title of Anglican superiors has usually not been "abbot," but the reality is often not far removed from the traditional abba. The pattern of community life that has been described has had one development that came as a surprise to many of the early religious, and runs counter to the .historical development of western monasticism. The first religious in the west were contemplatives, with active communities de-veloping only later. In Anglicanism, the first communities were forced to be active in order to justify themselves, but always maintained as much touch with the monastic tradition as circumstances allowed. With such an im-petus, some of the religious quickly developed contemplative vocations, and the communities eventually responded by making room in their struc-ture for living ,such ,vocations, after suitable testing. More than this, several entire omr~nities have gradually been called to an exclusively contem-plative vo.cation after° a very active beginning. The Society of the Holy Trinity, ".the Sisters of the Precious Blood, and the Community of the Holy Cross, all .English women'.s communities, had very active beginnings, with demanding social apostolates, and all have given up most of their external works and become .contemplative communities. Side by side with this de-velopment, there have been several attempts through the yeffrs to establish traditionally "Benedictine" ,communities, properly so-called, and several of these attempts have been successful. There are, of course, exceptions to the pattern outlined, as for instance, the sizeable Society of St. Francis, and the Community of the Glorious Ascens!on, which is based on a model roughly similar to the Little Brothers of Jesus. But these are more recent developments, and have necessarily .bee6 ch~ aracterized by a certain self-.consciousness about their ethos, which has, served as a battlement against the tides that have swept most Anglican religious communities into a remark.ably similar pattern and style. Cow,temporary Renewal It is obvious from this analysis that the history of religious life in the ~.n.glican Church has several marked differences to that in the Roman C,a.tholic communion. Anglican com~.unities are of relatively recent date, .and many of them have older members who are within memory, or at least within one gbneration, of their foundin, g. Having often begun on an active pattern, the communities have grad~a,!!y developed a more traditionally monastic life, and this has been done as .the result of a consensus of the members 9f the community. The offiC.~'~ habit, times of silence and such, have been deliberately chosen, often against a background of some per- .secution. This necessarily means that'ii~e pattern of renewal in Anglican communities has been quite different from most Roman Catholic com-munities. Since Anglican communities are reasonab.ly close, historically, to the decisions that formed the pattern of their. !ife, and since these decisions Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism / 513 have usually been made by consensus of the community, there has been little reason to view the details of their lives as imposed by an outside authority. In addition, the religious orders have never been seen as a pri-mary source of personnel for social or missionary work. Anyone whose real calling is to a social ministry or a missionary vocation has always had many other options in the Anglican framework, and few people have entered the communities without some leaning, at least, toward monastic observances. This has caused the outward forms of .the recent renewal to appear con-servative by Roman Catholic standards. Though members of the men's communities have, on occasion, worn secular clothing for some years, all of them retain their habit at least for corporate worship and for formal occasions. Among the women's communities habits have usually been modified only slightly, if at all, and the number of women religious who regularly wear secular dress is very small. The office continues to be said by all communities, and if four offices a day rather than seven o~' eight is becoming a common pattern, they are often quite traditional in form, and continue to be sung to plainsong. A wider variety of work or ministry is often now available, but many of the traditional works continue, and some of the communities are moving, if anything, in a more contemplative di-rection. Anglican religious have, for the most part, deliberately chosen the observances of traditional monasticism, and are not eager to be rid of them. But it would be a mistake to assume, since renewal has not changed Anglican communities much externally, that their reform has been shallow. In many communities there has been a deep and searching process of change in the spirit that lay behind the observances. This has occurred, not surprisingly, in a direction dictated by the tradition that lies behind most Anglican communities. The. urge towards deeper and more authentic prayer has already been alluded to. There has also been a movement toward the deepening of the "family" ethos which has always been the ideal. Various structures of behavior, largely from the Victorian era (when many of our communities were founded) have been laid aside, and an emphasis on human relationships, the possibility of deep friendships, and an increasing emphasis on government by consensus have been common. Above all, there has been a struggle to advance the priority of the human element over legalistic requirement. In addition, Anglican communities have often been the centers of creative change in the liturgical field as well, and, while their experiments may seem somewhat conservative in comparison to similar situations in Roman Catholic communities, they have not infrequently been quite advanced by the standards of an ordinary Anglican or Episcopal parish. There has been at least one additional change in the past decades that is more difficult to chart or document, but it is of great importance to Anglican religious. A growing sense of'confidence in their own identity has gradually made itself felt. Born without parents, so to speak, Anglican 514 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 communities had to develop with little outside advice and no Anglican tradition to guide them, and all of this in an era when "doing it right" was very important. Anglican~ engaged in the founding of religious communities were surrounded by fellow Anglicans, on the one side, screaming "heresy," and by Roman Catholics, on the other, accusing them of being inauthentic imitations of no consequence; and the accusations were some-times, at least, half believed. This caused the adoption of many curious and sometimes inauthentic customs because "the Romans are doing it." But a century and a quarter of maturing, and the recent currents of change have brought relief from the concept that there was only one way to be correctly religious. A feeling of solidity and authenticity is beginning to pervade Anglican communities, where before there was some glancing over the shoulder to see if we were still doing it correctly. The history of religious communities in Anglicanism has been different from Roman Catholic com-munities; their problems have been different, and so the course of their renewal has been different, as will be their future form. Anglican com-munities have been called by God to serve a Church which is characterized by conservative liturgies, a deep sense of the awe and mystery of worship, and great freedom in doctrinal and social matters. The communities reflect this pattern, as they must, if they are to be authentic servants in the An-glican communion. "You're Benedictine, of course" Not infrequently these days, Anglican religious are invited to meetings of Roman Catholic religious, and often asked to describe their community. Normally the reply is that there is no exact counterpart to our life in the Roman Catholic Church, but that we have found our own expression of the religious life. But when asked to describe that expression in detail, it is interesting to note how often the reply is: "Oh, you're Benedictine, of course." Though only a few of our communities have sought to identify themselves as Benedictines or even tried consciously to imitate a Bene-dictine pattern, this reaction can hardly be a surprise. From their inception, Anglican communities have operated under the influence of a devotional pattern that took its'inspiration from Benedictine and Cistercian ab-beysmthe pattern of a family, deeply united by prayer and the liturgy, pondering the scriptures and other writings, and overflowing from its de-votional life in a gentle, caring ministry to those around them. It is a pattern that has been inherited fi:om a nation whose monks, scholars, teachers, historians, rulers, missionaries and martyrs were often either Benedictines themselves or under direct Benedictine influence, and the pattern has proved surprisingly stable, through the changes and reforms of several generations:' The pattern which Pope Gregory the Great hoped to plant in England when, in the seventh century, he sent. Augustine to Canterbury to convert the English people still perseveres, not only in England, but in large Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism / 515 parts of the world. And this pattern, to which the name "Benedictine" is often given, has proved sturdy enough that it served as the model and guide for religious life when it was revived after three hundred years of absence in Anglicanism. Reeds The wind is voiceless until it finds an instrument: the long-drawn sough and sigh of conifers the maples" glee the oaks" deep diapason untutored symphony. I stood apart to hear them all together: acaccia sprinkled bells upon the air and chaliced elms' glad notes all spilling exultant as the skylark's trilling The beech clapped drily cadence keeping Only my song was still. The Spirit came in wind, then, (I had long known .the fire fed by the oils of my anointing) I listened there upon the hillside: "'Peace," said the wind upon me Peace unto all whom I meet "Peace," and the winds grew quiet "Peace! I am with you-- Know my peace." Mary R. Quinn 1201 Canton Ave. Baltimore, MD 21227 Compassion: A Spirituality for Today M. Corita Clarke, R.D.C. Sister Corita, a Sister of the Divine Compassion, is Chairperson of the Religious Studies Department of Preston High School. She resides at the school; 2780 Schurz Ave.; Bronx, NY ! 0465. ~nterest, concern, even fascination for the quest for a viable personal spirituality is as old as the history of primitive religions and as contem-porary as today's newspaper. To some persons the renewed interest in spirituality in this decade of the twentieth century seems an anachronism or a fad. Yet even a cursory study of the experience of people today, whether viewed through the eyes of the historian, the psychologist or the theologian, indicates that the phenomenon of such a renewal is a very natural devel-opment. Both an older generation which has survived the effects of worldwide wars, nuclear holocausts, genocide attempts and concentration camp realities, and a younger generation which has grown up in the more affluent yet tension-ridden, de-personalized milieu of the computerized world of technopolis, are responding to their deepest human yearnings in their search for a spiritual dimension to their lives. Centuries ago St. Augustine shared the insight that "God is always more." I think that the conviction born of human experience and the Judaeo-Christian revelation is that "so is man, always more," called to become, to grow, to move beyond wherever he is, to realize his human potential--also for intimacy with the divine! Spirituality is concerned with this search for the transcendent dimension to life both beyond and within the person, and with the mode of living which flows from its apprehension. We have the capacity ~to live a "spiritual" life because as human persons we possess an inner spirit which is the principle of our conscious life and 516 Compassion: A Spirituality for Today / 517 the source of our integration as persons. Through this spirit we are capable of an intuition of the transcendent, of a reflective awareness of ourselves and of a depth dimension within ourselves, and are conscious of our ability for self-transcendence. In our Christian experience spirituality flows from an awareness of the Spirit of God within us, and our spiritual life is a lived response to this Spirit within, in an attempt to facilitate or mediate the further presence of that Spirit of God in the world. It is my conviction that the basis for a relevant Christian spirituality for today is to be found in a clear understanding of the quality of compassion. It will be within the scope of this paper to look at compassion from various angles in order to see the richness contained in this human virtue and to realize more clearly its relation to our experience of transcendence and our challenge to live our spirituality as compassionate persons. The Experience of Transcendence Any attempt to elaborate a contemporary spirituality comes up against the enduring tension between transcendence and immanence, between that which calls us beyond and that which cries out for recognition in the here and now. I would like first to strive for a greater clarity in our understanding of the category of the transcendent, and then proceed to an analysis of compassion as providing the key to reconciling these seeming antinomies. James Fowler has defined faith as "the knowing or construing by which persons apprehend themselves as related to the Transcendent.''~ For Fowler, the Transcendent is the ultimate condition of existence, the Being we have in religious faith called God, and a person's relationship to the Transcendent involves power, limitations, and the sources of value and meaning of existence. In the Judaeo-Christian religious tradition this has involved a personal relationship to a God whose presence has been ex-perienced by individuals and by the community. In addition to this specific religious terminology, the adjective transcendent and the noun transcen-dence have wide usage in a more secular sense. Abraham Maslow has given thirty five definitions or explanations of transcendence which can be sum-marized in his statement that transcendence."refers to the very highest and most inclusive or holistic levels of human consciousness, behaving and relating, as ends rather than as means, to oneself, to significant others, to human beings in general, to other species, to nature, and to the cosmos.''z And even here, in those who can experience such full humanness, those whom Maslow calls "transcenders," there is the "ability to perceive the ~James W. Fowler III, "Toward A Developmental Perspective on Faith," Religious Ed-ucation, LXIX (March-April, 1974), p. 207. ZAbraham Maslow, The Farther Reaches of Human Nature (New York, Viking Press, 1971), p. 275. 511~ / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 sacred within the secular, or the sacredness in all things at the same time, ,,3 Within this notion of transcendence are all those movements, experiences or realities which beckon persons on, which disturb complacency and call us beyond, which alert us to the "more" in human life and our own personal existence, which sociologist Peter Berger has called "hints" or "signals" of the Transcendent,4 and which are the source of~Augustine's "restless-ness" of heart. When the noun transcendence becomes converted to a verb, we have also the notion of self-transcendence, that movement of a person beyond self-interest or concern because of a focus on another~person, an ideal or a goal. In its richest manifestations, self-transcendence is an act of love, the highest form of human activity. Viktor Frankl has written that "Human existence is essentially self-transcendence not self-actualization,''s and contemporary psychology b~ars witness to this capacity for self-sacrifice as an essential norm of full human maturity. We will return to this aspect of self-transcendence in our treatment of compassion. When a person becomes aware of the transcendent dimension of life, and especially when that awareness leads to the Transcendent God, the result is, in the words of Abraham Heschel, awe. Awe is a sense for the transcendence, for the reference everywhere to mystery beyond all things. It enables us to perceive in the world intimations of the divine, to sense in small things the beginning of infiniti~ significance, to sense the ultimate in the common and the simple; to feel in the rush of the passing the stillness of the eternal.6 For Heschel, faith is, as it is for Fowler, an attachment to the Trans-cendent, to the attractiveness of a God Who hides himself in mystery. Yet ¯ the biblical revelation tells us that beyond all mystery is meaning. "God is neither plain meaning nor just mystery. God is meaning that transcends mystery . meaning that speaks through mystery.''7 When the God who is, by the very nature of his being, Transcendent, attempts to speak through mystery and reaches out into the realm of human experience, we speak of tiis becoming immanent to us, to his creation. How does this mystery express itself?. Heschel says it is the destiny of human persons "to articulate what is concealed. The divine seeks to be disclosed in the human."s In our discussion of spirituality we have stated that our spirituality flows aIbid., p. 283. 4Peter L. Berger, A Rumor of Angels (New York, Doubleday, 1969). ~Viktor Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning (New York, Washington Square Press, 1963), p. 175. 6Abraham J. Heschel, Who Is Man? (Stanford, California, Stanford University Press, 1969), p. 89. 71bid., p. 77. 6Ibid., p. 77. Compassion: A Spirituality for Today / 519 from our apprehension of the divine, of the Spirit within and 'without, and is our mode of living which attempts to incarnate the presence of God. It is precisely in this understanding of God which we discern from the biblical revelation, and in the consequent imperatives for our Christian life, that I believe an understanding of compassion plays such a central role. It is my conviction that the divine (the Transcendent) has revealed itself as com-passion, and that therefore the human discloses the divine through a spirituality that is founded on compassion. While subsequently I will de-lineate our experience and exercise of compassion as an expression of spirituality, I would like first to examine compassion as formative of our spirituality through an analysis of the divine compassion. Human com-passion and divine compassion are not dichotomies nor polarities, they are rather reciprocal concepts. There is only one real source of compassion and that is God's compassion. As Henri Nouwen has reminded us, "Our com-passion is nothing more or less than a participation in and a reflection of this divine compassion,''9 The Divine Compassion: The Bridge In his penetrating study, The Prophets,1° Abraham Heschel analyzes with depth and clarity the Old Testament revelation of the divine pathos, which he sees as the bridge between the transcendence and mystery of God and Israel's grasp of his love. For the Israelite, pathos is the expression of the attitude of attentive care and concern of God for his people. When Moses asked Yahweh his name, he received the reply, 'Yahweh, Yahweh, a God of tenderness and compassion" (Ex 34:5-6). In a recent issue of Spiritual Life, Kevin O'Shea suggests "that the divine nature is Com-passion, that God is to be defined by the heart of tenderness he has opened out tb us."11 This portrayal of Israel's God as a God of Pathos (the opposite - of apathy) is in sharp contrast to the gods of other nations of their t!me, who were distant (like the god of the philosophers), or impersonal, or presented as having human limitations such as jealousy and vindictiveness. The ex-pression of Yahweh's compassion was not mere feeling or emotion on the part of God, but was displayed in his active reaching out toward Israel--a God "in search of man.''~ The initial experience of Yahweh's concern was the covenant, which not only manifested God's mercy and great love, but also challenged Israel to grow as God's people through her response to his love. When Israel faltered or failed in her fidelity, the divine pathos re-vealed itself in anger and correction. In Heschel's words, God's "pathos is 9Henri Nouwen, "Compassion: The Core of Spiritual Leadership," Worship Jubilee (January, 1977), p. 21. 10Abraham Heschel, The Prophets (Vol. II) (New York, Harper & Row, 1975). nKevin O'Shea, C.SS.R., "Enigma and Tenderness," Spiritual Life, 21 (Spring, 1975), p. 18. 590 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 both a disclosure of his concern and a concealment of his power."12 The mission of the prophet in Israel was to articulate the nature and extent of the divine pathos, and to call the people to live the reality of their election. It was through his privileged insight into the experience of the pathos of God that the prophet developed his sympathy.(sym-pathos) for the concern of God. Seized by the power of this revelation, he was com-pelled to speak Yahweh's wrrd. Though his sympathy had as its source and focus the divine pathos, it was like that of Yahweh's, directed towards the people, the object of Yahweh's love. As Yahweh had identified himself with Israel (e.g., "My people," what was done to Israel was done to "Us"), so the prophet identified himself with the people, and each, from Moses to the last prophet, lived his vocation within the limitations and struggles of his time and history. God's involvement with Israel can be found on every page of the prophetic works. As with Jeremiah they experienced his word as a burning fire within, ~ind usually endured great personal suffering to deliver what was often an unpopular message. The hardheartedness of Israel is in sharp contrast to the loving relationship God was offering them: You whom I have taken from the ends of the earth and summoned from its far-off places, You whom I have called my servant whom I have chosen and will not cast off-- Fear not, I am with you; be not dismayed; I am your God. I will strengthen you, and help you, and uphold you with my right hand of justice (Is 41:9-10). In return, Yahweh asked a response of love; a love which when directed toward him would be fidelity and when shared with one another would flow out injustice. Micah encapsuled the covenant call in the beautiful text from 6:8: This is what Yahweh asks of you: to act justly to love tenderly and to walk humbly with your God, The psalmist who sang over and over that Yahweh's compassion and mercy endure forever, the prophet who spoke for Yahweh, "with ever-lasting love I will have compassion on you, says the Lord, your Redeemer" (Is 54:8), and Abraham Heschel who insists that the biblical message is not an abstraction but the "certainty that the Creator is the Redeemer"~3--all point to a reality which can only be understood in its fullness by one who has come to know Jesus. The pathos of God gave its utmost expression of love and concern in the incarnation and redemption of Jesus. Jesus comes as compassion incarnate, ~2Heschel, The Prophets, Vol. II, p. 12. ~albid., p. 47. Compassion: A Spirituality for Today / 52"1 as the prophet who not only fully apprehended the divine pathos, but is himself its visible embodiment. "God in search of man" becomes man himself and bridges .the gulf between transcendent mystery and human experience. Jesus, like the prophetic types before him, embraces the reality and consequences of being truly human. As Paul records in the early Chris-tian hymn: He emptied himself and took the form of a slave being born in the likeness of men. He was known to be of human estate, and it was thus that he humbled himself, obediently accepting even death, death on a cross! (Ph 2:7-8). Against the background of old Testament prophecy, Jesus is presented in the New Testament as the Prophet, one caught up in the message he has received from the Father, as he reiterates frequently in the Johannine tradition. His life is a lived experience of the reality of his perception of the Father's love. God's concern and love are his own, and he lives the im-plications of his message to their ultimate consequences. Jesus expresses his mission in the vision of the Isaian prophecy: He has come for the poor, the captives,, the blind and the.downtrodden, to proclaim the good news of the Father's love'(Lk 4:18; Is 61:1-2). He teaches his followers how to love one another (Jn 14:34-5), to be compassionate as their Father is compassionate (Lk 6:36-38), and gives concrete examples in his parables: the forgiving father of the prodigal son (Lk 15:11-32), and the compassionate Samaritan (Lk 10:25-37). He chal-lenges them to the self-transcendence involved in taking up one's cross daily (Lk 9:23-25), and gives them the witness of his own loving response to all whom he encounters along the way. He eats with sinners, embraces little children, weeps over Jerusalem, and identifies with the feelings and needs of the sick, the bereaved, the hungry, the repentant. His ministry is one of healing, forgiving, challenging, and total self-giving, and he suffers and dies for the truth of his message. In the life-giving power of his death and resurrection, the compassion of God has its supreme expression. In contrast to Rudolph Bultmann, who sees the Cross of Jesus as a stumbling block of Christianity, a contemporary Anglican writer, Alistar Kee, sees it as the most meaningful challenge to the Church today in its role to embody the life of Jesus in our time. Kee opts for a reinterpretation of Christian theology which would focus on J~sus as "the way of trans-cendence, in contrast to the way of immanence which characterizes the lives of individuals.''14 He believes that Jesus' total self-transcendence in his acceptance of the cross provides persons today with a powerful example ~4Alistar Kee, The Way of Transcendence (England, Penguin, 1971), p. 159. 522 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 which is "a consistent option" for human life, and which in reality is the only road to fulfillment. A Theology of Compassion Among the New Testament writers, perhaps none has presented this centrality of the cross to the Christian message more clearly than St. Paul, who saw his vocation to "preach Christ crucified" (1 Co 1:23). The cross for Paul was the. basic paradox of Christianity, and I think his compre-hension of its meaning both in the life of Jesus and in his own life formed the foundation for his theology of compassion. Paul personally experienced the compassion of God in his call from Judaism to preach the gospel of Jesus. "I am the least of the apostles; in fact, because I persecuted the Church of God, I do not even deserve the name. But by God's favor I am what I am. This favor of his to me has not proved fruitless" (1 Co 15:9-10). In his missionary work and sufferings, he was aware of the Lord's constant support and love. His mission and his letters to the Corinthian church are among the clearest loci for elucidating his theology. It would take many pages to elaborate on Paul's experiences and his teaching, but perhaps a brief outline will be sufficient. Like the prophets before him, Paul was captured' by the Word of the Lord. He became aware of God's mercy and love for him, and desired to share this love and this message with others to whom he was sent. Preach-ing the gospel was often surrounded With sufferings of all kinds, yet Paul could testify: He comforts us in all our afflictions and thus enables us to comfort those who are in trouble with the same con-solation we have received from hiha. As we have shared much in the suffering of Christ, so through Christ do we share abundantly in his consolation (2 Co 1:4-5). Paul, like Jesus and the prophets before him, identified with the people to whom he ministered, and this identification was chiefly in their weakness and sinfulness, where the presence and power of God was most clearly evident. For Paul, this power of God was revealed uniquely in the death and resurrection of Jesus (1 Co 1:18~25). For the Ch.ristian, the death of Jesus has become the source of life--weakness has triumphed in God. Christ ". was crucified out of weakness, but he lives by the power of God. We too are weak in him, but we live with him by God's power in us" (2 Co 13:4). This conviction that it is in the experience of weakness that he meets the compassionate Lord, is also expressed by Paul in one of the rare glimpses he gives us into his personal prayer. After three times begging the Lord to remove a source of temptation, he received the response, "My Compassion: A Spirituality for Today / 593 grace is enough for you, for in weakness, power reaches perfection." Paul concluded, "And so I willingly boast of my weakness instead, that the power of Christ may rest upon me" (2 Co 12:9), ". for when I am .powerless it is then that I am strong" (12:10). The outgrowth of Paul's experience of God's love and grace is a powerful sense of gratitude. "We seem to have nothing, yet everything is ours" (2 Co 6:10). This sense of being gifted by God is the foundation not only of thankfulness to God, but also the basis for the kind of love for one another that Paul believed should characterize the Chris.tian community. Among all the Lord's gifts, none is as important as love, which is a gift of divine power. In Paul's famous description of Christian love in 1 Corinthians 13 we have the supreme challenge to respond to God's love. This agape which involves such geotleness, forbearance and selflessness can only come from one who has come to terms with his own weakness and his strengthening through God's love for him. It is the bond uniting the ¯ community and it results in a shared compassion: "If one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; if one member is honored, all the members share its joy" (1 Co 12:26). Compassion for Paul seems to involve first a participation in the death dimension of Jesus' life by experiencing his own finitude and limitation. Then through faith in Jesus and baptism 'into his death, Paul shares in the life-giving power of God, acting in him as it did in the resurrection of Jesus. To the Christians of Rome Paul sent the powerful reminder: Are you not aware that we who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? Through baptism into his death~ we were buried with him, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live a new life (Rm 6:3-4). Speaking of his ministry Paul writes to the Corinthians: This treasure we possess in earthen vessels to make it clear that its sur-passing power comes from God and not from us. We are afflicted in every way possible, but we are not crushed; full of doubts, we never despair. We are persecuted but never abandoned; we are struck down but never destro.y. Con-tinually we carry about in our bodies the dying of Jesus, so that in our bodies the life of Jesus may be revealed. While we live we are constantly being delivered to death for Jesus" sake, so that the life of Jesus may be revealed in our mortal flesh (2 Co 4:7-11). 594 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 This experience of the divine compassion is in turn the source of Paul's love and understanding of others in their weakness, and of his urging them to share their love with one another. This mutual living in love is the strength of the community which fulfills Paul's exhortation to compas-sionate living: "Rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep" (Rm 12:15). With the background of this brief survey of the pathos of God, the divine compassion revealed in Jesus, and Paul's experience and teaching of the centrality of the Paschal Mystery in Christian life, we possess a foundation for the thesis that Christian theology is essentially a theglogy of compas-sion. If the biblical revelation which underlies our Christian faith is of a Transcendent God who bridges the infinite gulf between himself and us by the reality of his divine pathos, then our challenge in contemporary Chris-tianity is to discover ourselves not only as recipients of his compassionate love, but also as called to incarnate that love in our world through living a spirituality of compassion. A Description of Compassion Before discussing some implications for spirituality based on compas-sion, I would like to refine our understanding of the attitude of compassion and consider some valuable insights from a variety of sources and disci-plines. The richness contained in this concept, and its essential role in human relationships can only be touched on in a paper such as this, but hopefully, it will open up further areas for reflection and development. In its Latin derivation compassion literally means "to suffer with" (compatior). We have seen in the scriptural usage that it always implies some form of identification with human suffering. When speaking of God's compassion, the term often used was "mercy," from the Latin, miseri-cordia. Mercy denotes tenderness of heart, felt and expressed toward an-other, but at times its usage implies an attitude of condescension expressed toward an offender or one suffering disfavor or misfortune. In this sense it is closer to pity. When mercy flows from a loving heart which recognizes and identifies with the feeling and experience of the other, and promotes an appropriate response, it is closer to compassion. For Thomas Aquinas, God's mercy was known by its effects, and flowed from his goodness and love: To sorrow over the misery of others belongs not to God; but it does most properly belong to him to dispel that misery, whatever be the defect we call by that name. Now defects are not removed except by the perfection of some kind of goodness: and the primary source of goodness is God.~ ~Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, Vol. I (New York, Benziger, 1947), q. 21, a. 3. Compassion: A Spirituality for Today / 525 God's mercy, which has been called his supreme attribute, is never mere feeling, but always manifests itself in action. The New Testament abounds with examples of how Jesus, when moved with compassion, healed (the blind, the leper, the sick who approached him), forgave (the paralytic, the woman at Simon's house, the soldiers at the foot of the cross), or restored life (the widow's son, the brother of Martha and Mary). In an analogous way, human mercy is not measured by feeling but by concrete proofs, and when this expression of mercy flows from a sense of solidarity with the one who suffers, it is what we call compassion. As Rahner has written, "He who shows mercy receives more than he gives--the clear vision of his own emptiness which alone prevents him from losing the fullness he has re-ceived.''~ 6 Such an attitude preserves mercy from the taint of condescen-sion, and is a recognition of the Pauline theme that it is only in our aware-ness of our own weakness that we can experience God's power and be empowered to be a source of strength for others. The universality of this call to compassion can be seen by an awareness of its importance in many religious traditions in addition to the Judaeo- Christian revelation. A prime example of this is found in Buddhism where compassion is regarded as the highest virtue and is complementary to.the gift of wisdom. The Buddha had discovered the cosmic norm of truth through his attainment of wisdom (Pann6), and it was his primary desire to share this wisdom with those still enmeshed in the world of suffering. This compassion (Karuni~) was an outgrowth of his own contemplation, and hence, Buddha is designated a contemplative in action~ne whose self-enlightenment resulted in good for others. His compassion prevented his wisdom from being mere detached speculation, and his wisdom kept com-passion from being mere sentiment. Buddhism today (e.g., Mahay~tna Bud-dhism) continues this emphasis on the need to effect a liberation for men and women of our time. Because of our common destiny, compassion is viewed as the greatest reality. It is not achieved without great personal detachment, and thus involves the same renouncement and other-center-edness we have spoken of in connection with Jesus and the Christian's participation in the Paschal Myster

Issue 16.1 of the Review for Religious, 1957. ; A. M. D. G. Review for Religious JANUARY 15, 1957 The Religious Habit . Lee Teut:el The Squirrel Within Us. ~ . ~ra.cis J. MacEnte~ Roman Documents . R. I:. Smith Cloister of Nuns . jos.ph ~. G~I~. Book Reviews Questions and Answers VOLUME 16 NUMBER 1 RI::VII:W FOR RI:LIGIOUS VOLUME 16 JANUARY, 1957 NUMI~EIt 1 CONTENTS THE RELIGIOUS HABIT: SOME SISTERS' COMMENTS-- Lee Teufel, S.J . 3 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 9 NELL" TEST/IMENT .4BSTR.4CTS . 9 TRUNKS, DEATH, AND THE SQUIRREL WITHIN US~ Francis J. MacEntee, S.J . 10 SURVEY OF ROMAN DOCUMENTS--R. F. Smith, S.J . 13 SOME BOOKS RECEIVED . 35 PAPAL CLOISTER OF NUNS~Joseph F. Gallen, S.J . 36 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS-- Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, S.J. West Baden College, West Baden, Indiana . 56 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS~ 1. Qualities Necessary in Juniorate Teachers . 62 2. Simplification of Rubrics for Mass and Divine Office .62 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, January, 1957. Vol. 16, No. 1. Published bi-monthly by The Queen's Work, 3115 South Grand Blvd., St. Louis 18, Mo. Edited by the Jesuit Fathers of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesi-astical approval. Second class mail privilege authorized at St. Louis, Mo. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J.; Gerald Kelly, S.J; Henry Willmering, S.J. Literary Editor: Robert F. Weiss, S.J. Copyright, 1957, by The Queen's Work. Subscription price in U.S.A. and Canada: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U.S.A. Please send all renewals and new subscriptions to: Review for Religious, 3115 5outh Grand Boulevard, St. Louis 18, Missouri. Review J:or Religious Volume 16 January--Decem~er, 1957 Edited by THI: JESUIT FATHERS St. Mary's College St. Marys, Kansas Published by THE QUEEN'S WORK St. Louis, Missouri REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is indexed in I:he CATHOLIC PERIODICAL INDEX The Religious I-labit:: Some Sist:ers' Comment:s Lee Teu~;el, S.J. THE average woman who has beeri in religion 28.8 years con-siders her habit out of date, would simplify it radically, and replace cincture beads with a pocket rosary according to a surve'y made at Gonzaga University, Spokane, during the summer of 1956. The occasion of the survey was a two-week institute in per-sonal sanctity which attracted over 100 from 22 religious families of women. The survey was designed to sample reaction to the desire of Pope Plus XII to adapt the .religious garb to modern times. Questionnaires were given to 100 religious women. The 72 answers reflected an attitude that was holy and dedicated, and above all practical and feminine. None of the answers were frivolous and the cross-section of thought set forth could easily serve as a pattern for those religious superiors ot: women who are anxious to conform to the wishes of the Holy Father. To the question, "Do you consider your habit practical?" 41 said "No," while 19 replied "Yes"; 12 did not comment. ~ The reasons given for disapproval were interesting. "The sleeves are too full," one sister said, "and the rubberized collar across our chests makes it almost impossible to do anything above our chins." Another nun complained of "yards and yards of heavy, cumbersome material, with loose, wide sleeves that are always in the way." Still another thought" that "we lose half our energy carrying around so much yardage10 pounds of it--'tis vol-uminous." A third sister said, "I work in an office; the tele-phone receiver is constantly being cleaned on my headdress, leaving greasy stains." "I am a good worker," she continued, LEE TEUFEL Review for Religious "but when I am tired sometimes the very thought of getting up in the mor~iing' and carting all this SUPERFLUITY around all da~, discourages me: .~0This e~cess baggage saps my strength. How long, O Lord, how long?" Sisters from the classrooms e.xpressed little enthusiasm for large sta~ched "b~east-plates" tl~at hindered their "writing high on the blackboard or pulling down maps." . Huge, headdresses that "take valuable time to assemble, make turning the head a chore, cause headaches and ear troubles," came in for the sisters' criticism. "Without the discomfort of the headdress, ' one said, am sure I could carry on my teach-ing day much more patiently." The survey showed that the average religious, woman spends one hour every 43 days cleaning her habit. This time is exclu-sive of that spent on the headdress and does not include the "yearly overhaul and the 10 minute periods given nightly to sponging." The use of commercial dry-cleaning facilities was reported in a ~ew isolated cases. It was interesting to the writer that a~nun rips her habit apart once or twice a year for a general renovation and then spends the "Easter vacation and what other time she can find until June, as well as the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays, reassembling it again." A host of interesting and practical suggestions came from the following questions: 1. If you were founding a religious family Of women in 1957,, what characteristics would you stress in the habit you de-signed? a) Would you favor a veil and starched linen to frame the face? b) Would you favor a simple linen cap that showed the hair-line and did not interfere with lateral sight? January, c) d) e) f) 1957 THE RELIGIOUS HABIT What color would y;ou prescribe for your habit?. Would cincture beads be ~l part of your proposed'habit? How far from the floor would you want the skirt to hang? Would you favor a conservative business suit t~or a habit? The hypothetical foundresses were unanimous in endorsing "simplicity" as the primary characteristic. Simplicity¯ was fol-owed, in order, by "comfort'i" "easy "maintenance," "femiiainity" (one nun gracefully ~odified fdmininitywitl'i "Mary-like"), and . "a well-groomed look." '. On this point the nuns subscribed to a common plank in their platform f6r change. This plank~ can be epkomized in "less-yardage," "no celluloid," "no starch aroiafid ahesk," "freedom for the neck and'face." Some endorsed a jumper style~dre.ss with a washable waist and many of them favored.a "detachable waist for easy main-tenance." A respectable contingent even voted for "a dress with an open neck." The consensus r~flected a desire for a habit easy to make and repair. One nun who had been in religion over forty years observed, "All women are not seamstresses any more th£n all men are efficient carpenters." Another remarked that "the time spent on clothes could be more profitably employed." Lightness of material was emphasized by 79% of the nuns polled. Difficulty in travelling in cumbersome, voluminous clothes, the space required in an automobile and busses were cited as embarrassing trials. One sister saluted "the agility and ingenuity required to dress in a Pullman berth." A simple veil of light material and simply draped, was favored by 84%. Sixteen percent would dispense with the veil entirely. The majority, who voted for the veil because of its "grace," LEE TEUFEL Review for Religious "beauty, . modesty," and "femininity," stipulated firmly tha.'. it should not be so long as to be 'annoying in the wind and a "problem when sitting in a chair." Parenthetically it might be pointed out here that the writer expected to find a certain reluctance for mo~iifying the habit on the part of women who had been many years in religion. To differentiate the opinion of old ~nd young, one of the ques-tions asked was, "How long have you been in religion?" The ant~icipated relucta~.ce for modification never eventuated. Decades of service of God did not temper the desire for a change. Some of the most practical suggestions were offered by women who had been in religion well over 30 years. As to linen about the face, 72% favored it but were vigorous in their abhorrence for starch. The rest of the nuns voted for no linen. Reasons of health, comfort, economy of time were given for eliminating line~., or, at least, modifying existing styles. "No fuss" ran as a litany through the responses to this question. Frequent headache was attributed by many to the constriction of the face and head. Opinion was closely divided on the proposal of a simple linen cap. The reasons for condemning it ranged from "not distinc-tive enough for religious women," through "it would look like a night-cap," to "such a. cap would make us look too old." Those who favored the cap reasoned that it would be com-fortable, easy to maintain and "would permit us to drive a car more safely." Many nuns who rejected the cap proposal expressed interest in a "simple bonnet that would permit lateral sight." The neces-sity for driving cars motivated many suggestions to provide a nun with more lateral vision. The nuns were definitely opposed to a cap or a bonnet that would show the hair-line. The ballo_tting was 68 to 4. Tl=-e January, 1957 THE RELIGIOUS HABIT feminine "bests" the religious in more than one rejo~.nder, such as "the cap might be all right, but as to the hair-lithe, how would we hide our age?" Another pleads for "no hair showing, but, with all the ear troubles sisters have, I do think their ears should be exposed to air and sunlight." The color of the proposed habit brought out an interesting spread of recommendations. There were 30 who favored black contrasted with simple white relief. Fifteen preferred a simple white habit. Gray, because it was a. neutral color that would not show spots, was endorsed by 15 sisters whi!e 12 nuns favored a black habit for winter and a white "or cream color" for summer. Let it be remarked here that the opinion of no sister was included who had not been in religion at least 12 years. With regard to the skirt of the habit, the "mean height from the floor decided upon by the 72 nuns who replied was five and one-half inches. There was the usual diversity of opinion on this point amidst an impressive consensus as to the need of some modification. Those who favored a long skirt said "it hides feet more gracefully," "covers big feet." One sister foresaw that with shorter skirts it "would be diffi-cult to keep the community in decent-looking stockings." Another, who recomraended six inches from the .floor, remarked that "it is not practical to use one's skirt for a dust-mop, nor is it respectful." Another holy woman who has been in religion 34 years recommended three or four inches frgm the floor be~ cause ,.'.here are "too many ugly ankles, ugly, patched shoes, and thick, cotton .stockings." A nun who has been in religion for 30 years remarked that the skirt should hang within three inches of the floor because "poverty in shoes and stockings would de-mand it." Only 14 of the 72 nuns replying would favor a conservative business suit for a habit. The~ reasons for its rejection were: "It does not indicate dedication to Christ," "I would feel sorry for 7 LEE TEUFEL Review for Religious the large woman, .Old nuns would look grotesque," and "I'd rather be 100 years out of date than two or three." There would be no place for cincture beads in the mod-ernized habit if 52 of the 72 sisters could prevent them. The beads were characterized as "ornamental," "heavy," "unneces-sary" and some labelled them "costume jewelry." Twenty-nine sisters characterized their habits as out of date; 21 said they were not, while the other 22 made qualified answers that legitimately would place them with the 29. Some interest-ing comments were made, such as "very much so," "well over 100 years," "the peasant dress of 1850," and "in style at our founding when religious women did not have to travel." Sixty-one of the 72 nuns criticized their habits as not hygienic. When asked if their habits were "adapted to modern needs," 62 answered negatively. A common complaint was, "We have no different weights of cloth for different seasons." "We wear the same winter and summer." One nun remarked on the embarrassment of "using a crowded elevator with yards and yards of serge to shepherd and a clumsy headdress." Anothcr plea was made for "less yardage, and more sim-plicity" when the question was asked: "Are all the items of your habit necessary to show dedication to Christ?" There were 58 negative answers. One nun obse.rved, "a' married woman indi-cates her status by a simple ring. Why then," she continued, "do we have to dress as we do to indicate dedication to Christ?" The religious who answered the questionnaire had served God for from 12 to 58 years. This experience, averaging 28.8 years, should reflect judicious prudence and'temperate expression. One final question was proposed to the nuns: "Do you think your habit attracts vocations?" 8 January, 1957 THE RELIGIOUS HABIT ¯ The preponderant reply, 39 in fact, said the habit has no influence on a young girl en~tering religion. There were 17 who thought the habit was an attraction and 16 who said it was a deterrent. One nun, with over 30 years of service of God, said, "The yardage, weight, wool material for both summer and winter were items that "required too "much heroism for a 'girl who was to enter with me and it 'almost pre;cented me frd~m entering." The senior of the group, with 58 years of service behind her, when asked if the habit attracted vocations, answered, "Definitely not. I wear 10 pou~nds of clothes, while ihe modern girl wears 14 ounces." I should like to meet this hUm She is full of years but modern as the Catholic Church. OUR CONTRIBUTORS LEE TEUFEL is currently on leave from Gonzaga University, doing graduate work in journalism at Marquette University. FRANCIS J. MacENTEE is studying for his doctorate in biology at Catholic Uni-versity. R.F. SMITH is a member of the faculty of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. JOSEPH F. GALLEN is professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. NEW TESTAMENT ABSTRACTS Readers of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS will be interested in a new journal devoted to Scripture studies which has recently appeared. New "_l'estatttent ,ql~¢lracts, published by Weston College, Weston 93, Massachusetts, presents concise summaries in English of articles dealing with the New Testament. The magazine covers matter selected from the major theological journals of the world and includes abstracts of important book reviews. Published three times a year, it costs three dollars. 9 . Trunks, Death, and The Squirrel Within Us I:rancis ,J. Macl~nteez S.J. TWO factors coupled to produce the substance of this article, the annual moving period and a retreat meditation on death. With the nasty details of packing still fresh in mind, that most salutary exhortation that death whispers to us, namely, to ¯ start dying to thing.s here and now, had a vigorous impact on me. There is nothing like packing and moving to convince us that we have by some means or other become curators of a no small-sized museum of odds and ends to which a certain amount of dying would be most beneficial, not only to ourselves who, as religious, have vowed complete estrangement from the superfluous, but, also and especially, to our community which must pay the very high shipping rates involved. I remember" hauling a heavy wooden crate filled with tracts, treatises, and other treasures of great importance (?) over to the carpenier shop the day before the retreat started. The Brother Carpenter, busy all the year around in lots of six at a time With the many details incumbent on any carpenter in a large community, was at this particular time of hectic mass movement a hurried and harried man. But with the kindness and patience of his great Model, that holy man with the horny hands was busy re-enforcing, nailing down and tagging a whole array of crates, boxes and trunks, some of which had. never been opened since their arrival. As he took my crate for similar handling, he sighed, "Father, if I had the money we paid out to the express company since I've been.at this job, we could put up a new building." An exaggeration, of course, but still very thought-provoking. We might think we are doing quite well in keepi~ng our needs and possessions down to the chaste minimum that is characteristic of religious profession. But when it becomes necessary to gather, sort, and pack them into a trunk, ii rapidly dawns on us that we 10 January, 1957 THE SQUIRREL WITHIN US have been deceiving ourselves. : The deception is all the more alarm-ing because it frequently stems from a good motive, namely, pro-viding for a future need. There is something of the squirrel in nearly all of us, that impulse to sake and store away for future use. Something catches our eye; and, although we would never l~ave knowr~ of its existence if it had not fallen up.der our gaze (the dangers of the roving eye that St. Paul warns us against), still.we take and hoard it. "I may have some use for that someday!" It may even be something ordinary and practical that comes our way, like extra clothes. We really don't need them, here and now, but the squirrel in us takes over, so we accept them and stack them away, justified, we think, because we are really saving the superior a future expense. We come across a fine article in a journal or a new book of special interest to us appears, and right away we must have our own copy. "It migh~ not be in the library when I want it, and besides this copy will end up in the library anyway." End up, perhaps, but in the meantime it becomes one more item in the museum added to an ever-growing collection of literature earmarked for ftiture perusal, that will have to be cared for, dusted, crated and freighted. Without wishing to enter any argument with the S.P.C.A., a prayer-inspired resolution that would deal death to this particular rodent, the squirrel within us, would leave not only our rooms but also our souls far less cluttered up, for the more we detach ourselves from "things" (and one fine way is to subtract them from us): the easier it becomes to give our £ulI attention to God. Another eye-opener stems from the annoying task of gather-ing and packing. In the process, our things are bound to get scattered around the room, removed from their normal inconspicu-ous resting p!aces where they had gradually lost their full identity and significance; we now see them in a new spot, on tabletops or conspicuous window sills, .where their very newness of location draws our eye, and restores to them their full personality. And our eyes widen in amazement as they see, as though for the first time, the little pirates that have been stealing our time and attention. 11 FRANCIS J. MacENTEE Review [o~" Religious Light literature has its place as an occasional diversion, but it has a constant insidious way of telling us that this is the occasion. Little side interests we turn to for a few minutes' breather, which look harmless enough when out of sight in the closet now, spread out on the floor prior to packing, give us fair warning that they could be competing for first place with what should be our main interests. We are told that Blessed Peter Faber would every year put to common use all the things he had in his possession. Others, inflamed with a similar zeal for holy poverty, would periodically, generally at the time of their annual retreat, lay out every single item they possessed and would pass judgment on their need of them. Whatever they saw that was superfluous or could be done without, they immediately disposed of. Is it possible that the v.ery thought of the labor involved in having to display all their holdings strikds terror into the hearts of some religious? As annoying as packing and moving can be, it certainly gives us just such an oppor-tunity. If we passed a similar honest judgment on our chattels before consigning them to the hold of the trunk, it's a safe bet that our cargo would be a good bit lighter, and so would our hearts. We all know that wd will someday die. That day is fast ap-proaching when we will leave our room for the last time, without the opportunity, perhaps, for even a hasty tidying. Our desk with al'l its contents will become common property. Our bookcase, still holding the many pieces We intended getting ~iround to, will now become part of the house library. Our clothes in the drawers and closet will be~ worn by someone else who approximates our dimen-sions. All this is sure to happen in some form or other. But we could steal the jump on death if, like some unpleasant task that we do in parts to cushion ourselves against its full brunt, we take death, too, piecemeal and begin to die now little by little. Start dying now to the many things that make up our life, to persons, places and things, but especi~llly to things, so important precisely because of their seeming unimp6rtance. Die to them now-so that the re-mainder of our days may be filled more completely with Christ. 12 Survey ot: Roman Documents R. I:. smith, S.J. WITH this article REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS inaugurates a new department which will appear regularly in future issues of the magazine. It will not be superfluous to set down in this initial article the reason for beginning-the depart-ment and the method which will be followed in the writing of the articles. Basically the reason for the department would seem~to be this: All personal perfection as well as every apostolate must "be ecclesiastical, that is, they both must be in accordance with the mind of the Church. Since themind of the Church is known most easily through the teachings of the Roman Pontiff, in whom the plenitude of the Church's teaching power is to be found, it is certainly useful and even necessary that religious conse-crated to spiritual perfection and engaged in either the con-templative or the active apostolate should have some contact with the current pronouncements and documents of the Holy See. It is the hope of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS that this' new d.epartment will in some measure meet this need for sustained contact with the current teaching of the' Vicar of Christ. As to the method to be followed in these articles, the general plan will be to provide a summary of papal documents as these are published in the official Vatican publication, .4cta .4postoli-cae Sedis (hereafter to be referred to by the usual abbreviation i!i!S) .1 The present article will attempt to give a survey of those papal documents which have, appeared between January 1, 1956, and May 31, 1956. The following article--which will appear in the March, 1957, issuewwill then cover the documents ap-pearing between June 1, 1956, and September 30, 1956, while ~In the present survey, all references to .4//8 are to 1956 (Vol. 48) unless otherwise indicated. 13 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious the May, 1957, issue will survey the remaining documents of the year 1956. Succeeding issues of RI~'ClEW FOR RELIGIOUS will then begin a progressive survey of the document~ appear-ing ia the 1957 In the period January 1, 1956, through May 31, 1956, the two most important documents issued by the Holy Father were two encyclical letters, one on the subject of sacred music, the other on devotion to the Sacred Heart of our Lord. On Sacred Music The encyclical On Sacred IViusic (the Latin title is Musicae Sacrae Disciplina) is dated December 25, 1955; but, since its official publication was in the 1956 .i!MS, pp. 5-25, it is properly included in the present survey of papal documents of the first five months of the current year. It is noteworthy that the Holy Father has put his teaching on sacred music in the form of an encyclical rather than in one of the other customary, but less solemn forms of papal_ docu-ments. Tl~e present document, it would seem, is the first encyclical to be devoted exclusively to the matter of sacred music; and the .selection of this particular curial form would seem to be a clear indication of the importance which Plus XII attaches to the subject of sacred music which, as he says in the course of his encyclical, has its own peculiar efficacy to lift the hearts of men to the things of God and which, more than any other form of sacred art, enters intimately into the official worship which the Church offers to the Divine Majesty: The encyclical begins with a history of sacred music from the time of the exodus of the Israelites from Egypt, through the rise in Christian times of Gregorian chant, of polyphony, and of various instrumental accompaniments, to the latest directives of recent popes on the matter of Church music. After outlining the general principles which must direct all sacred art and hence also sacred music, the encyclical then considers two types of 14 January, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS sacred music: liturgical music and "popular" or, as it is more often called in the. document, religious music. Liturgical music, according to the encyclical, is that sacred music used in the Church's liturgy; since its outstanding charac-teristic must be holiness and since Gregorian chant so admirably embodies this quality, it is this ~hant~ that should be most widely used throughout the entire Church, with no prejudice, however, to specific exceptions granted by the Holy See, nor to the liturgical ck, ants of other rites. Plus XII is notably insistent on this widespread use 6f Gregorian chant as a fitting symbol of ¯ the universality of the Church which transcends all national and local distinctions. Because of his desire for this widespread use of chant, the Pope insists that training in Gregorian chant should be a necessary part of the Christian education of youth through-out the world. The universality manifested by the chant must also be expressed linguistically: for the only language to be used in this liturgical music is Latin. One exception, however, is noted with respect to solemn high Mass. In those places where there exists a long-standing or imme~norial custom of singing vernacu-lar hymns at solemn high Mass after the liturgical words have been sung in Latin, this custom may be continue'd, if the ordinary of the place judges that the custom cannot be prudently abol-ished. Nevertheless, in no case may the liturgical words be sung in the vernacular. The Holy Father is careful to point out that what he has said with regard to Gregorian chant is not to be construed as an exclusion of polyphonic music from the Church's liturgy. On the contrary, polyphonic compositions can contribute greatly to the beauty of the sacred rites, provided that what is profane, exaggerated, or overly di~cult be eliminated. These same rules also apply to the use of musical instruments among which the organ holds the principal place, though other instruments may also be used, "especially stringed instruments played with a bow, 15 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious for these have an indescribable power of expressing the joyful and sorrowful sentiments of the soul." The second type of sacred music, termed in the encyclical religious music, consists of hymns generally in the vernacular and set to melodies in consonance with the musical traditions of the nation or place in which they are used. One of the notable characteristics of the present encyclical is the attention it gives to this type of music; the encyclical treats the matter at consider-able length and even gives it, as shall be seen, a definite, though modest, place at certain liturgical ceremonies. These hymns should be simple, brief, religiously grave, and above all in accordance with Catholic doctrine. They may not be used at solemn high Mass, as has already been noted, but they may profitably be used at other Masses, provided they are suitably adapted to the different parts of the Mass. This same religious music may be used in churches for extra-liturgical func-tions, as well as outside of churches in processions, meetings, and so forth. They are as well an important vehicle of religi-ous education of the young. The bishops of the world are urged to foster this type of sacred music, while missionaries are advised by the Holy Father that religious music of this type is an im-portant aid to their apostolate. There follow various directives to the bishops of the world and to superiors of religious communities by which they can effectively foster sacred music, and the document concludes with the hope that through "this noblest of the arts . . . the Church's children may give to the triune God a due praise ex-pressed in fitting melodies and sweet harmonies." On the Sacred Heart The second encyclical(Haurietis aquas), which treats of devotion to the Sacred Heart, is dated May 15, 1956, and appeared in ,/1./1S, pp. 309-353. Occasioned by the one.hun-dredth anniversary of the extension of the feast of the Sacred 16 January, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS Heart to the universal Church, the document derives its title from the prophecy of Isaias, in which the prophet foretells the gifts of God to be present in the' Messianic kingdom; among these gifts, thinks the Holy Father, devotion to the Heart of Christ is one of the greatest. If any single impression is par.a-mount after the reading of this length~; encyclical, that impression is that Pius XII is deeply concerned that devotion to the Sacred Heart be securely and solidly founded on the great dog-matic truths of the Christian religion. After briefly pointing out that the Heart of Christ is given divine honor because that Heart i~ hypostatically united to the Person of the Divine Word and because the Heart of Christ is a natural symbol of His infinite love for the human race, the Vicar of Christ then searches the Scriptures for an Understanding of this devotion. Though Scripture nowhere refers to a special worship directed to the physical Heart of Christ as a symbol o~ His love, there can be no doubt that in both the Old and the New Testaments the love of God for men is the commanding truth mirrored under various images and figures which prepare the way for that definitive sign and symbol of divine love which is the Sacred Heart of Christ. If the love of God for men is shown in the Old Testa-ment by such words as those of Isaias 49, 15: "Can a woman forget her infant so as not to have pity on the son of her womb? And if she should forget, yet will I not forget thee," still it is in the Gospels that we come to the fullest knowledge of God's love ~or men, since the Gospels tell us of our redemption; and that redemption is first and foremost a mystery o~ a love that was rooted at once in justice and in mercy. It was a just love, be-cause Christ redeemed mankind out of love for His heavenly Father to whom He wished to give due and abundant satisfaction for sin; and it was a merciful love, for He entered thework of redemption out of love for the human race, since He saw that mankind of itself could not expiate its own sins. 17 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious It must be remembered, how~ ever, that since Christ was truly God and truly man, His love was at once divine and human; similarly too it must be recalled that His human love was of two kinds, intellectual and sensible. The Heart of Christ, then, can rightly be considered as the symbol and sign of this tb.reefold love which was the motive force of all Christ's words, actions, teachings, miracles, and gifts. When, therefore, "we adore the most sacred Heart of Jesus Christ, in it and through it we are adoring both the uncreated love of the Divine Word as well as His human love, His other affections, and His virtues." Devotion to the Sacred Heart accordingly "is nothing less than devotion to the divine and human love of the Incarnate Word as well as devotion to the love which the Father and the Holy Spirit have for sinful men." We may be assured then, says the Roman Pontiff, that the devotion by which the love of God and of Christ are honored under the symbol of the wounded Heart of Christ was at no time foreign to the piety of the faithful; nevertheless, the devotion to the Heart of Christ as a symbol of both His divine and human love underwent a gradual development in the history of which many saints, especially St. John Eudes and St. Margaret Mary, made great contributions. Nevertheless, the remarkable growth of this devotion can be fully explained only by the fact that it is in complete accord with the Christian religion which is pri-marily a religion of love. The contemplation, therefore, of the physical Heart of Christ is no hindrance to the purest love of God Himself; for from the physical Heart of Christ we are led to the contempla-tion of his human sensible love, then to his human intellectual love, and finally to His divine love. Devotion to the Sacred Heart then can rightly be considered as a perfect profession of the Christian religion, and those who depreciate the value of this devotion rashly offend God Himself. It should, however, be remembered that devotion to the Sacred Heart is not primarily 18 January, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS concerned with external acts of piety; nor should the principal motive for the practice of this devotion be private promises of temporal or eternal benefits, for such promises have been made only to lead us to the observance of our principal Christian duties of love and expiation. The Holy Father concludes his encyclical by urging the fostering of devotion to the Sacred Heart which he foresees will lead many to return to the religion of Christ, will vivify the faith of many others, and will unite all the faithful more closely with our most loving Redeemer, so that throughout the entire world the kingdom of Christ may grow, that kingdom which is a "kingdom of truth and of life, a kingdom of holiness and of grace, a kingdom of justice, of love, and of peace." Occasional Addresses The documents to be considered next are the official texts of those addresses which the Holy Father customarily gives on certain dates or occasions of each year. The first that naturally comes to notice is the Christmas Eve address, given, of course, on December 24, 1955, but officially published in the 1956 AAS, pp. 26-34. The general theme of this address is security. Genuine security, says the Hol~' Father, must be founded on Christ; modern forgetfulness of Christ has also led man to forget the true nature of man and the social order which is based on that nature and which alone provides a solid founda-tion for human security. The modern world has instead mis-takenly placed its hopes for security on the exclusively material-istic foundation of technical and scientific progress and of ever-accelerated social productivity. Modern Christians, however, mindful that the Incarnation of the Word has emphasized human nature as a basic norm of the moral order, should utilize not merely natural but also supernatural means for the sane ordering of things within the limits set by God Himself. Human security being impossible without world peace, the Holy Father then considers this matter and firmly points out to 19 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious the nations of the world their obligation in conscience to come to a mutual agreement that would effectively secure all three of the following aims: renunciation of experimentation with atomic weapons; abolition of the use of such weapons; and a general control over the making of atomic armaments. Finally, human security demands, the elimination of those quarrels between nations that might lead to war. Here the matter of western and especially European colonialism must be faced; the Pontiff warns that nations should not be deprived of a just progressive political liberty and urges the West to recognize this principle and at the same time to set itself to the task of extend-ing its genuine values to those regions yet tmtouched by those values. If the general theme of the Holy Father's Christmas Eve message was security, his Easter message given on April. 1, 1956, and published in i!-i!S, pp. 184-188, centers around the general topic of serenity. Real serenity of soul, the Pope remarks, can be based only on faith, on the "Do not fear" of the risen Christ, and on the conviction that mankind will share the glory of Christ's victory. It is such a faith that gives to the Church and her children that strong confidence which is the. necessary pre-requisite for peace and which never permits her or them to despair of the attainment of peace. This peace, since it is not a state of repose resembling death, but is rather something dynamic, accompanying activity, does not nevertheless flow from every kind of activity. A witness to this truth is to be found in that activity of the contemporary world which centers around the use of nuclear energy; this activity can bring much good on many levels of human existence, but it .can also cause untold destruction, death, and consequently fear. Pius XII concludes his message with the prayer that the light and strength of Christ may check nation~ in their race for nuclear weapons. Christmas and Easter have long been traditional occasions for special addresses of the Holy Father; it would seem that 20 January, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS henceforth May 1, which is now dedicated to St. Joseph the Worker, will also be the date of an annual address to Christian workers. In the speech which the Holy Father addressed on May 1, 1956, to the Association of Christian Workers of Italy (~Lq8, pp. 287.-292), Chriitian workers are' reminded that they find their unity in Christ the Redeemer of all and in the Church the mother of all. Christian. worker-movements are riot m competition with other groups, nor in fear of them; rather they exist only that Christiano workers may be the apostles of Christ among those workers who do not yet know Him or who reject Him. On States of Perfection Four papal documents of the early part of 1956 are directly concerned with aspects of the various states of perfection. Con-sideration of these documents may well begin with the most general of them, a decree of the Sacred Congregation for Religious dated March 26, 1956, and appea.ring in ~///~, pp. 295-296. The decree is concerned with norms regarding con-gresses and conventions which treat of the renovation and adapta-tion of the states of perfection. According to the decree, con-ventions or congresses, courses of lectures, and special schools, which are instituted for members of states of perfection and in which the matters discussed pertain to the internal life, juridi-cal condition, or the formative training of such states of perfec-tion, are not to be held without previous consultation with the Sac~ed Congregation for Religious.'-' Consequently promoters or presiding officers of such courses or conventions should send to the same Congregation before the meeting a list of the topics to be considered as well as of the speakers who are scheduled. After the convention, the presiding officer should report to the same Congregation the matters treated, the discussions engaged "Father Smith is simply giving an accurate rendition of the content of the Roman documents. This particular passage on the norms of con-gresses, conventions, and so forth, may require further explanation. We hope to give that in a subsequent number of the REVIEW.--Ed. 21 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious in, and in general everything which treats of the adaptation and renovation of the states ot: perfection. Where, however, there already exist federations or councils of major superiors, which possess their own statutes and commissions approved by the Holy See, they can choose and propose to the Congregation the names of men who will be able to speak at such conventions or courses of lectures. Finally, to ordinaries of the place is commended the praiseworthy practice of calling together members of those states of perfection which have a house and exercise the min-istry within their dioceses, to examine and paternally discuss with them those matters which pertain to their ministries, insofar as these are matters of legitimate concern to the dioceses. The second of the four documents concerning states of perfection refers only to clerical states of perfection. The docu-ment is an apostolic constitution of the Holy Father, entitled Seat of Wisdom (Sedes Sapientiae), dated May 31, 1956, and published in A~IS, pp. 354-365. The constitution begins by noting that while in earlier ages of the Church, states ot? per-fection were not generally conjoined to the dignity, of the priest-hood, still in modern times the conjunction of such states of perfection with the priesthood is a common practice in the Church. It is obvious, then, that such clerical states of perfection require special norms by which both the religious and priestly training of their members may be secured. Up to the present time such norms have been furnished by the constitutions and statutes Of each group, together with a number of prescriptions and recommendations of the Holy See; in recent times, however, a need has been felt for general ordina-tions that would apply to all clerical states of perfection; it is the purpose of the present constitution to provide for this need by setting forth a number of pertinent statutes to be observed by all clerical states of perfection. After recalling that every true vocation has a divine element (grace) and an ecclesiastical element (choice by a legitimate au- 22 January, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS thority), the constitution also recalls the truth that every genuine vocation to a clerical state of perfection requires a training that will lead not on!y to religious perfection, but also to priestly and apostolic perfection. This training should lead to the formation of the perfect man in Christ Jesus; it should perfect body and soul, cultivate all the natural virtues, develop a virile and humane personality as a solid natural foundation for the supernatural life; and, above all, it must lead. to the supernatural sanctification ¯ of the soul, every activity of which must be animated by an ardent love for God and for neighbor. Having given this general sketch of what training should be in a clerical state of perfection, the Holy Father then limits his attention to the intellectual and pastoral formation of such states and proceeds to give detailed statutes on the matter. In the case of intellectual training in those fields which are also the object of study for persons in the world, superiors should make every effort that such training for their subjects should be in no way inferior to that given in the world. As for philosophy and theology, the students should be instilled with a reverent fidelity to the teaching authority of the Church; they should be taught to investigate new problems with the utmost diligence and at the same time with the greatest of prudence and caution, while all of philosophy and theology should be in accordance with the doctrine and principles of St. Thomas Aquinas. Both teachers and students should remember that ecclesias-tical studies should be directed not merely to intellectual train-ing, but also to a complete religious, priestly, and apostolic for-mation; hence, intellectual instruction should be joined with prayer and contemplation. The entire training should be adapted to the refutation of modern errors and to the meeting of modern needs. To holiness and fitting knowledge must be added a care-ful pastoral preparation, which should be begun at the incep-tion of the course of studies, gradually elaborated throughout R. F. SMITH Review for Reiigious the whole time of training, and fin~illy perfected ina special "ap-prenticeship" to be made after tl~e completion of the study of theology. All this pastoral preparation should be directed toward the formation of a perfect apostle according to the aim of each religious institute. The training should include instruction in psychology, cat¢chetics, social problems, and other such topics. All this should be supplemented by practical pastoral work which should culminate in the "apprenticeship" which should be under the direction of experienced and qualified men. These general statutes are to be observed by all to whom they are applicable; moreover, the" Holy Father grants to the Sacred Congregation for Religious the power to issue further ordinations and instructions by which the present general statutes can be reduced most effectively to practice. The Holy Father's directives regarding the "apprenticeship" to be made in every clerical state of perfection after the study of theology bring us to a consideration of the third of the four documents that have been noted as dealin~ directly with states of perfection. The Society of Jesus has always possessed a third year of probation made after theology and similar at least to some extent to the "apprenticeship'.' mentioned by Pius XII. On March 25, 1956, the Holy Father delivered an allocution to the instructors of this third year of probation, who were all gathered together in Rome at the time. In the course of his al-locution the Pope insisted on the value and need of such a third probation even and especially today; moreover, he emphasized that this year of probation should be conducted in strict accord-ance with the path laid out by the founder of the Society of Jesus; the young priests who make this third year of probation should strive to understand the spirit of their Institute; and the Holy Father concludes by urging the tertian instructors to do everything in their power to make the year of third probation a success. In i~self, it may be noted, this allocutio~ is of special 24 January, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS interest only to the Society of Jesus, but in the light of the Holy Father's later directive on the "apprenticeship" to be made in every clerical state of perfection, the allocution takes on a wider interest and importance. The last of the four .documents which deal directly with states of perfection pertains 0nly to those intended for women. This document is in the special form called a ~/~otu Proprio, a form which is customarily used when it is desired to emphasize the fact of the personal intervention of the Holy Father in con-nection with whatever is discussed in the document. The present document, the title of which is NiMI Ec¢lesiae, is dated Feb-ruary 11, 1956, and is in -/!-/!S, pp. 189-192. The document deals with the Institute Re~ina Mun~!i (Queen of the World); before examining its contents it may be well to recall briefly the nature and history of the Institute. It was founded in Rome for the higher education "especially in the sacred sciences of women who are members of states of perfection. The founda-tion of the Institute was decided upon in 1952; it began to func-tion for the first time in 1954; and in 1955 it was offcially erected by the Sacred Congregation for Religious. The present l~/Iot~ Proprio, now gives the Institute its definitive juridical form. According to the document the Institute Regina Mundi is now accorded the honor of being a pontifical institute which henceforth will be under the supervision of the Sacred Congrega-tion for Seminaries and Universities. The Holy Father grants to the Institute the right and .power to confer degrees on those students who have successfully fulfilled all the requirements of the Institute. Possessors of such degrees will be canonically approved for teaching in any secular or religious schools for women, accordir.g to the norms for each particular type of degree. To teach, however, in lay schools for men, the require-ments prescribed by law must be observed. The fina! power granted the Institute by the Holy Father is that of aggregating to itself those schools, institutes, or departments thereof which appear to the Institute to have affinities with itself. 25 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious There is no need to stress the importance of the Institute Regina Mundi for the life of religious women in the Church; its foundation and 'its present elevation to the dignity of a pon-tifical institute mark one of the most important steps in the Holy Father's program of renovation and accommodation of the Church's states of perfection. ¯ Mainly for Teachers A number of papal documents published in the first half of 1956 will be of interest to those religious who are engaged in the apostolic ministry of teaching. In a speech to a group of Catholic elementary school teachers of Italy, the Holy Father outlined his answer to the three questions: What should a teacher be? What should a teacher know? What should a teacher resolve to accomplish? A teacher, said the Pontiff, should be a close imitator of the unique Teacher, Christ. He should not only have a firm grasp of the matter he teaches, but should also have a sympathetic understanding of the children he instructs. The teacher should strive to give not only a knowledge of as-signed scholastic matter but should also give his charges a vital grasp of their Catholic religion and should attempt to cooperate with God's desire that saints should be found today even among children. Finally, the teacher should not be content merely with group instruction but should try to give a reasonable amount of personal and individual attention to each child." In the course of the busy life of communicating knowledge, it is easy for a religious to forget or neglect the prime importance of fostering in their students a deeply spiritual and interior life. The nccessity for such a spiritual life in young people today, surrounded as they are by a culture absorbed in the development of techniques for the control o~ the external world, is admirably stressed by Pius XII in an allocution given to a group of young French women on April 3, 1956 (i/-/!S, pp. 272-277). Teachers on the college level will find an inspiring state-ment oi: the meaning of Christian humanism and of the relation- 26 January, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS ship between the Church and human culture in an alloctition which Plus XII addressed to a group of archaeologists, historians, and historians of art on March 9, 1956. In the course of the ¯ speech, the text of which is given in ~!~!S, pp. 210-216, the Holy Father states that the Church does not identify herself with any one culture, for religion of itself is independent of culture, as can be seen, for ins.tance, by the historical fact that Greece at the height of its brilliant culture never reached the lofty idea of God and of morality which the Hebrews with a much lower culture expressed in their sacred writings. Moreover, the Church has received no special divine com-mand with regard to the cultural order; her aim is the purely religious one of leading souls to God. On the other hand, the Church is not hostile to human culture, for the striving for such culture puts into execution a commandment given to all of man-kind by God Himself: "Fill the earth and subdue it" (Genesis 1, 28). Moreover, every sound cultural advance strikes a pro-portionate equality between material progress on the one hand and spiritual and moral progress on the other. Fu~hermore, cultural decadence has generally beeri preceded by religious de-cadence, so that while religion is independent of the kind and degree of culture, still every enduring culture possesses an inti-mate relationship with religion. This is shown in the history of the Church, for merely through her presence and religious activity she" has influenced the culture of humanity. Her liturgy, her educational work, her charitable and social achievements, her works of sacred art, her volumes of theological knowledge are all cultural values of the first importance. Besides, the Church has influenced the cul-tural life of mankind in a deeper, if less immediately apparent way, by her orientation of life towards a personal and paternal God, by her respect for the personal dignity of the individual, by her esteem for manual labor, by her insistence on monogamic and indissoluble marriage. It can be said indeed that the soul of western culture is constituted by those Christian principles 27 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious which the Church has transmitted and kept alive; and the culture of the West will retain its vitality only so long as it does not lose its soul. Moreover, concludes the Holy Father, the Church stands ever ready to infuse these same animating principles into" any and all human cultures. Religious who are teachers are frequently called upon to give critical reviews of books or to .advise others on norms to be followed in such critical reviewing. They will find in an allocu-tion given by the Holy Father to a group of Italian priests engaged in the critical reviewing of books a wise. catalogue of the qualities that should be possessed by a competent critic of books and literature (cf. ,/!,z!S, pp. 127-135). The next document to be considered is directly addressed to all Catholic colleges and universities, as well as to seminaries and religious houses o~ study. The document is a decree of the Holy Office, dated February 2, 1956, and published in .zlz'lS, pp. 144-145. The decree is concerned with that system of thought which is termed situation ethics. This type of ethics, says the decred, is characterized by the opinion that the ultimate and decisive norm for human action is not objective reality, but rather the internal judgment and intuition which each individual ~orms in the presence of each concrete situation in which he finds himself. This judgment and intuition do not consist in the application of a general objective law to a particular case, but are immediate acts of the intellect which, at least in _.many cases, are neither measured nor measurable by any objective norm. The Holy Office points out that many o~ the teachings of this situation ethics are .contrary to reason, are vestiges of rela-tivism and modernism, and depart from traditional Catholic teaching. Hence the Holy Office. by this decree forbids that situation ethics--by whatever name it may be callednshould be taught or approved in any university, college, seminary, or re-ligious house of study. Similarly it is forbidden to propagate the same doctrine in books, dissertations, conferences, or in. any other way. 28 January, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS Many Catholic colleges and schools in this country annually conduct .Scripture meetings or conventions of one kind or another; such institutions then will be affected by an instruction issued by the Biblical Commission on December 15, 1955, and officially published in ,:/.~!S, pp. 61-64. The purpose of the instruc-tion is to lay down norms that henceforth should govern all biblical associations and meetings. The instruction first notes that all biblical associations, their acti:,ities, and their projects are to be subject to the competent ordinary. In the case of diocesan associations or conventions, the competent ordinary is the ordinary .of that diocese. If, however, the association or convention is inter-diocesan then the competent ordinary is the ordinary in whose diocese the presiding officer of the association has his headquarters or the ordinary of ~the diocese where the meeting or convention is to be held. New biblical associations or groups are not to be organized except with the approbation of the competent ordinary, whose duty it is. to examine and approve their statutes. Moreover, the presiding officer of every biblical association or group must annually give to the competent ordinary a report covering the status, membership, and activities of his organization. Conven-tions, such as Bible Weeks orBible Days, in which the audience is composed of persons who are not professional students of Scripture, may not be held without the consent and approbation of the competent ordinary. The same ordinary should be previ-ously informed of the matters to be discussed in such meetings and the speakers who will treat of them. After such meetings the presiding officer should submit to the same ordinary a brief report, giving the topics, discussions, and conclusions of the meeting. He should also send the same report to the secretary of the Biblical Commission, together with a copy of the conven-tion program and a list of the speakers. The above norms concerning conventions do not apply to those meetings or conventions which are intended for profes-sors of Sacred Scripture and for others qualified for the sciem 29 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious tific examination and discussion of biblical matters. Meetings of such persons, however, should be conducted in accordance with Catholic doctrine and the directives of the Holy See. From these meetings of Scripture specialists, non-specialists should be ex-cluded. Those in charge of conventions or meetings for non-spe-cialists should see to it that the matters treated in such meetings contribute to genuine progress in faith and in the spiritual life and that they stimulate a sincere love for Scripture. Speakers at such meetings should be well-versed in Scripture and under-stand besides the intellectual and spiritual background of their audiences. They should present for consideration matters that are clearly and well established rather than present difficulties or treat of matters that remain doubtful. When, however, it seems advisable to treat of difficulties and objections, these should be proposed objectively and honestly and given a sound answer based on scientific considerations. For Nurses and Doctors Two documents of the Holy Father during the period treated in this article will be of special interest to those religious who are engaged in hospital work and the care of the sick. The first of these documents is the text of the allocution given by the Holy Father to an international convention in Rome of per-sons engaged in the care of lepers. For the most part the allo-cution is devoted to a statement of the present status of medical science in regard to the cure of leprosy; but towards the end of the allocution the Holy Father makes a statement that surely applies not only to the treatment of lepers but also to all care for the sick. The statement is to the effect that while in the treatment, rehabilitation, and social reorientation of lepers science and technique are important, the chief requisite is that of love for the leper. Hospital religious will also be interested in the remarks of Pius XII made on January 8, 1956, to an interriational group of doctors on the subject of natural painless childbirth 3O .Janizary, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS pp. 82-93). This method employs no artificial means such as drugs, but utilizes only the natural psychological and physical forces of the mother. Considered in itself, says the Pontiff, this method contains nothing objectionable from the viewpoint of morality. It should, moreover, be remembered that though some of the scientists who elaborated this method were men whose ideology was largely materialistic, still the method itself is independent. of such ideology and contains nothing that is repugnant to the convinced Christian. Nor is it to be feared that this method of painless childbirth is contrary to the teaching ot~ Scripture con-tained in Genesis 3, 16: "In sorrow shalt thou bring forth chil-dren"; for the meaning of this passage, notes the Holy Father, is that motherhood will bring to the mother much that she will have to bear patiently. On Worship Not a few documents of the early part of 1956 .treat of matters that pertain in some way to the Church's life of worship, and it is these that must now be considered. The most important of these documents was a declaration of the Sacred Congregation of Rites concerning certain aspects of the new Holy Week serv-ices. The declaration is dated March 15, 1956, (AAS, pp. 153-154). The declaration begins by recalling that in the documents previously published regarding the revised services of Holy Week a distinction was made between the solemn celebration of these services (that is, with sacred ministei's) and the simple ceIebration of the same (that is, without such ministers). Since certain doubts have arisen with regard to these matters, the Sacred Congregation has decided to issue the following clarifica-tions. First of all, the liturgical services of Palm Sunday, Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and the Easter Vigil can be celebrated in the solemn way in all churches and in all public and semi-public oratories where there is a sufficient number of sacred min-isters. However, in churches and in public and semi-public 31 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious oratories where there is not a sufficient number of sacred min- ¯ isters, these same services can be celebrated in the simple way. For the simple celebration of these services, however, a sufficient number of servers (clerical or non-clerical) must be available. At least three such servers must be had for the services of Palm Sunday and for those of Holy Thursday, while four are re, quired for the liturgical services of Good Friday and of the Easter Vigil. It is furthermore required that all these servers be care-fully instructed in the duties they are to perform at these services. According to this declaration, therefore, a double condition is required for the simple celebration of the liturgical services of Holy Week: a sufficient number of servers and a careful train-ing of them. Local ordinaries are to see to it that this double condition for the simple celebration of the services of Holy Week be exactly fulfilled. This same declaration of the Congregation of Rites con-tinues by directing that the liturgical services of Good Friday must always be held in those churches and oratories where on Holy Thursday there takes place the transference and reposition of the Blessed Sacrament after either the simple or the solemn celebration of the Mass for Holy Thursday. Moreover, if for any reason even the simple celebration of "the Mass for Holy Thursday is impossible, the local ordinary can for pastoral reasons permit the celebration of two low Masses in churches and public oratories and one low Mass in semi-public oratories. The time of the celebration of these low Masses must be in accordance with the times specified for Holy Thursday in the original revision of the Holy Week services. With regard to the Easter Vigil the Sacred Congregation declares that the liturgical services of this Vigil can be cele-brated in those churches and oratories where the services of Holy Thursday and Good Friday were not performed; similarly too, the same Vigil services' can be omitted in those churches and oratories where the functions of Holy Thursday and Good Friday were held. 32 January, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS The final declaration of the Congregation of Rites is con-cerned with the question of bination during Holy Week. The Congregation directs that in the case of priests who have. the care of two or more parishes the local ordinary can permit bination on Holy Thursday and for the Mass of the Easter Vigil and can likewise allow a repetition~ of the liturgical function bf Good Friday. Such bination and repetition, however, may not be permitted in the same parish; and, where such bination and repe-tition are allowed, the norms for the time of the celebration of the functions of Holy Thursday and of the Easter Vigil must be adhered to, as they are set forth in the original decree on the revision of Holy .Week. Another decree of the Sacred Congregation of Rites, this one dated April 24, 1956 (AAS, p. 237), approves the texts for the new Office, Mass, and Martyrology insert for the feast of St. Joseph the Worker. Thdse texts are to be found in AAS, pp. 226-236. The same decree definitively assigns the feast of St. Joseph the Worker to May 1 with the liturgical rank of a double of the first class. The feast of the Apostles Philip and James is permanently transferred to May 11 with appro-priate changes in the Martyrology. The feast of the Solemnity of St. Joseph is henceforth abolished and th~ title "Patron of the Universal Church," formerly attached to the feast of the Solemnity, is in the future to be attached to the principal feast of the saint which is celebrated on March 19. Three documents of the Congregation of Rites may next be noted; they concern various beatification and canonization processes. In AAS, pp. 223-226, is given a decree of the Con-gregation affirming the heroic virtues of Venerable Pope Innocent XI (who has since been beatified). In a second decree (AAS, pp. 221-222), the Congregation approved the reassumption of the cause for the canonization of Blessed Mary Teresa de Soubi-ran, while a third degree (AAS, pp. 149-152) approved the introduction of the cause for beatification of the Servant ef God, 33 R. F. SMITH Review fo~" Religious Basil Anthony Moreau, founder of the Congregation of the Holy Cross. The last of the documents which concern in some way the Church's life of worship is an apostolic letter of the Holy Father, dated March 11, 1955, but published in the 1956 ,~/,/!S, pp. 259-260. In this apostolic letter the Holy Father declares that henceforth St. Zita of Lucca is the heavenly patron of all girls and women employed in domestic work. Varia The last part of this survey will be concerned with a brief summary of ~. few papal documents which fall outside the group-ings under which the other documents were considered. On Feb-ruary 14, 1956, the Holy Father addressed the parish priests and the Lenten preachers of Rome. His speech (,4AS, pp. 135-141) consisted of a lengthy exhortation that his listeners grow in a deep charity for each other-and for the souls entrusted to their care. Speaking to an Italian farm group on April I 1, 1956, the Pontiff (AAS, pp. 277-282) extolled the rural way of life and encouraged farmers to live up to the duties of their state and occupation. ,qAS for 1956 also includes the text of the speech which the Pope delivered on November 10, 1955, to the Eighth Session of the Conference of the Food and .Agricultural Organi- .zadon. The speech was concerned with the worldwide need for soil conservation and improvement; and the Holy Father noted with insistence that the love which prompts the study of such matters can be rooted only in the love that God Himself has for mankind. Finally it may be noted that the Holy Office by two decrees (ACACS pp. 95-96) has condemned and placed on the Index of Forbidden Books three" works by A. Hesnard: Morale sans pech~," L'univers morbide de la faute," Manuel de sexologie norrnale et pathologique," and a book by Aldo Capitani entitled Religione aperta. B4 January, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS This concludes the present summary of papal documents published between January 1, 1956, and May 31, 1956. The article has made no attempt to summarize those documents which appeared during the same period and which deal with the divi-sion or establishment of dioceses, with curial appointments, with anniversary congratulations, and so forth, since these documents are in general of limited interest and importance. The next survey will cover the documents published in the 1956 between June 1, 1956, and September 30, 1956. SOME BOOKS RECEIVED ['Only books sent directly" to the Book Review Editor, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana, are included in our Reviews and Announcements. The following books were sent to St. Marys.] The Papal Encyclicals in Their Historical Context. Edited by Anne Fremantle. New American Library of Woi'ld Literature, Inc., 501 Madi-son Ave., N. Y. 22, N.Y. $.50 (paper cover). Le Droit Des Religieux d'u Concile de Trente aux Instituts S~culiers. By Dom Robert Lemoine, O.S.B. Desclge De Brouwer & Cie, 22, Quai au Bois, Bruges, Belgique. 