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Issue 59.4 of the Review for Religious, 2000. ; )ULY: AUGUST 2000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER 4 to Gbd~s ,univerial call, to holiness by ~n~aking available :to tb~mJtbe~piritual legaHes }bat flow from tbe cbarism~ of Catbolic ~onse~ated life:, Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: foppema@slu.edu 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; ~VVashington, D.C. 20017 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2000 Re'biew for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (article~, 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. LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer sJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm James and Joan Felling Adrian Gaudin SC Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ ¯ Patricia Wittberg SC JULY AUGUST 2000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER 4 contents 342 women religious Another Window on the Crisis in Women's Communities Mary Anne Foley CND presents the renewal of women's communities as a work in progress which faces the challenge to move beyond .present viewpoints in order to see a fuller truth. 358 A Path of Humility and Truth: Historical Reminiscence Bernadine Pieper CHM shares her experience of being in leadership at the time of Vatican II changes. 368 finding God Einding God's WiII--A Maneuver W. Henry Kenney Sj describes a process for finding God's will by popping loaded questions to God in prayer and noticing the pattern of desolations or consolations. 379 Consulting Your Inner Wisdom Hilary Ottensmeyer OSB guides us to the central core of ourselves where we hear the echoes of the voice of Jesus and of all the good people who have been examples of faith and good conduct for us. Review for Religious religious vocations Tell Them, Tell the New Members. Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ proposes the need to share with younger members of congregations hints about what is most central to religious life: the mystery of divine intimacy. 396 Sister Moms: Something Old, Something New Louise Cababe OP reports on the contemporary phenomenon of women, having been married and having raised a family, bringing a new and beautiful experience to religious congregations. 399 Vocational Confidence Donald Macdonald SMM sketches out an environment of vocational confidence whei'e vocations are invited, expected, challenged, and supported. 410 prayer perspectives Praying through Sleep A. Paul Dominic SJ explores various relationships between our sleeping and our praying. 420 Toward a Spirituality of Weariness Michael D. Moga SJ considers some of the paths that lead to spiritual treasures hidden in the areas of our exhaustion and weariness. departments 340 Prisms 430 Canonical Counsel: Exceptions to Duration of the Canonical Novitiate 435 Book Reviews July-August 2000 prisms Te jubilee year we are cele-brating provides us a challenge to our observance of the Sabbath. Sabbath has always been identified with the seventh day--the day of the Lord's rest after the six days' work of creation as depicted in chapter one of.the Book of Genesis. The Christian tradition reidentified the Lord's day with the resurrection victory of Jesus, bringing to fullness the work of redemption. The idea of refraining from work has often received greater attention even though the church has always identified "making holy" the Lord's day--Sunday--by the twofold obligation of celebrating the Eucharist and doing no servile work. Of course, there h~s been a lot of moral casuistry applied to the meaning of servile work, so much, perhaps, that the focus on God slipped because of the overwhelming emphasis on human activity--what was right, what was wrong, how long or how drudging could the work be, and so On. Pe.rhaps this year of jubilee can be a call to us to mov~ beyond the casuistry and to recapture the spirit of the Sabbath. Sabbath means, above all, a chosen awareness of spending time with God. If we are to spend time with God, then we have to take time for ourselves--not just time filled up with more "doing," even .with passive sporting events or active participations in games, but time which we describe so well today in terms of just "being." Sabbath is meant to be a deeply humane time because then God can become more active in us. Sabbath points to the movement of the oft-quoted expression of St. Irenaeus: "God's glory is the human being come fully alive, and seeing God is what human life is." Review for Religqous Eucharist belongs to the Christian Sunday observance because we celebrate God's glory shining out in the victorious risen Jesus, the firstborn of the new creation. But what else for us belongs to our Sabbath observance? What enhances our relationship with God? In other words, how do we devote time to making ourselves more humane--loving, compassionate, wise, generous, available, shar-ing- so that God's glory does shine out now through us? When we truly observe the Sabbath, we are more and more like the sacra-ments of God that our Christian vocation calls us to be. Another viewpoint. In the northern hemisphere, vacation time is upon us. Vacation, being personal rest time, shares in the sabbath notion. We sometimes refer to spiritual retreats as "vacations with God." Retreats, of course, take their focus from considering our relation with God. But would we be acting more Christian if we viewed ordinary vacation time through a prism similar to our Sunday observance? Vacation time does not need to be spent "reli-giously," performing devotional prayers and acts. But would it not be appropriate for us Christians to spend our recuperative and relaxing time with a more spiritual focus? Vacation means a time of "emptying out" (of mental cobwebs and secular preoccupations) and a "leaving space" (for attention to an ever present and loving God) in the ordinariness of our life. "Keep holy the sabbath day," then, should draw our attention not to what is to be avoided, but to what enhances our relationship with God, with ourselves, with our neighbor, and with our world. Those relationships are meant to be observed together, as a whole, when we speak of "keeping holy." Keeping holy deals with all our relationships viewed in the light of God and Jesus Christ. 'When we keep holy, we move with the Spirit. We let ourselves be moved by the Spirit--with all those with whom we converse, in all things we do. Jubilee, sabbath, and our secular vacation all find their mean-ing in the one reality of celebrating God in our life. This millen-nium year is the opportunity to remember thht jubilees, sabbaths, and vacations come to us not by some kind of law or right, but by gift--the gift of God. These time periods remind us to take stock and enjoy the God-with-us now so that we take from these "moments" the realized promise and consolation of our lifetime with God forever. ¯David L. Fleming SJ 37uly-August 2000 women MARY ANNE FOLEY Another Window on the Crisis in Women's Communities religious Last year I spent much of Holy Week working my way through Ann Carey's Sisters in Crisis: The Tragic Unraveling of Women's Religious Communities.l The book's reviews did not make me anxious to read it, but I felt obliged to do so. For some years most of my research has focused on the history of religious communities of women, and my concerns about initiating new members have forced me to confront questions about the future of this way of life. Moreover, having lived through the tumultuous past three decades of change in women's communities, I have wanted and needed to gain some perspective on the experience) Although not planned, the timing of my reading proved to be both appropriate and helpful. I felt pain and anger at seeing the women who were most instru-mental in leading the changes characterized as deliber-ately manipulative, bent on revenge, unfaithful, and heretical, and those who moved with the changes they advocated, as naive, foolish, or incapable of under-standing what was taking place. At another time I might have been inclined simply to dismiss Carey's work, but reading it in the shadow of the cross enabled me to lis- Mary Anne Foley CND, a member of the Congregation of Notre Dame of Montreal, is an associate professor of the-ology at the University of Scranton; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18510. Review fir Religious ten to what was being said under and through the words, and hence to become vulnerable to it. It was somewhat like the expe-rience of reading The Autobiography ofMakolm X. I knew I was not the "white devil" he came to loathe while in prison, but I began to see why he viewed me in that way and then to recognize my own complicity in his hellish situation. Carey's stated intention is simply to document the significant changes that have taken place within Catholic communities of women in the United States over the last forty years. She does so as a journalist, relying not on her own experience but on personal conversations and extensive archival research. The book's subtitle, however, reveals the perspective from which she writes. She is convinced that the changes have been an aberration, leading these groups away from genuine religious life. Carey belieyes that the sis-ters most disaffected as a result of the changes are afraid to speak for themselves, and so shehas chosen to speak for them. While always naming the "change-oriented" sisters she cites, she often identifies her sources among "traditional" sisters only by the name of their congregation or as Sister S., for example) One of these anonymous sources insists that many older religious are experi-encing "a time of martyrdom" as they risk being "cut off, threat-ened, and persecuted" if they challenge the directions their communities have taken (Crisis, 309). Whether or not this sister represents the views of many others, and even whether or not the threat she describes is real, it is important that she be heard, and Carey challenges the reader to listen. According to Sisters in Crisis, the reason for what emerged during the postconciliar years was, first of all, a program of mis-information concerning authentic Vatican Council II teaching, orchestrated prifiaarily by officers of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR), known earlier as the Conference of Major Superiors of Women (CMSW). Carey traces the rebellion back to the Sister Formation Movement in the 1950s, which exposed young sisters to the social sciences and "controversial and speculative" theology. The Sisters' Survey of 1966-1967, con-ducted by the CMSW, is presented as playing a key role in "indoc-trinating" sisters about possible new directions for change. The definitive step in the process of "co-opting" and "stealing" the renewal is said to be the "coup" by which the officers of the CMSW altered the nature of their organization by arranging for a revision of its bylaws and changing its name from CMSW to LCWR. At var- July-August 2000 Foley ¯ Another Window on the Crisis ious points in the process, in Carey's view, the Vatican issued clear mandates to return to a more controlled process of renewal, but these leaders refused to obey. Opposing Perspectives Since Lora Quifionez and Mary Daniel Turner were among the leaders of the LCWR during the 1970s and 1980s, it is not sur-prising that their interpretation of the last forty years is diamet-rically the opposite of Carey's. As a result, reading their book, The Transformation of the American Catholic Sister, in conjunction with Sisters in Crisis was both fascinating and unsettling. According to Quifionez and Turner, the changes in women's communities are not the result of a plan devised by a few politically astute activists and then foisted upon an undereducated and unsuspecting mass of sisters. Rather, the transformation of these communities reflects a maturing of American sisters at large; that is, they have grown more conscious of their identity as Americans, as women, and as moral agents? Given this difference in interpretation, it is interesting to note the substantial agreement of these two works on the importance of the Sister Formation movement and especially the LCWR in shap-ing the last forty years of religious life in the United States. Both are clear that the Sisters' Survey went beyond its original purpose of assessing the readiness of American sisters and the availability of resources for the renewal mandated by Vatican II. Both con-clude that the survey itself affected that renewal. And both main-tain that underlying the changes was a new belief among sisters in the validity of their experience. As Carey describes it, "some women religious determined that their own 'lived experience' was more valid for defining religious life than were any of the direc-fives coming from the church" (Crisis, 75). Quifionez and Turner not only agree; they chart the emergence of that beliefi "Sisters began to notice that even long-held and never-to-be-challenged philosophical and theological premises lent themselves to the pur-poseful sounding of experience, personal and social. Experience possessed its own authority" (Transformation, 38). More significant still is the fact that neither work acknowl-edges the possibility that those whose perspective on renewal is different could contribute something toward a more profound renewal. This is more apparent in Sisters in Crisis. Although Carey Revie~v for Religious admits that at times ignorance may have played a role in the deci-sions that were made, for the most part she attributes baser motives to the main actors: "Some religious institutes purposely expanded the years between general chapters so that experiments could be stretched out. Others purposely incorporated items into their con-stitutions that they knew would never be approved by Rome so they could continue experimenting endlessly" (Crisis, 38-39). Quifionez and Turner are far more nuanced in their expression, and they do not impute motivation to such groups as the Consortium Perfectae Caritatis, which consisted largely of community leaders who had renounced membership in the LCWR. However, the absence of any critique of actions taken by the LCWR makes the reader suspect that their account may not be as objective as it first appears. This becomes particularly evi-dent in the concluding chapter of Tran~Corrnation, where Quifionez and Turner list questions to be resolved if religious communities of women are to have a future in the United States. They accurately iden-tify one of the key questions: Is it helpful or even honest to retain canonical status? But they proceed to a further series of questions, all of which imply that the only possible answer to the question of canonical status is no. Moreover, in noting that the hierarchy and the sisters must face the questions honestly, they assert that such a process "will exact a different price from each of them. For the hierarchy it will mean giving up dominative ways of governing; for sisters it will entail laying claim to rightful uses of power. For both, it will involve owning that they are peers, no matter how distinct their role in the church" (Transformation, 167). Tran~orrnation offers ample evidence of "dominative ways of governing" by members of the hierarchy, and even Carey admits that the church officials have been "obstinate" at times. These few words seem to imply that only the hierarchy has misused power and that sisters' only sin has been the failure to use it. This would surely be an oversimplification, of a sort that would tend to polarize further those who disagree about the direction the changes have taken. Underlying the changes was a new belief among sisters in the validity of their experience. July-Auffust 2000 S#ters in Crisis was published five years after Transformation and appears to be intended in part as a response to that work, a sort of revisionist history. While Quifionez and Turner did not have the opportunity to respond to Carey's assertions directly, the current leadership of the LCWR responded by claiming that the women in American religious, communities today are not "sisters in crisis," but rather "sisters in service."s There is truth in this assertion. Many of those castigated by Carey really are performing service of inestimable value, and for them to focus more on that service than on institutional survival does not call for the word "tragic" in Carey's subtitle. But that is not to say that I think there is no ~ri-sis. 6 It has been common in recent years to refer to the two Chinese characters that together convey the meaning of crisis, one referring to danger and the other to opportunity. Carey is right: there is a real danger that women's religious communities as we have known them in the United States will become extinct. But the LCWR leadership is also right in noting that the service which women's communities offer indicates a time of great poten-tial. Here I offer some reflections on how the opportunity pre-sent in this moment of crisis may be recognized and embraced. A Window of Opportunity The story is told of two men seated in the same room in a library. One was very hot and opened the room's only window. The other, afraid that his papers would blow all over, immediately closed, it, only to have it reopened by the first. The reaction of the other can be guessed. When the librarian saw the brewing conflict, she went into the next room and opened the window there, thus providing cool air without creating a disruptive, breeze.7 It seems to me that those who find themselves in deadlock on how women's communities have come to be where they are need to discover another window through which to view the last three decades. For this they may well be helped by James Fowle~:'s the-ory of faith development. For Fowler faith is a verb; it is how a per-son makes meaning of the world. We tend to "faith" in a particular way until that way of making meaning no longer works for us and compels us to make meaning differently; this he describes as a new "stage" of faith.8 During adolescence, for example, many peo-ple begin to base their faith on that of the significant people in their lives. They may have reflected deeply on what they believe Review for Religious and can probably describe the content of their faith, but it is largely tacit. Later the demands of adult life, particularly in a culture no longer homogeneous, often move people toward Individuative- Reflexive faith. Those in this stage can articulate the reasons for their faith. In addition, the source of authority for their faith has moved inward, so that they believe because they have chosen to believe. Even if the content.of their faith remains the same, it has become their own.9 Fowler notes that, as a result of midlife stocktaking, some adults experience yet another transition, to what he calls Conjunctive faith, in which they can peacefully hold their own belief while truly listening to another whose belief is different. No longer do they perceive difference as an attack on their hard-won faith that must be defended at all costs. Rather, the other person's faith becomes an invitation to deepen and refine their own belief. Such faith is not possible until one has fully moved to the Individuative-Reflexive stage by both internalizing authority and making one's belief explicit. (Otherwise what appears a willingness to allow one's own faith to be influenced by others may simply be a form of the tacit faith that allows others to define what. one believes.) The fruit of Conjunctive faith is real dialogue, which begins with the belief that each one comes to the table with a perspective on the truth and includes the humble acknowledgment ~hat each has in some way failed to serve that truth. Fowler's theory has been applied to the "faithing" process of groups as well as individuals. Of course, not all members of the group are at the same stage at any given time. But the theory can be helpful in describing a group's changing "corporate culture." In the years before the Second Vatican Council, for example, when sisters lived in an environment that exemplified one and the same faith perspective, many were able to make meaning of their world through the tacit faith that the environment supported. As Quifionez and Turner describe that time, "canonical definitions, legislated by church authorities, gave 'religious life' its existence, its legitimacy, and its value" (Transformation, 36). In asking women's communities to return to their sources and to read the signs of The other person's faith becomes an invitation to deepen and refine their own belief 3%dy-dugust 2000 Foley * Another I4andow on the Crisis the times, the council caused them to become more analytical. At the same time, both the changes sisters began to make and the movements in the church and in society around them weakened many of the structures which had reinforced their commitment, so that those who remained were forced to acquire personal reasons for doing so. The movement between external and internalized authority is well illustrated by the responses which the members of LCWR gave to actual and proposed canons of church law in 1968 and 1977. Quifionez and Turner note that these responses differed, not in content, but in the way they were justified: "While in the 1960s sisters invoked Vatican Council II to legitimate their view-points, in 1977 they relied on the authority of their own experience to ground their critique" (Transformation, 56). This suggests that Carey is mistaken in assuming that most changes were the result of a few very influential leaders imposing on the rest their way of seeing the world. That may have been true for some, but, by illus-trating the extent to which "change-oriented" sisters began to appeal to. personal experience, Carey herself provides evidence that in general these women had come to a personally appropri-ated faith?° In my view, profound as this kind of faith may be, it is limited by the tendency to exalt one's internal authority to the extent of being unable to allow one's belief system to be affected by oth-ers. This can make it almost impossible to move together as a group. At a chapter several years ago, it was proposed that the community as a group fast and abstain on Fridays as a sign of their hunger for peace. One person objected vehemently, not to the action in itself, but to committing the whole group to any practice. Her memory of practices imposed in the past seemed to make it impossible for her to accept such a limitation on individual free-dom, even when that limitation was chosen. I believe that the future of religious communities depends on their moving beyond such a stance toward the deeper openness that constitutes what Fowler calls Conjunctive faith. Over the years, many "change-oriented" sisters have looked at and tried on elements of what Carey calls "the latest theological, sociological, psychological--and eventually New Age--fads" (Crisis, 138). She condemns both this and what she considers an excessive tolerance for the views of everyone. It seems to me, how-ever, that for many sisters the opportunity presented by the pre- Review for Religious sent moment is the call to a still greater openness, by which they can allow themselves to truly listen, on the one hand, to new alter-natives and, on the other, to those who question their new ways of understanding and living. Carey does not provide evidence to sup-port her accusation that "change-oriented" communities have deliberately silenced their more traditional members, and yet I believe that in some cases the voices of these sisters have not been heard, or their views have been dismissed as reactionary, irrational, foolish. Any honest dialogue would have to begin with everyone admitting some failure to listen. Openness to dialogue is possible, though certainly most dif-ficult, when the other is not similarly open. Carey speaks of "dia-logue" as if it is often used like a ploy in a game,11 and her position throughout Sisters in Crisis suggests an unwillingness to concede that "change-oriented" sisters could possess a piece of the truth. That, however, does not free the latter from the need to continue discerning where the critique offered by more traditional sisters has its own truth that deserves to be faithfully responded to. Opening a different window on the future requires humble dialogue around many of the issues raised by Carey, among which are the mission and vowed life of sisters, their place in the church, and the impli-cations of "refounding" religious communities. Mission Even though she acknowledges that justice has played an important role in sisters' traditional apostolates, Carey maintains that "change-oriented" sisters have recently replaced their true, "spiritual" mission with social justice as "a new primary mission" (Crisis, 112). For example, she criticizes the choice of nonviolence as the theme of the 1996 LCWR conference, claiming that this reveals "the conference's continuing priority bf placing sociopo-litical issues ahead of spiritual issues" (Crisis, 242). In this.discus-sion she comes close to what Quifionez and Turner describe as the worldview of sisters before 1960, for whom the sacred and the secular occupy two different spheres. The coauthors contend that since then many sisters have moved beyond such a view and "increasingly frame the meaning of their life in terms of the church's evangelizing mission" (Transformation, 59). The bishops at the 1971 synod called "action on behalf of justice., a consti-tutive dimension of the preaching of the gospel."12 In light of that July-./tugust 2000 Foley ¯ ~lnotber Windo~ on the ~ teaching, Carey's apparently outdated perspective seems to have nothing to offer the women about whom Quifionez and Turner write. Indeed, seeing spirituality as somehow pitted against jus-tice is not helpful. This aspect of Carey's position, however, masks an important criticism that "change-oriented" sisters would do well to recognize. Quifionez and Turner state that dedication to mission has comd to encompass the meaning of many sisters' lives. They cite a "grow-ing tendency . to define religious identity as witness against cultural values and attitudes" and assert further that "work and identity are inseparably related" (Transformation, 79 and. 39). In my view, this comes perilously close to insisting not only that my work is my prayer, but that it is my life. This is indeed what our culture often proposes; I consider.it an area where sisters are called to take a countercultural stance. Surely there is a middle path between a spirituality that would have no relation to justice and a life that would collapse itself into work on behalf of justice or any other important value. Carey's articulation of the mission of sisters in apostolic com-munities is not satisfactory, but neither is that of Quifionez and Turner. Hence the need for dialogue around what Carey would call the "spiritual" .mission of sisters. Such dialogue could very well occur in the context of the vowed life. Vows Carey claims that many elderly sisters who disapprove of the directions in which their congregations have moved "take very seriously the vows they made, and they are not only disturbed that religious life has been fundamentally restructured in their own communities, but even more alarmed that in the restructured model it is difficult, if not impossible, for them to live out the vows they made to God" (Crisis, 306). Nowhere does Sisters in Crisis explain how the restructuring of communities could make it "impossible for them to live out the vows." Perhaps these sisters believe that, for them to fulfill the demands of obedience and poverty, there must be specific persons designated as superiors who give commands and permissions. If so, a system in which decisions about ministry and the use of goods are made commu-nally may never provide what they are demanding. As has already been noted, Quifionez and Turner maintain Review for Religious that the defining element of many sisters' lives is no longer the vows, but rather witness. This suggests that for these women the concerns of the sisters whose perspective Carey shares are irrel-evant. And yet Quifionez and Turner also say, "For a large num-ber of the women, their shared life has to be linked to ultimacy, to the values of the gospel, to the deepest insights of religious tra-ditions" (Transformation, 166). Just how their lives can be "linked to ultimacy" is an ongoing question that must be addressed if there is to be a future for women's communities. It seems to me that addressing it will be difficult as long as the expression is as vague as that given here. I suspect that the word God is omitted because of the desire to be inclusive. To be sure, speaking of God is dangerous, and moreover help on the journey toward God can come from various traditions, including those that do not name God. But one must begin a journey from some point. Sandra Schneiders has pointed out the danger when communities that consider themselves religious have highly indi-vidualized, and eclectic spiritualities unconnected to the Christian tradition in which the communities are rooted. For such groups, she suggests, "the quiet sidelining of Christian .identity believed and practiced in the church is not compatible with their ongoing life and self-renewal as a religious congregation." 13 Over the centuries Christian women and men have sought to link their lives to ultimate, reality, which they have named God, by means of the vows. They have done this not only and, in my view, not primarily as a witness to others, but because God has somehow reached into their lives, and so, in being true to them-selves, they structure their lives around their relationship to God.14 Certainly there is need to reconceive and even reformu-late what is meant by the vows,15 but this must be done with recognition of their connection to the divine and hence of their significance beyond that of any actions .they imply. Vows of this kind must indeed be taken seriously. Surely there is a middle path between a spirituality that would have no relation to justice and a life that would collapse itself into work on behalf of justice. July-duffust 2000 Foley * Another Window on the Crisis Church Quifionez and Turner say, "Central to their quest for mean-ing, we believe, is the identity of sisters as church women" (Transeormation, 166). But, as Eucharia Malone RSM pointed out as early as 1970, "this relationship with the.church seems to be the point on which we are divided" (see Crisis, 95). In fact, the very definition of church is often at the heart of the polarization within and between women's communities. At first glance it is difficult to imagine a rapprochement between the understandings of church espoused by Carey and by Quifionez and Turner. Sisters in Crisis assumes a church in which the initiative comes from the hierarchy. As a result, Carey implies that sisters' meetings held in 1964-1965 to discuss strategies for renewal were subversive because Perfectae caritatis had not yet been promulgated formally)6 What could she have to say to those for whom church is a discipleship of equals, each of whom is responsible for initiating change? Many traditional as well as "change-oriented" groups have claimed to be following the teachings of Vatican II in their very different approaches to renewal. But the council documents them-selves represent compromises between bishops of various per-spectives. They are often ambiguous concerning the church and hence concerning the role of women's communities within the church. The situation is not unlike what followed in the wake of the last reforming council, the Council of Trent. Like Vatican II, Trent carried its own contradictions within itself,, including both a call for widespread education and an insistence on cloister for women ready to dedicate themselves to the education of young women. The conflicts, that resulted were virtually inevitable. Indeed, the experience of the post-Tridentine church calls into question any notion of reform as neat or uniform in application. In general, Carey fails to place the events she narrates within a larger historical context. She takes the American experience of religious life in the first half of.this century as normative and con-sequendy disparages many of the changes that have occurred since then. Research into the foundations of many communities before this century has revealed considerable struggle, especially with members of the hierarchy, over the very issues of ministry and conformity to monastic lifestyle that so concern Carey?7 Her lack of attention to the history of women's communities appears to be related to her sympathy with the representatives of the Consortium Perfectae Caritatis, who wanted discussion with LCWR officials Review for Religious to focus on "absolute truths that would transcend., any age, any period of time, any period of history" (Crisis, 283). Quifionez and Turner, on the other hand, are well aware of the various forms in which what is called "religious life" has mani-fested itself over the centuries, accurately noting that it is always a "historically conditioned" phenomenon.~s They are less attentive, however, to the values sought by sizable numbers of contemporary women and their foremother~. For genuine dialogue to take place, it might be necessary to declare a moratorium on valuing things either as "absolute" or as "historically conditioned." It could go far toward healing not only some of the divisions in women's com-munities, but also some of the woundedness of the larger church. Refounding In her concluding chapter Carey addresses herself to tradi-tional sisters who find themselves in communities that have moved away from what she considers the essence of religious life. She believes that such women may be called to "refound" their com-munities, and so offers a number of recommendations for how that might take place: "This refounding must be accomplished by the sisters within those institutes themselves, for refounding of religious orders cannot be mandated or directed by hierarchy, clergy, or laity, though legitimate refounding efforts should be supported by these other groups of people. In the refounding pro-cess, some members of a religious institute may come to the real-ization that their concept of consecrated life really does not fit the church understanding of a religious institute, and so those women may wish to pursue one of the other forms of consecrated life defined by the church" (Crisis, 328). Carey does not clarify why refounding a community "cannot be mandated or directed by the hierarchy" even though that is precisely what she believes its role should have been during the postconciliar renewal. Equally surprising is the open-ended pro-cess she describes, which it cannot be assumed will conform to the standard definition of a religious institute. Of course she assumes that, if what emerges does not fit that definition, the alter-native is another already defined form. In contrast, Vita consecrata, among other documents, assumes that forms not yet defined are also emerging at the present time.19 . In these comments Carey sketches out, no doubt unwittingly, j~uly-/lugust 2000 Fole~ ¯ Another l~ndow on the Crisis what many perceive to have been going on during all these years since the council: initiatives taken by those within the commu-nity, support for those initiatives from (some) other constituencies in the church, and ~n honest confrontation of the questions that traditional understandings of religious life bring to the fore. The element that Carey believes was missing in so many attempts at renewal is "legitimacy," which she understands to be close con-fortuity to the document "Essential Elements of Religious Life," issued by the Vatican Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes in 1983. Many "change-oriented" sisters and commu-nities consider that sense of legitimacy overly narrow, but in so doing they seem often to have acted as if all changes were equally legitimate. I believe that Carey and others have rightly criticized processes of experimentation that lacked mechanisms of evalua-tion. 2° Many are not fully satisfied with what has emerged in the. course of renewal, but are not sure how to name what is missing. Carey comments sharply on the failure of "change-oriented" communities to attract many new members. In her view, there are only two possible reasons for this, "unselfishness or pathological denial" of the imminent demise of their congregations, and she is quite sure that the latter interpretation is the accurate one. I think' these are false alternatives, though both no doubt play a role at times. A more significant factor in the decline in the number of women joining these communities seems to be a feeling of ambivalence, both among members of women's communities and in the church at large, ambivalence which results in part from massive change without evil-uation and consequently without general ownership. Carey, along with ~¢arious church officials, has declared the period of experimentation for women's communities to be over. But her proposal for refoundation suggests that a new, more pro-found kind of experimentation is just what is called for. The women who are coming to communities these days, particularly those young enough not to have lived through the years immedi-ately following the council, do not share the ambivalence of their older sisters. No doubt it is they who will lead the way in the founding and refounding still to come. Neither/Nor, Looking Anew, Nuancing In my opinion, the renewal of women's communities in the Catholic Church over the past forty years was not "co-opted" or Review for Religious "stolen" by their leaders, but neither has it been fully accom-plished. It is a work in progress, and in that work there has been considerable polarization between different approaches, and mutual recrimination as well. The challenge at this time may be to move beyond present viewpoints, to look through some other window onto those same issues and see a fuller truth. Those who wish to find such a window would do well to heed what Carey has written. Certainly Sisters in Crisis is flawed in its use of sources. Many are cited out of context, they are often listed without explanation or analysis, and generalizations are made on the basis of undisclosed and apparently meager evidence. But Carey's effort to speak in the nameof sisters whose views may have been ignored in the process of renewal provides a significant resource for those who are willing to look and listen. What has been said here about renewal within women's com-munities is true of the renewal of the whole church; in many ways it holds true as well for liberation movements within North America and across the planet. It is often asserted that communi-ties of men and women are called to take a prophetic stance. In my view, such an assertion requires careful nuancing. But, if sisters who represent different perspectives can learn to engage in gen-uine dialogue about their recent history and possible future direc-tions, I believe that could be prophetic indeed, not only for the church, but for all of humanity. Notes i Ann Carey, Sisters in Crisis: The Tragic Unraveling of Women's Religious Communities (Huntington, Indiana: Our Sunday Visitor Press, °1997). 2 The focus of my work is women's communities, and the sources for the present reflection deal specifically with women in the United States. Other groups, too, may find what I say relevant. 3 These are not my preferred terms, but since Carey uses them I will follow her lead. 4 Lora Ann Quifionez CDP and Mary Daniel Turner SNDdeN, The Tranyformation of American Catholic Sisters (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1992). s "Book rebukes renewal; nuns rebuke book," National Catholic Reporter, 23 May 1997, p. 6. 6 Former LCWR president Doris Gottemoeller RSM agrees, but she believes that Carey has not named the crisis adequately. See "Religious Life in Crisis," Origins, 25 February 1999, pp. 634-638. ~uly-August 2000 Foley ¯ Another Window on the Crisis 7 One modern source for the story is Roger Fisher, William Ury, and Bruce Patton, Getting to Yes: Negotiating Agreement without Giving In, 2nd ed. (New York: Penguin Books, 1991), p. 40. Walter Wink suggests that finding a third alternative in a situation that has reached an impasse is a gospel imperative. See his Engaging the Powers: Discernment and Resistance in a World of Domination (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1992). s Fowler suggests that the pattern of stages he describes remains valid regardless of the content of one's faith. It is rather a factor of one's cognitive and moral development,.although the circumstances in which one finds oneself tend to propel one toward a new stage. His theory is quite pragmatic: no stage is better than another; it simply may be more adequate to the realities one has to confront. 9 Note that one of these elements can be present without the other. Persons with an analytical bent can ana!yze the content of a faith that is not personally appropriated. Similarly, persons who tend to be inde-pendent may formally reject the faith of significant others before being able to give a reason for their own belief, other than the fact that it is their own. 10 This is not to say that more traditional communities have not made the same transition. I simply do not have enough evidence to make such a judgment. II She maintains that, when their constitutions were not approved, "many institutes simply played the game of prolonged 'dialogue' with Rome, hoping to win approval for practices that already had been in effect for years" (Crisis, 314). 12 Justice in the World, §6. 13 Sandra M. Schneiders IHM, "Congregational Leadership and Spirituality in the Postmodern Era," Review for Religious 57, no. 1 (January-February 1998): 26. ~4 I am indebted to Edward Vacek SJ in "Religious Life and the Eclipse of Love for God," Review for Religious 57, no. 2 (March-April 1998): 118-137, for his description of the vows as'structuring one's life around the relationship to God. ~s Barbara Fiand SND has articulated a theology of the vows in keep-ing with an e~;olutionary, nondualistic worldview. See her Living the I~uion: Religious Vows in an Age of Change (New York: Crossroad, 1990) and Wrestling with God: Religious Life in Search of Its Soul (New York: Crossroad, 1996). 16 See Crisis, pp. 110-111. 17 HWR News and Notes, published by the Conference on History of Women Religious (ed. Karen M. Kennelly csJ; Mount St. Mary's College; 12001 Chalon Road; Los Angeles, California 90049), tracks current scholarship in this area, much of which is presented at that orga-nization's triennial conferences. Both the enormous variety of expressions and the common themes Review for Religious manifest in that variety are very evident in Jo Ann Kay McNamara, Sisters in Arms: Catholic Nuns through Two Millennia (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1996). ,9 See ~ta consecrata, Origins 25, no. 41 (4 April 1996); also in The Church and Consecrated Life (St. Louis: Review for Religious, 1996), pp. 323-436; see esp. §§12 and 62. The latter section is explicit about the pos-sibility that new forms emerging today may come to be approved offi-cially at a later time. 20 For example, Gottemoeller, "Religious Life in Crisis" (see note 6), p. 635. At the LCWR assembly in August 1999, there were a number of calls for evaluation of the processes of renewal. Musings of the Prodigal's Brother Look at him! The life of the party. Music, fatted calf, ring- all to celebrate my brother's return from a wasted life. Squandered inheritance, prostitutes, and hunger shared with swine. Look at my lathe!! Joy-filled, radiant, his long-awaited prodigal is home. Unconditional, all-forgiving love Lighting up the room with warmth and joy, my father - our father - now at peace. Look at me! Lonely, jealous, bitter. The son who did not squander - but gave my father only loyal, total service, What's this? My envy giving way? My inner blindness praying, "Lord, that I may see"? Maria Corona Crumback IHM ffuly-August 2000 BERNADINE PIEPER A Path of Humility and Truth: Historical Reminiscence T~ay, thirty-five years after Vatican Council II, many people nk that the changes in religious life arose spontaneously, somewhat like Athena springing from the forehead of Zeus. In fact, the changes took place because of intense preparation. That preparation happened in the contexts of the general culture and the individual religious communities. My community, the Congregation of the Humility of Mary, was a small congregation of approximately 430 members, and so most sisters knew one another. The sisters came from a variety of ancestral ndtionalities: Irish, German, Czech, Italian, Mexican, and others. Many of the sisters had rural backgrounds, had the experience of living with Protestants as well as Catholics, and had attended both public and Catholic schools at all levels including university. The congregation had moved from France to Pennsylvania to Missouri to Iowa and had experienced losing the motherhouse in Ottumwa, Iowa, in a 1957 fire. They were pio-neers, risk takers. Further, a remarkable group of women made up the leadership of the Congregation of the Humility of Mary from 1960 to 1966. In November 1964 the general superior, Mother Mary Nicholas, and the general council called for a congregation-wide Bernadine Pieper CHM was elected general superior of her congre-gation in 1966, shortly after Vatican Council ii. She writes from her experience of the past forty years. Her address is Humility of Mary Center; 820 West Central Park Avenue; Davenport, Iowa 52804. Review for Religious vote on a revision of the delegate selection process for the 1966 general chapter of affairs. That same month she and the council ¯ asked every convent to discuss renewal of religious life with spe-cial applications to our congregation. Background material sent for the study included Vatican II's Constitution on the Liturgy, chapters 5 and 6 of the Constitution on the Church, Pope Paul's discourse of 23 May 1964 to all religious, the original 1858 rules and regulations of the Sisters of the Humility of Mary, and Father Bernard H~iring's Christian Renewal in a Changing World. The sis-ters were also asked to study related sections of Scrip~re. The virtues listed in our original constitutions were to be studied along with the congregation's apostolate. The sisters were asked whether " we were meeting the spiritual and religious needs of the people of our time in the localities where we were working. This was a time of excitement and ferment. Discussion of these topics provided an opportunity for departure from the rather superficial conversation typical of specified recreation times. A 22 February 1965 letter from Mother Mary Nicholas states that the objective of our study was profound renewal inspired.by bib-lical, liturgical, and apostolic documents of Vatican II and by wis-dom from the congregation's experience. She said some changes would be decided by the congregation itself while others must await legislation expected in the future. "We realize that renewal of religious life will not be easy," she said. From each of four geo-graphical areas (east Iowa and Illinois, midwest Iowa, southeast Iowa, and the west), she and the general council appointed the following committees: liturgy, common life and discipline, poverty, obedience, works and apostolate, and formation and maturity. Committee members included every sister in the community. After a year of discussion, each of these committees sent a posi-tion paper, including reports and recommendations, for study by the congregation. From October 1965 to May 1966, sisters prepared proposals to present to the 1966 chapter of affairs. A total of 545 proposals on a variety of topics were prepared by the sisters, both by indi-viduals and by committees and groups. The recommendations included practically every facet of the sisters' lives and customs: elections, prayer, charity, social work, spiritual renewal, revision of rule and directory, companionship, cloister, letter writing, use of gifts, permissions, and other more mundane items such as swim-ming, ceremonies, appointments, and speeds at which to drive. ~uly-August 2000 Pieper ¯ ~t Path of Humility and Truth There were few proposals about chastity and friendship, pos-sibly due to the fact that no study group was assigned to this topic. During the previous fifty years, obedience had assumed priority for religious life. Three sisters were appointed to organize the pro-posals for presentation to th6 chapter of affairs in a logical way. After attending a workshop for religious superiors at the University of Notre Dame, the local superiors of the congregation met in the summer of 1965 to look at common life. They recom-mended a variety of changes to Mother Superior and the council. Among the changes approved were: talking at breakfast, walking outdoors after 6 p.m., eating with guests, retiring early, noncen-sorship of mail, elimination of the chapter of faults, yearly general permissions, and going without a companion to medical appoint-ments. Previously three other sisters were involved when one went to the doctor: one as her companion at the doctor's and two oth-ers to drive them there and pick them up again. In 1965, upon the recommendation of the liturgy committee, sisters began to use the breviary for morning and night prayers. A workshop on guidelines for renewal was held in spring 1966 with the cooperation of the Canon Law Society of America and the approval Of Davenport Bishop Ralph L. Hayes. The speakers were Father Paul M. Boyle CP, past president of the Canon Law Society of America; Father Kevin O'Rourke OP, coauthor of Canon Law for Religious Women; Sister Jane Marie Richardson SL, secretary of Sister Mary Luke Tobin SL, auditor at Vatican II; Sister Ignace RSM, province councilor of the Mercy Sisters' Chicago Province; and Sister Maristella (Elizabeth) Picken CHM, member of the Marycrest College religion department. Davenport sisters had also traveled to Aurora, Illinois, that spring for a speech by Sister Mary Luke Tobin. The membership for the 1966 chapter of affairs was entirely different from that of earlier chapters, which had been composed of almost as many superiors as nonsuperiors. Besides the seven ex-officio members--major .superior, council, former major superi-ors, secretary, and treasurer--seven superiors were elected from among 38, nine sisters from among 88 more than 50 years old, ten sisters from among 90 between 35 and 50 years of age, and four from among the 80 sisters under 35. All these sisters had per-petual vows. Sisters with temporary vows had only active voice. During the chapter the delegates voted to abolish all secrecy. Chapter delegates represented a wide variety of sisters. There was for Rdigious a wide spectrum of emotion--fear and impatience on the one hand, hope and excitement on the other. Everyone, however, cared for the congregation and worked hard to follow the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. Relaxation of discipline and introduction of the breviary were not the only changes which took place before the 1966 chapter of affairs. The number of entrants into the congregation had already declined before 1966. The largest number of persons to enter the congregation came in 1959 and 1960:27 and 32 respec-tively. In 1965 only six women entered, and in the spring of 1966 only four had been accepted for entrance. Sisters were aware of and inter-ested in civil rights. Though no one went to Selma or other places in the South for demonstrations, they were deeply concerned and prayed particularly when Medgar Evers was killed. They also began to help with local problems. For example, some numbers went sandbagging along the Mississippi in Davenport during the 1965 flood. They tried to do this quietly; when a picture of the sisters appeared in the daily paper, not everyone in the CHM community was happy. Probably attitudinal changes were the most important. In the 1960s the culture implied that one was incomplete without a sex-ual partner. Vatican II taught that perfection was obtainable not just by sisters in community, but also by married persons. At Marycrest College, where over one-fourth of the CHM community studied during the summer, creative and critical thinking was a college goal. Sisters began to recognize that they were thinking creatively .and critically about everything exc.ept their own lives. They became aware that they had been founded as an apostolic community and were neither cloistered nor monastic, but had been trying to live as if they were. At the chapter of affairs, on 27 June 1966, I was elected the general superior. My experience as a superior was limited to sev-eral summers for the sisters who were students at Marycrest College. I had, however, taught a majority of members of the con-gregation. This was my first chapter of affairs. M6ther Mary In 1965, upon the recommendation of the liturgy committee, sisters began to use the breviary for morning and night prayers. Pieper ¯ A Path of Humility and Truth Nicholas Sheetz, who might have provided me some guidance, died in October 1966. Mother Mary Magdalen Wilmes, another potential source of information, asked to move to Phoenix. "You can make your own mistakes," she said. I retained the designation "Sister" and took the title president instead of mother superior, as have those who succeeded me. When Father Paul Boyle CP spoke at Marycrest College in April 1966, he assured the members of the committee which orga-nized the proposals that he would be happy to help at the chapter. He came to Ottumwa from Monroe, Michigan, and was invaluable in distinguishing among aspects of church law, community law, customs, and culture. He advised us tobegin with a discussion on prayer because that was the most important topic and further-more was likely to be less controversial than the others. After considerable discussion and revision at the regular June session and a short one in December 1966, about sixty motions were approved by the delegates, either unanimously or at least 10 to 1 in favor. Mass, lauds, vespers, and an annual retreat were the only requirements regarding prayer. However, the value of prayer was endorsed, and continuing past practices was recommended. In the area of poverty, the sisters were asked to be as poor as they wished and to provide community witness to poverty by sharing things. Minor finances were to be a subject for experimentation. Each sister was to be given $15 a month for clothes and personal needs, while housing, .meals, and travel were to be provided by the local house. One sister commented that her girdle alone cost $13. Investigating congregational health insurance was approved. Home visits, travel without companions, retention of baptismal names for those who so wished, eating with persons other than commu-nity members, and letters and phone calls without censorship were approved. Broadening our apostolic works was recommended, with particular emphasis on Latin America. The value of long-range planning was noted. The following commissions were described and set up in great detaili (1) the coordinating commission on apostolic works, with subcommittees in the various areas of work; (2) rule and directory revision; (3) formation and religious renewal; (4) finance and development; and (5) habit revision. The sisters were asked to participate in annual meetings of the whole con-gregation. No time limit for experimenting was set because Pe, rfectae caritatis allowed twelve years. Review for Religious In the letter I wrote to the congregation accompanying the record of the June 1966 chapter, I said: "Many of you have prob-ably read Michael Novak's 'The New Nun' in the July Post, in which he says, 'Press reports emphasize the shortened skirts, the briefer veils, the appearance of nuns on public beaches, but these are misleading superficial aspects of a deep-running revolution. In ever increasing numbers the sisters are creating new rules to define what tasks they may or may not tackle, what styles of life they may or may not adopt.'" Change in clothes was symbolic and probably the change most criticized by the sisters' publics. The original intent was to design and adopt a simple costume with a modified veil. The process, however, led to diversity. Sisters sent requests to the coordinating commission on habit revision, with the final decision to be made by the general superior and council. At first the sisters were expected to wear a veil and white, gray, black, brown, or blue clothing. Many sisters quickly adapted to the change, Next came . requests and permission to wear red and green and finally flowered blouses. Just before the 1967 summer school, the gen-eral council decided to allow sisters to go without veils, having noticed that sisters in some communities who were still asked to wear the traditional habit were surreptitiously wearing street clothes when they were ¯ away from the convent. We felt that honesty was the better policy. At first clothes were usually made out of habits and cloaks and often were ill fitting and not very well designed. Generally sisters wore blouses, skirts, and suits. Some sisters reverted to the hairstyles of their teen years; some bought wigs. Fairly soon, though, the sisters emerged as attractive women rather than neuter icons, and sometimes this incited the envy of other women. For example, one sister found a suitable coat with a small fur collar in the poor box for the parish. She was criti-cized by some parishioners as being too extravagant in clothes. The change to contemporary clothes, the sisters thought, necessitated some means for identification. For a while each sis-ter had a name tag; then we adopted a design for a medal. It is still being used. Change in clothes was symbolic and probably the change most criticized by the sisters' publics. July-August 2000 Pieper ¯ A Path of Humility and Truth This was a time of energetic hope and gloomy predictions as well. One priest "expert" predicted that within five years the con-gregation would be extinct. Before 1966 the vow of poverty implied permission for the use of material things. After the 1966 chapter, the meaning of being po.or as one wished and sharing material things was open to interpretation. General congregational'needs included care of retired sisters, administration, and the retirement of a debt on the motherhouse. Up to this time, each house had sent as much as possible to the motherhouse. In fact, sometimes superiors vied with one other to see how much could be sent, even at the expense of local needs. As sisters began to live outside established con-vents, the question arose about ensuring a balance of individual and congregational needs. Since CHM local houses had sent to the congregational fund the amount each determined, it seemed logical to continue this process. Hence, each sister was asked to deduct from her income what was needed for her individual or house costs and send the rest to the motherhouse. Little by little most of the sisters began to contribute as much as they could to the congregation's fund. Diocesan stipends were entirely too low. In the Des Moines Diocese the stipend set for each sister was $50-$100 monthly. In the city of Des Moines, all except one parish paid $50 per month per sister. I had to go to bishops and pastors to ask for an increase in the stipend. Frequently I was told that, if the sisters went back to their habits, they could get along on $50 a month! I prepared and distributed a budget so that the sisters could be informed about real congregational needs. Funds for retreats and education were budgeted. A study was made of average expenses for an indi-vidual. Many sisters responded favorably when they were informed about the needs, both for the congregation itself and for works to assist the poor. To free active sisters from increasing costs for sisters already in retirement, we enrolled in the social security program in 1972 when it became available for sisters. Using unclaimed interest on patrimony, we set up the CHM retirement trust in 1976. Until the summer of 1966, health expenses were cared for gratis by several related hospitals. One of these began charging the sisters for services. Then we initiated a health-insurance plan. Each sister in the congregation was asked to have an annual phys-ical examination. Revie~ for Religio~ The commission on rule revision met almost immediately after the 1966 chapter. Unable to decide what to call the first product of their efforts, it settled on "Spirit and Goals" until a better name could be found. After considerable discussion a state-ment of about a page and a half was sent to all the sisters for study and recommendation. After several revisions, a statement of spirit and goals was approved by a vote of the sisters in August 1968. The statement began, "We Sisters of the Humility of Mary are a group of women in the Catholic Church who have banded together to dedicate ourselves through a special common effort to the pur-suit of life's essential meaning and to a radical response to the Christian gospel of universal love." The Spirit and Goals document was intended as a basic state-ment explaining our spirit and the meaning of religious life for the Sisters of the Humility of Mary. The remainder of the rule was intended to be directives approved by succeeding chapters of affairs. After some years, and after the rules and regulations had been arranged according to topics and divided into Books I and II, the CHM president and I presented the document to the English-speaking committee of the Sacred Congregation for Religious (SCRIS) in Rome in 1982. The committee, finding several sections unacceptable, told us to make mandated changes and resubmit the document. Since the total congregation had already approved the 1982 document, it was necessary that they subsequently vote on SCRIS's mandates. This CHM approval was not forthcoming, so for seven years the congregation followed Books I and II without papal approval. In 1988 a new rule-revision committee attempted to integrate the directives of SCRIS, now called the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL) in such a way that our identity would not be compromised. We con-sulted a canon lawyer working in the English-language depart-ment of CICLSAL. Her suggestions included moving as many items as possible to Book II, which did not require canonical approval. The main objection of CICLSAL had been our election process. After numerous revisions we were able to present the document to the CHM general assembly in the summer of 1990. It was approved by the Representative Assembly in that year and sent to Rome requesting the approval date of December 8. We distributed approved copies to the congregation in the summer of 1991. We are still probing self-determination versus community focus. ~uly-August 2000 Pieper ¯ A Path of Humility and Truth That sisters could choose their work had both positive and negative results. By 1968 we were sending openings for available positions to community members. That sisters could choose their work had both positive and negative results. Some felt insecure in having to find their own positions. Sisters who were not good teachers or who had no interest in teaching were able to go to school and train for and find occupations more in keeping with their talents. Justice was adopted as the congregation's priority. More sisters began working directly with the dispossessed, and the congregation supported their efforts. After the recommendation of Pope Paul VI encouraging American religious to go to Latin America, Father Louis Colonnese, director of PAVLA (Papal Volunteers for Latin America), rec-ommended about half a dozen places to the sis-ters. All of these were dioceses where the bishop had a pastoral plan to follow the spirit of Vatican II. Several of us went to visit Bishop Samuel Ruiz Garcia of the San Crist6bal de las Casas diocese in southern Mexico. He took us over mountains to see places where sisters had been working to show us what had been done and what the pos-sibilities were. We were so impressed that we decided not to look further, but rather to use for the program in Chiapas the money we might have spent on airplane fare to other potential sites. We were urged to send sisters also to Ambato, Ecuador. Four si~ters went to these two missions; two are still in the San Crist6bal diocese. Although the commission on formation devised an extensive plan for formation, very few women applied. Furthermore, a :great many, particularly among those who were in temporary vows, left the congregation. Perhaps they were still in the process of being integrated in the congregation in a pre-Vatican II mode. Of the many reasons for the mass exodus from religious communities, I think a good many were cultural. Quite a few young women said that, if they could be as holy living as married women with chil-dren as they could as celibates in community, there was no reason to remain as sisters. The sexual revolution implied that one could not be a whole person without genital experiences. Some sisters, particularly those working directly with the poor, found that their primary community was one, other than the ClaMs. Some who left were those who had been dissatisfied for years. On the other hand, Review for Religious some were sisters who had worked most diligently and effectively for the changes. Some were unable to identify with a patriarchal church. Without a doubt all of us made mistakes. It might have been better to have informed our public about proposed changes, but we were intent on our internal study. In any case, I doubt if the pub-lic would have approved of the changes if we had asked them beforehand. The Sisters of the Humility of Mary moved some-what faster than other communities at this time of. change. As I watched communities that made the changes later, I used to think that I could be a consultant, telling them what to avoid. However, all of us had to learn from our own mistakes even though many of them were similar. Not everyone was mature enough to take per-sonal responsibility. The changes in discipline, clothes, works, and so on were only the expressions of a hope for the inner renewal of each sister and of the entire congregation. Celibacy in community has replaced obedience as the defining vow for sisters. Since the early 1970s, associates have expanded the search and service aspects of com-munity. Among the sisters, responsibility for private prayer some-times meant temporary abandonment of prayer altogether. Inner renewal is difficult to assess and is known only to God and the sister. Bishops witl~ whom CHMs worked were supportive during this time. One said that he did not understand everything that we did, but trusted us. On one occasion he commented, "I would never presume to tell a woman what to wear." Today we are an older and wiser congregation. The renewal set in motion in the 1960s has, I think, resulted in return to the spirit of our founders and a steady love for God, people, and the universe. Father Richard Hill 'SJ died on 29 January 2000 in the Jesuit infirfna~ at,Los' Gatos,~ Cahfornia: " 'Fathei" ~li ~sed~tor for c~nonical ~ounsel from Janua~ 1985 to July.19~)0. ~ : Let us remember him in burp~ay~ers~ July-August 2000 w. HENRY KEN-NEY Finding God's Willm A Maneuver finding God My title, "Finding God's Will," purposely suggests a prior search. In an age when some prefer to think of God as havin~ no specific will for individuals, but only a general wish for us to use our freedom well, the whole concept of seeking and finding God's will seems out of place. But I do not think it is. The theological assumptions behind searching for and finding God's will are, I believe, not of this age. They have appeared in the spirituality of countless saints, and espe-cially in those who lived in the last four or five hundred years. My large debt to an acknowledged master of search-ing for and finding God's will, St. Ignatius of Loyola, I gladly own. I am also quite indebted to dozens of pray-ers (my preferred term for directees) whom I have accom-panied on many a search and in many a finding. So my basic assumption is: God has a specific will which can be searched for and found--in large, medium, and lesser matters. A very good case, I believe, can be made that this is the prevailing assumption of the Bible and that it shines forth especially in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. For instance, along with many scripture scholars, I see Jesus' desert temptations as part W. Henry Kenney SJ, founder of the Bluegrass Spirituality Center in Lexington, Kentucky, is now a free-lance "prayer coach." His address is 153 Barr Street; Lexington, Kentucky 40507. Review for Religious of his search for the Father's will on how to undertake and exer-cise his public ministry. Near the end of his life, we see Jesus in Gethsemane struggling to get beyond his aversion to an igno-minious death ~and coming finally to embrace his Father's will peacefully and courageously. Presuppositions for Fruitful Searching My first presupposition is that searching for and finding God's will is a gift, and God's best gifts most often come in answer to persistent prayer. Hence, the guiding light for a searcher is: Beg, beg, beg. That repeats in short compass the longest teaching of Jesus on prayer: keep on knocking, seeking, begging for God to reveal their (Father, Son, and Spirit) will (Lk 11:1-13). For those who are settled into a significant prayer life, recipients of one of its gifts--a strong desire to know God's will--persistent begging for the revelation of God's will strikes them as quite right. To be given the knowledge of God's will and the courage and joy to do it is perceived by such pray-ers as a most precious gift coming from God's Spirit, the gift. Happy are they who experience their begging turned into receiving--the knowledge and love of God's s, pecific will for them. The second presupposition is that the principal impediment to finding God's will is my own will, often enough so attached to X or so averted from Y that it is very difficult or nearly impossi-ble for Y to be revealed as God's will. Spirituality writers used to call that state "attachment" or "lack of indifference." Currently that state is described as insufficient openness to God's will or lack of spiritual freedom. If I am mildly or strongly attached to getting married or averse to becoming a priest or religious, it is more difficult for me to recognize that God's wisdom and plea-sure are calling me to the priesthood or religious life. When there is very strong aversion or attachment, it is nearly impossi-ble to know and accept God's willing the opposite of our own wills. Let us state this positively. A necessary condition for our finding God's will is our possession of indifference, detachment, real openness to God's will--spiritual freedom. St. Ignatius of Loyola's Spiritual Exercises (§157) supplies a soul-testing remedy for such "inordinate attachments": When we feel an attachment opposed to X [Ignatius instances actual poverty] . it will be very helpful in order ~ly-.4ug~st 2000 Kenney ¯ Finding God's Will to overcome the inordinate attachment, even though cor-rupt na(ure rebel against it, to beg our Lord. to choose us to serve him in X. We should insist that we desire it, we should beg for it, plead for it, provided, of course, that it be for the service and praise of the Divine Goodness. (Puhl translation) With some discomfort I own that I have seldom suggested that a praying person follow §157's recommendation. However, from directing pray-ers (and from my own seeking of God's will) I have happened on to a maneuver that achieves, almost by indirection, what §157 seeks straight on. The third (and, for some, shocking) presupposition is this: God's will is usually revealed not by words or images, but by feel-ings: feelings of peace, of increased or continuing peace (called consolation), or feelings of diminished peace, of distancing (called desolation). Novice pray-ers have usually not had enough prayer and life experience of consolation and desolation for those feel-ings to be without the assistance of a spiritual guide--true instru-ments for revealing God's will to themselves. Conditions for Finding and Choosing God's Will Here are four necessary conditions for finding God's will: The first is spiritual freedom or openness. Being reasonably "at balance" is necessary for being really open to God's alternatives. How cru-cial this is can be seen in Ignatius's Exercises, in the extensive instructions and reflections given to help a praying person come to a reasonable level of spiritual freedom. The second is homework. Suffic-ient investigation of the par-ticulars of the available options (who, what, where, when, for how long, at what cost, and so forth) is absolutely necessary. Some per-sonality types want to rush into choosing before they have done their homework, or done it well enough. Pray-ers will often have discerned, in the first place, whether to commit themselves to an in-depth investigation of the alternatives, that is, the pros and cons of each. The third is kairos. There is a kairos, an appropriate time, for the discerning process. Some times are inappropriate, for example, wanting to know if I should accept a job offer before I am offered the job. That is clearly quite different from discerning on whether I should commit myself to investigate some job possibilities or to Review for Religious make some applications. Further, for those given .to control, there is often the temptation to discern alternatives--to have closure-- long before there is reasonable need for a decision. A help in the searching process is to fix the actual date wl~en a decision is needed. Then the discerner can assign a reasonable number of days for discernment before the due date. The fourth is a discernment companion. If a pray-er is leaning to one alternative and strongly dislikes the other, the aid of a dis-cernment companion is usually essential. The companion can help the praying persons to follow the process correcdy and thereby get beyond their subjectivity. Novice discerners with strong attach-ments are astonishingly adept at fouling up the discernment pro-cess. A person who read this article in manuscript form was dumbfounded to find in it a finger pointing out an inclination to subvert true discernment of a touchy personal decision. Even mature pray-ers, at least in their earlier searchings for God's will, usually have need of human help to discern and interpret patterns of consolation or desolation in response to their continued search-ing for the Lord's will. There would, then, be great risk if non-pray- ers or novice pray-ers attempted such formal discernment without a discernment companion, and even greater risk in the maneuver suggested below. The~, would too likely get into magic, divination, or self-deception. A ManeuvermOne Way of Searching for God's Will Central to the maneuver is repeatedly asking a loaded question of the Lord in the middle of prayer. I call it "popping the ques-tion." Unfortunately, there are several gloriously wrgng ways of popping the question. First is popping an unloaded question, such as, "Lord, do you want me to marry Susie?" That sounds quite sensible. What is so unproductive about this Way of phrasing the question is that it demands a vocal answer: "Yes" or "No." The Lord, however, is not in the habit of giving such answers. Not a few pray-ers continue to be scandalized that the Lord's preferred way of communicating "answers" to us is through our emotions, through consolations and desolations. A second wrong way of popping the question is to pop a ques-tion that is loaded towards the alternative the pray-er wants. This, unsurprisingly, greatly muddies the spiritual waters; self-gener-ated "peace" tends to obscure any subtle message from God. If I j~ly-August 2000 Kenney ¯ Finding God's Will greatly desire quitting my job and I keep asking, ".Lord, you want me to quit my job, don't you?" my strong emotional bias will give me so much'comfort that a contrary response from the Lord will likely be blocked out. Third, pray-ers will often fudge the process by alternately popping questions loaded against and loaded for themselves. Once again, muddied waters will result. A right way to phrase discernment questions is to use a loaded question consistently, a question loaded against my inclination or aversion and thereby loaded in God's favor. For a young or not-so-young woman attached to her single lifestyle, the loaded phras-ing of "Lord, you want me to marry Stan, don't you?" will cause disturbance, negative feelings, the first several times she pops it. These initial affective responses will likely prove untypical of responses later on, but she needs to experience them now. I say this because I have quite often seen sincere discerners surrepti-tiously (without knowing it themselves!) try to bypass such dis-comfort and get approval of the alternative they want either by asking an unloaded question or by unconsciously switching to the loaded question that favors their own present inclination: "Lord, you don't want me to marry Stan, do you?" Pray-ers that "lean" toward a preference of theirs need to be assured more than once that it is just as easy for the Lord to "answer" no to a loaded question as to answeryes. Understandably, many "leaning" pray-ersfeel that the question is too loaded against themselves for the Lord to be able to say no. In phi'asing discern-ment questions, it has gradually and experientially ~ome clear to me that it is much better to formulate the questions positively. For example, if a pray-er pops "Lord, you don't want me accept this job offer, do you?" the negative tends to muddy the process. The right-ness of the positively phrased question, "Lord, you want me to con-tinue in my present job, don't you?" can be sensed by pray-ers who lean toward accepting a new job. They experience more dis-comfort with positive questions than with negative ones. When to pop? I ask discernment questions of the Lord only, only, only when I am prayerful, that is, when I am at peace and have some sense of being with the Lord. Never do I ask when I am even a little unpeaceful or lack some real sense of being with the Lord. Praying persons, indeed, are frequently tempted to do this. If they yield, it is like asking the wall and expecting a revela-tory response within themselves as a reaction to the wall's action! Review for Religious When one is consciously with the Lord, whether in formal prayer or at'liturgy or at another time, a question should usually be popped only once. Popping the same question several times in the same ,prayer experience usually comes from a control drive that tends to commandeer the discernment process. How to pop? When I am in the middle of being connected with the Lord, I pop the question, as it were, eyeball to eyeball. Then I wait a short time, seconds. If I wait longer, I am trying to manipulate the Lord or influence my reactions. After popping I need to notice what happened to my con-nectedness and consolation. Did it remain the same? Did it increase? Was it subtly modified? Often pray-ers say "Nothing happened" after they popped the question. My response is "Something always hap-pens!" If my connectedness and peace remain the same, that is a very revealing, though low-key, response. Hence we need to keep a record of our post-popping reactions so that we may discover a pattern. How often to pop? For a small matter, once usually suffices if there has been a clear enough affective response. For larger mat-ters-- a new job, undertaking a volunteer project or pulling back from one--five, ten, or a dozen times usually give a clear picture. Very large questions--marriage, religiou~ life, another child, major change in employment or lifestyle--may need months of discern-ing. What is always being sought is a clear pattern of responses from multiple poppings. Confirmation. When repeated poppings have yielded a pat-tern that tells us we very probably know God's will in a large or very large matter, it is good to supplement the discernment with a further process that may increase and strengthen our careful cer-tainty. Regarding marriage, the confirming question (in full detail, useful for the first popping) could well be "Lord, I think you have revealed to me that you want me to marry Stan. That is your will, isn't it?" Interpreting patterns. If pray-ers' first discernment efforts involve large or very large issues, I usually say nothing beforehand about htw to interpret their experience. Rather, I tell them they should pop the question "about X times," note carefully what hap- I ask discernment questions of the Lord only, only, only when I am prayerful. July-August 2000 Kenney ¯ Finding God's Will pens to their state of peace while and after popping, and record the experience of each discernment. At our next meeting we look at and interpret the responses together. The interpretation is very simple: The experience of consola-tion confirms the loaded question, whereas a lesser peacefulness or a diminished sense of being with the Lord negates the loaded ques-tion. In the example "Lord, you want me to marry Stan, don't you?" the results of the maneuver may be "muddied" by several years of attachment to a single lifestyle. The first few poppings will probably bring feelings of desolation, coming from pain at the thought of possibly losing certain blessings of the single life. But it is the pattern'of consolations or desolations, derived from many spiritual experiences, that reveals whether the alternative is in harmony or not with God's wisdom and love, and with what is deepest in herself as well. It is worth adding that in using the maneuver people may often experience desolation in new ways. They may sense a sud-den loss of contact with the Lord--no more disturbing than the quiet loss of a telephone connection during a conversation. Or they may sense the onset of a "vacuum" feeling, a severe feeling of emptiness, immediately after popping the question. Such feel-ings are often quite subtle, but are clear instances of desolation nonetheless. Sundry Choices Made by Means of the Maneuver Somehow it seems more appropriate to place this section at the end rather than near the beginning. My hope is that it will give some feel for the variety of discernments. I give some instances of choices that go ~ith the chooser's natural preference as well as againstdt. Understandably, I fictionalize to protect confidential-ity, but give enough details to suggest a "feel" for the shape of dis-cerned choices. First, four examples of big choices: a woman in her thirties who had enjoyed an active lifestyle met a man whom she feared God might want her tO marry and thus have her lifestyle signifi-cantly altered. Hers was a long discernment, spread over a num-ber of months, and she gradually became more open to marriage, especially through the use of "Lord, you want me to marry Stan, don't you?" Postwedding life has proved the fittingness of her def-initely not easy choice. There is a greatly loved child, and she Review for Religious found herself saying, "It's clear to me that I'm growing up now." A man in his early forties, increasingly uncomfortable with his military-connected job, sought first to know if God wanted him to give up his job and seek training and employment in some-thing more oriented towards human service. It was difficult to consider giving up a well-paying job without knowing what the next, step would be. His discernment was eased by his having a substantial amount of savings. In his case the discernment of per-haps five or six months gave him the certainty (and courage) to quit his job. This led to discernment about further education and eventually to a people-centered ministry. A young woman, thirty-two, who came with a strong prayer life and dedication to helping the poor, was not charmed when I asked if she had thought about religious life. "I want to get married and have children." "What if God wants you in religious life?" was a question she did not enjoy. In some-thing like a month of using the loaded ques-tion "Lord, you want me to be a religious, don't you?" she came to much more spiritual freedom for either marriage or religious life. She found herself eager to know God's will clearly, whatever it might be. That desire was fulfilled in another month and a half by a definite vocation to a missionary order. A woman in her forties taught'alternativ~ high school (possi-bly a universal euphemism for teaching students less than sixteen and expelled from regular schools). She heard of the possibility of becoming chief financial officer for a large God's Pantry opera-tion; she was both very qualified and very attracted. When, how-ever, she frequently asking loaded questions about whether God wanted her to continue in her present job, she came up with no clear sense of direction. Then, almost immediately after she was actually offered the CFO job, her prayer was filled with clarity that God wanted her to continue teaching "alternatives"--the very drift of her original popped question. Next are two examples of "medium" choices, but I flinch at such labeling because often the consequences are major. Probably the saddest accompanying I have done was with a man in his for-ties who was in a cult-like abusive relationship. In a discernment "What if God wants you in religious life?" was a question she did not enjoy. .~uly-Aug~st 2000 Kenn~y ¯ Findin~ God's W~ll which was long enough and clear enough, the answer was yes to "You want me to give up my relationship with X, don't you?" The sadness is that the relationship continued with great harm to him-self and to his family. Though I tried to persuade him to get coun-seling, the abuser convinced him that that counselors do the work of the devil. A man in his early fifties is a first-rate high school teacher. He got the idea that it would be good to get a Ph.D., but dis-cernment dictated otherwise. He continued happily and effectively teaching for several years. Because he is very gifted, he was asked to do all sorts of things at school, at church, and elsewhere. Before using formal discernment he was seriously fatiguing himself by undertaking too many projects. He began using a discernment notebook. When asked to do something, he noted it, carefully constructed a question for popping, used it in prayer,and logged the '~results." He says. no a lot more now, and notes the absence of fatigue. Out of the blue a department chair at the university asked him to supervise graduate students doing their summertime practice teaching. Not only did his discernment yield a clear "No," but also an unusual pair of words, "You're enough"--exactly what he needed to hear. He has no need for other and ever new achieve-meats to prove and feel his self-worth. Other Ways of Discernment The maneuver suggested here is one good way of seeking and finding God's will. There are many other ways. Experimentation vs. popping. In several areas of our lives where the prayer discernment process proposed here is not appro-priate, experimentation is a privileged way of finding God's will. It can be used for how long to pray, where and when to pray, what type of prayer is best for one's "daily diet," how much sleep, exer-cise, food, and drink to get, and so forth. Experimentation is not trying X one day, Y another, and Z on the third. Rather, it is try-ing one way five to seven times, then trying another way five to seven times, and afterwards reflecting on our experiences, espe-cially on the quality of our lives during the alternative experi-ments. St. Ignatius Loyola observes: "Now since God our Lord knows our [individual] nature infinitely better [than we do], when we make changes of this kind, [God] often grants each one the grace to understand what is suitable for [us]" (SpEx §89). Review for Religious There is another way that God answers sincere prayer--and, here, prayer to know God's will. My sister, her husband afflicted with Alzheimer's, knew they had to move into some form of assisted living because her heart condition was making her ever less able to care for him. She was more inclined to get care eight hours per day rather than 24-hour care--too pricey, she thought. Her earnest prayer that God reveal Their will was strikingly answered. The next two nights her husband had diarrhea and did not know what the toilet was for. Clearly, day care would not suffice. Another way of discernment is, I think, proposed by St. Ignatius, but unfortunately I cannot document this. This way involves offering the Lord different options as one would present different dishes to an honored guest, waiting to see which' he prefers. I mention, too, the experience of a Baptist minister who, faced with significant choices, would open his Bible to random passages and find in them helpful suggestions towards a particular course of action. He would say, "The Scripture came and grasped me." Summing Up First, the maneuver suggested here for finding God's will in larger and medium discernments centers on popping loaded ques-tions to God in prayer and noticing the pattern of desolations or consolations. By examining the patterns, the pray-er comes to suf-ficient certainty (especially if there is a confirmation process) that God's will has been found. This maneuver has been instrumental for scores of pray-ers in finding the peace of certainty about God's will for themselves even, sometimes, in small matters. The out-comes of decisions arrived at in this manner have been uniformly good (with one exception), and pray-ers have continued secure in their discernments, free from attacks by second thoughts. For persons who approached a decision leaning somewhat or strongly to one alternative, an unplanned and unexpected result of using the maneuver is that repeated poppings of a question loaded against their inclinations brought them--gradually, but more rapidly than I had dared hope--to equanimity about, or even real openness, to the unwanted alternative. With only one excep-tion, those who were led to "tough love" decisions were able to embrace them peacefully and live them energetically. Those who were led by the right use of the maneuver to embrace alternatives July-August 2000 L3-77-- Kenney ¯ Finding God's Will in accord with their initial preferences enioyed the special conso-lation, of knowing they had sought and found not merely their own will, but also God's. Magnificat I want to thank with all my heart the unknown man who, this summer, hacked back and burned the briars and unruly gorse which had covered that singing stream between Boolagh Bog and Bockagh Hill. And I will, because now eye can feast on the smooth black tables of rock down which clear brown water tumbles and bubbles and makes white foam. Ear had always heard the choir under the gorse-and-briar canopy. Body had always sat or stood there, soothed by sound. Now eye and ear heart and bone and soul and tumbling stream are humming their Magn~'cat in unison. Bernadette McCarrick RSM Review for Religious HILARY OTTENSMEYER Consulting Your Inner Wisdom Mnuch of our United States consumer-society mentality vades our quest for spiritual growth. We snatch up the latest acclaimed spiritual authors. We dash off to the latest popu-lar workshops. We try to take in more and more. The effort is laudable, for there is this hunger within us to know more about God's plan for us and to draw nearer to Jesus. All the restless searching, however, ignores the treasure that lies right at our feet. We look everywhere, but we do not see it. As Meister Eckhart wisely put it, "all people have a vintage wine cellar, but they sel-dom drink from it." What I propose here is a stop to all this chas-ing about and an invitation to look into ourselves at the inner wisdom that is already ours. We have access to it. Where the Treasure Lies Have you .ever noticed how easily we slip into states of total absorption, into trancelike states? I imply nothing "spooky" here. This is simply the way our minds work on certain tasks. In that state of absorption, of inner searching, we step out of time, away from the settings around us. We become so focused on a single idea that no other thought, no other emotion, intrudes. People who use their mind in this way experience vivid imagery and feel overall such bodily responses as muscle tension and sometimes Hilary Ottensmeyer OSB last wrote for us in our January-February 1997 issue. His address remains 1414 Southern Avenue; Beech Grove, Indiana 46107. July-August 2000 Ottensmeyer ¯ Consulting Your Inner Wisdom heightened blood pressure. Common occurrences: driving right past your own home, not hearing what people say and asking them to repeat, and not noticing that the phone is ringing insis-tently. Sometimes, by single-minded concentration on a prob-lem, we may come up with a "Eureka!" experience and have a solution. Most of the time, however, I suspect we choose this kind of intensive focus when someone's word or action has wounded us, and we retreat inwardly to chew on the bitter rind of our hurt pride. My suggestion here is that the mind's same powerful ability to focus, its intensity and bright-point targeting, can be used voluntarily in prayer--only this time the focus is on the inner wisdom we all possess through the grace of baptism and indeed all the sacraments and through our enriching experiences of striv-ing to be faithful followers of Jesus and reflective readers of the Gospels. In this way of prayer, we ask the Spirit of Jesus to guide and enlighten us. When we Christians go into the center of our minds and hearts, it is the indwelling Spirit who greets us there. There we hear the echoes of the voice of Jesus and of all the good people who have been examples of faith and good conduct for us. That central core of ourselves is the inner wisdom of which I speak. It is there, and it is available. But let me make a few distinctions. Some Clarifications I am not referring here to centering prayer or at least to what I understand by centering prayer. To quote Father Thomas Keating in his excellent book Open Mind, Open Heart: "A thought in the context of [centering prayer] is any perception that appears on the inner screen of consciousness. This could be an emotion, an image, a memory, a plan, a noise from outside, a feeling of peace, or even a spiritual communication. In other words, anything what-soever that registers on the inner screen of consciousness is a 'thought.' The method consists of letting go. of every thought dur-ing the time of prayer, even the most devout thoughts." ~ What I am referring to here about consulting your inner wisdom probably comes close to what Keating refers to, and dis-misses, as self reflection?. This, Keating says, is to be got over in order to reach pure cont.emplation. My own proposal is a delib-eratefocusing of thought as if one were using a magnifying glass to Review for Religious ' direct the beams of the sun to one spot. Such a tactic could pen-etrate steel. The discipline I propose is not behavior modification. That highly effective psychological tactic involves visioning an unde-sirable behavior of mine, such as becoming angry with the choir habits of a fellow religious, and then seeing myself calmly allow that person to do his or her own thing without my usual emo-tional upset. Consulting our inner wisdom means having in mind a specific goal (more on this later), then cleansing our mind of external dis-tractions by some relaxation exercise, and, in that calm and focused meditative state, inviting the Lord (or some other spiritual counselor) to help us understand and move towards atti-tudes and behaviors more consonant Jesus, unlike ourselves, with the obedient love with which a allowed himself to Christian wants to identify. This differ-entiates consulting our inner wisdom be angry only.when from simple behavior modification because it sees the change in ourselves the Father's honor and as inspired by the example of Jesus and glory were attacked. not simply as a personal social or emo-tional adjustment, helpful though that might be. Take, for instance, the ques-tion of boundaries. We are all aware how careful we are to pro-tect the spiritual frontiers of our Christan, Jesus-inspired integrity. Anger, rooted in pride, is one such protection effort. Jesus, however, unlike ourselves, allowed himself to be angry only when the Father's honor and glory were attacked. See, for example, the cleansing of the temple or the "woes" in Matthew's Gospel. At all other times, personal attacks did not seem to move him emotionally. When we honestly consult our inner wisdom, we may note boundaries of ours that we fail to protect enough. We may fail to caution ourselves regarding the sight or memory of a sexually attractive person. We may carelessly allow ourselves to recollect wounding words or actions that, even years later, cause us to tighten our fists or clench our jaws. Reflecting upon our inner wisdom, we can suspect or see the dangers of these reactions and thereby find ourselves protected against deep tenacities and inva-sive roots. "When you bury hate in your heart, you bury it alive" is a piece of liberating wisdom worth remembering. ~,~-~-~L~ ~ July-August 2000 Ottensmeyer ¯ Consulting Your Inner Wisdom Some Helpful Preliminary Disdplines Any relaxation exercise that suits our personality may be used to induce a meditative state. Relaxing the muscles from the head on down throughout the body is a common practice. The point is to pull the mind away from the leaping about that characterizes our ordinary mental activity. As one Eastern mystic put it, "the mind is like a tree full of chattering monkeys." Another approach, count-ing backward from thirty, demands just enough concentration to clear the mind of other thoughts. Paying attention to your breath-ing also slows down the inner agitation. The current enthusiastic practice of walking a labyrinth serves the same purpose--certainly this was the reason why many European cathedrals have a labyrinth carved in the floor near the entrance. Working through a series of yoga exercises, too, or focusing on a mantra helps some achieve the same end. Before entering into such a disciplinary exercise, it is impor-tant to have a goal in mind: "Jesus, I want to go into the place where you live in me, sit with you there, and talk about this com-pulsion to anger, to judgment, that spurts up so frequently, so involuntarily within me. Open to me your way of living with anger, for you felt it too. Help me draw on the many times I have given in, and the times I have restrained myself and 'stuffed' down my anger, only to see it blaze up in a trivial context once again, a con-text that was most inappropriate. Lord, I want freedom--to the degree my frail humanity allows--freedom from this compulsion. Lord, I am admonished by the wisdom you,.and others, have taught me. I have seen people mellow with the years, and others grow sour. Seeing someone act harshly, hearing another cut into someone's reputation, I react angrily at once, from the simple proud conviction that 'I wouldn't do it that way!' And I quickly find myself locked emotionally and mentally into scathing criticism." Jesus gently points out to us--after we wait silently for a while--that the only times he became angry were when the Father was attacked, ignored, impugned in some way. Our petty and obsessive responses melt before his gentle encouragement. Sometimes when we journey inwardly we become more acutely aware how often we fall into stubborn, addictive behaviors about which we feel helpless. Who is this "other" person who shows up within me, powerful, demanding, whom I watch with anguish as if it were a stranger? We have tried therapy, prescription drugs, behavior modification. The one.thing lacking to these tactics-- Review for Religious and I do not deny their value--is this: They rarely draw on that inner wisdom, that Jesus-centered encounter, where true change can take place. For instance, Alcoholics Anonymous has helped innumerable people, and indeed has an important spiritual com-ponent, namely, surrender to a Higher Power. But surrender in faith is only a beginning. There needs to be private self-ques-tioning that draws on the inner wisdom with which we are graced. Wl~en an addictive, destructive pattern has invaded our psyche so that a part of our life has become disconnected from the normal flow of life, we need to reach into the deepest resources within us: grace, the voice of Jesus, our inner wisdom. Within this intense, highly focused place in our mind, we call on Jesus to walk us through another pattern of behavior. Mental rehearsal is common to many forms of psychother-apy. Seeing yourself in the company of Jesus, however, and con-trasfing sad experiences of the past with "bright angels" of wisdom and true freedom, we choose a different, liberating pattern of action. We establish new boundaries, mentally and visually mov-ing away from the edges of danger. The mental rehearsal itself is now a new behavior that we can draw on when temptation returns. The hand retracts instead of reaching for the bottle, the eyes turn away from the stimulus to lust (maybe "custody of the eyes" was not just a life-depriving tactic after all!), the serving spoon is put down after one moderate portion. Psychologists continue to study how the mind visualizes behaviors and procedures. Imagination and imagery can be used in very sophisticated ways. In a recent New Yorker article, Malcolm Gladwell asks: "What do Wayne Gretzsky, Yo-Yo Ma, and a brain surgeon named Charlie Wilson have in common?" The answer: their practice of careful visualization before any action is taken. These men are virtuosi, and they exercise their great technical skills internally first. They mentally see an action through to the end before they perform it externally. Charlie Wilson, during his morning run, looks at each of the day's operations in his head, visualizing the entire procedure and its potential outcome. He says, "When I was actually doing the operation, it was as if I were doing it for the second time." Once, after finishing an operation, .taking off his gloves, and heading off down the hall, he suddenly realized that "the tape he had been playing in his head didn't match the operation that had unfolded before his eyes. 'I was correlating everything--what I saw, what I ~dy-August 2000 expected, what the X rays said. And I realized that I had not pur-sued one particular thing. So I turned around, scrubbed, and went back in, and, sure enough, there was a little remnant of tumor that was just around the corner. It would have been a disaster.''3 Consulting our inner wisdom involves a similar attention to detail. The skills to visualize here, however, are not the motor skills, but rather the spiritual skills we have accumulated over the years through prayer, scriptural study, and the counsels of wise Christians in spiritual reading and in the living church. It is all there inside, waiting to be drawn on like a rich bank account. Adding to the Inner Wisdom We sometimes feel empty, wandering endlessly in our private deserts. We feel locked into decades-old mental labyrinths. Our motivation flags. Dorothy Day once told a reluctant young friend that God "makes us understand this distaste, this recoil from reli-gion. The lethargy comes from a. consciousness of the immanence of the struggle, the fact that it is unceasing and will go on to death, and we often think that sheer thoughtless paganism would be a relief. ''~ But deep within we accept what the great John Cardinal Newman wrote: "Prayer is to the spiritual life what the beating of the pulse and the drawing of the breath are to the life of the body. It would be as absurd to suppose that life could last when the body was cold and motionless and senseless, as to call a soul alive which does not pray. The state or habit the spiritual life exerts itself consists in the continual activity of prayer.''5 Our task consists in never giving up on the faithful practice of prayer. How often we have heard that! And each morning we awake with renewed intention. But then we shoot through the day like a bullet, "busy about many things"--good things, too. When we finally bring ourselves to our inner wisdom, finally sit at the feet of Jesus just for a while, it seems we hear him say: "Until you are convinced that prayer is the best use of your time, you will not find time for prayer." And the sentence haunts us, but also frees us now for the best use of our time. It is as though a key has turned in a lock. Sometime~ it is helpful to have a favorite saint join you in that central place of peace. St. Joseph, who never ~ays a word in the Gospels, is delighted when you join him for an evening and sit with him on a bench just outside the little house in Nazareth. Review for Religious Perhaps Mary will come out, too, and rest awhile as the sun sets behind the Galilean hills. There is a beautiful view from Nazareth over towards the Roman city of Sepphoris, and even beyond to-the great sea. They will talk to you if you question them. When Problems Arise, When Hopes Surface When we go with Jesus into th~ place of our inner wisdom, we make starding discoveries. We may find problems we did not know we have. We are likely to become aware of wasteful, regrettable ways that our head and heart have been capable of, but cannot well afford. There are innumerable clamorous voices. There is the insistent voice of the Problem Solver. He wor-ries relentlessl~ about the future. The muscles around his eyes are taut because he is always peering ahead, looking for solutions there in the distance. He causes headaches and upset stomachs. The expectations of others are his con-stant concern as he tries to weigh a chance remark, interpret a fleeting facial expression. There is no center from which he acts. Life is one wrenching effort to get control of things and people. His bulky appointment calendar, like Marley's chain, gives him away. Another recognizable voice inside us is the Self-Accuser. Her skin gets hot, her hands become fists, as she recalls awkward words and clumsy gestures from years past. She plays memory tapes over and over in our head. No one is more persistent in tearing us down than she is: "You have been in religious life for fifty years now, but that is no proof that God loves you." Nothing so saddens, so pierces the heart like this cry, one we have all heard many times. The Self-Accuser has only to stop talking and thus give,us a quiet moment to lift our eyes to the cross or listen to Jesus' many words of love for us, or to hear Yahweh's endear-ments in the words of prophets and psalmists. But, beaten down by the Self-Accuser's words or shrinking from her grimaces, hear-ing we do not hear, seeing we do not see--because the Self- Accuser in us relendessly shares her deafness and blindness with us, and we chronically allow it. Sometimes it is helpful to have a favorite saint join you in that central place of peace. j~uly-Aug~tst 2000 There are other inner voices. Perhaps most persistent is the voice of the Lonely One. It does not let us forget that we long to love and be loved, to hold and be held, to whisper and be whis-pered to, to beclose to Another and not feel so alone. Sometimes we do feel consoled and calmed. The lonely restlessness at the center of our being, however, can never be completely quieted; perhaps it is not meant to feel so much peace. It is a reminder of" our desire for our heavenly home. How poignantly John of the Cross describes this quest for the Beloved in his Spiritual Canticle: "Where have you hidden, Beloved, and left me moaning?" In the hollow center of the soul where inner wisdom and grace live, there also dwells this urgent longing, We carry this wound in our heart. We become aware of it sometimes with hopeful anticipation, some-times with fear. In time, achieving greater integrity--the union between what we appear outwardly to others and what we know inwardly to be true--may calm us to some degree. Disturbing voices within us are balanced by "bright angels" calling us to. greater integrity. We long for inner peace, but only sometimes, with our inner wisdom, do we experience a joyous hope for it. Letting Memory remind us "of those splendid moments when we were touched by God, when we felt the reality of God deeply, is inner wisdom. Those blessed recollections remain when thought and emotions became as one with.an intensity that seems like an embrace. These are wells to which we can return time and again. Another support is Imagination: gathering together the way-ward impulses of our heart, humbly putting them before Jesus as the woman caught in adultery did during her brief moments with him after all the others had gone. And she heard him say, "Neither do I condemn you" (Jn 8:11). We long to hear such healing words, words of forgiveness that bring an offer of reconciliation. Unlike her, we may still hold out, failing to hear those words because of our pride and shame. St. Paul insists: "We entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God" (2 Co 5:20). The repetition of per-sonally inspiring gospel texts (we all have our own)--in a mantra-like fashion, but more intentionally, until they infuse the heart--evokes and strengthens the inner wisdom. "The Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name" (Jn 15:16). "You did not choose me, but I chose you" (Jn 15:16). Allowing such words to soothe the heart steadies our resolve. As the Curg d'Ambricourt affirmed on his deathbed in Georges Bernanos's novel The Diary of a Country Priest: "All is grace." l~eview for Religious Jesus the Center of Our Being It helps to anchor our resolve in one basic' truth: Jesus is the center of our being, our very existence. Until we can accept that, we cringe when we hear Jesus uttering those breathtaking demands to his disciples: "Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up h.is cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it" (Mt 10:37-39). Who does this Jesus think he is, pushing into our lives and taking them over? Presuming on our most instinctive loyalties! Preempting our deepest affections! Usurping our natural ties to father, mother, son, and daughter! Boldly proclaiming himself the most important person in our lives! This cross which he demands we take up daily disorients our whole lives, doesn't it? These demands are one way of forcing us to admit quite simply--and we are dazed by the thought--that we are not the center of our own life. Everything in our consumer culture tries to convince us that we are. If we can swallow and digest that one truth, many of the pieces in this vast jigsaw puzzle of our lives would fit together wonderfully. When we realize that Jesus made us the center of his life within his obedient love for his Father--these demands become acceptable, even desirable. My favorite image of intimacy with Jesus comes from John's Gospel. The beloved disciple, while re.clining at table on that unforget-table evening, leans back onto the breast of Jesus. Consulting the inner wisdom that God has put into our hearts, we know we are invited to do the same. Do we have the courage, the love, to do so? Notes ~ Thomas Keating, Open Mind, Opoz Heart (New York: Amity House, 1986), p. 35. 2 Keating, Open Mind, p. 112. 3 Malcolm Gladwell, "The Physical Genius," New Yorker, 2 August 1999, p. 63. 4 Dorothy Day, "Letter to an Agnostic," America (90th Anniversary Issue) 180, no. 13 (17 April 1999): 8. s Quoted in Saint Meinrad Archabbey's Community Bulletin, 4 July 1999, p. 2. ~dy-August 2000 EILEEN E O'HEA Tell Them, Tell the New Members. religious vocations A Mission is clear. That is, most if not all religious insti-tutes have spent days, weeks, months on mission state-ments for their communities. And they have done this bravely, wisely, prayerfully. These statements, coming from their lived experience as dedicated men and women, represent not only what they are doing now but also what they hope to do, or do better, or do more of. Concern for the poor, the marginalized, the disenfran-chised is a substantial part of communities' commitment to do whatever they can to facilitate the reign of God here on earth. A sister in my community, Elaine, one we all agree is charismatic in the true sense of the word, has been riding the chartered bus from New York City to the Bedford Hills Women's Correctional Facility every other Sunday. The bus is filled with inner-city children going to see their mothers. It is a two-hour ride. Elaine's con-cern for the women in prison and for their continuing relationship with their children has made these Sunday visits possible. For more than thirty years Elaine has worked in what she calls "the slammer." Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ, a decade-long contributor to our pages, had her third book published in May: In Wisdom's Kitchen: The Process of Spiritual Direction (Continuum). Her address is still 1750 Marion Street, #8; Roseville, Minnesota 55113. Review for Religiotts "The slammer" is an accurate term because, as Elaine enters, at least ten gates must open and slam shut before she gets to the room where she works within the razor-wired enclosure of this maximum-security prison. The room is now called The Children's Center. Elaine's job has been to do whatever she can to help the women keep in touch with their children. This article will not attempt to describe all that is involved in Elaine's ministry in prison, or to describe the eight convents (called Providence Houses) that she and others have reopened so that women leaving prison have a place to live and a chance to begin again in a new environment. Their children come too, of course. The sisters liv-ing in these houses with the women and children are quite clear about the mission-and-ministry statements of their congregation, the Sisters of St. Joseph of Brentwood, New York. Stories like Elaine's (or Eugene's, as the case may be) are true of individuals or groups in many communities--and are attract-ing new members. "Come and see," we say. Come, join us in try-ing to make a better world. Come, help to bring about systemic change. Every year a few do come. They are searching; they seek something worthwhile to give their life to. They want to make a difference, and they want to be with others, with communities that are facilitating the reign of God on this earth. For some new members, religious life seems to work for a while but then seems to be "not enough," not enough of what they looked for or hoped to find. "What do you get for doing this?" they ask, or "Why stay?" after the excitement of discovery fades; "I can do this without a vowed life of poverty, chastity, and obedience." And they are right; they can. Many women and men, ¯ married or partnered, hold the same values and are involved in the same types of ministry. When we invite new members into this little piece of the vine-yard, into participating with us in mission and ministry, we often forget a simple truth that might literally be underneath their skin. New members seem to be looking for three things: ° a lived expe-rience of gospel values through the mission and ministry of the community; ¯ intimacy, which is part of the friendship found within community; ° and intimacy with the Divine. It is this third one I am concerned about. Elaine and the Providence House sisters are, without a doubt, prayerful, God-centered, holy women. They reflect on the day's Scriptures together, talk about the meaning of the texts for their July-August 2000 O'Hea ¯ Tell Them, Tell the Nay Members. personal life and for their ministry, and they are committed to some personal prayer each day, usually some form of contempla-tive prayer. If we put prayer, community life, and ministry together, then why is it "not enough"? Admittedly, prayer or Scripture shar-ing sometimes means that those present share their personal strug-gles, philosophies, and theologies and thus can seem too intellectual, or too focused on the external ministerial needs, or too routinely self-focused. Most times, however, it is a heartfelt response to divine inspiration and the Gospels. Is this not "enough"? Perhaps not. Maybe those great mentors like Elaine and others are not sharing quite enough with the new member. We seem to do well at providing and accompanying new mem-bers in meaningful ministry. We also share community and friend- ~hip withthem, but we know, and hope they know, that we cannot supply what did not happen for them in their families of origin. Alice Miller, a leading psychologist of our time, states: "What you didn't get at age two, you will never get." Why? Not because we will not know love and affirmation, but because we will not know them as a two-year-old needed to know them. Intimacy and love is often an issue for new members, and they must work hard at discerning what they are meant to find within the community and what they must find within themselves. Frequently they feel there is not enough intimacy because deep friendships seem hard to find among the members. This is so because most of the members are much older, or are already bonded in relationships that have endured for years, or because the older members are so involved in their ministry that they do not have the time or the energy for anyone else. We probably will never resolve successfully all that is involved in the struggle for intimacy and love within religious communities, but we can do better. What remains after considering prayer, community life, and ministry is this: What do we get for doing all this? What has kept Elaine trudging up to the slammer each day for thirty years? What makes h6r such a holy woman? Is there some experience so sus-taining that makes it worth everything? Is it possible that you, Elaine, have experienced being grasped by Divine Love? Is there something that happens, intimacy with the Divine, that holds you, sustains you, makes you the very delightful and humorous person we all know? Did you encounter Christ in your ministry to the poor and is this what transformed you? Do you, Elaine, know, really know, intimacy with Divine Love or know you dwell in inef- Review for Religious fable Mystery? And is what you experience available to me, the new member? Can you tell me---if, indeed, it did happen for you-- whether it happened all at once, or gradually through the years, and what kinds of psychological, emotional, and spiritual ups and downs you have gone through? Was there one experience that was more formative for you than any other? Intimacy with Divine Love (and people experience it in a variety of ways) is what the human heart longs for, searches for. Our nature is such that we are all meant to realize union in and with the Divine even though each of us will experience it differ-endy. So, when we invite new members to "come and see," we must tell them what they get. In my novitiate days the sixty-four novices (thirty-two have remained these forty years) were told by a very wise and very Irish mistress of novices that, if we left all, we would receive back a hun-dredfold. Did we? I cannot speak for others, but my guess is that most (maybe not all) would say yes and that they would make the same life choice if they had the opportunity to live it over again. They just never say exactly why they would do this. Intimacy in any human relationship of true love is rarely spoken about in detail. The same is true of intim, acy in and with Divine Love. Mystics write about human and divine love because they break through egoeentricity and are no longer reticent or ashamed to speak of the wonder, the awe, the love they experi-ence. Poets write of human and divine love and tease our spiritual appetite by circling around some pro'found experience. They are like eagles riding the air current, then soaring so high we lose sight of them and what they are expressing. They stir up the embers of our hearts with their hints, but eventually leave us feel-ing tantalized by possibility. I do not think it can be any other way. Relationships of true love are intrinsically mysterious because the experience is beyond words, beyond intellectual constructs. The words of the poet point us to the moon, as the Zen saying goes, but once you see the moon the pointer is no longer neces-sary. In fact, it is an impediment. What remains after considering prayer, community life, and ministry is this: What do we get for doing all this ? July-August 2000 O'Hea ¯ Tell Them, Tell the New Members. What ke~ps us from at least giving hints as poets and lovers do? What can we say to new members if we are not poets? Some, like the poets, will use romantic language to describe their expe-rience of the Divine; others will be more concrete or more tran-scendent in expressing their experience. Recendy, at the end of a mission-and-ministry convocation, someone complained that he seldom heard Jesus referred to throughout the weekend. One of the participants responded by asking, "Is it more important to quote Scripture and refer explic-itly to Jesus or to do what he did and invite people to share the communion of table fellowship with us?" A good question, a great response. It has a familiar ring to many of us. It is the tension between doing works of justice and peace and theologizing about them, and then reflecting on them and integrating them as part of our own personal journey of faith. Simply naming God and Jesus as we talk about our lives and ministry is not what I am referring to. I want "hints" from Elaine and from the remaining thirty-two members of my novitiate. I think the reasons we hesitate to speak about our religious experi-ences are many. We do not all believe the same things about God or Jesus any more, and we do not want to offend, or we are afraid of exposing what is most sacred to us because it might meet with disdain and scoffing, or become the subject of theological combat. And so we are quiet. The pearl of great price is buried. Religious experience is always unique, different with every individual. Two categories, however, help to explicate distinct modes of experience. For those whose religious experience is the esoteric, God is the One beyond all names .and forms and is Mystery. There is nothing to say and nothing to tell because, over their years of spiritual searching, they have discovered this truth: God is ultimately an ineffable Mystery. Some not only take refuge in this discovery, but even collapse into it. They stop searching and ride on their limited knowledge, presuming that what they have discovered is all that can be realized. Consequently, their relationship with ineffable Mystery is rarely spoken of. I think some new members want to know that this experience of ineffable Mystery is not the dead end of the spiritual journey, but a realized source of joy in the one experiencing it; that this connection with the Divine, an experience beyond any human connection, makes a life of celibacy the only choice for them; and that it is this par-ticipation in divine life that impels them to minister to others and Reviev~ for Religious thereby have an experience, however fragile, of equanimity, integrity, wholeness. Esoterics must learn how to share their expe-rience of ineffable Mystery with the new members and admit to them that there is such a thing as the hundredfold. For some others, another type of religious experience is open, one frequently referred to as exoteric. It is the experience of a personal relationship with the

Issue 59.6 of the Review for Religious, 2000. ; NOVEMBER: DECEMBER 2000 ,VOLUME 59 NUMBER 6 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for.Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, iVlO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subsEription rates. ©2000 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. Jew rel,g,ous LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm James and Joan Felling Adrian Gaudin SC Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB. Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ Patricia Wittberg SC NOVEMBER DECEMBER 2000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER 6 contents 566 spiritual practice Retrieving the Practice of Silence Donald J. Goergen oP enters us into an appreciation of silence that we might commit ourselves more to its observance. 575 The Dangers of Solitude Kenneth C. Russell, guiding readers through some 12th-century advice to hermits, shows its 2 l st-cenrury relevance to hermits and others as well. 584 A Spiritual Direction Mary Beth Moore SC gazes at, listens to, a few moments of reality and possibility within contemporary sisterly living. 594 a witness response Contemplative Religious Witness: A Redemptoristine Monastery Dennis J. Billy CSSR finds the life of a group of contemplative sisters very much present to his apostolic mission, and happily reflects that the reverse is true as well. 601 AVowed Response to the Postmodern World Andr~ Maureen Soete SSND seeks ways for the vowed life to contribute more vigorously, more effectively, to the alleviation of troubles in our troubled world. Review for Religious 608 examples from the past Mary Ward: Centuries Her Scroll Lawrence F. Barmann sketches the life story of Mary Ward, the saintly English founder of the Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary, as an inspiration for us living in the current ecclesial milieu. 614 627 St. Catherine's Letters: Human Love, Gracious Authority Stan Parmisano OP finds that in style and content the letters of Catherine of Siena (1347-1380) have surprising and challenging and charming relevance for persons living today. Katharine Drexel's Cultural Relevance Now Normandie J. Gaitley SSJ sketches the life of the recently canonized Mother Katharine Drexel SBS (1858-1955), a Philadelphia debutante who used her inheritance to serve Native Americans and African Americans. 633 643 vocation When Vocations Happen by Accident Elizabeth Julian RSM describes with quiet enthusiasm her sense of a flexible small community in New Zealand that fosters acquaintance and has shown itself to foster vocations. Vocational Support Donald Macdonald SMM speaks of the human need of support in one's vocation and of the providential availability of that support if we are alert to its manifold presence. departments 564 Prisms 650 Canonical Counsel: Responsibilities of the Novice Director 656 Book Reviews 666 Indexes to Volume 59 November-December 2000 prisms Whave come to appreciate the rich complexi.ty of the biblical term jubilee, espe-cially as we have looked toward the new millennium. But as we approach the Advent and Christmas seasons of the year 2000, one focus of jubilee stands out. Jubilee implies celebration. Advent and Christmas seasons pro-vide an opportune moment for us to consider what it is that we celebrate. Celebrati6n often means bringing people together, sometimes those dearest to us, and at other times the "crowd" that comes together only for special occasions. Celebration can include elegant banquets or simple fin-ger food. It may suggest a refined cocktail party or a noisy beer-keg-and-pretzels get-together. Celebration can imply long-term planning or it may be a spur-of-the- moment, spontaneous occasion. We celebrate beginnings, like newborn babies and the wedding day; we celebrate completions, like school graduations and retirements. We observe national patriotic days, and we take time for religious festivals. But for all the aspects of a jubilee year of forgiveness, justice, and reconciliation, what is it that we most cele-brate? The biblical notion of jubilee celebrates, above all, our being God's people and our living like God's sons and daughters. This planet called Earth is "home" for us because it is God's home. Our space-age view of our planet Earth has brought home to us how much we all are "stewards," not owners, of God's gift to us. Review for Religious What is striking is how our jubilee celebrations enter us into the Gospel Prodigal Son parable. Whether we more identify with one who hopes to see life as only an arena of personal delights and squanderings or whether we more identify with the other who defines life as a kind of slavery with weighty obligations and grim duties, we realize how much we need a jubilee understanding of life. Both sons, in Jesus' famous parable, understand neither the father who helped bring them into life nor the life which this father wants to share with them. The first son in his self-cen-tered celebrating misses the point of celebration. The second son in his self-defined servitude also misses the idea of celebra-tion. Just as the father in the parable goes out of the way to meet each son, so God continues to break into our life to call us to a reality of biblical jubilee. Advent is our jubilee celebration of our longing and desire to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of our life. Christmas is our jubilee celebration of God's desire and longing to come and play forever among the children of Earth. Advent and Christmas are at the center of our understanding jubilee because both seas~ons emphasize the heart of all our reasons to celebrate: God calls us sons and daughters, and we know the redemptive salvation that Jesus brought, of living in God's home all the days of our life. David L. Fleming SJ thank you for your ~uppor~throughout thi~ pa~t yoar and pray that (~od~rieh o a nd~ abundant iubiloo Advont and ~hri~tma~ Th~ Mitor~ and ,of Revi~ ~orRoligiou~ . " November-December 2000 spiritua practice DONALD J. GOERGEN Retrieving the Practice of Silence Jesus experienced the need for quiet. "In the morn-ing, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed"(Mk 1:35, NRSV). What did he seek there? What did he find? The Book of Psalms is quoted in the New Testament more often than any other book of the Hebrew Bible. What role did the psalms play in the prayer of Jesus? "Be still, and know that I am God" (Ps 46:10). How often in the course of his life did Jesus pray over verses like that, or this: "For God alone my soul waits in silence; from him comes my salvation"? (Ps 62:1). There are few things in human life more important, both personally and communally, than discovering the value of silence. Spirituality and religion are important dimensions of human and social life, and so are silence and stillness. Other civilizations, perhaps more pastoral, more agrarian ones, had greater opportunities for the practice of silence. Our times seem less fortunate in that regard. Yet silence is essential to wholesome living. My purpose in these reflections is to help us appreciate silence more and commit ourselves to practicing it. Donald J. Goergen OP wrote on celibacy for our May- June 1998 issue. His address is Friends of God Dominican Ashram; 720 35th Street; Kenosha, Wisconsin 53140. Review for Religious Worship, Charity, and Silence Which is more important, love of God or love of neighbor? (Mk 12:28-31). It does not take much to realize that this question is falsely posed. Which is more important, inhaling or exhaling, yang or yin? St. Anselm spoke of God as "the Being a greater than which cannot be conceived." Certainly, for one who believes, God alone deserves to be worshiped. Adoration and praise are the only appro-priate responses to God. Although there is nothing in human life more important than love of God, the God of Jesus instructs us that there is something that must precede or accompany it. "So, when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remem-ber that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift" (Mt 5:23- 24). "Those who say 'I love God,' and hate their brothers or sis-ters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen cannot love God whom they have not seen. The commandment we have from him is this: those who love God must love their brothers and sisters also" (1 Jn 4:20-21). As important as worship is, equally important is the practice of charity, love of neighbor, the "works of mercy" (Mr 25:31-46). The revolution in Jesus' teaching was not that he understood love of God, the Shema (Dr 6:4-5), as the core of the Hebrew Scriptures. Almost every practicing and devout Jew understood that to be the great com-mandment. But Jesus' placing love of neighbor (Lv 19:18; Mk 12:31) on a par with love of God, that was revolutionary, and for him that was what true religion is about. For Jesus, the second commandment is not secondary, not second in the sense of less significant. According to Matthew, it is "like" the "great and first" commandment (Mr 22:38-39). Luke (10:27) reports them as really one commandment. True worship or love of God is inseparable from true com-passion or love of neighbor. But what do love of God and love of neighbor, or worship and the works of mercy, have to do with the practice of silence? Abhishiktananda, or Henri Le Saux, the French monk who came to India in 1948 and immersed himself in its reli-gious environment, wrote: Now if something has passed in this long discourse by the way of words, yet beyond words, if you have heard in the words of the Upanishads some echo of what the Spirit has November-Decenlber 2000 Goergen ¯ Retrieving the Practice of Silence certainly whispered in your heart when you sat in contem-plation of the mystery of the Father and the Son, then you will discover by yourselves the secret of what is called the Advaitic or Upanishadic prayer. It can be summed up in one Hebrew phrase of Psalm 65, which Jerome translates: silen-tium tibi laus. Silence is praise for you. Silence in prayer, silence in thanksgiving, prayer, and adoration, silence in meditation, silence inside and outside as the most essential preparation for this stillness of the soul in which alone the Spirit can work at his pleasure.~ The contemplative and interior journey, the love and worship of God, are dependent on silence. But charity or love of neigh-bor depends on silence too. A loving kindness toward our human companions on this earth requires the silent journey inward just as true worship of God requires it. Can there be true love of neigh-bor without confronting the truth about ourselves? Can we expect reconciliation and forgiveness in our world if we ourselves are not yet ready to forgive? If we are to transform our world, we must also be working on becoming transformed ourselves. Social engage-ment requires time apart. Silence is essential if we are to deepen our love for God and our love for our neighbor. Silence, Solitude, and Simplicity What does silence sound like? What does it look like? Are there different kinds of silence? Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earth-quake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. (1 Kg 19:11-13) True silence, the inner stillness, the still point, is an achieve-ment to be sought, yet always remains a grace. But it is a grace upon which we must focus our attention. It requires discipline, which does not guarantee interior silence, but rather prepares the way. We must devote time to "the practice of silence," the practice of interior and contemplative prayer, the practice of an awareness that is the fruit of quieting the mind.2 Such "quiet" is not easily obtained in our world today. Not Review for Religious that a busy, technological, urban society is the enemy of silence, but neither is it a friend. Modern social and commercial life cannot prevent the pursuit of silence, but neither do they encourage or value it. Entertainment is a noisy industry. The more channels we have on television, the better. But then they must be filled--with "stuff," whatever it be. They compete for attention; thus, the more out-rageous, the more likely the success. The Internet now multiplies ways to distract us from an inner stillness. Not to find television entertaining seems quaint. To see it or the overuse of the Internet as distraction from true entertain-ment, a life with God quietly pursued, is sec-ular heresy. For silence is not the stuff of which modern societies, commerce, or edu-cation are ordinarily made. Not that the media, the schools, the churches, market-places, and businesses are avowed enemies of silence; they are just uneasy with it. We are talking about a disciplined silence that requires resolve. Its close friends are solitude and simplicity. These compan-ions reveal how countercultural true silence really is. Solitude is one of silence's most cherished friends. Yet how difficult it is in our world today to find solitude, to pursue solitude, to practice solitude. We are "driven" away from it. We can hardly face the silence within ourselves. We flee. As Francis Thompson wrote: I fled Him, down the nights and down the days; I fled Him, down the arches of the years; I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears I hid from Him, and under running laughter.3 The running is aided by all the activities of our world, justified by the needs of our world, and rationalized by "This is just our world and that's the way it is." To desire silence we must value solitude. We identify aloneness with loneliness. But, until we are at home with ourselves, we will always be lonely, no matter how busy, how "with it," how much with others we might be. As we know, marriage is no cure for loneliness. Neither is single life. Dietrich Modern social and commercial life cannot prevent the pursuit of silence, but neither do they encourage or value it. November-December 2000 Goergen ¯ Retrieving tbe Practice of Silence Bonhoeffer once cautioned us to be wary of the person who lives with another or in community who cannot be alone, or who lives alone but cannot live in community.4 Sociality and solitude are two sides of the same coin: we can-not find one without the other. Silence lives on solitude. We must find ways to structure it into our lives on a regular basis, like the food we eat. Where can we find that place apart, that space for being alone, and for how long can we keep ourselves there with-out being taken up by distractions~ Where can we go to practice silence? Or how in the midst of activity can we find that cell within? s One of solitude's companions is simplicity of life. Simplicity inside requires simplicity outside. A cluttered, thing-filled, con-sumer- intensive environment is hardly the place in which to prac-tice an awareness that few things in life are important. The world immediately outside myself needs to reflect what I am trying to attain within myself. Simplicity in life is an outward expression of simplicity within. One's "within" and "without" go together. And now we can see more clearly why our current economic world can easily become an enemy of silence. The pursuit of silence eventu-ally becomes a pursuit of simplicity of life--which is a recognizable enemy to a consumer economy, a global and ever expanding mar-ket economy. Not that the market is evil; it is just easy prey to the pretension that it alone is important, the be-all and end-all of human life. The practices of silence, solitude, and simplicity enable us to see the truth about economic pursuits: How inhumane they can be when given priority in life, how grounded in greed they become! Kinds of Silence There are a variety of silences.6 Silence can be either destruc-tive or constructive.7 Destructive silence is refusing to speak when a word is called for, a word of consolation, of affection, of chal-lenge. Destructive silence can be passive aggression, a refusal to participate, a lack of care, a form of punishment, unconscionable noncommunication. But silence as context for an interior journey is positive. Silence as a socia! context is the absence of noise in our imme-diate environment. There are different degrees of environmental silence. A noiseless environment is difficult to find in modern Review for Religious urban settings. One can distinguish rural silences and urban silences. For someone unaccustomed to rural silences, the sound of the cricket or the howl of a coyote can be disturbing. There are sounds to which we have become accustomed and those to which we are not. Familiar sounds need not destroy environmen-tal silence, but can blend with it. There is a silent stillness to the vastness of nature: the sounds and silence of the ocean, the moun-tains, the desert, the plains. Each is a different environment and a different silence. On a windless day, sitting atop one of the mountain peaks of the Sangre de Cristo range near Christ in the Desert Monastery in northern New Mexico, one can hear an almost Human silence absolute environmental silence. Human silence is the presence of nonspeech, call be a silence It is not necessarily noncommunication or non-of solitude, communitarian. Silence itself can communicate abundantly, and it is amazing what can be corn- but it can also be municated without words. Human silence can be a silence of solitude, but it can also be commu- communitarian. nitarian. A solemn silence can prevail in Christian or Buddhist monasteries or a Hindu ashram, in a synagogue, church, or mosque. These settings or "environments" can be sacred space. There are times and places when human speech is out of place or out of season. Human silence can be community silence, but there is also personal silence. An individual person can cultivate silence--by seeking environmental silence, or sacred space, or solitude, but also by the practice of silence: avoiding unnecessary speech, c~eating personal space, the silence of one's own room, withdrawing to "the cell within," lis-tening to music, allowing absorption in art and beauty, acquiring an inner stillness and the practice of meditation. Personal silence itself is not only oriented toward calm, tran-quillity, and an absence of stress, but ultimately toward interior silence, the silencing of the mind, even if this is rare or only momentary. I remember a conversation with a cloistered Dominican nun, who had a doctorate and had been teaching before joining this cloistered contemplative community. When I asked why she had joined the monastery, she replied, "I needed to stop thinking if I was going to start praying." The human being is a reflective being, but also a contemplative being that sometimes needs to move beyond thoughts (mental silence) as well as wordsv-~z-~'~---)-'[-i November-December 2000 Goergen ¯ Retrieving the Practice of Silence (verbal silence). The interior journey is in fact directed toward this deep silence within, this cave of the heart, this still point, this soul of the soul, this human spirit. Spiritual silence is the human spirit at peace, the silence of the spirit in its communion with the Spirit of God, the divine Spirit, the Holy Spirit. This is mystical silence, with its dark nights, its ecstatic joy, its calm recollection, its deep rest. Silence of any sort is most often not constant, but periodic, coming at intervals, having a rhythm of its own. Deep silence, mystical silence, is not an achievement but a grace. Thus one can speak of the grace of silence, a grace that is present in varied ways and at varied levels, exteriorly and interiorly: the prayer of silence, the silent Presence, the Holy Mystery. It is this mystery that we cel-ebrate in liturgy and seek in contemplation. We experience litur-gical silence, a pastoral silence, intimate silences, times and places not to speak, for which words are inappropriate, occasions on which only silence can communicate. Silence can communicate from within a depth beyond words. In community, in friendship, in ministry, and in prayer there must be silence as well as speech. Divine silence is God's very own silence, God's very own self-communication, God's' awesome and incomprehensible transcen-dence, God's overwhelming intimate immanence, God's elusive presence and mysterious absence, God's truth and God's beauty, the Nameless One whose name is Father, Son, and Spirit, the One- Who-Is, the One-Who-Is-With-Us, the silence of being, the sound of ore, the soundlessness of communion, the union of God and humanity, the union of Word and flesh, the triune union, the incor-poration of humanity into the silent triunity of its Creator. There is ultimately no distinction between divine Silence and divine Speech. They are one 'and the same. God's speech is silent, and God's silence speaks. Silence and Theology .The practice of silence is necessary not only for the spiritual journey and to sustain our humanity. It is also essential for doing theology. Theologians are accountable for their theology to their professional peers, to their varied communities of faith, and to society at large for the quality, fidelity, and social implications of their work. They cannot absolve themselves of this threefold responsibility. But the theologian is also accountable to God. One Review for Religious does not stand before the Holy Mystery, the mysterium fascinans et tremendum, without asking the Holy Spirit for courage, guid-ance, and wisdom. In other words, all theology must begin with prayer. It has both a reflective moment and a contemplative moment. It is not an ego project, but a work of the Spirit. Theology cannot be done apart from silence. The practice of silence, of placing oneself in the presence of God, of meditation, of listening, of longing are all part of doing theology. Theology can too easily become words, verbal batdes, polemic, agenda ridden, jargon, rather than revelatory, illuminating, con-nected to life, committed to Truth. This happens when theolo-gians neglect the practice of contemplative silence--which would make them aware of both the inadequacy and the necessity of words for communicating the divine mystery. A theologian needs to be practiced in the art of silence. So does the magisterium in the church need to practice it. "Roma locuta est," the saying goes. But think of the symbolic power in "Roma tacuit." What a wonderful example that could be. Magisterial authority must reflect that we are a learning church as well as a teaching church. Is not part of the crisis over author-ity the ways in which the church exercises its authority? We do not grant authority easily to those who do not listen. Silence gives value to words. Apart from words, silence can be sterile, but apart from silence words lose their power. As Ecclesiastes (3:7) says, "There is a time for keeping silence, a time for speaking." Silence is a work of the Spirit. True silence is ulti-mately prayer. It speaks with authority. It communicates truth. It creates community. It is the voice of the soul, of the human spirit, and of the Holy Spirit. Can we afford to allow its practice to become peripheral in our lives? In The Sleeping Beauty, Ralph Harper points to the value of silence for our world: Each order of experience has its own a.tmosphere. The atmo-sphere of presence, of giving, of wholeness, is silence. We know that serious things have to be done in silence, because we do not have words to measure the immeasurable. In silence people love, pray, listen, compose, paint, write, think, suffer. These experiences are all occasions of giving and receiving, of some encounter with forces that are inex-haustible and independent of us. These are easily distin-guishable from our routines and possessiveness as silence is distinct from noise.8 November-December 2000 Goergen ¯ Retrieving the Practice of Silence Not only nuns and monks, but all of us need to retrieve the art and practice of silence. We need to dip deeply into the silent abyss of self, of God, of God in the self and the self in God, We need to explore the emptiness and the fullness that lie within us. We need silence. Notes 1 Abhishiktananda, "The Upanishads and Advaitic Experience," in The Further Shore (New Delhi: I.S.P.C.K., 1984), p. 117. 2 Buddhist traditions also see a triple relationship: compassion, rooted ¯ in egolessness, which in turn is rooted in mindfulness. These three are intimately connected. See Sogyal Rinpoche, The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying (San Francisco: Harper, 1992), esp. pp. 59-72, 116-122, 188-201. 3 The first lines of "The Hound of Heaven." 4 Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together (New York: Harper and Row, Publishers, 1954), esp. pp. 76~89. "Let him who cannot be alone beware of community. Let him who is not in community beware of being alone. ¯. The mark of solitude is silence, as speech is the mark of community. Silence and speech have the same inner correspondence and difference as do solitude and community. One does not exist without the other. Right speech comes out of silence, and right silence out of speech. Silence does not mean dumbness, as speech does not mean chatter. Dumbness does not create solitude and chatter does not create fellowship" (p. 78). s See Catherine of Siena: The Dialogue, trans. Suzanne Noffke OP (New York: Paulist Press, 1980), on the "cell of self-knowledge," pp. 25, 118, 122, 125, 135, and 158. 6 Theodore Pereira in "Eloquence in Silence, Healing in Stillness," Indian Theological Studies 33 (June 1996): 99-126, has written about different types of silences. 7 "Silence itself is expressed in several ways. We know silences of contempt and of joy, of pain and of pleasure, of consent and of solitude." Jean-Luc Marion, God without Being (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991), pp. 53-54. ~ Ralph Harper, The Sleeping Beauty (London: Harvill Press, 1955), pp. 110-111. The word "men" in the original was changed to "people" to accommodate current usage. Review for Religious KENNETH C. RUSSELL The Dangers of Solitude ~o~e~oe ldi!a nTgheerrse oisf as ololintugd tera. dAitniodn t hoef wwaarrnniinngg sw hoauvlde- bneo th ceormmiets solely from cenobites suspicious of solitaries off doing "their own thing." Religious who have the highest regard for the blessings and joys of the life of aloneness with God have tempered their enthusiasm with cautionary words about the special difficulties the solitary is likely to encounter. Thomas Merton, for example, warns that "sordid difficulties and uncertainties" attend .the life of even interior solitude,l Authors from the first centuries of the church conjure up frightening pictures of the demons who lie in wait for the unsuspecting hermit, while modern writers warn newcomers to the desert that solitude will force them to confront the disturbing image of their true self. The message is clear: more awaits the novice hermit than the beauties of nature and the spiritual delights which ancient and contemporary enthusiasts of the eremitical life tend to emphasize. I suppose that most contemporary solitaries would agree that demons in one guise or another must be wrestled with and that it can, indeed, be a distressing experience to come face to face with the self we usually avoid in a flurry of activity. However, I also suspect that most hermits are somewhat amused by both the modern and the ancient depiction of their lot. They would be only too happy to confess that there are no monsters writhing in the Kenneth C. Russell last wrote for our March-April 2000 issue. His address remains 40 Landry Street, Apt. 1505; Vanier, Ontario; K1L 8K4 Canada. November-December 2000 E5-7-5 Russell ¯ The Dangers of Solitude corners of their huts and that the identity crisis so precious to their contemporaries does not keep them awake nights. What they actually confront, it seems, is a routine cycle of sun and cloud on a prairie stretching clear to the horizon. There are no mountains or valleys to speak of. Their bad days are as unremarkable as their good ones. They struggle against subtle temptations, not spectacular ones. It has always been so. The 12th-century Cistercian Aelred of Rievaulx recognized this in his hard-hitting Letter to a Recluse, addressed to his elderly sister but written with less seasoned solitaries in mind? So did his contemporaries Peter the Venerable and Bernard of Portes, who wrote shorter and less theologically dense letters to male recluses who had asked their advice.3 Twelfth-century recluses lived in circumstances that are quite different from those in which most modern hermits seek solitude. But this does not mean that the letters of Peter and Bernard are merely quaint witnesses to a bygone era. The basics of the eremitical life are constant across the centuries. They are also unaffected by the way in which different solitaries choose to live the eremitical life. Whether the solitary is a recluse, a hermit, or a homeless wanderer like Benedict Joseph Labre does not radically modify the eremitical life. Consequently the letters Peter and Bernard wrote to 12th-century male monastic recluses remain relevant to male and female solitaries of all kinds, even today. Indeed, it seems to me that their practical orientation makes them especially useful. Therefore, I want to focus on the difficulties these authors see arising when the honeymoon period of the eremitical life--which may last a good long time--is finally over. In highlighting some of the minor difficulties which can grow into major problems if not attended to, it is not my intention to present a negative view of the solitary life. It does have dark days; it would not be a human enterprise if it did not. However, in focusing on the gray periods, I am not denying its spells of fine weather. I am merely reiterating the warning uttered down the centuries that people who wander off into the desert on their own had better know what they are about. Peter the Venerable's Letter to Ghislebert Peter the Venerable, the great abbot of Cluny, was, by his own admission, a very busy man. In fact, he shocks us a bit by admitting that he read the letters from a Cluniac recluse named Ghislebert in Review for Religious his choir stall on Holy Saturday. He claims that he had simply not been able to find a moment to read them earlier. Peter may have been rushed, but he nevertheless knew something about the eremitical life. Not only did he himself periodically spend time in solitude, but he had pastoral experience in directing monks who sought a solitary retreat for a limited period or for life. There were actually a large number of hermits living in the woods near Cluny. Peter the Venerable, then, knew what he was talking about when he replied to Ghislebert's request for guidance. The key to Peter's advice is the emphasis he puts on the idea that, as a recluse, Ghislebert has been buried with Christ. We do not know the nature of the liturgical ceremony with which Ghislebert was committed to his cell, but other sources indicate that the idea of being buried with Christ and dead to the world was sometimes dramatically represented by using funeral rites to initiate such enclosure. In any case, Peter emphasizes that, if his effort to live as a recluse is going to succeed, Ghislebert had better be sure that he is indeed dead to the world and the world dead to him. To drive home the point, Peter quotes the desert father Arsenius: "Flee people, be silent, and you will be saved." In short, be what you have set out to be and all will be well. Although we may feel a little ill-at-ease with the medieval idea of the recluse being rather literally buried with Christ, it is obvious that any new solitary needs to make a definitive break with the world and his or her past to get off to a good start. He or she has to be serious about being marginal. But, for all the images of being cut off and buried, the reality is that a living human being goes into the desert. He or she wants to be there, of course, but the spiritual and especially the psychological conditioning to solitude is not achieved by a mere act of will. The hermit, in fact, begins with some interior dividedness. Part of the self has no interest in disappearing. Inevitably the life force will rise up against the isolation and denial of achievement that the solitary life demands. Hermits also soon discover, as the Carthusian Guigo II puts it, that they are a crowd unto themselves. They are, indeed, the doorway through which the world presses into the cell. They may succeed in finding a quiet spot on the sidelines of society, but the Hermits soon discover that they are a crowd unto themselves. November-December 2000 Russell ¯ The Dangers of Solitude internal vacuum created by their withdrawal makes them vulnerable to the imagination's readiness to reassert their right to a place in the world. Since hermits have what we might term a "weak" present, the mind tends to take refuge in either the past or the future. Bernard of Portes will highlight the way in which the past crowds into the hermit's mind. Peter the Venerable puts more emphasis on the daydreams about the future which exploit the hermit's status to draw him away from his solitude. He pictures the monk turned hermit imagining that he feels the tabs of a bishop's miter on the back of his necl~ or fantasizing that he is the wise, holy, and much admired abbot of a large monastic community. This is all nonsense, of course, and surely most beginners are as amused by the tricks the imagination plays as Peter the Venerable is. What is not funny is that these silly thoughts can trouble prayer. It is also true, unfortunately, that small threads can weave themselves into strong ropes. If hermits are not careful, they can convince themselves that they are made for something better than the sorry life of a solitary. A more serious pressure to "return from the dead" and reenter the hustle and bustle of.life, bit by bit, springs from the essential nature of the solitary existence. Hermits have to live without the external momentum that social interaction usually provides. They are not carried along by the excitement of what is going on at their workplace, nor can they look forward to parties or sports events to distract them. Unfortunately, unless solitaries maintain their focus on whatever is the task of the moment, their day-to-day existence will begin to feel dull and wearisome. The obvious way to relieve this lethargy is for the solitary to engage in a small amount of pastoral or counseling activity. This sounds like a psychologically sound idea, especially to modern Christians, who are more than a little suspicious of the way hermits pull away from the good causes "activists" think so important. Peter the Venerable, however, is not so sure. He is afraid that this public ministry will become addictive. Instead of relieving the hermits' boredom so that they can return to the solitary life refreshed, each turn outward makes solitude all the more unbearable and the turn away from it all the easier. What looks like a solution to the pressures of the eremitical regime can destroy a hermit's ability to live the solitary life. "Doing good" can do a hermit in. A second consequence of the turn outward is that the solitaries' Review for Religious availability attracts people who offer two enticing things: prestige and cash. Since the strict eremitical life deprives hermits of the ordinary opportunities to see themselves mirrored in the reaction of others, Peter the Venerable rightly fears that Ghislebert will take the high esteem in which he is held by those he helps as the true measure of his worth. The abbot sees a further danger in the money that the hermit will be offered for his services. With all the good intentions in the world, Ghislebert can easily find himself managing a little charitable fund which will grow, as such things do, until, as Peter puts it, he is putting up buildings and demolishing himself. Peter's point would seem to be that hermits who are not perfectly honest about their motivations can make a place for themselves in the world. They can keep an address in the woods, as it were, and still be part of society. The price they pay, unfortunately, is the abandonment of their original commitment. History offers many examples which confirm that the hardest thing in the world for solitaries is actually to be what they profess to be. Aelred of Rievaulx was very hard on the way in which solitaries drift into outside activities. He sharply admonished them to wake up to the facts of their vocation. "When you are pressured to get involved: Tu sede, tu tace, tu sustine. Sit still, keep quiet, and stick it out! Period! Leave the doing of good deeds to those who .have the responsibility for such tasks." The solitary's fundamental temptation, it seems, is to focus on something other than God. According to Peter, this can be anything from good works to an obsession with health or appearance. "Doing good" can do a hermit in. Bernard of Portes's Letter to Rainald The Carthusian Bernard of Portes agrees with Peter the Venerable that solitaries need to be on guard against the distractions that are likely to entice them away from their fundamental commitment. He is particularly sensitive, however, to the spiritual and psychological repercussions of the hermit's withdrawal from society. He understands very well that the social self will not go lightly into solitude. Though hermits are united to all believers and, indeed, all humanity in their union with Christ in his church, the social self wants to strut its stuff in the midst of the diversions November-December 2000 Russell * The Dangers of Solitude Hermits do not have the social status they enjoyed in the 12th century. of the marketplace. It does not want to be shut away with not much more than God to focus on. Therefore, Bernard warns Rainald that he must expect a spell of bad weather sooner or later. One day he might be hit by a wave of sadness and the next be in a bad mood and irritable. He will find tapes from his past running in his head while he reedits the script of what he said and did. A troupe of lewd thoughts will stage its floor show one day, and lukewarnmess flood in the next. It seems that there is no escape from these inner storms and flat stretches. Indeed, Bernard maintains that hermits go into the desert specifically t6 wrestle with these elements that distract us from God. They are, we might say, the psychological echoes of a hermit's attachment to the world he or she claims to have renounced. Bernard of Portes warns hermits that, because they are no longer carried along by the current of daily life in society, they will be the targets of acedia and sadness. Acedia, a listless psychospiritual condition, weighs so heavily on its victims that some escape from the boredom o'f the here and now into dreams of what has been and might yet be while others slip into the torpor of chronic fatigue. This affliction, which involves a hanging back from the initial vocational commitment and a failure to actualize it in the present moment, "detemporalizes" hermits. It weakens their focus on the here and now and sets them adrift. Therefore they look outward for things to occupy their mind and fill their time. Bernard says it is very important for hermits to give their life a certain self-generated dynamism by moving from one activity to another th~'oughout the day. Oddly enough, this is in accord with the traditional wisdom that the secret of the eremitical life is "Keep it moving." Bernard also emphasizes meditation and advises Rainald to be totally present to the words he is saying when he recites the Office. Bernard, it is quite clear, believes that acedia can be held at bay if a hermit puts his or her mind to it and lives in the present moment. Sadness, however, is another matter. Bernard seems convinced that an occasional period of feeling down is an inescapable feature of the eremitical life. Sadness is, I suppose, a pit into which an Review for Religious individual ill-suited for solitude might tumble, but this does not seem to be what Bernard has in mind. He is describing, not a chronic or pathological condition, but the normal downturns of life--which the hermit feels more intensely because of his or her isolation. On the spiritual level, the alternation of these strong and weak periods is inevitable in view of the ebb and flow of God's grace. If acedia pulls one away from the present, sadness can be said to sink one into it. Sadness is the clouding over of the eternal horizon of hope which draws us forward. Without the attraction of the ultimate goal--which is, remember, the sole dynamic element in a hermit's life--the individual is oppressed by the miseries of the present. For no good reason, anger can well up in the solitary and rail away at the self or other people: "Nothing they do is ever any good, and nothing I try ever works out!" Such slack times call for patience, because, once again, the temptation is to shift attention away from God and the love that is his due. The self, whether proud or inadequate, whether much sought after or neglected, must not become the primary object of the hermit's attention. Application to Modern Hermits Is any of this applicable to modern hermits living in country cabins and cheap city apartments? I think so. Times have certainly changed, but the leisure of the hermit can still go flat, and money remains a worrisome issue. Unlike their 12th-century counterparts, modern hermits do not have to figure out how to channel their excess funds to the poor without attracting a crowd of beggars, but they do have to worry about how to live apart from the world and still earn their keep. Unless they are supported by a religious congregation or order, paying their bills and providing some measure of stability in an unsettled time can be a real preoccupation. Indeed, it can shipwreck their project altogether. Pride, which Peter the Venerable and Bernard of Portes see as a major threat to hermits, would seem to be less of a worry these days. Solitaries are looked up to once again, but the applause is not unanimous. In fact, many people who give their lives to the service of Christ and his poor question the sense of such a calling. Certainly hermits do not have the social status they enjoyed in the 12th century. In any case, while many religious who become November-December 2000 Russell ¯ The Dangers of Solitude With no one else to worry about, they can become obsessed with every ache. solitaries identify themselves as hermits, most lay hermits have no official status of any kind. They live a hidden life which is just that, hidden. The lack of social status does not mean, of course, that hermits are immune to the temptation to take a little secret pride in the uniqueness of their calling. Pride, however, does not seem to be the great danger it was to hermits in the Middle Ages. Certainly relevant today, however, is the emphasis Peter the Venerable and Bernard of Portes put on the need for the hermit to exist in the now. This almost Buddhist focus on being present to the moment is for both of them basic to the eremitical life. Without this absorption in the here and now, distractions press in. The hermit, to borrow a phrase from the world of sports, "loses his or her concentration" on the worship of God in unending prayer. This is a major problem, but, given the restrictions of the solitary life, it manifests itself in small and sometimes silly ways. For example, hermits may get too wrapped up in their work or turn repairs to their dwelling into a full-scale redecorating project. They can become finicky fussbudgets who insist that every item in their cell be lined up just so. Worse yet, with no one else to worry about, they can become obsessed with every ache and sniffle. What are we to make of Peter the Venerable's condemnation of the tendency of hermits to make themselves useful to their fel-low Christians by offering them the fruit, as it were, of their con-templative silence? Must we conclude that he, and Bernard as well, would censure the spiritual direction and parish activities in which some contemporary hermits get involved? Not necessarily. In their letters both authors emphasize--and we must keep in mind that they were writing to recluses, that is, to solitaries who in theory were totally cut off from the world--that the singularity of the eremitical life means that hermits will have to work out what is best for them. Therefore, while Bernard borrows from the cus-toms of the Carthusians to make all kinds of suggestions to Rainald about the details of his life, he realizes that it is up to the hermit to exercise discretion in choosing what suits him. Consequently, we can conclude that, although Peter and Bernard show that it is easy for hermits to delude themselves about why they are rendering this or that occasional service, it is up to them to determine, after Review for Religious taking counsel, what fosters their aloneness with God and what hinders it. I suspect that there are times when novice solitaries, going through a dark period, might welcome the sight of a few demons raising cain in their living room. They might even be glad to summon up the self-absorption required for the drama of a first-class identity crisis. Anything exciting and novel would be a relief. What they have to contend with, however, day in and day out, as Peter and Bernard remind them, is the subtle task of remaining faithful to their original commitment in all kinds of psychological weather. They have much to gain and much to lose. Peter the Venerable and Bernard of Portes, who shared a high regard for the solitary life, warn them, therefore, to take care. Notes ' Thomas Merton, "Notes for a Philosophy of Solitude," in his Disputed Questions (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1960; Noonday Book, 1976), p. 165. 2 A Rule of Life for a Recluse, trans. Mary Paul MacPherson, in The Works of Aelred of Rievaulx, Vol. 1: Treatises, The Pastoral Prayer, Cistercian Fathers Series, no. 2 (Spencer, Massachusetts: Cistercian Publications, 1971). 3 Neither the letter of Peter the Venerable to Ghislebert nor Bernard of Portes's letter to Rainald has, as far as I know, been translated into English. The Latin text and a French translation of Bernard's letter can be found in Lettres des premiers chartreux, Vol. 2, introduction, critical text, French translation, and notes by "un chartreux" (Sources chr~tiennes, no. 274; Paris: Cerf, 1980), pp. 50-79. For the Latin text of Peter's letter, see Giles Constable, The Letters of Peter the Venerable, Vol. 1 (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1967), pp. 27-41. November-December 2000 MARY BETH MOORE A Spiritual Direction Connie drew the heavy drape across the window, noting the ast gray light filtering from the west. She turned on a small lamp on one side of the room and lit the vanilla candle at the other. Immediately its aroma permeated the small space. She selected a Mozart disc from the handful of CDs near the love seat, placed it carefully on the turntable, pressed play, and adjusted the volume so that the maestro's graceful, precise notes were barely audible, as subtle as the candle. She paused, looking slowly to each corner until satisfied by the atmosphere she had created. Free of clutter, the parlor was just large enough for the love seat, chair, and coffee table. She sat down on the chair. Connie never sat until she was satisfied. She was a short, heavy woman and, since it was not easy for her to get out of a chair, she considered the act of getting into it. She had a few moments before her guest arrived, and this time was also planned. The guest or, more precisely, the directee required the kind of attention one must work up to. So she made an effort to appreciate the room for its own sake. She awaited the security these preparations usually brought. She summoned the attitude of inner peace which any directee had a right to expect of her, breathing deeply, ignoring the slight pulse in her legs, ankles, even noting the contradiction between attending to a pleas-ant carnal sensation--the candle--and determinedly shutting out the unpleasant. She made herself breathe. Connie had been a spiritual director for almost twenty years, Mary Beth Moore SC writes from 3496 Jerusalem Avenue; Wantagh, New York 11793. Review for Religious and people liked her. She had talent in this abstruse area, and she knew this because her directees said so. Most of her clients were nuns, participants in a lifestyle whose subtle conflicts she knew as her own, having been a nun now for forty years. Relationships: community, friends, principals, superiors. Even, occasionally, a romantic entanglement. And, of course, the relationship with God. Connie never told them what to do. She listened. She asked ques-tions. She recalled for the searcher his or her own best qualities. (Yes, even the occasional priest or layman found his way to her.) Generosity. Loyalty. Courage. Connie never mi~de these things up. Yes, that was the talent. Seemingly from thin air, she would recall a point the directee had made two months before, or ask precisely the right question. "What must you do to grow in this sit-uation?" The question was perhaps trite, but the answers never were. Stammering or articulate, passionate or cool, the directee usually responded with a perfectly credible plan of action, one whose truthfulness went to the heart of the matter. She had learned to expect the creativity that her directees brought with them. Still, Connie did not consider herself creative. She thought of herself as a modest person, and attributed the results to God's grace. When she looked in the mirror, she saw a face that had always been plain, and was now old. Of course, Connie had not once seen her own brown eyes transformed with the glow of the full attention she gave to the directees. They simply thanked her. She expected nothing more. At the sound of the doorbell, Connie took hold of the chair arms and, giving herself a boost, stood and steadied herself before crossing the short distance to the front door. She was pleasantly nervous for this encounter with her client, and she hurried as much as she could, knowing how uncomfortable it was to wait at her door. The Bronx brownstone faced southeast toward the Sound and Long Island, and through the winter a stiffwind blew almost steadily. She opened the door to see a petite woman framed against the dark corridor of the street, hopping around on the stoop to cope with the cold. The sky behind her was clear, but dark. The city lights obliterated all but the highest-hung stars. "Marilyn, my dear, come in quickly before the wind knocks you down." "It almost did. I parked a block away, and--" "Did you meet much traffic?" Connie took Marilyn's coat and shivered at the cold that rolled off of it. November-December 2000 Moore ¯ A Spiritual Direction "Som'e, as usual. The Cross Bronx is always crowded." "Oh, that's a terrible road. I always feel glad when I turn off. A cup of tea before we start?" "I would love it, if it's no trouble. It sounds so good." "No trouble at all. Go in and make yourse.lf comfortable. I'll be right back." She indicated the room she had just prepared, and waited to be sure her guest was seated before disappearing into the inner quarters to make tea. She returned with a tray and two steaming cups. They were silent as they fixed the tea to their lik-ing. Part of Connie's skill was to suppress small talk as the pre-lude to spiritual direction. Chatter cluttered the spirit, she believed. She had once lived as a hermit for three months, and the disci-pline served her well. After a suitable interval she moved to her cus-tomary opener. "So, tell me, what brings you to spiritual direction?" "Ah, yes. Well, I have the intuition, this notion. It haunts me and I feel almost, I don't know, maybe, embarrassed to share it. Or even ashamed--though maybe that is too strong a word. I've tried to discuss it, get a hold, but I." Connie listened as the other woman stuttered, and felt a tug of compassion. She leaned ever so slightly toward her, her eyes widening to lend support to the recitation. A sexual problem per-haps. Everything supposedly out in the open these days, but the unique turns of the human heart, and the struggle to articulate them! She waited. ". this notion, and others don't want to hear, or maybe can't hear. Almost a conviction actually." "A conviction that ." Connie was poised, waiting for the other to look up. "I don't want to offend you, as well. But I suppose it's foolish to come and beat around the bush. You see--" "'I assure you, my dear, I won't be offended. I'm eager to hear what you have to say." "A conviction that it's over. Over, over, over." Connie frowned, noted the slightest wave of impatience with the conversation's turn. "You'll have to tell me what 'it' is, I think." "This." She spread her hands as if her meaning should be obvi-ous, indicating the candle, the lamp, and Connie herself with thrusts of her chin. "Convents. Middle-aged women living in polite little groups, good-hearted, but accommodated. Comfortable. Convents, parlors, single beds, obsessive neatness, vanilla candles. Over." Review for Religious "Leave my candle out of it, at least," Connie said, more emphatically than she had intended. She was offended, but she did not realize it quite yet. "O.K. Your candle may be spared." Marilyn grinned. "But as for the other elements, well, the writing is on the wall." "Nebuchadnezzar? A kingdom about to fall?" Connie tried to get her bearings. The other's hesitancy had disappeared, her voice got stronger by the sentence, and Connie began to think that her earlier, tentative approach might have been a ploy. "Yes. That's exactly right, Connie. The humble kingdom we built for ourselves that did so much good. Children we taught, sick we nursed. It was a world in itself, a kingdom if you will. We had a place in a religiosity that was shared by Catholics every-where. In that Catholic world, we had a mystique of holiness, otherness. We were a cheap labor pool. Now others can do what we did, without living a special way of life." She took deep breath while Connie waited with alarm. "I believe our lifestyle is ending." Buy time. That was Connie's second idea, after the first one, something like, who do you think you are? Who are you, sup-posedly asking me for help, boldly upending a tradition? One that needs no defense. "I must keep eye contact," she thought. "Marilyn, too, is a committed religious, sincere, middle-aged, a seeker like myself." She was unused to such a strong emotion that was not compassion. She focused with effort. "Fall back on tech-nique," she urged herself. When she finally spoke, her voice was light. "Well, that's radical, for sure. Possibly a bit reductive. I'll need some time to take in the idea. But, in any case, you know that spir-itual direction does not provide answers. Why don't you tell me about your prayer. What's happening there?" "Connie, don't you see? That is what's happening. I pray, but I feel afraid. This sense of winding down . . . it, it assaults me. This is the result of my reading the signs of the times. And, very selfishly, I wonder what will happen to us. I'd actually like some-body to refute me." "'Prayer is the balance of mind and heart. Perhaps you think too much." November-December 2000 Moore ¯ A Spiritual Direction "Prayer is the balance of mind and heart. Perhaps you think too much." "Oh, maybe. It's just when I have an insight I always think it's correct. I'm not pious, either." Marilyn's voice had softened. Connie saw that she had heard her words as a correction, as in fact they had been. She had men-tioned fear, a key word in Connie's work, the rope binding the spirit, an adversary of growth. Usually Connie would have asked about it, but this evening it suddenly seemed like too much trou-ble. She was impatient, her back began to ache. She sought for a middle ground. "Or perhaps I think too little. You're a challenge to me, and I'm not sure if I can be as objective as I like. Can you"--she searched for the way back to Marilyn's point--"can you stay with the questions?" She got a little stronger. "Ride the questions." Marilyn thrust out her chin, as if shg regarded the question as an object in the room. There was a pulse of silence. "Yeah. That's a good idea." She smiled and looked at Connie with a glint of humor. "Good luck. I'll pray with you." There was a notable pause, and Connie sighed before turn-ing to topics of lesser import. Her back pain was easing, and she felt relieved that the conversation had returned to a manageable place. She was no coward. She had borne others' tears and rage at God. But a messy squabble with herself as partner was not at all congenial. She had put the balance back. She would pray with and for Marilyn. Both were careful to refrain from gossip in the spiritual-direc-tion setting; the set of those who chose such support was small, and many knew each other. Still, there were allowable facts--some-one's new job, an elderly sister's passing. And, after the intense discussion of the inner life, it was consoling to take in the mellow light and the full attention, each from the other. When they had finished the tea, and the candle wax threatened to spill on the table top, Marilyn moved to go. Connie helped her with her coat, saw her out into the cold air. The street was quieter now and a single star, maybe a planet, winked above the streetlights. She closed the door and went back to her direction room to turn off the light and blow out the candle. The wax had leaked onto the table into a viscous pool. "Ride the question," she repeated softly aloud to herself. She had been pleased to hit upon a phrase Revie~v for Religious that seemed to help her directee, but, as she turned it over in her mind now, looking at the empty room, it sounded trite, facile. The dialogue with Marilyn echoed in her mind, and a sensation rip-pled quickly, like the hint of an unpleasant duty she could not quite remember. She stepped away from the room with unusual haste and headed for the community recreation room and her favorite TV program. When Connie got to the community room, Sarah was watch-ing a public TV program--something about endangered species-- with the intensity of a graduate student. While she made eye contact with Connie, she held up a forefinger to postpone conversation until the program seg-ment ended. Connie sank into the chair and waited. She did not mind. It was more inter-esting to observe Sarah than to watch the parade of facts on the screen. She could easily see in the woman the ardent girl she had taught thirty years before, and, in her unsettled state of mind, that girl seemed to inhabit the room again. Sarah's field was biology, and she brought her expertise along with boundless energy to a nonprofit agency that monitored the environ-ment. Connie studied her with detached affec-tion. What was it that made Sarah so interesting? The combination of ambition and idealism, thought Connie. She was the perfect nun for our time. Connie mused about the effect of her own ministry. She had joined Sarah and the others in the brownstone house the year she finished her term as novice director. It had been her initiative to work free-lance in spiritual direction, and the community con-firmed' her choice. Her clients found her by word of mouth. She spent her day much as she had with the novices, in a disciplined but unhurried rhythm of prayer, study, and client appointments. It was Sarah who persuaded Connie to get a paying job two years ago. Some of the sisters in her own house had argued against it, but Sarah persisted. She pointed out to Connie that she com-plained about being the one to answer telephone solicitations and wait for plumbers. Sarah, the realist, reminded the community that their income base was shrinking, since the elderly sisters far outnumbered the younger wage-earners. Connie began to mind She could see in the woman the ardent girl she had taught thirty years before. November-December 2000 Moore ¯ A Spiritual Direction not having even a modest paycheck to present for the running of the house, and the quota for the retired sisters' care. The only thing she did not tell Sarah and the others was that she was tired of not having tales to "tell at supper about the outside world they inhabited each day. What could she say about spiritual direction? In that field there were no general issues, no little anecdotes, to report, only secrets of the heart whose value was discovered as the directee conferred it. So Connie took a job as the secretary in a little Catholic school in the Bronx. She bolstered the idealistic young man who was prin-cipal and lent an ear to the parents who rushed through with for-gotten lunches and umbrellas. She now had tales for the dinner table with the community, and savored even more the evenings of direction. She did not allow herself to miss the easy pace she had once enjoyed. She was often tired. She worried intermittently about losing weight, especially when Sarah inaugurated a new restric-tion in the community diet. She gave up insisting that they buy whole milk: it was not worth the commentary on cholesterol. But these were small .annoyances, predictable, familiar. If the occa-sional ache or pain pressed itself too deeply into her conscious-ness, her mind might leap to the future for a moment. But the pain subsided, or was integrated into what she chose to put up with. It was against her principles to measure herself by a worldly standard. She gazed at the TV for a bit, savoring the comfort of her (avorite chair until the program finished and Sarah pressed the mute button. "How was your day?" Connie asked. "Really productive," Sarah answered brightly. "I spent the morning editing that junior high 'natural city' curriculum. Jake did a great job with the project and I told him so. Then I had a meeting with the Friends of the Harbor committee. Giuliani's guy stopped in. Nice person actually, said he would continue to press our concerns with the mayor. He sounded sincere, but we'll keep the pressure on anyway. Peter was pleased." "Peter?" "Grossman, the earth sciences professor from Bronx Community College, that one who chairs--" "Oh yes, I remember him." Connie made it a point to keep up with the cast of cha[acters that peopled Sarah's offbeat job. "Did Jake's wife have the baby yet?" Review for Religious "Three days ago! I thought I'd told you. Mother and daugh-ter are doing fine." Sarah described the particulars of the birth in detail, then trained eager eyes on Connie. "How was your day?" Connie's mind returned to her session, where a seasoned nun had suggested that religious life would become a thing of the past. It was an abstract idea, after all. The common room she shared now with Sarah was perfectly real and stable. The house had been paid for. "Connie, your day?" Sarah's voice called her from her reverie. "Anything wrong?" "Wrong? Oh no." She hesitated. "Do you think about the future, Sarah? I mean our community. Do you think there will be nuns living in this house in twenty years? Youngish nuns, enthu-siastic like yourself, women who believe in prayer, the vows? Some of my directees"--she tried to be deliberately vague--"a few think our way of living is a thing of the past." Sarah frowned. "It could be, you know. Let's face it. No one has joined the community at all in the past five years, and those of us in it aren't getting any younger. It could be. But, hey, God our Mother will bring to birth something new. Birth, growth, decay, matter recycle into new growth. It's a universal process. Why should we escape it?" She reached for the TV wand."Do you want to watch anything else?" "You've thought about this?" "Oh, it crosses my mind now and again. Shall I turn this off?." Sarah waved the remote again. "Sure." Connie could see that Sarah was preparing to leave the community room, and a wave of desolation passed over her. She longed to call out, "Please don't go, yet," but she knew perfectly well such a request would startle Sarah. "She'd probably think I'm having some kind of attack," Connie thought. "What reason could I give for the need of her presence?" Nothing came to her. Sarah was at the door now, turning back, her gaze objective and ldnd. "You O.K., Connie?" "I'm just fine," Connie answered quickly. "Sufficient for the day is the trouble thereof." Sarah was satisfied. "Sleep well, then." "You too." Connie was alone now in the familiar room, and hothing could threaten her. Soon her strange moment of panic would pass, and she would move to her usual routine, fold back the newspaper, November-December 2000 Moore ¯ A Spiritual Direction enjoy the silence. She had an honorable job. She loved Sarah, and the others with whom she lived and shared an uncomplicated love of friendship. She scanned the headlines, then tossed them aside to read the Arts page, a book review, but she struggled to concen-trate. "Loneliness has no hold over me," she thought. Loneliness and solitude were the same companion in different dress, the bite of one and the consolation of the other alternating throughout her days. But the mood of release she sought at the end of the day still eluded her. She focused on the gratitude she must render for the events of the day, and recalled a grandmother who had come to the school to deliver a forgotten lunch. In her mind's eye she could see the weary black face transformed with smiles when the child hove into view. But, when the memory dimmed, a keen discomfort reasserted itself. She pushed through her rote evening prayer, "Now Lord you may dismiss your servant in peace, for my eyes have seen your sal-vation. A light of revelation to the Gentiles and a glory for your people Israel." Simeon, welcoming his life's end, having seen the object of his heart's desire. "He was lucky," she thought. The prayer did not seem to help at all. She turned off the light in the common room and made her way out by the light of the street lamp filtering through the blinds. She turned toward the kitchen. "A nice cup of tea," she thought. "It will clear my mind." She made the tea. She measured out her usual two spoonfuls of sugar, tasted it, then furtively added a third. She sipped it slowly and regarded the clock, whose subtle whine could be heard in the silence. "I tell my directees to face their fears. And so must I," Connie concluded. "What was it, then, old age?" But she dismissed this quickly. Maybe prettier, fitter women, yes, even nuns might struggle with this, but she had never known herself that way. She had long ago accommodated herself to aches and wrinkles. Nor was it fear of death. Not yet. Her mother, her aunts, stout women all, had lived into their nineties. "I probably have a few decades in me," she mused. What had Marilyn said? "It's over." That was the phrase that had ripped her, as if a web of equilibrium she hardly knew existed was torn, and its sundering had discovered a category of feeling she could not recognize. "Now, Lord, you may dismiss your servant in peace, because my eyes have seen your salvation." Simeon's words came back Review for Religious again, with the picture of the bearded sage, smiling and content, holding an infant whom he knew certainly to be the savior. Who did he think he was? "I'm jealous of him," she thought. And, since the habit of honesty was well established, Connie began to name the struggle. The child Simeon held had just been named Jesus, newly circumcised, accompanied by proud parents. She was jealous of Simeon's proximity, his luck to be in the right place at the right time. She was envious of the consolation of touch, the embrace that illuminated him, at once revealing the true iden-tity of the child. But most of all she was jealous of his certainty. As a young idealistic woman, and through all the vicissitudes of the years, she had fallen back on the certainty that she was doing God's will. And, just as the meeting with a newborn child had transformed Simeon from a bumbling old man into a prophet, so she had thought her lifestyle would transform her. She looked around the kitchen slowly, scrutinizing the cabi-nets, the fridge. Stalling. The fear she felt was not provoked by the encounter with Marilyn, but rather unmasked by it. Fear, raw fear, as when a young child is lost in a crowded arena. Connie placed both hands on the teacup and concentrated on the warmth that spread to her palms. She recalled, with effort, that she was an adult. But, slowly, understanding came to her. What was threatened was certainty and specialness. The fear in her belly suggested that she had bartered for those goods with the austerity of her lifestyle and her vows. Yet she herself had taught the basic truth of spiri-tual direction so many times: All that is not love must be rooted out. She could not blame anyone or anything external for her new situation. She sat thus at the kitchentable for a long while, and the tea, untouched, grew cold. By and by she simply admitted that an inner battle was just beginning; she might as well go to bed. Fear would come and go, and grief, too, must attend the process. She lay in bed, listening to the faint sounds of traffic, making an effort to yield to sleep in order to be ready for the next day. But, as she was poised on the mysterious shelf before consciousness falls away, a phrase floated up from the well of memory, a saying she would work with for months to come, "Though a bird be tied to earth by only a thread, still he cannot fly." November-December 2000 a witness response DENNIS j. BILLY Contemplative Religious Witness: A Redemptoristine Monastery At the end of each academic year, I leave my work at the Alphonsian Academy in Rome and spend the summer months as an author in residence at Mount St. Alphonsus, the Redemptorist retreat center in Esopus, New York. During my time there, one of the responsibilities I share with the other members of my community is to celebrate Eucharist at the nearby Redemptoristine monastery of Our Mother of Perpetual Help. This small community of contemplative nuns devotes itself to being what their 18th-century Neapolitan foundress, Maria Celeste Crostarosa (1696- 1755), called a "living memory" of the Holy Savior. My close contact with the sisters there has helped me appreciate more deeply the contemplative dimension of my own vocation. It has also helped me see the intimate relationship between the Redemptorist and Redemptoristine callings, two very different lifestyles-- one apostolic, the other contemplative--deeply devoted to a common charism of proclaiming "plentiful redemption" in Christ. Dennis J. Billy CSSR, a frequent contributor to this review, may be addressed at Accademia Alfonsiana; C.P. 2458; 00100 Roma; Italy. R~view for Religious Spousal Love As a community of women entirely dedicated to contemplation, the sisters at Perpetual Help Monastery maintain a spirit of separation but openness to the world around them. They follow the norms of papal enclosure as laid out in church law and interpreted by their Constitutions and Statutes, but do so with a keen sensitivity that their contemplative vocation places them at the very heart of the local church. In the spirit of Vatican Council II, they have also renewed their way of life to be more in keeping with the spirit and charism of their foundress. In doing so, they have attempted to adapt the contemplative life to the exigencies of North American culture while at the same time taking care to maintain the significant countercultural and eschatological witness that religious life in general and the contemplative life in particular seeks to convey. The result is a small but dedicated group of women religious whose lives are deeply immersed in the mystery of Christ and his body, the church. Verbi sponsa, the recent Vatican instruction on contemplative life and the norms of papal enclosure, describes cloistered nuns as becoming, with the Virgin Mary, "the 'living memory' of the church's spousal love" (§1). I could not read these words without thinking of the special meaning they would have for the Redemptoristines at Esopus and throughout the world. Mary's close.relationship to her Son places her in a position of humble service toward all who turn to her. "To Jesus through Mary" was the way St. Alphonsus de Liguori (1696- 1787) liked to express Mary's role in the economy of salvation. Everything she does is meant to lead us to a closer, more intimate relationship with her Son. Her loving and heartfelt fiat in Luke's Gospel reminds us that it could not be otherwise. Her response to the angel reveals a deep trust in God's trust in her. She became the Mother of God because of her spousal relationship with God, which was itself a gift from God to her and, through her, to all the world. When seen in this light, to be with Mary a "living memory of the church's spousal love" leads quite naturally (perhaps it would be better to say "supernaturally") to being a "living memory of the redeeming Christ." Each remembrance is a single dimension of a To be with Mary a "living memory of the church's spousal love". Ly-95---2 November-December 2000 Billy ¯ Contemplative Religious Witness much larger reality: you cannot have one without the other. Keenly aware of this connection, the Redemptoristines at Esopus proclaim their spousal love for their risen Lord at their daily Eucharist, where he eats with them, drinks with them, and caresses them with the gentle, calming breeze of his Spirit. A Eucharistic Community It is often said that something is not fully experienced until it is remembered. If this saying is true, then the Redemptoristines' desire to become a "living memory" of their Lord must foster a deeper experience of Jesus' presence in their hearts and in their midst. One need only consider the deep spirit of prayerfulness that fills their daily celebration of the Eucharist to see that this is so. These simple celebrations tap into the hidden life of contemplation going on in the deepest recesses of their hearts and reveal the height and depth and breadth of the paschal mystery. The daily Eucharist is the center of the sisters' lives. It immerses them in the mystery of God's love which their lives espouse and puts them in intimate contact with their risen Lord. The Eucharist reminds them of the "eucharistic quality" of the cloistered life itself (see Verbi sponsa, §3). Separation from the world enables the sisters to be present t6 the world on a much deeper level. It enables them to share not only in Jesus' life of kenotic self-offering, but also to join him in his eternal act of thanksgiving to the Father. This close connection between the Eucharist and the sisters' contemplative vocation touches the very heart of the redemptive mystery. It affirms Jesus' ongoing presence in their community and gives meaning to every dimension of their largely hidden life of prayer. The sisters' daily remembrance of Jesus is possible only because of Jesus' continual remembrance of them. They seek to be a living memorial to the living memorial he has left them in the Eucharist. They, more than anyone else I have met, take to heart Jesus' words "Do this in memory of me." In this light, life in the Redemptoristine cloister at Esopus takes on the threefold dimensions of banquet, sacrifice, and presence that characterize the mystery of every Eucharistic celebration. Being a "living memo~ry" of Jesus, in other words, means seeking to give nourishment to others (banquet) through a humble offering of self (sacrifice) in the name and in the company of Jesus, who is "Emmanuel, God wi~h us" (presence). The Review for Religious Eucharist, in other words, not only is the summit of their lives, but permeates everything they do. Without it, there is no way they could continue or even survive. From Death to Life I once had the occasion to experience this eucharistic quality of the sisters' lives in a profound and beautiful way. Sister Mary Regina, one of the sisters in the community, was nearing death after a long-drawn-out battle with cancer. This was happening at the very time I had been scheduled to lead the sisters in their annual ten-day retreat. After learning that Regina's death was drawing near, I fully expected the retreat to be canceled (or at least postponed), since the sisters' hearts were heavy with sorrow and their schedule was already overloaded by the "round the clock" attention Regina's condition demanded. I was ~urprised, therefore, to learn that the community wanted the retreat to go on, despite the added strain it would put on them. I was even more surprised (but also delighted) when, on the first day of the retreat, the prioress asked if it would be all right to celebrate Mass in the infirmary so that Regina could attend from her sickbed. That Eucharistturned out to be the last Regina would ever share in--at least on this side of death. The breaking of the bread took on special significance as we celebrated in the presence of one whose life was ebbing away. The nearness of death brought a special solemnity to our celebration. Regina's silence added depth to our words; her gaze, a quiet calm to our troubled, questioning hearts. The knowledge that she would not be with us much longer affected the way we prayed. Everyone in the room seemed to have one eye fixed on the Lord and the other one on her. And that was the way it should have been, the way the Lord himself wanted it. This was Regina's moment. With her community around her, she was free to be herself before her Lord. Firmly fixed on the host, her eyes told us in a quiet, nonverbal way that Jesus was with her in a way he had never been before. So it is, I believe, with all of us at or near the time of death. Each one of us must one day drink from the same cup. Now it was Regina's turn. Separation from the world enables the sisters to be present on a much deeper level. November-December 2000 Billy ¯ Contemplative Religious Witness Near the end of Mass, I looked around the room and experienced that sense of communion that can only come from hearts united by their common yearning for God. As my eyes moved from face to face, I could sense the pain that the community as a whole and each of its members was experiencing as a result of Regina's illness and imminent death. I could also sense the deep love that bound them to each other and, at this special moment, to Regina. In the midst of the sadness, my gratitude deepened and gave way to a deep sense of peace. The Lord was with us, and that was all that mattered. I closed my eyes and imagined myself in the upper room. The Heart of the Church Contemplatives, we are told, live at the very heart of the church. On this day I was grateful for this brief glimpse God had given me into the heart of a contemplative community. There the simple mysteries of life and death are recognized, pondered, and celebrated. There human existence is plumbed to its depths and experienced in all its wonder and heightened fragility. There the restlessness of the human heart forages in the darkness of divine mystery. There God is allowed to be God and is welcomed, however he chooses to come. Very few of us ai'e called to live as contemplatives in the heart of the church. Those who hear the call and respond to it often find that they have been driven to it by the relentless pursuit of a passionate divine Lover. Happiness would elude them anywhere else. Only there, in the cloister, can they give themselves exclusively to God with all their heart, mind, soul, and strength. Their hidden life behind their monastery walls is the visible reminder of what they have left behind--and journeyed into. So essential is it to the good of the whole that it recedes, almost by necessity, to the background of life's numerous surface activities. Like the heart itself, it is never seen, rarely heard, seemingly still, but always pumping. The heart, one might say, is an appropriate metaphor for monastic enclosure itself. Some of the most vital activity in the entire body takes place within the narrow, confining chambers of the heart. These otherwise empty cavities are formed by the inner contours of the heart's muscle fibers. The constant expansion and contraction of these tissues forces the blood through the chambers Review for Religious and creates enough pressure to make it flow throughout the rest of the body. In a similar way the empty spaces within the cloister are visibly shaped by the rules of monastic enclosure which, firm yet flexible, allow the life of the contemplative community to distinguish itself from the rest of Christ's body in order to perform for it a special function. Here the all-important apostolic dimension of the contemplative life comes to light. The contemplative community plumbs the depths of the Spirit so that the life of the Spirit may flow more freely to all the members of the body. Here the law of inverted magnitudes operates in full force. The contemplative community confines itself in time and space in order to open itself up to and move more deeply into the sacred. This simultaneous movement ("juxtaposition," if you will) of contraction and expansion is at the center of the contemplative experience. Although not everyone is called to live a life of monastic enclosure, all of us are called to foster a contemplative attihade toward life. For us to do so, this dynamic .movement of physical withdrawal and spiritual expansion must somehow come into play for each of us. Active and Contehaplative I began these reflections by stating that my contact with the Redemptoristine community at Esopus has given me a deeper appreciation of the contemplative dimension of my vocation as a Redemptorist, missionary. I also like to think that, in some way, the appreciation has been mutual, giving rise in them to a deeper sense of the apostolic dimension of their lives as contemplative religious. We share a single charism which, although expressed in drastically different lifestyles, brings to light the plentiful redemption wrought for us in the passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Contemplative religious, we have seen, live in the very heart of the church. The Redemptoristines, to my mind, do much the same for the apostolic mission of the Redemptorist congregation. Both orders, after all, share common origins and embrace the same motto: Copiosa apud eum redemptio ("With him there is plentiful redemption"). To follow the Lord in his work for the poor and most abandoned (as Redemptorists try to do) is closely tied to being a "living memory" of the risen Lord (as the sisters try to be). Each order focuses on a different dimension of the one redemptive mystery and, for this very reason, is intimately related to the other. Noventber-December 2000 My experience at Esopus has taught me that contemplative religious can best contribute to the apostolic mission of the church by simply being themselves and living whatever Rule they follow with patience, humility, and deep compassion. In doing so, they reveal the depth of their humanity and remind us of the intimacy we are all called to share with the divine. The eucharistic quality of their lives enables them to celebrate the present moment-- whatever it may bring--by sharing the gifts of self-offering and sensitive personal presence. Their life of solitude places them at the very heart of the church's life and ongoing mission. Their enclosed life offers the world a countercultural and eschatological sign of what is still to come, yet somehow already mysteriously present in the deepest recesses of the human heart. Like the Redemptoristines at Esopus, contemplative religious are called to lose themselves in the mystery of the divine in order to find themselves in the face of the very next person they meet. They plumb the depths of human experience in order to move more deeply into the sacred and live in intimate spousal union with their divine Lover. All of them are living reminders of the passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. All are visible expressions of the church's living memory of what took place in the person of Jesus Christ and takes place today in his body, the church. Theirs is a message for all times, all places, and all circumstances. Those who hear it will recognize the need to foster in themselves a contemplative attitude toward life. Those who do not will miss a unique opportunity to peer beneath the surface of life and behold, as never before, the innermost treasures of the human heart. Review for Religious ANDRI~ MAUREEN SOETE A Vowed Response to the Postmodern World Tphosetm choadrearcnte wriostrilcds asryem bpetionmgs s, taunddie rde aalnitdie ps roofb oeudr bsyo -sccailelend-tists, sociologists, anthropologists, philosophers, and theologians. All seek to understand the reality, foresee the consequences, and arrive at some satisfactory description and response. Since I am not a theologian, scientist, philosopher, or any of the above, I do not claim to understand this reality, much less propose responses. What I offer is simply my own response as a woman religious, specifically a School Sister of Notre Dame. The Situation of Our Age Postmodern issues have been touching us and coming into our consciousness for some time now. Our world is rapidly chang-ing, and what we once thought were objective, unchangeable real-ities are in fact changing. The "way to be" and the "way to do" for the present generation seems so different from our way. What can all this mean to SSND sisters and associates at this time? This time of change may feel like a breakdown. The world has become so different that we may not like it and may question Andr,~ Maureen Soete SSND has ministered in Japan for thirteen years. This article is the address she gave to an assembly of Japanese and North American School Sisters of Notre Dame in Kyoto on 9 January 2000. Her address is 11 ol Kawarada-cho; Matsugasaki; Sakyo-ku; Kyoto 606, Japan. November-December 2000 Soete * A Vowed Response the direction in which it is heading. Envisioning ourselves living in this new age, we may have the feeling that we do not fit, for what we understood as reality is being challenged. This is not just the usual generation-gap experience that we have all probably experienced from one side or the other. This phenomenon has been observed by many since the first hints of it in the 1970s and is obviously a real cultural shift. The choices for different lifestyles, the questioning of what we considered permanent values, and the challenges to our thinking are in some ways unnerving. We may catch ourselves longing for the good old days--the secure structures, the way students "used to be," and the way convent life was. It almost tempts us to choose to respond by retreating--by going back. These times are being described by the word chaos. Some of the chaotic things that people observe and study are political, eco-nomic, and social oppression; poverty, starvation, and unemploy-ment; the oppression of women; the ecological crisis; nuclear threat; secularism, materialism, and the failure of churches to renew themselves and inspire belief. Chaos causes a great deal of anxiety, but it also provides us with the moment and the call to rediscover our real story and our deepest roots. How Our Foundress Would Respond As followers of Mother Theresa Gerhardinger, we can ask ourselves how she would manage in this age, how .she would respond if she were alive today. We know that our answer would have something to do with our charism. What is it that she passed on to us that is ageless? What is the changeless essence that will survive these times and even give us the hope we need to go on? When we think of Mother Theresa responding to her time and day we think of a strong woman of prayer, a woman of God, a woman in touch with the reality and needs of her day, a woman animated and energized by the conviction that women can change the world, a woman who knew that, if people can change, the world can cMnge too. But at the root of all these images of her was her sense of God's desire and call "that all be one." She longed for the oneness of all in God. She was a woman willing to strug-gle for unity on every level. She could see unity in diversity, for she believed in the rights of individuals and the respect due to each person. She learned the Review for Religious lessons essential for real unity--lessons of love, respect, appreci-ation, tolerance, and trust--first from her own parents and later from her mentors Bishop Wittmann and Father Job. These were her models, inspiring her to foster the same values among her sis-ters and her society. It was her commitment to unity and her drive "to make one" that gave her tireless energy for mission, and could give us the same tireless energy. The Postmodern Age The academic world has come to use the term "postmodern" in an attempt to name this period of the world's history because this is the period in which people are reacting to all that is false and untrue, all that has not worked in our familiar modern age. In some way the choice of the name "postmodern" is like calling the butterfly a "postcaterpillar." "Postcaterpillar" might be a suitable name during the period when we observe that the caterpillar is no more, that what was once the caterpillar now seems dead or half dead, changing unaccountably. But once we see the beautiful creature with bright wings emerge, flutter freely, and take flight, we find ourselves calling it a "butterfly." Similarly, because of the lack of clarity about the future, schol-ars describe the present reality by noting changes from the earlier condition.When all of the characteristics of this age become clear and show some coherence, it will be time to give the new period a name. The world may not reach that point in our lifetimes, but I hope that all of us want to be a part of the creation of the new name. We can do that by appropriately influencing, shaping, and creating some of the characteristics that will emerge. I suggest that a principal characteristic must be unity. That same oneness that was Christ's mission and Theresa Gerhardinger's mission must be our mission too. Failure of the Modern Age The modern age promised us that by science and technology, by dividing the whole, dissecting and labeling every part, and con-trasting one thing with another, it could understand and solve the problems of our world and probe the depths of reality. It promised that the world would be controlled and developed and perfected, and that human beings would reach great heights. But science November-December 2000 [--~2 ¯ Soete ¯ A Vowed Response Our prosperity and plenty come to us on the backs of the poor and oppressed. itself has had to admit that the mysteries of the world are far beyond such probing; that our scientific advances have actually destroyed much of our world and have led us to live in fear of some scientific developments; that actually, in spite of all of our sci-entific progress, we have missed opportunities to expand and develop our spiritual and human potential and have inst(ad created horrendous human misery. MI of the human misery in the world today is a sign that these former beliefs are not working. When I think of the oppression, poverty, ecological recklessness, uncontrolled materialism, and other problems of our day, I can understand why a new generation rejects our old answers. When I hear dogmatic pronouncements from our churches or from our governments about how things should be and see that those very pronouncements bring about more division than unity and hope alnong peoples, I can understand why some of my own young nieces and nephews reject them as incomplete, irrelevant, without meaning in their lives. It is probably true that there have always been famines, always children abused, always conflicts among religious groups, always people oppressed and exploited and murdered--but we have not always known about them with such immediate clarity. Now, thanks to advances in technology, we do. We are informed immediately about what is happening around the world. And we know now what the prophets and economists have been telling us for a long time, that our prosperity and plenty come to us on the backs of the poor and oppressed. And now the poor and oppressed know that too. We can see all of the "signs of the times" on our nightly news programs. It is up to us to read them carefully, interpret them honestly, and respond accordingly. If society is not organizing itself so as to be inclusive of all citizens, but chooses rather to be exclusive, then the developments in the world around us must sig-nal that we are going in the wrong direction. If our lack of respect for our environment cries out to heaven and to us in its misery, if our land is no longer fertile, our water is befouled, and our air is poisoned--if we really see and recognize this, we must know that we are going in the wrong direction. Review for Religious If our neglect of the poor and downtrodden causes our edu-cation and healthcare systems to fail, and if our competitive cul-tures make the lives of many people miserable, then all of that neglect and competition must be the wrong direction. If the signs tell me that life the way we have thus far organized it is not work-ing, that nothing succeeds, that my actions effect disaster for oth-ers, I am obviously moving in the wrong direction. After recognizing all of this, what do we do? We must make choices in response to these signs. We can choose to be "the tired ones" who give up to let someone else lead the renewal. We can choose to be "the selfish ones" who create only our own security and pleasure. Or we can choose to be "the hopeful ones" who will look for new possibilities for ourselves and for the world. I want us to be the ones who choose to be hopeful. I think we must con-tinue to believe that human beings hold the potential to create a world that works for all peoples. Our Vows as a Response I think that as vowed religious we might bring new dimen-sions to the thinking about solutions to world problems and could radically affect outcomes--not by seeing ourselves as an elite group distanced from our neighbors by some holy and private choices, by mysterious vows of poverty, celibacy, and obedience, but rather by remembering--and letting ourselves be reignited by--the zeal with which I think we all made our first vows. I mean the per-sonal hope that we would change the world for the better, that we ourselves would bring with us the presence of Christ, that by sharing our love, faith, and hope we would make Christ visible and bring all the world to oneness in God. What happened to that most wonderful zeal and enthusiasm? I think that we religious need to ponder deeply the meaning of our vows and the witness our lives can give, must give, in con-trast to various trends and news events. I think of instances of environmental pollution, of trials for war crimes, of the terroriz-ing of ethnic and religious groups, and of the mother of a young child who could kill another woman's little girl. We seek to be effective in demonstrating hope and bringing it into our world. In a world where millions (including helpless children) suf-fer from the lack of such essentials as food, clothing, shelter, medicine, and education; in a world where people use their wealth November-December 2000 Soete ¯ A Vowed Response to produce more wealth so that they can live in a style that uses up the goods of the earth; in a world where people want more and more and give less and less to the laborers who produce the goods; in a world full of people who throw away and waste without even a thought--in such a world I have promised, we have promised, to use only what we need and to share everything we have. Are we keeping that promise? Would anyone who looks at us, our lifestyles, or our closets notice our choiceto do with less and our willingness to share? Would they be edified, stand in awe of the way that we are keeping our promise? In a world where groups of human beings look upon other groups as lower and with great intolerance seek to get rid of them; in a world where "ethnic cleansing," ways of death, become a way of life for some; in a world where nationalism means that free-dom to be intolerant of the differences of other races or peoples-- in such a world I have promised, we have promised, to love inclusively and to take on Jesus' own reverence and concern for all people, excluding no one. Are we keeping that promise? Would anyone who looks at us, at our way of being with the people with whom we live, at our way of being with the people at our place of ministry, notice our love, tolerance, and respect? Would they be edified and stand in awe of the way we are keeping our promise? In a world where the strong and influential make decisions for the weak; in a world where whole groups of people are not consulted about matters that affect vital areas of their lives; in a world where people are murdered because they disagree--in such a world I have promised, we have promised, to search for God's will and the right direction through dialogue and conversation, con-sultation and collaboration with all concerned. Are we keeping that promise? Would anyone who watches how we lead or partic-ipate in groups of students or teachers or coworkers notice our collaborative style or the way we listen to every person? Wotild they be edified and stand in awe of the way we are keeping our promise? What Then? I have spoken about our vows, emphasizing them as three promises because the term "vows" can sometimes be spiritualized and focused only on our commitment to God. In thinking about them as promises, I had a sense of a great possibility. I began to see Review for Religious that what we promise is more like a radical way that all human beings need to choose if we are to create a world where all people can live with dignity. I Wonder what might happen if we shared these choices of ours more openly among ourselves and witnessed to them more radically with our associates and with our partners in ministry. I am not so sure of our next step. I am not so sure how this small core of friends and others like us might have a good impact on our society and our world. But I think that somehow we can--and I challenge ourselves and others to come alive with that potential. "Striving for Unity" is our charism. We are supposed to be masters of it by now. Why, in our Japan Region alone, if we add up all of our years of religious life, we have more than three thousand years of our SSND lifestyle! I hope that we and others may gather together everyone's good insights and with them create for ourselves an exciting and real-istic dream as we step forward with God into this third millennium. Many of us will probably not be around when the next era gets its name, but--just as we prefer the word "butterfly" to "postcaterpillar" when thinking of the little creature's potential--would we not want the concepts of oneness, tolerance, collaboration, acceptance, and respect to be part of the name given to the next era? Are there initiatives for us to take, or can we at least support and encourage the wonderful people around us who are already dedicating their lives to this conversion and transformation of the earth? Is this not what we want to use our energy and ingenuity for? Is this not a way that we could use our positions as educa-tors and as ministers? Is this not worth the offering of the rest of our lives? We have promised to use only what we need. Are we keeping that promise? November-Decen~ber 2000 LAWRENCE F. BARMANN Mary Ward: Centuries Her Scroll examples from the past Today, amid questions about effective evangelization in the 21st century, about leadership and ~uthority in the Catholic Church, and about women's fuller participa-tion in these efforts and echelons, there is much that can and should be learned from Mary Ward at long last. During her lifetime four hundred years ago, she experi-enced much suffering and failure, but her full contribu-tion to the church and the world seems now to be only beginning. For religious in the United States and else-where who may know little or nothing of this extraor-dinary woman, I hope this article may provide a brief but warm introduction. The recent book I will be draw-ing from and citing is an excellent place to make fur-ther acquaintance with her goodness and truth. I refer to Mary Ward: Pilgrim and Mystic by Margaret Mary Littlehales IBVM) Mary Ward was an English gentlewoman, well-con-nected by birth, and related to many of those who were executed for their part in the ill-conceived Gun Powder Plot of 1605. She was born in Yorkshire in 1585, three years before the defeat of the Spanish Armada and four- Lawrence E Barmann is a professor of American studies and theological studies at Saint Louis Univ, ersity. His address is Humanities Building; 3800 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. Review for Religious teen years after Pope Pius V's bull Regnans in excelsis made techni-cal traitors out of all English Catholics who claimed allegiance to the pope by inviting them to dethrone Queen Elizabeth. So mar-tyrdom for the faith, or at least willingly accepted hardship for the ability to practice it, became the very atmosphere in which Mary Ward grew to adulthood. Such an atmosphere is often inducive to quick spiritual maturity, and in Mary Ward's case it certainly was. By the time she was sixteen, Mary Ward had developed a strong prayer life and the conviction that God intended her for the religious state in some form. Her parents thought otherwise, and Edmund Neville, heir to the earldom of Westmoreland, became her suitor. After Mary had gently rejected him, Neville became a Jesuit; and at twenty-one she persuaded her father to allow her to go to the continent to try her vocation to religious life. In 1606 Mary arrived at SaintoOmer in the Spanish Netherlands (now northern France), where English Catholics escaping persecution in their homeland had been migrating for decades. Through the advice of misguided confessors, she entered a Poor Clare convent, only to realize within a year that this was not where God intended her to be. In 1609 she returned briefly to England, where she seems to have gained some light about God's choice for her. Upon returning to Saint-Omer with a small group of English women about her own age, she set about doing for women's education what the Jesuits were doing for boys among the emigr~s. She called her community the Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and her specific intention was "to train English girls from Catholic families to be wives and mothers or religious, but all to be apostles for the faith in England." She was convinced that women were quite as capable of edu-cation as men, though she thought they did not need precisely the same courses. For Greek and Hebrew she substituted modern lan-guages, and for physical training, dancing. Moreover, she set about having her own followers trained to teach such things. In the patri-archal world and church of the 17th century, this was considered wildly innovative and thus suspect; and so the church authorities, who alone could approve her work as a religious institute, were to make Mary pay dearly for such innovation. Once, in 1617, after hearing a Jesuit priest comment on the work of her schools that, "when all is done, they are but women," Mary remarked calmly but with conviction: "There is no such dif- November-Decen~ber 2000 Barmann ¯ Mary Ward ference between men and women that women may not do great things . And I hope in time to come it will be seen that women will do much . What think you of this word 'but women'? but as if we were in all things inferior to some other creature which I suppose to be man." Mary Ward's convictions about this and much else were drawn not primarily from books and debates, but from her intense relationship with God and from his grace working through her wonderfully balanced and prophetic personality. As the schools grew and young women increasingly wished to join Mary Ward's community, she needed to settle on some rule of life. By 1611 already about forty women had cast their lots with hers. Both the local bishop and her confessor tried to force her to adopt either the Augustinian, Benedictine, Franciscan, or Carmelite rules. To these urgings she could only respond that "they seemed not that which God would have." These "English Ladies," as they were now commonly called by their supporters (or "Jesuitesses," by their detractors), could not have adopted any of those earlier rules for women and continue to do the work to which they were called; all four rules as they were applied to women in those days required canonical enclosure. Finally Mary Ward had her answer, and it was to lead to incredible suffering for the remainder of her life. To the papal nuncio in Cologne, Monsignor Albergati, she explained: About this time, in the year 1611, being alone in some extraordinary repose of mind, I heard distinctly not by sound of voice, but intellectually understood, these words: "Take the same of the Society"; so understood as that we were to take the same both in matter and manner, that only excepted which God by diversity of sex hath prohibited. These few words gave so great a light in that particular institute, comfort and strength, and changed so the whole soul as that it was impos-sible for me to doubt, but that they came from Him whose words are works. Mary Ward's conviction that God intended her to adopt the Jesuit Rule to her institute of religious women and to do her spe-cial work in the world rather than in a cloister was what 17th-cen-tury western Europe obviously needed if it were to remain at all Catholic. But it was a conviction far in advance of the convictions of most of the male authorities in post-Reformation Rome. Furthermore, the Jesuits had managed to incur the jealous wrath of the secular clergy in England, and these latter pursued Mary with calumnious accusations simply because she intended to estab-lish a female religious congregation based on Jesuit principles. Review for Religious These calumnies found a ready hearing in Rome. The Jesuits them-selves were ambivalent about her institute, sometimes being extremely helpful and sometimes joining the enemy. In 1622 Mary Ward finally met the Jesuit general, Mutius Vitelleschi, who was deeply and permanently impressed by her. Henceforth the Jesuit general would instruct his men to be supportive of Mary's work and gracious to her, short of such involvement as might lead to a sort of second order--something St. Ignatius Loyola had strictly for-bidden. Meanwhile Mary's institute had established schools not only in Saint-Omer, but in Liege and Rome, and would soon have houses in Naples, Perugia, Munich, Vienna, Pressburg, and elsewhere. Mary herself, always of delicate physical constitution, went back and forth across the Alps, mostly on foot, frequently in winter and in the midst of the Thirty Years War, in order to strengthen and encourage her followers; while at the same time she worked tirelessly to gain the necessary support of bishops, the Roman curia, and the pope, for the approval of her institute. The number of high-placed clerics who opposed her for reasons that had nothing to do with reli-gion, or even good sense, always outnumbered those who sup-ported her. The bishop of Vienna, for instance, wrote to Rome in 1628 to complain that the English Ladies had opened a school there without his peymission (though they had the emperor's per-mission and he had even given them a house and funds) and that the girls in Mary Ward's school had actually performed publicly in a comic school play! With the Catholic religion collapsing in central Europe, a bishop's jealousy of his rights against the only Catholic ruler of any weight in the region would ultimately prevent the Catholic education of young women in the empire. Of popes with whom Mary had to deal, Urban VIII, who would condemn Galileo at Mary Ward's conviction that God intended her to adopt the Jesuit Rule to her institute of religious women was what 17th-century western Europe obviously needed if it were to remain Catholic. November-December 2000 Barmann ¯ Mar~ Ward about the same time that he condemned Mary Ward, was the most duplicitous. She first had an audience with Urban in 1624, in which she pleaded for approval of her institute and in which Urban smiled and smiled and totally misled her about his intentions. Eventually he ordered the suppression of all of her houses and the dissolution of her institute, and this merely on the basis of English clerical calumnies and calumnies spawned by the hurt pride of ambitious continental clerics. Mary herself was eventually imprisoned as a heretic in a Poor Clare convent in Munich, by order of the Roman Inquisition. There she nearly died, though she so impressed the resident Poor Clares that they knew she was anything but a heretic. Meanwhile, her followers were being systematically driven from their houses and were mostly on the verge of starvation. Having at length been released from prison, Mary set out at the end of 1631 for Rome in order to clear her good name for the sake of what she hoped might be the future of her institute. Kneeling at Urban's feet she burst out, "Holy Father, I am not nor ever have been a heretic." At which the pope interrupted, "We believe it, we believe it; we need no other proof." He also allowed the institute to continue (under private vows) in Rome and under his protection. In 1637 Mary Ward set out again for England, though it would be May of 1639 before she actually got there. She sought a letter from Pope Urban to give to Queen Henrietta Maria to gain the queen's support for her institute. The letter Mary received speaks of her as "one much esteemed in Rome both for her well-known qualities and piety, which will without doubt cause Your Majesty to see and hear her." This was the same Rome which, only half a dozen years earlier, had imprisoned her as a heretic and decreed the destruction of her life's work. The queen did receive Mary gra-ciously, but within a year the country would be in the throes of political ttirmoil that would end in civil war and the execution of the king. Without completely abandoning her hope of establishing a school in London, Mary went north to Yorkshire in 1642, and there she died at Osbaldwick, a short distance from the city of York, on 20 January (old style) 1645. After her death Mary Ward's institute did in fact flourish, and finally, in 1977, after a wait of 366 years, the Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary was able to realize Mary Ward's original insight and founder's charism by adopting the Jesuit Constitutions, and with the blessing of the Jesuit general, Pedro Arrupe. Margaret Mary Review for Religious Littlehales's study of Mary's Ward's life reveals many things. It reveals the costliness, but also the great happiness, of completely abandoning oneself to God. It also demonstrates that, within the external church structure, official authority can be quite wrong, but probably less so in proportion to the genuine humility of its wielders. Mary Ward's life demonstrates incontrovertibly that God's intended purposes are often achieved through the near annihilation of the human instruments of that achievement. Christians should not be surprised by this, for such was the case with God's own Son. Contemporary religious, both men and women, can find great encouragement and inspiration in the life of this saintly English woman. Dorothy Day did, and she even titled her own autobiog-raphy with a remark Mary Ward once made as she pondered what lay ahead of her as a young woman bent on seeking only God's will--"the long loneliness." Note 1 Margaret Mary Littlehales, Mary Ward, Pilgrim and Mystic, 1~8Y- 164~ (Tunbridge Wells, England: Burns and Oates, 1998). Pp. 272. £18.95. Patrimony my patrimony is a deity unknown whose name I cannot pronounce communicated to me in stuttering speech, in fits of temper and in weeping, in so many questions unleavened by answers in silence and in absence by those struck dumb and those afraid to speak Sefin Kinsella November-December 2000 STAN PARMISANO St. Catherine's Letters: Human Love, Gracious Authority One level of St. Catherine of Siena, perhaps her deepest, is revealed in her Dialogue.' But this great work, whether in the original or in proper translation, is strange fare for many mod-ern readers. Its subject matter--mystical union with the Trinity in and through Christ--is high and heavy and, I should think, attractive only to the relatively few seriously intent upon such union. Its language often includes words and phrases borrowed from the scholastic theology of the day, though Catherine's orig-inal genius keeps breaking through, giving new form to old mat-ter. The book is also rife with personification and allegory (Christ the Bridge, the Tree of Life, Vineyard of the Soul, and so forth)-- fun for the medieval reader, but dry and tedious for today's read-ership. Also, in the Dialogue Catherine is quite formal and impersonal. The lively, dynamic personality recorded in history is certainly there, but it has to be searched out, for it is hidden in the shadow of the great Truth she labors to expound. She herself is merely un'anirna in the mighty presence of her God. Her letters are a different matter.2 They are personal--writ-ten not by an anonymous "soul," but by the flesh-and-blood Catherine. Io Caterina rings throughout, addressed not to people in general, but to here-and-now individuals. The letters evoke wide and popular interest. They deal with Catherine's own life Stan Parmisano OP wrote about theology and faith in our September- October issue. His address remains Saint Albert's Priory; 5890 Birch Court; Oakland, California 94618. Revie'a, for Religiou, and visible experiences and with details about life around her, social and political as well as spiritual. Their language is not borrowed from or freighted with outmoded rhetorical devices, but is pleas-ingly spontaneous and informal, as alive today as in Catherine's own time. On the whole the letters are original. They are Catherine, in every vibrant word and phrase--simple, nuanced, various, alive with passion for the truth, and the truth in particu-lar situations. They are "unliterary," to be sure, for they were talked, not written, by our unlettered saint, but they are clear and coherent, direct and firm, though also tactful. Catherine sometimes digresses, loses the train of her thought, but she never really rambles on or gossips. She has little time for light conversation ("Let us run, let us run, for the time is short!"), and her central point is almost always clear and precise. Though each of her letters is unique, many of them fall into a common pattern. They begin with Jesus, and with Catherine as the slave of the servants of God--never, for Catherine, a mere pious formula, but always freshly genuine. Then she often seems to lose herself in the contemplation and exposition of one of the mysteries of faith, which, however, turns out to be pertinent to the subject of the letter. Soon she comes to the question at issue, and, if in the initial paragraphs she was high and spiritual, peacefully contemplative, now she is very much the active apostle dealing practically and in detail with earthy mat-ters. She ends with statements of love and concern for her corre-spondent, placing all in the hands of God: "Bathe you in the blood of Christ crucified. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love." The letters reveal the breadth as well as depth of Catherine's concerns, and her marvelous ability to adapt, with no compromise of ideal, to various situations and personalities. To a little niece she writes in gentle, childlike simplicity about the wise and foolish virgins in the Gospel and the lamps they bear: "Do you know what this means, my daughter? By the lamp is meant our heart, because a heart ought to be like a lamp. You see that a lamp is wide above and narrow below, and so the heart is made to signify that we ought always to keep it wide above through holy thoughts and holy imaginations and continual prayer; always holding in mem-ory the blessing of the Blood by which we are bought . I said . simple, nuanced, various, alive with passion for the truth, and the truth in particular situations. November-December 2000 Parmisano ¯ St. Catherine's Letters that a lamp is narrow below, and so is our heart: to signify that the heart ought to be narrow toward these earthly things--that is, it must not desire or love them extravagantly, nor hunger for more than God wills to give us" (letter no. 23). To Alessa, as to other of her women disciples, she sends prac-tical advice about the religious life, which is to be lived "both with and without moderation . For love toward God should be with-out measure, and that for creatures should be measured by that for God, and not by measure of one's own consolations, whether spiritual or temporal." And how manage this? "Make two homes for yourself, my daughter: one actual home in your cell, that you go not running about into many places, unless for necessity, or for obe-dience to the prioress, or for charity's sake; and another spiritual home, which you are to carry with you always." This last, she con-tinues, is "the cell of true self-knowledge," embracing both the knowledge of God and the knowledge of self, "two cells in one. ¯ and when abiding in the one you must abide in the other, for oth-erwise the soul would fall into either confusion or presumption. For, if you rested in the knowledge of yourself, confusion of mind would fall upon you; and, if you dwelt in the knowledge of God alone, you would fall into presumption" (no. 49). Still within the uncompromising truth and love of Jesus, but with some relevant adaptation, she writes in a much different vein to Sir John Hawkwood, the English soldier of fortune who was the scourge of the Italian city-states. She begs him to leave "the service and pay of the devil., and take the pay and the cross of Christ crucified." He is a soldier; let him remain such, but let him now become Christ's knight: "I beg you, then, gently in Christ Jesus, that, since God and also our Holy Father have ordered a crusade against the infidels and [since] you take such pleasure in war and fighting, you should not make war against Christians any-more-- for that is wrong to God; but go against the infidels. For it is a great cruelty that we who are Christians, and members bound in the body of Holy Church, should persecute one another." And she concludes abruptly but quite aptly with a subtle undertone of warning against his soldiering altogether: "I beg you, dearest brother, to keep in memory the shortness of your time." Her final words are as usual: "Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love" (140). To that formidable woman of the world Queen Joanna of Naples, who first sided with Clement, then Urban, then with Review for Religious Clement again in their rival claims on the papacy, Catherine writes in a similar manner, but with deeper sorrow and fiercer passion: "Dearest Mother--mother, I say, insofar as I see you to be a faith-ful daughter of Holy Church--it seems to me that you have no mercy on yourself. Ah me! because I love you I grieve over the evil state of your soul and body. I would willingly lay down my life to prevent this cruelty. Many times I have written to you in compassion, showing you that what is shown you for the truth is a lie; and the rod of divine justice., is ready for you if you do not flee so great a wrong. It is a human thing to sin, but perseverance in sin is a thing of the devil . Be merciful, ah, be merciful to yourself]. I say no more to you. Remain in the holy sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love" (348). She writes differently to Gregory xI than at a later date she would write to Urban vI. Gregory was weak and vacillating, and so in her letters to hi~n she exhorts him to be "manly" and firm in his high office of supreme pontiff: "Be manly in my sight, and not timorous . I, Catherine. write you in his precious Blood, desiring to see you a manly man (uomo virile) without any servile fear." And, when Gregory hesitates in his resolve to return to Rome for fear of being poisoned there, Catherine reminds him that there are other, more terrible kinds of poison; and at any rate there's as much poison "on the tables of Avignon . as on those of Rome!" (229, 239). Urban, on the other hand, from the start of his pontificate was already betraying that spirit of anger and vindictiveness that would end in personal revenge, violence, and mt~rder. One had written to Catherine after the election of Urban: "It seems that our new Christ is a terrible man." In her first letter to him, Catherine appears to be aware of this and shapes her words accordingly: "Next I beg you, and constrain you by the love of Christ crucified, as to those sheep who have left the fold--I believe for my sins-- that, by love of that Blood of which you are made minister, you delay not to receive them in mercy, and with your benignity and holiness force their hardness; give them the good of bringing them back to the fold, and, if they do not ask it in true and perfect humility, let Your Holiness supply for their imperfection. Receive from a sick man what he can give you" (291). Religious life is to be lived "both with and without moderation." November-December 2000 Parmisano * "St. Catherine's Letters She writes to William Flete and other hermits at Laceto a gem of a letter begging them to leave for a time the peace and quiet of their forest retreat and come to Rome on pilgrimage in support of Urban. She desires them so to lose themselves as to seek "nor peace nor quiet elsewhere than in Christ crucified." If out of piety they are loath to leave their solitary life, they must know that there are woods and forests aplenty in and around Rome! (326). To Raymond of Capua, her Dominican soul brother and dearest friend, she writes in every which way: tenderly, pas-sionately, in joy, in anger; now as a scolding mother, now as his obedient daughter, now reproving him for cowardice and want of faith, now exposing her own weakness and want of love. And, often uncomfortably for Raymond, always she wants him together with herself to die a martyr: "I tell you, sweetest Father, that, whether we will or no, the time we are living in enjoins us to die, so do not live any longer." (333). Catherine's Human Love This last suggests one of two facets of Catherine's personality that may prove especially problematic for the modern reader of her letters, namely, the quality of her human love. The spontane-ity, passion, naturalness, and totality of her love for the Person of Christ is beyond question: she is quite literally consumed, body and soul, with love for Him, who is mad (pazzo), drunk (ebro) with love for her. But, when it comes to lesser*folk, her native inclina-tions seem to be oversupernaturalized, and her love may appear forced and lacking in the milk of human tenderness and warmth and understanding. This would explain the extreme discomfort she experiences when ordered by the Lord to leave her solitary life and give to others the same love that she gave to

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