400 Ft. ,4 Catholic Child's Picture Dictionary. By Ruth Harmon. Catecheti-cal Guild Educational Society, St. Paul 2, Minnesota. $1.50. Ursulines in Training. By Sister Mary Gertrude, O.S.U. Toledo, Ohio. The Church and Its People. From Catholic Digest Reader. Cate-chetical Guild, 260 Summit Ave., St. Paul 2, Minnesota. $.50. Enthronement of the Sacred Heart. By Reverend Francis Larkin, SS.CC. Catechetical Guild, 260 Summit Ave., St. Paul 2, Minnesota. $.50. Spiritual Guidance and the Uarieties o[ Character. By Reverend Henry J, Simoneaux, O.M.I. Pageant Press, Inc., 130 W. 42nd St., N. Y. 36, N.Y. $5.00. Blueprint for Christian Living. By Our Lady of Victory Missionary Sisters. Our Lady of Victory Press, Victory Noll, Huntington, Indiana. $.25. Catholic Pioneers in West .4[rica. By M. J. Bane, S.M.A. Clonmore & Reynolds Ltd., Kildare Street, Dublin. Le Patronage De Saint Joseph. Adtes du Congr~s d'~tudes tenu ~ l'Oratoire Saint-Joseph, Montreal, ler-9 ao~t 1955. Fides Editions, 25 St. James St. East, Montreal. $10.00. Russia l/l/ill Be Converted. By John M. Haffert. Ave Maria Insti-tute, Washington, New Jersey. $1.00 (paper cover). Di~est of Christ's Parables /or Preacher, Teacher, and Student. ° By Bernard J. Lefrois, S.SCR.D. Divine Word Publications, Techny, Illinois. 35 Papal Cloist:er ot: Nuns Joseph I:::. Gallen, L General Matters 1. General /agvs that govern papal cloister of nuns. The explanation that follows is based on all the general laws now in force on the papal cloister of nuns. These are the Code of Canon Law (cc. 514, § 2; 540, § 3; 597; 599-603; 605-606, § l; 1230, § 5; and 2342, 1°, 3°); the apostolic constitution, Sponsa Ghristi; the general statutes appended to this consti-tution; the instruction, Inter praeclara, of the Sacred Congre-gation of Religious, November 23, 19501; and the instruction of the same congregation, Inter cetera, March 25, 1956.-0 The instruction of the Sacred Congregation of Religious, Nuper edito, February 6, 1924, has been abrogated.~ 2. Purpose of papal cloister. The purpose of papal cloister, whether major or minor, is to facilitate and protect the observ-ance of the solemn vow of chastity and to foster the contempla-tive life. 3. On whom obliyatory? Monasteries of nuns are houses of religious women in which solemn ; ows are either actually taken or should be taken according to their institute, even though because, of a temporary exception only simple vows are still taken. Among the nuns found in the United States are: Bene-dictines of the Primitive Observance, Carmelites of the Ancient Observance, Discalced Carmelites, Cistercians of the Strict Ob-servance, Poor Clares, Dominicans of the Second Order, Do-minicans of the Perpetual Rosary, Franciscans of the Most Blessed Sacrament, Nuns of the Perpetual Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, Nuns of the Order of Our Lady of Charity of Ref- 1The last three of the documents cited are found in English in Bouscaren, Canon Law Di#est, III, 221-48. 2,4cta ,4postolicae Sedis, 48-1956-512-26. 3Bouscaren, op. cit., I, 314-20. 36 PAPAL CLOISTER OF NUNS uge, Sacramentines, Ursulines, and Visitandines. Papal cloister, major or minor, must exist in all canonically erected monasteries of nuns, formal and non-formal, no matter how small the number of nuns (c. 597, § 1). The obligation of papal cloister in a new monastery or its restoration in an existing monastery begins from the moment determined in writing by the local ordinary. The following matters are to be referred to the Holy See: tem-porary or habitual special difficulties that impede the restoration of papal cloister; doubts as to whether the cloister should be major or minor; and a transition from major to minor cloister. The name and canonical state of nuns may not be retained without at least minor papal cloister; and any contrary statutes, indults, privileges, or dispensations are revoked. Common or episcopal cloister is no longer recognized for monasteries of nuns. If it is certain that not even minor cloister can be observed, the monastery is to be converted into a house of either a religious.congregation or a society of women living in common without public vows. Concessions granted by the Holy See that do not exclude papal cloister, as also special statutes that in greater detail determine and adapt minor cloister for orders of nuns engaged in works of the apostolate, remain in force. 4. Monasteries of major cloister. Major cloister is to exist in all monasteries that profess the purely contemplative life: a. as a matter of law if solemn vows are actually taken in the monastery; b. if possible, it should exist also when only simple vows are by indult and exception still taken in the monastery. However, minor cloister, especially as regards the punishment of a violation for going out (n. 25),.t may be granted to the latter type of monastery and also pr:ldently adapted according to the individual case. With the approbation of the Holy See, a monastery of purely contemplative life may retain major cloister, even though the Apostolic See, for serious reasons and as long as these 4Numbers in the text which are preceded by n. are cross references to the numbered sections of this article. 37 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review ]or Religious reasons persist, may have imposed or permitted some works of the apostolate. However, in this case only a few nuns and only a small part of the monastery, clearly distinct and separate from the part in which the community resides and follows common life (n. 17), may be destined for such works. 5. Monasteries of minor cloister. Minor cloister must be used in monasteries of solemn or simple vows when many nuns and a notable part of the monastery are habitually destined for works of the apostolate. It appertains to the local ordinary along with the regular superior, if the monastery is in fact subject to the latter, to introduce minor cloister, unless the Holy Gee itself made provision for the particular monastery after the pro-mulgation of the apostolic constitution, Sponsa Christi. 6. Persons obliyed by papal cloister. All professed nuns of solemn or simple vows, even if only temporary, novices, and postulants have a grave obligation to observe papal cloister (c. 540, ~ 3; n. 15, c. 1°). Candidates enter the cloister to begin the postulancy with the permission of the local ordinary. If they are leaving or being dismissed, novices and postulants may depart from the monastery without any permission. The same free-dom of departure is true of professed who are leaving or have been excluded from further profession at the expiration of tem-porary vows and of all professed who are leaving or have been dismissed. II. Major Cloiste~ 7. Places within cloister (c. 597, ~ 2). These are the entire monastery and attached buildings in which the nuns reside, i. e., the cells or rooms of the nuns, dormitories, infirmary; the choir reserved for the nuns; the chapter room and similar places, such as the community, recreation, and study rooms, and the library; refectory, kitchen; places for recreation and walking, community workrooms; and the parts of the parlors destined for the nuns. Grounds and gardens contiguous to the monastery, if their 38 January, 1957 PAPAL CLOISTER OF NUNS entrance is only from within the monastery, or, when there is another entrance, that halve been reserved for the use of the religious, are within the cloister. The cloister extends also to other places frequented by the nuns. The cloister should be indicated at least by a locked door and preferably by a sign such as Cloister, Enclosure, Reserved for Religious, Private, Entrance Forbidden (c. 597, § 3; n. 17). The determination and change of the boundaries of cloister appertain to the local ordinary, even if the monastery is subject to regulars. The boundaries may. be changed permanently for a serious reason or temporarily for a proportionate or reasonable cause (c. 597, § 3; nn. 9, 17, 19). 8. Places outside cloister (c. 597, § 2). These are the parts of the parlors destined for externs; the church and chapel, with the exception of the choir reserved for the nuns; the sacristy and adjoining places accessible to the clergy and ministers; the part of the confessional used by the confessor; ~ the dwellings in which the extern sisters reside; and the sections destined for chaplains and guests. One monastery obtained an indult that permitted the nuns to enter the chapel reserved for the public and also the sacristy, provided the doors were closed, for the adoration of the Blessed Sacrament during the day on Holy Thursday and also during the night until the morning of Good Friday (n. 9). 9. Places temporarily within cloister. If it is really neces-sary at times for the nuns to attend to the church, sacristy, and adjoining places destined for worship, the local ordinaries may permit that cloister be extended to these, places during the time of such work. They may similarly permit the temporary exten-sion of cloister to the sections of the parlors destined for externs and to other places adjoining the monastery if, because of the lack of extern sisters or other reasons, it is. considered really necessary that the nuns at times perform some work in these places. All the 39 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious precautions prescribed below for the 'protection of cloister are to be observed in these places during such times (n. 15, a.). 10. Entrance and visibilily to be excluded (c. 602). The parts within cloister are not only to be safeguarded against any entrance but, as far as possible, the enclosure should be such that the nuns within cannot see nor be seen by persons outside. Therefore, the grounds and gardens are to be surrounded by a high wall or in some other effective manner, e. g., by a board fence, an iron or metal meshed fence, or a thick and solid hedge, according to the judgment of the local ordinary and the regular superior, consideration being given especially to the location, frequency of approach of seculars, and similar circumstances. Windows facing a street, neighboring houses, or permitting any communication whatever with externs are to be of opaque glass or furnished with stationary shutters or lattice work, so that the view in and out will be excluded. The nuns may have access to a terrace or place for walking on the roof of the monastery only if it is surrounded by a screen or some other effective means. Unless this is forbidden by their own stricter law, papal cloister does not prevent nuns from being able to see the altar; but they themselves should not be able to be seen by the faithful. 11. Parlors and comportment in the parlor. As far as possible, the parlors should be located near the door of the mon-astery (c. 597, ~ 2). The section of the parlor destined for the nuns is to be separated from the part intended for externs by two grilles, set apart from each other by some space and securely fixed, or by some other effective means to avoid the possibility of touch by persons on each side. The latter means is to be determined by the local ordinary and the regular superior, who have an obligation of conscience in this matter. The constitutions govern the nuns with regard to the pat~lors, i. e., the time and frequency of entrance, the quality of persons to be admitted, the comportment of the nuns, e. g., whether the grille or their faces should be veiled, the presence of a companion, etc. If the 40 January, 1957 PAPAL CLOISTER OF NUNS constitutions appear to require any adaptation in this respect, recourse is to be made to the Holy See. The constitutions com-monly prescribe that conversations with externs are to be "avoided as much as possible, are not to be protracted, that the nuns are not to occupy themselves with worldly or useless "matters, and are to be religiously edifying in their deportment. Superiors are obliged to take care that the prescriptions of the constitutions regarding the reception of visitors are faithfully observed (c. 606, ~ I). Local o~dinaries, regular superiors, and the superi-oresses are also obliged to exercise careful vigilance that the visits of externs neither relax religious discipline nor weaken the religious spirit by useless conversation (c. 605). 12. Tnrn. At the door of the monastery, in parlors, the sac-risty, and wherever it is needed, a turn or double box, according to the accepted usage, shrill be inserted in the wall, through which necessary articles can be passed. Small openings are permitted in the turn to see what is being put into it. 13. Going oul o/ cloisler (c. 601, § 1). Without the per-mission of the Holy See, all obliged by major cloister are for-bidden to go outside its limits as determined by ecclesiastical authority even for a short time and fbr any reason whatever except in the cases provided for in law. a. Aro! permilled. It is not permitted to leave the enclosure on the occasion of a clothing, profession, C6mmunion, or similar matter. Without the permission of'the Holy See, nuns may not pass, even for a short time, from one monastery to another of the same or a different order, except in the cases contained in the apprc.ved statutes of a federation (n. 27 a-c.). b, Crises o/going ou/ provided for in law (c. 601). These cases, if time permits, are to be previously authenticated by the local ordinary in writing; if not, he is to be informed afterwards of .the departure from cloister. 1° Imminent danger of death or of other very serious evil, such as fire, flood, earthquake, a weakening of the building or walls in danger of falling, air 41 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious attacks, military invasion, and the urgent requisition of the mon-astery by military or civil authority. 2° A grave and urgent surgical" operation or other grave and urgent medical care re-quired outside the cloister to save health, and a disease of anyone that is actually dangerous to .the whole community. 3° If the same grave and urgent necessity arises in an extern sister or anyone performing her duties and she would otherwise be with-out proper assistance, the superioress personally or through another nun may go to her and may also take a companion. The local ordinaries of the United States possess the lowing faculty: "To permit nuns to leave the cloister to undergo a surgical operation, even though there is no danger of death or of very great harm, for such time as may be strictly necessary, and with proper precautions.''5 Necessary and urgent dental work that cannot be performed within the monastery is included in this faculty. The apostolic delegate has the faculty: "To, allow nuns in case of sickness or for other just and grave reasons to live outside the religious house for a time to be fixed at their prudent discretion, on condition, however, that they shall always have the association and assistance of their relatives by blood or marriage or of some other respectable woman, that they shall live at home and elsewhere a religious life free from the society of men, as becomes virgins consecrated to God, and without prejudice to the prescription of canon 639.''~ c. For civil rights and duties. It is also permitted, after a declaration by the local ordinary, to go out of the cloister when it is obligatory to exercise civil rights or fulfill civil duties. d. Dispensations and habitual faculties obtainable from the Holy See. Absolute moral necessities and important practical purposes are su~cient reasons for requesting proportionate dis- 5Bouscaren, 0/~. cit., II, 37; cf. Creusen, Revue des Communaut~s Religieuses, 3-1927-134; Bastien, Directoire Canonique, n. 713; Barry, l/iolation o[ the Cloister, 220-21. 6Bouscaren, op. cir., I, 184; Creusen, ibid., 134-35; Bastien, ibid.; Barry, ibid., 222-23; Vermeersch, Periodica, 12-1924-(145)-(146). 42 January, 1957 PAPAL CLOISTER OF NUNS pensations and also moderate and accurately defined habitual faculties from the Holy See. The latter, whether for a deter-mined time or number of cases, can be prudently granted to local ordinaries, regular ordinaries, or religious assistants for brief departures in the case of frequently occurring necessities. Such faculties are always to be exercised in the name of the Holy See; they may not be extended; and the limits and safeguards imposed are always to be accurately observed in the use of a dispensation or faculty. The following are examples of the necessities and practical purposes mentioned above: care of health outside the monastery; to visit a doctor, particularly a specialist, e. g., for the eyes, teeth, the application of x-rays, and for medical observation; to accompany or visit a sick nun outside the mon-astery; to supply for the deficiency of extern sisters or similar persons; to exercise supervision over farms, lands, buildings, or the dwellings occupied by extern sisters; to perform very im-portant acts of administration or business management that otherwise could not be carried out at all or only unsatisfactorily or poorly; monastic labor, whether apostolic or manual; the entrance upon an office in another monastery; and similar matters. Several monasteries of the United States had already obtained indults from the Holy See under one or some of the headings listed above. The permission for a companion to a sick nun has been restricted in very recent indults to an absence of one to three days. e. Conduct outside the monastery. Nuns are to go directly and only to the pl.ace for which the permission was granted. They are strictly obliged to observe the norms and safeguards prescribed for similar cases by c. 607, which forbids religious women to go out of the house alone except in a case of necessity, and those prescribed by the Holy See or enacted for religious women by local ordinaries. 14. Admission of externs into cloister (c. 600). Without the permission of the Holy See, no person whatever, of any age or sex, may be admitted into the cloister of nuns. Unlike the papal 43 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious cloister of male regulars and the common cloister of congrega-tions, the papal cloister of nuns excludes also all persons of the same sex. The following are exempt from this prohibition and may be admitted without the permission of the Holy See. a. Canonical visitors (c. 600, 1°). The local ordinary, the regular superior of monasteries subject to him in fact, and a visitor delegated by either of the preceding or by the Holy See are permitted to enter and remain in the cloister only in the act of the canonical .visitation and only to the extent and time neces-sary for the local inspection, i. e., of buildings, gardens, etc. The visitor is to be accompanied into the cloister by at least one and preferably .two clerics or religious men, even if lay brothers, of mature age. He may take three such companions. Thirty-five can be considered mature age, but the norm may also be based on character rather than on age. The companion is to remain with the visitor the whole time that the latter is within the cloister. The visitation of persons is to be conducted in the parlor, the visitor remaining outside cloister, except in the case of infirm nuns who cannot come to the parlor. All other parts of the visitation, as also the canonical exam-ination of postt:lants, novices, and professed, the presiding over elections, the ceremonies of clothing and profession, and all other duties must be conducted from outside the cloister. b. Priests may enter the cloister only for the following min-istries. 1° Confession of the sick (c. 600, 2°). For this purpose, the following confessors may.enter the cloister: the ordinary of the community, special ordinary~ extraordinary, supplementary, the confessor of seriously sick religious women, and any priest, even one not approved for confessions, with regard to a nun in danger of death. For confession, as also for extreme unction and the assistance of the dying, two nuns are to accompany the confessor to the cell of the sick hurt and, after the confession or ministrations, to conduct him immediately to the cloister exit. 44 January, 1957 PAPAL CLOISTER OF NUNS 2° Communion of the sidk, extreme unction, and the assis-tance of the dying (cc. 514, § 2; 600, 2°). For these, the cloister may be entered by the ordinary confessor of the com-munity or his substitute and, if these cannot be had, by any other priest. The~ substitute is the priest appointed at least implicitly for this duty by the local ordinary or by the ordinary confessor himself.7 Usually the substitute will be the chaplain or a priest who says Mass in the monastery. In the administration of Com-munion, the priest is to be accompanied by at least two nuns from his entrance until he leaves the cloister; if custom~iry, the entire community may accompany the Blessed Sacrament in procession. 3° Burial of the dead. The same priests as in the preceding paragraph and the ministers according to the rubrics may enter the cloister, where customary, for the burial of the dead.8 4° Host dropped within cloister. A priest ma~, enter the cloister to pick up the Host; or a nun may pick up the Host with the paten, a clean piece of paper, or her fingers and either consume it, if she has not already communicated~ or give it to the priest. c. Supreme rulers and their wives (c. 600, 3°). While actually in power, even if not Catholics, kings, emperors, presi-dents of republics, and the governors of our states may enter the cloister with their retinue. The same is true of a woman who holds the supreme power in the state, with her retinue. This exemption does not apply to those who have been elected to, but have not as yet entered on, the office of supreme power, nor to persons who held supreme power in the past but do not hold it now, nor to cabinet members, senators, and congressmen. A wife in the sense of this canon is one who is commonly held as such, even though the marriage is invalid, e. g., because of a previous" marriage. She and her retinue may be admitted into 7Cf. Fanfanl, De Iure Reli.qiosorum, nn. 150; 310, 2°; 416. 8Cf. cc. 1230, § 5; 1231, § 2. 45 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review fo~ Religious the cloister. The exemption is not confined to the country of the ruler and his wife but extends to all countries. The retinue in all these cases may consist of men or women or both. d. Cardinals (c. 600, 3°). Cardinals may enter the cloister in any country and may take with them one or two clerics or laymen of their household. e. Those whose work is necessary (c. 600, 4°). Doctors, surgeons, nurses, others competent in the care of the sick, stretcher bearers, architects, skilled workmen, other workmen, and similar persons, whose work is necessary for the monastery in the judgment of the superioress, may enter the cloister. For these, the superioress should previously obtain at least the habitual approval of the local ordinary. She may do so by presenting to him at the beginning of the year a list of all the persons whose services will most probably be required during the year. Permission may be legitimately presumed for their entrance when it is urgently necessary and su~cient time is lack-ing for recourse to the local ordinary. f. Nuhs traveling. It is not improbable that on a legitimate journey a nun of the same or a different order, if in the latter case there is no other suitable lodging, may be admitted into the cloister. If possible, the previous approbation of the local ordinary is to be obtained.9 g. Character and conduct of and with those admilted. Those frequently admitted into the cloister should be of very good reputation and high moral conduct. All who enter are to be conducted by two nuns through the monastery at their entrance and departure, and any stricter norms of the particular order are also to be observed. Externs are never to remain within the cloister longer than is necessary for the permitted entrance, and only the nuns obliged to do so by their office are to talk with them. The constitutions often prescribe that a bell 9Cf. Schaefer, De Religiosis, n. 1170; De Carlo, Jus Religiosorum, 303-04; Jombart, Trait~ de Droit Canonique, 645-46; Barry', 0i0. tit., 178-81. 46 January, 1957 PAPAL CLOISTER OF NUNS is to signal the presence of any extern in the cloister, that the nuns may veil their faces or withdraw from that part of the cloister. 15. May not be admitted, a. Preachers. Preaching is to be done from outside the grille of the choir or parlor. If this is inconvenient, the Holy See may be petitioned to permit preach-ing within the choir or in the chapter room; or, with the consent of the local ordinary, the preaching may be done in the church. In the last case, the doors are to be closed and the cloister is to be temporarily extended to the church during the time that the nuns are present (n. 9). b. For education and similar purposes. Without the special permission of the Holy See, girls and women may not be ad-mitted into the cloister to be educated, for a brief experiment of their vocation, or for other reasons of piety or of the apos-tolate. c. Extern sisters may not be admitted into the cloister except in the cases permitted by the general statutes on extern sisters and the approved statutes of the particular monastery. For wider permission of entrance or of residence, recourse must be made to the Holy See. The entrances permitted by the general statutes are: 1° Novice extern sisters enter the papal enclosure in the section destined for the lay sister novices only for the canonical, year of noviceship, during which they are obliged by the law of cloister, and for the two months in the second year before first profession. 2° Extern sisters may enter the enclosure occasionally, not ha-bitually, when their work is judged necessarywithin the enclosure but only for as brief a period as possible. At least the habitual approval of the. local ordinary should have been previously secured. 3° If an extern sister is afflicted with an infirmity whose nature and gravity will not permit that she be properly cared for in the 47 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious residence of the extern sisteri, she is to be taken to the infirmary within the enclosure. The permissior~ of the local ordinary is necessary but that of the superioress suffices in an urgent case. Extern sisters who are so old that they can no longer perform their duties and those who are equally incapacitated by other causes may also, with the permission of the local ordinary, be brought within the papal enclosure.1° One monastery of the United States has an indult permit-ting extern sisters, novices, and postulants to enter the cloister for meals, rest, recreation, community labors, sacramental con-fession, spiritual exercises, retreats, and instructions. A similar indult permits the extern sisters to enter for exposition of the Most Blessed Sacrament, spiritual reading, recreation, meals, and to help with the sewing and garden work. 'Ar~ indult of two other monasteries permits entrance for funerals and approxi-mately once a month for recreation to extern sisters, novices, and postulants, including those of other monasteries of the same order who happen to be present. A like indult permits the entrance of extern sisters twelve times a year for recreation on specia~l feasts and also for professional services, e. g., of the dentist or optometrist. An indult has also been obtained that permits the nun who is infirmarian to visit and assist extern sisters who are sick but not sufficiently to be brought to the in-firmary within the enclosure. III. Minor Cloister 16. Specific purpose. Minor cloister gives to a monastery an appropriate facility for the fruitful exercise of selected ministries that have been legitimately entrusted to nuns by their own institute or the concession or prescriptions of the Church. The only ministries permitted are those in keeping with the character and spirit of the paiticular order, that are readily compatible with the contemplative life of the monastery and of the indi-vidual nuns, and whose ordered and regulated exercise rather lOStatua a 8ororibus Externis Serq;anda, nn. 31, 36, 3, 107. 48 January, 1957 PAPAL CLOISTER OF NUNS nourishes and strengthens such a life than disturbs or impedes it. Such are the teaching of Christian doctrine, religious instruction, the education of girls and boys, retreats and religious exercises for women, preparation for First Communion, works oi: charity for the relief of the sick, the poor, etc. 17. Separation into two parts (q. 599, § 1). A monastery that has minor cloister because of ministries is to be clearly and com-pletely divided into two parts, one reserved for the living quar-ters and monastic exercises of the nuns, the other destined the ministries. Access to the latter part must therefore be pos-sible both to the nuns legitimately engaged in the ministries and to the externs connected with the works. It: the monastery has only one street entrance, another interior and properly safe-guarded door must be had by which externs can enter the section devoted to the ministries. Each part of the cloister is to be clearly indicated, so that all can distinguish the two sec-tions (n. 7). It appertains to the local ordinary to determine the boundaries of the section reserved to the community (n. 7) and to authenticate and approv~ the designation and necessary separation of the two sections. One adaptation of minor cloister (n. 3) states: "The sec-tion destined for the works should be connected with the mon-astery and therefore is not to be located outside the confines of the monastery. By exception and with the approval of the Holy See, it may be permitted that works be undertaken in proximity to the monastery and in special circumstances, as in mission territories, greater exceptions may be made." 18. Section reserved to the nuns. This is to contain the same places as those within the enclosure in major cloister (nn. 7-12). 19. Section devoted to the ministries. The part ot? the mon-astery parlors destined for externs, other places adjoining the monastery, the church, public oratory, and connected places are as a matter of law to be outside the section devoted to the min-istries (n. 9). An exception may be made for halls and rooms 49 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious legitimately reserved for works of the apostolate in the church or connected places. In a case of necessity and with the permis-sion of the local ordinary, even an entire church that is habitually open to the faithful may be considered as part of this section during tl~e time that the nuns must exercise their proper works in it. Prudent safeguards are to L'e maintained. Places may not be alternately reserved for the community and used for works of the apostolate (n. 7). However, for a reasonable cause, the iocal ordinary may permit in individual cases or even for a certain definite period of time that some places habitually used for the works be reserved to the community (n. 7). All rules and prescriptions on the habitual residence of the community then extend to such places (n. 9). This section also should be such that the nuns within cannot see no: be seen by persons outside. If this cannot be attained with the same rigor as in the section reserved to the nuns (n. 10), the local ordinary shall substitute pruden~ and determined provisions. 20. Passage of the nuns from the community section to that of the works. a. The nuns are to use a special door and always go directly. b. Entrance into the section for the works is allowed only for reasons of the works at legitimately determined times and only to those nuns whom the superioress has assigned for individual cases or habitually, according to the constitutions or statutes, to the works. The superioress or a nun delegated by her is to be classed among such nuns, even if the sole purpose of her passage is to exercise proper vigilance. c. There are to be special parlors in the section devoted to the works in which nuns legitimately present in this section may talk with externs, but only on matters concerned with the works. These parlors need not necessar.ily have grilles but they are to be furnished with appropriate safeguards. 21. Going out front a monastery of minor cloister. This is forbidden in the same way as going out from the enclosure 50 January, 1957 PAPAL CLOISTER OF NUNS of major cloister (n. 13). Dispensations from this grave pro-hibition may b~ given only for necessary reasons of the apos-tolate and only to the nuns and members legitimately assigned to the works. The superioress may give nuns permission to go out for the reasons admitted as licit below and in the particular constitutions, but she is obliged in conscience to confine this permission to the time during which the reasons certainly exist. For other reasons not expressly stated in law but that clearly seem to be equal, she is to recur to the local ordinary. The latter, after he has carefully considered the matter, may grant the permission and may also remit its concession in the future to the superioress. The local ordinary and the regular superior are strictly obliged in conscience to exercise careful vigilance over the observance of these norms. The three headings from which usually the necessities of the ministries can be judged capable of giving a licit reason for going out are: a. The effective exercise of the ministry demands the de-parture, e. g., if girls must be accompanied outside the mon-astery for reasons of study, health, or recreation and there are no secular women teachers, auxiliaries, or other persons who can perform this duty satisfactorily. b. Preparalion /or the ministries, i. e., for the acquisition of knowledge, culture, degrees,certificates and therefore for attendance at schools, colleges,universities, conferences, and congresses that appear necessary. If any of these seems so gecu-lar and worldly as to create a danger to religious virtues or of scandal, the local ordinary is always to be previously consulted. The instructions of the Holy See are to b~ observed in all cases. c. Business affairs, legal ntatters and questions appertaining to the ministries teat cannot be safely and properly handled and carried out through other persons with ecclesiastical or civil au-thorities or with public or private offices. 22. Adtnission of externs into minor cloister, a. Into the section reserved for the community. The laws on entrance of 51 JOSEPH F. GALLEN externs into major cloister section of minor cloister. (nn. 14-15) Review for Religious apply equally to this b. Into the section destined for the ministries. The following may be admitted into this section: 1° Women, .girls, or boys for whom the works are destined; and these may also reside in this section day and night according to the nature of the work. 2° The same is true of women necessary for the work, such as women teachers, nurses, maids, working women. 3° In indi-vidual cases persons who are linked by some special bond to those for whom the works are exercised, e. g., parents, relatives, or benefactors either accompanying or desiring to visit the girls or boys; these same persons and others who should be or whom it is becoming to invite, according to the nature of the work and local custom, to certain religious or scholastic festivities or pres-entations. The cases in 3° should be suitably determined in legitimately approved statutes or ordinations. 4° All who from either ecclesiastical or civil law have the right to any type of inspection. 5° Those who may be admitted into the part re-served for the community because of the necessity of their work (n. 14 e.) may also be admitted into the section destined for the works, and the same approval of the local ordinary is necessary. The permission of the local ordinary is necessary and .sufficient for all other entrances of necessity or real utility that are not contained above nor in the statutes on the works of the particular moriastery. IV. Custody of the Cloister 23. a. Immediate custody in tke monastery. The immediate custody of both major and minor cloister appertains to the su-perioress of the monaster)?. She herself is to retain night and day the keys of all the doors of major cloister and of the section for the community in minor cloister. These are to be given when necessary only to nuns whose duties require them. The constitutions frequently enact that such doors are to be locked 52 January, 1957 PAPAL CLOISTER OF NUNS with two distinct keys.1. The superioress.h~rself is also to retain the keys of the passage from one section to another in minor cloister or prudently gibe them to nuns occupied in the works. She is to entrust the keys of other doors in the section for the works only to completely trustworthy persons. Any other enact-ments of the particular monastery on the custody of the cloister are to be observed. b. Local ordinary and reyular superior.(c. 603). Vigilance over the custody of major cloister and the section for the com-munity in minor cloister appertains to the local ordinary, even if the monastery is subject to regulars, and also to the regular superior. The ordinary may punish any offender, including male regulars of any order, by penalties and censures; but privi-leges of particular orders that exclude the infliction of censures remain intact.12 The regular superior has the same power of punishment, but it is restricted to the nuns and his other subjects. c. Section for the works. The local ordinary and, if the monastery is subject to him in fact, the regular superior, as also, according to the norms of law., the authorities of federations, have the right and duty of exercising strict vigilance over the milder cloister of this section. If necessary, they may also enact appropriate safeguards for the custody and protection of thi~ cloister in addition to those contained in' the statutes of the monastery, V. Punishment 24. Excomtnunication reserved simply to the Holy See. The baptized persons of either sex specified below who, with certain knowledge of the pertinent boundary of cloister, of the prohibition, of punishment for the violation, and with certainly serious sin, violate in any of the following ways major cloister or the section reserved for the community in minor cloister incur llcf. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, November, 1956, pp. 284-85. 12Cf. Cappello, De Censuris, n. 21, 3. 53 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious by that very fact an excommunication reserved simply to the Holy See: a. Entering (c. 2342, 1°). All over fourteen complete years of age 13 who without permission fully enter either cloister. Those who enter legitimately but illicitly remain within the cloister do not incur the penalty. b. Introducing (c. 2342, 1°). All who from within or with-out introduce into .either cloister 'any over fourteen complete years of age14 who have no permission for entrance. To introduce is to bring or lead within, invite, induce, show the way or means of entrance, or open the door to the one who wish~s to enter. Clerics guilty of this or of the preceding crime are to be sus-pended and for a length of time to be determined, according to the gravity of the crime, by the .ordinary. c. Admitting (c. 2342, 1°). All within the cloister, such as the superioress and portress who have the office of preventing entrance, can prevent it, and either positively or negatively do not prevent the entrance of any over fourteen complete years of age14 who have no permission for entrance, but not if they do not expel those who have entered illegitimately. 25. Excommunication reserved simply to the Holy See or to the local ordinary. -- Going out (c. 2342, 3°). All nuns of solemn or simple vows, perpetual or temporary, who without per-mission go fully outside major cloister or the confines of the mon-astery in minor cloister, but not those who go out licitly but illegiti-mately remain outside, incur by that very fact an excommunication reserved simply to the Holy See. A nun who leaves momentarily but immediately returns escapes the punishment. Novices and pos-tulants sin gravely by going out without permission but they do not incur the excommunication, since they are not nuns in the strict sense of tl-:e term. Extern sisters do not incur this excommuni- 13 c. 2230. 14Cf. Cappello, 0/~. cir., n. 319, 4; Schaefer, 01~. cir., n. 1174; Coronata, Institutiones luris Canonici, IV, n. 1978; Sipos, Enchiridion luris Canonici, 319, note 22. 54 January, 1957 PAPAL CLOISTER OF NUNS cation because they are not nuns in any canonical sense. By an express concession of the Holy See, the excommunication for this species of the crime in minor cloister may be reserved to the local ordinary instead of simply to the Holy See (n. 4). 26. Punishable offences with regard to sections of the monastery not reserved to the community in minor cloister. a. Nuns who enter these parts without the permission of the superioress, at least h~ibitual or reasonably presumed, are to be punished by the superioress or ehe local ordinary according to the gravity of their action, b. Others who illicitly enter these parts, as well as those who introduce or admit them, are to be severely punished by the local ordinary of the monastery accord-ing to the gravity of their act. VI. Papal Cloister and Federations 27. E~'tactments that may b'e made in the statutes. The statutes of federations may make enactments on major or minor cloister that are judged necessary for the attainment of the pur-pose of the federation. a. On government. The faculty may be enacted of leaving one monastery and entering another to attend a chapter, council meeting, or similar gathering; for the authorities .of the federa-tion or their delegates to make suitable visitations; to summon or, according to t[:e norms of law, to transfer a superioress or other nun. b. To promote the fraternal collaboration of monasteries~ the same faculty may be established to enter on an elective or appointive office in another monastery; to give any type of aid or alleviate needs of another monastery; and even for the private good of a particular nun but only within the limits determined by the statutes. c. For the better formation of nuns. When common houses have been founded, the statutes may contain clearly determined provisions permitting nuns, when so appointed or recalled, to enter, remain, and return from such houses. 55 BOOK REVIEWS " Review for Religious d. For the uniform observance of cloister in the monas-teries of the federation, the statutes may make some enact-ments. For the same purpose, although the rights of the local ordinaries and regular superiors always remain intact, the statutes may prescribe the special intervention of the religious assistant or superioresses of the federation for petition~ to the Holy See on cloister, e. g., for extraordinary journeys,.a prolonged stay outside the monastery, and similar matters. e. For monasteries devoted to works and thus subject to minor cloister, the statutes may enact the works that may be undertaken, the persons who may be admitted habitually or in " individual cases into the section for the works, and may also prescribe the manner, conditions, and safeguards for such entrance. Book Reviews [Material for this department should be sent to Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana.] AN IGNATIAN APPROACH TO DIVINE UNION. By Louis Peeters, S.J. Translated from the French by Hillard L. Brozowski, S.J. Pp. 114. The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee 1. 1956. $3.00. Father Brozowski is to be congratulated and thanked for making available in English a work which first appeared in French over thirty years ago, and has through all that interval been crying for an English translation. It should prove also to be a most valuable and welcome con-tribution to the celebrations of the Ignatian Year. To many readers Father Peeters' little book may come like a revela-tion. Whole classes of men have come to look upon the mystics as starry-eyed dreamers, so occupied with the interests and satisfactions of another life that they have neither time nor inclination for traffic with the prob-lems and difficulties of the present life. And for them St. Ignatius was the saint of the practical life, the organizer, the trainer, the director, the law-maker, so immersed in the duties of the here and now that he 56 January, 1957 BOOK REVIEWS had no time for the joys of the then and there. - His role in their eyes was so practical as to be almost pedestrian. Father Brozowski's transla-tion will open those eyes to the true state of affairs, and let them see that ¯ all the time he was one of the greatest mystics of his own age, or of any age, as discerning readers of his autobiography, or the remains of his personal journal, or large sections of his vast correspondence have so well known. Father Peeters sets about correcting this picture, and he limits him-self to the 81~iritual Exercises, a little book which some might think pro-vides very unpromising material to prove a thesis in mysticism. Without any far-fetched interpretations, or any clever manipulation of texts, he shows with a clearness brighter than day that St. Ignatius not only leads his exercitant right up to the gates of the mystical life, but that he actually takes it for granted that, in the course of the Exercises, when they are made in their entirety, and according to the instructions he lays down, the exercitant will experience the mystical touch of God's grace, will exl~erience God, which, of course, is an entirely different experience from a public manifestation of the power of grace over one's physical faculties. Father Peeters reminds us that "for Ignatius action and contempla-tion are not and cannot be two alternating currents, two movements which succeed each other at more or less regular intervals" (p. 67). think that it is here that he touches on the real originality of St. Ignatius, who insisted on a fusion of action and contemplation. His follower was not to pass from contemplation to action, as from one state to another, from prayer, let us say, to preaching or teaching or counselling, and then back from preaching 'or teaching or counselling to prayer again. But he was to carry his contemplation with him. Ignatius did not want the instrument separated even for an instant from God; God and instru: ment were to remain perfectly united; and this union of man with God, achieved in and by grace, was supposed so to grow in man the instru-ment, by the perfect denial of his self-will, that there would be nothing in him at all to oppose the working of God's will. He himself had achieved this union, and it was this that led Father Nadal to call him "'in 13lena actione conteml~lativus,'" contemplative in the thick of action. Ignatius's mysticism was in Father de Guibert's happy phrase, a "mysti-cisin of service." It is largely this "mysticism of service" that he proposes in the Exercises, as a means, of course, of attaining to that perfect union with God. So far as it in him lies, the exercitant prepares himself by this 57 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religiou$ service until God sees fit to bestow it. ~t cannot be seized by strength or by stealth. It is only God's to give, and He gives it to whom He pleases and when He pleases. But as Father Peeters amply shows, the author of the Exercises seems to take it for granted that eager and earnest effort will reap their reward; even more, ~.hat from the language of the £xercises understood in its fulness, it is St. Ignatius's conviction that it will happen throughout. Father Brozowski deserves our thanks for his thoughtful addition of an appendix containing those passages of the Exercises at length which help for a more complete understanding of the text. -~WILLIAM J. YOUNG, S.J. A RIGHT TO BE MERRY. By Sister Mary Francis, P.C. Pp. 212. Sheed and Ward, New York 3. 1956. $3.00. d Right to be ]l.lerry is a sprightly apologia for the contemplative vocation of the Poor Clares. In many ways it is a remarkable book, drawing an attractive and telling portrait of Poor Clare life within the compass of two hundred pages. Neatly woven into. the fabr;c of Sister Mary Francis's narrative are a history of the order, a commentary on its asceticism and rules, and a detailed account of the daily regimen in her own monastery at RoswelI, New Mexico. A Rigl~t to be i]'lerry is not autobiography; yet in places it is certainly autobiographical. It is not history nor a treatise on Christian asceticism; yet at times it is both historical and ascetical. Perhaps ie can best be classified as a series of integrally related essays on the Poor Clare vocation, intended pri- ¯ marily for the laity. Many are the books and pamphlets on religious life which profess to do all the things which .4 Ri#ltt to be 21"lerry actually does. These books describe with accuracy an order's foundation, comment upon the "holy rule," and print verbatim a copy of the daily order. The particu-lar merit of Sister Mary Francis's book is that ic treats these same topics with an ease, warmth and humor which win from the reader a new admiration for the life of the Poor Clares. d Ri~ltt to be 2]'Ierry, it is true, has no new theories to spin on the purpose and place of the re-ligious and contemplative vocation in the modern world; in some places its treatment of certain subjects is too conventional. Nonetheless, the book does present the orthodox and traditional dressed in a refreshing and feminine style. Sister Mary Francis's observations on the three vows of religion are an instance of the balanced and positive outlook which t~ermeates the 58 January, 1957 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS book. Another example is her appreciation of the relationship between the active and contemplative orders in the Church: ". active sisters and contemplative nuns form a single and marvelous entity, not two hostile camps." Difficulties and problems within the cloister are handled with efficient dispatch, but not with any attempt to minimize them out of existence. d Right to be Merry should be weicomed to the growing library of popular explanations of the religious life. Religious will find the book enjoyable, and certainly worth placing into the hands of a girl considering a religious, especially a contemplative, vocation. --JOHN W. O'MALLEY, S.J. BOOK ANNOLIblCI:M~NTS THE BRUCE PUBLISHING CO., 400 N. Broadway, Milwaukee I, Wis. Biblia Sacra. Edited by Gianfranco Nolli and A. Vacari, S.J. This is the latest official edition of the Latin Vulgate Bible. Its format makes it ideal as a convenient reference book. There are four small volumes (5~/2 inches by 3½ inches). Volume one contains the historical books; volume two the writers, the Psalms, and Canticles; volume three the prophetical books; volume four the New Testament in both Latin and Greek. The Psalms appear in both the Vulgate and the new authorized Latin version. Pp. 3800. $12.00 the set. CATHOLIC DISTRIBUTORS, 901 Monroe St., N.E., Washington 17, D.C. The Church and Israel. By J. Van de Ploeg, O.P. This is a very timely booklet giving the Church's stand on the Jewish nation and race. You will find here a frank discussion of the relations between Jews and Gentiles. Pp. 62. $0.90. Unusual 13aptismal Nantes. By Walter Gumbley, O.P. A boon for the busy pastor who must check the suitability of baptismal names. Pp. 54. Paper $1.00. THE CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY OF AMERICA PRESS, 620 Michi-gan Ave. N.E., Washington 17, D. C. The Morality of Hysterectomy O~erations. By Nicholas Lohkamp, O.F.M. The volume is a dissertation submitted to the faculty of the School of Sacred Theology of the Catholic University of America. It will be of interest to priests. Pp. 206. Paper $2.25. 59 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review fo~" Religious F. A. DAVIS COMPANY, PUBLISHERS, Philadelphia. Medical Ethics. By Charles J. McFadden, O.S.A. Those who are familiar with the earlier editions of this book will be pleased to learn that a fourth revised and enlarged edition is now available. It is a book for doctors and nurses and for those who teach the topics of special ethics which a~ply to them. Pp. 491. $4.25. ' FIDES PUBLISHERS ASSOCIATION, ~746 E. 79 St., Chicago 19, Ill. Conversation with Christ. ~ln Introduction to Mental Prayer. By Peter-Thomas Rohrbach, O.C.D. The author'writes with conviction and enthusiasm: conviction that anyone can learn the art Of mental prayer; enthusiasm for mental prayer as an indispensable,means of perfection. He addresses himself to the novice in the art of mental prayer. As a guide he has chosen the great Saint Theresa, as we should expect of a Carmelite. He has succeeded in giving a very simple and convincing exposition. Pp. 171 $3.75. This [4"ay to God. By John Rossi. Translated by J. A. Abbo and T. A. Opdenaker. The purpose of this little book "is not only to lead its readers to holiness of life, but to inspire them to apostolic activity so necessary today in the face of the activity of the forces of evil. In struc-ture it resembles the Imitation; every paragraph is short and weighted with meaning. Pp. 287. $2.75. Mental Health in Childhood. By Charles L. C. Burns. This book is a brief introduction to the contributions psychiatry has made to the education of children. Its author is Senior Psychiatrist to th~ Birming-ham Child Guidance Service in England. Pp. 86. $2.75. GRAIL PUBLICATIONS, St. Meinrad, Indiana. Valiant 14Zoman. Edited by Peg Boland. Foreword by Loretta Young. Here are fifteen sketches of dramatic incidents in the lives of' as many married women. The virtue most required to cope with the situations presented was courage, frequently of an all but heroic degree. The book affords inspiring reading particularly for girls and women. Pp. 195. $2.50. The Court of the Queen. By Sister Mary Julian Baird, R.S.M. Though all the saints were devoted to our Blessed Lady, some excelled in the proofs of their devotion, while others were specially favored by visits from their heavenly mother. In this volume we find brief biog- . raphies of ten such knights of the Queen. Pp. 73. $2.00. St. Frances Cabrini Color Book. Saint Francis of/lssisi Color Book. Text by Mary Fabyan Windeatt. Illustrations by Gedge Harmon. Pp. 33. Each 35c. 60 January, 1957 t~OOK ANNOUNCEMENTS THE NEWMAN PRESS, Westminster, Maryland. The Rule oi St. ,4ugustine. With Commentary of Blessed Alphonsu~ Orozco, O.S.A. Translated by Thomas A. Hand, O.S.A, A ten page prologue gives the principal biographical details of the life of Blessed Alphonsus Orozco. The Rule of St. Augustine odcupies only 16 pages and is, no doubt, the shortest rule of any order or congregation. The remaining 68 pages are commentary on the rule, Pp. 84. $2.75. Prayin# Our Prayers. By H. P. C. Lyons, S.J. The author applies the second method of prayer of St. Ignatius of Loyola in a way that will appeal to the modern mind to four great prayers: the Our Father, the Hail Mary, the Hail, Holy Queen, and the ,'lnima Christi. Pp. 72. Meditations on the Life o] Our Lord. By J. Nouet, S.J. This new edition is a condensation and re_vision of a well-known classic. ~.t now appears as a single volume in small but very legible type. Pp. 450. $4.75. The Education o[ the Novice. By Ambrose Farrell, O.P., Henry St. John, O.P., Dr. F. B. Elkisch. Each chapter contains a lecture given at Spode House in 1955 to about fifty mistresses of Novices. 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Though the problem of the education of sisters is not quite the same in France as it is in the United States, still the differences are not so great but that we can profit by what is being don~ in France. Pp. 192. $3.50. Meeting the l/ocation Crisis. Edited by George L. Kane. A copy of this book should be found in every religious community and every rectory. It discusses the problem of vocation from many angles, and shows what others have done successfully to secure vocations. Are you doing all that you can to swell the ranks of the workers in the fields of God's harvest? A reading of this book will probably suggest many things that you could do and have not yet done. Pp. 204. $3.00. 61 ues ons Answers Juniorates, i.e., for the period of continued spiritual formation and completion of studies immediately after the noviceship, are being rapidly introduced in lay institutes. Are there any canonical norms for the selection of the teachers in juniorates? Canon law does not legislate on houses of study in lay religious institutes. Higher superiors, however, should be attentive to the follow-ing legislation on clerical houses of study as a directive norm of their actions. Only exemplary religious are to be assigned to a house of studies (c. 554, § 3); the spiritual prefect or master is to possess the qualities required in a master of novices (c. 588, § 2); and the profes-sors are to be outstanding not only in learning but also in virtue and prudence, and capable of edifying the students both by word and example (c. 1306, § 1). The spiritual qualities requisite in the professors have been constantly emphasized by the Roman Pontiffs, who have based their teaching on the following maxim expressed in the words of Leo XIII: "The exemplary conduct of the one who presides, particularly in the case of the young, is the most eloquen

Issue 16.4 of the Review for Religious, 1957. ; A. M. D. G. Review for Reh ious JULY 15, 1957 St. ~John of the Cross . Sister'Mary St. Rose R~vitalizing Our Spiritual Life . Harold F. Cohe. Departure After Temporary Profession . . .Joseph F. Gallen AIIocution Concerning Tertianship . pope plus- Book Reviews Questions and Answers Roman Documents VOLUME 16 NUMBER 4 RI::VII::W FOR R LIGIOUS VOLUM/~ 16 JULY, 1957 NUMBER 4 CONT£NTS ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS: DOCTOR OF DIVINE LOVE-- Sister Mary St. Rose, S.N.D . 193 REVITALIZING OUR SPIRITUAL LIFE-- Harold F. Cohen, S.J . 211 DEPARTURE FROM RELIGION ON THE EXPIRATION OF A TEMPORARY PROFESSION--Joseph F. Gallen, S.J . 215 FONTI FIFE . 223 SURVEY OF ROMAN DOCUMENTS~R. F. Smith, S.J . 224 ALLOCUTION CONCERNING TERTIANSHIP-- Pope Pius XII . 236 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 240 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS-- Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana . 241 REVIEW OF CATHOLIC CHURCH MUSIC . 249 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS: 19. Bows at Benediction . 250 20. Recourse Against Exclusion from Profession . 250 21. Seasonal Prefaces . 251 22. Ordinary Confessor and Cases Reserved in the Institute . 251 23. Occasional Confessor and Jurisdiction for One Other Woman. 252 24. Occasional Confessor Only for Professed and Novices . 252 25. Transfer to Another Monastery . 253 26. Using School Section of Minor Cloister for Community During Vacations . 254 27. Restoration of Solemn Vows in Monasteiies of Nuns . 255 28. Mass To Be Said on a Ferial Day . 256 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, July, 1957. Vol. 16, No. 4. Published bimonthly by The Queen's Work, 3115 South Grand Blvd., St. Louis 18, Mo. Edited by the Jesuit Fathers of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approval. Second class mail privilege authorized at St. Louis, Mo. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J.; Gerald Kelly, S.J.; Henry Willmering, S.J. Literary Editor: Robert F. Weiss, S.J. Copyright, 1957, by The Queen's Work. Subscription price in U.S.A. and Canada: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U.S.A. Please send all renewals and new subscriptions to: Review for Religious, 3115 South Grand Boulevard, St. Louis 18, Missouri. St. dbhn ot: the Cross Doctor ot: Divine Love Sister Mary St. Rose, S.N.D. THE name of St. John of the Cross sometimes elicits a strange reaction: a gentle, modest man.who sincerely pre-ferred oblivion-to power, solitude to lecture hall, and peace to self-justification or defense of the major work of his life, he seems to cause a kind of recoil; perhaps an awe-inspiring viril-ity beneath the disarming serenity, is sensed even after the lapse of almost four hundred years; perhaps to too many he is the Doctor of the Nothing rather than the Doctor of Divine Love. Born Juan de Yepes in the little village of Fontiveros, just thirty miles north of Avila, in 1542, of relatively poor artisans, he was moved at seven years of age, after the death of'his father, to Medina del Campo, where his mother had better pros- . pects of supporting her small family. John early showed such aptitude for study rather than for crafts that he became the prot~g~ of Don Antonio Alvarez de Toledo and, while work-ing in the hospital of his patron, studied till he was nineteen at the Jesuit college in Medina. At twenty, he entered the Order of Carmel, was professed a year later, and studied arts and theology for three yea~s in Salamanca, where one of the four leading universities of the time was located. Ordained in 1567, he met St.'_Teresa_in the same year and was persuaded to abandon his desire to become a Carthusian in favor of help-ing initiate a restoration of the primitive Carmelite rule. Together with the rather impractical but fervent Fra~ Antonio and his five clocks, he planted in a miserable hut in Duruelo the seedling which eventually developed into the Dis-calced Carmelites. Eight happy years of peaceful spiritual and intellectual maturing were followed by a year as professor in the Discalced College of the University of Alcala and by five years in Avila, where as confessor of the hundred nuns of the 193 SISTER MARY ST. ROSE Review for Religious Incarnation, to which St. Teresa had been forced to return as prioress, he wrought a miracle of reformation. But the peaceful years were over; the. Mitigated Carmelites, increasingly embittered by the success of the reform, forcibly seized John on December 3, 1577, and, when their efforts to induce him to abandon the reform were fruitless, flogged and imprisoned him, first at Avila and later--after a confirma-tion of the sentence by the General, Tostado--at Toledo. In a six by ten, windowless cell, during eight and a half months of .bread, water, and fish, with almost daily floggings and no change of clothing, he etched in his own soul the masterpiece of cooperation with God's grace of which we get echoes in his-poems, begun even during his imprisonment, finished and de-veloped later into those unique commentaries which have earned for him the supreme doctorate of the Church itself in the science of mystical theology. Escaping from his prison on August 15, i578, he went south into Andalusia, stopped at Beas, where the lovable Anne of Jesus was prioress, and where he began for 'the devoted nuns his oral commentary on .the "Spiritual Canticle." At Monte Calvario, where he spent eight months recuperating, he began the .4scent o[ Mount Carmel and the Dark Night, finish-ing them, as well as the S/~ir.itual Canticle and the Living Flame o[ Love, during six years as prior in Granada. This was a relatively quiet interlude before the final storm. By a Bull of Gregory XIII in 1580, the Discalced had been separated from the Calced, and the ambitious Doria had been made general of the former. John was' his vicar-general till the chapter of 1591, in which he opposed the revocation of the'Teresian constitutions and other drastic alterations. Sent after the chapter to La Pefiuela as a simple friar and a virtual exile, he experienced the cruel trial of defamation to such an extent that his friends feared that he, even as his old associate. Gracian, would be expelled in disgrace from the order. But the purification was to be of another kind. He fell ill of fever 194 July, 1957 ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS and erysipelas and was sent for medical attention to Ubeda, where the prior had an old score~a pievious reprimand--to settle with him; fobd, medicin.e, visitors, all were denied John or given grudgingly till the intervention of the provincial brought relief--but too late. At midnight on December 14, 1591, John diedl true to his name and like ihe God-man he had so loved~ unknown, suffering, disgraced, abandoned. Guide to the Highest Sanctity To those of us who, inspired at first perhaps by curiosity. about this reputed mystic of mystics, persist in cultivating his friendship, he reveals himself as one of the most human and tender of saints, a corisummate psychologist, a master theo-logian, an uncompromisi.ng guide to the highest sanctity. To prove this assertion from his works would be a relatively easy but decidedly lengthy task. My aim is more modest but still sufficiently ambitious, perhaps even presumptuous: to show from his most logically constructed work, the Ascent of Mount Carmel and its sequel, even its integral part, the D'ark Night, how he responds to the age-old longing of a soul in love with God for a sure road and a swift road to the embrace of the Divine Lover. But first to consult a recent Baedeker for a panoramic view: The end of man is the vision of God-~or, perhaps more ac-curately, to glorify God and enjoy Him forever.~ . . . It is easier to intoxicate people's minds with a desire for contemplation than it is to persuade them of what is required before that gift can be received. ¯ . . Briefly it may be said that the gift of contemplation will always be given to. those who make themselves poor enough in spirit and pure enough in hear~ to receive it. Let me hasten to add, in line with the masteri of the spiritual life, that this poverty of spirit and purity of heart call for detachment but not violent asceticism . But if physical austerities are relativel~ of little importance, what is of fundamental importance is the mortification of self; that is to say, the eli~nination of self-will, self-interest, self-centered think-ing, wishing, and imagining. May I suggest that contemplation-- often conceived of in too intellectualist terms--is nothing else but the realization of God's presence and of our utter dependence on Him. The contemplative is simply one. who sees the divine-human situation as it is. Hence the contemplative state is essentially pas- 195 SISTER MARY ST. ROSE Review for Religious sive; that is, an alert passivity by which we are, in varying degrees of clarity, aware of God--both as transcendent above His creation and immanent within it . The impediments are whatever concentrates our thoughts on the ego--vices, obviously; but also self-centered virtues. Self-for-getting love is of course the key--that agape of the New Testament. This does not mean an anxious striving after God, but letting Him work His wil! in us; imitating God's love for us by a correspondent compassion toward our neighbor, loving the unlovable . When a man can from his heart realize that the only thing that makes sense is that he shall submit to God's invasion of his own little world, on the principle that if God's kingdom is to come then 'my kingdom must go, he will then be as near to the state of contemplation as makes no difference.~ The Nature of Infused Contemplation Now this is the theory, succinctly put by a modern theo-logian. Before we clothe this skeletal outline with living flesh, it may be advisable to take sides in the controversy about the precise nature of infused contemplation, for itis fatally easy to read one's own views into St. John's words. Without at-tempting to justify my choice, I turn. from the position main-tained by Father Reginald Garrigou-LaGrange, O.P., to that of Father Elmer O'Brien, S.J., and Father Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen, O.C.D. The former puts the matter neatly: I can find no positive reason for asserting that God's sanctify-ing presence must, in the laws of grace, eventually rise above the threshold of spiritual consciousness (except, of course, if one holds for a materialistic concept of grace), and on the other hand the burden of witness in the Christian tradition is against it.'-' The latter, in a passage worth quoting at length for its clarity and charity, has this to say: We have seen how, from the teaching of St. John of the Cross, it follows that the activity of the contemplative gifts of the Holy Ghost may be either hidden or experimental. Both forms are proper actuations of these gifts, which proceed from one and the same principle but are distinct as regards the effect they produce in the subject which receives them. Sometimes they are perceived, some- 1 Graham, Aelred, O.S.B, and others, "Infused Contemplation as the Nor-mal Development of the Life of Grace and the Virtues," Proceedings of the Ninth ~l'nnual Convention (Catholic Theological Society of America, 1954). 203-205. ¯ 2 Ibid., 221. 196 July, 1957 ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS times not, but the soul is always really a~ted upon b~, the gifts and hence there is real infusion. The speculative theologian, who is not directly considering the different form~ which this divine action may take in different souls and at different periods of the spiritual life, will easily give the name of infused contemplation to every form of contemplation in which the action of the gifts intervenes. The Teresian mystical teaching, on the other hand, which distinguishes two modes of divine action, will give the name of acquired to the contemplation resulting from the hidden action which assists the soul's activity, and reserve the name infused for the contemplation in which God makes Himself pei'ceived. Hence the term infused contemplation takes on a different meaning in.the different schools of spirituality.~ With this background and with the prospect of an ex-perienced, intrepid, compassionate guide, we are ready to put on our seven-league boots and take the hand of St. John. He charmingly suggests this procedure in his St~iritua/ Canticle." "And, to the end that this thirsty soul may come to find her Spouse and be united with Him through union of love in this life, so far as she may, and allay her thirst with this drop that can be tasted of Him in this life, it will be well, since the soul asks this of her Spouse, that we should take her hand on His behalf and answer her by showing her the surest place where He is hidden, so that she may surely find Him there with the perfection and pleasure that is possible in this life, and thus may not begin to roam about vainly in the tracks of her companions.''~ With little more than a thread of comments as road signs, I shall let St. John speak for himself. And first, his motive, purpose, and outline of the journey as given in ./lscent o/: Mount Carmel." "It is sad to see many souls to whom God gives both favor and capacity for making progress, remaining in an elementary a Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen, O.C.D., St. John o/ the Cross (Newman Book-shop, Maryland, 1946). 95. 4 Peers, E. Allison, tVorks of St. John of the Cross (Burns, Oates and Wash-bourne Ltd., 1934). All the quotations throughout the remainder of the article are taken from this two volume work. Because of the extent of the quoted mat-ter, quotation marks rather than reduced type will be used from this point to the end. 197 SISTER MARY ST, ROSZ Review for Religious stage of communion with God, .for want of will, or knowledge, or becatise there is none who will lead them in the right path or teach them how to get away from these beginnings. ",Wherefore, to the end that all, whether beginners or proficients, may know how to commit themselves to God's guid-ance, when His Majesty desires to lead them onward, we shall give instruction and counsel, by His help, so that they may be able to understand His will, or, at the least, allow Him to lead them . "For a soul to attain to the state of perfection, it has ordinarily first to _pass through two principal kinds of night, which spiritual persons call purgations or purifications of the soul; and here we call them nights, for in both of them the soul journeys, as it were, by .night, in darkness. "The first '~ight or purgation is of the sensual part of the soul, which . . . will be treated in the first part of this book. And the second is of the spiritual part; of this . . . we shall treat likewise, in the second and the third part, with respect to the activity of the soul; and in the fourth part, with respect to its passivity. "And this first night pertains to beginners, occurring at the time when God begins to bring them into the state of con-templation; in this night the spirit likewise has a part, as we shall say in due course. And the second night or purification pertains to those Who are already proficient, occurring at the time w'-h~n God desires to set them in the state of union with God. And this latter night is a more obscure and dark ~and terrible purgation, as we shall say afterwards." Night of the Senses Good pedagogue that he is, St. John believes not in goad.s but in stimulants for the arduous uphill climb; speaking of the yearnings of love which' are the effects of generosity, he con-tinues: 198 Ju~, 1957 ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS ~ "In order to conquer all the desires and to deny itself the pleasures which it has in everything, and for v)hich its love and affection are wont to enkindle the will that it may enjoy them, it would be necessary to experience another and a greater enkindling by another and a better love, which is that of its Spouse; to the end that, having its pleasure set upon Him and deriving from Him ~ts strength, it should have courage and constancy to deny itself all other things with ease." In earnest he begins the stripping of all impediments from the sensitive appetites: "He that loves a creature becomes as low as is that ~reature, and, in some ways, lower; for love not only makes the lover equal to the object of his love, but even subjects him to it. Wherefore in the same way it comes to pass that the soul that loves anything else becomes incapable of pure union with God and transformation in him. All the being of Creation, then, compared with the infinite ~Being of God, is nothing. And therefore the soul that sets its affections upon the being of creation is likewise nothing in the eyes of God, and 'less than nothing; for, as we have said, love makes equality and similitude, and even sets the lover below .the object of his love . The soul that. is ravished by the graces and beauties of the creatures has only supreme misery and unattractiveness in the eyes of God. Any soul that makes" account of all its knowledge and ability in order to come to union with the wisdom of God is supremely ignorant in the eyes of God and will remain far removed from that wisdom. [In summary,] as long as the soul rejects not all things, it has no capacity to receive the spirit of God in pure transformation . . . [for the philo-sophical reason that] as in natural generation no. form can be introduced unless the preceding, contrary form is first expelled from the subject, which form, while present, is an impediment to the other by reason of the contrariety which the two have between each other; even so, for as long as the soul is sub- 199 SISTER MARY ST." ROSE Review for Religious jected to the sensual spirit, the spirit which is pure and spiritual cannot enter it." But to prevent the appalling error of Stoicism, he care-fully distinguishes involuntary movements of the appetites from voluntary: "It is true that all the desires are not equally hurtful, nor do they equally embarrass the soul . . . for the natural desires hinder the soul little, or not at' all, from attaining to union, when they are not consented to nor pass beyond the first move-ments-- that is, all those wherein the rational will has had no part, whether at first Or afterward--and to take away these-- that is, to mortify them wholly in this life--is impossible . "The other voluntary desires, whether they be of mortal sin, which are the gravest, or of venial sin, which are less grave, or whether they be only of imperfections, which are the least grave of all, must be driven away every one, and the soul must be fre~ t:rom them all, howsoever small they be, it~ it is to come to this complete union; and the reason is that the state of this. divine union consists in the soul's transformation, accord-ing to the will, in the will of God, so that there may be naught in the soul that is contrary to the will of God, but that, in all and through all, its movement may be that of the will of God alone . "Although a person .who suffers them (natural desires which are not voluntary, and . . . thoughts that go not beyond the first movements, and other temptations to which the soul is not consenting) may believe that the passion and disturbance which they then cause him are defiling and blinding him, it is not so; rather they are bringing him the opposite advantages. For, insofar as he resists them, he gains fortitude, purity, light, and consolation, and many blessings, even as our Lord said to St. Paul that virtue was made perfect in weakness." When our eagerness to start is hardly to be restrained, he gives us the road map at last. How strongly suggestive it is of 200 July, 1957 ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS the tantum quantum "of St. Ignatius; indeed, that simple but infinitely challenging Ignatian norm permeates all the detailed directions by which St. John implements the ltscent's 'famous Chapter Thirteen. "First, let him have an habitual desire to imitate ~hrist in everything that he does, conforming himself to His life; upon which life he must meditate so that he may know how to imitate it, and to behave in all things as Christ would behave. "Secondly, in order that he may' be able to do this well, every pleasure that presents itself to the senses, if it be not ¯ purely for the honor and glory of God, must be renounced and completely rejected for the love of Jesus Christ, who in this lifd had no other pleasure, neither desired such, than to do the will of His Father, which He called His meat and drink . "For the mortifying and calming of the four natural pas-sions, which are joy, hope, fear, and grief, from the concord and pacification of which come these blessings, and others like-wise, the counsels which follow are of'the gr~test help, and of great merit, and' the source of great virtues." .~ Night of the Spirit Then follow the famous counsels for which all the world remembers St. John and which he concludes with the singing words, a refrain to haunt one's soul: "When thou thinkest upon anything, Thou ceasest to cast thyself upon the All. For, in order to pass from the all to the All, Thou has to deny thyself wholly in all. And, when thou comest to possess it wholly, Thou must possess it without desiring anything. For, if thou wilt have anything in all, Thou hast not thy treasure purely in God." Turning now his attention to the spirit of man, St, John shows that the.intellect is purified by faith; the memory, by 201 Si~TER M.~Y ST. ROSE Review for Religious hope; the will, by ~harity. He begins with the definition, the necessity, and the danger of not living by faith; then, be-cause of .the special difficulties of this stage of the venture, he presents a clear view of the goal. "Faith, Say the theologians, is a habit of the soul,, certain and obscure. And the reason for its being an obscure habit is that it makes us believe truths revealed by God Himself, which transcend all natural light, and exceed all human under-standing, beyond all proportion . In the same way [as a partially blind man], a soul may lean upon any knowledge of its own, or any feeling or experience of God; yet, however great this may be, it is very little and far different from what God i.s; and, in going along this road, a soul is easily led astray or forced to halt, because it will not remain in faith like one that is blind, and faith is its true guide . And thus a soul is greatly impeded from reaching this high estate of union with God when it clings to any understanding or feeling or imagina-tion or appearance or will or manner of its own, or to any other act or to anything of its own, and cannot detach and strip itself of these . "Here I treat only of this permanent and total union ac-cording to the substance of the soul and its faculties with re-spect to the obscure habit of union: for with respect to the act, we shall explain later, with the divine favor, how there is no permanent i~nion in the faculties, in this'life, but a transitory union only . When fhe soul rids itself totally of that which is repugnant to the divine will "and conforms not with it, it is transformed in God through love. God cbnlmunicates Himself most'to that soul tliat has progressed farthest in love, namely, that has its will in closest conformity with the ~vill of God. And the soul that has attained~ complete conformity and likeness of will is totally uni~:ed and transf6rmed, in God super-naturally . But the. soul that attains not to such a measure of purity as is in conformity with its capacity never attains 202 July, 1957 ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS true peace and satisfaction, since it has not attained to the possession of that detachment ~and emptiness in its faculties which is required for simple union." Returning. to his concern for the cleansing of the under-standing by faith, he breaks into a cry of anguish over those who will never take seriously our Saviour's counsel to deny themselves utterly and, hence, will never reach the gbal in this life. I quote only the concluding words of a long passage: '~Herein they become spiritually enemies of the cross of Christ; for true spirituality' seeks for~ God's sake that which is distasteful rather than that which is delectable; and inclines itself rather to sufl:ering than to. consolation; and desires to go without all blessings for God'g sake rather th~n to enjoy sweet' communications', knowing that" this is to follow Christ and to deny oneself, and that the other is perchance to seek oneself in. God, which is clean contrary, to lox~e.'~' All kinds of knowledge other than faith are relatively use-~ less: "The farther the soul progresses. !n spirituality,, the .re. ore it ceases from the operation of the faculties in particular acts, for it becomes more and more occupiedin one act. that.is gen-eral and pure;.and thus the faculties that were journeying to a place whither the soul has arri;ced cease to Work, even as the feet stop and cease ~o move when their journey'is over . And, as such so~uls know not the mystery of this new experience, the idea comes to them that they are being idle and doing noth-ing; and thus they allow themselves not to be quiet, but endeavor to meditate and reason. Herice they are filled with aridity and affliction, because they seek ~to~ find sweetness where it is no longer to be found.' . St. John ~hen gi~es the signg by; which We may know whethe~r we have' reached this point in our progress, signs too frequently, reproduced for me to quote them here." Then, after examining one by on'd'the various natural' and supernatural kinds' of kriowl- 203" SISTER MARY ST. ROSE Review for Religious edge which the soul may receive and from which it should detach itself, he comes at last to the intuition of naked truth, aboutJwhich he becomes almost lyrical: "And these lofty manifestations of knowledge can only come to the soul that attains to union with God, for they are themselves that union; and to receive them is equivalent to a certain contact with the Divinity which the soul experiences, and thus it is God Himself who is perceived and tasted therein. And, although He cannot be experienced manifestly and clearly, as in glory, this touch of knowledge and delight is nevertheless so sublime and profound that it penetrates the substance of the soul . . . for such kinds of knowl.edge savor of the Divine Essence and of eternal life . And I say not that the soul should behave in the same negative manner with regard to these apprehensions as with regard to the rest, for . . . they are a part of the union, towards which we are directing the soul; to which end we are teaching it to detach and stril5 itself of all other apprehensions. And the means by which God will do this must be humility and suffering for love of God with resignation as regards all reward; for these favors are not granted to the soul which still cherishes attachments, inas-much as they are granted through a very special love of God toward the soul which loves Him likewise with great detachment." To the purification of the memory, St. John gives detailed attention, concludes with a powerful paragraph, and then focuses the major portion of Book III of the ~sc~'nt on the will. Purgation of Memory and Will "Hence, the more the soul dispossesses the memory of forms and things which may be recalled by it, which are not God,. the more will it set its memory upon God, and the emptier will its memory become, so that i~ may hope for Him who shall fill it. What must be done, the:,, that the soul may live in the perfect and pure hope of God is that, whensoever these distinct images, forms, and notions come to it, it must not re~t in them, but must turn immediately to God, voiding the memory of them entirely, with 2O4 July, 1957 ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS loving-affectioh. It must neither think of these things nor don-sider them beyond the degree which is necessary for the under-standing and performing of its obligations, if they have any con-cern with these. And this it must do without setting any affection or inclination upon them, so that they may produce no effects in the soul . "We should have accomplished nothing by the purgation of the understanding in order to ground it in the virtue of faith, and by the purgation of the memory in order to ground it in hope, if we purged not the will also according to the third virtue, which is charity, whereby the works that are done in faith live and have great merit, and without it are of no worth . The st~:ength of the soul consists in its faculties, passions, and desires, all of which are governed by the will. Now when these faculties, passions, and desires are directed by. the will toward God, and turned away from all .that is not God, then the strength of the soul is kept for God, and thus the soul is able to love God with all its stiength. And, to the end that the soul may do this, we shall here treat of the purgation from the will of all its unruly affections . These affections and passions are four, namely: joy, hope, grief, and fenr." Apparently St. John intended to give instructions concern-ing each of these passions in their impact on the will and every good to which the will of man is attracted. He did not complete the project; yet even the truncated treatise is a masterpiece of analysis of all the subterfuges by which we seek ourselves instead of God.__:_ The general truth W]~l~--which he prefaced his treatment will serve as a summary: "This truth is that the will must never rejoice save only in that which is to the honor and gloi:y of God; and that the greatest honor we can show to Him is that of serving Him according to evangelical perfection; and anything that has naught to do with this is of no value and profit to man." 205 SISTER MARY ST. ROSE Review for Religious The Dark Night St. John abruptly ended the Ascent, having completed only half of what he had promised, the t~o purgations "with respect to the activity of the soul," of the sensual part and of the spiritual part of the "soul. The two purgations "with respect to its passivity" he reserved for treatment in his Dark Night, a work considered his especially original .contribution to~ my~stical theol-ogy. In it he tharks clearly the point of departure, th~ neces-sity, thd general conspectus, and the signs that the soul is ready f6r this'last and most trying part of its ascent tO" perfect uniofi with God. "Into this dark night souls begin to enter when God draws them'forth from the state of beginners--w~hich is the state of those that meditate upon the spiritual roadmand begins to set them in the state of progressives--which is that of,those who are already contemplatives--to the end that, after passing through it, they may arrive at the state of the perfect, which is that of divine union of the soul with God . ¯ "However greatly the soul itself labors, it~ ~annot actively purify itself so as to be in the least degree prepared for the divine union of perfection of love, if God takes not its hand and purges it not in that dark fire, in the way and manner that we have to describe. "The night of senseis common and comes to many; these are the beginners; and of this night we shall first speak. The night of the spirit is the portion of very ~few, and thes~e are they that are already practise.d and profi.cient,~ of whom we shall treat hereafter . "For the making of this distinction ['between aridities from the night of the sensual desires and from sins and imperfec-tions] I find that there are three principal'signs. The first is whether, when 'a soul finds no pleasure or consolation in the things of God, ~it also fails to find it in any thing" created; for, as God sets the soul in this dark night to' the end that He may 206 July, 1957 ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS quench and ~purge its sensual desire, ~He allows it not to find attraction or sweetness in anything whatsoever. . . The sec-ond sign whereby a man may believehimself to be experiencing the said purgation is. that ordinarily the memory is centered upon God, with painful care and solicitude, thinking that it is not serving God, but is backsliding, because it finds itself without sweetness in the. things of God, . . The third sign . . is that the soul can no longer meditat~e or reflect in its sense of the imagination, as it was wont, however much it may endeavor to do so." St. John assures us that if we follow the procedure he suggests in the Dark Night we shall surely receive the prom-ised fruits, which to any one who has not experienced them sound" like cold comfort. "What they must do is merely to leave'the soul free and disencumbered and at rest from all knowledge and thought, troubling not themselves, in that state, about what they shall think or meditate, but Contenting themselves with no more than a peaceful and loving a~tentiveness toward God, and in being without anxiety', without the ability and without desire to .have experience of Him or to perceive Him . "This is the first and principal benefit caused by this arid and dark night of contemplation: the knowledge of oneself and of one's misery . And the smallness of this self-satis-faction, together with the soul's affliction at not serving God, is considered and esteemed by God as greater than all the con-solations which the soul formerly experienced and the works which it wrought, however great they were, inasmuch as they were the occasion of many imperfections and ignorances." For fear we should consider ourselves aimost at our jour-ney's end, St. John disillusions us gently but firmly, tells the nature of the dark night of the spirit through ~ which we must grope, its effects, and its distinctive characteristic, and at last reveals to us th~ consummation of our~ quest. 