Issue 39.6 of the Review for Religious, November 1980. ; The Fot~rth Level of Prayer Developmental Stages and the Novice Limits of Adaptability of the Exercises Volume :~9 Number 6 November 1980 REVIEW ~:OR Rrl.J~aOt~S (ISSN 0034-639X). published hi-monthly (every two months), is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Departmenl of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room a,28:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri, © 1980. By R~v~w FOk RFa.~¢aous. Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis. Missouri. Single copies: $2.(X). Subscription U.S.A.: $8.1XI a year; $15.00 for two years. Other countries: $9.00 a year. $17.00 fi~r two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write R~v~w I;Ok R~-:~,~;~ot;s: 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 November, 1980 Volume 39 Number 6 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manu~ripts and books for review should be sent to REw~:w ~on R~:~AG~OUS; 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 repr.ints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. The Benedictine Call to Judgment James M. Desche~e, O.S.B. Brother James has written this article especially to celebrate the 1500 anniversary of the Benedic-tines. His last article, "Journey into Christ," appeared in the issue of July, 1980. He resides at Christ-of-the-Hills Monastery; P.O. Box 32849; San Antonio, Texas 78216. Make no mistake about the age we live in; already it !s high time for us to awake out of our sleep., the night is far on its course., day draws near. (Rm 13:11,12). Despite the Lord's command to comfort the afflicted, one cannot help but be struck by the frequency with which the Lordhimself afflicts the comfort-able. Despite our very human tendency to seek peace and security, one cannot easily forget (for the Lord will not permit it) that Christ came "not to send peace, but a sword" (Mt 10:34). When, like ancient Israel, we have come to prefer the security of enslaved lives, the Lord, ever perverse in his grace, calls us out of our comfortable slavery to wander in a desert of freedom, exiled from security and peace. ¯ Wandering.in that terrible place, we long with all our hearts to be back in the dreary mud pits of Egypt, preferring the dry but dependable crusts of slavery to those fierce, unsatisfied hungers we discover within us as we sojourn in the desert of fre~edom.and ~of judgment. Whatever the pain of crises in our lives, we must never forget that the crises themselves are divine gifts. The Greeks, who had a word for everything, gave us the word crisis. But they wisely knew (as we often do not) that the word, while it involved pain, really meant a time of challenge and judgment, an opportunity to-measure and evaluate and change. For the Christian, crises are moments in which God confronts us with truths we had preferred not to see, with realities we have chosen to ignore, with decisions we have refused to make. For the Christian, a crisis is a 801 802 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 moment--albeit painful--of deepest grace. For a Christian who has become settled in a life of slavery to routine and superficial existence, a moment of crisis is a moment of salvation and an opportunity to regain touch with th~ deep roots of being, to be enlivened and energized by a return to life and grace. Just as there are moments of crisis ! of j udgment-- in each human life, so are there moments of crisis in each human generation and in each human society. This is the human condition: to stand--as an individual and as a race--at eve.ry moment in need of judgment and of conversion, in need of redemption and of new life. It is his recognition of this condition--and of Christ's lordship over all our crises--that prompts Saint Paul to call us to judgment: "Make no mistake about the age we live in; already it is high time for us to awake out of sleep." Paul's word, translated here by "high time," is the Greek kairos, with its sense of urgency, of.opportunity, of occasion. The word for Paul usually suggests a critical time (a time of judgment), a God-filled moment of salvation, an end and a beginning. Fifteen hundred years ago was born a man whose wisdom in crisis was to have an incalculable influence on the history and life of our. western world. Benedict, born around the year 480 in the small Umbrian town of Nursia in the Apennines, found himself thrust into a world in crisis. The old Roman Empire and its social fabric were f~lling into ruin around this young man. Rome itself narrowly escaped attack by Attila the Hun in~452 only to be sacked a few years later by the Vandals. Nor was the Church im-mune from crisis. In 451, churchmen struggling over the doctrinal issue of the two natures in Christ met in council at Chalcedon. The results were a victory for dogma but a defeat for Christian unity, giving rise to the two schisms of the NestOrians and the Monophysites, and planting the seeds of the great disunity between east and west that were to bloom prodigiously in the later Middle Ages. In brief, it was an age not unlike our own. Into the crisis of his age entered this man Benedict who wisely allowed the larger crises of his time to become one with his own personal moment of crisis, of judgment and of salvation. In the person of Benedict, in fact, a judgment is passed upon the age itself: "Even while still living in the world, free to enjoy all it had to offer, he saw how empty it was and turned from it without regret" (St. Gregory the Great: Dialogues, H, Preface). It is the genius of Saint Benedict, and the special mark of his,holiness, that this judgment, while never compromising itself, always avoids the taint of the puritan harshness we of later generations have come to expect in those who renounce the world. Instead, as we discover in the Prologue to his Rule, Benedict's judgment is filled with goodness and grace, with charis as the ancients knew it, sounding clear notes of kindliness; graciousness and mercy. Benedict calls his advice that of a "loving father" and finds only joy in the~call to judgment: "What can be sweeter to us, dear brothers, than this voice of the Lord inviting us? Behold, in his loving kindness the Lord shows us the way of The Benedictine Call to Judgment / 803 life" (Rule, Prologue). As the monk confronts the crisis of his own life, any hardness results from the very hardness and smallness of his own heart. But in crisis, the Lord stands ready to give the monk a neff heart and with this growth comes an ineffable joy: "For as we advance in the religious life and in faith, our hearts expand, and we run the way of God's commandments with unspeakable sweetness of love" (Rule, Prologue). In its essence, the monastic or religious life as Benedict understands it is a call to judgment, a call to be ever open to the voice of the Lord, a vocation to enter into each and every moment of crisis with the faith tha, t God is present in that moment to recreate and renew our hearts and our lives. The great enemy to this vocation is hardening the heart: "Today if you hear his voice, harden not your hearts." And Benedict's remedy for this is sounded in the opening of his Rule: "Listen, my son, to your master's precepts, and incline the ear of'your heart." For Benedict this is no poetic fancy. To listen, to incline the ear of the heart, is exactly what is meant by obedience. "By the labor of obedience you may return to him from whom you had departed by the sloth of disobedience" (Rule, Prologue). Obedience, to the Latin ear ofSaint Benedict, always carried a message we easily miss in the English word. Obedience (from ob +audire) has to do with listening, with hearing, with attending to. It involves an openness and a sensitivity to the voice and,the, will of the Lord speaking to each person in each situation. To obey is tobe wholly open and submissive to the Lord in crisis; it is to be ever willing to enter into crisis because that is .where the Lord will be found at that moment. It is a willingness to allow the Lord tobe our judge, to have his way with us. It isa willingness to let one's,heart be broken, if that is the Lord's will. It is to. hold back no part of one's life,ands'being from the Lord of all life and being. To obey is to be wholly the Lord's creature, Benedict clearly indicates that it is in obedience that the monk finds a deep stability when he quotes from the Gospel the words: "Whoever listens to these w~ords of mine and acts upon them, I will liken him to a wise man who has built his house on rock. The floods came, the winds blew and beat against that house, and it did not fall, because it was founded on rock" (Rule, Prologue). When we are in crisis, security and stability appear to lie in avoiding the critical issue. When .the Lord calls.us out of slavery into the desert, slavery doesn't look so bad. Only the0deepest faith and the deepest trust in the Father's love can teach us to face the crisis, to enter into judgment, to listen to and obey the voice that calls us into seeming desert and chaos and.ruin. For Benedict this faith and trust are reflected in the words: "In his loving kindness the Lord shows us the way of life." What appears to be a way of death is really the way of life. One of the.practical ways Benedict provides to his monks for learning this deep trust in the Father's unfailing love is the office of the abbot; the abba who incarnates among the monks the Father himself. It is by his obedience to the abbot that the monk learns obedience to the Father. Indeed, it isin his obe- 804 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 dience to the abbot that the monk is obedient to the Father. Yet Benedict is careful to remind the monk that obedience-- in its radical sense of openness to crisis and the will of God expressed in concrete situations--is not limited to the relationship between a monk and his abbot. The monk is to recall that he must be obedient to all his brothers. "Not only is the boon of obedience to be shown by all to the Abbot, but the brothers are also to obey one another, knowing that by the road of obedience they are going to God" (Rule, Chapter 71). The call to crisis involves every member of the community. No one is to be denied our obedience--our listening, our sensitivity, our responsiveness. Every crisis between Christians, whether they be monks or not, is a God-filled kairos, a time of salvation. In light of the foregoing, it may be objected by some that this appears to be a diminution of the force of the vow of obedience. I have avoided all the juridical and legal aspects of the vow. Yet I have done this purposely, and for two reasons. First, the vision I find in Benedict of obedience is deeper, stronger and more demanding than. any purely juridical concept. Indeed, it is possible (perhaps even common) to find juridically conceived obedience an effective means of escaping real crisis, real judgment and encounter between the monk and the Lord. Secondly, a purely juridical view limits our considera-tion to those who are juridically bound by a vow. Yet Benedict's view of obe-dience is no less applicable to every Christian man and woman than to monks. All are called to crisis, to judgment. No Christian is exempt from this demand nor from the demand of obedience to each of his fellow Christians. Nor is any Christian exempt from the demand Benedict makes by the vow of conversatio morum, usually translated as "conversion of manners" or "reformation of life." For in its most profound sense, this vow is essentially a radical call to crisis, to judgment. It requires that at every moment we respond to the voice of the Lord calling us to newness of life. Today's response may have to be relinquished to tomorrow's response. Our hearts must be continu-ally open to each new judgme.nt and call from the Lord. We are not to settle down, not to set camp in the desert, but to be continually on the move. There is no standing still in the service of the Lord. Endless conversion, perpetual metanoia, are the marks of a truly living Christian. To guarantee that the monk will not be tempted to escape this demand of endless reformation and endless conforming to the living will of God as revealed in crisis and discovered by obedience, Benedict adds the third vow of stability. By this the monk renounces his right to escape God's demands in the present moment and circumstances by moving into other circumstances. Run-ning away is not permitted the monk and so there is nothing for him to do but to submit to the divine crisis and know it is God's will that he submit. From the day of his profession, the monk is assured by God's promise that it is here, among these particular persons,, that God will confront him in crisis. To flee from these brothers, then, is to flee from God and his call. (I do not wish here to enter into the problematical issues of canonical transfer of stability or of The Benedictine Call to Judgment / 805 departure from the monastic life, though these deserve fuller treatment in light of what has been said here.) One of the last points to consider in Benedict's vision of the Christian life authentically lived is the place of humility. A close examination of his chapters on hi~mility reveals that humility has a great deal to do with truthfulness. It has to do with facing the truth about ones.elf. It has to do with seeing oneself for what one is. It is a virtue of utter and radical realism. Above all, its end is tosee oneself as God sees one. It involves looking at fearful truths intently and steadily, refusing to turn away from them, until by grace and work, all fear is transformed into love and "the monk will presently come to that perfect love of God which casts out fear" (Rule, Chapter 7). Humility is thus related to crisis; it helps us to face crisis, to endure judg-ment, to bear the truth. It also enables the monk to be of assistance to his brothers in their need to face crisis. The monk serves his brother by being perfectly truthful, by obscuring nothing of his own weakness or sin and nothing of his brother's weakness and sin. Humble monks do not support one another in self-deception. Equally importantly, the monk is alway.s ready, in humility, to take from the moment of crisis the truth of his own goodness and to affirm the same in his brothers:.Humility is the readiness to admit the truth as it is revealed at every moment. This is particularly seen in the requirement that the monk hold back nothing about himself from his spiritual father. Every selfish thought, every petty jealousy, every twinge of hatred--all must be laid without hesitation before the spiritual father. In this way, spiritual direction for the monk becomes in the truest sense a crisis and a moment of salvation. Nothing of Benedict's vision is without relevance to the life and growth of every Christian. In this fifteen-hundredth year of Saint Benedict's gift to Christianity, it must be seen that his gift is a gift to all men and women who seek the Lord. The gift of his monks is to be bearers of crisis. The monk must live in such a way that the world may never forget that Christ is Lord. The monk must live in such a way that the values of the world, insofar as they are opposed to the values of Christ, are absurd and empty. Benedict's sons and daughters must see that their lives bring a continual judgment on the lives of all men and women; that their lives are lived in a way that proclaims the power of truthfulness, of humility, of obedience. The monk must live his life in such a way that it would make no sense if there" were not a loving Father guiding and ruling all things. It is this "senselessness" that can bring the world into crisis, into facing the truth of its own empty values, its own abandonment of God, This is the Benedictine crisis, this call to judge the world not by condemn-ing or rejecting it, and certainly not by fleeing it; but by living every moment in such a way that the world must face the question of God's rule and the reality of his kingdom. Our criticism must lie, like Benedict's, not in speaking against the world (though this too has its place), but by the positive and grace-filled 806 / Review for Religious~ Volume 39, 1980/6 living of our lives in truth, in love, in brotherhood, in simplicity, in peace: In our time, perhaps more than ever, this is the task to which Benedict's monks and nuns are called, For all of us it is a time of crisis, of asking whether weare really doing what Saint Benedict interided. To answer this question, we do not 'need to examine our effectiveness. For our effectiveness lies entirely in our observance of the Rule and spirit of Saint Benedict. It is by being witnesses to God's kingdom that we shall have our effect, and this witness lies in our fidelity to the principles we have briefly looked at~here: obedience, continual reformation, stability, humility. For fifteen hundred years the presence in the world of Benedictine monks has been a sign and a challenge, a judgment and a question .--a crisis. So long as~we do not ourselves abandon the elements of our life which keep us ever open and sensitive to the workings of the Spirit, so long as we have the faith and the courage to examine ourselves for fidelity to the authentic Benedictine tradition and to step into the future with faith and trust and submissive-ness- so long as these things are present,,the Benedictine family and mission will be .needed, will be in crisis, will be genuinely alive, ~ We attest to a frightened world that the'sword of Christ.is but a prelude to the peace of Christ, that death through olSedience leads to the fullest life, and that the ruins of our lives in the crises we meet are the foundations of Resur-rection. The world's fear must be cast out by the perfection of our love.For it is love that is the greatest judgment and crisis in all of human history. Benedict, in his school of the Lord's service, shows us the way to the crisis of love. The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery David J. Hassel, .S.J. Father:Hassel is Associate Professor of Philosophy at Loyol~i University in Chicago. His last arti-cle, "'Prayer of Personal Reminiscence: Sharing Oners Memories with Christ," was printed in the issue of March, 1977 and is still available in reprint form. He currently resides at 6525 North Sheridan Road; Chicago, IL 60626. Ironically, the terms most frequently used to describe our present-day spirituality can cause us the most c6nfusion: peace, consolation and desola-tion, dryness in prayer, contemplation in action, discernment. Since these terms.point to.mySterious processes within our experience, even a book-length analysis of them would be hardly adequate. But perhaps an article can achieve some clarity if it attempts simply to locate the happenings described by these terms~ In other words, if we were to ~st~rvey the various level~ of human awareness--e~en with some crudity--we might better understand the events occurring at these levels.' But before doing tlais survey, could we first describe the problems to be touched hire? For ~xample, people can feel disturbed about the peace they experience in their decisions and their prayer. Is this peace simply the euphoria of having finally made a decision after hours or days of sweaty deliberations? Is peace in prayer mainly exuberant physical ~nd mental health? The f6~ty'- year old priest has decided that God no longer wants him to practice° his priesthood but now wishes him to marry the woman who has helped him so ' I am deeply indebted to the retreatants whose honesty and trust have furr~ished me with the data out of which this article rises, i am particularly indebted to the following persons who have attempted to save me the usual number of unhealthy exaggerations inevitable in such an article as this: Mary Ann Hoope, B.V.M., Robert Harvanek, S.J., Paul Clifford, S.J., John Schuett, S.J., Richard Smith, S.J., Robert Murphy, S.J, :Mary Jane Linn, C.S.J., Frank Houdek, S.J., Jules Toner, S.J., Mrs. Mary Ellen Hayes. 807 808 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 much in his ministry and in his discovery of manhood. He feels peace in this decision; but is this "peade" simply the relief from heavy parish obligations and the glad anticipation of married life? Will "peace" remain when his new life begins to place renewed obligations on his shoulders? Again, a person can experience what seems to be a split in his personality. He finds himself half-miserable, half-happy. He asks himself: "How can I, at one and the same time, experience the depressing defeat of losing my job and yet, in my depths, feel confident? Are there two of me? Is this the play of con-solation and desolation within my life? Or are the pressures of life splitting my consciousness into two?" A third problem is Christ's command: "Pray always." Such a request seems psychologically impossible when a mother is raising four children between the ages of two years and twelves years or when an engineer is testing a heavily traveled city bridge for stress-breaks and wondering what will hap-pen in the business community and-at city hall if he condemns the bridge, or when the advertising executive is sizing up a prospective customer, estimating the product to be advertised, and puzzling over the morality of a slick sales-pitch which has just come to mind. But if Christ is asking the psychologically impossible, is he not providing the conditions for skepticism about his whole message? A fourth problem arises when we focus upon discernment process the three puzzling cases just mentioned. What does it mean to discern God's will in a decision, if I am unsure about peac~, consolation-desolati0n, and ongoing prayer in my life? Such discernment is often termed the concrete call of Christ to the individual Christian or to his community. But does God call only through external circumstances and other people, or does he not also" make his desires known within the experience of the individual Christian? Does such an interior experience occur in the imagination or in the mind or in the heart of the person? Or in all three at the same time? Or somewhere else? Some clarity, it is contended here, can be attained in these problems if one distinguishes four levels of awareness in the praying Christian: the superficial, physical, psychic, and mysterious. Could we, therefore, describe these levels then indicate a way of uncovering the fourth level, next show the type of partial solution which the appreciation of this fourth level offers to our prob-lems, subsequently explain how the fourth level would seem to affect the upper thre~ levels of awareness, and finally offer some cautions about the use of this fourth-level explanation? These five steps would be the strategy of this presentation. Four Levels of Awareness2 First Level: the Sensuous-Superficial. This first level is the skin-surface of experience: sensuous awareness. It is a tissue of minor irritations and pleasures. For example, I am displeased by the cold draft playing on my neck during the auditorium talk, or by the raspy.voice of the woman describing her The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery / 809 Florida vacation or by the first gnawings of hunger at 4:30 p.m., or by the slight rash on the back of my hand. At this same level, I experience satisfac-tion at a favorite meal of ham and sweet potatoes, at the sweet smell of spring grass just cut, at the relaxation of a hardy laugh, at the caressing of the family cat. Such minor irritations and pleasures ordinarily do not demand much at-tention and are taken for granted as the normal flow of life. Though I am often barely conscious of them, they do give life its continuous texture. Second Level: the Physical-Vital. Underneath the first level of awareness, there are other happenings which demand attention because they last longer and are more intense tfian events of the first level. Here are the pains and joys which go deeper than minor ir.ritations and pleasantries~ Anyone who has experienced the steady throb of neuralgia or the constant harassment of ulcer pains or the brain-deadening effect of insomnia will vouch for the e~xistence of this second level of awareness. Here are also pleasurable joys which exceed the simple pleasures described in the first level. There is, for example, the exuber-ance of glowing health, the feeling that "all the world is beautiful and owned by me'~-experiences which the carbonated-drink advertisements exploit. At this level the fifth symphony of Beethoven can stir a person to his depths with its elegant majesty, can make him feel noble beyond his dreams. Or this level contains the sustained sat!sfaction of slowly mastering one's tennis or golf. Here, too, the ecstasy of sexual pleasure .occurs with its deep drum-beat of powerful delight. The very power of the pains and pleasures of this second level demand our attention and make us aware of how superficial the first- . level irritations and pleasures are. Yet these second-level happenings do com-penetrate and influence the first-level, sensuous awareness. One's enjoyment of a favorite dinner is enhanced by the feel of good health or diminished by in-somnia. Third Level: the Psychological-Psychic. Although the second level of awareness contains happenings of insistent strength, still the third level of awareness is capable of riveting a person~.s attention and so possessing him or her that, for a time, he or she is seemingly unaware of second- or first-level happenings. The deep sorrows and the pure joys of this level totally permeate a person's being and consciousness. For example, the young woman, working at her first secretarial job, may be hypnotized by fear of failure so that her voice creaks, her fingers clog the typewriter keyboard, her memory fails and she feels no hunger throughout the first day of work. The paranoid person 2 In their article "Phenomenology, Psychiatry, and Ignatian Discernment," (The Way, Supple-ment #6, May, 1968, 27-34) Felix Letemendia and George Crofts'peak of four levels of experience: the sensorial, the vital, the psychic and the spiritual, which somewhat resemble the levels described here. They have borrowed their descriptions from Max Scheler, the philosopher, and from Kurt Schneider, the psychiatrist. Of course, there are many levels of experience, if one wishes to be very specific. But perhaps this more simplifiedlsketch of four levels better serves our present purpose. 810 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 may be so concentrating on the "derogatory actions" of others that he walks through a glass door without knowing that he is bleeding from cuts. At this third level a woman may experience haunting doubts about her ability to love another adeq~uately and thus may begin to feel like a dull, unattractive child u~na.ble to evoke love from another. A father's mental pain at watching his daughter waste away in unrelievable cancer is matched on this level only by the suffering of a wife undergoing systematic and.continuous belittlement from her husband while the children look on bewildered. But at this third level, the depth of the pure joys~equal such sorrows. Here an6ther mother experiences the warm security of being loved by an admired husband and of being respected by admiring children: Here, too, is where the older brother ~njoys the four-touchdown afterri0on of his younger brother whom h~had 6oached on all the moves of a tigl~t end during four years. It is at this third lev61 that the novelist reads over the'laudatory reviews of his book and experiences lasting gratitude to the elderly journalism teacher who had taught him his craft. Here, too, the woman social worker sits late at her desk, savoring the bone-tiredness but deep satisfaction of a day well spent in patiently binding together fragmenting families, persons, and situations. This third level, then; encompasses the top two levels'and, in so doing, can render them almost routine. For the top two-levels, distracting as they may be to this thir~l level of awareness, are integrated into a fuller meaning at the°third level. The tired social worker does feel the pangs of hunger at the ~irs~t level, and at the second level does anticipate the pleasure of relaxing at home with her husband over a leisurely dinner, but all this is occurring in the wider and deeper context 'of fulfillment in her work at the third level of awareness. Fourth Level: the Underground River of God. ~ The fourth level is like a great underground river which, underlying the upper three levels, quietly nourishes them, sustains them in their storms and blisses, acts as the continuity (the stay-in~ power) underneath~their sometimes rapid fluctuations of irritation-pleasantry, pain-pleasure, sorrow-joy. Compared to theupper three levels, this fourth level is a quiet beneath turbulance, a constancy amid flux, a seem-in~ Passivity under great activity. Consequently, the fourth level is never explicitly conscious in itself (as are the top three levels) but only by way of cont~ast with the top levels. It is not simply experiential, but implicitly experiential,' as we note in the following two cases. Discovery of the Fourth LevEl A remarkable case-history, whose details rife changed to disguise the ~ Being ignorant of C. G. Jung, the author would not wish the combined images of underground river and of ever deeper experiential levels to be interpreted as intentionally Jungian. ' John F.~ Dedek in his Experimental Knowledge of the Indwelling Trinity: an Historica/Study of the Doctrine of St. Thomas (St. Mary of the Lake Seminary Mundelein, Illinois, 1958, pp. 125r142) calls attention to Aquinas' doctrine that.the Christian's knowledge of the Trintiy is quasi The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery / 811 person, illustrates how this fourth level can be discovered. A woman novice in a religious order located onthe west coast came to a midwest Jesuit University to begin her collegiate studies. Her novice mistress had taken a dislil(e to her, told her that her lack of intelligence would keep her from ever being a useful member of the congregation, succeeded in turning the other novices against her and yet had capriciously admitted her into vows. When ! met this woman, her skin was blotched with anxiety, the doctor had diagnosed stomach ulcers, she herself felt isolated and :depressed~ But she also was convinced that, despite all the sufferings, God wanted her to be a nun. As three years went by, she discovered that she was a straight "A" student, that she had special talents for political science, that she was being accepted by her fellow students and by the nuns with whom she lived, that she could pray. In other words, she found that she had a future, that deep happiness could occur in religious life. As these discoveries slowly permeated her life, the skin-blotches .disap-peared, the ulcers became healed, the sense of alienation was replaced with the warm feeling of being accepted by her religious community. The steady accomplishment felt at the top three levels of her experience now allowed her to experience by contrast a constant uneasiness or lack of peace at her deepest level, the fourth level. During the period of her novitiate experience, she could not be clearly aware of the uneasiness at the fourth level, because it was clouded by all the disturbances at the upper three levels. Only the growing brightness at the top three levels of-her experience during her collegiate days enabled her to appreciate the bl~i9k uneasiness at the deepest level of her being. After a year or so of disc_e~;nment at-this fourth level, she gradually came to acknowledge that the Lord was asking her to leave the religious community and was calling her to another way .of life. She resisted this leave-taking because she had found so much pleasure, joy, fulfillment in her religious com-munity and in her study-work. Finally she accepted God's will and, leaving the congregation, secured a job in Washington as research assistant to a member of Congress who bullied every member of his staff consistently and impartial-ly. The former novice's skin again took on the anxiety blotches, again she was consulting a doctor about stomach pains, again :she felt herself sinking into a dark and angry depression. But to her surprise, at. t.he fourth level of awareness now opened to her by her previous and present experience, she found a constant serenity never before experienced, The Lord was apparently experimentalis, i.e., "knowledge that is joined to charity" (p. 146). But he is unable to determine whether for Aquinas "this knowledge is merely discursive cognition based on signs or rather some kind of immediate or supra-discursive perception of the divine persons." Such knowledge is cer-tainly at the deepest l~vel of man's experience and, according to.the above analysis, is inferential, that is, the person becomes aware by contrasting the top three levels with the fourth level. The cen-tral texts noted in Aquinas by Fr, Dedek are in I Sent., D. 14, q. 2a., and 3; D. 15, Expositio Secundae Patris Textus. Also Sum. Theol. I, q. 43, a.5, ad 2. 812 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 approving her new way of life. At a great price and with subtle indirectness she had discovered the fourth level of awareness where the Lord calls to her and speaks in her discernment. Among other factors for diagnosing God's will for her, the crucial factor was the continuous uneasiness or the steady Peace at this fourth level. A second quick example illustrates these same points in a less extra-ordinary way. One day in a community corridor I met a fellow Jesuit who had just returned from home. He said to me, "You know my younger sister just died, I discovered two weeks ago that my doctoral thesis of a year's slaving has already been written by a South American, I'm wondering whether I can handle the theology courses scheduled for next year, and I haven't slept more than four hours a night during the last two weeks. But do you know? I must be crazy. Down deep I'm at peace, God loves me and will help me work out these things, I worry at one level of me; but at a deeper level I feel at peace." Could it be that this man is discovering with new clafity 'and enjoying with fuller appreciation the fourth level within his experience--precisely because of the striking contrast between the top three levels of suffering-sorrow and this fourth level of serenity-security? But what is this fourth level so poetically described as the underground river of God within us? First of all, its peace ap-pears to be a sense of God's approval, almost a companioning of the person by God, On the other hand, its uneasiness seems to express God's disapproval which produces an emptiness and loneliness. Secbndly the experience of peace or uneasiness is implicit to the top three levels; that is, it is recognizable by contrast with these levels yet is hidden under and within them. Thirdly, because of its depth and implicitness, this fourth level is difficult to describe directly. Instead, one offers experiential case-histories with the hope that the latter can point within the hearer'sexperience to his or her fourth level. For this reason, too, metaphor ("underlying river of God," "the ocean floor of life-experience" and "the background music of our activity at the top three levels") is employed rather than neat definitions composed of essential char, acteristics or criteria. Fourthly, the peace of the fourth level is marked by a passive alertness to.the top three levels of activity, an intent listening at the fourth level, a sense of not being along, a wi!lingness simply to be and to let be, an expectant openness to all future events. Yet at the same time, this peace permeates, patiently strengthens and lends finer quality to all the activities at the top three levels? What Is Happening at the Fourth Level? Peace. One event of vital importance seems to be happening at the fourth level: peace, a perduring serenity even amid storms at the top three levels. ~ Prayer experience at the fourth level bears a number of resemblances to what Karl Rahner describes as transcendental experience in his Foundations of Christian Faith (Seabury, New York, 1978), pp. 20, 21, 54, 58. The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery / 813~ Once the four levels are distinguished, it becomes clear that the word peace can refer to at least four different states in a person's awareness. At the first level, peace would mean enjoyment of life's little pleasures without its normal irritations. Confer television's beer and cosmetic advertisements for further clarification of this bodily peace. At the second level, peace could well mean a combination of good health, unworried mind and settled emotions. The fisherman, safe from the office telephones and watching the sun rise over water dimpled by surface-fee~ding trout, may well be the symbol of tl~is peace of mind. At the third level, peace may be euphoria, the neatly balanced inner life of felt achievement, of skilled competence, of fully satisfying family life, of pleasant prospect. For examples, look at the All-American father or mother in the Geritol or insurance-annuity advertisements; or, .better, look to the disciplined people who are willing to suffer much for the good of others. This could be called peace of heart. As we have mentioned, the top three level~ of peace, when disturbed, can reveal by contrast the fourth level of peace. Evidently, when one is recollecting himself or sinking into himself to discover his center of being so that he can pray better, he is actually dropping down through the three upper levels of awareness so that he can reach the fourth level where life flows most richly, quietly, serenely. He will note how the peace of this fourth level tends to render peaceful the upper three levels and he will understand better the restlessness of those who appear to have everything but lack peace of being or person. So, h'~ will discover that fourth-level peace is not just the concern of the wise, the religiously inclined~ the fortuna~tely educated; it is the goal and hope of every living person. Indeed, this is precisely what the Taoist, the Buddh.ist, and the transcendental meditator seeks. Yet not all seem to recognize the fourth level cli~arly for what it is: the felt presence of God. And quite a few seem unwilling to pay the price of such .recognition. For the price i~ double: (1) a sometimes painful discerning of ~what factors are operating within the fourth level and (2) for the Christian, the consequent willingness to accept the call of Christ (n6w heard more clearly,) and to respond to it more generously. Let us attempt some exploration of thesetwo points. Discernment. A spate of articles and floods of conversation about discern-ment make it one of the "in" terms. As luck would have'it, the mystery of discernment is not lessened by all this attention. Nor will this article do anything more than try to show where discernment takes place~ To put it starkly, discernment occurs radically at the fourth level.6 What 6 In using the term radical discernment to point to God's approving (peace) or disapproving (uneasiness) movemeni within the fourth level, I do not intend to discount the other convergent factors which go into the full discernment process, e.g., the weighing of reasons pro and con, obe-dience to lawful authority, spiritual direction, the testing of the decision in the actual living of it, use of Scripture, the calibrating of patterns of past behavior and accomplishments (the direction 814/Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 this:statement means become clearer only after one defines the events (or states) of desolation, consolation, depression, and elation. For it would seem that these four states occur only at the upper three levels. In other words, although desolation and consolation are used to read the spirits influencing a person to good or to evil, and although they may well appear to intrude upon the fourth level, still they are quite distinct from a perons's peace or lack of peace at this lowest level. Nor do depression and elation enter the fourth level of man's awareness even though they can obscure the peace or uneasiness of this level. Consolation-Desolation, Elation-Depression. It is necessary to define these four terms experientially in order to understand and to test in one's own awareness the truth of the above statements. First of all, though desolation can cause depression and intermingle with the latter almost inextricably, still desolation is not the psych.ological state of depression. For desolation is induced by the evil spirit, not by the psychological dy~.namisms causing depres-sion such as extreme fatigue, poor self-image, seemihgly depreciatory actions by admired people, neurotic or psychotic impulses, and so on. In addition, desolation has spiritual effects, i.e., those based on faith experience. Thus the person undergoing desolation feels that God igat a cold distance or does not exist at all. This person finds himself convinced that he has no future b~cause he can do no good for. anyone, least of all for the kingdom of Godl He feels totally unloving and unlovable for God and his people. On the other hand, depression is not concerned with faith-o.bjects such as these, but is involved with natural goals and hopes which, however, can be easily entwined with faith objects, e.g., when th~ nun-teacher estimateg that her attempt to write a biology book is being thwarted (depression) by her own lack of competence or (paranoia) by the devious enyy-tactics bf the department chairman so that as a result she cannot Contribute to God's glory and his kingdom. To put all this succinctly, depression paralyzes or weakens the human as human; while desolation freezes or enerx~ates the Christian as Christian. Thus it almost goes without saying that consolation is not elation since of one's life), and so on. But I am saying that in the midst of complex decisions, peace or uneasiness at the fourth lex;el is the predominant factor to be considered. For often enough the reasons pro and con cancel each other out; authority often gives such broad directives that numerous alternatives are left open; spiritual direction can only help the directee discover for himself or herself the peace or uneasiness; testing of the decision in practice can be somewhat ambivalent; use of scriptural prayer is itself tested in terms of consolation and desolation which, in turn, are discerned in terms of peace or uneasiness; patterns of past behavior do not fully account for new demands of life, new turns on the road of life. For more on discernment, confer Karl Rahner's The Dynamic Element in the Church, (Herder and Herder, New York, 1964) Part 111: "'The Logic of Concrete Individual Knowledge in Ignatius Loyola." Thomas M. Gan. non and George W. Traub's The Desert and the City (Macmillan, Toronto, 1969) Chapter VIII: "The Logic of Christian Discernment" says much clearly in short compass. The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery / 815 strengthening consolation ~(as distinct from Satan's eventually debilitating elation) is caused by God, not by such psychological dynamisms as the sense of worked achievement, the feel of competence in skilled activity, the reassurance of someone's deep affection, the hope of career-success, the discovery of one's deepest self. Fo~ consolation, unlike the elation which it can cause and enter, is concerned with faith-effects. That is, God consoles me with the inner faith-vision that he pervades the whole world, with the hope that I can do much for him and his people, with the certainty that I amcapable of deep devotion to the triune God and his people, Briefly, consolation is the state of feeling cl.ose to self, God, and others; just as desolation is the state of feeling isolated from God,. others, and even one s self, Consolation ~s a deep sense of the commu'nion'~of saints because of the felt presence of faith, hope, and charity; while desolation is experience of the utter loneliness of hell. Only God can cause consolatio.n; just as Satan is the sole cause of desolation, a deliberate attack on the three God-given virtues of faith, hope and charity. And both pheno~aeha occuronly at the top three levels of a person's experience- .Dryness in Prayer. Obviously, when consolation and desolation are swinging back and .forth (along with elation and depression) in one's experience, one feels no "dryness in prayer." For this dryness is the state of normalcy, the middle balancing state between the swings of consolation and desolation, of elation and desolation. Indeed, it is the state of~everyday living. Thus, dryness in prayer is not necessarily a sign of God's displeasure. For one cannot undergo the alternations of desolation-consolation or of depression-elation over.long periods of time without becoming exhausted'physically as well as spiritually. There must be periods of so-cailed~dryness if only so that the con-solations and desolations may be felt with refreshed sensitivity. It should be noted here that there is a dryness induced by ungrateful or disloyal actions, by petty selfishness, by clever screening out of spiritual insights which might disturb Complacency. This is when God declines to speak to Us with Consolation lest he seem.to approve our.state, and when Satan does not want to disturb our foolish self-satisfa'ction with desolation. But this dryness of complacency is not the normal dryhess in prayer even though both types of dryness occur within the same top three levels and can intermingle or at least succeed each other This intermingling makes it necessary to enter the fourth level of e~xperi-ence to explain~what normal dryness in prayer is. For underlying this dryness of the top three levels, can be a perduring sense of being right with God, of not being alone, and even of companioning God--despite all one's mistakes, shortcomings, and sin~fulness. This fourth-level, implicit sense of God is itself a prayer of quiet calmness which gives endurance, balance, and centering to all our spiritual living.~ This prayer of trusting expectancy would seem to be the somewhat experiential divine presence of which Aquinas speaks. Here the 816 ./ReviewforReligious, Volume 39, 1980/6 person is, in the words of Hans Urs von Balthasar, "a sustained utterance of prayer.''8 For this reason, such prayer can go on underneath one's fatigue, distractions, deadness of feeling, fitful sexual urges, tightening tensions, twitches and quirks. The quiet, hidden (not explicitly conscious) presence of God is supporting all the events at the tbp three levels of experience as one studies educational theory, works crossword puzzles, sells toothpaste, kisses children goodnight, and argues with one's spouse; This is why the :fourth level of experience can be described as a great underground river which quiets, stabilizes, nourishes, and guides the praying person. It is that which enable us literally to pray always. For, to change the figure, peace of the fourth level is like the quiet background music to all our endeavors on 'the upper levels. Again, this peace is the sense of carrying within oneself the Center of the World and of having nothing to fear (See Rm 8:35-39; I Co 3:21-23). Seeming Dereliction. For these reasons, even a partial obscuring of the fourth level can be a confusing, even an initially frightening, experience. When one'~ sense of the indwelling presence of God seems clouded in some way within the fourth level itself and not merely by desolation or depression at th~ top three levels, one experiences a certain dereliction. One.feels cut adrift, terribly alone, like a solitary canoeist drifting on a great body of night water. For the fourth level contains the center of one's universe, the hope of one's total future, the sourse of one's strength to love when not loved back. Of course, the fourth level of experience is never completely obscured; God is never far away. In fact, our very vulnerability and helplessness prob-ably make us, like the waif, even more appealing to him. Yet because this feel-ing of atheism at the fourth level is often accompanied by a convergence of outside calamities affecting the top three levels (confer the example of the Jesuit mentioned earlier), the suffering is acute. In fact, the sufferer needs the reassurance of spiritual direction as much as the storm-engulfed navigator needs clear sighting on the North Star. Still, in this seemingly total absence of consolation, to say nothing of elation, there perdures the subtle peace of God's presence never doubted even though ba~ely felt. Indeed, after the tem-porary dereliction, one feels more sensitive to peace', more alert to G.od's movements within the fourth l~vel.9 ' A wise and experie~ntial description of prayer amid dryness is Leonard Boase's Prayer of Faith (B. Herder, St. Louis, 1962), especially Chapters IV and V. (Paperback reissue: Our Sunday Visitor Press, Noll Piazza, Huntington, Indiana, 1976, a somewhat rearranged edition). ~ Hans Urs yon Balthasar, Prayer(Paulist Press, New York, 1961), translated byA. V. Littledale, p. 36. (Though not easy reading, this book gives deep understanding of prayer. One of its surpris-ing insights is that "even the dark night of the soul, the total absence of consolation, is a form of consolation" (p. 239). The paradox would seem to be that the ve~:y endurance of desolation with trust and love is itself a type of consolation. , * In his When the Well Runs Dry (Ave Maria Press, Notre Dame, 1979), Thomas H. Green, S.J., has provided an encouraging synthesis of Teresa of Avila, John of the Cross, Leonard Boasei and The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery / 817 Levels of Prayer. Consequently, as one sinks down past the first or sensuous level where vocal prayer finds expression, past the second and third levels where meditative and affective prayer predominate, and into the fourth level where prayer of.simplicity (simple being) occurs, the praying person hears more and more clearly the call of Christ within. Here one listens with a deeply passive alertness underneath the swirl of activities on the top three levels.'° Here the God-hunger is never sated; here in faith one feels heard, faced, touched by the Other. From here one responds with a surprising strength and tenderness. For, from here an all-embracing hope reaches up through the top three levels to say: "There will always be someone to serve and to love wherever I go, whomever I meet, whatever be the conditions of myself and others," From here love explodes up through the top three levels in strong generosity: "How can I give joy to my friends, coworkers, people I serve? How can I help each discover his or her deepest value and find this in each other and in Christ?" Thus, at the fourth level one seems to discover the peaceful river of God's mysterious presence, the radical source of discernment underlying consola-tion and desolation, the prayer of quiet calmness underneath the normal dryness of routinized life, the sometime feeling of dereliction when God is Closest, and the source of exuberantly hopeful generosity at the call of Christ. Influence of the Fourth Level on the Top Three Levels Despite its many levels, human experience is a unified focusing on the world, God, and self. So, it is not surprising that the peace of the fourth level percolates up through the upper three levels--with varying results. For example, in flooding up into the top three levels, this peace may make a face radiant, give added physical strength, direct strong emotions into creative activity, lend stable purpose .to one's thinking, imagining, feeling, deciding. Under these conditions even the ordinarily dour person will occasionally appear to be cheerful and rather outgoing. Because joy and lightness of heart are not infrequently a result of this pe~ace, people may rashly judge that a per-son undergoing deep sorrow at the third level is strange because of "his being unmoved, his quiet smile." On the other hand, uneasiness felt at the fourth level can move up and disturb. A person may be fe~eling euphoric at the top three levels and yet expe-the Cloud of Unknowing, within his own experience of prayer and of giving spiritual direction. ¯ Especially helpful are Chapters IV, V, and VI where he imaginatively and succinctly describes the Dark Night of the Senses and the Dark Night of the Soul. ~o M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O., works with brilliant clarity at this fourth level in his two articles "Centering Prayer--Prayer of Quiet" (REwEw FOR RELIGIOUS, Vol. 35, 1976/5, pp. 651-662) and "Progress in Centering Pr~iyer" (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOOS, VOI. 38, 1979/6, pp. 833-838). These are complemented by Thomas Keating, O.C.S.O., with his "Cultivating the Centering Prayer" (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Vol. 37, 1978/1, pp. 10-15). 818 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 rience a vague restlessness; 'amid continuing success, the man who has everything may feel a sense of incompleteness; within a totally secure situation ("I simply can't lose") a sense of impending chaos sends up ripples of fear from the fourth level. When this happens, people will sometimes~seek to distract themselves from this basic uneasiness. They will overwork., start an unending process of job-jumping, try multiplemarria.ges, haunt psychiatrists, exhaust themselves .on attractive trifles like stamp collecting, golfing, crocheting and televiewing. St. Augustine's description of his ownfascinatio nugacitatis is a case history of one man's twenty-year struggle with constant uneasiness at the fourth level. But if peace from the fourth level is arising within a person's euphoria at the top three levels, it acts as a stabilizing ballast to the ballooning emotions and exuberant activities. For its very perdurance at the depth of one's being gives a sharp sense of the temporariness of success. Indeed, the .implicit awareness of God at the fourth level helps us to feel, as well as to understand, how relative are all events and things compared to the absolute faithfulness of the Lord. In this way, contemplation is permeating not only the top three levels of experience but entering into all the activities issuing from these levels of experience. The duality of contemplation and action is becoming more and more unified as the active person becomes more and more aware of the fourth level of experience. For the prayer of simplicity at the fourth level, in penetrating the top levels of experience, gives a new alertness to God's presence in others, a renewed hope in people's future fidelity, a deeper con-fidence in God's providence. Lastly, it should be mentioned here that the neurotic or psychotic person, if put in touch with the fourth level,, may find a new source of hope. Underneath all the disturbances at the top three levels where the psychiatrist competently works to free his client from constricting fears, is the fourth level where the spiritual director competently tries to help a person interpret God's call. Because these four levels intermingle, both the psychiatrist and the spiritual director must know something of the other's area of competence, must learn to respect each other's discoveries, and must cooperate to help their client accept and live within his limitations. In this way, the neurotic or the psychotic can slowly learn that God will be daily with him, that he can hope against hope without this being just another contradiction, that he is lovable and capable of loving, that, like Theresa of Lisieux, he can become a saint. '~ Four Dimensions of Prayer Experience. Once we have indicated, how the fourth level of awareness intermingles with and influences the other levels, we " In his Storm of Glory (Doubleday, Garden City, New York, 1955, Image) John Beevers indicates that Theresa of Lisieux struggled with personality imbalance of a serious nature from her mother's death (Aug. 28, 1877) until her miraculous cure by the Blessed Virgin (May 13, 1883). See pp. 34, 41-43. The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery / 819 are in a position to change the metaphor of "levels" to that of "dimensions" of experience. For human experience is marvelously unified and thus all the levels of awareness do permeate and mutually modify each other in forming a single human consciousness. For example, the fourth level contains the deep root of every prayer. Yet this prayer flowers differently, e.g., into prayer of the feelings and imagination at the third level, into reflective-meditative prayer at'the second level and into vocal prayer (action-prayer) at the first level. This is why these forms of prayer can be equally profound, can succeed each other quickly during a fifteen-minute period of prayer, can support and challenge each other, and can vary in intensity as does conversation between two human beings. This interchange between levels of prayer experience is also the reason why discernment, though founded radically at the fourth level in basic peace or uneasiness, nevertheless also occurs at the third level in the shapes of consola-tion, desolation, obedience, friendship; at the second level in terms of Scrip-ture, historical memories, and reasons pro and con; and even at the first level in the setting of such conditions for discernment as fasting, silence, and mortification. Obviously, then, the presence of God, so intimately and per-duringly active at the fourth level, is not limited to that level of awareness. Consequently, to change the model of explanation from "levels" to "dimensions" is not to deny the distinctions among the four levels and to homogenize their diverse influences on each other. Rather, it is to assert con-comitantly the remarkable unity of a praying person's consciousness. This is to say that all four levels, while remaining distinct, nevertheless are como penetrating and mutually influencing each other like distinct eddies in the single stream of human consciousnesL ,Some Cautions About the Fourth Level Because the above description of the location and the dynamics of the fourth level is rather crude, one must carefully assess one's own experience to see if it somewhat fits this description. One should not be unduly surprised if things are not totally clear. Then, too, one's spiritual director should be con-sulted for the necessary qualifications of the many flat statements made above. At the heart of each person is the deepest mystery and this article can hold only a fitful candle-flame to it. It is hoped that the shifting shadows accompanying such a flame will not obscure the basic contours outlined. For there are many, many layers of experience, and consequently, many, many interpretations of them to be considered. Still, no matter how many levels of experience, there is always the last and deepest level of man's being where union with God is radical.'2 ,2 Would it be outrageous to predict that growing sensitivity to the fourth level of experience will occur through steady practice of the examen of consciousness? 1120 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 Further, though God may be most present and most clearly speaking at the so-called fourth level, still he is also present in all the levels above. As a result, it takes some reflective living to distinguish these levels and to calibrate their functions. So I have been warned: "Only veterans of the spiritual life will really understand what you are saying; others will be mystified or will mistakenly think that they understand--with consequent bad results." In response to this, I can only say that the Lord protects those trying to find him and that no one can escape the facing of mystery deep within himself. It seems to me that we are never "safe" with any mystery, never in control, never ade-quately understanding, always searching and groping, always trusting amid our fears. If we must take chances in order to grow, then here would be the best place of all to gamble. Now Available As A Reprint Prayer of Personal Reminiscence: Sharing One's Memories With Christ by David J. Hassel, S.J. Price: $.60 per copy, plus postage Address R~view for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Journey into Journey--A Reflection Rita Bernard Walton, S.S.J. Sister Rita's last article, "Nomadic Memories," appeared in the January issue, 1978. She resides at St. Charles Seminary; Overbrook; Philadelphia, PA 19151. i was tired, as though at the end of a long journey. Long it had been, for I had journeyed into the human condition and had come to the doorway of under-standing that the human condition was so fragile, so delicately beautiful and so unique. I had journeyed and had come to the crossroads of another journey. It was there that I met Jesus in a new and startlingly beautiful way. For many days I had concentrated on the road itself, the dust, the rocks, the potholes, the many trials of faith and trust, the deaths along the way. It was easy to lose sight of the sunshine, even when it was directly overhead, when my mind grappled with the why of human events of suffering and death, events that seemed to crash in, like hurricane winds. Jesus had been my companion on the whole of my'journey, but for awhile I lost full sightoof him as I became enveloped in the dust-cloud of self pity and independence. It was only when I fell, or when I cried out in hurt or pain that my vision cleared enough to allQw me to see that others were just as fragile and beautiful as I, and I saw him in them. Friends tended to my wounds, making his,compassion so real. I continued on my journey, renewed in tasting the empathy that had been portioned out to me. It was when I came to what seemed like the end of my journey, at the crossroads, that my vision cleared in grace and I saw Jesus again. He was standing there right in front of me as though in a line at the bus depot. He was as dusty and worn down at the heels as I was. He had been journeying in the human condition, too. We looked deeply into each other's eyes, feeling recognition flood within as our eyes drank in the sight of the human condition. "I have come to do the will of him who sent me" (see Jn 6:35-40) we both said together, laughing and hugging 821 822./Review for Religious, ~'olume 39, 1980/6 each other as old friends do. Calvary lingered in my bones and memory. We had tasted each other's experience in dialogue often along the way before this. The look in our eyes now spoke more eloquently than words as we recalled our meetings on The Hill. I saw myself reflected in his eyes and came to understand how much he loved so many other fragile creatures like me--enough to die upon that Hill. Suddenly, I saw an endless procession of fragile creatures reflected in his eyes as once again I heard him say: "I have come to do the will of him who sent me. come follow me" (ibid.; Jn 1:43). All through my life I had worked to achieve something and here I was wrapped in the total surprise of being given unconditional love and the knowledge of its depth of meaning, of its desire for response. I felt rooted in time, yet weightless, as my mind and heart saw and felt the others who had responded to his call. I saw Jesus before me gesturing like a white-faced clown who beckons a crowd to come forward. He skipped around gleefully to show the.adventure with him that lay ahead. I felt life and death penetrate me, both at the same time. Self came to life and self died as I stepped forth, lifted by the urgency ofthat leap. I found myself transformed, a new clown among clowns, called to love the human condition. The clowns remind us, with a tear and a smile, that we share the same human weakness. Thus, it is not surprising that, in the:clown, we have a powerful image to help us under-stand the role of, the minister in contemporary society.' I had laughed and cried so often along the way, feeling the human condi-tion fired in my bones, but it was only my own condition that I had felt. I had seen others and so often moved on without feeling. In this leap away from myself I experienced the desire to share in, and feast in the human condition of my brother an~d sister clowns, the soon-to-be Clowns as well as the never-to-be clowns. Jesus had touched my fire-brighted stillness and unharnessed me. I no longer marched in my own parade~ My mind whirled in thoughtful excitement and new comprehension as I" found myself thinking of my Old Testament favorites, friends whose life stories had~ encouraged me to persevere along the way. I laughed when I thought of Abraham. In my own way I understood how he felt having been stirred by Yahweh (Gn 12:1). When Abraham was seventy-five years oid he had an experience 0f God that created a disturbance in the order of his life. Yahweh took possession of him as friend and placed within him the seed for upsetting the known order of the time. Abraham was headed toward a new foundation caused by the deliberate intervention of God into the course of human history. In response, Abraham abandoned his natural roots and "went" (Gn 12:14). Abraham was called to bring life to celebration in know-ing God's affirmation, and he allowed God to alter the course of his life ' Nouwen, Henri J. M., Clowning in Rome, New York, 1979, p. 2-3. Journey into Journey--A Reflection dramatically. His response brought biblical religion to birth. God moved across the existing culture, purified the existing religion and showed himself to be a personal, saving God. Abraham's story is a story of the trials and con-solations he experienced in his need to have faith in the God who called and stirred him. I think Abraham would have made a good clown. His faith touched me as I reflected on his journey into a new land. I, too, was journeying in a new land and realized that love had placed within me, also, the seed for upsetting my known order of time. Jesus had intervened in the course of my human history and created a disturbance in the order of my life with his call to follow him. He walked on my sand and seeded the field of me. He called me friend, beloved; and I felt his warmth. I was unbirthed, in labor to be born, wrapped in silent wonder, wrapped in warmth, encased, ensacked in womb-like nurturing, waiting to become more of who I am. I was born and aging, greying, daily dying, stepping slower, encased, ensacked in tomb-like mystery, waiting to become more ofwho I am. I was spiraling unborn to birth, spiraling birthed to dying, going both ways--to life, to death-- like the seed, dying to be alive. Quantum leap, broken shell, o rising beauty from out of clay, reaching upwards to the Son; I felt the warmth of him who enters and transforms in utter silence and mystery. His warmth pulled my roots down into the numerous sands of time. His warmth pulled my beauty up into the spiraling newness of his life. Ah, the wonder of it all. I was 894 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 nurturing the mystery of God in me, waiting for the moment to be more of who I am. I had journeyed into the human condition and found the footprints of those who had been there before me. I had cried out from my own slavery that held me deep within my selfishness. I had longed for a new freedom. My Lord, I ask you' to lure me once more and lead me out into the wilderness and speak to my heart. Give me back the vineyards of your love and make my troubled valley a gateway of hope. Show me how to respond to you as I did when I was young, as I did when I came out of the Egypt of sin and into the land of freedom in your love. When that day comes, teach me again how to call you "my husband" and no longer let me call you "distant Lord." Take the names of sin off my lips; let them never be uttered again. When that day comes make a treaty for me with all that is wild in me. Break up the battle in me and make my sleep secure. Betroth me to yourself forever, betroth me with integrity and justice, betroth me with tenderness and love. Betroth me to you with faithfulness so I may come to know you. (see Ho 2:16-22) The Lord put Moses before me for reflection. He marks a turning point in salvation history and is a promise, an expectation for the future (Dt 18:15). Moses' journey with God took him to.the edge of fulfillment. He was deprived of the joy of entering the Promised Land in this life. His glance across the Promised Land accepted ownership of it for his people and it climaxed his ministry to them. His glance thrust us forward as a people of God. Glances along my journey, glimpses of future freedoms thrust me forward, too, and helped form me along the way. My living-dying-living is an exodus event that I continue to celebrate in my covenant with God in grace. I had to learn, as did Moses and the Israelites, to live with confidence in God. God wished me, too, to be content with him. Though he provided much manna, he continued to call to a deeper surrender, to total reliance (Dt 8:2-3). Exodus became a present :reality in the celebration of Eucharist. My "daily bread experience" called me to come out of my self-will slavery into the freedom of surrendering my needs to my Provider. I began to learn to live Journey into Journey--A Reflection / ~125 without the securities and comforts that had been baals along the way. He gave to me in "miraculous measure" (see Ex 16:14-31, 17:6) to increase my faith in order to conquer temptations and survive the desert trials. I began to realize that my whole life was dependent upon his sovereign grace and prom-ise. I felt the trust formed within me asI came to a new life, became a truer person, nourished and brought into covenant. My gratitude and trust found expression in the celebration of the Eucharist and in the ways I began to live with others. His all-the-time presence which had cut into my life, became a deeper experience of presence. This "peak:' experience left its mark on me and continues to call me into wonder and celebration and into deeper exami-nation of the heart of my being. I found that I was interacting with the extra-ordinary love of God. Justice, equity and charity e.ntered a new depth within me. "The wages of a day laborer are to be paid before the day is over, before sundown of the day itself, since he is poor and looks forward to them" (Dt 24:15). This thought brought affirmation alive in me. To pay my brothers and sisters their due ,wages before the sun goes down, to affirm them for who they are, for what they do, was to help me to live in sacred truce with my God and with each one of them. Affirmation makes me lovable. God affirmed me by my creation, by my calling to be more along the journey. Affirmation enriched community liv-ing and spilled out over into liturgy where the heart of affirmation comes to a depth of appreciation around the table of the Lord. I had journeyed into the human condition and learned affirmation from God's presence to Abraham, to Moses in the desert, and with me in the desert night into which he had invited me. I realized that finally My self-will cocoon had worn thin. It had cracked. The long hours of darkness and death-like sleep were at an end. A new awaking had flashed through my being, and I felt the pulsation of new life in the deep recesses of my unknown self. I felt my weakness, fragileness, and the limited space this life permits; but I had come to know the unbounded space of time that my Creator has. I felt a flutter in my new wings, faith sustained and overcame the fear of being lifted by the gentle breeze that warmed my wings and lifted them to the sun and sky. There ffere flashes of color and shapes of hope I had never seen before. They surrounded me and formed a world of trust that enhanced the colors I, too, had been gifted with. Wings and color, 826 / Review for fleligious, Volume 39, 1980/6 warmth and sun, gentle .breeze and cracked cocoon, --a new world, a new pulsation of life, and surrender, amen, your will be done. . and I was born, and borne aloft to him on the wings of love. Silence, burst of sound. Darkness, flash of light. " Once entombed, now unwombed, made real. Made real and set free, set free in the desert castle of life, sparked by the Flame of Love, enveloped by the Cloud of the Spirit, held only by the Song of Mortalness and the time to sing it in joy. I was made real, with what was real gone. I no longer fit into the crevices of the past nor in the ways of yesterday. I couldn't speak to yesterday as once I did. I tried and laughter faded, while puzzles formed and pain stood up. Yesterday and I were no longer one, and I had to trust that wings and colors would speak for themselves, that pains would be salved by the Son for I could not fold my wings to return to the cocoon of yesterday. A new form of life was presented io me in my quantum leap; for it to remain effective I knew I had to relate to and affect the world where I lived. I had to examine what would guide and support, my internal strength during my period of adjustment~ I was. on journey with a definite purpose, to keep cove-nant with my beloved God. I knew my quantum leap was a "peak" moment to recall and bring to celebration. I knew that I had to celebrate.by living fully alive, deeply in tune and in harmony with the life that surrounded me. God had funneled me down through many generations of people and I had to live as an important part of the whole production of life. I realized that Jesus held the promise of life. He set me free from sin and death through the sorrow and joy of the cross. Faith and trust had to stay alive in me and come to external expression in the celebration of life. Jesus had drawn me close and changed the structure of my existence. I became aware of his wanting my total dependence, a dependence of love, a life of daily living- " dying-living in the internal martyrdom of the consuming fire of love. I felt like bread dough that had become leavened and I was rising to the proportion that Journey into Journey--A Reflection / 827 he had measured out for me. He asked only for love. His was the action which created laughter within me, a love that reflected itself in a deeper sense of peace and joy. I was given a new identity in living a deeper form of covenant love. I was being built and structured into a new expression of love that gentles, purifies and strengthens as it sets the soul aflame with the desire to serve and love in total unity of mind, heart, and will. Nothing seemed dif-ferent, yet everything was different, is different. There is a new beauty in the air, in the pulsation of life and in silence which is an alive silence filled with wonder. In the silence of wonder I found and. still find my attitudes under reform. My wildness is being consumed further. The cry of the poor wants to be heard; and Jesus asks for a compassionate friend to respond to the cry of pain, of loneliness, of suffering that is crying out from members of his bruised body. In my meeting with Jesus at the crossroads of my journey, in the quan-tum leap of faith, in exodus from self, Jesus had blessed me--blessed me as poor. He brought me to the beautiful awareness of the fragileness of the human condition we all share. In union with him in the blessed poverty of dependence I am learning to share his love-gift. His living word gives me courage and encouragement. I hear him say: You are poor, and I have need of your povertyr your dependence on Me, Blessed are ihe poor in spirit; the kingdom o'f heaven is theirs (Mr 5:3). Your Father, who sees all that is done in secret, will reward you (Mt 6:6). You are poor, and I have need of your poverty to fill the hungry with good things and to give dessert to the poorest poor who are filled even with the crumbs of things, and the little that the poor can share. You are poor. Come! I know the plans .I have in mind for you. Plans for you to seek me with all your heart (Jr 29:11-14), for you are poor with need to find me, with need to listen so to listen to the poor and the poorer-- with a heart's care. 828 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 You are poor. The Plan I have for you is poor, a foolish plan, a prophet's plan. ¯ Console my people, console them (Is 40:1). Go now to those to whom I send you. and say whatever I command you (Jr 1:7). Do not be afraid, for I am with you (Is 43:5). I have called you- pool', I will be with you--poor, passing through the sea.--poor, walking through fire~ poor, you are precious in my eyes--poor, you are honored--poor, and I love you--poor. Do not be afraid, for I am with you. You are poor, and I have need of your poverty for the poor are blessed in spirit, heaven is the kingdom that is theirs. It is the Father's given reward. You are poor . Come! I lead you with reins of kindness, With leading strings of love (Ho 11:4), for you are poor with need to be fed, with need to be led-- so to, lead, for it is only the led who become those who lead. You are poor, and I have need of your poverty; for the poor are blessed in spirit, heaven is the kingdom that is theirs. It is the Father's given rewhrd You are poor, and I have need of your poverty. Come! I shall feed you in good pasturage. Journey into Journey--A Reflection / 829 You will rest in good grazing ground. I will show you where to rest (Ezk 35:14-16) Come! Come to feed the rich who fatten on the spoils of greed. Come! Come to look with me for the lost one, the stray one, the wounded one. Come! Be a true shepherd to them. You are poor, and I have need of your poverty, for the poor spirit is blessed. Heaven is the kingdom, a reward given by the Father who sees. Who sees that you are poor. You are poor, and I have need of your poverty. I have need for your spirit to be poor, poor enough to be sustained only on manna, on quail, on water, from rock (Ex 16), poor enough to be sustained on providence, the sustenance of the poor. You are poor, and I have need of your poverty. Come! Show the anawim the manna for thb seventh day so they may gather and share what few omers they need (Ex 16:23). Bring forward the people tha~t is blind, yet has eyes, that is deaf and yet has ears (Is 43:~). They are poor and in need of your poverty. Your poverty-- my song, piped through a bruised reed of foolish clay. Come! Sing a new hymn! Let praise resound from the ends of the earth, Let the sea sing praise, 830 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 Let the deserts and the cities raise voice! (Is 42:10-11). Your poverty--my song, piped through a bruised reed of foolish clay. Come! Come to the water, thirsty as you are; and though you have no money, come! I make no charge for corn, for wine, for milk. I make no charge for satisfying bread (Is 55:1-3). Come! Give your attention, listen! I know theplans I have in mindforyou (Jr 29:1 l). Come! Come to covenant (Is 55:4). you are poor. Your poverty--my song. My words do not return to me empty. They water the earth. They give growth and seed (Is 55). --seed for the poor. Your poverty--my song. You are poor, and I have need of your poverty, for the poor spirit is blessed. Heaven is the kingdom, a reward given by the Father, who sees . . and he took pity on them. (Mk 6:34). He took the five loaves and the two fish. (v. 41). They all ate., and (v. 42) They collected the scraps remaining, twelve baskets full (Mt 14:20). Come! You are poor, and I have need of your poverty. In grace and love I respond: Let what you have said be done to me (Lk 1:38). I am poor, ° and I have need of your song. Journey into Journey--A Reflection / 831 It took many years to form Israel as a people:. It takes us years to be formed as his beloved. We each experience our own Exodus, Covenant, Tran-sition, and Celebration through many times of stepping but of chronolo.gical time into kyriological moments. So, come! I was tired, as though ~at the end of a long journey. Long it had been, for 1 had journeyed into the human condition to find that the next stage of the journey was just beginning. I have joyfully met you along the way. Come! O God, in mercy bless us; let your face beam with joy as you look down on us. Send us around the world with the news of your saving power and your eternal plan for all people. How everyone throughout the earth will praise you! (Ps 67:1-3, adapted The Way). An Apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice by Max Oliva, S.J. Price: $.50 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Developmental Stages and the Contemporary Male Novice Jonathan Foster, O.F.M. Father Jonathan is Director of Continuing Education for the Chicago-St. Louis Province of Franciscans. He holds a Ph.D. from the University of Chicago in Adult Education and Develop-ment. His present address is Office of Continuing Education; 3400 St. Paschal Drive; Oak Brook, IL 60521. Writing an article such as this is a precarious business. The study of adult development stages is of fairly recent origin in the empirical sciences. There is some very interesting theory (Erikson, 1963, 1964; Kohlberg, 1968; Levinson, 1978; Fowler, 1978; Vaiilant, 1977), but not an abundance of evidence. Moreover, what theory and evidence exist leave us with no clearcut delimita-tion of such stages. One prominent developmentalist (Neugarten) has in fact stated that all we know is that there is some development in adults. Its precise staging is by no means widely accepted. An article such as this is also precarious because of the subject of interest: novices. They comprise no one adult developmental stage. In recent years in my own community, the age range has run from twenty-two to fifty. To treat them all as "young adults" is obviously to allow some of them to fall through the cracks, or, if you will, off the end. Nevertheless, I will attempt to make some sense out of the evidence we have to date, and apply this to a reasonable estimate of what a novice is. I take the age of a typical novice from our Vocation Center's projection of the next few classes currently in pre-novitiate programs for our province. According to this projection, the age of most novices in the immediate future will fall between twenty-two and twenty-eight. There will certainly be a few older than this. But it is not likely, in view. of current policies, that there will be any younger. The observations I will make here will concern the generality of 832 Developmental Stages / 883 young American adults, from whose company we can assume most novices come. According to Levinson (1978), the essential task of the young adult is to separate himself .from emotional dependence on his family and the social structure from which he comes-- not thesame, it should be noted, as destroy-ing his roots. He does this by exploring different possibilities for making his life and creating a stable life structure in which to live out whatever this separation has led him to. Both elements, exploration and stabilization, need equal attention during this period. In one way or another, ehch of the stages we shall look at attempt to deal with this dynamic. The Developmental Task: Identity and Dream Formation I am treating these two stages as one because of their intimate connection with each other. By identity I mean the ability of the individual to see himself as essentially the same person as he passes through the many, even profound, changes of his life. The first great change in a person's life is the traumatic passage from adolescence to adulthood with all the separation and newness it brings with it. The achievement of identity is not so much the search for something new and frustratingly elusive as it is the maintenance and building of a "unique and reasonably coherent whole".(Erikson, 1968), something that holds together and remains ultimately the same despite the shock of change, and the addition of the new. In other words, "identity" is not exclu-sively drawn from within. It is built on a given reality growing out of the experience of community, persons, the historical times, and especially at this age, out of ideology. Ideology is a vision according to which the individual wants to live. Identity in this ideological sense moves into dream formation, a concep-tion of life that the individual picks oi~t as most suitable to his personality. Identity is thus not a mere summation of all experiences a young man has. It is the process by which he tries to integrate what he already knows about himself with elements of experience that seem to promise him a vision and purpose by which he can live and give meaning to life. In this process he must perceive himself as at core unchanged. The question he must answer at this stage of life is simply, "Do I fit with this dream?" Several elements go into the achieving of this identity. One of the principal catalysts is the attraction of a strong ideological system, such as, for example, the Franciscan way of life. This is the "dream." It may stem from a purely ideological contact with St. Francis. But it does not become a real and viable dream until it is experienced in a vital institutional reality, and in attractive personalities living it out. In accepting and trying out the "lived dream," it is especially important that there be at least one special person who embodies that dream, and inter-prets it to the new aspirant in a way that has personal significance to him. This 834 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 is the mentor so often spoken of today. He is not typically a hcro at a distance--though this is possible--but, in our context, a committed religious who shares the younger religious' visionandwho pays special attention to the latter's apprenticeship in that vision. The first reality is probab!y of more significance to older communities with well-known and charismatic founders. We find it particularly so in the Franciscan order, whose founder is one of the most popular and attractive men in history. The problem is this, that today, to a far greater extent than in earlier years, young men are attracted to the Franciscan order precisely by the dream, with relatively less experience of those who profess to embody it. Up to fifteen years ago, most aspirants came to the order out 6f heavily Franciscan contexts, attracted, not by the historical vision of St. Francis--of which they had but a dim view--but by the actual way in which Franciscan priests and brothers lived their own vision of religious life, or by a traditional piety which was, upon close examination, barely distinguishable from that of any other religious order. The dream that attracts candidates today, however, is more often.in touch with the historical view. Candidates thus are more likely to be confused and puzzled by their encounter with many friars who entered the order out of con-tact with Franciscans, not St. Francis, and who may seem, therefore, to the candidate to have rationalized the historical "dream" away. It creates in him, moreover, great insecurities that perhaps his vision is not a real one, or that "those who count" may not view his "dream" as an acceptable version of the Franciscan vision. It is for this reason, once more, that the mentor is extremely important to the young religious, to reassure him--perhaps even to play the advocate before "those who count." In this connection, it seems desirable that the place where novices live should not feature a uniform view of the particular order's "dream." Both staff and community should display some diversity in interpretation of that "dream." Thus both mentor and community can at once challenge and support the candidate's perception of the "dream." Another identity-related problem with this age-group is the prolongation of the moratorium (Erikson, 1963). This is a period of life, usually beginning with adolescence and lasting an indeterminate period (often well into the mid-twenties), in which an individual, committed to nothing, explores and plays with a variety of possibilities or dreams. This is an entirely legitimate develop-ment, perhaps one that many of us never fully undertook. Ideally, it ought to be completed by the time of entry into novitiate, but in today's society, which increasingly delays adulthood, it is not at all unlikely that a candidate will try novitiate with the same degree of uncommittedness as he might hax~e tried being a cowboy in the nineteenth century. Novitiate, it seems, implies some degree of commitment to the dream, and"should not be 'viewed as a moratorium experience. A third problem is that young adults at the "identity-dream formation" Developmental Stages / 835 stage are given to caricaturization. In an attempt to make the dream fit, and fit so securely as to cover all aspects of the aspirant's reality, he tends to see it in terms of black and white. Consequently, he tends to portray his chosen dream somewhat unrealistically, and even to be intolerant of other dreams. The attraction of young people to an oversimplified view of life and reality is well known, and applies just as much to novices in religious orders. Kohibert (1968) and Fowler (1978) have both pointed out that people at this stage of development make moral and religious judgments primarily in terms of their commitment to a particular group of people or an institution which they see as embodying their dream. This is distinct from making judgments in terms of abstract principles applicable to one~'.s own group as well as others. Such a development is perhaps natural and necessary. However, the activity of an overzealous or overly charismatic director--or indeed mentor--can play directly into this .,caricaturizing tendency and allow it to sharpen into a dangerously unrealistic view of life. A further problem is that powerful religious conversions sometimes occur at this stage. Individuals allow themselves to be so overwhelmed by a vision or dream .that they cease to see continuity between what they were before the conversion and what they see themselves to have become because of the conversion. Indeed often they do not want to see the continuity. Such conver-sions, apart from rare cases, are obviously disruptive to the developmental process of identity formation. Of some interest to directors of a novitiate, which, ambng other things, is a time of an intense and unremitting daily round of organized prayer, is the attitude of young adults towards organized religiosity. It is in the latter phases of identity formation that participation in formal religious practice is typically at its very lowest ebb. This usually reflects the individual's attempt to separate himself from dependence on his family and culture, including the religious structure bound up with that. The fact is that it is precisely in the novitiate year that aspiring religious are subjected to the most intense exposure to formal religiosity they will perhaps ever know, and this may rub a bit excessively against the developmental grain. Some caution must be urged, too, concerning the possibilities of contem-plation at this stage. True religious contemplation--by means of which the individual, while retaining his identity, is drawn out of himself into union with God--is objectively oriented. It assumes some stable sense of identity. It is for this reason that religious contemplation is not normally found in young adults and most often flourishes in the more contented self-acceptance of mature adulthood. What passes for contemplation among the young is more typically a preoccupation with the achieving of identity than the handing over of this identity into union with God. The young adult is by developmental necessity more self-centered, indeed self-absorbed, than other-centered. Novitiate directors need to keep this in mind when inculcating habits of prayer and contemplation. To speak of the novitiate as a "year of contemplation" 8:36 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 can be misleading, and even, in terms of what both novices and their directors expect to happen, damaging. The Developmental Task: Intimacy Intimacy is basically the task of learning to establish close relationships with others, to respect human beings as ends, not mere means, of learning to communicate. It is a form of love, and it is the love that characterizes persons at this age. Erikson (1964) distinguishes this love of Relationship from the love of Care that is characteristic of the more mature adult. The task of intimacy may be described as one of the major tests of a person's identity. If this identity is'securely in hand, then one is capable of risking it in relationship, and indeed must do so. If the identity is not secure, intimacy is more difficult to achieve and is often avoided or at least sim~ated. Most young people, however, make serious forays into intimate or quasi-intimate relationships at this stage. Intimacy is indeed the task that marriage at this age seeks to accomplish. The relationship is not, however, exclusively heterosexual, although this is the typical form it takes. Erikson (1964), in a phrase reminiscent of St. Francis of Assisi who urged his brothers to exercise a mother's love for their confreres, wrote that intimacy also happens when "young adults become sons of each other." The failure to achieve intimacy results to some degree or other in isolation, the inability to relate deeply. A number of structures will be important in a novitiate to enable the process of intimacy achievement to go forward. Obviously, there must be opportunities for the development of friendships, including friendships with women. Some friendship will be available within the community, but since friendship-making is highly selective, this may not always be the case. With the smaller novitiate classes prevalent today, making intimate friendships has become more difficult. Larger classes make such relationships more possible. Smaller numbers limit the possibility. Given these smaller numbers, the importance of locating the novitiate in a community which includes a substan: tial number of other religious seems important. For this reason, close friend-ships outside the novitiate community cannot be excluded either. Hence the advisability of allowing, indeed encouraging, other forms of maintaining friendship contact: visits, correspondence, telephones. The mentor is very important to this task. The mentor-relationship is an intimate one when it is exercised in spiritual direction, confession, or simple friendship. There is indeed a case to be made (Levinson, 1978) for the "Special Woman" as mentor to the young male adult. In this relationship, intimacy expands easily into a heterosexuality which is less threatening to the celibacy aspect of the dream. A lived brotherhood is important for the young adult. Not only does it increase the likelihood of selective friendship, but failing this, still allows for a considerable amount of sharing at a deeper level. In this respect, the current emphasis in most orders on brotherhood or community is an especially attrac- Developmental Stages / 837 tive aspect of/he dream for young men. The achievement of intimacy in an all-male structure presents special problems. Women, in such situations, tend to get caricaturized. They may be over-romanticized as indispensable partners in the life-journey. They may be feared as a threat to the dream. Or they may be ridiculed as a result of a cultural residue of male chauvinism, a position unfortunately supported by a large segment of the male ecclesiastical establishment. Hence, it is important that novices have an on-going encounter with women their own age, such as for example the inter-novitiate program in the Chicago area where novices from several different communities of men and women meet weekly for study, prayer and informal interaction. However, it is also interesting to note that, even in the larger world, many men get so caught up in their dream, or their career, that women do not romantically interest them at this stage. This may very well describe the situa-tion of the modern novice, as we shall note when we discuss career consolida-tion below. What frequently happens, however, is that once they reach the thirties, some of that pressure lifts, and the quest for intimacy with women starts anew, including a deep interest in marriage. Homosexuality is a form of intimacy, and is, of course, always a problem in the all-male society. This is more true today when there has been some social legitimation of the homosexual friendship. There is simply no way of avoiding this possibility, and directors should understand that an occasional homosexual encounter neither automatically implies homosexuality nor is necessarily grounds for expulsion. Finally, the concern for intimacy explains in part the young religious' preference for one-to-one ministries over the ministries involving administra-tion, leadership and social change. It is the need for people in his life. Developmental Stage: Career Consolidation Vaillant (1977) points out that an intermediary stage occurs between Erikson's stages of Intimacy and Generativity, one that Erikson did not fully consider. This is the stage at which the young adult becomes preoccupied with establishing work skills and climbing the career ladder. It begins in the twen-ties, and lasts usually throughout most of the thirties. What is important about this period is the mastery of a craft, the seeking of approval for one's work and achievements, the thrust of ambition, the excitement of developing a career, the sheer pleasure of work and success. It is a time when the vividness of the dream recedes, and the individual focuses rather on the work associated with the dream. The role of the mentor also declines. Thus, what guides the young adult at this stage is neither parent, mentor, nor even dream. It is the satisfaction of the work itself. What happens at this stage may very well be the triumph of the larger society's "Dream" in the individual, the American Dream of Success and Achievement. Certain it is that American society strongly rewards work, achievement and success. It is not surprising that the 838 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 career-consolidation stage is accompanied to a large extent by the decline of the intense inner life that characterized the stages of Dream Formation and Intimacy. Given the increasing number of older candidates entering religious life, especially those already committed to or having just finished intensive preparation for professional careers, it is important that directors be aware of this dynamism. To the extent that this development stage is at work, the novice must have opportunities to exercise his competence, not, perhaps, in his chosen career, but at least in some area of novitiate life. This means that he shall have to be given some area of responsibility that is more than sweeping a corridor~ He must, moreover, be constantly able to exercise at least the basic tools of all work-competence: the hands, the mind, the imagination," and judgment-making that has consequences. The larger question may be to what extent this professional training and competence already acquired may have on the novitiate experience. Such training and competence may have achieved apart from the dream formation which the novitiate agenda is all about. It may even be somewhat separate from-- even in conflict with -- that dream. Yet it usual-ly has brought continued rewards and satisfaction so necessary at this stage of life. It is not clear to me how a novitiate experience handles such a conflict. But for a novitiate director to simply ignore this previous experience does not seem to me to constitute a reasonable response. These, then, are the stages of development likely to be encountered in a given novitiate class. Because of their fluidity and because of the individuality with which each person passes through them, they are perhaps useful more as mind-sets by the director than as the basis for actual guidelines. Three recom-mendations emerge strongly from their consideration, however. The first is the necessity to view a novitiate as a highly individualized experience. Not a solitary experience, but one which a group of young men move through together, each following to whatever extent necessary his own individual track. Obviously, Group Spiritual Direction is no substitute for individual attention. Which leads to the second recommendation, the need for mentors. Whether this role is carried out by the director, his associate, a chosen spiritual director, or another member of the religious community, its impor-tance is critical. Finally, given the social context of Identity/Dream Forma-tion and Intimacy, it seems important that the novitiate be not a sequestered experience. A director and his novices should not go off to the woods by themselves for a year. They should live in an extensive friar community and they should be in regular, on-going contact with the community-dream-- manifested certainly in its documents, but even more so by regular in-depth contact with the people who incarnate that dream in their lives. Yes Peter G. van Breemen, S.J. Father van Breemen is a staff member of the newly erected Dutch Center of Spirituality Om Vuur; Twelloseweg 5; 7419 BJ Deventer, The Netherlands. This article is a chapter from his forthcoming book, Certain as the Dawn, scheduled for publication by Dimension Books (Denville, N J) in the fall of 1980. doration always implies surrender, a fiat. In fact adoration is a surrender of our whole being, a dedication of all our affection, a gift of every minute of our time. Adoration has to be lived; it commands a life-style. Since adoration is the ultimate, it includes everythir~g. Adoration is a Yes, expressed with or without words during prayer, but then lived every single moment of the day and of the night. Being the ultimate, adoration also provides perspective to all that precedes; the total Yes injects meaning into everything that is encom-passed by it. Three concise lines which Dag HammarskjOld wrote in his diary in March 1956, some five years before his tragic death, offer a framework for a meditafibn on Yes. You dare your Yes--and experience a meaning. You repeat your Yes--and all things acquire a meaning. When everything has a meaning, how can you live anything but a Yes!~ You Dare Your Yesmand Experience a Meaning "Yes" is a daring word: it implies arisk and requires courage. It means a leaving behind in order to move ahead. We leave behind what is certain and we ventureinto the unknown. We give up what has become dear and proceed as a ' Dag HammarskjOld, Markings, transl, by Leif SjOberg and W. H. Auden (London, Faber & Faber), p. 110. 839 840 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 free person without looking back. "None of you can be my disciple if he does not renounce all his possessions (Lk 14:33). "Whoever puts his hand to the plow but keeps looking back is unfit for the reign of God" (Lk 9:62). It can be very hard to really say good-bye. A famous French proverb claims it is mourir un peu, a little, dying. It means farewell to people and to things to which we are far more attached than we realized. We give to the people with whom we live and we take from them. Somehow we are more aware of the sacrificing during the actual process, while the receiving becomes more manifest after it has stopped. It is like the various organs of the body which we easily take for granted as long as they function well, whereas we learn to appre.ciate them most when ill. It is only in the concrete leaving that we find out how dependent we are on the things we have collected during the years, how we have become entangled in the small world of our hands, our minds, our hearts. We have developed our own ways of enjoying and asserting ourselves in that small world, even to the point of imposing it on others. We have learned to manage in it. To leave means to cut the ego. That is one reason why we shrink from giving up the past. Being human is essentially living in an exodus-situation. Leaving is part of life. We have to ready ourselves in many .minor rehearsals for the final farewell which is the only absolute certainty of everybody's life. Apart from God, everything in life is transitory: everything biological, social, political, intellectual, etc. The refusal to accept this passing quality of life causes stunted growth, induration, and in extreme cases, neurosis. The early Chris-tians sometimes called their faith "The Way." God is always greater; he keeps us continually on the move. "Here we have no lasting city; we are seeking one which is to come" (Heb 13:14). Jesus stressed that the kingdom of God re-quires the Gift of self: "Whoever would save his life will lose it, whoever loses his life for my sake will find it" (Mt 16:25). The giving up of oneself in this life is not done once and for all; it is an ever-growing gift of self and demands an increasing willingness to sacrifice. To leave people and things behind does not mark the end; rather it opens up a new beginning in a wider context. The severing of the umbilical cord introduces the baby into the family; the leaving of the family's security challenges the adolescent to venture into a big world; the renouncing which Jesus demands leads us into the kingdom of God. The pruning is for increas-ing the yield. The Father is glorified in our bearing much fruit. It is not the stripped, stifled, petty life that honors him, but the life which surges to the full. Jesus leads the way. This man-for-others appeals. The reflection of his intimacy with his Father intrigues and invites us. He calls us to follow. We do not know where his way will lead us, but we do have an intuition that it will transform us for the better. If our hearts are cluttered with houses or land, relatives or friends, job or hobby, he is going to set us free so that we can go forward. All that remains will be love--serving God and serving people. The Yes is particularly scary because it is so personal. It affects the deepest 841 in me, where I am most myself. There exists no mold for it. It is my yes, such as no one before me has ever said and in which no one can really accompany me. The Yes condenses my whole self. I have 'to descend into the depths of my self in order to perform the act of my life. The person who wants always to be upheld by others could never go that far. Yet in saying Yes, there is a solidarity with others which gives strength and inspiration. The community of all those who spoke their Yes gives us support. Outstanding is the help of Mary who is an immaculate Yes, a simple fiat. Above all, her Son in his absolutely unambiguous and unrestricted Yes, enables us to dare our Yes: "Jesus Christ. was not alternately 'yes' and 'no'; he was never anything but 'yes.' Whatever promises God had made have been fulfilled in him; therefore it is through him that we address our Amen to God." (2 Co 1:19-20). Nevertheless it remains an adventure to follow Jesus in his Yes. It entails giving up tangible security and the felt affirmation by others. It is an act of faith. "Yes" is a word of freedom; to be authentic it can never be forced. Ultimately it can be said only to a person, not to a thing or an institution. The German author Giinther Grass once wrote an enigmatic little "poem" to which he gave the title "Yes." This house has two exits; I use the third one. Between Anne and Anne, I choose for Anne. The interpretation is said2 to be that both exits of the house lead into meaning-lessness which G~nther Grass rejects. The third exit is not something but someone: Anne. Between Anne the saint and Anne the sinner, between Anne the beautiful and Anne the unattractive, the poet chooses the actual Anne, and through her finds life meaningful. His yes to the real Anne saves him from the existentialist void. Grass' poetic riddle rhymes well with HammarskjOld's clear entry: "You dare your Yes--and experience a meaning." Meaning implies more than an intellectual conviction; it comprehends the whole of life. True meaning is beyond success or failure. The Way leads to the wisdom of the cross; this is a disaster which is a triumph, and a victory which is a catastrophe. The paschal mystery unites the horror of the crucifixion and the glory of the resurrection. The folly of the cross reveals the ultimate mean-ing. The following of Jesus leads beyond the antithesis of humiliation and elevation. The Way leads into a new realm of life where old values acquire a new perspective and where what used to be considered meaningless shows an unexpected significance. Therefore it provides a tremendous strength for making sacrifices. As long as we count the cost, seek our own comfort, fight for our position or strive for recognition we have not yet said a whole-hearted gsef Sudbrack, S.J., in Geist und Leben 48, October 1974, pp. 346-347. 842 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 Yes nor experienced the true meaning of life. You Repeat~Your Yes--and All Things Acquire a Meaning It is not enough to say Yes just once, It has to,be repeated over and over again. We have to set out on a way and we have to carry on step by step. Our Yes is a growing reality; the further we go, the deeper and richer its content. The resistance, of course, is always there. We do not want to reiterate it in ever new circumstances. We find ourselves, like Jacob, resisting the angel of Yahweh (Gn 32:23~33). During the night Jacob crosses the ford of the Jabbok and untildaybreak he wrestles with aman whom he does not know is a divine messenger. At the end of his fight he asks for the stranger's blessing. He then receives a new name, Israel, meaning "you contehded with divine beings." In his struggle against God he becomes injured and keeps on limping. It is a strange, but .typical story. How difficult to recognize God in his numerous disguises. How easy to consider him a threat to be fought. How often is our encounter with God, before it becomes a bow to receive his blessing, first a long, dark ~resistance. How much harm do we inflict on ourselves in that opposition. Every refusal to repeat our Yes does harm to our personality; it stifles our growth, eats out our joy and reduces the meaningfulness of our life. What follows are self-concern, grudges, resentment, compensations, addic-tions of all kinds, polarization which we stretch too far, fencing in against other people. The half-hearted Yes creates impaired persons, very much unlike the kind God wants us to be. "I know your deeds; I know you are neither hot nor cold. How I wish you were one or the other--hot or cold! But because you are lukewarm, neither hot nor cold, I will spew you out of my mouth!" (Rv 3:15-16). The Yes has to be repeated so often that it includes everything in the past, in the present and in the future. As long as there is something in my past which I reject, there is still a screen in me that pr~events my being transparent. That which I repress or resent splits my inner self, or becomes a heavy chain I drag along behind me. It may take time to really accept the suffering or the failure that came to me, maybe long ago, but it is vital that I do accept it. The Yes can create a meaning where first there was none. The repeated Yes will become more mature, more profound, more silent, and eventually it will extract light from the dark, radiance from, the cross. "We know that God makes all things work together for the good of those who have been called according to his decree" (Rm 8:28). To say Yes is to accept the present. It means to acknowledge gratefully the talents and the possibilities I have without thinking that all of them have to be realized. It means to accept my limitations in health, education, character, etc., while at thesame time trying to overcome them. It means to transform gently weaknesses into strength, innate temptations into grace, given potential into a ripe harvest. It means to say Yes to the lives of others and to give them the room and the sympathy they need. It means to accept the situation I am in, Yes / 843 and myself in that situation. To repeat my Yes will lead to self-acceptance which in turn, will make everything else meaningful. It is obvious of course, that the Yes is not identical with a limp settling for anything, neglecting all attempts to improve things. The opposite is true: it is only by accepting them that things can be improved. No effort born of anger, impatience or resentment will bear fruit. An example may illustrate this point. Suppose the parents of a stuttering boy have great difficulty in accepting /he child's handicap. Whenever he stammers, they harshly make him repeat his words. One evening the parents discuss the situation. They both had noticed that the stuttering was becoming worse and they begin to see that the pressure they put on the boy may have something to do with it. So they decid~ to make no more remarks when the child stammers. Both father and mother manage to live up to their resolution, and yet they find that the speech handi-cap is becoming still worse. After some time, they talk things over once more and discover that, in their first discussion, they had changed only their policy, their external approach, but not their interior attitude. They had stopped scolding all right, but they still resented the stuttering. The boy was no longer being reprimanded, but he still felt the pressure of disappointing his parents. At this :pOint the parents break through to a new mentality and accept the boy as he is, with his stuttering. The paradox is that from now onward, the child can slowly improve in his speech because he no longer has to. This is a real paradox: as long as the parents resentfully demanded it, progress was blocked; after thedefect is accepted in peace, it begins to improve. In some cases we are simultaneously both the parents and the boy! The Yes to the future is a stark act of faith since we do not know what ~ve are saying Yes to. It is only the confidence in a person that enables us to say Yes for better or for worse. In the wedding it is the trust in the spouse, together ¯ with our faith in God that allows us to engage in a common future and to accept whatever it has in store. In ordination and in religious profession it is--over and above the reliance on the community--the belief in the living God that constitutes the basis for commitment. Without a strong spirit of faith, it would be utter foolishness to promise solemnly and forever poverty, chastity, and obedience. In fact the beauty and the testimony of the vows con-sists precisely in their being so explicitly an act of faith. When Everything Has a Meaning, How Can You Live Anything But a Yes! The faithful repetition of our Yes eventually leads us to the watershed where life starts flowing in another direction. The uphill climb pays off in a panoramic perspective and gracious ease to live the Yes continuously. The pilgrim has become single-hearted and now sees God everywhere. The purity of his eye penetrates to the deepest Ground of everything and discerns all as grace-filled and meaningful. This in turn reinforces the Yes. Life has become whole and holy. Meaninglessness implies that the various life-experiences are disconnected 844 / Review for Religious, l/olume 39, 1980/6 and therefore disconcerting. It just does not make sense! They present a void which creates feelings of despair. They paralyze all efforts to do something about it because they suggest that it is all useless anyway. Suicide becomes an alluring temptation. In the realm beyond the watershed the isolated pieces fall into place and show a pattern never perceived before. Perhaps it is more accu-rate to say that the change takes place not so much in the objective reality as in our view of it. We have finally reached the vantage point where we have the right perspective. The total Yes has rendered all reality transparent and coherent. We feel like Jacob awakening from his dream at Bethel: "Truly, the Lord is in this spot, although I did not know it!" (Gn 28:16). A deep joy a~ccompanies this experience. It is like coming home after a long, hopeless meander. That home is really the presence of God. We now recognize him everywhere, even where previously we had discerned nothing whatsoever of him. He is the bond that connects all. It is the old concept of divine providence which we rediscover in shining newness. Meaningfulness then, is not some-thing, but someone. God has nothing since he is the creator of all. He does not produce something which he then delivers. He remains the living center of all that is; without him, it could not be. In everything he gives, he gives himself as well; therefore he can be found in everything. It is ohly in recognizing God this way that reality acquires its full meaning, is allowed to be all that it is meant to be. The basic trust which is so vital for human well-being now extends to all of reality. "Nothing can separate us from the love of God." (Rm 8:39). The surrender can now be complete. How can we live anything but a Yes? We can join in with Charles de Foucauld in his prayer of abandonment: Father. I abandon myself into your hands; do with me what you will. Whatever you may do, 1 thank you: I am ready for all, I accept all. Let only your will be done in me, and in all your creatures-- I wish no more than this, 0 Lord. Into your hands l commend my soul; I offer it to you with all the love of my heart, for ! love you Lord, and so need to give myself, to surrender myself into your hands, without reserve, and with boundless confidence, for you are my father. Others, to art.iculate their gift of self, may prefer the older prayer of St. Ignatius of Loyola at the end of his Spiritual Exercises: Take, Lord, all my liberty. Receive my memory, my understanding, my whole will, Yes / 845 all that I have and possess. You have given all to me; I return it all to you. Do with me as you will; Give me only your love and your grace. with these I am rich enough and ! desire nothing more. In Luke's Gospel we find an expression of total abandonment that is still much older and took only one word:fiat. With it Mary chooses obedience as the pattern of her life, "Let it be done to me as you say" (Lk 1:38); through it she surrenders her body to God, and all her possessions are also included in this one act of abandonment. Said in a moment, it is spelled out in a lifetime. As a sheaf is bound in the middle and fans out towards the ends, so the life of Mary, in all its bounty, is held together by this little word. All her years before this moment flow into it and all the rest of her life flows from it. God's grace enables her to say it, and in saying it, she enables God's grace to work in her. It directs her whole beirig towards God and away from selfishness and self-concern. It makes her completely transparent so that through her the Light in its fullness can come into the world. It creates the room God needs to become man. Jesus is the embodiment of. Mary's Yes, the fruit of her fiat; greater fruitfulness is inconceivable. Her fiat in no way stymies her personality; in fact, it brings her utter fulfillment and is the prototype of all Christian fruit-fulness. We come to you, Mother of our Lord and Mother of us all, to thank you for your Yes that gave us the incarnation of God's own Yes and brought life to its fullness. We ask you, teach us to follow you in saying our Yes with faith and courage. You know the cost of living the Yes; protect ours in integrity and joy. Ask your divine Son for the grace always to repeat our Yes with an ever-growing surrender and to experience how this increases the meaningfulness of our life. Under your inspiration may we help to build the kingdom of God today and every day, for ever and ever. Amen. The Social Context of Personal Prayer in Seminaries Stephen Happel Father Happel is Associate Professor of Systematic Theology at St. Meinrad Seminary; St. Meinrad, IN 47577. This article is based on an earlier paper originally published in Learning to Pray Alone (Abbey Press), pp. 34-43. Private prayer is never accomplished without a social, communal context. Individual prayer has not only social conditions and social ramifications, but also social ingredients which quaiify and constitute its very nature. Our private languages are learned in the public forum. We speak to ourselves because others have spoken to us and because we have learned to speak to them. So too with God. Both the personal vocabulary and private grammar of our speech with God are primarily social-ecclesial in their initial stages (whether learned from parents or teachers), in their performance from day to day, and in their various results (ministering to others, praying with others, allowing the kingdom to be formed). If one combines this sense of the social dimension, indeed social constitu-tion, of prayer with its fundamental component, dialogue with the Other, then that Other will almost necessarily have the characteristics of the "social other" experienced at any given point in human development. So, for exam-ple, in one's earlier years, speaking with God is accomplished in the horizon of the discipline and "otherness" of one's parents. Religious psychologists maintain that it is possible atany given point in an individual's life to indicate the creative synthesis of parental figures which qualifies the notion of God.' Thus, I will maintain in the following that "the other" in the seminary context ' See A. Vergote, Psychologie religieuse (Brussels: Dessart, 1966), esp. pp. 294-299, 307. The Social Context of Personal Prayer / 847 will radically qualify the ability or inability of individuals to pray alone. How is "the other" experienced in the seminary environment? Needless to say, the reflections offered here should not be taken so much as judgment, but as description. It may be true that the achievement of human freedom in relation to God is the goal of seminary education programs; but what sort of inter-active freedom does seminary structure actt~ally provide? The typological description of institutional structure which follows is not so much an analysis of any particular seminary as it is the affective grid of the institution-known-as- seminary. I offer it as an hypothesis about the problem, and suggest that facing it constructively may assist in achieving a solution to the problem of praying privately.2 The Perfect Society: A Unity of Transcendentals The seminary, whatever its historical origins, seems to think of itself as an autonomous, indeed "perfect society." In an updated version of this ideal, it would be described as a place in which all would be brothers and sisters; in which power would intelligently persuade and invite to participation rather than willfully force; in which external forms of .religious expression would always mirror interior dispositions; and in which each person's relation to sur-rounding Nature would be in terms of appreciating and creating Beauty, rather than exploiting it. Affect and reason would be coincident; and the Good would necessarily flow from and be the origin of both. The truth would always be told; the good would always be practiced; and the beautiful would be in evidence everywhere. Institutional structure would incarnate and measure this integration; individuals would readily learn to assume the responsibility of living these goal,s; and, as St. Paul says, God would be "all in all." This enlightened reincarnation of Christian society, however, contains two major oversights of fact: namely, the overwhelmingly transient character of a seminary's student population, and what has been gracefully entitled by a colleague of mine "human sloth." These may be described in more classical terms as "the finite character of the human condition," and "original sin." Now the inclusion of these two facts of human experience into our descrip-tion of societal mix does not justify removing the human odcasion for achiev-ing freedom. I do not subscribe to the simplification which would suggest: "Mistakes will be made; therefore remove the possibility of mistakes." But their inclusion does allow us to see what happens when it is assumed that an institution can easily incarnate the human good without reference to the criticism required by the acknowledgement of finitude and guilt. The first consequence of these two facts is that power will inevitably fall to 2 1 am also convinced that some of the problems discussed and the solutions proposed, if utilized, would go a long way in aiding contemporary Catholic seminaries in their task of acculturating the older students who are entering seminary at present. 848 / Review for Religious, l/olume 39, 1980/6 those who remain the longest in the situation, in this case to the faculty and administration. The second is that this power will be concretized in a bureaucracy which is supposed to "run the system" irrespective of the iden-tities of the participants. Students, faculty, staff, and administration will all feel victims of "the other" who is the system (confer the,response to ques-tions: "That's the way it's done around here," noting especially the neuter passive construction). But because students are the primary mobile popula-tion, they will feel the alienation of power

Issue 31.3 of the Review for Religious, 1972. ; ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. QUESTIONS ANI) A N S\V E R S E 1) ITO R Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editor, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Build-ing; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, SJ.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of l)ivinity of St. Louis University, 01e editorial offices beihg located at 612 tlumboldt Building; 539 North (;rand Boulevard: St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Educalional In';titute. Published bimontbly and copyright © 1972 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.25. SuBscription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year. $11.00 for two years; other countries: $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders sbould indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and sbould be accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S,A. cur-rency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former addre.~s. Renewals and new subscriptions should be sent to REVIEW I:OR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 60 Duluth. Minnesota 55802. Manuscripts, editori-al correspondence, and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS: 612 [lumboldt Building; 539 North (;rand Boule-yard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of tile Questions and Answers editor. MAY 1972 VOLUME 31 NUMBER 3 BENEDICT ASHLEY, O.P. ¯ Retirement or V gil? [ Benedict Ashley, O.P., is Profess6r of Theology at The Institute of Religion and Human " Development; Texas Medical Center; P.O. Box 20569; Houston, Texas 77025.] Retirement and the Work Ethic To provide for the retirement of senior members has bdcome an urgent task for many religious communities. D~clining vocations, risfng medical costs, changes in traditional apostolates and in sources of income demand that we develop new, organized ways to care for those who have reached that last, often lengthy phase of life which we Americans call "retirement." The action of Pope Paul VI in requesting even cardinals and bishops to retire acknowledges that in times of rapid change older persons, for all their expe~'ience and "tested virtue," often lack the energy and flexibility to carry on the apostolate. However reasonable this trend may seem to those long dist~int from the "cut-off point," it is prQducing great anxiety, discontent, . and bitterness in many aging religious. This intensifies the polarization against which many communities now struggle. Recently an elderly but very much alive sister said to me: "What a paradox that our community is how so concerned to give younger sisters free choice¯ of apostolates, while forcing older sisters to retire willy-nilly. I was told to retire last year without any consultation or discussion of my preferences. My only choice, which was no choice at all, was to come to this retirement house. The young are demanding small interpersonal communities. I must live with over a hundred sisters, most of them sick, some completely senile, although my health is good, my mind active, and I like to live with young people, 'where the action is.' " Of course, some communities take great pains to discuss the situation carefully with members who must retire from present apostolates, to give them choices and training for a "second career," or at least maximum opportunities for "semi-activity." They realize that the problem of these religious is, after all, only part of the larger geriatric problem in the United States which will probably increase still further as our national birthrate continues to decline, and the average age of Americans begins to rise. However, I wonder if the very term "retirement" does not reflect the dehumani-zation of our technological society. It is borrowed from the practice of American business and starkly reflects the "work ethic" dominating our culture, against which the counter-culture is rightly protesting. This ethic evaluates human 'worth only in terms of production, organizational efficiency, capacity for marketable innovation. It values "doing and making," but ignores the values of "being," unless they can be translated into commodities. Even without the protests of the .counter-culture, we should know from the gospel that "man does not live by bread alone" (Mt 4:4) and that we have been told "do not be anxious for what you are to eat or wear, because unbelievers are always. running after these things" (Mt 6:31-32). The values of the work ethic are real and ¯ 326 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 are not repudiated by the gospel, but they are .~ternly subordinated to a very different appreciation of what really counts in life. Let us retire the term "retirement," and even "semi-activity." The notion of "a second career" is better, yet it too has a work ethic flavor. Moreover to talk about "second careers" to religious for whom it seems nothing remains of life but suffering, prayer, and gradual decline is to coin another of those horrible euphemisms with which we today in our society of affluence indecently hide the unacknowledged' miseries of neglected poverty and death. We are Christians who ought to have the courage to face the facts of old age with a realism warmed by Christian hope. Trying to wrestle with this fact of life theologically, I have found in the gospel a theme which seems to me very relevant, the notion of vigil. Christian Vigil The current liturgical reform began with the renewal of the Paschal Vigil, called by St. Augustine "the mother of all vigils," because it sums up the expectation of all ages of Christ's victory over death. Its meaning is beautifully stated in the General Instruction bn the Liturgy of the Hours issued by the Holy See in 1971 (nos. 70-2): [St.Augustine writes] "by keeping vigil, we observe that night when the Lord,arose, and by his own flesh began in us that life which knows neither sleep nor death. ; then as we sing together to the risen Lord a little while longer by keeping vigil, he will grant us to reign with him by living forever." Asin the Easter Vigil, the custom soon arose in different churches t6 begin various solemn feasts by keeping vigil, notably in the Birth of the Lord and Pentecost. The Fathers and spiritual writers frequently urged the faithful, especially those who live a contemplative life, to nocturnal prayer, which expresses and fosters our waiting for the Lord?s return: "At midnight someone shouted, 'The groom is here! Come out and greet him!' " (Matthew 25:6); "Keep watch! You do not know when the master of the house is coming; whether at dusk, at midnight, when the cock crows, or at early dawn. Do not let him come suddenly and catch you asleep" (Mark 13:35-36). To implement this idea the Church in its new calendar has not only given the Paschal Vigil the central place in the liturgical year and retained the ~vigils of the Birth of the Lord and of Pentecost, but recommends the use of "Bible vigils" (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, no. 35), and in the instruction just quoted encourages the use and development of the Office of Readings as a time of vigil, thus preserving the nocturns or night Office of the traditional Breviary. This last recommendation is not only for priests and nuns, but for the laity as well (Instruction, nos. 20-2). These liturgical reforms are rooted deeply in the New Testament. Jesus Himself prepared for the great moments of His life by keeping vigil. For forty days and nights (Mt 4:2) He prayed in the desert before beginning His ministry. Before extending it beyond Capernaum, He went to a "Ion.ely place" (Mk 1: 35) to pray till dawn. Before announcing His inevitable passion, He kept vigil with Peter, James, and John on the mount of transfiguration (Mk 9:1-8). On the eve of the passion He agonized in Gethsemane (Mk 14:32). In their turn the disciples and Mary kept vigil before Pentecost (Acts 1 : 14; 2:2). The newborn Christian community prayed for its leader Peter when he was in prison (Acts 12:5, 12), and before ordaining presbyters (4:23). Paul continued this custom on his missions (16:25). The significance of such vigils was indicated by Jesus Himself in many of His discourses and parables in which He urged his followers to "Watch, for you know Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 327 not the day nor the hour!" (Mt 25:13). If we look at the well-known work of Joachim Jeremias, The Parables of Jesus (rev. ed.; New York: Scribner's, 1963) we notice that he classifies the parables in ten groups: "1. Now is the Day of Salvation; 2. God's Mercy for Sinners; 3. The Great Assurance; 4. The Imminence of Catastrophe; 5. It May Be Too Late; 6. The Challenge of the Hour; 7. Realized Discipleship; 8. The Via Dolorosa and Exaltation of the Son of Man; 9. The Consummation; 10. Parabolic Actions." These very titles indicate how close all these themes are to the vigil concept, although groups 4, 5, and 6 are particularly pertinent. The parables constantly say: "Wake hp! Watch !" When we look at the Epistles we find that Peter and Paul and the others have the same pastoral advice. For example: Stay sober and alert. Your opponent the devil is prowling like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, solid in yo6r faith, realiz!ng that the brotherhood of believers is undergoing the same sufferings throughout the world. The God of all grace, who called you to his everlasting glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish those who have suffered a little while. Dominion be his throughout the ages. Amen (I Pt 5:8-10). Asregards specific times and moments, brothers, we do not need to write you; you know very well that the day of the Lord is coming like a thief in the night. Just when people are saying, "Peace and security," ruin will fall. You are not in the dark, brothers, that the day should catch you off guard, like a thief. No, all of you are children of light and of the day. We belong neither to darkness nor to night; therefore, let us not be asleep like the rest, but awake and sober! Sleepers sleep by night, and drunkards drink by night. We who live by day must be alert (1 Thes 5:1-8). The Theology of the Vigil To discover the the.ological meaning of these New Testament actions and teachings, we must begin with the obvious fact that a vigil is eschatological prayer. It is directed toward the future, toward Christ's victory over sin and death through Resurrection and Ascension, toward the coming of God's kingdom on earth through the mission of His Church, toward the universal transformation of the cosmos at Christ's Second Coming when all things will be summed up in Him in the glory of the Father (Phil 2:9-11 ; Col 1:15-20: Eph 1:18-23). A vigil is expectation in faith, hope, and yearning love directed to the future and eternal life. Its heart is joy, not the joy. of fulfillment, but the bitter-sweet joy of anticipation, a hunger and thirsting for the justice of God's reign. This is why a vigil humanly is a struggle to keep awake, to arouse ourselves from the oppression of drowsiness. The Apostles could not keep awake with Jesus in the Garden, because although "the spirit is willing, the .flesh is weak" (Mt 26:41). Luke says they slept because they were "exhausted with grief" (22:45). The weariness, discouragement, apathy, the numbing dread of waiting! Who has not waited in fear in a doctor's office? Waiting can be still more dreadful when we wait for some great joy, in growing doubt that it will ever come. During such painful times we all seek to escape the tension, to drug ourselves with some empty distraction or even sleep and forgetfulness. It is against this spiritual sleep that Jesus warns us. We must live in active hope, in wide-awake awareness, because in truth Jesus has already come. God is already present in our world if our eyes of faith are wide-open to sense His presence. The symbolism of "watching in the night" is simple and profound. This "night" is the world in the Johannine sense: "He was in the world, and through him the world was made, yet the world did not know who he was" (Jn 1 : 10). The world is humanity not in its earthliness or secularity, but in its hard-heartedness, self-centeredness, self-righteous pride and aggression which blind it to the present LOrd: 328 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 "Men loved darkness rather than the light, because their deeds were wicked" (Jn 3:19). It is in this night where God is present but man is absent from Him, in this shadow of death, that the Christian lives by faith and hope. Another element of the symbolism of the vigil is the silence, when the rush of activities, the vanity of human plans and boasted accomplishments, the flood of sights and sounds advertising expensive but delusive pleasures, conceal from us the reality of the void, the desert of human despair. Existentialism has revived for us this aspect of vigil, the search for authenticity. The Christian enters the desert of silence not to escape, but driven by the Holy Spirit to confront the Evil Spirit as Jesus was (Mk 1:12-3). Night has its peace and cessation from exterior work, but it is also the time of spiritual combat with angels, both evil and good. Tobiah struggled with an evil spirit and came out whole (Tobit 8); and Jacob with a good one, but was crippled (Gen 32:23-33). Night is man's encounter with the hidden levels of his personality and with the subtle cosmic influences that profoundly affect his life, yet which are covered over by his day-time activities. Watching, therefore, is not a mere passive waiting, but an active preparation, struggle, reflection, purgation, integration, simplification of life, requiring the use of the deepest human energies, it is an activity not at the periphery of human life where most of our "doing and making" take place, but in the central abyss of our being. Again, because it is eschatological, a vigil is also a time of judgment. Many of the Psalms speak of this nocturnal examination of conscience: 1 am wearied by sighing: every night I flood my bed with weeping. I drench my couch with my tears; My eyes are dimmed with sorrow. They have aged because of all my foes (Ps 6:7-8). I bless the Lord who counsels me; even in the night my heart exhorts me (16:7). i will remember you upon my couch, and through the night-watches I will meditate on you (63:7). By night my hands are stretched out with flagging; my soul refuses comfort. When l remember God, I moan; when i ponder, my spirit grows faint. You keep my eyes watchful: I am troubled and i cannot speak. I consider the days of old; the years long past I remember. In the night I meditate in my heart; [ ponder, and my spirit broods. "Will the Lord reject forever and nevermore be favorable?" (77:4-8). In a vigil we face ourselves in truth, we accept the punishment of remorse, we are freed from the burden of illusions. Even when our conscience does not reproach us, we come to understand that we are children of Adam, part of the inhuman race of men. Yet as Christians we do not come to judgment so much in fear as in petitiqn to be healed. Purgatory begins for us, a merciful cleansing through hope and longing, because a vigil is penitential, expiatory, redemptive. This is not because God exacts a payment for sin (it is only the unjust steward who thought God a hard master), but because He requires us to share in the work of repairing the damage we have done to others and to ourselves. "God's glory is man fully alive," as St. Irenaeus said, and the restoration of God's glory by penance is nothing other than the healing of man and of the broken relations between men by forgiveness. How does a vigil repair the human world? It does so first by healing the watcher himself, since in this purgatory he learns to forgive others and to lay down .the burden of his own follies. But a vigil is also communal. It is a time when together, at least in spirit, we pray for one another and share one another's burden of guilt and sorrow. Today, some people think prayer is only an excuse not to help others Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 329 through action, but even after we act we may find that our neighbor is still alienated from us by hidden barriers that nothing but prayer can ever pierce. Furthermore, a vigil is communal because it is a witness. Who has not been strengthened to know that another watches in prayer for him with a love that is ever awake? A vigil also always implies the coming dawn, the Resurrection, the rising Sun of Justice. At the heart of the vigil is the well fueled lamp of love, as Jesus indicated in the Parable of the Ten Virgins. He also asked: "When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?" (Lk 18:8). Matthew speaks of "charity" (24-12). The greatest human prdblem is to persevere in faithful love, a love that increases until the kingdom of God kindles like a consuming fire (Lk 12:49). This silently burning light in the night vigil is a fire stronger than the waters of death: "For stern as death is love, relentless as the grave in its devotion; its flames are a blazing fire" (Song of Songs8:6). The Paschal fire is the liturgical symbol of this "living flame of love," which John of the Cross and all the mystics tell us begins to burn in the dark night of the spirit. The Psychology of Later Life Recent developments in developmental ego-psychology, exemplified in the work of Erik Erikson, show us that the phases of human life all have or can have a positive meaning, including old age. It will suffice here to quote a passage from Erikson's Identity: Youth and Crisis (New York: Norton, 1968, pp. 139-40): In the aging person who has taken care of things and people and has adapted himself to the triumphs and disappointments of being, by necessity, the originator of others and the generator of things and ideas - only in him the fruit of the seven stages gradually ripens. I know no better word for it than integrity. Lacking a clear definition, I shall point to a few attributes of this stage of mind. It is the ego's accrued assurance of its proclivity for order and meaning - an emotional integration faithful to the image-bearers of the past and ready to take, and eventually to renounce, leadership in the present. It is the acceptance of one's one and only life cycle and of the people who have become significant to it as something that had to be and that, by necessity; permitted of no substitutions. It thus means a new and different love of one's parents, free of the wish that they should have been different, and an acceptance of the fact that one's life is one's own responsibility. It is a sense of comradeship with men and women of distant times and of different pursuits who have created orders and objects and sayings conveying human dignity and love. A meaningfulold age, then, preceding a possible terminal senility, serves the need for that integrated heritage which gives indispensable perspective to the life cycle. Strength here takes the form of that detached yet active concern with life bounded by death, which we call ~wisdom in its many connotations from ripened "wits" to accumulated knowledge, mature judgment, and inclusive understanding. Not that each man can evolve wisdom for himself. For most, a living tradition provides the essence of it. But the end of the cycle also evokes "ultimate concerns" for what chance man may have to transcend the limitations of his identity and his often tragic or bitterly tragicomic engagement in his one and only life cycle within the sequence of generations. Yet great philosophical and religious systems dealing with ultimate individuation seem to have remained responsibly related to the cultures and civilizations of their times. Seeking trans-cendence by renunciation, they yet remain ethically concerned with the "maintenance of the ¯ world." By the same token, a civilization can be measured by the meaning which it gives to the full cycle of life, for such meaning, or the lack of it, cannot fail to reach into the beginning of the next generation, and thus into the chances of others to meet ultimate questions with some clarity and strength. Erikson points out that this achievement of integrity implies that the person has the courage to retain his own individuality and life style even in the face of changing times: Forheknowsthat an individual life is the coincidence of but one life cycle with but one 330 Review for Religious, Volume 3 I, 1972/3 segment of history, and that for him all human integrity stands and fails with the one style of integrity of which he partakes (p. 140). He also points out that when old age is not used positively, it will end negatively in disgust and despair: Such a despair, is often hidden behind a show of disgust, a misanthropy, or chronic contemptuous displeasure with particular institutions and particular people - a disgust and a displeasure which, where not allied with the vision of a superior life, only signify the individual's contempt of himself (ibid.) From a Christian point of view, therefore, the period of vigil for the Lord's Coming is a precious gift. It is not merely for the aged, but is a feature of every Christian life. All of us, young and old, must have some vigil in our life, some time of reflection, purification, integration. It should begin early, so that old age will only be its culmination and intensification. It is not something separated from active life but is rather a harvest time in which the fruit of experience ~is reaped, assimilated, and made part of our total personality. The Paschal mystery means for us that although this world and its life must pass, yet nothing experienced here in faith will ever be lost, no genuine tie in love will ever be severed. In Christ our life will be summed up, "recapitulated," and transformed in the eternal life of the Trinity. Death is not a closing in of the horizon, but an opening on an ever wider vista - a narrow door that opens on an expanding landscape. The end of the film 2001: A Space Odyssey is one way of saying it. Therefore, the vigil time of life is not just "waiting to die," but is a process of integration in which we "get it all together," discovering in all that we have done and suffered an inner core of meaning. Moreover, we have the obligation of letting others who are in the midst or the beginning of life know there is meaning to what seems to them a mad scramble, a rat-race. The generation gap can never be closed in time, because the wisdom of experience cannot be expressed in the language of inexperience. Yet something can be communicated and must be communicated to the young, and that is hope. Only those seniors who have achieved peace, and who prove it by letting the young live their own lives, are able to give a truly credible sign of hope. The Apostolate of Vigil In view of this psychological and theological meaning of vigil and of later life as a time of vigil, it seems to me that we can frame a better practical understanding of the so-called "retirement problem." (1) In order to obliterate the "retirement" idea, I think we should institute both in name and fact a new apostolate in our communities, the Apostolate of Vigil. It is a genuine apostolate in the wider sense in which traditionally the contemplative life was considered the supreme apostolate, because contemplatives perform a special service of intercessary prayer, reparation, and witness to the transcendent, eschato-logical goals of the Christian life. Lately, active communities are recognizing this need by establishing "houses of prayer." It seems to me that the notion of "vigil" adds to the concept of "prayer" that "thrust into the future" which is so necessary to our time that suffers from "future shock" and "existential despair:" The work of this apostolate consists in several related elements: (a) Reflection. Erikson's emphasis on old age as a time of integration indicates that those in the apostolate of vigil must give themselves seriously to reflection. In a recent movie Kotch, Walter Matthau brilliantly portrays a retired business man who annoys everyone by his constant, apparently disconnected garrulity. Yet as we Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 331 listen to him, we see that he is still a mentally very active man, more alert ~han his rather stupid son and daughter-in-law. He is reflecting over his reading, his life, his successes and failures, and is distilling real wisdom from them. He looks at life with a tolerant yet discerning eye. He contemplates its beauty with delight and tries to express it in language that has its real poetry. But no one listens. On tlie other hand, another movie, 1 Never Sang for My Father, shows the tragedy of another elderly "successful" business man who cannot find the clue to the real meaning of his life, but endlessly moves in the circle o~ the old, bitter thoughts of his rejected youth. Some of our attempts at community dialogue have left the old silent, because we are always talking about the future. Perhaps we should try to have some times of discussion devoted to the needs of the senior members to talk about their past. (b) Prayer. This should not only be intercessory and reparative, as I have already indicated, but also a prayer of praise and thanksgiving. If we need time to "make a thanksgiving" after Holy Communion, don't we also need time to give thanks for the banquet of life? Undoubtedly older religious will want to continue the forms of prayer which have formed the basis of their lives, and, as Erikson says in the quotation above, this is a part of their personal integrity. At the same time, they may welcome the opportunity to deepen these accustomed forms of prayer if they are given opportunities for better theological.and liturgical instruction on the values which they contain. A prayer group made up of older priests, with which I am acquainted, is finding the new "Liturgy of the Hours" a delight. It retains the basic elements of the older "Divine Office" but in a form which makes recitation more meditative and leisurely. (c) Counsel. This is a difficult point which requires a good deal of study and experimentation. In traditional societies the elders were the counselors, yet today it is argued by Margaret Mead and others that the young really have more experience than their seniors. Furthermore, it is said that elderly counselors incline to an authoritarian moralism that is contrary to the non-directive methods of modern counseling. On the other hand it is certainly true that some older people have real assets as counselors. They have time to listen, a broad sympathy based on their own self-knowledge and the experience of human struggle, and a calm, hopeful attitude, sceptical of facile solutions, yet free of pani~ about the crises of life. There is no reason that such persons cannot still learn to improve their technique as.counselors if given some additional training and supervision, Their tendency to moralize or over-direct is more a result of their desire to help, than an incapacity to learn a more psychological approach. I suggest that while not all older people will make good counse.lors, many will if.given some additional training. (d) Suffering. The physical and mental decline of later life tends to become the focus of many wasted days and years, unless this suffering is understood as an element of Christian experience not merely to be endured but to be used creatively. The Cross is a means of integration and fulfillment, as it was for Jesus who said: "It is completed" (Jn 19:.30). To make this suffering a spiritual resource, however, requires spiritual guidance and support. In Gethsemane Jesus was strengthened by an angel (Lk 22:43). The flagging energies of the sick and aged make it difficult for them to exert themselves to prayer. They can relapse into a routine of gradual decline and apathy. Consequently, it is important to help them use the energies they have to grow personally. (e) Small Services. Today religious orders rightly seek to free themselves from wasting their energies on "trivialities." Nevertheless, we need to realize that nothing 332 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 humanizes our lives so much as the small personal services that make us feel loved and that free us from details for more creative work. In any religious community its life and its apostolate can be immensely aided by persons who have the time, the tact, the humility to render some of these small services either within the community circle or as a feature of particular external apostolates. For example, how much a really good receptionist contributes to the work of any organization! Jesus spoke of the "cup of cold water only" given in His name (Mt 10:42) and of the "widow'smite"(Mk 12:41-4) to indicate the dignity and beauty of such small services given in love. They exemplify the first beatitude of poverty of spirit. (f) Hope. The culminating task of the Apostolate of Vigil is the witness of genuine hope, free of "future shock," of gloom, of cynicism, or panic. We need only to think of the example given the Church and the world by the aged John XXlII to realize what a rainbow sign (Gen 9:11-7) this witness of hope can be, giving life and renewal to the whole community. (2) A second step we need to take is to make clear that this Apostolate of Vigil is not exclusively for the old, but an option for all religious at any age, as a permanent or temporary apostolate. There are young and middle-aged religious who will find that their charism is more contemplative than active, or that at least for certain periods of their life they need to '~be" rather than to "do or make." We should ¯ make clear also that age does not automatically qualify a person for this apostolate, or make it his or her single choice. Some senior religious will still find themselves more inclined to a "second career" or to "semi-activity" and should be given this option if it is at all a realistic choice. Finally, we should avoid identifying this apostolate with the problem of residence. It is true that the "villa" may be one center of such an apostolate, but some religious will prefer to carry it on in houses of prayer or active communities. (3) Since this apostolate requires special qualifications other than mere age, it also requires proper training, facilities, and evaluation, exactly as any other apostolate. When a religious is considering choosing it, he or she should discuss the matter with a qualified counselor. The community itself should have definite plans for developing, evaluating~ and revising this apostolate in the formation of which theological, liturgical, psychological, and medical expertise should be used. (4) Finally, proper recognition should be given to those who sincerely engage in this apostolate, so that they know and feel that they truly contribute to the community's life and work. One form of recognition is, of course, a clear financial arrangement by which it is apparent to all that persons in this apostolate are not a "burden" to the community but an asset. This is no mere legal fiction because: (a) This apostolate is a fundamental service to the Church and the world which every religious community has the obligation to provide in some form or other. (b) In actual fact a great part of the free gifts made to any religious community come because the laity look to the assistance of that community's prayer and penance. (c) Religious by their contributed services in their years of "active apostolate" have certainly invested enough in the community to deserve in justice the opportunity to engage in the Apostolate of Vigil if they choose. Some communities solve this problem by paying each local community of which the religious is a member a regular monthly salary as her contribution to its financial upkeep. An Obvious Objection An honest doubt about the idea I have outlined naturally arises. How can we speak of an apostolate for a really senile person who has lost memory, emotional Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 333 control, clarity of mind and purpose? What of those who really are "just waiting to die," living only on a vegetative, custodial level? I can only suggest two points for reflection: (1) Today certain psychologists and some young thinkers of the counter culture are raising sharp questions about the way our work ethic culture tends to define "mental incapacity" or "mental illness." They point out that in many cultures persons we label as "crazy" or "mentally defective" are considered "wise," "prophetic," or "sacred." Jesus spoke of the wisdom of the child, and St. Paul of the wisdom of those whom the world calls fools. St. Luke pictures those two ancient prophets, Simeon and Anna, who alone recognized the Messiah. I certainly would not subscribe to overromantic ideas about the wisdom of the senile, but I do not think that we should identify the value of human personality with the well-being of the brain. The senile person can still be capable of faith, hope, and charity. The process of spiritual purgation and integration which goes on in later life no doubt can reach its completion even when life has reached its ebb tide. (2) In any case our real problem is not the extremely senile patient for whom nothing remains but custodial care. We will give that care gladly and it raises no great puzzles. The real geriatric problems are the much larger number of religious who are still very much alive, perhaps with many years ahead of them. We must help them live these years as a vigil of hope, of effective prayer for the Lord's Coming and for the establishment of His kingdom on our earth. DAVID A. FLEMING, S.M. Formation and the Discovery of Identity [David A. Fleming, S.M., is a faculty member of Marianist Seholastieate; 2700 Cincinnati Avenue; San Antonio, Texas 78284.1 People in formation today tend to feel uncomfortably like bridges. At one end they cling to the solid but sometimes arid rock of a tradition, while at the other they try to find some footing in the shifting sands of new styles of life and experience. Meanwhile they often feel that people are walking all over them from both directions and fighting their battles on top of them, while they themselves look down at the gaping abyss beneath. Luckily, though, many of us like being bridges, despite the discomforts involved, and we feel that the attempt to reach across the gap is more than worth the effort. Our problem, our sense of battles and abysses, is, 1 think, related to a major cultural shift in the understanding and expression of religious values. This shift became an experiential reality for me not too long ago one evening when I attended two parties in religious communities, one - frequented by older members - celebrating the jubilee 9f a much respected member of my province, and the other a community party in a house of formation celebrating the end of a semester. It struck me very forcibly that what I was doing was observing the ways in which two distinct cultures celebrate. To attempt to summarize cultural differences is a risky undertaking. No one is ever satisfied by someone from the outside attempting to sum up basic commit-ments and ways of seeing. And, of course, none of us is ever or should ever be completely "outside"; our summaries are inevitably colored by our own commit-ments and viewpoints. But if we are to talk meaningfully of the situation in which the person involved in formation finds himself today, it is necessary at least to draw up a schematized and admittedly unnuanced outline of the very real contrasts that govern our situation. By culture I mean simply the sum-total of the social values, ways of thinking, means of expressing human relationships, and habits of life shared by a whole group of people (whether tribes in Africa, villages in France, or social groupings in America). At the two parties I recognized two contrasting ways of celebrating, two approaches to festivity. The older party was characterized by a happy convention-ality. People told the old jokes and sang the old songs, reminisced about the way things used to be, shared common memories about the persons and mores of a true but somewhat idealized past. The younger one was colored by creative expression (new skits, new games and ideas) and fantasy (making up new stories and new songs). At both parties, there was much sharing of laughter at things normally taken very seriously. The cultural differences are not restricted, of course, to behavior at parties. The two groups' means of expressing values are notably different. Both are preoccupied with fidelity, but the older group stresses fidelity to an established role, believing Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 335 that a man's true fulfillment and the greatest service he can give lie in being as faithfully and totally and interiorly as possible what he is called to be by the work assigned to him: a good teacher, pastor, cook, or whatever. For the younger group fidelity means, above all, a continuous search to discover and live out what is one's own unique contribution. True fulfillment for this younger group means the discovery of self, which will then lead to a service to society which may or may not correspond to any pre-established role. The older group stresses perseverance in holding to the role that is given, while the younger group stresses honesty with oneself, even though that honesty may not lead very quickly to stability. The older group sees forgetfulness of self and modesty as prime virtues for relating with others, while the younger group stresses openness, the willingness to let oneself be influenced by the thought and action of the other. The older group stresses the necessity for each individual to stick to what he thinks is right, no matter what social pressures he may be subjected to. The younger one feels that communion with the group is a prime value; although he too knows how to withstand social pressures, they prompt him more quickly to re-examine his position, rather than stiffen his resistance to corruption. The older group speaks much about preserving and enriching a tradition that comes out of the past, while the younger one is more oriented towards building a future that may or may not spring very obviously from the past. The experienced seek a carefully limited, realistic, but wholehearted commitment to the goals they have accepted. This approach seems narrow to the young; fascinated by a multiplicity of goods, they tend rather to become overcommitted to too many things, while at the same time being only partially committed to any one of them. The patterns of thought of the two groups are also quite diverse. For the older, truth is to be achieved above all by method, by a disciplined and patterned application of long-tested paradigms; for the young it is to be sought in dialectic, in conversation and interchange, more by group experience than by individual reflection. The older person wants someone to give him answers to his questions; the younger one simply looks for a person to share the process of discovery. The older man has been educated more in a rhetorical tradition that takes a position asa given and then finds all the supporting reasons and arguments; the younger man's education has increasingly stressed a heuristics that is concerned above all with the search for the position that is (existentially) true. For the older man, knowledge tends more to be a possession (the kind of knowledge denoted by the French verb (savoir), something that is dominated, assimilated, and put to profitable use. For the younger man it tends to be a mode of being-related (conna~tre), a personal or quasi-personal communion. The older man looks in his thinking for stability and attempts to stick to the essence of things; the younger man is taken up with the process and is unimpressed by thinking that relies on stable effsences. Discursive thinking and logic tend to be the natural realm of'the older man; symbol thinking, poetry, and art, that of the younger. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, the ways of relating to people and forming friendships differ between the two groups. The way to an older man's heart is to work together with him at a common project perceived as meaningful. The way to a younger man's heart is to listen to him creatively, to share one's own experiences - a process of much dialogue and many hours of deep conversation. Obviously this outline of the two approaches is quite schematized, and most of us - old or young - are somewhere in-between. The purpose of this rather cavalier summary and contrast has been to point up that the two approaches exist (although 336 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 hardly ever in a "pure" state), that they are, in fact, very different - a difference such as has not often been experienced between any two successive generations in human history - and to intimate, by expressing the values of each in a positive way, that both approaches are very open to living the message of the gospel. It is evident that we have two contrasting ways of being faithful, and we who work in the formation of young religious find ourselves very much in a mediatorial, reconciliational role between them. Our role in this cultural situation is, I believe, best conceptualized today as being of service to individuals and communities in the discovery of an identity. Our most obvious task is to aid the indivMual in developing a social identity with the concrete group which he or she is in the process of joining. Because of the cultural crossroads where we find ourselves at this point in history, however, it is unrealistic to reduce the whole of our role to "socialization" within a given congregation. Neither the individual nor the life of the group can remain static, and a true commitment to the group can happen only as the individual finds within the group a true aid to releasing his own creative potential and an increasingly rich field for expressing that potential. A person can develop an identity with a group only on the basis of a strong personal identity, and. strong personal identity can be developed, paradoxic-ally, only in an interplay with a social group. The person working in formation must therefore deal with both poles of identity - the group and the personal. Hence a second, by no means subordinate, part of our role is to be of service to the young person who comes to us in the absorbing work of his own personal search for identity. Formation people, though they tend. to be "generalists" rather than specialists, should, if anything, be specialists in "human development." Although we should only begin working with young people who have already developed a fairly advanced degree of security, self-identity, and clear-headedness, their entry into religious life, at whatever age, is always part of a search for personal identity and identity within society, and we must be prepared to be of service in that extremely personal search. Given the state of constant evolution in which we more and more consciously find ourselves, the first aspect mentioned above, that of identification with or true membership in the order or congregation can no longer be conceived at any level as identification with a status quo. Commitment to religious life today means rather a commitment to God working in a concrete group of people who are pledged to grow and evolve together, to share the consequences of their lives and decisions. Membership means the willingness to keep growing together, to keep sharing consequences, and to let others within the group continue to influence our lives. Joining religious life is less a flight into a specific desert (for deserts can become rather comfortable, as full of fleshpots as any Egyptian oasis) than a going on pilgrimage together, a common movement toward the God who speaks in our lives and calls us forward through history. Religious life, if it is to give its most telling witness to mankind today, must become (as Schillebeeckx has put it) a '~sacrament of dialogue," a living sign, open and visible to men, of the fact that people can live together and share the search for God's concrete will for them in the present, and that this common search can become a fascinating, absorbing, and fulfilling life project. If we view religious life in this dynamic, search-centered way, it becomes increasingly evident that formation must involve a great deal of contact between the candidates and the experienced members. A decision to throw in one's lot with a given order or congregation can be made only on the basis of knowing and Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 337 experiencing the sacrament of dialogue as it really is. Isolated formation houses no longer fill the need, at least not for the totality of the period of basic formation. They were viable in a day when the problem of formation was simply that of taking on an accepted and rather standardized culture. They are good at providing the deeply spiritual motivation that is alone adequate to sustain a person in the challenges which the communal search for God demands. But they do not give an experience of the communal search to which the community as a whole is pledging itself. They rather give another experience - that of a group of peers struggling with commitment together - an experience which will happen anyway, with or without an isolated house of formation, and one that can too easily create a kind of sub-culture, spiritually and emotionally alienated from the group as a whole. They accentuate cultural differences, rather than helping all - young and old -go beyond them to a deeper unity. Identification with the group is complicated today by the problem that many of us are in fact probably better at being of service to personal growth than at helping develop social roles. We tend to have some competence in psychology, none at all in sociology. Yet as each individual grows personally, he becomes more conscious of his unique contributions and personal richness, and he usually discovers the fact that there are no ready-made social roles into which he can easily fit. Because of the rapid change in our society, many of the traditional service roles which religious have filled (teaching, nursing, pastoral work) are themselves in search of an identity, and many religious want to alter these service roles in significant ways. In this crucial area of both personal and community growth, it is above all important that as much of the whole community as possible be involved in developing and living with social roles. Our own personal identity, that of our younger members, and that of the order or congregation as a whole are inextricably entangled. They can either enrich or discourage one another. Rather than a pledge to adopt unquestioningly a given service'role, a commitment today means a pledge to share in mutual growth as we reexamine our traditional service roles. In turning to the question of our service in the area of each one's personal quest for identity, we will find it helpful first to consider the psychological characteristics of the typical young person with whom we have to deal today, his problems and prospects. The most striking strength of the typical candidate we meet today is his sensitivity. Impressionable, responsive to friendship, and anxious to give a service that is personally perceived, he is capable of developing a pers6nality that will be richly responsive to people. The weakness of our candidate is the typical weakness of a sensitive person. He is quite unsure of himself, uncertain of the best way to respond to the heavy pressures of the experience in which he becomes so deeply involved. He does not take all kinds of values, ways of acting and thinking, for granted. He has grown up in a scattered, fragmented world, and he has not yet had the time and the experience to build up a very firm personal stance - a coherent and well-articulated system of values, beliefs, and ways of acting. Because of his own insecurity and his sensitivity to influences, he tends to waver from position to position with what (for us) seems like astonishing rapidity. Growing up in a period when informational input has been reaching and surpassing overload capacity, our candidate has become aware of far more than we knew at his age, but he has simply not had the stabilizing and strengthening influence that we now enjoy nor even the stabilizing influence that we had at the same stage of our own growth. Hence he is very cautious about taking stands. He wants to continue to be "open" to experience, and he does not want to close too many doors too fast. He has come to 338 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 religious life because he is struggling for an identity that is out of the normal; he will not be satisfied with the ready-made roles which society presents so per-suasively to him. Hence he is, in his own peculiar way, cautious about making commitments, and he wavers through many possibilities before finally determining upon one. Our candidate's experience of the past twenty years has taught him that institutions and ideologies fall with great regularity, and that those who build their lives upon them do not survive. What he can perhaps trust is people. He is person-oriented, deeply conscious of his need for friends. He may find trust difficult; but once he has achieved it, he easily becomes dependent, and he is unashamed of finding strength in the support of his friends. He .is less concerned with building an institution, or an ideology than a friendship. He frequently seems to us to have an "affective" problem. His needs are enormous (or so it seems for those of us who have not lived through his cultural experience) in the area of personal friendship and support. He tends to think that the satisfaction of these needs will solve all his problems in life. He can easily be moved, even manipulated (and here we must be careful to respect his person), by motives of personal friendship, less easily by other motivations. In helping our candidate in his search for identity, we are often tempted to solve his problem for him, to shower on him the rich fruits of our own experience and expect him to respond with profound gratitude. Actually though, the nature of his problems (perhaps the nature of all human problems) is such that only he can solve them. Only he can discover and create an identity for himself. Our genuine help can be in sharing the process of discovery with him; in asking sensitive, helpful, but challenging questions; in sharing, but in a non-coercive way, something of our own search and some of its outcomes. In her fascinating little book Culture and Commitment, Margaret Mead has pointed out that the days of the "postfigurative culture" (the one in which the adults are supposed to have answered all questions and to provide a reproducible pattern for the young to imitate with exactitude) are gone. She believes that we are in a "cofigurative culture," one in which everyone, both young and old, determine the solutions to their problems and the answers to their questions by learning from their peers, with the danger of never being able to open up to an experience that is foreign to them. Our future lies, she believes, in a "prefigurative culture," one in which different age-groups and people with quite different experience can work together in the process of discovering new answers. Youth can contribute the special wisdom of its sensitivity, lack of complacency, and pertinent questioning; experience can enrich the dialogue by sharing, in a genuine search, some of the answers and guideposts it has met on its pilgrimage. Even though many of us still like to think we are quite young, we are on the side of "experience" when it comes to formation. The best that we can do for our candidate is engage in an intelligent, open, ongoing dialogue with him. One of the major problem arias that this dialogue will have to confront is that of authority, freedom, and independence. Because of our typical candidate's lack of security and wavering personal identity, he can become very dependent. He can mistakenly think that he has solved his identity problem by patterning his life after a respected elder. Thus he may be, in the judgment of many, a "model religious" for a time, until he discovers that what he was trying to be was not really himself. When the dependence has been considerable, especially when it has begun at an early stage of maturity and resulted in a rather far-reaching superego acceptance of Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 339 norms that are not internalized (an inauthentic identity plastered on from the outside), the young person, if he is healthy, will sooner or later rebel against the artificiality. More or less intensely and for a longer or shorter time, he will rej6ct much of his past experience, what he might call the "system" of religious life, the structures which characterize it, and possibly even some of the people, especially those with whom he has most closely identified. This rejection will be all the stronger if it is the first significa.nt one, if it has not already taken place in regard to home and parents, for it seems to be an almost inevitable part of growing up in the tensions of present-day society. In this area we need, therefore, to be especially careful. Most of us tend, like the generality of human beings, to be over-protective. We enjoy having someone a bit dependent on us. It is, in fact, a beautiful experience of spiritual fatherhood or motherhood, but it is not something which we, as celibate persons, can cling to. At this point a caution against "overcounseling" deserves special attention. Even though the ongoing dialogue is, I am convinced, of the essence of our task, it is sometimes possible to use counseling as a means of manipulating the young person's emotions, of forcing a growth for which he is not yet ready, of protecting him from learning by experience, and of re-enforcing the tendency toward dependence rather than helping him achieve freedom and self-actualization. Recognizing and accepting the psychodynamics of rejection enables us to maintain enough distance to be helpful rather than compound the problem. But this recognition should not lead us to discount the criticisms of the young person. The period of rejection may be a very special occasion for surfacing some real and deep-going problems, and it may point out some genuine weaknesses of our structures, our demands, and our means of formation. Creative listening and discernment of spirits at this critical juncture may be painful, but it may also help us see the )/bung person far more clearly and truly than ever before, and it may in turn reveal to us some of the deepest-penetrating dynamics of our own interaction. In working through this critical state, many young people come to the conviction that religious life is not what they want, that it does not correspond to the authentic identity which they. finally see themselves developing. They may often seem wrong, and we may sometimes realize better than they that their decision is simply part of the rejection process. At best we can keep it from becoming a particularly bitter or scarring part. Nevertheless, some of the most painful decisions we have to face come at this critical period. It is the strains and stresses of this period that especially urge the wisdom of taking candidates at an older, more mature period, since the strength of the rejection is more or less directly in proportion to the levels of inauthenticity and false docility that have to be uncovered and the depth with which the false super-ego identity has penetrated the person. But° we must ask ourselves whether our tendency to defer entrance is in each case a matter of prudence or pusillanimity. The dynamics of identity growth happen in late adolescence in a never-to-be-repeated fashion. The period can be so painful precisely because it is a time of so much growth. Many can develop a true personal i~lentity as religious if we can work sympathetically and understandingly with them through this difficult period. Once the person has passed this crisis, he usually begins to experience the need for building again, for discovery of means to live his religious commitment that correspond to his new found, more authentic self. For example, he will often reject prayer structures at one point only to find himself later, but more genuinely, seeking again to find true means to express his prayerful attachment to God, in 340 Review fog Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 concert with the community. The end result can be very creative - but oniy, of course, if we know how to keep concerns and realities alive without stifling the individual's periods of docility, rejection, and new growth. Our best role, throughout the whole process, I am convinced, is to engage in an ongoing dialogue with the person, to serve as one who can sympathetically share the process, avoiding as much as possible the danger of becoming an object of too great dependence and thus the eventual target of rebellion. Our most useful help will be to aid the young person to handle his dependence, his rebellion, and his new, more authentic independence, to help him find his true place within life and especially within our congregation. We can facilitate the search; we cannot do the discovering for him. The lines between dependence, independence, helpful ques-tioning, and coercive probing are so delicate at this period and so different for each individual that we must face the fact that we will sometimes succeed and sometimes fail. That is part of the joy and suffering of our mission. Another major problem area that we must face in our ongoing dialogue with our candidates is that of psychosexual identity. Here I am of course thinking more than ever in a male context, and those who work with women must make whatever applications they find appropriate. The problem seems to be somewhat different for them. At any rate, our typical male candidate today is not very' sure of his masculinity or even of what masculinity means. Popular society gives him some images of the male hero which he is rather quick intellectually to reject, but which he cannot easily replace: the strong man, excelling in sports, never expressing powerful emotions, capable of handling his drink and his women. The young man today is caught between this image, which it is hard for him to avoid, and his value system, which calls into question most of this image and lays a heavy stress on the goodness of emotion and sensitivity, which makes him very conscious of his own needs and his own very active life in these areas. He is part of the so-called "generation without a father," for his relations with his father have probably been rather occasional and distant. He feels very much the lack of a strong masculine image, and he even doubts at times his own true virility. If this young man is to undertake a life project involving celibacy, he must be able to reassure himself that he can find friends to fill his affective needs. He is horrified by the prospect - one which he is quick to detect, accurately or not, about him - of the middle-aged religious who has no real friends. He can be willing to undertake celibacy only if he is able to experience it as a unique way of loving others. He feels that it is as great a sin to be celibate without love as it is to have sexual relations without love. Very conscious of the eros within himself, he has to grapple with ways of discovering, releasing, and expressing that eros that corres-pond to the identity which he is seeking as a religious. In simpler terms, he wants to learn how to love (as all young inert do), but if he i,s to be a religious, he must learn to love in such a way that his focus is sharing the Spirit - in such a way that the peace and joy and goodness of God is the focus of his interchange with people. He can be attracted by the ideal of a love that is selfless, but not by one that is isolated or theoretical; the selflessness he seeks, if he is capable of celibate love, is the self-emptying of moving together with other human beings beyond the self and towards the God who calls us on. Too often we older religious have biocked the unique experience of celibate love in our hearts. We may have been celibate, but we have perhaps not always been fully loving. Sometimes the experience of wanting to be possessive, protective, jealous, and competitive, to dominate another person instead of freeing him, may Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 341 be an almost inevitable part of learning to love and to find self in relation to God. The aim of the genuine celibate is to share the Spirit and not bind the persqn to ourselves. The usual challenge for the young person is learning to share the SPIRIT, rather than himself; the challenge for many of us is learning to SHARE that Spirit whom we find within ourselves but often tend to stifle. Only by finding his identity as a celibate person in the midst of genuine love and friendship can a young religious man today achieve a secure psychosexual identity. Much of our work consists of helping him through that painful process - not, again, by expecting him to repeat our own experience, but rather by sharing with him in as understanding a way as possible the progress of his search, Many other areas would have to be touched if our aim were to exhaust the questions that confront the young person in formation: discovery of a meaningful relationship with God in prayer and in service, growth in self-awareness and self-confidence, discovery of identity as a worker and a professional person, and so forth. But what has been said suffices to show how the person who works in formation today is in a very delicate situation, one that can be riddled with anxiety - the anxiety of not knowing exactly where we are going, having a sense of the fragility of human life and commitment, recognizing the precarious religious identity of many of our candidates and longing to protect it, but still having to deal creatively with each one's personal quest and realizing that only he, under the guidance of the Spirit, can fashion his own life. If I may conclude, in Pauline fashion, with a catalogue of the virtues to which we are called, I believe they include a buoyant, persevering zest for life; a willingness to live with some anxiety, to let things and people be as they are; and a creative acceptance that affirms all the good in each person and helps him but does not coerce him to channel it towards the growth of mature religious identity. Abov.e all we need to develop a capacity for creative listening - listening to people as they are, without passing judgment, yet giving them our honest insights and letting the call to growth in the kingdom sound through us. All of this demands what Paul characterizes again and again as "patience" and "magnanimity" - hypomone, the gift of persevering zest, of withstanding pr.essures with love and graciousness; and makrothymia, the "great big heart" that is able to let God and men touch it and fill it and call on it no matter what. There is probably no role in religious life today that calls more than ours for deeper prayer, more hope, and more faith in God's loving strength - for more "waiting on the Lord." Perhaps our motto should be taken from Isaiah: "Those who wait for the Lord renew their strength, run and do not grow weary, walk and never tire" (Is 40:30). THOMAS N. McCARTHY Entry Age for Church Vocations [Thomas N. McCarthy is Vice President for Student Affairs at La Salle College; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19141.] Optimum age for entry into Church vocations continues to be a controversial subject. During the 1960's many seminaries and religious institutes, yielding to both internal and external pressures, raised entrance age requirements from early to late adolescence, and during that decade many permitted the demise of high school juniorates. Pressures for further change persist. The thrust of the early 1970's appears to be toward a further delay of entry from ageseventeen or eighteen to twenty, twenty-one, or beyond and with this a growing trend to phase out college level minor seminaries and scholasticates. At the same time that delayed entry for younger candidates is being encouraged, the admission of older candidates, that is, those over thirty years of age, is being actively encouraged. The purpose of this paper is to provide some empirical information on the relationship of applicant age to entry/non-entry rates among those who present themselves as candidates to Church vocations during post high school years and to persistence/attrition rates among those who enter then. The figures reported here are taken from a larger study currently being completed in which 750 candidates to two institutes of teaching brothers, 360 candidates to an institute of religious priests, and 1100 candidates to four institutes of teaching sisters were followed up for periods ranging from three to thirteen years to find out who entered and who did not, who had persisted and who had withdrawn. The relationship of these outcomes to characteristics of the people at the time they became applicants was then analyzed. Some of the applicant characteristics studied were age, education', ability, personality, and interests. The results of this study provide some empirical grounds on which to base policies about when people should be admitted to Church vocations - information which is currently not available in the literature. There are, of course, many relevant factors, of which empirical evidence is one, in a policy decision of this sort. Some Influences on Postponing Entry Among reasons for the demise of early adolescent entry to Church vocations in the United States are support from Rome for the delay, changes in family life, psychological and sociological theory, evidence of very high drop-out rates among high school age entrants, and feelings of interpersonal deficiencies among the current generation of religious leaders. While Rome has declined to officially condemn early entry - indeed it continues to encourage 12-13-year-old entry in some countries - in 1969 the Sacred Congregation for Religious and for Secular Institutes issued a document,Instruction on the Renewal of Religious Formation, recommending the practice of postponing Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 343 entrance for a year or two after high school graduation. The document moved beyond the recommendation that seminaries and religious orders get out of high school age formation - the cause c61~bre of the sixties - to getting out of some college age formation work as well. The recommendation rests on the assumption that older entrants would be more mature and consequently better able to profit from spiritual training. It also rests on the related assumption that, being more mature, older entrants should be more stable vocationally. These assumptions have not been put to an empirical test for religious candidates. It is not known if being older would in fact be related to greater maturity nor is it known if being older would be associated with higher persistence. The purpose of this paper is to provide information for testing the latter assumption among post high school age candi-dates. On theoretical grounds "one would expect that post high school entry, that is, entering when about seventeen or eighteen years old, should be associated with more stable career choices than entering prior to that time. That expectation is based on changes in family life, typical career choice patterns in the United States, Erikson's theory of ego identity, and Super's career development theory. The question of achieving greater vocational stability by delaying entry to even later ages, however, remains an open one. The American family, often mother dominated during the thirties when fathers suffered crushing economic humiliation and during the first half of the forties when men were off to war, has come more under the influence of father in the past twenty-five years, Undoubtedly this is one of the reasons for the decline in vocations which began to occur in the mid to late sixties. There is ample evidence that mother is most frequently the primary inspiration and support of religious vocations. Fichter is quoted by Rooney (1970) as reporting evidence for the greater influence of priests than of mothers in priestly vocations. Later research, especially that of Potvin and Suziedelis (1969), however, clearly supports the primary role of mother. In all likelihood there is no essential disagreement between these findings. I suspect that maternal influence is probably the major predisposing factor in the development of priestly or religious interests and that the influence of a given priest or'religious is generally the precipitating factor associated with a specific choice of institute. Mothers generally are more religious in orientation than fathers are, and with declining maternal influence and a corresponding increase in paternal influence, I think it can be safely assumed that today's teenagers are not as subject to family p.ressures to enter church vocations as was formerly true. It can be assumed further that pressures of this sort are felt most greatly in early teen years, that is, before an independent sense of self is well developed, than in the late teen years when eg.o identity normally is firmer. Thus a strong maternal influence on Church vocation choices most likely would be associated with both early entry and high rates of entry, while waning maternal influence would be associated with later and declining entry rates. Furthermore, if the dynamics of husband-wife, parent-child relation-ships have indeed changed with father re-assuming greater ascendancy since the"mid " 1940's, one could also infer support for a psychoanalytical interpretation that children in their early teens today should feel less heavy maternal emotional demands than was true of youngsters in the past. Consequently today's youth should feel less need to escape the home and these demands. Also instrumental in supporting delay of entry until after high school is the general tendency in America today to put off professional career choices until 344 Review for Religious~ Volume 31, 1972/3 college. Typical career development patterns now c~ll for a tentative choice of broad field and entrance into training for it around age eighteen. This generally is foll6wed by a period of narrowing course and career selection from around age 20 which eventually culminates for those who successfully complete career training in actual job entry around age 22-25. The near universality of this pattern for professional careers appears to be having a persuasive influence on Church pers.onnel practices. Both advocates and adversaries of delayed entry accept the premise that there must be substantial differences between preparation for Church vocations and preparation for secular careers. Education for the Church requires both an academic and a personal formation side, whereas preparation for secular careers is almost always restricted to the former. Paradoxically, agreement about this has fed the controversy about optimum entry age, both sides using it to make their case. Advocates of early entry have argued that the seed of a vocation is typically implanted early, will not be properly cultivated and is unlikely to grow outside a religious house of formation, and that vocations will be reduced unless early admission is permitted. Adversaries have argued that a person in his early teens does not know his own mind and that he needs the broader experiences - especially heterosocial ones - of ordina~'y family and social life before he is mature enough to profit from the spiritual formation side of Church vocation preparation. The immense popularity of Erikson's theory of adolescent identity crisis has had a remarkable effect on the attitudes of Church authorities toward proper entry age. Erikson's views about the development of a sense of self-identity, more than the views of any other theoretician, have provided the rationalization for delaying entry until an individual has achieved sufficient psychological independence from the primary adults in his life to have an ego identity of his own. That independence is thought to occur generally around age eighteen rather than at the beginning of the teens when so many youngsters formerly were funneled into religious or clerical life. Two recent religious writers, Mitchell (1970) and Gerlach (1971), have argued the viewpoint that the nature of a Church vocation requires entrants to have resolved not only the teenage identity crisis but also to have achieved a successful resolution of the problem of how to be intimate with another, the next level in Erikson's developmental theory. This viewpoint is offered as a basis for a further delay of entry age to twenty or so. Other than the theory behind the position, I find little else to support it. To my knowledge there is no published empirical information comparing the eventual social adjustment and persistence of entrants at one age to entrants at another age. Nor am 1 aware of any evidence that learning how to be intimate outside of religious life generalizes to the special circumstances within the life. On the contrary, this strikes me like a girl telling an interested boy to go learn how to make love and then come back when he knows how. He'll probably go elsewhere and learn all right, but it is not likely that he'll return to her. Super's career development theory, thanks to the promulgation of it among Church leaders by people like Kinnane (1970), also has influenced the move toward post high school entry. Super has proposed that the specification of a career choice, that is, electing a given career and taking concrete steps to prepare for it, normally occurs between ages eighteen and twenty-one and follows a period of roughly four years (ages 14-18) during which a career preference is crystalized out of an individual's growing awareness of his own interests, values, abilities, and opportuni-ties. Following Super's reasoning, entering the preparatory stage of a career before Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 345 age eighteen would have, for most people, the effect of foreclosing other options before the individual knows himself and the world of careers well enough to make a sound choice. For Super the choice of career involves a way of implementing one's concept of oneself, and a person is not ready to do that until the self-concept is relatively clear. Drop-out rates have never been well publicized even in professional literature and as a result are hard to document, especially over long periods of time. An occasional master's dissertation (see Verstynen, 1948) and studies dealing with some other aspect of seminary life sometimes report this information. People involved in Church personnel administration also generate a reservoir of information, often more anecdotal than systematic, about attrition rates. By the middle 1960's these varied sources, admittedly not rigorously scientific, had provided some foundation for the belief that drop-out rates are inversely related to age at entry. Patterson (1942), for example, reported a drop-out rate of over 80% for those who entered one seminary after grade eight declining to just over 75% for those who entered after having had some high school. So far as I know, to date there has been no systematic attempt to establish relationships between age of candidature and entry/nonentry, persistence/attrition rates across different types of church voca-tions. Is age of candidacy related to entry/nonentry or persistence/attrition in the same way for brothers, priests, and sisters? Dissatisfaction with interpersonal aspects of their lives is evident among a large number of the current generation of priests and professed religious. This is one of the most common complaints to come out of several studies over the past five years (see Schneider and Hall, 1970; Louis, Bowles, and Grace, 1967). Many in Church vocations feel that interpersonal deficiencies could have been corrected had candidates been required to remain outside the walls for a longer period of time. While there is no direct evidence that this in fact would happen, the desire to have better interpersonal relationships has been strong enough to persuade many to this viewpoint. All of these factors appear to have contributed to the demise of entry before high school graduation and to support of the current trend to delay entry for another year or two after that. It is a curious comment on the times that during all the controversy over this matter of optimum age for entry very little research was carried out to assess the actual psychological impact of formation on individuals at different ages. Keefe's study (1965) is the only one I know of which compared individuals of the same age in seminary and non-seminary high schools to see if there was a differential effect on maturity associated with one type of school as opposed to the other. He concluded that neither group was more mature than the other. Other doctoral dissertations done at Fordham (Mastej, Sandra, Vaughan) have shown increasing signs of maladjustment during college years of formation, but the cross-section methodology used in those studies leaves open the question of whether the subjects themselves actually changed or whether the group average changed as a result of better adjusted people having dropped out. 1 think the weight of the evidence on theoretical grounds, social changes, and on what empirical information exists clearly justifies delay of entry until the comple-tion of high school. As to justifying delay beyond this, it seems to me that empirical evidence is currently lacking and that the implications of theoretical positions such as Erikson's developmental views are open to conjecture. At the same time, however, there does appear to be a growing trend among college 346 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 students to put off career decisions longer than was true in the recent past. Some Empirical Evidence In 1970 I did a follow-up study of approximately 2200 candidates I had examined for seven Church institutes during the years 1957-1967. Information about age at the time they applied for entry was available for 742 candidates to two provinces of the same institute of teaching brothers, 354 candidates to an order of religious priests, and 1089 candidates to four institutes of teaching sisters. Their age when they were examined for admission was then studied in relationship to their having entered or not and to their having persisted or not for those who entered. The examinations were conducted on the average 3-9 months before actual entry. On the average when they sought entry the candidates to the brothers were 17 years, 11 months, to the priesthood 19 years, 2 months, and to the sisters 18 years, 5 months (see Table 1). The half-year difference between candidates to the brothers and sisters, the eight month difference between candidates to the sisters and the priesthood, and the fourteen month difference between candidates to the brothers and priesthood were all statistically significant and could not be accounted for by chance. Thus each type of institute attracted candidates of somewhat different ages. Table 1. Mean ages in months of candidates, nonentrants, entrants, persisters, and withdrawers for seven institutes of brothers, priests, and sisters.* Brothers Standard (2 Provinces) N Mean Deviation t p Candidates 742 215.3 19.7 Non-Entrants 389 216.8 24.9 Entrants 353 212.9 15.9 2.56 .05 Persisters 151 214.0 18.1 With'drawers 202 212.2 14.0 1.01 ns. Priests Standard (1 Institute) N Mean Deviation t p Candidates 354 229.6 34.4 Non-Entrants 60 239.8 45.2 Entrants 294 227.5 31.3 2.00 .05 Persisters 98 227.8 29.1 Withdrawers 196 227.3 32.3 ,13 ns. Sisters Standard (4 Institutes) N Mean Deviation t p Candidates " 1089 221.2 24.4 Non-Entrants 222 228.8 32.5 Entrants 867 220.5 21.5 3.60 .01 Persisters 469 219.7 18.2 Withdrawers 398 221.4 24.8 1.13 ns. *Age refers to how old the person was when he was examined as a part of the application process. Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 347 Older candidates to all three types of institutes were less likely to enter than were younger candidates. As shown in Table 1 the differences between the average ages of entrants and nonentrants were statistically significant beyond chance expectancy in all three cases. For the brothers nonentrants were on the average four months older than entrants, for the seminary a full year older, and for the sisters eight months older. Clearly promise, at least from the viewpoint of entrance, was not associated with being older for these seven institutes during the eleven years from 1957 through 1967. It would not be correct to conclude from this that superiors had a tendency to deny admission to older candidates on the basis of age alone. The more usual situation was that being older tended to be associated with some other factors considered signs of poor promise: indecisiveness, family problems, psycho-sexual problems, and questionable motivation being common. Only eleven of the 2185 candidates were over thirty years old. The brothers had two such candidates and neither entered; the priests had five, of whom three entered; the sisters had four, of whom two entered. All of the other candidates were in their late teens or twenties. At the lower end of the continuum 78 of the brothers' candidates were sixteen in comparison to 6 seminary candidates and 27 candidates to the convents in that age group. The brothers had 2 candidates who were fifteen and the seminary 1. The sisters had none that young. All of these younger candidates have been lumped in the 17 and under category in Table 2. Table 2. Proportions of entrants, non-entrants, persisters, and withdrawers by age of candidates to seven institutes of brothers, priests, and sisters. Total Candi- Non- Institute Age dates Entrants Entrants Persisters Withdtawers N N % N % N %* %** N %* P 5 2 40 3 60 1 33 20 2 67 40 S Base Ratet (17%) (83%) (34%) (28%) (66%) (54%) S 4 R S Base Rater * Proportion of entrants (All figures ~e for age at 115 19 506 81 274 54 44 232 46 37 60 19 256 81 142 55 44 114 45 36 37 28 93 72 49 53 37 44 47 33 8 44 10 56 4 40 22 6 60 33 2 50 2 50 0 0 0 2 100 50 (20%) (80%) (54%) (43%). (46%) (36%) ** Proportion of candidates ~- Proportions without regard to age time the person was examined during the application process). B 2 2 100 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 E R Base Rate~ (52%) (48%) (42%) (20%) (58%) (27%) S 348 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 The largest single age group applying to all three types of institutes were seventeen years old: 94% of the brother candidates, 46% of the seminary candidates, and 55% of the sister candidates. This was followed by those in the eighteen and nineteen-year-old bracket who comprised 19%, 30%, and 29% of the candidates to the brothers, seminary, and sisters respectively. Five percent of the candidates to the brothers were between twenty and twenty-four, 19% of those applying to the seminary, and 12% to the convents. Very few candidates to any of the institutes were between twenty-five and twenty-nine (see Table 2 for all of these figures). The base rate figures in Table 2 indicate the overall proportions of nonentrants, entrants, persisters, and withdrawers without regard to age. If being a given age was a "good sign" for entry, the proportion of those entering from that age group should be above that of the base rate. For the brothers and priests the 17-year-olds had the best entry rates and for the sisters those in the 17-19 age brackets had the best entry rates. For the brothers all ages over 17 had entry rates lower than the base rate; for the priests those in the 20-24 and over 30 age groups had lower entry o rates; and for the sisters all those 20 and over had lower entry rates. Do these same patterns hold with regard to persistence and attrition for the seven institutes? The data are not nearly so clear on this point. The figures in Table 1 show no appreciable age differences between those remaining in and those who left. It is important to bear in mind that all figures are for the ages of persisters and withdrawers at the time they applied for entry, not at the time of the follow-up. Two base rate figures are given for persisters and withdrawers in Table 2. The first refers to the proportion of those who entered who eventually remained or left; the second refers to the proportion of total candidates wt~o remained or left. Brothers For the brothers 42% of the 353 entrants were still in when the follow-up was done. The best persistence record was for those few entrants (1 I) who were between 20-24 when they applied for entry. On the other hand, the best persistence record for all candidates was for those who were either 17 years old or between 25-29 when they sought entry. Only two persisters were in the latter age group, however, versus 122 in the l~-year-old group. Clearly, delaying entry for candidates to these institutes w~uld have resulted in a very heavy loss of people who are still persisting. This, of course, assumes that the interest of the 17-year-olds would not have been sustained while waiting for a later entry - an outcome which I think is highly likely, though not amenable to proof from these data, even with lots of tender loving care in extramural aspirancies. The normal training period for these brothers extends for six years. In general, though this was not true for everyone at the time of the follow-up in 1970, it can be assumed that those still persisting from among candidates who had applied during the years from 1957 through 1962 were finally professed. These men would have been in their respective institutes anywhere from eight to thirteen years. In absolute numbers far and away the greatest number of final professed came from among candidates who had applied at age 17. There were 63 professed from that age bracket versus 5 from those who had applied at age 16, 13 from the 18-19- year-old applicants, and 3 from the 20-24-year-olds. On the basis of the proportions of candidates within each age group who remained to be finally professed, again the highest proportion was found among the 17-year-olds, though the differences from one age group to another were Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 349 relatively small: 17% of the 16-yea.r-old candidates eventually were finally pro-fessed, 23% of the 17-year-olds, 15% of the 18-19-year-olds, and 20%of the 20-24- year-olds. The entrants in each age group who had taken final vows were distributed as follows: 45% of the 16-year-olds, 48% of the 17-year-olds, 37% of the 18-19-year-olds, and 60% of the 20-24-year-olds. With only 3 people in the latter category, one could hardly justify delaying entrance to that age unless one could also demonstrate their superiority over the 81 professed who had entered at the younger age. The differences between the persistence rates of candidates and the persistence rates of entrants suggest that pre-ad.mission screening improves persistence rates rather substantially at every age. Priests In the case of the priests the overall persistence rate for the 294 entrants was 34% in comparison to 28% for the 354 candidates. The best persistence record for entrants was achieved by those who had applied when they were between 20-24 followed by the 17-year-old applicants. The best persistence record for candidates was achieved by 17-year-olds followed by those 20-24. There were fairly sizeable numbers of persisters in all the age brackets from 17 through 24 but substantially greater numbers who withdrew. Thus it would be very difficult to generalize about an optimum age for entering this seminary aside from being under age 25. At the time of the follow-up 19 of 118 candidates who had applied during the years 1961 and 1962 had been in the seminary eight or nine years. On the average they had been 19 years, 9 months when they sought entry. Of the 19 a total of 10 were ordained. The youngest candidate among the ordained had been 18 when he applied. The majority (6 of the 10) had been between 20-24; 1 was 27; 2 were 19. There is a strong suggestion from these few figures that for this seminary being in one's early twenties was a better sign of promise for eventual ordination than being younger. It needs to be pointed out, however, that older candidates had less education to complete when they entered and were thus more likely to have been ordained within the eight-to nine-year span covered by this study than were younger entrants. When the follow-up was done 9 non-ordained of the 19 persisters over this time span had been 18 or younger on becoming candidates: 1 was 16; 5 were 17; and 3 were 18. Accordingly, one might still be reluctant to deny admission to 17-year-olds. Looked at another way and assuming the 6 remaining 16 and 17-year-old persisters all accept ordination, that would result in an expected ordination rate of 13% for the 46 candidates in that age bracket during the years 1961-62 versus an actual ordination rate of 26% for the 23 candidates who were between 20-24. The comparable ordination rates for entrants in these age brackets would be 15% versus 37%, respectively. For candidates 18-19 years old, 3 already were ordained and assuming ordination of the remaining 3, their ordination rate against the total candidates in that age bracket would be. 14% versus 18% for entrants in that age group. Though the numbers involved are very small to draw firm generalizations, the ordination rates, both actual and assumed, give rather clear support to the view that candidates in their early twenties show greater promise than do those in their late teens. Sisters Fifty-four percent of the 867 who entered the four convents were still in as of 1970 in comparison to 43% of the total 1089 candidates. The persistence rates of 350 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 all entrants under 25 years old differed very little from one another: 54% of the 17-year-old entrants were still in, 55%of the 18-19-year-olds, and 53%of the 20~24- year-olds. Entrants over age 25, a very small number (10), were less likely to persist (40%) than the others. Using the total pool of candidates as a reference point the best persistence risks came from those who were between 17 and 19 (44%) when they applied. The poorest risks were those over 30 (0%), followed by those between 25 and 29 (22%), and 20-24 (37%). A separate analysis was done of the 209 candidates who had applied to three of the convents sometime between 1958 and 1962 and who were still in as of 1970. The fourth convent did not begin psychological evaluations until 1963 and was excluded for that reason. Thus for the other three institutes those persisting had been in their respective convent for eight to twelve years and normally would have been finally professed by that time. For these people essentially the same persistence rates were found for all ages between 17 and 24. Of the 17-year-old entrants 53% were professed compared to 54% of the 18-19-year-olds, and 56% of the 20-24-year-olds. Using candidates as the base for comparisons, 47% of the 17-year-olds were professed, 47% of the 18-19-year-olds, and 42% of the 20-24-year olds. In absolute numbers far and away the greatest number of professed (I 13) applied when they were 17 followed by 67 18-19-year-olds, 23 20-24-year~olds, 3 25-29-year-olds, and 3 16-year-olds. No candidate over thirty remained in.Sixteen-year- old candidates were a rarity. There were only four and all applied to one convent. Three of the four were eventually professed. What can one make of the figures for the convents? With about one-half of the 17- year-old candidates having remained in the convent at least eight to twelve years, it would be hard to support the contentii3n that they are a less stable group than older candidates and thus should be delayed from entering for another year, two years, or more. Profession rates for 18-19-year-old entrants are no better than theirs and after that age the persistence rates drop off. Unless one could assume holding the interest of 17-19-year-olds during a period of delay, a large drop in absolute numbers of those who eventually take final vows can be predicted and probably without much change in overall persistence rates given the same amount of screening done in the past. Summary Observations An increase in the number of nonentrants among candidates to Church vocations is one likely consequence of postponing entry beyond high school graduation. Age in itself would not be the reason for this increase. However, age-related factors such as career indecisiveness, social and sexual adjustment, and similar factors probably would be. A second consequence very likely would be a sharp decline in the number of candidates making application. This already is evident for institutes which have adopted a policy of postponed entrance for a year or more after high school graduation. The brothers, in particular, would be affected by this. The two brothers institutes in this study do not conduct colleges whereas the institute of priests and the four institutes of sisters each conduct at least one college and in some cases :two or more. 1 do not know if this was a contributing factor to brothers attracting the youngest candidates of all three types of institutes and having had relatively small numbers of candidates in their early twenties, but 1 suspect that was the case. In addition, for the brothers almost three times the proportion of candidates in their early twenties failed to enter than was true for the seminary and convents. I take Review for Refigious, Volume 31, 1972/3 351 this to mean that applicant proximity to the age group with which the Church institute works may be a significant factor both in becoming a candidate and in entering. Persistence was related to ag~ differently for the three types of institutes. Considering only those who had remained in for periods ranging from eight to thirteen years, for the brothers 17-year-old entrants had the best persistence records and in absolute numbers constituted by far the largest group of persisters compared to other ages; for entrants to the priesthood being in the early twenties was associated with a persistence rate twice that for 17-year-olds and approximately twice that for 18-19-year-olds as well; for the sisters essentially the same persistence rates were found for all ages between 17 and 24. The absolute number of persisters was much higher for 17-year-olds, however, than for any other age group. These figures indicate that it is unwise to generalize about optimum' age for entry without taking into consideration the type of institute. Given the same set of circumstances for the future that prevailed in these institutes through 1970 - an admittedly questionable assumption - one would have to predict that postponing entry to age 20 for the brothers could shortly put those institutes out of business. For the seminary reported on here to do that could result in a reduction of up to 50% of those who remain in to be eventually ordained, though I would estimate~ the more likely reduction would be on the order of 20-25%. For the convents to postpone entry to age 20 one would predict a very sharp drop in total number of entrants but without appreciably improving persistence rates of those eventually admitted. The net effect would be a substantial drop in new professed. All of this obviously assumes a simpler relationship between age and persistence than fits the facts, but the estimates have some empirical foundation. I think the more important question than simple persistence is whether one can identify among post high school candidates those who are mature enough to hold promise for an effective ministry. On the side of negative characteristics, there is firm evidence that candidates with poor motivation and poor prognosis due to family problems can be identified with a high degree of success (Weisgerber, 1969). The very sharp differences for the brothers in persistence rates for entrants from the different age groups in comparison to candidates from the different age groups probably reflects the results of effective screening. The brothers admitted only about 50% of their candidates. Similar differences in persistence rates were not found between entrants and candidates to the seminary which had not screened nearly so rigorously. Some institutes prefer to admit candidates without putting strong emphasis on the psychological evaluation. This typically results in higher entry rates and lower persistence rates, an outcome which indirectly suggests that signs of promise among candidates can be identified with some accuracy by pre-admission evaluation. So, too, does the much higher long-term persistence rate for the brothers than for the seminary, the former institutes having been more selective than the latter. The research project of which this report is a part is also concerned with specifying psychological attributes which distinguish successful 17-year-old candi-dates from nonsuccessful ones, success defined in terms of interpersonal relation-ships and job competence after final profession. Preliminary results suggest this can be done to some extent for a given institute but that the findings are not generalizable even between two similar institutes, for example, between two institutes of brothers engaged in the same work. This, too, would argue against 352 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 making specific entry age recommendations for all Church vocations and would argue instead for institutes establishing entry age policies based on studies of their own candidates. REFERENCES Gerlach, J. Form. ation: Some Reflections and Convictions. Review for Religious, Vol. 30, No. 5, September, 1971. Keefe, J. Maturity io the High School Seminary: An Empirical Approach. The Catholic Psychological Record, 1969, 6, 1, ,I 5-29. Kinnane, J. F., Career Development for Priests and Religious. Washington, D.C.: C.A.R.A. 1970. Lewis, A., Bowles, W. and Grace, R. Attitude Study Among Priests and Religious in New Orleans Archdiocese. Project ~560, May, 1967 Unpublished paper. Mitchell, K. R. Priestly Celibacy from a Psychological Perspective. The Journal of Pastoral Care, Vol. 24, No. 4, December, 1970. Patterson, H. A Study of Student Mortality at St. Anthony's Seminary and Suggestions for Improving the Situation. Master's Dissertation, Catholic University of America, | 942. Potvin, R. H. and Suziedelis, A. Seminarians of the Sixties. Washington! C.A.R.A. 1969. Rooney, J. J. Psychological Research on the American Priesthood: A Review of the~ Literature in E. C. Kennedy and V. J. Hecker, The Loyola Psychological Study of the Ministry and Life of the American Priests (Washington: National Conference of Catholic Bishops, 1971). Sacred Congregation of Religious and for Secular Institutes. Instruction on the Renewal of Religious Formation. Washington, D.C.: United States Catholic Conference, 1969. Schneider, B. and Hall, D. T. The Role of Assignment Characteristics in the Career Experiences of Diocesan Priests. in W. E. Bartlett (ed.) Evolving Religious Careers, Washington, D.C.: C.A.R.A. 1970. Verstynen, R. J. A Study of Perseverance in Relation to Vocations to the Priesthood. Master's Dissertation, Catholic University of America, 1948. Weisgerber, C. A. Psychological Assessment of Candidates for a Religious Order. Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1969. JOHN R. SHEETS, S.J. Soundings on the Present State of Religious Life [John R. Sheets, S.J., is professor of theology at Marquette University; 1131 West Wisconsin Avenue; Milwaukee, Wisconsir~ 53233.] Anyone who attempts to assess the present state of religious life in America today is in a position similar to that of a weatherman who might try to give a neat presentation of the weather across the country. It defies any neat categories. In one part it is calm, in another stormy. In one, it is warm; in another, below zero. High in the atmosphere there are currents of air which no one picks up without the proper instruments, while close to the earth there are other currents which everyone can feel. Changing the comparison, we would like to present some "soundings" concerning the present condition of religious life in America. "Soundings" is a safe word for what we would like to do. Taking soundings of the ocean floor, for example, is always a combination of accurate analysis plus some educated guesswork. At the same time, the nature of sounding what lies beneath the surface respects the fact that the picture can change very suddenly because of the constant movement of the currents. There are two assumptions underlying all that is said below. They are quite obvious, but it is necessary to mention them in order to put the rest of" the remarks in their proper context. The first assumption is this: There are certain fundamental components involved in all change which must interact harmoniously if there is to be growth and development. These components of change are mainly concerned with permanence and variability, sameness and newness, unity and diversity, continuity and discon-tinuity, conservation and innovation. When these components are mutally suppor-tive, there is progressive growth. When they fail to mesh and are at odds, the result is frustration, stagnation, fragmentation, and disintegration. The second assumption concerns the vital synthesis of these components. They are held together only through vision and values which are shared. The components are only mutually supportive if they are held together from above through faith enriched by love. Where faith is lost, these components lose their synthesizing center. They tend to break off and live a life of their own when the center is gone. On the other hand, where they are rooted in a common faith, then, while there may be stress and strain, there will inevitably be growth. We would like to make our soundings of religious life on the basis of these two assumptions. It seems that our soundings pick up an antagonism between these components of change as well as approaches to synthesis. We would like to hazard the opinion that this antagonism comes largely from an overreaction to what we 354 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 can vaguely call a "classical" view of religious life. This is the first point we would like to make. In the second place, we would like to comment on the fact that in many instances the synthesis is lost because the vision and values that were shared are no longer shared. In the third place, we want to call attention to the phenomenon of fresh synthesis that is taking place in many religious personally as well as in their congregations. Overreaction to the "Classical" Mentality We said above that growth depends on the harmonious interaction of the various components of change and that frustration occurs where these begin to be antagonistic to each other instead of supportive. One of the main sources of this antagonism today comes from an overreaction to the past. Today one often hears our own age of rapid change contrasted with a "classical" world view. This term is a hard one to nail down adequately. Among other things it connotes a mentality which is static, uniform, traditional, symmetrical. No period and no person in history ever verified this description perfectly. It is for the most part a mental construct. Nevertheless, in comparison with our present age, it does serve as a useful category. Our own age takes its orientation not only from the various forces that are at work, but also from the fact that these forces are fed by undertows of reaction toward the past. This is not an unusual phenomenon. Other periods of history have been marked largely by the way in which they reacted .to the past. The period of Romanticism, for example,took its shape and force largely as a reaction to the Enlightenment. The same process takes place in individuals as well as in groups. A person who has been brought up in a home that is overrestrictive can turn his initial taste of freedom into a spree of irresponsibility. It seems that many problems in religious life today come not simply from a legitimate reaction but from an overreaction to what can be vaguely called a "classical" form of religious life. Reaction in itself is not necessarily harmful. It can in fact provide impetus to move a person or a group forward. When it becomes an overreaction, however, it moves a person or a group into a position of imbalance. Overreaction can act like a blind force pushing a person or a group into a position beyond the point where they would normally go if they had full control of the situation. Where there is overreaction, reason does not lead. It is only called upon to legitimate the position a person has been forced into by overreaction. Similarly, overreaction is not the product of freedom and choice but of a passion generated by antagonism against a previous state of things. Reaction, as was said, can be an incentive to move beyond the point where one finds himself. Reaction can be the realm of the Spirit. Overreaction, on the other hand, is the realm of the demonic. Reaction can be the activity of the prophet. Overreaction is characteristic of the fanatic. Reaction is power under control. Overreaction is power without control. We can ascribe three main characteristics to the "classical" mentality. They are (1) anonymity, (2) structure, (3) subordination of the individual to the community. In lining up these characteristics we repeat the caution that they are largely a mental construct we put on the past. While they are verified, they are never found in an unmixed form. At the same time we want to avoid the idea that we are condemning the "classical" mentality. It is like pointing out a particular style of architecture that characterized a certain period in history. It is no reflection on the Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 355 genuinity of religious dedication in the past. Our contemporary "architecture" will become "classical" to the generations that follow us. The Reaction against Anonymity One of the reactions to what we called the classical mentality is the reaction against "being a nobody." It is a reaction against a certain kind of anonymity that was part of religious life. Perhaps anonymity is not the right word. In any case, the religious was not to call attention to himself as an individual. He was in a sense to " be a symbolic presence, where what he stood for shone through the individual characteristics. For this reason, particularly with religious women, the religious garb itself served an important function, not only in its positive value as sign, but also in what could be called a negative sense. Individual characteristics were "blacked out," very often to the point where only the face was visible. Whenever religious women today reminisce about the kind of clothes they used to wear, they usually do so with a mixture of humor, wonder, and relief, somewhat in the same way that children react to the old pictures in an album. However, when one realizes the thinking behind that manner of dress, it is not all that ridiculous. The dress was in some way to reduce what was purely individual in order to manifest the personal. Individual characteristics were suppressed to make room for what was beyond the individual. We are not calling for a return to those particular modes of dress. It is important, however, to understand the rationale behind them. The same thinking was behind the custom of changing one's name. When a religious gave up his family name and assumed a new name, this change was symbolic of a new mode of existence. This anonymity was a kind of a general condition in which religious, especially religious women, worked and lived. It monitored one's whole life. One's home, background, family, were kept hidden like a precious secret. We can all remember (except the ~,ery youngest of us) when one of the greatest childhood thrills was to discover the color of sister's hair, or to find out her real name. The cloister itself was a graphic symbol of this hiddenness. Today there is a strong reaction against any factor which is associated with anonymity. As HammarskjiSld observes in his diary, "Our final wish is to have scribbled off the wall our 'Kilroy was here.' " We all want to be recognized, not to be a nobody, but to be a somebody, and to have what we do acknowledged by others as our own work. Though we boast about our being able to go it alone, wo are very dependent on the recognition given us by others. No one can deny the value in such a reaction where it makes someone a more genuine person. Often, however, it results in making someone more of an individual, but less of a person. The difference between the individual and the personal is the difference in the color of one's eyes and the light in his eyes, or the shape of one's body and the genuineness of one's love. What is individual in us is (to use St. Paul's expression) the earthenware vessel in which we carry the personal. Where the individual is cultivated at the expense of the personal, we find something like those tiny Japanese trees which are very beautiful but unfruitful. While each of us has the temptation to sacrifice the person on the altar of the individual in us, the overreaction to the anonymity of the past has in many cases brought about a cult of individualism rather than a deepening of the personal. There is a difference between the liberation of the person and the liberation of what is individual in us. Often what passes for liberation of the personal.:in us is simply a disguised form of individualism. 356 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 Another aspect of this reaction against the anonymity of the past is evident in the strong movement to have a say in what is happening. In the past, religious, especially religious women, were to be seen, not heard. They never had a share in the decision-making in the parish, diocese, or Church. They were always obediently "there." Decisions from Rome, the Sacred Congregation of Religious, or the chancery office were accepted with unquestioning obedience, at least as far as execution was concerned. There was a certain mystique to the whole idea of authority in the Church. An interesting reaction has taken place, which in many instances has assumed the proportions of an overreaction. If in the past there was a mystique about authority, today there is a de-mystification of authority to the point where the very ¯ foundations of ecclesial authority are denied. Ecclesiastical authority, especially if it is of the unAmerican type, is relegated to something like baroque architecture, which is a relic of the past. In a very brief span of ten years, many religious, as individuals and as groups, have come of age, and issued their declaration of independence, often in the words dictated to them by some other authority. Chesterton's remark, though written decades ago, is apropos. He said: "Thousands of women rose up and said, 'We shall not be dictated to!' Then they sat down to be stenographers." It is unfortunate that an overreaction to a "classical" mode of exercising authority has led many to reject or to question the authority of the Church itself in matters touching their religious life. When this happens, another authority comes in to take the place of the one rejected. Nature abhors a vacuum. An authority vacuum is soon filled with another authority. Often the situation is like that described in the gospel, where seven devils enter who are worst than the first. In something of a similar vein, religious are feeling their "political oats." There is also a reaction to anonymity here. They are beginning to realize that they can and should have a voice in the affairs of the Church and society. Much of this is on the positive side of the ledger. There is a danger, however, that some may lose sight of the fact that a religious group does not exist primarily to exercise political pressures through the use of political tactics. Their political influence in fact is mainly exercised through witness to the gospel values in a manner which ve.ry often is incompatible with the strategies involved in politics. The Reaction against Structure We have commented on the imbalance that comes from an overreaction against a kind of "classical" arlonymity which we associate with religious life of the past. This same kind of a phenonmenon occurs in reaction to "structure." It is hard to pin down exactly what is contained in the word "structure?' Many use it in different ways. In any case, it seems to be loaded with many of the connotations we described as being part of the "classical" mentality. It conjures up spectres of impersonalism, inflexibility, regulation, and stereotype. In the past, at least in the case of many religious, practically every detail of their lives was regulated, the way they dressed, the order of the day, their manner of dealing with externs, their correspondence, and so forth. It is understandable that there should be a reaction to this type of regulation. But, as in the case with the reaction against anonymity, which has become the cult of the individual, here also the overreaction against structure has often turned into adolescent immaturity. There is almost an allergy to any type of regulation at all. Even language itself has to be purged of words that suggest anything like regulation. The word "rule" has Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 357 gone into the limbo of forbidden words and has been replace.d with safe words like "guidelines," "directives." As an overreaction to the regulation of everything, many are spastic about the regulation of anything. In many cases even the revised constitutions, the product of much work, prayer, study, discussion, are very careful to be "safe" in their terminology. Words that have any connotation of structure are carefully avoided. Very often these constitutions are written on the tide of overreaction and are careful to play down any idea of subordination of self to anything like structure. Yet it is a matter of common sense that structure is one of the components of growth that we spoke of earlier. It is like the branches of a tree through which the life flows to produce the fruit. Of course, structure without life is dead, and life without structure is aimless. Along with this reaction to overregulation, there is also the reaction to oversupervision. Some religious consider their duty is done if they "check in" occasionally to let superiors know what is happening. In many cases, superiors themselves have abdicated any real role of authority. They see their role only as serving as a kind of check point to keep the traffic running smoothly. These remarks should not be construed as hankering after the days of yore, where every detail in a person's life was regulated, and being an authority was identified with giving orders. They serve to point out a fact, however. Overreaction to that kind of a life has often resulted in a caricature not simply of religious life, but of any kind of life, which needs a certain structure and regulation if there is to be concerted work for a goal. The Reaction to Institution Along with the reaction against anonymity and structure, there is the reaction against institution. While this word is related to structure, when we use it here we are thinking of the corporate nature of the religious group. It takes into consideration the relationship of the part to the whole, and the whole to the part. We see the same phenomenon here that we have commented on above. There is a profound malaise with everything connoted" by the word "institutional." Once again, as a reaction against certain features of our institutional life, this movement can be very healthy. However, when it becomes an overreaction, the components of change begin to clash instead of supporting each other. One aspect of the reaction to "institution" is the movement to small commu-nities. It is an attempt to "de-institutionalize" one's life. It is too early to assess the results of this. In some cases, it has resulted in a more genuine community life, both within the small community, and in the relationship of the small community to all of the other communities. In other instances, the s~ into individuals who share the same rooms without sh~ As part of this reaction against institution, there i., vision of one's apostolate to one's personal career. apostolate of many religious communities has lost tl~ has been reduced for all practical purposes to a group own flight plans. The apostolates that have suffered areas, where hospitals and schools have closed and r facing an uncertain future, because they have no !~ whether religious will still be interested in such work. Now I feel I must tread where even angels fear religious garb. A few years ago (though it seems like a concerned with modifying the religious garb. Now it nail communities degenerate ing anything else. the tendency to narrow the is a great tragedy that the community dimension and individuals turning in their the most are those in rural aany others find themselves uarantee from year to year walk. It is the matter of ',entury) the discussions were a matter in many cases of 358 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 adoption of a mode of dress which in no way disti.nguishes a person as a religious. This is a very touchy subject. Though the question of clothing is trivial in itself when compared with values like faith and charity, it assumes in practice an importance out of all proportion to the fact that it is something extrinsic, while the other values are intrinsic. This phenomenon should already give us a hint concerning the nature of clothing. Clothes are never merely extrinsic. They are like the face. They mirror forth the person behind the face. We have been speaking of the reaction against anonymity, structure, and institution, where an overreaction results in individualism instead of personalism, fragmentation instead of integration, careerism instead of group apostolate. It seems that the question of clothing is of particular importance because it becomes as it were the symbol of the reaction against all of these classical features, not just against one of them. On the other hand, is it not possible that it has become an anti-symbol, where it symbolizes individualism, fragmentation, and careerism? We hope that, even though this is such a sensitive subject, most of us are beyond the stage where rational discussion is swallowed up in emotional reactions. We seem to have forgotten that the social sciences have given us much insight into the matter of clothes. All studies of human clothing point out the basic fact that clothes are not just things. They are part of the body-person, t Leaning on the research of the social sciences, we would like to comment on two aspects of clothing: what we wear gives visible shape to our inner attitude, and in turn what we wear shapes the attitudes. In both cases, this comes from the fact that clothes have a symbolic nature. Our inner attitudes are expressed in the way we speak, act, and dress. This is the law of our being. Human clothing is not just a protection against the elements. It forms an important link in that interlocking network of symbols in which we communicate with one another. Clothes are a function of meaning even more than words. They do in fact provide the light in which people interpret our words. We all recall the story of the Turkish astronomer in The Little Prince. No learned society accepted the report of his discovery of the new asteroid until he changed from Turkish clothes into European costume. Clothing, therefore, is never neutral. While this is true for every human being, it seems that it is especially true. for women. Clothes are not blank cartridges. When Judith prepared to meet Holofernes, she knew what every woman knows. Clothes are a manifestation of inner intentionality. The medium is the message. There are three levels of our existence, each of which is manifested by the way we dress. On the first level, clothes manifest our inner attitudes. On the second level, they manifest something more superficial, a job that we have, as we see in the uniform of a policeman, a soldier, a nurse. On the third and most profound level, they symbolize our meaning. A wedding dress, for example, is more than a symbol of an inner attitude, more than a uniform someone wears to get married. It symbolizes the meaning of a person's life, which from this point on is to be a life-with-another. The same is true of the vestments worn by the priest when he is celebrating. They symbolize more than a mentality. They are not a uniform used for worship. They serve to draw the worshippers into a new mode of existence. The symbolic aspect of clothing is obvious. There is another aspect of clothing, I see for example in Encyclopedia of the Social Sciences the entries under "Dress," "Fashion," and so forth; see also: J. C. Flugel, The Psychblogy of Clothes (New York, 1950), and Mary Shaw Ryan, Clothing: A Study in Human Behavior (New York, 1966). Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 however, which we do not think about as often. Clotl as the saying goes, "clothes make the man." In a ge man more really than man makes the clothes. All psychologists, and for that matter anyone w aware that the most sure way to change a person's v the symbols which surround his life. A person's changing his ideas alone. The change comes fr( meaningful sense symbols which gradually change sudden a person finds himself thinking in a different way a person dresses affects the way he thinks. self-image; they create it. Clothes are like reflectors. are, but they also act as reflectors in which we see of what we see. It is of great importance for religious to avail the~ matter of clothing provided by the social scientists. 0 that clothes are a way of speaking. The question to be To what extent should what I wear speak to others' inner character, or my job, or my meaning? Similarb psychological effect that clothes have on our thinking" Let us sum up our remarks for this first part. We r~ growth depend on the harmonious interworking of t many cases we saw th, at these components, insteac ended up in antagonistic positions. This can be trace overreaction to what is called a classical mentality. Ma from reaction, but where reaction gets out of bound: frustrate progress. We pointed out three areas in whi have been particularly strong: against anonymity, : nature of religious life which we globally describ~ commented on the fact that attitudes toward, religi influenced by the same type of reaction. The Loss of Shared Values and Shared Vision We mentioned above that the components of c! synthesis through shared faith and shared values. Whe works and lives at cross purposes. They are like rowe trying to row in his own direction. There is no doubt that the atmosphere of seculari~ and hearts of many religious. This is a process of h that are distinctively Christian are leveled to a vague, h betterment. Those values of the gospel which are rationalistic mind and sinful nature are de-scandaliz~ categories of relevance. Those gospel values which res Such are the scandal of the cross, the virtues of h~ renuntiation, repentance, and penance. In some cases secularization has not only de-Christ: even infected the ideas that some religious have about To all appearances some religious seem to have lost the Sometimes the gospel values crystalized in the tra chastity, poverty, and obedience, are lost in the perf~ vows is "updated" into some more meaningful an~ 359 es not only manifest the man; luine sense, clothes make the no knows human nature, are ,hole personality is to change character is not changed by ,m the pressure exerted by the concepts, until all of a way than he did before. The They not only express his ['hey not only reflect what we urselves and assume the shape tselves of the insights into the ne cannot avoid the basic fact answered by everyone is this: ' Should clothes manifest my ,, we have to be aware of the entioned that all progress and ~e components of growth. In of supporting one another, at least in great part, to an ny positive features can come ~ it delivers ultimatums which .~h this overreaction see.ms to ;tructure, and the corporate d ds institution. Finally we ~us garb are to "some extent ~ange are kept in a healthy a these are lost, a community rs in a boat, each of whom is ation has infected the mind~ arizontalization where values umanistic concern for human a perennial scandal to the d and adapted to the bland st adaptation are abandoned. ~nility, docility, abnegation, anized the gospel, but it has God, Christ, and the Church.