2O7 SISTER MARY ST. ROSE Review for Religious "These proficients have two kinds of imperfection: the one kind is habitual; the other actual. The habitual imperfec-tions are the imperfect habits and affections which tfave re-mained all the time in the spirit, and are like roots, to which the purgation of sense has been unable to penetrate. The dif-ference between the purgation of these and that of this other kind is the difference between the root and the branch, or be-tween the removing of a stain which is fresh and one which is old and of long standing. For, as we said, the purgation of sense is only the entrance and beginning of contemplation leading to the purgation of the spirit, which, as we have like-wise said, serves rather to accommodate sense to spirit than to unite spirit with God. But there still remain in the spirit the stains of the old man, although the. spirit thinks not that this is so, neither can it perceive them; if these stains be iaot re-moved with the soap and strong lye of the purgation of this night, the spirit will be unable to come to the purity of divine union . "This dark night is an inflowing of God into the soul, which purges it from its ignorances and imperfections, habitual, natural, and spiritual, and which is called by contemplatives in-fused contemplation, or mystical theology. Herein God secretly teaches the soul and instructs it in perfection of love, Without its doing anything, or understanding of what manner .is this infused contemplation . "And when the "soul is indeed assailed by this divine light, its pain, which results from its impurity, is immense; because, when this pur~ light assails' the soul, in order to expel its im-purity, the soul feels itself to be so impure and miserable that it believes God to be against it, and thinks that it has set itself up against God . The second Way in which the soul suffers pain is by reason of its weakness . . . for sense and spirit,-as if beneath some immense and dark load, are in such great .pain and agony th. at the soul would find advantage and relief in 208 July, 1957 ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS death . The third kind of suffering .~. results from the fact that two other extremes meet here in one, namely, the Divine and the human . As a ~result of this, the soul feels itself to be perishing and melting away, in the presence and sight of its miseries, by a cruel spiritual death . The fourth kind of pain is caused in the soul by another excellence of this dark contemplation, which .is its majesty and greatness, from which arises in the soul a consciousness of the other extreme which is in itself, namely, that of the deepest poverty and wretchedness: this is one of the "chiefest pains that it suffers in this purgation . "For spiritual things in the soul have this characteristic, when they are most purely spirit.ual, that, when they are trials, the soul believes that it will never escape from them, ~and that all ~its blessings are ndw over, as has been seen in the passages quoted; and when they are spiritual blessings, the soul believes in the same way that its troubles are now ove.r, and that bless-ings will never fail it . "In the midst of these dark afflictions, the soul feels itself to be keenly and acutdy wounded in strong divine love, and to havea certain realization and foretaste of God . It some-times comes to pass that this mystical and loving theology, as well as enkindling the will, strikes and illumines the other faculty also--that of the understanding--with a certain divine light and k-fiowledge, so delectably and delicately that it aids the will to conceive a marvelous fervor, and, without any action of its own, there burns in it this divine fire of love, in living flames, so that it now appears to the soul a living fire by reason of the living understanding which is given to it . Thus the pres-ence of God is felt, now after one manner, now after another. ¯ . . That dark love cleaves to the soul, causing it a most watch-ful care and an inward solicitude concerning that which it must do, or must not do, for His sake, in order to please Him. It will consider and ask itself a thousand times if it has given Him 209 SISTER MARY ST. ROSE cause to be offended; and all this it will do with much greater care and solicitude than before . For here all the desires and energies and faculties of the soul are recollected from all things else, and its effort and strength are employed in pleasing God alone . After this manner, b'y this mystical theology and secret love, the soul continues to rise above all things .and above itself, and to mount upward to God. For love is like fire, which ever rises upward with the desire to be absorbed in the center of its sphere." But prose is a poor vehicle now. Even St. John stops trying to finish the Dark Niyht. To the Spiritual Canticle or the Living Flame of Love we must turn for the epitha-lamium of God. and the soul: "My love is as the hills, The lonely valleys clad with forest trees, The rushing, sounding rills, Strange isles in distant seas, Lover-like whisperings, murmurs of the breeze. "My love is hush-of-night, Is dawn's first breathings in the heaven above, Still music veiled from sight, Calm that can echoes move, The feast that brings new strdngthmthe feast of love." and "O living flame of love That, burning, dost assail My inmost soul with tenderness untold, Since thou dost freely move Deign to consume the veil Which sunders this sweet converse that we hold." Revit:alizing Our Spiri!:ual Lit:e I-larold I::. Cohen, S.J. WE MUST be struck, at least occasionally, by the difference between ourselves and what our religious institutes would have us be, and by the difference between ourselves and those of our brothers in Christ whom the Church holds up as models of sanctity, and finally, by the difference in the fruit produced by our saints and that produced by ourselves. Per-haps in our more serious moments we ask ourselves the reason for this. We may answer that God gives more grace to some than to others and let it go at that. But then we are not being honest with ourselves, for whatever the measure of God's grace, our own correspondence to that grace can give us serious concern. The answer is not difficult to state--it is difficult to admit. The reason we lack sanctity and fruitfulness in the apostolate is that we are not united with God. We are not the men of prayer, recollection, and study,that God wants us to be. We try to ser~,e two masters, God and the world. We turn, as if mag-netized, to the distraction of-TV, radio, sports, movies, and magazines--and we have to admit that these things withdraw us from silence and recollection in God. We all know, of course, that these things are not only not sinful, but a moderate use of them is helpful to us. But in seeking a solution to our own-lack of high spirituality and consequent weak apostolate, we certainly should give serious consideration to just how moderately we use them. For if we find that instead of being men of faith who have cut ourselves away from creatures by poverty and. self-denial, exuding the fragrance of Christ to all we come in contact with, we are men given over to our own ease and comfort, with more interest in picture magazines than hungry, poorly housed human beings; that we who profess as our purpos~ in life the salvation of souls are more interested in watching a 211 HAROLD F. COHEN Review for Religious game on TV than hearing confessions, more interested in cock-tail parties than visiting the sick~if we find these thi,ngs, we must admit that we lack .moderation in our use of legitimate diversions, and that now, no longer, a means, they have become an end in themselves. Once we realize that we are not united with Goc~, and that at least one of the causes is our effusio ad exteriora, we might again ask ourselves, "Why?" Have we lost the secret of sanc-tity of the saints? Or are we living in an age that necessar!ly precludes doing great things for Christ? Certainly we started off seeking union with God in the beginning of our religious life--the trouble is that having learned our lessons in the noviti-ate, we have let our vivid ideals grow dull with the passage of time. A new set of ideals has replaced them subconsciously, the ideal of the "good" priest or religious: faithful (more or less) to spiritual exercises, at least in the beginriing of his change-over, he none the less .frequently enjoys himself at the entertainments of externs; and he over-emphasizes the "breaks" affor_ded by his institute, freely partaking of '~the good things of this world," push-ing far to the back of his mind the crucified Christ. " Of course he loves Christ; he can even tolerate the idea of a crucified Master, but His cross is fast becoming to him, as to the world of which he is a part, something hard to understand. Nights are not a time of prayer, study, and apostolic labo~, but for "neces~'ary" relaxation. The hungry souls waiting for the bread he alone can give them are still waiting. _ How can we get back to our novitiate ideals of prayer, self-sacrifice, and' hard work for God? How can we get back to them in a practical way? Here a litany of meang opens before us. I will suggest only one, but one that'is the means of re-vitalizing our spiritual life. It is a return to serious prayer. "He who abides in Me and I in him, he it is that b:ears much fruit. For without Me you can do nothing" (John 15:4). If we daily share the intimacy of our divine Friend, His pres-ence can't help but have its effect on us. But if we are to 212 July, 1957 REVITALIZING OUR SPIRITUAL LIFE share this,intimacy, our prayer must be serious¯ We often-- or perhaps less--put in our daily time of prayer; yet few would dare call themselves men of prayer. We are not making con-tact. The vitalizing grace of the Vine is not flowing into the ¯ branches, and consequently we bear little fruit. The juncture, the point of union, is closed up. To establish the contact with Christ. our thirsting souls need, we have to make prayer our primary interest. Once we truly are making a serious effort in prayer, God will show us what changes have to be made in our lives, and He will give us the grace to make them. When we respond to these graces, our prayer takes on its deepest meaning: "Thy will be done," His will for our own shedding of self to put on the generosity of Christ, to put afide comforts to dedicate ourselves to the salvation of the souls He died for. Once. we are in this state of self-dedication, God usually eases with His consolations the difficulties of prayer. For after all, as Father Boylan s6 well points out in his Difficulties in Mental Prayer, our main difficulty in prayer is that we are afraid to come face to face with God because we are not doing His will in some way or another. For our prayer to reach this full flowering, we have to do the spade work of daily effort. And here is the crisis, for our wills are weak. It is.a decision we must all make--to give up the pleasures of long nights to get up in the morning and down on our knees--or to live in a lethargy that can look only with concern to the day of accounting before the divine Shepherd, who sees His sheep dying of hunger because we would not feed them. Once the decision to pray seriously is made, we have to take the means to make our decision effec-tive: the preparation of points the night before, and hardest of all, the excluding of all the distracting thoughts that crowd into our minds at night and in the morning. (With regard to points, choosing a good book is a problem; the Gospels; the Psalms, and the Imitation are good stand-bys. New matter 213 HAROLD F., COHEN isn't necessary every day, for the same over a period of time often supplies all the spiritual food we need. Sometimes a book isn't at all necessary for determining the actual matter of the meditation, "for we simply can jot down a few thoughts that occur to us and fill in the remaining time by reading.) " In the moining we have to have the grim determination to stick at it despite the difficulty and not to consent to any dis-tractions. The final point is a check-up afterwards to see how it has gone, why thdse points helped, why I did or didn't do well, etc. We often neglect this; so it is good to recall that those wiser than we have suggested--or prescribed--it and that it is the means to progress in prayer. Before concluding, I would like to make three pertinent remarks. (1) A daily reading from the Gospels, if only one or two incidents, at the beginning of spiritual reading or points will be helpful in bringing about contact in prayer, bringing before us as it does Jesus in all His attractiveness. (2) There is no subject like the Passion of Christ to stir up our love and gratitude and zeal. (3) Some make no progress in prayer be-cause they have gotten all they can out of meditation and affective prayer. They need that simpler form of prayer, called by spiritual writers the prayer of simplicity. This prayer is described by Tanquerey in The Spiritual Life, and more at length by Lehodey, o.C.S.O., in Tke I~ays of Prayer and Pou-lain, s.J., in Tke Graces of Interior Prayer. The time has come" for the~e souls to slow down their rowing and start letting out their sails. To conclude, then, our weak interior life and poor apos-tolate are~ due mainly to a lack of serious prayer. Once we begin to pray in earnest and grow in friendship with Christ, He will give us the graces to lead a life united to Him and to pass on our love and enthusiasm to others. It is one of the promises of His Heart to make tepid souls fervent. What better time to remind Him of His promise than in our daily prayer? 214 Depart:ure From Religion on t:he I::xpira!:ion ot: a Temporary Prot:esslon ,Joseph F. Galleh, S.,J. 1. Definition. On the expiration of any temporary profession, e. g., of one, two, or three years, a religious is free to leave his institute; and the institute, for just and reasonable causes, may exclude the religious from making any further profession, i. e., a renewal of temporary vows or perpetual profession. An exclu-sion is not a dismissal. Dismissal in canon law is verified only by an expulsion during the. time of the vows. An exclusion is an expulsion at the expiration of the vows. Therefore, the canoni-ca~ norms on dismissal do not apply to an exclusion. In its nature, an exclusion is not so much an expulsion of a member but rather a refusal to admit to further profession and a judgment and decision that a subject in a probationary period of the reli-gious life does not possess a vocation at least for the particular institute) 2. Leaving. The religious has no canonical or moral obligation to remain. The code explicitly asserts his canonical freedom to leave (cc. 575, § I; 637). He is also morally free to leave, since no law of God commands him to remain in a life of counsel on the expiration of his vows. A moral obligation would arise only accidentally and in cases that are not very practical, i. e., if one had vowed to remain in religion or intended to leave because of a sinful motive.: Furthermore, in practically all these cases there would be a sufficient reason for a dispe~nsation or commutation of the private vow; find in the instance of the 1Cl¢. Bastien, Directoire Canonique, n. 607, 1-2; Goyeneche, De Religiosis, 194, note 10; D'Arnbrosio, /ll~ollinaris, 4-1931-124. zCf. Goyeneche, Commentarium Pro Religiosis, 5-1924-86-93; Schaefer, De Religidsis, n. 1519; Geser, Canon Law Governing Communities o/ Sisters, n. 1072. 215 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religion, s sinful motive, there would rarely be lacking also morally good and, at least in some cases, even compelling motives for such a religious to leave. The religious is not obliged to obt~iin the consent or approval of his superior of his intention to leave, but prudence would practically always demand that he consult his superiors or a prudent confessor concerning so important a decision. 3. Exclusion. (a) Competent superior. Canon 637 leaves to the constitutions the determination of the superior competent for exclusion. The constitutions of lay congregations .usually assign this right to the superior general with the consultive vote of his council, but a few demand the deliberative vote. A small number of constitutions give this power to the provincial or higher superiors either alone or with the consultive or, less fresluently, the deliberative vote of the council. If the consti-tutions contain no determination, the competent higher superior is the one who has the right to admit to the profession from which the religious is excluded. Since exclusion is merely the denial or correlative of admission to profession and admission require~ at least a consultive vote (c. 575, ~ 2), it would be more in conformity with the code for this higher superior to consult his council. Such consultation is not strictly obligatory, since canon 637 treats exclusion separately from admission and does not .impose any vote of a council. The same principle applies in a monastery of nuns to the superioress and the vote of her council or chapter when the matter of exclusion is not determined in the constitutions. No particular process is prescribed by the code for the decision oi~ exclusion. Since exclusion is merely the .negation of admission to profession, it is part .of the delibera-tions or decision on admissibn to the profession in question. A few authors state the eviden~ fact that canon 637 does not reserve exclusion to a higher superior and conclude that the constitu-tions may.assign this right to a local superior. Howev.er, this is not the practice of constitutions nor does it seem to be in con-formity with the evident nature of an exclusion, which is a re- 216 July, 1957 DEPARTURE AFTER TEMPORARY PROFESSION fusal of admission. Canon law reserves admission to profession to higher superiors (c. 543). (b) Sufficient reasons for exclusion. Evidently the sufficient reasons are those that render the, subject either certainly finsuited or only dubiously suited for admission to the profession in. ques-tion. It is permissible but not obligatory to grant a renewal or prolongation of. temporary vows in the latter case provided there is solid hope that certain suitability will be attained by the renewal or prolongation. The doctrine of many authors that the judg-ment of the sufficiency of the reasons for exclusibn is left to the conscience of the competent higher supe. rior is evident from the fact and law that the judgment of the suitability for a profession appertains to the competent higher superior (c. 543). The code expresses this principle of suitability in canon 637 by demanding merely just and reasonable, not serious'or grave, reasons for an exclfision. In judging the sufficieficy of the ~easons, the general good of the institute is to be considered above" that of" ~he indi-vidual. The following are the particular sufficient reasons usually listed by authors by way of example: the lack of a religious vocation or of a firm and constant vocation; serious doubts as to the general suitability of the subjecf for the religious life; inepti-tui: ie for the work of the institute, even if fully known to ~uperiors before profession, whether the ineptitude arises from~ a lack of general ability, intelligence, ol appl;c.ation, from ~i defect of pru-dent jtidgment, laziness, negligerice; or from culpable or inculp-able causes; if it is. foreseen'that th~ subject will be only a' very mediocre religious, will be tepid, careless in the spiritual life, or worldly; those who are habitually negligenh careless, or tepid in religious observance, even though not in gerious matters, and wh6 have refused to correct their conduct; those who cause serious discord in the community; those who will find community life very. difficult and will make it difficult for others; and when it-is foreseen that the subject will be rather harmful than ~usefu! to the institute. An exclusion without a just and reasonable motive 2~17 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious is a sin against charity and the law of the Church but it is not unjust nor invalid. In the very few institutes that have only temporary vows or in which the prescribed temporary profession is longer than six years, it is the more probable and common opinion that after more than six years in temporary vows merely just and reason-able causes do not suffice for exclusion but serious and' culpable reasons joined with incorrigibility are necessary. The argu. ments for this opinion are that canon 642, § 2, appears to liken a tem-~ porary profession beyond six years to perpetual vows and that it seems inequitable to exclude one who has been so long in religion for merely just and reasonable causes.3 (c) Ill Health. Ill health is a sufficient motive for exclusion only if it is proved with certainty that it had been contracted and fraudulently concealed or dissimulated before the first profession of temporary vows (c. 637). The same principle is true of dismissal (c. 647, § 2, 2°). Ill health is therefore not a sufficient motive for exclusion if it was contracted after the first profes-' sion or if it was contracted before this profession but was then known to the superior or, if unknown, was not fraudulently con-cealed or dissimulated before the first profession. The fraud must be proved with certainty. It is sufficient that the fraud have been committed by anyone who had the obligation of mani-esting th~ illness, i. e., the religious, his parents, or guardians.4 Lack of ability for the duties of the institute is not a suffi-cient reason for exclusion if it is the result of an infirmity that was not fraudulently concealed or dissimulated before first profes-sion, since What is true of sickness is also to be affirmed o.f the consequences of sickness. Such a religious may be counselled and 3D'Ambrosio, 05. cit., "4-1931-124-28; Vermeersch-Creusen, l!l~itome luri~ Canonici, I, n. 795; Creusen, Religious Men and IVomen in the Code n. 331, 2; Jombart, Tra",t "e de Dro"*t Canot*'*que, I, n. 903, 6; Jone,. Commenta"'r m" m *n C'od*- cem luris Canonici, I~ n. 560; Schaefer, 01b. cit., n. 1523; Sipos, En~t~iridion luris Canonici, 333. 4 Goyeneche, De Religiosis, 194. 218 ~ July, 1957 DEPARTURE AFTER TEMPORARY PROFESSION persuaded to leave religibr[ ~oluntarily 0~'~o transfer to the class of lay brother or sister. The principle with regard to ill health is true also of ail-ments such as hysteria and neurasthenia. Superiors, without using constraint, may counsel and persuade all such persons t6 leave religion voluntarily) If they will not leave, their ailment and conduct can constitute a serious problem. If their improper or strange conduct certainly or probably has its source in the ail-ment, they may not be excluded; if the malady is certainly only a pretext for such conduct, they may be excluded. Frequently at least, they should be taken to a specialist and may be sent to an institution for the care of such patients. The case may be presented with all its circumstances to the Sacred Congregation of Religious.6 These difficult cases make evident the care and decisiveness superiors should exercise in admission to the pos-tulanc); and noviceship and in dismissing unsuitable subjects dur-ing these periods of probation. The master of novices should promptly consult higher superiors concerning even probable man-ifestations of such conc~mons. Since canon 637 permits an exclusion for ill health only if it was fraudulently concealed before first profession, a novice may not be admitted to temporary profession as an experiment and on the condition that he will be excluded at the end of tem-porary vows if his health does not improve.6 (d) Insanity. The Sacred Congregation of Religious replied on February 5, 1925, that a religious could not be excluded from an institute because of habitual and complete insanity (total lack of use of reason), whether temporary (curable) or perpetual 5 Cf. Berutti, De Religiosis, 325. o Cf. Jombart, Revue des Communaute's Reli#ieuses, 5-1929-200-201; Bastien, o1~. cit., n. 631, 6. ~ Cf. Bastien, 0~. cir., 450, note ~. SCreusen, 0p. cir., n. 331, 1; Jombart, Trait[de Droit Canonique, I, n. 903, 5; Coronata, lnstitutiones luris Canonici, I, 838, note 5; Palombo, De Dimissione Religiosorum, 202, Bastien, o~. cir., n. 607, 5; Jone, olb. cir., I, 561; Goyeneche, Quaestiones Canonicae, II, 123-24. 219 JOSEPH F, GALLEN Review for Religious (incurable), contracted after first temporary profession.:' Evi-dently such a religious may not be admitted to a renewal of tem-porary vows or to perpetual p'rofession during the tim~ of his insanity, since he is incapable of a human act. He must be re-tained by the institute and therefore may not be sent away either by exclusion or dismissal. He remains in the same juridical con-dition as at the time he lost his mind; and consequently he has the same rights and the instiLute has the same obligations to him as to any professed of temporary vows. He may be sent to an institution and even to his own family, if the family freely asks or accepts his care. He is still a member of the institute, and the expenses of his support and care are to be borne by the institute unless the family freely accepts them. An absence of more than six months outside any house of the institute do~s not demand the permission of the Holy See in such a case J" If he recovers and is found suitable, he is to be admitted to further profession. Prudence would, practically always demand a pro-longation of temporary vows, and ordinarily such a person is to be advised to leave the institute for his own goodJ~ It is more probable that the time of the temporary profession continues to run during the insanity. From the reply of the Sacred Congre-gation, however, it is also probable that the time of such profes-sion is suspend.ed during the insanity. Even in the former opin-ion, the subject is still a member of the institute and must be retained when the time of the vows has expired. 4. Manifestation of reasons. The religious is to be informed ot~ his exclusion in due time, orally or in writing, by the com-petent higher superior, either personally or through another. The latter should be at least a local superior. Kindness is to be shown to the excluded religious. The code does not oblige the compe- '~ B.ouscaren, Canon La~" Digest, I, 309-10. ¯ ~o gEVtEW FOg gEt.tGIOUS, November, 1956, 290-91. ~ Cf. Maroto, Commentarium Pro Religiosis, 6-1925-177-79; Goyeneche, Quaes-tiones Canonicae, I, 430-31; Coronata, op. cit., I, n. 639; Regatillo-Zalba, De Statibus Particularibus, n. 25 I. 220 July, 1957 DEPARTURE AFTER TEMPORARY PROFESSION tent supdrior to manifdst "tl~e.reasons for ~the exclusion to the religious. This may be done, and some authors counsel it that the religious may institute a recourse to a higher superior or the Holy See if he chooses to do so. The reasons should always be drawn up completely and accurately and retained in the files of the institute so that a replK may be given in the event of a recourse, .par'ticularly of one to the Holy See. 5. Recourse. The code says nothing about a recourse against an exclusion. The religious may institute a recourse to a higher superior or the Sacred Congregation of Religious simply because a religious may always do this against an action of a lower author-ity that he believes to be unreasonable or unjustified. There is no special right either from canon law or the nature of the matter of making a recourse against an exclusion. A recourse to the Sacred Congregation has very little hope.of, success except in the case of a clearly illeg'al exclusion,r' The Holy See evidently knows that by canon law (c. 54J) the competent superior is the judge of the suitabiliW of a subject for profession and conse- .quently of.the sufficiency of the motives for exclusion from pro-fession. It" is equally clear that motives that may not appear sufficient in. themselves are often such when viewed as a whole and joined with observation of the .subje~t. A recourse does not suspend ttie effect of the exclusion. The religious should leave the institfite and put ~ff the religious habit. He may be per-mitted to r~main in a: house of the institute and to wear the habit until i~he recourse is definitively settled. 6. Effects of a voluntary departure and of exclusion. If a re-ligious voluntarily leaves or is excluded at the expiration of a temporary profession, the vows cease. There is no need of a dis-pensation from the vows. The other effects in either case are the same as in secularization, which were explained in the RE'CIF~W FOR RELIGIOUS, September, 1956, 233-36. r2Bastien, op. tit., n. 607, 3; Jombart, Re¢aur des Communaute's Reliyieuses, 5-1929-164. 221 JOSEPH F, GALLEN Review for Religious 7. Moment at which the religious fully departs. The i,mportance of the answer to .this question is that it determines the exact mo-ment in which the religious is freed of his vows, ceases to be a religious, is bound by the diriment impediment of a previous religious profession, and rendered incapable of valid admission to the noviceship of any institute without a dispensation from the Holy See (c. 542, 1°). After such an admission, a noviceship and temporary profession must be made for the full time pre-scribed by the constitutions of the particular institute. The religious fully departs at the moment in which his external and absolute declaration of not making a further profession or the external and absolute declaration of the competent superior of not admitting him to a further profession is joined with the expiration of temporary vows.~3 There are two probable opinions on the moment of the expiration of temporary vows, caused by conflicting interpreta-tions of canon 34, § 3, 5; but either of these opinions may be followed. In the first opinion, the vows expire at any moment on the anniversary day when such a declaration is made or, if made .previously, has not been retracted: Therefore,. if the vows were made for a year, Augut 15, 1956-August 15, 1957, and such a declaration was previously made, the vows expire at midnight of August 14-15, 1957. In this opinion, the sub-ject may depart from the institute at any hour on the anniversary day, i. e., August 15, 1957. If no such declaration has been made, the vows expire at midnight of August 15-16, 1957.14 A second opinion maintains that the vows, when they are not renewed or perpetual profession is not made, never expire before midnight of the anniversary day, i. e., August 15-16, 1957. In this opinion, the subject may depart from the institute at any hour on the day after the anniversary day, i. e., August 16, 1957.1'~ la Cf. Abbo-Hannan, The Sacred Canons, I; 656; Beste, lntroductio in Codicem, 431; Cervia, De Proiessione Religiosa, 110; Coronata, op, cir., I, r~. 639; Goy-eneche, De Reli#iosis, 193; Jone, o,~. cir., I, 562; Schaefer, o,~. clt., nn. 1519-20; Regatillo-Zalba, o/~. cit., n. 250. 14 Cf. Vermeersch-Creusen. o~0. cir., I, n. 728, and the authors there cited. ~sCf. Michiels, Normae Generales Juris Canonici, II, 269, and the authors 222 July, 1957 DEPARTURE AFTER TEMPORARY PROFESSION Neither opinion demands tha't the religiotis have actually departed from the institute. In the rare absence of an explicit declaration, a departure from the institute would constitute an implicit declara-tion not to make a further profession. An external and absolute declaration is necessary. If the religious does not renew his vows or make perpetual profession for some time after the expiration, e. g., because of doubts about his vocation or illness, and later wishes to make profession, he may be admitted to the profession. A merely interior, doubtful, or hesitant declaration of not making or excluding from profession does not suffice. The absolute declaration of not making or of excluding from profession may be revoked before the vows have cergainly expired, i. e., at midnight of the anniversary day, August 15-16 in the example given ,above. Neither declaration may be revoked after the ~iows have certainly expired, even if the religious has not as yet left the institute. 8. Departure before expiration. If serious reasons so demand, superiors may permit a religious to leave a day or two before the. expiration of his vows ~rovided he puts off the religious habit and intends to observe his vows until the anni,~ersary day. Such a reason is the difficulty or embarrassment his .presence would cause as profession proximately approaches or on the profession day.~ If so required by urgent reasons, superiors, in virtue of canon 606, § 2, may permit an earlier departure, e. g., two or three weeks. If a much earlier departure is judged necessary, application should be made for an indult of secularization. FONTI VIVE In March, 1957, Fonti Vive, a quarterly Review of Passion Spir-ituality, began its third year of publication in Caravate (Varese), Italy. The varied articles on theological, liturgical, biblical, and mystical sub-jects seek to promote the understanding, contemplation, and the living out in our lives of Christ's Passion. Those readers of gEVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS who are able to read Italian will be interested in this new publication devoted to Passion spirituality. The editor is Reverend Costante Brovetto, C.P., S.T.D. .there cited. ~6 Creusen, op. cir., n. 331, 3. 223 Survey ot: Roman Document:s R. F. SmiEh, S.J. IN THIS article a survey will be given of those docu-ments which appeared in the Acta Al~Ostolicae ,Sedis (AAS) from January 1, 1957, to March 31, 1957. It should be noted that all page references in the present article are to the 1957 AAS (volume 49}, even when th~o document discussed may bear a date from 1956. Christmas Message of 1956 The Holy Father's Christmas message of 1956 (AAS, pp. 5-22) was easily the outstanding doclament published, in AAS during the period surveyed. The document is a long one of some seven thousand words; it is interesting to note that a large part of the message was not actually spoken b~; the Holy Fafher on Christmas Eve, but was merely published in the official text of the message. In the introduction to his message the Holy Father empha-sizes the contradictidn to be found in the twentieth century: On the one hand there is the confident hope, of modern man that he, as author of the second technical revolution~ c~n bring a life of fullness and plenty to all; and on the other hand there is the bitter fact of the long, long years of grief, ruiri, and fear that the modern world has just endured. His Holiness then begins the first of the three parts into which his message 'is divided by remarking't~hat' the above, con-tradiction can be resolved only by a knowledge and acceptance of human reality in all its completeness. From the crib of Bethlehem man can learn the origins/1 goodness and power given to him in paradise; but he also learns the weakness of human nature that was first manifested in the sin of Adam and Eve and that then became the heritage of all later generations. 22_4 ROMAN DOCUMENTS We know, continues the Vicar of Christ, that man's co.ntrol over nature was given him for the benefit, not the endangering, of human society; original sin has not removed man's dominion 6ver the world, but only security in the exercise of that domin-ion. Neither has original sin destroyed man's capacity to shape history, though it is no less c.ertain that after original sin human life is a mixture of confidence and misery, of security and un-certainty, of life and death. At the crib, however, we also learn that Christ is our Redeemer, come to restore man to his divine sonship and to bestow the grace whereby the disorder produced by original sin and by later personal sins can be overcome at least in the interior of man, if not always exteriorly. The Christian then possesses all the elements necessary to overcome the contra-diction of the twentieth cent~ury in his interior life; this, how-ever, gives him no right to excuse himself from contributing to the external solution of .that contradiction. To make such a contribution, the Pontiff adds, the Chris-tian must have a Clear idea of what modern man thinks of sin. Because modern man does not ddmit sin, he attributes the per-verse inclinations of man to a kind of sickness and functional weakness which of themselves are curable. Modern man~the~ awaits the day when a perfecting of human knowledge will allow him to heal all such moral sicknesses. This technological solution to the problem of moral evil completely overlooks the truth that man is a subject of free action--good or bad--and leads to innumerable evil results: softness in education; indul-gence to crime; aversion to even just punishment; the a~tempt to solve social problems not through the consciende and respon-sibility of individuals, but by the' attainment of a greater knowl-edge of the mechanics of social structures. In the second part of his message Piu~ XII says that one of. the bases of the twentiet,h-century[ contradiction onsists in the hope to create a completely_ new society without reference to 225 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious the history that has shaped man. This attitude is the 'result of that technological realism which admits no limits to human power, subjects every reality to a method of technique, and places unlimited confidence in technological know-how. For technological man, the entire world is but a laboratory wherein he treats social life like a machine which he dismantles and then attempts to reconstruct according to his own pre-conceived pattern. It is here that technological man encounters the insur-mountable obstacle of history. For social life has been created slowly through the contributions of many generations; and it is only upon those contributions that new progress can be built. The dynamics of reform must always respect the traditions of society which safeguard human security without destroying the free and personal action of any part of society. The third part of the Christmas message is the one that most drew the world's attention to the Pope's speech. Thd Holy .Father begins this part by noting that while liberty, per-sonal responsibility, social order, and genuine progress are truly human values, they are in their origin religious and divine values. This religious foundation, however, is today being replaced by economic and political explanations which deny all absolute values. The Holy Father then turns to consider l~ractical ways by which world peace can be achieved. First of all, he says, it is necessary that all men of good will unite together against their common enemy who seeks to impose on all peoples an intolerable form of life. Today's situation, says the Vicar of Christ, is clear to all. There can no longer be any doubts about the purposes and methods that lie behind armed tanks, when.these crash through border frontiers and force a people into a life they abhor. No doubt of purposes, or methods can remain, when possibilities of mediation and negotiation a~e dis-regarded and threats are made to use atomic power for the gaining of specific demands, whether or not these demands are justified. 226- July, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS In the present circumstances it is ~ossible to have the case where, after all efforts to avoid it have been useless, war for the purpose of effective self-defense and with the hope of favorable results cannot be considered as illicit. Hence, if in a case of extreme need a. government chosen by free elections decides on defensive precautions and puts into execution the means necessary for. this, such an action is not immoral; and a Catholic citizen cannot appeal to his own conscience to refuse his services or to fail in the duties assigned by law. The Pontiff then considers the United Nations, the first time that he has spoken of this organization at great length. The United Nations, he remarks, intends to secure absolute values in the co-existence of peoples. Still, the recent past has shown that the false realism of self-interest and power has influ-enced not a few of the members of the United Nations, so that cases of destroying the peace have been treated quite differ-ently. It is reasonable to expect that the authority of the United Nations should be felt, at least through its observers, in all those places where"the essential values of man are in extreme danger. It is desirable that nations who refuse the admission of observers and thereby show that their. concept of national sovereignty threatens the very foundations of the United Na-tions should not be permitted the exercise of their rights as members of that organization. Moreover, the United Nations should have the right and the power to prevent every military intervention of one nation into another and to assume through a sufficient police force the safeguarding of order in a nation so threatened. The Holy Father adds that he refers to these defects only because he wishes to strengthen the authority of the United Nations, for i,t is only through such an organization' that the promise to reduce armaments and to renounce the production and use of certain kinds of weapons can be exchanged between nations ~lnder a strict obligation of international law. Like- 227 R. F. SMITH Review for Religion,s wise, only the United Nations can demand the observance of this obligation by hssuming effective control of the armaments of all nations through a systematic and permanent p'rogram of aerial observation. The Holy Father then adds that the acceptance of such armament control is the crucial point of today; in accepting such control, each nation of the world will manifest the sincerity of its will for peace. Pain, Anesthesia, and the Christian On February 24, 1957 (AAS, pp. 129-47), the Holy Father delivered a long allocution in reply to three questions concerning anesthesia which had been submitted td him by the ninth National Congress of the Italian Society of Anesthesi-ology. After an introduction in which the Holy Father gives an appreciative statement of the importance of the anesthetist in modern surgery and describes the history of anesthesia in ¯ modern times, the Pontiff takes up the first question asked of him: Is there a general moral obligation to refuse anesthetics and to accept physical pain in the spirit of faith? Putting aside the case where a Christian must endure pain rather than offend God, Pius XII points out that there is no obligation to accept all suffering and to refuse the use of anesthesia; for man, even after the fall, has the right to dominate the forces of nature and to use all its resources to avoid or. suppress physical pain. On the other hand, for the Christian, suffering is not some-thing merely negative but is associated with the highest religious and moral values; hence, suffering can be willed and sought for even when there is no moral obligation to do so. Moreover, a Christian is bound to mortify his body and to purify himself interiorly; to the extent that this cannot be achieved without physical pain, to that extent the Christian must accept such pain. Outside of that case, hbwever, it cannot .be said that a Christian has a strict obligation to accept pain. The Vicar of Christ then takes up the question from the viewpoint of Christian perfection: Should a Christian accept 228 ROMAN DOCUMENTS physical pain in order that h~ may not put himself in contradic-tion to the ideal proposed to him by his faith? While it is true, the Holy Father replies, that a Christian experiences the desire to accept and even to seek physical' pain in order to participate the more closely in the Passion of Christ, still it is necessary to interpret this tendency in a correct way. When a Christian, day after day, from mo.rning till night, fulfills the duties of his state in life and of his profession, when he keeps the commandments of God and of men, when he prays, loves his neighbor, accepts without murmuring what God sends him, then his life is surely under the sign of the cross, whether physical suffering be present or not, and whether he endures such suf-fering or avoids it by licit means. The acceptance of physical suffering is only one way, among many, of manifesting what is essential: the will to love and serve God in all things. His Holiness then considers the reasons which permit the avoidance of physical pain. All these reasons, he says, can be reduced to a single general principle: pain prevents the attain-ment of higher goods and interests. Pain may be better for a given person in a given set of circumstances; but, generally speaking, the losses which pain provokes force men to defend themselves against it. A Christian will use pain as a stimulant in his ascent towards God, but the application of this principle will always be a personal matter to be decided by the rules of Christian prudence and with the help of an experienced director of souls. In conclusion~ the Holy Father sums up his. answer to the first question under three headings: (1) Anesthesiology in its fundamental principles is not morally wrong, for it seeks to combat forces which from many points of view produce evil effects and prevent greater goods. (2) The physician who accepts anesthesiology is in contradiction neither with the nat-ural moral order nor with the specifically Christian ideal, for hd is seeking, as God Himself orders in Genesis 1:28, to submit 229 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious pain to the power of man. (3) The patient who wishes to avoid or lessen pain can, without disquiet to his conscience, use the means found by this science. Particular circumstances may im-pose another line of conduct; but the Christian ideal of renuncia-tion does not constitute an obstacle to the use of anesthesia, for that ideal can be fulfilled in other ways. The second question submitted to the Holy Father was this: Is the privation or diminution of consciousness and of the use of mail's higher faculties that is induced by narcotics com-patible with the spirit of the Gospel? In other words, does the example of Christ in abstaining from the wine offered Him before the crucifixion mean that a Christian may not accept total or partial loss of consciousness? The Pope begins by reflecting that a human being is bound to conform his actions to the requirements of the moral order; this, however, can be done only by the use of his higher faculties. This is the reason why there is a moral obli-gation not to deprive oneself of consciousness unless there is a true necessity for such deprivation. Hence, one cannot inter-fere with or suppress consciousness merely for the sake of obtaining pleasant sensations and a certain kind of euphoria. In the case of surgery, the Pontiff points out, what the surgeon primarily wishes to secure is the suppression of painful sensation, not of consciousness. Violent pain can easily provoke involuntary and reflex actions which are capable of producing undesirable complications and even fatal cardiac difficulties. The preservation then of psychic and organic equilibrium constitutes for the surgeon and the patient an important objective which only narcosis can effect. In concluding his reflections on the second question asked him, the Holy Father says that from the action of Christ on Calvary it follows that a 'man ought to accept and drink the chalice of pain whenever God desires it. But it doeg not follow that God desires this whenever and wherever suffering presents 230 July, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS itself to a man. Often the acceptance of guffering is not obliga-tory nor a matter of, perfection. Regularly enough there exist serious motives for easing pain and suffering. J~n such cases one can avoid pain without in any way compromising the doctrine of the Gospel. The third question proposed .to the Vicar of Christ was' composed of two parts: (1) Is the use of narcotics licit in the case of .the dying, supposing that such use is medically indi-cated? . (2) May narcotics be used in cases where the' lessening of pain will probably be accompanied by a shortening of life? In reply the Holy Father asserts fhat neither reason nor rdvelation teaches that the dying, more than others, have a moral obligation to accept pain or to refuse to avoid it. Since, how'ever, pain contributes to the expiation of personal sin and to the acquisition of greater merit, the dying have special motives for accepting pain, because their time of merit is draw-ing to a close. These motives, however, must be understood correctly. Growth in.the lo~¢e of God and abandonment to His will do not proceed from the sufferings which a person accepts, but from the intention of the will supported by grace. In the case of many dying persons this intention can be strengthened if their suffering is lessened, for pain aggravates their physical weakness and hence diminishes their moral strength, while the suppression of pain secures organic and psychic relaxation, facilitates prayer, and makes possible a more generous gift of self. If the dying consent to suffering as a means of expiation and a source of merit, then one should not force anesthesia on them. Nor is it always opportune to suggest to the dying the ascetical considerations of expiation and merit mentiQned above, and it should .always be remembered that pain may even be the occasion of new faults. With regard to depriving a dying person of consciousness, one should recall that Christ died in full consciousndss and that the Church's prayers for the dying presuppose that the dying 231 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious person is conscious. Hence, men should not of their own initiative deprive a dying person of consciousness, unless serious motives for such action are present. A dying person, continues the P~ntiff, may not permit or demand anesthesia if thereby he puts himself in a state where he cannot fulfill g~ave obligations which are incumbent on him, such as the making of a will or of going to confession. If in such cases the dying person dema~ads narcosis for which sound medical reasons are present, a physician should not administer it without first inviting the patient to fulfill his duties. If the sick person refuses to do so and continues to demand narcosis, the physician may administer it without being guilty of formal collaboration in the fault committed by the dying man. But if the dying person has performed all his duties and has received the last sacraments, if there are medical reasons for anesthesia, if the correct doses are given., if the intensity and duration of the anesthesia is carefully watched, and if the patient consents, then anesthesia is morally permissible. As to the licitness of using narcotics which will probably shorten life, the Pope warns that in such cases all direct euthan-asia, that is, the administration of narcotics to provoke or hasten death, is illicit, for such action directly disposes of human life. Bt~t when narcotic.s are administered only to avoid intolerable pain for the patient, th~ administration of narcosis is licit if it produces two distinct effects: the cessation of pain on the one hand and on the other the shortening of life. However, there must also be a reasonable proportion between the two effects and it should be ascertained if means other than the depriving of consciousness could achieve the desired result. The Holy Father concludes his allocution by recalling to the minds of his" listeners the infinitely higher and more beau-tiful life to which man is called and which i~ perceptible even here below in those into whom Christ pours His" redemptive 232 Jldy, 1957 ROMAN. DOCUMENTS love, which alone definitively triumphs over both suffering and death. Miscellaneous Matters On February 1, 1957 (AAS," pp. 91-95), the Sacred Con-gregation of Rites issued a decree introducing a number of modifications into the rites of Holy Week as. set forth in a pre-ceding decree of November 16, 1955. Several documents of early 1957 dealt with saints or with processes of canonization. By an apostolic letter (AAS, pp. 61-62) the Roman Pontiff designated the sainted martyrs Clau-dius, Nicostratus, Symphorianus, Castorius, and Simplicius the special patrons of all stone and marble workers. On January 22, 1957 (AAS, pp. 169-71), the Sacred Congregation of Rites approved the two miracles necessary for the beatification of the Venerable Servant of God Mire Marie de la Providence, foundress of the Helpersof the Holy Souls (1825-71). The same congregation (AAS, pp. 40-42; 82-85; 85-87; 88-90) also approved the introduction of the causes of the following servants of God: Mary Lichtenegger (1906-23); Stephen of Adoain, priest and professed Capuchin (1808-80); Sister Frances of the Wounds of Jesus (1860-99); and Joseph Mafianet y Vires, priest and founder of the Sons of the Holy Family and of the Daughters of the Holy Family of Nazareth (1833-1901). On January 13, 1957 (AAS, pp. 43-44) the Sacred Peni-tentiary attached an indulgence of a thousand days to a prayer for C.hristian families composed by the Holy Father on the feast of Christ the King, October 31, 1954. On February 9, 1957 (AAS, pp. 100-101), an indulgence was attached to the recita-tion of the prayer of the Holy Father for religious vocations; the text of the prayer and the details of the indulgence were given in the May, 1957, issue of REVIE~V FOR RELIGIOUS (p. 165). Several shorter addresses of the Holy Father were published in AAS during the first three months .of 1957. Speaking on 233 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious December 16, 1956 (AAS, pp. 68-72), to the second Eucha-ristic Congress of Bolivia, Plus XII said that the Eucharist is the principal means of knowing Jesus Christ, of penetrating oneself with the greatness of His mission, and of feeling the impulse to continue that mission through the priesthood. In a written message to the third general assembly of the Internal tional Federation of Catholic Youth the Pope urged the group to grow in love and' respect for the Church and to deepen their spiritual lives as the necesshry condition for any fruitful apostolate. When he spoke to the council of the International Federation of Catholic Men, the Vicar of Christ pointed out to them that the visible unity of Christians intensely living their faith is in itself a massive apostolate and a vast testimony that obliges all men of good will to salutary reflection. The Holy Father took the occasion of the Italian Mother's Day (AAS, pp. 72-76) to speak on the duty of all adults to secure for all children the possibility of a full physical and moral development. The Association of Catholic Teachers of Bavaria was told by the Pope (AAS, pp. 63-65) that it is against one of the fundamental human rights to force parents to confide their children to a school whose ~eachers are indifferent or even hostile to the religious convictions of the home. In an address to a group of teachers and students from the newly formed Catholic University in Mexico, the Holy Father remarked that their institution was to be a true Catholic University, dedicated to the training of well-educated and outstanding sons of the Church who can constitute the leaders of their country. Five documents issuing from the Sacred Congregation of Seminaries and Universities (AAS, pp. 95-96; 97; 97-98; 172- 73; 173-74) give continued evidence of the growth of intel-lectual activity in the Church. The documents provided for the canonical establishment of the following: a higher institute of pedagogy in the faculty of philosophy of the Pontifical Salesian Athenaeum; a philosophical institute in the faculty of 234 July, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS theology of Angers; a faculty of philosophy in the Pontifical University of Salamanca; a second Catholic University in Brazil; and a faculty of medicine in the Catholic University of Peru. o A set of questions was published (AAS, pp. 150~63) for the use of military vicars in making their triennial reports to the Sacred Congregation of the Consistory. A decree and a set of norms were issued (AAS, pp. 163-69) for the establish-ingo of ecclesiastical tribunals in the Philippine Islands to deal with matrimonial cases of nullity. On January 21, 1957 (AAS, p. 77), the Holy Office answered in the affirmative the ques-tion whether affinity, contracted before baptism, is an impedi-ment for marriages entered upon after the baptism of only one of the parties. The Holy Office (AAS, p. 34) also warned ordinaries and clergy that the Institute of the Apostles of the Infinite Love and the institute Magnificat are not recognized by the Church and are forbidden to the faithful. Norms for the abso-lution of secular "and regular priests in Hungary whose nom-inations to ecclesiastical offices and benefices were not in accord-ance with canon law were published by the Sacred Congregation of the Council (AAS, pp. 38-39). Finally, .the Holy Office by a decree of January 30, 1957 (AAS, pp. 77-78), placed on the Index of Forbidden Books the two following works of Miguel de Unamuno: Del senti~niento trelgico de la vida and La agonia del Cristianisrno, at the same time warning the faithful that other books of the same author contain a a number of matters contrary to faith and morals. (Both of the books mentioned above have been translated into English under the following titles: The Tragic Sense of Life [New York: Dover, 1954]; and The Agony of Christianity [New York: Brewer, 1928]). With this the survey of AAS for January through March of 1957 is concluded; succeeding articles will continue the survey with later issues of AAS. 235 AIIocufion Concerning TerfiansFfip Pope Pius XII Introductory Note According to the the plan of St. Ignatius .Loyola for the training of his sons for the priesthood, there is a short introductory stage called the first probation in which the candidate becomes acquainted with the religious life and superiors with him. Following this intro-duction is the regular novitiate which, together with the first proba-tion, is to l~ist at least two full years and which is also called the second probation. Next come the long years of study and work in the juniorate, philosophy, regency or teaching, aad theology. St. Ignatius realized that such a course could and often would cool the fervor of the novitiate and dim the-spiritual vision of his sons. Consequently, he piescribed at the end of the whole course of forma-tion another period of spiritual discipline which was to last a tea-month year and is called the third probation or, more commonly, the tertianship. During this year the fervor of the earlier years is rekindled and the appreciation of and-attachment to the Society olc Jesus deepened by an intense study of the constitutions. In rather recent years a number of other religious communi-ties have introduced a tertianship period of varying lengths of time. Some other communities are considering whether to require a tertianship of their members. Fr., Larraona of the Sacred Con-gregation for Religious has said that "Rome views with favor the so-called 'third year of probation' " because it "has incalculabl~ advantages" but it "is not in any way imposed by the Sacred Con-gregation" (gEvIEw FOP. RELIGIOUS, November, 1954, 302). In an allocution to the Jesuit instructors (masters) of tertians, March 25, 1956 (AAS) 48(1956)269-72), Pope Pius XII dwells on the purpose and program of a tertianship and the importance and in-fluence of the instructor on his tertians. Moreover, he ~rges the preservation of the tertianship against those who propose arguments against it which reflect a spirit which on at least two other occasions he has labelled the "heresy of action" (cf. apostolic letter on the centenary of the Apostleship of Prayer, June 16, 1944~English ver- 236 AL.LOCUTION ~ONCERNING TERTIANSHIP sion in the Messenger o/ the Sacred Heart, 79(Dec.,1944) 13; exhorta-tion on the priesthood, Menti Nostrae, Sept. 23, 1950, paragraph 60). Because it was thought that the Holy Father's allocution on the ter-tianship would be ot: interest to those already requiring a tertianship as well as to those considering whether to have one, the following translation is given.--James I. O'Connor, s.J. The Allocution Beloved sons now present before Us, members of the curia of the Society of Jesus, and you, especially, instructors of the third probation, summoned to Rome by the very wise zeal of your Father General, who is very dear to Us, We know that your request is so reasonable and restrained that it would suffice for you to receive from Us the apostolic blessing in a public audience. And yet, although pressed at the present time with so great a host of occupations and cares, We still wish to go aside for a little while with you so that opening Our paternal heart, We may give testimony of Our singular good will to your whole illustrious order and especially to you, instructors, to whom has been committed an office requiring great understand-ing and' prudence. You certainly are a most select section of tl~e Society of Jesus, especially since you have been chosen and numbered among those of your members having special authority: "those who possess authority" (cf. Epit. Inst., S.J., p. V, cap. II, n. 340). For you discharge an office of the greatest importance since it pertains to that class of matters which your institute lists as "substantials of the second order" (Ibid., Proem., tit. V, n. 22). That it should be so is very easy~to understand. For this is the highest and final touch to the work and labor extended over a long period of time in forming souls in the ways of religion and piety. If We may so speak, this is another way whereby the spear is returned to the forge before it is used in apostolic warfare. It is during this interval that the young person is exercised in the "school of affection" to develop thor-oughly the special gifts of his soul. Finally, then, he is urged 237 Pxus XII Review for Religious on to very arduous undertakings, namely, to "a greater abne-gation of himself and, as 'far as possible, to continual mortifica-tion in all things" (Exam., cap. IV, n. [1031, p. 59), so that "when they have advanced in these, they mhy the better help on other souls to perfection to the glory of God and our Lord" (Const. cure Dec/ar., p. V, cap. II, n. I). I. This was your 'founder's ingenious and sagacious pur-pose which has been continuously reduced to practice with great progress in the religious life and which was later more and more accepted and imitated by other institutes.as well. Nevertheless, because four centuries have elapsed since this plan dawned upon his mind and was brought into effect, it can happen that to some people of our time it appears less fitting for various rea-sons, e.g., because people of today are prone to act more promptly and hastily or because the needs of the 'apostolate are more demanding than in times past. Ours is the completely opposite opinion, for the great need of our time is an interior religious life distinguished by constancy, soundness, and strength, most especially because the service and good of souls demand better-trained apostles. As a result, the period of tertianship should be considered really sacred, divinely inspired, and fully and justly worthy of every effort to preserve it. For this reason We exhort you to see to it that, when the course of studies has been completed, each and every one without any exception be given this whole year devoted to intense meditation in houses set aside for this purpose, in which, as far as possible, the tests and probations of the novitiate be again undergone and the prescriptions and rules observed to the letter. II. Nevertheless, in the whole ascetical training of the ter-tianship We desire that you direct singular care to the matter of special importance, namely, that you devote mind and effort to obtaining a thorough kr~owledge of your institute and to im-bibing the spirit with which it is imbued (Epit., p. V, c. III, n. 435). Moreover, the very resplendent character of this form 238 July, 1957 ALLOCUTION CONCERNING TERTIANSHIP of religious life is manifest in the golden book of the Spiritual Exercises which time and again We have highly praised. See to it that. your tertians more and more understand, search into, relish, esteem, and love everything contained in those pages: the notes, additional directions, meditations, contemplations, rules. In each matter let them carefully discern what is the underlying reason, its aim, and why it is found in this or that place. Exercise vigilant care that, when the tertianship is com-pleted, they are thoroughly convinced that the Ignatian way and plan must be fully preserved and that nothing which clearly per-tains to its nature is ever to be removed from it. This observ-ance and reverence Will have this special effect, that such prudent safeguards will continue their effectiveness in accomplishing won-ders as they have done in the past, provided, of course, there is no let-up by an inconstant will or a breakdown of moral fibre. III. Finally, dearly beloved instructors,.spare no labor, spare no effort, strive earnestly and pour out prayers to God that what is especially sought in this important period may have a most favorable outcome. For young religious, after they have been set free from. so many years of study, easily fall into the danger of neglecting spiritual matters or of holding them in little esteem because the fires enkindled earlier die down. But if they betake themselves again into the solitude of this retreat and give them-selves over to voluntary bodily chastisement, they not only will regain their early moral strength but will also acquire new strength, increased and steadfast, which will serve them profitably ~ven in the subsequent years of their life. Great will be their incen-tive to the study of devout prayer, to the austerity of life and the restraint of the senses which, with eyes full of wonderment, they behold in you. Your. words, at once a source of light and of fire, will illumine their minds and impart to their souls the sparks of divine flame. For their journey along safe paths you will be guides, clearly and conspicuously prudent, safe and trustworthy, keeping them by warning and exhortation from running after 239 P~us XII doctrines which pertain to Catholic dogma, morality, asceticism, and sociology but which by their alluring novel ideas show a certain false and insidious nature. By means of your characteristic active charity and your lov-able zeal you will discover how to ward off tedium, if it should arise, from your fellow-members, returned from a freer form of life, and how to curb what may be immoderate apostolic ardor in those who now experience in caring for the salvation of souls the sweet consolations of heavenly grace. It seemed to Us fitting to address to you in this audience these words, few and hasty because of the limitations of time. From all parts of the world you have assembled here and soon, when your meetings have come to an end, you will return, .each to his own province. Take with you the special apostolic bless-ing We lovingly impart to you in the present auspicious year in which with public joy you observe the solemn celebration of the glorious passing of your lawgiver and father. 'And let this be the outstanding fruit of this celebration that the spirit by which you are called by God fo lay hold on the religious life may more and more breathe upon you in greater intensity and ardor. How-ever, these desirable and magnificent gains will deriye their most providential increase from you especially, instructors, and your activity. Finally, may God, the bestower of gifts, bless all of you and each of your tertians. May He bless and bestow plenteous heavenly solace on your most praiseworthy Father General; on the members associated with him in the curia as well as on the whole Society of Jesus to which We are bound by ever sweeter and closer bonds of paternal charity and high esteem. OUR CONTRIBUTORS SfSTER MARY ST. ROSE teaches at Summit Country Day School, 2161 Grandin Road, Cincinnati 8, Ohio. HAROLD F. COHEN is studying at the Colegio Maximo de San Francisco Javier, Ofia (Burgos), Spain. JOSEPH F. GALLEN is profes~sor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. R. F. SMITH is a member of the faculty of St; Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. JAMES I. O'CON-NOR is professor of .canon law at West Baden College,. West Baden Springs, Indiana. 240 t oo1 Reviews [Material for this department should be sent to Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana.] FAITH AND PREJUDICE AND OTHER UNPUBLISHED SER-MONS OF CARDINAL NEWMAN. Edited by the Birmingham Oratory. Pp. 128. Sheed and Ward, New York 3, New ~York. 1956. $2.50. Faith and Prejudice is a short book containing some hitherto unpublished sermons of Cardinal Newman. It is only the third volume to be published of the sermons Newman preached as a Catholic, and it follows the first two after a gap of seventy~ years. The first seven sermons of the book were preached in the year 1848, three years after Newman joined the Catholic Church. Their style has much of the beautiful simplicity noted ia Newman's youth. The Sunday gospel is the subject matter of these sermons. They are addressed to the congregations of an ordiaary city parish. New-man is especially adept at taking a single thought and dwelling on it with warmth and unction. In the first sermon, for example, his thought could 13e crystallized into the sentence: The omnipotence of God is the reason for our faith and hope. Yet Newman takes this somewhat'cold statement ot: fact, so clothes it in familiar examples from the life of Christ, that it becomes no longer a mere theological thesis but rather a living person asking, "Why, then, are you fearful?" For a man of such tremendous learning Newman shows a remark-able ability to understand the circumstances of everyday life in which his hearers had to live out their Catholicism. His application of theory is both concrete and practical. Thus, in a sermon preached on tl~e first Sunday ofLent, 1848, he points out the need for. the modern age to find its penance in a mortification of the reason and the will. His application of this idea to curiosity is perhaps even more perti-nent to our own day, one hundred years and more after Newman spoke these words: "What a deal of time is lost, to say nothing else, in this day by curiosity, about things which in no ways concern us. I am not speaking' against interest in the news of the day altogether, for' the course of the world must ever be interesting to a Christian from its bearing upon the fortunes of the Church, but I speak of vain curios- 241 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious ity, love of sc~indal,, love of idle tales, curious prying into the private histo# of people, curibsity about trials and offences, and personal matters, nay often what is much worse than this, curiosity into sin. What strange diseased curiosity is sometimes felt about the history of murders and the malefactors themselves! Worse still, it is shock-ing to say, but there is so much evil curiosity to know about deeds of darkness, of which the Apostle' says that it is shameful to speak. ¯ . . Hen'ce this is the way in which we are called upon, with this Lent we now begin, to mortify ourselves[ Let u's mortify our curiosity" (p. 71). Perhaps the most interesting sermon is that preached in 1873 at the opening of a diocesan seminary. The growth of unbelief is the subject, and it must have had a powerful impact on Newman. With a keen eye for what the future would bring, he shows the difficulties which the weakening of Protestantism entails for the Catholic Church. It weakens or removes a common ally in the battle against those God-less men who would destroy Christianity. The preacher also recog-nizes what problems would arise from the growing strength of the Catholic Church in a Protestant country, problems of suspicion, fear, and prejudice. He exhorts the semin'arians to the practice of the presence of God as a powerful means of overcoming an age of un-belief. To this they must add a sound, accurate, complete knowledge of Catholic theology; with these weapons the future priests will be strong for the combat. As a whole; these sermons reflect Newman's confidence in prayer and faith and obedience more than do his university sermons which are pitched on a higher intellectual plane~ The present volume is. a welcome addition to Newman's published works. It is a book whose true worth will only be fully appreciated after repeated thoughtful reading. --J. DOtC~,LD" H,~YES,. S.J. PRINCIPLES OF SACRAMENTAL THEOLOGY. By Bernard Leeming~ S.J. Pp, 690. The Newman Press, Westminster, Mary-land. 1956. $6.75. Father Leeming's book, a treatise on the sacraments in ~general, is written for everyone~whether expert theologian, teacher of religion, or competent layman--who is interested in theology for its own. sake. The author, a vetera'n professor of dogmatic theology /it Heythrop College,. England, has made every effort to be scientific ~iithout being 242 July, 1957 BOOK REVIEWS too technical for the non-theologian. He has spared no pains to facilitate the work of the reader. A detailed table of contents is presented at the outset; the volume is equipped with an impressive index in which each entry carries a symbol to signify the type of reference made; there is a thirty-page bibliography of general titles and of titles, pertinent .to each of the six general sections of the book. These general sections are entitled: The Sacraments and Grace; The Sacraments and the Character; Sacramental Causality; The Institution of the Sacraments; The Sacramental Economy. The sections are further divided into chapters, and the substance of most chapters is presented in a ~oncise "Principle" which summarizes the doctrine defended. These principles are stated and 'defended as regards the sacraments in general, Above all, Father Leeming's treatment is distinguished by its clarity; that is, matters of faith upon.which there can be no possibility of debate are cldarly stated and clearly differentiated from matters in which free discussion is allowed, and the vie.wpoints which Father Leeming defends as more p_robable are presented with notification of the precise value of the opinion proposed. Father Leeming's method is traditional, yet modern. He at-tempts to combine the scholastic method (sketching the whole history of thd question and the various opinions proposed, presenting the declarations of the .Church, stating a thesis and advancing reasons for it, and answering objections) with a modern, critico-historical ap-proach. The treatment is therefore complete; that is~ the author attempts to treat all pertinent questions, and to present all pertinent evidence --from scriptural and patristic sources, from the councils of the Church, and from the writings of orthodox and" heterodox scholars, andient and modern--in full translation, critically presented and care-fully annotated. The exhaustive historical analyses do not leave the impression that the book ig merely reportorial. Though the research is encyclo-pedic and ~scholarly; the author's oi'iginal handling of the anaterial is equally appealing. Father Leeming is of. the opinion that the key to the meaning of the sacraments is found in their connection with the Mystical Body of Christ; and in the section dealing with sacra-mental causality, he develops the :notion that "the effect of the sacraments . . . is to make those, who through them communicate 243 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious with Christ, special cells in the organism of His body." In developing this statement, he suggests a reformulation of the definition of a sacra-ment: "an effective sign of a particular form of union ~vith the Mystical Body, the Church, instituted by Jesus Chiist, which gives grace t'o those who receive it rightly." This viewpoint is also the key to the unity of the book itself, for it is applied to each of the sacraments, it is developed in the areas in which theological discussion is permitted, and it pervades the interpretation of the official sacramental doctrines of the Church. --JAMES J. DAGENAIs,°S.J. THE MASS IN TRANSITION. By Gerald Ellard, S.J. Pp. 387. The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee 1, Wisconsin. 1956. $6.00. The value of this book is that it is not limited to a presentation of the author's personal views on liturgical reform. Because of its liberal use of official and semi-official documents bearing on liturgical modifications, Father Ellard's present contribution is dispassionfite and to a high degree objective. As a result, one reads with a sense of security that more rhetorical but less solid works on the subject fail to convey. This is not to say that Father Ellard frowns on liturgical reform or that he is indifferent to it. His stated purpos~e in taking what must have been considerable pains to assemble selections from the two hundred or so documents upon which his observations are based is to advance "toward maturity and toward clarity" current ideas on the modification of the Mass. The theme that runs through mist of the book is taken from the ll.ledialor Dei of Pope Pius XII: that the worship of the Eucharist should be the fountain-head of genuine Christian devotion. The various chapters are concerned with the aspects of liturgical modifica-tion that tend to promote this goal. With a short history of de-velopment in the Mass from apostolic times as a background, the succeeding chapters discuss the efforts made, the results achieved, and the difficulties encountered by the Holy See and by lesser interested groups in promoting lay participation in the Eucharistic Sacrifice. chapter each is devoted to the reform of the Breviary and to the recent tendency of many non-Catholic sects to ~lpproach closer to the Catholic form of worship. 244 July, 1957 BOOK REVIEWS While the extensive use 0f documents does not always make for easy .reading, their very bulk and wide range produce an effect that more than justifies the reader's efforts. Through them one experi-ences the tremendous energy which in the past fifty years has set the liturgical reform in motion; and he is assured that this energy and determination, especially as found in the Holy See and the hierarchy, will succeed in fully restoring the Mass to the people in spite of all the difficulties involved. For the reader with a more professional interest in the liturgy Father Ellard's book gathers into one place a rich collection of up-to-date source material. --PAUL F. CONEY, THE SALVATION OF THE UNBELIEVER." By Riccardo Lombardi, S.J. Translated by Dorothy M. White. Pp. 376. The Newman Press, Westminster, Maryland. 1956. $5.00. Father Lombardi's crusading zeal for "a better world" in accord-ance with the social teachings of the papal encyclicals has occasioned much favorable comment in the Catholic press as well as in non- Catholic news journals like Time magazine. His work as professor of ~heology deserves equally favorable comment, and the proof of this is this volume. The book ig written' for all who are Catholic eno~agh to realize that being Catholic means being apostolic and who are educated enough to follow a skillful teacher through 362 pages of reasoning that is pleasingly adorned with quotations from Scrip-ture, St. Thomas Aquinas, Dante, and papal encyclicals. Specifically, this important volume is for high school or higher units of the Catho-lic Students' Mission Crusade, missionary congregations of religious, and for all Catholics who work or pray especially for our non-Catholic contemporaries, the seventeen million Jews, three hundred and twenty million heretics and schismatics, eleven hundred millior~ heathen or unbelievers in the Judaeo-Christian revelation. Father Lombardi studies honestfy and feelingly and with great charity the chances for salvation for this vast multitude as well for the about fifty billion (Ct6ca~/o Tribune, Nov. 25, 1955) human beings who have so far been inhabitants of this earth. On the one hand, by far the majority of this enormous number are not counted in the "little flock" of Christ. On the other hand are the clear words of Holy Scripture, "God our Savior . . . wishes all men to be saved" (I Tim. 2:3, 4). "But my just one lives by faith" (Heb. 10:38). "Without faith it is. impossible to please God. For. he who comes to God must believe thht God exists and is rewarder to those who 245 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religio'us seek him" (Heb. 11:6). Father Lombardi's study of the problem presented to us by these words and by the all but infinite multitude of unbelievers is consoling to our hope, convincing to our reason, arousing to our zeal. The volume would have profitted by a study of Hinduism in at least as much detail as the author gives to the three other very widespread but very much less intellectually organi~zed non-Christian religions which he studies specifically, Confucianism, BuddhiSm,' Islam~ Hinduism's pre-Homeric Vedas and pre-Socratic Upanishads are re-markable (and vastly voluminousI records of the anitna humana naturaliter Ghristiana.in its quest for God.' The prayer of the: Brihad Aranyaka Upanishad (1, 3, 28), '.'From untruth lead me to truth, from darkness lead me'to light, from death lead me to immortali:y!" is perhaps the greatest prayer outside.the sacred world of the Judaeo- Christian revelation, yet so "naturally Christian" is~ the prayer that it might well have been written by Cardinal Newman in his Anglican d.ays as a note to his Anglican hymn "Le.ad, Kindly Light!" If Father Lombardi issues a ndw edition of his volume, the writings which B.dlgi~n Jesuit scholar missioharies Johanns a~nd Dandoy have published on Hinduism can help l~im show his readers still more reason for l~ope .and for zeal than even this admirable edition does. ---' PAUL DENT, S.J. BOOK ANNOUNCE~AENTS THE BRUCE PUBLISHING CO., 400 N. Broadway, Milwaukee 1, Wiscoiisin. Mother of Fair Love. By Augustine Schroe~ler. Translated by Veronica Kir~land. The medium that the author of this latest life of the Blessed Virgin has chosen ~is the psychological novel. It is a happy choice for it enables her to paint a very vivid picture of our Lady. The book is carefully written anduses tO the full all that scholarship' in various fields has to offer one who would .paint a true-to-life poi'trait of God's most favored creature. Pp. 195. $3.50. An Introduction to' Philosophy. By Daniel J. Suliivan.To master the fundamentals of any subject is usually quite difficult. This is especially true of philosophy and particularly so for those who 246 July, 1957 "~OOK ANNOUNCEMENTS have no scientific background. This book was written with such im dividuals in mind. You will find in it a history of philosophy and a clear exposition of the problems that philosophy labors to solve. The book was the March selection of the Thomas More Book Club. Pp. 288. $3.75. The Catholic Priest in the Modern World, by James A. M~gner, is a very careful analysis of the many problems which 'the priest, and particularly the pastor of a parish, must solve. Pastors, ctirates, and seminarians who read the book will find th;~ time spent on it well spent. There is an adequate index. Pp. 286~ $4.75. Ho!y Week Manual for Servers. By Revo Waiter J. Schmitz, S,S. A copy of this book in the hands of each server should do much to add to the dignity and smooth performance of the compli, cared Holy Week services. Pp. 60. $0.50. Fundamental Marriage Counseling. A Catholic Viewpoint. By John R. Cavanagh, M.D. This is a very complete book on all aspects of marriage counseling and the many problems the counselor has to solve. There are 531 'pages of text, a bibliography of 31 pages, an 8 page glossaryl and a 25 page index. $&00. FIDES PUBLISHERS, 7~44 E. 79th St., Chicago 19, ~llinois. In Father of the Family, by Eugene S. Geissler, we have a con-tribution to sociology. The author, himself the father of ten, writes about the family from the father's point of view interestingly and seriously. The book is recommended ~eading for fathers and mothers of families both actual and prospective. Pp. 157. $2.95. FORDHAM UNIVERSITY PRESS, New York 58, New York. ; Spiritual and Intellectual Elements in the Formation of Sistei~s. Edited by Sister Ritamary, C.H.M. This is the second volume which has grown out of the six regional meetings of the Sister Formation Conference, 1955-56, The first volume bore the" title-The Mind of the Church in the Formation of Sisters and was reviewed in these pages in September, 1956 (pp. 273-74). Part I of the present volume deals with the viewpoin~ of keynote speakers and priest panelists 6n tl'ie spiritual and intellectual elements in the formationof sisters; Part II considers the viewpoint of religious sisters themselves; Part III summarizes replies and comments to questionnaires, while Part.IV deals with communications and commentaries. The reader is im-pressed by the energy and zeal with which the sisters themselves have 247 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religious attacked their problems¯ Such zeal and energy cannot but lead to a happy solution. Pp. 261. $3.00. GRAIL PUBLICATIONS, St. Meinrad, Indiana. Pope Pius XII and Theological Studies. Edited by A. Yzermans. In addition to the encyclical letter //umani Generis, there are five addresses of the reigning Holy Father and an introductory essay on "Pius XII and TheologiCal Novelty" by the editor. Pp. 100. $0.50. THE NEWMAN PRESS, Westminister, Maryland. Methods of Mental Prayer. By Cardinal Lercaro. Translated by T. F. Lindsay. As the title indicates, this book is concerned exclusively with methods of mental prayer. It presents all of the better-known methods and does so objectively. The important thing in mental prayer is, of course, prayer; the method is secondary, yet still important. For if a method does not help you to pray, that method is not for you. You should choose another. With the aid of this .book the choice of a different method becomes easy since so many are listed and described in detail. The book, however, is not recommended for indiscriminate reading by novices, who might easily become confused and overwhelmed by the wealth of material offered. It should prove very helpful to the mature religious and to priests. Pp. 308. $5.75. The Gospel to Every Creature. By Bishop Leon-Joseph Suenens. Translated by' Louise Gavan Duffy. Catholics admire the missionary spirit which sends individuals to the ends of the earth to save souls. Many of them, however, do not realize that they too must be mis-sionaries even though they cannot travel to fields afar;~ tha't they too must labor to bring others to their true home in the Catholic Church. You will find a complete discussion of the missionary vocation as it applies to every individual in the pages of this book. Pp. 163. $3.00. The Angels and Their Mission According to the Fathers of tl~e Church. By Jean Danielou, S.J. Translated by. David Heimann. Devotion to the angels is traditional for Catholics, and for the ma-jority a reality, at least so we hope. It would help if Catholics were reminded more frequently of the role angels play in their lives. They are not so reminded by the books in English that they read. I know oi: only one, and that one was published more than thirty years ago. So the present volume is surely timely and will help to fill a great need. Pp, 118. $2.75. 248 July, 1957 BOOK ANNOUI~CEMENTS Christ, Our Lady and the Church. A Study in Eirenic Theology. By Yves M-J. Congar, O.P. Translated by Henry St. John, O.P. Eirenic theology may be described as that branch of. theology which endeavors to bring back to the unity of one faith our Protestant neighbors. It does so by finding the common ground we share with them, ana!ysing the divergences, and pointing out errors and mis-placed emphasis wherever it may exist. Since the greatest divergence between our Protestant brethren and the Church concerns precisely the Catholic doctrine on the nature of the Church and the place of our Lady in it, this book deals with these topics. Pp. 103. $2.75. Problems in Theology. Vol. I. The Sacraments. By John McCarthy, D.D., D.C.L. This book is a compilation of material that appeared in the section "Notes and Queries" of The Irish Ecclesiastical Record during the past fifteen years. The author and publishers promise a second volume to deal with principles and precepts. There is no index. Pp. 433. $6.75. Problems in Canon Law. By William Conway, D.D., D.C.L. In this volume Father Conway, who has long answered the canonical difficulties of the readers of 7'he Irish Ecclesiastical Record, has col-lected and classified a great many of the practical problems he has received. The publishers announce that this is the first volume of a new series on practical problems in theology and canon law. There is an eight page index. Pp. 345. $5.50. REVIEWOF CATHOLIC CHURCH MUSIC The appearance of a new Catholic periodical is always noteworthy, especially of one devoted to music. The Caecilia appearing in Feb-ruary, 1957, is marked "Volume 85, Number 1"; 13ut it is the first issue of the venerable magazine under the new management of the Society of St. Caecilia, recently revitalized through the efforts of Reverend Francis Schmitt. Father Schmitt has achieved a noteworthy place in the ranks of American Catholic church musicians through his inspiring work with the Boystown choir, with his annual choirmasters' workshop, and now, with the restoration of the Caecilian Society. The "new" Caecilia appears as a quartqrly review devoted to the liturgical music apostolate. Besides editor Schmitt and "editor emeri-tus" Dom Ermin Vitry, O.S.B., the con.tr~butmg editors include: Theodore Marier, Reverend Richard Schule~, James Welch, Reverend Francis Brunner, C.Ss.R., Paul Koch, and R~verend Francis Guentner, S.J. Under such management the journal gives promise of outspoken but scholarly criticism as well as appreciation of current efforts in liturgical music. The address is: Box 1012, Omaha I, Nebraska. 249 Ques!:ions and Answers [The following answers are given by Father Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., professor of canon law. at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland.] --19-- What bows does the priest make at Benediction of the Moit Blessed Sacrament? The priest makes a moderate.bow of the body before rising to put in incense(S. R. C., 4179, 6) and at Veneremur cern'ui and a pro-found bow of the head immediately before and after incensing (S. R. C., 3086, 3) and at Oremus. A moderate bow of the body is a bow of the head accompanied by a slight inclination of the shoulders (S. R. C., 4179, 1). A profound bow of the body is never made while kneel-ing. Cf. J. O'Connell, Benedictionale, 4-5; The Celebration' of Ma~s, 298; De Amicis, Caeremoniale Parochorum, 79-80. 20 Has a religious who has been excluded from renovation of tem-porary vows or from making perpetual profession the right of sus-pensive recourse to the Holy See against the exclusion? No. The contrary impression arises from a confusion of exclia-sion with dismissal. The two are not the same. A dismissal in canon law is verified only by an expulsion during the time of the vows; an exclusion is an expulsion at the expiration of the vows. It is also merely the refusal of admission to a further profession. Therefore, the canonical prescriptions on dismissal do n