Issue 29.1 of the Review for Religious, 1970. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDI.TORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Eilard. 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 R~wEw vog l~uG~ous; Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63~o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9xo6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Provirice Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright (~) 1970 by RZVzEw' FOR RELIOIOUS at 428 East Preston Str~:t; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class posta[~e paid at Baltimore, Maryland and ai addiuonal mailing offices. Single copies: $1.00. Suhscsiption U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, "$9.00 for two years; other countries: $5.50 a year, $10.00 for two yean. Orders should indicate whether they ah: for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to RFvu~w FOR RI~LIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions; wl~re ~ccom-padded by a remittance, should be sent to Rgv~zw ~OR RELIGIOUS; P. O. ~X 671; Baltimo~, Ma~land 21203. Chang~ of addr~, bu~ co~es~nd~ce, and ord~s not a~ ompa~ed a remittance should be g~Ltotous ; 428 East ~eston Ma~land 21202. Manu~ripts, ~itofial cor- ~s~ndence, and ~oks for r~iew should sent to REVIEW FOR gELIOIOUS; 612 Hum~ldt Building; 539 North Grand ~ul~ard; Saint ~uis, Mi~uri 63103. Qu~fions for answering should ~ the Qu~fio~ and ~we~ ~tor. JANUARY 1970 VOLUME 29 NUMBER 1 REVIEW FOR Volume 29 1970 EDITORIAL OFFIG'E 539 North Grand Boulevard St. Louis, Missouri 63103 BUSINESS OFFICE 428 East Preston Street Baltimore, Maryland 21202 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. Published in January, March, May, July, September, Novem-ber on the fifteenth of the month. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOLIS is indexed in the Catholic Peri-odical Index land in Book Re-view Index. Microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS i8 available from University Mi-crofilms; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. GEORGE WILSON, S.J. Community. and Loneliness Not another article on communityl Haven't we all heard enough on that subject to last us through our next ten general chapters? Perhaps. But I hope the reader will excuse me if I muse a bit out loud on some questions in this area which I feel we have neglected in spite of the deluge of analyses, anathemas, and recipes to which we have been treated in recent years. The reflections which follow will have only the merest semblance of any order. I make no apology for this. It happens to represent for me the state of the issues, which recurrently bob to the surface of my consciousness like the flotsam from a variety of experiences with religious men and women over the past six years. It strikes me, incidentally, that flotsam may be a particularly apt word inasmuch as some of these experiences involved rather disastrous shipwrecks. We might make a good beginning by taking eight giant steps backwards to a typical religious community in the year 1962. (We now know that such a thing never existed, of course; beneath the surface each com-munity was really very different. In those idyllic days, however, we might very well have lived under such an illusion.) We heard about the Council---the typical first reaction was "I wonder why?"--so we prayed for the gentle rain of the Spirit. We prayed for the success of the Council more or less as we would have prayed for a Eucharistic congress. We prayed for rain and we were treated to a ty-phoon. And not least in the area of what we came to call "community." We might even have to remind our-selves now that the word "community" was hardly ever heard before the Council. And certainly if we used it at all, it was not with all the psychological baggage with which it is currently burdened. In those ÷ + George Wilson, $.J., teaches theol-ogy at Woodstock College in Wood-stock, Md. 21163. VOLUME 29, 1970 + 4. 4. George Wilson, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS days we might have spoken of "common life"--but that was such a different thing. I hope I will be for-given the whimsical reflection that in those days "com-mon life" was frequently used to engineer the rigidity which precisely destroys all life, whereas today our more likely mistake is to invoke "community" in order to perpetrate all the most bizarre diversities which haven't the foggiest connection with the people with ¯ whom we live. Lest this latter remark be misconstrued, let me .hasten to add that it is not in any way a plea for more togetherness. I suppose at this point I am just suggesting that we abandon the futile gesture of trying to baptize the many sensible, good, and apostolic things done by religious with the tag "community." If indeed they are sensible, good, and apostolically profitable, they will remain so even without the tag, as long as the religious lives up to his or her basic commitment to the group. At any rate, I think we would all admit that "com-munity" has taken on new burdens in the renewal years. The new factor consists in the conscious emphasis on personal enrichment of the life of the individual through the intimate sharing of life with similarly dedi-cated persons. This is not to suggest that religious life in previous decades did not bring rich personal satis-faction to the lives of many wonderful and wonder-fully human beings. It is one of the cruel illusions of some of our fiery reformers to think that they dis-covered the category of the personal--cruel to others because it seems to cast a shadow over the accomplish-ment of their great lives of service, but even more cruel to the reformers themselves because, being, an illusion, it prevents them from seeing precisely the beauty of lives lived for years at a steady, if less ro-matically intense, warmth. One is tempted to think of beams and motes and so forth. Be that as it may, the difference between then and today is not, I would submit, that between coldness and warmth, but rather between a then in which the warm personal successes and the cold impersonal failures were just lived, and a today, in; which they are consciously sought after (warm personal relationships) or consciously and ruthlessly knocked down (the merely functional, computerized, impersonal civilities). People were always warm (some) and cold (some) and they still are today (some of e~ch). Wheat and cockle and all that. It is just that we religious have as a group grown more reflective about how it happens; we have evolved a new set of forms which define and give contemporary expression to warmth and coldness (and we .are evolving even newer forms at a dizzy pace); and we are more consciously searching out the ways to increase the successes and minimize the failures in the process. All of which is good. Religious communities not only should be places in which the full development of human personal potential for life and love and happiness takes place, they should also be evidently such. Signs which don't communicate are worse than anomalies: they have the fateful chameleon capacity to become counter-signs. Let it be proclaimed once and for all: a man or woman giving his or her life to Christ in a religious society should find there the ac-ceptance and warmth and affection which any hu-man being has a right to look for in his commitment to any other person or group of persons. Unfortunately this still does not get us out of the woods. I say unfortunately, because I am afraid that many religious feel that the mere affirmation is enough by itself to answer all difficulties. To draw a bold caricature which probably never happened, I ~aave the recurring fantasy of a contemporary religious say-ing: "A religious community should be an intimate group of people who are in love with one another. I don't feel that way about any of the eight people I live with and I certainly know non~ of them feels that way about me. So this isn't a community, and I'm get-ting out of this farce." Put in such a starkly simplistic form, some of the ambiguities which lurk within our thinking about community are thrown into a new light and some finer honing of our questions is called for. What degree of intimacy can a person realistically hope for with eight people selected more or less at random by somebody who won't be living with them? Yes, the community should supply warmth and personal sup-pol: t--but just who is the community when I say that? Does the community commit itself to being my only source of deep personal relationships and human ful-fillment? Need it always and in every instance even be the primary source? Is it possible that by failing to face these questions we have created a thought pattern in which the individual religious is unwittingly taught to have entirely unrealistic expectations and then when these cannot be met he or she is compelled to seek their fulfillment elsewhere? It has been observed in the case of marriage that our current high divorce rate can be directly attributed to the fact that modern man's ex-pectations from marriage are, contrary to a superficial view, actually much higher than in the past; would the increasing rate of departures from religious life be say-ing the same thing about our expectations concerning it? I would not pretend to answer all of these difficult questions in the space of a brief article. But perhaps we + 4. + Loneliness VOLUME 29, 1970 5 + ÷ ÷ George Wilson, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 6 may move the dialogue along a bit by examining a couple of areas: (l) the people with whom I should expect to find "community" when I commit myself to Christ in a religious group, and (2) one of the false understandings of community under which we may have been unwittingly operating. First, to the people. The operating principle of many religious today would seem to be that I should be able to attain to deep intimacy with all the members of my local community or else it is all a sham. I will leave aside the question which the older religious, often quite legitimately, is frequently heard to ask, namely, what in the name of all that's holy do they mean by "deep intimacy"? My presumption for the moment is that the people in question are attempting to point to something real of which they have already had some experiential taste and which they do expect to find in religious life, however halting they may be in articulat-ing what they mean by it. In other words, I can also sympathize with their common response of "if you don't even sense what I'm talking about, that's even sadder than the fact that we don't have it here." At this point the meaning of "deep intimacy" is not my con-cern. But leaving it descriptively for the moment at the level of a vague but real experience whose presence or lack can be grasped by any sensitive human being, my question is rather: With whom should I reasonably expect to achieve it? There is a "tradition" (of very recent vintage, I sus-pect) which would be shocked that the question is even raised, since sell-evidently this kind of relationship has to be achieved with one's local community. To which my question in return would be: is it all that self-evident? I ought to find a~ceptance and warmth and affection in the community of people to whom I have committed myself, but does this lead me realistically to expect a relationship of deep intimacy with the eight members of my local community? At about this point in the dialogue it is not unlikely that someone will be thinking: "But just look at the community of our first foundersl They had this kind of deep relationship, but we've lost it." The comparison is frequently made and I would like to suggest that it masks a fateful equivocation. To use the word "com-munity" to describe a handful of people who freely and individually sought each other out through a proc-ess of long personal contact and testing, and then to make this a model for one's expectations when one is assigned to a random collection of eight individuals out of a 500-man (or 35,000-man) congregation to which I commit mysel/-~this is surely courting intellectual con- fusion and psychological disaster. The founding group had a sense of community and generally very intimate relationships. (Would one seem too cynical if one were to suggest that we have probably romanticized even the latter element? A sober reading of our early histories would suggest that for all their vision and charisma our founders generally had to be very hard-headed, down-to-earth wrestlers in order to. survive the fierce opposition which their vision generated.) The fact that they had both these elements in one integrated, lived way should not make us forget that they are two different things. Perhaps a parallel drawn from a related area may be of some assistance here. The movement known as the Teams of Our Lady (or by its original French title, Equipes-Notre Dame) consists of married couples who are established into communities of six couples each. It is important to note that the couples do not as a rule choose the other couples with whom they will de-velop as a team; the leadership of the movement usually gathers them on the basis of factors such as geographical proximity and so forth. The goal of the team is to help one another grow in holiness, which involves assisting each couple to find the ways to express love in the various situations into which their marriage and family life call them. The forms and practices of the spiritual life vary from couple to couple. The role of the other couples in the team is to foster the individual couple's unique growth, not to dictate a particular recipe for conjugal sanctity. The point of the parallel is that the testimony of the couples in the movement reveals that they have discovered experientially the distinction be-tween a successful team and what they call a "cozy team." A given team which is functioning well may gradually develop also into a cozy group; the couples and their children may begin to socialize apart from the explicit team structure, they may begin to gravitate to-ward other team couples in deep friendship. Or they may not. The point is that couples find that this factor is not essential to the success of a team. Teams can reach great depths of spiritual sharing and mutual assistance and growth without a great deal of socializ-ing or what one might call camaraderie. Indeed there are teams whose rating on the latter scale is very high but in which nothing of significance with regard to the goal of the movement is happening. It will be instantly objected that the supposed paral-lel is fallacious because of course these couples already have their primary needs for intimacy satisfied else-where, prior to entry into a team. The objection has some merit; certainly the parallel limps. On the other hand, it would be a bit cavalier to dismiss it out of + 4, VOLUME 29, 1970 4. 4. 4. George Wilson, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8 hand simply on those grounds. We must face the fact that when we admit the inadequacies of the parallel we are not thereby justified in ignoring the facets in which it does touch home in spite of its hobbling gait. Nor--more importantly--may we thereby surrepti-. tiously insert the assumption that the religious must of course find his or her admitted needs for intimacy satis-fied within the local cgmmunity. Despite the weak-nesses of the parallel I submit that this notion remains at this point in the case exactly that, just an assump-tion. What are we to say of its value? It occurs to me that we might make a better assessment of it if we pose some specific situations for ourselves. Suppose that a given sister or brother or priest, were to discover that he or she finds it much more pleasant to be with, say, a member of the lay faculty or some parishioner or fellow nurse than with members of the local community. A deep and rich friendship has evolved through sharing important experiences together. There may be several such relationships. The religious may honestly face the fact that he shares a deeper level of friendship with people beyond the community than with those inside ~t. Should this be a disturbing discovery? Should it lead to the conclusion that this religious group ~is only a hollow facade and that honesty dictates a resignation from the group? My own personal answer would have to be negative. If I might take a stab at describing the stages of the re-cent development of community life styles, I would suggest that it has proceeded along the following lines: (1) the "lived" stage mentioned above. There were de facto some rich friendships in religious communities. There was also an explicit doctrine which inculcated fear of any human warmth. The healthy were always able to put this doctrine in psychological brackets and go on about the business of living, which is to say, trying to be human. The less healthy were more crippled by the tradition or, as a perhaps harsher judgment would have it, allowed themselves to be crippled by it. At this stage relationships outside the community were the ultimate no-no. (2) The explicit doctrine was gradually battered down by the new openness to in-sights from the human sciences, if it did not simply crumble from the weight of its own unreality. Friend-ship, warmth, openness became values to be consciously striven after. Rather ironically we rediscovered that fusty old English word "Thou~' (as .in "I-hyphen- Thou"; but never in hymns, pleasel) and eyeball-to-eyeball became the image of the day. But this was all to be within the community--it is no accident that our word "pagan" has as one of its earliest meanings simply "an outsider." And although the explicit doctrine of suspicion of friendship was finished, an unwritten tradition had evolved very quickly, according to which the community where friendship had to be discovered was the local community. In the meantime a third step was taking place, one which deserves a separate paragraph because it repre-sents the present for many religious. Having been con-sciously opened to the value of the human, they discovered that it existed outside the religious group as well. They inevitably began to experience the rise of friendships with persons outside the group. In some communities the explicit tradition quickly adjusted to this new fact by seeing it as a natural consequence of openness to personal relationship and accepted it as a good thing; in others the notion has had a more bumpy ride. For all, the -~ituation became more tense when father or brother or sister found that there were many more inviting people outside than in. The new tradition has created an intolerable bind for many. They are being told in effect (1) that every human being needs some deeply fulfilling human re-lationships, (2) that these should not be fostered out-side the community, or at least (3) that even if outside relationships are acceptable one should be able to reach that same level of intimacy with those religious with whom one happens to live as a result of the need for a teacher of remedial reading---a placement deter-mined by someone who in all probability will not be sharing the local community situation. At this juncture I am not. sure whether I have more .to fear from my. friends than my attackers. I can imagine one group hailing me because I have shown that they were right all along, that all this deep relationship business was exaggerated and all we really have to do to have .community is to be civil. (Sometimes things get so bad in dealing with this mentality that one is almost tempted to agree and settle for that, but civility seems to be one of those things you cannot have all by itself; either we aie going forward to love and warmth or else we are soon back in the cold jungle.) A group .on the opposite side is saying: "Of course that's not what he means. What he's clearly shown is that the only solution is to let everyone choose his or her own local group. Then we' can reduplicate the intimacy of our founding fathers." A third group is made up of the poor harried school,supervisors and provincials, and they are probably muttering in the corner that I have leveled another juvenile a.ttack against that old straw man, the im-personal bureaucratic sturcture, when they have had ÷ 4. ÷ ÷ ÷ 4. George Wilson, S.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]0 their insides torn out trying to respect the personal needs of individuals in the face of important com-munity commitments. Which means it is time for fixing our position. I am not going back on my stand affirming the importance of warm and deep human relationships for all human beings and therefore for all religious. Nor on the other hand am I convinced that a group of people which has a job to do can simply let its members form all its subgroups on the basis of free association untram-meled by the facts of broader common commitments. And I have the greatest sympathy for those in the com-munity who have the difficult task of reconciling per-sons, pegs, and holes; their service, far from being mere bureaucracy, is generally one of the most excruciatingly personal ones in the whole community. No, our solution lies neither in shrinking back from personal relationships nor in totally free association. I would suggest that the sources for an answer are in two places: in the broader pool of the larger religious community and in the open personal concourse of religious with the outside world they serve. A religious need not feel especially troubled on discovering that there are no close personal friends among those with whom he or she happens to live, provided that some-where in the larger religious group there are those with whom such a relationship exists. And the com-munity should foster the normal means by which such relationships can flourish and grow: the chance to choose vacation partners, freedom to visit and recreate to-gether without the other members of each one's local community feeling slighted, trips within reason (proportioned by the same responsible norms which two lay friends might have to use in making such a decision, such as available funds, other commitments, and so forth). Beyond the incarnated friendships of those in different local communities warm relationships with other men and women outside the community should be expected to arise, be fostered when they do, and be given the normal modes of expression which suit such relationships (if sister has to be home by midnight on a particular occasion, it is not because she is sister but because she is an adult human being with a responsibil-ity to perform as an adult the next morning--and that is something she should be free to discover for her-self by trial and, alas, error). In this way we can ease the impossible demand which has been placed on the local community by the tradition of unreasonable ex-pectations. We will of course still have to be open to growth in the depth of our relationships in the local community. We will have to be on our guard lest the needs of more withdrawn members of the local group go unattended. But paradoxically, it is just possible that we may be better able to meet these basic demands of love on the local scene if we do not expect that scene to fulfill all our human personality needs. All of this might become more acceptable doctrine if we were to examine the normal patterns of mature and healthy individuals-in-community. It is quite natural for the mature adult in our society to func-tion within a wide diversity of social circles simul-taneously, to have his own needs met and to meet the needs of others in a variety of ways and on different levels. This is true even of that most intimate of com-munities constituted by the one-to-one relationship of marriage. The husband lives on one level with his wife, on another in his field of occupation, on still another with a few very close male friends (with whom his wife may or may not be on such close terms), on another with more casual social acquaintances; he may even have a select group with whom his only contact may be a weekly game of handball. The wife's circles will be analogous; in some instances they may range more broadly than his, as for example in the parish or neighborhood. At times their circles will coincide, at times not. They will strive to enlarge the areas they share (which may not necessarily mean that they do the things together; they learn to enrich each other by sharing what they have done separately). But one thing is sure: they know that if they demand even of this re-lationship that it satisfy all their personal needs for intimacy, it will become involuted and shrivel up and die. It is true of the couple; it is true of the family on a different level; and it is true of the individuals in a given local religious community. If we are supposing, then, that a particular religious will not have any really close friend within the group with whom he or she must share years of human life and work, are we not exposing the religious to a frightening risk of loneliness? This very real question brings us to the second area in which it was suggested that we might clarify our thinking, namely, a false understanding of community which may unwittingly be causing a lot of unhealthy departures from religious life. Actually it is really a false understanding of loneli-ness rather than immediately one of community which is at issue; but on a given level these are really correla-tive notions, and our understanding of the meaning of loneliness has its impact on our expectations from com-munity life. The issue was brought home most force-fully to me in a response by Thomas Merton to an ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 ]! George Wilson, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ']2 interviewer's question, as reported in Motive for Octo-ber,. 1967. The interviewer touched on the issue of celibacy and solitude; and Merton's answer read in part: I think I can say I have experienced levels of loneliness that most people do not allow themselves consciously to admit. From a certain point of view I can say bluntly that to exist as a man without relating to one particular woman-and-person who is "my love," is quite simply a kind of death. But I have enough experience of human love to realize, too, that even within the best of relationships between man and woman this loneliness and death are also terribly present. There are mo-ments in human love in which loneliness is completely tran-scended, but these are brief and deceptive, and they can point 9nly to the further and more difficult place where, ultimately, two lonely and helpless persons elect to save one another from absurdity by being absurd together--and for life (pp. 36-7). This explicitation of the fact that there is a certain kind of loneliness experienced within the most intimate of unions and even in its peak moments can be of in-valuable assistance in clarifying our expectations from religious life in community. Whether we consciously admit it to ourselves or not, we.do tend to interpret the meaning and value of various human experiences by comparing them with expectations from other ways of life. This is a perfectly human process, for man is, after all, a prudential being. But the worth of the process depends on the realism with which we view the two situations. It is my convic-tion that a number of religious have made the decision to leave, religious life on the unhealthy basis of a judgment that the loneliness of religious life would be assuaged by the relationships available in lay, and particularly married, life. It is important to be dear 0n what is being asserted here. It should be evident that there is no criticism of these people intended, and certainly not a condemnation. Nor is there any at-tempt to dispute their assessment that indeed for them life with this particular religious group had become intolerable due to the type of loneliness they actually experienced. What is at issue is the use of a principle according to which religious life itself would involve a loneliness that is unique to it and would therefore be ".solved" by departure from it. This is, I believe, an unreal assumption and any decision based on it is un-healthy because unreal. Clark,Moustakas has written a precious gem of a book .which .should be required reading for all religious in formation. Entitled simply Loneliness (Prentice-Hall ';Spectrum". :paperback), the brief work makes a valuable contribution to our discussion from two points of view. Moustakas first alerts us to the fact that the one word "loneliness" can actually cover two distinct reali-ties. One consists in the experiencing of my fundamental human uniqueness, separateness, and inalienable re-sponsibility for myself and my decisions, and actions. No one can stand in my shoes, no one can do "my thing." This quality of genuinely human experience, which Moustakas .calls existential loneliness, is quite simply a part of being human: Loneliness is as much organic to human existence as the blood is to the heart.~ It is a dimension of human life whether existential, sociologidal, or psychological; whatever its deriva-tives or forms, whatever its history, it is a reality of life. Its fear, evasion, denial, !and the accompanying attempts to escape 'the experience of being lonely will forever isolate the person from his own existerlce, will' afflict and separate him from his own resources so thht there is no development, no creative emergence, no growth in awareness, perceptiveness, sensitivity. If the individual does not exercise his loneliness, one signifi-cant capacity and dimension of being hum~in remains unde-veloped, denied (pp2 When we allow ,ourselves to experience this reality in all its dimensions; we discover that is, is a gomplex phenomenon which includes both the painful acknowl-edgment of our igclination to evade responsibili.ty by leaning on someone else as well as the exhilarating discovery of the Ipower of our deepest self and its capacify for respo.hsible accomplishment.-This kind of loneliness, which belongs to every adult's life, has to be distinguished from ~inottier reality which is call'dd by the same name but is really the anxious fear. of being left alone. Moustakas calls this latter loneliness anxiety: Loneliness anxiety results from a fundamental breach be-tween what one island what one pretends to be, a basic alienation between man and man and between man and his nature (p. 24). Modern man is ;plagued with the vague, diffuse fear of loneliness. He goesI to endless measures, takes devious and circuitous pathways] to avoid facing the experience of being lonely. Perhaps the !loneliness of a" meaningless existence, the absence of values, convictions, beliefs, and fear of isolation are the most terribl~ kind of loneliness anxiety (pp. 26-7). The fact that. twqt.very different realities can go by the same name g~ves r, lse to the question: When a religious laments the loneliness of the religious group and de-cides to resolve ~he tension by separating from the community, tehic~ lcind oI loneliness is he or she at-tempting to resolve? Please note that I am not trying to answer the ques-tion in any particular case. It may very well be that the .individual may have wakened to the very valid realiza-tion 'that life in this particular group does involve such a measure of pretense, superficiality, and meaningless Loneliness VOLUME 29, 1970 George Wilson, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]4 forms that he or she is in danger o~ total self-estrange-ment. When there is the concomitant realization that the individual is impotent to do anything about this destructive communal pattern, it may be the better part of valor to shake the dust of this group from one's shoes. (What one in such a case makes of his personal commitment to serve God as a celibate-- which need not be in this community--is a broader question whid~ would take us beyond the scope of this article.) On the other hand, there is the possibility that a person may be unwittingly seeking to evade the existential loneliness which he just happens to be ex-periencing more painfully now than at previous stages of his growth; and this would of course be an impossible quest. This kind of loneliness is just part and parcel of being human; and no change from one community to another, even if the latter is the community of marriage, will change that fact. It might seem that all of this leaves us with a de-pressing prospect: we are going to be lonely come what may. Here Moustakas' second contribution opens vistas unsuspected by the togetherness generation, for he re-minds us of the positive value of the experience of loneliness. Loneliness is a condition of existence which leads to deeper perception, greater awareness and sensitivity, and insights into one's own being. New images, symbols, and ideas spring from the lonely path. The man living his life, accepting all signifi-cant dimensions of human existence is often a tragic man but he is a man who loves life dearly. And out of the pain or loss, the bitter ecstasy of brief knowing and having, comes the glory of a single moment and the creation of a song for joy. In creative loneliness there is an element of separation, of being utterly alone, but there is also a strange kind of related-ness-- to nature and to other persons and through these ex-periences, a relatedness to life itself, to inspiration, wisdom, beauty, simplicity, value. A sense of isolation and solitude is experienced, but a relatedness to the universe is maintained. Only through fundamental relatedness can the individual de-velop his own identity. The individual's loneliness is an ex-perience in growing which leads to differentiation of self. The person's identity comes into relief as he breathes his own spirit into everything he touches, as he relates significantly and openly with others and with the universe. Without any deep and growing roots in the soil of loneli-ness, the individual moves in accordance with external signals. He does not know his place in the world, his position, where he is or who he is. He has lost touch with his own nature, his own spontaneity (p. 50). Paradoxically it is only in the creative experience of our aloneness that we can come to realize the gift which we alone can bring in relatedness to those we love. It is true that only the love of another opens us up to the acceptance of our own worth (a point which must be emphasized to complete the picture, necessarily limited by Moustakas' perspective); but it remains true that the actual experiencing of our unique worth is our own act, one which inevitably isolates us even from the lover who stands outside en-couraging us to seize our own goodness and value, to create our true self: In actualizing one's self, one's aspirations, ideals, and inter-ests, it is often necessary to retreat from the world. One must have strength enough to withstand the temptations which arise when one is completely alone. This does not mean becoming uprooted or alienated. It means accej~ting the existential na-ture of man's loneliness and seeing Its value in the creation of being, in the emergence of self-identity, and in a more fundamental, genuine life. Cast in this light, loneliness be-comes an illuminating experience and it leads to greater heights (p. 50). The Christian should be the first to recognize the deep truth in this phenomenological description. Is it not simply another of the myriad rich forms in which the paschal mystery presents itself? All genuine life is life-through-death. In proclaiming His way Christ was also disclosing the inmost law of human life. The freedom of vocation is not the freedom to evade this law, but the freedom to choose where we will experience it. We may be alone within a religious group or alone alongside a marriage partner or simply alone in the midst of the human crowd. But alone we shall be. Whether this death of aloneness becomes the resurrec-tion of love and relationship is the real issue. That will depend in any case on our willingness to accept the loneliness and in the acceptance to be raised beyond ourselves: Loneliness is as much a reality of life as night and rain and thunder, and it can be lived creativ~ely, as any other experience. So I say, let there be loneliness, for where there is loneliness there is also sensitivity, and where there is sensitivity, there is awareness and recognition and promise. Being lonely and being relatedare dimensions of an organic whole, both necessary to the growth of individuality and to the deepening value and enrichment of friendship. Let there be loneliness, for where there is loneliness, there also is love, and where there is suffering, there also is joy (p. 103). We all need acceptance and warmth and intimacy. Our religious group should at least make it possible for us to achieve it or else it is not a community at all, much less a Christian one. But the group can no more supply for the painful task of passing through the loneliness of self-acceptance, which is the price of self-transcendence, than could any marriage partner. That cup, and that privilege, is ours. Except that by an awesome mystery Christ has also made it His. + 4- 4- VOLUME 29, 1970 ]5 GERALD~A. McCOOL, S.J. Commitment to One's Institute: A Contemporary Q estion Gerald McCool, S.J., is visiting asso-ciate professor of philosophy at Bos-ton College; Chest-nut Hill, Massa-cusetts 02167. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 16 The* question whether his institute as it concretely exists retains its right to bind his conscience is no longer a rhetorical one in the mind of many a religious subject. Directors of conscience who have been con-fronted with this question by religious of diverse ages in many different congregations are aware of this fact. They are also aware of their own increasing difficulty in finding satisfactory answers to the problems posed to them by religious concerning the nature, extent, and duration of the commitment to a concrete religious institute which even perpetual vows entail today. The origin of these problems is in part sociological. In-stitutes have changed radically in the past few years, and the rate of change has been uneven. Different groups in the same congregation look on the Church, the world, and religious institutes quite differently and entertain what seem at times irreconcilably diverse hopes for their future. Communal agreement is hard come by, and the unity in life and work which in the past contributed to a religious' sense of peace and se-curity no longer manifests itself on the empirical level. Naturally directors of conscience are not ignorant of the efforts being made by almost every institute to reach agreement on their basic religious and apostolic goals. They have learned during the past few years the im- * This article is a revision of a paper presented at the Seventh Biennial Institute in Pastoral Psychology, held at Fordham Uni-versity, June 16-20, 1969. In its present form it is focused more sharply on the current problem of commitment to one's own institute. The original paper, entitled "The Conscience of the Religious Subject," will appear in the forthcoming volume, Con-science: Its Freedom and Limitations ed. William G. Bier, S.J. (New York: Fordham University, 1970). portance of urging patience and charity on religious of all ages and persuasions. As defection rates increase, however, and morale problems become more grave, even in institutes which are going through the process of renewal, directors are becoming painfully conscious that much more is needed than exhortations to faith and supernatural hope in the future. Too many religious are beginning to question the assumption which under-lies such exhortations--the connection between God's personal call to them and their commitment to their institute. A genuine doubt 'is ~growing in their mind as to whether total commitment to their institute in the traditional sense is the more perfect form of Christian life today. Some may ask indeed whether the form of life led in their institute as it is, or promises to be in the immediate future, represents a truly moral way of living. These questions, of course, have been raised in the past. They recur at every period of trouble, re-newal, and reform in the Church and in religious life.1 That they should recur again today is in itself a cause for neither surprise nor disturbance. What is troubling, however, is the discovery on the part of religious and their directors that trenchant answers to them are so difficult to find. The New Situation in Religious Lile This inability to find a clear and persuasive answer to the contemporary difficulties concerning a religious' commitment to his institute does not come from simple failure of nerve, unimaginitive rigidity, or impatience at the rate of change, although these factors are opera-tive in the present crisis in religious life. It is rather the resultant vector of two forces whose interplay has still to be examined with sufficient care and penetra-tion: (1) the effect of institutional change on a subject's commitment to his institute in a period of open ended ecclesial evolution and (2) the powerful impact upon religious life of the theological pluralism which now exists, and will in all likelihood continue to exist, within the contemporary Church. The interplay of these two forces has created a new situation in religious life in which it is no longer possible for the individual re-ligious subject or his director to determine the nature, value, and obligation of his commitment to his in-stitute and to his fellow religious through a simple x St. Thomas replied to d~fficulties of this sort in his Summa contra Gentiles, III, 130-8. Suarez produced a similar defense at the time of the Counter-Reformation; see William Humphrey, Fran-cisco Suarez: The Religious State. A Digest o] the Doctrine Con-tained in His Treatise "De statu religionis'" (London: Burns and Oates, 1884). Commitment VOLUME 29, 1970 ]7 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18 application to his individual situation of the theology of the religious life which carried religious safely through the early years of the post-Vatican renewal.2 The existential development of religious life and the rapid evolution of theology have confronted the individual religious with a problem of conscience with which they cannot cope alone. The individual religious and his director require the aid of theologians and the help of their own institutes. And they will receive that help only if firstly institutes and theologians together accept the fact that the early post-Vatican period is over and that a new religious and theological situation is in existence now, and if secondly the institutes, with the careful help of theologians, make clear and definite decisions about their life and work based on an in-telligent commitment to a theology of the religious life which they accept. In the early years of post-Vatican renewal, the director of conscience found in the post-conciliar theology of the religious life a clear grounding of the supernatural value of the life of the counsels and an exposition of the relation of institutional structure to personal vocation. With their help he was able to work out a ~ For the influence of process thought on Catholic philosophy, see Leslie Dewart, The Future o] Belie] (New York: Herder and Herder, 1966) and the stimulating and provocative article of Eugene Fonti-helle, "Religious Truth in a Relational and Processive World," Cross Currents, v. 18 (1967), pp. 283-315. Its influence upon highly respected theologians can be seen in three important articles which appeared recently: Wilhelm Kasper, "Geschichtlichkeit der Dogmen," Stimmen tier Zeit, v. 179 (1967), pp. 401-16; Avery Dulles, "Dogma as an Ecumenical Problem," Theological Studies, v. 29 (1968), 397- 416; and George Vass, "On the Historical Structure of Christian Truth," Heythrop Journal, v. 9 (1968). For the newer approach in moral theology which will affect religious life, see George Curran, Christian Morality Today (Notre Dame: Fides, 1966) and Absolutes in Moral Theology (Washington: Corpus Books, 1968). The Catholic theologian whose name is closely associated with the new theology of hope, esehatology, and earthly realities strongly influenced by the independent Marxist philosopher, Ernst Bloch, is Johannes B. Metz; see his Theology o] the World (New York: Herder and Her-der, 1967). These books and articles are simply a random sample of recent publications by serious and influential writers. There is no doubt that we are in a period of rapid and profound theological development. We must realize, however, that the process epistemol-ogy and metaphysics which are winning increasing favor with serious Catholic theologians does not simply call into question the philosophical grounding of the traditional Christian wisdom spir-ituality associated with the names of Augustine, Bonaventure, and Thomas, which underlies so many classics of the spiritual life; it also challenges the epistemological and metaphysical foundations of some of the most influential post-Vatican theology of the religious life, notably that of Karl Rahner. Ignorance of ~his fact can cause woe to an unwary retreat director, especially in communities of younger religious. It can also be a source of trouble for congrega-tions which are rewriting their constitutions. satisfactory understanding of the mutual obligations of subject and institute with which he could handle per-sonal problems of commitment in congregations as they then existed. This theology also enabled him to cope with the personal problems of the early post-conciliar years when many congregations dragged their feet in implementing the Vatican II reforms. It proved a rea-sonably satisfactory instrument for solving the prob-lems of individual religious in the later and more dif-ficult period of communal involvement in renewal in which community division with its consequent fear and hostility became a problem for many institutes. If we simply review the history of those stages in the evolution of religious life we may be able to see why the re-ligious and his director were able to deal with the question of religious commitment as an individual prob-lem then and why it is that today they are no longer able to do so. Post-Vatican Theology: Nature and Value o] Reli-gious Life Post-conciliar theology defended the value of the counsels as an integral part of the Church's eschatologi-cal witness and indicated the role which religious in-stitutions play as visible signs of her holiness,s In doing so it clarified the reasons which justify the renunciation of fundamental human goods through the three vows. It also explained the ecdesial basis for the authorita-tive specification of the religious life in institutes in which a life of rule is lived under the direction of re-ligious superiors. Religious belong to what Karl Rahner has called the charismatic element in the Church. Their conviction that God has called them to follow Christ in the re-ligious life is based on a non-formal process of in-ference which Saint Ignatius has called the discern-ment of spirits. Their decision to follow the divine invitation is freely taken. "Its motive is growth in the service of God and their neighbor and in the intimate union with God which Christian writers from patristic times have called holiness. The renunciation of earthly goods which the vows entail is justified because it is the manifestation of the Church's eschatological faith and hope. Through this renunciation religious institutes give living public witness to the Church's certitude that life's significance does not rest exclusively on the encounter with God in the use of His creation but on the lived 8See Karl Rahner, Theological Investigations, v. 3 (Baltimore: Helicon), pp. 58-104 and SchriIten zur Theologie:. v. 7 (Einsiedeln: Benziger, 1966), pp. 404-79. See also Ladislas M. Orsy, Open to the Spirit (Washington: Corpus Books, 1968). ÷ ÷ ÷ Con~mltraent VOLUME 29, 1970 19 4, Gerald A. McCooi, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~0 hope of an encounter beyond the limits of space and time.4 A religious community in the visible Church is a response to a common charismatic call in which its members participate and which is the supernatural bond of their union. Since that call is given in the Church as a summons to give stable social witness to her holiness and hope, communal life of the counsels acquires visible form in the diverse religious institutes. Thus the interior charism unique to each institute finds the external expression through which it can be thema-tized and communicated; and the interior bond of charity which binds its members to God, to the Church, and to each other receives verbal expression in its con-stitutions.~ Consequently religious vows are not taken in vacuo. They are always taken in a specific institute whose constitutions thematize the charismatic vocation to which each religious commits himself. Through her approval of the constitutions the visible Church commits her-self to the religious as authentic witnesses of her life and hope. On the basis of this theological justification of the nature and value of the religious life, the religious sub-ject at the beginning o[ the post-Vatican renewal was able to set down some general principles for the forma-tion o[ his conscience in relation to his commitment to his institute and to the legitimate demands on him which followed from it. (1) His decision to follow the religious life is morally justified through its public eschatological witness and through its service to God in the life of His Church. Its nature is distorted and its moral value compromised if it degenerates into an irresponsible flight from par-ticipation in the world through fear or dislike of God's creation. From the theology of the free person in the Church it follows that an individual call to manifest her sanctity through the public witness of the counsels should come in every generation to a number of generous Christians. Not only may Christians be religious, some of them should be. (2) Although the constitutions of a religious institute are not identified with its common charismatic call, its inner spirit, and its internal bond of charity, the con-stitutions cannot be separated from them either--a fact * Rahner, Schrilten, v. 7, pp. 404-34. r We notice here the strong similarity between the relation established by Rahner in his spiritual theology between institutional structure and charismatic call and the relation established by St. Ignatius between religious rule and the interior law of charity in the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus. which Saint Ignatius saw most dearly. The constitutions of an institute are not purely juridical regulations with little or no relation to its interior spirit. They are the medium through which the religious vows can specify and maintain a perduring commitment to a common way of life. Consequently, superiors, in fidelity to God and to the Church, have an obligation to see that they are observed. For, if a way of life is allowed to grow up within an institute which is at variance with the specific manifestation of the. Church's holiness which it has been called to manifest, that institute has lost the supernatural justification for its existence. Thus com-plete freedom to follow individual decisions cannot be permitted to a subject in a religious institute. A Christian called to religious life is called to accept a limitation on his freedom through obedience to his institute and its superiors. ($) Furthermore, since he shares in a common charismatic call which is incorporated in a specific in-stitute, indications of the divine will should ordinarily come to him through his institute and its superiors. Although there can be legitimate conflict at times, it is hard to reconcile a religious vocation with the convic-tion that the subject must make every important decision on his own responsibility and that the moral authority of a religious superior is restricted to his right to offer counsel. As one religious order recently expressed it: "A man who, time after time, is unable to obey with good consdence, should take thought regarding some other path of life in which he can serve God with greater tranquility." 6 The theology of the religious life which flourished after the Council not only gave the religious subject a dearer picture of the nature and value of the religious life than he had previously possessed; it also provided him with the principles through which a number of the problems arising from the conflict between obedi-ence and his moral conscience could find an answer. A proper understanding of the theology of the religious life made it clear not only that the constitutions of an insitute specified the obligation of the subject but that they also specified and restricted the legitimate authority of his superior. Superiors may rule only in accordance with the constitutions; and, in an institute whose reason for existence is to manifest the Church's sanctity and supernatural hope, they must rule religiously. Through his vows the subject has acquired a claim upon the conscience of his superior. For he has received a per-sonal call from God to a life of individual witness and Society of Jesus, Documents of the Thirty.First General Congre-gation (Woodstock, Md.: Woodstock College, 1967), p. 55. 4. Commitment VOLUME. 29, 1970 21 + 4. 4. Gerald A. McCool, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS service within a specific community. Not all of the de-mands which God makes on him can be determined by following uncritically in a quasi-automatic way the gen-eral orders of superiors. A number must be determined in-dividually by the discernment of spirits. Since the subject's vocation has been entrusted to his institute, he has the right to the personal direction and understanding of his superior in his efforts to discover God's personal will for him. The superior in turn has the inescapable obligation to provide it, and to provide it as a religious superior and not as the director of a secular enterprise. Further-more, a religious institute is a community of free in-dividuals within a visible Church to which they have a definite responsibility. God will inspire them through thoughts and desires to move their institute to greater service to His Mystical Body. As they are bound to communicate these thoughts and desires to their superiors, superiors, because of their responsibility to their institute and to the Church, are bound to listen to their subjects and to consult them individually and collectively. The "Relectant'" Stage oI Post-Vatican Renewal In the period immediately after Vatican II these principles were not the commonplaces they have long since become. Older religious can still recall the thrill of their discovery through personal reading or through the conferences of retreat masters. Government at that time often left much to be desired in many a religious institute. Superiors, who were at times quite ignorant of the theology of the religious life, ruled impersonally and on occasion gave the impression of a political mode of action which did not show the proper regard for the rights of the subject and the true interests of the universal Church. The problems of conscience which this mode of government created for intelligent, sensitive, and far-seeing religious are too well known to call for repetition here3 Nonetheless the informed religious subject or his di-rector felt that they could chart a reasonably clear course of action through which a subject could fulfill his personal call to genuine Christian life and activity in true commitment to his institute. Most of .the problems of that time, after all, were simply the result of a subject's living in an institute whose life and government were not in accord with the approved theology of the religious life. Subjects who were equipped to do so would work for the reform of their 7 For a well documented and frank account of these problems, see Robert W. Gleason, The Restless Religiou~ (Dayton: Pflaum, 1968). institutes through personal action. Others, while wait-ing [or the coming reform of their institute, could fre-quently solve their problems by using the principles of traditional moral theology concerning the reaction of a subject to an unjust command. Difficult as this period was psychologically, it was not a period in which the religious subject necessarily felt discouragement about the ability of the approved theology of the religious life to solve his present problems and bring about the eventual renewal of his institute. The Period o[ Rapid Evolution and Renewal After this initial period of hesitation and resistance, religious institutes entered into the general movement of renewal and reform to which each congregation was asked to contribute through a revision of its consti-tutions. As it proceeded, that task proved more diffi-cult than most religious anticipated that it would be. It was at that period that the beginnings of the present question of the commitment of the religious to his institute began to manifest itself. Once a movement of evolution and reform gets under way, commitment to the existing constitutions of an institute becomes provisional. It is---or was--assumed that in their re-vised form they will be a more exact expression of the present charismatic call which God is now addressing to the institute. Yet, since the constitutions specify the common commitment of the subjects to the insti-tute and to each other, their sudden mobility, after a long period of stability, has affected the bond of union in the evolving communities. Problems now arise in the conscience of the religious concerning his relation to his community and his fellow religious which were not there before. When the post-Vatican reform began it was rather generally agreed that the period of communal discern-ment of spirits would reach its consummation in a renewed institute to whose revised constitutions the individual subjects could commit themselves with peace of soul. But in a changing world and in a changing Church, who can say when the period of evolution will come to an even relative rest? And now that we are learning to think of God and His revelation in terms of process and event rather than of substance and stable judgment, can we any longer feel that stable constitu-tions are any longer desirable or even possible? Does not that make any set of constitutions provisory and relative? Furthermore, discernment of spirits is not an automatic process whose success is guaranteed. It is a delicate work of grace. Human resistance, weakness, and obtuseness can prevent it or delay it until the 4- VOLUME 29, 1970 4" "4" Gerald A. McCool, S.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS "~4 kairos, the providential time allowed by God, has passed. Religious, both subjects and superiors, who are con-cerned with changes in the life and work of their institute know very well that the movement of renewal, like every human movement, is not the outcome of a simple impulse of the Holy Spirit but the resultant vec-tor of multiple and complicated forces. Secular ideas and desires are in the heart of every man. Worldliness and spiritual blindness will make their contribution to the movement too. That is why the process is called the discernment of spirits, and that is why, like every discernment of spirits, it is a risky business. In the process of discernment of spirits whose term is still undefined, an ambiguous situation is created concerning the very nature of the life to which the mem-bers of the institute have given their vowed commit-ment. If the present constitutions are to undergo revision, perhaps indefinitely, what is the subject's com-mitment to them in their actual form? If the institute should take a wrong turn or miss its kairos, what will be his commitment to the constitutions in the future? It would appear that the religious subject is invited to enter upon an indefinite process of judging his institute in its fidelity to the call of grace and that his individual judgment will have a radical effect upon his commit-ment. It is not surprising, therefore, that uncertainty about their future commitment to their institute has begun to trouble the consciences of many religious and that divergent hopes and fears concerning the form of its future life and work make them perplexed over the attitude which they are called to take in relation to their superiors and fellow subjects. At a time when the future of his institute is undefined, when should a superior or a fellow subject be deferred to as a religious who is exercising under grace his authentic call as a prophetic leader and when must he be resolutely and uncompromisingly opposed as a traitor to the institute? In what does loyal commitment to one's institute con-sist at the present time? What is charity, and what is selfish cowardly silence for the sake of peace and per-sonal survival? These are the difficult questions which the director of conscience is asked to solve time after time. The task of aiding the religious subject to discern the movement of the Spirit from the distorting influences of human infidelity, complacency, and weakness has been complicated by the rapid evolution of theology in the post-conciliar Church. The theology of the Church, of revelation, of grace and nature, has been the subject of considerable, and sometimes turbulent, debate dur-ing the past few years. The consequence has been a renewed discussion concerning the nature of Christian holiness, the force and duration of the vows, and the value of the witness of the counsels in their tradi-tional institutional form. This lively discussion cannot fail to call into question the fundamental understand-ing of the religious life which is taken for granted by many sets of constitutions. More may be involved than simple adaptation and renewal. Perhaps radical and total revision may be called for in the light of a newer theological understanding of the religious life. Should that be the case, what then becomes the status of loyal commitment to the constitutions of one's holy founder? Nevertheless, working on the principles of classical post-Vatican theology, the director of conscience felt until fairly recently that he was in a position to guide a religious toward the solution of his problems about commitment to a divided and changing institute. Since the Church had invited religious institutes to reform their constitutions, it was a safe assumption that many of them were no longer adequate expressions of the community's charismatic call. Furthermore, since com-munal discussion on various levels was the recom-mended means, there were good prima facie grounds for the assumption that the interplay of different points of view would be the means employed by the Holy Spirit to manifest the form of life and work to which the institute should now commit itself. Classical post-Vati-can theology also gave the reason why this process could be expected to lead to radical changes in some insti-tutes, s The type of religious life suited to monastic-contemplative communities is very different from that demanded by an active-apostolic group. The order and form of life and prayer, the religious virtues re-quired of subjects, the relationship between subject and superior differ widely in these two types of institutes. In the past this essential difference was not sufficiently appreciated, and active congregations, especially of women, received a set of constitutions which were not suited to their active life. In such groups we could an-ticipate great changes. Likewise we would expect that at a period in which the secular institute is coming into its own some institutes or groups within existing institutes would be moved by the Holy Spirit to adopt this form of life for their active apostolate. Church historians during the post-Vatican period of renewal reminded religious and their directors that ~ Orsy, op. cit., pp. ÷ 4- 4. ¢o~t VOLUME 29, 1970 25 4. 4. Gerald A. McCool, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS movements of renewal and reform within religious groups were often the result of the work of charismatic leaders. And often the prophetic action of such leaders led to dissension and ultimate division in their own institutes. The work of the Spirit can be accomplished through bitter disagreement and ultimate division of groups which were once united. This was true of the divisions among the Franciscans and the Carmelites. It was true in the United States when the Paulists seceded from the Redemptorists to form a new congregation. On the basis of these historical and theological con-siderations, which are quite familiar to anyone who has even a general acquaintance with the post-conciliar literature, directors of conscience were able to derive a number of principles to handle problems of religious commitment in divided and evolving institutes. These prindples, which worked successfully and still retain a good deal of their validity, can be summed up as fol-lows. (I) Since it is not inconceivable that the interplay of conflicting hopes and fears which divide an institute may be destined by God to lead either to a painful but providentially destined division or to a dearer under-standing of the future form of life to which a united institute can commit itself, the individual religious sub-ject cannot deny in an a priori way that in the same congregation commitment to the institute and corre-spondence to their special grace may reveal itself in dif-ferent subjects through fundamentally different orienta-tions. Whatever may be the consequence which God ultimately intends, these diverse hopes and fears can be a faithful answer to a charismatic call which, for the moment, remains a common one. If they should lead to an ultimate division, the new institutes will be re-lated to each other through their origin in grace. They will be filial or sister institutes. (2) Therefore the individual religious subjects who find themselves in such an evolving situation are still united by the bond of fraternal charity and justice. Each is still called upon to contribute in the measure of his ability to the clarification of the future options which are emerging now. (3) Meanwhile the subject remains under the obedi-ence of the institute through whose constitutions his vocation is specified at the present time. Its rule, its superiors, and his fellow subjects retain the claim on him conceded to them by his vows. Since its mem-bers are being led to their future vocation through their present institute, ways of acting or of withdrawal from common activity which violate the justice and charity he owes them are not permitted to him. The New Situation in Religious LiIe Today, however, the director of conscience is begin-ning to wonder if it is safe for him to handle individual difficulties about religious commitment on the basis of these general principles. In the first place they are based on the theology of the religious life which is associated with the Constitution on the Church and the Decree on the Renewal o] the Religious Li]e for which he could once assume general acceptance among religious. In terms of that theology religious life is justified on the basis of its witness to the sanctity and eschatological hope of the visible Church. In the second place they rested on the assumption that unless there was striking evidence to the contrary each institute was passing through its providential kairos and was being led by God to its providential renewal or division. In the third place they took for granted that, unless clear evidence to the contrary existed, each religious could be assumed to have given a stable commitment to his institute and to his fellow religious, the nature and extent of which was given accurate expression through the constitutions. On the basis of that commitment, a supernatural bond existed among the members of the congregation. They were a family, a society within the Church with all the rights and expectations which membership within such a family entailed. It is becoming increasingly difficult for the religious subject or his director to make these assumptions as confidently as he did in the past; and if they cannot be made, the whole context within which problems dealing with religious commitment must be solved has been changed. There are many reasons for their present difficulty. To begin with, it is no secret that the movement of renewal is not going well. The defection figures are becoming alarming. Many religious, rightly or wrongly, seem to have reached the conclusion that in the movement of reform their institute has missed its kairos. Either it has failed to yield in time to the move-ment of the Spirit or it has yielded too much to the spirit of the world. In any event, these religious have decided that the form of life and work prescribed by their institute is no longer the way in which they can do the most for God. Other religious have withdrawn interiorly and made no secret of their withdrawal. Even though they remain within .the institute, they are alien-ated from it and leave their fellow religious uncertain about the depth, extent, and duration of their com-mitment to it. The longer the present unhappy stage of renewal continues with its increasing number of ÷ ÷ ÷ ~omm~ment VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ + 4. Gerald A. McCool, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS defections and interior withdrawals, the greater will be the uncertainty of the religious subject concerning the commitment of his fellow subjects and even of his su-periors. And, if he can no longer be certain that their actions are proceeding from commitment to the insti-tute. how should be behave toward them? Should he continue to deal with them in all simplicity as fellow religious? Or should he be prudent and follow the ordinary rules of political morality? Furthermore this disturbing ambiguity concerning his fellow religious' commitment to the institute does not come simply from ignorance of the judgment which they have made, perhaps definitively, about its [actual state. It also comes from uncertainty about the norm which they are using to measure its spiritual health and prospects for the future. Increasing theological di-versity, legitimate enough and even necessary within the larger body of the Church, is beginning to lead to di-versity among the members of the same institute con-cerning the nature and end of the religious life, the virtues which should characterize religious, the hope to which they witness, and the extent and duration of the commitment which they make to the community and consequently to each other through the three vows. That such diversity exists today among the mem-bers of religious groups is clear enough to anyone who has been engaged in the work of religious renewal. Often it lies beneath the surface, dividing religious who are not yet fully conscious of the depth and extent of their division. It shows itself, however, in retreats, in discussions, and in reflections about the formation of religious when different conclusions flow from dif-fering presuppositions which should be analyzed and clarified. Consequently, for many a religious subject his in-stitute has become a very unstable community. He has the uneasy feeling that its constitutions in their present form, even after their revision, and the style of life and work which its superiors prescribe or permit, through uncertainty, expediency, or a genuine desire to "paper over differences" for the sake of peace, no longer ac-curately express the nature, extent, and duration of the commitment which many of his fellow religious are making in reality to his institute in its actual, concrete form. Yet the commitment of his fellow religious creates the bond which makes the institute a living reality. Its duration makes the community a stable family; the depth, extent, and primacy which it occupies in a religious' life determines the depth and breadth of his association with his community and the priority which that association holds among the other commitments, professional and social, in his life. A notable change in the commitment of a significant number of individ-ual religious cannot fail to modify the nature of their institute. Thus, after a certain limit, ambiguity about the object, depth, and duration of its subjects' present commitment places the real nature of their institute in doubt. This doubt in turn creates a second doubt in the mind of the individual subject about his own obli-gation to the organization as it presently exists in the real order, and this doubt cannot fail to afl~ect his own commitment. Obviously this is an escalating process which, ultimately, can lead to a major change in an institute or even to its destruction. This agonizing doubt about the real nature of his institute today as a result of the change in the commit-ment of his fellow religious is the new problem of commitment which is troubling the peace and under-mining the vocation of many religious who weathered the storms of the earlier periods of renewal quite success-fully. This time, however, neither he nor his director can solve the problem by themselves with the resources which they now possess. The nub of the problem is a doubt which the religious cannot resolve himself. Since he cannot read hearts, he must be able to as-sume with reasonable probability that the vows as they are specified in his institute accurately express a genuine and stable union of minds and wills among its subjects. If he cannot make that assumption, he does not know what it is to which he has pledged him-self through his commitment to his community. Neither does he know what communal support, natural and supernatural, he may expect in return. Need to Eliminate Ambiguity To eliminate this ambiguity, or at least to reduce it to the proportions which are compatible with the existence of a viable religious community, existing in-stitutes, especially the larger ones, will have to confront more clearly, and perhaps more courageously than they have done so far, its two major sources: the uncertain relation between their constitutions and the genuine commitment of their subjects and the unanalyzed re-lation between their constitutions and the theology of the religious life on which they rest. Some institutes will be asked to examine more honestly their present state. Does their religious life as it is actually lived conform to the ideal which their institute proclaims? Prolonged compromise and delay of genuine renewal, even for apostolic and economic reasons, inevitably lead to ambiguity concerning the real commitment re-quired of a subject in the institute and can easily lead 4- 4- 4" Commitment VOLUME 29, 1970 29 4. 4. 4. Gerald A. McCool, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS today to discouraged alienation among the young and generous. Other communities are being asked to ex-amine more carefully whether they are called to lead a contemplative or active-apostolic life. Although they are different vocations, both are viable. Is it not possible that in some institutes a division into separate groups following each of these vocations might be a healthy, and perhaps a necessary thing?9 Theological Pluralism and the Constitutions Because of the increasing theological diversity which is already affecting the Church of the present and which will mark the Church of the future even more pro-foundly, it will be necessary for each institute to clarify the theological suppositions which justify its basic choice of life and work. The development of philosophy and theology within the Church, the ihfluence of process philosophy and theology upon Catholic understanding of ecclesiastical structures and the formulation of doctrine, the impact of a newer understanding of the relation of grace and nature, of eschatology and earthly values upon Catholic understanding of the spiritual life have had their effect on religious' attitudes toward prayer, penance, action, contemplation, and service of the Church. That there is a diversity on many of these topics and that such diversity will continue is a fact that we must accept. That there will be and should be a much greater range of free opinions in the Church of the future is a position which most theologians accept today. And if such diversity means, as it seems it does, diverse understandings of the nature and value of re-ligious life, this is a fact which we must accept and whose implications we must analyze. When diverse theological opinions become free in the Church the right to live one's life in the light of them must be respected. If they are solid enough to base the commitment of a total life, the legitimacy of a religious institute based on them can hardly be denied. If, on the other hand, the solidity of opposed theological opinions remains strong enough to ground the commitment of a total Christian life, the legiti-macy of a religious institute grounded on them cannot be questioned either. Thus we may find in all likeli-hood that there will be in the Catholic Church re-ligious living accordingly to theologically diverse under-standings of the religious life. What would not make sense, however, is that they should be endeavoring to do so in the same institute. For it is difficult to under-o For a provocative discussion of this point, see Felix Cardegna, "Future Forms of Religious Life," Catholic Mind, v. 66, (1968), pp. 9-13. stand how constitutions embodying one fundamental conception of the religious life could thematize a com-mitment to an opposed one. Such constitutions would be simply a juridical form concealing basic differences. They could not be the vital expression of communal witness and spiritual unity. Consequently religious congregations, especially the larger ones which have the resources to do so, must examine very soon the theological presuppositions which lie at the basis of their constitutions. Do their con-stitutions express a conception of the religious life which is still viable and to which they wish to give the witness of their lives? I[ not, then they must change the constitutions, even though they express the dearest thought of the holy founder. If so, then they must spell out their fundamental theological position.s, even though there may be other opposed positions which are now free within the Church. If this is done, the individual subject will have a chance to see what it is to which the institute commits itself and to judge whether or not he wishes to make the same commitment. Retreat directors will have a better chance to help individual religious in their endeavor to find the will of God and novice masters will be in a better position to give solid answers to the reasonable questions of the young. This will not be an easy task. It will take openness, skill, and the employment of the best theological talent which a congregation has at its disposal. Its urgency, however, is becoming more apparent every day and we may anticipate that before long the general chapters and congregations of the larger congregations will be obliged to address themselves to it. 4. 4. 4. VOLUME 29, 1970 SISTER M. TERESANTA RYS, C.S.F.N Recreation, and Relaxation in Religious Life ÷ ÷ Sister Teresanta writes from Marian Heights; 1428 Mon-roe Turnpike; Mon-roe, Connecticut 06468. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The Psalmist says: "Have leisure and know that I am God" (Ps 46:10). Recreation and relaxation presuppose leisure time. The term leisure will be used repeatedly in this paper and hence must be defined. The concept of leisure cannot be expressed in simple synonymous terms. To do so would be to risk misinterpretation. The explanation of the con-cept will form the introduction to this paper. Leisure, it must be clearly understood, is a mental and spiritual attitude--it is not simply the result of external fac-tors, it is not the inevitable result of spare time, a holiday, a weekend, or a vacation. It is, in the first place, an attitude of the mind, a condition of the soul, and as such is utterly contrary to the ideal of "worker" in each and every one of the three as-pects under which it was analysed: work as activity, as toil, as a social function. Leisure is a form of silence, of that silence which is a pre-requisite to the apprehension of reality: only the silent hear, and those who do not remain silent do not hear.leisure is a receptive attitude of mind, a contemplative attitude, and it is not only the occasion but also the capacity for steeping one-sell in the whole of creation. - Leisure is not the attitude o[ mind o[ those who actively intervene, but o[ those who are open to everything? From the outset it can be seen that leisure is meant to lead us to God. This is not to imply that time, activities, and negative aspects as off-duty time and non-work activi-ties are not related to leisure.2 But these are not of its essence. Regarding the elements of time and activity, ". 1Josef Pieper, Leisure the Basis ol C, ulture, trans, by Alexander Dru (New York: New American Library, 1963), pp. 40-1. a See Roll B. Meyersohn, "Americans Off Duty," in Free Time: Challenge o] Later Maturity, ed. Wilma Donahue and others (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan, 1958), pp. 45-6. leisure is unobligated time which can be spent in any way one wishes. It is supposed to be refreshing, diverting, and enriching, and what set of activities provides for such qualities is to be a matter of personal taste." s Philosophers, spiritual writers, and psychologists throughout the ages have acknowledged the predomi-nance of the divine motive in leisure, but at the same time they have emphasized the physical benefits as well. Plato, for instance, says: But the Gods, taking pity on mankind, born to work, laid down the succession of recurring feasts to restore them from their fatigue, and gave them the Muses, and Apollo their leader, and Dionysus, as companions in their feasts, so that nourish-ing themselves in festive companionship with the Gods, they should again stand upright an~erect.' One author paraphrased Thomas Aquinas' position on leisure by stating that the man who reasons and contem-plates "must occasionally relax the tension of reason by resting the soul. This rest of the soul is a form of pleasure.''5 Currently, Father Kevin O'Rourke, O.P., notes that man is a composite being--body, soul, mind, emotions. These work as a unity. Just as a body has need of refreshment, the emotions and mind need it, too. This refreshment they get from recreation.6 Because the world in which we live places so much value on work and activity, many persons, including religious, determine the worth of an individual by how much and how well she produces. Whatever is done must have a utilitarian purpose or it is worthless. The individual be-comes a functionary. This, in spite of the fact expressed by Alexander Reid Martin: So the poets and philosophers for thousands of years have agreed upon the supreme importance of leisure. But modern man apparently cannot avail himself of this blessing. With more leisure time available, there is a lessening capacity to en-joy it and to use it creatively and constructively. Modern man finds that he cannot relax to order.7 As religious who are pressed for time, zealous to do all we can to further God's glory through our various apostolates, we must beware of the fallacy of overwork. Throughout the Christian centuries we have become imbued with the idea that work is noble and good, and that it is through work that we will help achieve our sal-vation. Many of us have, as stated, accepted the fallacy of 8 Ibid., p. 48. ' Plato as cited by Pieper, Leisure, p. 19. ~ e Father Emmanuel, O.C.D., "The Need of Relaxation," Spiritual LiIe, v. 7 (1961), p. 222. ~ See Kevin O'Rourke, O.P., "Recreation in the Religious Life," Acta Records (Chicago: Acta Foundation, 1964). 7Alexander R. Martin, "The Fear of Relaxation and Leisure," American Journal o] Psychoanalysis, v. I1 (1951), p. 45. 4" VOLUME 29, 1970 + + 4. Siste~ Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the worth of an individual based on her ability to work. We have allowed ourselves to believe that unless we are occupied, we are wasting our time, we are allowing our-selves to be idle, and idleness is a breeding ground for the devil's wiles. Even our recreations have taken on a functionary air--the knitting to be done, the stockings to be darned, the papers to be corrected--all, so that we wouldn't waste timel Sixty years ago, Bishop John L. Spalding noted: We are too busy, we do too much. And the temper our rest-less activity creates makes us incapable of leisure, which is the end of work. The man is worth, not what his work is worth, but what his leisure is worth. By his work he gains a livelihood, but his leisure is given him that he may learn how to live, that he may acquire a taste for the best things, may acquaint himself with what is truest and most beautiful in literature and art, in science and religion, may find himself, not chiefly in the nar-row circles of his private interests, but in the wide world of noble thought and generous emotion? (emphasis added) There are some people who feel that leisure must be justified, for example, we relax or take recreation in order to work more efficiently or in order to restore our strength and energy. This is to revert to pragmatism. Joseph Pieper, a philosopher of our day, notes that how-ever much a person may restore health and energy through leisure, this is not primary, because leisure, like contem-plation, is of a higher order than the active life, and this order cannot be reversed. No one who looks to leisure simply to restore physical, mental, or spiritual powers, will ever enjoy the real fruits of it. He states: The point and justification of leisure are not that the func-tionary should function faultlessly and without a breakdown, but that the functionary should continue to be a man --and that means that-he should not be absorbed in the clear-cut milieu of his strictly limited function; the point is also that he should retain the faculty of grasping the world as a whole and realizing his full potentialities as an entity meant to reach wholeness? The philosopher elaborates this point and states that celebration is the soul of leisure and that since it is so, the justification and possibility of leisure is the same as that of celebration of a festival--and that basis is divine worship.1° The history of religions concurs in this judge-ment: whether in the days of Greece and Rome or in the Christian era, the "day of rest" was a day reserved for divine worship. This time was withdrawn from any specif-ically utilitarian ends: Separated from the sphere of divine worship, the cult o| the s Bishop John L. Spalding, "Work and Leisure," Spiritual Lile, v. 10 (1964), p. 78. ~ Pieper, Leisure, p. 44. lo See ibid., p. 56. divine, and from the power it radiates, leisure is as impossible as the celebration of a feast. Cut off from the worship of the divine, leisure becomes laziness and work inhuman. The vacancy left by absence of worship is filled by mere kill-ing of time and by boredom, which is related to inability to enjoy leisure; for one can only be bored if the spiritual power to be leisurely has been lost.~ Fear of Relaxation Before proceeding to the practical application of the above stated principles, it may be well to examine more specifically why religious tend to have what amounts to a fear of relaxation and recreation, why they tend to be so utilitarian in their outlooks. Many pre-Vatican II constitutions, in the chapters deal-ing with recreation, did stress the importance of partici-pation. Many encouraged religious to occupy themselves with handiwork, which supposedly gave them a sense of satisfaction in contributing to the common good even dur-ing hours of recreation (as though their conversations, their interest in fellow religious were not a form of contributing to the common good). One may ask how a person could give undivided attention to another when she was busy darning or embroidering? Father Kevin O'Rourke notes that individual religious must contrib-ute to community recreation--it is a time of giving our-selves to others and hence an obligation in charity,x2 Although the Vatican Council did not say a great deal about the recreation of religious as such, it did note in the Decree on the Ministry and Life o[ Priests that they should "readily and joyfully gather together for recreation." 13 And Pope Paul, in Ecctesiae sanctae, ex-plaining Per[ectae caritatis, notes that with regard to the order of the day: "Religious. should also have some periods to themselves and be able to enjoy suitable recrea-tion." 14 Nevertheless, it must be admitted that our novitiate training, the customs of communities, and the consti-tutions have taken their toll regarding attitudes toward recreation and relaxation. Because of these influences, many religious experience guilt feelings regarding the use of leisure: When we are not busy, we feel guilty. We are torn between hours spent efficiently organizing our lives and the minutes we set aside to waste. For many regard recreation as a waste of time ÷ and have devised ways of relaxing while washing the car or en- + 4. u Ibid., p. 59. ~ O'Rourke, "Recreation." ~ Walter M. Abbott, S.J., ed., The Documents o! Fatican H (New York: Guild Press, 1966), p. 551. "Paul VI, ~tpostolic Letter Ecclesiae Sanctae (Boston: Daughters of St. Paul, 1966), p. 34. Leisure VOLUME 2% 1~70 35 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS gaging in strenuous exercise. Indeed we are still men who lead lives of quiet desperation. Perhaps I should feel guilty not because I have done too little but because I have tried to do too much. Unlike the poet, I have been so busy that I have lost my playful sense of wonder. I have forgotten to accept myself as I am and have been driven to exhaustion by futile strivings to be someone else. That is why I cannotpray, forprayer involves, a turning of my whole being toward the Lord~(emphas|s added). Some people can rest and relax on holidays and during rest periods set aside for this purpose, only when they are told to do so. They cannot permit themselves to stop, bu~ rely 'on outside authority--they are victims of a com-pulsive, authoritative regime, which can be either inner or outer or both. "In any case, a system of bargaining develops. Work and play become part of a reward and punishment philosophy. Rest is something that has to be earned. All of this smacks of a philosophy dominated by a God of vengeance Of the Old Testament and not of the God of mercy of the New Testament." 10 Some individuals relax only when they have some physical illness, because then they feel justified. The problem of retirement is closely allied to this. Some persons refuse to give up, because they feel they are letting the community down. When they are all but forced to retire, there may follow a rapid disintegration of the whole personality--organic, emotional, intellectual, and moral, because the person's phil6sophy of life prohibited true, healthy relaxation and the creative use of leisure time.17 To return to generalities, there always exists the dan-ger of allowing the sister's work to dominate her life; this isespecially true when she likes the work she is engaged in. Everything is controlled by the task to be performed--even when she recreates, she does so in order to function more effectively, and recreation otherwise becomes meaningless (as does prayer, incidentally). Be-fore long, her specialty pervades every aspect of her life, and she becomes enslaved to one view. Such a sister must take care to place work in its prdper perspective in the totality of her religious life. Work may lead us to God, but it may also distract us from Him. To maintain this proper perspective, prayer and meditation are essential,is Those who tend to be busybodies would also do well to recall a study made by E. D. Hutchinson on the bio-graphical data of many creative minds--poets, authors, composers, and so forth. He found . that the experience of sudden creative insight never oc- ~Envoy, v. 5 (1968), pp. 114-5. Martin, Fear of Relaxation, pp. 43-4. See ibid., p. 44. Envoy, v. 5 (1968), pp. 116-7. curred during the peak of mental effort, but always during a period of relaxation . in general, Hutchinson f,o, und that following a long period of what he calls "obsessional preoccu-pation with a problem, during which nothing was accomplished and there was considerable frustration, the creative thinker relinquished the problem completely. After he had relinquished this compulsive preoccupation for a period of weeks or months, the whole answer would come to him out of the blue. Hutch-inson calls this period of relaxation the period of renunciation of the problem.~ Scripture supports this contention: "The wisdom of the scribe cometh by his time of leisure; and he that is less in action, shall receive wisdom" (Sir 38:25). The pejorative significance of the inability to be leisurely and to relax is also impressed on the person's inability to rest, even in sleep. Some people feel they always have full command of their senses, which causes tension. When sleep is related to this compulsive feeling of having to be alert, it surely cannot be a means of re-laxation. It may also be pointed out that the fear of relaxation is typical of people who are unwilling to depend on others for anything--their independence becomes compulsive, and it is sometimes paraded as the virtue of self-reliance or .individuality. Such compulsive independence is indi-cative of self-distrust, actually, and of the inability to truly relax because of the imminence of intense emo-tional conflicts,a0 Those who feel that they must always be busy in some "useful" activity are the ones who subscribe to the idea expressed in the saying: "Satan finds mischief for idle hands to do." The idea of keeping busy to keep out of trouble expresses it similarly. This attitude shows itself in the person's inability to play and to ~,ork in a leisurely way. Again, those who are dependent upon a fixed routine or schedule indicate the presence of internal conflicts. The routine is self-imposed and they either comply or defy it, but they are not free. Hence, they. are unable to truly relax and use leisure time creatively. To them, leisure is always freedom [torn something, not freedom [or something.21 Such persons put themselves into straigh~ jackets and do not want to be free, to act on their own, because in doing so, they set inner conflicts into motion. Leisureliness in Work Binding ourselves to work is binding ourselves to a utilitarian process in which our needs are satisfied. Our whole lives are consumed by this process. We must ask ~Martin, Fear o[ Relaxation, p. 44. ~See ibid., p. 46. ~See ibid., p. 48. 4. + 4. Leisure VOLUME 29, 1970 + 4. 4. Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~8 and answer the question: What causes a person to be so bound, and how can she free herself? Joseph Pieper an-swers: . to be tied to the process of work may be ultimately due to inner impoverishment of the individual: in this context everyone whose life is completely filled by his work (in the special sense of the word work) is a proletarian because his life has shrunk inwardly, and contracted, with the result that he can no longer act significantly outside his work and perhaps can no longer conceive of such a thing~ (emphasis added). And now, what can be done about the problem? Much, of course, depends upon the willingness of the individual to admit to herself that she is so addicted, to whatever de-gree. Without this admission, there can be no cure. Once this is made, the individual must enlarge the range of interests she has. She must learn to make leisureliness a part of her life and not limit herself only to work-related interests. But "the provision for an external opportunity for leisure is not enough; it can only be fruitful if the man himself is capable of leisure, and can, as we say, 'Occupy his leisure' or. 'work his leisure'." ua Of course, it does little good to tell a person, or for a person to tell herself, that she must not have guilt feelings or fear of relaxation. There must take place concrete efforts at relaxation and recreation--the way to develop a sense of leisure is to be leisurely. Initially, the guilt feelings will remain and may, indeed, occasion more guilt and fear. But it is only in repeated efforts and with the encouragement of someone who appreciates the value of recreation ". that I can hopefully come to appreciate the need for worthwhile recreation to sustain the religious values upon which I have grounded my life." ~4 When one is able to recreate well, one is able to pray and work well. A well-balanced, mature personality will be the conse-quence. Finally, "when the individual is able to say and to feel that convention, schedule or routine is his slave, then the compulsive needs to defy, comply, or rebel do not arise, and healthy relaxation and leisure become possible." :5 Prayer and Education Throughout this paper thus far, it has been stated that leisure is a spiritual attitude, that leisure is of a higher sphere than activity, that leisure is justified by divine worship, and that prayer is necessary to maintain a proper balance between work and leisure. It would seem from this that leisure is closely related to our prayer life. Per- Pieper, Leisure, pp. 50-1. Ibid., pp. 54-5. Envoy, v. 5 (1968), pp. 117. Martin, Fear o/Relaxation, p. 48. haps as religious we ought to delve more deeply into this aspect of leisure. "Prayer requires leisure, and it ought to become our leisure." ~0 Again, this presupposes that we know what leisure is. Here especially we should note that neither prayer nor leisure are utilitarian. Both prayer and leisure are those times when we need not try, but simply be hu-man, as perfectly human as possible.27 During these times we can simply be ourselves, and not be striving to be someone else, or to be striving to measure up to some goal. Forcing artificial prayers into our minds is not praying in a leisurely way. We must learn to allow the Holy Spirit to pray in us as He wills. Prayer affords us with the opportunity to get rid of preoccupations. Simply going over the day or some plans, while keeping in mind that these are for the Lord, consti-tutes prayer, and is an excellent means of banishing pre-occupations. Preoccupation with work, recall, leads to compulsive action and an inability to be leisurely; by the same token, it leads to an inability to pray: "Activism and its roots are as much in a lack of leisure as a lack of prayer." ~s Accepting prayer as leisure will help us to relieve our daily tensions; but this can be only if we do not regard leisure and prayer as a duty or as a means of relieving ten-sion. By just praying or recreating, we ease tension. And, of course, this will redound to the benefit of the commu-nity in which we live. Carrying the idea of prayer as leisure a step further, we can see a relationship between a Mass and a commu-nity recreation well celebrated. For in the Mass there is a dialogue between God and His people. There is commu-nication. Now, recreation to be really recreative must involve communication, too: "It is not stretching a point to see community recreation as the extension and fruit of the festive dialogue of the Mass; in itself it has something of the nature of a ritual and might indeed be considered a sacramental for community." .oa So, if we personalize the community recreation, if we "celebrate" it in a leisurely way, we are preparing ourselves for a personalized celebra-tion of Mass. It was noted that the task of education is to help in-dividuals to an awareness and appreciation of what is best in our culture, because in doing so, we are aiding them in acting more perfectly human. Some authors question -~ David B. Burrell, C.S.C., "Prayer as Leisure," Sisters Today, v. 37 (1965-6), p. 410. ~See the re[erences first given in notes 1, 15, 26. = Burrell, "Prayer as Leisure," p. 413. n Aloysius Mehr, O.S.C., "Community Exercises in Religious Life," REvmw for RE~.lcloos, v. 21 (1962), p. 337. ÷ ÷ ÷ Leisure VOLUME 29, 1970 39 Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS whether we should classify any aspect of leisure, recre-ation, or relaxation as "better" or of a higher type. This is not intended. What is meant is simply that, because appreciating such things as art, music, drama, and litera-ture involves the use of our more perfect faculties, they are of a higher class than those involving the use of less perfect faculties. Nor is it intended to imply that either use of leisure time is to automatically be exclusive of the other at all times. Once. again, leisure time should be spent so as to add to one's total personality--but let us not forget that this includes, most importantly, our spiritual and intellectual stature: "Leisure time, profitably employed, should bring every Sister to a consciousness of the reality of God, whether it be through listening to beautiful music, look-ing at an art object, or reading a literary work that ex-plores the depths of the human heart." a0 The type of education that an individual receives will affect her attitudes toward leisure. Consequently, it ought to be our endeavor to give our Sisters a very liberal educa-tion, both formal and informal. Certainly, in today's world, we need specialists in the field of education. But those chosen as such must be careful lest their specialty become their all-consuming interest. And those not chosen to specialize in a given subject, must avoid the error of not being interested in a given field--be it music, art, literature, or whatever--because then they would fail to enrich themselves. Communities must be sure to provide sufficient opportunities for their members to develop their potentialities and interests, lest these be allowed to atrophy. If the sisters have sufficient leisure time and adequate opportunities, more of them should become more original and creative. They will con-seqfently become more perfectly developed as whole persons. The typ~ of education our sisters receive ".must offer them access to the wealth of thinking and specula-tion, to the arts and sciences, that lie at the basis of the best in our culture . The goal of education should not be so much to teach as to offer the opportunity to ex-perience growth of the total personality, including, of course, exercise of the mind and the aesthetic skills." 31 Only then can we justly expect them to make good use of their time, both on the job and off it. And we shall be acting to prevent many problems which inevitably arise =Sister Marian, I.H.M.~ "Leisure Time: A Spiritual Asset or Liability," REVIEW FOE KEL~CIOUS, V. 20 (1961), p. 365. =George Soule, "Free Time--Man's New Resource," in Free Time: Challenge to Later Maturity, pp. 75-6. in later years when persons have not learned how to act leisurely. We must be honest and admit that many sisters look upon leisure, recreation, and relaxation as an escape from.the toils of the day or from the monotonous exist-ence some may have to endure for various reasons. And so, it would seem, they quite naturally turn to the ever increasing viewing of television, listening to "light" music, or reading pseudosophisticated reading material found in some current magazines, all of which require little mental exertion. Education plays an important role in aiding sisters to become selective in the type of activi-ties chosen for use in their leisure. Otherwise, the sister ". will never become the educated, cultured woman her profession as educator on any academic level demands; much less will she furn out to be the mature religious woman who can say without any reservation, 'I live, yet it is not I who live, but Christ who lives in me'." as Some may object, stating that they have not been thus educated or trained. The community may then choose to conduct workshops for this purpose, using their own sisters whose profession has trained them to be knowledge-able in the various fine arts. Sisters themselves could con. verse with these professionals and learn to be selective. Not liking to read, listen to good music, or view art is not really reason enough not to engage in these activities. Sisters must learn that they can acquire a taste for them. Granted, this is not easy; it depends upon the willingness of the individual and her repeated efforts. The cultivation of an interest in the arts is as much her responsibility as the understanding and skill she is required to have in her profession. I[ there is a separation between the cultured professional and the zealous religious, the inevitable resuh is a divided personality.33 Finally: Religious women must be women of discernment. They must come to see and be convinced that compartmentalization of their minds interferes with their raison d'~tre--that of trans-forming themselves into souls owned by Christ and changed into Him. Their recognition of the genuine values inherent in the good use of leisure time, will, in reality, bring them closer and closer day by day to an adherence to the truth, and to the One who is Truth Itself.** Once again, this is not to imply that physical activities ÷ are never to be used, nor that leisure is not ever meant for ÷ simpler types of relaxation. These are needed, too, be-cause they fortify both mind and body by not making difficult demands on either. ILei~re, Sister Marian, "Leisure Time," p. 365. See ibid., pp. 370-1. Ibid. VOLUME 2% 1970 41 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Play Under the general heading of "play" we can develop many ideas. ]?or example, our work may become play-- when we aquire a relaxed attitude toward it as opposed to compulsive preoccupation: "Enjoyment comes from doing the best I can without the anxious feeling that I must do everything or be dubbed a failure. The fact that I reserve time for living the inactivity of recreation gives me the presence and peace of mind I need to respond fully to the moments." 36 The Sacred Scriptures have repeated incidents of play: God created the sea, with all its schools of fish and many ships, "to make sport of it" (Ps 103:25-6); exegetes of the Bible apply the passage from Proverbs 8:27-31 describing an observer of creation to Mary who "was delighted every day, playing before him at all times, playing in the world: and my delights were to be with the children of men"; and, of course, there is the famous incident of David playing and dancing before the ark of the covenant (1 Chr 15:29). Perhaps we should take the example, lest we take our work too seriously and it make us its slave and we become proud and self-sufficient. We must be serious about our work to a point--but, then, we must find enjoyment in it.3n Because play involves successes and failures, it helps a person to adjust to these in the more serious business of li[e. Because it teaches the person to "rub elbows" or socialize, play teaches teamplay: The experience and training received in good play are indis-pensable to the well-adjusted individual . Play is training in ajpplication and concentration, and it is training, in socializa-aon. ;. There is no better means o[ turning interest away from self and such unhealthy things as phantasy and self-centeredness toward the objective world of-things and people than absorption in play . Play. is an indispensable train-ing in the serious work oF lifeY The primitive drive of aggression in an individual adult is satisfied for a part in work and education. But not all excess energy and aggression can thus be diverted. Another outlet is found in play. Besides providing such an outlet, play teaches us to overcome dislikes and hatreds which may otherwise develop to unreasonableness. Unless excess aggresiveness and energy are released in some beneficial manner, it will produce mischief and mental illness.3S The discussion on play quite naturally brir~gs to mind a~Envoy, v. 5 (1968), pp. I13. so Mehr, "Community Exercises," p. 338. S~Arthur Timme, "The Significance of Play and Recreation in Civilized Life," Mental Hygiene, v. 18 (1934), p. 54. ~ See ibid., pp. 54-6. other, more active forms of recreation and relaxation. It should be understood that active leisure applies to all. Some would tend to limit it to chronologically young persons. Perhaps a bit of an explanation would be useful, especially when we recall that Alexander Reid Martin warned that unless a person learns to use leisure properly, she may experience a rapid disintegration of her person-ality once leisure is more or less forced upon her. Actually, it is unfair to label an individual by age, be-cause it deprives her of equality. Thus labeled, a sister is judged, not by her personal qualities or lack or them, but by what is expected of her because of her particular age. George H. Soule notes that no one has yet exactly pin-pointed the essence of aging, either physiologically or psychologically, but that most experts agree that the differences within an age group are far greater than differ-ences between age groups.3~ To be arbitrarily placed in a group often leads to a person's reacting as expected, and this in turn influences the deterioration spoken of, at whatever age level. Generally speaking, however, youth can and does find opportunities for recreation and relaxation. There re-mains the danger of being overzealous and overambitious and of acquiring a sense of responsibility that they must take on added burdens as the congregation's median age rises. Of this, the young must beware--they, too, must develop leisureliness, which will not allow them to be-come preoccupied in any endeavor. The ability to be leisurely and to be able to recreate ourselves should be grasped by middle age, because . by this time most of us have reached a plateau in our jobs or professions. This is not to suggest that, t~or the specially qualified or generally ambitious, there are not further peaks to be climbed. But for the generality of us, I think, we have probably attained the peak of our job or career, and it is time to relax. We can still do our da),'s work, honesdy and competently. But we can also start thinking of our souls. By thinking of our souls I am not speaking purely in a religious sense, though I would not for a moment discount the importance of that. I am thinking rather of a reexamination of ourselves as individuals and of our lives up to this pointwto what extent we have found meaning and to what extent we have failed to find meaning, and then to realize quite soberly that this comparative leisure we have earned may stretch on for us for perhaps another quarter of a century.'° Normally, because an individual has achieved her work goals by middle age, she also derives most satisfactions from it during these years. Thes~ satisfactions she usually shares with the community, and the community should be a~ Soule, "Free Time," p. 62. 4°Clark Tibbits, "Preface," in Free Time: Challenge to Later Maturity, pp. xi-xii. ÷ 4- 4- VOLUME 29, 1970 43 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS an in~entive for the individual to advance herself even more.41 But once again the sister should beware of be-coming too engrossed in her work and her own personal satisfactions, because this. will narrow her other interests. Then, when she later becomes less efficient and no longer gets such satisfactions, she will have little to go back on: "We are told that people stranded without interest goals, who seem to have no rationale of existence, often become frustrated and lapse into physical or mental illness." 42 This applies to any age group, but since satisfactions are greatest in middle age, perhaps this is the most dangerous age in regard to the fallacy of overwork and underplay. The so-called senior members of the community should not, by any means, be excluded from active leisure-time activities. It is most important that these sisters be kept active and creative, since their physical ability to work is limited, as is their sphere of interests. The community must make special provision for an organized leisure-time program for these members above all. It would be well if they had some professionally trained sisters to accomplish this. More and more colleges are providing courses in recreation leadership, because of the demand in society for such individuals. Surely, it would be to the community's advantage to have such trained personnel. These same sisters could conduct workshops for the local homes and offer suggestions as to how recreation periods could be more relaxing and more beneficial: "Sound rec-reation programs may promote good will, tolerance and understanding, and may improve societal relationships, all of which are significant to the maximum develgpment of personality." 4a Concerning the use of leisure time by all age groups, we find that all activities fall into one or more of the following categories: social and cultural advancement, creative expression, entertainment, recreation, personal development, fostering life, creative maintenance, and classification and ordering.44 These groups of activities bring about certain desired effects: diversion, which counters self-center~dness; expression, which reverses feel-ings of frustration; the struggle ]or survival, useful against regression; creativeness, a method of liberating thwarted instincts; membership, which combats feelings of iso-lation and lonesomeness; participation, to maintain a ,1 Nels Anderson, Work and Leisure (New York: Free Press, 1961), p. 180. '~ Ibid., p. 257. *a Raymond A. Snyder and Alexander Scott, Pro/essional Prepara-tion in Health, Physical Education, and Recreation (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1954), p. 5. ~See Maurice E. Linden, "Preparation for the Leisure of Later Maturity," in Free Time: Challenge to Later Maturity, p. 89. sense of self-esteem; social acceptableness, to help main-tain a good self-image; recognition, which counteracts embitterment; meaningfulness, to aid in establishing the true value of nature and life; contemplation, which con-tributes to effective judgmental functioning; sharing, to aid in improving a person's opinion of herself; and simple enjoyment of living.4~ The achievement of the above mentioned effects, certainly, will contribute to a more perfect personality. All of them result from the proper use of leisure activities. All o£ them can be achieved by any individual who de-sires to do so. But some may ask for more concrete exam-ples of how to acquire these abstract values. There are any number of ways, of course, and each way must be suited to the individual, who must consider her own physical and psychological needs. In selecting recrea-tional activities, the sister should always keep in mind that which will give her the most satisfaction at a given time. The activity in which she can best create, achieve, find beauty, fellowship, and relaxation, is of more lasting value than one which yields only one or two satisfac-tions. 46 Following is a list of activities which might be engaged in by sisters. The list is only suggestive, and not all-inclu-sive. It is offered merely to aid sisters in selecting activi-ties to make their leisure time more profitable. Active games and sports: Dodge bail, relays, softball, basketball, bowling, volleyball, rope jumping, bicycle riding, swimming, ice skating, and calisthenics. Social activities: Card games, barbecues, parties for special occasions, puzzles, dancing, and various table games (scrabble, parchesi, monopoly). Music: A cappella choirs, action songs, community singing, instrument playing, composing music, listening groups, music appreciation courses, music study groups, and music instruction. Arts and crafts: Drawing, carving of various kinds (soap, wood, and so forth), needlework, painting, paper craft, and sewing. Drama: Theatre attendance, charades, choral speech, creative dramatization, and song impersonations. Nature and outing activities: Excursions or trips to art museums and to places of religious or historic interest; flower arrangement; gardening; and nature study, col-lection, and identification. Literary, languages, and related activities: Creative writing, lectures, reading, mental games, radio and tele- ~ Ibid., pp. 89-92. ~See George D. Butler, Introduction to Community Recreation, 4th ed. (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1967), p. 240. This book is highly recommended to anyone interested in recreation leadership. Leisure VOLUME 2% 1970 45 ÷ ÷ ÷ vision programs° and study groups in literature or lan-guage. Seroice activities: Directing glee club, orchestra, dra-matic groups, assistance in organizing holiday celebra-tions, and assistance in public relations programs. The preceding list should at least indicate the wide diversity of activities which bring satisfaction and re-laxation to various individuals.4; If there is a recreation leader, she should be sure to consider differences in age, interest, skills, place available, time, size of the group, and the funds necessary and available.4s Having a recrea-tion leader, whether on a local, regional, or provincial level, would surely enhance the recreation program. It would be more organized and more e~cient and con-sequently more beneficial to those involved. Special mention must be made of vacations as a form of leisure. Recently, communities have increased the length of vacation periods and have relaxed regulations governing the way vacations are to be spent. Actually, nothing in canon law regarding religious specifies that a religious must have a vacation, but it seems that some kind of vacation is a normal requisite for an individual. It is doubtful that visits to one's family and relatives should be counted as a vacation, because these are often marked by strenuous activity and loss of sleep, so they are not physically relaxing. Even if they provide relax-ation, they can hardly be considered a religious vacation: "A vacation for religious should serve the purpose of intensifying the community spirit.'° 49 A vacation should be taken in a place away from the regular religious houses, where sisters could get together to rest, play games, and get to know one another: "In relaxation and recreation the religious see one another in a new light, and often discover remarkably fine qual-ities that they never knew existed. In my opinion there is nothing like a good community vacation for fostering a good community spirit." 50 It is recognized by superiors and sisters that all of this is true and good, but obstacles, especially financial ones, will always remain. Nonethe-less, everything possible should be done to carry out a vacation program. Regarding the idea of individual religious saving gifts or offerings to pay for the vacation, it would seem con-trary to present canon law which states that gifts received by an individual become the property of the institute. Even if the religious asks permission, the asking of per- Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 46 See ibid., pp. 253-8. See ibid., pp. 264-72. Questions on Religious LiIe (St. Marys, Kansas: R~wEw FOR R~.mious, 1964), p. '112. Ibid., p. 113. missions usually pertains to what the religious needs, not what she desires. It the community permits sisters to make trips and visit their families, the community should pay the expenses. The community ought not insist upon or condone a policy of those who get the money, get the trips:51 Common life also requires that, generally spe.aking, equal opportunities be given to members of a commumty. Hence a superior could allow the members of his community to make a pious pilgrimage provided that he supplied the necessary ex-pense money for such members of his community as do not have relatives or friends who are willing to pay for them.~ However, as witnesses of the poverty of Christ, religious themselves should not desire unduly long and expensive vacations, for poor persons are unable to take such vacations. For Senior Sisters The final part of this paper will be devoted to the area of leisure, recreation, and relaxation for senior sisters. Of course, what has already been stated applies to all sisters, seniors included. But it cannot be denied that these sisters need and deserve special treatment; hence, aspects of leisure which pertain specifically to them will be treated separately. The senior sister as a member of society has, like most others, leaned on her role as worker. All other roles-- friend, citizen, adviser--revolved around her worker role in life. When she retires, she must learn to use her time and place her values differently, because new relation-ships to persons and things develop. "If mental and physical deterioration are to be avoided, new interests and new goals must be found, or old interests and aspira-tions rediscovered . The recreation program offers a fruitful means of satisfying activity for them." 53 As with everyone else, however, the primary responsi-bility for appropriate use of leisure rests with the sister herself. There are some recommendations that will help her to benefit from her new-found role. As suggested by Dr. Maurice E. Linden, these are: (I) Continue to develop your resources. Contrary to popu-lar opinion, the human m~nd continues to develop its capacity well into the seventh and eighth decades. (2) Increase your social effectiveness. Because older people have fewer human drives to contend with, they can channel their energy, thus becoming more socially effective. (3) Enjoy your wisdom. It can be a great source of gratifica-tion now, formerly denied because of inexperience. ¯ t See ibid., pp. 64-5. ~ Ibid., p. 63. ~Arthur Williams, Recreation in the Senior Years (New York: National Recreation Association Press, 1962), p. 18. VOLUME 2% 1970 + ÷ ÷ Siste~ Te~esanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 48 (4) Advance the tenets of human progress. The experience of the older mind gives it the capacity to diStinguish the good from the bad, thus enabling the community to preserve values built up over a period of time. (5) Externalize your interest. As a result of many successes in life, the older person should have the ability to be less selb centered an.d more interested in other people. (6) Place your value in quality. Again as a result of experi-ence, the older mind is capable of seeing the intrinsic value in both persons and things, and those formerly considered insig-nificant now are appreciated. (7) Don't be a spendthrift of time. Maturity enables a per-son to appreciate the value of time and aids her in spending it profitably. (8) Make your human relationships durable, It is a quality of a mature person to be unswerving in devotion to persons and to principles. (9) Don't capitalize on dependency. It is a responsibility of the young to care for the old; but well-adjusted older persons prefer to be as independent as they are capable.of being. (10) Exercise judicious independence. It is unwise to with-draw from the currents of daily life and thus deny the young people the benefit of accumulated experience and knowledge ~" These are just some suggestions that senior sisters may find helpful. It would seem that they are striving to ad-just to their situation. The communities must do all that is possible to aid these sisters, through the establishment of an effective program for the use of leisure. As men-tioned, more than in other groups, there is a definite need for trained personnel for this program. There is a need for a varied program, suited to the individual sister: "Diversity is the keynote of the per-manently successful program." 55 The program should be so planned as to include every sister. And every sister should be encouraged to participate, guarding against the tendency to just sit and watch. But her participation must be voluntary. Only in this way will her real abilities shine forth, and only in this way will she give vent to self-expression. Above all, if the program for the aging sisters is to be successful, it should be designed to improve community living. Those charged with developing the program must have confidence in the senior sisters and must be cognizant that ". older people can learn new skills, but., they learn more slowly and need to engage in recreational activities at their own pace." 56 Dr. Carol Lucas con-ducted a pilot program of study at Columbia University and authored a book in which a recreation program for ~ Linden, "Prep

Issue 26.3 of the Review for Religious, 1967. ; Decree on Religious Life by Vatican Council H 391 Vatican II and Religious Life by Edward O'Connor, C.S.C. 404 A Point of Departure by J. M. R. Tillard, O.P. 424 Interindwelling by Thomas Dubay, S.M. 441 Preparing for a General Chapter by Mother M. Romua!d, O.S.F. 461 Selectin~ Seminary Applicants by Mark E. Niemann, S.J. 470 Seminary Adjustment Patterns by Allen F. Greenwald 483 Marriage 'Program for Religious by Dr. and Mrs. J. C. Willke 489 New Morality, New Asceticism by Quentin Hakenewerth, S.M. 496 Chastity and Consecration ¯ by Robert L. Faricy, S.J. 503 Differences in Constitutions by Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. 507 Poems 517 Survey of Roman Documents 520 Views, News, Previews 523 Questions and Answers 531 Book Reviews 554 VOLUME 26 NUMBER 3 May 1967 VATICAN COUNCIL II Decree on. Religious PAUL, BISHOP THE SERVANT OF THE SERVANTS OF GOD TOGETHER WITH THE FATHERS OF THE COUNCIL FOR A PERPETUAL .RECORD OF THE MATTER 1. The pursuit of perf~c~ charity* by means of the evangelical dounsels has been 'previbusly shown by the Council in the constitution which begins with ther words Lumen gentium to derive its origin from the teaching an'd examples of the divine Teacher and to serve as a striking sign of the kingdom of heaven. Now, however, the Council intends to consider the life and discipline of the institutes whosd members profess chastity, poverty, and obedience and to provide for their needs as the con-ditions of our age suggest. From the very beginnings of the Church there existed men and women who strove through the practice of the evangelical counsels to follow Christ with a greater free-dom and to imitate Him in a closer fashion, each in his own way leading a life dedicated to God. Under the in-spiration of the Holy Spirit .ifi'any of these persons lived a solitary life or founded religious families which the Church gladly accepted and approved with her author-ity. Accordingly, through the divine plan there has grown up a remarkable '~variety of religious groups, a ¢ariety which is of great help to the Church not only in making her equipped for every kind of good work (see 2 Tim 3:17) and ready for, the work of the ministry for the building up of the Body of Christ (see Eph 4:12) but also in making her appear adorned with the various gifts of her children, like a bride adorned for her hus- ¯ This is a translation of the official Latin text, entitled Per]ectae caritatis, as given in ~qcta ,qpos'tolicae Sedis, v. '58 (1966), pp. 702-12. Translation Copyright (g) 1967 Review for Religions Religious Li]e ' ~ VOLUME 26, 1967 4" 4. Vatican Council I1 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS band (see Ap 21:2), so that through her there may be revealed the multiform wisdom of God (see Eph 3:10). In all this great variety of gifts, however, all who are called by God to the practice of the evangelical counsels and who conscientiously profess them dedicate them-selves to the Lord in a special way since they follow Christ who, a virgin and a poor man (see Mt 8:20; Lk 9:58), redeemed and sanctified men by His obedience even to the death of the cross (Phil 2:8). Being thus im-pelled by the charity which the Holy Spirit pours into their hearts, they live more and more for Christ and for His Body which is the Church (see Col 1:24). Accord-ingly, the more fervently they are espoused to Christ by this self-gift that includes all of life, the richer the life of the Church becomes while her apostolate grows in greater productiveness. In order, however, that the great worth of life con-secrated by the profession of the counsels and its neces-sary role may yield greater good for the Church in the circumstances of the present time, this Council enacts the following matters; these are concerned only with general principles for the adaptation and renewal of the life and discipline of religious institutes and also, their own characteristics being respected, of societies of common life without vows and of secular institutes. However, particular norms for the proper interpreta-tion and application of these principles are to be enacted after the Council by the competent authority. 2. The adaptation and renewal of religious include both a constant return to the som:ces of all Christian life and to the original inspiration of the institutes as well as an adaptation of the institutes to the changed conditions of our times. This renewal must be achieved under the impulse of the Holy Spirit and the leader-ship of the Church in accord with the following prin-ciples: ¯ a)Since the ultimate norm of religious life is the fol-lowing of Christ set forth in the gospel, this is to be considered by all institutes as the supreme rule. b) It is for the good of the Church that institutes have their own special characteristics and work. Therefore, there should be a loyal acknowledgment and preserva-tion of their founders' spirit and special aims as well as of their sound traditions--all of which constitute the patrimony of each institute. c) All institutes should share in the life of the Church; and, in accord with their own characteristic structure, they should identify themselves with its undertakings and goals in biblical, liturgical, dogmatic, pastoral, ecu-menical, missionary, and social matters and foster these as much as they can. d) Institutes should foster in their members an ade-quate knowledge of the modern condition of men and of the needs of the Church so that they may correctly eviduate in the light of faith the drcumstances of to-day's world and, burning with apostolic zeal, may be able to give men a more effective assistance. e) Since the primary goal of religious life is that its members should follow Christ and be united to God through the profession of the evangelical counsels, seri-ous consideration must be given to the fact that the best of adaptations made in accord with today's needs will be ineffectual unless they are animated by a spiritual renewal which must always be given precedence .even in the matter of external works. 3. Everywhere and especially in mission territories, th6 way of living', praying, and working should be suit-ably adapted to the modern physical and psychic con-ditions of the members and, as required by the nature of each institute," to the needs of the apostolate, to the re-quirements of culture, and to social and economic con-ditions. The manner of governing in institutes should also be examined according to the same criteria. Therefore, constitutions, directories, prayer and cere-mony books, and other similar collections should be suitably revised and, obsolete prescriptions being elimi-nated, be adapted to the documents of this Council. 4. An effective renewal arid a due adaptation cannot be achieved except through the cooperation of all the members of the institute. However, to establish the norm of adaptation and re-newal, to enact legislation in the matter, and to provide for adequate and prudent experimentation belongs 0nly to the competent authority, especially to general chapters, without prejudice, where required, to the ap- 15robation of the Holy See or of local ordinaries accord-ing to th~ norm of law. But in matters involving the future condition of the entire institute superiors should in an "appropriate way consult and listen to the mem-bers. Fdr the adaptation and renewal of monasteries of nuns, suggestions and advice may also be obtained from federation sessions or from other lawfully convoked meetings. :All, however, should remember that hope for renewal is to be basdd, more on a careful observance of the rule and the constitutions than on a multiplication of laws. .5. The members of each institute should first of all recall to~ mind the fact that by the profession of the evangelical counsels they have responded to a divine call in guch a way that they live for God alone nbt onl~ ÷ + ÷ Religious Li]e ¯ VOLUME 26, 1967 39~, ÷ ÷ ÷ Vatican Council I1 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 394 by being dead to sin (see Rom 6:11) but also by re-nouncing the world. They have committed their en-tire life to His service, a fact that constitutes a kind of special consecration which has its inmost roots in the consecration of baptism and which expresses the latter consecration in a fuller way. Moreover, since this self-gift of theirs has been ac-cepted by the Church, they should realize that they are also dedicated to th~ service of the Church. This service of God should inspire and foster in them the exercise of the virtues, especially humility and obedience, courage and chastity, by which Christ's self-emptying (see Phil 2:7-8) as well as His life in the spirit (see Rom 8:1-13) is shared by them. Being faithful to their profession, then, and leaving all things for the sake of Christ (see Mk 10:28), religious should follow Him as the one thing necessary (see Lk 10:42); and they should listen to His words (see Lk 10:39) and be solicitous for the things that are His (see 1 Cor 7:32). Since, therefore, they are seeking first and foremost God alone, the members of each institute must join the contemplation by which they are united to Him in mind and heart with the apostolic love by which they strive to spread the kingdom of God by associating themselves with the work of redemption. 6. Those who 'profess the evangelical counsels should before all else seek and love God who has first loved us (see 1 Jn 4:10), and in all circumstances they should strive to foster a life hidden with Christ in God (see Col 3:3); these attitudes will begin and incite the love of neighbor which is directed to the salvation of the world and to the building up of the Church and which in addition animates and orientates the actual living of the evangelical counsels. Therefore, drawing upon the authentic sources of Christian spirituality, the members of institutes should steadfastly develop the spirit and practice of prayer. Moreover, it is of foremost importance that they have recourse every day to Sacred Scripture so that by read-ing and meditating the divine writings they may learn the "surpassing knowledge of Jesus Christ" (Phil 3:8). In accord with the mind of the Church they should take part in the sacred liturgy, especially the sacred mystery of the Eucharist, with both heart ~nd lips, thereby nourishing their spiritual life from this richest of sources. Strengthened in this way at the table of the divine law and of the sacred altar, they should love the mem-bers of Christ as brothers and should love and respect their pastors in a filial spirit; ever increasingly they should live and think in union with the Church, com-pletely dedicating themselves to its mission. 7. No matter how urgent the needs of the active apostolate, institutes which are entirely devoted to con-templation in such a way that their members, in solitude and silence, in continual prayer and joyful penance, are occupied with God alone always retain a preeminent place in the Mystical Body of Christ in which "the mem-bers do not all have the same role" (Rom 12:4). The rea-son for this is that they offer an exceptional sacrifice of praise, while with regard to the People of God they make it radiant with a rich endowment of holiness, in-spire it by their example, "and increase it by their hid-den apostolic fecundity. Accordingly, they are a glory of the Church and a fountainhead of heavenly graces. Nev-ertheless, their way of life should be revised according to the foregoing principles and criteria of adaptation and renewal, though their withdrawal from the world and the exercises proper to the contemplative life should be conscientiously safeguarded. ,8. In the Church there are a great number of insti-tutes, both clerical and lay, which are dedicated to vari-ous works of the apostolate and which, in accord with the grace given them, possess different gifts: service in those who minister, doctrine in those who teach, com-pellingness in those who exhort, sincerity in those who offer help, cheerfulness in those who do acts of mercy (see Rom 12:5-8). "There are indeed varieties of graces, but the Spirit is the same" (1 Cor 12:4). In these institutes apostolic and charitable activity belongs .to the very essence of religious life since it has been entrusted to them by the Church as a sacred service and a special work of charity to be exercised in its name. Hence, the entire religious life of the mem-bers should be imbued with an apostolic spirit while all their apostolic activity should be penetrated with a religious spirit. In order, therefore, that the members may first of all respond to their vocation to follow Christ and that they may serve Christ Himself- in His members, their apostolic acti~,ity should flow from close union with Him. In this way there is fostered the full-ness of love for God and for neighbor. These institutes, therefore, should suitably adjust their observances and customs to the needs of the apos-tolate to which they are dedicated. Since, however, there are many forms of religous life dedicated to apostolic works, it is necessary that adaptation and renewal take account of this diversity and that in the various insti-tutes the life of the members be strengthened for the service of Christ by means that are suitable and appro-priate to each institute. ÷ ÷ Religious LiJe VOLUME 26, 1967 395 Vatican oud~il II REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 396 9. In both the East and We~t the venerable iristi'(~fidn of monastic life which through the long cotirse of cen-turies has earned for itself great respect in the Church and in h.uman ~ociety should be preserved with Care and should shin~ forth in all the brilliance of its genuine spirit. The principal duty of monks is to offer to the divine majesty within the confines of the monastery a service, humble but at the same time noble, whether they com-pletely devote themselves to divine worship in ~the con-templative life or whether they have legitimately under-taken some work of the apostolate or of Christian charity: Therefore, ~having safeguarded the characteristic nature of their institution, they should renew their ancient tradi-tions of doing good and adapt them to the contemporary needs of souls in such a'way that monasteries' may be vital-izing sources of edification for the Christian people." ~Similarly, those religious bodies who by rule or by their institute closely join an apostolic life to the choral Office and to monastic observances should adjusf their way of life to the needs of the apostolate appr6priate to them in suck/ a way that they faithfully preserve their form of life as one which contributes in an outstanding way to the good of the Church. '~ 10. Lay religious life, .both for men and women, con': stitutes ifi itself a complete state of' the professiqn of/,he evangelical counsels. Therefore, in a spirit of great es-teem for that life and its contribution to the pastora! work of the Church in the education of youth, in the care of the sick, and in the fulfillrhent of other serv-ices, this Council confirms these religibus in their voca-tion and urges them to adapt their life to modern needs. " This° Council declares that in religious institutes brothers, providing that their: lay character remains un-changed, there is" nothing to prevent some 'members according to the" derision of the general chapter, ~om being admitted to' sacred orders in order to meet the need for priestly ministration within the h~uses of their own institute. 11. Although they are not religious institutes, secular institutes nevertheless involve a tri~e and full profe.ssion of (he e~angelical counsels in the world, a profes.sion that has been recognized by the Church,. This pr6~.es-sion confers a consecration on ,men and wom~n, lay as 'well as clerical, living in the world. Accor .dingly, th~ members should have as their principal goal a total ded= ication of themselves to God in perfedt charit.y; and the institutes themselves shbuld preserve the.it ,special' and characteristic secular nattire so' tliat, in the world and~ as it were, from the world, they may everywhere be able to carry out in an effective way the apostolate for which they were founded. These institutes, however, should fully realize that they will not be able to execute so great a work unless their members are so thoroughly trained in divine and human matters that they are truly a leaven in the midst of the world for the strengthening and growth of the Body of Christ. Their superiors, therefore, should give serious attention to the training, especially the spiritual one, to be given to the members; and they should make provision for its later development. 19. Chastity "for the sake of the kingdom of heaven" (Mr 19:12) which religious profess should be regarded as an outstanding gift of grace. The reason for this is that it liberates :the heart of man in a unique way (see 1 Cot 7:32-5) so that it can bemore greatly inflamed with love for God and for all men; consequently, it is a special sign of heavenly realities and the most suitable means by which religious fullheartedly dedicate them-selves to the' divine service and to works of the apos-tolate. In this way they recall to the minds of all Christ's faithful that wondrous espousal by which the Church has Christ as its only spouse--an espousal that has been instituted by God and that is to be fully revealed in the age to come. Religious, therefore, in their eagerness to carry out their profession faithfully, should believe the words of the Lord; and, having put their trust in God's help, they should practice mortification and restraint of their senses lest they overestimate their own strength. More-over, they should not neglect the natural means that promote health of mind and body. In this way they will not be influenced by the false doctrines which char-acterize perfect continence as impossible or as harmful to human development, and by a kind of spiritual in-stinct they will reject everything which endangers their chastity. All, especially superiors, should furthermore remember that chastity is safeguarded with greater se-curity when true fraternal love among religious flour-ishes in the life they lead in common. Since the observance of perfect continence touches in an intimate way the deepest inclinations of human nature, candidates should not make nor be allowed to make profession of chastity except after they have been tested in a truly sufficient way and except when they pos-sess the required psychological and affective maturity. They should not only be warned of the dangers to which chastity is exposed but they should also he instructed in such a manner that they may assume celibacy dedicated to God in a way that contributes to the benefit of their entire personality. ÷ + + Religious LiJe VOLUME ~'~, 1967 397 Vatican Coundl I! REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 398 ~" 13. Voluntary poverty for the sake of the following of Christ, since it is highly regarded, especially today, as sign of that following, should be carefully practiced by religious and, if necessary, should even be expressed in new forms. Through it is acquired a sharing in the poverty of Christ who, though He was ,rich, became poor for our sake in order that by His poverty we might be-come rich (see 2 Cor 8:9; Mt 8:20). With regard to religious poverty, it is not sufficient to ¯ be subject to superiors in the use of. things, but it is nec-essary that the members be poor in fact and in spirit, having their treasures in heaven (see Mt fi:20). In the matter of their ,employment all religious should realize that they are subject to the common law of work; and while they procure in this way the things necessary for their sustenance and works, they should in addition cast off all undue solicitude and entrust themselves to the providence of the heavenly Father (see Mt fi:25). By their constitutions religious congregations can per-mit their members to renounce their patrimonial goods, both those already acquired and those to be acquired. Taldng. into account the circumstances of individual places, institutes should themselves strive ~to give a kind of collective witness of poverty; and they should gladly contribute from their own goods to the other needs of the Church and to the support of the poor whom all re-ligious should love in closest union with Christ .(see Mt 19:21; 25:34-46; Jas 2:15-6; 1 Jn 3:17). Provinces and houses of institutes should share their temporal goods with one another so that those who have more .help the others who are experiencing need. Although institutes, without prejudice to rules and constitutions, have the right of possessing everything necessary for their temporal life and for their works, yet they should avoid all appearance of luxury, of excessive wealth, and of accumulation of goods. 14. Through profession of obedience religious offer the fuII dedication of their own will as a sacrifice of themselves to God, and through this sacrifice they are united to God's saving will in a more constant and secure way, Hence, after the example of °Jesus Christ who came to,do the will of the Father (see Jn 4:34; 5:30; Heb 10:7; Ps ~39:9) and who, "taking the form of a servant" (Phil 2:7) learned obedience from what He suffered (see Heb 5:8), religious under the impulse of the Holy Spirit sub-mit themselves in a spirit of faith to superiors who act as representatives of God; and through superiors they are led to serve all their brothers in Christ as Christ Himself on account of His submission to the Father served the brethren and laid down His life as a ransom for many (see Mt 20:28; Jn 10:14-8). In this way they are more closely bound to the service of the Church and strive to attain to the measure of the mature manhood and full-ness of Christ (see Eph 4:13). In a spirit of faith, therefore, and of love for the will of God religious should give a humble obedience to su-periors according to the norms of the-rule and of the constitutions. In executing what is commanded and in fulfilling the work assigned them, they should apply the forces of their intellect and will as well as their gifts of nature and grace in the knowledge that they are contrib-uting according to God's plan to the building up of the Body of Christ. In this way religious obedience, far from diminishing the dignity of the human person, leads, it to maturity by extending the freedom of the sons of God,. For their part, superiors, as oneswho will give an ac-count of the souls entrusted to them (see Heb 13:17), should be responsive to the will of God in the fulfill-ment of their office and should exercise their authority in a spirit of service to their brothers in such a way that they express the charity with ,:which God loves them. They should ~govern their subjects as children of God and with respect for the human persons, thereby facili-tating their voluntary submission. Accordingly, they should take special care to leave them adequate freedom with regard to the sacrament of penance and direction of conscience. They should lead their subjects to the point that they cooperate by an active and responsible obedience in fulfilling their duties and in undertaking new tasks. Hence, superiors should gladly listen to their religious and should foster union among them for the good of the institute and of' the Church, without preju-dice, however, to their own authority to decide and order what is to be done. Chapters'~ and councils should conscientiously dis-charge the role assigned them in government; and both of these groups, each in its own way, should be an expres-sion of the common concern of all the religious for the good of the entire community. 15. After the example of the primitive Church in which the body of believers was one heart and one soul (see Acts 4:32), common life, being strengthened by the teaching of the gospel, by the sacred liturgy, and es-pecially by the Eucharist, should be continued in a spirit of prayer and of communion in the same spirit (see Acts 2:42). As befits members of Christ, religious in their living together as brothers should outdo each other in given honor (see Rom 19:10); and they should bear each other's burdens (see Gal 6:2). For" the love, of God has been poured into their hearts by .the Holy: Spirit (see Rom 5:5); consequently,,thegcommunity is like.a true family gathered' together in the nam~ of ,the Lord and Religious" Li]e. ~ . VOLUME 26, 1967' 399 Vatican Council I1 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 400 enriched by His presence (see Mt .18:20); Moreover, love is the fulfilling of the law (see Rom 13:10) and the per-fect bond of union (see Col 3:14), and through it we know that we have made our exodus from death to life (see 1 Jn 3:14). In addition, the unity of the brethren is a manifestation of the coming of Christ (see Jn 13:35; 17:21) and a source of great apostolic vigor. In order that the bond of brotherhood be greater among the members, those who are called lay brothers, assistants, or some other name should be closely joined to the life and activity of the community. Unless circum-stances genuinely indicate a different course of action, steps should be taken that there be only one class of sisters in institutes of women. The onlydistinction of persons to be retained is that which is required by the different works for which the members are destined either by special vocation from God or by reason of spe-cial aptitude. In accord with their nature and with the norms of their constitutions monasteries and institutes of men can admit both clerics and laymen .on an equal status with the same rights and obligations except for those which result from holy orders. 16. Papal cloister should be retained for nuns of the purely contemplative life;, but, after the monasteries themselves have expressed' their desires, it should be adapted to the circumstances of time and place, obsolete practices being abolished. 17. The habit of ,religious, as an outward mark of their consecration, should be simple and modest, poor yet fitting; moreover, it should meet the requirements of health and should be adapted to circumstances of time and place and to the needs of the ministry. The habits of both men and women which do nbt meet these norms must be changed. 18. Adaptation and renewal of institutes depend to the highest degree on the training of the members. Con-sequently, non-clerical men religious and religious women should not be assigned immediately after the no-vitiate to works of the apostolate; but their .religious, apostolic, academic, and professional training, involving also the securing of appropriate degrees, should be con-tinued in an adequate way in houses adapted to this purpose. In order that the adaptation of religious life to the needs of today may not be merely external and in order that those engaged according to their institute in the ex-ternal apostolate may not be unequal to their task, suit-able instruction on current practices and ways of think-ing and feeling in society today should be given to religious according to each one's intellectual capacity and personal ability. The training of religious should be accomplished by a balanced blending of its components so that it contributes to their personal unity, Moreover, throughout their entire life religious should consciously strive to perfect their spiritual, academic, and professional culture; opportunity, .means, and time for this should be provided by superiors as far as possible. It is also the duty of superiors.to see that the directors, spiritual fathers, and professors are.carefully chosen and thoroughly trained . ~ 19. In the matter of the founding of new institutes, need or at least great usefulness as well as the possibility of their growth, must be seriously weighed lest there come into~.existence institutes that are useless or not suffi-ciently vigorous. Where the .Church ~has been but re, cently established special consideration should be given to developing and fostering forms of religious life which take account of the'inhabitants' characteristic way of life and and. of the customs and ~onditions of the region. 20. Institutes should faithfully retain and carry on the works proper to them; and, having considered the welfare of the entire Church and of the dioceses; they should adapt them to the needs of time ~and place, using suitable and even new means and abandoning ,those works which today, fit in less well with the spirit and genuine characteristic of the institute. The missionary spirit must by all means be preserved in institutes, and it must be adapted to modern con-ditions in accord with the nature of each institute so that the preaching of the gospel to all the nations may be more effective. 21. Institutes and monasteries which in the judgment of the Holy See after consultation with the interested local ordinaries do not'provide reasonable hope of even-tually flourishing should be forbidden to receive novices in the future; and, if it can be done, they should be united to another, more vigorous institute or monastery which is not very different in purpose and spirit. 22. As opportunity permits and with the approval of the Holy See, indep~endent institutes and monasteries should promote among themselves federations (if they in some way belong to the same religious family) or unions (if~ especially when they are too small, they have almost equivalent constitutions and usages and are im-bued with the same spirit) or associations (if they are engaged in the same .or similar external works). 23. A davorable attitude should be shown to con-ferences or councils of major superiors that are estab-lished by the Holy See; these can make a significant ÷ ÷ ÷ Rel~gious VOLUME 26, 1967 40! ÷ ÷ ÷ contribution to the fuller achievement of the purpose of the individual institutes, to a more effective cooper-ative work for the good of the Church, to a more equi-table distribution of. the laborers of the gospel in a given territory, as well as to the transaction of matters of common interest to religious. Coordination and coop-eration with episcopal conferences should be established with regard to the exercise of the apostolate. Such conferences can also be established for secular institutes. 24. Priests and Christian educators should make serious efforts to see that by religious vocations that have been suitably and carefully selected there be given to the Church a new growth that clearly corresponds to its needs. The evangelical counsels and the choosing of religious life should often be treated even in ordinary preaching. By educating their children along Christian ways of life, parents should nurture and foster religious vocations in their hearts. Institutes have the right to make themselves known in order to foster vocations as well as the right to seek candidates provided this is done with due prudence and with observance of the norms set down by the Holy See and the local ordinary. For their part, members should remember that the example of their own life is the best recommendation of their institute and the most effective invitation to choose religious 'life. 25. Institutes for whom these' norms of adaptation and renewal are established should respond with eager-ness to their divine vocation and to their role in the Church of these times. This Council has a great esteem for their way of life, a virginal, poor, and obedient one of which the model is Christ the Lord Himself; and the Council puts great hope in the productiveness of their works whether these be little publicized or well known. All religious, therefore, by integrity of faith, by charity for God and neighbor, by love of the cross, and by hope in the glory to come, should spread the good news of Christ throughout the entire world so that their wit-nessing may be seen by all and that our Father who is in heaven may be glorified (see Mt 5:16). Accordingly, through the prayer and interest of the Virgin Mary, Mother of God, "whose life is a source of instruction for all,''1 may they daily experience a greater growth as well as a greater salvific effectiveness. Vatican Coundl I! REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ,t02 Each and every one of the matters contained in this Decree was decided by the fathers of this Council. And St. Ambrose, De virginitate, bk. 2, c. 2, n. 15. We, by the apostolic power given to Us by Christ, to-gether with the venerable fathers, approve in the Holy Spirit, decree, enact, and order to be promulgated what has been decided in this Synod for the glory of God. Given in Rome at St. Peter's on October 28, 1965. I, PAUL, Bishop of the Catholic Church Religious Li]e, VOLUME 26, 1967 EDWARD O'CONNO.R, C.S:C. Vatican II and the Renewal of Religious, Edward O'Con-nor, C.S.C., on the faculty of Notre Dame University, may be reached at Box 514; Notre Dame, Ifidiana. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The Vatican Council was designed to bring about an aggiornamento in the Church; not surprisingly, it also took up the renewal of religious life. But perhaps the most important things which the Council had to say about religious life are not to be found in the chapters devoted specifically to this subject but in those con-cerned with the Church as a whole. For a man is a Christian before he is a religious; and, even in his religious life, that which is most fundamental is not the set of observances that distinguish religious from others, but the same mystery of grace and sacra-mental economy that defines every Christian life. The reason is that the religious life is not peripheral to Christianity (as Leslie Dewart imagines) but an effort to live the Christian life in its fullest and most authentic expression, as Pope John declared. Neither is it created by the ambition to be better than the Church but by a humble and sincere aspiration to "live the life of the Church as deeply and unqualifiedly as possible and thereby to participate as plentifully as possible in the Church's spiritual resources. Such an attitude towards the religious life pervades the Council's teaching. It appears in the way the chapter on the religious life is inserted into the Constitution on the Church and still more in the persistent care taken to expound the religious life in ecclesiological terms. Thus, after declaring that the vows commit a person to the service of God by a special title, the Council adds at once that by baptism we are already consecrated to God. Hence it becomes necessary to explain how the religious vows relate to those of baptism: In order to derive more abundant fruit from this baptismal grace, [the religious] intends, by the profession of the evangeli- cal counsels in the Church, to free himself from those obstacles which might draw him away from the fervor of charity and the perfection of divine worship. Thus he is more intimately consecrated to divine service (LG 44; see PC 5)? The religious state is sometimes menaced by a kind of sectarianism which tends to cut it off in part from the mainstream of the Church's life and action. Religious are tempted to take for granted the common sources of spirituality in the Church, such as prayer and the sacra-ments, and to regard their community rule with its special practices of piety and asceticism as the chief form and source of their distinctive spiritual life. Likewise, the fact that religious are accustomed to the fi:equent use o{ the sacraments and daily attendance at Mass can induce a kind of familiarity and routine that cause them to take these things for granted and so to profit little by them. The Vatican Council has drawn up a magnificent statement of the meaning and value of the great sources of Christian spirituality: the liturgy culminating in the sacraments and above all the Eucharist; Scripture seen not just as a relic to be venerated but as the living God's living word to His people; and finally the Church it-self, that all-embracing mystery in which the Word and the sacraments are contained. Besides its theoretical statements about these sacred mysteries, the Council has set in motion a number o{ reforms, especially in regard to the Eucharistic liturgy, designed to make their mean-ing and grace more accessible. The acts of the Council regarding the liturgy have also been supplemented by the encyclical letter of Pope Paul, Mysterium fidei (Aug-ust, 1965), giving important practical directives for Eu-charistic piety during these times of theoretical con-fusion. Religious above all ought to profit by the new passageways opened into these spiritual riches. Probably the first point which those concerned with renewal of the religious life ought to examine is whether the Scrip-ture, the Eucharist, and the liturgy as a whole have be-come for them the source of living contact with God en-visaged by the Council. The lethargy regarding these spiritual riches with which the whole Church has been afflicted has not left religious unaffected, and they would be rejecting the peculiar grace of the Council if they were now to abide complacently in a pharisaic security that the instructions addressed to "the rest of men" had no rele-x In this paper I will use two abbreviations for the two Council documents that will be most often cited: LG = Lumen gentium, the Constitution on the Church; PC = PerIectae caritatis, on the adapta-tion and renewal of the religious life. Translations will be taken from W. Abbott, The Documents of Fatican H (New York: 1966), but with occasional modifications. ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Li/e VOLUME 26; 1967 405 4. 4. Edward O'Connor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS vance for them. If the. religious life is to experience a i:enewal, it is chiefly in the great mysteries of the Word, the sacraments, and the Church that it must tap its sources (see PC 6). A second way in which religious are in danger of cutting themselves off from the Church as a whole con-sistso in their becoming so engro_ssed in the enterprises of their own community as to lose concern for the greater interests of the Church. For. example, they can .promote recruitment to their community in a way that dis-courages vocations to others. They can pursue funds in a manner that hurts the religious sensibilities of the people, making. Catholicism obnoxious. They can strive for excellence in their schools and journals but fail in theeffort required to give them a truly Christian spirit~ Such seeking of their own true or imagined interests can lead particular communities to neglect or even injure the body of the Church In truth, however, a community within the Church can have genuine vitality only in the measure that it espouses the aims of the Church and subordinates it, self to them. History shows that most religious com-munities have come into being in response to some need of the ChurCh and that they have retained their vital-ity precisely in the measure that they continued to re-spond generously to the need that called them into existence. When they begin to protect their particular interests, their dynamism fails and they decline. In mod-ern times, most of the older communities have been losing ground in Europe and, more recently, in America. But the Little Brothers and Sisters of Jesus in France and the Maryknoll Missionaries in America have ex-perienced a spectacular growth; and both have been communities inspired by the will to give of themselves to the need of the Church, the one by way of presence and contemplation, the other by ~missionary endeavor zeal. The Council therefore summons each religious com-munity, according to its own peculiar character, "to make its own and foster in every possible way the enter-prises and objectives, of the Church in such fields as the following: Scriptural, liturgical, doctrinal pastoral, ecu-menical, missionary, social" (PC 2). The areas.named are evidently those in which the needs of the Church are particularly acute today. All religious can take to heart all of these needs and respond to them by prayer; no service to ,the Church is more proper to the religious life than this. But the prayer must be an earnest plea that pierces heaven to get help,, not a perfunctory routine that serves.as a pretext for doing nothing real. And if a community has really taken the. Church's needs to heart, it will also be generous in responding to them with its manpower and human energies when-ever such service accords with its nature and falls within its capabilities. This qualification is important; the Church does not want any community to lose sight of its proper finality or to neglect the prudent limits and moderation necessary to conserve the strength of an organization (PC 2b and 20). Several communities have already become concerned over the harm suffered by their own works because so many of their members want to abandon them for something new. Some sisters' schools report that the quality of their instruction is threatened because too many of the sisters now~ want to spend their time making home visits instead of correcting papers. But there is also a false prudence that will ven-ture nothing unless hedged bya security that leaves little. place for the trust inculcated~by the Gospels. Right de-cisions in such matters are possible only where humble fidelity to the purpose of one's own community is joined with lively zeal for the Church. Incidentally, it should be ,noted that espousing the interests of the Church can itself be a source of renewal of the religious life. The Church evolves as it undergoes new experiences and undertakes new works in each age; a community deeply attached to the Church will be thereby tarried forward with it. II The Council treats the religious life in two main texts. The Constitution on the Church, Lumen !gentium, de-votes Chapter 6 to this subject, after preparing for it, by an important statement ~on the evangelical counsels in Chapter 5, paragraph 42, On the basis there established, the decree, Perfectae ca¥itatis? gives directives for the renewal of the religious life in our time. (The essence of 'this decree is to be found in paragraphs 2 and 3.) As the two documents overlap and supplement one another, it will be advantageous to synthesize them rather than to treat them separately? Renewal of the religious life, says the decree, calls for two somewhat opposite movements: one consists in bringing traditional religious practices up to date, the ~ The title, The Appropriate Renewal o] the Religious Li[e, which is given to this document in Abbott's edition, is a poor translation of the phrase, De accommodata renovatione . The true sense of the Council's expression is surely that which the editor himself suggests in a footnote on page 466: "The adaptation and renewal." (literally, "The renewal brought about through, or involving, adapta-tion. ")., a Note should' also be taken of the paragraphs de~oted to religious in the Decree on Bishops, nn. 33-35, and in the Decree on the Mis-sions, nn. 18 and 40. ÷ ÷ ÷ 407 + 4. Edward O'Connor, C$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS other in a return to the perennial sources of religious vitality. The renewal and adaptation of religious life involves two simultaneous processes: (1) a continuous return to the source of all Christian life and to the original inspiration behind a given institute and (2) an adjustment of the institute to the changed conditions of the times (PC 2). It is the latter process which has monopolized the atten-tion given to this decree, but it is clear that in the mind of the Council Fathers adjusting to the times is not so nrgent a matter as renewing contact with the sources. Since the religious life is intended above all else to lead those who embrace it to an imitation of Christ and to union with God through the profession of the evangelical counsels, the fact must be honestly faced that even the most desirable changes .made on behalf of contemp.o.ra~ needs will fail of their pur-pose unless a renewal of spent g~ves life to them. Indeed such an interior renewal must always be accorded the leading role even in the promotion of exterior works (PC 2e). Ever since the religious life began, periodic renewals have been necessary in order to recall flagging spirits back to the high ideal that originally inspired them; and the renewal to which the Council summons us is basi-cally of this same sort. However, the adjustments made necessary by the conditions peculiar to our age, although of lesser importance, are really necessary. It will be con-venient to consider them first. The ways of life in religious communities have re-mained pretty much the same down through the ages, little affected by the fashions and manners of the chang-ing world. This is only natural in a life that involves leaving the secular world behind and focusing attention on the eternal. A community that kept up to date in every way would be suspect of having forgotten its essen-tial purpose. Furthermore, each religious community is a school of spirituality created through the inspiration of a founder who is almost invariably a saint. The wis-dom of its rule has been confirmed and enriched by the experience of many members and guaranteed by the approval of the Church. One goes to it in order to be formed by it to a life and mentality that do not come naturally. Hence, it is entirely reasonable for religious to hold as sacred those rules, customs, and practices that have become a tradition in their community and, still more, those which also belong to the common tra-ditions of all religious communities. However, each community is in some measure the child of the age which engendered it. Among its ob-servances there are liable to be elements which are not integral to its proper spirituality but merely the deposits of a contingent culture. Some old monasteries of Europe and the Near East still regard bathing as a sensual in-dulgence. The discalced orders reflect an age in which shoes were considered a superfluity. The Capuchins long regarded shaving as a mark of vanity. Maintenance of such idiosyncrasies is in no way bound up with the pursuit of holiness and sometimes becomes a hindrance to the apostolate. It engenders an atmos-phere of weirdness that may make the religious.life seem irrelevant and unreal to modern man. Even truly mean-ingful elements of religious asceticism may, because of changed circumstances, become a burden so grievous as to'absorb energies that are needed elsewhere. Hence the needs, of adaptations affecting "the m~nner of living, pra~iing and working" (PC 3). Perfectae caritatis names three categories of reasons which may make adaptation; necessary: (I) the physical and psychological conditions.of today's religious; (2) the needs of the apostolate; and (3) the requirements of a given culture, including the social and economic con-. ditions it.imposes. The decree does not give any examples, but it is easy to suggest a few. Qne of the physical conditions affecting many. religious today is the fact that their houses are in the midst of cities or otherwise affected by the bustle of modern civilization, making recollection more difficult than it used to be in secluded monasteries. Psychological conditions include the nervousness and tension, also the much-discussed ,alienation, 6f mddern man, and the in-dependence and skepticism of the youth from among whom new recruits for the religious life must be drawn. The needs of the apostolate often make it difficult to practice the externals of the religious life in the form anticipated by the older rules. Thus, the need to be in contact with students in a college, or with classes of society that have been alienated from the Church, or with colleagues in professional societies, interferes with the observance of common exercises of piety and also with the more obvious .forms of separation from the world which have traditionally characterized the reli-gious life. There is also the need to possess books or scientific equipment, or to employ the most modern means and techniques of communication, or to travel for the sake of education or contacts. The reference to the "requirements of a given culture" reminds us that the religious life in the Church has received its forms predominantly from European Ca-tholicism. When it is transplanted to America or Africa or the Far East, it rightly divests itself of peculiarly European (or Americanl) forms in order to penetrate more purely and effectively into die new culture. Other cultural factors to be considered are the: high level of ÷ + + VOLUME 26, .).967 409 ÷ ÷ ÷ l~dward O'Connor, C.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS education of most people today (at least in Europe and America) compared to those of past centuries and. the resultant fact that few young people, in America at. least, are willing to embrace a life of manual or domestic labor. In trying to make the categories of Perfectae caritatis more specific, one should not overlook the priceless illumination which the constitution Gaudiurn et spes (The Church in the Modern World) sheds, on the char-acteristic traits of our times. Some of the features noted there which are particularly relevant to the religious life are: (1) the progressive socialization of human activities due to the growing interdependence of men, (2) the in-fluence of scientific studies and technological achieve-ments (especially in the field of communications) on the popular mentality, and (3) the increase of respon-sible participation, both in theory and in fact, by the members of a community in its common activities. The same constitution also points out some of the leading ideas of modern thought which the Church has to assess according to its own light. The dominant tone of the Council's assessments is one of generous approval (to such a degree that some Protestant commentators objected that it was neglecting its role of critic--an ob-jection that has not often been lodged against the mod-ern Churchl). Among the ideas which the Council sin-gles out, that of the dignity of man is central (nn. 12 ft.). Associated with it are the value of liberty (n. 17) and of interpersonal relationships (n. 23) and the inviolability of conscience (nn. 16 ff.). The latter includes the right to religious freedom expounded in the declaration sig-nificantly entitled Dignitatis humanae. These conditions and inspirations of modern culture affect the mentality of those who become religious as well as that of the world to which many of them are sent as apostles or to which, in any case, they must relate themselves. Religious communities are urged to foster among their members a "suitable awareness" of these conditions (PC 2 and 18). The Council clearly rejects the attitude which has at times had some currency that it is wrong for religious to have any thought whatsoever about the world they have left behind. Those who are sent to evangelize the world must know it. On the other hand, however, the Council does not recommend the indiscriminate seek-ing of knowledge and experience but only that which is "suitable." For not all knowledge of the world is useful for the apostolate. It would even be detrimental if the knowledge of the world were secured at the expense of that knowledge of God which it is the apostle's mission to bring to the world. There is a true sense in which the religious ought not to be concerned with the world he has left behind, and the Council says nothing to dis-credit this principle but rather confirms it. Contem-platives, devoted to a life of prayer and penance in an atmosphere of solitude and silence, are expressly en-joined to maintain "sacredly" their withdrawal from the world (PC 7). The same principle would apply in vary-ing degrees to all other religious also, although no specifications are given. In adapting to the conditions of modern times, com-munities need to reexamine the way they are governed and the official documents that fix the structure of their life: constitutions, directories, books of customs and ceremonies, of prayers, and so forth (PC 3). As to the mode of government, the Council adopted a view---one might almost say, a "mood"--that has been widely expressed in recent literature. Principles that Lumen gentium had previously applied to the hierarchy are here applied to religious superiors. Authority should be used in a spirit of service and charity with respect for both human personality and the dignity of divine sonship in those who are subject to it. This means that the views of the latter be listened to willingly and that they beencouraged to make a personal contribution to the welfare of the community and the Church through an obedience that is active and responsible.' But these recommendations have to do with the mode in which the superior exercises his office and do not imply any diminution of his authority to decide what is to be done and to require that his decisions be followed (PC 14). A list of recommended adaptations for community practice is given in Per[ectae caritatis: elimination of needless class divisions (n. 15), modification of the papal cloister of nuns (n. 16), simplification of the religious habit (n. 17), fuller education to prepare religious for their work and their life, hence also "the careful selection of competent educators and directors for them (n. 18), the federation of monasteries and communities which have a similar spirit or engage in similar work (n. 22), conferences among major superiors of different com-munities (n. 23), and so forth. All of these recommendations are familiar, and most of them have already been adopted by many of the com-munities for which they are relevant. Otherwise, the Council makes no specific recommendations but calls upon each community to determine for itself what adap-tations it needs. This is not due to pusillanimity but ¯ "Successful renewal and proper adaptation cannot be achieved unless every member of a community cooperates . In decisions which involve the future ol~ an institute as a whole, superiors should in an appropriate manner consult the members and ~ve them a hearing" (PC 4). + 4- 4- 4- 4- Edward O'Connor, C,$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS to realism. "l-he adaptations needed cannot be deter: mined by the universal nature of religious comm_unities; they are a function of the peculiar aims, spirit, and cir-cumstances of each (PC 8). Furthermore, we have just seen that it is a cardinal principle of'the Council's whole philosophy-of renewal that all the members of a com-munity ought to have an active and responsible part in its deliberations; it is simply consistent .with that prin-ciple to leave to each community the responsibility for determining what changes it needs. Incidentally, it ought not to be overlooked that this very readiness to leave responsibility to the men in the ranks already represents a major adaptation to the democratic temper of modern culture (~ven while being at the same time a return to a more evangelical spirit). III Besides the sources of spiritual.ity common to the en~ tire Church, each community has a special inspiration of its own, which also is a source of vitality for 'it. The Council wants this, too, to be kept in full vigor: Loyal recognition and safekeeping should be accorded to the spirit of founders, as also to all the particular goals and wholesom, e traditions .which constitute the heritage of each commumty (PC 2). As a result, there is comiderable variation in the fo~ms of religious life, which the Church treasures as coming about from a divine plan and adding to her bea~uty as well as expediting her capacity for good works (PC 1). There was a time when the differences between the orders.were the cause of animosity~ and jealousy. That day is, thank God, largely past; it has been succeeded, however, by an age in which it is more and more difficult to discern the distinctive purpose °and spirit of any but a few of them. In America, especially, as the communities transplanted from Europe have been. severed~om their roots, they have tended to enter into the sa.me works-- schools, parishes, mission bands, journ.als~and to adopt the same spirit. Franciscans and Dominicans, J,esuit,s and Benedictines, if the.y dropped their habits and initials, would be scarcely distinguishable° f_rp~m one another. Without denying the good aspects bf,.this development, the Council nevertheless declares that "it serves the best interests of the Church for communities to have their own special character and purpose." As park of the religious renewal, it calls for "a continuot~s return to. the original inspiration behind a given institute." In practice, this,means that: Communities should faithfully malnt~in and fulfill their proper activities., and abandon whatever activities are, today less in keeping with the spirit of the community and its authentic character (PC 20). While espousing the interests of the whole Church, they must do so in a way that accords with their individual character (PC 2). This is no permit for an inertial perpetuation of the status quo. Continuous effort is required to keep in view the authentic inspiration of a community, and a selfless fidelity and generosity are necessary to make its activities conform to this standard. For example, a contemplative community may be obliged to renounce types of social service that distract too much.from its life of prayer, even though this service is needed by the Church and a source of support for the community. A missionary com-munity may have to give up parochial establishments which were once undertaken as missions but meanwhile l{ave become comfortable sources of revenue. A com-munity devoted to the poor may need to have second thoughts if in fact its schools and other works have be-come chiefly a service of the well-to-do. However, the right decision in such matters cannot always be settled simply by an appeal to the original constitution of the institute. The actual history and achievements of a community are factors that modify as well as manifest its character; divine providence is at work in the unexpected turns of its development as well as in the vision that inspired its founder. Who would advise the Jesuits to give up their schools and go back to the unique intention of working in the Holy Land? Furthermore, the human involvements, both of religious and of those to whom they minister, are so complex that to drop an unwanted work might sometimes do more harm than to continue with it. Thus fidelity to the spirit of the founder is neither an easy rule to apply nor a pretext for indifference. It is a difficult virtue, requiring vitality, discrimination, objectivity, and adaptability, not to mention patience and perseverance. Nevertheless, it is a condition sine qua non of au-thentic renewal. For a religious community is the work of God more than of man. Even though it has not the same sacred and unchangeable character that are attrib-uted to the Church, it is still the product of an inspira-tion of the Holy Spirit by whom the founder was im-bued with the vision not only to recognize a new need but also to await the moment and adopt the means prepared by God. He could not otherwise have fitted together a plan of life that would constitute an authen-tic school of Christian spirituality (see LG 43) in which souls could advance in identification with the one Christ while yet fulfilling the functions distinctive of this com-munity. ÷ ÷ ÷ ~llglous rite VOLUME 26, 1967 413 ÷ ÷ ÷ Edward. O'Connor, ,C.S;C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Not every~ religious receives the charism of a founde;'. Most are called to be formed by the Holy Spirit in the mold of a community alreadyestablished and to transmit the spirit of this community faithfully to others. But the fact that the Church has summoned us to make ad-justments in our traditional way of life can become for many a temptation to a kind of spiritual adven-turism. We need therefore to remember that the Church's summons does not give us the grace of a founder or qualify us to attempt a re-creation. The pur-pose of adaptations is to bring out more effectively the spirit of an existing community, not to lay the founda-tions of a new one. Finally, we must take note of the concept of the religious life which emerges from the documents of Vatican II. This is relevant both to the process of adapting to modern conditions and to that of returning to the sources. Wise adaptations have to be directed by an accurate awareness of the nature and purpose of a religious community: some of the reforms that are occa-sionally proposed today make one wonder what notion, of the religious life has inspired them. On the other hand, the spirit and practices of the religious life .are themselves important sources of spirituality. What the Council has to say about the nature of the religious life will be summarized here rather succinctly. Most of it will be familiar to religious acquainted with the traditional literature. However, it would be a mis-take to dismiss this doctrine as banal and common-place. The traditional teachings, distilled down to some of their finest elements, take on new authority .and holi-ness when they issue from the pondered judgment of the pastors of the Church assembled together as a college, This is no slight recommendation for a body' of princi-ples intended to govern a way of life. Even more, the statements of the Council testify to the substantial correctness of a doctrine which has been as-saulted by many challenges and questionings in recent years. The literature on the religious life, which used to be so conventional (and so dull), began to be quickened only a few years ago with a certain freshness and novelty as new interpretations and recommendations were pro-posed,: by authors drawing inspiration from modern psy-chology and philosophy as well as (or instead of)tra-ditional sources. The word aggiornamento ~uttered by Pope John and the open and inquiring attitude of the" Council did not engenddr this new trend but helped to ignite it into a conflagration that radically challenges almost every element of the traditional ideas of the religious life trom things as basic as poverty, chastity, and obedience to things as superficial as the daily ho-rarium; from externals such as the religious habit to the interior spirit of recollection and renunciation. Some of the new views undoubtedly represent a gen-uine contribution of modern culture to the religious life (though often only in the form of keys that enable the tradition to open doors into its own profound re-cesses and draw more deeply on. its authentic sources). In. other cases, however, the true meaning of the reli-gious life seems to have been lost sight of in some meas-ure by people whose main inspiration comes from mod-ern humanism or existentialism or personalism .rather than from that spirit which engendered the religious life in the first place and which must always be the mainspring of its vitality, however much it may be strengthened by other tributaries. And in some cases, the taste of experimentation and innovation seems to have excited an appetite to make drastic changes simply for the thrill of it. Against such a background, the teachings of Vatican II come as a discriminating and authoritative judgment upon th~ new theology of religious life. Tha~ the Council was aware of the new views and even assimilated some of them is manifest in the documents, as the points re-viewed above indicate. It could hardly have been other-wise 'when theologians such as l~ahner, Congar, Schille-beeckx, and others were involved in the Council as periti and consultants. When, therefore, the Council reiterates traditional teachings, even in the very document in which it calls for adaptation, its action is clearly not a perfunctory repetition of doctrines inherited {rom the past but a deliberate and meaningful affirmation of the enduring validity of things which may not be altered under the pretext of modernization. The fathers saw that for a deep and lasting renewal of the religious life as well as for an intelligent adaptation it is indispensable that the authentic meaning of this life be unambiguously grasped and its essential practices faithfully maintained. (1) What does Vatican II regard as the essence of the religious life? The documents generally avoid speaking in the form of definitions,5 preferring simply to point out those 'values which are of chief importance and furnish the religious life with its raison d'dtre. The dom-inant accent is Christocentric. The opening paragraph of Perfectae caritatis describes religious as men and women who strive "to follow Christ more freely and imitate Him more exactly," and thus "unite themselves 6LG 44 does, however,, declare that "the religious state is consti-tuted by the profession of the evangelical counsels." Religious Life VOLUME 26, 1967 415 Edward O'Ctmnor~ C~S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS to Christ 'through a self-surrender involving their entire lives," and who "devote themselves to the Lord in a special way." 6 Hence, in laying down principles for renewal, the decree begins with the following: Since the fundamental norm of the religious life is a follow-i, ng of Christ as proposed by the Gospel, such is to be regarded by all communities as their supreme law (PC 2a). The following of Christ consists in listening to His word and doing His work (PC 5). The imitation, on the other hand, is realized especially in the counsels: They imitate Christ the virgin and the poor man, who redeemed men by an obedience which carried Him even to death on the cross. (PC 1). Because of this likeness to Christ which ought to char-acterize their state, religious are Counted on by the Church to manifest Christ to the world: Through them Christ should be shown contemplating on the mountain, announcing God's kingdom to the multitude, heal-ing the sick and the maimed; turning sinners to wholesome fruit, blessing children, doing good to all, and always obeying the will of the Father who sent Him (LG 46).' (2) There is a widespread tendency in the new literao tur~ to explain the religious life chiefly in terms of service of neighbor as i{ God were attained only in-directly and implicitly. The Council squarely contradicts this view and repeatedly declares that the religious life is defined essentially by its relationship to .God. The ~elationship to men is important but secondary and consequent upon the theological reference. LG calls the religious life "a state consecrated to God" (n. 45) and describes those who embrace it as "totally dedicated to God . more intimately consecrated to di-vine worship," and as referred to His honor and service by a new and special title (.n. 44). PC declares expressly: The religious life is intended above all else to lead those who embrade it to an imitation of Christ and union with God (n. 2).8 It goes on to add (n. 6): Those who profess the evangelical counsels love and seek before all else that God who took the initiative in loving us; in every circumstance they aim to develop a life hidden with Christ in God. This prior dedication to the things of God is, to be sure, profitable to the Church even apart from any ac- ~ PC 2 and LG 44 speak ~n the same vein. ~ This idea is developed further in LG 42. s See also n. 1, which desdribes the religious life as one "dedicated to God." tive apostolate which the ~reiigious may undertake as the following statement declares; but it is not the motive of helping the Church but rather the intrinsic value of dedication to God which constitutes the primary motive for the religious life. The religious life, by giving its members greater freedom from earthly cares, manifests., the presence of heavenly goods al-ready here below, bears witness to the new and eternal life ac-quired by Christ's redemption, and foretells the coming resur-rection and the glory of the heavenly kingdom (LG. (3) On the other hand, however, dedication to God does not exempt religious from a practical concern for men, but rather "gives rise and urgency to the love of one's:~neighbor for the salvation of the world and the upbui!ding of the, Church" (PC 6). ThErefore, even while i's~eking.Go.d before all things and, only Him," religious should also seek to unite apostolic love with their con-templation (PC 5). Their interior life itself ought to be permeated with devotion to the welfare of the whole Church (LG 44). The conciliar documents are alive with a sense of apostolic urgency. "The missionary spirit is b~ all means to be,maintained in religious communities" declares PC 20. . Mgreover, in those communities dedicated specifically to the apostolic ministry or to works of mercy, these activities are not to he regarded as accidental to the religious life: . In such communities, the very nature of the religious life requires apostolic action and services, since a sacred ministry and a special work of charity have been consigned to them by the Church'~nd must be discharged in her name (PC 8). (4) Although the religious life ~as a meaning that is chiefly positive, it also has a negative side that is indis, pens~ible:, renunciation. The crucified character of this life h~is from the beginning given scandal and provoked 9 ;Fhe terms of this statement ought to be noted 9arefu~ly.It is often heard today that the religious is an eschatological witness, a sign for the faithful of the kingdom that is to come. The Council has not failed to take note of this'aspect of the life. But it puts ih first place ~he witnessing "to the presence of heavenly goods already here below.'; The divine life to which the religious witnesses is not merely a future one that has been promised, bu~ a present one that is given already by grace. Religious are not thos~ who live in a spiritual "desert, buoyed up solel~ by the expectation of the Prom-ised Land; ,they are supported already by a "hidden manna," and have already present within themselves the source and wellspring of life. It is true that all Christians living the life of grace possess this same uncreated Source; but it is the special Vocation and mis-sion of religious to manifest its presence and reality by the joy and peace of their lives amid renunciations wl~ich would otherwise be depressing. The apostolic value and obligations of the religious "life is still furthe'r develoi~ed in the Decree on the Missions, nn. 18 and 40. + + + Religious Lite VOLUME 26, 1967 417 ÷ ÷ Edward O'Conno~ C.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ,t18 attack, and a certain modern humanism tries by every possible means to eliminate it, for example, by reinter-. preting renunciation to mean simply the rejection of sin, without any positive mortification. This view is firmly rejected by the Council as it declares: The members of each community should recall above every. thing else that by their profession of the evangelical counsels they have given answer to a divine call to live for God alone, not only by dying to sin (see Rom 6:11) but also by renouncing the world . Therefore in fidelity to their profession and ~n renunciation of all things for the sake of Christ (see Mk 10:28), let religious follow Him (see Mt 19:21) as their one necessity (see Lk 10:42) (PC 5). There is no contradiction between the stand taken here and the positive, appreciative and friendly attitude towards the world expressed in the constitution Gau. dium et spes. The Council is simply recognizing the validity of the traditional distinction between the re-. ligious and secular orders. The world is good in itself; that is why there can be good secular Christians, as LG shows in devoting a full chapter to "the universal call to holinesS." But the religious is called to renounce the world in witness to a good that transcends it. Likewise, the Council recognizes and even insists on the need of a Christian renewal of the secular or temporal order. But. this renewal is the proper responsibility of seculars, not of religious. "The laity must take on the renewal of the temporal order as their own special obligation," declares the Decree on the Apostolate of the Laity (n. 7).1° The specific attention given to the role of the laymen in the Church is one of the distinctive features of the Council. LG devoted a full chapter to the subject, while the Decree on the Apostolate of the Laity spelled out. its practical implications. One of the dominant notes of. the Council's teaching was an affirmation of the laity's genuine responsibility for the work of the Church with. the strong recommendation that in those things thai: belong to their competence this responsibility be re. spected. This doctrine is not without significance for the religious state. Since the Middle Ages, the religious and clergy have tended to preempt the role of judgment and decision in the Church. This came about by necessity for want of a sufficiently educated laity. It was also a defensive reaction against a series of unorthodox tendencies of lay origin. But however just and under. standable the cause, the result was the involvement of both clergy and religious in business that was naturally alien to their state. For the past fifty years or more, there has been a growing consciousness of the need to rectify 1o Note that laity, ~s the term is used in this document, denote.~ seculars. this condition. The documents of Vatican II represent a decisive step by the Church in eschewing the excessive clericalism and "religiosity" (if the term may so be used) of past centuries. The purpose of this step is to restore to the laity a more vigorous and healthy function in the Church, but it should also have the important side effect of making it easier for priests and religious to be more simply and authentically priests and religious. (5) The fundamental renunciations of the religious state consist in the evangelical counsels of poverty, chas-tity, and obedience. Not that the primary meaning of these counsels is the negative one of renunciation, but that a renunciation constitutes the material basis of each. In the name of modern psychology, all three counsels, but especially chastity and obedience, are under attack as impeding the maturation and fulfillment of the per-sonality. The Council replies that the very opposite is the case; the counsels make a positive and precious con-tribution to the humane development of the individual person: The profession of the evangelical counsels, though entail-ing the renunciation of certain values which undoubtedly merit high esteem, does not detract from a genuine development of the human person. Rather by its very nature it is most benefi-cial to that development. For the counsels, voluntarily under-taken according to each one's personal vocation, contribute greatly to purification of heart and spiritual liberty. They continually enkindle the fervor of charity (LG 46). (6) Vatican II was not content with a blanket en-dorsement of the counsels as "fostering the holiness of the Church in a special way" (LG 42) but touched deftly and luminously on the special contribution made by each. Both LG and PC give primary attention to virgin-ity and celibacy as more representative of the religious life than either poverty or obedience. This corresponds both to the common sense instinct of the Christian peo-ple at large and to the actual history of the religious life in the Church which began with consecrated vir-ginity and was supplemented subsequently by the other two counsels. Moreover, all Christians must imitate and witness to the self-emptying of the poor and obedient Christ, but celibacy is "a precious gift of divine grace to some" (LG 42). In declaring the value of religious celibacy, the Coun-cil scarcely alludes to the practical advantages often played up by modern writers who see the vow as freeing a man or woman from the cares of a particular family in order to devote himself or herself to the People of God at large. This value is not denied; but the Council stresses rather the properly religious value already pointed out by St. Paul that celibacy frees a person "to ÷ Religious Li]e VOLUME 26, 1967 419 + + 4, Edward O'Connor, C,S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 420 devote his ,.entire self to God with ~undivided heart" (LG 42). It is both a sign and a stimulus of charity, "causing the human heart to burn with greater love for God and men" (PC 12)~ The notion that the Christian virgin is an eschatological witness, while not specifically mentioned by the Council, is cerk~inl~ implicit in °its general commendation of the religious state, which we have seen. Finally, the consecrated virgin is, in a unique' way, a witness to the marriage of Christ and the Church (PC 12), a living sign of the Church's vocation as Bride of Christ. '~ ~ ' (7) Poverty is (unlil(e chastity and obedience) a forrfi of witness especially esteemed by the modern world (PC 13). This gives it a kind of strategic importance in an age in which it is so difficult for the religious life to win appreciation. In a very practical vein, the Cotincil byP othinet sm oeuret tfhaactt tthhea tp ar ascutpiceeri oofr ,sp poevremrtiys siiso nno hta ssa bties.f~iend obtained for the use of material goods. The religiou~ must be poor in fact as well as in spirit, and communities must practice corporate as well as individual poverty. And while repeating the fundamental biblical admon.~- tion to trust in the heavenly Father and to put aside undue concern for material provisions, the Council also recognizes that some of the traditional expressions 'of religious poverty may need to be replaced by more sui~:~ able ones today (PC 13). (8) On the religious meaning of obedience, the Coun-cil is emphatic in its recourse to traditional lahguage to describe the directly theological values involved~ Religious obedience is a "renunciation of 6ne's will," (LG 42) and a total dedication to God whereby one's own self is offered in ~acrifice (PC 14). By sub-mitring to superiors as God's representatives and by being guided by,them in the service of others, one als6 unites himself more firmly to the savin~ will of God and puts his ~ictivity more securel); under the inspirati.on 'of the Holy Spirit (PC 14). In this way religious obedience makes a man a firmer and surer instrument of Cod'in all his undertakings; and only in the measure that hei.~ so can his apostolic activity be effective; Finally, religioui~ obedience commits a man more firmly to die ministry of the Church (PC 14). I~LG 42 gives the following ca~efuliy 'construct~ed deflnidon~of the obedience of religious: "In order to be more ~ully conformed to the obedient Christ, they submtt themselves to men .for the sake of: God in the matter of perfection~ be~orid what is required by pre-cept." Monsignor Gallagher's translatioh~ in The, Documents Vatican H is, in my judgm.ent, quite erroneous. The original., text reads: "illi sdlicet sese h0mini propter Deum in re perfectionis 'ultra mensu~am praecepti subiciunt, ut Christo 0boedienti sese., plenitF~ con formen t Y Thus, the Council sees religious obedience as having the twofold value (1) of sacrifice by which God is directly glorified and (2) of apostolic fruitfulness, by making the would-be apostle the instrument of the interior move-ment of the Holy Spirit and of the external and sacra-mental movement of the Church's ministry. This super-natural vision of the value of obedience has no room for the minimizing tendencies of a closed humanism which looks upon obedience merely as a source of guid-ance for the immature and a means of order in the organization. The Council is, however, ,attentive to .the anxieties of those who fear that a regime of obedience will hamper the development of personal maturity. To avert such a danger, it recommends, not that obedience be diminished in any way, but rather that it be made more personal and radical: Let [religiousi bring to the execution of commands and to the discharge of assignments entrusted to them the resources of their minds and wills, their gifts of nature and grace. Religious obedi-ence lived in this manner will not diminish the dignity of the human person but will rather lead it to maturity, in consequence of that enlarged freedom which belongs to the children of God (PC 14). Obedience does indeed degrade the person when it is merely a passive submission, and still more when it is an unwilling compliance submitted to only reluctantly and under compulsion. But free and spontaneous conformity to the decisions of a competent authority is a genuinely personal and ennobling act, even (and perhaps espe-cially) when disagreement with the judgment of au-thority turns conformity into a crucifying purification of self-will. (9) Finally, the Council makes it clear that religious life is not just a way chosen by men in which to serve God and neighbor on the same plane with any secular profession. It is in the proper sense a vocation; that is, a response to a personal call from God which is not given to everyone: The members of each community should recall above every-thing else that by their profession of the evangelical counsels they have given answer to a divine call (PC 5; see also n.1). Let each one who has been called to profess the counsels take care to remain in the vocation to which he has been called by God (LG 47). Consequently, the religious life is not primarily man's enterprise or man's achievement, but his response in love and fidelity to the personal and loving invitation of the Lord to follow Him in a privileged way. Hence, it is also a special gift of grace. "The evangelical counsels are a divine gift from the Lord to His Church," above all in the case of chastity, "a precious gift of divine grace, ÷ ÷ Religious Lile VOLUME 26, 1967 421 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS which the Father has given to certain ones (see Mt 19:11, 1 Cor 7:7)" (LG 42). Some modern writers, concerned with defending the freedom with which religious profession is made, have tended to:minimize or even deny, in effect, the reality of the special, call from God which this "vocation" origi-nates. The Council is quite sensitive to the exigencies of human, liberty, as we have. already seen; but it will not concede that the freedom of God in "calling whom He wills" 12 detracts from the freedom of man. Rather, the very idea of a call presupposes freedom in the one who is to respond,la (10) In attempting to represent the distinctive holiness of the religious state corresponding to the divine call on which it. is based, popular expositions sometimes give the impression that only religious are seeking perfection whereas seculars are content merely to save their souls. Vatican II energetically opposes such a view by insisting over and over that "all the faithful of Christ, of what-ever rank or status, are called to the fullness of the Christian life" '(LG.40).x4 This emphasis has led some readers to suppose that the Council intended to revoke the long-standing teaching of the Church that the reli-gious life is .in itself a holier state and more conducive to union with God than secular life.x5 Close reading of the documents, however, makes it clear that Vatican II's emphasis on the real holiness accessible in the secular life is not meant as a denial of the special holiness att~cl~ing to religious profession. The latter is presented as a real consecration of the person to the service of God which provides genuine and powerful helps to union with God and as a way of life that manifests with special clarity even that holines~ common to the entire People of God. In addition to the ~See Mk 3:13. This text is not cited by the Constitution but per-tains simply to my commentary. ~ Thus, even though it is God who first calls a man to make p~o- [ession of the counsels, poverty is said to have been embraced by the free choice of the children of God (LG 42). Moreover, as has already been noted, LG teaches that the effect of the counsels' is to enhance inan's interior liberty. l~This' doctrine is developed throughout chapters 5 ("The Laity') and° 6 ("The Universal Call to Holiness") of Lumen gentium as well as in the decree on the apostolate of the laity (Apostolicam actuositatem, where note especially n. 4). ~ Such a doctrine had been defended by the Council of Trent, for example, when it anathematized those who deny that "it is better and more blessed to observe virginity or celibacy than to contract marriage" (Session 24, can. 11; DS 1810). It should go with-out saying that this comparison of states is not a comparison of per-sons. One who is called to a holier state of life is not for that reason clmer to God than someone else in a lower state; and for each per-son the best and holiest flay of life is that to which God calls him, which may not be in itself the highest. texts already, cited above, the following may be noted." The religious life is one "of surpassing value" (PC 1), "fosters the perfection of charity in a unique way" (LG 45). It can be characterized appropriately as "the pursuit of perfect charity through the :exercise of the evangelical counsels" (PC 1) which enable a person to "follow Christ more freely and imitate Him more closely" (PC, 1 and also LG 44). Hence, the holiness of the Church is "fostered in a special way by the observ-ance of the counsels" (LG 42) and "appears in an espe-cially appropriate way" in them (LG 39). As a conse-quence, the religious state "more adequately manifests the presence of heavenly goods here below," foretells the resurrected state, and shows to all the world the power of Christ and His Spirit (LG 44). These teachings do not give religious, grounds for self-esteem and complacency; to take them in that sense would be to ignore the spirit of humility, charity, service and dedication which pervades the Council statements. But they come as a needed tonic in an era of vocation shortage and crises. For given the ditficult renunciations entailed by the religious life, how can anyone be ex-pected to embrace it if other easier and more human ways of life are equally ,good? And how can anyone tempted to discouragement over his vocation be ex-pected to persevere without a strong conviction of the excellence of that to which his life is dedicated? In summary, the renewal envisaged by Vatican II in-volves two simultaneous processes: adaptation to new circumstances and recovery of that which is perennial. It would hardly be just to say that adaptation has to do only with external and superficial aspects of the reli-gious life, since it is to be based on a generous apprecia-tion and assimilation of the qualities of the modern spirit and can even lead to modification in the manner of government of the community. Nevertheless, the Council" clearly .teaches that the es-sential purpose, spirit, and methods of the religious life must remain unaltered; and it insists that the chief proc-ess of renewal will be a return to those sources from which the religious life always has and always will'.draw its vitality. These ar~ of three types: those common to all Christians (~hich~ are the most important of all), those characteristic of the religious life, and finally the dis-tinctive spirit and end of each community. It is to these that religious.must look for the grace to become ir~ fullest fact what they .hlready profess to be. In the religious and Christianlife,. renewal cishsists less in inventing some-thii~ g new than in .becoming something very VOLUME 26, 1967 423 J. M. R. TILLARD, A Point O.P. of Departure J. M. R. Tillard, O,P., is a faculty member of the Do-minican College of Theology; 96 Em-press Avenue; Ot-tawa 4, Canada. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The conciliar decree on the adaptation and renewal of religious life does not seem Iikely to go down in history as one of the great documents of the Council. It will be judged with a degree of severity; and it will be charac-terized as being somewhat routine and uninspired. If it is compared with the texts on ecumenism, on the apostol-ate of the laity, or on the missions, it is soon seen that th~ authors of the decree did not succeed in deeply penetrat-ing into the implications of the dogmatic constitution, Lumen gentium, which is the doctrinal charter of the Council, nor in drawing from it a strongly structt.~red synthesis of the exigencies ,demanded by the present status of the world's salvation from all forms of the re-' ligious life. There was too much readiness to graft the new perspectives onto the old stock---one that has been deeply enrooted for several centuries. This lack of profundity seems to us to be a serious matter. For religious life is not situated on the periphery of the mystery of the Church but at its heart's center. Hence, it is above all in religious life that there should appear the work of renewal that has been accomplished ¯ by the Spirit of God for the total fidelity of the Church to the salvific plan of the Father. At the heart of the People of God religious should become--and precisely by reason of their vocation--a sort of visible signboard on which the~'e can be clearly read the appeals and in-spirations of Him who d'irects all things to the achieve-ment of the paschal work of Jesus. History shows us how in the course of the centuries the great impulses that have stirred up the life of the Church have most often sprung forth from religious communities: missionary en-thusiasm contributed by the monks and then in modern times by communities of men and women founded speci-ally for this purpose; the movement of conversion to evangelical simplicity initiated in the Middle Ages by the mendicant orders and in our own day by fraternities of the type of the Little Brothers and the Little Sisters of Jesus; the apostolate of the milieux of the poor and the evangelization of the working class or of the rural areas stemming from undertakings such as those of Vin-cent de Paul, of P~re Anizan, and of Jeanne Jugan. This overview shows that the institution of religious life has as its vocation to be a privileged instrument of the Spirit for the perpetual renewal of the People of God. While the hierarchy possesses a charism of pastoral leadership chiefly directed to giving the faithful the essential gifts of life in the kingdom (the word and the Eucharist), the religious institution in its multiple forms seems on the other hand to be destined to welcome and to fructify to the highest degree possible all the different charisms be-stowed on the Church in view of. its constant conversion to the fullness of the gospel. This is the reason why all reform of any depth in the Church should base itself on a renewal both of the pastoral element and of the re-ligious ~ life. P(~$ITIVE ELEMENTS When one finishes reading the few pages that contain the twenty-five numbers of the Decree on Religious Life, it is difficult to keep back a certain feeling of disappoint-ment. Does it really go to the heart of the matter, placing religious life in confrontati~)n not with an abstract Church but with the exigencies of the present status, of the divine plan of salvation? Has religious life been genuinely rethought in a basic way in order to bring it into full harmony with the call of the Spirit in the 'world of today as it actually is? Of what value are the numerous practical counsels which are given in the document and which seem"to be overimpregnated with a kind of men-tality that is still juridical? Is there not at times a tend-ency to be contented with minutiae when from all sides is heard the cry of human beings who are thirsty for sal-vation? The mighty wind of Pentecost which blows through the other texts of the Council has not sufficiently penetrated the lines of this decree. Once this has been ackno,~,ledged and admitted~ how-ever, there must not be any lapse into a pessimism that would relegate this text to the limbo of those ecclesial de-crees destined to remain dead letters by reason of their inadaptation. As it stands with all its considerable limita-tions, the decree still contains essential elements that can enable the different religious families to gradually enter upon an authentic movement of renewal. It even seems to us that the decree, in spite of its limitations, can inspire all religious communities to a large-scale examination of conscience--and this is the necessary prelude to conver-sion. For the degree is presented as an official invitation --often categorical in its expression (see, for example, nn. 3, 18)--that the Council directs to religiohs to refuse to be smugly satisfied but to apply themselves as speedily, ÷ ÷ ÷ Point o] Departure VOLUME 26, 1967 425 + ÷ ÷ ~. M. R. Tillard, O.P. REVIEW F.OR RELIGIOUS 426 as possible to a reform of everything that concerns their life of community as such. To be sure--and this is a matter of regret--it gives only the initial call to this, the perspectives which it opens with regard to this difficult task being lacking in a certain degree of profundity. But it has made the call, and this is what is important. It is true that movements of renewal have appeared here and there in religious life. But they have been chiefly expressed by the appearance of new communities that wish to be fully adapted to the actual circumstances of our times. Outside of rare exceptions, the older congrega-tions have not renewed themselves in depth in order t6 respond better to the concrete needs of the.present time but have continued blissfnlly on their way with their constitutions (often dating from their founder or found-tess), their customs books, their manuals of prayer--all of which have been adorned by the weight of time with an aureole of holy veneration. Hence, there exists a pro-liferation of orders, congregations, and institutes whose numbers are perhaps better explained by a lack of sup-pleness in the older communities in face of the need for a real "conversion" rather than~ by a multiplicity of char-isms. Every reform is made almost exclusively by refer; ence to the primitive rule without sufficient account be-ing taken of the calls that God daily directs to His Church by the events and stirrings of human history. It is for-gotten that the People of God lives its mystery in time, that its members are shaped from within by their social context. Moreover, up until the last years, the advice and coun-sel of the hierarchy as well as the exhortations of preachers and spiritual writers have invariably been di-rected to the personal renewal of each religious. He was asked to seek his sanctification with ardor; one or other method of the interior life was proposed to him. First consideration was not given to the community as such in its entirety, in its profound mystery as a cell of the Church called by the Lord to giv.e the world a common witness of evangelical life. For it was not yet realistically grasped that if the Church is essentially communion of life of all the faithful with the Father and ~mong them, selves in Christ Jesus and that if religious life is inscribed in the heart of this mystery of communion, then religious life must first of all be considered in° its dimension as community, as brotherly communion. The quest for p~rsonal perfection (and this is essential for all religious life) can be situated only in a climate of quest for ec-clesial perfection. The great innovation of the decree on religiou~ life is its insistence on the renewal and adaptation of corn-' munities as such. Even though the section explicitly, con- cerned with common life (n. 15) does not sufficiently express the specific quality of religious-common-life (what is said applies indifferently to every cell of the Church), still the text is penetrated throughout by the intention of promoting first of all the renewal of communities as communities in the light of the renovation of the Church which the Council desired. This is why with its authority as a conciliar document it requires "a reconsideration of the way .of governing religious institutes. Therefore, constitutions, directories, books of customs, of prayers, and of ceremonies, and similar documents should be suitably revised and adapted to the decrees of this Coun-cil, obsolete prescriptions being removed" (n~ 3). This way of speaking seems to us to have important implica-tions. It does not demand merely a simple dusting off of institutions, nor is it satisfied with the removal of certain customs that are outmoded. Rather, it demands that everything be revised in the spirit of the Council itself: this is what has priority. Henceforth, general chapters must orientate themselves towards the Council before occupying themselves with the specific problems of their order or congregation. Conversion to the Gospel But the decree goes further. It makes appear---quietly and at times somewhat disappointingly--the great princi-ple which should serve as the basis for the renewal of religious life. First of all, there must be conversion to the gospel itself (n. 2) which is "the supreme rule for all institutes." This statement needs to be well understood. It does not mean simply that everything (the constitu. tions, customs, and so forth) must be judged in the light of the gospel and that nothing should be retained unless it is found to be conformed to the thought of the Lord. Its principal meaning is that everything ought to be established and structured beginning from the gospel. The nuance here is very important. The gospel is the first and fundamental rule. All the rest, even the constitu-tions, have as their purpose and raison d'etre the applica-tion of the content of the gospel to the special .mode of life demanded by the specific purpose of the community. The constitutions do not add ~to the gospel, they are not alongside the gospel; they are only its commentary for the concrete situation of the institute. Whether a person is a Jesuit, a Carmelite, a Dominican, a Sister of Charity, or a Christian Brother, there is fundamentally the same rule, the gospel. It is necessary that this should become more perceptible; especially in the formation of novices where the study of Scripture should take precedence-- qualitatively and quantitatively--over that of particular rules. The conciliar decree demands in the name of the 4. 4. 4. Point ot Departure VOLUME 26, 1967 + + ]. M. R. Tillard, O.P~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Church that henceforth beginning be made from the gospel in establishing the norms regulating the. life of all communities .Jof all types, including "their way of governing" (n. 3). It must not be thought that this applies solely to congregations that will be founded in the future. All institutes without exception must enter into the move-; ment of profound renewal thatthe Spirit Himself is initiating today in the Church. All, therefore, must turn to the gospel as their supreme rule. Conversion to the Eccl~sial Dimension of Religious Life The foregoing leads to a secohd principle of renewal that is equally present in the decree though it is affirmed in an even less clear way: Religious communities must be ~onverted to the ecclesial dimension of their mystery. This statement must not be interpreted only'in the sense that religious should strive to put themselves more gen-erously and completely at the service of the Church (see nn. 5, 6,. 14)or that they should ende~ivor to share the. Church's outlook (n. 2). That this should be done goes without saying, and for many religious families it will demand a radical change in their methods. When the text is read, the impression is left that the relationship of religious to the Church is situated solely on this .level of service: religious institutes represent a considerable grouping of apostolic energies which should not refuse to let themselves be "utilized"; and anxiety is felt lest there be a.certain deflection of these energies to the profit of overly particularized interests. This danger certainly exists; and at times communities yield to the temptation to close, in upon themselves--a situation that quickly turns into a c0unterwitness to the g6spel. Nevertheless, let us note on the other hand that the hierarchical au-thbrity does not always endeavor to integrate religious in a vital way into past6ral 'effort, too often considering them as being apart. From all this arises a tension which should be resolved at any¯ cost. But the problem of the conversion of religious to the ecclesial dimension of their life is situated on a completely different level, that of sign. The decree makes an allusion to this in its inspiring presentation of the three tradi-tional vows. The religious does not make his profession of obedience, poverty, and chastity for the sole purpose of thereby finding his personal perfection nor simply to make himself more available for the needs of the Church. By his vows and the life which they encompass he seeks to express, to signify, to mal~e more strikingly perceptible to the world, to reveal the inmost nature of the very mystery of the Church. Within the' entir"e People of God the religious community thus represents the p~ivileged place where the Church expresses to herself her deepest being. Religious life is like a living preannouncement of that to which the pilgrim Church is slowly marching. It is from this that there is derived the supreme value of contemplative orders of which the decree speaks one-sidedly when it seeks to justify them on the plane of "service" whereas they are completely orientated to the perfection of "sign." By chastity, for example, the com-munity announces and in a certain way mysteriously actualizes the union of Christ Jesus and His Church. By its poverty, the community proclaims the absoluteness of God, that the possession of the love of the Father is for the Church the one thing necessary. By its obedience, it evokes and actualizes the profound communion between the will of Christ and that of the Father, a communion that is prolonged in actuality in the Church, "the servant of God." Finally, by the law of fraternal charity which bonds together all the members and does so in a zealous quest for perfection, the community as such reveals what the Church seeks to become: the total communion of all those whom Christ has made to pass over in the act of fraternal love of His Pasch. Hence, to say that all re-ligious families should be converted to the dcclesial di-mension of their life is to affirm that they should seek to become in the presence of the world a living and true sign of the mystery of the Church and consequently a con-crete sign of what the gospel seeks to produce in the hearts of men. Therefore, 'the religious community is fundamentally and by its very being apostolic and .missionary. It is use-less, then, to get lost in a maze of many details. It is regrettable that when it sets forth the general principles of renewal, the decree neglects this perspective and limits itself to the level of "ecclesial service" and that even this it places after the return to the spirit of the founder; for what the founder desired could have no sense except as situated in the light of the Church. It is by reason of this inattention to the importance of "ecclesial sign" that the directives of the decree possess a somewhat moralizing perspective lacking in theologal inspiration. A single example will clarify this: in place of saying that participa-tion m the Eucharist immerses the religiot,s daily in the very Source that builds up the Church, the text (n. 6) limits itself to the statement that he thereby sustains his spiritual life. The constitution, Lumen gentiurn, and the constitution on the liturgy were less shortsighted in their presentation. Conversion to Attention to the World Another principle of renewal, often and constantly invoked by the decree, is that of a conversion to attention ÷ ÷ Point o] Departure VOLUME 26, 1967 429 ÷ ]. M. R. Tillard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS to ,the world. The Church of God, in whose heart is found religious life, does not float about over and beyond the world; on the contrary it plunges i~s roots into the very flesh of humanity. For it is a Church of concrete human beings, and it has been sent by the Father to welcome and save all men and everything that is in man. Now man is not simply soul and body; he is also the intersection point of any number of lines of relationship that link him with his surroundings, his milieu, the past of his race: he is essentially social. In a mysterious way he carries in him-self the world in which he lives--the world which daily shapes him and which in turn he fashions by his labor and his thought. It is all this that th~ gospel redeems and divinizes. Hence, the Church cannot compel Christians to deny or ignore this belonging to the world; it is the con-trary that is true. Somewhat as the Son, of God has fully assumed the conditions of His humanity (even death), of His race, of His epoch, of His geographical context-- otherwise He would not be entirely human--so the Church of God little by little assumes everything human that it encounters on its journey from Pentecost to the Parousia. It is in .this way, moreover, that it truly realizes the mystery of its catholicity. For it is not catholic simply because it ought to extend to all nations and to all pe-riods of history. It is catholic above all because it ought to bring into Christ all human values, all the needs of men, all their efforts, all their sufferings and joys. Strictly speaking, the Church does not adapt herself to history: she assumes it. All the many variations and reforms that the course of the centuries imposes on it are positive acts by which it discards what is humanly finished with in order to welcome and "Christify" the new flowering of the human. Hence, they are essentially acts of its cath-olicity; they are not measures of opportunism--the yield-ing to this would spite the very nature of the Church. Religious life as the living heart of the Church can clearly not remain a stranger to this mystery of the pro-gressive entry of the Church of God into the weft and woof of humanity. As is said nowadays (the expression is .displeasing to us), it too must "adapt itself." A com-munity that refuses to adapt itself sins against catholicity and thereby disfigures the appearance of the Church. The decree is inclined to see this adaptation solely from the angle of apostolic productiveness: "in order that the institutes be able to bring men more effective help" (n. 2); "in order that those dedicated to the active apostolate be not unequal to their work" (n. 18). At times it. even gives the impression of simply seeking to make religious life more conformed "to the actual physical and psychical conditions of the religious., to social and economic circumstances" (n. 3). All of this is important and even radically necessary; it is necessary to open the windows wide and to air out our communities that are still so stiffly bound up in outmoded forms which n9 .longer. fit in with the actual state of health and the attrition of nerves that the agitated life of today tends to cause every-where. Religious life is not to be taken as an enterprise for the destruction of bodies and of intelligences: it is an institution of the mercy of God. But to see adaptation only in these perspectives of the practical order seems in-sufficient to us. Adaptation is above all-a duty of catholicity: If religious life has the function of signify-ing the true appearance of the Church and of showing forth the ideal to which all the baptized tend, then it should feel gravely bound to. this duty. To refuse this duty, or to carry it out without enthusiasm would be to sin against the Church. Conversion to Respect for Persons But perhaps the newest point made by the decree, one that is pregnant with hope for the future, is its emphasis on the necessity of communities experiencing a con-version to respect for the dignity of persons. When the decree asks who is responsible for the realization of re-newal, it answers (n. 4): "In matters that are of interest to the entire institute, superior should in a suitable way consult their subjects and listen tO their opinion." When treating of obedience, it says: "Docile to the will of God in carrying out their charge, superiors should exercise authority in a spirit of service to their brothers in order to express the charity which the Lord has for them. They should govern their subjects by regarding them :as sons of God by respecting them as human persons in order to lead them to a voluntary submission . They should in-spire their subjects to cooperate in the accomplishment of their tasks and the acceptance of projects by an active and responsible obedience. Hence, they should willingly lis-ten to them and encourage their common effort for the good of the institute and the Church, keeping intact, however, their right to decide and prescribe what is to be done . Chapters and councils should faithfully fulfill the mission confided to them; each in its own manner should express the participation and concern of all the subjects with regard to the welfare of the entire com-munity" (n. 14). Since the Church is a communion of wills and lives in the will and life of the Father and since the religious community is in the Church as a cell in ardent quest for perfection, it becomes evident that theexistence of the community should take place completely within a cli-mate of real communion. In a hierarchical society the word, "communion," suggests in fact a double movement, + + Point ot Departure VOLUME 26, 1967 43! 4. 4. 4. 1. M. R. Tillard~ O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS one going from the members to the head, the other from the head to the members. Communion is never unilateral. It must be admitted that until these recent years the tendency has been to recognize in religious life only one of these relations and to refuse to ordinary religious a real right to participate actively in the conduct of the life of the institute. From this came serious defects and a certain note of autocratism discernible above all in com-munities of brothers and of religious women. In fact, however, obedience, that pivot of the religious institu-tion, cannot be fully comprehended except in the light of the Christian mystery of communion. The superior is not placed at the head of the community for the primary purpose of giving orders and of imposing submission to his personal views. On the contrary he is chosen to serve as a "sacrament," as intermediary between the will of the Lord and the concrete community he is charged to direct. His vocation is suspended between two services: that of the Lord and that of his brothers. For each religious has a precise call from God which normally ought to be ac-tualized for the benefit of the gospel. He has joined him-self to other Christians under a given rule precisely in order to find the means of not leaving this vocation under a bushel. The superior is there to permit this call to blos-som forth in all fullness. His is an entirely evangelical charge. Through the decisions he makes and the orders he gives there should be transmitted not his own arbitrary personal decision but the will of the Lord impelling the religious to a generous response. He is to be the instru-ment of a more perfect communion between God and the baptized person whom He calls. Hence and in the x~ery name of obedience, the superior has the imperative duty of taking scrupulous account of each person in his community and of his talents and charisms. He cannot yield to the temptation (this is easy and, let us admit, frequent) of himself framing the ideal of the religious--a standard to which all must conform at whatever cost. Neither can he consider his community merely from a juridical and abstract angle, taking no account of the concrete human beings who compose it just as they are. His first concern must be the divine plan imprinted on each religious, the realization of which he should permit. This requires him to see even the n~itural talents of all his brothers as a primary gift of God. Here we are touching on a delicate problem for which it does not seem that accord will soon be realized but which nevertheless seems to us to be essential. A purely ascetical conception of religious life--a view that still prevails al-most everywhere--does not fear to talk about a renuncia-tion of natural talents considered as often being a source of self-love and an obstacle to a total gift of the will: "It is necessary to die to one's whole self." A more ecclesial view--the essential themes of which are assumed by the decree--reasons in an entirely different way. Instead of first looking at man, it first looks at God. In the divine plan nature is ordered to grace. In spite of sin nature still preserves its deep-seated quality of being a gift of love from the Father. Accordingly, its values must be welcomed with respect and immersed in the purificatory mystery of the cross in order to be drawn out again-not destroyed but divinized and exalted. A religious life built on this conviction realizes to the full its vocation as a total sign of the agapd of God--aia. agap~ already actu-alized in the creative work of the Lord Jesus and brought through the Pasch to its unexpected and disconcerting peak. Are not creation and Pasch united in the person of Him by whom and for whom all has been made, Jesus, Lord of the universe and Head of the Church (Col 1:13- 20)? As the decree vigorously points out, to respect per-sons does not simply mean to keep from hurting them, from tyrannizing them, from considering them as slaves; it means above all that in dialog with them it is necessary to discern their particular gifts, their personal charisms, and finally to render them a hundredfold. In this way the religious community truly becomes the image of the kingdom. The same thing holds on the level of the major deci-sions which regulate the life of the institute. Each reli-gious, even the least, carries within him the vocation of the institute. Daily he actualizes his ideal of it in the very concrete conditions in which his apostolic action is immersed. He pertains to the community just as much as the superior; and the life of the community depends on him just as much as it does on the superior, though in a different way. Accordingly,. in the name of the common good of the entirety and for the sake of a greater faith-fulness of all to the gospel, he has the right to be heard when there is a question of reform and adaptation. This is all the more so since ordinarily superiors by the very force of their situation are led to judge everything from the angle of authority with its specific problems--often de~ply engrossing in nature. To refuse a religious the right to express himself, to give his opinion, to explain his. point of view comes to sinning against the institute itself, against its correspondence to the divine plan. The superior is bound in conscience to reflect on the opinion of his subjects, to take account of it as a word that God addresses to him from his brothers. An autocratic con-ception of obedience sees in this an attack on the very virtue of submission, on the humility of the religious, and a danger that risks undermining authority. An ecclesial conception of obedience, attentive above all to faithful-÷ + ÷ Point o] Departure VOLUME 26, 1957 + ÷ ÷ 1. M. R. Tillard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ness to the institute of its vocation, sees it on the con-trary as a powerful support. By the communion of the superior and the entire community the structure of the Church is seen more clearly in one of its cells, the plan of the Father is better served, the gospel radiates out its influence. Conversion to Encounter with God in Apostolic Action A final aspect of the decree should be emphasized even though it is touched upon only in a single number (n. 8). The Council asks members of so-called active institutes to convert themselves to a close union between their apostolic activity and their quest for perfection .so that "their entire religious life may be imbued with an apos-tolic spirit and. all their apostolic action impregnated with a religious spirit." On this point a kind of tension and uneasiness exists at the present time. The spirituality given to men and women religious of the active life does not seem adapted to the exigencies of the apostolic life. There has been preserved and transmitted a type of spirituality, of prayer, of common life--the heritage 6f the monastic tradition-- without making sufficient effort at an authentic transpo-sition. From this there results for many a break between the "religious exercises" destined to promote °a living union with God and concrete activity which often ap-pears as the simple radiation of this previously realized union. Hence there are two phases: a phase of contempla-tion characterized as a phase of unitive life with the Lord and a phase of action characterized as a phase of the gift of self to neighbor. The one is a phase in which a person returns to his source; the otfier is one in which he pours out on others the results of this contact with God. From this results the sharp crisis of conscience for innumerable religious whose apostolic task is so absorbing that they reach the point of no longer giving to the time of con-templation all the attention they desire, being exhausted when the hour of prayer or of common adoration comes. Certainly, contemplative prayer is a necessity of reli-gious life; at whatever cost it.is necessary to assure this for all. But we must not refuse to apostolic action its fundamental value as encounter with the Lord; and it is important to introduce religious to the modalities and forms of this encounter in order to teach them to make it an immediate source of praise and adoration. For if it is true that "apostolic activity flows from intimate union with Christ" (n. 8), it is necessary to add that this intimate union is brought to completion in and by apos-tolic action itself. This action is not primarily a danger of distraction from the presence of God ~but on the con- trary is a privileged source of contact with this presence-- on condition that it is a matter of genuine apostolic ac-tion and not one of empty activism. The Christian who is sensitively alert to his faith dis-covers Christ Jesus Himself in the human being whom he loves and serves in the name of the gospel. The short phrase of Matthew, Chapter 25: "What you did to one of the least of my brethren, you did to me," applies not only to love for the poor but to all gift of .self in the service of human beings. Moreover, since every human being is an image of God, to serve him is to serve God in His image. On another level, a religious should be aware that his action is not simply the occasion of gaining merit and of acquiring an ample reward. He is a minister of the gospel; he gives God his labor, his fatigue, and his time in order that the love of the Father may be spread and extended by means of this action. What he day by day accomplishes in the name of his religious profession becomes an instrument of the divine action. There is ample material here for intensifying his deep union with the Lord, andthere is equally present the occasion of genuine and spontaneous acts of thanksgiving. All of this is true, however, on the condition that he has been in-teriorly sensitized to this specific form of encounter with God differing as it doe~ from the encounter afforded by peaceful and silent prayer. Conversion to encounter with God in the heat of action: this is very hard; and it de-mands from theologians, from religious, and from spiri-tual writers an effort of common research in order to establish its principles with precision. And this effort seems to us to be absolutely required for the profound renewal of religious life which the Council wishes. Two SERIOUS LIMITATIONS Thus far we have set in relief the postive elements of the conciliar decree on religious life] In the course of our exposition we have pointed out the deficiencies in the text, its lack of theological amplitude, but ~ill the while indicating the ways that it opens and the possibilities that it offers. ~¥e now would like to conclude this article by noting two limitations (one doctrinal, the other practi-cal) which seem to us to be important. Absence of a Pneumatic Dimension The first limitation is the absence of a genuinely pneu- ¯matic perspective, an absence which explains the little attention given to the ecclesial foundations of religious life which we have already pointed out. To be sure, the Holy Spirit is mentioned: once in the introductory para-graph, seqeral quick references in the second number, in the section that treats obedience (n. 14), and in the one + + + Point o] Departure VOLUME 26, 1967 435 ~. M. R. Tilla~d~ O.P, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS that concerns common life (n. 15). But these allusions are not really integrated into the very substance of the text. They are but slight additions inserted to satisfy the demands of a number of the fathers who were surprised at the radical absence of any mention o~ the Holy Spirit in the schema of the decree. It was thought sufficient to insert here and there stereotyped expressions such as "moved by the Spirit," "impelled by the Spirit," and "under the inspiration of the Spirit." But to sew new pieces on old cloth achieves nothing:, the document re-mains deprived of a real pneumatic vision. From this is derived the impression of juridicism, that the text.still has despite the wonderful gospel overtures that have already been noted and studied, It is entirely centered on the effort of man and is not sufficiently based on the primordial fact that religious life comes from God who by the Holy Spirit daily gives it to the Church. The religious institution represents an original flowering of the Spirit, a permanent charism granted by God to His people. It is a gift of God before being an effort of man towards perfection. And the quest for perfection en-visions more than the individual: its purpose is to mani-fest the Spirit, to achieve a view o[ Him in the flesh of humanity. The profound law of ~His apostolic activity and of His insertion into the world of today (and this is sought for by the decree) can be expressed in. this way: the Holy Spirit Himself wishes to be there where the community lives and to become perceptible by means o1~ it. Our text refers to "the example of the primitive Church" (n. 15). It would have been good to note that this Church was seen by its contemporaries as a semeion, a sign of the power of the Spirit, of Pentecost. For the community exists in reference to the gospel and not to the personal value of its members.: these latter are "filled with the Spirit," and their grandeur comes precisely from the fact that~ they re~pond generously to the mysterious ca/is of His presence among them, Themselves poor-- and here is the foundation of our vows, especially that of obedience--the Christians of the Apostolic community as ideally presented in Acts endeavored before all else to dispose themselves to the impulses of the Spirit and to the difficult work of personal conversion which this demands. Seen in this light, personal perfection and apostolic witnessing become radically inseparable;, and their point of unification i~ found to be the Holy Spirit. At the mo-ment when the Church is welcoming with enthusiasm the apostolic function of the laity and is finding there an essential factor in its renewal, it is necessary to point out to religious the pneumatic dimension of their vocation and to motivate their quest for evangelical perfection by an awareness of th~ rooting of their call in the mission of the Holy Spirit. Their sanctification enters in an es-sential way into the heart of their apostolate because God gives them to the world as signs and witnesses of the Spirit. They are not just apostles in possibility who can be "utilized" because they burn with zeal or are spiritu-ally well trained. They, by their very quest for perfection, are in reality a proclamation in act of the presence of the Spirit in the People of God. A religious is not judged by his productivity but essentially by 'his transparence to the Spirit--a point that explains the apostolic value of the contemplative life. Every authentic movement of renewal should be centered on this transparency. Moreover, in this way there is clearly seen why (with rare exceptions such as those mentioned in the decree) a religious cannot fidly respond to his vocation except in community. It is necessary to stop presenting common life as a means, a support; it pertains to the religious wit-ness as such. For the religious is always in the state of appeal and of openness to his brothers, incapable of truly responding to the Lord if he is cut of[ from them; and here is one of the foundations of religious poverty that theology has not yet sufficiently explored in depth. The Spirit does not arouse atomized religious but reli-gious communities. The vocations which spring up in the hearts of' men He orientates towards communities. Why? Because He is the Spirit of the Church who accordingly creates the community in order that it might exist in the Church (essentially a communion) as a sign and a leaven of the ideal of communion to which He is leading the Church. In its very being the religious community--that is to say, the ecclesial cell bonded together by fraternal charity and seeking to already live in a perfect way the "for God" of its mystery--is an act of the Spirit, a gift of the Spirit tothe Ch