Issue 4.1 of the Review for Religious, 1945. ; 'Origin o{ Ref.reats forR61i9ious INUMBER 1 Review t:or. Religious Volume IV January'--DeCember, ,1945 Published at THE COLLEGE PRES~ Topeka, Kansas Edited THE JESUIT FATHERS SAINT MARY'S COLLEGE St.'lVlarys, Kansas Origin of Re!:rea~:s for Religious Augustine Klaas5 S.3. THE statement is sometimes made that retreats t~or reli-gious originated in the sixteenth century with 'Saint Ignatius of Loyola. Historical facts, however, do not sustain this assertion. It is true that, owing to the influence mainly of Saint ignatius, and later of Saints Francis de Sales, Charles Bor-romeo, Vincent de Paul, and others, retreats for all classes of socii~ty flourished far .and wide in thelatter part of the sixteenth and especially in the seventeenth century--so much so that the seventeenth century could justly be called "the century of retreats." It is, also'true, as Saint John Eudes, a zealous promoter of retreats, wrote specifically of religious in 1636, that a retreat is made "every year at least once in all religious communities in which piety and the love of God reign." Yet, if one examines the spiritual writers of the period as to the origin of these numerous retreats, he will find that almost unani,mously they ascribe it, not to their own times, but to a far earlier period. They ascribe it to the primitive ¯ Church, even to Jesus Christ Himself. It was Christ, they say, who inaugurated, retreats, particularly when He Him-self made a forty days' retreat in the desert before heginni.ng His public life. Retreatants.down ~the centuries have only imitated Him--the retreatant par excellence. What Histor~t 8a~s Already in the early third century we find Tertullian exhorting the persecuted and imprisoned Christiansl among whom there were many religiou.s,.to make their AUGUSTINE KLAAS 'imprisonment a time of retreat.~ The Lord Himself was very often in retreat, thit He might pray more freely.and withdraw from the world (Luke.4). Let us abolish the word prison: let. us call it a retreat" (Migne, PL 1:623.):. Saint Gregory Nazianzen notes a century later that Christ "did not,need a retreat," but He made it "that we might learn that there i~ a time for action and a time for more sub-lime employment" (PG 35:1238). ~The most striking example of imitating Christ's retreat ot~ forty days is that furnished by the monks of Palestine in the fifth century. During Lent-they were not s:itisfied to imitate merely the Savior's fast, but were determined to emulate also His stay in the desertmand that titeratl~t. The monk who inaugurated these annual Lenten , retreats for religious in the Holy Land was Saint Euthy-mius, who.died in 473 at. the age of ninety-five. An Armenian by birth, he came to Palestine at twenty-nine and established himself about six miles from Jerusale-m, near. the laura of Pharan, a group of separate, independent, monastic cells under a common superior. Each year, from the octave of the Epiphany to Palm Sunda.y, he retired 'to the desert, at first with one companion, Theoctistus, and later with his disciples, Sabbas, Elias, Martyrios, Domitian, and many others. The desert was the iddn'tical, desolate region by the. Dead Sea where our Lord had fasted,-prayed, and was tempted by Satan. Here the monks dispersed and, with .only. wild animals for- companionship, they spent their long retreat, fasting, doingstrenuous penance, soul-searching, and° communing with God. They called their retreat "a combat," and that is precisdly what it was. The length of the retreat varie~l. Thus, Saint Sabbas, thefutuie abbbt of all the hermit monks of Palestine, con- 1The. word i"religious" is applied to these early Christians, not in the technical sense o( canon law, but in a wider sense, namely as persons who had dedicated thegn-selves to God by taking private vows. 4 danuarg, 194 ~ , ORIGIN OF RETREATS tinued ithe practice of his spiritual master, Euthymius, though he almost died of heat and thirst during his first retreats. However, he changed the date of beginning from the fourteenth tO the twentieth of January, in order, he kells us candidly, that before his departure he might cele-brate at the laura the feastsof Saint Antony and of Saint Euthymius--no doubt, to brace himself for the ordeal ahead! The retreats usuaily ended on Palm Sunday., Monks in Retreat A vivid description of th~se Palestinian religious setting out' for their annual retreat is found in the Life of St. Mar~/ of Eg~Ipt (PG 87:3702-3), believed to h~ive been written by Saint Sophronius, patriarch of Jerusalem, . who died in 638: "On the first Sunday of Lent were celebrated pubiicly according to custom 'the holy mysteries, during which all the monks communicated of the unbloody arid life-giving sacrifice. Afterwards they took a little breakfast.Then they assembled in the church, recited some long prayers accompanied with many genuflexions, and lgave one another the kissof peace. Singly they prostrated themselves at the feet of the abbot, asked his pardon, for faults cdmmitted, and his' blessing, that they might, be assisted by his prayers during the imp.ending combat. "Now. the door of the monastery was thrdwn open, and they went forth chanting in unison: 'The Lord is my light and my salvation, wh6m shall I .fear? The Lordis the protector of my life: of. whom shall I be afraid? . . . ' (Psalm 26). One or two were ordinarily left behind to guard the monastery, not that they might protect what was stored up within,, for there was nothing for thieves td steal, but that the church might not be without divine services. "Each one saw to his own provisions as suited l'iimself: AuGUsTINE KLAAS ReVieo7 for Re!igious for :his bodily needs, one ;took along a little bread; another, some figs; a third, s6me dates; a fourth, vegetables soaked in water. Some took nothing along with them except their bodies and the mantles they wore, and when nature should clamor for food, they purposed to eat the herbs which grow in the desert. "Among them there existed an inviolable rule and law~ one was not to know what.austerity another practiced, nor what manner of life he led. "Having crossed over the 3.ordan, they scattered far and wide, seeking complete isolation, so that they would not ¯ even meet one another. If it happened that any one saw another approaching in the distance, he Would turn aside immediately and proceed in another direction. Each one lived for himself and for God, chanting the psalms inces-santly., and subsisting on the food he had with him. "After they had spent the days of Lent in this fashion, they came back to the monastery ota the Sunday-preceding the life-giving resurrection of our Savior from the de.ad. Each returned bearing the personal fruit of his retreat and the testimony of his own conscienc~ as to the manner in which he had conducted himself, and the fruits of labor he had harvested. "No one, however,-presumed to ask another how he had carried out his combat. Such was the rule of the mon-~ astery and it was observed perfectly. For in the desert, every monk fought against himself° with God as referee, not seeking to please men-nor fasting out of ostentation, because what is done for the sake Of men and from the desire to please them, far_from being a help, is often th~ ¯ cause of great personal ruin." Abbot Zozimus in Retreat Naturally we are curious to know more in d~tail how 6 ,~m~um,'tj, 1~)'$.,~ . ORIGIN OF RETREATS these religious spent their Lenten retreat in the desert wil-derness by the Dead Siva. Sophronius tells us how the Abbot Zozimus, presumably a model monk, spent his time of retreat (PG 87:3703).: "According to the custom of the monastery, Zozimus also drossed the Jordan atthe sametime, carrying a modi-cum of provisions' for necessary use, and only the garments he had. on. There, as the rule prescribed, he wandered through the desert. To satisfy nature's demands, he had a set time for taking food, and wherev.er night overtook him, he lay down on the ground to snatch a little sleep. In the morning, he girded himself again for travel and gaily trudged onwards, desiring, as he afterwards narrated, tO penetrate into the deep interior of the desert to find a cer-tain Father living there who might guide him to what he " aspired. And he walked fast, as though he were going to arrive soon at some famous hostelry.' Thus he spent. twenty days in travel. At the.sixth hour, he slowed his pace somewhat, and turning towards the east, he recited his customai'y prayers. At certain times during the day he was al~;o wont to interrupt the strain of walking by resting a little and praying and chanting psalms, now standing, now kneeling." These Lenten retreats are the most notable ,example of retreats for religious in ancient times. They were not a mere passing episode. They continued on for centuries, surviving even the bitter Arab persecutions which destroyed so many Palestinian monasteries and .decimated the monks. Gregory's Life of Saint Lazarus, an eleventh-century document, describes the desert retreats as still flourishing in that century. Outside of Palestine Retreat~ for religious were by no means confined to 7 AUGUSTINE KLA&S [or Religious Palestine. All over the East we find religious withdrawing to greater seclusion and to a more penitential life during Lent. The saintly monk, Macarius of Alexandria, who died about 393, used to remain the whole of Lent in the dark-ness of a windowless, cell (PG 34:1059 C). A certain monk of the desert of Scete, in Egy.pt, was astonished to discover that he could seek spiritual direction from the ven-erable Poemen during the second week of Lent. ~'I almost decided not to come to' .you today," said the monk. "Why?" asked Poemen. '.'I was. afraid that because of Lent you wouldn't open the door to me." "We have not been taught to close the. wooden ~loor," replied the old man, "but the door-of the tongue" (PG 65:336): Saint Hypatius, the most influential monk in Constantinople at-the beginning of the fifth century, made his annual Lenten retreat. And Saint Theodore of Sice, a very famous sixth-century monk of Galatia, later a bishop, began the custom of making an annual retreat in his home at the age ,of twelve, and kept it up throughout his life. From Epiph-any to Palm Sunday, he used to retire to a cave, or an aban-doned, uncomfortable hut without a roof, there to pray and do penance. ¯ These are by no means exceptional, isolated cases: they are illustrative of a custom, widespread among religious throughout the East. And in the West The practice is also found in the Western Church:. Dynamius, in his life of Abbot.Saint Marius, says that the Lenten retreat was common among the religious in Gaul in the sixth century. Saint Radegunde, roundness and abbess of the famous convent of the Holy Cioss at Poitiers, is a notable~example.,,. Among the nuns~of the eighth Century January, 194.s. ORIGIN OF RETREATS we may cite Saint Sigolena,.Abbess of Troclar. " E~ample. after example can be.adduced to sh.ow that. religious, both. men and women, in Italy, France, Brittany, the German Rhineland, England, and Ireland, spent the time of Lent in ¯ the silence and recollection of retreat. Let us conclude the list with Saint Bernard,. Who would not leave his monas-tery to meet his good ~riend William of Saint-Tbierry, nor even to refute the false doctrines of Abelard, that he might not disturb the prayer and solitude of the Lenten retreat , (P.I2. 182:533). For the same reason he wrote shorter let-ters during Lent! Purpose of the Retreats The purpose of these retreats was substantially that of our own retreats: the' "noverim te, noverim me" of Saint Augustinema deeper knowledge of God'~nd of self. It was a time of greater seclusion, of more fervent prayer, of more intense spiritual life and¯activity. It was alooking back over the achievements and fhilures of the past year, and a looking forward with resolutions to a better year to come. In the tenth century, John Tsimitzes addressed, the monks of Mount ~thos in Greece as follow.~: "We exhort all those who practise the ascetical life in monasteries, all those who live in community, to spend the time¯of Lent in recollection, and not to deal with each other except about important~business, or when there is necessity, or on mat-ters of conscience. Let no one go out to work, except on Saturdays, and let all be occupied solely in spiritual things." ¯ Echoing Saint Augustine, Bishop Caesarius of Arlesl one of the most illustrious monks of the early sixth cen-tury, states the general purpose of these Lenten retreats very clearly (PL 39:2019-21): "Although throughout the year, thanks be to God, we llstened often and faith- AUGUSTINE KLAAS ~ ¯ Review) for .Religions fully to the word of God, nevertheless during these days, When we have retired from the. ocean storms of this world -as to the haven of Lent, we must gather the divine word in the receptacle bf. our hearts amid silence andpeace. And this we must do, in order that, occupied with eternal life, we may with the grace of God during these days repair leisurely and put in order all that has been broken, destroyed, damaged, or" lost in the ship of our souls by the year's storms, that is, by the tempests of our sins." Then, Changing the figure, he likens Lent to a time of spiritual harvest, a time .when, by fasting, ~by reading, and by praying, we .make provision for the future, and store up what the soul will live on for the following year. In a word, it is the opportune season to fill the spiritual barns and cellars of the soul. Other Retreats Too ¯ Bdsides these long Lenten retreats for religious, "so prominent in ancient Palestine, but also in vogue through-out the Eastern .and Western Church, there were other retreats in use, of varying .lengthmthree,.seven, or nine days: Notable in the monasteries were those following the religious profession, especially among the Benedictines and Carthusians. Retreats were not confined to religious alone: Including the Lenten one, they weri~ made in surprising numbers by bishops, diocesan priests, and even layfolk from the earliest times, the purpose being always the same, renewal of spirit and imitation of Christ. However, as we leave 'the Middle Ages and approach the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries there is a marked.decline in the making of retreats. May not that neglect have been one reason why the reJigious spirit of so many monasteries and convents was. at a 1.ow ebb on the eve of. the Reformation? danUarF, 1945 ORIGIN OF RETREATS Conclusion: Work of Ignatius It is c~rtain, then, that religious made retreats, quite like our own in purpose, long before the time of Saint Ignatius of Loyola. ~The work Of Ignatius lay mainly in injecting a new life into this pot.ent spiritual means to per-fektion that had come to be neglected in religious houses arid else.where, and in popularizing the making of retreats among all classes of soci.ety. This was noted by Saint Francis de Sales, who, in his Treatise on tb~ Looe of God (Lesson 12, chapter 8), lauds th~ retreat as "that holy de~-i~e, familiar to the primitive Christians, but since almost completely abandoned, until the great servant of God, Ignatius of Loyolal restored it to use in the .time of our Fathers." Arid Father Julius Nigronius, S.J., a 17th cen-tury authorit~ on the. history of retreats, cites with apprbval the judgment of his confrere Father John Lori-nus: "If Saint Ignatius is.not the originator, he is at least the restorer .of the spiritual retreat." This he accomplished, and it is his chief merit, by reducing the retreat to a definite method. Surely the spir-itual ideas, doctrines, and practices 0f the Spiritual Exer-cises are not original; they are for.the most part the com-mon traditional Ones of the Church. But the grouping and marshalling 6f them in logical sequence fo~ a clear-Jut and the striking psychological presentation of them,, this was something the old retreats had lacked. And this was supplied by Ignatius in masterly .fashion. He was not alone in. this work, but his is .the most important c0ntribu.- tion to the renascent retreat movement which grew so vig-orously during the sixteenth and seventeen'th centuries. This "second spring" Of retreats has flowered~ and prodt~ced ¯ a fruitful, harvest .that'still goes on increasing from year toi year, to the immense spiritual benefit of religious and of the whole Church of God. 11 AUGUSTINH As Plus XI so aptly remarks in the Encyclical Mens Nostra: "Ignatius, in the lit.tie book he compiled when he was still without literary education, and to which he him-self gave the title of Spiritual Exercises, was the first to trace a path, the first to teach a method of retreat, suitable ~o help marvellously the faithful to detest their sins and to model. holily their lives according to the exampl~ of 3esus Christ. . The power of the Ignatian method,a's Leo XIII affirmed, has been shown by .the experience of three cen-turies, and by the testimony of all who', during that time, have distinguished themselves by. their science of asceticism and sanctity of life. ~' Thus Ignatius of Loyola merits the title bestowed upon him by Plus XI: Patron of Retreats in the Universal Church. " " For Deans of Summer Sessions At about this time many religious throughout the country are beginning to con-sider their summer school programs. For some. of course, there is no difficulty. b~cause their own institutes provid.e the educational facilities. Others, however, must go to outside schools. It has occurred to us that superiors who must send their subjects-to outside schools might benefit by a summer session directory in our March and May numbers. We will gladly pro.vide this service if the deans will send us the requisite information. We cannot afford much space; hence we ask the deans to sen~l us only a very brief statement comprizing the following points: a) Name of school. ' b) Courses ~hat are of. special interest or value to religious. (Evidently we can-not print a complete statement of all courses offered at the summer sessions, We wish to know only about thbse things that have a particular interest or value for reli-gious.) c) Accommodations for religious who attend the summer school. d) Where to write for.further information. Deans who wish to have their announcement appear in the March number should send us the information immediately. Address: The Editors of 'REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, St.Mary's College,, St. Marys, Kati.sas. 12 General Councillors ot: a Religious Inst:i!:ul:e Adam C. Ellis, S.J. [T HAS ALWAYS beenapart of the polityof the Church . to provide that those who are given authority to govern in the name of the Church should have the benefit of the experience and wisdom.of prudent men. The glory of God, the welfare of the Church, and the good of souls,, are immeasurably, promoted by the prudent counsel of good men. Thus the Sovereign Pontiff has his Senate of Car-dinals; Bishops have their Chapter of Canons or board of Diocesan Consultors; Rectors of Seminaries have a two-fold council, one for discipline, the other for the adminis-tration of property. We are not surprised, therefore, but rather expect to find that the law of the Church shou.ld pro-vide some sort of council for religious superiors. It does,so in canon 516, § 1 of the Code of Canon Law, which reads as follows: The superior general of, every institute or monastic congregation, also every provincial superior, and local superior .at least of every fdrmal house, shall have their.councillors, Whose consent, or counsel they must seel( according to the terms of the constitutions and the sacred ca, n6ns. Appointment The Code does riot determine how the general councit-lors are to be appointed. ¯ Hence the constitutions or cus-toms of each institute will have to be Consulted. Usually ~h, ey are elected by ~he general.chapter in conformity with the nbrms laid down in canon 101,' § 1, 1 °, of the Code of Canofi L~w. These norms require an a~bsolute rnajorii~ for an ~lection 0fi the first .or Second ballot: that is, more than bali the vhlid votes cast. Thu~ 8 would constitutd a ADAM C. ELLIS Review for Religious majority when 15 votes are cast. If no majority is obtained oh the first or second ballot, a third and final ballot is taken in. which a relative majorit~l (plurality) will suffice for an election: that is, the person receivin.g the most votes of all the candidates will be elected, even though the i~umber of~ votes he receives does not constitute an absolute majority, or more than half the votes cast. In case two or more persons are tied for the .relative majority on the third ballot, the senior by reason of ordina-tion, of first profession, or of age, is 'considered to be elected. In clerical institutes ordination will determine the senior-ity: in non-clerical institutes the date of first profession, and, in case the persons concerned made their profession on the same day, the senior by reason of age will be considered as ~lected. The first person to be elected councillor is commonly also tl~e assistant or vicar of the superior general, and takes the place of the latter when he is absent or impeded from the exercise of his office. It is also usual to allow any one of the other councillors, but not the first, to hold the office of secretary general. Term of Ot~fce When gendral councillors are electei:l to office in a gen-. eral chapter, they rema'in in office until the nextgeneral chapter of ~lections takes place. Usuall~r their term "of Office coincides with that of the superior general to whose council they have been elected. However, should the superior general .resign,. or die during his term of office, .the assistant or vicarr (first councillor) will take the place of the superio~ general and convoke a general chapter of elec-tions. All the councillors continue in office until this gen-eral c.hapter convenes to elect a.new superior ge.n.eral. After his election the general chapter will proceedto, the. election danuarg, 194 ~ GENERAL COUNCILLORS of his general councill~rs.~ The general law of the Church places no restrictions on the repeated election of the same persons as general coun-cillors. Sometimes the constitutions of individual insti-tutes limit their cap.acity to.two or three successive t~rms of office. ~ General councillors may. not be removed fromoffice except for a grave cause, and.most constitutions require the deliberative vote of the council; as Well a's the subsequent approval of the Holy See, for such a course of action. Duties ot: General Councillom General councillors enjoy no authority merely by rea-son of their, office. They are not commissioned witfi the government of the institute; but it is their special and prin-cipal duty to give advice and aid to the superior general in the government and administration of the entire ~institute. They have the right and the duty to give a deliberative or consultative vote in matters to be submitted to them as pre-scribed by carion law or by the constitutions. Each may likewise suggest to the superior general that certain matters which he judges important and for the good of the insti-tute be submitted to the general 'council for discussion. ¯ Superiors are not limited in seeking the advice of their council to the cases in which the Code of Canon Law or the constitutions require them to do so. They may and should consult their council on all matters of great moment. The Normae of 1901 required that the general coun-cillors reside with the superior general, though they allowed .two of them to reside elsewhere, provided that they could easily be present at council meetings when needed (Art. 276). Furthermore, councillors were forbidden to hold any office whidb might impede their principal duty of 15 ADAM C. ELLIS Revi~to for Religious assisting the superior general ~ith advice and co~unsel (Art. 279) ; specifically, they were prohibited from holding the office of bursar or treasurer general (Art. 284), as well as that Of master of novices¯ (.Art. 300). These provisions are found today in most c6nstitutions of congregations approved by the Hoy See, although they are not contained _in, the Code. A councillor, though not enjoying any authority by reason of his office, may be given a share in the authority of the superior general in certain matters if the constitu-tions do not prohibit it. Or he may be given another office which carries ~authority with it, such as that of local superior. Council Meetings The Code does .not determine when or how often the superior must call meetings of his council. Constitutions usually prescribe that the general council meet once a month, and oftener whenneed shall require. ¯ ' Ir~ council' meetings it is customary for the superior gen~ eral to propose a subject for consideration and, after having given whatever information is required for a proper under-standing of it, to ask the opinion.of the councillors. It is advisable (and sometimes required by the cons~titutions) to ask the youngest councillor first, then the others in order,,and to have the superio.r general give his opinion last, so as not to influence the councillors by any undue regard for the opinion of their elders. After a reasonable time has been devoted to discussing the subject under consideration, a vote is taken. This vote may be eil~he~ delibe.rative or consultative, oral or secret. Deliberative vote: In certain matters the Code of Canon Law or the constitutions require the consent of his council before the superior canact validly. A vote taken in 16 January, 194 ~ GENERAL COUNCILLOR~; such cases is called a deliberative or decisive vote, .in contra-distinction to a merel~; consul~ative vote. The vote of the. council decides the matter, and the superior must follow the majority vote of his council in order to act validly. Here a?etbe canons of the Code in which a deliberative vote of the council is required: 5116, '§ 4: for the appointment Of bursars or treasurers, when "the constituti6ns make no provision for their appointment; 534, § 1 :. for the" alienation of property, and for the contracting of debts, even though the permission of the H~ly See is not required; .575, §. 2: for the admission poral profession of vows;' 647, 650, and 653: for hlI of a novice to first tern-cases of dismissal of reli-gious, whether they have temporary or perpetual vows. Furthermore, in loractice, the Sacred Congregation. of Religious demands the consen.t of the general' council for all matters requiring, the permission of the Holy See. Consultative vote: The vote of ~he chapter is s~'id to be only consultative when the superior is obliged indeed by the law of the. Church or by the constitutions to ask the advice of his council, but can. act validly even if he does not follow the advice given. Canon 105, however, admon-ishes superiors. "to make mu~h of the unanimgus opinion of those to be heard, and not to-depart, from it Without a weightier reason, of which~.they are the judge," Thus; canon 543~ requires at. least a consultative vote of the council for the' admission of candidates to the novb tiate;, as well as~ for professi.dn in general, subject Co the restrictions of canon 5.75, § 2,. which states: explicitly that the vote of the c6uncil is d~liberative for the first temporar~l profession of vows~ but only consultative for the subse- ADAM C. ELLIS Rm.tiew for~ Re~igio-~ quent perpetu.al profession, whether of simple or solem~i vows. . It may be well. to consider .here just how far the, lcon-stitutions. may require more in this matter than is required by the law of. the Church. These general rules may.help" to answer the question: ' 1. Evidently the constitutions may contain prov.isions regarding matters not determined b~ or contained in the Code, for example, the number of'consultors. ,Such a pro, vision-is said to be outside (or beyond) the law (praeter. 2. The constitutions may not contain prov.isions conz trary to the Code (contra ius), for example,, they may not exempt the superior from asking the vote Of his council wher~ the Code requires it; nor may they allow less than the Code dem~ni:ls (infra ius) ". for instance, they may no( pre-scfibe. ohlya con~ultative ~rote when thd Code reciuir.esa deliberative vote. '3. The constitutions may be stricter than the Code (supra ius), provided they are~notcontrary to it. Thus canon 543 requires thevote of the council or chapter for admission to the novitiate, as Well as for the subsequent profession of vows. The constitutions may require that the vote Of the council or chapter be deliberative for the admission of.candidates to the novitiate. However, .canon 575, § 2 defines the nature of the vote of the council or chapter "in two case~: for the/irst profession of temp0raiy vows, the vote is d~liberative;for the profession of per-petual vows, whether si,rnple or solemn, the vote is.con-sultative only. Hence the constitutions may not require that the vote .of the council or chapter be deliberative for. the final profession. That would be not only stricter than the Code, but contrary to it. All provisions of consti-tutions which are contrary to the Code.wdre abrogated January, 1945 GENERAL COU~,'C/LLORS by the Code itself (canon 489), and a special privilege would have to be obtained from the Holy See in order to ¯ " retain thefn. Again, in" some 'institutes tempbrary vows ari~ taken, not for a p~riod of three years, but for one year onlY, to be renewdd for a year on two successive occasions. The Code requires the deliberative vote of the council for the first pro-fesSilala of such temp6rary vows, but says rlo~hing about the nature of th~ vole for the anntfal renewal'of ~uch t~mpo-rary vowg Hence th~ cons~itdtions may detb~ine' ~hether thisv6te is deliberative or m~rely consultative. O'Orat or secret vote: Ordinary matters in which the ad~ic~ of tile~ coBncd is sought by '~he ~up~rior general are &scussea o~ally and op~mons are'expies~d verbally. Even ~ntfie cbnse~ 0f ihb c~b~ncil is requiie~ by law, it ii ~ot "~ e.~.a.dded t~"t a' s~cr~t ~ be taken, ~xc~pt in th~ case of cbntracfing Aebtl or aiienhtin.g property -(canbn ~34, ~. 1 ), -and in all card 6f ~diimislal 0f.rdigib6s With temporary ~ows (khfion~ ~47, ~ "1) Constithtions frequently' call f~r a secret vote i~other matters, a~ ifi the appointment of ocal superiors, and at t~me~ giye the ~guhcillors the right-to ~demand a ~ecret Vbte in any important matter. " ~The ~e~retar~ "oeneral is present at all council heetings, without vote; ~howe~r, unlem he be a councill~r. It is his-duty to re~drd th~ 8eliberations ~nd decisions arrived ht, be "iehd and appr6ved ~at ~he follbwing meeting' and si~ned b~the suPeiidr.and~e ~ecre'tdry. ' Spir~'t of Consultation All Oarsons whose cons~n~ or advi~o is askad, should s~a~a *hair opln-ion w,~h dun raspa~L ~ru~ulnass. and s,n~r,~ {canon 105. ~o}. 'T6~'~ ~hoh'td s?~ fbeir okibio~: .that is, they must. g~ve an opm~o~ tor or against me measure id question when their~onsem is'req~iredb~, the law or thee constitu- ADAM C. ELLIS Review [or Religious tions for the. validity of the superior's act; they may decline to give an o~pinion if they have nothing worth while to con-tribute to the discussion when the superior is only obliged° to hear his council, that is, to listen to and consider their ¯ advice. ' Councillors should always remember that they are but advisors of their superior, to whom reverence is due. When they find it necessary to e~press an opinion 'contrary to that of their Superior, 'it should, be given with all due respect, without acrimony, in simp~le but dignified language. Trutht:uli~ess means not merely the avoidance ofall that is false, but especially the positive disclosure of facts and cir-cumstances that are relevant to the matter under discussion. Sincerity implies a candid and genuine expression of opin-ion, and excludes ali dissimulation or pretence, even though motivated by a desire not to displease the superior. ¯ On his part the superior who is obliged by the law of the Church or by the constitutions to seek the advice or to qbtain the consent of his council should do so willingly and even eagerly, since it is for his benefit as well as for the com-mon good that th'e Church has established its system of councillors for all those who exercise authority in her name. To try to influence his councillors in such a way as to impose his opinion upon them, Or to give them the impres-sion that he considers the council meeting a mere formality, would show~ that the superior does not ,understand the spirit of the law. Provincial Councillors What has been said regarding general councillors may and should be applied to provincial councillors within the scope of their activity.as defined by the constitutions. They" are usually appointed by the superior general and his coun'cil, but in some institutes they are elected in a pro- 20 Janu'ary, 19#5 j GENERAL COUNCILLOR8 vincial chapter. Their ~umber is usually four, and the con-stirutions determine how often they meet, as well as the nature of their vote. Matters usually referred to the prrvincial douncil by .~he constitutions include the following: admission of can-didates to the novitiate; admission of novices to first vows; dismissal of novices; admission to perpetual vows; aliena-tion of property and the incurring of debts bY the province or by the houses of the province; investment of dowries; all matters which must-,be rei~erred to the Holy See for permis-sion or approval. Local .Councillors Canon 5.16, § l.requires them at lea'st foc .formal houses, those, namely, which have at least six professed religious in the community, four of whom must be priests in the case of a clerical institute (canon 488, 5°). The "'at least" of the. canon implies that they are desirable ialso in a smaller d0mmunity, but are not strictly of obligation. Usually they number four in larger communities,.and not less than two in smaller ones. They are appointed by the superior general and his council, or by the provincial supe-rior and his council in institutes which are divided into provinces. The matters in which their counsel or consent must be bad by the local superior are defined by the con-stitutions. OUR C~ONTRIBUTORS AUGUSTINE KLAAS, ADAM C. ELLIS, and GERALD KELLY are pr.ofessors of sacramental thdology, canon law, and moral theology, respectively, at St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. ROBERT B. EITEN, of the University of Detroit, is an ~siduous writer bn ascetical subjects. FRANCIS L. FILA~, of West Baden Col-lege, West Baden Springs, India.ha, is the author of The Man Nearest to Christ. recently published by Bruce. JAMES A. KLEISTI Of St. Louis University. is the author of The Great Prayer Now in Time of War, published by The Queen's Work. 21 Towards $implit:ied At:l:ect:ive Prayer Robert B. Eiten~ S~J. THE purpose of the prdsent article is to offer some sug-gestions for disposing a soul to reach simplified affec-tive prayer or to grow in such prayer, if one has already attained it. Of course, not all these suggestions can be used by everyone. The important thing is that every-one who desires to advance in prayer will fdllow those sug-gestions that help him and then set about to prag, and prag, afld prag some mode. Only thus does one normally advance inprayer. The realization of God's presence is perhaps the first step toWaids successful prayer. Of course, we know by faith that Godis present everywhere in and about us and that, when we are in the state of grace, He dwells within us as in His temple; yet, unless we have received mystical graces, we m~ist frequently recall, this mar~rellous presence and try as far as possible t0 get a habitual realization of i~. Otherwise while at prayer we may fail to realize sufficiently His.presence. We do not see God, we do nottouch Him. All these pleasant experiences connected with our sense life are not ours in addressing God. Yet by faith we know that He is most near. Our faculties bf prayer, the imagination, memory, intellect, and will, have their natural-objects towards which they have a natural affinity and in which they find pleasure when they are exercised. It is hard to pull these faculties away from . natural objects. Much self-control and self-denial are required to withdraw them from ~hings_naturally pleasing to.them and tS direct them to that (the Divine) 22 SIMPLIFIED AFFECTIvE PRAYER towards which they have little or no natural attrac~jon or ~spontaneity in the beginning. When we speak to God in prayer we cannot see Him and it is no easy task to hear His whispered inspirations. But we must try to realize His presence. This c.ertainly is possibl~. I can be most awareof another person's presence in the dark even though I do not hear him.speak, nor see him nor even hear any movements of his, nor touch him. It is sufficient that some trustworthy person tell me of the presence of this third person. ¯ It is not strange, then, that a great saint insisted that at the beginning of our mental prayer we should recall God's presence. Much of our success and progress .in men-tal prayer will largely depend upon our growing realiza-tion of God's presence. If we fail to make God, our loving Father, vivid and rightat hand With us, our prayer will most likely be i;trai.ned; andlack a' familiar touch and spon-taneity. Mucfi care, thought, and ~oncentration should be devoted to developing within ourselves ~the realization of the Blessed .Trinity's indwelling. Briefly, our psychologi-cal dispositions toward God must bemade so realistic that" we act almob;t as if we saw Him, touched Him, and so forth. Then prayer will b~ easier and carried on with grbater relish. ' It will ordinarily take a l'ong time to arrive at the point where we instinctively, as it were, live in God's presence. And here I am not referring to the presence bf God as felt through inystical graces. Perhaps one of the best,ways to arrive at this state is to medi~ate fiequently on the in~lwel!- 0ing of the Blessed Trinity and to direct all our ejacula.tions ,to that indwelling Guest. Long, careful, and repeated striving,and prac'tice will'bear fruit. What a'grace it would bd if We could e~perience habitually all day long the reality. arid consciousness of. G0d's indwelling .as we experience ROBERT B.' EITEN ," " ,, " . Review for Religious His presence when we are before the tabernacle in church! Many who have been sacristrans or who have had occasion to.work inside a church *certainly have had this practically const:~nt and subconscious awareness of God's pre~efice. It resembles the awareness which a child, although much. occupied in playing with-his toys, has of his mother, who is perhaps busy in the next room of the home. Our realization of Christ's presence in the tabernacle b~gan in early~childho0d, our mothers cons(antly hushed us when we~babbled out in church. Then they ~pointed to ~he l~abernacle, and. tried, to tell.us most simply who was there. ~ With other training in this matter,, we gradually formed a sort of instinct or conditioned reflex whereby we .came to.~,an active and spontaneous realization of God:s ¯ presef~ce whenever we were in church. : ."' Heart-to-heart chatting with our indwelling Guest will help.not a little to obtain this rather spontaneous aware-' r~ess and living experience of His presence. This will bring 'us to St. Teresa's ;onception of mental prayer, which she says, "is nothin.~ else but an intimate friendship, a frequent ,converse, heart to heart, with Him Whom ~e know to be our Lover." Again, how we experience God's presence after Holy Communion! . We are very self-conscious of the necessity of being by ourselves, alone and recollected. Why cannot good habits directing our t.houghts and affections to the indwelling Trinity bring similar rgsults? True, this is not usually a. work of a few weeks or months, and ordinarily much patience, calm, and protracted effort is required. A soul that has reached this active rea!ization Of God's presence will 'instinctively :upon waking in the morning turn its first thoughts to God. Outside of formal rspiritual exercises such a. soul, while walking or unoccupied with other mental work, is rather instinctively taken, up with January, 1945 SIMPLIFIED AFFECTIVE PRAYER God's sweet presence. This soul too is alway~ seeking times and opportunities for spiritual reading, and visits to the Blessed Sacrament. Even during the various duties of the day such a soul is very frequently aware of God's abiding presence. Obviously such a soul'during formal mental prayer is quite, taken up with God since its every impulse, even outside of prayer, is towards a continuous and affectionate abiding with God. At praye~ we should not be afraid to interrupt our part, of prayer to listen quietly to God. We must permit God to have His parr in our chat with Him. He will do His part by His silent inspirations. We must get into the habit of making these attentive pauses. For beginners they should be short. Later on it will be easier to lengthen th'em either because of habits acquired here or because of an. attraction . for recollection. ~At any rate, let us rest in them as long as we find profit. In the beginning, if we: experience little or no results, we should not become wearied or distrustful. Patience will win out and have its day. of harvest. In any case these pauses are not.a waste of time. At least, they are made with a good intention, and this makes them pleasing to God. Moreover, to summarize de Caussade, they imply many Other good acts. For example,, they include an act of faith in the presence, the power, and the mercy of God, and an act of hope, for we await only that which we' hope for. The pauses further imply contempt of ourselves and great con-. fidence in God, since during these pauses, we suspend our own mental acts only because we count very little on our own and very much on God's. Finally they imply deep .humility, as well as resignation and surrender, since We" remain before God in silence either to be heard or'refused and in .spite of all the distractions, tedium, and weariness which make these attentive pauses at times wearisome,, ROBERT 15. EITEN ¯ Review for Religious tedious,¯ and distressing. (See de Caussade, On Pra~ter. pp. 210-211.) Some persons think erroneously that their prayer is of little worth unless the)~ are in a.continual interior activity or movement, piling reflection on reflection; prayer .on prayer, act on act. It Would be well for these people to realize that the more important part of prayer is rather the attention of the heart. Let us learn, then, to rest in God in silence, pe.ace, and attention, especially when He seems to invite us to this holy repose of soul. This, may happen Outside our formal .prayer, as during Mass, spiritual reading, and .so forth. Always bear in mind that this is a favorable moment, not for talking to God, but rather for listening to Him, not for .acting as.we ordinarily do, but rather for simply abiding in God's presence and being, receptive to all He. works in us. Let us try then to.enjoy His presence as a mother will qui-etly and.in silence at times enjoy the presence of her soldier- :~.on, who, after being a long time away, has now returned home. To sit merely in his presence is a real thrill for her. Would anyone be so rash as tO deny that this mother, although silent externally, is without any mental or affec: rive activity? .What maternal love is active in her heart! Although she doesnot reflect that she,is loving him, never-theless that love is there in a.sublime way. She loves him without saying anything. And if her 'son saw her heart, what actual tenderness he would find there, what depths of deliberat~ and freely accepted, although r~on-reflective, emo-tions he would see! Thus, in'this apparent idleness there is a height.of activity. This same height of activity can be present if, imitating this mother, .we quietly rest and enjoy God's presence. Another helpful means for progress in prayer is to repeat slowly, affectionately, and wi~h relish some aspira- 26 January, 1945. SIMPLIFIED AFF:ECTiVE PRAYER tion, be it one's own or another's, or some Scripture text, over some period of time. While this is being done we ought to ponder over it carefully, as well as sense and relish it in its complete significance. It is related of .St. Francis of Assisi that he spent an entire night in prayer uttering very slowly, but with great devotion and relish, the following ~ublime words: "My God and my All!" It is easy to see how this prac.tice can.be a beginning, 6r at least an approach, to the prayer of simplicity; for, ~Ithough there may .be various affections occurring, .there is one predominant one whose object is, as it were, a t~xed' idea about which our other ideas and affections are pivoted. This seems t6 be little more than an extension of St. Igna-tius' second method of prayer. Or even better, it is in some respects a combination of, or a variation between, St. I.gna-tiusr second and third methods of prayer. In his second method of prayer St. Ignatius-recommends that we leisurely meditate on the Our Father, or any other prayer, by dwelling on it word by ~word as long as we find meanin.gs, comparisons, relish and consolation in such con-siderations; while in his third methodof prayer he suggests that we,recite the Our Father, or any other prayer, in such a way that by properly synchronized rhythm only one word is said between one breath and another, and while the tim~ fromone breath to another l~ists, [one gives atten-tion] to the meaning of such word, or to the persgn .to whom he recites it, or to his own baseness, or to the 'differ-ence from such great height to his own so great l~wn'ess. Of course this rhythmic interchange between word and affectionate thought must not be taken too lit~rally or mathematically. It is {mportant for anyone aiming at high sanctity and progressive prayer to have recourse to God in all difficulties, joys, and so forth,'by informal ejacfilatory prayer. (See 27. ROBERT B. EITEN- Reoietu for Religious" gEVIEW r~0g RELIG~OUS, Sept. 1943, p. 305.) This can be reduced to an attitude resulting from the habit of talking, famiiia.rly with God as with anyone who is constantly around us. He becomes our constant ~;ade mecura. Why . not act on this principl~ .by familiarly talking with Him frequently as we would with a friend who never left our side? In this practice one must, of.course, avoid brain-fag. This latter can be largely obviated if, rather than trying to imagine too vividl~r God's presence, we simply take it for granted. This obviously is notthe work of a day; but "when. acquired, it will immeasurably help our prayer-life. Our progress in prayer is also helped by repeating the same meditations several times. After several reflections we find that the intellectual part ,0f our prayer has been con-siderably. diminished while the affective part ~has consider~ ably'increased. It can in many cases end in an affectionate, loving, and protracted gaze upon God or some divine mys-tery that would be simplified affective prayer. In gen.eral, it is well, after we have been accustomed for some time to mental prayer, to lessen gradually the discur-sive .element. Though it is profitable, while meditating on the mys.teries of Christ's life, to reason and weigh various facts, motives, and so forth, yet, other things being equal, we should not weary, ourselves too much b.y .trying to fatfiom these divers points. Let us rather remain in peace near our Lord. "The soul should then be occupied according to her ability in reflecting that He is.loo.king at her: she will keep Him company and will address her petitions to Him" (St. Teresa, Life., ch. 12). We ought to endeavor gradu-ally to lessen our considerations both in length and number, and accustom ourselves "to go through the mysteries of our Lord by merely glancing at them, rather than by meditating upon tbem;~ and to make use of their different circumstances 28 danuary, 1945 SIMPLIFIED AFFECTIVE PRAYER to excite in our soul acts of love, gratitude, humility, or similar affections" (Lehodey, The Wa~ts of Mental Pra~/er, p. 187). In.this way.our prayer will g.radually become a ¯ simple loving gaze at God or divine things. No 10nger,will ~the soul be seeking for truth as in meditation, for, now pos-sessing it, the soul rests in it with love. It looks and it loves--that is the sou1~s chief preoccupation. Grasping things now by intuition and immediately rather than by the long, toilsome, and roundabout 'ways of the~ imagination; the memory and the understanding, the soul perceives thd things of God almost as we perceive first principles. " "We remember, we look, we attend, and this is enougl'i. This does not hinder this view from being sometimes more luminous, sometimes weaker and more veiled. By i~s very nat.ure it is somewhat obscure and confused, because it pro.- ceeds mostly by way of general views, not stopping at details, pretty much as we take in at a single glance a whole landscape. "This simple look is always accompanied with love-- a love, it may be, almbst imperceptible or all on fire, calm or impetuous, bitter or savoury . . . We look because we love, we 10ok inorder to love, and our love is fed and inflamed by looking" (Lehodey, The Wa~/s of Mental Pra~ter, p. 193). Both our looking and. loving mutually help each other. In the beginning of the spiritual life we reason and meditate. But after we .have grasped our Lord's beautiful character we sit at His feet with Mary Magdalene tO look at Him that we may love Him. more, and our love in turn makes us want never to ~take our eyes from Him. "He is all mine and I am all His." ¯ .It is often helpful after preparing our prayer to go -before the Blessed Sacrament' (it can be done elsewhere too) and let our Lord speak to us on the matter prepared. Ask 29 ROBERT B.' EITEN Him to develop the ~ubject for us. Ask Him to let us know His mind on the subject. It is really surprising how many new angles and lights He sometimes suggests. It is,. besides, a very reposeful prayer, to say nothing of its being very simple and affective. Balthasar Alvarez, who directed St. Teresa and who, according to the latter, was more advanced in prayer than" she, thus describes what we have been trying to say: "To p~ay is to raise our heart to God; to communicate with Him familiarly, though with great respect, regarding ail our affairs; to confide in Him more than a child confidesin h;s mother, however good she may be; to offer Him all that we possess, all that we hope for, without any reserve; to open our heart to Him, and pour it out, as it were, before Him: to speak to Him of our labours, of Our sins, of our desires, our projects, and all that occupies our mind; finally, to seek in Him our consolation and our repose, as one friend with another, in whom he has full confidence" (Life of Ft. Bal-tbazar Alvarez, vol. 1, p. 175). The burden of this entire article has been to show ways and means of quickly disposing, ourselves" to reach simpli-fied affective prayer as well as to grow in it. Still, we must be on our guard against outrunning grace With the result " that we are like a boy in a class .beyond his intellectual years. We must avoid either extreme, the tendency to go too slowly and the impulse to jump too fast from ordinary meditation tO affective prayer: or from affective prayer to simplified affective prayer. A. Good Book for March For reading daring the month of March, we s~ggest The Man Nearest to Christ, by F. L. Filas, S.J.' It provides interesting and valuable material on St. doseph. Published by Bruce, Milwaukee. Price: $2.50. Some Th6ugh! s on t:he I-Ioly Family. Francis L.Filas, S.3. OWING to limitations of space meditation manuals usually present only tWO or three points for medita-tion on the hidden life of the Holy Family and do not enter on the. subject at greater length. Yet since the richness and utility of this meditation call for more ~letailed treatment, we shall bring together in this article the ideas ordinarily proposed and at the same time shall endeavor to .suggest several new avenues of thought. Above all else, meditation on the Holy Family finds its u~efulness in its direct, many-sided application to the reli-gious life. The religious life is essentially a hidden and obscure life, in which the interior efforts God alone sees (and not necessarily outward results) are the hallmark of success. It has its long periods of difficult preparation such as the postulancy, the novitiate, and years of Study--years tbat,:may appear utterly useless at the moment. At certain times temptations to discouragement arise because of a lack of tangib!e results. For the inspiration to adyance stead-fastly amid all such circumstances there is no antidote or tonic better than the example of the hidden life of 3esus, Mary, and 3oseph. Perhaps' we db not suflicientJy associate the hidden life of Christ with the life of the Holy Family: yet .the one is .actually a part of the other, as Leo XIII wrote: ".In the( veneration of the HolyFamily the faithful rightly under-stand that they are reverencing the mystery Of the hidden life which Christ led together With His virgin mother and 31 FRANCIS L. FILA8 Review for Religious St. Joseph."* It is from this that the meditation derives so much of its richness." Then, too, it offers healthy variety. Whatever con-sideration we select can be projected against any of six or" seven aspects, according as we feel inclined at the moment. We can look at the relations of Jesus to Mary or Joseph; of Mary to Jesus or Joseph: of Joseph to Jesus or Mary: or ,finally, at the union of these three h61iest of. persons as the "earthly trinity." This opportunity of co.ntemplating the same truth from different angles is of great psychologi-cal value, for the mind quickly becomes fatigued if its atten-tion is focused uriswervingly on only one facet of a given subject. The meditation falls into two salient divisions,: the fact of the hidden life of the Holy Family, and the multiple lessons,it teaches. Its Gospel. text is, of course, that of St. ,Luke (2:51, 52),_"And He went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was subje~t to them; and His mother kept all these things carefully .in her heart. And Jesus advanced in wisdom an~ age and grace before God and men." The Fact Jesus Christmthe Second Person of the Blessed Trin-ity, who took to Himself human nature--whose mission was the redemption of mankind by means of suffering and a p.ainful deathmwho came to teach mankind the difficult law of brotherly love--to found a Church that would last for all time as the only .certain road to salvati0nmwho would draw men to embrace a moral code of self-denial and even suffering for the love of God. W.ith this tremendous task before Him Jesus spent ten *,Further information on the nature and history of the devotion to the Holy Family is contained in the author's article in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, January 15, 1944. 32 danuarg, 1945 THOUGHT8 ON THE HOLY FAMILY times as much of His life in obscurity as in His p.ublic aposa tolate--because it was the will ,of His Father in heaven. Only two personswere Hi~ intimate and c6nstant com-panions during this period Mary and Joseph. Mary--the Mother; of God-God's choices~ handi- Wi~rk among mere creatures--who lived with Jesus'in the intimacy of mother With son--in obscurity because He willed it--the second Eve, .united with Him in His.work of redemption as the first Eve was united with Adam in the ' first sin. Joseph--the only man who ever received the virginal conjugal 10ve of Mary and the filial, submission'of Jesus--- truly the'virginal husband of the Mother of God and the virginal f0ster-i~ather of the Son of God--buried in obscurity because. Jesus willed it--and realizing perhaps that this obscurity must be continued in the life of the Churcl"i for more than a thousand years, lest the iecogni-tion of the foster-father hinder the recognition of Christ's divinity and Mary's virginity. The Holy Family--a true family supported by Jbseph its head--mothered by the perfect mother--preparing the Lamb for the sacrificemthe Child and Son in this .family like to us in all things, sin alone excepted. - The Lesions Obedience and use of authority: Jesus with His divine wisdom often knows a "better way,'"but does He refuse to obey Mary and Jbseph? .--Mary has the unsurpassed holi-ness and dignity that befit the Mother of God,, but is. she any.less submissive to her husband and head of the fam-ily?-- How,great must be theworth of Joseph, to be put in charge of Jesus and Mary, as the representative on earth of the Eternal Father!--See how prudently Joseph usds his authority, recognizing that its source rests in no intrinsic 33 FRANCIS L. FILAS Review for Religious superiority or. merit of his own~ but.on the will of God! The value ot: labor and ot: works ot: charity: Jesus works for Mary and Joseph diligently, in a spiri.t of coop-eration, and with a willingness to take up any task assigned . Him.---Mary and Joseph work for Jesus; was ever labor done more perfectly "all for Jesus" ?--If a cup .of water offered in Christ's name is to receive its reward, what must be the merit of these two great souls directly employed in Christ's personal' service.~ Yet even this their pri.vilege is not all-exclus.ive, for we can always remember that what we do for the least of Christ's brethren, we do to Christ-- in imitation of Mary and Joseph. Life of obscurity: The actual fact is that for thirty years Christ. hid Himself from the public view. For our. instruction and for the .success of His own future miiaistry. Christ shows the need of conformity to God's will even if it means givingoup the externalworks of the apostolate.--If God wishes to accomplish great work for souls through our efforts, the or~e essential condition is that~ we be conformed to His will,, united to Hini.--Then, too, there is only one soul over which we have .direct power, and that is our own. All othets~we can help or guide only indirectly, :for God with His grace does the work, using us as instruments.---!f our life is obscure according to God's will (we may be spending months and years in preparation for the active apostolate, .or on the other hand our time of labor may be cut short by sickness or old'age) ', we should not fret because of the apparent uselessness of our efforts. They are highly meritorious for ourselves and fo~ others precisely because they are done according to God's will.-~They can be far more selfless than prayers united with an exterior action in which we have Succeeded and semi-deliberately take the credit for ourselves.---We lose 0nly self-love in God-willed bbscurity. 34 THOUGHT~ ON THE HOLY FAMILY If We are spending Ourselves in a public apostolate such as the hospital Or classroom, our interior life ever remains hidden and obscure, knownonly to the Father from Whom we derivethe strength and inspiration to labor in His sdrv~ ice, and from whom Will come the reward that is Himself. ¯ ---To imitate the hidden life that Christ led, we look.to the two persons who followed Him most. closely, Mary and ~Joseph. Cbarit~l: desus, the perfect Son; Mary,. the perfect wife-arid mother; Joseph, the perfect husband and father: need more be said to describe the bond ~of lord that existed at Nazareth, our ideal to imitate? Pra~let': At Nazareth we see the value of the contem-plative apostolate, as well as the background of prayer that is so essential in. supporting and making fruitful the works o'f the mixed apostolate.--Our novitiate, our annual retreat, monthly recollection, daily meditation,' and exa-mens, are all so many times when we "go down to Naza-retl'i" to" pray.m"Whoever wants a master to teach him how to pray, let him take St. doseph for. his guide, and he will not lose his way" (St, Teresa of Avila).--Mary is the mediatrix of all graces, whose prayer God can never refuse, who a~ St. Luke says (2:52), pondered "all these things carefully:in her heart."--Jesus here at Nazareth is pre-paring Himself bypraying during a period ten times as long as His public life--and even in His public life and Passion He prayed before anal during every, action, To pray is to raise, the mind and heart to God, to put oneself consdously in God's presence. Mar~r and: Joseph were ever in the bodily presence of Jesus; can we doubt that the house at Nazareth was a house of prayer?-,--We marvel at thii privilege of Mary and Joseph; do we appr.edat.e and utilize to the full ~our.privilege of b,eing in the b.odily pres-ence of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament? FRANCIS L. FILAS ¯ Farnil~ virtues: If the.Holy Family is the patron of the Christian family, it is no less the exemplar for all families of religious. We have the love and concord that existed at Nazareth to show us how we should live our religious fam-ily life.--:-' In imitating the family virtues that were exempli, fled at Nazareth, we may well offer our own efforts ~n con-junction with those of Jesus, Mary, and. Joseph, begging God to protect and bless the families of our Church and ¯ riation. - Triple,Colloquy/: with Joseph, Mary, and desus--"By :.Joseph we are led to Mary, and by Mary to Jesus" (Bene-dict XV).--No one, save Jesus, ever loved Mary more than did Joseph: his greatness comes from his union With her" .and Jesus--can there be a greater proponent of devotion to Mary?:--No human person ever loved Jesus more than did Mary; can there be a. surer way of coming to the Son than through the Mother? '--"Jesus, ' Mary, Joseph, be with us now and at the hour of our deathV'- ¯Books Received (From O~tober 20: to December ~0) THE BRUCE PUBLISHING CO., Milwaukee. War Is My "Parish. By Dorothy Fremont Grant. $2.25. A Realistic Phi-losopby. By K.'F. Reinhardt, Ph. D. "$2.75. The Man Nearest to Christ. By the Regerend F~ L. Filas, S.J. $2.50. THE NEWMAN BOOKSHOP, Westminster, Md. ' " With the Help of Thy Grace. By the Reverend John V. Matthews. S.J. S.T.D., Mag. Agg. (Pont. Greg. Uniw). $1.50. Our Lady of Fatlmm B~ the Most. Reverend Finbar Ryan, O.P. $1.25. SHEED ~ WfiRD, New York. Secrets of the Saints. By Henri Gheon.$3.1~0. 8peaMng, of How to Pray. By Mary Perkins. $2.75. GEORGE GILL ~ SONS, LTD., London. A Heroine of the Mission Field. By Dom. Romanus Rios. O.S.B. $1.00. ST. PAUL'S PRIORY, Keyport, New Jersey. Symbols of ChriSt. Volume I: The Old Testament. By the Reverend Damasus Winzen, O.S.B. $1;00~ 36 "l'he ,D~ily I::~min~:ion of Conscience James A. Kleist, S.J. RELIGIOUS are accustomed.to make a"dai'ly examina-tion of conscience. ' In some communities.the rule pre-scribes two such examinations: one at noon, the other ifi the evening. The time allowed for the exercise varies in different institutes, but nevor, so far as I know, exceeds fir-teen. minutes. It is not.to my present purpose to stress the imp0rtanc¢ of this spiritual exercise, beyond saying that i~ is intended, not only tO cleanse the. soul from blemishes con-tracted during the part of the day which it covers, but also to pave the way for a definite improvement of the whole-tone 0f one's spiritual 1ire. My immediate purpose is to enlarge upon a partic,ula.r method of conducting this inquiry into the state of one's soul. The fifteen minutes at our disposal pass sw!ftly, and they are either fruitfully spent or frittered away without results. To avoid iuch loss of time, it is well to have a definite method, for example, that recommended by St. Ig-natius in the Spiritual Exercises, "The method for making the general ¢xamen,:' says. th~ saint,. ~'has five points in it. The first po, int is to give thanks to God our Lord for the benefits received." Itl was a stroke of genius for the saint to advise opening the unpleasant business of examining our conscience with an act of thanks- .giving to God, the. Supreme Judge, who is either to. ratify or to. reject, our findings. We. are to thank "God our Lord." God is infinite in all. His perfections. He is holy, almighty, immense, everlasting:, just, sovereign in every respect. He is; 37 JAMES A. KLEIST Re~ieu~ [or Religious moreover, supremely happy. And yet, He created the worId, and u.s, who live in the world. He willed to be "our Lord." Vainly ~hall we try to~ understand fully God's reasons'for creating. What we do know for certain is that He wished to share His happiness with other beings, with finite creatures. To enable us to reach this end lie has endowed us with marvellous faculties, both of body and of soul. Moreover, He so directed the oursd of events fro.m the beginning that the wOrld might almost seem tO be cre-ated for ea'ch one Of us ihdividually. The psalms cannot 'say enotigh of His Providence, which looks after the tiniest details of our lives. When mankind failed to cooperate with H~s original beneficent designs, even then He was not turned aside: He sent His Only-begotten Son into the world to restore us to grace. Besides these.general ble~sings,.each one of us can tell of special graces showered upon him. No 'need of going into details; but we must not overlook the .blessings received on the particular day when the examen is made. : ' Thus .far our minds have been busy with'a rapid survey ~of God's g00dne~s toward~us. But wehave'not yet corn- .plied with St. Ignatius's first point. We have not yet ¯ ~'~halnk~d. God our ILord.'~. Ev!denfly, we must do more than m e 'r e'l y , r e h e a r s ~ o u r B e n e f a c t o r ' s k in d l y ' d '~eds. The next and altogether necessary st~p, then, is to find ~¢ords :a~Pr0tSriate to the praise of God our LOrd. This is the problem of the first point. Imight solve it by saying that each one is be~t qualified to find words to express his thanks. Or I might suggest the use of the¯psalms,those great store-houses of devout aspirations. But ~just now I prefer to recommend the use of' the ¯Roman Missal, especially the Ordinary of the Mass, for .fitting expressions of gratitude. Many prayers Of the Mass have beer~ in Use for fifteen hundred years, or even more: Itsword~ tome to us laden Januar[l, i945 DAILY EXAMINATION OF (:ONSCIENC~ with" an unction which nothing else can rival, except, of course, the words ~)f Holy V~.rit. A further advantage is that, if~we cull our ejaculations from the Mass, we feel, our-selves in communion, with the whole Church. V~re speak not merely as individuals, .but as God's "holy people." This is an important point, as we shall see presently. To begin with, we ,may repeatthe Church's doxology: "Glory be to the F~ther, and to the Son, and to the H01y Spirit." Again, we may recite the tuneful opening of the Preface: "T~uly fitting it is and just, truly right and wholesome for the soul, that we.should, in every place and. time, give thanks to Thee, 0 I-I~ly Lord, Omnipotent Father, Eternal God." Then there are the Urgent declara-' tions of the Gloria: ."~re.p.raise Thee! "~xr~bless Thee! "~re adore Thee! :V~re glorify Thee! ~re give Thee thanks for Thy great glory!" Again,-we may turn tO our Blessed .Lord in phrticular, and say the beautiful, ending of that song of' the angels: "ThOu alone art holy; Thou alone art Lord; Thou alone' art Most High, 0 Jesus Christ, together with the Holy Spirit, in the glory of God the Father." A well-known text from St. [~aul's epistle to the [~hilippians occurs in several Introits: "In the name of Jesus every knee shall bend, of beings in heaven, of beings on earth, of beings in the world below; and every tongue shall confess, to the Father's glory, that Jesus Christ is Lord." Again, there is-not a priest but feels a touch of solemnity ,when he says at the "little elevation": "Through;Him, and with Him, and in Him, all/2onor and glory/ redounds to Thee, O God the .Father Almighty, in the unity of the Holy Spirit." In our examination of conscience, why not make the priest's words our own?. W~ thus conclude the first of the five points. Wh~t counts is not so much a multiplicity of prayers as a :deep-felt desire to pour out our thanks to God for.all the benefits 39 JAME~ A. KLEI8T Re~ieu~ for Religious received. The prayers suggested ~above will be helpful, unless we have still better ones suited to our individual temperament. I said a while ago that it was important ifor us to feel ourselves in communion" with th~ whole Church whenever we pray. It is signHcanr that her prayers are ~couched in the plural number. Are there not millions and millions of men and women who breathe God's air and have their daily bread from God, but never have a word of thanks for Him? ]~riefly, then: while the mind takes a rapid view of God's blessings, the heart is .constantly and devoutly engaged in prayer., "The second point," says St. Ignatius, "'is to ask grace to knov~" our sins and cast them out." How well the saint understood the paramount place which di~rine grace holds in the sanctification of ~e soul! "Without me you can do nothing," our Lord had said. We cannot know our failings in their true light, and rid ourselves of them, withou~ help ~rom God. Gettihg rid of inordinate habits is much like casting out the devil, and this, a~ the apostles found, out on a certain occasion,, is no child's play. The grace we ask is twofold: to cure the blindness of mind which refuses to recognize sin, and to rouse the sluggish will to form strong resolutions. Our problem now is how ~o secure this divine assist-ance. ~,Ve must pray for it. "vVe may, perhaps, begin with a prayer to Mary Immaculate, whose mind was flooded. with light, and whose will was untouched even by the faintest weakness. We shall of course,, recall the Church's official prayers for light and strength, the vigorous Veni Sancte Spir~rus and the.collect for the Sunday of Pentecost. The.Sequence, in particular, will yield a number of power~ ful pleas for help, especially the two stanzas in which each verse begins with an urgent imperative.~. "Wash, water, Januarg, 19415 DAILY EXAMINATION OF CONSCIENCE heal; bend, warm, direct"--all expressions that stress the difficulty the soul experiences in the process of driving out sin. But here, as elsewhere in this examination of conscience, - I would recommend that we go through this point with an eye to the future. We may ask the grace to know and expel sin., not only here and now for the purposes of this examen, but also. to secure help for the future, as, for example, by asking the twofold grace for our next weekly confession. This practice, faithfully adhered to, will raise our estima- .tion of the Sacrament of Penance, and, no doubt, make its reception more profitable. Again, there is but one step in thought from the weekly confession to that last ~f all con-fessions which we hope to make when we arrive on the threshold of eternity. Our death is in the hands of a mer-ciful God: it may be sudden, if He so decides, but we pray' that it may not be unprovided. This long-range prepara-tion for it will win us special light' and special strength in the momentwhen'we shall welcome them most. It is then that we shall wish to know all our "innumerable sins and offences and negligences" and to repent of them so genuinetg that our entrance into "the Holy of Holies" may, if pos-sible,, be instantaneous. And here, too, we may be apostolic in our prayer and ask the twofold grace for the thousands, that shall die this day. Are they prepared? Or are they ' unprepared? We shudder to think of it. Many live so lightheartedly as hardly ever to think of God.~ We can assist them in the hour of their greatest need. I repeat what I said in the first point: what is v~anted is. not a multiplicity of prayers, the depths of which we do not sound, but rather one or two sincere aspirations that set our hearts aflame. We are "now ready for the third point, the scrutiny. Here we are: defendant, prosecutor, witness, judge, all in 41 JAMES A. KLEIST Reuietu f6r Religious one. "The.third.point," says St. Ignatius, ;'will be to ask account of our soul from the time at which we rose tO the present examen, hour by hour, or period by periodl and first .as to thoughts, then as to words, and finally as to acts." Thoughts,. words and deeds are. the material on which to base the final verdict. Of th'e five points this is the only one into which prayer as such does not enter. It is a Cold-blooded examination conducted by the understanding, illumined, of course, by the light of the Holy Spirit for which we prayed in the sec-ond point. Among the "thoughts" we include motives, those hidden springs of action which make an individual's seemingly plain, monotonous life so ~colorfui in the sight of God. Further detail is unnecessary: We know the ten commandments, we know the precepts of the Church, we kno~¢ the rules of our order. We recall the persons .w.ith whom we were dealing earlier in the day, and the work or task we were expected to perform. That is all. The minutes allowed for the examination'are brief, and we must proceed to its most important part. "The fourth point," 'says St. Ignatius,, "will be to ask pardon of God our Lo~d for the faults committed." Contrition is sorrow for sin,, and sorrow has a sting in it. St. Ignatius has two significant words for it, "shame"-and "confusion.''~ But while the realization of the numerous'lapses in the past (I ¯ say "the past" designedly, for we may wish to include in. .every act of contrition the sins committed from the dawn of reason onward-) is painful ~o a soul that loves God, yet sorrow for them must not be depressing. True Christian contrition is hopeful, and hop~ is not unmingled with joy. Even the Church on Holy Saturday, after the night of sin has passed away and the true Light of the world has risen, cries' out: "'0 felix ci~Ipat."' Adam's fault was a "happy" one in the sense that it has brought "us " a Redeemer.so 42 danuar~ o 1945 DAILY EXAMINATION OF CONSCIENCE good, so great." So in" our own case; our sorrow for sin, if genuine, will be a source of blessings. Every sin of the past will be a stimulus to greater fervor in the service of God. This, surely, is reason enough, even if there were 'no others, to make our contrition as perfect as we can. The devil, who rejoiced in. our faults, ~s thus utterly routed. In going through this fourth point, we should remem-ber that there is a distinction between perfect and imperfect contrition, the former based on the love of God, the latter on supernatural, though inferior, m6tives. Furthermgre, every sin presents many. aspects. It is "heinous," says St. Ignatius, "even' if it were not forbidden." It forms the , strongest possible contrast to the infinite holiness of God. It is also an offence.against the divine lawgiver who forbids sin as an infringement of His commandments. It is ingrati-tude toward'our divine Benefactor, whose blessings we recalled in the first point. To deplore our faults more e~- caciou'sly, we may also remember that, in committing them, We seemed to make so little of all that Christ our Lord did and suffered for us. Thoughts like these will furnish numerous motives for making a heartfelt act of contrition. As to the words in which to clothe our act of contrition, the Church supplies us with numerous well-tried patterns. There is, first of all, the act of contrition so familiar to us from childhood. Then, again, we may find something suited to our state of mind in the psalm, called the Miserere. But here, again, I would stlggest that we closely adhere to the Ordinary of the Mass. It is.not without significance . that the priest at the foot of the altar, in preparing for the Holy Sacrifice, spends so great an amount of time in asking God's pardon. The Conliteor invites Heaven to witness our contrition, and thereby increases our sense of shame. Again, have we ever tried to utilize the urgent appeals for divine'mercy in the versicles and responses directly follow- 43 JAMES A. KLEIST Reoieu~ [or Religious , ing the Conl:iteor? "May Almighty Go~] have mercy on us, forgive our sins, and bring .us to ere}hal life. May the Almighty and Merciful Lord grant us pardon, absolution, and remission of our sins. Turn to us, 0 Lord, and give us file: and Thy people shall rejoice in Thee." (Note by the way, how the Church couples "joy" with the act of con-trition. Sin is not forgiven except through the infusion or an increase of "life,"' tha/is, sanctifying grace.) Ascending the altar Steps, the priest says the beautiful Aut:er a nobis:. "Take away from us our sins, we beg, O Lord, that by Thy grace we may enter the Holy of Holies with minds that have been purified." In the Oramus te he calls upon the saints for their intercession: "We implore Thee, O Lord, by the merits of Thy saints whose relics are upon our altars. graciously to forgive all our sins." Th~ need of contrition for sin is so vividly present to the mind of the Church that expressions of it appear again in later parts of the Mass, as, for example, at the offering of~the bread, when the" priest asks pardon "for my innumerable sins, offences, and negli-gences." Again, a little later: "In humble frame of mind and with a crushed heart we beg to be received by Thee, O .Lord." ¯ The last reference to sinin the Mas.~ occurs in the Placeat, the ver~ last prayer in thi~ Mass. Th.ese prayers are all apt expressions of contrition that We 'may use in the examination of conscience. Fr. Meschler says:. "Our sorrow for sin should be as perfect and sincere as we can make' it " A further warning by the same writer is also jn place here: "It is of importance td spend most of the time (that is, during the dxame.n) on the act of contrition and on the constructive part of the exercise. To rembve ~the dust from a piece of furniture w~ do not pick up particle after particle. One good sweep of the duster will do the woik in a momimt. The effect of deep-felt sorrow fo~: sin and a firm purpose0f amendment 44 January, 1945 DAILY EXAMiNA'~ION Ol= CONSCIENCE is much the same. One more remark before we pass on. As Ghrist our Lord took.upon Himself the whole burden of the world's load of sin', and made Himself a pe¢¢otum, that is, a sin, a repre, sentafive of the whole sinful race, so we may, in imi-tation of Christ, take the world's sins~upon ourselves and include, in our act of contrition, a will to make reparation forthe sins of all men. In the general examination of conscience, by the way, St. Ignatius says nothing about corporal penances or acts of mortification which, one may undertake as a natural and spontaneous fruit of contrition. But we know from his life that he was one of the world's great penitents; and besides, from occasional remarks in the Spiritual Exercises, it is clear that he approves of this pbacfice. There is one more point to consider, the constructive part of the examination of conscience. After tearing down the whole or part of a building, it is necessary to build up again. "The fifth point," says St. Ignatius, "is to propose amendment with God's .grace."-Again we notice the saint's awareness of the fact, that divine grace plays an indispen-sable part in the work of sanctification. "The resolution," says Fr. Meschler, "should be.firm and. strong. ¥~re should foresee 'the ordinary occasions of our faults and take preo caution agaifist them." Here, as elsewhere in this examination, the Missal is a trustworthy guide. I would call attention tO two prayers in the Canon of the Mass which seem to me well suited to ask the help of God in laying a solid foundation for the future. There is first the Supptices te rogamus, in which we pray that our sacrifice (which in our own case should mean-all ~the efforts we wish to make to reform our lives) may be presented,, by the hands of the Angel, to God's majesty "in order that we may.be filled more and 45 JAMES A. [~LEIST , Review for Religious ¯ more with every celestial grace and benediction.~' Then I suggest the Libera nos, which comes directly after the Pater~ noster and ends in this consoling prayer: "Graciously shed peace upon our darts, in order, that, aided by the wealth of Thy mercy, we may ever be free from sin and secure from eyeful disturbance." Here the Outlook is upon the rest of our days which we hope to spend in this vale of tears. "Gra-ciously shed peace upon our aa~ls. Once more I wish to point out that these prayers of the Church are phrased in the plural number,, so that, in saying them, we actually include the interests of our fellow men. HoWever good a prayer may be, it is still better for an addi-tional touch of Christian charity,.and since charity begins at homel we are praying for our fellow religious, thosel in particular, who live in the same community with us. With them our lot is cast by the arrangement of our superiors, and it is essential tha~ we live in harmony and give edifica-tion. When. defects are noticed, human nature is prone to ~riticize, to judge rhshly, to harm more than to help. All such unlovely traits of character may be effec.tively stifled ¯ by a hearty prayer for the supposed offender. Nor would khe examination of conscience be quite complete if we did hot resolve to mend such ways of our own as we know from experience to be irritating to those with whom we live. ,St. Ighatius Wants us to close the examination with ~in Our Father. After all, the Lord's Prayer contains every-thin. g we need for a devout life. I must conclude. The daily examination of conscience is a recognized practice in religious institution~. It is of vi~al importance for the spiritual well-being of the entire community, and should, therefore, be made, to borrow a ¯ phrase from St. Ignatius, "with all~ diligence in the Lord." Unless our heart is in it, it becomes a matter of routine ~vhich leaves us just where we ~were before we began. -46 danuar~l, 1945 DA!LY EXAMINATION OF CONSCIENCE An examination well made prepares the soul 'for the various indulgences, plenary or partial, which one may ¯ wish to gain that particular day. It is essential to St. Ignatius's method to go through all the five points as often as the examen'is made. But it would "be contrary to his mind'to give the same amount of time, say, three minutes, to each of the points. °On Easterday, for example, it would seem natural to draw out the time for the giving of thanks, while on Good Friday the soul is, perhaps, more attuned to sorrow for sin. St. Ignatius believed in methods, but had no ,use for soulless rigidity in the use of them. , The pattern here set forth links the examination with the Roman Missal and thus centers our attention arofmd the one great act Of worship, the Mass: There are, of course~, other ways,, of conducting this inquiry. I once listened to a talk in which the instructor linked St. Ignatius's five points with the Five Wounds of our Blessed Savior. The saints are ingenious in devising methods of prayer that suit their personal preferences and, at the same time, yield notable results. A decided advantage of the method here proposed is, I think, that it lays stress on actual prayer. The complaint has been made that "some religious giv~ more time, in their devotions, to the play of the intellect than they give .to the Will." After all, prayer is the daily bread of a religious. I,shall close, therefore, with the admonition of St. Paul: "Be assiduous in prayer." Holy Hour for C6nvers;ons Father Albert A. Murray, C.S.P., has m~de a simple, striking arrangement of prayers for use during a Hol!i Hour for Cont~e~:dons. The Paulist Fathers will supply the 'booklets, free of charge, to religious communities that wish to establish this apostolic devotion. Write to: The Paulist Fathers. 911 South Wabash Ave-nue. Chicago 5. Illinois. 47 Decisions'orr I-Ioly .July 21, 1944: The Sacred Cbngregation of the Holy Office pub-lished a decree in whicl~ it declared that the system of mitigated mil-ler~ arianism cannot be taught safely. His Holifiess, Pius XII, approve~l and confirmed this answer and o~dered it to be published. In its decree the Holy Office defines mitigated millenarianism as that system "which teaches that Christ the Lord will come before the final judgment, either before or after the resurrection of many of the just, for the purpose of reigning visibly here upon this earth." May 20. 1944: In an audience granted to the Cardinal Major Peni-tentiary, His Holiness, Pius XII,in reply to the .request of' many "priests, granted to those who, in the adversities of this life lift up a trusting heart to God and with pious mind and contrite heart recite the words: "Thy will be done," t14e following indulgences: (1) 50 days each time; (2) a plenary indulgence to be g;iined under the usual conditions, after having devoutly recited the aspiration every day for a month. Promulgated in a decree of the Sacred Peniten-tiary, dated July 10, 1944, , January 24, 1944: In an audience granted to the Secretary of the Sacred .Congregation of Religious, His Holiness, Pius XII, approved with his apostolic authority, the erection and constitution of a special commission within the said Sacred Cdngregation to assist it in ful-filling the duties entrusted to it by canon 251. This new commis-sion, tO be made up of learned and experienced men, will handle all questions and matters in any way pertaining to the religious and clerical training of aspirants, novices, and junior members of every-religious institute, and of societies living in common without vows. It will also handle questions pertaining to their literary, scientific and practical training. The following will be especially entrusted to the Commission: (a) to define and outline the cardinal principles and p~uliar charac-teristics which should guide the education and ~training of religious; (b) to keep a watchful eye on the ordinations of supdriors and chapters regarding matters pertaining to education and training, as well as to inspect and examine carefully the reports furriished on these subjects by superiors and apostolic visitors. 48 Should We Baptize Dying Adults? Gerald Kelly, S.J: 44~ATHER, why do priest~ differ so much on the qu~s- I~ .tion of baptizing unconsc!ous dying people?" The speaker was a zealous nurse. I suspected what she meant, but I preferred to reply the Irish way: ",Just what do you mean, 'differ so much' "Well, during my trainingthe priest who taught us religio.n advised us always to give conditional baptism, to unconscious dying people, ~nless we were surethey.-were already:baptized. But our hospital chaplain insists that it is wrong to baptize people unless they have given some kind of sign that they want to be baptized. This is a.pretty serious matter, it seems to me. We nurses frequently have to attend patients who. were brought into the hospital unconscious.and who die without regaining consciousness. Sometimes we don'~ know anything, about their religious beliefs. It might be that they want baptism and that they .need it, but.they can't express themselves. Are we to stand by and let them lose their souls when we might do the :one thing necessary to save them?" That nurse rather completely outlined a difti~:ulty not infrequently encountered by those who care for the sick. .Priests differ on a point of seemingly supreme importance. Some say, "Baptize": and some say, "Don't dare baptize": and the result is confusion, even distress, on the part of the Sisters, Brothers, and nurses. In slightly varying form, this question has been often presented to me. -I have given answers and explanations to the.individuals presenting the qtiestion; but it has occurred 49 GERALD KELLY. Reoie'w for Religious to me'that, since a large number of our readers are engaged in caring for the sick, it might.be well to give them the back-ground for this diversity of opinion among priests regarding the baptism of unconscious dying people. The ques'tion, of course,, concerns dyingadults. No chaplain, I know,' would tell a nurse that she ~hould never bapfze an unbaptized .dying baby. ¯ Dying infants who are not certainly baptized, are always to be baptized unless their baptism wouid bring harm to the Church--something which is quite improbable. But the question of baptizing dying adults has certain complications, both theoretically and practically; and a difference of opinion regarding some casesis almost inevitable. The Church law concerning the baptism of adults is contained in canon 752. The thrde parts of this c~an0n. 'cover three distinct cases: (1) The baptism of adults.who are not' in danger of death; (2) the.baptism of adults.who ¯ "are, in danger of death, but conscious; and (3) the baptism o°f adults who are in danger of death and already uncon-scious. Since our present discussion coficerns the baptism ¯ of the dying, the first part of the canon is not strictly per-tinent. However, for the sake of ~:ompleteness and clarity, [ believe it advisable to give 0a brief commentary on the entire canon. NoDanger of D~ath The first part of canon 752 prescribes that adults who are not in dangerof death are not tO be baptized unless they expressly desire it. Moreover, before they are baptized they are to be given complete catechetical instructions and are to be warned to make an act of contrition for their sins. Such are the' regulations for what we may'term the 6rdin~rycases: that is, the'.preparation and baptism of con-verts who ard nol~ in danger of death. .The reasbn for the January, 1945 "SHOULD WE BAPTIZE DYING ADULTS? first prescription is obvious. Everyone who has reac~ed the agi~ of reason must decide for himself whether bewishes, to receive baptism; God does not force his gifts on anyone. Hence, in the case of ail but infants, a: requisite for valid baptism is the w(lffngness of thesubject. And of course, the ministel of l~he sacrament should know of this willing-ness before he baptizes. The need of complete instruction in this case is also evident. The convert is being prepared to lead a Catholic life, and one can hardly lead such a lifd iif he knows only the few truths of Faith that are necessary for salvation. Finally', the act Of- contrition is necessary, because even bap-tism cannot wipe away his persorial sins unless he iepefits of them. We need not delay further on thi~ p.art of the canon. - A priest would be the one to confer baptism in these ordi-nary cases, and he would know. the requisites of law and should see that they are fulfilled. I might add, however, for the benefit of those religious who may be called on occa-sionally to instruct converts, that it is very important to teach them how to go to confession. The knowledge .will be an immense help tO them after their conversion. Dying, but Conscious The second partof the canon deals with the case of a person who is in danger of .death,but still conscious and in possession of his faculties. In this case there is no change with regard to the requisiti~ intention and act of contrition. The person, is not to be baptized unless he wishes it; and. if he isbaptized, he is to be cautioned to make an act of contrition for his sins. With regard to the instruction, there must be some modification. The complete instruction of a convert-takes sever~il weeks, or even several months, depending on the GERALD KELLY Review for Religious convert's capacity and on ~the frequency and durdtionof the instructions. Evidently such complete instruction is im-possible, when death is imminent. The canon recognizes this and indicates the minimum essentials of instruction to be given in these urgent ~ases: namely a sufficient explana-tion of the principal truths of the Catholic Faith so that the sick person can give some assent' to these truths and pro-fess his willingness to live up to the obligations.imposedby the Christian religion (in case he should recover). The principal truths of our Faith, belief in which is ' necessary for salvation, are four: the existence of one God, the.fact that God rewards the good and punishes the wick-. ed, the mystery of the Blessed Trinity, and the mystery of the Incarnation. These truths ar,e. aptly expressed in simple acts of faith by Monsignor Markham in the prayers he. has composed for the assistance of. dying non,Carbolics. "I believe, iri oneGod, I believe that God rewards the good and punishes the Wicked. I believe that in God there are three divine Persons--God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy. Ghost. I believe .that God the Son became Man, without ceasing to be God. I believe that He is my Lord and My Saviour, the Redeemer of the human race, that He died on the Cross for the salvation of all men, that He died also for me." Such isonebrief statement of the four truths tha~every-one must believe in order to be. certain of saving his soul. If at all possibl~, something should be said about each of the truths so that 'the dying person can make his act of faith ¯ ~n all of them. This can generally be done in a few min-utes; hence there is usuaIly no great difficulty in at least out-lining the truths. In the rare cases in which all "four truths ' cannot bementioned, we should, at least help the patient m~ke an act of faith in the first two truths: namely, in the e~istence of one Godand in the fact that God rewards the 52 danuar~t, 194"5 SHOULD WE BAPTIZE DYING" ADULTS? good and punishes the wicked. It is probable, though by no means certain, that faith in these two truths is sufficient for salvation; ahd that probability can be'acted upon when further instruction is impossible. In assisting dying non-Catholics we should not place ,too much confidence in the mere words,. "I believe." In Catholic doctrine the words' "faith" and "believe'.' have technical meanings. When we say we believe, we meah we accept a truth, not because we see it' or understand it, but because God revealed ~t. in other words, we take God's word for it. It is important for us to bear this in mind and to impress this point on the dying non-Catholic, because many of them have v.ery vague notions Of "faith" and "be-lief." Monsignor Markham's card, after giving the acts of faith cited above, adds this brief prayer: "I believe, on God's authority, everything that He has taught and re-v. ealed." If a nurse is using this card, these words would give the opportunity for a brief explanation of the true meaning of faith. Father William Bowdern, S.d., in his pamphlet, The Catholic Nurse and the Dyin'9, suggests that the nurse ex-plain the meaning of faith and the truths necessary to be believed in the. following simple manner: "You believe that there is a very good and loving God, don't you? You know that He could not tell a lie or teach us anything wrong. Hetold us some tlSings about Himself, and because He only tells the truth, you and I believe what He has told us. We take His word for it, don't we? He told us that there is only one God and three divine persons: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. And He said that the Son ~ame down on earth and took on Himself our hu-man nature, and then died on the' cross to save us, ~because He loved us so much. And He told us that He wants us all to be happy with Him forever in heaven when we die. 53 GERALD KELLY ¯ minist,ered unconditionally."~ . : ".* .: ~ Dging, bht Unconscious Reoieto [or Religious And He told us that the only ones who will not be with Him in heaven are those who insis.t on going to bell where they wills u"f f e r~ and never see Him. We believe these thir~gs because God told us," don't we? The fof~goiiag are ways ,9f helping 'the d~inigperson make th'e necessary acts of fhith. Every nurse ought to have some s,mple, eleafly-planfied way o~ doing .th~s? ,Having helped the patient m~k~ th~ acts of faith, ~h~ ~shbuld then help him to make the other pr~ers,particularlY the act of contrition. M0nsi~fi~r Mhr~am's card is'also a great aid to this, as it contains, be~des the ~cts of faith: also brief acts,of hope~ charity, and'c~n~rition. - What we have said thus far pertains to the preparatton 0f a dyi.ng person for baptism. Tfiis is equivalent to saying that '@e are ~repa~igg him for admtss~oh into t~e C~iholic Church; hence the canofi caa~ions u~ t~.have ~e~atient ex-press a wilhngn~ss to observe tb~* ~recepts "of~the Christian rehg~on. ~h~s db~s fi~t ~an 'tSat~we 'have to &codnt all thesd precepts ifi d~tail: but wh:en~e ar~" d~aling ~with a con-scio~ person and~there ,s ~me We should~ at least be sure that he wants to.keep thCe o m "mandmen.ts of God and live ~p to thebbligatio~s that the Church impos(s on him. - he~xpresses't~s wflhng~ess,be is tb be baptized Without oe~ay. ~ne canon supposes that the oapt~sm~wm oe con-ferred while the recipient ~s sm~ onscious, i~ tbis'i~ possible. H~w4ver, should he ~o~e" ~o~scious~ess~ bef6re receiving the sacrament, bu~ after havin~ requ~s~e~"i°t, ~:sho61~ be ad- The third part of Canon 752 gives us.some-practical rules about dying adults who are either wholly or partially-unconscious. Such persons are to be bapti'~'ed'd~3ndi~ionally if, before°becoming uncbnscious, they"gave Some l~robable 54 , Januac~/o 1945 :, ~. SHOULD WE BAPTIZE DYING~ADULTS?. sign that they wanted baptism, or if, in their present state (when-partially unconscious) they give.a probable indica-tion that they wish to be baptized. The baptism is admin-istered c0nditionally--the condition being: "If you wish to.be baptized." Later,~ if the subject recovers and mani-fests a clear desire to be baptized,, he is tO be re-baptized conditionally (".if Y0u.are not baptized:7.), because it'.is not certain, that the first, conditional baptismis valid. Such are the prescriptions of the canon. In. themselves, these prescriptions are clear.and admit of ~no controversy. However, with regard to one .point there is evidently room for differences of opinion. I.refer to the interpretation Of the words. "a probable, sign that be wishes to be baptized." Theologians can and do dispute .over what. constitutes a wish to be baptized, and also over what constitutes a mani-festation of such a. wish. Because of this possibility of differencesof opinion, it may be.well for us to consider some of the cases likely to arise. - - Mr. X belongs to no particular religion: but his wi~e is .a Catholic and his children areCatholics. He.has never said openly that he intended to join~thi~ Catholic Churcki, l~ut he has manifested such general good will that those who know .himfeel rather confident that he had .~'leanings". in that direction. Cases like this are not infrequent. One who is assisting at X's deathbed has good reason to conclude" "It is probable that this man intended to join the Catholic Church before his death." Evidently, an intention to join the Catholic Church incl.ukles an intention.to receive bap-tism; hence we have here a probable .sign of the will to be baptized. I doubt if any one would question the.fact that such a person should be given, conditional baptism if be -were.unconscious and dying. . . Mr. ~Y presents a somewhat different case. He has never manifested ~hat he wanted to be a Catholic, but he has 55 GEliD KELLY Reoie~o for Religious shown a disposition to be a '~Christian," ~l~at is, to belong to One of the sects that profess Christianity. In other words he has given some indication that he Wants to belong to "Christ's religion,." whatever that is. Actually, of course, thi~re is only one true Church of Christ.- A person may be mistaken as to which is the' true ohe: but, if he does want to belong to Christ's Church, he also wants baptism, because our Lord made baptis.m the sacrament of entry into His Church, Hence, anyone who has given an indication that he .wants to be a Christian should be c0nd!tionally baptized when he is unconscious and dying, unless it is ce'r-tain that he is already validly baptized. Mr. Z presents a still different and. more difficult dase: He belongs to. no Christian bod~,; but he has been a "good man," in the sense that he wanted to do the right .thing, or at least he has manifested' that he was sorry for all his sins and: that he wanted to do what was necessary to save his soul. This, of course, is a much more ger~eral disposition than that of X or Y. And the question arises: can such a. disposition, for example, sorrow for sins and desire to do what is necessary for salvation, be construed, as a wish~ to receive baptism, or is something more definite d~mafided? Theologians do. not agree in 'their answer to, the question. Many hold that this dispositi0n~ is entirely too general: others consider that it implicitly includes the' wish to receive baptism, because baptism is one' of1 the ordinary means, of salvation instituted by God. Because of the controversy ~just mentioned:, .we cannot say .with certainty, that a man who has indicated that he wants to do everything necessary tO save his, souli has tl~e requisite intention for baptism. But we can say, at least because of the authorities behind: the opinion,, that it is ¯ p.robable ~that such a, person, wishes to be baptized; hence we are justified in conferring conditional baptism when the 56 January/, 1945 SHOULD WE BAPTIZE DYING ADULTS? man is in danger of death and unconscidus. ~. The foregoing .brief .comments exhaust the .provi-sions of canon 752. The canon says nothing directly about thecase proposed by fhe nurse at the beginning of this article" namely, about the unconscious pearson about whom we know nothing. From the silence of the Code, ,and from the severe tenor of cert~iin decisions of theHoly See that are used as the foundation for canon 752, many theologians argue that the Church forbids the baptism, even conditional, of a dying unconscious person unless he has given some posit!ve sign that he wishes to be baptized. In other words, according to these theologians, canon 752 tells us not merely everything that we should do,. but also everything that we rnag do, Some authors convey the. impression that this severe opinion is the only tenable opinion in the matter. Very likely the reh.son why the.chaplain referred to by the nurse a(the beginning of this article insisted that unknown, unconscious dying persons may not be baptized, even con-ditionally, is that he had not heard of another tenable opinion. ' Yet there is another, opinion, an. opinion held as prac-tically probable by such theologians as Bucceroni, Cappello, Da, vis, Genicot, Iorio; Lehmkuhl, Piscetta, Sabett~i, Ver-meersch, and Wouters. I. realize, of course, that a list of names like this may be "so much Greek" to nurses and hos-pital Sisters and Brothers; yet to the priest wh~ is conver-sant with books of Moral Theology the list should be highlY significant. Some, if not all, of these men are cer-tainly among the outstanding moralist~ of the present cen, tury. We may safely say that the opinion they sponsor as probable in the present matter may be followed unless some further decision of the Holy See makes it clear that the opi.nion is to be.rejected. 57 GERALD KELLY Review ~or Religiotts In the opinion of the authors just cited--an opinion often referred to as the "lenient" opinionmwe are°justified in conferring conditional baptism on the unknown and unconscious dying adult. The authors admit that their opinion seems less in conformity with the decrees of the Holy See than the severe opinion; but they deny that these decrees make the other side certain. To sum Up the mate~:ial treated.in this article. In 6rdi-nary cases of conversion, when there is no urgent necessity for baptism, thd sacrament is not to be conferred unless the subject expressly asks for it and until he is prepared for the sacrament by complete catechetical instruction. And, in order that the ~acrament be certainly fruitful, he is to be warned to repent of his sin~. In urgent cases, in which even those who are not priests may confer the sacrament, it suffices to help the dying per-son make the essential act of faith and a sindere act of con-trition. The supposition here, of course, is that the sub-ject wishes to be baptized and is willing to live up to the precepts of God and the Church, should he recover. As for unconscious persons, we have treated three dis-tinct cases. First; those who certainly wanted baptism before lapsing into unconsciousness are~ to be baptized unconditionally. Secondly, those who gave some probable sign that they wished to be :baptized are to be baptized con-ditionally. And finally--in the case proposed by the nurse --if nothi~ag is known about the person, the nurse is justi-fied in conferring conditional baptism if she wishes.to do so; but because of the strong opinion against it, she is not strictl} obliged to do so. As Father Sabetti would say: "If she does nothing, I do not reprimand her; but if she confers conditional baptism,. I. praise her." In other words, the nurse may make her ow6 the opinion of Father Ver-meersch, who, after having examined all the arguments of 58 January. 