Issue 23.3 of the Review for Religious, 1964. ; PAHL VI On Seminaries APOSTOLIC .EPISTLE To THE PATRIARCHS, PRIMATES, ARCHBISHOPS, AND BISHOPS OF THE CATHOLIC WORLD ON THE FOUR HUNDREDTH ANNIVERS~,RY OF THE ESTABLISHMENT OF SEMINARIES BY THE ECUMENICAL COUNCIL OF TRENT. Venerable brothers, greetings and Our apostolic blessing. The Word of the sovereign God,* who is "the true light that enlightens every man coming into this world,".1 decided to put on human nature for the sake of our eternal salvation and to spend a lifetime among us to show us "the kind of glory that belongs to the only begotten Son Of the Father, full of grace and truth.''~ In the same way He did not con-sider it unimportant to remain hidden for almost thirty years in a simple little dwelling of Nazareth in order that by His prayers to God and by His labor He might fittingly prepare for His apostolic work and give an example of all the virtues. Under 'the loving gaze of Joseph, His putative father, and that of His holy Mother Mary, the boy Jesus "grew in wisdom and age and grace before God and man.''8 Now if all the followers of Christ are obliged to imitate the Word become man, then surely a greater obligation to do so rests on those who someday will. "represent to men the person of Christ Himself both through their manifest per-sonal holiness and through their preaching of the law of the Gospel and their dispensation of the sacraments. The Church is aware that it is the duty of the ministers of Christ Jesus to show themselves as teachers of virtue first of all by their own public example and then by their spoken word; it is in this way that they truly become the salt of the earth and the light of the world.4 Accordingly, from the earliest centuries of her existence, she has taken special pain.s * The official Latin text, entitled Surami Dei V~rburn, is to be found in Acta Apostolirae Sedis, v. 55 (1963), pp. 979-95. IJn 1:9. ~ Ibid., 1:14. ~ Lk 3:52. 4 Mt 5:13-4. VOLUME 23, 1964 257 ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul VI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 258 to see that the young men preparing for the priesthood should be well trained and educated. An important witness to this fact is to be found in the person Of St. Leo the Great, among whose writings is found the following remark: "When the directives of the blessed fathers treated of the choice of priests, they rightly asserted that only those were fit for the sacred ministry who over a long period of time had advanced through each grade of [sacred] duties and who had thereby proved themselves in an acceptable manner; in this way each man's conduct was a testimonial to his life.''~ Afterwards both ecumenical and regional councils gave a certain stability to the ancient customs in the matter; gradually they passed laws and established practices which afterwards the entire Church acknowledged as sacred pre-scriptions. In this connection it is sufficient to recall the sharply delineated decrees of the Third and the Fourth Lateran Councils.6 Unfortunately, however, the evil of worldliness made a continual and deep penetration even into ecclesiastical circles; and the spirit of paganism seemed to revive to a cer-tain extent in the academic world in which the young were educated. For these reasons, the norms previously.laid down by the Church for the training of candidates for the priest-hood were thought to be no longer adequate for the situa-tion. Accordingly, in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries many thought it absolutely necessary that there should be a reform of morals in the entire Church of Christ and that at one and the same time the candidates for orders should be protected from the dangers threatening them. and that their personalities should be correctly shaped by the efforts of judicious educators and teachers in places adapted to this purpose. At Kome in the fifteenth century Cardinals Domenico Capranica and Stefano Nardini made wholehearted efforts to meet this urgent and pressing need by founding the colleges named after them. In the. sixteenth century St. Ignatius Loyola established in Rome the Roman and Ger-man Colleges, the former for the training of teachers, the other for that of students for the priesthood. At the same time Cardinai Reginald Pole, archbishop of Canterbury, urged the bishops of Cambrai and Tournai to follow the example of ,St. Ignatius; and he himself prepared for Eng-land a decree on seminaries which was confirmed in 1556 by the synod of London and which was published on February 10 of the same year. A few years later, a law composed on the model of this decree was enacted for the whole Church by the Council of Trent. This law was contained in Chapter 18 of the reform decree approved on July 15, 1563.7 ~ Epistola 12, Patrologia latina, v. 54, col. 650-1. ~ Mansi, Amplissima Conciliorum collectio, v. 22, pp. 227, 999, 1013. ~ See G. Rocaberti, Bibliotheca maxima pontificia, v. 18, p. 362; and L. yon Pastor, Storia dei Papi (Rome: 1944), v. 6, p. 569; v. 7, p. 329. Since this year is the four hundredth anniversary of that important decree, the memoryof the event should be all the more carefully brought to mind given ~he fact that the an-niversary year coincides with the holding of Vatican COuncil II. For by convening t~he Council, the Church is primarily concerned with"b~tte~ihg the live~ 0f-the Christian faithful by the enactment of suitable directives; accordingly she will. not neglect to give special attention to that area which is of the greatest importance in the life of the entire Mystical Body" of Christ--the area concerned with the for-mation of those who are preparing themselves for the priest-hood in seminaries. We do not intend to describe here.the procegdings that took place before the confirmation of the decree on the establishment of seminaries, nor do We intend to delay on a Consideration of the. individual prescriptions of the decree. Rather, We are of the opinion that the commemoration of the decree will produce greater good if We emphasize the benefits" that have accrued from it for the Catholic Church and for human society and if We briefly recall to memory some of the principal points which concern the spiritual, intellectual, and apostolic formation of candidates for the priesthood and which, today as never before, require a diligent consideration. That seminaries would be of the greatest benefit to the individual dioceses of the Church was clearly foreseen by the members of the Council of Trent since in their thirteenth session they gave a unanimous vote to the document dealing with them. On this matter Cardinal Sforza Pallavicino wrote the following: "The chief matter approved was the establishment of seminaries. Many did not hesitate to assert that even if no other benefit resulted from the Council this alone would adequately repay all their painstaking labor. For this was considered the most effective means available for restoring lost discipline since it is a rule that the members of any society will bethe type they are brought up to be." 8 The extent of the confidence Which the leaders of the Church had in seminaries as a means to prepare for the renewal of the Church and for the increased holiness of priests can be seen from the fact that soon after the.Council strenuous efforts were made to carry out the prescriptions of the decree in spite of difficulties of every kind. Our prede-cessor of happy memory, Plus IV, gave a foremost example of this when on February 1, 1665, he established a seminary for his diocese of Rome; and in this he had been preceded by St. Charles Borromeo who established a seminary in Milan in the year 1664 and, on a more modest scale, by the bishops ofRieti, Larino, Camerino, and Montepulciano. Afterwards, other bishops, zealous for the renewal of their dioceses See P. Sforza Pallavicino, lstoria del Con~ilio di Trento, A. M. Zaecaria, ed. (Rome: 1833), v. 4, p. 344. + + + Seminaries VOLUME 23, 1964 259 ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul VI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 260 established seminaries, being aided in this by many out-standing persons who were deeply concerned for the welfare of the Church. Among these were to be found in France Cardinal Pierre de B~rulle, Adrien Bourdoise, St. Vincent de Paul with the priests of his Congregation of the Missions, St. John Eudes, and Jean-Jacques Olier with his Society of Priestsof St. Sulpice. In Italy particular praise must be given to St. Gregory Barbarigo who worked untiringly and cease-lessly at the end of the seventeenth century to reorganize the seminaries of Bergamo and Padua; in doing this, he not only took into account the norms laid down by the Council of Trent as well as the example of St. Charles Borromeo, but he also took into consideration the pastoral and cultural needs of the time. The example given by this tireless pastor. to the other bishops of Italy is still vibrantly alive even in our own day, forhe had the ability to combine fidelity to tradi-tional norms with the introduction of innovations. An example of this was his insistence on the study of Eastern languages, since he felt that this contributed greatly to the better knowledge of the Eastern fathers and ecclesiastical writers and thereby to the eventual reconciliation with the Catholic Church of the separated Eastern communities. It was such achievements of the great bishop of Padua that John XXIII, Our predecessor of happy memory, recalled in his homily given on the day Gregory Barbarigo was sol-emnly inscribed in the lists ot the saints. 9 A person has every right to think that from the seed sown in the fertile field of the Church by the decree of the Council of Trent there also flowered forth those seminaries and colleges that exist for special purposes. Such are the College of Propaganda Fide in Rome and the Seminary for Foreign Missions at Paris; such also are ~he various national colleges in Rome, Spain, and Belgium. Accordingly, all the places which, like so many cenacles, exist today in the entire Church for the formation of candidates for the priesthood can be compared with the tree in the Gospel parable which, though originating from a tiny seed, nevertheless grew and increased in size. to such an extent that it could give shelter in its branches to innumerable birds of the air.x° Unceasing thanks, therefore, should be given to God that the following centuries, during which in many countries there were ideologies and practices opposed to the doctrine and to the ~aving ministry of the Church, did not see a cessa-tion in the establishment of seminaries but rather a wider and a larger growth of them. This was true not .only in Europe but also in both the Americas; it was also true in mission countries still to be enlightened by the light of the Gospel: as soon as the Catholic faith struck root~ seminaries were likewise founded. Moreover, the Apostolic See has See Acta Apostolica¢ Sedis, v. 52 (1960), pp. 458-9. x°See Mt 13:31-2. always multiplied its efforts to give to seminaries directives needed to fit in with the pastoral and cultural requirements of different times and places. This area, .which requires great discretion, is onewhich the Holy Spirit, the heavenly source of all the beneficial decrees of the councils, has especially entrusted to th~ suCre/he pastor 6f ~the ;Church.n Hence, while we are treating of this matter, We cannot forget to praise the distinguished work done by Our prede-cessors; among whom the following are pre-eminent: Gregory XIII, Sixtus V,. Clement VIII, Urban VIII, ¯ Innocent XI, Innocent XIII, Benedict XIII, Benedict XIV, Clement XIII, Plus VI, Gregory XV!, Plus IX, Leo XIII, St. Plus X, Benedict XV, pius XI, Pius XII, and John XXIII. Since seminaries have been the object of such great con-cern on the part of the Apostolic See and of zealous bishops throughout the world, it is not surprising that they have greatl~ prospefed, ~hereby effecting the greatest benefits for the Church and for the civil community. It was this matter of the great and outstanding advantages produced by seminaries in the course of time that Our predecessor of happy memory, Plus IX, wished to recall on June 28, 1853, in his apostolic letter Cura Romani Pontifices by which he established the Pio Seminary. In this letter he pointed out to rulers of states as well as to everyone inte(ested in the public welfare that "the correct and careful training of the clergy is greatly conduc!ve to the preservation and pros-perity of religion and of human society and to the defense of truly sound doctrine.''12 This same dose and beneficial link between the religious, moral, and cultural progress of peoples and the existence of a sufficient number of sacred ministers conspicuous for holiness. and learning was reiterated by Pius XI in this important statement: "The matter is the kind of thing that is closely connected with the Church's dignity and effectiveness and even with her very life. It is a matter of the greatest impor-tance for the salvation of the human race since the immense benefits which have been won by Christ our Redeemer are not communicated to men except by the ministers of Christ and the dispensers of the mysteries of God.''~3 Hence We gladly follow the example 0f Our predecessor Pius XII in making use of the apt remark uttered by Leo XIII of im-mortal memory on the subject of seminaries: "The welfare of the Church is intimately linked with their condition.''14 Hence it is that We ask all Our venerable brothers in the u See Acts 15:28. ~ See Pii IX Pontifids Maximi acta, v. 1 (1846-1854), p. 473. ~a The apostolic epistle Off~iorum omnium, Acta Apostolica¢ &dis, v. 14 (1922), p. 4-49. t~The epistle Paternae providaeque, Acta Leonis XIII, 1899, p. 194; and see Plus XII's Per hos postremos annos, an epistle to the bishops of Poland, Acta Apostolicat Sedis, v. 37 (1945), p. 207. Seminaries VOLUME 23, 1964 261 Paul REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 262 episcopate, all priests, and all the faithful to express their gratitude to almighty God, the giver of all good things, for the great benefits which have come to the Church from the providential establishment of seminaries. At the same time, We gladly take the occasion of this anniversary to give to all a fatherly exhortation. We wish to remind all the members of. the Catholic Church to be aware of the common obliga-tion they have tobe zealous in giving to seminaries whatever assistance is needed by them. Undoubtedly, the bishops of dioceses, the rectors and spiritual directors of seminaries, and the teachers of the various subjects have the greatest obligation to be concerned for the Complex work of support-ing, forming, protecting, and educating candidates for the priesthood. Nevertheless, their work would be nullified or at least would be mo~e difficult and less effective if it were notpreceded and accompanied by a ready and continual cooperation on the part of pastors and their assistants, of religious and lay persons charged with the education of the young, and especially of Christian parents. In all seriousness, how is it possible to observe the priestly vocation from its first beginnings to its full maturity and not see that, although it is principally a gift of God, it still re-quires the generous cooperation of many persons, clerical and lay alike? Since today's civilization has greatly increased among Christians the esteem and desire for the good things of this world, there has arisen in the hearts of many a less-ened esteem for the things which will not perish and which pertain to the realm of the supernatural. Since this is the case, how will it ever happen that many young men will make a rightly motivated decision for the priesthood if in the homes and the schools where they. grow up they hear the praises only of the greatness and the achievements of worldly pursuits? Few, unfortunately, are the Christians who reflect earnestly on the warning of our Savior: "What profit does a man make if he gains the entire world while losing his soul?''1~ In the midst of the delights and the attractions of this world, it is undoubtedly difficult to apply to one's own way of living the words otthe Apostle: "We do not fix our gaze on the things that are seen but on those which are not seen; for the things that are seen last but for a time while those which are not seen are eternal,''16 Moreover, when the Lord Christ summoned His poor fishermen of Galilee, did He not raise their minds to the contemplation and desire of heavenly rewards? When He saw the two brothers Simon and Andrew busy at their fishing, he said to them: "Come after me and I shall make you fishers .of men.''~v Furthermore, when Peter, acting in the name of the rest of the apostles, asked Him what reward Mk 8:36. See 2 Cor 4:18. xTSee Mt 4:19. they would receive for having left all things for His sake, Christ gave them a definite promise: "I assure you that in the new generation when the Son of Man sits on the throne of his majesty you who have followed me will also sit on twelve thrones to judge the t~4elve ti-ibes of Israel.''~s Accordingly, if boys.and youfig men are to gain and keep an adequate esteem of the priestly life and if their hearts are to have an ardent desire to follow that way of life, it is necessary that an atmosphere conducive to this be created both in the home and in the school. Although only a few of the faithful are called by God to the priesthood ~r to reli-gious life, still all are bound to a life of convinced commit-ment that closely corr.esporids to the norms of supernatural faith,x9 They must, therefore, show the greatest honor and respect for .those who devote their entire lives to their own~ sanctification, the spiritual good of the human race, and the increase of God's glory. It is only m th~s way that the mind of Christ2° will eventually come to permeate the! Christian people and that the number of candidates for the priesthood will have a favorable growth. It is true that the first duty of the faithful withI regard to the increase of the number of priests is prayer to G~d accord-mg to the command of Christ: ~ The harvest xs plentiful, but the workers are few; pray, therefore, to the Lo.rd of the harvest that he send workers into his harvest.''2x F~rom these Words of our divine Redeemer, it is clearly to be Seen that the merciful and sovereignly free will of God is ~o be con-sidered as the primary source from which flows t~e inclina-tion of soul to undertake the sacred ministries. ,It was for this reason that Christ gave the following warn!ng to His apostles: "You have not chosen me but I have chosen you and have appointed yqu to go out and bring f~rth much fruit, and your fruit will endure.''~2 So also St. Piaul, while insisting that the priesthood of Jesus Christ was [greater in dignity than the priesthood of the Old Testament, never-theless taught that every genuine priest depends principally on the divine will, since a priest is constituted by[his nature mediator between God and men: "Every hig~ priest is chosen from among men and represents men in the things which pertain to God . No one takes this honor on him-self but only the one who hke Aaron ~s called ~y lGOd. Much more excellent and much more freely best.owed must we consider the divine vocation to share in the priesthood of Christ, for the same Apostle says: "So also Christ did not raise himself to the dignity of the priesthood., having x8 Mt 19:28. a9 See Heb 10:38. 80 See 1 Cor 2:16. 2x Mt 9:37-8. ~Jn 15:16. 29 Heb 5:1-4. + ÷ + VOLUME 23, 1964 ' Paul REVIEW' FOR RELIGIOUS been perfected, he became the cause of eternal salvation for all those who obey him, having been called by God to be a high priest acco(ding to the order of Melchizedek.''~4 It is with good reason, then, that St. John Chrysostom, when writing of the priesthood, says: "The priesthood is exercised on earth but it rightly belongs to the realm Of heavenly things. For this office was created neither by man nor by angel nor by archangel nor by any created power, but by the Paraclete Himself. He it also is who is the cause why those who are still in the flesh aspire to the ministry of angels."~ It is important, however, to observe that the divine voca-tion to undertake the work of a priest is concerned not only with the candidates' spiritual faculties of intellect and will but also with their sense faculties and with their bodies. This is so in order that the entire person should be fitted for the unde.rtaking of the arduous duties of the sacred ministry. These duties are often joined to hardship; and at times, after the example of Christ the Good Shepherd, they require the laying down of one's life. Boys and youths, therefore, are never to be considered as called by God to the priesthood if, because of insufficient gifts of mind and will or because of innate psychological weakness or bodily defect, they are judged not to be fitted to 9arry out worthily the many duties of that function and to bear up under the burdens of ecclesiastical life. On the contrary, there is a consoling doc-trine in the Angelic Doctor who maintains that what the Apostle said of the first preachers of the Gospel is applicable to every priest. The words of St. Thomas are: "When God chooses persons for some task, He prepares and disposes them in such a way that they are found fitted for that which they are called to do; this is in accord with the statement of 2 Corinthians 3:6: 'He .made us fit ministers of the New Testament.' It is for this reason that parents~ pastors, and all those in-volved in the duty of educating boys and youths must not only create conditions favorable to those who are called to the priesthood and beseech God for the heavenly graces that will increase the number of such; they must also earnestly do what they can to see to it that youths enter a seminary or a religious institute as soon as they clearly manifest and show their real desire to be a priest and their capability for it. Only when this happens will the youths be preserved more securely from worldly attractions and be able to cultivate the seed of their divine vocation in a suitable surrounding. It is then that superiors, spiritual fathers, and teachers--each in his Own way--will begin their work. First of all, they will make a more careful exami- Ibid., 5:5-9. On the Priesthood, bk. 3, n. 4, Patrologiagraeca, v. 48, col. 642. Summa theologiae, 3, q.27, a.4, c. nation of the signs by which it is made apparent that Christ has really chosen these youths as His ministers; secondly, they will help the candidates to the priesthood to make themselves worthy of their lofty task. The educational task to be done in the seminary, directed as it is to the bodily, spiritual, moral, and intellectua~ training of tl~ ~ndidates, is a lofty and a difficult one which is splendidly expressed by the decree of the Council of Trent in these word~: "Nurture them, educate them religiously, and instruct them in ecclesiastical studies.''27 But here there arises a matter of the greatest importance: By what special and indispensable sign is a divine vocation to be recognized? What sign is the principal criterion to be followed in the seminary by those, especially the spiritual director, in charge of educating and training the candidates? Without a doubt this sign is to be found in the candidates' right intention; that is, in the manifest and firm decision by which one earnestly desires to give himself entirely to the divine service. This sign is derived from the prescription of the Council of Trent which decrees that only those youths should be received into a seminary "whose character and will power give hope that they will always be devoted to ecclesiastical service."2s It was for this reason that Our predecessor of happy memory, Pius XI, when he treated of the matter of this right intention in his encyclical Ad catholici sacerdotii, did not hesitate to state: "One who strives for the sacred priesthood for the one noble reason of devoting himself to the divine service and to the salvation of souls and who at the same time has achieved or is in process of achieving a solid spirituality, a tested chastity, and sufficient knowledge---such a one, as is clear, is truly called by God to the priestly ministry.''29 For receiving youths into the seminary, it is sufficient that they show at least the first beginnings of a right intention and of the character required for the priestly role and its duties. But in order that seminarians be rightly promoted to sacred orders and especially to the priesthood, they must give evidence to the bishop or to the religious superior of such maturity in their holy purposes that the latter can come to a certain judgment that before them are persons whom God has chosen.3° From this it follows that an awesome and serious responsi-bility and decision rests on ordinaries since it is their duty to make the final judgment on the indications of divine choice IT Mansi, Amplissiraa Conciliorum collectio, v. 23, p. 147. ~s Conciliorum oecumeni~orum decreta, issued by the Centro di Docu-mentazione, Istituto per le Scienze Religiose (Rome: Herder, 1962), p. 726, 11. 38-9. ~ The encyclical Ad catholici sacerdotii, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 28 (1936), p. 40. 8o See I Sam 16:6. ÷ Semirmries ~OLUME 23, 1964 + ÷ ÷ Paul Vl .REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 266 in the candidates for holy orders and since it is their right to call them to the priesthood and thereby ratify before the Church and bring to an effective termination the divine vocation to the priesthood which had gradually come to full growth in the youthful candidates. This power is indi-cated by the following words of the Catechism of the Council of Trent: "Those are said to be called by God who are called by the legitimate ministers of the Church.''31 In our own time it has been a cause of sorrow to Us that some ministers of the Church have defected from their state; this is a calamity that a stricter carefulness in choosing and training candidates for the priesthood might perhaps have avoided. Hence it is that bishops of dioceses should take this oppor-tunity to weigh in their minds the words of warning directed by St. Paul to Timothy: "Do not hastily impose your hands on anyone and do not be a partner in the sins of others.''32 In the preceding we have briefly recalled what is required in those who are called by divine impulse to the priesthood. This is a clear, ready, and stable decision to take up the sacred ministry based especially on the desire to increase the glory of God and to seek the salvation of one's self, of one's brethren, and of all who have been redeemed by the pre-cious Blood of our Savior. It will not be out of place if We now briefly treat of the things which are useful for a perfect and complete training of candidates for the priesthood. Since these matters are of the utmost importance in the life of the Church, they have been frequently considered by Our predecessors. Itwill be worthwhile here to list their more recent writings even though they are known to all: Plus XI's encyclical Ad catholid sacerdotii;83 Plus XII's apostolic exhor-tation' Menti Nostrae;~4 and John XXIII's encyclical Sacer-dotii Nostrl primordia.~ Moreover, there has been submitted to the Second Vatican Council a constitution entitled The Formation of Seminarians. When this is approved, it will com-plete the berieficial decrees of the Council of Trent and the later prescriptions of the Apostolic See. Beyond any doubt it will give a notable impetus to the work of recruiting candi-dates for the priesthood; but more importantly it will con-tribute to the formation of those candidates by the love and exercise of priestly virtue, by the study of the sacred cere-monies, by intellectual development, and by pastoral train-ing. While the norms on seminaries to be issued by the Council are awaited, We think it a duty of Our supreme office to exhort all those engaged in the training of seminar-ians to give keen consideration to the dangers which can Catechism of the Council o.[ Trent, pt. 3, De Ordine, 3. 1 Tim 5:22. Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 28 (1936), pp. 5-53. Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 42 (1950), pp. 657-702. Acta A#ostolicae Sedito v. 51 (1959), pp. 545-79. diminish the efficacy of the system of training now used in seminaries; they should likewise consider what matters in the training of seminarians should be given greater care. Just as weeds creep into a field that is exposed to every kind of seed, sb there is a danger which seems to threaten the minds of youth more than formerly; this danger is the desire to censure everyone and to criticize everything. What is even more deplorable is the fact that even the youngest are unwilling to bear any restraint whether from natural law or from civil and ecclesiastical authorities; they accordingly strive for unlimited freedom of action. It is not suprising, then, that since the forces of their character are weakened and their aspirations for the true and the g~od are stifled, their sense faculties, both external and internal, reject the needed control of right reason and good will; for they have cut themselves off from the constant and efficacious power of grace and supernatural virtue. From this it naturally follows that young people frequently permit themselves a way of talking.and acting which is inconsistent With those norms of humility, obedience, modesty, and chastity which befit the dignity of a reasonable creature and aboqe all of a Christian person whose very body has become b~ the aid of heavenly grace a member of Christ and a temple of the Holy Spirit. From these indications of youthful superficiality and lack of self-control, who is not able to foresee that in the future these same young people will demand many rights but accept few obligations? Who does not fear that because of these reasons there will be a decrease in the number.of young men who .knowingly and generously desire the priest-hood? Consequently, everything must be combated which is in opposition to a healthy education of youth especially of those who are called by Christ to continue His work of redemption. But what are the means of achieving this? The principal one is that parents and teachers must strive that their sons and pupils, especially those of the more docile and generous nature that is fitted for the priesthood, should be imbued with humility, obedience, and the desire for prayer and sacrifice. Moreover, it is the duty of seminary superiors and teachers not only to protect and increase in their youthful subjects the virtues that have just been mentioned; they must also take care that as the seminarians progress in age there should appear the other qualities of character that are absolutely necessary for a solid and complete moral forma-tion. Among these qualities the principal ones are the inclina-tion to reflection, right motivation in action, the power to make a free and personal choice of the good and even o.f the better, and personal control of one's will and one's body. This serf-control will enable a person to conquer the ira-÷ ÷ ÷ Seminaries VOLUME 23, 1964 267 ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul VI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS moderation of self-love, to resist the evil example of others, ~nd to win out over the inclination to evil which arises from human nature with its heritage of original sin or from con-tact with evil human beings or from that malicious and lost spirit who in our times seems to be increasing the fury of his attacks to conquer, if possible, those whom God loves in a special way. With regard to their dealings with their fellow man, those who--with Christ and for Christ--desire to be witnesses before men of the truth of the Gospel which sets men free and saves them,86 should be trained to the desire for truth in word and action; hence they must be trained to the sincerity, honesty, constancy, and loyalty to which St. Paul exhorted his beloved Timothy: "Do not engage in wordy arguments; they achieve nothing except to upset those who are listening. Let your first care be to make yourself acceptable to God as a laborer not ashamed of his work but rightly handling the word of truth.''a~ In order that the personalities of the young be effectively (grrected, that the evil seed of faults and vices be kept out of ~hem, and that the good seed sown in them may grow into health3/trees, it is necessary that due attention be given to. the good qualities which are found in the nature of man so that the work of priestly perfection may rest on the foun-dation of natural virtue. In this donnection the wise words of the Angelic Doctor seem to be especially appropriate: "Since grace does not destroy nature but perfects it, it is necessary that the natural inclination of the intellect should be subject to faith just as the natural inclination of the will is guided by charity.''~8 Still, the good qualities and natural virtues of man are not to be extolled beyond measure as though the true and lasting fruits of apostolic generosity are to be chiefly attrib-uted to human effort. It is also necessary to note that if use is made only of the principles of right reason and of the norms of human knowledge such as those of experimental psy-chology and educational theory, then it will be impossible to educate and form the personalities of youth to the natural virtues of prudence, justice, courage, temperance, modesty, meekness, and the other related virtues. For we are taught by Catholic doctrine that without the healing grace of our Savior no one can keep all the precepts of the natural law and hence cannot attain the possession of perfect and solid virtues.39 From this undeniable principle it follows that in the con-duct of ecclesiastical life it is highly important that human education progress step by step with the education which ~6Jn 18:37; 8132. 2 Tim 2:14-5. Summa theologiae, 1, q. I, a.8, c. s~Summa theologiae, 1-2, q.109, a.4, c. befits the Christian man and the priest in order that the powers of human nature may be enhanced and strengthened by prayer, by the supernatural grace given in the sacraments of penance and of the Eucharist, and by the influence of the supernatural virtues for the.exercise of which the natural virtues serve as a protection and a help. But even this is not enough. As the Apostle warns us, it is also necessary that man's power of intellect and will be subject to the norms of faith and the impulse of charity so that our actions, being performed out of love for our Lord Jesus Christ, may deserve to merit an everlasting reward.4° It is clear that what We have said must be carefully con-sidered by those who are called to be victims of love and obedience with our divine Redeemer for the salvation of mankind and to lead a life of virginal chastity and of external and internal detachment from the passing good~ of this world.In this way their sacred ministry will gain in worth and will become more fruitful. For this reason it will some-day be demanded of them not only to place all their best abilities at the service of their sacred ministry but also to forego even legitimate needs of nature and to endure hard-ship and persecution in order to be faithful and generous in carrying out their share in the role of the Good Shepherd. For it is only right that what St. Paul said of himself should also be said of every faithful minister of Christ: "'To the weak I became weak in order to win the weak; I have be-come ev.erything in turn to men of every kind so that I might save them all. All of this I do for the sake of the gospel that I might bear my share in proclaiming it."4~ This was the way of acting which was observed by the many bishops and priests whom the Church by her canoni-zation of them proposes as examples to all clerics. These, then, are the chief and principal points of training and of ~he spiritual life which outline the important educa-tional work which is entrusted to the superior and the spiritual director of seminaries under the ultimate guidance of the bishop. But added to this must be the conscientious cooperation of the teachers of the various courses who should seek the full development and perfecting of the intellectual powers of the seminarians. From such a cooperative and harmonious endeavor intel-ligently carried out by the superiors and the teachers of a seminary, there will follow the great benefit of a complete education for the seminarians. In this way seminarians will achieve a level of attainment that will not only develop them as human beings and as Christians but specifically as priests who must be completely imbued with the light of revelation, 40See Col 3:17; 1 Cor 13:1-3. 41 1 Cor 9:22-3. ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 23, 1964 ,?.69 Paul VI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the special work of which is to see to it that the priest "is a perfect, man of God ready for every good work.''e It is good here to recall the statement of St. John Ghrysostom: "It is necessary that the character of a priest be like the light that brightens the entire world.''~8 With regard to the intellectual attainments of the clergy, there must be had a competent knowledge of languages, especially of Latin particularly in the case of those who be-long to the Latin rite. History, the physical sciences, mathe-matics, gedgraphy, and the arts should be known by clerics to the same extent as they are known by educated persons of the nation in which they live. But the greatest intellectual riches of the priest are to be found in the human and Christian wisdom that results from a solid and clear training in philosophy and theology according to the spirit, doctrine, and principles of St. Thomas and in a careful and complete. accord with divinely revealed truth and the directives of the Church's teaching. Such a training is given or comple-mented by the following subjects: scriptural exegesis accord-ing to the methods and norms of Catholic interpretation, the sacred liturgy, sacred music, canon law, Church history, archaeology, patrology, the history of dogma, ascetical and mystical theology, hagiography, sacred eloquence, the fine arts, and so forth. As the seminarian comes closer to major orders and in the first years after his ordination to the priesthood, emphasis should be placed on that part of theology which is called pastoral. Every care should be taken that he have an ever more active part in the life of his diocese including divine worship, catechetical teaching, and the stimulation and con-tinuance of apostolic work. In this way the future pastor of souls will gradually come to an early knowledge of his role and duties and will be able to equip himself for it in an adequate and fitting way. And in this matter it will be a great advantage to him to. have a knowledge and training in Gregoiian chant and in sacred polyphony. Then he will be able to give all his studies a single purpose and to direct. all his activity to the salvation of souls in the conviction that all his effort Should aim at .the coming of the kingdom of Christ and of God according to the advice of St. Paul: "All things are yours, you are Christ's, and Christ is God's.''~4 The more that the men of today seem to forget that all things belong to God, so much the more must the priest shine forth in the world as "another Christ"and as "a man of God.''~5 Holiness, then, and knowledge must be the marks of the one who is called by God to be the preacher and the minister of the Word of God, the Redeemer of all men. This holiness, Tim 3:17. On the Priesthood, bk. 6, n. 4, Patrologia graeca, v. 48, col. 681. Cot 3:22-3. Tim 6:11. We insist, must be outstanding, excelling that of the laity and of non-clerical religious; for the Angelic Doctor tells us: "If a religious is without orders," then it is clear that the pre-eminence of orders excels, in point of digni~y, because by holy orders a person is deputed for th~ highest service in which Christ Himself is served in the sacrament of the altar.''46 Accordingly, the life of a seminarian must be distinguished by a fervent devotion to the Holy Eucharist since he hopes one day to be the consecrator and the dis-penser of this sacrament. To this devotion to the Body and Blood of Christ it is proper to add the other forms of devo-tion that are especially consonant with it; namely, devotion to the Holy Name of Christ and to His Sacred Heart. As We come to the end of Our exhortation, We wish in a spirit of fatherly charity to extend Our congratulations to all of both clergies whowork zealously and generously for the recruitment and training of candidates for the priesthood. Our special praise goes out to those who perform these duties in regions where there is a serious lack of priests and where those who prepare candidates for the priesthood must undergo great difficulties and frequently expose themselves to danger. We also wish to congratulate those who, following the exhortations and directives of the Sacred Congregation of Seminaries, strive through writing and through meetings to bring the training of seminarians into closer accord with the needs of various times and places and with the progress that has been made in the field of education, while always respecting the purpose and nature of the sacred priesthood. This way of acting is a significant contribution to the welfare and honor of the Church. At last, beloved sons, We come to you who are living in seminaries under the motherly eyes of the Queen of the Apostles as the Apostles themselves once were in the Cenacle. You are diligently preparing yourselves for the reception of a power that exceeds all human measure~the power to consecrate the Body and Blood of Christ and the power to forgive sins. You are likewise preparing yourselves for the Holy Spirit's abundant outpouring of grace which will make you more ready for a worthy performance of "the ministry of reconciliation.''47 To you We repeat the words of the Apostle: "Let each one persevere in the vocation to which he has been called.''4s Those who wish to work for the salvation of men. in closest union with Christ and who wish to win for themselves a shining crown of eternal glory must respond to the divine call with the fullest docility and the most constant Obedience. Have a heartfelt esteem for the marvelous gift of God to 46 Summa theologiae,'2-2, q.184, a.8, c. 472 Cor. 5:18. ~8 1 Cor 7:20. ÷ ÷ ÷ Seminaries VOLUME 23, 1964 you, and from the days of your youth "serve in joy and exultation.''49 Finally, venerable brethren, We exhort you and express to you Our earnest wish that the suggestions We have set down here out of love of the Church be carried out as far as possible by you in your dioceses, in the flocks entrusted to you, and especially among your seminarians. The witness to Our wish will be Our apostolic blessing which We give in a fatherly spirit to each one of you. Given at Rome at St. Peter's on the feast of St. Charles Borromeo, November 4, 1963, the first year of Our pontifi-cate. PAUL VI See Ps 99 "~. ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul Vl REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS V. WALGRAVE, O.P. The Contemplative Vocation of Active Monastic Orders Introduction The* following considerations had their origin not only in a personal facing of the problem but also in numerous conversations with members of other orders. The author has had the opportunity to ascertain that the problem of the so-called "mixed life" is being raised everywhere and in almost identical terms,r Religious everywhere are looking for * This is a translation of a revision of the article, "L'avenir des ordres actifs A base monastique par rapport A leur vocation contempla-tive," which appeared in Supplement de la vie spirituelle, n. 65, May, 1963, pp. 206-33. It" is translated by Cronan Regan, C.P., lector of dogmatic theology, Saint Ann's Monastery; 1239 Saint Ann Street; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18504. 1Throughout this article the reader will meet the expression, "mixed life," in a sense that is not quite universally accepted. Among orders of the modern type, by the term "mixed life" is meant the state of all those who lead an intense life of prayer and meditation which overflows into an apostolic life strictly ~.o-called (that is, the ministry of the word, administration of the sacraments, and so forth), with no concern for the kind of means used to preserve or express the life of prayer. By this notion they intend to align them-selves with St. Thomas. However, the latter does not use the term "mixed life." He even refuses (and in this he differs from the more recent conception) to consider as a third kind of "life" the combination of the contemplative life and the active life. Among the apostolic orders which have a monastic foundation, almost all born during the Middle Ages, the use of the term, which they actually borrow from the school of Suarez, is ordinarily limited to the kind of life proper to them: an apostolic life emanating from a contemplative life which is organized after the fashion of strictly contemplative orders. And, ordinarily, they do not speak of a third life but only of a combination of two lives, contemplative and active, the former being the foundation and principle of the whole. In practice, the expression "mixed life" has fallen into disuse. If we now avail ourselves of this situation to use the term in our own way, and especially in its second meaning, it is only because ofa terminologi- Father V, Wal-grave, O.P., is prior of the Dominican Community at Ter-urenlaan 221; Brus-sels 15, Belgium. VOLUME 23, 1964 273 a clarification of the principles and a sharper understanding of the specific difficulties caused by the changes which the sudden evolution of our divilization has brought about. We should not be surprised that the crisis of growth presently running through the life of the Church is also affecting the old religious orders. In these orders too we witness a groping like that of an army which has' lost its way, which gradually finds itself placed in an entirely strange climate, having to live on a newnourishment, forced to face practical problems heretofore unknown. Thus, the religious orders, and in particular those whose religious life is con-ceived as basically monastic, feel that they are coming to grips with a mentality which, at first sight, appears in-compatible with their way of life. They have experienced the infiltration of ideas conceived in a perspective which is foreign to their traditional thought. They find themselves confronting problems which were undreamed of in their founders' day. History shows us that, in its first phase, the spontaneous reaction to such a sudden transition always has a somewhat incoherent character. Very quickly, under the pressure of the general unrest which flows from it, there comes to the fore a liberty of thought and expression which is often disconcerting but which nevertheless seems indispensable in order to clarify the situation and find once again unity of direction. These few pages claim to be no more than a modest contribution to the common effort of seeking light. Certainly the theme is a delicate one, and normally we would hesitate to treat it in public. But this problem is like many others that concern the intimate life of the Church : in the atmosphere of the Council it has been carried to the forum of the Christian conscience, becoming the object of public debate. At this moment in history, we can no longer permit ourselves the luxury of a discreet treatment of long duration. We have to face it in all liberty and frankness. And our conviction that the orders in question, have an irreplaceable role in the life of the Church compels us to meet this challenge squarely. L We Must Choose ÷ ÷ V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 274 It is undeniable that in spite of the strong tradition which has always animated them, most of the old orders practicing the life which we call mixed at present lack confidence in the contemplative aspect of their vocation. Often the con-cM poverty. As a matter of fact, in spite of its insufficiency, we cannot find a better term to designate this very precise reality: the combina-tion of an apostle's life with a monastic type of life. Let us add that we are abstracting, and we do so designedly, from any discussion of the distinction or the relative dignity of the "states of life" which could influence the use of this expression. Hence, we use the term in a strictly pragmatic way. templative practice is so inferior to the formula which the proposed life promises that the need for honesty and authen-ticity, so pressing in our day, demands that we abandon this fundamental inconsistency as soon as possible. These are our. only choices: either return to an apostolic life t~ruly based on a real contemplative life; or renounce, purely and simply, the pretense of leading a mixed life. This latter action implies the abolition of monastic observance. General Conditions Jor Revival If we really choose an integral return to the mixed life, we must first of all, in view .of the present crisis, clarify the situation in the light of the original end of the order as well as in that of the fundamental ideas of the present evolution of civilization. Thus we will be able to cethink and, if neces-sary, to revise the choice of means. The return to the primi-tive ideal aims, first of all, at the major components of the mixed life and the ideal proper to the individual order; only after that, and in a conditional manner, at the particular details and observances. AdaptatiOn to modern conditions has no value in itself. Its influence will be salutary only in so far as it facilitates a return to the authentic ideal of the order and effectiveness in the accomplishment of its specific mission. All this effort of revival will bear fruit only if it is inspired by a lived experience ~f the mixed life end if it is guided by a concern for keeping an effective apostolate united to a contemplative attitude which is more than just theoretical.2 A Specific Vocation One of the reasons why our contemporaries rarely get deeply involved in the mixed life is that they are too little conscious of the important role that the contemplati+e apostle fills in the total picture of the care of souls. This is why the revitalization of this life must be made on the general level of the Church, particularly by revealing it as one of the very first needs of the Christian community. Whereas the members of active orders often carry on their apostolic activity in the concrete context of secular life, prepared to perform within it their important and very specialized tasks, the religious who live the mixed life (while they too are in direct contact with the world about them) have, before all else, the task of drawing the faithful to a 2 By "contemplative attitude" we mean that psychological attitude of complete receptivity to the word of God which the contemplative life (the organization of a well determined life which finds a communal expression in contemplative orders) seeks to guarantee and whose purpose is to open the soul to the graces of prayer. Among these graces we single out contemplation strictly so-called: that prayerful and simplified gaze which rests in the loving contemplation of God through His mysteries and in His works. ÷ ÷ ÷ Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 23, 1964 275 spiritual recollection in the world of faith. By their study, by their apostolate, they are to strive, above all else, to safeguard the gospe! inspiration of the Christian life in all its intensity. By their contemplative spirit they are to radiate in the world an atmosphere ~f spiritual, peace Which allows a man to disengage himself from his extreme activism and the "cult of efficiency" which so often affects religion. Based on a Paradox The mixed life is founded on a paradox. As St. Thomas shows in his Treatise on the States of L~e, it is precisely because of a concern for the apostolic end that one takes care of the contemplative life above all. This means that the community life itself must be conceived of in such a way that the apostle, coming home from a very intense ministry, will return each time into an atmosphefe which easily leads him to dwell in mind and heart in the realities of faith. In addition to the vows of religion, this atmosphere results especially from the following elements: the symbolic and rhythmic expression Of communal prayer, a style of life motivated by the desire of living consciously in the presence of God (that is, religious customs, architecture and decor, ~lothing, and so forth), a horarium dominated by this same concern, continual silence and the practice of private prayer which is not prescribed, exterior and interior distance (relative, it is true) from what is current and passing, a certain austerity of life which tends to free the soul for divine things. In brief, this mixed life involves a measure of monastic life.3 A person can hardly maintain this mixed life and its monastic elements for very long nor live it in a fruitful manner unless he really believes that this formula of life has an immediate practical value. At present it is precisely this belief that is missing. We find a magnificent theory (conteraplari et contemplata aliis tradere), but too often the practice is sterile and without conviction. V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Ambivalence of the Monastic Element Like the vows of religion and the forms of austerity, the different elements of the monastic life reveal an important ambivalence. Choral prayer, strict silence, a symbolic style of expression, and so on contribute to the flowering of the Christian life and the apostolate only to the degree that they 3 The expression "monastic life" is taken here in the broad sense. That is to say, it does not refer exclusively to monks strictly so-called but to all religious who have in common with them their traditional forms of life, such as we have just enumerated. In this sense one can say that the canons regular and the members of the so-called mendicant orders lead a monastic life, though simplified. However, apart from the Carmelites and in some degree the Hermits of St. Augustine also, none of these orders is really born from monasticism. have been assimilated in a spirit of humble love, completely free from any naturalistic compromise. If observed only in their externals and without a respectful submission, they will hinder spiritual development. On the other hand, a fidelity that is egocentric and perfectionist will seriously threaten the authenticity of this spiritual development and, at the same time, the psychic balance of the person. In each of these cases, the practice of the mixed life will be really disadvantageous to the apostolate: it will limit its quantity without increasing its value. Consequently, we should not be surprised if, in our day, we often find that the renunciation of the effective practice of the mixed life and of the practices of austerity which it implies renders the spiritual life more vibrant and the apostolate more fruitful. But the cause of the spiritual slackening which was experienced earlier is to be found not in the monastic life as such but in the way in which it was undertaken, in the lack of receptivity and of humble respect for those things that are ritual or for observance. Ambivalence of the Apostolic Element A similar ambivalence affects the apostolate with regard to its bearing on the contemplative life, If the apostolate of a religious is animated primarily by his need for activity and personal fulfillment .or if it is dictated almost wholly by a secular messianism (whether or not associated with Christian dogma), it will inevitably end by making his return to the monastic atmosphere unbearable. On the contrary, any apostolate worthy of the name will ultimately lead the soul of the apostle into intimacy with God. His return to the monastery will be experienced as a return into a world conformed to his proper state of soul, and hence as a refreshment. It is understandable that at the same time as the mixed orders are searching for a new equilibrium within a civiliza-tion which has profoundly changed, the superiors are particularly concerned with safeguarding the atmosphere of the monastery and the recollection of the religious from an unbridled activism. But the fear of a committed and intense apostolate indicates just as basic a misunde~:standing of the mixed life. For it is an oversimplification to consider that those religious who very rarely leave the confines of their cloister are better religious. If the religious return spiritually weakened by their contact with the world, it means that their formation in the life of prayer and monastic practice was miscarried. This unfortunate development explains a good number of conflicts which find the superior, who is concerned with guaranteeing the authenticity of the conventual life, in opposition to religious who are animated with a sincere apostolic zeal. 4- 4- 4- Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 23, 1964 ÷ ÷ V. Walgrove, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 278 The Monastic Renaissance osf the Nineteenth Century We cannot understand the roots, of the present crisis unless we consider the renaissance of monastic life in the last centm'y. Indeed, it is in studying the nineteenth centu.ry that one finds that the causes we have just enumerated are already at work. An egocentric and subjective sensibility inherited from the. proud humanism of the l~enaissance continued to determine the cultural climate of this century. Even the monks, in spite of ~he thoroughly dogmatic em-phasis which characterizes their liturgical piety, in .spite of their expressed desire to deliver themse!ves unreservedly to the influences of grace, were not able sufficiently to avoid being contaminated by this tendency toward serf-fulfill-ment-- ordinarily, of course, under the form of a religious perfectionism. Now, an egocentricity of self-fulfillment easily leads to a fundamental cleavage in the way we experience reality: on the one hand there is an exclusively rational and artificial taking over of elements that can hardly succeed in giving flesh to the original vital movement; and on the other hand there is a pampered sentimentalism (?eligious romanti-cism!) which keeps affectivity and feeling from really becoming interior and personal. It follows from all this. that the religious orientation' was able only feebly to express itself in the symbolic language of the monastic structure, Also, the combination of a cult of the medieval past with the perfectionism already mentioned led the restoration to embrace the conventual observances of the preceding periods in a manner that was too rigid. Hence, despite the Christian grandeur of the renewal of the old orders, despite the holiness and magnanimity of the restorers, the latter were not able to prevent the slide towards a practice of monastic prescriptions that was too little authentic, and hence formalistic. One became very "observant," but rarely contemplative. Distance from the world brought with it an apostolic absence from the world. And, .alongside a way of life that was obviously severe there was often pro-vision for a number of bourgeois satisfactions. In these conditions, it is understandable that sometimes fidelity to the constitutions had already been very hesitant and defective.This would be the case especially in the outlying provinces or among peoples whose thinking lends itself less readily to formalism or to an ideal tinged with romanticism and conceived apart from real needs. This artificiality will have as its consequence that at a given moment many elements of monastic life, and even the very ideal of it, will be experienced as alien elements, as con-tinually burdensome. A crisis manifests itself, one that brings the very existence of the order itseff into question. The Contemporary Reaction The reaction against the exaggerations and illusions of this preceding period, has led us. to an ambiguous position, one from which we must ha~en to free ourselves. The resolute character of this 'reaction is explained by the fact that it is the fruit of a real life experience. This is the case not only among the young who, because of the coinci-deiace of several factors, have never had the opportunity of identifying themselves very deeply with the traditional observances but also among a number of older men who are still conscious of that period when traditions were. never questioned in a critical manner. Indeed, among the spokes-men for the "modernizing" trend we find some religious who were first generously engaged in the way of the "strict .observance." But, not having been able to escape from the influence of a climate of observance which is perfectionist and consequently formalistic, they have experienced in themselves all the narrow-mindedness and all the danger of lack of balance that this sort of thing can bring with it. In the end, it is the desire for a truer Christianity and a freer apostolic spirit which leads them to reject expressly several elements which .are indispensable to a contemplative way of life. But, what is more important, this same trend has plainly been influenced by deviations characteristic of our age: whereas formerly the temper of the age affected religious life only in an unconscious or unacknowledged way, the contemporary generation tends consciously to identify itself with modern aspirations, espousing them even in those things which are incompatible and unassimilable from the religious point of view. Thus, in appealing to the essential (the end), to the functional (the means), and to the authentic (the intention), it turns back on the recent past as ,bearing in itself the proof of the ineffectiveness, religious or apostolic, of much of the traditional "media" of the mixed life, How-ever, this generation does not note that the partial failure of the restoration is bound up with the precise fact that there was too much of a concession to the unrecognized influence of those same too-human evaluations which, in our day, are drivingus to eliminate essential elements of the mixed life. (It is true that since then important changes have been produced in western humanism: thus communal anthropocentrism has replaced individualistic anthro-pocentrism.) The conditioning of a person by the temper of his age leads to another regrettable consequence: that is, an inability to be mov(d by strictly ~eligious values and to be resonant to their proper modes of expression. This phenomenon springs in part from a too earthbound humanism, with which so many persons who desire to belong to God are ÷ ÷ ÷ Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 23, 1964 279 imbued--at least on the level of their automatic and un-controlled keactions. On the level of affectivity, these persons are in a "closed" situation which, in great part, paralyzes in advance every self-offering movement towards the trans-cendent world of the divine and, by the same token, all commitment. A Contemplative Renewal? For some time now a general trend in favor of the con-templative spirit and life has manifested itself almost all over the world. Not on!y do the multiplication of contempla-tive monasteries (especially in countries which are better off materially) or the monastic revival which is springing up in every diverse Protestant milieu bear witness to this, but also the ever increasing number of studies on the subject :. biblical, historical, and theological studies which treat especially the .essence of the religious life, the original con-ception of monastic life, and its function in the ChmZch. + 4- 4- V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 280 After the Wave of "Liberation" It is true that up to now a general movement of liberation and of return to authenticity dominates the forward moving wing of the Church to the practical exclusion of every other consideration. It is true that this same movement very much holds the attention of the old orders, which are also preoc-cupied with freeing themselves from all formalism and with not living shut up within themselves. But, once this move-ment has achieved a certain level of maturity, the contem-plative or mixed life will very quickly appear to the Christian elite as an ecclesial task of the.highest importance, In fact, when one stops to consider the very secular perspective in which a number of Christians grasp the great ideas of our epoch (such as: authenticity of life, the reasser-tion of effective values, the communal ideal, "cosmic prog-ress"), we must indeed conclude that rarely before in history has it been so necessary to reaffirm the transcendence of the divine and the folly of the cross. Indeed, it is only in the light of these fundamental truths that we can integrate those modern values with the work of redemption. That is to say that at the very center of Christianity we must encounter men who are manifestly living in the grip of God's reality-- contemplatives. II. Primordial Condition: Grasp the Ideal Later on we will treat some of the methods of self-ap-praisal that have become indispensable for a proper func-tioning of the mixed life. But these subjective means have value only to the extent that they can assure a free flowing of the mystical springs of the religious life, that they can help us realize the primordial condition: a firm grasp of the ideal. What good is it to free the gaze of the heart if it lack a world vision, a great cause capable of raising us beyond our limitations? Indeed, such a vision must become, so to speak, a part of one's psychological structure in such a way that it shapes and gives direction to all of a person's spon-taneous reactions. We are thus led to present two theses: 1. The regenerative role of theology. This global vision which absorbs our attention ever more and more will direct our gaze first of all to the reality of God our Creator and Savior. That is to say, the religious will be penetrated by a theologi-cal total view of the meaning and structure of the Christian life. In it will be integrated the results of the biblical, his-torical, and speculative researches that recent generations have produced. We are convinced, furthermore, that this consciousness of the worth and requirements of the mixed life will emerge only in the framework of a renewed theologi-cal perspective. Hence, a theological emphasis must be present in our religious formation and in our religious consciousness. This dimension must be given in a way adapted to the subject from the very beginning of religious life. 2. Continuity with thefou~nder. The particular order to which a person belongs must be understood in this same global perspective. In spite of its obsession with progress and its constant preoccupation with the future, our own age loves to search history. In view of this, the young ought to be presented with the origins of their order, with the master ideas which, from the beginning, have established its voca-tion in the Church and which are expressed in a certain number of its traditional elements. Thanks to this confronta-tion with living history, the master ideas will come through in their vision of the future as a truly contemporary call. Revision of Observances: Return to the Sources or Adaptation? The return to the sources of the mixed life implies a reflection on the profound meaning of usages and customs, of different forms of traditional expression. An eventual reworking will be constructive only if the following conditions are observed : a) One must know how to distinguish judiciously between the difficulty of application stemming from the fact that a prescription takes its obvious meaning from circumstances that are strictly historical and that no longer obtain, and the difficulty which originates either in the passing insuffi-ciencies of modern man himself or in the present make-up of the order, province, or abbey. In this last case, the question to be asked is not, "How can we modify this prescription? What is there which the present group is right now capable of assimilating?" It is rather, "How can we get candidates better adapted; how can we form the members of the order 4- 4- OArcdti~veers Monastic VOLUME 2~, 1964 28! V. Walg~ave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 282 to understand customs of this nature and to have the spir-itual attitude which corresponds to them?" b) The second condition is that the judgment must pro-ceed not only from an historical or psychological knowledge of the factors in question but also from a lived experience of the mixed life that is penetrated with a concern to safe-guard it. This experience can be incomplete on the active side as well as on the contemplative side. In fact, the judg-ment on an aspect of the mixed life can be just as much falsified by an exclusive preference for the elements of the monastic life as by a one-sided orientation towards activity. Once these principles are applied, however numerous the modifications proposed, even if they eliminate some usage dear to traditionalist sentiment, they will not cause any injury to the order as such. Rather, the result will be just the opposite since these changes will be inspired by a sense of the specific purpose of the order and a concern for apos-tolic or monastic effectiveness. As long as these two conditions are not met with, one will argue off the point and will judge to be outmoded or ineffective that which really corresponds with an eternal need of the contemplative soul. This mistake at present threatens in a most serious way the right evolution of several orders with a monastic foundation. Biblical Existence and Monastic Life Among the elements of spirituality which attract the attention of modern man in a special way, corresponding as it does to his own temperament, there is none able to exercise as favorable an influence on the contemplative. renewal as the tendency towards an "existential" attitude conceived within the biblical perspective. Understood in a superficial way, this attitude could easily lead to a militant anti-formalism or to an opposition to every kind of norm or usage imposed in common. Taken in its real meaning (that is, conceiving the order of nature as well as that of revelation as an historic action of the living God who calls me to respond), the biblical attitude of dialogud favors the total absorption of the soul by a personal God, by the living Christ. This personalization of attention and intention signifies at the same time the personalization of the monastic life, of recollection, and of asceticism, constituting by that very fact the best remedy against the subjectivism of every kind which has brought so much harm to the spiritual development of religious milieux. Liturgical Requirements The second element of modern spirituality which brings the contemplative attitude closer to us is the liturgical renewal. The "existential" encounter with the redeeming God is achieved in the liturgy. Now, the contemplative community presents itself as a liturgical community par excellence. The monastic life asks to be nothing else but a continuation of the liturgical action which embraces the whole of life, just as the conventual day should live by the ideas and sentiments brought to it by the Divine Office. It follows that the liturgical~ renewal presently taking place will be decisive in great part for the monastic renewal which is manifesting itself in the old orders. It is, then, of the utmost importance that the liturgy be able to present itself to the religious in a form apt to be lived by them in a personal way. To attain this end it is necessary: (a) that the work of accommodating ceremonial on certain points continue judiciously; (b) that the Breviary be thoroughly revised with an eye to increasing the directly religious value of the texts (that is, Lessons, choice of Psalms and Canticles) ; (c) that, with regard to the Psalms to be recited, we come up with, finally and' in spite of everything, a version that is at once faithful and drawn up in a simple and rhythmic Latin, the Latin of the fathers. Finally, we think it is probable that in order to assure the pastoral efficacy of the choral Office (in mixed orders) it will be necessary one day to adapt part of the Office so as to permit the faithful to participate in it in a direct manner. The "Conventual Brotherhood" As a third element of the contemporary renewal whose conscious engrafting will be of decisive import for the future of that religious life which has a monastic foundation we propose the reinvigoration of the dimension of community. The monastery constitutes par excellence a "brother-hood" united by the bond of charity. The sense of "brother-hood" is the more necessary according as the life of the members is lived in greater silence and solitude. It is a fact that the subjectivism of times past has led us to an individu-alism in thought and feeling so as greatly to diminish aware-ness of the normal connotation of this brotherhood. Also, a stern perfectionism often favored an affective harshness which stripped the common life of its note of spontaneity and cheerfulness. The present reaction against this climate of spiritual individualism is animated, no doubt, by a need for affective liberation. But it borrows its significance above all from the profound need of "socialization" that marks modern man. He wants to live his vocation and fulfill his primary tasks with his brethren beside him in a communion that is really experienced. Of course there are risks. A superficial conception can lead to an absolute "horizontalism," to the detriment of every purely religious value lived prior to the encounter with one's neighbor: a life of adoration and sacrifice lived in silence and solitude. At the same time it can endanger the ÷ ÷ ÷ Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 23, 1964 283 4. ÷ 4. V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 284 original meaning of the vows of religion, especially that of obedience. But, understood as it ought to be, this re,empha-sis of fraternal charity w!ll provide a guarantee of authen-ticity for our personal relations with God. Besides, it will favor a conception of the vows that is more complete, more in conformity with the full intention of the counsels of Christ as we find them in the Gospel. The re-enrichment of the vows of religion with a communitarian dimension is an urgent matter. Authority and the Attitude oAr Dialogue Among the direct consequences of accenting the social dimension, a more communitarian exercise of authority should especially be mentioned. This exercise will be based on an attitude of dialogue, a prolongation of that attitude adopted toward God. The conventual "brotherhood" constitutes at the same time a community of endeavor, united especially in a com-mon prayer and work. The superior is above all the repre-sentative of the common ideal of service of God, as the members have freely chosen it and to which they have bound themselves unconditionally. If the religious has bound himself by his profession to a total obedience to the "orders of his superior, this in no wise diminishes the supe-rior's duty of safeguarding and promoting the communal character of the religious undertaking. Thanks to the social orientation of our age, it has become possible to improve yet more the communal dimension of the regime of obedience. This improvement implies, first of all, a more personalized acceptance of the subject just as he is, in a spirit of under-standing and respect, allowing him to express his point of view frankly. This acceptance will correspond moreover to the present tendency of the young to show their superiors a greater openness of soul and a more filial confidence. Secondly, the evolution we have noted will require opportunities for an exchange of ideas on the level of the group as such in preparation for the making of decisions. Whereas up to now authority has ordinarily confined itself to imposing or determining a multitude of individual tasks as though from the outside, it now tends more and more to become the directing principle of a common task, supported by a common thought and activity. The sense of initiative is seeking to find its place in the life of the group as such. This new orientation is fitted to purify the exercise of authority from every egocentric identification of the person of the superior with his power--though it be often uncon-scious. In consequence it will make obedience easier and more authentic, immunizing it from the spirit of servility or shabby calculation. The unavoidable transition in which we are engaged will be favorable to religious renewal only in so far as the superiors do not give in to the current of a false democrati-zation or of a leveling of the transcendent character of authority and its appropriate expressions. The just mean is the more difficult to find as the problem is rather new. There is the risk of improvising, of going beyond that which is compatible with the rule of religious 01~'edidnce: "as a democratic equality in accordance with which a subject would discuss a matter with his superior until they arrive at a solution pleasing to.them both.''4 But, besides that, an even more fundamental condition is only rarely fulfilled. Dialogue within the framework of religious obedience pre-supposes as a common basis for exchanges of opinion a com-mon conception of the ideal and of its elementary require-ments. Now it must be admitted that in active orders that have a monastic foundation this unity of conception is lacking2 The superior who is desirous of preserving essential traditions in the face of changes that are imposed and enters onto the path of dialogue quickly finds himself confronted with an impossible task: he must raise the discussion of a number of delicate questions concerning the religious life which are, .for the most part, based upon a lack of under-standing of the contemplative element and its monastic expressions. Since these problems are very complicated and since there is generally a lack of a clear and firm interven-tion on the part of the legislator and the major superiors, l~e quickly finds himself compelled to be content with a more traditional exercise of power, thus increasing the unrest of his subordinates. From all this, two points clearly emerge: (I) in general, the coincidence of the crisis of the mixed life with the break-through of the spirit of dialogue has much to do with the precipitancy with which the dismantling of the contempla-tive and monastic regimes is being accomplished in the orders in question; (2) the reassuring or reform of this regime must begin with a renewed insight into the very idea of the mixed life and a renewed recognition of the internal coher-ence of its essential elements. In Quest of Evangelical Poverty The renewal of the mixed life is inconceivable without a rediscovery of poverty. This is the case primarily because the contemplative attitude is essentially oblative, and thus it is in contradiction to our possessive instincts. The purifica-tion of these instincts presupposes a detachment which is not simply one in principIe but one that is sensibly felt. The problem becomes especially disturbing when we view it from the ecclesial angle. Our witness to God's tran-scendence loses a great deal of its force as long as we do not 4 Plus XII, Altocution to 30th General Congregation of the Society of Jesus, September 10, 1957, The Pope Speaks, v. 4 (1957-1958), p. 449. ÷ ÷ ÷ Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 2~, 1964 285 ÷ ÷ ÷ V. Walgrave, o.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 286 clearly appear freed from the tyranny of material wants and the cult of security which characterizes our age. Our better Christians sense this connection vividly, If they suffer from their submersion in material needs, it is often because they recognize therein a lack of faith in God and in the message of Christ. And it is in vain that they seek in us, through our effective detachment, an indisputable expres-sion of this faith. The question is urgent: how can we conceive for religious life an expression of evangelical poverty that is appropriate for our age? How can a real sense of Christian risk be joined with the functional realism we must have? This inquiry, and it is becoming more and more lively, will not cease until the adequate answer has been fofind. Finally, we cannot close our eyes to the destructive misery of the underdeveloped world which is aggravated in propor-tion to the development of our wealth. In our era, when man's awareness has acquired a "planetary" dimension, the desire to live in conformity with the poor and suffering Christ--an essential trait of religious life--seeks inevitably to incarnate itself in a style of life which, by solidarity with His disinherited brethren, leaves flatly behind the arrogant abundance which surrounds us on all sides. Remoteness from the World Among the modern currents Which have a rather negative signification for the mixed life, special mention should be given to the tendency to exteriorization and immersion in contemporary affairs. Now, ih an apostolic community with a contemplative foundation, one must always maintain, in spite of the lively attention he gives to the evolution of this world, a relative, but quite apparent, distance .from things of present interest. This distance finds expression in the cloister, a material and spiritual partition which moderates com-munication with the world outside. For the moment, the preoccupation with an apostolate adapted to the style and rhythm of our civilization tends to neutralize completely this function of the cloister. The principal objection to the traditional viewpoint is that the modern apostle must keep up with the political, social, and cultural events of the day, just as his hearers do, by the many means of communication: radio, television, films, magazines, and so on. Such a conclusion is precipitate and rests upon a funda-mental confusion. The unlimited multiplication of contacts with present-day happenings is not the means that will bring us an understanding of modern man. By modelling our life on that of a Christian in the world, by introducing the mass media of communication indiscriminately as habitual elements in our life, we destroy that very perspec-tive which is so important for judging the true direction of current events. Moreover, we make too difficult the attitude of recollection and searching for God; and this is the very raison d'etre of the whole monastic apparatus. Nor should one imagine that intensive contact with the world will favor the efficacy of. our specific, mission. For the word which takes its il~sp~ration from this'contact only rarely communicates the Gospel message to the deepest aspirations of the modern soul. The resulting presentation may indeed be more "striking," but it will always be too facile as well. The primary conditions for a true understanding of and fruitful approach to modern society are of quite a different nature. What we must have are, first of all, a knowledge of human nature, just that, acquired through a humble self-knowledge as well a~ by other means; an authentic esteem for earthly values which will permit us to be in empathy (free from all religious smugness) with the man of-today as he is; and an extensive understanding bf the formation of contemporary civilization and its in.n.er logic. However, along with all this it would be highly desirable not only to initiate the young religious methodically into the world that the communications media evoke but also-- parallel to what will be said on the matter of formation for the mixed life--to arrange intensive contacts with certain representative milieux of present-day society. Thus, the approach to the modern world will be prepared not by a process of lowering the plane of conventual life to the level of the world but by a better general formation and a conscious and well-guided initiation. Reinvigoration of Monastic Initiation If the mixed life is to be more than a formula and if the contemplative element is to maintain its elementary solidity at the heart of the .apostolic life, a solid initiation to the monastic manner of living has to be provided. Among other things, such an initiation will demand: a) That young religious be taught to avoid all confusion between end and means, between .the essential and the accidental. Let us add that the "functional" or practical mentality, which is characteristic of the new generation, will for its part be able to exert a tonic influence on the spirit which animates observance and worship, b) That the young also be taught to respect the necessity of using means as well as their proper finality and to be attentive to details. This attitude presupposes, first of all, an understanding of different observances and forms of expression; more than ever before it must be shown (in a solid and carefully studied way) how these different practices correspond on the one hand to what is eternal in the needs of man and on the other to what is of positive value in modern aspirations. Further-more, it presupposes an awareness that the assimilation of ÷ ÷ ÷ Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 23, 1964 + ÷ V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 988 rites and observances, of chant and psaimody demand-_ - precise knowledge of various details and an unreserve~l commitment to their practice just as mastering a modern technique does;in fact, in both cases it is "virtuosity" which will permit a person to handle the "technical" means in a way so fluent that his mind, freed by this from all serf-conscious hesitation, will easily be able to turn toward the essential (in the case that concerns us: to aim at spiritual realities through the external "media," to integrate these "media" ever more and more into the spiritual movement of the soul towards God). This line of thinking leads us to formulate two theses in a more explicit manner, which once admitted will profoundly modify the pedagogical perspec-tive of the old orders. Integration of Personal Self-Awareness Very often the old orders consider it an element of their ascetical excellence that,, simply by the fact of their com-munal liturgical and monastic framework, they lead their members to an attitude of religious "objectivity," permitting them to go beyond a subjectivist self-awareness. It would be enough to hand oneself over unreservedly to this framework. This optimistic point of view seems to us completely outmoded in view of the psychological evolution that .is presently at work in mankind. With Rfgamey we posit the thesis that, for the self-aware type of person which modern man often is, a return to a "naive" attitude before the invitation of the transcendent is no longer possible. It is hardly a matter of adopting an attitude of pure objectivity and simply leaving the subjective aside. Many times one can conquer subjectivism only by going to the end of the road of self-awareness. III. Psychological Methods It follows that the renewal of the contemplative and mixed life---forms of life which, more than any other, require an objective attitude of soul--will be greatly assisted by in-troducing modern psychological methods in the formation and direction of the individual as well as in group work both within and outside the monastery.5 It is a question here of methods, basically very simple and human, which are more and more leaving their mark on the dynamic structure of the new society: methods of adapting to the social milieu and the mechanical aspects of our civili-zation, methods of individual and public relations, and so on, The younger generation accepts this very readily, moved as it is by that realism which accepts the complexity of 5 To avoid any confusion, let us say in advance that by the term "psychological method" and others like it we never envision psycho-analysis, which will always be a matter for specialists and which should be used with the greatest prudence. psychological facts, even blazing a trail through this como plexity to a new kind of simplicity, a simplicity that is arrived at by conscious, technical analysis. When secular businesses and organizations are profiting extensively and in a very concrete way from these multiple insights into the nature of maii~ it is unthinkable that we who are engaged in an enterprise much more important should neglect appealing to these same means--and that sometimes for lack of simplicity. For a Better Self-Knowledge As a first result of adopting modern psychological meth-ods, we would mention a Serf-knowledge that is more pro-found and better assimilated. In fact, contemporary psy-chology offers us an analgsi~s of the very depths bf the soul, that is to say, of those unconscious or barely conscious motivations which determine the. worth of a subject's involvement in an ideal. It makes us see the different types or psychological structures which can result from these motivations, the direction that the person's evolution receives from them, and the symptoms whose recognition will permit us to adjust these structures. The initiation into this "motivational" knowledge of oneself presupposes the' elaboration, based on what is called depth psychology, first, of a typology of the motiva-tion which dominates the commitment in question (here, in religious life), and secondly, of a method of individual formation with a view to acquiring a like serf-knowledge. This kind of self-knowledge will make it possible for the reflexive man to rediscover the attitude of spirit, feeling, and body that is called "objective." This attitude will mean for him a psychological facility in leaving the self behind and so arriving at a truly contemplative orientation. Psychosomatic Problems and the Contemplative Attitude Modern psychology has also served to draw our attention to the meaning of a certain number of psychosomatic phenomena.We have not hitherto taken sufficiently into account the fact that they are the symptoms of a psychic (if not moral) selfishness and that they also constitute a serious obstacle to the normal development of the contem-plative attitude and, consequently, of the apostolate it ought to inspire. Of these we may mention: general unrest of mind and body, an always hasty manner of acting, a yen for activity and change, impatience, certain forms of ennui-- understanding each of these traits as a permanent disposition which clearly dominates the psychological make-up of the subject. Indeed, the psychosomatic disturbances in question will often be largely the effect of contamination by the modern ÷ ÷ ÷ Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 23~ 1964 289 ÷ ÷ V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 290 environment. But the mentality and patterns thus trans-mitted grat't themselves very naturally onto the seN-centered elements we always have within us. It is from these thht they receive their stability, while keeping their own form of expression. Hence, to avoid these disturbances or to prevent their growth, we must, before all else, call upon this self-knowl-edge which we have just sketched. The lived discovery of their ~elf-centered roots and the humble acknowledgment of the voluntary element which can be mixed in there will be decisive in the transformation of the personality in depth. In the second place (and only in the second place), there is the question of influencing the psychosomatic dynamism by methods which approach it directly on its own ground. The modern world, suffering so much from nervous over-stimulation, appears to be turning more and more toward a number of related techniques (Zen Buddhism, Yoga, etc.), seeking there, in an atmosphere of quasi-religion and mysticism, for definitive deliverance from its anguish. Everywhere one comes across religious who are seeking in some of these means a tonic for personal dynamism. It remains to be seen how far these techniques will be useful in the spiritual ascent of the Christian--the authentic fruit of grace. Classic Laws o3r Spiritual Evolution The renewal of methods of formation and direction should be accompanied by a restoration of the classic doctrine of the fundamental laws that govern the evolution of the interior life. At present, this doctrine is neglected almost everywhere or-is even unknown. The teachings of a Saint Thomas Aquinas or a Saint John of the Cross on this subject would seem to most people to be of little more than theoretical interest, treating of things which undoubtedly happen somewhere in the Church but which it would be dangerous to try to situate in our everyday lives. Now, it is necessary to bring clearly to. the fore the truth 'that the laws in question' truly dominate the evolution, the success or failure, of life in religion. Monastic life is only a .particular area of application of this same process of as-similation. This means that, just as it is true of the life of prayer in general, so also the regimen of monastic observ-ances and the following of the evangelical counsels can obtain value as an authentically religious expression only through a period of aridity and trial during which a humble perseverance assures us of the purification of our profound automatic responses and desires. Without passing that way, one cannot judge the Christian value of the elements which make up this life. Where, for example~and it is so often the case~monastic prescriptions are assumed only as a social arrangement that is the obiect of a critical regard or a playful benevolence, then they will become in fact, and very quickly; a useless piece of baggage. "Inevitable Crises Sincere personal ihvolvement' in the religiogs life and its process of evolution will inevitably lead a person through one or several cri~es of alienation and interior solitude. In fact, life in a re.ligious house, above all where that life is fundamentally monastic,'makes us enter upon a Christian perspective that is very clear, even radical. Everything there expresses the Christian'.s conversion to God. Intimate identification.with its specific forms of expression obliges us to a theocentric rearrangement of our spontaneous judg-ments, to a conscious revision of our earthly and culpable self-centeredness, a real "metanoia" of soul. This transition involves a man in a kind of migration. For, while advancing into this new country, we are leaving to that extent an old land so close to our heart. The feelings of strangeness and loneliness are only the expression on a psychological level of this spiritual exodus of the soul. "The resoluteness and perseverance with which we go through these often difficult periods express in a normal way the Christian commitment which inspires our presence in the religious house. Thus it is evident that these difficult passages are of extreme importance. Often, unfortunately, spiritual di-rectors seek only to "cover up" these crises, preoccupied as they are with avoiding all discouragement or nervous tension. Now, it is only by penetrating and making one's own the inner meaning of this situation while carrying on a dialogue of love with God that one will come to the point of a definitive entry onto the path of religious or monastic life. Only in this way can the nearness of God and the symbolic world of the religious house (above all, if it be basically contemplative) become for this person a place where he is truly at home. This means that the spiritual attitudes which correspond connaturally to this milieu have drawn to themselves and thoroughly assimilated the pro-fotind forces of our spontaneity. Formation to the Mixed Life It is characteristic of the mixed life, as we have said, that the apostolate, the end of the order, is intimately bound up with the contemplative form of life. Evidently, the harmoni-zation of these two attitudes, contemplative and active, is not easy for anyone. From the viewpoint of formation, it requires not only a preparation for a contemplative attitude (all the more explicit as it will have to be able to witl~stand the skirmishes and shocks of an intense activity) but also a formation to the mixed life as such. This seems to us to imply that the young religious be given + + + Active Monastic VOLUME 23, 1964 291 V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS brief and well-defined apostolic tasks even .before the end of ¯ their theoretical education. This formation should be completed later, during the first period of the apostolate, by a kind of guidance not unlike the "supervision" used in the formation of social workers. It will be aimed not only at the strictly technical aspects of the apostolate and its religious efficacy in souls but also fat the personal problems posed by the attempt to reconcile action with the requirements of the contemplative life. The method of "supervision" is basically simple and .natural, but it requires a technical preparation. Its practice takes much time, requires great effort and a perfectly com-mitted interest on the part of the '~supervisor," Let us repeat here that the functional simplicity which it supposes cor-responds perfectly to the spiritual .orientation of the new generation. Taking into account the daring nature of the enterprise, one might finally ask if the formation to the mixed life, in order to be sufficiently efficacious, ought not to be completed near the end of the first active period (33-35 years of age?) by a return of several months duration to a way of life more " clearly contemplative. This period of "retreat" would per-mit a reappraisal in depth of the genekal direction that one has taken in his life as well as of the various notions that have been the basis of his spontaneous action. In this way could be prevented certain fixations in the realm of our judgments and inner attitudes which often seriously hinder the progress of the soul as well as the fruitfulness of the apostolate. Besides, this period.would make available the time necessary to fill up those gaps in one's knowledge (Sacred Scripture, dogma, or moral) theology which he has felt to exist during the course of his ministry. In general, when in the milieu of the ancient orders such an idea is easily rejected, this is not because (as is usually pretended) a return to an intensified recollection would be something superfluous for us who lead a partly contempla-tive life. On the contrary, if the very idea of such a return is enough to cause an unpleasant chili (another novitiate D, it is because we have never deeply assimilated the con-templative part of our life. Another indication of this situation can be seen in the many mitigations made for some time now in the arrange-ment of the annual retreat. It is true that these mitigations often increase the spiritual yield of the retreat. But this comes simply from the fact that the subject himself has become incapable of giving himself profoundly to a.re°re exacting regimen. Such a program represents an ideal from which he feels too far removed and in which he hardly believes any more. His need for authenticity impels him to reject it. IV. True Religious Houses If an order of mixed life is to be able to live up to its vocation, it is necessary that the majority of its members really participate in this type of life by residing in a "nor-mal" religious house; that.is to say one in which,the monastic prescriptions of the particular order are honored. In many countries the number of these houses is limited to the houses 'of formation. This amounts to saying that in practic~e the "mixed life" is conceived of in two successive stages: a contemplative regime, preparing for a life that is merely active. Even more complicated is the question of determining how large a house should be in Order that'it can provide the minimum requisite for monastic life and atmosphere while at the same time giving its members the freedom necessary for an active ministry. This will depend very much on the general conception of the particular order: 1. In an order whose tradition has always placed the accent upon a retired life in a strongly contemplative environment and that has conformed its methods of aposto-late to that, the number could be smaller than in another which conceives of its apostolate as a vanguard dialogue with the world on the mov, e. 2. In a mixed order where the contemplative life is founded moreover on the communal framework of choral office and monastic observances (such are the orders that are heirs of the canons), it would be very difficult to preserve its proper life without a system of large religious houses (about twenty persons in the Case of a very active order). The Choice o j: Tasks For the mixed life to be the rule rather than the exception, it will be necessary clearly to distinguish between the tasks that are reconcilable with this life and those which are not, whether by their nature or in the conditions of their exercise. In general, the acceptable tasks will be ones that have a directly religious meaning and that can be arranged in such a way as tb permit those engaged in them enough time for periodic and sufficiently prolonged stays within the religious house. From this it follows that the taking on of parish work ought to be exceptional. The repeated appeals on the part of certain dioceses or centers of pastoral studies to enlist the mixed orders into the pafochial framework imply a mis-understanding of the nature of their vocation. In the long run, the Christian life of a particular region, will not be enriched by taking religious away from a form of life that has an authentically contemplative orientation. Entirely other is the question of knowing whether the ÷ ÷ Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 2,~1 1964 293 rather large number of pi'iests living in the religious houses of these orders really means a sterile hoarding of elements that would be very useful f~r the apostolate~if, in fact, their monastic activity constitutes a waste of precious capital. Indeed, even if there is question of fervent priests, the result of their affiliation to a religious house will be rather negative if, psychologically speaking, they have not really entered into this monastic framework, making their own its proper orientation. If this is the case, would it not have been pref-erable forthem to have entered a diocese or a congregation with purely active g~als? This being the situation, if one wants to make it evolve in a direction more 'invglved in pasto(al work, he runs the risk of eventually compromising the future of a form of religious life that is extiemely impor-tant for the Church. Finally, we call attention to the fact that it is easier than it used to be for a mixed order to limit itseff to its specific vocation. The existence of.a number of "active" orders and congregations frees us from having to handle, many apostolic functions for which, in the past, we were the only ones available. A More Specialized Recruiting A profound unawareness concerning 'the ultimate objec-tive and the requirements of the mixed life reigns almost everywhere in the orders in question. As an inevitable consequence, a great number of people have beenallowed to. enter who are incapable of living the life in its specific sense or who are little inclined to do so. The presence 0f.these members is undoubtedly one of the greatest obstacles to the restoration of a mixed life worthy of the name. A more realistic and stricter recruiting of candidates is necessary. It is not enough that the candidates be truly interested in the specifically aPOstolic end and works of the order. Too often the monastic element and the contemplative orienta-tion are seen as secondary to the apostolic element and accepted only as something "thrown in for good measure." Enr611ment under this condition is devoid of meaning. In view of the present need for authenticity, the presence of a number of subjects so disposed must lead to an ever more radical dismantling of the monastic character of these orders. V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 29,1 The Drive to Power and Fidelity to Vocation A group's attachment to its own influence in the Church is bne of the most frequent causes of an order's estrangement from its primitive vocation. Social psychology has convincingly shown how the drive to power can unconsciously inspire even altruistic and well-intentioned plans. It is this same process which is more or less at work in every society, not excluding the most sacred, and it constitutes that "too human" aspect of it which we must understand but never approve. Orders of-mixed life are especially, vulnerable to this tendency because they have to .defend their clearly contem-plative attitude against the pressure of an apostolic posture which is very conspicuous in the Church. The presence.of this danger is seen in the following practices: taking on tasks that are too numerous or unsuitable to the specific vocation; a view of the apostolate that is spontaneously in a spirit of competition; multiplication of small houses; lack of discretion in admitting 9andidates for the sake of numeri-cal success; a distorted presentation ofthe order's ideals, and so forth. The Christian world is less and less inclined tO accept in the Church and in the religious orders this com-promise between moral authority and the drive--whether conscious or unconscious !o domination. Consequently, the orders will see themselves obliged to conceive of their corporate orientation in a more spiritualized, more evangeli-cal manner so that the sense of their size and concern for their influence will no longer exert such pressure on fidelity to their ideal. The future of the mixed life can only gain from this. Are the Mixed Orders Too Numerous? Once we admit the ideal and logic of the mixed life in all their intransigence, we can no longer keep from asking whether the number of these orders is not too great to allow each to respond fully to its vocation. For the person who attaches more importance to spiritual fecundity than to the natural tendency to survival, the question is only too serious. Let us add two points which throw light on the import Of the problem. On the one hand there is the already wide-spread difficulty the contemplative life experiences in supporting itself in the midst of the contemporary world. On the other, it must be remembered that almost all the great orders of the Middle Ages have taken new life while a considerable number of new congregations have arisen by their side, each of them seeking to attract the necessary candidates. ÷ ÷ ÷ Acti~ Monasti~ Orders VOLUME 23s 1964 THOMAS DHBAY, S.M. Updating Puzzlements Thoma~ Duba]~, S~M., is spiritual dr-rector at Notre Dame Seminary; 2901 South Carroll-ton Avenue; New Orleans 18, Louisi-ana. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Anyone even mildly acquaintedwith the thinking of our American sisters in these mid-sixties is aware that there is.a steadily increasing and animated discussion among them dealing with projected apostolic changes in the life of religious women. And as his acquaintance is deepened, he becomes aware that the sisters'-reaction spectrum to the current theory and practice of apostolic adaptation ranges all the way from an eager, impatient enthusiasm through a wait and see interest to a fearful apprehension that the new is going to swamp the old. In our view the overall situation is healthy and the discus-sion beneficial; but, as is commonly the case, not everything that fs being said is of equal value. Some of it is occasioning pet~plexity--and, in a few instances, we think anxiety not too strong a word--among a significant number of our sisters. Even though disturbance is not absent among older religious, we are particularly concerned with the yotinger. Despite their great good will and partially because of it, these latter are especially susceptible to harm resulting from uncertainties in their formation and clashing theories in their reading. Our purpose here is threefold. We wish first of all to suggest two or three formulations of the updating adaptation problem, not merely in. general but as it affects the typical individual religious. Then we propose to set down as .we understand them the causes of the impatience of one group of sisters and the reasons for the fears of a second group. Finally we shall trace out the general lines of procedure which Sacred Scripture and the magisterium of the Church present as guides to religious communities in their actual efforts at aggiornamento. Formulations of the Problem In its popular form our puzzlement may be said to con-sist in conflict between the new and the old in contemporary religious life. Constitutions are currently being modified by general chapters. Some religious feel that the changes are not drastic enough; others are persuaded that they are too drastic. Some have no set opinion but simply wonder what is essential and what is not. This popular perplexity is sharpened by newly appearing books and articles and addresses that recommend apostolic practices at variance with traditional approaches. Many sisters could hardly be more wholehearted in their agreement with the recommen-dations, while others wonder whether they will work with women. The tension is heightened when in a given congrega-tion the difference in apostolic viewpoint (or 15erhaps it is occasionally more a difference in judgments of feasibility) takes the shape of superiors on one side and subjects on the other. A more basic formulation of our problem is rooted in two distinct scriptural streams of spirituality which for our purposes we may style individualistic-contemplative and social-active. The first current lays great stress on the soul's inner life with God, solitary, sheltered, intense, delightful. There are many more instances of this thought pattern :in the Old Testament than we may easily instance here. "One thing I ask of the Lord; this I seek: to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, that I may gaze on the loveliness of .the Lord . Of you my heart speaks. [The new Latin for verse 8 is clearer than the English: "Tibi loquitur cot meum."] . How precious is your k.indness, O God ] The children of men take refuge in the shadow of your wings. They have their fill 6f the prime gifts of your house. ¯. Only in God be at rest, my soul. When I am with you, the earth delights me not . For indeed, they who withdraw from you perish .But for me, to be near God is my good; to make the Lord God my refuge.''1 This hid-denness- individualist current is, if anything, even more pronounced in the New Testament. The thirty-year example of the eternal Word is vastly impressive, to say nothing of His forty-day retreat and His habit of spending whole nights on the mountain during His public apostolate. What He did in His life He taught in His words, for He judged Mary who merely sat and drank of His wisdom better off than the busy Martha. And St. John tells us, "Do not love the world, or the things that are in theworld" (1 Jn 2:15), while St. Paul admonishes us not to have a taste for this world but rather to seek what is above and thus be hidden with Christ in God." "Therefore, if you have risen with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Mind the things that are above, not the things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God" (Col 3:1-3). The second stream of scriptural spirituality is found especially in the New Testament and its emphasis is on the kerygmatic proclamation of the word to the whole of man- ~ Ps 26:4,8; 35:8-9; 61:6; 72:25,27-8. ÷ ÷ ÷ U~dating Pu=lements VOLUME 2~, 1964 297 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS kind. The precept was given by the eternal Word Himself: "Go into the whole world and preach the gospel to every creature" (Mk 16:15). Its seriousness was more than once underlined by Paul in his words as well as in his life. "How then are they to call upon him in whom they have not believed? But how are they to believe him whom they have not heard? And how are they to hear, if no one preaches?" (Rom 10:14). "For woe to me if I do not preach the gospel !" (1 Cor 9:16). "I charge thee, in the sight of God and Christ Jesus, who will judge the living and the dead b~i his coming and by his kingdom, preach the word, be urgent in season, out of season; reprove, entreat, rebuke with all patience and teaching" (2 Tim 4:1-2). Brought up to date, this formulation of our sisters' apos-tolic puzzlement bears on the relative positions of prayer and work in the contemporary setting. And the pat answer, "a due time for both," does not answer all the sub-questions : Do religious women spend too much time in mental prayer? Is there such a thing as "apostolic mental prayer"? Should active communities still say the Office in choir? If so, how much of it? If not, what shall supply for the nourishment the Office formerly gave their souls? The third formulation of our perplexity centers on the actual mission state of the world today. In this shape the problem may be presented as a comparison between a single verse of Scripture and a few hard facts of twentieth century reality. The scriptural aspect of this formulation is the unvarnished divine precept that the glad tidings be preached to every creature: "Go into the whole world and preach the gospel to every creature," The hard facts which, seen under the light of this verse, should cause a keen discomfort are, first of all, that two thousand years later less than twenty percent of the world has so far accepted the full message. And secondly, the non-Catholic world, we are told, is in-creasing more rapidly than the Catholic. Still more, we have nowhere in sight a number of religious and priestly vocations. sufficient to cope either with 500 million faithful or the over two billion still outside the Mystical Body. To compound a nightmarish situation is the fourth fact of an appalling apathy on the part of the .majority of our Catholic laymen and laywomen. Now the comparison between the divine precept and the human facts sets in bold relief the final formulation of our puzzlement: Given the staggering situation of our missionary condition, how can we rightly continue to emphasize the cozy, contemplative, self-contained elements in the religious life? Should not the sister's dominating passion be the proclamation of the word? Does not aggiornamento demand that religious face the contemporary scene as it exists? Causes of Impatience We can perhaps trace out the reasons for a certam unrest among many religious women according to th~ three ways we have formulated the problem. It seems t~ us that a noteworthy number of sisters are dissatisfied ~ith some of the prescriptions of their ~onstitutions and Customs. Some feel that their religio~s habit is archaic and th.at even as it has been modified it remains an impediment to attaining an easy rapport with modern men and women, especially non-Catholic men and women. To many sisters the rule that they go out only two by two is consonant neither with the much freer status of contemporary woman nor with the actual .needs of the apostolate. The many permissions re-quired in convent life seem to be out of harmony both with the greater independence of women in our day and with like situations among religious men. These causes ofim-patience and others like them are sharpened when the sister subject not only sees no adequate adaptation in her com-munity but no great inclination in the administratiOn to initiate steps to attain it. Tl~e second type of reason for disquiet is a discontent with the present allocations to prayer and work in active congre-gations. We do not mean that religious are uninterested in prayer; but we do mean that some of them feel that the amount of time to be given to prayer, and especially vocal prayer, needs to be cut down. Many would like to pare down community vocal prayers, and some would extend the paring process also to the DiVine Office and even perhaps to mental prayer. The final reasons for impatience cluster about the manner in which religious women are as a matter of fact carrying out the gospel command to preach the word to every crea-ture, including the billions of souls still outside the Mystical Body. While we are confident that many sisters decidedly desire to work with children and would feel both uncomfort-able and inept with adults, there are others who prefer to work with mature people and thus get to "every creature" more directly. We think, too, that a large number of reli-gious are unsatisfied with the indirect apostolate of teaching English and arithmetic, of keeping hospital records and supervising nurses, and rather wish to spend themselves in an immediate apostolate of supernatural contact with souls. These sisters feel that they and their companions could be used more effectively by leaving the indirect apostolate to laywomen and rather engaging themselves in reaching directly the vast populations of adult women still little touched by the Church. The impatience here is rooted in what appears to be an obsolete and ineffective use of the apostolic resources of our consecrated women. ÷ ÷ ÷ Updating Pu~lements VOLUME 23~ 1964 299 ÷ Thomas Duba~, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Causes of Fear At the opposite end of what we have called the reaction spectrum to apostolic aggiornamento lie varying degrees of fear regarding adaptations that have already occurred or, perhaps more frequently, regarding others that are merely being proposed and discussed. We may note in passing that sisters who entertain these fears are by no means unsym-pathetic as a group either to the theory or the fact of adapta-tion. They see the likely good but are also concerned about the likely harm. What are these fears? We would distinguish three main bases for apprehension concerning current developments in updating approaches to the apostolate of religious women. The first of these bases is the simple fact that many sisters are not capable either natively or by training background to work effectively with adult women. The apprehension arises from the suspicion that religious now working fruitfully with children would perhaps be transferred to occupations for which they are prepared neither by disposition nor by education. The second cause of updating anxiety centers on the alleged inability of women to live holy religious lives without the safeguards with which their, rules have traditionally surrounded them. Without taking a position regarding this fear, we can say at least this much that not all sisters are convinced of the advisability of rule modifications which open the way to considerably more and longer contacts with the world. One might object that even sisters have to take risks, but this would be met with the rejoinder, "Yes, but how many? When do we reach the point where contacts in the world will do more harm than good to religious and their work?" At least some sisters see a problem here. Perhaps the most frequently occurring and the deepest reason for disquiet lies in the area of mental prayer and the need for solitude. Despite verbal assurances to the contrary, both formation and inservice policy recommendations by the mounting attention they give to a tension and time packed apostolate seem to these religious to be making slow inroads on a calm prayer life with the indwelling Trinity. There seems to be a clash between new apostolic emphases and the age-old Catholic insistence just recently reiterated that the first duty for a religious, even for a religious belonging to an Institute of active life or of mixed life is then to give himself to God in contemplation and out of love for him. Service of the neighbor" comes second only, in so far as he needs it and as the re-ligious is in fact entrusted with it by his Superiors? 2 Archbishop Paul Philippe, The Ends of the Religious Life according to Saint Thomas Aquinas (Athens: Fraternity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, 1962), p. 72. Archbishop Philippe is secretary of the Sacred Congrega-tion of Religions. Some of our ~isters are wondering why, if contemplative love is primary in the religious state, the contemporary trend is toward reducing rather than increasing the time available for its peaceful practice. Or to ask an allied question, if as Plus XI declared, a hidden life of prayer, love, and suffering is a more fruitful apostolate for souls than active works are, why are we meeting our apostolic challenges with a greater emphasis on action than on contemplation? Such, then, are the causes of impatience on the one hand and fear on the other that we have found among American sisters. We propose now to suggest some general norms of procedure which according to Sacred Scripture and the teaching Church are sound guides for resolving in broad outline some of the questions we have raised. Guides for Apostolic Updating First principle: the Trinity is the source oaf apostolate. The re-ligious who steps into a classroom or a hospital ward does not enter her working domain as a private person, as. the former Mary Jones or even as the present Sister Mary Teresa. She enters as a member of a supernatural team, a religious community on which the Church has bestowed a mandate. She is a sent person, a commissioned person. Im-mediately she is sent by her major superior, intermediately by the Roman Pontiff and the local ordinary, ultimately by God Himself. Her religious superiors have the. authority to mission her because they have received a share in the pope's universal jurisdiction, and th~ pope has his authority from Christ Himself, and Christ has it from the Father. "As the Father has sent me, I also send you" ~Jn 20:21). The sister; therefore, engages in her apostolate as one sent by the very Trinity abiding in her heart through supernatural knowl-edge and love. It is highly fitting, then, that she live in close union with the abiding fountain of all apostolic fecundity. Our first principle for solving our apostolic problems is, consequently, that the indwelling Trinity is the starting point of external works. Second pdndple: the sisters' apostolic methods must meet con-temporary needs as they actually are. It is axiomatic in scholastic philosophy that whatever is received is received after the matter of the receiver. A man who tries to cut a sheet of steel as though he were dealing with paper is going to have his problems. A religious community which operates in the mid-twentieth century as though it were working in the mid-nineteenth is going to run into some dead-end streets. The Gospels themselves were written differently according to the manner of the receivers. Matthew wrote in one fashion for his fellow countrymen in Palestine, Mark and Luke tailored their approaches to Gentile converts, while John proposed to write a theologically orientated account against the Docetists and styled his Gospel accordingly. Religious ÷ ÷ ÷ opaating Puzzleracnts VOLUME 23, 1964 301 + ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~0~ communities surely cannot afford to do less in meeting contemporary needs in a contemporary manner. The Holy See itself has said so much in the last two decades about the need for adaptation in the religious life that for us to say more would be to labor the point. Hence, our second prin-ciple is patent: however we are to meet updating tensions, our solutions will have to face and answer real problems as they now exist. Thirdprinciple." prayer, love, and suffering are the most Jruitful apostolate. This third guide to unraveling unrest and ap-prehension in adapting to modern needs is taken bodily from the teaching of Pope Pius XI. Speaking on the occasion of the canonization of a religious whose community neither teaches nor nurses, the Discaleed Carmelite nuns, tl-ie Holy Father remarked: "These are the most pure an~l the most lofty souls in the Church, who by suffering, loving and praying in a hidden apostolate hold the first place in bene-fiting all men.''3 Approving the Carthusian statutes a decade earlier in 1924, the same pontiffhad said perhaps even more strikingly that it is "easy to understand how they who assiduously fulfil the duty of prayer and penance contribute much more to the increase of the Church and the welfare of mankind than those who labor in tilling the .Master's field.''4 Several centuries earlier St. John of the Cross had taught the same truth in his own limpid manner: "A very little of this pure love is more precious in the eyes of God and the soul, and of greater profit to the Church, even though the soul appear to be doing nothing, than are all. these works t0gether,''~ Now if we pay this teaching more than lip service, we must in the actual ordering of the contemplative and work-ing aspects of active religious congregations recognize the primacy of the former not only in the sanctification of the individual religious but even in the sanctification ~ the souls . committed to her care. We have got to work, to be sure, and work hard. Woe to us if we do not preach the Gospel. But all the same, if praying, loving, and suffering are the most fruitful apostolate in the Church, we religious have got to be before all else contemplative sufferers or suffering con-templatives. Hence, to aim at updating constitutions, rules, and horaria on any other basis is simply to miss the point. If getting our religious women to mix more with the world is going to damage their love and prayer, the mixing must yield, not the love and prayer. If newly undertaken activi-ties are going to so wear a sister out t