1945 SHOULD WE BAPTIZE DYING ADULTS? the severe side, concluded that: "If scandal is avoided, one may confer conditional baptism on any unconscious, dyi~.g adult who is not known to be already baptized." As for myself, I believe that this same Father Vermeersch expressed what seems to be a Catholic instinct when he said: "I could not resign myself to permit a single soul to be lost that might have been saved by my ministrations." Father Vermeersch's words could ~ell be taken as an ideal by all who minister to the dying. The wolds are applicable, not merely to the case of giving conditional baptism to unknown, unconscious persons,, but also and even especially to the preparation of conscious patient~ for death. After all, the baptism of unknown and unconscious persons is of very dubious efficacy, as even the staunchest defenders of the practice will admit. It is the seizing Of a last plank of hope, the use of a last desperate remedy. But "when a patient is conscious, no matter what his religion, the nurse accomplishes results that abe definitely fruitful, even to.a high degree, by encouraging.him to devout acts of faith, hope, chaiity, and contrition. In the case of non- Catholics, in particular, the nurse's spiritual assistance may be badly needed, .because very often they have no one to help them prepare for their meeting with our Lord. For this reason, I again recommend the splendid work of the Apostolate to Assist Dying Non-Catholic.~.1 1For further information about the Apostolate to Assist Dyin~ Non'Catholics,' see REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS,. I, p. 338; or write for sample brochure and prayer cards to one of the following addresses: (a) Rt. Rev. R. J. Markham, S.T.D., Comptora Road, Hartwell, Cincinnati ! 5, Ohio. (b) Sisters of the Poor of St. Francis, St. Clare Convent, Hartwell, Cincinnati 15, Ohio. (e) Sister M. Carmelita0 R.S.M., Cdnvent of Merclr, 1409 Freemarl Avenue, Cincinnati 14, Ohio. Ques ions and Answers I ¯ Our (ionsfitufion~ prescribe a half hour of' private spiritual reading. Is that requisite fulfilled when we have reading in common and one person. delegated to do so reads for the duration of half an hour? Yes, the common performance of.an act will always sat.isfy the obligation of the coristitutions requiring the private performance, of such an act. Thus on special occasions, such as feast days, or on the day of m6n.thly recollection, it may be desirable to have some special reading appropriate for the feast or monthly recoll~ctibn. Sin~e such. reading may not be available for all because c~f the lack of°books, the reading held in common would satisfy .the obligation of private spir-itual reading¯ The question, might be rai~ed whether the superior could oblige the Sisters to have, rea.ding .in common when the Constitutions requi,re private reading. We think that this might be done occa-sionally, as indicated above, but not habitually. If the superior d~sired to have some. particular book read for the community because of its spedai spiritual value, she might invite the Sisters to attend the common reading of that book over a period of time, but she could not strictly oblige them to be present at the common reading. In s6me cbmmfinifies the Sisters wffh temporary vows are referred to as "professed novices," Does this imply that they may be classed with and mingle with the n6v;ces rather than ~;th" the perpetually professed Sisters? The.t~rm "professed novices" is a misnomer. If they. are pro-fessed they. are not novices, and if they. are novices they are not pro-fessed religious. The custom of having the religious professed of temporary vows remain in a class by themselves, and of giving them special additional training in the stiiritual life, is most praiseworthy, though not required byCanon Law. A better name for them is that of "junior professed" whereby they are distinguished from the "sen-ior professed," that is, those religious who have taken their perpetual VOWS. The Codeof Canon Law is meticulous in its u~e of the terms 60 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS "novice". arid "professed religious," and' this use should he re'rained in order to°avoid many misunderstandings. ~ The answer to our question is given in canon ~640 § 1 which tells us that "the novitiate shall be, as far as possible, "separated from that part of the house inhabited by the professed religious, so that, Withbut a'special cause and the permiSsion of the superior or of the master, the novices ma~, not have comm,unication with the professed religious, nor these latter with the novices." The canon makes no distinction between religious whb have taken temporary vows, and those who have maiie p~ofession of perpetual, vows, as it frequently does in other cases. Hence we can only conclude that the. professed of temporary vows are included in °th~ prohibition. What is the mean;nq of the statement in a recent issue of the Review " (111, 371)that the Epistle to the Hebrews may be the work of another writer than Paul~ at least ;n part? It means that the literary form of theEpistle may be the world of ¯ someone other than Paul. Catl~olic critics are permitted to hold this view, with deference, of course, to any further decision of the Church. For further explanation confer the introduction to the Westminster Version of the Epistle to the' Hebrews, or sde the Commentary on the Ne'w Testamerit prepared by the (American) Catholic Biblical Association. Our constitutions prescribe our makincj the Stations of the Cross ;n common every Friday. Do we ejaln any indulgences, if the congregation, which consists of some thirty S;sters~ remains ;n the pews and the superior alone proceeds from station to stati6n? Although this question was answered in Volume I, page 424 of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, we shall give here the substance of that answer for the benefit Of tbosd who may not have that volume. On February 27, 1901, the Sacred Congregation of Indulgences granted to the Marist Brothers the favor whereby they could gain the indul-gences of the Way of the Cross if only one person (for example, a Brother of the community) made the round of the stations, the rest of the community remaining in their places. The condition laid down in this grant was that there was a lack of space in the community 61 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS chapel for hll the religious to move from station tO station. On May .7°, 1902, this same privilege was extended to the chapels Of all reli-gious ~vomen, under the same ~onditions. Is it being "more ~athollc than the Church" to keep the. Lenten fast, if the blshop.has dispensed from the obligation of fasti~g"for'the duration"? The dispensation takes away the obligation imposed by the gen-eral law of the Church: and even those who are able to fast and who would normally be obliged to do. so are exempted. The dispensa-tion does not affect obligations imposed bn religious, by their rule, and it does not change the. fact that fasting is a good penance when prac-ticed accor.ding to the norms'of prudence. Fasting, even "during the duration," is very much in tune with the spirit of the Church¯ The Ldnten liturgy is full of references to fasting. Would it be incorrect to have flowers on the altar during the Benedic-tions of the Blessed Sacrament which occur from Passion Sunday to Easter~t The prescriptions of the~ rubrics forbidding the placing of flowers on the altar during penitential seasons, apply only when the Mass or o~ice of the season is said. Even then flowers are allowed on the altar by way of exception on the occasion of the First Communion Of children: and in honor of St. Joseph during the month of Ma~ch (S.R.C., d. 3448 ad XI). Hence it seems reasonable to allow them during the Benedictions of the Blessed Sacrament which occur during Passiontide. Could you suggegt, through the pages of the Review, a book of medi-tations suitable for boys in a'mlno~ seminary? We r, egret our inability to suggest such a book of meditations, and request our readers whohave knowledge of such a book or' books ¯ to communicate it to us sO that we may publish it in this column. 62 Book Reviews DO I REALLY BELIEVE? Meditations on the Aposfl.es' Creed. By the ,Reverend Henri Lebon, S.M. Translated from the French by the Reverend Peter Resch, S.M. The Abbey P~ress, St. Melnrad, Ind. $2.25. This book of meditations should receive an enthusiastic welcome, especially from religious. It consists of ~ s~ries of seventy-four medi-tations based entirely on the articles of the Apostles' Creed. The theme, of. co.urse, is not new; many meditations have been based on. the Creed. But this series is possessed of a unique spirit. It is the~ spirit of the Founder of the Society of Mary, the venerable Father Chaminade. Father Lebon.has captured this spirit hnd edited it. ¯ Father Chaminai:le, in his work of catechising and training young religious, found himself constantly stressing faith as the bed-rock of all Christian per.fecti0n. Indeed he was convinced that defection from religious vocation could be traced to a lack "of lively faith. So he found it exceedingly~ profitable to base many medita-tions on the Apostles' Creed. The book follows faithfully the traditional form'of preludes, division of matter fok thought, followed by examen, affections, and resolutions. However, into that form the author succeeds in weaving a wealth of apt illustrations from personal experience. The Holy Fathers speak too from e;cery page. And there are constant quota-tions from both the Old and New Testaments. ---W. J. O;SHAUGHNESSY, S.J. LENT: A Liturglc.al Commentary on the Lessons and Gospels. "By the Reverend Conrad Pepler, O.P. Pp.x -I- 406. B. Herder Book Co., St. Louis, 1944. $4.00. ¯ This bodk of very serious Lenten reflections has an advantage for religious communities in that the daily portion offered is .of greater length, closer to fifteen minutes, than the sparse outline contained in most manuals. A further merit is that its reflections on penance and the Passion are brought clearly into line with the day's Holy Sacrifice. Undoubtedly every religious, as the sombre impressiveness of Lent looms on his prayer horizon each year, ha~ felt a thirst of soul 63 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious .for. a richer understanding of the Le~nten liturgy. How fine it would be if those reflections on sorrow for sin and union with the suffering Christ, which common consent.dictates as the atmbsphere of the Forty Days, might, unfold naturally out of the venerable solemnity of each day's Mass, obviating that unwanted disunity in the morning's stint of prayer! Hence the value of, Father Pepler's achievement. It would be no small injustice to this meditation book to judge it too' ~arrowly in the light of its subtitle, "A LiturgicalCommen-tary." 'The author uses the liturgical text. He wrestles earnestly with it to make it subserve the orderly plan of reflections he has pro-posed to himself as likely to be most profitab!e to the reader:' whereas the task of a commentator is to fol[oto his text, adapt him-self to it, "make all his explanations serve it faithfully. Moreover, Father Pepler is di,tinctly patristic, rather than modern or scientific, in his attitude toward both Scripture and the liturgy. The Jacob incident, like the whole of Scripture, "is not intended to signify itself, for that is some material fact, but a hidden truth which ~is tO be soughtunder the symbolism" (p. 126). Thd author's Augus-tinian emphasis on the "mystical" accommo'dation of Sclipture, though not precisely what we look .for 'in a modern "commentary," " is satisfactorily handled for purposes of devout meditation.': --R. G, NORTH, S,J~ A REALISTIC: PHILOSOPHY. By K. F. Relnhardt, Ph.D. Pp, xli-I- 268~ The Bruce Pdbllshincj Company, Milwaukee, 1944. $2.75.' In this "Science and Culture" book," Dr. K. F. Reinhard~ of Stanford University presents a brief account of Scholastic philos-ophy, and shows how it works into political and economic philos-ophy. Philosophers should read this book to see how their thought furnishes principles of ac'tion most appropriate, to reestablish peace and justice. Those who are working for internationfil order and social justice should read it for its clearand rel.atively simple presen-" tation, of the 0principles through which alone these ends can be achieved. Dr. Reinhardt is well qualified to handle the interrelations be-tween these fields. He has a doctorate in philosophy to give him a solid background in this field; his practic.al experienceas an active member ~of the German Centrist party, as editor and publisher, 64 January, 1945 BOOK REVIEWS qualifies him to speak on polit.ics and economics. Scholastic thought, as.it appeari in this necessarily brief compass, is shown tO be realistic and logical. The author's main effort in the earlier section of the book is to show the realism of the "perennhl philosophy"; .that it ft, in fact, the only true realism, since it alone deals 'with all reality. Philosophy is of course never light reading. Dr. Reinhardt does "well in avoiding technical terminology and Latinism. His vigorous and concrete style carries the educated reader along through pages of closely packed reasdning. Those who are interested in the ploblems which are treated here. but who have felt themselves excltided from the technical literature on the subjects thr6ugh lack of formal training in them, will profitably and gladly read this eminently worth-while book. The book is implemented with a glossary of technical terms and bibliogr~aphy: there is an index.--G. P. KLUBERTANZ, S.J. SPEAKING OF HOW TO PRAY. By Mary Perkins. Pp. xll + 276. Sheed and Ward. New York. 1944. $2.75. Saint Teresa, who loved intelligent persons, would have loved ¯ Mary Perkins, for Mary Perkins is a Very intelligent person. More than that, she. is able to explain what she understands~ in clear and non-technical language. She has written a very sound and valuable book, which should enable any reader to comprehend better" than he did before the meaning of life and the way to live. The title is not very revealing. The book is much more than a disc.ussion of how to pray. It sets forth God's blue print for the universe and for each man, and points out the orie.m~thod of carry-ing out the divine idea. Part I, about a fourth of the book, is ;an amazingly fine syn-thesis of theology, ~given the brief compass allotted to it. God's pur-pose in creating the world, original sin, the Incarnation, the redemp-tion, and the Church are discussed and related in such a way that the whole o.rganism of~Christian revelation, stands forth clearly. The remaining chapters, which make up Part II, describe the life each Christian is called to live in the Church so as to achieve the closest possible union with Christ, and through Christ with God, our ultimate end. This section of the work is extremely practical; it shows us how to utilize the means of: union which Christ offers us in the Church,: especially the Mass, the sacraments, the divine office, 65 BOOK REVIEWS Reuieu~ for Religious and prayer, b6th vocal and mental. The author fully appreciates the wealth of Catholic liturgy, and is in complete sympathy with the objectives of the liturgical movement that has given a renewed impetus to Catholic life in recent decades. Anyone who follows the plan here attractively presented is on the road to sanctity. For this is the.Church's own plan, and the life outlined is the life of the , Church. The book should not be read rapidly. Otherwise a certain unrelieved monotony in the style will pail. A chapter each day, read slowly and reflecti'bel'y, would be ideal. An excessive fondness for capitalization of words which need not, by any. rules or. usage, begin with capital letters, and the d~vice of splitting words into com-ponent elements, such as "will-full," "super-natural," "norm-al," and a host of others, may serve to attract the attention of some readers, but will probably irritate others.--C. VOLEERT, S.d. WITH THE HELP OF THY GRACE. By the. Reverend John V. Mat-thews, S.J., S.T.D., Macj. Acjg. (Pont. Gre9. Univ.). Pp. 114. The Newman Book Shop, Westmlnsfer, Maryland,' 1944. $1.50. This book is, in substance, the treatise On Actual.Grace taught in seminaries. As such it Will be of interest to the student of the-ology, for laymen and for religious. It takes up in turn the meaning of Grace, its source, a few fundamentaldivisions, a definition of Actual Grace, its supernatural character, its nature, necessity and dis-tribution, Grace and freedom of the will. To these questions are added such distinctive chapters as: :'Can Actual Grace be seen or touched? . When may Actual Grace be expected?" . "How great a gift is Actual Grace?" Certain sections of the formal treatise on Actual Grace are omitted. For example, no mention is made of the highly controverted subject of the reconcili~ition of Actual Grace with the freedom of man's will. Discussions of this nature are not considered pertinent to the purpose of the "book. The topic of each chapter is propose~l in the form of a question. The body of the chapters PrOceeds in the catecbetical method of question and answer. To these are appended Scripture quotations in support of the truth proposed. But the book is more than a cate-chism, as some of the questions run through two pages or more. Chapter questions serve as a striking way of approach t'o a truth put in thesis form in theological manuals. They remind one of the very January3, 1945 BOOK REVIEWS effective yet simple problem method of St. Thomas. The primary purpose of this book is to convey to the reader'a fuller knowledge of Actual Grace. 'This is as it ought to be, for appreciation and solid devotion presuppose understanding. ToO little has been said and .written in explanation of Actual Grace. Too much of the little said has left minds without a grasp of basic ideas. To accomplish his aim .the author bends every effort. His insistence throughout is on clarity and ~implicity, even to the deliberate sacri-rice of literary style. But th~ book is not all purely informational. A certain propor-tion of appreciation joine~l to.instruction 'is obtained by the intro~ .duction ~it the end of each chapter, of what is called a "Practice." 'This "Practice," a word used for want Of a better one~ includes fur-ther explanations, applications, comments and exhortations. In them occur such expressions as: "Dear Reader," "which could bettei have been omitted. This book offers no surprises for those who know their Actual Grace. "For others it has both limitations and "advantages. The method adopted by the author limits the richness and power of pres-entation to which Actual Grace, or, for that matter, any doctrinal subject lends itself. On the other hand, the bbok is a simple and unmistakably clear explanationof fundamentals. As such it merits the highest rating. :It can serve as a valuable aid for individual study, for the prepa-ration of sermons and for teaching in High School and College. With its help, many more souls can come. to a fuller knowledge and appre-ciation of Actual Grace.-~L. A. CORESSEL, S.,J. HUMILITY OF HEART. By Father Caietan Mary Da Bergamo, Capuchin. Translated by Herbert Cardifial Vaughan. Pp. 211. The Newman Bookshop, Westminster, Maryland, 1944. $2.50. This book of 153 paragraphs contains "Thoughts and Senti-ments on Humility." Written in Italian by one who led the humble life of a Minor Capuchin, the book made a profound impression On Cardinal.Vaughan who, as we are told in the introduction, "For more than thirty years had known and studied ihat Work and it is scarcely an exaggeration" to say he .had afade ito during the last four-teen years of his life, his constant companion, his vade mecum." To the Cardinal we are indebted for the present excellent translation of Father Cajetan's treatise on humility. BOOK REVIEWS " Reaiew [or Religious The book is divided .into six chapters. The first of these gives us a clear idea of. humility, its necessity, its excellence and its motives and arouses in us a fervent desire to practise it. In the four succeeding chapters we have treatises on apractical examen on the virtue of humility, humility towards God, towards our neighbor, and towards oneself. Finally, there is the chapter "Moral Doctrine on the Vice of. Pride and the best Us~ to be made:of the Practical-Examen." " Each of the 153 .paragraphs furnishes ample matter for one or more meditations. Containing sublime and practical reflections/the book shows Us how to obtain that humility of heart wherein "the soul," as Father Bernard Vaughan, S.J., tells us in his introduction, "will find a sovereign remedy for its many ills, a matchless balm its many wounds, while' a soul-beauty all its.own wilbspring up in

Issue 53.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1994. ; Christian Heritages and Contempora~ Living ~ JULY-AUGUST 1994 ¯ VOLUME: 5:3 . Nrt~MBER 4 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ Fax: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ° P.O. Box 29260 ¯ Washington, DC 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1994 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library client~ within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. review for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Joann Wolski Conn PhD Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1994 * VOLUME53 ¯ NUMBER4 contents 486 feature LeadErship a New Way: If Christ Is Growing in Us Janet K. Ruffing RSM proposes that a task of religious leadership is to integrate a personally appropriated Christ mysticism with historical consciousness and liberationist praxis in a way that is consonant with feminine experience. 498 5O7 traditions An Introduction to Orthodox Spirituality Peter J. SanFilippo presents the doctorine of theosis, the deification of the human person, as the heart of the ascetical spirituality of the Orthodox Church. Yoga, Christian Prayer, and Zen Ovey N. Mohammed SJ compares the praxis of contemplation in yoga and Zen Buddhism with Christian prayer, especially the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola. 524 The Ignatian Spiritual Exercises and Jesuit Spirituality Frederick E. Crowe SJ presents an understanding of St. Ignatius's Spiritual Exercises that distinguishes them from Jesuit spirituality while clarifying their relationship to Jesuit spirituality or any other kind. 534 The Suscipe Revisited Joan Mueller OSF explores various applications of the Ignatian prayer "Take and receive" within the dynamic of the Spiritual Exercises. 544 holiness The Cross Yesterday and Today Robert P. Maloney CM presents a synthesis of the understanding of the cross in the spirituality of Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac in the light of contemporary theology. 482 Revieva for Religious 560 568 Fascination with the Holy--and Conversion Annette M. Pelletier IHM postulates a fascination with the holy which justifies religious life and which demands a response of conversion. Merton's Spirituality of Place Wayne Simsic explains the importance of stability of place as an anchor for spiritual growth in the writings of Thomas Merton. 584 prayer and direction The Future of Spiritual Direction Tad Dunne raises eight issues which need to be addressed if spiritual direction is to be an effective ministry in the church. 591 A Vision Revision about Distractions Harold F. Niedzwiecki OFM points out that a way of integrating prayer and our daily routine is to see God in our environment as well as beyond it. 597 6O5 ministry formation Nonviolence and Christian Moral Responsibility Pa~ricia McCarthy CND presents nonviolence as so integral to Jesus' way of life that it takes its place as a part of Christian moral responsibility. Holy Land Pilgrims and Ministry to Them Anne Hennessy CSJ makes some helpful suggestions for Catholic pilgrims to the Holy Land at~d identifies four situations .dxich call for ministry attention. 617 report Santo Domingo Assembly: An LCWR/CMSM Report departments 484 Prisms 622 Canonical Counsel: Religious and Human Promotion 629 Book Reviews a~ly-August 1994 483 prisms L its spring meeting, the Review for Religious Advisory Board raised some concerns that we hope interested writers might explore in future arti-cles. For example, there remains much interest in and rea-son for writing about charism. Besides the fundamental norm of gospel discipleship around Christ, the founders or inspirers of various consecrated lifeforms, their personal history and example, the original rule of life, and the spe-cial founding charism are still the essential sources for contemporary renewal. Often we image the charism spe-cial to each religious foundation as something that we have to recover in its original purity if we are to move forward while being true to ourselves. Yet many religious groups seem to have experienced that a return to such a pristine notion, of a founding charism may not be the most effective road to' renewal. When relig!ous men and women--after, in many instances, arriving in the United States from European foundations--received some of their formation from the needs and ethos of this land, some incarnate charisms began to look quite different from their European form. For example, monastic foundations, especially of women, were so drawn out into educational or other service areas that the actual lived grace (the charism) evident in the members' lives took a different cast. Certain aspects of monastic spirituality were blended into the later spiritu-alities called apostolic. Sometimes the blending was less like a healthy grafting than like two plants sharing the same pot. When Vatican II called for a return to the sources, some North American religious may have been too quick to seek a purity of charism instead of examining 484 Review for Religious the grafting or the twinned growth that distinctly showed life, however poorly understood or oddly proportioned. We would seem to have a good number of religious congregations that might better be described as having a "blended charism" of a couple spiritual traditions rather than the purity of, say, a Benedictine, Franciscan, or Jesuit charism. Perhaps part of the frustration of renewal is a religious group's attempt to identify a charism by its root rather than by its stalk, leaves, and full flowering evident in their lives. We believe that phenomena like.these might be prof-itably explored. Along the same line, articles which briefly explain how our various spiritual heritages respond to contemporary living have great interest for many people. Back in the early fifties, Review for Religious printed six or eight articles of this kind. The time appears ripe for a similar series. Another area that might bear examination is the apparent paralleling of 50- and 60-year-old Catholics being the active, committed parishioners and religious in contrast with the 20-, 30-, and even 40-year-old Catholics being "affiliative" persons (less flatteringly, "supermarket" Catholics and religious) picking and choosing among the prac-tices which incarnate our faith and its counterpart, religious life. We also might want to pursue these questions. Given min-istry's growing professionalization, do we need to examine more carefully the importance of an intimacy in the Christian-ministry relationship in place of "client-centered" imaging? When is incul-turation a surrender to a culture's racist, sexist, or otherwise dis-torted values, and when is it a demonstration of respect for a heritage that is opening itself to Christian values? At our April meeting we welcomed Brother David Werthmann CSSR to the Advisory Board. He has served as novice director for the Redemptorist provinces of the western United States for six years and as a member of the national board for the National Assembly of Religious Brothers (1987-1993). He is now director of Vincent House, an in-home volunteer program serving per-sons living with AIDS in St. Louis, Missouri. He is a contribut-ing author to the recently published book Blessed Ambiguity: Brothers in the Church. Our appreciation and gratitude go with Brother Se~n Sammon FMS, a founding member of the Board, as he begins service as vicar general of the Marist Brothers in Rome. ¯ David L. Fleming sJ .~ly-Aug.ust 1994 485 feature JANET K. RUFFING Leadership a New Way: If Christ Is Growing in Us As Americans we tend to privatize our religious expe-rience. Because we are schooled by our democratic and pluralistic society to conceal from public discourse the compelling religious vision and experiences that motivate us, some leaders of religious communities carry this reti-cence over into their role in community. In addition, some come from ethnic backgrounds which presume a bedrock of faith, but discourage talking about it. Leaders vary in their ability to express in their lives the faith by which they live. On the other hand, the entire purpose and meaning of religious life is to help those called to it to focus their lives totally on God. For apostolic communi-ties this response to G6d's call is accomplished through the love of our neighbor in compassionate service as well as through contemplation and a lifestyle organized to sus-tain this commitment. . Although the religious dimension of leadership is often neglected,, religious life itself is always and only a work of the fiery Spirit that inspires, empowers, and energizes our free response to this grace. The reflections on power and empowerment in the first part of this article show that one gift women religious offer the church in our pres- Janet K. Ruffing RSM is associate professor in spirituality and spiritual direction in the Graduate School of Religion and REligious Education at Fordham University. The first part of this article, "Women, Power, and Authority," appeared in our May- June 1994 issue. Her address is GSRRE, Fordham University; 441 E. Fordham Road; Bronx, New York 10458-5169. 486 "Review for Religious ent transition is the clear movement in many communities toward a communal life shared by equal disciples who are seeking to r~spond to God's leading. This evolution of empowering author-ity in religious life could indeed be a sign of hope to contempo-rary women. If religious life for women is a means for supporting our total transformation so that Christ be formed in us, it will institutionalize itself in ways that genuinely respect and nurture the deepest possibilities of our femi-nine discipleship. Following Caryll Houselander's words, we can say, "If Christ is growing in us,''~ we will be at peace because where we are Christ is. The entire context in which we seek to live this discipleship has changed. It is a time of chaos and new creation. God's. Spirit broods over these waters. Are we paying attention to these move-ments in our midst? Do leader-ship teams spend time reflecting together on what is happening in themselves, in their members, and in the various groups in the community that reveals what God is doing in their midst? How are sisters understanding themselves in the light of their central dedication to God in Christ? How are they being impelled in ministry? What do they describe as impeding or deflecting them from this central core of the religious-life project? What are the resistances of leaders to some new things? What are the group's resistances to or struggles with ongoing conversion? I believe that paying attention to such'questions is important for religious leadership. Leaders, consciously or not, nonverbally express in decisions and actions their operative vision of religious life, their sense of who God is, their Christology, and their atti-tude toward the women they lead. These are all interconnected. If a leader believes she is diminished in her personhood because God wills her to be powerless and dependent on external author-ity, her behavior will conform to that belief. If she believes that authentic discipleship of Jesus requires members to be compli- Leaders nonverbally express in decisions and actions their operative vision of religious life, their sense of who God is, their Christology, and their attitude toward the women they lead. ~uly-August 1994 487 Ruffing ¯ Leadership a New IVay ant to all requests, she will attempt to secure such compliance. If she believes the majority of members to be selfish and individ-ualistic in their choices, she will find this amply documented. However, if she expects discipleship of Jesus to lead to creative ini-tiatives, release of energy for mission, resistance to injustice, growth in compassion, and a deeply contemplative gaze at expe- ¯ rience, she will Welcome such creativity and action and notice its contemplative interiority. If leaders are not both conscious and critical of the theology they embody in their leadership style, they will fail to recognize how religious faith is functioning within the dongregation. I believe, and the research bea~s this out, that religious lead-ership is more than being conscious of and setting an example of grass-roots theology. The Nygren-Ukeritis study found not only that outstanding leaders of religious congregations were them-selves firmly grounded in their religious experience, but also that they demonstrated an ability to "find and express., the spiritual significance in everyday affairs." The study found, too, that out-standing leaders of religious congregations put greater reliance on God than other members do; generally the male leaders think of God as a "source of support," and the female leaders, as a "source of direction and energy." Further, the interviews showed that in "the spontaneous recounting of their experiences the out-standing leaders more frequently cite instances of actions consis-tent with the religious theory they would espouse." In the judgment of the researchers, these leaders "communicated a gen-uine awareness of God's presence in their lives" and acted accord-ingly. 2 The study concludes that organizations will survive only if their leaders can articulate the founding purpose in contempo-rary idioms and respond to pressing needs. We are experiencing a profound theological reinterpretation of religious life in the light of rapidly changing circumstances. For numerous reasons entire congregations find considerable dif-ficulty in coalescing around a new vision. While some members are stuck in the old paradigm, others propose only a limited view of the new reality. All of us act on old habits of thought and behav-ior. Leaders are reluctant to quench new initiatives since it is rarely clear which one might be leading to the future. Leaders also resist taking initiatives themselves since they are convinced these initiatives need to come from the group. Much of this can be described as a conflict of interpretations or a conflict of per- 488 Revietv for Religious spectives. The FORUS study recognizes that leaders strongly affect the outcomes of such conflicts. "Leaders can have a strong impact on the outcome of the conflict between perspectives. If they sup-port only one perspective, they are likely to decrease the creativ-ity of the transformational process and the active involvement of members whose perspectives are not taken into account . If they enable conflicting perspectives to interact with each other, they will increase the chances of paradoxical transformations, of new and creative shared understandings that emerge from the interaction of the competing perspectives.''3 It is a function of religious leadership to notice and articulate to the community the religious dimension of experience. This includes the team's view of affairs, but also that of the other mem-bers. If the group is assembled, leadership leads by creating an atmosphere in which conflicting perspectives can meet one another and be modified by the dialogue. If the group is not assembled, leadership needs to reflect the range of perspectives and call the group to respond to a religious vision that can be accommodated within this range. I am describing a form of grass-roots theological reflection in which leaders of communities keep before the consciousness of the group a way of sharing the religious heart of their shared reli-gious life. This is a delicate and important task, not just a form of pious exhortation, It requires careful listening, schooled in expe-rience, for what God is actually doing in the group. What form is discipleship taking? How well is it grounded in Scripture and in a sense of who Jesus is? Members will welcome this discourse if it is objective, respectful, and truthful. If this reality can be spo-ken of in narrative or thematic ways, it can foster into the future a sense of shared life, shared goals, and shared commitments. It can build the theological bridges for understanding one another and for a new form of co(porateness. The First Epistle of Peter describes s.omething of this pro-cess: "Venerate Christ in your hearts. Should anyone ask the rea-son for this hope of yours, be ever ready toreply, but speak gently and respectfully" (1 P 3:15-16). Such accounts of the hope that animates us draw the community together around its most central identity. Far more than they do, leaders need to concern them-selves with helping communities to do such spiritual accounting together if religious life is to move through this transitional and transformative time. j~uly-/lugust 1994 489 Ruffing ¯ Leadership a New Way Christological Models While the FORUS study highlights the singular impor-tance of the faith dimension in religious leadership, it neglects to examine in any significant way the content of faith, specifi-cally our understanding of Jesus. Since the conciliar teaching on religious life emphasized that gospel discipleship is the funda-mental norm for religious life, how we individually and commu-nal! y understand our following of Jesus constitutes the religious heart of our vocation. We live religious life in quite different ways with each new interpretation of our faith in Jesus. To help our reflection on the practical following of Christ in religious life, I propose three models of Christology that are oper-ative in contemporary communities. Although oversimplified, these three models might be described as an ahistorical/mystical model, a historical/liberationist model, and a feminist model.4 The ahistorical/mystical model is the largely monophysite Christology that preceded the council and informed much of the 19th-century spirituality many founders lived. In this Christology the one thing we are absolutely certain about is the divinity of Jesus, hence the term monophysite, meaning one nature. The one divine nature managed to obscure the other half of the Chalcedonian definition, namely, Jesus' human nature. Spiritual writers and meditation books emphasized a one-to-one relation-ship with Jesus. Greater emphasis was placed on the hidden life and the passion than on either the public ministry or the resur-rection. Few Catholics, including religious, actually read or med-itated on the texts of Scripture but rather used devotional manuals. The focus of these meditations was the interior attitudes of Jesus in his humiliation and suffering-=humility, obedience, suffering, patience, love, meekness, and so forth. The follower of Christ was to imitate these virtues in order to achieve holiness and to enter into the mysteries of Jesus. These meditations usually had a strong trinitarian flavor. Since Christ was God, the desired atti-tudes were adoration, reverence, and docility before the Mystery. The meditator was drawn into the Trinity itself through the mys-teries of incarnation and redemption. Frequently, the image of God the Father was rather harsh-- a just God who demanded the blood reparation of his Son for humanity's sin. Apostolic religious life in this model usually meant long hours of devotional prayers, use of a meditation manual, and the imitation of the virtues or inner states of Jesus in common 490 Review for Religious life and in ministry. What mattered was increasing conformation to the Christ mystery through prayer and virtue. Obedience and humility were valued over activity and originality. Obedience to superiors and the rule was equated with obedience to God's will. Just as the understanding of Jesus in this model failed to honor Jesus' human reality as much as his divine reality, so too this kind of Christology often led to a neglect of our own humanity and a loss of a sense of the sacra-mentality of human life. In many communities, women were not respected as individuals with differing gifts, histories, and abilities and were not encouraged to care for them-selves appropriately. Since this form of relationship to the Christ mystery was entirely inte-rior and ahistorical, it did not really matter what we did in our world so long as we did it with the proper interior attitudes. This Christology supports the consecration model of religious life. Consecrated to an intimate relationship with Christ, religious are set apart from mundane secular life by cloister, rule, and garb and seek the one thing necessary, namely, progressive contemplative assimilation to the Christ mystery. Much still remains valid in this Christology, especially the way in which Jesus does lead us into the deeper mystery of the Trinity. To become intimate with Jesus, to participate in his life does cultivate in us an entirely different perspective on reality. We are opened to transcendence; we discover the deepest reality of ourselves in the love which comes to us from the Divine Mystery. We never exhaust the need to penetrate to ever deeper levels of the divine and of our own graced reality. The second model is the historical/liberationist model. As one wave of Christology at the time of the council broke over our consciousness, we began to appreciate more clearly the full humanity of Jesus. As Elizabeth Johnson puts it, "if God became a human being, then it is very important to see what kind of human being God became.''5 This led to a full appreciation not only of Jesus' human experience, but of our own as well. As schol- To become intimate with Jesus, to participate in his life does cultivate in us an entirely different perspective on reality. ~uly-August 1994 491 Ruffing ¯ Leadership a New Way ars recovered more and more of the actual history of Jesus and the movement which he inspired, focus turned to a close examina-tion of his ministry, death, and resurrection. Jesus not only talked about the kingdom of God, but actually made it present in the way he was with people, by what he said and did. He embodied the reality of God in his concrete human history. When we began to contemplate this part of the story, we discovered incredible things. It became apparent that Jesus favored the poor, the marginalized, the outcasts. Women were a primary group among his disciples, and he seemed to enjoy their company. Jesus appreciated embod-ied life and drew most of his parables from nature and from com-mon human experience. The kingdom of God was already in our midst. For apostolic religious life the implications were significant. Much of the four Gospels was about Jesus' ministry--which gave us a clue about how we are to be in ministry. It became apparent that Jesus was killed because of the choices he made and what he said in his ministry. As Jesus expressed it, love is more important than law. The law was made for human benefit, not to oppress people. God's will is for abundant life, fullness of life as John's Gospel puts it; God's primary attribute is compassion rather than judgment. When Jesus was killed for upsetting the religious authorities of his day, God validated his ministry and his teaching by not allowing sin and evil to have the last word, but by raising him from the dead.6 As this reflection on Jesus' lived history continued, liberation theology began to develop among poor and oppressed peoples. Drawing on the choices Jesus made in his ministry to share life with the poor and to offer wholeness and liberation to the oppressed, poor and oppressed Christians added social critique and praxis to Christology. Thus, liberation Christologies begin in the context of the suffering of a particular oppressed group. The process of this reflection is communal. Oppressed people come together to reflect on their situation, to pray, and to seek actions that will change things for the better. These actions become the subject for further reflection. Thus, thought and action are intertwined. Liberation theologies emphasize the social nature of sin and grace by reflecting on how the community experiences them within their social structures. These theologies also consider how God and Christ are present in the community as it struggles for 492 Review for Religious justice. Typically there are three steps to this method. A situa-tion is recognized to be oppressive, is called sinful, and is ana-lyzed for its causes, including the way Christian tradition has contributed to the oppression: Has there been complicity in the church and its preaching? Has Christ been understood in a way that is helpful to the oppressor? In this step, liberation tMology is quite critical of the tradition. In the third step, guided by the experience of the oppressed, Christian tradi-tion is searched for elements that would yield new understanding and a new liberating practice. In liber-ation theology, discipleship always entails a change in praxis--activity on behalf of the kingdom of God, judged to be more a present real-ity than an entirely future one. It is out of this theology that Medellin developed the notion of the preferential option for the poor. Massive injustice is analyzed as social sin and not as God's will. There is a mystical side to this Christology, but it is more a spiri-tuality of a people than of individuals. Faith influences base com-munities as they reflect on the Scriptures, the concrete situation of the poor, and action taken to address it. Frequently, when reli-gious espouse voluntary solidarity with the poor, they discover a new experience of God, experiencing Christ in the poor them-selves. Poor people become the ongoing occasion for conversion. Elizabeth Johnson notes that this. theology is also conflictual. The powers within either church or culture do not like to be chal-lenged. To act and live in solidarity with the poor is to risk cer-tain conflict even as Jesus did in his ministry. In this Christology there is less an imitation of the interior attitudes of Jesus than a willingness to accept the consequences of a liberating praxis. What differentiates solidarity with the poor, in this theological per-spective, from involvement with the poor in the earlier mystical model is concrete social analysis. Rather than simply relieving the poor in a loving way, one joins them in their struggle. Frequently, when religious espouse voluntary solidarity with the poor, they discover a new experience of God, experiencing Christ in the poor themselves. July-August 1994 493 Ruffing ¯ Leadership a New Way In the third model, a feminist Christology, we find similari-ties to the historical/liberation perspective. Feminist theology is liberation theology done from the perspective of women's expe-rience. It draws inspiration from the historical material about Jesus' compassionate healing and liberating treatment of women and a discipleship of equals among the men and women who fol-lowed him in the early community. Women clearly understand that their oppression in all cultures is not willed by God. The same steps of analysis and action and prayer as described above are applied to the situation of women. Feminist theology in first-world countries recognizes the resources in Christology for women's liberation.7 The Jesus tradition is a powerful and important spiritual resource for Christian women in their struggle for full participa-tion and personhood in church and society. Feminist theologians in third-world countries pay attention to the situation of women everywhere. The God Jesus reveals cannot be hostile to the deep-est reality of women; women as well as men are fitting images of this God. Likewise, women disciples of Jesus are images of Christ, are every bit as much "altera Christa" as men are "alter Chrisms." Women recognize their suffering and oppression reconciled, healed, and overcome in the death and resurrection of Jesus fully as much as other oppressed groups. Women in religious communities probably lie along the entire continuum of these three Christologies. For some, their rela-tionship with Jesus is primarily a mystical/interpersonal one that has not been significantly changed by reflection on the actual his-torical situation of Jesus' life. Others have deeply appropriated this historical perspective and have assimilated it to their mysti-cal experience of Jesus. The Jesus they meet in prayer is the embodiment of God's compassion. To be involved with him is to be involved with all who suffer. If the FORUS study is correct in its conclusion that service with the poor is not a fully operative priority in communities, it is because a significant portion of the membership has not made the historical/liberation turn. Religious life is constructed on the dominant understanding of what the following of Christ entails in a given historical period. The larger church--both ordinary parishioners and the hierarchy--is more comfortable with religious doing good work motivated by a mys-tical Christology than it is with a stance of prophetic solidarity based on either a liberationist model or a feminist Christology. 494 Review for Religious Feminist Christologies are arising all over the world because even countries that began to address the structural causes of poverty were doing so from the perspective of men rather than women. As worldwide statistics on women become available, it is clear that in every culture women (with their children) constitute the masses of poor people and suffer additionally purely because of their gender. Religious institutes whose originating charisms focused on women and children can reappropriate those charisms in the contemporary context by adopting some form of Christian feminism.8 This is the development our constitutions and chap-ter statements document, but I suspect that they are not fully internalized because our operative Christologies have not yet caught up with them. Religious life has historically been lived longer from the mystical model, which did not necessarily entail apostolic life. Further, religious life has also been lived by women in contexts determined by masculine consciousness and explained in theologies rooted in masculine experience. As apostolic reli-gious and as women, our challenge is to integrate a personally appropriated Christ mysticism with historical consciousness and liberationist praxis in our postmodern context in a way that is fully consonant with our feminine experience. These are the Christologies that support both a prophetic and a contemplative religious life for women. Conclusion In her theological monograph commissioned by the FORUS study, Elizabeth Johnson points to what she calls a "new experi-ence of God emerging in the context of postmodern conscious-ness." The paradoxical experience so many of us have of presence in absence, the loss of familiar ways of experiencing God, and the emergence of something deeper or different are all of a piece. She asserts that a shift is going on in our understanding of the nature of God revealed to us in Jesus. In this essay I have described some of these changes through a Christological lens. However, these changes in Christology also initiate changes in our experi-ence of God. Johnson describes the features of this new experience this way: If there be a God at all, then this is absolute holy mystery that can never be fathomed. Not literally a male person writ large, the sacred can be pointed to by any created good: .~-uly-/lugust 1994 495 Ruffing * Leadership a New Way male, female, animal, cosmic. This mystery does not dwell in isolation from the world but encompasses it as the Matrix of its being and becoming. God in the world and the world in God--panentheism--describes the mutual relation. Thus related, the Holy One of Blessing is a God of pathos who participates in the suffering of the world in order to trans-form it from within. Divine power is the strength of love, rather than raw, monarchical omnipotence. Passionate for justice and peace and compassionate over pain, Holy Wisdom typically self-reveals in the fragmentary break-throughs of well-being that come about through human partnership with divine purpose. Forever God acts to cre-ate a fresh, new future: liberation is her signature deed. A God like this calls for an ethic of critical compassion. We are impelled so to utter the word of God that the world will be changed and renewed by it. She goes on to describe this experience of divine absence and presence as: an experience of the Spirit of God: radically transcendent, like the wind blowing where it will; and at the same time radically immanent, dwelling at the heart of the world to vivify and renew all things. Empowered by the Spirit in our age, people of faith who treasure the living memory of Jesus seek the hidden God of life (contemplation) and live out the passion of God for the world in need (prophecy).9 Rather than a return to the old securities that would quench the fiery Spirit moving in our midst, we need more profound prayer, more attentive listening to the experience of God break-ing through in our midst, and acting from its liberating energy toward a more just, more contemplative, and more novel future. One of the tasks of religious leadership is to contribute to this new naming of God in ways that unite contemplation and prophecy, compassion and action, women's well-being and that of the earth, nonviolence and conflictual change. This task can-not be accomplished without thinking theologically as well as psychologically, without the courage to articulate one's own core religious experience and that of the community, without a sus-taining hope grounded in God's faithfulness. Whatever the even-tual shape of the next form of religious life, it will both emerge from and disclose this new experience of God. It is the task of religious leaders to tell the new story of the surpassing gift of God's fidelity, love, and emancipating compas-sion. It is the task of leaders to uncover the foundational experi- 496 Review for Religious ence of God in every woman in the community and in every inter-action with one another. Religious leaders must forge a new vocab-ulary of the Spirit's presence that honors everyone's experience of God and also points to the "new experiences" emerging in our times and in many of our members. If religious life clearly man-ifests this profound rootedness in the Holy Mystery, "all will be well and all manner of things will be well.''1° Notes ' Lavinia Byrne, ed., The Hidden Tradition: Women's Spiritual Writings Rediscovered. An Anthology (New York: Crossroad, 1991), p. 23. 2 David Nygren, Miriam Ukeritis, John McClelland, et al., "Religious Leadership Competencies," Review for Religious 52, no. 3 (May-June 1993): 412. 3 Nygren and Ukeritis, "The Religious Life Futures Project: Executive Summary," Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 11. Interpretation theory also suggests a similar process by bringing the pos-sible interpretations together in dialogue, to arbitrate among, and to seek agreement. Paul Ricoeur, Interpretation Theory: Discourse and the Surplus of Meaning (Fort Worth: Texas Christian University Press, 1976), p. 79. 4 For a readable survey of these contemporary changes in Christology see Elizabeth Johnson, Consider Jesus: Waves of Renewal in Christology (New York: Crossroad, 1991). 5 Johnson, Consider Jesus, p. 50. 6 Albert Nolan, Jesus before Christianity (Maryknoll: Orbis, 1992), is still the most accessible form of this insight into Christology. Originally published in 1976, it is being superseded by John Meier's and Dominic Crossan's recent works, A Marginal Jew and The Historical Jesus. 7 See Elizabeth Johnson, She Who Is (New York: Crossroad, 1992) and Consider Jesus, for ample bibliography of feminist theologies. 8 For an example of this process, see Janet Ruffing and Theresa Moser, "An Option for Women?" Way Supplement 74 (Women and Ignatian Spirituality in Dialogue, summer 1992): 89-100. 9 Elizabeth Johnson, "Between the Times: Religious Life and the Postmodern Experience of God," Review for Religious 53, no. 1 (January- February 1994): 22 and 23-24. 10 Julian of Norwich, Showings of Divine Love. .)~uly-August 1994 497 PETER J. SANFILIPPO An Introduction to Orthodox Spirituality traditions Editor's Note: Out of respect for his religious heritage, the author retains man and masculine reference when the theological roots of Orthodox faith and the tradi-tional expressions of its writers are being reflected. The Orthodox Church knows no dichotomy between her theology, spirituality, liturgy, use of Scripture, and even her iconography. The church experiences all these as inseparable components in an organic whole, which have as their common matrix a doctrine which stands at the very center of her ecclesial consciousness: theosis, the deification of man (for the inclusive meaning of the term man, see Gn 5:2, RSV) and, with him, of the whole created cosmos. Contemplating the masters of the incarnation, St. Irenaeus of Lyons wrote in the 2nd century that "God became what we are so that we could become what he is." This reached its ultimate conclusion two centuries later in the writings of St. Athanasius the Great, champion of orthodoxy at the anti-Arian Council of Nicaea in A.D. 3 2 5 and later archbishop of Alexandria: God became man so that man could become God/ Father Peter SanFilippo, ordained in 1988, is the founding pastor of St. Stephen the First Martyr parish in Roblin, Manitoba, Canada, where he resides with his wife, Joann, and their four children. He studied theology at St. Vladimir's Orthodox Theological Seminary in New York. His address is P.O. Box 1397; Roblin, Manitoba R0L 1P0; Canada. 498 Review for Religious This is not to be confused with the Buddhist ~oncept of nir-vana, according to which complete union with the Transcendent ends in the annihilation of self. The goal of Buddhist spiritual-ity is sometimes described by means of an analogy in which a man made of sand progresses by stages into the ocean until he disintegrates, entirely swallowed up and ceasing to exist as him-self. In the final analysis, this is a hopelessly pessimistic spiritu-ality, for its aim is not the salvation but the destruction of the human person. On the contrary, the spiritual doctrine of theosis represents a powerful affirmation of the innate goodness of the human person as a whole--in the composite, trinitarian nature of spirit, soul and body--created in the image of God. Theosis neither obliter-ates nor even diminishes anything that belongs to human nature or human personhood: in other words, what I am and who I am. It is rather the eschatological manifestation of the children of God, experienced by degrees as a foretaste in this present life. This raises three points which require elaboration: 1. The Platonizing tendency borrowed by classical Western theology to regard man as a soul created in the image of God, "imprisoned" in a body which it longs to shed, is foreign to Orthodox theology. The inadequacy of this philosophical schema is that only a "part" of man (his soul) is thought to possess the divine image and to be destined for immortality, while the other "part" (his body) is bereft of that image, ultimately valueless and irreversibly mortal. This is not to say that certain writers in the Christian East did not lend prestige to such notions from time to time. But in the end they were condemned as a departure from the church's more holistic scriptural tradition. Orthodox theo-logical anthropology postulates the human person as a harmo-niously ordered, inseparable unity of spirit, soul and body, all of which participate in the image of God, all of which were created for eternal life, and all of which are engaged in the process of theosis. Death and the separation of the soul from the body are unnatural to man as God created him. 2. What is destroyed in the process of theosis is neither humanhood nor personhood, but sin. The patristic heritage of the East, in its assertion of the inherent holiness of all that is authentically human, does not view sin as intrinsic to, but contrary July-August 1994 499 SanFilippo ¯ An Introduction to Orthodox Spirituality to, human nature. Paradoxically, the deification of man reveals most brilliantly all that is genuinely human. 3. Theosis begins and is experienced in this present life, while its full manifestation awaits the resurrection on the last day. Theologians have debated for years whether eschatology is pres-ent or future and have even posited the two as if they were not the same reality. The late Father Georges Florovsky, eminent Orthodox theologian and author, merged the two concepts as they ought to be by coining the phrase "inaugurated eschatology": "Thou hast endowed us [already] with Thy kingdom which is to come" (from the Eucharistic canon of St. John Chrysostom). The deification of man does not add persons to the Holy Trinity so that God ceases to be Trinity and becomes "Multiplicity"! While man is admitted to full participation in divine life, he does not become "worshipable," for God remains eternally immutable in the divine essence. We begin to comprehend the nature of this mystery, if only imperfectly and in images, by bearing in mind St. Athanasius's maxim that the incarnation of God and the deification of man are reciprocal movements. According to the doctrinal formulation of the Council of Chalcedon (A.D. 451) on the incarnation, the divine-human union in the person of the Son was accomplished with neither division nor confusion (or mingling), each of the two natures preserving the fullness of its properties and attributes intact and undiluted. This means that no hybridization or cross-breeding has taken place in the incarnation of Christ, while at the same time the union of the human nature with the divine in his person remains perfect, complete, and uni.mpeded. This sheds some light by analogy on our understanding of theosis. However, a critical distinction must be drawn between the incarnation and deification: God became man by nature, while man becomes God not by nature but solely by participation or by grace. This is why the Scripture refers to Christ as the "only-begotten" (or only "natural") Son of God, and to us as children of God "by adoption." Theosis begins neither at conception nor at birth, for the fall has rendered man incapable of attaining the divine destiny for which he was created. Something more is needed to set him on his 500 Review for Religiot~s way, and that is rebirth in the waters of baptism: "Amen, amen, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God" On 3:5). Baptism in the Orthodox Church, from the elaborate blessingof the water to the actual immersion, unfolds as a liturgical reenactment of creation which effects, not so much the juridical removal of the stain or guilt of original sin, but the total re-creation of the human person: a rebirth in the profoundest sense of the word, a putting off of the old man and putting on of the new, a mystical dying and rising with Christ in order to "walk in newness of life" towards the eter-nal destiny for which we were created. The white robe prescribed in most baptismal rubrics is com-monly taken to symbolize the virtues, or the virtuous life, to which the neophyte has been called, as if Christ had come for no other purpose than to produce well-behaved people. The Orthodox baptismal liturgy contains a rubric of immense importance for our topic, the full significance of which is nearly always over-looked: while the newly baptized is clothed with the white robe, the congregation, choir, or cantor sings: Grant unto me the robe of light, O most merciful Christ our God, who clothest Thyself with light as with a garment! The real meaning of the white robe, and indeed of baptism itself, is that God has come down from heaven and become incar-nate in order to clothe mortal human flesh in his divinity and immortality, the very "garment" in which he himself is "clothed" from all eternity (Ps 104:2). Immediately after the immersion and the putting on of the white robe, the Holy Spirit is conferred on the neophyte in the sacrament of chrismation (confirmation in the West). This is pos-sible because, in the Orthodox East, the administration of chris-mation has always been delegated to the priest and has never required the presence of the bishop (the consecrated chrism is supplied by the bishop, however). Baptism completes in each per-son what was inaugurated in the incarnation: human flesh is made receptive to the descent and .permanent indwelling of the Holy Spirit, received as a gift in chrismation as the firstfruits of deifi-cation and of the world to come. The Orthodox rites of initiation culminate finally in the Eucharist, in which the mystical union between God and man is SanFilippo ¯ An Introduction to Orthodox Spirituality consummated. The Eucharist is the summit of man's Godward ascent in this life, his fullest experience of deification as he becomes one with God, who became one with us, and the most perfect foretaste of the life to come: "Grant that we may more perfectly partake of Thee in the never-ending day of Thy king-dom" (from the prayer after Communion). (The Orthodox Church administers chrismation and Communion even to infants as soon as they are baptized.) The church expects iconographers to undertake their work in an atmosphere of prayer and fasting, together with confession and Communion. There is a cosmic dimension to all we have spoken of here. St. Paul writes that "the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. because the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and obtain the glorious liberty of the children of God. We know that the whole creation has been groaning in travail together until now" (Rm 8:19-22). In another place he writes that God was pleased "to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven" (Col 1:20). Since the whole created order participated in the fall of man, it likewise awaits and shares in his redemption, being transfigured into the new heaven and the new earth filled with Christ, who makes all things new through the Holy Spirit. In the eucharis-tic canon of the liturgy, immediately pre-ceding the actual consecration of the gifts, the celebrant exclaims, "Thine own of Thine own we offer unto Thee, on behalf of all men and for all things"! Orthodox theology recognizes the intrinsic sacramentality of all things, which was lost however as a consequence of the fall. All things were given by God as an act of loving and life-giving communion with man, and in communing with God man was to have lived forever. But because of the cosmic reper-cussions of the fall, created things were stripped of their capacity to communicate eternal life to man, and he died. The holy mys-teries, or sacraments, are the firstfruits of the redemption of the cosmos, the restoration of creation to its Edenic function, for 502 Review for Religious through ordinary elements--water, oil, bread, wine, and even conjugal union--divine-human communion is reestablished and man lives forever once again. The connection between the sacra-ments and their respective "elements" is not at all extraneous: the sacraments are revelatory of the very nature of things. The restoration of created matter to its primeval theophorous (God-bearing) nature is manifested also in the church's iconog-raphy. The painting of an authentic Orthodok icon (much which is not authentic has crept into the church in recent centuries), unlike the typically Western, humanistic approach to religious art, is never an instance of artistic self-expression, but rather a deliberate act of ascetical self-effacement whereby the iconogra-pher surrenders himself to the promptings of the Spirit. The church expects iconographers to undertake their work in an atmo-sphere of prayer and fasting, together with confession and Communion. What is conveyed through the colors, shapes, and lines of the icon is a mystical Sense of presence, an otherworldly beauty devoid of all carnality, and a window into the transfigured world to come. The person embarking on the spiritual journey towards mys-tical union with God collides immediately with the grim reality of the fall and sin. The primordial triadic unity of man's nature has been torn asunder through his own transgression, creating an immense gulf of alienation on every level of existence: between man and God, man and man, man and the universe, man and his own self. This profound alienation is felt acutely in every sphere of life--whether spiritual, physical, emotional, psychological, social--culminating in the final horrific moment of death, what the existentialist ph!losophers have rightly called the "ultimate absurdity". "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" the Lord cries moments before his own de~ithl Perhaps nowhere are the full tragedy and pathos Of man's condition so poignantly expressed as in the shortest verse of the New Testament: "Jesus wept" (Jn 11:35). The God of the universe sheds human tears at the collective tomb of the human race, whom God had created in his own image for beauty and life, now reduced to a rotting, stink-ing corpse. And to all he issues the vivifying call: "Lazarus, come forth!" Orthodox spirituality lays out practically and concretely for monastic and laypersonalike a single path by which to "come j-~uly-August 1994 503 SanFilippo ¯ An Introduction to Orthodox Spirituality forth" from the "tomb" to the fullness of divine life in communion with God. The principle difference between the two lies solely in the degree of intensity. The path we are speaking of is that of asceticism. The "life in Christ" to which every Christian is called is essentially an ascetical life. There is simply no other kind of Christian life to be found in the Gospels. Asceticism comes from the Greek word meaning athletic training or discipline, implying the complete orientation of one's daily activities towards a single goal. It is neither a system of iuridically meritorious or propitiatory suffering, nor giving up something (usually something trivial) as "my sacrifice for God," nor finally a legislated (and repealable) religious obligation. Asceticism is rather an ontological spiritual necessity for the Christian, whose call it is to d~vest himself of every trace of ego-centrism and become limpidly transparent to Christ, whom he has put on in baptism, with whose Spirit he has been anointed, and on whose body and blood he has been nourished. The ascetic echoes the apostle Paul, "For me to live is Christ." Fundamental to the praxis of ascetical spirituality are prayer and fasting. At the heart of the Orthodox tradition of prayer stands the Jesus prayer: Lord ffesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner. With this the Orthodox ascetic strives to attain, by grace, to a state of "ceaseless prayer" (1 Th 5:17), purifying the chamber of his heart to make it into a fitting temple for the Lord to come and take up his abode. "The kingdom of God is within you." Enormous self-exertion is required at first to repeat the prayer continuously, during times set aside for this purpose and throughout the day's activities, with inner attentiveness. With time the prayer develops a certain cadence and becomes increas-ingly effortless. Finally, under the direct action of grace, the mind descends into the heart and the prayer begins to say itself, as if it had a will and action of its own, and becomes truly ceaseless, even during sleep. Orthodox spiritual writers understand the descent of the mind into the heart to mean the total reintegration of a per-son's inner faculties so that mind and heart become wholly united and focused in prayer. This is effected by grace alone and cannot be self-induced. In contrast to the Western approach to contemplative prayer, the person who practices the Jesus prayer rids his mind strenu-ously of all images, even images of Christ or episodes from his life, for these are inevitably the products of human self-will and imag- 504 Review for Religious ination. The task of the ascetic is to strip himself bare before God so that grace itself can act on him without intermediary. Fasting is the necessary corollary to prayer. This axiom of the spiritual life, widely recognized not only in Eastern Christendom but in non-Christian traditions as well, has van-ished oddly from Western Christian con-sciousness. In his fallen, unspiritual, and carnal state, man has become enslaved to an obses-sive preoccupation with his own needs, desires, comforts, and pleasures. His inner hierarchy, whereby the body is the servant of the spirit-- the two functioning in perfect harmony and complementarity--has been overturned and the spirit has been asphyxiated. Man is largely unconscious of the depth of his self-enslavement. The moral or virtu-ous person whose libido is under control and who lives moderately may even deny in all sin-cerity that he is enslaved at all. Yet every day of his life, his every thought is: "I am hungry. I am thirsty. I am hot. I am cold. I am uncomfortable. I want this. I want that." The deification of the person, inaugurated as we have said through his sacramental incorporation into the body of Christ, remains locked up within him as a dormant potentiality, in a state of suspended animation, so long as he is governed by his bodily impulses. There is question here not of combatting sinful incli-nations only, but of suppressing even normal bodily needs to the bare minimum, enabling a person's innermost spiritual self to move to the fore and flourish in an abundance of life, reasserting in stages its mastery over the flesh. Two heretical and spiritually disastrous tendencies threaten the ascetic. The first is the Pelagian notion that a person can, through his own efforts, achieve sanctity. Only through grace is a person saved, sanctified, deified. Prayer and fasting, combined with fidelity to all the other gospel commands, renders a person progressively more receptive to grace and provides the Holy Spirit with fertile ground in which to work. God and man work together to give birth to the new creation. Expressed in another way, "God does all the work, man does all the sweating." A person's most heroic ascetical efforts are puny and insignificant in comparison to the grace of God, but nevertheless indispensable because God At the heart of the Orthodox tradition of prayer stands the Jesus prayer. July-August 1994 505 SanFilippo ¯ An Introduction to Orthodox Spirituality respects human freedom absolutely and saves no one against his will. The idea of "merits" is entirely foreign to Orthodox theol-ogy and spirituality. The second is a Manichaean hatred of the body. The Orthodox ascetic, knowing that his body is destined for resur-rection on the last day, loves the body but hates "the flesh"--car-nality in all its manifestations. Through fasting the ascetic strikes a blow at the very core of his self-absorption: his need to eat, for food, for survival. "Man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God." The ascetic has made this the motto for his life, not through bourgeois modulation, but through evan-gelical radicalism, the "violence" by which "men of violence" take the kingdom "by force." Finally, it is through prayer and fasting that the ascetic lives out his days in anticipation of the eschato-logical parousia, so that he may not be found "eating and drink-ing and making merry" when the Lord returns in glory. "Behold, the Bridegroom comes at midnight," the church sings during the first days of Passion Week, "and blessed is the servant whom he shall find watchful." Fasting.degenerates into a flirtation with the demonic in the absence of humility. Humility is the refusal to let others know one is fasting, or to sit in judgment over those who do not fast, or to believe one is doing anything commendable or praiseworthy by fasting. Asceticism must be grounded in the unshakable conviction of one's utter nothingness before God and man. "Let us enter the season of the Fast with joy," the church sings on the eve of Great Lent. The ascetical Christian is the joy-ful Christian, for he has exchanged the fleeting happiness which comes from the things of this world for the joy and peace which surpass all understanding. 506 Review for Religious OVEY N. MOHAMMED Yoga, Christian Prayer, and Zen lSican Council II's Declaration on the Relationship of the ~" Church to Non-Christian Religions (Nostra aerate, §2), says that "in Hinduism men [and women] contemplate the divine mys-tery., through ascetical practices or deep meditation" and that Buddhism "teaches a path by which men [and women], in devout and confident spirit, can either reach a state of absolute freedom or attain enlightenment." And Pope John Paul II, speaking on Christian dialogue with Hindus and Buddhists on 21 June 1991, observed that "dialogue with the great religions of Asia recalls for us the universal value of self-discipline, silence, and contem-plation in developing the human person and in opening hearts to God and neighbor." ~ These statements focus, not on doctrines and theology, but on the praxis of contemplation that leads to direct religious experi-ence. They recognize that the dialogue between Christianity and Eastern religions must be of a different kind from that with Judaism and Islam, which centers on theological issues. And indeed, because Hindus and Buddhists emphasize the priority of experience over faith, a dialogue with them may well be impossi-ble without a dialogue on contemplative prayer. However, as the pope's observation seems to concede, the church today is ill prepared to enter into such a dialogue. For though contemplative prayer has enjoyed pride of place in the history of Christian spirituality, since the Reformation it has not Ovey N. Mohammed sJ is professor of systematic theology at Regis College. His address is Regis College; 15 St. Mary Street; Toronto, Ontario; Canada M4Y 2R5. ~ly-dugust 1994 507 Mohammed * Yoga, Christian Prayer, and Zen been a primary conscious emphasis in the church. The fear that claims to an immediate experience of God would diminish if not challenge the teaching authority of the church, the memory of the havoc that false mysticism had created in the past, and the scientism and rationalism of the 19th century that esteemed con-cepts and ideas rather than ineffable experience have all con-tributed to the church's emphasis on dogmas, duties, and prohibitions rather than on religious experience. Understandably, when by the turn of the century people were more and more reacting against the mere acceptance of dogma and were search-ing for a faith that is living and personal, the church had diffi-culty in meeting this need out of its own spiritual treasury. At this very juncture, yoga and Zen methods of meditation and exercises for entering the contemplative state became known in the West, beginning with the World Parliament of Religions held in Chicago in 1893. Because of the Christian interest in experience over doctrine, many began to turn to Eastern reli-gions for their contemplative education. By the time of the Second Vatican Council, even members of Catholic religious orders were in dialogue with yoga and Zen masters, not to convert them to the Christian religious outlook, but to learn attitudes and exercises which might be helpful to Christians in their own prayer life. The Jesuits were among those in religious orders who engaged in this dialogue on contemplative prayer because the spirituality of Ignatius of Loyola (1491-1556) also offers methods and tech-niques to those in search of a contemplative spirituality. Though much has been written by Jesuits on the dialogue with Zen,2 lit-tle has been written on the dialogue with yoga.3 This article com-pares the techniques of yoga and Zen Buddhism with Christian prayer, especially the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola. The aim is not only better understanding as dialogue demands, but also better ways of giving of the Exercises today, when the prac-tices of yoga and Zen have great appeal. It will be shown, too, that Zen methods of concentration which differ from those of Ignatius can be found in the Christian tradition. Yoga and Ignatius Etymologically, yoga is a Sanskrit word from the rootyuj (to hold fast, to bind together). In Hinduism it designates any asceti-cal technique or method of meditation.4 The rootyuj also governs 508 Review for Religious the Latin iugum, the Frenchjoug, and the English yoke as it appears in Matthew 11:29: "Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me." The word yoga, then, like the word yoke, connotes the need for discipline in the spiritual life.5 The techniques of yoga go back centuries before someone named Patanjali wrote his ~ga Sutras (Aphorisms), sometime between the 2nd century B.C. and the 4th century A.D. Hindus, however, acknowledge this work as the classical text on yoga. It also happens to be the exposition of yoga practices best known to Westerners. For both these reasons, then, we will rely on Patanjali's Yoga Sutras in our comparison of the techniques of yoga with those of the Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius.6 According to Patanjali, yoga is a means of controlling the mind and the senses (YS I, 2), and its purpose is to lead one to a suprasensory and extrarational experience of God (YS I, 1). Yoga includes a number of angas (members, elements). They can be regarded as stages through which one must progress if one is to reach one's goal: (i) various forms of abstention from evil-doing (yama), (2) various observances (niyamas), (3) posture (asana), (4) rhythm of respiration (pranayama), (5) withdrawal of the mind from sense objects (pratyahara), (6) concentration (dharana), (7) meditation (dhyana) and (8) enstasis (samadht), a state of consum-mate interiority that is at once stasis and transcendental con-sciousness.( YS II, 29).7 The first member or element (yama) introduces us to the need for purgation in the spiritual life and aims at freeing us from the evils of social sin. It consists of five abstentions: "from harming others, from falsehood, from theft, from incontinence, and from greed" (YS II, 30). These abstentions parallel the last five com-mandments God gave to Moses (Ex 20:13-17): "You shall not kill" (harm), "you shall not commit adultery" (incontinence), "You shall not steal" (theft), "You shall not bear false witness" (false-hood), and "You shall not covet., anything that is your neigh-bor's" (greed). Ignatius, too, introduces us to the purgative way (SE §10) when he states that exercitants should begin the Exercises with a consideration and contemplation of sin (SE §4). And, like Patanjali, he focuses on the social consequences of sin (SE §§45- 71) and on the commandments relating to it (SE §§238-243). Patanjali's second element (niyama) is also purgative, but cen-ters on personal sin. It involves five observances--"purity, con- ~dy-August 1994 509 Mohammed ¯ Yoga, Christian Prayer, and Zen tentment, mortification, study, and devotion to God" (YS II, 32)-- aimed at suppressing the egoistic tendencies that impede the gen-erous offering of ourselves to God. Ignatius, like Patanjali, expects exercitants to attack the roots of their personal sins by getting to know the slightest disorder in themselves. He expects them to desire "a deep knowledge of [their] sins and a feeling of abhorrence for them; an understand-ing of the disorder of [their] actions, that filled with horror of them, they may amend [their] life and put it in order" (SE §63). Toward this end he advises them to recall the sins of their past life (SE §56) and examine their conscience twice daily (SE §§25-31). Elsewhere he instructs exercitants to enter the Exercises "with magnanimity and generosity," offering God their "entire will and liberty" and the disposition of their person (SE §5). He insists that people "must keep in mind that in all that concerns the spir-itual life [their] progress will be in proportion to [their] surren-der of self-love, and of [their] own will and interests" (SE §189). Patanjali's third element is posture (asana). In the Hindu tra-dition posture refers to two things: the place where one chooses to meditate and the bodily position in which one meditates. The place where one meditates should be free from external distrac-tions. Patanjali does not say that one bodily position is better than another, but he does say that the body should be "firm and relaxed" (YS II, 46). The purpose of maintaining a fixed and com-fortable position is to realize a certain neutrality of the senses so that consciousness is no longer troubled by the presence of the body. The following passage from the Bhagavad Gita illustrates the meaning of posture common among Hindus: Let the athlete of the spirit ever integrate [him]self stand-ing in a place apart, alone, his thoughts and self restrained. . Let him set up for [him]self a steady seat in a clean place. . There let him sit and make his mind a single point; let him restrain the operations of his thought and senses and practice integration., to purify the self. [Remaining] still, let him keep body, head, and neck in a straight line, unmov-ing; let him fix his eye on the tip of his nose, not looking round about him . [There] let him sit., intent on Me. . ; then will he approach that peace., which subsists in Me (6:10-15).8 Ignatius, too, recognizes the need for solitude in meditation, making much of withdrawing from friends and acquaintances and 510 Review for Religious from worldly cares to make the soul more fit to approach and be united with God (SE §20). Like Patanjali he does not claim that any one bodily position is to be preferred during meditation, but he does say that one should find a comfortable position and remain in it (SE §76). He agrees with the Gita that the restraint of the eyes is helpful in meditation (SE §81). The fourth element is rhythmic breathing (pranayama). As Patanjali puts it, "After mastering posture, one must practice con-trol of one's breathing" (YS II, 49). He gave this instruction because our respiration is generally unrhythmic, and unrhythmic breathing can hinder the mind's repose. Moreover, since the mind and the body act and react upon each other, rhythmic breathing can bring calmness and concentration of mind (YS II, 53). Practice is very elaborate, but on the whole it aims at slowing the breath, making the inhalation and exhalation even, and reducing the amount of air required. Ignatius also recognizes the importance of rhythmic breathing as an aid to deepening concentration (SE §258). The fifth element of yoga is pratyahara, that state in which the senses abide within themselves (YS II, 54). V~hen one remains motionless, keeps one's eyes and attention fixed on a single point, and breathes rhythmically, the mind is invaded by fewer distrac-tions and becomes more and more concentrated and unified. According to Patanjali, to test one's ability to concentrate at this stage, one must listen to the positive and negative echoes of one's being; for even with the withdrawal of the senses from exter-nal stimuli, difficulties arise, most of them produced by the sub-conscious. The trouble arising from doubt is the most dangerous of the obstacles that bar the road to concentration. Doubt "may be motivated by greed, anger or self-interest" (YS II, 34); "men-tal illness, lack of enthusiasm, sloth, craving for sense pleasure, false perception . and failure to concentrate" (YS I, 30). These distractions are often accompanied by grief and despondency (YS I, 31). To overcome doubt, Patanjali recommends implanting the contrary thought: "To free from thoughts tl'iat distract one from yoga, thoughts of the opposite kind must be cultivated" (YS II, 33). Ign~itius also says that the senses must be brought under con-trol and turned inward. Like Patanjali he observes that difficulties in concentration at this stage come from the subconscious, because of our +raving for "sensual delights and gratifications" (SE §314), our "inclination to what is low and earthly" (SE §317), or "because we have been tepid, slothful, or negligent in our exercises of piety" .~ly-August 1994 511 Mohammed * Yoga, Christian Prayer, and Zen (SE §322). Like Patanjali he notes that these distractions are often accompanied by "anxiety, . sadness," and "fallacious reasonings" which disturb the soul (SE §315). To cope with these difficulties, Ignatius says that every effort should be made to plant the contrary thought: "If the soul chance to be inordinately attached or inclined to anything, it is very proper that it rouse itself by the exertion of all its powers to desire the opposite of that to which it is wrongly attached" (SE §16; also §155 and §157). Patanjali's sixth element of yoga is concentration (dharana) to remove distractions (YS I, 32). He defines concentration as the fixing of the mind on a single idea or object by trying to visual-ize it (YS III, 1). Visualization calls for the use of the senses and discursive reasoning to focus the mind and so make the object of concentration present. An Indian image illustrates his point: just as an elephant's trunk sways to and fro and reaches out for nearby objects until it is given an iron ball to hold, so the wavering mind will settle down if given something specific to focus on. Ignatius promotes mental concentration in a similar way, rec-ommending in the first or second prelude of almost every medi-tation that we fix in the mind some scene, real or imagined, and try to make it present by visualizing it (SE §§47, 65, 91,103, 112, 138, 151, 192, 202, 220, and 232). He frequently directs the exercitant not only to see, but also to hear, smell, taste and touch in the imagination what is taking place in the meditation (SE §§66ff, 92, 103, 106, 121ff, 143ff, and 194ff). In pondering the matter and significance of the particular meditation, like Patanjali he expects one to apply one's intellect, will, memory, imagina-tion, and reflective ability (SE ~§3, 77, 78, 130, 206, 209, etc.). As concentration deepens, we arrive at the seventh element of yoga called meditation (dhyana). Meditation sweetens the dryness of intellectual discrimination and calls forth the highest form of love. Patanjali defines it as an "unbroken flow of thought toward the object of concentration" (YS III, 2), in which discursive and notional knowledge begin to give way to an experiential and intu-itive mode of knowing. For Ignatius, too, there is a progressive deepening from the discursive mode of knowing to the nondiscursive and intuitive. As he explains in SE §50, for example, one practices rational reflection on the subject matter so that the will may move the affections to a way of knowing beyond the intellect. That is, a deeper and simpler interiority leads to higher spiritual percep- 512 Review for Religious tions and an experiential knowledge of the truth. That is the aim of all true meditation, for as Ignatius explains, "It is not much knowledge which fills and satisfies the soul, but rather the inte-rior understanding of and relish of the truth" (SE §2). When one has intensified the power of meditation to such an extent that the totality of one's consciousness is indistinguishable from the meaning of the idea or object of one's meditation, one has reached the eighth and final step of yoga, samadbi, which Christians regu-larly refer to as a mystical union with God (YS II, 45; III, 3; III, 11). This mystical union is a state of contempla-tion in which one encounters God directly in an experience that is ineffa-ble- beyond words, beyond thought, beyond all conceiving. For Ignatius, too, meditation should lead to a mystical union with God, who can be found in all things (SE §235); the soul embraces divine things without any intervening agency. He seems to imply that this state of soul is the supreme end of prayer when he refers to a soul find-ing its Creator and Lord in a "consolation without previous cause" (SE §330 and §336). There is "direct" contact; God inflames the soul with "his love and praise" (SE §15; also §20), enabling it to "taste the infinite sweetness of divinity" (SE ~124). Ignatius describes this state of soul in his famous letter to Sister Teresa Rejadell: It frequently happens that our Lord moves and urges the soul to this or that activity. He begins by enlightening the soul; that is to say, by speaking interiorly to it without the din of words, lifting it up wholly to his divine love and our-selves to his meaning without any possibility of resistance on our part, even should we wish to resist.9 Meditation sweetens the dryness of intellectual discrimination and calls forth the highest form of love. The letter's wordless experience ("without the din of words") means that it is an experience "without concepts," "without par-ticular objects of thought."1° In other words, the person who obtains this direct experience of God has an ineffable experience of the divine. Ignatius empha-sizes this point at the end of the letter to Sister Rejadell when he 3~uly-Augus't 1994 513 Mohammed ¯ Yoga, Christian Prayer, and Zen says: "We have touched on a matter which can hardly be dealt with in a letter, at least without a much longer treatment. Even then there could be matters that could better be felt than put into words, let alone written down in a letter." ~i In his Spiritual Diary he writes that his own mystical experience can be compared only with the speech or music of heaven.~2 As we have seen, the eight elements of yoga given by Patanjali are paralleled in Ignatian spirituality. Let us now bring Zen Buddhism into our discussion, highlighting the techniques of Zen which differ from those of Ignatius but can be found in the Christian tradition. Zen, Yoga, and Ignatius To better understand Zen Buddhism, it may be helpful to know something of its background. Siddhartha Gautama (563- 483 B.C.) was an Indian prince who lived in what is now Nepal. Finding that religious truth based on the authority of others was at best a secondhand truth that can be called into question by competing truth claims, he renounced his kingdom to find through direct religious experience a way of salvation that is beyond words and creeds. One day while meditating near Caya, which is south of the present city of Patna, he received enlight-enment and became the Buddha, the Awakened One. Having found what he was seeking, out of compassion he spent the rest of his life teaching others how they, too, could find the truth first-hand. His teaching spread widely through two schools of thought: Theravada, which favored withdrawing into a monastery to pur-sue the path, and Mahayana, which maintained that the path to enlightenment is as applicable in the world as in the monastery. Zen Buddhism belongs to the Mahayana school of Buddhism found in Japan. In fact, the very word Zen is the Japanese coun-terpart of the Chinese word ch'an, which in turn is a translitera-tion of the Sanskrit word dhyan.a, meaning the meditation that leads to enlightenment. Thus the roots of Zen reach back into yoga, with its discipline of mind and body and its practice of med-itation. 13 The Zen Buddhist method of finding enlightenment can be found in a concise r~sum~ as given by Siddhartha himself: "Do not what is evil. Do what is good. Keep the mind pure. This is the teaching of Buddha." 14 514 Review for Religious The first step of Zen, "Do not what is evil," centers on social sin and corresponds to the first element of yoga given by Patanjali and found also in Ignatius. Avoiding evil is spelled out in the Five Buddhist Precepts (Pancha Sila) in terms of five abstentions: from killing, stealing, lying, illicit sex, and intoxicants. These absten-tions remind us of the Old Testament commandments and empha-size that the climb to enlightenment begins with purgation.'s The second step of Zen, "Do what is good," centers on char-ity and also parallels the second step of Patanjali and Ignatius. In the Buddhist tradition, doing what is good may be described as the practice of brotherhood in thought, word, and deed or compared to the love and good works of St. Paul (1 Co 13:4-7). It is a personal attitude and is purgative, too, inasmuch charity calls for detach-ment in the generous offering of oneself for the good of others. The third injunction, "Keep the mind pure"--or, in less poetic imagery, to discipline and purify the mind--again shows the influ-ence of yoga. Stages three to five in Zen parallel stages three to five in Patanjali (posture, breathing, and withdrawal of the senses), though there are differences in details. Stages six to eight (con-centration, meditation, and enlightenment) are so closely related that they form a unity, but in our discussion they will be treated separately, as in our comparison of Ignatius and Patanjali. Buddha's third injunction recalls one of the beatitudes of Jesus, "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God" (Mt 5:8). Doubtless, St. Paul had some discipline in mind when he said, "Be transformed by the renewing of your mind" (Rm 12:2), and exhorted us to train ourselves in godliness (1 Tm 4:7). More con-cretely, Zen's third element, like Patanjali's, is posture and refers to the place where one chooses to meditate as well as to the bod-ily position in which one meditates. With respect to the place, one should select a quiet spot in which to sit. But with respect to the position of the body, one is not allowed--as in Patanjali and Ignatius--to experiment to find a position that is stable and relaxed. One should normally meditate while sitting. And whether one sits in the full-lotus position or the half-lotus, or on one's heels and calves, or on a chair, one should satisfy at least three requirements: keep the head and spine erect; lower one's gaze to a point a yard or so away without focusing on anything in par-ticular; and fold one's hands, thumbs and first fingers pressed tightly together, and res~ them on the lap. In Zen experience these requirements facilitate the unification of the mind.~6 Mohammed * Yoga, Christian Prayer, and Zen The Bible recognizes the importance of place and posture in prayer. In the Old Testament God takes Hosea into solitude to hedge up all the ways he used to run after the desires and thoughts of the world (Ho 2:6). Moses retires to the wilderness to better commune with God (Ex 18:5, 19; 34:27-28), as does Elijah (1 K 17:3-6), and Ezekiel lies on his side for a long time (Ezk 4:4-5:1). In the New Testament, too, Paul (Ga 1:17), John the Baptist (Mt 3:1-6) and Jesus himself (Mt 4:1-2) go into the desert to be alone. Contemplative prayer, has to be inward, and this calls for disci-pline. Hence the advice of Jesus to his disciples: When you pray, go into a room by yore:self, shut the door, sit, and then pray to your Father in private (Mt 6:6). The fourth lesson is breathing, but not in the controlled form prescribed by Patanjali. Rather, when one has established oneself in a stable sitting position, one should take a deep breath, hold it momentarily, and then exhale through the nose slowly and quietly. After doing this two or three times, one should breathe natu-rally. 17 The fifth element of Zen deals with the mind abiding within itself and with the distractions that come from within (makyo). It corresponds to Patanjali's fifth element of yoga (pratyabara). Motionless, with head and spine erect and eyes lowered, breath-ing naturally, one begi~ns to experience a certain detachment from the world, but thoughts, memories, feelings may bubble up to the surface of the mind from the subconscious)8 These obstacles to concentration are due to doubt, sense desire, sloth, and tor-por and are often accompanied by excitedness and worry.19 Unlike Pataniali and Ignatius, who suggest implanting a contrary thought to eliminate these distractions (makyo), Zen teaches that one should merely ignore them. The Bible acknowledges the need to cope with distractions in prayer so that only the still small voice of God is heard, soft and light as an exhalation (1 K 19:12). The sixth element of Zen is concentration. Because the human mind cannot rest inactive, it has to be prevented from dispersing itself among a multiplicity of thoughts and memories by being provided with some inner task to satisfy its need for activity. The task can be to focus on fi chosen topic or idea by means of images or discursive reasoning, as we saw in Patanjali and Ignatius. But even Patanjali and Ignatius recognize that this is not the only way of achieving one-pointed concentration. Another way recalls the saying of Matthew 6:7 that in praying we should not heap up 516 Review for Religious empty phrases, thinking that we will be heard for our many words. This other way, by contrast, consists in only one word or one short phrase repeated over and over attentively. To still the mind by thus restricting one's rational consciousness has a long history in both Eastern and Christian spirituality and is the method taught by the Hare Krishna and Transcendental Meditation movements. Patanjali, echoing Proverbs 18: i 0 that "The name of the Lord is a strong tower: the righteous runs into it and is safe," teaches that the attentive repetition of the name of God, like the use of images and discursive reasoning, can lead one into the intuitive consciousness of meditation in stage seven (YS I, 28). And Ignatius teaches, in his second and third methods of prayer, that the rep-etition of a single word or phrase, coordinated with one's breath-ing, can deepen concentration (SE §252 and §258). A 14th-century Catholic mystic explains this method of concentration in The Cloud of Unknowing: If you want to gather all your desire into one simple word that the mind can easily retain, choose a short word rather than a long one. A one-syllable word such as "God" or "love" is best. But choose one that is meaningful to you. Then fix it in your mind so that it will remain there come what may . Use it to beat upon the cloud of darkness above you and subdue all distractions, consigning them to the cloud of forgetting beneath you. Should some thought go on annoying you, demanding to know what you are doing, answer it with this word alone. If your mind begins to intellectualize over the meaning and connotations of this little word, remind yourself that its value lies in its sim-plicity. Do this and I assure you that these thoughts will vanish. Why? Because you have refused to develop them with arguing.2° In the history of Christian spirituality, John Cassian (360?-432?) was the first person to describe this practice of rep-etition, which he learned from the desertfathers. He does so in chapter i0 of his Tenth Conference, one of the most beautiful passages in Christian writing, using this verse: "Come to my help, 0 God; Lord, hurry to my rescue" (Ps 69:2).2~ John Climacus (579-649) attaches particular importance to the repetition of the Jesus Prayer.22 Later on, the standard form of this prayer, "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me," was widely prac-ticed in the monasteries of Mount Athos. This prayer, combined with respiratory discipline and bodily posture as a preparation j~uly-Aug.ust 1994 517 Mohammed ¯ Yoga, Christian Prayer, and Zen for entrance into meditation (techniques similar to those found in yoga), became the soul of the Hesychast movement in the 13th century23 and in recent centuries has spread widely among the Orthodox churches, whence comes that little gem of a book The VVay of a Pilgrim.24 A similar method of deepening concentration appears both in the repetition of the Hail Mary in the rosary and in Gregorian chants. In all these examples from Hinduism and Christianity, repetition is a way of restricting reflective consciousness. It is a kind of weapon for warding off discursive reasoning, thinking, and conceptualization. It narrows the horizon of rational con-sciousness and prepares the mind for a breakthrough into intuitive consciousness in stage seven. While Patanjali and some Christian writers teach a method for developing concentration that avoids a multiplicity of words, so concerned is Zen with the limitations of words and ideas that it makes transcending them the central point of its method. The two principal schools of Zen, the Soto and the Rinzai, teach meth-ods of concentration that try to get one unhooked from words and thoughts from the very start. The Soto school proposes con-centration on one's breath, inhalation and exhalation, instead of on any words, while the Rinzai school makes use of a koan (a puz-zle or paradox) to put pressure on the mind until the structures of ordinary thinking collapse completely, clearing the way for one's entrance into intuitive consciousness in stage seven and for the sudden flash of insight or enlightenment in stage eight.25 The koan functions in a manner not unlike the sayings of Jesus that oblige one to reach for insight beyond the normal conventions of thought: "Those who find their life will lose it" (Mt 10:39) and "Unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit" (Jn 12:24). Ignatius does not mention either of these methods (Soto and Rinzai) among his prayer suggestions. The Zen distrust of words as keys to concentration reminds us that the prohibition of images of God enjoined at Mount Sinai (Ex 20:1-5 and Dt 5:8-9) goes well beyond images engraved on stone or wood to include our words and concepts. Since no one has ever seen God (Ex 33:17-23; Jn 1 : 18), God is a mystery and so unknowable. Isaiah's confession of God's hiddenness implies that God lies beyond the range of the intellect (Is 45:15). Paul makes the same point when he says that God dwells in "unap- 518 Review for Religious proachable light" (1 Tm 6:16) and when he tells us that any expe-rience of God surpasses all understanding (Ph 4:7). For Paul, to be morbidly concerned over mere verbal questions and quibbles leads us to lose our grasp of the truth (i Tm 6:5). He and Jeremiah go as far as to say that clinging to images of God is an impediment to finding the living God and is a form of idolatry (Rm 1:23; Jr 2:11). The Zen attitude to words reminds us that not everyone who says "Lord, Lord" shall enter the kingdom (Mr 7:21-23) and that, to encounter God, we must be still and let God be God (Ps 46:10). Many Christian mystics teach a wordless nondiscursive path to God that resembles the teaching of Zen. For example, Dionysius in the early 6th cen-tury says that "as you look for a sight of mysterious things," you "must leave behind you every-thing perceived and understood" and "strive upward as much as you can toward union with him who is beyond being and knowl-edge.'' 26 In the 14th century the anonymous author of The Book of Privy Counselling gives this advice to his disciples: "When you go apart to be alone., reject all thoughts, be they good or be they evil.''27 The French Jesuit Jean-Pierre de Caussade (1675-1751) writes that we should pray "with a simple gaze., without using any reasoning" and "pay no attention to distractions.'2s John of the Cross (i 542-1591) advocates the abandonment of thinking in order to make way for intuitive consciousness in stage seven when he observes: "The attitude necessary., is to pay no attention to discursive meditation." All that is required is to liberate oneself "from the impediment and fatigue of ideas and thoughts and care not about thinking," for "desires disquiet the soul and distract it from the peaceful quiet and sweet idleness of the contemplation which is being communicated to it.''29 The Benedictine historian and exegete John Chapman (1865-1933) considers the spiritual-ity of John of the Cross to be Buddhistic;3° the Cistercian Thomas Merton (1915-1968) believes that "Zen is nothing but John of the Cross without the Christian vocabulary.''31 Many Christian mystics teach a wordless nondiscursive path to God that resembles the teaching of Zen. July-August 1994 519 Mohammed ¯ Yoga, Christian Prayer, and Zen The sudden coming of enlightenment at stage eight in Zen has many parallels in Christian spirituality: "The Lord spoke sud-denly to Moses" (Nb 12:4), and on the road to Damascus "sud-denly a great light shone about [Saul]" (Ac 22:6). The enlightenment experience, whenever it appears, is ineffable. When Jeremiah encounters God directly, he does not know how to speak (Jr 1:6). When Paul is "caught up into Paradise," he is unable to say what happened to him (2 Co 12:3). St. Thomas Aquinas, fol-lowing the Zen dictum that those who know do not tell and those who tell do not know, chooses to say nothing except that his enlightenment leaves the Summa Theologiae looking like so much straw. Enlightenment brings joy and a feeling of oneness with all things and a heightened sense of reality. It is an experience not unlike that which Ignatius had on the bank of the Cardoner: As he sat there the eyes of his understanding were opened, and though he saw no vision he understood and perceived many things, numerous spiritual things as well as matters touching on faith and learning, and this was with an eluci-dation so bright that all these things seemed new to him. He cannot expound in detail what he then understood, for they were many things, but he can state that he received such a lucidity in understanding that during the course of his entire life--now having passed his sixty-second year--if he were to gather all the helps he received from God and everything he knew and add them together, he does not think that they would add up to all that he received on that one occasion.32 Seeing reality more clearly and the cosmic feeling that all created things are bound up together belongs to the very essence of Ignatian mysticism, as it does to Zen. This accounts for the cry of the soul expressed early in the Exercises: "The heavens, sun, moon, stars, and the elements; the fruits, birds, fishes, and other animals--why have they all been at my service?" (SE ~60), and accounts as well for the Contemplation to Attain the Love of God at the end (SE §§230-237). Personal Prayer and Interreligious Dialogue Our study has shown that Patanjali, Ignatius, and Buddha all agree that, for religion to be personally authentic, it must involve some direct religious experience and not be merely an affirmation of propositions accepted on the basis of authority--a teaching 520 Review for Religious that seems to be alluded to in the Epistle of James. Moreover, in spite of certain denials, all three make it clear that a personal, direct experience of the ground of one's salvation requires some kind of prior discipline to establish oneself in silence, not just physical silence but a silence of the senses, a silence of the mind, until that silence is reached for which there is no word. Contemplative prayer is the usual name for such a discipline. There are at least eight elements in the praxis of contemplation, and these elements are common to yoga, Ignatius, and Zen. Elements three and four (posture and breathing) in all three spir-itualities insist that contemplative prayer is not exclusively a men-tal or inner activity, but is accomplished in unison with the body, though Zen emphasizes posture more than yoga and Ignatius do and yoga places more stress on breathing than either Zen or Ignatius. In element six, both Patanjali and Ignatius teach a dis-cursive method for deepening concentration, based on the use of images and reason, and a nondiscursive method, based on the repetition of a word or short phrase. Zen teaches only a nondis-cursive method aimed at emptying the mind of all thoughts and images. Patanjali acknowledges that the Zen method of concen-tration can lead one into intuitive consciousness, as do many Christian mystics, though Ignatius makes no mention of it. If today Zen and Hindu meditation movements, like Transcendental Meditation, have a wide appeal among Westerners, it is in large part due to the fact that they teach nondiscursive techniques for entering contemplation. This is a significant point, not only for the dialogue between Ignatian spirituality and Eastern religions, but also--inasmuch as many Christians ignore the contribution of the body to prayer and many others are disaffected with discur-sive prayer--for the directing of Ignatian retreats. Notes ~ "Address to the Staff Members of the World Council of Churches Sub-Unit and the Pontifical Council for Interreligious Dialogue," in The Bulletin of the Pontificium Consilium pro Dialogo inter Religiones 78 (1991): 26/3,307-308. z For example, Heinrich Dumoulin, A History of Zen Buddhism (Boston: Beacon Press, 1969) and Christianity Meets Buddhism (La Salle, Illinois: Open Court Publishing Company, 1974); H.M. Enomiya-Lassalle, Zen Meditation for Christians (La Salle, Illinois: Open Court Publishing Company, 1974) and Zen--VVay to Enlightenment (London: Sheed and Ward, 1976); J.K. Kadowaki, Zen and the Bible (London: Routledge and d71~ly-August 1994 521 Mohammed ¯ Yoga, Christian Prayer, and Zen Kegan Paul, 1980); Daniel J. O'Hanlon, "Zen and the Spiritual Exercises: A Dialogue between Faiths," Theological Studies 39, no. 4 (December 1978): 737-768; William Johnston, The Still Point (New York: Fordham University Press, 1970), The Inner Eye of Love (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1978), Silent Music (New York: Harper and Row, 1974), and Christian Zen (New York: Harper and Row, 1971). 3 O-bey N. Mohammed, "Ignatian Spirituality and the Bhagavad Gita," Thought 62, no. 247 (December 1987): 423-434. 4 Mircea Eliade, Yoga (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1971), p. 4. s Dom Aelred Graham, Zen Catholicism (New York: Harcourt, Brace and World, 1963), p. 123. 6 For references to the I~ga Sutras, see Swami Prabhavananda and Christopher Isherwood, trans., How to Know God: The Yoga Aphorisms of Patanjali (New York: New American Library, 1953), or I.K. Taimni, The Science of Yoga: The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali (Wheaton, Illinois: Theosophical Publishing House, 1975). Hereafter all references to the Yoga Sutras are indicated as YS. For references to the Spiritual Exercises, see Louis J. Puhl, trans., The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1951). Hereafter all references to the Spiritual Exercises are indicated as SE. 7 Eliade, pp. 48-49. 8 R.C. Zaehner, trans., The Bhagavad Gita (London: Oxford University Press, 1973). 9 Letters of St. Ignatius of Loyola, trans. William J. Young (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1959), p. 22. ~0 Karl Rahner, The Dynamic Element in the Church (Montreal: Palm Publishers, 1964), p. 153. ~ Letters, p. 23. ~2 The Spiritual Diary of St. Ignatius of Loyola, trans. William J. Young (Woodstock: Woodstock College Press, 1958), p. 44. ~3 For material on Zen written by non-Jesuits, see C.H. Hambrick, "Zen Buddhism," in The Encyclopedic Dictionary of Religion (Washington, D.C.: Corpus Publications, 1979); Alan W. Watts, The Way of Zen (New York: Vintage, 1957); Shunryu Suzuki, Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind (New York: Weatherhill, 1970); D.T. Suzuki, An Introduction to Zen Buddhism (London: Arrow Books, 1959) and Essays in Zen Buddhism. First Series. (London: Rider and Company, 1970); Christian Humphreys, Zen Buddhism (London: Unwin Books, 1971); Thomas Merton, Mystics and Zen Masters (New York: Dell Publications, 1967) and Zen and the Birds of Appetite (New York: New Directions, 1968); Philip Kapleau, The Three Pillars of Zen (Boston: Beacon Press, 1967); Graham, Zen Catholicism (see note 5). ,4 The Dhammapada, trans. Juan Mascaro (Harmondsworth, Middlesex: Penguin Books, 1973), verse 183. 522 Review for Religious ~s Christian Humphreys, Buddhism (Harmondsworth, Middlesex: Penguin Books, 1975), pp. 111-115. ,6 On posture see Johnston, Christian Zen, pp. 105-109; Enomiya- Lassalle, Zen--Way to Enlightenment, pp. 103-109; Kapleau, pp. 18-20, 30-31, 34, 317-320. 17 On breathing see Enomiya-Lassalle, Zen--Way to Enlightenment, pp. 109-110; Johnston, Christian Zen, pp. 77-80; Kapleau, p. 32. 18 On makyo see Kapleau, pp. 38-41, 100-102; Johnston, The Still Point, pp. 9-10, 36. 19 Edward Conze, ed., Buddhist Scriptures (Harmondsworth, Middlesex: Penguin Books, 1971), p. 246, "Hindrances." 20 William Johnston, trans., The Cloud of Unknowing and The Book of Privy Counselling (New York: Image Books, 1973), p. 56. 21 John Cassian, Conferences, trans. Colm Luibheid (New York: Paulist Press, 1985), pp. 132-140. 22 John Climacus, The Ladder of Divine Ascent, trans. Colm Luibheid and Norman Russell (New York: Paulist Press, 1982), pp. 45-47. 23 Eliade, pp. 63-65; Gaspar M. Koelman, Patanjala Yoga (Poona: Papal Athenaeum, 1970), pp. 195-196; J.-M. Dfichanet, Christian Yoga (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1960), pp. 173-183. 24 Translated by Helen Bacovin (Garden City: Image Books, 1978). 25 Dumoulin, A History of Zen Buddhism, pp. 135-13 6; Shunryu Suzuki, p. 33. 26 Pseudo-Dionysius, "The Mystical Theology," I, I, in The Complete Works of Pseudo-Dionysius, trans. Colin Luibheid (New York: Paulist Press, 1987), p. 135. 27 Johnston, The Cloud of Unknowing and The Book of Privy Counselling, p. 149. 28 The Spiritual Letters of P.J. de Caussade on the Practice of Self- Abandonment to Divine Providence, trans. Mgar Thorold (London: Burns, Oates and Washbourne, 1948), p. 39. 29 John of the Cross, "The Dark Night of the Soul," I:10, 4, in Selected Writings, ed. Kieran Kavanaugh OCD (New York: Paulist Press, 1987), pp. 185-186. 3°John Chapman, Spiritual Letters (London: Sheed and Ward, 1989), p. 269. 31 Thomas Merton, Springs of Contemplation: A Retreat at the Abbey of Gethsemani, ed. Jane Marie Richardson (New York: Farrar, Straus, Giroux, 1992), p. 177. 32 Joseph N. Tylenda, trans., A Pilgrim's Journey: The Autobiography of Ignatius of Loyola (Wilmington: Michael Glazier, 1985), pp. 38-39. July-August 1994 523 FREDERICK E. CROWE The Ignatian Exercises and Jesuit Spirituality Tere is a tendency, noted more in passing remarks than in ematic studies, to equate Jesuit spirituality with the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola. I do not know whether anyone has ever made the equation in so many words, but one hears it said that the Exercises are the wellspring of Jesuit life, that Jesuit spirituality is to be found above all in the Exercises, that the Exercises are the basis of Jesuit spirituality, that Jesuits have a vision given them by the Exercises, and so on. There is a profound truth in all these statements, but just because the truth in them is so very profound and so very true, it seems to me all the more necessary to state explicitly that it is not the whole truth and to think out clearly the relationship of the Exercises to Jesuit, and any other, spirituality. Otherwise part of the truth is easily taken to be the whole truth, and so we come imper-ceptibly to identify two distinct elements in Jesuit spirituality: the Exercises, and the complex history that culminated in Ignatius's Constitutions for the Society of Jesus. Then, since innocently defi-cient ideas still have consequences, we arrive at two practical errors: pointing the Exercises toward a spirituality they do not intend and depriving Jesuit spirituality of its specific character, as found most notably in the Constitutions. Frederick E. Crowe SJ is well known for his books and articles on the thought of Bernard Lonergan SJ. He may be addressed at Lonergan Research Institute; 10 St. Mary Street, Suite 500; Toronto, Ontario M4Y 1P9; Canada. 524 Review for Religious Two simple lines of reasoning should, it seems to me, estab-lish the point I am making. The first is a thought experiment that makes the case in a more graphic way than my abstract assertion. Let us imagine two men with the proper dispositions who both make the Spiritual Exercises. One of them emerges from the thirty days with a decision to seek admission to the Jesuits. The other emerges with a decision to join the Carthusians. Is this an impos-sible scenario? Will anyone tell the Holy Spirit, "You cannot do that; the Exercises are identified with Jesuit spirituality; you really cannot use them to direct someone to the Carthusians"? Or would anyone say that the Carthusian vocation here is due to a failure of the exercitant to be guided by the Spirit, that the Spirit was directing him elsewhere, that he is in fact a Jesuit manque? I mean this, of course, as a reductio ad absurdum, for no one would dream of tak-ing such a position on what the Holy Spirit should or should not do, or of attributing a failure to respond properly if the exerci-tant does not decide to be a Jesuit. And a parallel statement could be made about two women emerging from their Ignatian retreat, one to become a Poor Clare, the other to become a social worker; or about a man and woman emerging with plans for matrimony. My other line of reasoning takes us to actual history. We might ask: What were the first companions of Ignatius doing in the years that followed their experience of making the Exercises, say between 1534 and 1540, a period in which they were steadily seeking the divine will? Why, if the Exercises had already deter-mined what the Jesuit spirituality and way of proceeding was to be, did they run through so many different options before they set-tled on that way? What, indeed, was Ignatius himself doing for nearly two decades after Manresa, wandering around Europe and the Holy Land before he found his destined way of life? And a still more pointed question: What was he doing in the dozen years of "blood, toil, tears, and sweat," during which he laboriously worked out the Jesuit Constitutions? The answer seems obvious in all these questions: Ignatius and his first companions were seeking some-thing the Exercises had not given them. Will anyone tell the Holy Spirit, "You really cannot use the Ignatian Exercises to direct someone to the Carthusians" ? July-August 1994 525 Crowe ¯ The Ignatian Exercises and yesuit Spirituality I believe that we need to face these questions and work out with all possible accuracy what role the Exercises may play in Jesuit or any other spirituality' and how that role may be complemented by the distinct and specifying roles that different spiritual tradi-tions may contribute--for Jesuits, in the way their Constitutions, above all, determine for them; for Carthusians, Poor Clares, and other religious institutes, in ways that they also have worked out for themselves and that I need not try to determine for them here. Is there then a spirituality in the Exercises? Yes, indeed, the very highest. If we leave aside the case of those who are not dis-posed to go beyond the First Week (§18),2 the aim of the Exercises is to bring exercitants, whatever their state in life is to be and wherever God will direct them, to choose to live under the stan-dard of Christ: "We shall also think about how we ought to dis-pose ourselves in order to come to perfection in whatsoever state or way of life God our Lord may grant us to elect" (~135)3- which means embracing the way of Christ, in the highest poverty, spiritual poverty certainly and if God wills it in actual poverty as well; in willingness also to bear opprobrium and injuries in order to imitate him the better (§147); and again, when God is served equally by either of the two alternatives, to choose poverty with Christ poor rather than riches, opprobrium with Christ covered with opprobrium rather than honors, to be counted vain and stupid with Christ so counted rather than wise and prudent in this world (§167); and so forth. The real question is: How does this spirituality relate to the various specific spiritualities to which various individual exercitants may be called? I will suggest a few ways of conceiving the relation, ways that follow more traditional lines of thought and shed some light on the matter, none of them quite satisfactory, but each adding an element of understanding. And then I will propose another approach to the whole question. The obvious pair of terms to define the relationship in ques-tion is generic and specific: the Exercises have a generic spiritual-ity, the following of Christ; then, giving more determinate content to this, we have the specific spiritualities of Jesuit, Carthusian, and so on. I have drawn on these concepts already to start dis-cussion; they contribute some clarity, but they use the language of logic, which seems simply inadequate for so spiritual a question. Another useful set of terms would be infrastructure and super-structure. To follow Christ is infrastructure for whatever way of life 526 Review for Religious we choose to follow; on this basis one builds a superstructure of, say, the Jesuit way of proceeding. These terms from the world of civil engineering clarify our question rather nicely. Still, they make the following of Christ the invisible element, or at any rate not the focus of attention--a situation that does not correspond to any voca-tion emerging from the Exercises. A third set might be the concepts of the compact and the differentiated that have now come into general use, mainly, I believe, through the influ-ence of Eric Voegelin. Bernard Lonergan also has some helpful pages on the process from the compactness of the symbol, where very profound truths may be contained and grasped, to the enucleated and analyzed differ-entiations of scientists, philosophers, and theologians. He illustrates the process by Christology and the "tran-sition from a more compact symbolic consciousness expressed in the New Testament to a more enucleated theo-logical consciousness expressed in the great Greek councils.''4 Once again we have a pair of terms that provide some understanding--certainly the various spiritualities are differentiated from one another (one has only to adduce again the example of Carthusian and jesuit)- but do they also contain the unwelcome hint that the various dif-ferentiations divide up something that the compact contained in its wholeness? A fourth pair, made familiar in social studies, is the communal or collective and the particular or individual. Our communal spiri-tuality is the way of Christ; our individual spirituality is the par-ticular way of life in which we follow Christ. This seems a promising line of thought, but working out the relation between the communal and the individual, we would need to see how the communal is explicit in the particular andhow the particular con-tains without loss the whole of the communal. No doubt we could add to this list and pursue similar paired meanings with considerable profit, but I wonder if in the end it We need to work out with all possible accuracy what role the Exercises may play in Jesuit or any other spirituality. July-August 1994 527 Crowe ¯ The Ignatian Exercises and Jesuit Spirituality would bring us to the heart of the matter. I wonder in fact if our aim here is not a bit off center, if we should not approach the problem from another perspective altogether. For in the various pairs we have considered, the first member seems to remain incomplete until the second is added, and the second has always to be concerned that it incorporates the whole of the first. Further, the second term in each pair is thought of as an end product with its meaning determined: what a Jesuit is, what a Carthusian is-- these are already more or less clearly defined, belong to an estab-lished order, are in some measure static. Does such thinking deal adequately with the dynamism of the Exercises? I would like to explore a somewhat different approach. In this line of thought it is the heuristic character and therefore the dynamism of the Exercises that will be the focus. But all dynamic movement, all searching, all heuristic activity suppose and take place within a horizon that determines the activity and defines the source of energy for the search; I therefore need to study first the idea of horizon. For both terms, horizon and heuristic, I draw directly on the work of Bernard Lonergan. For the meaning of horizon, it will be best simply to quote Lonergan's account of the matter: In its literal sense the word, horizon, denotes the bound-ing circle, the line at which earth and sky appear to meet. This line is the limit of one's field of vision. As one moves about, it recedes in front and closes in behind so that, for different standpoints, there are different hori-zons. Moreover, for each different standpoint and hori-zon, there are different divisions of the totality of visible objects. Beyond the horizon lie the objects that, at least for the moment, cannot be seen. Within the horizon lie the objects that can now be seen. As our field of vision, so too the scope of our knowl-edge, and the range of our interests are bounded. As fields of vision vary with one's standpoint, so too the scope of one's knowledge and the range of one's interests vary with the period in which one lives, one's social back-ground and milieu, one's education and personal devel-opment. So there has arisen a metaphorical or perhaps analogous meaning of the word, horizon. In this sense what lies beyond one's horizon is simply outside the range of one's knowledge and interests: one neither knows nor cares. But what lies within one's horizon is in some measure, great or small, an object of interest and of knowledge,s 528 Review for Religious It is easy to apply this idea to the world of the Spiritual Exercises. One enters upon them with a given horizon, vaguely or clearly conceived: "the range of one's knowledge and interests"; for example, maybe one is led by a spirit of repentance or by anxiety about one's salvation. One makes the First Week, remaining for the most part within such a horizon--with glimpses of something beyond, to be sure, in such passages as the colloquy at the end of the first exercise (§53). But if one responds to the call of Christ in the Kingdom exercise (§91), one pushes back the previous horizon to work within a new one, far wider, with far greater potential, a horizon that is all-encompassing, a boundary that is in fact no boundary for it encloses a territory that is boundless. Now it is this ultimate hori-zon, and not any relative and con-fining horizon, that I would equate with the spirituality of the Exercises. The horizon of those who should not be led beyond the First Week is narrow and con-fining. What happens when one enters the Second Week with the mind and heart of those who would "show greater devotion and . . . distinguish themselves in total service to their eternal King and universal Lord" (§95)? What happens is the discovery of a new horizon, the horizon defined by Christ the Lord. The horizon is established in the exercises on Two Standards (§§ 136- 148) and Three Ways of Being Humble (§§165-168); details are added in the Mysteries of the Life of Christ Our Lord (§261); and in the Third and Fourth Weeks communion with Christ (what the Germans call Mitsein) fortifies the attraction of the good with the power of love and the interpersonal. This does not happen without the grace of God and a con-version. For besides the ultimate horizon there are relative hori-zons. There are shifts in our relative horizon as we move, say, from school days to the work force, and this shift may occur as a normal development of potentialities. "But it is also possible that the movement into a new horizon involves an about-face; it comes out of the old by repudiating characteristic features; it begins a Communion with Christ fortifies the attraction of the good with the power of love. 3~dy-Aug~t 1994 529 Crowe ¯ The Ignatian Exercises and yesuit Spirituality new sequence that can keep revealing ever greater depth and breadth and wealth. Such an about-face and new beginning is what is meant by a conversion.''6 Against that background we turn to the idea of the heuristic, taking as our context the fact that the Exercises are a search. Thus, the first annotation tells us: Our purpose, after removing obstacles, is to seek and to find the divine will (§1), and the fif-teenth annotation has advice for those who during the Exercises are seeking God's will (§15). Or, as is repeated over and over, recurring like a refrain, we are to seek what gives glory to God (§16). In the key stage of the Election, "While continuing our contemplations of [Christ's] life, we now begin simultaneously to explore and inquire: In which state or way of life does the Divine Majesty wish us to serve him?" (§135). And still, at the heart of the Exercises, in the meditation on the Three Classes of Men, we are seeking to "desire and know what will be more pleasing to the Divine Goodness" (§151). We are, then, in an area in which the idea of the heuristic plays a central role. My Webster's dictionary defines heuristic as "serving to guide, discover, or reveal." A helpful point: the famous "Eureka" of Archimedes is from the same Greek root; it means "I have found [it]; I have discovered the secret." Now this line of thought is thoroughly developed in Bernard Lonergan, and I find his treatment of the idea helpful for understanding the process and dynamic of spiritual search that the Exercises are. In his usage a heuristic notion tries to give some advance notice of what we hope to find; it is an anticipation of the answer we seek to a ques-tion; it is not a determinate concept, like various concepts in physics or chemistry or biology; it is an indeterminate anticipation. The nearly perfect word for this way of conceiving in antic-ipation what we have not yet deter'mined in particular is what-ever, and the nearly perfect use of whatever we can find right in Scripture. Paul, writing to the Philippians (4:8), exhorts them to focus on "whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is com-mendable" (NRSI~ in the Douai translation, "whatsoever"). Well, what is true? what is honorable, just, and so on? That will emerge with each new day, and meanwhile we are guided by its anticipa-tion in that "whatever." To come, then, to the present point, Ignatius and Paul are at one in conceivin, g by anticipation what they do not yet determine 530 Revie~v for Religious in particular. Apropos of the Election, Ignatius writes that we are to "think about how we ought to dispose ourselves in order to come to perfection in whatsoever state or way of life God our Lord may grant us to elect" (§ 135). It is possible now to bring these two ideas together in a new understanding of the relationship of the Exercises and Jesuit or other spirituality. My brief statement of the case would be that the horizon of the Exercises and the spirituality they directly intend is established in the exercise on the Two Standards (§§ 136-148) and the exercises that directly relate to it; further, that the heuristic of the Exercises is epitomized in the Election (§§169-188), where we search for and discover and embrace the state of life God intends for us. And the relationship between the two is indicated in the Introduction to the Consideration of the States of Life: "We shall also think about how we ought to dispose ourselves in order to come to perfection in whatsoever state or way of life God our Lord may grant us to elect" (§135). Perfection as defined in the Two Standards and their retinue of exercises is the horizon; but "whatsoever state" God may direct us to is another matter: it rep-resents the heuristic element. The Exercises do not, therefore, intend any one spirituality; their objective ordination, what the scholastics would call their finis operis, is neither Jesuit nor Carthusian spirituality, nor any other; they intend what God will choose, and their finis operis is a "whatever." What we therefore first conceived as generic, as infrastructure, as compact, as communal, we now conceive as a horizon; and what we first conceived as specific, as superstruc-ture, as differentiated, as individual, we now conceive as the area within that horizon that we discover to be God's will for us. But in moving from one to the other we do not add some-thing specific that was not contained in the genus, for everything is contained in the horizon; and, for those who respond fully, the whole spirituality of the horizon enters every vocation and every state of life. The situation is more like that of the incarnation: as the fullness of the Godhead dwells in Christ (Col 1:19), so the fullness of the horizon of Christ is the world in which we dwell, Jesuit and Carthusian and all others that respond fully to the call of the Kingdom exercise. And similarly, the "superstructure" we conceived as our way turns out to be what we may call an "addition," but an addition to what is already complete (like the humanity of Christ added to the July-August 1994 531 Crowe ¯ The Ignatian Exercises and Jesuit Spirituality God's will is the supreme heuristic notion guiding the exercitant, and the Exercises are a heuristic device. eternal and infinite Word). The "differentiation" we spoke of is not a dividing off of a part, but the incorporation of the whole, and the "individual" contains the fullness of the communal. Thus, one is everywhere safe within the all-encompassing arms of the Christian horizon; one is never in exile, never outside the shores of home, never a wanderer like the prodigal son in dis-tant lands. One does not, therefore, go beyond this horizon to be a Jesuit or to be a Carthusian or to find some other particular vocation. There is nothing there beyond it. It is the all-encompassing. Just as within any rel-ative horizon of geography one can go north or south, east or west, with-out going beyond the horizon, so within the ultimate horizon estab-lished by Christ one can become a Jesuit or a Carthusian, but one cannot go beyond the horizon set by Christ; one can only contract that horizon by living an inauthentic Jesuit life or liv-ing an inauthentic Carthusian life. Further use of the ideas of heuris-tic and horizon is readily made. In Lonergan's thought one can speak of heuristic notions and heuristic devices. There is the notion of being, the notion of the good, and so on; but there are also the heuristic structures that promote the discoveries we seek (his rather famous scissors action of heuristic method). One could say that God's will is the supreme heuristic notion guiding the exercitant and that the Exercises are a heuristic device, an instru-ment par excellence for finding God's will, maybe with a kind of scissors action too. (I do not, however, call the Exercises the supreme heuristic device, for we do not limit God's creativity to what was divinely done in Ignatius, and we do not know what successor God may be preparing for Ignatius.) Again, still in Lonergan's thought, one can speak of interrelationships in the set of horizons, of their complementary, genetic, and dialectical differences. But that would add length to an article that is already 532 Review for Religious long enough, and introduce further specialized categories where they are already rather extensive. Notes ~ Eventually such a study should come to the details of particular spiritualities, but that is a further step. Here I intend the word in a broad sense: "spirituality" includes, therefore, elements of doctrine and practice, of vocation and way of proceeding, of tradition and orientation, of rules and constitutions, and so on, without specifying what these may be for Jesuit, Carthusian, and other vocations. 2 The Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius: A Translation and Commentary, by George E. Ganss SJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1992), no. 18 in the numbering that is standard for all editions. All English quota-tions will be from this edition; numbers will be given in parentheses in the text. 3 In the Latin, "ut veniamus ad perfectionem in quocumque statu seu vita, quam Deus Dominus noster eligendam nobis dederit" (§ 135). The "quocumque" is the "whatever" I will presently discuss. 4 Bernard Lonergan, Topics in Education (The Cincinnati Lectures of 1959 on the Philosophy of Education), ed. Robert M. Doran and Frederick E. Crowe (University of Toronto Press, 1992), pp. 55-58. On Eric Voegelin see Kenneth Keulman, The Balance of Consciousness: Eric Voegelin's Political Theory (Pennsylvania State University Press, 1990), pp. 92-93: "What the pattern of symbolizations indicates is the development from compact to differentiated forms . The terms "compact" and "dif-ferentiated" refer not only to the symbolizations, but also to the charac-teristic forms of consciousness that generate them." s Bernard Lonergan, Method in Theology (2nd ed. reprint, University of Toronto Press, 1990), pp. 235-236. 6 Ibid, pp. 237-238. I add a few helpful quotations: "Horizontal lib-erty is the exercise of liberty within a determinate horizon and from the basis of a corresponding existential stance. Vertical liberty is the exer-cise of liberty that selects that stance and the corresponding horizon" (ibid, p. 40, with a reference to Joseph de Finance). "For falling in love is a new beginning, an exercise of vertical liberty in which one's world undergoes a new organization" (ibid, p. 122). "A horizontal exercise {of freedom] is a decision or choice that occurs within an established horizon. A vertical exercise is the set of judgments and decisions by which we move from one horizon to another" (ibid, p. 237). "Further, deliberate decision about one's horizon is high achievement. For the most part peo-ple merely drift into some contemporary horizon. They do not advert to the multiplicity of horizons. They do not exercise their vertical liberty by migrating from the one they have inherited to another they have dis-covered to be better" (ibid, p. 269). July-August 1994 533 JOAN MUELLER The Suscipe Revisited " J here~T~ is little doubt that one of the most famous excerpts .~- of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises is the Suscipe--"Take, Lord, Receive." In recent years its popularity has increased through John Foley's musical rendition of the text? Those who have made a thirty-day or a nineteenth-annotation Ignatian retreat are likely to recognize this prayer: Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory, my understanding, and all my will--all that I have and possess. You, Lord, have given all that to me. I now give it back to you, 0 Lord. All of it is yours. Dispose of it according to your will. Give me your love and your grace, for that is enough for me.2 Directors of the Spiritual Exercises soon discover a variety of responses to the Suscipe. Some retreatants admit that they decide to what degree they pray it. The prayer feels like a radical, even reckless risk. Some, then, pray "to desire to desire" to enter into this prayer. Others simply decide to pray it with less intensity than they pray other prayers that feel less radical. Some retreatants report that the Suscipe begins to move through their consciousness like a mantra without their having any memory of deciding to pray it in this way; there is a passive, almost unconscious move-ment going on. Some people, however, pray the Suscipe with gusto, as if it is their greatest joy to make the words their own. Such people experience giving everything over to God as their true freedom. Joan Mueller OSF is assistant professor of systematic theology at Saint Francis Seminary and teaches in the summer spirituality program at Creighton University in Omaha, Nebraska. Her address is Saint Francis Seminary; 3257 South Lake Drive; Saint Francis, Wisconsin 53235. 534 Review for Religious Even though directors are well aware that the Exercises are designed to foster personal response to the gospel, we may won-der how one prayer can elicit such a variety of responses. We could probe this question by means of various methodologies: personality theories, enneagram numbers, prayer styles, and so forth. In this essay I propose examining the question through a consideration of the dynamics of the Exercises. A Dynamic Theory of the Spiritual Life The Ignatian Spiritual Exercises can be seen as a paradigm for spiritual growth. Many such paradigms exist in the Christian spir-itual tradition: St. Teresa of Avila's Interior Castle, St. John of the Cross's Ascent of Mount

Issue 15.1 of the Review for Religious, 1956. ; A. M. D. G. Review for Religious JANUARY 15, 19 5 6 Sisters' Re÷rea÷s~i .".'- . Thomas Dubay Novice Master and Secrecy .John R. Post Forbidden Readlncj . John J. Lynch Book Reviews Questions and Answers VOLUME XV , NUMBER 1 R ViI::W FOR Ri LIGIOUS VOLUME XV JANUARY, 1956 NUMBER 1 CONTENTS SISTERS' RETREATS--I--Thomas Dubay, S.M . 3 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . l0 SOME RECENT PAMPHLETS . 10 NOVICE MASTER'S OBLIGATIONS TO SECRECY-~John R. Post, S.'J. 1 l QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 1. Difficulty in Submitting to Superior's Will . 2. Permission to Offer One's Life to God . 22 3. Occasional Confessor of Religious Women .22 4. Permission for Private Penances . 23 5. Indulgences for Little Office of B.V.M . 24 6. Name of a Religious Institute . 24 7. Lowering Veil for Holy Communion . 25 8. Ordo to Follow in Convent Masses . 25 FORBIDDEN READING--'John 3. Lynch, S.J . 27 FOR YOUR INFORMATION . 46 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS-- Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana . 48 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 'january, 1956. Vol. XV, No. I. Published bi-monthly: ,January, March, May, 'july, September, and November, at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter, ,January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.'J., Gerald Kelly, S.3., Henry Willmering, S.J. Literary Editor: Edwin F. Falteisek, S.J. Copyright, 1956, by Review for Religious. Permission is hereby granted for quo-tations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year: 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us, please co~nsult notice on inside back cover. Review for Religious Volume XV January--December, 1956 Published at THE COLLEGE PRESS Topeka, Kansas Edited by THE JESUIT FATHERS ST. MARY'S COLLEGE St. Marys, Kansas REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is indexed in ÷he CATHOLIC PERIODICAL INDEX Sisters' Retreats l Thomas Dubay, S.M. INTRODUCTION THIS article and the others that will follow it1 deal with the results of an experimental study of retreats for religious wo-men. A summary of the purpose of the study can perhaps be given in no better way. than by reproducing the note addressed to each sister participating in th3 survey. Dear Sister : The purpose of this study is to help you to make more profitable retreats. If you will be so kind as to join hundreds of other sisters in answering this question-naire, you will be make a noteworthy contribution to this end, for it is hoped that through publication the results of this study may be made available to retreat masters. Because mere statistics are not .of themsel;ces too reliable, space is provided after the questions for your further comment. And the more comment you offer, the more you will help this study. If the space provided is not sufficient, you are urged to add pages of your own. Sittce it is your individual opinion that is so valuable, Sister~ I would suggest that you consult with no one. Further, you may be assured that your opinions will remain secret. Your Mother Superior has agreed to return all questionnaires without anybody's reading of them. And certainly I will not know you. None of your answers will be interpreted as, negatively critical and so you should feel perfectly free to state your full and frank views . May God bless your kindness! Of approximately 1300 questionnaire forms distributed to a large number of different communitiesz located in all parts of the United States, 701 were returned with answers. These 701 returns seem to represent a reasonably good cross section of the American sisterhood in age distribution, type of order, and kind of work. In respect to the 'number of years of professed religious life the respondents are distributed in the manner indicated in Table I. TABLEI: PROFESSION AGE OF PARTICIPATINGSISTERS 1-5 years . 108 6-10 years . 97 11-20 years . 173 21-30 years . 156 31-40 years. . 97 over 40 years . 66 ~Editors' Note: There will be five more articles. 2A rough estimate would place the number of distinct congregations between 30 and 50. 3 THOMAS DUBAY Review /:or Religious 2~ wide variety of occupations is likewise represented. Table II shows the kinds of work done by the sisters. TABLE II: OCCUPATIONS OF PARTICIPATING SISTERS Teaching in grade school . 230 Teaching in high school . 187 Hospital and nursing education: . . 86 Teaching in college . 79 - Domestic . 55 . Social work . 13 Home for aged . 10 Represented by numbers under ten are the following occupations: orphanages, office work, postulant or novice mistresses, public health nursing, cloistered life, and several miscellaneous offices. Nine sis-ters did not reveal their occupations. That many sisters are vitally interested in the retreat problem is evidenced both by the care with which 701 filled out a nuisance of a questionnaire and by the many appreciative messages that ac-companied their answers. These kind observations we will pass by here and commend to God for reward. Even a brief reading of the returned survey forms can leave no doubt that the sisters have been frank--sometimes bluntly frank-- both in their praise and in their blame. The excerpts that follow are statements characteristic of the sincerity, care, and goodwill with "which the replies are replete. I have tried to answer seriously and thoughtfully the various questions, and hope there is no inconsistency in my answers, or any misleading statements, dust thinking along these lines in order to answer the questions has been, in a sense, a meditation and an inspiration. Hope I haven't been too far out in left field on these answers-~but it was a good opportunity I couldn't afford to miss !--even though I just made it late to class! Father, you must be smiling or laughing at my preachy manner. But no . . . I don't presume to be saying (rather writing) authoritatively. ,Just presenting my observations, since better retreats and better retreat masters for sisters was for a number of years a special object of ~y poor prayers. In the whole course of this study, it has seemed wise to place considerable stress on the sisters' written comments for the reason that a mere statistical presentation viewed alone can be misleading. When explained by the living observation, statistics can be most enlightening and helpful. Manifestly only a fraction of all the sisters' comments can be January,. 1956 SISTERS' RETREATS--l[ included in these articles, but the excerpts ~he writer has chosen are repregentative. There were so many striking statements, so many shrewd observations, so many sincere analyses Of retreat problem~, '~o. many grace-inspired kindly remarks, that, when pressed to choose "~mong them, he felt like a little boy give~n free reign in a well, Stocked candy shop. Only he had no free reign, for lack of space.:has mercilessly curtailed the number of sisters' comments reproduced in "these articles. Perhaps some future detailed stu.dy can exploit the untapped riches of their observations. Views of extreme minorities (i.e., .of one or two sisters only) are usually not represented in the written observations; for their comments, if placed next to an excerpt representing ten or fifteen sisters, would produce an imbalance in favor'of the former. These extreme views are not neglected, however, for they appear in the numerical summaries. It need not be stressed that the views of the sisters are not necessarily those of the present writer. One ~eason is that he is here interested in presenting the sisters' opinions, not his own. A second--and this one is metaphysical--is that what one sister af-firms another sometimes denies. In this connection, however, we should remember that the c6ntradiction is often merely apparent; for rarely are the sisters speaking about the same retreat master or exactly the same idea. SOURCE OF PRIESTS We sh,ll first consider the question, as to whether 'sisters prefer their retreaq masters to come from the same or different orders of men year after year. This item in the questionnaire wfiiworded as follows : As a source of re~reat masters would you prefer p~iests __always from the same order from different orders ~it makes little difference to me Further comment: (space provided) While we will give first of all in one summary a picture of the views of all of the sisters on this question, it would be a mistake to "rest content with that picture alone. There are on this point three types of situations among congregations of religious women, Some are attached to orders of men; others are not so attached' but do obtain their retreat masters from one order of men alone; and still others are not attached and do not restrict the source of retreat. m~isters to one order of men. A priori we might expect different THOMAS DUBAY Reoieu~ [or Religious reactions in the three groups to the question under discussion here. This expectation is borne out to some extent by the answers to the survey question. ]Due to the fact that no sister participating in this study was asked to identify either herself or her congregation, it was impossibl~ to distinguish in most cases into which of the three categories a given reply fell. However, a considerable number of sisters did distinguish their congregation in this general way and so some basis for a com-parison is possible. We will first give a cumulative picture of all the replies relative to this question. TABLE III: PREFERENCE FOR SOURCE OF PRIESTS--ALL SISTERS Always from the same order . 148 (21.8%) From different orders . 353 (52.0%) It makes little difference to me . 178 (26.2%) As already indicated, not much can be proved from this overall picture; and so we will proceed to our breakdown. TABLE IV: PREFERENCE FOR SOURCE OF PRIESTS SISTERS ATTACHED TO AN ORDER OF MEN Always f, rom the same order . 60 (62.5 %) From different orders . 18 (18.75%) It makes little difference to me . 18~ (18.75%) Here we notice a considerable deviation from the overall pic-ture. Most sisters attached to an order of men wish to receive their retreat masters from that order alone. In the~e congregations, bow-ever, there appear to be two rather strong minorities of another mind. TABLE V: PREFERENCE FOR SOURCE OF PRIESTS SISTERS UNATTACHED TO ANY ORDER OF MEBNUT RECEIVING RETREAT MASTERS FROM ONE ORDER ALONE Always from the same order . 10 (11.3 %) From different orders .65 (73.0%) : It makes little difference to me . 14 (15.7 % ) Here also a noteworthy deviation from the overall picture can be seen, and that in a direction opposite to the deviation found in. the immediately preceding table. Because the two groups of sisters included in Tables IV and V almost perfectly balance each other off, the position of unattached sisters receiving retreat masters from several orders of men is fairly well "refledted in Table III, once due allowances are made. As he went through the. returned replies, .January, 1956 SISTERS' RETREATS--I the present writer received the impression that this third group of sisters is for the most part Well pleased with its custom, i.e., re-ceiving priests from different orders. We may turn now to the reasons the. sisters give for their various preferences. The number of excerpts given in each group is approximately proportionate to the number of preferences regis-tered in that category. Those who prefer, the same order: I prefer priests from the same order as my own because I feel that they understand my obligations better and are thus able to help me more. Our community always have the same religious for retreat masters, and there seems to be a definite continuity of purpose represented in their retreats--which is fine. I think that it is ideal to have a priest of one's own order, as he knows and has the same spirit and can lead one in one's own spirituality. A religious usually comes to appreciate what is traditional in her congregation. We always have . We have priests where I come from, and believe you me, Padre, they're "tops" ! If there are two branches of the same order--one for men, one for women--then the sisters profit greatly by having retreat masters of the same order. The retreat master then understands best the way of life through which the sisters are to reach heaven. For any sisters it would be hard to have different ways of spiritu-ality presented and urged on them by priests of various orders. Sisters preferring priests from different orders: I think they should be selected for personal ability. Many'sisters I know get tired of having the same order, as we generally do. Each order has something special, something beautiful that they follow. Knowl-edge of the various orders will not only broaden our intellectual and spiritual outlook but also make for a deeper understanding and cooperation between the orders. I prefer priests from different orders as it would give variety to the types of medi-tations given. The for instance are fine but you always know what their meditations are going to be based upon. I like to be surprised once in a while. I would not consider the order if I had a choice but would find men who were' holy and knew how to inspire others to holiness. However, when one order is always chosen, some souls will grow weary because they like change. It is possible that continued use of the same order would exhaust their supply of the "best." I like the return of the good retreat master. I have made retreats given by the same one five times and am ready for another five more. Where I was in-clined to think the order produced the individuals, I've grown older and wiser and am sure that life, life-work, and production is all an individual job. There are two orders that I like best, but because in their members I have met real sanctity. We are in spirit and have made the effort to get priests, but this is not a hard and fast rule. We have had others and they have also been excellent. THOMA'S' DUBA'Y ¯ Review ~or ~V'e would become more broadminded if we had different orders. We hav~ the same order always, but many sisters have expressed the wish for men from different orders. Some orders of retreat masters adhere to one form of presentation more or less. ¯ . . I hate to say this but sometimes the meditation becomes boresome before he really starts. ~ iCrom different orders--However,'a priest of any order should not try to instill the particular virtues, customs or religious devotions of his order. He should not adopt an attitude that his order is superior to all others. This is boring. Sometimes a change of method is good. I like it when I do not know what the next conference is about. Wl£en the retreat masters come from different orders, they have a different approach and p~attern. This is good. I believe each order has its particular talents to offer, and being human, variations ofeven the most fundamental topics are appreciated.' I have made several retreats and having had' the same order of priests conducting them, I was able to tell almost exactly what incidents Father was about to discuss and in almost the same words he used. Sisters to whom the source of priests makes little difference: I have,made retreats under priests of several orders and I find the order doesn't make much difference--it is the personal sanctity, earnestness, and understanding that counts¯ It is not the order; rather it is the personal holiness of the priest which would be an inspiration to follow. As far as particular retreat masters are concerned, it really matters little who he is, where he is from, or what religious congreg, he represents. The important thing is that he himself is a truly spiritual man, well prepared td give the retreat, en-thusiastic for the cause--the cause of Christ and the interests of His consecrated Spouses. Can love them all! and respond to all. However, I think a religious priest would understand better community problems and regulations than secular priests. The habit does not make the retreat master; it's his union with the Divine Master that makes the difference in the retreat. I believe they should be chosen for their individual capabilities, not confined to orders at all. It might be a good idea if some center could be designated "~here one could send in names to be recommended and likewise receive such information. FAI~IfLIARITY WITH CONSTITUTIONS The. next item of inquiry offered results charac.terized by a greater degree of agreement than the preceding. Dealing with the retreat master"s, familiarity with the congregation's consfitutions, the quest.ion was framed in the fo!lowi.ng words: " Do you like the retreat master to be. familiar with the Constitutions of you~ ,. congregation and refer to them in his talk~? .-~, .yes ___no ___it makes little difference Further comment: danuaCg, 1956 SISTERS' RETREATS--][ The vast, majority of sisters, 616 (89.0%), desire the retreat master to be well acquainted with their particular constitution.s, while an exceedingly small° numl~er, 5 (.7 %), register an opposing vote. A small minority, 71 (10.3%), do not see that a knowledge of the constitutions makes very much difference. The latter group offered the following comments on their answers: I should like the retreat master to be f~miliar with the Rule but not necessarily the specifications given in Constitutions. Retreat should be a time of spiritual deep-ening. Intei'pretation of Constitutions belongs to the religious superior. I think it is more important that he know the spirit of the congregation than the actual constitutions, for every sister can read "these latter at any time herself. If he gives me the spiritual fundamentals, I can apply thXem to my own life. ,I know the practical details of my Rule and its spirit, better than he does. Often retreat masters interpret our rules in terms of the spirit of theic institutes. The sisters holding the majority opinion have a wide variet)~ of somewhat related reasons for their view: Very definitely. You prefer someone whose foundation is sound. It doesn't help you to gain the spirit of someone else's order. If your Constitution states specific virtues, it is more helpfhl to discuss these. Every sister knows that her Rule is her way of life and she has more confidence in you if you are willing to take the time to study God's plan for her. If he isn't familiar with the Rules and practices of tl~e community, it is the better part of wisdom not to assume that this community is exactly like that community'. It loses some of the rapport when a retreat master, for example, keeps referring to. "when you say the office; now in the recitation of the office, etc." when it so happens that your community, does not say the office. Knowing that the retreat master is familiar with the Constitutions makes it easier to discuss problems in confession. It is of no encouragement to have the confessor ask one: Do you have to do that? When I ask for guidance or enlightenment, I presume the confessor to know what I have to do and tell me frankly." If he is familiar with our Constitution he will know. Interpretation by someone outside the community sometimes brings a greater ap-preciation of the rule. The retreat is more practical, and you fed as though he is interested in your com-munity and the advancement of its members in the spiritual life. That is our custom and we prefer it. 'However, retreat masters must be prudent and careful, never permitting themselves the liberty of direct or indirect criticism of an approved rule. We had that ~xperience once and the sisters resented it. This is essential, I think, if a, pplications and illustrations are to be meaningful. As members of a religious congregation our sanctification will be attained by doing God's will according to the spirit and customs of our particular congregation. What better thing could be done during retreat than to .get more deeply acquainted with them? THOMAS DUBAY .It makes us feel he takes more interest and thus gives us more confidence. Customs and traditions are important and a talk on visits home to sisters who are not permit'ted to visit home is wasted. Very definitely. I have gone through whole retreats in which the talks were geared to teaching sisters, and our whole congregation is engaged in nursing. Besides the spirit of each community is different, also the practice of particular virtues, appli- .cation of rules, etc. I think the retreat master should discuss the Constitutions beforehand with some superior or the provincial in order to be sure he applies it as intended. We may conclude from these observations that ordinarily the retreat master will do well to read over a copy of the sisters' con-stitutions before he begins to prepare his retreat. Because it is in the nature of the written word to need a living interpreter, he can also with profit seek comments and observations on community customs 'and interpretations from some one of the older sisters. 'She will ordinarily be a superior. OUR CONTRIBUTORS THOMAS DUBAY, author of The Seminary Rule, is now at the Marist Col-lege, Washington, D. C. JOHN R. POST is master of novices at Shadowbrook, Lenox, Mass. JOHN 3. LYNCH is a professor of moral theology at Weston College, Weston, Mass. SOME RECENT PAMPHI'ETS GRAIL PUBLICATIONS, St. Meinrad, Indiana The Mass: Homage to God. By Paul R. Milde, O.S.B. Pp. 28. 15 cents. dog Is Your Heritage. By John M. Scott, S.J. Pp. 45. 15cents. The Holy Man of Ars. Saint dohn Baptist Vianneg. By Dom Ernest Graf, O.S.B. Pp. 40. 25 cents. Saint Luke Paints a Picture. Our Lady of Perpetual Help. By Sister M. Julian Baird, R.S.M. Pp. 8. 5 cents. FROM OTHER PUBLISHERS Spiritual Direction. A Current Bibliography. Department of Religion, University of Notre Dame, Notre Dame, Indiana. Pp. 11. Padre Magin Catala. By Aloysius S. Stern, S.J. University of San Francisco, San Francisco 17, California. Pp. 20. Free on request. So You're Going to Teach Religion. By Richard R. Baker, Ph.D. George A. Pflaum, Inc., Dayton 2, Ohio. 10 cents. Time Out to Think. By Gene J. Jakubek, S.J. San-Del Printing Co., 602 :Gratiot Street, St. Louis, Missouri. Pp. 22. 15 cents. 10 Novice Masl:er's Obliga!:ions Secrecy John R. Post, S.J. A master of novices by reason of his office is made the custodian of many secrets. His young charges in asking for direction confide in him their faults and spiritual difficulties, and in so doing they lay on him the obligation of concealing these faults from others. To reveal or even t-o use this knowledge outside the limits laid down for the entrusted secret would, of course, be sinful. Yet, a master is often obliged by canon 563 to give a report to higher superiors on the conduct of his novices; and, in order to protect the order from unsuitable members, he may even desire to dismiss a novice on the basis of knowledge learned only in confidence. Can he reveal or use such knowledge with a good conscience? This ap-parent clash of obligations poses a few moral problems which the following pages will attempt to solve. It will help at the beginning if we clarify in general the position of the novice master with regard to his novices. There is more to his job than the rejection of the unfit. He must also act as spiritual director. His work, then, is not exactly the same as the doctor's who examines candidates before entrance. The doctor's work is primarily for the benefit of the order and is known as such by the candidates. Father Vermeersch remarks that a doctor who examines applicants for their physical fitness is thereby excused from the obligation of keeping his entrusted secret as far as revealing his findings to the superior is concerned. The reason given is that the boy understands this to be the purpose of the examination and implicitly gives his ~onsent beforehand to the doctor's revelation. But, if a .novice master wants to carry on as a spiritual director, such a consent on the part of his novices cannot be presumed. Human nature being what it is, he could not expect young men to confide in him their faults and failings while they know that he is free to use this knowledge for their dismissal. So, 'to maintain the confidence of his charges, he must in his many interviews with them consider himself bound by the various secrets, except in the rare cases where the commo,n good allows revelation, trusting that divine providence and his own powers of persuasion will rid the order of undesirable members. GENERAL DOCTRINE ON SECRETS A secret is some hidden knowledge belongjng.to.a person by 11 JOHN R. POST Reoiew for Religious strict right, ,which cannot be sought after, used, or revealed by an-other con.treaty to the reasonable will of the owner. Thus the ob-ligation of keeping a secret usually derives from the virtues of both justice and charity. For example, to learn from reading the incoming mail that a novice's brother is thinking of becomi~3g a priest and to reveal it before the matter has b~come public might be displeasing to the novice and hence against charity. The act would also violate justice, first, because the information belongs only to the novice and his brother by strict right, and secondly, the act breaks an im-' plicit contract with the novice to keep secret the matter of his letters. Of the four different kinds of secrets-~confessionaI, entrusted, promised, and natural--only three have a definite place in the work of a novice master. The con~:essional secret concerns the knowl-edge communicate~d to a priest in the sacrament of penance.1 The entrusted secret is one that is confided to another under a con-tract that he will not use the information without the consent and according to the good pleasure of the giver. This contract is im-plied when one goes to consult with doctors, lawyers, or priests acting in their professional capacity. The natural secret concerns something one happens upon in the life of another and which the nature of human society demands should be kept secret. All three of these secrets bind under grave sin if their revelation' would be seriously harmful. On the other hand, moralists agree that there is.no secret-~ex~ cept the confessional--which does not have its limits. The reason is that no obligation to keep a human secret is so strong that a stronger obligation to reveal it cannot present itself. In other words, when an obligation to conceal interferes with a higher good, ~t shbuld cease. This principle, however diffic[dt in practice, is gen-erally recognized in theory. The Church overrides the obligation to keep a natural secret when she asks her children, to testify to im-pediments found in future spouses and priests. Doctors, too, are sometimes obliged to report bullet wounds to the police in accord-ance with the principle that the common good at times demands exceptions even to the entrusted secret. It is certain doctrine, there-fore, that the revelation of a human secret is justified when it i~ necessary to prevent preponderant h~arm to the community, to the owner of a secret, to its recipient, or to a third party. Sometimes, too, revelation can be justified if the consent of the owner'can be 1Though canon 891 forbids the master to hear novices' confessions generally, it does allow it in certain cases. , 12 January, 1956 OBLIGATIONS TO SECRECY reasonably presumed. THE CONFESSIONAL SECRET The. obligation of keeping secret whatever is known from a sacramental confession is the weightiest there is--stemming as it does from the divine law and protecting one of the most precious means of salvation. Every priest, therefore, is forbidden not only to reveal confessional knowledg,e, but even to use it in a way that would render this consoling sacrament odious or more burdensome to penitents. A novice master, for example, who knew only from confession that one novice had an aversion for another could not, without the permission of l~is penitent, use this information in making out the bands, or groups, for recreation, even though he knew it would be for the penitent's good. The reason why such use of confessional knowledge is forbidden is not merely that it might work a hardship on the individual penitent, but also that the very fact that if such use of confessional knowledge were permitted, it would be a-bur-den for penitents in general and would make confession more diffi-cult. Hence, even in a case in which the individual penitent might be pleased (e.g., because he was removed from the company of someone he found disagreeable), the novice master could not use the knowledge without express permission. One might think that the novice's permission for such changes as these could readily be presumed, but it is" the universal teaching of theologians today that permission may never be presumed for the use of confessional knowledge. The reason is again the same: if permission could sometimes be presumed, this would diminish the security the confessional is supposed to offer and thus make con-fession more difficult. During confession, of course, the master is free to advise, per-suade, and guide the penitent out of his difficulties and even to bring up m.,atter from previous confessions. But outside of confession, if be wishes to speak to the novice about confessional matters he should have permission. Such permiss!on would be implied if the novice himself took the first step by referring to matters he had confessed. Tt~tE ENTRUSTED SECRET It would seem that most of the novice master's knowledge of his charges will come under the heading of entrusted or committed secret. Because he is designated by the order as the spiritual father 13 JOHN R. POST~, . ~ . ; ~ Revieu~ for Religious 6f '.the .novices, ~there~is set up. between him and th~'m the mutual understanding that ,whatever is: confided to him will be kept hidden and~never used in any way that will jeopardize their interests. This promise or pledge.is inherent in his office; and, since the'common good not only of the novitiate, but of every community in which his novices w.ill _live depends' so much upon the confidence which they have in superiors, it is largely his duty to build up this con~ fidence in them from the very beginning. Some of the entrusted secrets are stricter than others, depending upon the channels through which they come to him, so we propose to treat them according to these several channels--secrets of mani-festation and spiritual direction, paternal denunciation and chapter -of faults, and inspection of mail. MANIFESTATION OF CONSCIENCE AND SPIRITUAL DIRECTION Next in strictness to the seal of confession is the secrecy which surrounds the rhanifestation of conscience. The reason for this is that'the manifestation, like the sacrament, has for its primary pur-' pose the spiritual Progress of the one making it, and to achieve this purpose some disclosure of conscience is necessary. Slnce, then, it comes so close in its matter and purpose to the sacrament of pen-ance, this .secret, of all the entrusted secrets, should be 'held the most sacred. Nev.ertheless, except in the case where the manifestation is made ~ander the seal of confession, more latitude is allowed the master in the use of what' he hears, always safeguarding, however, the rights and ~eeliflgs of the one who makes it, and always avoid-ing anything that 'would diminish confidence in. his office. The authors'who comment on this subject say that the novice aster '}nay not reveal anything heard in manifestation, even to higher superiors, without the consent of the novice. Thus, if a master were asked by his provincial or canonical visitor whether he had n.oticed an impediment in a certain novice, and the master knew of this impediment only through manifestation, he would be obliged to answer with a polite, "I do not know," or something similar. Wl~at then, if the impediment were an invalidating impediment --for. example, the novice had once apostatized from the Catholic Church~ and joined a non-Cath01ic sect--and the novice could not be persuade.d.to.d0 anything about it? The master may not reveal the. impe.dim.ent.o He may and should instruct the novice of his se~iou.syobligation to have the impediment removed before going L4" lanuat~, 1956 OBLIGATIONS TO SECRECY on; but, if the novice still refused, the mastei could neither reveal the impediment nor use. his knowledge for such things as dismiss-ing him, °or refusing to recommend him for vows, or even delaying his profession if the novice were acceptable on every other count. In matters such as-the foregoing, the secret of ~manifestation is, for all practical purposes, like the confessional secret. But when there is question merely of the spiritual good Of the novice, greater latitude would be allowed for the use of knowledge because, in some cases at least, permission to use manifestation knowledge may be presumed. The reasons for this are, first, that there is no absolute prohibition of presumed permission as there is in matter of con-fession, and. secondly, all n~vices understand that the novitiate is a time of probation where hard things will be asked of them-. More-over, in some orders novices are ins'tructed beforehand that-one of the purposes of the manifestation is to provide superiors with knowl-edge that will .help them to govern paternally, assign subjects to proper offices, guard them from temptations, etc. In strict right, then, the novice master can, unless the novice expressly forbids it. use manifestation knowledge to change his occupation, living quar-ters, companions, etc., provided that there is no danger of revela-tion and the best interests of both novice and the order are served. .But presumptions must yield to facts; so sometimes prudence may require that, before using this knowledge in a way displeasing to a novice, the master sound him out beforehand. Outside a novice's manifestation, of course, the master may speak to him irl private about sins mentioned, not in confession, but in manifestation in order to warn him or to exhort him to do better, provided that everything is kept under the same seal of secr.ecy; for these private interviews of spiritual direction partake of the nature of a manifestation. PATERNAL DENUNCIATION AND CHAPTER OF FAULTS According to Suarez, the denunciation of another's faults to .a superior as to a father is only a method of-fulfilling the, injunction of fraternal correction imposed on all Christians b) our Lo~d ih Matthew 18:15. Going on occasions to the st~perior first, instead of directly to the culprit, though a departure from the order estab-lished by our Lord, does, nevertheless, fulfill the gospel injunction substantially; for the superior, acting solely .as the instrument ,of the inforrfiant, is obliged to use this knowledge within the limits "of the informant's "ih~ention. 'Pr~siaming, then, that the-informant's JOHN R. POST Review for Religious intention is exclusively one of charity for a fellow novice, the master is obliged to act towards the delinquent as a lather, who desires ,only the correction and improvement of his son, not as a judge who, looking first to the common good, may for that end punish severely and even dismiss from the order. This being so, suppose a novice master learns from one boy that another has been speaking against the institute. Could he dis-miss the culprit or hold up his vows or give him a public penance on the strength of this denunciation alone? No, for this would be acting judiciall~l and contrary to the intention of the informant, whose only intention presumably was that the delinquent be ad-monished privately and Watched over for his own good. $o, in paternal denunciations the master is obliged to restrict his use of the denunciation to what is nicessary for the private correction of the delinquent. Can a superior reveal the matter of the denunciation to others? Not any more than is required to attain the end of the denunciation. But, if. it is necessary to tell the provincial, for example, in order to change the delinquent from one office to another, the master must warn him that this knowledge is in the paternal forum2 and cann6t be used judicially. If others have to be consulted, the same warning must be given to them and the name of the delinquent withheld. But, if it is impossible to get their advice without revealing the name, they must be bound to strict secrecy also. With regard to the use of such knowledge, the master may do whatever he judges necessary for the spiritual good o~ the delinquent short of notable injury to reputation and expulsion. Hence, he may admonish him privately, reprehend sharply, change his occupation, even though these may be repugnant to the novice. In all of this the novice master is bound under a double, secret to the informant. The first is an obligation not to use the knowl-edge contrary to his intention; the second not to reveal the name of the informant and to protect him against any harm that might be-fall him as a result of his act of charity. Both of these ard entrusted secrets. Obviously, if the fault is more serious and the intention of the informant is primarily to protect the community from an unworthy 2For a more complete explanation of the difference between the paternal forum and the judicial forum, the reader is referred to the article "Paternal Government and Filial Confidence in Superiors," by John C. Ford, S.J., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, II (1943), 146-55. 16 Januar~j, 1956"'" OBLIGATIONS ~: :to SECRECY member, then, this would not be a paternal but a judicial' denunci-ation; and the master would ~be free to proceed to dismissal if he judged it wise. When it is not clear, however, what kind of denunci-ation is being made, the master must question the informant about his intention; for he would be violating an entrusted secret if he began proceedings in the judicial forum without the consent of the informant. And this consent the latter is obliged to give as often as dismissal by. moral estimate is the only way to prevent grave injury to a third party or to the community. The chapter of faults, like the paternal denunciation, is another form of paternal correction. Here a novice in the presence of the master is admonished of his exterior faults by each of his fellow novices in turn. This should be done of course out of the sincerest charity, the only motive being to improve the individual spiritually. The master's use of information learned in chapter, therefore, is governed by the same principles that were laid down for the paternal denunciation, except that, since all present have already learned of the fault, he has more freedom as far as the reputation of the sub-ject is concerned. About this exercise Father John Ford, S.J., writes, "It is not proper to use judicially material revealed therein. The fact that all novices participate in this exercise does not change the principle. But the fact that all are present is the reason why only lesser ex-ternal faults are fit subject matter for revelation in the chapter, and why it would be improper for anyone to reveal anything serious enough to warrant the dismissal of a novice. If an imprudent novice. were to reveal such a fault, all present would be bound by the secret and the master of novices would be obliged to presume that the revelation was intended as part of the exercise of fraternal cor-rection, and therefore, not to be used judicially,, for example, by dismissing the novice." THE INsPEcTION OF MAIL , The last of the secrets entrusted to a novice master are those which be learns from the inspection of mail. Since this right of in-spectioh is given to him only to help in the paternal governm, ent of souls and to protect their interior lives from harm, he may never use this knowledge for any other purpose. As Father Genicot says, "He cannot make a wider use of it, unless he, can presume the con-sent of the writer or receiver, which cannot be presumed, of course, if it would cause hardship to either one.''3 Although the subject 3Tbeologia Moralis, 3rd ed., I, p, 395. 17 ~JOHN R. POST Review [or Religious matter of letters is not usually as confidential as that in the patelnal denunciation, still both are in the paterna! forum; and their use and revelation should follow the same principles. Canon 611 denies to all superiors the right to open letters of subjects to or from higher superiors. To do so, therefore, would be to invade the natural right of the subject; and, if a letter of this kind were opened by mistake, the knowledge so acquired could not be used without injustice. SOME IMPROBABLE CASES OF ENTRUSTED SECRETS Thus far we have taken for granted that revelation of an entrusted secret was not necessary to prevent serious harm to the community or to some third party. Now, let us consider some occasions when the preponderant harm done to others by concealment might seem to.justify the revelation of such a secret, or at least its use in dis-missing a novice. First, suppose a novice master discovered in man(festation that a novice had a habit of impurity that made him unfit for the re-ligious life and that might bring great harm to the community. Could the master reveal this knowledge to the provincial with a view to the novice's dismissal, if after exhortation the novice re-fused to go? Or, could the master himself use the knowledge to dismiss the novice without revealing the cause? It might seem at first that a master of'novices could reveal such knowledge to the provincial. And he could if it were only a ques-tion of choosing between the. harm to the individual novice and that threatening the community. But a third element enters into the case in favor of concealment, and that is the element of general confidence in the institution of manifestation as such. The moral harm done to a community by a loss of confidence in its spiritual directors is so great that moralists are inclined to say that no ex-ception to the secrecy of spiritual direction should be allowed.4 And, if we consider, as we have done, how close the manifestation comes to the sacrament of confession in its matter' and its purpose, we should not wonder that, more than all the other entrusted secrets, it should share somewhat in the inviolability of that sacrament. ~A principal difficulty against this solution seems to come from an, analogy, with other entrusted secrets. Most theologians, for in~- :(Cf. Francis J. Connell, C.SS.R., American Ecclesiastical Review, March, 1953, pp. 200-201; John C: Ford, S.J., "and Gerald Kelly, S.J., ,'Theological StudieL March, 1954, pp. 83-84. 18 ~ ]anuarg, 1956 OBLIGATIONS To'SECREC~ stance, will allow a doctor, to warn a prospective bride qf he finds that her fianc~ has a contagious disease which would threaten her health and future happiness. Here is an entrusted secret which can. be revealed to protect a third party, why cannot the same be done~ '~ove? Because, though both are entrusted secrets, still the s.ecret. of manifestation is on a higher level than that of the medical secret; for the confidence which men have in their spiritual directors is both more important for the common good and also more fragile than. the confidence they have ifi their doctor.s, though both are important. For all practical purposes, therefore, the secret of manifestation should be kept almost as inviolable as that of confession. Can the novice master in the~ case above use the manifestation knowledge to dismiss the novice without revealing the secret to any-one.? Even if he had the power from the provincial, it would seem that he should forego the bare use of it for purposes of dismissal. Father Ren~ Brouillard says that, although in strict right a superior could, to avert a preponderant harm to th~ community, use mani-festation knowledge against an individual, still it would be prefer-able for reasons of prudence and discretion not to use it euen in extreme cases because this kind" of secret approaches the nature of the confessional secret; and a betrayal might easily mean the loss of confidence by'the whole community,5 Next, take a case involving a secret' learned only in paternal denunciation. One novice reports to the master that another has been the aggressor in a mutual sin of unchastity: and, when ques-tioned by the master, the culprit admits it, but says that it is the only time he has ever sinned that way and he is really con- "trite. Moreover, the master cannot persuade him to go willingly. When the master questions the informant about his intention i.n making the denunciation, he finds that it was ~nly to help the. culprit to amend. Hence, if the informant is unwilling to let the master act judicially, the master's hands are tied. The reason is that the threat to the moral health of the community or third ¯ party does not seem to be great enough to excuse from the entrusted secret, especially since other means such as exhortation and separ-. ation of the two novices can still be tried to avert the danger. But," if it were clear that the delinquent were confirmed .in a habit of unchastity with others, then the master, after using all other means,. could resort to dismissal even without, the consent of the informant; fbr the d~iinquent wou'ld in this c~se ,constitute a proportionately gRevue des comrnunautes religieuses, III (1927), 104. 19 JOHN R. POST Review for Religious grave threat to the virtue and reputation of the community. Lastly, suppose the master of novices learns through the inspec-tion of mail that one of his charges just before vows has a debt of $10,000 hanging over his head. His creditor, knowing the situa-tion, writes in his letter that he. intends to "bleed" the order for the sum after vows. The master knows of thi~ debt only through this letter and is unable to persuade the novice to leave. What he to do? In this case to protect'the order from serious harm, the master could dismiss the novice, despite his pbjections; and, if it were necessary to forestall distrust, he might even make public the reason for dismissal. Such cases, thank God, are very rare among novices, due largely to the careful examinations they go through before entrance and also to the fact that, when there is just reason for dismissal, they can usually be made to see it. But, when a case like the above does arise, the master must remember that in choosing between two evils charity always obliges him to choose the less; the two evils here being the harm to be done to the community or to a third party by his concealment, and the harm to the culprit and the institution of fraternal correction, or manifestation, c;r inspection of mail by his revelation. NATURAL SECRETS When the ordinary religious observes an otherwise hidden fault of a fellow religious, he is bound in justice and charity not to re-veal it any more than is necessary, in this matter the novice master is not like an ordinary religious. As regards his novices, he is not only a spiritual director, but also a superior. If he should find a novice engaged in some prank, he would certainly not violate justice by giving him a public penance--though he might violate charity if a private admonition were sufficient for the correction of the cul-prit and for the preservation of religious discipline. Moreover, if the fault were sufficiently serious, he could proceed to the dismissal of the novice. Novices recognize from the beginning that the master ha~ this right, for they know that they are undergoing an exam-ination by the order. A~.d just as in a scholastic examination the results can be used by the teacher to dismiss a boy from school, without any violation of a natural secret, so too in the use of this knowledge which he. acquired from personal observation the master of novices has the widest scope in which to exercise his administrative powers. 2O January/, 19~6 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS As regards externs, the novice master has the same basic duty as others to preserve the natural secret. Suppose, for instance, that he had dismissed a novice for some fault that he had observed, and later were asked by a school or a business firm for the cause of the boy:s dismissal. He would be violating a natural secret were he to reveal this fault if it would not unfit the boy for business or a stu-dent's career." The case, however, 'would be some'what different if be were asked to give testimonial letters concerning an ex-novice of his who wanted to enter another religious order, for here canon 545,n.4, makes it clear that merely natural secrets must give way to the needs of the Church. By the same token he is bound to re-veal the natural secrets of his novices when ordered to do so by his own higher superiors; and, if they are significant enough, he may include them in his regular report (can. 563). CONCLUSION To sum up, then, the master of novices must try to balance as best he can the interests of both the order and the individual soul; and, when any one of his obligations to secrecy seems to tie his hands~ let him take consolation from the words of the divine master, "Let them both grow until the harvest . . . lest while you gather up the cockle, you root up the wheat also together with it." ( ues ons ncl Answers I In my striving for perfection I find if difficult to submit to God's will by acceptlncj my superior as she. is. Her inconsistencies induce murmur-ing; her injustice provokes scandal; her partiality seems at times unbear-able. What can I do about it? Sister might do well to cultivate the habit, by reading, reflection, prayer, exercise, experience, etc., of seeing the whole matter through God's eyes, as it were, and then of feeling about it as that vision suggests. God sees the superior's imperfections, but also the good consequences that sooner or later He can draw out of them. He does not like her inconsistencies either; but He does not expect human beings to be completely qonsistent, and He will make those deviations conduce to greater good eventually. Similarly He views 21 :QUi~'~IONS"AND ANSWERS Review [oF Religio~s "her injustice and,partiality and disapproves of them; ~but they also ¯ ~re tolerated in His infinitely, wise a'nd holy' and potent designs. He '.knows that if sister shouldobey an imperfect superior perfectly, hei? ¯ obedience would be all the more excellent, and more to His glory, ,and especially to her own pleasure and gain and sanctity in" the end. She would also be more Christlike, with all the advantages ' that this likeness implies; Christ's obedience would haste been rela- ¯ tively commonplace had the powers, in His time been just what :they should have been. The malice and unreasonableness of His persecutors were His opportunity. : May. a religious, without seekln9 permission from his superior, offer his life to God, that is, volunteer to let God take his life for some special pur-pose? Whatever good there is in such an act is contained in loving God with all one's forces, or in trying to accomplish the will of God "on earth as in heaven," or in being perfect as one's heavenly Father is perfect; and very obviously no permission is required for such practices. Superiors do,not have authority in the matter of directly terminating life. Even if. they did, it would seem that one could go over their heads to the Supreme Superior of all superiors. --AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD, S.J. I am a sister and a supervisor on a hospital hall. I wanted to cjo to confession. A priest of one of the ~:ify parishes had finished visiting a patient, and I asked him to hear my confession in a vacant room on the hall and also told him that I could not !eave the hall becauseof a patient. who was in a critical condition and r.equired constant attention. He kept hesltatincj and asklncj me questions. Finally he said he could~not hear my .confession outside of the confessional in the chapel. Why couldn't he? This priest, since he had jurisdiction for the confessions of .other women in the diocese but did not antecedently possess special .jurisdiction over you/ a religious woman, is. termed the occasional confessor of religious women. He could hear your confession validly .only in the legitimate place. This is the only case in which place is required .for the t~alidity of a confession. The confessions of women, including religious women, may not be heard licitly ohtside of the .confessiorial except in a case of sickness or for other reasons of about ~the same or greater import than sickness (c.,910,' § 1). If such a :reason existed, he could have heard your .confes~i0fi bdth validly danuary, 1956 ' QUESTION'S AND ANSWERS and licitly outside the confes.sional, e.g., in the room you mentioned, Examples of such sufficient reasons are those of a sister'confined~ to her room by a sickness that is not serious, deafness, a sister who wishes to go to confession but cannot leave a patient, the probable danger of, a sacrilegious confession or Communion, the probable danger ofserious infamy or scandal, of gossip in the community, or shame or fear with regard to going to the confessional. The prudent and at least probable judgment of the confessor of the sufficiency of the reason for hearing the confession outside the confessional is all that is required. Regatillo gives what appears to me to be a very sound practical norm of action for a confessor when he is requested to hear the confession of a religious woman outside the confessional and the sufficiency of the reason is not immediately clear to him. The confessor is to indicate the prohibition of hearing a confession in this manner except for a sufficient reason; but, if the religious woman insists, he may hear the confession outside the confessional Any .precautions prescribed by the local ordinary on the confessions of women outside the confessional are to be observed. A sufficient reason existed in this case, and the confession could therefore have been heard both validly and licitly outside the confessional. Cf. Regatillo, Institutiones Iuris Canonici I, 355; De Carlo, De Religiosis, n. 172, 5 ; Genicot-Salsmans, Theoloqia Moralis, II, Ed. 17, n. 319. Our constitutions read: "In ~he practice of ordinary private corporal mortifications and penances, the sisters are to be directed by the judcj-ment of the confe'ssor alone; for external and public acts they must have also the permiss~ion of the local superior." I am a mother provincial, and I have a sister who is practicin9 private penance with the consent of her confessor in a way that is injurious to both her physical and mental health. Are her local superior and I simply powerless to do anything? This article of the constitutions is to be interpreted according to the practice of the Holy See in approving constitutions. Accord-ing to this practice, the permission of a confessgr or spiritual director suffices for private acts of mortification and penance. A superior may" also grant this permission. It is more prudent tb consult one,of these, especially for habitual acts; but permission is not o~ obliga-tion unless this obligationqs stated in the laws or customs of the institute. For public acts, i.e., those dbne in the presence of at least a good part of the community, such as the community penanc~'s ~ir~ the refectory, the permission of the superior is necessary, rail su- QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Reoiew [or Religious periors also have the right of vigilance, over private acts and may moderate or forbid such acts, even if permitted by a confessor or spiritual director, when they create a danger to health, religious discipline, or the work of' the institute. All such matters of their very nature fall under the government of superiors, e.g., the care of the health of subjects is not only a right but also an obligation of superiors. --S-- In our community we have always recited the Little Office of the B.V. M. in English. Do we cjain ÷he indulcjences granted for the recitation of this office? The indulgences are listed in the Raccolta, n. 318. Can. 934, § 2, enacts that the indulgences attached to prayers may be acquired by .reciting the prayers in any language, provided the translation is approved. The Little Office of the B. V. M. is an exception to this norm, since the Holy See has declared that for the gaining of its indulgences this office must be recited in Latin when the reci-tation is public but may be recited in the-vernacular when the recitation is private. The Holy See has also defined private recita-tion in this matter. "The recitation of the Little Office of the B. V. M. is still to be held as private although done in common within the confines of the religious house and even when done behind closed doors in a church or public oratory attached to the house." (Acta Sanctae Sedis, 40 [1907], 187-88.) The common or choral reci-tation of the office by sisters is within the confines of the religious house, since it is done in the semipublic oratories of convents. If exceptionally a community Should recite this office in a church or public oratory attached to the house, the doors are considered open only when the public is admitted generally or indiscriminately, not when a few determined persons are allowed to enter. There-fore, not only the individual but also the choral recitation of this office in the houses of religious is to be considered~ private and, if done in the vernacular, sufficient for the indulgences in either case. Cf. Beringer-Steinen-Maz0yer, Les Indulgences, I, nn. 206, 756; De Angelis, De Indulgentiis, n. 92; Heylen, De Indulgentiis, 67; Battandier, Guide Canonique, n. 272. Is ÷here any law of the Church on the name or title of a religious insfi-÷ufe? This legislation is found in can. 492, § 3, which prescribes that 24 danuar~l, 1956 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS new.congregations may not assufiae the name of any religious in-stitute already established. It is sufficient that the flame be somewhat different, e.g., Sisters of St. 3oseph of Cluny, Sisters of St. doseph of Newark. The title or name of the congregation may be taken from the attributes of God, the mysteries of our holy faith, some feast of our Lord or the Blessed Virgin, the saints, or the special purpose of the congregation. The name should not be artificial nor should it express or imply any form of devotion that is not ap-proved by the Holy See. If I may presume to add anything to this law and practice of the Holy See, I would suggest that the name should not be unduly long; and I would emphasize this suggestion even more for the names of provinces and especially of houses. --7-- Is it a fact that the Holy See stated that sisters are not to lower their veil before or after receiving Holy Communion.7 Some communities have stopped doing so; others still do it. I have no knowledge of a published statement of the Holy See directly on this practice. The S. Congregation of the Sacraments did say: "When Holy Communion is being received, all those things are to be avoided which create greater difficulty for a young person who wishes to abstain from Holy Communion, but in such a way that his abstinence will not be noticed" (Bouscaren: Canon Lau; Di- _ gest, II, 214). It can also be held that the same principle is implicit throughout this instruction, which treats of daily Communion and the precautions to be taken against abuse. It would be more in the spirit of this instruction to eliminate the practice. Even prescinding from the instruction, I see no good reason for the retention of the practice. It is also the cause at least of wonderment to small children when done in church. The same lack of reasonableness is to be predicated of an unna.turally slow pace in approaching the altar rail or in returning to one's place in the chapel or church. Like the rubrics of the Church, other practices should express reverence in a natural manner. --8-- I am a religious priest and,regularly say the community Mass in a con-vent. May I never say the Masses of my own institute? Convent chapels are semipublic oratories? The principal semi-public oratory is tba~ used for the religious exercises, especially for the hearing of Mass; other chapels of the house are secondary semi- 25 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review [or Religiou's public oratories.~ The generhl principle is that the place of celebra-tion determines'the ordo (calendar) to be followed for Mass. Tl~erefore: 1. In the principal semipublic oratory, every priest, diocesan or .re!igious, must say Mass according to the ordo of such an oratory, whether the ordo is diocesan or proper to the religious, e.g., "Fran-ciscan,~ Dominican. a. The priest does not follow the special rites or ceremonies of religious orders or churches, e.g., a diocesan priest does not me, ntion the founder of a religiotis order in the Cont~iteor. b. The. priest may celebrate votive or requiem Masses permitted by the ordo of such an oratory, even though not permitted by his own ordo. ' c. When the ordo of such an oratory permits private votive Masses, the priest may say the Mass of the office of the day for such a place or a votive or requiem Mass, and in all of these he follows the ordo of the oratory in every respect. Or he may say the Mass that cor-responds to his own ordo, even if only that of a blessed. If he does so, he is to say the Mass in the festal, not votive,' manner, i.e., he says the Mass exactly as he would in his own church or oratory. d. The norm for a principal semipublic oratory applies also to a church "and a public oratory. 2. In the secondary semipublic oratories, a priest may.but is not obliged to follow the ordo of the place of celebration. He may and ,prefer.ably should follow his own ordo, because of the general prin-ciple that the Mass should as far as possible be in conformity with the office. 'This norm also applies to Mass in a private oratory and outside a sacred place. ~ 3. The ordo of the oratories of lay religious is the diocesan i~rdo except in the case of religious who have a proper ordo. In practice a proper ordo will be found only iia the second'order of nuns or third orders of c0ngreg.ation~s of sisters. These have the right of following the ordo of the first order of religious men to which they are affili-ated, e.g., Franciscan sisters have the right of following the ordo of the first order.of Franciscan men to which they are affiliated. An in-stitute subject to the diocesan ordo may also have some special Masses granted by the Holy See. 4.~. Cardinais and bishops have the privilege of following' tl~eir own ordo wherever they celebrate. Cf. J'. O'Connell, The Celebra-tion of Mass, 58-61.'---JOSEPH F. GALLEN, S.J. 26 I:'orbidden;,. Re ding John J. Lynch~ S.J. | T-is 'rather cor~mon knowledge among Catholics that ~l~e Church | forbids her subjects to read certain publications which she~judges would be a threat to faith or morals. Beyond ~hat g~neric"facL however, common knowledge does not proceed very far--partiall~r, perhaps, because more detailed information is not a practical ne-cessitj" for the many who prefer to restrict their reading either 'to professedly Catholic publications or to literature which di3es not verge ori religious or moral matters. But it' is also unfortunately true that more detailed information on this law is not abundantly available except.in technical manuals of moral theology and canon law. Hence even those who desire or need enlightenment find them-selves under a certain handicap for want of informationa.l sources. It is primarily for that latter reason that the subject appears, ap-propriate to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Even though limitations of spac? forbid an exhaustive treatment here, it may be possible to in-dicate the basic principles involved and to recommend for more de-tailed explanation other authors' whose writings in the vernacular are conveniently available. THE CHURCH'S RIGHT TO CONTROL RI~ADING The point of departi~re for any intelligent discussion of this question is the established fact that the Church is divinely instituted, vested with full right to teach authoritatively and to rule in matters religious, and charged byr Christ Himself with the responsibility .~f safeguarding Catholic faith and morals. In these matters the voice of the Church is the voice of God and commands the same unques- [ioning obedience which is due the word of God Himself. Further-more-- a psychological fact which any rational individual must ad-mit- the printed word Can and does exert on the human intellect .and will a most powerful influence for both good and evil and is, consequently, a mighty factor in the preservation or destruction of personal faith and morals. Hence in all reasonableness we must concede the right and duty of the Church, if she deems .it necessary, to exercise a measure of control over the literature we read anal to establish norms and regulations whereby the faith and morals" of her subjects will be protected from what we might call "subversive influences," Neither her authority in that sphere, nor her essential 'wisdom in the exercise of that authority, Can be yalidly que~tioned :2,7 JOHN J. LYNCH Reoieto for Religious once we face the fact of her institution by God as official and ~iuthori-tative custodian of faith and morals. THE FACT OF LEGISLATIVE CONTROL In wl~at specific form has the Church de facto expressed her pro-hibition against certain publications? For practical purp6ses we need consider but two documents, one of which restricts itself to the presentation of generic norms which proscribe certain type~ of lit-erature, while the other provides an enumeration of individual works and authors condemned specifically by name. This latter chtalogue is commonly referred to as the Index of Forbidden Books; the more generic legislation is derived from Book III of the Code of Canon Law. They are not mutually independent and unrelated documents, as we shall see. And while the Index is probably more fa~iliar to most people as a term of reference, it is the Code upon which we lean more heavily when decision must be made regarding our freedom to read certain literature. Occasionally, too, local bishops will exercise their rightful .author-ity in this regard and forbid their respective subjects to read ~pecified publications. But since legislation of that kind is invariably brought to the immediate attention of the faithful from the puligit and through the diocesan press, there is no need here to delay; on that species of prohibition. I. THE CODE OF CANON LAW: CANON 1399 Canon 1399 lists eleven different categories of writing:which, regardless of title or specific author, are automatically classified as forbidden reading for Catholics. It is in no sense of the Word an arbitrary catalogue. Divine natural law obliges us to avoid;'if p?s-sible, reading anything which may imperil our faith or mortal recti.- tude. The Church in her wisdom and from the wealth of her ex-perience has merely specified that fundamental obligation of natural law by indicating in this canon various classes of literature, which are most likely to pose such a threat to the average individual. Since her norm of judgment is the ~iverage Catholic, and because We must concede the existence of Catholics who are above average in knowl-edge. of their faith and in unswerving adherence to its priniiples, a word about the pectiliar nature of this law is necessary for° an ap-preciation of its obliging force~ Law Foundbd on Presumption The law enunciated in cani3n 1399 is of the type which is said 28 danuar~t; 1956 FORBIDDEN READING to be: ;"founded on presumption." In other words, the legislator of such .a statute first, with good reason, pre.sumes something to be uhiversally true, and then on the basis of that presumption formu-lates a~ law. Presumption of Fact What is presumed as true may be a fact of some sort, on the assumed universality of which legislation is thereupon enacted. If, however, the fact presumed can be disproVen as non-existent in a given:instance, the law based thereon collapses in a sense, i.e., does not oblige in that individual case. Such laws are said to be "founded on a l/resumption of fact"; and it is the intention of the legislator that his law shall not bind in isolated instances where by way of excepiion the presumed fact is not verified. Perhaps an example will further clarify this notion of presump-tion of fact. Civil law, for instance, holds a husband legally re-sponsible for the support of all children born to his wife during their marriage. The fact on which that legislation is founded is the presumption, valid in the .great majority of cases, that a husband is the~natural father of his wife's children. If, however, contrary fact can be proven in an individual case, the law yields to that fact and dbes not apply in that particular instance. Presumption of Universal Danger Another presumption upon which legislation is sometimes based is that. of universal danger, i.e., danger to the common welfare. In this case a certain act is reasonably presumed to be usuaIl~t dangerous to the.individual and as alu~a~s a threat to the common good if not contr'o]led by law in each individual case. Hence the presumption, .or basis for the law, is twofold and directly regards not only the welfare of individual subjects but also and primarily the good of the commhnity as a whole. For this latter reason such a law does not cease t}o oblige the individual even if it should be apparerlt that the act in question threatens no danger to him personally; for there remains the further presumption that to allow individuals to make that d_ecislon for themselves will inevitably pose a threat to the common good. Thus, for example, in time of severe drought some communities 'have" f6rbidden all outdoor fires unless in each case a permit be first obtalne~t from local civil authority. Such a prohibition is founded on the'presumption tbat'danger to the community cannot be effec-tively ~iverted.if private citizens are allowed to decide for themselves ,JOHN J. LYNCH Review for Religious what precautions are adequate against ,uncontrolled conflagration. Hence civil authority reserves that decision to itself; and despite the acttial efficacy of .the precautions he may take, the individual will be held liable if he lights a fire without the permission of proper officials. For the primary presumption still obtains, viz., that it is dangerous to the common good to permit individuals to make such decisions for themselves without supervision. Presumption of Canon 1399 It is on this latter presumption of universal danger that the Church bases her law prohibiting certain types of literature. She recognizes th'e fact that the general faith will be imperiled if in-dividuals are allowed to judge for themselves in these cases the presence or absence of personal danger. Consequently this law is intended to oblige even those who have every reason to believe that the reading of° certain forbidden matter will not in the least affect their personal faith or morals. In the interests of the common good, the .right to pass judgment on that question is legitimately reserved by the Church to herself. Hence this positive law of the Church is designedly more strict than is natural .law on the same point. Natural law demands only that one avoid reading what is dangerous to oneself; positive Church law requires that we refrain also from reading whatever ecclesiastical~ authority }~as judged to be a threat to the faith and morals of the average individual. Natural law obliges us to consult only our own consciences when choosing matter for reading: ecclesiastical" law en-joins the further obligation of consulting designated superiors be-fore we can consider ourselves free to read certain publications. Extent of Canon 1399 Before summarizing the content of canon 1399, a brief word about the extent of the prohibition which this law expresses: 1. With the ~xception of cardinals, bishops, and several other .high ecclesiastics, all Catholics--clergy and religious as well as the laity--are subject to the Church's law of forbidden reading. It .goes without saying, of course, that no exemption from this positive law can ever imply freedom from natural law. Regardless of dig-nity or rank, no individual can escape the obligation of avoiding as far as possible any reading which may de facto constitute for him personally a threat to faith or morals., It is only within that area where positive precept is more stringent than naturhl law that cer-tain Church dignitaries are declared immune from obligation, on ,]anuarg. 1956 FORBIDDEN READING the legitimate presumption th~at the same exceptional qualities which merit them their rank will likewise guarantee their immunity from the harmful effects of the literature condemned by ecclesiastical law. 2. We are forbidden not only to read certain literature, but also to publish it, retain it in our possession, translate it into other lan-guages, and to sell or in any other way make it available to others. 3.' Although the Code speaks primarily of books, it also ex-plicitly states that, unless the contrary is evident in a particular con-text, the law applies equally to all manner of publications, whether booklets, pamphlets, magazine or newspaper articles, if these are substantially concerned with forbidden matter. 4. The prohibitions of this canon, although binding gravely in conscience, are not absolute in the sense of removing certain pub-lications irrevocably beyond the reach of Catholic readers. As will be seen later,in more detail, permission ~o read such matter can and will be granted v~hen reasonable request is made of proper authority. With these preliminary notions in mind, a glar)ce at the stipu-lations of canon 1399 will provide at least .a bird's-eye view of the literary area proscribed by ecclesiastical law. To cope with all the legal ramifications of this complex statute would require that genius and skill peculiar to professional canonists, and for that reason the following survey is purposely restricted to the larger aspects of the law. _As a possibl~ aid to memory,, the exact order of the canon itself has been abandoned in an effort to gather its finer and more elusive details within several broader categories. The four divisions actually employed here are still not completely distinct from one another; but they may serve to fix more firmly in the reader's memory the various types of literature which the Church considers most likely to exert a malign influence on the faithful. A. SCRIPTURAl. WORKS Since the Bible is the word Of God Himself and one of the au-thentic sources whence we derive the revealed truths of our Catholic faith, the Church has always exercised extreme vigilance over the exact letter and substance of Holy Scripture. As the constituted guardian of divine revelation, she insists therefore upon her exclusive right to pass judgment on any publication which attempts to repro-duce or to interpret the Bible either in whole or in part. Scientific scholarship, if exercised competently, objectively, and without bias, will never contradict the scriptural teaching of the Church. But there always remains the possibility 'that unscientific methods, re- 31 JOHN J. LYNCH Re~ieu~ /:or Religious ligious prejudice, or misdirected piety will adulterate the conclu-sions of biblical scholars; and for that reason the Church has re-stricted our right to read two classes of scriptural writings: 1. All editions of Hol~l Scripture which are compiled or pub-fished bq non-Catholics, whether these editions be presented in the language in which they were originally written or in ancient or modern translation--in other words, any non-Catholic edition of the Bible or parts of the Bible. The example which comes immediately to mind is the King James version so commonly used by English-speaking non-Catholics. But those who have engaged in biblical studies may also recognize such standard works as Rudolph Kittel's Biblia Hebraica, Psalterium duxta Hebraeos Hieronqmi by J. M. Harder, Nestle's Novum Testa-mentum, and Chicago Bible, an English translation of old and new testament compiled by a group of scholars under the auspices of the University of Chicago. All of these, as well as numerous others, are automatically ban'ned for most Catholics. By way of excep-tion, however, the Code allows anyone who is engaged in the study of either theology or scripture to make use of such works, provided that they are known to be faithful and integral reproductions of the original and to contain nothing by way of annotation or com-mentary which impugns Catholic dogma. Under the same. proviso, this privilege also applies to vernacular translations by Catholics when the reason for their prohibition (as explained immediately below) is failure to obtain proper ecclesiastical approbation. 2. Scriptural publications of Catholic authors who have failed to observe ecclesiastical law regarding prior censorship. (One infallible sign of proper compliance with this requirement is the "Imprimatur" usually found at the beginning of religious books published by Catholics.) Hence (a) Catholic editions of the Bible text, either in the original language or in translation, 0s well as (b) annotations'and commentaries on Sacred Scripture, are prohibited reading if they are published even by Catholics without proper ecclesiastical examination and approval. B. WRITINGS DESTRUCTIVE OF FAITH Faith can be understood here in a rather broad sense so as to include firm intellectual a~sent not only to those dogmas solemnly defined or traditionally taught by the Church as having been re-. vealed by God, but also to what may be termed the rational pre-rqquisites of faith in that strict, sense and the corollaries which 32 danuarg, 1956 FORBIDDEN READING logically follow from revealed truth. In order to protect effectively the hard core of revelation, the Church must also guard that peri-phery of truths and principles which, although not divinely revealed or solemnly defined, are inextricably linked to the deposit of faith. It is with this realization that canon 1399 goes into some detail-- repetitiously perhaps in spots--as to the various species of writing forbidden as pernicious to Catholic faith. 1. Writings which attack or ridicule Catholic dogma, or which impugn religion in general, or attempt in ang wag to destro~t the fun~aments of religion; publicatiohs which defend heresy, schism. or other errors condemned by the Holy See. This synthesis of several sections of canon 1399 comprises two generic methods of discrediting the Catholic faith: the direct attack whereby the positive teaching of the Church is allegedly refuted and claimed to-be false: and the more indirect approach whereby, even perhaps without explicit reference to Catholicism, certain false doctrines are defended as ostensibl~ true. The threat in. either case is reductively the same: either to wean the reader away from the true faith through disparagement or specious argu-ments or to attract him intellectually or emotionally to beliefs which a're opposed to Catholicism. When the Code speaks of attacking theological truth or of de-fending doctrinal error, it implies a deliberate, methodical, concen-trated attempt to prove or disprove by means of formal argumen-tation. Isolated and gratuitous assertions, incidental to some other predominant and harmless theme, would not suffice to verify this notion. So too of ridicule, calumny, skepticism, and the like. If such aspersions be persistent and an integral part of an author's manifest thesis they can go a long way towards creating doubt about re-ligious truth and can be sufficient to classify a work as condemned, under this heading. Heresy in theological terminology is th~ pertinacious denial or doubt of any truth which has been infallibly declared by the Church to be part of divine revelation. It is the rejection therefore of dogma, which signifies any doctrine so taught by the Church. By schism is meant the refusal of one already baptized to submit to the 're-ligious authority of the pope or to live in communion with the members of the Church who do acknowledge his authority. Over and above these more blatant defiances of ecclesiastical teaching authority, there-are other doctrines which may not di, rec~ly contradict the above-mentioned truths but which are at 33 JOHN J. LYNCH Reuieto /:or- Rel~'gious variance with certain other theological pri~nciples or conclusions which the Church defends as certainly true even though not con-tained perhaps in the direct revelation of Christ. Denial of these truths is condemned by the Church not as heretical but as false or erroneous. The :undaments o: religion are natural or supernatural order, on ness of our faith. Among these last and immortality of the human soul, bility and fact of divine revelation, all those truths, whether of the which depends the reasonable-' would be classified the existence freedom of the will, the possi-the possibility of miracles, 'etc. Many of these "fundaments" have also been explicitly taught by the Church, and hence would qualify also under one or another of the preceding paragraphs. With regard to the writings of the ver~f early heretics, theologians generally admit that they are not at the present time forbidden ab-solutely, at least to those who are well versed in the faith. The reason they alleg~e i~ that the errors defended in these ancient works have long since been universally recognized as false and no longer pose a common threat of perversion. Hence such collections as those of Labbe or Migne may be kept intact and their contents read~ even though they do include some of the heretical writings of ¯ Tertullian, Eusebius, Origen, and others. The same exception, however, cannot be made for the works of Luther, Calvi;a, Jansenius, and their like, whose errors are still extant and still dangerous. There is no need, however, to return to the Reformation era to find examples of literature which explicitly attacks theologidal truth or defends theological error. Unfortunately such writing is all too plentiful even in our own day. Christ and Catholicism, for instance, by Frederick A. Johnson .(New York: .Vintage Press,. 1954) openly attacks Catholicism both by specious argument and by ridicule, defends heresy, and propounds lesser theological errors. Its subtitle, "A Provocative and Trenchant Analysis of the Real Re-lationship Between Christianity and the Roman Catholic Church," is an accurate portents°of "its theme insofar as the real relationship alleged is one of substantial incompatibility rather than that of identity. Teachings explicitly attacked in one way'or another in-clude the apostolic origin and succession of popes, the indefecti-bility of Church doctrine, devotion to our Lady, the divine insti-tution of the Mass and the dogma of transubstantiation, the effi-cacy of indulgences and sacramentals, and th~ divine origin of all the sacraments except baptism and the Eucharist. (It is significant, 34' FORBIDDEN READING incidentally,, to note on the dust jacket that rMr. Johnson's education ?and background are technblogical, his occupation that of engineeri'ng, his "interest" philosophy, and his hobbies travel, music, and photo-l~ raphy.) Less crude in its presentation, and motivated perhaps by the best of misdirected intentions, is Giovanni Papini's The Devil (New York: E. P. Dutton ~ Co., 1954), originally published in Italian as II Diabolo. The heretical thesis which the author strives to estab-lish is that God's love and mercy are incompatible with an eternal hell and that we may therefore hope that eventually even Satan may achieve salvation and hell cease to exist. 2. Writings which disparage divine worship, which seek to undermine ecclesiastical discipline, or which deliber'ately and per-slstently hold up to opprobrium the ecclesiastical hie?arch~l or the, clerical or religious state. Although literature of this kind is not aimed so directly against the content of Catholic doctrine, it is not difficult to appreciate the pernicious effect it could have on the practical, faith of individuals. Divine worship in this context is not restricted to the Catholic liturgy, but includes any act by which man~ honors God in Him-self or in His saints. As in the previous category, it is not a ques-tion here of occasional disparaging remarks which may be made in passing by an author, but rather of the calculated development at some notable length of an opprobrious theme. Nor is it sufficien.t that individual clerics, religious, or members of the hierarchy be the, target of such abuse. In order to classify as prohibited reading, attack of this kind must ordinarily be leveled against those states of llfe as ecclesiastical institutions. Christ and Catholicism, mentioned just previously in another context, also amply exemplifies almost every" detail of this category of writing. The chapters on the Mass, the priesthood, the sacra-ments-- to cite only the more blatant--are intent upon establishing our liturgy as farcical pantomime and our priesthood .and hierarchy as sacrilegious usurpations of divine power and authority. 3. Those writings of non-Catholics which treat formally" of religion, unless, it be clear that they contain nothing contrary to Catholic faith. There is every good reason to ,hold suspect the religious writings of. non-Catholics,'wl~ose very segregation from the Church is ~itse.lf religious error and creates strong presumption against, the "cukacy' of ahy religious doctrine they would hold' 6r fea~h. Heh~e 3'5 JOHN J. LYNCH Reoieto t:or Religious the Church forbids us to read such literature until we have ascer-tained through some reliable source that it contains no substantial theological error. Religion must here be understood in" its widest sense as includ-ing whatever pertains to the relation of man to God. Every branch of theology, therefore, is included--dogma,, morals,~ ascetics, scrip-ture, litu'rgy, Church history, canon law, etc. Even many philosophi-cal works would fall into this category insofar as they deal either with God as an absolute entity or with rational creatures in their relationship to God, or treat of those truths and principles which constitute the rational foundations of religion. By "formal" treatment (the Code uses the term ex professo) is meant something substantially more than religious obiter dicta. Either the entire work, or a notable section of it, must .designedly express religious beliefs substantiated by logical evidence, real or alleged. The author must, in other words, be intent upon discussing a religious topic at sufficient length to establish the particular pro-position or thesis which he has in mind. Confronted with such a publication, a Catholic is forbidden to read it unless he is certain that it contains nothing of any import-ance contrary to Catholic faith. That assurance should ordinarily be sought from someone who is competent to judge such matters and who is familiar with the content of the work in question. If it should, for instance, be recommended in established Catholic papers or periodicals, one may safely assume that the permissive clause of the canon has been verified. To cite but one possible example of this type of literature, C. S. Lewis, an Anglican, has written both The Screwtape ,Letters and Beyond Personality. Both unquestionably deal formally with matters religious, and hence qualify immediately as suspect under this pro-vision of the law. (3ust a little reflection will suffice to make one realize how comprehensive this phase of the law is.) Since Catholic scholars seem to have found nothing substantially erroneous in the former, it may legitimately be read. But several theologians have pointed 6ut dangerous theological errors in Beyond Personalit~ , and hence this book may not be read ,without permission from proper authority. C. WRITINGS CONTRARY TO MORALS It should be noted at the very beginning that immorality is a term. which is not properly restricted to violations of the Sixth 36 Januar~l, 1956 FORBIDDEN READING Commandment. Impurity is but one species of immorality, a word which is intended to include also whatever else is contrary to the law of God. Therefore, when canon 1399 proscribes writings which of set purpose attack good morals, it is stating a universal prohibition against publications which would tend to weaken us in any virtue or to attract us to any vice. Later on in the same canon explicit mention is made of several species of immoral themes. But since that comparatively brief catalogue does not pretend to be ex-haustive, it is the universal principle which constitutes the ultimate norm in every case. As was true in matters of faith, so too on this question of moral-ity the prohibition is intended to affect publications which make a calculated and determined effort to discredit virtue or to justify or commend what is objectively evil. Whethe~ directly by means of formal argumentation, or indirectly by recourse to derisive tactics, this impugning of virtue or commendation of vice which is pro-scribed must be something substantially more than passing reference. To be included under this automatic prohibition, it must Constitute at least a notable part of the author's intention and literary~'effort. One such book which would seem certainly to fulfill those requirements would be Joseph F. Fletcher's Morals and Medicine (Princeton University Press, 1954), devoted almost entirely to a defense of contraception, artificial insemination, sterilization, and° euthanasia, and to an attempted refutation of Church teaching in that regard. Much of the literature of the Planned Parenthood As-sociation would likewise fall under this ban, since its avowed pur-pose is to counsel birth control as a means of limiting the size of families. Judging merely from pre-publication announcements, ad-vertisements, and reviews, The Stor~/ of Margaret Sanger by Law-rence Lader (New York: Doubleday, 1955) is likely to qualify as forbidden reading under this beading since apparently it is laudatory of the morality which she advocates. Among the immoralities which are more commonly defended or recommended in writing, and which the Code therefore sees fit to mention specifically by name, are (a) (~arious forms of super-stition such as fortunetelling, divination, black magic, spiritism, and the like; (b) dueling, suicide, and divorce; (c) Freemasonry and similar societies, if they are represented as beneficial organizations harmless to Church and state; and finally (d) obscenity, which may be defined as the deliberate presentation of sexually-exciting matter in a manner calculated to be attractive and to stimulate the sexual 37 JOHN,~J., LYNCH Review for, Religiou, s passions. It should be noted that. in every one of the ab6ve cases, and especially in the last, it is not the subject matter which merits condemnation, but the manner in which the subject is treated. '!t is the impugning of virtue and the approval of vice which consti-tute, the threat to individual, good morals. D. PUBLICATIONS LACKING ECCLESIASTICAL .APPROVAL a) Absolutd Prohibitions Canon i385 6f the Code enumerates various classes of litera-ture which Catholic authors-~even laymen--are obliged to submit for diocesan cen.s.orship and approval prior to publication. The list is quite comprehensive, but may be summed up briefly in the con-cluding words of the canon itself as including "all writings which contain anything having a notable bearing on religion or morals." Should it happen that an author fail to comply with this law and publish without approbation a type of work specified therein, it does not.necessarily follow in every case that the publication is forbidden reading for .Catholics. But there are some such works whose very lack of approval does alone suffice to forbid their being read. One such category has already been mentioned, above under "Script~ural Works" (A, 2). The remain~der comprise books and PamPhlets u;bich relate neu; apparitions, revelations, visions, prophe-cies, or miracles, or u~hich introduce novel devotions. The Church by no means denies the possibility of the miraculous even in our own day, nor is her attitude towards them one of skep-ticism~ But she knows from experience the wisdom of extreme cau-tion in these matters because of the dangers to genuine faith involved. in the excess which is credulity. Many, too,.are easily led astray by the novel and the bizarre in the matter o.f devotions. Hence the Church rightfully reserves to herself the prerogative of examining for theological flaw any innovations in this regard and is unwilling that the faithful be exposed to ~heir influence until her own scrutiny has proven them sound. The lack of an Imprimatur on books and pamphlets of this kind is an indication that they are forbidden reading. Regardless of their actual conformity or disconformity with historical and theological fact, they inay not be read unless officially approved. b) Conditioned Prohibitions This final category includes three' classes of publications which likewise ,call for ecclesiastical approval, but which, if published in 38 danuaG/, 1956 FORBIDDEN READING neglect of that requirement, are proscribed only in the e, vent that their content is at variance with Church teaching on the subject. Strictly speaking, much of this type of forbidden literature is al-r~ eady included implicitly under the prohibition of works which are dangerous to faith. But because the Code sees fit to specify, s6 too shall we. 1) . Editions of approved liturgical books in which ang alter-ations have been made. in such a wag that theft no longer agree with the authentic editions approved b~t the Hol~l See. Our liturgical books include the Roman Missal and. Breviary, with both of which the Roman Martyrology and the Roman Calendar or Ordo are closely relatedi the Roman Ritual and the Memoriale Rituum which contain the prayers and ceremonies used in the administration of the Sacra-ments and in other liturgical functions; the Roman Pontifical and the Ceremonial of Bishops, both concerned with episcopal functions only; and the Roman Ceremonial which contains exclusively pap_~l ceremonies. All new editions,of these books must conform exactly tO the authentic texts published by the Holy See, else they are pro~ hibited. 2) Works which spread a knowledge of indulgences which are spurious or which have been condemned or revoked bg the Holg See. An indulgence is termed spurious if it was never validly granted; condemned, if because of abuses it was proscribed by the Holy See; revoked, if withdrawn or abrogated for some reason after having been once granted. The best way to ascertain the authenticity of indulgences is by reference to the Encbiridion Indulgentiarum: Preces et Pia Opera, which is the official collection of .indulgenced prayers and good works. 3) Pictures, printed in ang manner whaisoever, of our Lord," the Blessed Mother~ the angels, the saints and other servants of God, . if tbeq depart From the s#irit and decrees of the Church. The reason for this precaution was expressed long ago by the Council of Trent when that synod pointed out that many of the faithful acquire and retain knowledge of the faith largely through artistic' representa-tions of its mysteries. Therefore the Council warned explicitly against all images which would be suggestive of false doctrine and occasion theological" error. Thus, for example, we are expres,sly forbidden by the Holy Office to represent our Lady in priestly vest-ments, or the Holy Spirit in human form, either with the Father and Son or separately. This preseht legislation concerns only pictures Which are ira- 39 JOHN J. LYNCH Review for Religious pressed upon paper or other material suitable for publication and does not explicitly refer to medals, statues, paintings, and the like. "Since the Code~ in this section is-cohcerned with;printed publicatio.ns, it.does not legislate here with regard to other sacred images. But by its omission it does not mean to deny that those other representa-tions of religious mysteries can also be at variance with the spirit and letter of Catholic doctrine. A previous canon (1279) covers that more generic question quite thoroughly. Perhaps this outline of Code legislation could best be concluded with a practical suggestion. A good rule to follow when in doubt about a publication of manifestly religious nature is to look for an Imprimatur or some other indication of episcopal approbation. If it is'lacking, and, if one is without permission to read forbidden matter, a prudent conscience will advise inquiry before proceeding further. II. THE INDI~X OF FORBIDDI~N BOOKS It may now be apparent how all-inclusive is canon 1399 in its specification of dangerous reading, and why therefore the Index of Forbidden Books is really of secondary importance as a guiding norm. The Index in substance is merely an alphabetical catalogue-- according to authors where possible, otherwise according to titles-- of those works which Rome has seen fit to proscribe by name. As a rule titles explicitly contained in the Indix are already implicitly condemned by virtue of Code legislation; but only a small fraction of those works to which canon 1399 would apply will be accorded express mention in the Index. It would be manifestly impossible .for the Holy See to know of the existence, to say not.hing of the detailed content, of every potentially dangerous work which is published--and equally impossible to catalogue them in manage-able form even if they could be known. Hence, the Index is reserved for those works which are of special importance, either because of their subject matter or because of circumstances of time, current trends, or ingenious approximation of error to truth. But the very great majority of writings which are correctly classified as forbidden owe their condemnation to the generic provisions of canon law alone. Placing a book on the Index is now usually a matter of underlining an already established fact. Since 1897, when under Leo XIII our modern version was first cdmpiled, the Index has gone through a number of editions, the latest in 1948. Interim condemnations are published periodically in 40 January/, 1956 FORBIDDEN READING Acta Apbstolicae Sedis, and these addenda are eventually incorpor-ated into the next subsequent Index whe.never a new edition seems feasible. Occasionally certain titles are deleted when, for example, a book for one reason or another is judged no longer to represent a serious 'universal danger. It would appear to be the present policy of the Church to restrict to a minimum the number of books explicitly condemned and to depend more and more on the general principles of canon law to guide the faithful in their recognition of forbidden matter. The 1948 Index contains 4126 entries, of which only 255 represent publications of this twentieth century. For the benefit of those who may have occasion t~ consult the Index itself, a brief explanation of some of its terminology and sym-bols may be helpful. Solemn Condemnations. Usually it is the Congregation of the Holy Office which now issues the condemnation of specific publica-tions. In exceptional cases, however, the pope himself may choose to exercise his supreme authority and proscribe a work in even more solemn manner. These papal pronouncements are rare (only 144 books in the current Index are so condemned) and are reserved for writings which are considered to be especially pernicious. In the Index books proscribed by solemn papal decree are designated by the cross or dagger (~'). The practical significance of that symbol is to remind us of the severe penalty of excommunication imposed by the Church on those who would knowingly read or retain such literature without permission. Conditioned Condemnations. The asterisk (*) which precedes other titles in the Index indicates that the work is condemned in its present form until it be corrected ("donec corrigatur"). The im-plication, therefore, is that its errors are not beyond correction and that a revised edition, if submitted to proper ecclesiastical authority, may yet merit approval. The work in its original condemned form, however, remains forbidden reading. "Opera Omnia." Since 1940 the preface of the Index contains this authentic explanation of the phrase opera omnia whereby the complete works ~)f some authors are now prohibited: "According to practice' now in force, when the complete works of a certain writer are condemned by the term topera omnia," each and every work of that author is to be understood as proscribed without exception." If an author has shown himself to be invariably at odds with faith or morals, this sweeping condemnation of all his works is employed is the surest means of protecting the unwary. 41 JOHN J. LYNC~ Review [or Religious "'Omnes Fabulae Amatoriae." This phrase is appended to the names of eleven, of the novelists listed in the Index (Stendhal, George .Sand, 'Balzac, Eugene Sue, Alexandre Dumas, St. and Jr:, Champ-fleury, Faydeau, Henry Murger, Frederic Souli~, and Gabriele O'An-nunzio). In literal English translation the expression dmerges as "all love stories," a concept which is perhaps more accurately ex-pressed by the circumlocution, "all novels which emphasize impure love.'.' In the absence of any authentic interpretation, commentators generally have attached that meaning to the term as employed in the Index. For practical purposes, the expression is intended to ban literally all the novels of the author named but allows for.the pos-sible exception of one or several which may be shown certainly not to offend against canon 1399 and which ha'~e not been forbidden by particular decree. It is, therefore, a somewhat less rigorous con-demnation tba~a is the term .opera omnia which prohibits all an author's works without qualification. Needless to say, however, it ,creates a very strong presumption against any novel which that author may have written and commands extreme caution on the part of any would-be reader. Actually the great majority of titles contained in the Index would be of very little interest to the average modern reader nor does their proscription in any notable way restrict the literary preferences of most. Usually it is only the professional scholars in a specialized field who would have either need or desire to consult them. Another popular misconception of the Church's prohibition of books is that it concerns itself chiefly, if not exclusively, with the risqu~ and the salacious. That impression, too, bespeaks almost total unfamiliarity with both Code .legislation and the Index. As a preferred list of potential best sellers, our ecclesiastical blacklist would be a colossal hoax. III. PERMISSION q~O READ CONDEMNED LITERATURE As has already been mentioned, ecclesiastical legislation against the reading of certain literature is not so absolute as to deny Catho-lics without exception all access to publications condemned by posi-tive law. The Church's prohibition in this regard is basically a pre-cautionary measure intended to restrict such reading to thdse only who in bet judgment can safely survive exposure without con-tamination. Hence she reserves to" herself, in the person' of qualified delegates, the exclusive right to judge each individual case. But she expressly provides for those circumstafices in which neces~sity or genuine utility requires the reading of condemned matter by those 42 ,lanuary, 1956 o FORBIDDEN READING whose ~olidity of faith and morals she recognizes as promising them immunity from harm.' Ordinary Permission ' .Except in the case of exempt clerical institutes, whose members may refer this matter to thei'r major superior, it is one's local ordinary alone who may grant religious, either directly or through a delegate, permission to read literature which" is otherwise forbidden. (It need scarcely be said that the Holy See could likewise grant the same per-mission.) But unless he has acquired special powers beyond tboze which the Code concedes him directly, the ordinary may give that permission only to specified individuals and for specified titles. He would not, for example, allow "all the Sister graduate students to read whatever is prescribed for their course in the history of litera-ture." Those who request permissions under this law will ordinarily find that chancery requires the names of those who want the per-mission, the titles of those works which they wish to read, and the reason which makes that reading necessary. It is usually advisable to channel requests of this nature through someone whose position and personal knowledge make it possible to testify to the reasonable-ness of the petition--a parish priest, chaplain, one's superior, or the dean or head of a department if one is enrblled in a Catholic coll'ege or university. The practice of individual chanceries may vary in this regard and Ioc~aI custom should be as&trained and observed. (A specimen petition may be found on p. 70 of What Is the Index? included ~among the suggested, readings at the end of this article.) Permission to read forbidden matter is granted with the express 'understanding that adequate precautions will be taken to prevent the literature in question from falling into the hands of others un-authorized to read it. And no permission, however broad, can ever release us from the obligation under natural law to protect our-selves from danger. None of us is confirmed in grace simply by complying with the requisites of positive law. It may happen that one's own theological background is not always sufficient to solve every difficulty alleged against our faith and to dispel all doubts which may be lodged against our religious convictions. One's first and urgent obligation in that case is to seek explanation and en-lightenment from some other who is qualified to expo.se the error behind the doubt. And it may sometimes happen that decision to abandon that type of reading will prove a prudent additional course of actioni I 43 JOHN J. LYNCH Reuieto for Reli~t'ous Extraordinary Permission There are some exceptional situations which cannot be pro-vided for adequately or ~xpeditiously with the restricted power granted by the Code to ordinaries in favor of their respective sub-jects. Professional scholars engaged in prolonged research, librarians responsible for the disposition of numerous books, editors and staff members of religious papers and periodicals, college and university professors.-~tbese and others in similar walks of life must often, in order to do their work effectively, have somewhat greater latitude in the matter of probibityd reading. To cope with circumstances such as these, bishops in this country by virtue of their quinquennial faculties, and at least some major religious superiors by virtue of special privilege, may at their prudent discretion allow certain indi-viduals greater liberty. Perhaps the briefest possible way of ex-plaining the limits of this power is to quote from the formula used by the Holy Office itself: "The faculty of granting for not more than three years permission to read or keep, with precautions, how-ever, lest they fall into the hands of other persons, forbidden books and papers, excepting works which professedly advocate heresy or schism, or which attempt to undermine the very foundations of religion, or which are professedly obscene; the permission to be granted to their own subjects individually, and only with dis:rim-ination and for-just and reasonable cause; that is, to such persons only as really need to read the said books and papers, either in order to refute them, or in the exercise of their own lawful func-tions, or in the pursuit, of a lawful course of studies." An official note appended to the above faculty further advises that it "is granted to Bishops to be exercised by them personally; hence not ¯ to be delegated to anyone; and moreover with a grave responsibility in conscience upon the Bishops as regards the real concurrence of all the above-named conditions." It should be clear without further comment that this type of general permission cannot be granted at random or automatically upon request. Admittedly there are times when ecclesiastical restrictions on reading impose a considerable inconvenience, perhaps even handicap, upon Catholic scholars. Unfortunately, that sometimes is an un-avoidable incidental by-product of Church legislation in this regard. But we simply must, recognize and respect the fact that the direct intent of these laws, formulated in obedience to Christ's own man-date to His Church, is the protection of the faithful as a whole ;.n the essentials of faith and morals. If the individual good of acom- ,lanuarg, 1956 " FORBIDDEN. READING parative few must occasionally suffer, it does so out of deference tO the greater good. -~ IV. SUGGESTED READINGS 1. Joseph M. Pernicone, The Ecclesiastical Prohibition Books, Washington, D. C.:, Catholic University of America Press, 1932. Written as a doctorate thesis when the author, presently auxiliary bishop of New York, was in. graduate studies in cation law at Catholic University, this book provides an exhaustive and most competent analysis of those canons of the Code which pertain to forbidden literature. Technical rather than popular in presen-tation, it would nevertheless serve most effectively as an occasional reference book for those who may want more minute explanation of the finer points of the law. \ 2. T.L. Bouscaren, S.J., and A. C. Ellis, S.J., Canon Law: A Text and Commentary, Milwaukee: Bruce, 1951 (ed.2), pp. 778-91. Father Bouscaren is aconsultor to the Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith; Father Ellis is a consultor to the Congregation of Religious. Both were professors of canon law at the Gregorian University, Rome. Although their excellent com-mentary is intended primarily for students of ecclesiastical juris-prudence, )eligious in general would find in the pages devoted to forbidden literature much that would help to a fuller understanding of the intricacies of this law. 3. Redmond A. Burke, C.S.V., What Is the Index?, Mil-waukee: Bruce, 1952. Whereas most literature on the subject is directed to theologians or theological students, this presentation, as interesting as it is informative, is addressed "to intelligent laity, whether Catholic or non-Catholic." The author is at present di-rector of libraries at De Paul University in Chicago. Eminently readable, the book provides in addition to the standard treatment of the subject several convenient and instructive appendixes. Samples: better known authors of forbidden works grouped according to subject matter; a complete list of the books written by the eleven novelists condemned with the term omnes fabulae amatoriae; for-bidden titles from the English literature; applications of tfiis law to the readings recommended by the Great Books Program. Father Burke's book would be a highly useful addition to the library of any religious house. .4. Edwin F. Healy, S.J., Moral Guidance, Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1942; ch. XIII, pp. 276-85. Previously profes.- FOR YOUR INFORMATION Review [or Religious sot of moral theology at West Baden College, Father Healy now lectures on the same subject at the Gregorian University in Rome. His college texts in moral theology, of which this is but one, are familiar to many who.have taken or taught such a course in recent years. The chapter devoted to forbidden books is presented, of course, in textbook style and provides a conveni'ent outline of the law's main content together with the most practical of its applica-tions. The corresponding section in the companion volume, Teacher's Manual For Moral Guidance, gives further insight into the purpose of this legislation and provides telling answers to several objections commonly leveled against the ecclesiastical prohibition of books. 5. Malachi J. Donnelly, S.J., "Church Law and Non-Cath-olic Books" in American Ecclesiastical Review, 114 (1"946), pp. 403-9. Although this article is restricted to but one category of forbidden literature, viz., the religious writings of non-Catholics, its practical value is perhaps thereby enhanced. Religion has become a most popular topic even among non-Catholic authors, and there are numerous books of this kind on the market which win almost universal applause for their sincere and perhaps novel approach to spiritual problems. It may be an fiye-opening experience for some to see how Father Donnelly applies canon 1399 to one such book, Be~/ond Personality/ by C. S. Lewis, and demonstrates the caution we must exercise at times when selecting even our spiritual reading. For Your Int:ormation Concernincj Summer Sessions We are happy to be of service to ~eligious by publishing in our March :and May numbers announcements of summer-session courses that are of special interest or value to religious. We are willing to do this for any summer-session directors who] send us the proper information. But it seems to be asking too much "merely to send us a summer-session bulletin and to leave to us the work of select-ing the courses to be announced. Deans who ~vish us to publish an announcement should compose it themsel'ves. The announcement should contain only brief references to the spedat courses for re-ligious, and all the information should be in one paragraph. The material should be. typed double- or (preferably) triple-spaced. 46 January, 1956 FOR YOUR INFORMATION Moreover, it would be helpful if.~opitalization, punctuation, and other mechanics were in conformity with the rules given in our "Notes for Contributors," as published in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, XIV (March, ,July),- 104 ff., 194 ff. Our Addresses It will help ve.ry much if those who write to us will note the following addresses : 1. Business correspondence should be sefit to: The Coliege Press, 606 Harrison, Topeka, Kansas. 2. Books for review should be sent to: The Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana. 3. Questions on canon law and liturgy should be addressed to: The Reverend Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., Woodstock College, Wood-stock, Maryland. 4. Other questions and editorial correspondence should be ad-dressed to: The Editors, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, St. Mary's Col-lege, St. Marys, Kansas. New Holy Week Rubrics Of interest to many of our readers is the appearance in the "win-ter issue of Theology Digest (Vol. IV, No. 1) of a concise summary of the new Holy Week order to be observed in the celebration of the sacred ceremonies and the recitation of the Divine Office. Ad-dress: Theology Digest, 1015 Central, Kansas City 5, Missouri. $2.00 per year; foreign, $2.25. Breviary Changes A decree of the Sacred Congregation of Rites, dated March 23, 1955, made some radical changes in the rubrics for celebrating Mass and reciting the Divine Office. A pamphlet entitled Otffcial Changes in the Breviary, by T. Lincoln Bouscaren, S.J., gives the back-ground of the decree, an English translation of the parts that concern the recitation of the'Breviary, and a brief commentary on these parts. The material concernirig the new rubrics for Holy Week, which was contained in the decree of November 15, 1955, i;, not included in the pamphlet. The price of the pamphlet is ten cents. It is pub-lished by The Queen's Work, 3115 South Grand Boulevard, St. Louis 18, Missouri. (Material for this department should be sent to Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana.) THE HISTORY OF ISRAEL. Vol I and Vol. II, By Giuseppe Ri¢c~otti. "Translated by Clement della Penta, O.P., and Richard A. Murphy, O.P. Pp. 430 and 476. The Bruce Publishing Co., Milwaukee I. 1955. ~ $15.00 the set. For those Who have enjoyed Ricciotti's Life of Christ in Eng-lish, a similar treat awaits them in the new translation of his two-volume History of Israel. Detailing the dramatic story of God's chosen people from the call of Abraham to the final catastrophe at Jerusalem in 130 A.D., the author gives rich background and a vivid i~resentation of the trials and triumphs of Israel. The Do-. minican translator~ have captured Ricciotti's pleasant style, pre'- senting an engaging history which has already seen four Italian editions and four European translations. In his preface Father Murphy points out that the book "fills a lamentable gap in the field of Catholic,scriptural literature in Eng-lish." One plies library shelves in vain to find so adequate a Cath-olic treatment of Israelite history within a single work. With Ricciotti's training in oriental languages, his years lived in the Holy ¯ Land, and his wide acquaintance with non-Catholic literature, his history is more than "just another book." It does not seek merely to' answer non-Catholic objections, but to present a positive, clear exposition of the Catholic approach to complex Biblical questions. Ricciotti's appreciation of recent discoveries of historians and arche-ologists is evident in a lengthy chapter concern_ing late excavations and surveys, evidence from which he faithfully evaluates and as-similates into his work. The translators supplement this section of his book with findings of the past two years at Qumram and Murabba'at, and they have changed some dates to conform better with the new evidence. Ricciotti's explicit intent is to write history. He avoids long discussions of critical theories. Cautious, especially in the face of recent discoveries in Palestine, he presents his readers with facts and leaves to them the formation of personal' judgments. His one thrust at modern criticism is~to point out that "any critical history must take into account the basic outlines of history as they are sketched in the Bible." The Bible is a historical source par excellence. At-tempts to discredit it on arguments drawn from philology an;:l liter- 48 BOOK REVIEWS' ary criticism are based on false philosophic presfippositions.The fundamental supposition of "impossibility" of Israelite tradition' 'by Wellhausen and others is being shaken and weakened by the spade of the archaeologist. Recent discoveries tend to confirm the tradi- 'tional position, both as to events and their chronology. Where the Bible and other sources are mute, as, for instance~ during the period of Greek domination and after the Romafi seizure of Jerusalem in 70 A.D., Ricciotti reconstructs Jewish h~istory and attempts to fill in, the silent pages of Israel's tragic story. In his role of historian he maintains a steady progression. Any pause, such as to explain prophetism or the importance of an archaeological discovery, is only to enrich the reader's background for a deeper ap-preciation of the history at hand. Because references in the original are principally to German and French sources, the editor thought it "unnecessary to burden Eng-lish- speaking readers with a bibliography" in the English edition. Some may regret this lack, even though the footnotes in the text are more than sufficient, to indicate the author's wealth of source material. The scholar will find this History a helpful reference. It presents a readable and engrossing story for those wishing to learn more of Israelite history and serves as excellent background for an intelligent reading of the Bible.--ROBERT C. DRESSMAN, S.J. THE LIFE OF ST. DOMINIC SAVI'O. By Sf. John Bosco. Transla'red by: Paul Aronica, S.D~B. Pp. 112. Salesiana Publishers, Pafferson New Jersey. 1955. $2.75. In 1857, Dominic Savio, after spending two and a half years under the guidance of St. John Bosco at the Oratory of St. Francis of Sales in Turin, died at the age of fifteen. Two years later, Don Bosco wrote an account of the life of this youth whose sanctity he held in high esteem. Short and unpretentious, this biography was published largely with a view to the spiritual profit of youthful readers. Translated from the fifth Italian edition, The Life of St. Dom-inic Savio has been prepared for American boys,, their parents and teachers. Hence the translator has added to the original text some background on the ,biography itself, a biographical sketch df St. John Bosco, and two appendices. After the author's preface and after seventeen of the twenty-six chapters, all of them 'brief, the translato~ has inserted notes gathered' from the latest .Italian edition of ii}he, work. 49 BOOK REVIi~WS Review [or Religious In the opening chapters, Don Bosco sketches Dominic's life prior to his arrival at the Oratory late in" 1854. Abandoning chron-ological order, he then proceeds to treat of Dominic's stay at the Oratory in topical fashion. Thus he sets forth the boy's deter-mination to avoid sin, his constant efforts' to strive for sanctity, his spiritual practices, his attitude toward studies, his friendships and relations with his associates, his special graces. The final chapters resume chronological sequence in telling of Dominic's final sick-ness and death. In many ways this is an admirable little book. In its small compass we are given the picture of a young saint sharply and sym-pathetically drawn by another saint, a much older and more experi-enced man. The boy's high ideals, his cheerfulness, and general likeableness, so much in evidence throughout, constitute a most appealing element. The attractive biographical sketch of Don Bosco himself sets the stage, as it were, for Dominic's days at the Oratory and puts the reader in a better position to grasp the relation of Don Bosco to his subject matter. One, however, may be inclined to question the complete suitability of the book for today's American boy. For at times, the viewpoint of the author, both because of time and mentality, discernibly differs from that calculated to be easily and properly understood by the modern American.boy. The notes occasionally rectify this matter. On the other hand, the notes them-selves do introduce a comment on Dominic's m(~desty which the average American boy might find difficult to grasp (p. 55). Fur-thermore, there are several passages of St. John's text which seem to call for notes to clarify theological implications contained therein. For example, his reflections on the force of a good First Communion' on a person's life appear to be a somewhat sweeping generalization which might be difficult to substantiate and need, at least, to be set against a proper historical background (p. 8). Again, Dominic's remarks on merit require distinctions (p. 78). The language of the book runs along simply and smoothly for the most part. One, however, does encounter an occasional awk-~ wardly turned phrase as well as several lapses of grammar and Eng-lish idiom. In place of the illustrations taken from the fifth Italian edition, more modern drawings would perhaps be more effective in catching the eye of young people. While this book, then, has many good points to recommend it,- it is not without its drawbacks, especially for young readers. ~EDMUND F. MILLER, S.J. 50 ,lanuary, 1956 BOOK REVIEWS DAYS OF JOY. By William S÷ephenson, S.J. Pp. 176. The Newman Press, Westmins÷er,Maryland. 19SS. $2.S0. In his preface the author tells us that it is his purpose "to set forth as fully and plainly as possible the meaning of this [the Easter] message ." This is indeed no small task, and yet he succeeds admirably. A full understanding of the meaning of Easter and 'the cause of our joy in it demands a mature faith and an understanding en-riched and deepened by all that the Church can tell us about it. It is no small merit of this work that the author makes free use of the wealth that Holy Church has found for us in this mystery. A step-by- step account of the sacred history from Easter to Pentecost is ac-companied by explanations of dogmatic truths, prayers from the Mass and hymns from the breviary, quotations from devotional writers and instructions in prayer. Theresult is not a heavy treatise, but a book which is devotional and inspiring with its piety deeply rooted in dogmatic theology and the" liturgy. Each stage of events in the story of the Resurrection is treated in this way. First there is an account of the event, e.g., the meeting of our Lord and Mary Magdalen; then there is a series of reflections on the mystery in,which the author explains the truths it shows and their meaning for us. The reflections are concluded with a col-loquy in which some liturgical prayer, hymn from the breviary, or devotional poem is read prayerfully. Along with the text, some-times in the form of notes, are explanations of liturgical practices, the account of the beginning of a devotion or suggestions on methods of prayer drawn from the Exercises oF St. Ignatius. With justice the book is subtitled Thoughts for All Times, because the author's handling of his subject relates this central truth of our faith to other truths and to our daily needs. The com-bination of the gospel narrative and the light thrown on it by theology and the warmth of the liturgy is a happy one. Finally, the method of prayer woven into this pattern gives these sublime thoughts and truths a personal and particular meaning. Thus, the

Issue 64.3 of the Review for Religious, 2005. ; lglous Witnessing The Spirit QUARTERLY 64.3 2005: Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to cbarisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul VI said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University. by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ ~Veb site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ Pontifical College Josephinum 7625 North High Street ¯ Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2005 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ev'iew for religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Wetrmaster Adv#ory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Clare Boehmer ASC Steve Erspamer SM Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ QUARTERLY 64.3 2005 contents 228 prisms Prisms community chapters 230 Where Two or More Are Gathered Ted Dunn explores some of the unique challenges and opportunities pertaining to religious chapters of election, especially highlighting the differences between politics and discernment. 242 Chapter Delegates, Once and Future Sister Marie de Lourdes Mates IHM recapitulates and refurbishes some earnest practical suggestions about what to look for in chapter delegates. 252 Community Chapters: Seven Personal Beliefs Melannie Svoboda SND presents an outline of concrete expectations for a religious congregation's chapter meeting. Reflection and Discussion 226 259 religious life Invisible--Even to Ourselves? Marie Brinkman SCL emphasizes that visible unity-- community bonds--must become the sign of Christ and his church that religious life is meant to be. Review for Religious 269 Living in Community: Continuing the Conversation Doris Gottemoeller RSM returns to the discussion about the place of community living as an uncommon and striking witness to the power of the gospel and the dynamism of a congregation's charism. Psalm Prayer Reflection and Discussion 281 witnessing With Love from Calcutta and Lisieux: Letters of Mother Teresa and St. Thdr~se Mary C. Carroll SSSF gives witness to the wisdom of a loving friendship expressed in the letter exchanges of Mother Teresa of Calcutta and Father Michael van der Peet SCJ and Thdr~se of Lisieux and Maurice Barth~l~my-Belli~re. 296 Alfred Delp SJ and the Heart of Jesus Mary Frances Coady focuses on Alfred Delp's devotion to the Heart of Jesus that sustained him in his Nazi imprisonment and eventual death by hanging. 301 the spirit Led by the Spirit: St. Basil the Great Andrew Ryder SCJ enters us into St. Basil the Great's contributions to our theological understanding and appre-ciation of the Holy Spirit as the third person of the Trinity. departments 316 Scripture Scope: Encountering the Parables of Jesus 321 Canonical Counsel: Additional Comments on Interpretation 326 Book Reviews 64.3 200~ prisms The prevalent theological cat-egory in describing the church is the word com-munion. It is significant that this choice of word confronts the most serious need of our times. Communion emphasizes what binds us together. Theologians today want to say that this word most captures what the church is all about. Pope Benedict xvI, in his initial addresses as the leader of the Roman Catholic commu-nity, has called for a renewed effort among all peoples of religion to look to some kind of bonding or communion. The essential witness that any Christian gives is that of bonding. There is no working for justice unless there is a bonding with the "other." There is no exercise of charity unless there is a communion with the ones being served. As Jesus pointed out consistently, each one of us as a follower comes to serve and not be served--like him. We do not serve justice or charity out of a superior stance; we can only be on the same level, as with our sisters and broth-ers, and it is there that we work. Perhaps we may look like good secular social workers. As Christians, we want more; we are looking towards communion. If marriage in the Christian community has no greater rate of fidelity than secular marriage, then as Christians we are failing. If men and women in religious life commitment do not give Review for Religious witness to a life in common, then they fail in the most essential witness of their religious life. It is not just in entering upon a vocation and it is not just in generous service that we show ourselves to be Christian. The "proof of the pudding" is whether we truly are people who "bond," who live in communion because commu-nion is entering into God's life, the life of the Trinity. How in our times have we lost some ways of "bond-ing," of being in communion? It seems we no longer recognize that there are three progressive steps which Jesus has identified for us in the Gospels. First, there is detachment ("leave your father and your mother," "go, sell") or what we might today call availability. We come with so many non-negotiables; we come with our needs and our demands. Many of us Christians are unavailable to God and to one another. And. so the first step in bond-ing or communion is being available. The second step is generosity or being in service ("come, follow"). We often pride ourselves on how much we do for others, extending ourselves generously with our time and tal-ent. No doubt we are people of service, but is it all on our terms? Are we covetously in control of all our works of justice and charity? Both the first and the second steps can be half steps in living as a Christian. Are half steps any steps at all? The third is, simply, sharing or, rightly understood, surrendering ("take up your cross"). Commun. ion hap-pens when we are available, when we give. generously in service, and when we share our lives unstintingly--as God does with us. Communion or bonding is our 21 st-_century quest as a Catholic community. It is a quest that Jesus tells us is within our ~raced reach. David L. Fleming SJ 64.3 2005 TED DLrNN Where Two or More Are Gathered community chapters It has been said, "Where two or more are gathered, there is politics." Though many religious communities have embraced communal discernment as their preferred means for electing leadership, they are still not immune to the pulls and trappings of politics. Seeking to hear the voice of the Spirit through communal discernment can, at its best, eclipse and far surpass the influence of politics. Communal discernment, however, no matter how well practiced, will neither eradicate politics nor guarantee that there will be no regressive pulls in chapters of election. But awareness of the differences between discernment and politics can help chapter participan~ts resist the forces of politics and secure the grace-filled opportunities of discernment. Ted Dunn, a clinical psychglogist, wrote for us in our 63.3 issue (July 2004). His address remains Comprehensive Consulting Services; 6209 Mid "Rivers Mall Drive, Suite 294; St. Charles, Missouri 63304. Review for Religgous When discernment and politics collide, how can chapter participants make sense of all the forces in play? During a chapter of election, what are some of the regressive urges that may work against a community's efforts at discernment? What are some of the differences between "political" conversations and "discerning" ones? These are questions I address in this article. We are not likely to rid ourselves of politics completely, but I am confident that, if communities commit themselves to communal discernment, they can grow in their capacity to use it well. From my years of facilitating communal discernment, I am confident that goodwill and good ways of channeling it can enhance discernment and diminish politicking. This, in turn, can help communities to seek God's will more fully and thereby discern their choice of leadership more wisely. In line with this I plan to point out some differences between discernment and politics from three angles, namely, numbers, powers of persuasion, and so-called winners and losers. But first I want to set the context by elaborating on regression (returning to old patterns). Regression often emerges during chapters of election and, if left unrecognized and unchecked, can blight a community's desire to put discernment ahead of politics. Regression in the Face of Discernment For a chapter to be a success, its participants should check their human propensities to constrict the movement of the Spirit, and instead work Collectively toward welcoming the Spirit present among them to liberate and enlighten. They should seek ways of enhancing their own spiritual freedom and that of the group, avoiding anything that might hinder it. They need to be alert to personal and group patterns of regression and strive to eliminate them. I would guess that every 64.3 200Y Dunn ¯ Where Two or More Are Gathered community has had, at one time or another, a dark moment in which its chapter of election fell far short of its best intentions and let, for example, politics take precedence over discernment. I would also guess that-- although such a moment tends to recede from the community's consciousness between chapters--it often returns at the beginning of the next chapter. It is as if the walls of the chapter hall hold the memories and, when the chapter is convoked, so too are the memories. Despite such experiences, or perhaps because of them, individuals and communities I am acquainted with have made courageous efforts to move beyond the pain of past elections and write new memories upon the walls. I have witnessed participants building new bridges, mending frayed relationships, offering and accepting olive branches, and all in all seeking greater unity. Communities yearn to grow in discernment and put forth their best green-gold efforts when given the opportunity. Yet I also know that, as in all growing, communities are at risk. They repeat old patterns of tension and vulnerability. As a psychologist I recognize that regression is a natural and normal response in the face of threat. It is a coping mechanism that people use when new ways of behaving seem shaky or are perceived as failing. Think of the first time you tried a new prayer form and it was not working for you. You likely sought refuge, at least temporarily, in the tried and true. Recall a return to your family of origin. Despite your growth in other relationships, in a difficult interaction with a relative you may have returned to a once-outlived means of coping (withdrawing, clashing, and so forth). Recall your community's initial efforts at the more fluid processes of communal discernment and the simulta_neous urges to return to the familiar confines of Robert's Rules and carefully orchestrated conversations. Review for Religious When it comes to elections, politics is what is most familiar to us. It is part of our culture and is no less a part of religious life. Discernment is newly learned and also countercultural behavior. And so, when tensions arise during a chapter, you have any number of urges to return to old patterns, the patterns of politics. You may have urges to-rally around your friends, to defend perceived "victims," to speak for those not speaking. You may want to tune out, or argue with what you do not want to hear, or go silent in the hope of being rescued by others more vocal. You may want to have the meeting outside the meeting (in the halls and over coffee) instead of in the assembly room. You may want to campaign for some, and against some others, and so on. The good news is that such urges do not have to be your destiny. Your next chapter presents you with the challenge and opportunity to write new memories on the walls of your assembly room. It is a chance to further reconcile and redeem the pain of past elections. It is a chance to weave new patterns of interacting into the collective experience of chapters of election and place discernment ahead of politics. But the undertow toward politics will, if left unrecognized, take away your freedom and wreak havoc upon your desire to grow beyond your past. If it is recognized, however, communities have the opportunity to catch themselves and choose instead the grace and gift of communal discernment. Politics as an Impediment to Discernment We humans have an insatiable appetite for politics. Enquiring minds want to know: Who's on first? Who's it Discernment is' newly learned and also coun~ercultural behavior. 64.3 2005 Dunn ¯ 14~bere Two or'More ~lre Gathered going to be? Who's ahead in the polls? In an election year, politics and politicians dominate the evening news, CNN, and the front page. Political talk is with us at meals and up and down hallways and sidewalks. Religious communities, it seems to me, are no less involved with politics. In fact, if politics means involvement, interest, and concern for how you govern yourselves, religious are just as political as any other segment of society. They desire to understand what is going on in the world, in the church, and in the community and to participate in shaping the future. Politics, then, has its good points, but it is important to understand its pitfalls and get beyond them in order to do the deeper work of communal discernment. One risk is that politics and discernment have definite similarities. Both lead to an informed vote in an election. Both seek understanding and involvement. In both methods, information serves to influence people and to moderate that influence. And both methods are about power. There are other commonalities as well, but there are definite distinctions to be drawn too. Where does politics end and discernment begin? Numbers. First let us talk numbers. Numbers sometimes talk long before people get acquainted with the candidates and their character. In the politics of our day, there are endless permutations of the numbers. Numbers are the heartbeat of American pre-election activity. Pollsters keep taking political pulses and making election prognostications. There are more permutations of polls than there are stats on the Super Bowl. Results are statistically projected hours before the polls close. Such results are not official, of course, but they cause people to think and say, "Why vote? It's a done deal." In discernment, however, the significance of numbers is little or none. In many discernment processes a Review for Religious member needs only one endorsement to enter into it. And entering is far more important than trying to forecast where you will end up. Entering the mystery, walking the Emmaus journey, searching out your future together by collectively seeking God's intentions--these things are not concerned with numbers. Numbers will not answer a community's quest for healing, yearnings for a stronger partnership, desires for deeper understanding, or efforts to resolve differences. Counting numbers, wondering how many votes you or someone else might get, will not help you hear the voice of the Spirit. You cannot take a poll to find out what God wants. Numbers at the moment of election have a different, though still secondary, importance. Ideally, numbers are the result of, not the means for, discernment. Ideally, they are the outcome that confirms the will of the Spirit mediated through the chapter. I do not know about your community, but in some communities, once the balloting begins, discernment goes out the window and people start listening to the numbers. They write the numbers down, tally the votes, and track who is getting what. Like a runaway train people start following the numbers instead of the Spirit. The numbers take over. It is important to work as a chapter body to prevent a numbers-oriented election. Facilitators need to intersperse .processes into the election itself to help the community discern its way through to the end. Ideally, the election process should be the culmination of the discernment process, not detached or separate from discernment. In my experience, when an election keeps the integrity of the discerning body and its discernment process intact, then numbers, if used at all, are of negligible importance. Pozver~ of Persuasion. In politics, power is .sought from a variety of sources through a variety of means. Power is 64.3 2005 Dunn ¯ Where Two or More ~qre Gathered found first in the money used for campaigning. Money pays for ads and buys favors from special-interest groups that in turn lobby for their candidates. In one form or another, money runs the machinery that shapes the information that people receive, which is of course the ultimate means of influence. In American politics "information is power," and, if you want to know who has it, "follow the money." While voters want information about what their candidates hope to accomplish, and while politicians vow that they will "stick to the issues," too often there is regression toward name-calling and mudslinging. Politicians know that there is great power in casting doubt upon their opponents. So-called "negative campaigning" persists despite the public outcry against it, in large part because research shows that when used skillfully it works. Political elections, as we have witnessed, are not about how you play the game; they are about winning, no matter the cost. Politics centers on persuasion as a means to attain desired outcomes. Spin doctors seek to persuade by parsing the truth. Political strategists provide different information for different target groups, strategically timing the leakage of news, all in an effort to sway specific voters. Party politics uses these powers of persuasion to garner support for their respective camps, which in turn support their candidates. Selective information to induce fear or call for party loyalty is among the powers of persuasion in American politics. In discernment, though, how you play the game and what kind of power you use make all the difference. The power of discernment rests on faith. It rests on your ability to pray, reflect, and journey together in such a way as to discover your collective truth, to experience the movement of the Spirit among yourselves. Paradoxically, Review for Religious the power of discernment is inversely related to persuading others or controlling the outcome. In fact, detachment from the outcome, rather than attempting to engineer the outcome, is a hallmark of discernment. Discernment requires conversations about the direction your community is moving, the issues you face, and the ideal team to facilitate the desired movement. It is about who can complement whom, not who is better than whom. It is not about camps competing around special interests. It is about cooperating in the interests of the whole. Instead of trying to convince others of your truth, communal discernment invites you to discover the community's collective truth. Discernment is not about campaigning, convincing, and cajoling, but about listening, sharing, and deepening the common understanding. Chapter participants are not chosen to elect favorite, candidates to represent personal interests, but rather to come up with a team of persons who together can best serve the interests of the entire community. I believe that the power of communal discernment is in direct proportion to a group's determination to be enlightened by one another and by the commitment of all to the common good. This power is present in direct proportion to your freedom, individually and collectively, to respond to the Spirit echoed in the voices of all the chapter members. It is present to the degree you are interiorly free from whatever might bind you, be it your loyalties to others, passions around your own agendas, fears of being hurt or hurting others, or haunting and hurting memories. It is present when people are free of 64.3 2005 Dunn ¯ Where Two or More Are Gathered prejudice and free of gossipy reputations, of labels that persist year after year. Being flee, however, does not mean an absence of anxiety and fears. Rather, it means a willingness to name, claim, and, if possible, work through your fears rather than succumb to them. It means acknowledging your desired outcomes while simultaneously relinquishing any efforts to control them. It means a willingness to enter the unpredictability and mystery of your personal and communal faith journey. If you are free enough to embrace a truth larger than your own--free of efforts to hide from uncomfortable truths or blind yourselves to a common good that may ask more of you than you want to give--then your power to discern is enhanced. The power of such spiritual freedom is yours to claim. No one can claim it for you or work towards it for you. Freedom is inherently yours to begin with. If you do this work collectively, if you maintain deep roots of knowledge, passion, and conviction while holding all things lightly, then you will have access to the Spirit moving through you and among you, The movement of the Spirit and your own search for enlightenment and understanding are at the heart of discernment. Discernment is the polar opposite of politics. It is a continuous focus on winning, not on having won and resting on our laurels. Winners and Losers. Let us talk about so-called winners and losers. Who is better? The St. Louis Rams or the Dallas Cowboys, the French or the Irish, African Americans or Caucasians or Hispanics, rich or poor, tall or short, women at the well or men at the "Y," a lilac ora rose? We humans are prone to thinking in categories and classes. We have carved up God's creation into categories. We have boxed and labeled the people and things of our world as good or bad, right or wrong, winners or losers. Review for Religious ¯ We have prejudices, biases, preconceived notions, assumptions, and conscious and subconscious judgments that put price tags on so many things that God looked at and said are "good." God sees us all as both blessed and broken, but we seem to view ourselves as good, better, best, less than good or less than evil, depending upon our looks, ethnicity, friends, affiliations, or supposed motives. Children not chosen for this or that often feel "excluded" and "hurt." Out of such feelings we form judgments and begin to think in terms of winners and losers. From facilitating many community discernments over the years, I consider all participants winners. All community members who are endorsed, who come to discernment gatherings, who respond to the call to serve in elected leadership are winners. They take risks that have brought hurts in the past and perhaps even made them say to themselves "Never again." COmmunal disdernment i~,~[fOiJ[: ~de" }in g women ~ ~or men ~who,brzn~ g together a complement of gifls tha~;~in its ~isimportant for ~he :enti@ ~com~u~ity. Those who participate in discernment are asked to reach deep inside themselves to find hope again, when staying disengaged would be easier. Individually and together they are winners as they extend themselves beyond their comfort zone in response to calls from their community. Conventional politics would suggest that those who are elected have the "right stuff" and those who are not elected do not. Communal discernment, however, is about electing women or men who bring together a complement of gifts that, in its unity, is important for the entire community. 64.3 200Y Dunn ¯ Where Two or More Are Gathered Not long ago my wife and I attended our daughters' graduations, Kelly from high school and Colleen from middle school. For the occasion we went out to buy them some flowers. The florist asked, "What are their colors?" I was taken aback, having expected to pick out bouquets from the showcase and be done with it. She escorted us to a refrigerator, showed us a vast array of flowers, and urged us to have a whiff and take a good look at them. Before long we had flowers and greenery and paper strewn over the counter. Other customers watched us try various combinations to see what would best fit each girl's particular likes and sense of beauty. There were lilacs, roses, and other flowers whose names escape me. In combination, some were not the right color and some not the right fragrance. Some got lost alongside others. All were beautiful in their own right, but some fit better than others in the bouquets. At last we had two unique bouquets, each beautiful, each saying what we wanted to say. In your next communal discernment, remember that every individual has a beauty all her own. Blessed and broken, gifted and flawed, they are on the same journey as you. Some combinations of their beauty will express what you want to say, what you hope leadership to be. Others will not. This makes them no less wonderful, no less worthy. Their beauty will find other bouquets. In your next discernment, honor all these women (or men) with your prayers. Support all of them with your encouragement. Affirm them for their courage in walking deep into discernment with you, opening themselves up in personal ways to you, to each other, and to God. Walk gently with them. Your next chapter of election will be a continuation of the work you have begun at earlier chapters. It presents you with an opportunity to grow in communal discernment and Review for Religious be more faithful on your personal and communal faith journey. Anticipate, identify, and resist any regressive tendencies. Keep the election a matter of the Spirit, not a matter of mere numbers. Do not let it be about winners and losers. You are all winners, for you are all on the same team. Be gentle with yourselves and with your mistakes, for mistakes will surely be made. In your efforts to write new memories on the walls, may the Holy Spirit be your guide, and, where two or more of you are gathered, may you find Jesus in your midst. The Transient Seed To go wherever you would lead Will mean ourselves to die, Forsaking self and every need For you, risen, on high. Buried with you, the transient seed Awaits your Spirit-cry Creating us anew, rubied By blood from Calvary. Walt Bado SJ 64.3 2005 MARIE DE LOURDES MATES Chapter Delegates, Once and Future ~onh~hne m qyu arleigtiieosn aanl dsu rpeesrpioonr saisbkileidti ems eo tfo c shpaepatekr delegates, my response was typically prophetic. I screamed into the phone: "What? Me? Why me? Don't you think I'm a bit too old for this? You're twenty-five years too late! I know a lot of people who could do a better job." She listened politely and then replied, "Well, will you at least think about it?" So I did, and for some reason I just could not say no. Father Robert Morneau's article (1977, almost thirty years ago) was suggested as the basis for what I might say. Since I did not have a copy of it, I began to make my own list of qualities a delegate should have. I came up with a dozen or so. To my surprise, when the article arrived I discovered that the future bishop and I were thinking along the same lines. I thought to myself, "Maybe I should have been a bishop!" Many of you could Marie de Lourdes Mates IHM, who has taught at all levels of K-12 and published various articles, resides at the IHM House of Prayer; 140 West Mill Street; Nesquehoning, Pennsylvania 18240. Review for Religious come up with a similar list. I admit, though, that I learned a great deal in getting this presentation ready and even experienced a kind of conversion. That is what I will share with you now. The first word that came to my mind was articulate. I wanted delegates who would speak out loud and clear. But almost immediately I had a second thought--Whoa! Suppose they go too far and destroy what our unique history has gifted us with. No, another thing that must be present is a listening ear. This slowed me down, and I pondered the word dialogical, which Bishop Morneau had used. I called upon Webster for help: "dialogue: a talking together, a conversation." Not sufficient! Definition 2: "an interchange and discussion of ideas, especially when open and frank, as in seeking mutual understanding and harmony." Perfect! In other words, the listening has to be of a special kind, but so also does the speaking. To be articulate means to speak easily and clearly; you have to be pretty well convinced about what you are saying. Let me interject here a little story about listening. An interaction years ago with a freshman girl stopped me in my tracks and made me realize I was not truly lis-tening. Her parents were divorced. Her father was out of sight. The thirteen-year-old and her mother lived together, but in time the mother became interested in another man. She left her teenage daughter to fend for herself every weekend while she traveled by plane to spend two days with him. When. the daughter told me this story, I tried to explain that her mother had needs also. She looked up at me with tear-filled eyes and said in a shaking voice "But what about me?" I knew at once I had failed to enter into her world. I have never for-gotten her words, and even now they haunt me, still find-ing it hard to really listen. 64.3 200.q Mates ¯ Chapter Delegates, Once and Future Our delegates need to speak easily and clearly, but they also need to listen with a compassionate desire to enter into the speaker's world, not necessarily agreeing but at least understanding. Besides speaking and listen-ing well, Bishop Morneau said delegates must have trust. I thought, "Oh, this is an easy one. Isn't it a given that members of a religious community have a deep abiding trust in each other, as their polite conduct habitually shows? The thing that stymied me was that Morneau went on to say that they must have trust also in themselves. I puzzled over this long and hard. I came to realize that persons who have trust in themselves will speak their own insights and convictions with a certain self-confidence. I realized, too, that to do this they must spend time and energy listening to others and be willing to say inside chapter what they say outside chapter. Coupled with trust is another virtue, desire for truth. Regardless of who speaks--a retired sister, a young novice, a former mother general, an infirm sister, an artist (musician, painter, sculptor, poet, and so forth), or just one of the rest of us--the delegate's desire for truth must help her listen and then evaluate. She needs to turn off the stream of consciousness that runs all day long and sometimes washes past others, hardly slowing down for them. Our delegates should be prophetic persons. The Old Testament prophets acquiesced to God's call only reluc-tantly. Consider the following. Isaiah says, "What a wretched state I'm in. I am a man of unclean lips." Review for Religious Jeremiah says, "Look, I do not know how to speak; I am a child." Jonah--well, he just ran away. But God was insistent. With Isaiah: "Let's see if this live coal touching your lips will help." With Jeremiah: "Don't say you are a child. Go, now!" With Jonah, a storm at sea begins to get him to pay some mind to God. Consider the great-est prophet of all, Jesus: "Father, if it be your will, let this chalice pass. However, not my will, but yours be done." Being prophetic does not appear to be a much-sought- after vocation. I am mentioning these things about prophets because the women we elect as delegates will automatically assume the role of prophet. They will be missioned by us to determine the future direction of our IHM commu-nity. If this direction is to be in accord with the will of God, certain characteristics should be evident. They should be women who are perceptive, sensitive to the here and now. We hope they will walk unshod the way of the lowest and the least. We want them to come up with new and exciting ideas for all of us--the old and infirm, the young and ambitious, those nearing retirement, those changing their apostolates. We want them to respond sensitively to the question "But what about me?" as each group asks it. We also want them to be sensitive to our roots and traditions, knowing enough of our history to stand firmly on the shoulders of the courageous holy women who were here before us. Prophets are courageous. Consider some from our own time. Dorothy Day, who did jail time for civil disobedi-ence and also (as Father Richard McSorley said) "led the way within the Catholic Church on solidarity with the poor, racial justice., all those big issues., she brought the name Catholic to all of them. These issues that pri-vate Catholics see as politics she saw as faith, and knew it had to come from faith and be alive with faith." 64.3 200~ Mates ¯ Cbapter Delegates, Once and Future Consider our foundress, Mother Theresa Maxis, who was forced to live outside the community she had worked so hard to establish. Consider Mother Teresa of Calcutta, who embraced lepers and opened her heart to the poor-est of the poor. Consider Joan Chittister, Benedictine sister, ' whose outcries for justice and peace have been heard and will continue to be heard by many around the world. Perhaps now as we prepare for the chapter of 2006, some new courageous happenings will occur. Courage can be manifested in all kinds of ways. It might be just bringing an issue to the forefront for consideration. It might be putting some relationships in jeopardy because of what some see only as boldness or outspokenness. The model delegate should be a person of vision-- but what exactly does that mean? It definitely does not mean they live in la-la land. Sometimes, however, I think that the term vision triggers a picture of someone out in space. So let us bring it down to earth. Simply, an IHM sister of vision sees something that many do not. That "something" could be anything from a cute idea to a unique dream. It could be something so commonplace as a one-on-one learning environment, only one teacher and one learner. It could be a duck farm. A friend called me one day and asked if she and her cousin could use my computer and set up a conference call with a con-struction company. I said yes, thinking it was a matter of great import. It turned out that he was just starting to plan a duck farm. His long-range plan was to raise ducks for gourmet restaurants. To me this seemed crazy, but when he promised me a duck dinner I thought--who knows?--that maybe in the not-too-distant future he would be a man of means. The sister who has vision will see value in what at first seems crazy to most people. I am suggesting that Review for Religious we have to look beyond the ends of our noses to deter-mine the best direction for our aging community. We need to have some answers for the young, the old, and the in-between in our community when they ask, "But, what about me?" Victor Hugo, author of Les Miserables and The Hunchback of Notre Dame, had this to say about visions: "Progress will be carried forward by a series of dazzling visions." I love that word "dazzling." The visions have to be startling; they have to awaken us and get us moving. Long before Victor Hugo, the prophet Habakkuk also had something to say about "the vision." I remember it from a time about twenty-five years ago. In her morning talk a speaker had created an air of excitement, but in the after-noon session the excitement disappeared. I left the assem- .,,. Prophetie delegates need t6 be pcrsoqs, of " ,de ray&;: especially script al prayer. bly feeling rather down, but I remembered the words of Habakkuk from the day's Scripture reading. It is time to hear those words again: Write down the vision clearly upon the tablets, so that one can read it readily. For the vision still has its time, presses on to fulfillment, and will not disappoint. If it delays, wait for it, it will surely come, it will not be late. (Hab 2:2-3) As I said, being a prophet is not a fun thing. Prophetic delegates have to work hard: read, study, do research. They have to make decisions, some very hard decisions. They have to make them decisively, with cer-titude (as Morneau says, referring to Newman), and then hold themselves responsible for what results. They need to be persons of deep prayer, especially Scriptural prayer. 64.3 200Y Mates ¯ Chapter Delegates, Once and Future Such prayer will illuminate their understanding of con-temporary issues. Dorothy Day can help us here. In her autobiography The Long Loneliness, she describes herself at the age of ten. "We lived in a house with an attic, and I spent hours one rainy Sunday afternoon reading the Bible. I remember nothing that I read, just the sense of holiness in holding the book in my hands. I did not know then that the Word in the Book and the Word in the flesh of Christ's humanity were the same, but I felt I was handling something holy." Dorothy's love of the Scriptures persisted throughout her lifetime and even-tually led to her conversion to Catholicism and to her lifelong work with the poor. Scriptural prayer should be the mainstay of every chapter member. It already plays a major role in all of our lives in the Christian Prayer that we pray three times a day. It would be worth the while of every chapter delegate, in fact every sister who puts her name on the list of nom-inees, to ponder well the words of Hebrews 4:12: "The Word of God is something alive and active: it cuts like any double-edged sword but more finely; it can slip through the place where the soul is divided from the spirit, or joints from the marrow; it can judge the secret emo-tions and thoughts." And then suddenly in verse 13 it switches from the Word of God as an "it" to the Word of God as "the one": "No created thing can hide from him; everything is uncovered and open to the eyes of the one to whom we must give account of ourselves." Dorothy Day at age ten was assuredly an inspired person. You might wonder why I have referred to Dorothy Day more than once. When I was a junior in high school, I joined the Martin de Porres Club at Harrisburg Catholic High. Every Thursday my friends and I traveled to an inner-city house run by a woman named Mary Frecon. There we taught little African American children, helping Review for Religious them with their school work and interacting with them. One Thursday I noticed that the work space was spruced up as if for something important to happen. About the middle of the session, Mary came through accompanied by an elderly woman with white hair. They simply paused for a few minutes, and I simply ignored them, being involved with the children and their work. Afterwards Mary came back and exclaimed, "Do you know who that was?" I shrugged my shoulders. She said, "That was Dorothy Day." I shrugged my shoulders again. Later on in life, I got to know about Dorothy Day. I have never forgotten her favorite quotation, taken directly from Dostoyevsky's The Possessed: "All my life I have been haunted by God." To that I add: All my life I have been haunted by Dorothy Day! To me her life seems the per-fect response to the question of the poor, the addicted, the sick, the helpless when they ask "But what about me?" Morneau ends his article about chapters by portray-ing the delegate as a wounded healer, the term that Henri Nouwen had introduced. Most of us would admit to being wounded people, people who have experienced some deep hurts, which sometimes seem beyond heal-ing. But out of those hurts can come deep compassion for others who are hurting. Without being told, one can sense it. Compassion heals, not only the one to whom the compassion is directed but also the one who is showing compassion. Hopefully, the delegates we choose will be women of compassion. Persons of compassion do not make judgments on the motives of others. If you have ever been the object of judgmentalism, your experience helps you avoid inflicting such destructiveness on others. A delegate should be able to balance tolerance of per-sons with an intolerance of falsity. Do not be dismayed if you are chosen to be a chap-ter delegate and you do not have all these qualities. It 64.3 2005 Mates ¯ Chapter Delegates, Once and Future will be an elegant sufficiency if the chapter assembly itself contains individuals who together have these qual-ities. It would be a miracle if anyone had all of them. Here let me quote, what Morneau quotes toward the end of his article (Micah 6:8): "This is what Yahweh asks of you: only this, to act justly, to love tenderly, and to walk humbly with your God." I would emphas!ze the first challenge: "to act justly." I believe it encompasses everything that has been said up to this point. If we work to act justly, to DO justice, everything else will fall into place. As a community we are already becoming more involved in works of justice. We are responding to the poor and the needy here in the United States and in Haiti, Peru, and Chile. We are attentive to the question "But what about me?" and are alleviating pain and suffering where we are able. One day in Louisville, Kentucky, at Fourth and Locust, Thomas Merton suddenly realized that he loved all people and no one was alien to him. As a community we are growing in that same realization. For me there occurred a profound conversion to justice in the sum-mer of 1973, while I was studying physics at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute in Troy, New York. One weekend a Franciscan sister took me along to her motherhouse in Buffalo. We visited Niagara Falls, and I was duly impressed. But later we drove upstream to view the Niagara River, the flow of which creates the falls--and mesmerized me. The river's swiftness took my breath away. The sunlight glittering off the surging waters filled me with a kind of supernatural joy, while their force to sweep everything before it--and me too if I let it--fright-ened me. I have never forgotten that impression. The memory awakes in me every time I read the prophet Amos (5:24, l~SV):."But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream." Review for Religious Can you imagine what our world would be like if more and more people let their justice roll down like a river? For us I think the time is ripe. Let's ROLL! The Crossing John 6:17 The crossing is hazardous: fragility 6fold wood in a fretful sea, the weight of oars against contentious waves, implacable darkness, absence of horizon, ominous thunders. Then - the skin grows cold with terror - like a brooding spirit he comes gravely across the water: fathomless radiance, first light of a new world. They stammer in recognition and welcome him into the boat where no one dares question what darkness he has crossed to bring them safe to land. Kate Martin OSC 64.3 2005 MELANNIE SVOBODA Community Chapters: Seven Personal Beliefs y personal beliefs about this chapter we are ~. iv .1. beginning amount to seven, the perfect biblical number. 1. This chaplet won't be easy. I say this not because I have some secret knowledge of what will transpire here these next few days. I say it because this chapter is a part of life and life is not easy. As we know, in the Bible the primary image of life is a journey, and any journey is fraught with difficulties. It takes courage even to embark on a journey, because we must leave where we are, we must let go of the known. We cannot start on a journey and stay put at the same time. Once we have taken to the road, we must negotiate unexpected turns, steer clear of dangerous potholes, plan regular "pit stops," devise detours around roadblocks, interpret road signs, and check the fuel gauge regularly. (Recently I saw a cartoon of two men walking away from their car. They had run Melannie Svoboda SND, provincial of the Sisters of Notre Dame of Chardon, Ohio, presented this material as part of the opening of their chapter of December 2003. Her address is 13000 Auburn Road; Chardon, Ohio 44024. Review for Religious out of gas. One man says to the other, "I thought the E meant Enough!" It is one thing to see signs, another to interpret them correctly!)Journeying is hard work. Small wonder that we are often tempted to forsake the life journey by going back into the past (it is familiar and feels safe), by stopping altogether, or by taking a side road that is easier but leads to no place worth going. At this chapter let us recommit ourselves to the hard work of daily living, to the hard work of our earthly jour-neying. And let us commit ourselves to the hard work of this particular chapter--four days of undeniable self-discipline, the discipline of sitting, listening, speaking, praying, discerning, waiting in line. Talk about modern asceticism! 2. This chapter will be fun. It will be fun because we are here--and just look at us! What a unique group we are! Has God got a sense of humor or what? This chapter will be fun because where we are there is bound to be some joy and laughter. When we did the recent inter-views for the Appreciative Inquiry, how many of us said that one reason we were drawn to the Sisters of Notre Dame in the first place was their joyfulness! This chap-ter will be fun also because the planning committee has thought up some fun activities for us to do. But, most of all, it will be fun because we know who is ultimately in charge of this chapter. Not me, not our facilitator, but God! Yes, at this chapter we will discuss some seri-ous issues. Yes, we will make some serious decisions. Yes, there may even be a few tears as we try to express what is deepest in our hearts. But I hope we will do the work of this chapter with a lightness of heart that comes from our charism: that deep experience of God's goodness and provident care. Jesus is at this chapter. Maybe we should have made a folder with his name on it, Jesus is here in word, in 64.3 2005 Svoboda ¯ Community Chapters 254 sacrament, in each other. It is in Jesus' name that we are gathered here, and, as Jesus promised, "Where two or three are gathered in my name, there I will be!" Jesus is with us. Emmanuel. That fact cannot help but bring smiles to our faces! 3. This chapter needs me. This chapter needs every sis-ter regardless of her age, education, health, ministry, temperament, background, mood. It needs every sister regardless of her chosen level of participation. In the name of all of us, then, I welcome every sister to speak. And I welcome every sister to listen and to pray. Throughout these days we will have times of formal dis-cussion. But we will also have times of informal sharing as we gather around the coffee urn, eat lunch together, meet in the hall, or ride back and forth in a car. The Spirit can use even these times to move hearts. Perhaps I may never say anything at the open mike, but I can still influence this chapter by some.thing I say in my small group or even while standing in line for the restroom. 4. This chapter must be rooted in the real world. God is found only in the real world--not some fantasy world of our own making. No, in the real world. And what does the real world look like? First of all, it is a world of incomparable beauty--from stars to snowflakes, roses to mountains, sunsets to the Grand Canyon. So much beauty! It is a world filled with innumerable people of goodwill--in all lands, in all cultures--people who live their lives with faith and love. But the real world is also a world steeped in war and violence. Historians tell us the 20th century was the bloodiest century in human his-tory. Ours is a world of the obscenely unfair distribu-tion of the world's limited resources--where 1.2 billion people live on less than one dollar a day. The Jesuit Jon Sobrino calls this reality a "macro blasphemy." It is a world filled with hunger, poverty, greed, corruption, and Review for Religious wanton disregard for the sanctity of human life. I could go on. But, the fact remains, this is the world into which Jesus was born over two thousand years ago, the world in which he still lives. And it is the world he calls us to serve today. This chapter, therefore, must acknowledge both the beauty and the ugliness of the real world. It must take into consider-ation both the light and the darkness in the world--the world not only out there, but the world in here, in °,. ,,. ~ .~' .' our community and in our own hearts. We began our chapter with a reconciliation service. That was no accident. May forgiveness and rec-onciliation be an underlying theme of everything we do here these days--and beyond. 5. This chapter can't do everything, but it must do some-thing. When we contemplate all the needs of the world, we can become overwhelmed. So many voices crying out for help! Yet our resources are so limited. At times the inces-sant cry of the poor can even paralyze us. We can find ourselves crying, "We can't do everything!" And that is true. We cannot. But, for God's sake, let us do something. I believe this chapter will do something. I do not know what, but it will. That something might be the passing of a proposal dear to my heart--or the defeat of one I cher-ish. Maybe this chapter will result in a single step in a new direction or an old one. Or maybe this chapter will begin to name the content of our next province plan, the focus of future province summer assemblies, or the agenda for the next provincial leadership team. Whatever this chapter does, I hope and pray it will result in some definite corporate movement forward. But °our chapter i ith recOnciliation service? 64.3 2005 Svoboda ¯ Community Chapters I also hope this chapter will challenge me on a deeply personal level. I hope it will make demands upon me, stretch my thinking, and cause me to question some of my daily choices--and cause me to alter them in per-haps subtle but very real ways. 6. This chapter will not be perfect. That is because we are not perfect. And imperfect people do not a perfect chapter make! Sometimes I hear sisters say, "I don't expect much from this chapter, because all we do is talk about the same stuff over and over again. I'm tired of it!" Well, I'm not! I am not tired of the fact that we often end up talking about the "same stuff"--like community, ministry, prayer, the vows, mission. I am not surprised or disappointed either, because that "stuff" lies at the very core of our identity as women religious. The way I see it, we will always be talking about these things--we should be! Why? Because we are on a journey, and, as we go forward, life will continuously challenge our under-standing of who we are and what we should be about. Could we ever exhaust the topic of prayer? No. Will we ever be "finished" with mission? No. Will we ever be able to say, "Well, we have no more problems with community living." Or, "Well, we've got poverty down pat now, so let's move on to something else. How about chastity?" No. In the novel The Secret Life of Bees, August, a middle-aged black woman, says to the little girl Lily, "There is nothing perfect. There is only life." We could say something similar: there is no perfect chapter. There is only this chapter. The feast of Christmas reminds us that Jesus came into our broken and messy world. He did not wait for the ideal time to come. Let us not let our hopes for the ideal chapter prevent us from doing some-thing good with this real one. 7. This chapter must be about loving. Let there be no mistake: we are gathered here these four days for one Review for Religious purpose only: to become better lovers. That is the bot-tom line. This chapter must help us to love better the incredible God who seduced each one of us into mak-ing a lifelong commitment of "chastity, poverty, and obe-dience according to the spirit and content of the Constitutions of the Sisters of Notre Dame." God seduced us. I know of no better word to describe the experience we all underwent. As consecrated religious we have the duty to keep ourselves in this ardent, pas-sionate, and dangerous state of loving. May this chapter rekindle our wholehearted and reck-less love for God, for Jesus. May it remind us that we are partners with Jesus in his mission--not because we have signed up for a cause, but because we have said a loving yes to a person. May this chap-ter rekindle our love for the. church. Oh, the church! Our poor, poor church! The terri-ble scandals! The unspeakable crimes! The betrayal, the deceit! But may we remember that this church is still our church. It is still Christ's church. As Archbishop Sean O'Malley, of Boston, said at his installation ceremony, "though we are living through a ~ad chapter in the church's history, we must recall that it is a chapter, not the whole book!" And then he said these profound words: "We come here today to ask God to make our pain redemptive." What fitting words for us, as Sisters of Notre Dame who have a 153-year-old history of being marked by the cross and a 153-year-old tradition of loy-alty to the church. And, finally, may this chapter rekindle our love and devotion to one another. May it remind us that, by mak- , H'a~v .e. .w. e :ever tho:u g h t ¯of a chapter as having onepuNoseonlY) :to become ,better.lovers ? 64.3 200Y Svoboda * Community Chapters ing our vows, we have bound ourselves to one another for the term of our whole lives. We have promised to live religious life not in the abstract, but within this partic-ular, concrete congregation, the Sisters of Notre Dame. For most of us that means being embedded in the province of Christ the King of Chardon, Ohio. We live in a culture that deifies privacy, individualism, and con-trol of one's destiny. Such a culture desperately needs our witness of community, the witness of diverse indi-viduals living and working together--selflessly and joy-fully-- in Jesus' name to bring about the kingdom of God. My final prayer is a simple one. May this chapter rekindle in us the hope-filled daring of St. Julie, of Sister Aloysia, and of those countless sisters who have gone before us. And may our hope-filled daring be an inspi-ration for those Sisters of Notre Dame who will come after us--in whatever country they may be. In his apos-tolic exhortation Vita consecrata (§110), Pope John Paul says these words to us: "You have not only a glorious history to remember and recount, but also a great history to be accomplished." May this chapter be one small step toward the accomplishment of that great history. 258 Reflection Questions 1. What are the personal beliefs I would list about an upcoming chapter in my congregation? 2. What are some of the ways that we, could bring a sense of joy and a sense of passion into the ordinary busi-ness of a chapter? Review for Religious MARIE BRINKMAN Invisible-- Even to Ourselves? It comes as something of a shock to learn that some people of the Catholic faith community do not know what we are up to--we women reli-gious, that is. Engrossed in ministry as we are most of the time and in close touch with asso-ciates, colleagues, and other friends who by now take for granted our attire and our social or pro-fessional habits, we hardly realize that some still wonder where we have gone or why we live as we do.~ Others see almost nothing of our pre-sent community life or our ministries born of renewal, for we have made ourselves invisible. Unless they happen to know one or two us per-sonally, young women see little of the differ-ence we make to the church and less to attract them to the vowed life we lead. This is a claim many of us might question or debate, but few young women are knocking at our doors to give themselves to our enterprise. ] 259 I :. Marie Brinkman SCL wrote for us in 1971 and 2001. She may be addressed at Sisters of Charity; 4200 South Fourth Street; Leavenworth, Kansas 66048. 64.3 2005 Brinlrman * Invisible ~ Even to Ourselves? I want a other generation Of sisters for the ture mission and life of our community? This is not the place or time to raise moot questions about discarded religious symbolism. Options have been made available, freedom to discern how we will dress and where or with whom we will live in relation to ministries that we believe witness to the gospel. Yet, forty years after the beginning of our renewal, people ask if we are going to survive as vowed communities or congregations. How have we failed to convey to ,:~ them that we are not only alive and well but also are planning for a future even more vigorous and effective than our past? Given our reduced numbers and what some perceive as a disappear-ing act, that may sound like a pipe dream: Women's intu-ition, unreliable. Wishful thinking. Plain presumption. We stand open to such charges, but we do not accept them. Our young sisters are realists and pose questions of their own. Let me mention a few I encountered as we. were preparing for our sixteenth general chapter. In the reports from the council, from task forces, and from standing committees, notes from sisters fifty-five and younger were given careful attention. Calling themselves "Between Alpha and Omega," these sisters--who stand between the community's past and future--asked about the quality of community life, the diffusion of ministries, and a "visioning process" for looking at our future. A few paradoxes appeared as well as concerns we should all share. Repeatedly they asked for direction from com-munity leadership. ¯ Does the small size of local houses limit choices of how we can live in community? Review for Religious ¯ Are local communities willing to support a new kind of associate program allowing young people to live with some of us for a limited or extended time? ¯ How can we envision the future of relationships between SCLs and HCLs (our North American sis-ters and our hermanas of Latin America) and between our sponsored works and new ministries? That is, how can we deepen our unity of mission?2 Questions from the Associate Program director sug-gest the need for greater unity with the laity with whom we have intentionally allied ourselves for the past twenty years. Ties have been forged, and leadership within our institutions has been handed over; the identity and roles of our 180 associates are not so clear. One of them asked me how they might become more aware of the issues we face in chapter and beyond. That suggests a need for better communication and stronger collaboration with our associates--a stage other communities have already reached and gone beyond.3 A fundamental question the director of vocation min-istry posed to chapter delegates was a challenge that implied more than prayer and moral support. She asked us to ask ourselves: "Do I want another generation of sis-ters for the future mission and life of our community?" A firm yes in reply would bring a pledge to tithe a percent-age of time for the effort. Extrapolating from her recom-mendations suggests ways of committing time and talent. For example, the communication office for promotion of religious life in every channel of the media could draw on the volunteer services of active retired sisters. Houses of hospitality throughout the community could use the services of partially employed or volunteer sisters.4 A startling question came from the director of ini-tial formation, speaking in chapter on behalf of the fifty-five- and-under group. She wondered whether we realize 64.3 200~ Brinkman ¯ Invisible --Even to Ourselves? that, as women religious deepening our renewal of mis-sion and ministry, we are living "on the fringe" of the church in its present hierarchical operation,s Given facts from which the question comes, I would have replied that on the contrary we are at the heart of the church renewing itself. It is a matter of perspective, but I think she is the more realistic about the present and a consid-erable piece of the future. During a chat after an inter-congregational gathering, a novice, expressing what she felt, said in effect: "Where's our vision? Let's not be dis-tracted by a future of diminishing numbers and advanc-ing age. I want to hear us talk about the present and our potential and what we can do now to make a new future come to be.''6 She wondered whether so many small dwellings and so little cultural diversity can offer com-munity to new members. That is the voice of new life and promise. That is the echo of our founders, who knew nothing but risk and challenge. What they did we can do on new frontiers and in new ways. In her report a community councilor considered our progress in living out the vision statement of the 1998 general chapter, pledging us "to love the poor, to love one another, to live simply, and to unite the whole of our lives in the poor and loving Christ." Some of her questions challenged us to assess our lives in the light of priorities we have set for ourselves: to partner with the poor for mutual transformation, to simplify our lives in the spirit of our founders, and to make our local com-munity a welcoming experience and genuine support for each member--rather than a comfort to ourselves. Other questions challenged us to deeper awareness of what globalization has brought to the poor, to all our ministries, and to the life and mission of the church. They asked us to examine what "gospel values" and "work for systemic change" mean--in terms, for example, Review for Religious of personal and house budgets. They asked if we wish to--or even can--remain an ethnically homogenous group in the face of cultural diversity that is literally changing the face of the country we live in. Does our advocacy for the poor change us as it should?7 The councilor's questions carried implications. We may not be aware of who we really are or have become. Deeply different experiences of religious life and com-munity living divide us even within our day-to-day unity. The reconciliation we struggled to achieve during renewal chapters allows for a degree of hid-den complacency. Different perspectives on how our ministries--individual and community-sponsored-- manifest our mission may hinder further transforming action. Do we know what we are capable of and to what the Spirit now calls us? It is only fair to remark here that the chapter confronted these and other prob-ing questions persistently and with no little vision and courage. Writing the story of our community's last fifty years, I have learned something of the potential residing in institutions we sponsor and in various ways still staff. Their growth over these decades of diminishment reveals what women have always done in times of retrenchment: put people first, get purposes clear, find means where there were none, and never take no for an answer. The deluge of facts and figures took shape in patterns of change and renewal that most congrega- 64.3 2005 Brinkman ¯ Invisible -- Even to Ourselves? tions could duplicate or surpass. They include: ¯ mergers and coordinated systems of parochial schools, moving from strength of programs into lay administra-tion and staffing, and continuing commitment to under-served or inner-city areas ¯ the maturing of a small liberal-arts college for women into a coeducational university offering baccalaureate and masters' degrees to working adults, getting under-prepared minority students ready for college, educating youth to service ¯ incorporation of hospitals--regional leaders in health-care-- under a centralized health-services system com-mitted to community education and the care of all persons in need regardless of their ability to pay ¯ operating clinics staffed by sister or lay administrators and volunteer professionals to serve uninsured families and individuals ¯ transforming homes for parentless children into com-plex professional partnerships for treatment, care, and schooling of emotionally disturbed youngsters in both residential and day programs ¯ staffing missions in Latin America through forty years of growth into native leadership in formation and expan-sion of catechetical and healthcare ministries. As separate incorporation and lay boards for hospitals, homes, and the unive~'sity became advisable and advan-tageous, community sponsorship maintained the charism of the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth through strong programs of mission integration. Certainly such collab-orationand continued presence in institutions that serve cities, states, and regions affirm an identity and confirm a religious mission. Are numbers, uniform dress, and common quarters necessary for recognition and symbolic significance to those who care anything about it? If not, what then is lacking? Why are those who retain such out- Review for Religious ward signs drawing young candidates, and why are we who faithfully minister without them relatively invisible? Individual ministries have witnessed to the gospel and offered religious presence in unprecedented ways during the last four decades. Pastoral ministry drew early numbers; women took leading roles in liturgical renewal, youth ministry, and the adaptation of the RCIA to cate-chesis and religious formation. Degrees in theology, min-istry, and canon law led sisters to chancery offices and marriage tribunals, to social services and diocesan hous-ing, and to spiritual direction and retreat centers. Choices of hospital chaplaincy, ministry to the dying and their families, guidance in holistic health, and counseling of delinquents, single parents, and families meant personal encounters that called on a deep prayer life and com-munity bonds. More rare but equally demanding have been calls to scholarship, writing, and the creative arts. Potentially paradigmatic in their effectiveness and extent are individual ministries to AIDS patients, admin-istration of mission and even city parishes in the West, and repair and renovation of houses for poor families in urban areas. Partnering with civic agencies is integral to such ministries. Our Office of Social Justice and Peace has allied our communi~ for these thirty years with the lobbying forces of Network, with religious and lay groups committed to creating a sustainable environment and combating systemic poverty and oppression, and with the humanitarian offices of the United Nations. Such collaboration is common to most religious congrega-tions. The community's leadership has allied us with the Charity Federation and the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR) in their proactive agendas of renewal and mission. All of these ministries and alliances are familiar to professed religious. To allude to them is to make a point, 64.3 2005 Brinkman ¯ Invisible --Even to Ourselves? 266 namely, that the renewed unity of mission and ministry that many now seek and a renewed visibility in service to the church consist in much more than celebrating our differences and prioritizing our use of limited resources. Our unity and visibility consist, on the other hand, in more than freedom to diversify our ministries in part-nering with the poor. Making our mission and commu-nity manifest requires that we discern the Spirit's call to all women religious who believe that in their unity the people of God have a unique source of power. Our vis-ible unity must become the sign of Christ and his church that religious life is meant to be. Our unity is a crucial response to the Spirit, whose power alone can transform the church and turn back the global tide of cultural enmity and systematized violence. One of the foundations for our own faith in our future is the solid work of renewal that has continued through decades of loss and diminishment and through a period of relative immaturity in dealing with new free-doms to dress, drive, reside, and relax as we chose. This renewal effort hungers for deeper prayer life while seek-ing more effective channels of action. This renewal effort calls for community bonds that will hold firm across dis-tances and separations. Once realized, it is communion, the ultimate grace of vowed life on earth. The unity we seek requires deliberate decisions like these, adaptable to our individual communities: ¯ To find common ground for all our ministries, individ-ual and communal, in the church's mission to transform social and economic structures of oppression into resources of human growth. This means conscious commitment to uncover and combat causes of the suffering we constantly work to alleviate. ¯ To create a community culture that is welcoming and visible to young women who may desire to live and work Review for Religious with us for varying periods of time as associates com-mitted to the gospel. This means opening certain con-vents to women of various ethnic and educational backgrounds willing to learn of our charism and mission without seeking a vowed life. ¯ To make of our community communications a min-istry (rather than simply sources of information), a min-istry that lets our various publics know that all our ministries are part of the broad mission of the church on earth. Admirable models of print and electronic media exist that show salaried personnel and volunteer workers dedicatedly pursuing the goals of the religious commu-nities that own or sponsor the various large or small institutions and initiatives. ¯ To seek new ways of bringing gospel values into the national conversation: new forms of education at all lev-els (like the Jesuits' Cristo Rey schools), or public lec-tures and dialogue inspired by the community's mission (like the Benedictines' Atchison Threshold or the Global Institute at Leavenworth's University of Saint Mary). This means collaborating imaginatively and being will-ing to take some risks. ¯ To seek collaborators among associates, alumni/ae, and other friends for ventures into the public arena that do not depend on financial support or common allegiances. This means engaging partners as Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac and other founders of apostolic con-gregations did, perfecting the art of bridge building between those with means and those without. ¯ To create offices of mission and ministry that assist sisters in transition or nearing retirement to discern where best to contribute their services, within commu-nity- sponsored institution( or in partnership with sisters and associates in other activities that can use their help. This may well mean active/retirement residences for the 64.~ 200~ Brinkman * Invisible ~ Even to Ourselves? mutual support of those more active and less active. If we energetically choose some paths like these to a renewed unity of mission and ministry in our communi-ties, a new visibility will surely follow. Notes t A case in point is John Fialka's Sisters: Catholic Nuns and the Making of America (St. Martin's Press) and Ken Woodward's review in the New York Times Book Review. 2 Sister Elizabeth Youngs SCL, "Between Alpha and Omega," Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth Report for the Sixteenth Chapter, June 2004, pp. 117-119. 3 Sister Sharon Smith SCL, "Associates Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth," in SCL Sixteenth Chapter, pp. 105-107. 4 Sister Sharon Smit,h SCL, "Vocation Ministry," in SCL Sixteenth Chapter, pp. 99-101. s Sister Mary Beth Minges SCL, "Initial Formation. 1998-2004," in SCL Sixteenth Chapter, pp. 102-104. 6 Conversation with Sister Erica Berg SCL, May 2004. 7 Report from Sister Constance Phelps SCL, community councilor 1998-2004, in SCL Sixteenth Chapter, pp. 16-25. ,Review for Religious DORIS GOTTEMOELLER Living in Community: Continuing the Conversation Scix years ago I published an article titled "Living in ommunity: Beginning the Conversation." In it I suggested that the unwillingness or inability of contem-porary religious congregations to discuss this aspect of our way of life may well be our Achilles' heel, the point of vulnerability that diminishes our integrity and threat-ens our future. The article included some definitions, theological underpinnings for community living, sup-portive spiritual practices, reflections on the role of lead-ership in creating and sustaining community, and some special challenges.1 The dozens of responses to this article that I received from readers in the United States and abroad convince me that I touched on a neuralgic point. I would say the responses fall into three categories: (1) Yes, you have touched on a vital topic, tell us what to do; (2) Yes, you have touched on a vital topic, but it is too late--we have lost too much to ever regain a commitment to commu- Doris Gottemoeller RSM last wrote for us in our 62.2 issue of 2003. Her address remains Catholic Healthcare Partners; 615 Elsinore Place; Cincinnati, Ohio 45202. 64.3 200Y Gottemoeller ¯ Living in Community nity living; and (3) No, you do not know what you are talking about; it is the wrong issue and the wrong premise. In these pages I would like to dialogue with these groups. "Tell Us What to Do" The first two groups affirm the significance of com-munity living, but seek direction for its revitalization, so I will respond to them together. Several authors offer helpful insights. In a talk given to the National Religious Vocation Conference Study Days in September 1999, Nancy Schreck OSF addressed "The forces that push us toward and pull us away from community.''2 She begins with the assumption that community involves persons living together in shared space with shared resources, not in order to re-create family relationships, but in order to create the possibility of a radical following of Jesus. She develops a force field analysis in which com-peting forces or energies impinge on the reality of com-munity. The driving forces that she identifies include cosmic awareness, the struggle with diversity, the need for prophetic witness, the action of the Spirit, the iden-tity of religious life, mission effectiveness, a new desire in the members, the desire of new members, and lim-ited resources. The forces that move against community include paradigm paralysis, U.S. mainstream culture, patriarchal influence, drift, lowest-common-denomina-tor performance, adjustments made in good faith, lack of need, lack of energy, community as an event, ability of members, public witness, the asceticism of personal growth, and participation in multiple communities. This is not the place to analyze these competing forces. They are, however, part of the ambiance of religious life today, and have to be taken into consideration in any effort to energize community living. Her article could be a won- Review for Religious derful starting point for a conversation in any local com-munity or congregation. Another analysis of the current reality comes from women religious under fifty in their newsletter Giving VOICE. The December 1999 issue addresses this topic in a number of thoughtful reflections) The editor, Jan Hayes RSM, reports that the editorial team received "an avalanche" of responses to the questions: How do you define community? Does it include communal living or doesn't it? VVhat is your experience of communal living? VV-hat is it that you bring to group living situ-ations? What is it that you need? Does communal liv-ing add to the vitality of the larger community or doesn't it? Is communal living still an integral part Do ,we findit~ helpful to compare' the loosening of communal bonds: in American society tO the ~ame phenomenon in 'women's ,religious life ? of religious life? Space precludes summarizing all of the excellent contributions on this issue, both in the articles and in the comments received from emails and letters to the editor. The overall tenor of the contributions, however, affirms the centrality of communal living to the sisters' understanding of their vocation and their desire to grow in this dimension of their life. The sociologist Mary Johnson SNDdeN addressed the issue in these pages in her article titled "Bowling Alone, Living Alone: Current Social Contexts for Living the Vows.''4 She responds to an article by Robert D. Putnam titled "Bowling Alone: America's Declining Social Capital"S and to my earlier article. Putnam's the-sis is that there has been a .loosening of communal bonds across U.S. society in the last thirty years. His provoca- 64.3 2005 Gottemoeller ¯ Living in Community 272 five title comes from his observation that persons tend to bowl alone or in small groups today, rather than joining leagues, which require regular attendance. He has pre-sented this viewpoint in Vghite House conferences and national workshops and in other publications as well, and he has been quoted frequently. In Putnam's analysis, communal bonds, norms, and networks constitute "social capital" that facilitates coordination and cooperation for mutual benefit. He cites evidence of decline in religious involvement, labor-union membership, involvement in parent-teacher associations, and volunteering in civic, fraternal, and women's organizations like the Red Cross, the Boy Scouts, the Shriners, the Jaycees, and the League of Women Voters. He acknowledges that groups like the Sierra Club, the National Organization for Women, and the American Association of Retired Persons have seen a dramatic rise in membership in recent decades. But, as Johnson notes, while the political clout of these orga-nizations is considerable, the nature of involvement is vastly different from the organizations discussed previ-ously. Putnam says: "For the vast majority of their mem-bers (Sierra, NOW, AARP, and so forth), the only act of membership consists of writing a check for dues or per-haps occasionally reading a newsletter. Their ties, in short, are to common symbols, common leaders, and perhaps common ideals, but not to one another. From the point of view of social connectedness, the Environmental Defense Fund and a bowling league are just not in the same category." Similarly, Johnson adds, "a group of friends that meets quarterly, a prayer group that meets monthly, and a support group that meets weekly are just not in the same category as a c.ommunity that lives under the same roof and interacts daily." Johnson goes on to compare the loosening of communal bonds in American society to Review for Religious the same phenomenon in women's religious life. As evi-dence she cites research findings, funded by the Lilly Foundation, from a national survey of women who entered apostolic, monastic, and evangelical orders since 1965. Her data, based on responses from 70 percent of the women's institutes (whose membership constitutes 84 percent of the sisters in the United States), indicate that 69 percent of religious houses consist of one or two sisters. When asked "If you had your preference right now, with how many sisters would you prefer to live?" these post-Vatican II sisters responded as follows: with none (11%); with one other sister (14%), with two other sisters (12%); in a group of 4-7 sisters (45%); in a group of 8-10 sisters (6%); in a group of 11-15 sisters (2%); in a group of 16-20 sisters (4%); in a group of more than 20 sisters (6%). The gap between what sisters experience and what they would prefer is intriguing. No doubt the restrain-ing forces cited by Schreck above would help explain the disparity. There is much more in Johnson's article, but overall she believes that "the work of sharply defining and rebuilding community is essential to the mission and future of apostolic religious life in the United States and other nations where religious life struggles to free itself from the hegemonic hold of middle-class values." This probably summarizes the opinion of most of the respon-dents in this first group. Now to another viewpoint. "Wrong Issue, Wrong Premise" The most explicit argument is voiced by Barbara Fiand SNDdeN in Refocusing the Vision: Religious Life into the Future.6 In chapter 4 she differs strongly with Johnson and me (pp. 147-149). Citing both of our articles, she accuses us of a bias toward living together and a "high-handed" rejection of other experiences, saying that some- 64.3 2005 Gottemoeller ¯ Living in Community thing new is evolving from the grassroots which needs to be taken into consideration. Because of the diversity of living situations today, she says, "the whole tenor of what used to be called 'community living' has changed." She adds that the alleged desire of potential new members for residential community living needs to be probed fur-ther lest it be mistaken for an adequate reason for becom-ing a religious. Finally, she suggests that Johnson's bias toward community living prejudices her as a professional investigator. Fiand seems to believe--as do others with whom I have spoken--that promoting communal living today would be an example of restorationism, a regrettable regression into some prerenewal version of religious life. It is regarded as giving way to nostalgia, a selective mem-ory about the benefits and joys of living together. Nostalgia screens out, she says, the struggles and dys-functions that were part of the reality. In response I would suggest that to restore an earlier practice with a renewed understanding of its value and with suitable adaptation to changing circumstances can be a valuable retrieval. Others object to efforts to restore community living on historical grounds. They charge that women religious lived "in community" only because the hierarchical church imposed this on us. Or, similarly, they say that something which was essential to monastic life was inap-propriately required of evangelical and apostolic reli-gious life as well. This objection would require substantial historical research. Investigation would prob-ably show, for example, that the Council of Trent's effort to insist on cloister for women's religious orders was widely resisted, as much by bishops as by women them-selves, since the works entrusted to them required the ability to be out and among the people. Cloister or papal Review for Religious enclosure, of course, is not what today's supporters of communal living envision for their apostolic lives. Investigation would probably also show that various founders from the 16th century to the present have had different ideas about the significance and modality of community living, and so the research would need to make a congregation-by-congregation review. The most neuralgic point in any discussion of com-munity living is whether a congregation should express and promote any norms around living "in common," that is, in groups of two or more. The most helpful resource here is Sandra Schneiders IHM's treatment of the issue in Selling All: Commitment, Consecrated Celibacy, and Community in Catholic Religious Life.7 The premise and context of her discussion is life in a "mobile ministerial religious congregation." Her thesis is that community life, "an intrinsic and constitutive dimension of minis-terial religious life, is theologically necessary for all mem-bers of the congregation, but that it can be embodied on the personal level in a plurality of lifestyles, both group and individual, which are related to each other as equally valid variations, not as legitimate to aberration, normative to exceptional, or superior to inferior" (p. 350, italics added). Specifically, she discusses congregational group living. (pp. 317-330) and three varieties of indi-vidual living. She defines each and spells out the cir-cumstances which may prompt it and the major advantages and challenges each brings. The three forms of individual living are living singly (pp. 330-335), living alone (pp. 336-339), and living in solitude (pp. 339-349). The first is the case of someone who would not choose individual living, but is compelled to do so by educational, ministerial, or personal respon-sibilities (such as the care of aging parents). Vghen the circumstances change, persons in this category are likely 64.3 2005 Gottemoeller ¯ Living in Community 276t 7 ~ to return to group living. The second is the case of some-one who is self-marginalized, on a sort of exclaustration without going through the formalities. This is the per-son who probably has not been seen at a community event in anyone's memory. The third form of individual living is the case of per-sons who seek and choose solitude for their own spiritual development and psychological health. Schneiders describes them as neither alienated nor estranged, but deeply committed and actively involved, perhaps even holding congregational leadership posts. They are fully accountable to congregational leadership in regard to finances, ministry, and personal lifestyle; they are fre-quently involved in very demanding ministries; they are actively committed to the justice agenda. My observation about sisters in this third category is that they are the very persons with whom I would like to share community living and that, for every one of them who opts for solitary living, there is one less com-panion available to those who desire healthy group liv-ing. And so I do not agree with Schneiders that the choice to live individually is without consequence for the rest of the group, or that a norm favoring group liv-ing would be inappropriate. Each member's choice enlarges or diminishes options for others. The more often healthy and active sisters choose to live alone, the more the impression may be given that those who choose to live together are immature, dependent, and nonre-newed. Creating the Future What are some considerations for sisters who want to break through the hesitancy and silence that surround the issue of community living? Here are four sugges-tions. First, the venue for choice of a norm around com- Review for Religious munity living is the congregational chapter. By the very nature of what is involved--an authoritative interpreta-tion of the commitment to community--an individual sister or small group of sisters cannot be determinative. As with any norm, interpretations in specific cases and exceptions for specific individuals can be made by the leadership. This authority to interpret the Rule and to apply it in specific circumstances is one of the highest obligations of leadership. If done sensitively and consis-tently, it will build up the common good and respond to individual needs. Exceptions, then, will not detract from the clarity of the ideal embraced by the membership and the good-faith efforts to strive toward the ideal. Second, congregations will legitimately differ in their interpretation of their commitment. Their history, tra-ditions, and present circumstances may prompt some to choose the norm of living in common, others of living singly, and others of honoring individual choice. Clarity about what the normative interpretation of community is may lead to less diversity in lifestyle within a congre-gation and more diversity among congregations. This clarity should be valuable in describing a congregation to the larger church and to potential new members. Third, in discerning their choice around community living, each congregation should factor in how its choice influences its practice of poverty, of obedience, of celibacy, of prayer, and of ministry. Each of these ele-ments of religious life is meant to interact with the oth-ers to create a synergistic whole. How is a communal spirituality built up through the daily efforts of the mem-bers? How is the sharing of goods implied by poverty realized in practice? And so forth. In a way the manner of community living chosen creates a template for the realization of each of the other elements. The discern-ment should also project the possible impact of the 277 ¯ 64.3 2005 Gottemoeller ¯ Living in Community 278] choice into the future. What will be the possible impact of the congregation's present choice a generation from now? Fourth, the congregation's choice of a norm around community living must be supported by appropriate resources, both material and spiritual. If it is true that forty-five percent of sisters desire to live in groups of four to seven, and this is consistent with the congrega-tion's norm, then housing must be found to make that possible. The loss of parish convents is one of the factors that led to the drift into individual living, and apart-ments will seldom accommodate more than two people. Of course, the investment in living space requires a good-faith commitment on the part of groups to use the space. Congregational leadership has to invite and promote the dialogues that lead to these choices. Leaders .also have to make available other resources, such as materials for group prayer and ritual, occasional group facilitation, intervention in crisis situations, and a general climate of encouragement and support. The intention in pursuing this conversation is not to simplify what is a very complex issue, having historical, cultural, sociological, and theological dimensions. Nor is it to minimize the experience of anyone living religious life today. Rather, the purpose is to call attention to a principal dimension of religious life and to invite a cor-porate discernment. Few questions cut closer to the real-ity of a congregation's identity than its norm or lack of norm around community living. Attempts at dialogue are sometimes stalled by the prospect of choosing between ministry and community living, with the assumptions that members cannot be expected to bring energy to both and that ministry is to be preferred. A better perspective would be to view both ministry and community as equally valuable expressions Review for Religiozts of mission, each strengthening the other. The presence of adults living together in simplicity and harmony, shar-ing prayer, hospitality, and the duties and struggles of daily living, is an uncommon and striking witness to the power of the gospel and the dynamism of a congrega-tion's charism, so much so that it deserves to be called a prophetic stance. Six years ago I closed with the phrase that is the sub-title of the Vatican document on community, "The Love of Christ Gathers Us into Unity." This phrase captures the motive and dynamism of community life. Only the love of Christ is enough to support and sustain this way of life. Love attracts and gathers us. The process is never finished, always calling us to greater unity, greater gen-erosity, greater zeal. We will all fall short of this ideal, but it is one that will never be approached unless it is artic-ulated in behavioral expectations appropriate to a con-gregation's charism and mission. Notes ~ Review for Religious 58, no. 2 (March-April 1999): 137-149. See also my article "Community and Communion: Making the Connections," Review for Religious 60, no. 2 (March-April 2001): 139-151. 2 Horizon, Spring 2000, 7-15. 3 Giving VOICE 1, no. 3 (December 1999). Contributors include Denise Starkley OP, "Community: An Essential Part of Charism"; Rayleen Giannotti RSM, "A Common Life and a Vibrant Spirituality"; Janice Bader CPPS, "Commitment Grows through the 'Rubbing of Elbows'"; Debbie Wells CPPS, "Generation Xers in Community: A Cultural Expert--No Experience Necessary!"; and Kathy Wright SL, "Community ls for Mission." 4 Review for Religious 59, no. 2 (March-April 2000): 118-130. s Journal of Democracy 6, no. 1 (January 1995): 65-78. 6 Barbara Fiand SNDdeN, Refocusing the Vision (New York: Crossroad Publishing Co., 2001). 7 Sandra Schneiders IHM, Selling All, Vol. 2 of Religious Life in a New Millennium (New York: Paulist Press, 2001). 279 64.3 200Y Gottemoeller ¯ Living in Community Prayer: Psalm 122:1-3, 6-9 I rejoiced because they said to me, "We ~ill go up to the house of the Lord." And now we have set foot within your gates, O Jerusalem-- Jerusalem, built as a city with compact unity. Pray for the peace of Jerusalem! May those who love you prosper! May peace be within your walls, prosperity in your buildings. Because of my relatives and friends I will say " Peace be'within you!" Because of the house of the Lord, our God, I will pray for your good. Reflection and Discussion What is my personal experience of community support and sharing in our congregational vocation and charism? Religious community life mirrors the secular cultural breakdown of social groupings. Do we agree or disagree? If we agree, what kind of changes would we want to work for in religious life? What would be some "norms" that a religious congrega-tion might establish to support and sustain a healthy living "in common"? Review for Religiou~ MARY C. CARROLL With Love from Calcutta and Lisieux: Letters of Mother Teresa and St. Th~r~se When Father Michael van der Peet SCJ, A col-league of mine and seminary spiritual director, lectured on Mother Teresa of Calcutta, it was not just his reporting of particular facts but the heartfelt friendship he had with this remarkable woman that inspired me.~ Because of my com-pelling interest, Father shared the twenty let-ters he had received from Mother Teresa and spoke at length about their conversations and his continuing sense of her presence in his life. I was reminded of another friendship and the poignant letters exchanged between Maurice Barth~l~my-Belli~re, an aspiring seminarian, and Th6r~se of Lisieux. As he departed from France for the African missions, Maurice was deeply consoled by the assuring words of Th~r~se that somehow she would be with him. What is it that motivates and sustains such relationships? Mother Teresa wrote her letters in Mary C. Carroll SSSF is a professor and spiritual director at Sacred Heart School of Theology; .7335 South Highway 100; P.O. Box 429; Hales Corners, Wisconsin 53130. witnessing 64.3 2005 Carroll ¯ With Love from Calcutta and Lisieux 282 the midst of enormous travel demands, and Th~r~se of Lisieux wrote even when she was extremely ill. What is it that so strongly moves people to assist one another on the spiritual journey? Examining these two relationships may provide insight into Jesus' admonition to "abide in my love" (Jn 15:9). My purpose here is (1) to describe the origins of these two friendships, (2) to explore the contents of select letters and conversations, and (3) to share the wisdom of the relationships. Mother Teresa of Calcutta and Father Michael At a bus stop in Rome, Father Michael--a native of Holland and something of a world traveler himself-- noticed that the diminutive woman patiently waiting was Mother Teresa. Considering how rare such a respite must have been for her, he thought of giving her just a nod of recognition. But then he thought: "Here is a saint and I am a sinner. At least I can ask her to pray for me." Fortuitously the conversation that ensued included an invitation to give a talk to Mother's congregation, the Missionaries of Charity, in Rome. Arriving early and sitting in the chapel, Father Michael noticed the Ego Sum (I Am) on the tabernacle door. This became a prayer focus and filled him with a sense of "holy ground." This day concluded with another invitation, for a retreat. Mother requested continuing contact because, as she told him, "You kriow Jesus and you know us.''~ In her first letter Mother says: I would be grateful if I could turn to you for spiritual help, but I am absolutely too small and empty. Only Jesus can stoop so low as to be in love with one such as me. Pray for me--that "No" does not pass through my heart and lips---when Jesus asks. (Letter 1, 11/16/75) Because of traveling, Mother apologizes for a delay in her next letter; she assures Father Michael, however, that Review for Reli~ous a holy hour follows every Mass so that "I get the two hours with Jesus before people and sisters start using me. I let Him use me first" (Letter 2, 3/6/76). Several months later Mother is in New York and invites Father Michael to a private meeting, during which he suggests leaving after an hour. Mother's response is "No. The morning is for us, and the media don't know where I am." On. another occasion Father Michael raised a question: "Wherever you go, Mother, people con-sider you to be a heroine or saint. You received all those beautiful prizes. The Holy Father admires and praises you. You were the guest of Indira Gandhi, of Queen Elizabeth, and of President and Mrs. Reagan. How do you handle all of that?" She laughed and said: "Father, [pointing to her ear] it goes in here and comes out there. I am too small to contain it all. Jesus has given me a great grace, and that is the absoluteconviction that I am nothing without Him. If He could find a poorer woman than I, He would not choose me but He would choose that woman." This theme of "littleness" appears again in a letter: I want to write, but I have nothing to say, but that wonder at His great humility and my smallness--noth-ingness. I believe--this is where Jesus and I meet-- He is everything to me--and I--His own little one--so helpless--so empty--so small that all these things that people keep pouring at and round me, can-not enter within me. Maybe because of the darkness I do not see. Maybe He just wants it to be so. I let Him have His way. I smile at the cardboard box [referring "If He co ld find a poorer w man than!, He would noLchoose me but He would choose tha woman." 283 64.3 2005 Carroll * With Love from Calcutta and Lisieux 284[ to herself] getting filled--with all kinds of things-- Big things, most of which I do not understand, but I know that I am being used--only--for and by them so that they proclaim the presence of the Poor--and their concern for the poor. And so I accept everything with a smile in their name. (Letter 3, 5/29/76) In another letter the theme of an unconditional love-- despite the inexplicable darkness that encircles Jesus within her--is quite pronounced in the last paragraph: My love for Jesus keeps growing more simple and more I think personal. Like our Poor, I try to accept my poverty of being small, helpless, incapable of great love, but I want to love Jesus with Mary's love, and His Father with Jesus' love. I know you are praying for me. I want Him to be at ease with me--not to mind my feelings--as long as He feels alright--not to mind even the darkness that surrounds Him in me-- but that in spite of everything Jesus is all to me and that I love no one but only Jesus. (Letter 4, 6/19/76) Within a few months Mother is writing of Brother Roger of Taizd's presence in Calcutta and marveling at someone so full of God and willing to live right in the slums. She promises Father Michael more sharing when her table is "a little empty of letters" (Letter 5, 11/6/76). There is a specificity of issues--providence and faith-fulness- mentioned in the following letter. First Mother refers to their wonderful "chance" meeting in Rome. We have received much from accepting to meet-- without being consulted or prepared. I do not know how He does with you--but with me He always does so--just to make me realize His tender concern for me and my nothingness--His fullness and my empti-ness- His infinite Love and my childlike love. (Letter 6, 11/26/76) Then she addresses Father Michael's personal concerns: Review for Religious "Let not your infidelity and hesitancy as you say--pre-occupy you, but accept all that He gives and give what-ever He takes with a big smile. For this is holiness: to do His will with a big smile" (Letter 6, 11/26/76). But that smile is difficult for her too as she handles her celebrity status in a visit to the United States. "It was all one act of blind obedience. I began to understand the Stations of the Cross with a deeper meaning. The Police, the crowds, it all seemed as if Calvary was being re-enacted all over again" (Letter 6, 11/26/76). The significance of the Missionaries of Charity and the Eucharist are recurring themes as well. Mother is impressed by a priest who points out that God has to exist or else the MCs have "no meaning at all." She agrees, but adds that the essential source for this ministry is the meekness and humility of Jesus: To be able to eat the Bread of Life--we need meekness and humility--if we want to feed Him in the hungry one. I would be happy if you [Father Michael] wrote about the hunger of man and the Bread of Life, the hunger of God and the Hungry One in the distressing disguise of the Poor. (Letter 6, 11/26/76) Regarding hours of adoration, Mother confides, "Here lies our strength and our joy." She concludes: "I ask you to tell Jesus--when at your wordwthe bread becomes His Body and wine becomes His Blood--to change my heart, give me His own Heart so that I can love Him as He loves me" (Letter 6, 11/26/76). Within the year, Mother makes a similar plea with deep affection: "My prayer is very close to you. I do hope you will keep me close to you in your prayer--and love Jesus for me, for all the times when my heart is cold and empty" (Letter 7, 6/20/77). A short time later Father Michael is planning an extended time of reflection and Mother has some pas-toral words for him: 64.3 200~ Carroll ¯ With Love from Calcutta and Li~'eux It is just like you to ask to spend the [three] 3 months with Jesus alone, but if during this time the hunger for Jesus in hearts of His people is greater than yours for Jesus you should not remain alone with Jesus for all the time. You must allow Jesus to make you bread to be eaten by all those you come in touch with. Let the people eat you up--by the Word and presence you proclaim Jesus. (Letter 8, 2/17/78) She then lays out a tentative plan for her scheduled time in St. Louis: I wish you would be there. We could--maybe have Adoration every day and so bring . . . our lives [together] with the Bread of Life. No greater love, not even God could give than in giving Himself as Bread of life to be broken to be eaten so that you and I may eat and live, may eat and satisfy our hunger for love--and He seemed yet not satisfied for He too was hungry for love, so He made Himself the Hungry One, the Thirsty One, the Naked One, the Homeless [One]. (Letter 8, 2/17/78) Mother claims that she can understand Jesus' majesty because He is God, but "His humility is beyond my understanding because He makes Himself the Bread of Life so that even a child as small as I can eat Him and live." In further reflection on the Eucharist, she recalls an awesome memory: Some days back, when giving Holy Communion to our Sisters in the Mother House, suddenly I realized I was holding God between my [two] 2 fingers. The greatness of [the] humility of God. Really no greater love--no greater love than the love of Christ. You, I am sure must feel often like that when, at your word ¯. the [b]read becomes the Body of Christ, the wine becomes the Blood of Christ. (Letter 8, 2/17/78) Her closing comment is characteristic: "He [Jesus] Review for Religious can do with me just as it pleases Him without even a thought of consoling me. I iust want to be His own lit-tle one, if He so wants. Otherwise I will be happy to be just Nothing and He everything" (Letter 8, 2/I 7/78). After more than a year's lapse, a subsequent letter includes an apology for a "long silence." She refers to the Silver Jubilee celebration since, with the foundation in Beirut, twenty-five tabernacles are established in MC houses around the world. With reference to the Eucharist, she again ponders the ineffable: "I just under-stand less and less the humility of God-made-man for love of us" (Letter 9, 5/30/79). A few months later, at the time of the congregational chapter, Mother makes a request: "Ask Our Lady to take care of our Society, which was born at her pleading and grew under her care. I would love to be just a simple Sister. I will not ask--let Jesus do whatever He wills without con-suiting me, for I belong to Him" (Letter 10, 9/22/79). She also offers an apology for leaving Father Michael and oth-ers at a profession in New York to join Cardinal Terence Cooke in meeting with the boat people: "The sea has become an open Calvary where the Passion of Christ is being relived . You only wonder how people can suffer so much and never break. Looking at them I feel physical pain right in my heart" (Letter 10, 9/22/79). Mingled with joy in the expanding congregation, the letter contains signs of a dark night of the soul: "As for me, the silence and the emptiness is so great that I look and do not see, listen and do not hear. The tongue moves but does not speak. Helpless yet daring." Mother asks for prayer so that "I let Him have a free hand and even if He chooses to cut me to pieces that every single piece, however small, be only His." Mother ends with "Ask Our Lady to take care of me as she took [care] of Jesus" (Letter 10, 9/22/79). 64.3 2005 Carroll ¯ With Love from Calcutta and Lisieux 288 There is a postmark from Rome on the next letter. "A bishop told me that I will spend my Purgatory in writing letters, because I am so bad in answering" is her opening statement. Even so, she claims that, "however long Purgatory may be, there is the beautiful hope of seeing Jesus, one day." Her delay is, to some extent, due to her presence at a synod. She expresses amazement to be "with all the big people of Church" (Letter 11, 10/18/80). At the synod Mother requests that the bishops and the Holy Father "give us holy Priests." She then reflects on Father Michael's priesthood: "How tenderly Jesus must love you as to use your tongue to change [b]read into the Body of Christ and through your absolution take away the sins, wash the sins with His precious Blood." Mother is delighted that soon "we shall have Priest-Co-workers." She closes with "Let us keep the joy of loving Jesus in our hearts and share this joy with all we meet" (Letter 11, 10/18/80). During the next decade Mother's letters are less fre-quent but, with reference to Father Michael's corre-spondence, she repeats, "They are my strength" (Letter 12, 12/29/82). Upon returning from Ethiopia she somberly says, "I only saw an open Calvary, where the Passion of Christ was being relived in the bodies of crowds and crowds of people." She hopes, however, to send more sisters to be Jesus' gentle presence to them (Letter 13, I/1/1985). "Often I have wanted to write, but not knowing where you are--it was [a] good excuse not to write" is one of the opening lines of her next letter. With so much poverty around the world, the three hundred and fifty MC houses in seventy-seven countries console her. In her imaginative way she says: St. Peter must be wondering what is happening in the homes of the MC's, as each one who dies in our homes Review for Religious goes to heaven with a ticket for St. Peter. [Twenty-three] 23 thousand have died with us only in Calcutta out of the 53,000 that we had picked up dying from the streets. Same is happening in New York. Already [fifty] 50 have died a beautiful death . At the begin-ning St~ Peter would not let me enter Heaven, because there were no slums in Heaven. Now Heaven is full of slum people. Jesus must be very happy to have those thousands coming to Him with love from Calcutta. (Letter 14, 1/1/88) Although there is a short typed note expressing grat-itude, the last hand-written letter arrives in March 1992. Mother repeats an earlier refrain, "Your letter brought me great joy that you still remember me and pray for me after such a long time." She is happy with an expanding congregation but hopes that the "Society remains only all for Jesus through Mary" (Letter 17, 3/3/92). Then, until Mother's death in 1997, the notes are short and typed but her spirit comes through, especially in the final letter: "God's blessings be on you as you continue to satiate the burning Thirst of Jesus." The last line concludes with "Please, pray for our Society and for me that we may not in any way spoil the works of love" (Letter 20, 3/10/97). In reflecting on his experience, Father Michael mea-sures each word as he says, "With her, you inhale God's presence." Mother's decorum is not "pietistic or exag-gerated." There is a flow of "something genuine, natu-ral, and spontaneous." At the ceremony for the beatification of Mother Teresa, Father Michael watched carefully at the unveiling of her picture and with grati-tude said in his heart, "There is my friend." In the years that have followed since her death, Father Michael says, "She has never been far from me." Whereas Father Michael and Mother Teresa met numerous times and exchanged over fifty letters, Maurice 289 64.3 2005 Carroll ¯Witb Love from Calcutta and Lisieux 290 Belli~re and Th~r~se of Lisieux never met, and exchanged only twenty-one letters. Nevertheless, their correspondence also provides a rich dynamic of a grow-ing friendship. Let us now turn to the genesis of that relationship and some excerpts from Th~rEse's letters. Thdri~se of Lisieux and Maurice Barth~l~my-Bellii~re Like Father Michael van der Peet, Maurice Belli~re --a twenty-one-year-old French ~eminarian--reached out for someone to pray for him by writing to a Carmelite convent. Mother Agnes of Jesus, Th~r~se's older sister Pauline, received the letter in which Maurice introduced himself with the words, "The grace of God, which impelled me toward the Sanctuary, has not washed away the last traces of a thoughtless life., and in spite of my efforts I have a hard time absorbing the spirit of the Church and holding myself to all the demands of the seminary rule." 3 Subsequently, while in the mundane surroundings of a laundry room, Pauline asked Th~r~se to become a spir-itual sister to Maurice by praying for him. Th~r~se was delighted, and, although they never met, thus began a significant friendship manifested in the letters exchanged, largely during the last year of her life. When Maurice Belli~re sent his first letter to the Carmel of Lisieux, he was desperate because his manda-tory military service was interrupting his seminary stud-ies and it could negatively affect his vocation. Within a week Pauline assured Maurice that a "little saint" would be praying for him. His next letter is quite idealistic, for he does not want to come back from military service "without bringing some souls back to the true Light." En route to the barracks in Caen, he drops off a postcard recommending prayer for the seminarian-soldiers and their saddened families. Review for Religious It is another nine months before Maurice sends a let-ter revealing a man, fresh from the seminary, whose per-sonal confidence in his ideals have been severely challenged. What exactly happened in the army is mys-terious; obviously, Maurice is disillusioned. He writes again, to the new prioress, Mother Gonzague, who turns the correspondence over to Th~r~se. With alacrity and sisterly concern, Th~r~se responds and soon learns that Maurice--having finished his military stint and returned to his religious pursuits--is now anxiously awaiting acceptance in the Missionaries of Africa (White Fathers). Excerpts from Th~r~se's first letter (December 26, 1896) are full of encouragement for the aspiring missionary: Let us work together for the salvation of souls. We have only the one day of this life to save them and thus to give Our Lord some proof of our love. The tomorrow of this day will be eternity, when Jesus will reward you with the hundredfold of those sweet and lawful joys which you are giving up for Him . I hope, Monsieur l'Abb~, that you will continue to pray for me, who am no angel as you seem to think, but a poor little Carmelite who is very imperfect--yet who in spite of her poverty wants, like yourself, to work for the glory of God. Thtr~se includes some of her poems. Maurice is grateful, apologizing for his "rough and ready" prose but saying he feels that something in her communication is working in the depths of his soul. Th~r~se responds with equal gratitude: "Truly, only in heaven will you know how dear you are to me. I feel our souls are made to understand each other." In this same letter Th~r~se articulates her "little way" by saying: "Since He Himself has chosen me to be your sis-ter, I hope that He will not take notice of my weakness, or rather that He will use that very weakness to do His work: 29i 64.3 200~ Carroll ¯ With Love from Calcutta and Lisieux 2921 for the Strong God likes to show His power by making use of nothing." Th~r~se has lofty desires that can be accomplished by being the "small flower" in the apostolic garden. For Thdr~se, the Divine One is not giving awards to the competent but rewards to the humble who are con-fident in Him, It is not entitlement but instrumentality. There is an increasing intimacy in Thdr~se's saluta-tion in the next letter. "My dear little Brother" replaces the formal "Monsieur l'Abb&" Fearing an overestima-tion of her person, she says, "I beg you to believe me that the good God has given you as your sister not a great soul." But she hastens to add: "Don't think that this is humility which prevents me from recognizing the gifts of the good God. I know that He has done great things in me, and every day I sing to Him with joy for doing so." Her motivation has also crystallized. "I under-stood my mission was not to crown a mortal king, but to make the King of Heaven loved, to conquer for Him the kingdom of hearts." Just months before her death, Thdr~se takes advan-tage of the privacy afforded her in the infirmary to answer Maurice's letters. She makes it clear that she is facing the end and assumes that, when he receives her letter, she will have left this "land of exile." There seems to be a sense of urgency when she says, "I would like to tell you a thousand things which I understand as I stand at the door of Eternity." One thing is clear: "I under-stand more than ever that only one thing is necessary, and that is to work solely for Him." A month later Thdr~se says, "The Spouse is at the door." Facing her own demise, she wants Maurice to know that their relationship will continue. "When my dear lit-tle brother leaves for Africa, I shall follow him not only in thought and in prayer; my soul will be with him for-ever." But Maurice is devastated when he understands Review for Religious that TMr~se's days are numbered, for he has found "a lovely home" in her friendship. He lets her know that she has been instrumental in his finding Jesus. Maurice soon expresses his anxieties and moral weak-ness. Thdr~se uses the image of an elevator of love, not fear, that takes us to God. She gives the exam-ple of two children who are disobedient. One withdraws in fright, but the other throws himself into their father's arms to beg forgiveness. Thdr~se promises to help Maurice remedy his hesitancy with God. "I think it will be easier for you to live with Jesus once I am there at His side forever." Thdr~se knows she must wait for the next life to further converse on these profound realities. In Thdr~se's last letter she speaks of knowing that her passport for heaven is ready and credits her deceased father for the grace of that awareness. Once again she assures Maurice that, whatever his faults, he is .dealing with the infinite mercy of God. She closes with: "ADieu, dear little brother, may God give us the grace to love Him and to save souls for Him." In the meantime Maurice is on board a ship destined for Africa. He recalls looking up at the stars and praying for Thdr~se, unaware it was the night she died. His first day in Africa is Thdr~se's first day in eternity. Later he is convinced that his peacefulness and joy are attributable to her. If today one goes to Maurice's grave, there is a plaque on the wall of the nearby church acknowledging this relationship: Maurice Belli~re, Spiritual Brother and Protdgd of Saint Th4r~se. A Dieu, dear littlebrother, may God give us the grace to love Him and to save soulsfor Him," 1293 64.3 2005 Carroll * With Love from Calcutta and Lisieux 294 Summary Observations These two women--sending letters permeated with affection, gratitude, and insights--gifted both Father Michael van der Peet and Maurice Barth~l~my-Belli~re. Mother Teresa's themes are more broadly based: retreat requests, Eucharistic insights, concern for an expanding congregation, global poverty, and a thirst for God whet-ted by an acute spiritual darkness that seem to hollow her out for a greater fullness of Jesus' presence. In each MC house she had the phrase "I thirst" given a prominent place as a reminder of Jesus' longing for souls, and per-haps as a reflection of her own longing for God. Th~r~se and Maurice were in their twenties and fer-vently idealistic. Th~r~se articulates the "little way" to accompany her dreams. She uses the face of Jesus and the phrase "King of Hearts" to focus her image of her Beloved. There is immediacy in Th~r~se's writing because it is penned as she stands at the door of death while whispering secrets to Maurice. Although cloistered in life, she promises that in eternity she will travel with him as a spiritual companion. Both women view themselves as God's instruments: a cardboard box, an insignificant flower. In life, many know similar images of themselves and reluctantly accept them, but these women rejoice in them. Both knew they are not sources, only conduits, of love. Both women say to their friends what John the Baptist once said: "He must increase, and I must decrease" (Jn 3:30). But, most especially, both women testify to a divine indwelling through Jesus that makes true friendship possible. "As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you; abide in my love" (Jn 15:9). Notes ~ Father Michael van der Peer, a member of the international Congregation of the Priests of the Sacred Heart (SCJ), served on the Review for Religious commission for the beatification of Mother Teresa of Calcutta. He has graciously given me permission to quote from her letters and has answered numerous questions. Further resources regarding her expe-rience with spiritual direction are J. Neuner SJ, "Mother Teresa's Charism," and Albert Huart SJ, "Mother Teresa: Joy in the Night," Review for Religious 60 (September-October 2001): 479-493 and 494- 502 respectively. 2 Words quoted here and below (whether Mother Teresa's or Father Michael's), if not otherwise documented, are from my interviews with Father van der Peet. 3 Patrick Ahern, Maurice and Tberese: The Story of a Love (New York: Doubleday, 1998), p. 15. Below, other quotations longer than three words are from the following pages of this book: 25, 65-66, 82 and 86, 82, 103 and 108, 104-I05, 106, 130, 129-130, 152 and 155, 153,188, and 211. At Cana Before time was, She was in God's eye, As a bloom in the bud Awaits its moment. And the moment, too, Was in God's eye, That sees and saves, Counts hairs on heads, Yet defers to her, Her.unspoken wish Already his command. Leonard Cochran OP 64.3 2005 MARY FRANCES COADY Alfred Delp SJ and the Heart of Jesus 296 O n the first day of December 1944, a thirty-seven- year-old Jesuit, imprisoned in Berlin and awaiting trial for treason against the Third Reich, edged himself between the plank bed and table of his small cell and with manacled hands began to write a reflection on the Heart of Jesus. His name was Alfred Delp, and he had been arrested four months earlier in an all-out purge following a failed attempt on Hitler's life the previous July. He had been interrogated and tortured. In letters smuggled out of prison by two women who brought clean laundry and other supplies to prisoners, he had written about his fear, his struggles against despair, his optimistic hopes for acquittal and release, and his desire to leave his fate in the hands of God. The date, 1 December, that he began putting his meditation to paper is significant, for as the day dawned he realized it was the first Friday of the month, the day honoring the Heart of Jesus. This devotion held a cen- Mary Frances Coady published With Bound Hands, about Father Delp, at Loyola Press in 2003. She writes from 35 Cowan Avenue; Toronto, Ontario; M6K 2N1 Canada. tral place in Delp's prayer life. The veneration of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, with its deep biblical roots, had grown to enormous popularity with the revelations to St. Margaret Mary Alacoque in the late 17th century. This obscure Visitation nun received visions of Jesus in the chapel of her convent in the town of Paray-le- Monial, in Burgundy. In these visions Jesus exposed his heart to her, saying, "Behold my heart, which burns with love for all humanity." He added that those who received Communion for nine consecutive first Fridays in repa-ration for sins against his love were assured of dying in the state of grace. In the following centuries and under Jesuit influence, the Sacred Heart devotion ushered in a new and more gentle approach to the Christian spiritual life--one of self-abandonment, trust, and surrender--as a means of combatting the cold, harsh spirit of Jansenism that had permeated the church. The Litany of the Heart of Jesus was given official church approval in 1891. Along the way, however, the devotion became encrusted with infe-rior art, sugary sentimentality, and obsessive supersti-tions regarding the nine first Fridays. Alfred Delp, the product of a Catholic-Lutheran mar-riage, grew up without Catholic devotions because his father insisted he be brought up a Lutheran. The Sacred Heart caught up with him, however, after his adolescent embrace of his mother's Catholicism and his subsequent entrance into the Society of Jesus in 1926. A book of Jesuit devotions, one of which was the Litany of the Sacred Heart, was sent to him in prison. Delp had studied philosophy and political theory, but his prayer life as a Jesuit had been fashioned by the Catholic piety of the time. As a preacher and writer, he had tried to infuse his philosophical work with his deep-ening sense of the divine mystery at the core of his devo- 64.3 2005 298 tions. On the first Friday of December, in his cold prison cell, his hands in manacles, he pondered the love of God as the driving force of the universe. In the extremity of his situation, he realized the immensity of God's love for him, that God was holding him and protecting him with a love that was infinitely greater and more powerful than the forces imprisoning him. And so he began to write his meditation on the Litany of the Heart of Jesus. The heart represents the essence, or center, of a per-son, and he had earlier written of the heart as the only way to God. Now, in a preamble to his meditation, he lamented the dissociation of the devotional from the the-ological. Without a theological foundation, he wrote, the devotion can dissolve into mush, and without the devotion the theology becomes dry and devoid of personal passion. He described the arc that moves between the divine and the human: the basis of this devotion is the cry of the creature in need and the offer of help from God through Jesus Christ. The answer from God takes two forms: a healing, redemptive help and a call for humanity to share in that healing. And so this is not a just a "me and God" approach to the heart of Jesus, but a proposal to be a graced presence for others as well. The language used in the prayer is the language of love, but the theological framework is there. The prayer expresses a deep, myste-rious relationship between God and humanity, he wrote, and must not be demeaned by sentimentality. As with other litanies, the Litany of the Heart of Jesus follows an antiphonal course; the response "Have mercy on us" follows each of the various titles attributed to Jesus. What follows is my translation of an excerpt from Delp's reflection on the first invocation: "Heart of Jesus, Son of the eternal Father." "We call upon the Heart of the Son of the eternal Father. In this invocation there are particular consider- Review for Religious ations for us to contemplate. Heart: here, as in the whole litany, we are calling upon the love of God. The Heart is the symbol of God's innermost being and God's fun-damental relationship with us. A person who does not believe in God in this way should not continue praying, because that person is not up to the words of the prayer. "Heart of the Son: one ought to be able to state briefly what theology has to say about the Son. But one thing should be men-tioned as far as this devo-tion is concerned: from the beginning, the Son is the place of comfort and belonging for the world. The Word is God's image, of which we are shadows. He has always been the living incarnation of God's commitment to the worl