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

Issue 17.1 of the Review for Religious, 1958. ; A. M. D. G. Review for Religious JANUARY 15, 1958 Retreats in Retrospect Thomas Dubay Spiritual Cancer . Francis ~1. Macl:ntee Roman Documents . R. I:. Smith Book Reviews Questions and Answers For You~ Information VOLUME 17 NUMBER 1 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS VOLUME 17 JANUARY, 1958 NUMBER 1 CONTENTS RETREATS IN RETROSPECT--Thomas Dubay, S.M .3 FOR YOUR INFORMATION .34 SPIRITUAL CANCER--Francis J. MacEntee, s.j .3.7 SURVEY OF ROMAN DOCUMENTS--R. F. Smith, S.J .4.2 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 50 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS: Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana . 51 SOME BOOKS RECEIVED . 59 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS: 1. Preferred Mass on a Ferial Day of Lent . 60 2. When Does an Anticipated Renewal of Vows Begin to Run?. 60 3. Personal Gifts and Poverty . 61 4. Saving Money for Desired PuFposes . 62 5. Permission Required for Minor Necessities . 64 6. Elimination of Precedence in the Refectory . 64 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, January, 1958. Vol. 17, No. 1. Published bi-monthly by The Queen's Work, 3115 South Grand Blvd., St. Louis 18, Mo. Edited by the Jesuit Fathers bf 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, 1958, 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. Review t:or Religious Volume 17 January--Deceml~er, 1958 Ecllt:ed by THE JESUIT FATHERS St. Mary's College St. Marys, Kansas Published by. THE QUEEN'S WORK SI=. Louis, Missouri REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is indexed in the CATHOLIC PERIODICAL INDEX Retreats in Retrospect Thomas Dubay, S.M. IN SIX RECENT issues of this REVIEW~ seven hundred sisters told with considerable detail what they think about the prob-lem of more fruitful retreats for religious. This temperately told tale was no trite tally, for the sisters expounded their posi-tions with logic and insight. Yet all the same, we still lack an adequate analysis and evaluation of their views, without which, of course, the study remains truncated. But even more im-portant, we also lack solutions to many ot~ the problems they raised. This present article aims at contributing a mite toward the filling of both needs.2 I shall not, however, attempt to discuss every problem unearthed by the study, but those only whose solution is most signific~tnt and pressing. These latter we will review in the order in which they occurred in the original articles. Source of Retreat Masters Where ought religious communites to get their retreat mas-ters? From religious communities, manifestly. But which? Ought retreats to be given by priests from the same order each year or by priests from different orders? Most of the sisters queried favored the latter choice. As I went through the sisters' stated preferences regarding the sources of retreat masters, the overall impression I received was one of dissatisfaction with a current tendency to rigid uniformity. This dissatisfaction, while not universal, was especially noticeable in those congregations which are not attached to any order of men but nonetheless re-ceive retreat masters t?rom one order alone. Only 11.3% of the sisters belonging to these communities positively liked their custom, 73% positively disliked it, and 15.7% were indifferent. 1R£VIEW gOR RELIGIOI./$~ January through November, 1956. 2The reader will note that much of our discussion is pertinent to the retreats of all religious, men and women alike. THOMAS DUBAY Review for Religious Even among sisters attached to a religious order of men, 18.75% desired retreat masters from other orders at least occasionally, while another 18.75% were indifferent to the source of priests. The remainder preferred all priests to come from their own order. We may conclude that among religious women unat-tached to any order of men the vast majority prefer their retreat masters to come from different congregations each year. Among sisters affiliated with an order of men a notable minority like an "outsider" at least occasionally. With these opinions I must register a hearty agreement. But before delving into the realm of reasons I would like to clarify the position .here taken. I do not hold that a change of ordereach year is necessarily desira.ble, even for religious attached to no order of men. So frequent a change may be helpful, or it may not be. If one order consistently furnishes more skilled or more holy priests, there is no reason in the wide world why that order should no~ be tapped more often than others. Secondly, for sisters attached to a religious order of men I think that the usual retreat master should be a priest from their own order: a Dominican for Dominicans, a Trinitarian for Trinitarians, and so on. A majorityof sisters in these groups desire this arrangement, and their desire should be respected insofar as it is compatible with the preferences, of the minority. The formers' reasoning is i, alid: they feel that their, own priests bettei understand their spirit and way of life and hence can direct them more effectively. Since this is ordinarily true, the usual retreat for such. religious ought to be given by a priest belonging to their own order. However, since a sizeable number of these same religious women desire atlease an occasional change, I think that an outside priest should be invited every few years. Reason-able wishes e~cen of minorities should be respected, and this wish is reasonable. Now why is it desireable for retreat masters to be chosen from a number of different orders of men? First of all, the 4 January, 1958 I~ETREATS IN RETROSPECT supply of really top-flight retreat masters in any religious con-gregation is limited. This observation bespeaks defect in no order, since it simply reflects the fact that human abilities are distributed according to a normal curve. TO my knowledge no order is bursting at the seams with men highly gifted with the specialized talents needed for successful retreat work. If a community chooses its. retreat masters exclusively from one order of men, and especially from one province of that order, it may in time exhaust the supply of the best. A partial solution to this difficulty is the return of the good retreat master. When such can be arranged, and when the priest' has another set of meditations and conferences available, there seems to be no rea-son why he should not be invited for a second or third retreat. After all, a priest of proven ability is a far more secure risk than an unknown quantity. A second reason beckoning variety--and to my mind, a much more potent one than the first--is the danger of insularity. If we religious, men and women alike, are perfectly frank with ourselves, we will have to admit that we too often tend to horizon our outlook to our house, our province, our congregation. We may not intend it, but we do incline that way. We tend to insularity in our works, our "devotions," our interests, our spirit. In something of this context Thomas Merton refers to "the tyranny of restricted human systems and 'schools of spirituality' that might tend to narrow us down to a particular esoteric out-look and leave us something less than Catholic.''3 No one order .of men or women has a monopoly on helpful approaches to the love of God. We have a special love for our own society. Fine, we should. But we should also be interested in the works, the interests, the devotions, and the spirits of o~her orders and be more than ready to grant that in all likelihood they are just as worthy "as our own. The Catholic Church is catholic, and we aBread in the Wilderness (New York: New Direction, "1953), p. 41. THOMAS DUBAY Review for Religious religious are first Catholic and then religious. Would it not, therefore, be healthy for all of us to listen to a retreat master t~rom another order once in a while? Would we not stand to profit from another viewpoint? Not another truth, mind you, but another viewpoint on the same truth. Could not an "out-sider's" look at our own spiri( perhaps cast valuable light on our own appreciation of it? I, for one, think so. So also does a sister who observed to me that "we had one Dominican retreat master who was as Franciscan as any Franciscan we've had." Said another: "Personally, I am not a Franciscan, but St. Fran-cis's detachment, joy, and poverty have helped me tremendously, which led me to do much reading in Franciscan spirituality." Our final reason supporting a variety of retreat masters is the danger of monotony stemming from a sameness of approach. This objection is real for it was mentioned over and o~,er again in the sisters' comments. Some orders of men have a set retreat methodology, and ~sually it is an effective one. And yet i~or all that, a year-in, year-out repetition, of the same routine of subject and technique can be tiresome. We must agree that it is neither pleasant nor overly profitable to hear the same medita-tion subjects discussed year after year, and all the more so when they are treated in much the same manner and according to a prefashioned approach. On this score we might remember that God Himself in writing His Book chose to use a large number of different men with widely diverse backgrounds, techniques, and literary styles. He knows that men need variety . . . and He gave it to them. Among religio.us some like a sameness of approach~ but most do not. Those who do not seem entitled to an occasional change: But we must not be too rabid in our desire for variety. There are difficulties attached to it. Obtaining capable priests year after year from different r~ligious communities is without doubt a somewhat uncertain and perhaps unpleasant preoccupa-tion for the higher superior. It is much easier to have a stand-ing agreement with some one order of men for the simple reason Januavy, 1958 RETREATS IN RETROSPECT that uncertainty and negotiation are done away with. Then, too, it seems safe to suppose that most sister superiors have relatively few contacts with the higher superiors of orders of men. They may not, as a consequence, know exactly where to turn for com-petent retreat masters. What can be done? Two possible solutions occur at the moment, and there are doubtlessly others. The first bespeaks a widespread effort. Some national organization of religious women (or men, as the case may.be) could act through a spe-cially appointed committee as ~a~coordinating agency for the ex-change of retreat information. Superiors could forward to the committee the names of priests whom they have found through dxperience especially competent in retreat work. They could receive in return names of others whom they (the superiors) could contact for future engagements. The second possibility envisions the same type of coopera-tion on a limited, inter- or intra-community basis. Several com-munities could appoint individual religibus to exchange and relay pertinent information among themselves. Or within one com-munity (and especially one of the larger variety) sisters could be asked to forward to the provincia!, superior names of priests whom they "have found skilled in the giving of conferences or retreats to religious. Both of these suggested solutions would really be talent hunts. Their success would depend largely on the willingness of the superiors of religious men to appoint retreat" masters accord-ing to the expressed desire of other communities and also on the willingness of certain priests to be "worked over and over" in a rather taxing occupation. Experience seems to indicate that in many if not in most cases these religious men show that willing-ness and would be happy to cooperate insofar as possible in some such plan. If a program of this kind could be worked out, the bother and uncertainty so 'often bound up with obtaining priests from different orders would quite probably be lessened if 7 THOMAS DUBAY Review ]or Religious not entirely eliminated. There can be no doubt whatsoever that we in the United States possess within our land hundreds of earnest and skilled retreat masters, actual and potential It is up to us to exercise ingenuity and initiative in finding and using ¯them. Familiarity with Constitutions Unmistakable is the word to describe the preponderant number o~ sisters that desire their retreat masters to be well ac-quainted with the constitutions under which they live. Of 701 religious, 616 (89%) expressed- themselves positively, on this question, while only five (.7%) registered a negative opinion. The others were °indifferent. The majority view is to my mind soundly based, and that fo~ the ~.oIlowing reasons. i. From a negative point of view an acquaintance with a community's constitutions forestalls blundering statements in con-ferences and meditations. Such are, for example, advising the sisters how to spend time "in their, rooms" when they have no rooms; or speaking of vacations home when they have no vaca-tions, home; or, finally, making suggestions on how to say the Office when they do not say it. 2. Even more troublesome is advi~e that contradicts or seems to contradict provisions contained in the constitutions. Young religious may beupset or confused, while the older are probably annoyed. Neither reaction contributes to a suc-cessful retreat. 3. On th~ positive side we can find pertinent to our prob-lem the venerable scholastic adage that "whatever is received is received according to the condition of the receiver." What-ever the retreat master has to say to his "receivers" will surely be modified and conditioned by the mental set of those receivers. Part of that set is formed bytheir rule of life; and so, if he wants to know how they are going to understand his observations on the religious life, he should try to acquire some of their condition-ing by a reading of their rule. 8 ¯ January, 1958 RETREATS IN RETROSPECT 4. A priest will be much more practical (and interesting) in his meditation expos~ and conferences if he can occasionally choose for the illustration of his principles items selected from a community's own blueprint for life. As I pound the typewriter before me, the thought passes through my mind of the times my own-ignorance of a congregation's constitutions has wasted valuable conference time and rendered application less effectual. More than once has ~he awkward, expression passed my lips: "I do"not know whether you . . . , but if you do, you may find it helpful to . " Hardly a smooth attempt to be practical. 5. .Reading the constitutions enables the retreat master to grasp this congregation's spirit--not that of his order, nor that of a third or a fourth. 6. The work of the confessional can be done more effec-tively, more surely. Questions are understood and more cor-rectly answered. A sister is scarcely helped in her query about a possible infraction of poverty if her confessor knows nothing about her congregation's interpretation and practice of that vow. 7. An easy familiarity with a community's own ,way of life as expressed in its constitution~ is .bound to generate a receptive notein the retreatants. Their confidence in the master.i~ height-ened-- understandably. Sister~ typically love t~eir rule of life and are appreciative of the priest who will trouble himself, to read it for his own benefit. So much for reasons. A. few cautions seem in order. .The retreat master must exercise a bit of circumspection in his use of another community's constitutions. His references m~ist.be r~spectfui. Obviously out of place is any criticisfi~ of rule or custom, whether that ciiticism is patent or merely implied. This has been done and it isheartily re~ented. And.rightly. Con- ¯ stitutions have .been ' approved by ecclesiastical authority far greater .than any an individual priest can rustle .up. His criti-cism~ therefore, carries little weight.It further lal~ors under theburden of bad "taste. 9 THOMAS DUBAY Review for Religious The retreat master, secondly, should be reasonably sure of the interpretation he attaches to a principle or regulation. To obtain this reasonable degree of certitude one aid is the applica-tion. of the ordinary norms of hermeneutics. Such would be the consideration of the entire context: paragraph, chapter, whole work; the explanation of the obscure by the clear; the directive help of custom. Perhaps the safest guarantee of correct inter-pretation, however, is the help of a superior of the retreatants. She might favor the priest, with some hints on points she thinks need stressing. She might also offer interpretations that alter the prima facie meaning of regulations contained in the constitu-tions. Since custom is the best interpreter of the law and the retreat master may not know of modifying customs, both he and the sisters will be decidedly aided by observations of this type. Our third caution is a mere reminder that constitutions ought not to be worked td death by overdoing references to them. No Usable directive covering all cases can be given. Good taste and common sense must be the guiding norms. The protocol of getting a copy of the constitutions into the hands of a retreat master ought not to be difficult. It would seem best for the provincial superior of the retreatants to offer a copy to the priest about six months in advance. I stress the word, offer, for the reason that a priest does not especially care to ask for a copy of the constitutions. He fears that the superior might be unwilling or that she may think him curious (I doubt that he is). In any event her taking the ~initiative makes the whole matter more simple. Conference and Meditation Approaches What kind of approach do sisters like best? Intellectual? Emotional? Mixed? Difficult questions, these . . . questions that admit of no facile answer. And further, do the likes of the sisters necessarily coincide with .what is objectively best? It is possible that a religious keenly enjoy an emoti0nally toned meditation expos~ and actually derive little lasting benefit from 10 January, 1958 RETREATS IN RETR~ it. But as far as preferences go, we may recall that among the surveyed sisters-- 1. Almost none (.6%) want emphasis placed on the emotions alone. 2. Slightly more than half (50.5%) desire some stress on the use of emotions by the retreat master. 3. Slightly.less than half (49.5%) want no stress on the emotional approach. 4. A vast majority (93.1%) seek emphasis placed on solid intellectual content, whatever other techniques be mixed in.4 5. A lesser majority (78.4%) want Sacred Scripture to have a prominent place, o '6. In order of preference the intellectual approach out-distances the others; the frequent use of Sacred Scripture ranks second, and a stress on the emotions third. The retreat master is evidently ir~ the position of a cook seasoning soup destined for a hundred palates. But the cook enjoys an advantage in that he can season moderately and depend on the saltcellars to supplement his efforts. The retreat master, however, can lean on no stylecellar to alter the fare he presents. And yet spiritual palates vary .as widely as do material. The situation, nonetheless, is not hopeless. I am strongly inclined to think that while the sisters' differences in preference are real, they are not as deep as they first appear. For one thing, you will note that the whole problem is one of emphasis . . and emphasis is a relative thing, a thing that has many meanings and many degrees. Then, too, desire for stress on one approach does not thereby exclude other approaches. It indicates merely a wish that this one be given a prominent place. Emphases are not mutually exclusive. All things c.onsidered, I submit that the interests of most retreatants will best be served 4 In our original article we erred slightly (by 1.8%) on this point. This error was due to faulty grouping. For the present conclusion we should have com-bined groups 2, 4, 6, and 7 of the questionnaire items instead of 2, 4, 5, and 7. See REWEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March, 1956, p. 91. 11 V Review for Religious rences of the majority propet~ly honored by~ari ~ ¯ 'ing the. following characterigtics, negative and ~ ~[0~ry language, sentimental and.exaggerated orator2 ical devices (e.g.,. whispering, unusual exclamations--alas! oh!) are anathema. Earlier.ages may have felt differentlyi but realis-tic, twentieth-century American religious give evidence ot: little patience with the stage-pulpit mixture. We. typically resent any obvious, artificial attempt of a retreat mfister to play upon our emotions. Quite another matter, of course, is the sincerely felt but restrained emotion of a priest'who is deeply penetrated with his message. I do not think that the sisters who exi0ressed them-selves so emphatically against en~otionalism wish a re.treat master ¯ to be stoical. They, after all, are human and so is he. Rather I think they merely wished to exclude an emphasis on the emo-tional approach and any semblance of artificiality. The priest who knows himself to be inclined to manifest his feelings too freely--even s!ncerely experienced t~eelings--will do well to exer-cise a moderat.ing restraint over them.' . 2. While most ~eligious harbor a strong dislike for flowery language, the)) do seem to appreciate a .well-#pok~n sentence, English that is clear, correct, and intelligent. We do not need to labor the point that there is a vast difference between over-done verbiage and a first-class command of language. 3. Absolutely es~entihl in the minds of a vast majority of sisters is a sound intellectual current runiling through medi-tation exposes and conferences. With thi~ pFeference I am in complete agreement. I do not mean to imply, howev.er,' that. meditations and conferences are to be periods .of intense intel-lectual gymnastics. But they should serve as channels for the. conveyance of solid doctrine.on anintellectual level transcending the catechism. In a meditation on the Blessed Trinity, for ex-ample, I can see no reason for refusing to touch upon the intel-le'ctuai generation of the Word and the spiration of the Holy Spirit. These trutl~s, if we work overthem, can be put simply 12 / January, 1958 RETREATS IN RETROSPECT and explained clearly. Coordinated with the divine indwelling they can be°ihvaluable spurs toward sanctity. So, too, can abbre-viated theological analyses 0f the beatific vision, de~otion to. the Sacred Heart, and the mediation of Mary. Repet!tion is .the soul of monotony . . . and s~ is triteness. If a retreat master seldom offers new insights, rarely teaches what has not been heard ten. or twenty times already, ~carcely ever delves more deep!y into God's reve!ation, he is likely to leave little mark on his hearers. ¯ Sisters are people--they like to listen when they learn. 4. The retreat master must at all times keep .his presenta-tion gimple. While he does well to develop some of the finer. points of theology, he must keep his vocabulary lind phraseology tuned to a non-theologi~ally prepared audience. .Profundity of thought and simplicity of presentation can go nicely together. Most sisters are.intellectually capabl'e of understanding theologi- .cal concepts, but nonetheless many of them lack the technical ¯ training needed to grasp these concepts i'f they are ~ffe~ed in fancy terminology. In his outlook on conference-giving to religious; the priest must be careful not to confuse a lack of knowledge with a lack of intelligence. Some sisters may not hav.e too much of the former in matters theol6gical, but most are well equipped with the latter. 5. Attractive~ apt analogies and illustrations are indis: pensable helps, because ~hey suktain interest and pave the way to clear explanation. One i~eed only study the master teacher, Christ, to see how effective a concrete, well-illustrated approach can be. Instead of discoursing abstractedly about a psychology of pride, Jesus hammered home His teaching by talking about places at a banquet table, a boasting Pharisee, and ~a small child. Instead of extolling in the abstract the good-example angle of the religious life, a retreat master can nail down his point by doncretizlng it: "Every time you leave the door of this convent you give. the world a. wordless sermon, a sermon it needs badly, a sermon on the beauty of voluntary .poverty, chastity, and obedience." Or rather than a mere theoretical disquisition on 13 THOMAS DUBAY Review for Religious generosity, why not follow up the theory with a few concrete ideas about being available for extra jobs around the convent: substitution for a sick sister, extra duty in the hospital or class-room, acting as a companion (a happy one). Theory is fine, but apt illustration is even better. 6. It seems to me that an abundant--but not overdone --use of Sacred Scripture sh0ul'd usually find its way into the retreat meditation and confei:ence, The word of God Himself has an efficacy with souls Ufishared 'by the most clever words we humans can concoct. One sister remarked in this connection that "it is only too late that one finds the beauty and worthwhile passages in Holy Scripture. Personally, I have found myself living in close union with God by just one passage studied in the New Testament at meditation or spiritual reading." The retreat master, therefore, in gathering together material for his conferences ought to search the sacred pages (with the help. of a concordance) for apt scriptural support, Well-chosen texts will enlighten the minds and move the wills of his listeners far more effectively than his own words ever will. Theology in Retreats If ever a universal statement is dangerous, it is when discuss-ing the problem of theology in retreats fc~r religious. So varied are the talents, tastes, and training of typical groups of retreatants, that a priest's efforts to trim his treatment of theology to suit the preferences of all are almost predoomed to failure. And yet, while we may not be able to meet the needs of each and" every religious, I think we can tailor our approach to care for the great majority. First of all, I think it is safe to say that very few sisters and brothers have more~than a handshaking acquaintance with theology . . . real theology. I know full well that many have taken ~he mushrooming colleges courses in "theology," whether in their own juniorates or in regularly constituted colleges; but for the most part these are merely college religion courses 14 Janua~'y, 1958 RETREATS IN RETROSPECT labeled theology. In any event, we can agree that few brothers or sisters have taken the theology that priests have taken. The retreat master may not forget, therefore, that in his planning he ought not to assume technical knowledge or training in the .sacred science. Positively,. he sh(~uld assume that there are many theological concepts with which the retreatants are not acquainted ai~d about which they will be delighted to hear. These two facts suggest a pair of norms which may guide masters in their ap-proach to theology. First~ any theological concept that is introduced into con-ference or meditation must be presented simply if it is to reach the majority. This caution can hardly be overemphasized. A technical, highly abstract, sparsely illustrated presentation is so much wasted time . . . and sometimes patience. A' priest who uses unexplained theological or philosophical terms (e.g., hypo-static union, satisfactory value, timorous conscience, formal object, eschatological emphasis) may impress his hearers with the pro-fundity of theology, but he is hardly going to lead them to a greater love of God. Yet (and this is our second norm) this does not mean that retreat masters should not present profound truths. They cer-tainly should. God gave us the whole of His revelation for a purpose: the sanctification of souls. If a priest neglects to teach those truths when they can in some way be grasped, he is neglect-ing a powerful, God-given means diGrm[y aimed at the sanctifi-cation of souls. There is a tremendous difference between presenting the-ology in retreats and presenting theology technically. One sis, ter brought this point out beautifully. She observed that a retreat master: should give sisters exactly the same substantial content as he would give to other priests. He need have no fear that they will not be able to understand and live what he himself understands and lives. He should deliver his message, however, without scholarly verbiage, Latinisms, and all the other trappings which serve to im-press rather than to clarify. Through no fault of their own, sisters 15 Review for Religious do not have the.information to cope with this. It is a great mistake, however--and sad to say. a common one--to confound a sister's lack of technical theological learning with a lack of intelligence. It is the priest's task to make the technical comprehensible to the non-theologian. This of course demands inuch more understanding than does a presentation in the language" of the manuals. Most retreat' masters present a very thin gruel by comparison with what the}, could give if tl~ey had greater respect for the potentialities of the sisters. :&nd there are further reasons for introducing simplified theological concepts into. retreats. To my mind triteness of sub-ject matter (and triteness of expression, ~;oo) is candidate number one fo~ the title of b~te noire among the defects of contemporary preaching. We tend to' repeat meditation subjects and medita-tion ideas so unendingly that often little of enduring value is ldft with the retreatant.'If, on the contrary, we delve into the riches of divine revelation and teach the retreatants some of the many things they do we can hardly fail to Sot~nd theolegy not know about God and His.loveliness, leave a beneficial and lasting mark. retreat offers the further benefit of furnishing solid bases for a fervent spiritual life. It is perfectly true that learning is not .an essential ingredient in the make-up of saintliness; but, all else being equal, it is undeniably a power-ful aid. The reasori for this is nothing more. nor less than the age old scholastic axiom: nothing is willed unless it is first known. If we want our religious to live sensible, solid, and saintly lives, we must do our part by furnishing them with lucid explanations of pertinent sections from "moral, .dogmatic, scriptural, ascetichl, .and mystical theology. To offer less is to shortchange." Fine. I suppose we are agreed that simplified but new theological concepts .have a place in retreats for religious. But how is the .individual retreat master going to know (1) what will be "new" concepts for a particular group of religious and (2) whether his treatment of those concepts can be honored by the adjective simplified? A partial answer to the first problem can be worked out by a close cooperation between the retreat master and the provincial 16 January, 1958 RETREATS IN RETROSPECT superior of the retreatants. The latter could volunteer informa-tion on the background of the sisters with particular emphasis on their previous education and present work. If she can indicate with some precision to what extent the sisters have been in-structed in sacred doctrine, all the better. The retreat master needs help in answering the second question also, but this time it must issue from the retreatants themselves. A teacher can hardly know of himself whether or not his classroom presentation is clear and simple. He must hear from his pupils in some way or other, whether by examina-tion or oral comment. A retreat master hears nothing from the former and little from the latter. If he is brave enough, he might invite written comment. Toward the close of the exercises he could pass out a one-page opinionnaire asking for a frank evaluation of his exposition. If he does this, he should make it perfectly clear that he is not looking for an oblique pat on the back but for a statement of unadorned fact. Private Interview with the Retreat Master We approach now a question on which there is sharp dis-agreement between two large groups of American sisters. That question is whether or not sisters making a retreat should be allowed to approach the retreat master for a discussion of spiritual problems outside of the confessional. You will note that the question is not whether all sisters should see the priest in this capacity, but whether they may see him if they wish. Our survey indicated that a majority of religious women favor the availability of a priva.te confer.ence, although a strong minority look askance at it. The study suggested also that religious communities themselves vary in their official views. Some allow the private interview; others do not. To my mind the opinion favoring the availability of the private conference is the better. But before I set down reasons, a word of caution. No religious should be in any way forced or persuaded to seek a conference. Some sisters find the help 17 THOMAS DUBAY Review for Religious available in the confessional adequate for their needs. Others would be embarrassed and at a loss to explain their problems in. a private interview. We must remember that most sisters, unlike both religious and diocesan seminarians, are not accustomed to speak of their spiritual life with a priest sitting face-to-face be-fore them. Perfect and complete freedom, therefore, should surround this whole matter. Some religious, however, not only desire a private interview, but clearly need one. Any experienced spiritual director knows well enough that there are problems involved in the fervent living of the religious life far too complicated to be solved in the time ordinarily available in the confessional. As one sister put it, "there are some matters one simply can't get straight in the confessional." General conferences do not help here pre-cisely because they are general. We are not trying to form "religious in general" but particular religious, and for that individualized attention is indispensable. Said one sister: "Some-times the conferences would never have cleared up my diffi-culties, but a private conference where I can ask questions did." Aside even from strictly spiritual problems of an ascetical nature, a religious may want to discuss a moral or vocational difficulty. Again, as any director knows, these problems are often such that they cannot be solved by a few paternal (and some-times trite) words in the confessional. They need a full hear-ing followed by mature thought and discussion. Then, too, few sisters during the course of the year enjoy the opportunity of receiving an adequate hearing on their spiritual needs and aspira-tions. Why not give that opportunity to them at retreat time? A denial-of it could have unfortunate consequences. One superior has observed that "if a religious doesn't feel she has that freedom [of a private conference at retreat time], she Will look for other means to solve her problems, or just drop them and give up . " Failures in the religious life are not always due wholly to the unfortunate religious. 18 January, 1958 RETREATS IN RETROSPECT The fact that many sisters do so well in their spiritual" lives without systematic and thorough spiritual direction is hardly an argument against its value. In all likelihood they would advance in God's love even more rapidly if they were given regular direction as the major seminarian, for example, is given it. The objections brought against the private interview do not seem entirely valid. They are, for to the danger of abuse. And among likely (judging from the sisters' opinic community and self-seekir~g on the part on the latter I think we should reser~ religious could be sure that such an at for me to see. Nor is. disloyalty so. Most priests, after all, are sensible en( case of criticism, even bitter criticism, th side of the story. They are not going mentally with the other side unheard. sister's criticism is valid, it is clear that sl Her needs should be cared for. Possible abuse is no argument ag~ Church herself allows (and prescribes great abuse is possible. The same obi are possible also in the confessional, b~ dreamed of discontinuing the sacramen them. She merely surrounds that sacr~ guards as are reasonable and then lear of God. Which may remind us that which abuse may be .present. will. .the most part, reducible ~ossible abuses the most is) are disloyalty to the of the sister. Judgment to God. How fellow ase is present is difficult ormidable an objection. agh to realize that in a .'y are receiving only ond condemn a community But whether or not the may really need advice. .nst a good thing. The many things in which ~ctions mentioned above .t the Church has never of penance because of ment with as many safe- ~s the rest in the hands 3od also allows much in Consider the prosaic fact of free The practical problem of little time anda large number of retreatants is genuine: "I can't see how a retreat master in one private conference could possibly help one--especially when two or three hundred people are making the retreat that usually 19 THOMAS DUBAY Review for Religious lasts five or eight days." Real though the difficulty is, its solution is not impossible. First of all, we must remember that most religious will probably not seek a private interview, at least not in every retreat. Secondly, superiors should exhaust their in-genuity in seeking ways and means of multiplying retreats and consequently reducing the number of participants in each one. Finally, retreat masters should imitate St. Paul in spending them-selves without stint for the benefit of the sisters. They should give generously of their time and l~e as available as possible. On their part local superiors "(in congregations that allow the private conference) should make it as easy as possible for the sisters to obtain direction. While religious discipline may not suffer, red tape ought to be reduced to the barest minimum. And we might observe in conclusion that the religious themselves ought carefully to abstain from making comments of any kind about those who choose to avail themselves of the opportunity to. obtain spiritual direction. Understanding of Retreatants' Needs We have already observed in our survey series that a some-what disturbing number of sisters feel that at times their retreat masters do not understand well enough the spiritual problems of religious women. If we may judge the views of these sisters on the basis of the typical comments they made, we must return the verdict that usually those views are objectively based. Perhaps an instance of what I mean will help. If a priest counsels a community to do something prohibited by its constitutions, the sisters' judgment that their spirit is not understood is objectively founded. It is not a mere subjective persuasion. When a priest does not understand the needs of a particular group of religious, that lack of understanding will usually occur in one or other of the following categories. 1. Failure to grasp the diverse needs of the different re-ligious communities. This particular type of misunderstanding comes in a number of varieties. One sister observes that the 20 January, 1958 RETREATS IN RETROSPECT retreat master does not seem to appreciate the needs of the teach-ing religious. Another remarks that the problems of the nursing sister are for the most part missed. A third objects that the priest does not understand the spirit of her order or that he confuses it with the spirit of some other congregation. This type of misunderstanding is itself readily understand-able. Many retreat masters are not teachers; none are nurses; and none belong to the identical community as that of the re-treatants. It isi therefore, encouraging that the sisters themselves show a sympathetic appreciation of the di~culties lying before the retreat master. Yet for all that, the obstacles can be at least partially removed. If a priest habitually gives retreats to teaching or nursing religious, it seems imperative that he keep abreast of current problems facing the sisters by reading publications in which those problems are discussed. Such would be, for example, the Catholic Educational Review, the Catholid School Journal, Hospital Progress, Review for Religious, Sponsa Regis, and Sister Formation Bulletin. A first-class biology teacher keeps himself au courant on the newest developments in his field. So does the first-class retieat master. An invaluable means of learning about the problems peculiar to sisters in diverse works (and we are thinking also of contem-plation, social service, missi(~ns, and others) is to give the sisters a chance to say something during retreat time. A daily discussion period wi~h the master serves a number of excellent purposes and . this is one of them. A discussion period can easily replace or be integrated with the daily conference (as distinguished" from the meditations). 'Misunderstandings bearing on the community's works and spirit can be eliminated to a large extent by a careful reading of sisters' constitutions together with exchanges with their su-periors. We have discussed both of these matters in the early part of this present article. 2. Lack of understanding of the psychology of women and of the religious life as lived by women. On this point I would 21 THOMAS DUBAY Review for Religfous almost prefer to say nothing at all, for there is little that I can offer with certainty. Of this, however, we can be sure: we do have a prob.lem here that is worth noticing. In our survey the sisters mentioned it more than once and that in diverse con-nections. Now, of course, men and women are not so psychologically different that the one group can never hope to know very much about the other. Yet there does seem to be a chasm in mutual understanding wide enough to create difficulty in obtaining optimum retreat results. This difficulty is sharp-ened when we reflect on the patent fact that retreats for religious women given by religious men are here for keeps. We want, therefore, to make them as successful as possible. What can be done to further a more complege understanding? Experience, obviously, will help any priest. And so will his study of feminine psychology (if he can find something reliable on the subject). But I think that the real solution, if there is one, lies with the sisters themselves. To a consid-erable extent the heart of a nun is unknown terrain. Her confessor surely has some access to it, but a decidedly incom-plete access. The depths of her heart, its love, its aspirations and yearnings, its happiness and its pain are for the most part a closed book. How precisely she views the trials and joys of her-consecrated life are her secret hardly to be shared fully by another. Her entire reactions to her friends and i~amily and sister religious and superiors are unknown quantities. In all this, of course, she is no different from the rest of us. The difference lies in the fact that a priest can more easily understand all these things as they occur in laymen and in priests because he has been both. And many priests engaged in seminary work have spent long hours in the spiritual direc-tion of seminarians. They know the masculine mind in its religious implications because they have experienced it both in themselves and in others. 22 January, 1958 RETREAT~ IN RETROSPEC~ ' Now if there is such a thing as a psychology of religious women--and many sisters insist there is--it is the religious women themselves who must give an account of it. Perhaps our sisters have been too reluctant to explore this particular aspect of their vocation or too taciturn about making known what they have found. In any event the initiative must stem from them. 3. Lack of understanding of the real problems in the religious, life of sisters. This problem, where it actually does occur, is probably connected with the preceding. In our opinionnaire an item on community ~ problems was included and to it many interesting answers were given. I have not as yet written up this particular question, but hope to do so in the reasonably near future. It may cast some light on this third source of misunderstanding. 4. Failure to realize th~it most sisters are not interested in mere mediocre holiness. While this particular type of mis-understanding is by no means universal, mention of it did occur frequently enough to warrant more than a passing notice. Since, however, it shall come up for consideration in our next section, we will pass it by for'the present. 5. Lack of patience with sisters' poblems. To run out of patience is like running out of gas. Neither necessarily sug-gests a lack of understanding of people or of gas tanks. Either may bespeak nothing more striking than some deficiency or other in human nature. But on the other hand, misunder-standing may be the culprit. And this takes us back to our psycholog)~ of the sexes. It is easy to visualize a priest brush-ing off a sister's problems as petty and of no consequence. He may be right (and he may not), but in either case charity indicates that he give her a kind hearing and a patient-answer. Attitudes Toward Sanctity In proposing to analyze so intricate and delicate a question as the present one, we are perhaps treading where angels fear; 23 THOMAS DUBAY Review fo~" Religious but the very moment of the matter beckons at least a try. If it is true, as the Salmanticences say it is, that to raise a good person to saintliness is a greater work than to convert a sinner to grace, the efforts of retreat masters to lead religious to the heights of holiness loom up as of no little account. There are two elements involved in the retreat master's approach to sanctity for his auditors. On the one hand there is the question as to whether he urges them sufficiently to the heights, and on the other whether he explains adequately just how those heights are to be scaled. The survey indicated that a majority of sisters (63.1%) felt that retreat masters usually do urge them sufficiently to supreme sanctity, while a notable minority (36.9%) were of a negative opinion. Regarding the second element the breakdown was closer: 53:8% thought that retreat masters usually explain adequately how complete holiness is to be achieved and "46.2% embraced an opposite view. These contradictory opinions on both questions are easily understood. They are probably due to three factors: (a) the sisters polled have differing standards as to what the heights of holiness really are; (b) they also differ in their judg-ments as to what a retreat master ought to say about complete sanctity in a heterogeneous group of religious; and (c) they are speaking of different retreat masters. Understandable though these differences of opinion are, they are nonetheless represented by percentages large enough to indicate that a considerable number of retreat masters are not satisfying a considerable number of religious in their ap-proach to the question of sanctity. If this conclusion be correct, we might dwell with profit on possible means of improving inadequacies where they do occur. 1. The confessional is a situation tailor-made for the pru-dent direction of a soul to holiness. A confessor can often spot the fully generous so.ul, the soul that is ripe for a greater love of God. The penitent's confession itself both in its content 24 Janua~'y, 1958 RETREATS IN RETROSPECT and in its mode will often suggest the, practical means to be used at each pa_rticular stage in the spiritual life. 2. In his conferences and meditations the master should present saintliness itself as the goal of the religious life. He ought not to suggest by word or attitude that some sort of mediocre goodness is sufficient, but rather that the very end of the state of perfection is perfection, a thorough doing. The word itself, perfection, indicates a completeness, an entireness that can be predicated of nothing less than the sanctity of the saints. And yet while he presents holiness in all its totality, the retreat master will be careful not to discourage the weak. Some religious do not feel that they are ready to scale the heights and that they must first get themselves established at the moun-tain's base. The priest will, therefore, counsel patience and p~udence in adapting means to an individual spiritual condition and state in life. While pointing out the sublime goal, he makes it clear that we do not reach it in a month or a year, but that with the cooperation of our unstinting generosity God brings us to it in His own good time. .Presented in this way the doctrine of saintliness for the religious fits the needs of all and hurts none. 3. The retreat master should next show that the heights of holiness are possible of achievement. One sister'ha~ ob-served that the manner of reaching sanctity "is often presented as being very difficult rather than as something to be. faced with joy and confidence." Working for real holiness is difficult-- there can be no doubt about that. But it is not a sombre and forbidding difficulty and certainly not an insuperable one. Christ could not have commanded the impossible, and yet He made it crystal clear on at least two occasions that all men are to strive for perfect sanctity. "You therefore are to be perfect, even as your heavenly Father is perfect" (Matt. 5:48). "Thou shall love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, and with thy Whole mind" (Matt. 22:37). The 25 THOMAS DUBAY Review ]or Religious comment of Pius XI on the first of these texts was emphatic: "Let no one think that these words apply only to a very few select souls and that all the others are permitted to remain in some inferior degree of virtue. It is evident that absolutely everybody without exception is bound by this law" (third cen-tenary of St. Francis de Sales). If saintliness is possible for all men, it is doubly possible for the religious who has chosen the most effective means to attain it, the state of perfection. 4. A step further. Saintliness for religious should b~ presented as eminently desirable, a thing at once splendid, satisfying, and sublime. There is nothing in the world so utterly charming as a saintly soul--and also nothing so pleasing to God. The beauty of a consecrated life lived to the hilt should be like a golden thread that the priest weaves through-out the retreat by his attitudes, words, and actions. 5. A practical explanation of the means to achieve sanctity is indispensable. We have already noted that a con-siderably greater number of the sisters participating in our study found fault with retreat masters on this score than on the score of theory. Such is not surprising for we humans naturally tend in our teaching to stress the general and avoid the specific. And in our spiritual conferences we tend to generalize all the more because we are subconsciously afraid that we will step on somebody's toes if we get too specific about what we mean. Yet if a retreat master is going to be clear he has got to be specific. Else he is likely doing' nothing but preaching pious platitudes: I suppose I might right now practice what I am' preaching and be specific. Instead of resting content with a glowing but merely general eulogy of detachment from created things, the retreat master ought to get down to brass tacks and spell out what this thing is really all about. He might tell his audience clearly what an attachment is: the clinging of the will to a created thing for its own sake; the loving of a creature for its own sake and not for the sake of God. Then January, 1958 RETREATS IN RETROSPECT he could specify as does St: John of the Cross what some of these creatures might be: a book, a piece of clothing, news and rumors, a love of ta/king. (See Ascent of Mount Carmel, Book I, Chapter 11.) He might be even more specific and explain the psychology of attachment and then use some of these examples to illustrate his point. When a speaker has spent twenty or thirty minutes in this fashion, he has said something . something that ~vi[l move to action because it is clear, practical, down to earth. 6. In our efforts to move souls to seek saintliness itself as their goal we might well draw more freely from the lives of the saints as a source t:or apt illustrations. If in a lecture on biology you want to explain the nature of plants, you draw your illustrations from plants. Why not the same in explain-ing saintliness? The unqualified idea that saints are to be admired but not imitated is, of course, the merest nonsense. Any good theology manual p.oints out that an essential reason for the pope's infallibility in a decree of canonization is pre-cisely that he is presenting to the faithful an example to be imitated and that, consequently, he cannot lead them astray. The retreat master, to be sure, ought not to dwell on the unusual doings of the saints for the twofold reason that these unusual activities are both comparatively rare and also not the chief basis for the saints' canonization. If the Church intends us to present the saints to the simple faithful as concretizations of perfect sanctity, all the more ought they to be presented to priests, brothers, and sisters both in retreat and out of it. 7. In order to further the work of all-outness in matters spiritual, the master could suggest to the retreatant community choice books eminently suited to the purpose. Our contem-porary spiritual reading market is not totally void of second-rate works, wo~'ks that sometimes clip the corners off perfection as it has been explained by the saints. If you wonder, perhaps, at exactly what I mean, I would suggest that you read side by side 27 THOMAS DUBA¥ Review ]or Religious St. Frzn¢is de Sales, St. John of the Cross, and St. Teresa of Avila on the one hand and some of our less noteworthy moderns on the other. 8. Our final suggestion: a self-analysis on the part of each retreat master. Some priests are undoubtedly doing a superb job in this whole matter; others seemingly are not. A self-examination may help to indicate who is where. I think that some such examination would be based on three funda-mental questions: (a) do I really~know the doctrine of the saints; (b) am I prudent in applying it; (c) am I practical in explaining it? Other questions would be mere derivatives of these three. Characteristics of the Retreat Master We will preface our comments on the traits of retreat mas-ters by refreshing our collective mind on the preferences and dislikes of the ret~eatants. It is the mark made on them, after all, that determines the success or failure of the retreat. As regards positive qualities our survey indicated that sis-ters, at least, overwhelmingly nominate genuine sanctity as thi~ trait most desirable in a retreat master. Practicality, a distant second-placer, was followed by experience, theological learning, kindness, and a sense of humor in that order. On the negative side the number of different defects noted by the sisters was decidedly large. Among the most frequently mentioned wero reading of meditations, lack of interest, conceit, verbosity, sar-casm, joking manner, impracticality, severity, harshness and speed in the confessional, bad delivery, superficiality, dramatic manner, lack of preparation, excessive intellectuality, critical spirit (and especially toward sisters), worldliness, condescension toward sisters, negative approach, scandalous stories, crude lan-guage, idiosyncrasies, and insincerity.~ For a complete treatment of these and other qualities and defects, see REY'IEW RELIGIOUS, September, 1956, pp. 253-62. 28 Janua~'y, 1958 RETREATS IN RETROSPECT Perhaps the brightest and most encouraging element in this whole matter is that every quality above mentioned, with the possible exception of a sense of humor (which came last in importance), can be acquired by a serious priest, while almost every defect can with due attention be eradicated. Any priest can, if he really wants to, set out after genuine sanctity; he can acquire practicality, experience, a competent knowledge of theology; and he can be kind merely by making up his mind to it. On the other hand he can tone down a clamorous delivery or clarify a muttering one; he can eradicate harshness, conceit, verbosity, and sarcasm; he can prepare his retreat well and refrain from reading conferences and meditations; it is within his power to avoid disinterestedness, criticism, condescension, and worldliness. Most priests (who, after all, have had enough talent to receive ordination) can with hard work develop them-selves into acceptable retreat masters. But--and this is a worthwhile but--we do not always know our defects and, for that- matter, sometimes our strong points. I would not be entirely unwilling to support the thesis that most of the failings we have noted are unrealized by the retreat masters possessing them . unrealized at least as defects. A man can easily be unaware that his manner is conceited, his delivery raucous, and his matter superficial. He may sincerely think that his emotionalism is desirable, his severity needed, or his critical spirit justified. He may not know that his read meditations grate on the nerves of many or that his manner in the confessional is at all hasty or severe. All of which suggests the need for a large package of charity in the mental and verbalized judgments of retreatants, but it also suggests that perhaps the priests among us ought not to take too much for granted. We may not be so free of deficiencies as we might imagine. How to find out? One way is honest self-examination. Some defects so stand out that they can be seen with half an eye. Sarcasm, 29 THOMAS DUBAY Review /or Religious insincerity, criticism of sisters, and lack of interest seem to fall into this class of obvious deficiencies, obvious at least on a mo-ment's reflection. I think that sisters' retreats would in many instances be greatly improved if each retreat-giving priest would examine himself periodically on the list of qualities and defects the sisters furnished us in the above referred.to study. Knowing a deficiency is half the battle; the other half is won by good will and God's grace. But there are other defects that even a serious examination will not reveal. To know these we must be told by another. Is it beyond the realm of feasibility to suggest that the retreat master distribute once or twice in his career a simple question-naire to the retreatants in order to obtain a frank expression of opinion? There is the danger, of course, that he may appear to be seeking a naive pat on the back; but that danger can be annihilated by a few sincere, well-chosen words. Most retreat-ants would be frank, and their comments couid prove invaluable for the future improvement of that priest's retreat work. Despite his best and most sincere efforts, however, it may happen, that a priest is just not fitted by nature to do retreat work. Well and good. He may be a fine man and capable of doing outstandingly well in some other field. And it would seem wise for his superiors to assign him to another field. But at minimum we submit as imperative that superiors send into retreat work only those priests who are interested in it and generously willing to do it. The sisters' complaints dealing with lack of interest on the part of retreat masters are, as we ha.ve noted, heavy. And in all probability it is often the root cause of other defects. Experience in the classroom indicates clearly that the best teacher is the enthusiastic, interested teacher. The very same may be said of retreat master~ for they too are teachers. It would be generally agreed, I believe, that the work of giving retreats to religious is highly specialized and quite unlike 30 Janua~'y, 1958 RETREATS IN RETROSFECT the Usual activities of most priests. Neither the ordinary course of seminary theology nor the typical Sunday sermon approach is equal to the sublime task of forming consecrated souls to a configuration with Christ. Ideally, therefore, men who do re-treat work should have specialized preparation for it. We prepare men and women for other les~ important specialized jobs. Why not for that of retreat master? .We need not necessarily think here of formal and especially tailored courses; they may be feasible--I do not know. But as a minimumwe must think of a private, orderly study on the part of priests who give retreats, a study bearing on ascetical and mystical theology, the New Testament, and the lives of the saints. The nature of the work demands, of course, that th~ retreat master be competent in dogmatic and moral theology--else his ascetical and mystical theology may be in a tottering condition. Real competence and facility in these fields take time. Years. A man cannot have a real grasp on ascetical and mystical theology by reading two or three books, no matter how good they be. Nor can he know the mind of the saints by reading two or three lives, even the best of them. An ideal retreat master can be that man only who is wholeheartedly interested in the glorious work of raising chosen souls to a lofty degree of holiness and who is willing to submit to the rigors involved in acquiring and maintaining a fitness for it. A final note for the retreatants themselves . . . and that note is one Word: forebearance. Despite the very best and sincerest efforts of all concerned with retreats, masters are not going to be perfect. Our first and last perfect retrea~ will be conducted in heaven. In the meantime we must be patient and do the best we can with what we have. Meditation Subjects I do not think there is need here to 'ana1~ze the question of subject matter for retreat meditations, since the major impli-cations of our retreat study on this point have already been 31 THOMAS DUBAY Review fo~" Religious discussed.° One observation only seems worthy of mention, and that is the avoidance of triteness. It is neither psycho-logically nor pedagogically wise to insist on the same set of meditation subjects year after yea~. Topic repetition is psy-chologically unwise because attention is blunted by sameness and impressions fade: assueta vi/e~cunt. Subject reiteration is pedagogically unwise for the obvious reason that you. are not teaching very much, if anything at all. By hitting the same truths in the same way, few new insights are given and, conse-quently, few new motives for action. If, on the contrary, the same subjects are tackled from .new points of view and if they furnish new insights, all our objections fall to the ground. In a true sense, you really have new subject~. You are no longer trite. Rest Before Retreat A noteworthynumber of sisters mentioned in our opinion-naire that plain weariness hindered them from getting full spiritual benefits from their retreats. And one need not tax his imagination to believe them. Ushered by ol~edience directly from the hospital floor or the classroom into conference hall and chapel, these religious simply do not have the energy to give themselves completely to the searching work of a vigorous self-renewal. But we must remember at the same time that scarcity of personnel may prevent a provincial superior from doing a whole lot about the situation. Yet when it is possible, a full day's rest would seem in order for all sisters about to go on retreat. Even bettek would be a week or two of vacation, a vacation during which only spiritual exercises and trifling daily duties are mandatory. Religious (as we well know but some-times tend to forget) do not acquire nerves of copper merely by donning a habit. Daily Retreat Schedule Closely linked to the immediately preceding problem is the tightly packed retreat horarium. A daily schedule that is closely °See gEvIsw FOg gELm~OUS, November, 1956, pp. 301-5. 32 January, 1958 RETREATS IN RETROSPECT crowded with a multitude of spiritual exercises is psychologically and spiritually unsound. It does not take cognizance of the fact that God works best in peace and quiet, that the sisters need serenity of mind and heart if they are going to love Him tremendously. It would seem wise, therefore, to reduce the number of exercises in a squeezed-together horarium, to sched-ule vocal prayers in moderation, and to allow an adequate amount of free time. Most sisters are in dead earnest about the business of sanctity; and it should be assumed, until the contrary is proved, that they will use free time to their greatest advantage. Physical Accommodations During the Retreat One of the sisters good-naturedly referred to the problem of spacial overcrowding during retreat time as "one of those August mob scenes." We may easily sympathize with her viewpoint and yet at the same time grant that the problems of the assigning superior are knotty. Especially in large communi-ties this latter has often to provide the benefits of an annual retreat to hundreds of religious and that within the narrow confines of a few weeks and drastically limited facilities. For some communities, perhaps, the "mob scenes" cannot be avoided, at least in the near future. For others, however, careful plan-ning and personnel adjustment together with fresh thinking could conceivably issue in an amelioration of the situation. The solution in most cases would probably be a greater number of distinct retreats, however they can be provided. Possibly the week after Christmas would for some communities lend itself to an additional retreat time; for others the Easter vacation might be used for the same purpose. In still other cases the solution might lie in a greater dispersion of retreat locations. Rather than have all retreats in a motherhouse or community college, smaller houses might with some adjustment be adaptgd to serve as supplementary retreat centers. Aside from the greater ad-vantage of more physical space, such dispers)on would enable the sisters to seek and receive more individualized attention from 33 ¯ FOR YOUR INFORMATION Review for Religioz~s the master whether in the confessional or in the private conference. Conclusion Before capping this disquisition with its amen, I would like to reject in anticipation a possible illusion, for if. it came to be, it would probably be my fault. That illusion is that this study contains the answers to almost all retreat prol~lems. The truth is, of course, that it may contain some answers to some problems. The truth is also that we need a lot more thinking, fresh think-ing, about these questions. Investigation, too. It seems to me that we ought to learn from our secular friends how to use the tools of research to further love for God. We ought to study ourselves and our doings more objectively--scientifically, if you want to call it that. In all likelihood both we and our doings would be much more effective. For Your Informal:ion In Future Numbers NOT INFREQUENTLY we receive articles that have to be returned because the subjects are treated in articles that we have already accepted, but not yet published. It has occurred to us that this problem might be avoided if we publish a list of articles that will appear in subsequent numbers of the REVIEW, with a brief indication of the content of each article. Besides being helpful to prospective contributors, this list should be of interest to all readers. We give here a list only of articles that have been accepted at the time we are preparing this material for the printer. That means, roughly speaking, articles accepted before November 1, 1957. 34 January, 1958 FOR YOUR INFORMATION "The Holy See and Teaching Brothers." Under date of March 31, 1954, Pope Pius XII addressed-to Cardinal Valeri a letter on the special vocation and apostolate of religious institutes of teaching brothers. ,Several magazines have published English translations of this letter. The Commentarium pro religiosis published not o~nly the original Latin text of the Pope's letter, but also some background material and a commentary on the papal letter by Father A. Guti~rrez, C.M.F. We intend to pub-lish an English version of the papal letter, together with the background material and some o~ the more important observa-tions made by Father Guti~rrez. -"The Gifts of the Holy Spirit." This article gives a clear, simple, and attractive explanation of the more common theolo-gical teaching on the gifts and on their function in the ascetical life. "Religious and Psychotherapy." What are psychiatric treat-ments? What is their purpose? Should religious who suffer from a mental illness go to a pxsychiatrist and cooperate in psy-chotherapy? The article answers questions such as these. "A Sense of Balance." This is a study in contrasts: opti-mism and pessimism; with insistence that the true Christian view of life is an optimistic view that sees God as love, man as re-deemed, other creatures as means of sanctification, and the com-mandments as laws of love and life. "Saint Th~rhse of the H61y Face." The Little Flower's full name in religion is Sister Th~r~se of the Child Jesus and of the Holy Face. This article brings out, by means of numerous quo-tations, how profound was her devotion to the Holy Face. "To extend the Reign of Jesus Christ." This is an account of the founding of the first non-cloistered institute of teaching sisters. "Unceasing Prayer." We all wonder at times how we can fulfill the words of St. Paul, "Pray without ceasing." One ex-planation, called virtual prayer, has been recommended by cer- 35 FOR YOUR INFORMATION tain prominent French Jesuit writers. Their explanation is presented briefly in this article. "Proficients Who Do Not Progress.'? One division of the stages of spiritual progress is: beginner, proficient, and perfect. This article pays particular attention to the difficulties of the second stage and to the ways of surmounting these difficulties. "Preliminary to Adaptation." The theme of the article is that, in order properly to carry out the recommendations of the Church concerning adaptation and renovation, there must be a careful study of the spirit of the institute. "Countering Serious Sin." Religious are not immune from the possibility of committing mortal sin, and they need to take precautions. Such precautions are outlined in this article, which, in the author's words, is "a blueprint . . . for constructing (or re-constructing) an interior citadel against the lethal foe, serious sin." "Keeping the Rules." In religious institutes there are two kinds of rules: disciplinary regulations that mainly concern exter-nal observance and community order, and spiritual directives that pertain to the interior spirit and the apostolate. The article shows that fidelity to the rules means one thing as regards the first kind of rules, and another as regards the second kind. "The Neurotic Religious." This is a sequel to the article on religious and psychotherapy. Most religious who might need and profit by psychotherapy suffer from an emotional illness known as neurosis. This article is an attempt to paint a verbal picture of the neurotic religious and his problems. Non-Jesuit Contributors We are often asked (apparently by those who have not been regular readers of the RE'Ci, EW) whether we accept articles by non-Jesuits. One answer to this question might be a simple reference to the articles published during the last three years, (continued on page 41) 36 Spiri!:ual Cancer I:r~ncis J. M~cEnt:ee, S.J. wE ARE HEARING a great deal these days about cancer. Millions of dollars are set aside every year to study it, to learn everj~thing possible about this mysterious killer. People are made constantly conscious of it because they see and hear about it on all sideg: campaigns for research funds and hospitalization; drives against this and that as possible causes; salves and various ray-treatments as possible cures. The obituary page in every newspaper is also a persistent reminder of its omni-presence. Yet, even though cancer is prominent in the public eye, the very mention of it still strikes terror into those confronted with it. Any unexpected need for hospital care or sudden surgery generally wrings the same agonized question from the anguished patient: "It. isn't cancer, is it, doctor?" as if anything else would be almost welcome as an alternative. There is good reason for this terror, because the most terrifying thing about cancer is its insidiousness. Cancer is really an abuse. It might even be called too much of a good thing. Many people have a vague notion that.cancer is something like leprosy in that it is a disease that eats away until the poor victim just distintegrates. Actually it is just the opposite. Cancer is a lively exuberant~ growth of body cells, which in itself is a good thing because it is the normal function of body cells to increase and grow. Only in this case the growth gets out of hand and keeps right on growing long after it should have stopped. The cells continue to divide madly without any apparent cause or method of being stopped. That is why cancer is an abuse; why it is too much of a good thing; why it is insidious, for it starts with something that is normal and natural and perverts it. Finally, since these wildly pro-lifer~ ting cells are living things, they must be nourished; con-sequently, they spread out like the crab from which the disease takes its name and pirate their nourishment from the surrounding 37 FP~-NCIS J. MAcENTEE Review for Religious healthy tissue which in time, as is quite obvious, will be starved dead by the greedy voracious intruders. I am sure the .medical profession would find much to criticize in this over-simplification of one of the most serious and complicated diseases of our time, but my purpose is a medical one only to the limited extent of setting up a parallel with what might be called spiritual cancer. Our growth in the spiritual life is measured by our close union with Christ, an ever-deepening awareness of His presence and a constant striving to have an unalloyed intention in all our endeavors in His service. One good sign of a sound spiritual growth is the balance and harmony with which it proceeds. Our performance of the many activities which make up our dedicated lives mirrors, to some degree, the progress of our spiritual growth. We of course realize that all our duties and obligations, even those which may seem to be of lesser moment, or even (to our practical minds) somewhat impractical, are nonetheless very important from God's viewpoint. Therefore we must be on the alert that we don't allow our more favored activities, like those that bring more immediate and concrete results, to divert the activity that should be going into all our activities. For any such activity in our lives which starts to grow out of all due proportion, siphoning off time and energy from some other duty, is an abuse; it is too much of a good thing; it is a spiritual cancer. We must bd constantly on our guard against the manifesta-tions of this disease because, like its physical counterpart, it will have begun long before we become aware of it. The insidious-ness here lies in the fact that we have within ourselves the germs of the disease because, for most of us, activity of some sort is our way of life, our prime means of doing .God's will. And it is so easy for one phase or other of this activity to get out of hand, to start growing out of all due proportion, thriving perhaps, but only to the detriment of our whole spiritual or- 38 Janua~'y, 1958 SPIRITUAL CAN(~ER ganism. Since activity, then, is the way by which we serve God, it is so easy ~or us to play the doctor in our own case and give a false diagnosis to our symptoms, admitting perhaps the begin-nings of an excited growth but misinterpreting the symptoms as a case of increased fervor in doing God's work. If God is pleased with this much activity, we say, then He will be twice as pleased with twice as much. Like the man who reads the prescription on the medicine bottle then doubles it, convinced that he will get well twice as fast. Such a dangerous spiritual bedside manner in dealing with our own ailments can lead to only one conclusion: an ever-spreading cancer which will soon sap our entire spiritual nourishment leaving us spiritually ema-ciated and all under the guise of giving God a service which He most assuredly does not want. The activities in our dedicated lives by which we serve God are numberless. As long as their growth is normal and in har-mony with the growth of our whole spiritual structure, our spiritual li~e will be sound and healthy. But let's look at a ~ew pertinent instances of activities that could, if we are not watchful, begin to grow malignantly. For those o~ us who teach school on any level whatsoever, there is little question of what to do with our superfluous time since that precious commodity is practically non-existent in-this glorious activity. But because there is no proportion at all be-tween the time spent in preparation for and actually spent in the classroom and the time formally spent in meditation, examen, and spiritual reading, we might come to the sad conclusion that the one which takes the more time is the more important. If that becomes the case, then it won't be long before there is a big-business merger and even the little time which was once spent in spiritual duties will be absorbed by the larger enterprise. Prognosis? Incipient malignant cancer. However, we might justify this course oi: action by saying that we have thereby be-come a better teacher. After all, we argue, if it's God's will that I teach others that I may bring more and more souls to 39 FRANCIS J. MACENTEE Review for Religious love Him an°d to save their souls, then anything I can do to make myself a better instrument will be furthering God's glory. The fallacy there is that we are judging only by externals. We forget that God can raise up. better instruments from the stones in the street. What if the time plundered from spiritual activi-ties did give us the appearance of a better teacher, how would we then differ from the good lay teacher on our faculty? Another phase of teaching that might blight this great activity with an unhealthy growth is the element of competition involved. We want our classes to do well, for their own sakes, of course, but also to some extent for our sakes too. For if they don't do as well as other similar classes, the reflection will be on us; and we will be in a bad light not only in the eyes of our fellow teachers but perhaps also in the eyes of superiors. Therefore, we start giving undue time to class preparation and class work in general in order to fill up what we label a defilzit; but in the process we lay the groundwork for a deficiency of a much higher magnitude. We are deluded into thinking that success depends entirely on ourselves so that, if we're not an apparent success, there is a fault involved and the fault c.'-n be only our own. We ignore the palpable fact that God can make greater use of the not-so-successful teacher who depends totally on Him than on the obviously successful one who is just as obviously self-pleased with the whole thing. When we begin to realize that God doesn't look solely at results (which unfortun-ately are almost our sole criterion of judgment), that He looks first at the motive and effort involved, then we will see that our opinion about any teacher or anything else, for that matter, might be quite different from God's. The same thing would apply to the student. When the nourishment for our spiritual life begins to feed the abnormal appetite which studying can easily become, then it is high time for a spiritual check-up to see that the instrument which is being honed for Christ's service does not slice us too thin. Studying 4O Janua~'y, 1958 SPIRITUAL CANCER is just another activity which we undertake for Christ's greater glory. Success is welcome, but it is certainly not the be-all and end-all of the undertaking. God demands first our pure inten-tion, great effort, and continual complete dedication. From there on in, it's His affair. If He wants others to reap the academic fruits, what is that to us? Again, the fallacy of judging success only by the results produced. Despite all "the changes in our way of life, despite loud mass production and speedy efficiency, growth in the spiritual~ life is a delicate thing that needs a sustained climate of quiet, inward ¯ peace, and recollection. Nervous effusions to exterior things and a one-sided dedication to activity which results in making ar~ end. out of what should be only a means are so many strangling weeds that make spiritual growth impossible. The only growth they foster is an abnormal one, a growth that drains off spiritual vitality, a growth that is cancerous. For Your In[ormal~ion (continued from page 36) 1955-1957. During these years we published 67 articles. This does not include translations of papal addresses, compilations of papal statements, and the surveys of Roman documents made by Father Smith. Of these 67 articles, 35 were by Jesuits, 32 by non-Jesuits. We might add that anyone who contributes an article should confer our "Notes for Contributors," which were published in the REVIEW, March, 1955, pp. 104-112, and July, 1955, pp. 194-196. 41 Survey oJ: Roman Document:s R. F. Smil:h, S.J. IN THE PRESENT survey there will be given a summary, of the documents which appeared in Acta Apostolicae Sedis (AAS) from August 24, 1957, to September 25, 1957, in-clusive. Page references throughout the article will be to the 1957 AAS (v. 49). Our Lady On July 2, 1957 (AAS, pp. 605-19), the Holy Father published a new encyclical, Le P~lerinage de Lourdes (The Pilgrima~/e o/ Lourdes). The document was directly ad-dressed to the Church in France on the occasion of the coming centenary of our Lady's appearances at Lourdes, but granted the international extent of devotion to our Lady of Lourdes the encyclical is of great interest to the entire Church. The en-cyclical is divided into two parts, the first of which begins by sketching what may be termed the Marian history of France. So notable has been France's devotion to our Lady, remarks. the Pontiff, that today the entire country lies under the protec-tive shadows of Marian sanctuaries--humble chapels or splendid basilicas as the case may be. There is good reason to say that this Marian history of France culminated in the nineteenth cen-tury. It was then, for instance, that our Lady gave the miracu-lous medal to a humble daughter of St. Vincent de Paul; and a few years later in 1858 she appeared to St. Bernadette at Lourdes which from then on became a pilgrimage center for the sick, the afflicted, and the truth-seekers of the entire world. The Pope then notes that the hundred years that have passed since Our Lady's appearances at Lourdes have seen an ever stronger relationship between the See of Peter and the grotto of the appearances. Indeed, the relationship was present 42 ROMAN DOCUMENTS from the beginning, for it would seem that what the Holy Father had infallibly defined a few years previously the Blessed Virgin wished to confirm by her own words, since she appeared to Bernadette with the message: "I am the Immaculate Conception." Since then each of the Romari Pontiffs has eagerly shown his favor toward the sanctuary of Lourdes. Pius IX showered bene-fits on the shrine erected there and ordered the coronation of its statue of our Lady; Leo XIII granted a proper office and Mass for the feast 6f the Appearance of Our Lady Immaculate. St. Plus X introduced the cause of Bernadette; and above all the sainted Pontiff emphasized the remarkable manner in which Marian piety at Lourdes led to an equally remarkable worship of Christ in the Blessed Sacrament. Benedict XV permitted the bishop of Tarbes and Lourdes to wear the pallium at the place of the appearances, while Pius XI beatified Bernadette and chose to close the jubilee year of the Redemption at the shrine of Lourdes. Plus XII then concludes this first part of the encyclical by recalling his own endeavor to continue the relationship between the Roman See and Lourdes, an endeavor which was manifested most recently by the closing at Lourdes of the centenary year of the dogma of the Immaculate Conception. The second part of the encyclical is devoted to a considera-tion of the spiritual lessons of Lourdes; these lessons, notes the Vicar o~Christ, are but echoes of the gospel message, for, like John theB, aptist and like Christ .Himself at the beginning of His public life, our Lady called at Lourdes for l~enance and con-version. At the same time she brought a message of pardon and hope for those who do repent; indeed just as the miraculous cures of Christ were but signs of the power and readiness of Christ to forgive sins, so also the physical cures at Lourdes are invitations to hope for pardon. The centenary jubilee at Lourdes, continues the Holy Father, will possess grandeur only in so far as men respond to these messages of our Lady. Each pilgrim to Lourdes and each Catholic throughout the world who is united in spirit to the 43 Review for Religious centenary celebrations at the shrine should realize in himself a true spiritual conversion. The conversion of the individual, however, is not enough; rather the faithful must be aroused to a collective effort directed towards the Christian re;aewal of society. This will be shown by a reaction to that materialism which manifests itself not only in the philosophy that presides over the political and economic affairs of a large segment of humanity but also externalizes itself in a greed for money, a cult of the body, a flight from all austerity, and an unrestrained pursuit of pleasure. The Holy Father then urges priests to preach to their people the narrow path that leads to life, reminding them that they, like Mary, must live only to give Christ to the world. So too religious must seek the same end by their weapons of prayer, penance, and charity. Families, too, should do their part by considering the irreplaceable mission they have in society; they should consecrate themselves to the Immaculate Heart of Mary, asking her to remove from their lives all false judgments and egoistic actions. In a moving conclusion to the encyclical the Holy Father addresses the poor and those in bodily or spiritual afflic.tion, urging them to journey to Lourdes where they.will be received with special predilection by our Lady who knows the value of their sufferings when these are united with those of Christ. There can be no doubt, declares the Pope, that the prayers and sufferings of such will play a great part in the Christian renewal of the human race. As his final message the Holy Father makes his own the words of St. Bernard: "In.dangers, in diffichlties, in doubts, think of Mary, call on Mary." Social Matters On June 7, 1957 (AAS, pp. 621-29), the Holy Father addressed a group of Italian workers on the problems attendant on automation. While, as the Pontiff points out, the existence of automation should arouse in the Christian a grateful admira- 44 Janua~'y, 1958 ROMAN DOCUMENTS tion for the Creator and His works, still one should not think that automation of and by itself can radically change the life of man and society--such an admission belongs to Marxism with its false emphasis on the technical side of human life. For social reality and its stable ordering cannot be based only on statistics and mathematics; social life demands besides and prin-cipally other knowledges: theology, philosophy, and the sciences of the spiritual life of man and of his history. Moreover, the Vicar of Christ continues, it should be re-membered that automation, even when considered merely as a new method of production, will give rise to delicate problems. The first is that technical productivity may be confused with economic productivity. Automation offers a continuous, unin-terrupted process of production and hence a fantastic increase of productive capacity. But this does not necessarily constitute a true increase in the productivity of the national economy. This is why even the European countries who possess the best eco-nomic qualifications for automation approach automation with caution and content themselves with only a partial form of it. In any case a country that is not rich and is faced with urgent problems of communication systems, of land reforms, and of adequate housing must not live above its conditions--as it would if it were dominated solely by the fascination of technical progress. Moreover, adds the Pope, the introduction of automation may cause serious unemployment. Even if this problem can eventually be o,~ercome, it still must be remembered that even a temporary increase of unemployment can be a serious matter for certain countries. Added to this is the consideration that under automation the entire question of salaries wiil have to be com-pletely reconsidered. Prior to automation human labor is part of the very process of production and the value of labor can be determined by what it contributes to the production; under automation, however, the worker will be above and outside the 45 Review for Religious actual process of production; hence there will be need for new criteria of estimating the value of labor. So great and so many are the problems connected with a~tomation, the Holy Father warns, that some think that these problems cannot be resolved except by some form of socialism, involving a greater or lesser abolition of private property. It is true, he says, that in an era of automation a greater degree of planning will be needed, but this should not lead to a more or less absolute control, for the independence of the family and the liberty of the citizen are naturally bound up with the sane existence of private property as a social institution. Automation will also give rise to problems connected with the training of the worker; under automation technical training of the highest type will be required; moreover, the worker will not be able to be highly .specialized but "will require a training sufficiently versatile to embrace the functioning and coordinating of greatly differing machines. Such training, however, cannot be given rapidly, but will necessarily entail a long apprenticeship both in the place of production as well as in specialized schools. Moreover, the education given to the worker must also provide for his general culture; only in this way will the worker be able to solve the problem of leisure time which automation will bring to him. In this connection, the Holy Father adds, it must be noted that automation can easily produce a grave danger to personal morality and hence to the sane structure of production and consumption in the national economy. It is for this reason that under automation professional formation must include the general education of the worker. On July .23, 1957 (AAS, pp. 730-37), the Holy Father addressed a group of bishops and priests from all the dioceses of Italy who constituted the first meeting of the Italian Catholic Congress for Emigration. The Pontiff urged his audience to apply to themselves and their work the parable of the Good Shepherd and told them that the basis of their work for emi- 46 Janua~'y, 1958 ROMAN DOCUMENTS grants must'be a supernatural charity that is at once intensive, universal, and disinterested. It is this and not a mere humani-tarian sympathy that will make of them good shepherds of the people they work with. This charity, he continues, must be reduced to effective action by which they become all things to all men. Hence the Vicar of Christ urges them to devote themselves to the careful preparation of the emigrants for the new country to which they are going. They should give the emigrants instructions in the language and customs of the country to which they are going and above all impress on the emigrants by their zealot's work a remembrance of the maternal solicitude of the Church. Finally, the Holy Father takes up the case of the priest who himself emigrates with a group to another country. Such a priest will have special need .of a right intention which wi!l remove from him the danger of a merely nationalistic motive and which will prevent his group from seeing in him, not a missionary, but a mercenary. As a pastor of the group of emi-grants the priest must be alert to the needs of his flock, take care that they gradually adapt themselves to their new country, and at all times treat them with the highest degree of patience. On June 13, 1957 ('AAS, pp. 629-32), the Pontiff addressed the Congress of Europe, a group dedicated to the unification of Europe. The Holy Father recalled his own interest in the idea of European unity, noted the progress made towards this goal since the conclusion of World War II, and encouraged his listeners to ~ontinue their efforts for a political unification of the countries of Europe. He also urged them to advocate a large and comprehensive aid on the part of Europe to Africa, so that it can be clearly seen that the desire for a European community is not merely a selfish reflex of defense against a common encroaching enemy but proceeds rather from constructive and disinterested motives. Finally, the Pope recalled to them the nature of Christianity which offers 47 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious to all men an unshakable assurance of a fatherland which is not of this world and where alone perfect union will be known, because it proceeds from the power and light of God Himself. On June 27, 1957 (AAS, pp. 632-33), Pius XII addressed the third convention of the Atlantic Treaty Association, encour-aging them in their work to enlist the cooperation of schools in the task of spreading knowledge of the union that exists between all men. Miscellaneous Matters By a declaration of August 20, 1957 (AAS, p. 762), the Sacred Congregation of Rites took up the question of the use of vestments made according to .their ancient form. The use of such vestments is now left to the discretion of the local ordinary. The Sacred Congregation of the Council issued a decree dated July 25, 1957 (AAS, p. 638), transferring the obligation of fast and abstinence from the vigil of the feast of the Assumption to the vigil of the feast of the Immaculate Conception. Two documents published during August-September, 1957, deal with causes of beatification and canonization. In the first, which is. dated March 3, 1957 (AAS, pp. 756-59), the Sacred Congregation of Rites approved the introduction of the cause of the young layman, Zephyrinus Numuncur~ (1886-1905). In the second, dated April 9, 1957 (AAS, pp. 759-62), the same congregation approved the introduction of the cause of the Servant of God Frances de Sales Aviat (1844-1914), found-ress of the Congregation of the Oblate Sisters of St. Francis de Sales. Four documents of the same period pertain to priests and religious. On July 16, 1957 (AAS, p. 637), the Sacred Congre-gation of the Council forbade priests, whether secular or religi-ous, to engage actively in Hungarian politics. They are forbidden to seek or accept any position in the Hungarian Parliament; and if they presently hold such a position, they must resign it within a 48 Janua~'y, 1958 ROMAN .DOCUMENTS month; they are moreover forbidden to attend s~ssions of the parliament and to give help to any activities connected With the position they have resigned. A priest disobeying an); of the above prescription~ incurs by that very fact an excommunication specially served to the Holy See. ¯ " On July 12, 1957 (AAS, p. 640), the Sacred Congrega-tion of Seminaries and Universities issued a decree bidding bishops not to admit to their seminaries students who have left any diocesan seminary or who have been dismissed from any such .seminary. If in a given case such a person should be thought worthy of admission, th'e bishop, besides fulfilling the requirements of Canon 13.63, §3, should' apply to the Sacred. Congregation of Seminaries and Universities for further direc-tions. On July 1, 1957 (AAS, p. 751)., the Sacred Congrega-tion of Religious inaugurated the Pontifical Institute "Iesus Magis~er" " ("Jesus the Teacher"). The new institute is in-tended f0~ members of n0n-clerical congregations of religious men and other similar groups; the institute will provide training to einable ~uch religious to be. better fitted to promote the sanc-tification of themselve~ and of others and to imbue their students with Christian truth and virtue. The same congregation in a decree of March 15, i957o (AAS, pp. 749-50), promulgated, the canonical erdctionof a school to be called "Mater Divinae Gr.atiae" ("Mother of Divine Grace") des~tlned foi the training of mistresses of postulants, of novices, and Of younger religious women. The school offers a three-year course which¯ is open to members of a.ny state of per-fection for women. The school is tinder the jurisdiction of the Sacred Congregation of Religious and has its own statutes ap-proved by th~ same qongregation. Under date of July 1, 19.57(AAS, pp. 737-39), the 'Holy Father sent a written message tothe Catholic BoyScouts attending the .international jamboree, held in England on the 49 R. F. SMITH occasion of the fiftieth anniversary of the. founding of the movement. The Pope expressed his satisfaction at the vitality and expansion of the scout movement among Catholic youth and urged them to prepare themselves for their future place in the world by developiag the compreher~sive friendship that translates itself into, the disinterested service characteristic of the scout movement. He also encouraged them to be proud of their purity, their courage, and their nobility; he concluded by suggesting to them that. at Mass they raise their ideal of Catholic scouthood to the heights of the divine Master who came among us to serve and to give Himself. Two documents of the Sacred Congregation of Sem-inaries and Universities deal with general educational matters. In the first of these, dated April 25, 1957 (AAS, pp. 638-40), the congregation canonically established the Catholic Uni-versity of Leopoldville in the Belgian Congo. The new uni-. versity will include a faculty of sacred theology. In the second document, dated May 4, 1957 (AAS, pp. 753:55), the Catholic University of St. Thomas of Villanova in Havana was officially established. Finally/ it should be noted that AAS on pp. 663-89 lists the 261 matrimonial cases which were decided by the Rota during the year 1956. OUR CONTRIBUTORS THOMAS DUBAY teaches philosophy and ascetical theology at Notre Dame Seminary, 2901 S. Carrollton Avenue, New Orleans 18, Louisiana. R. F. SMITH is a member of .the faculty of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, K~nsas. FRANCIS J. MacENTEE is studying for his doctorate in bacteriology at Catholic Uaiversity, Carroll House, 1225 Otis Street .Northeast, Washington 17, D. C. 50 Book Reviews [Material for this department should be sent to Book Review' Editor, REVIEW FOR.RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana.] SON OF THE CHURCH. By Louis Lochet. Translated from the French by Albert J. LaMothe, Jr. Pp. 255. Fides Pub-lishers Association, Chicago 19. 1956. $4.50. Son of the Church is a penetrating analysis of ~he spirituality of the. apostolate, 'written as a series of personal insights and not as a formal treatise. Its purpose is to give the reader the benefit of years of reflection on the character of apostolic action by a former professor of theology who is now parish priest in the diocese of Reims. His thesis is that work in the apostolate, for cleric, religious, and layman, must be done with and through the Church in order to be truly effective. "Lacking that, it founders in absurdity and despair." In tracing this theme, the author shows a solid grasp of human psychology which he integrates with the basic principles of ecclesi-ology, especially of the Mystical Body. Among the temptations that face the apostle, the greatest is "the latent rationalization of all our difficulties [which sees] only what we are doing and not what God is doing. What we do hides from us what God does. It is a short and narrow view of our activity and that of the Church, on the level of what we know of it through history and experience alone." True to the mission of her Founder, the Church is described as a manifestation of divine love, and not only of love but of mercy. Accordingly, the apostle is not to be surprised at running into obstacles of sin, as Christ did. "The love he bears the world is a redeeming love. This is what he has to understand if he does not wish to be disconcerted by the difficulty of the mission. It is not by some strange accident that he meets with coldness, disdain or hatred. It is as the law of his development." Perhaps the outstanding chapter in the book deals with the proper dispositions of anyone engaged in the apostolic life. First must be the conviction that the heart of the apostolate consists in subordinating oneself to the hierarchical authority of the Church. Correlative to this dependence is the realization that the principal object of apostolic labor is to bring the world into the Church's sacramental order--b~ receiving the sacraments in greater numbers, with greater frequency, 51 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious increased fervor, find consequently greater efficacy. As an expression of this zeal, the. apostle desires to bring all men into the Mystical Body of Christ, at least to the extent that the Church is every.where implanted with her life-giving channels of grace. However the per-spective must be. kept very clear. A person "who would want to reduce his activity to promoting a better social orgariization or to spreading a temporal beneficence without referring it all to the restoration of the Church by faith in Christ and the sacramental life would no'longer be doing apostolic work." Since the task of bringing souls to God is supernatural, it does not finally rest on the resources of human power~ to succeed--not even those of the apostle. If he .employs all his native ingenuity, "it is not so much in the mahner of a wealth which God needs as of a poverty which God is willing to use for a tran-scendent goal." Corollary to this reliance on grace is the value to be set on self-renunciation. "One will not avoid the mystery of the Cross . Far from fleeing it, we will welcome it as the means par .excellence of realizing the greatest ambitions." In many ways, LocKet has written an excellent book. If on occasion the diction is a bit verbose, this is more than compensated for by the wealth of ideas covering the whole range of apostolic asceticism. It differs considerably from P~i:e Chautard'.s classic on tl~e same subject. Lochet is more cor~cerned with theological integra-tion than with direct motivation. There is also less coherent logic hmong the various parts; something in the style of the Imitation of Christ. For that reason almost any page can be quoted out of con-text withodt losing its inherent meaning. Son of the Church is highly recommended to priests and religious as a doctrinal synthesis of Catholic evangelism.--JoHN A. HARDO,XT, THE CROSS OF JESUS. Voi. I. By Louis Chardon, O.P. Trans-lated from the French by Richard T. Murphy, O.P~ Pp. 304. B. Herder Book ComPany, St. Louis 2. 1957. $4.25. The Dominican Father~ have presented us with another spiritual masterpiece in the "Cross and Crown Series of Spirituality." Written by Father Louis Chardon, O.P., Tl~e Cross of Jesus was published in France in 1647. Thanks to the fine work of the translator, the first volume is now available in English. The Cross of Jesus is not the type of book one rushes through. if given the attention any good spiritual I~ook requires, it will cer-tainly prove profitable. The content is solid; the theme.is simple: 52 January, 1958 BOOK REVIEWS Growth in holiness is achieved through the cross. Although the ideals are lofty ones, they are not set forth merely for mystics. Heeding Jesus' command to take up the cross daily, all holy souls will find guidance and consolation in this book. Father Charddn makes no compromises. He leaves nb doubt as to the necessity of p~arification through the.cross before a s0ul can be united with Jesus. This austere message, however, seems less sdvere when we read the chapters on thesuffe.rings of Jesus and His Mother. It strikes us as quite logical after we read of our place in the Mystical Body of Christ. Most important of all, we are assured that purification is effected by our cooperating with grace and the indwelling Trinity--a doctrine that is beautifully treated by the authoL In all, there are forty-eight chapters. The.relative brevity of most of them seems to be a marked advantage. In each chapter a distinct message is conveyed and understood withbut the necessity of reading dozens of pages. ¯ This book could also be used for meditation material. As indi-cated above, a number of doctrines of the. spiritual life are discussed --/~11 with reference to the cross.' Father Chardon cites Scripture for added effectiveness. Moreover, his exclamations ~nd invocations give The Cross of Jesus a warmth and unction that is often either lacking or overdone in spiritual, writings.' Finally, this re~ciewer wants to congratulate Father. Ri~:hard T. Murphy, O.P., for his very readable translation. Seventeenth-century French does present difficulties which often show up in. English' trans-lations. This cannot be said of the English edition of The Cross of Jesus.--DoNALD O. NASTOLD~ .S.J. CHINA AND THE CROSS; A SURVEY OF MISSIONARY HIS-TORY. By Dom Columba Cary-Elwes, O.S.B. Pp. 323. P.J. Kenedy and Sons, New York 8. 1957. $3.95. Shakespearean Sonnet 116 con~(eys, poetically the spirit of Dom Cary-Elwes's latest work. With an insight which is the fruit of twenty-five years of resea.rch, this artist dep~ct.s vividly the scenes of Cath-olic victories as Christ's mind marries China's amid "tempests, and is never shaken." This is the first Catholic work of this type since Abbe Huc's Christianityin China, Tartary, and Thibet in 1858. As thd author asserts, the eastward expansibr~ iof the Ch~arch is an inspira-tional story, not something freakish and unique. His labor, which is based on the latest evidence, proves his statement. 53 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious The book is divided into five chapters: "The Legend of St. Thomas the Apostle," "The Nestorians," "The Franciscans in Cathay," "The Jesuit Age," and "Modern Times." Some summary of the contents of these chaptegs will amply support this reviewer's opinion that Dom Cary-Elwes has penned an exposition which covers the essential points of the history of Chinese Christianity and which contains facts and colorful incidents which appeal to the scholarly, as well as the casual, reader. Latest evidence indicates that St. Thomas the Apostle never set foot on China. Earliest Christians were the Nestorians who landed at Cathay in the seventh century. Tamberlaine was the death-knell of the Nestorian Church. New hope for conversion comes with the Franciscans. Friar John o~ Pian di Carpina, intrepid explorer, arrives at the command of Innocent IV. William of Rubruck, "John of Montecorvino, and others follow with tenacity of purpose. Clement V at Avignon orders that seven Franciscans be raised to the episcopate, and they in turn would consecrate Friar John archbishop ~nd patriarch oi: the whole East. When the Ming dynasty won its way: to the imperial throne, the immense labors of the Franciscans terminated in the wake of violent persecution. Then came the Jesuits. Saint Francis Xavier, "for whom nothing was impossible with God," died off the coast of China in 1552, In that very year was born his greatest successor, Father Matteo Ricci, S.J., whose discreet guidance of missionary activity in China wins the highest praise from the author. F~llowing the Pauline "Go in their door . . ," Ricci builds a r~/¢rocl~elnent between himself and the tradition of China. The Jesuit showed the similarity between the moral teaching of Confucius and that of Christianity. In general, Dom Cary-Elwes judges that the Jesuits met with success as long as they followed the Riccian teaching of not exciting the Chinese by imprudent acts of proselytism. The author's explanation of the famous Rites Controversy is clear, accurate, and prudent. The possibility .that the Jesuits are condoning certain pagan rituals in observance of the memory of Confucius prompts the Holy See to pronounce in 1704 against the Jesuit position. The fact that this decision was reversed in 1939 leads the writer to state: "It is not for us to sit 'in judgment on that decision [1704]. There were cogent reasons in favor of that judgment then. Today those reasons no longer hold, and the Holy See has thought fit to 54 January, 1958 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS reverse that decision in the year 1939" (p. 160). The Jesuits fade from the picture with Clement XIV's Dominus et Redemptor. They will return, Dom Cary-Elwes predicts, "if love is stronger than death." The remainder of the book cites modern conditions: the rapid rise of Communist control, uncanny persecution of the faithful, the work of the Maryknolls, the .Catholic school system in China, the elevation of Cardinal Tien, and the fundamental reason why merely philanthropic Christians become Communists. For the informed reader of Chinese history, Dom Cary-Elwes synthesizes centuries of Christian activity in a scholarly, carefully annotated volume. For the uninformed, he presents a colorful and factual account of the history of the Church in China. For both, he instills with his information the desire to see one yet unwritten chapter: "The Conversion of China to Catholicism." --JAMES J. CREIGHTON, S.J. SARDAR PANNIKAR AND CHRISTIAN MISSIONS. By Jerome D'Souza, S.J. pp. 146. St. Joseph's Industrial School Press, Trichinopoly, India. 1957. One rupee. A grand old pagan of the Roman Empire confronts his Augustine in this book--with differences. St. Augustine heard the accusation that Christianity was destroying Roman civilization, and he wrote the great De Civitate Dei. The Catholic Church, which has been growing up in India gince the days of St. Thomas the Apostle, hears the accusation that Christianity is destroying the civilizations of India and Asia. Here is an answer worthy of a smaller brother of the great Augustine himself. The.author, a member of the India dele-gation to the General Assembly of the United Nations, finds the latest and greatest exponent of this accusation, the former India am-bassador to Red China, "biassed" in his approach to the missions and possessed of "insufficient" knowledge and of "harsh" judgment. Any-one interested in the missions and missio[ogy wil| profit by this frank and friendly and fearless volume.--PauL DE,X,T, S.J. BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS THE BRUCE PUBLISHING COMPANY, .400 N. Broadway, Mil-waukee 1, Wisconsin. Common Sense. By Joseph McSorley, C.S.P. We read essays on spiritual or religious topics to acquire new knowledge or new or 55 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religious renewed motivation. We do not expect to find, and all too often do not find, gems of the essayist's craft. In .Common Sense each of the thirty-one essays might well be .taken ~s a model of what essays on the spiritual life can and should be. Reading the book is almost as inspiring and refreshing as a personal visit with. the author would be. Pp. 136. $2.75. CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY OF AMERICA PRESS, 620 Michigan Avenue, N.E., Washington, D. C. The Supreme Moderator of. Clerical Exempt Religious Institutes. A Historical Conspectus and Canonical Commentary. By Maurice J'. Grajew~ki, O.F.M. This is a dissertation submitted to the faculty of the Catholic University ofAmerica in partial fulfillment of the requirement~ for the degree of Doctor of. Canon Law. Pp. 180. Paper $2.00. FIDES PUBLISHERS ASSOCIATION, .744 E. 79th Street,Chi-cago 19, Illinois. Marriage Is Holy~ Edited by H. Caffarel. Translatdd by Ber-nard G. Murchli~nd, C.S.C. A group 0f Christian families meeting with their chaplains to discuss their common problems are responsible for .the various essays whicl~ are the chapters of this book. .There is a tKirty-six page appe~di~ which contains synopses and discussion questions. It is one of the volumes of the "Fidds Family Readers." Pp. 219. $3.75. GRAIL PUBLICATIONS; St. Meinrad, Indiana. .Queen of the Universe. An Anthology on the Assumption and Queenship of Ma~y. Edited by Brother Stanley G. Mathews, S.M. This i~ thd secohd volume of the "Marian .Library Series of An-thologies." The first was The Promised Woman (Grail, 1954). In the present volume .you will find all the. most recent pronouncements'of the Holy See as well as the most recent theological researcl~ .on two ~rerogativ.es of our Lady, her Assumpti6n and her Queenship. Here .is a volume well c~lculated to increase our love for her who is both" the Mother of God and our Mother." Pp. 258. $4.00. P. J. KENEDY & SONSI .12 Barclay Street, New York 8, New The Hermit of Cat Island. The Life of Fra Jerom~ Hawes. By Peter F. Anson. Monsignor ~'ohr~ C. Hawks, the future hermit.of Cat. Island, led a ver~ full and c6lorful lifd. He was born ~n September 7, 1876, of Anglican parents, became an architect who sp~cial!zi:d in 56 J~nua~'y, 1958 ~BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS ecclesiastical 'architecture, then became an Anglican Clergyman and went as a missionary to the Bahamas in 1908. He designed and built Anglican churches while acting as pastor on Long Island. He became a Catholic in 1911, was ordainedin Rome in 1915, and then took up missionary life, until 1939, in Australia where he designed and built many churches, monasteries, and convents. He was made a domestic prelate in 1937. He led the life of a hermit for seventeen yearg on Cat Island, one ofthe Bahamas. He died on June 26, 1956, and is buried near his hermitage as he requested. The author has given us an interesting and profitable, book. Pp. 286. $4.75. THE NEWMAN PRESS, Westminster, Maryland. Communal Life. Edited by Albert PIE, O.P. Translated by a Religious of the Sacred Heart. This is Volume VIII in the justly '. popular "Religious Life Series." It deals with that essential element of the religious life, common life, from many points of view, historic-ally, canonically, ascetically; it does not neglect the contributions of modern psychology; and it points out adaptations that must be made in view of the background that modern youth bring to religious life. Pp. 320. $4.50. The Insight of the Cur~ D'Ars. Selected Stories by Msgr. Francis Trochu. Translated by V. F. Martel. The fifty stories of this volume, all illustrative of the mystical insight of the Cur~ D'Ars into the secrets of souls, make very interesting reading and furnish "much material for reflection. Pp. 103. $1.75. THE PRIORY PRESS, Asbury Road, Dubuque, Iowa. Toward Marriage in Christ. By Thomas C. Donlon, Francis L. B~ Cunningham, and Augustine Rock, all of the Order of St. Dominic. The book is the first of a new series entitled "College Texts in The-ology." Unlike most books on marriage, this one was written to be ¯ used as a textbook; hence with the requirements of college students and college class procedures in mind. It contains a nine-page bib-liography. Pp. 199. Paper $1.50. SHEED & WARD, 840 Broadway, New York 3, New York. Theology for "Beginners. By F. J. Sheed. Perhaps the greatest single need of the average Catholic layman today is a better knowledge of the faith that is the norm he lives by; a knowledge that will enable him to give a satisfactory answer to the non-Catholic who may agk him the reasons for his faith and conduct; a knowledge too that will BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religious lead him to a more intelligent practice of hig faith. An excellent introduction to that knowledge is Theology for Beginners, writte~ by a layman who has received the degree of Doctor of Sacred Theology l~onoris causa. The book could also serve as an excellent text for study clubs. Pp. 241. $3.00. M~re Marie of the Ursulines. By Agnes Repplier. This gripping biography of M~re Marie who founded the first convent school in North America in 1639 was first published in 1931. If you have not al-ready read the book, now is the time to read it. Pp. 314. $3.15. The Beginning of the English Reformation. By Hugh Ross Wil-liamson. The author, a former Anglican clergyman and a recent convert (1955) to Catholicism, gives us an excellent analysis of the complexities of the English Reformation, a period of English history widely misunderstood even today. The book is very well written as. one would expect from the author of eleven plays and a former editor of The Bookman and The Strand. Pp. 113. $2.50. In We Sing While There's Voice Left by Dom Hubert van Zeller, O.S.B., we have another interesting book on the spiritual life for the layman. It measures up fully to the high level of excellence which the author has established in his other books. Like them it is matter-of-fact, down-to-earth, and faces reality squarely. Pp. 198. $2.50. The Restless Christian. By Kilian McDonnell, O.S.B. The number of spiritual books written explicitly for the layman is gratifying. It testifies to the growing realization that the lay Catholic is called to holiness, and it supplies the necessary information and inspiration. You may recommend The Restless Christian to lay Catholics with the certain knowledge that you are giving them an effective means of progress. You may also, though you are a religious, read the book yourself with profit for your own soul. An unusual feature of the book is an eight-page list of suggested readings on the spiritual life. Pp. 183. $3.00. SISTERS OF MERCY, 8200 West Outer Drive,' Detroit 19, Michigan. Into Thy Hands. By Sister Mary E. O'Connor, R.S.M. This book of reflections intended for refectory reading for the Sundays of Recollection first appeared in mimeographed form. So many requests for copies were received that it is now available in printed form. Pp. 105. Cloth $1.75. 58 January, 1958 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS SYRIAN CARMELITE CONGREGATION, Monastery Road, Erna-kulam 1, South India. Souvenir of the First All-Kerala Religious Week, Dec. 27-30, 1955. The closing days of 1955 witnessed what was probably a unique and certainly a most profitable centenary celebration at Sacred Heart College, Thevara, in the state of Kerala in Southwest India, to mark the completion of the first century of activity of the Syrian Car-melite Congregation since its canonical erection in 1855. All the numerous orders and congregations of Kerala were invited to send delegates to a convention, not to recall the history of the congregation or to extend their felicitations, but to discuss their common religious problems and those of the South of India. Souvenir prints in full the addresses made before the convention together with a resum~ of the discussions that followed. We congratulate the Syrian Carmelite Congregation not only on the occasion of their centenary but also on the wise and profitable way that it was commemorated. It was a good preparation for the persecution the large and ancient and fervent Kerala Catholic community suffers in its schools from the Communists recently elected in the predominantly non-Christian state of Kerala. SOME BOOKS RECEIVED [Only books sent directly to the Book Review Editor, West Baden College, Wes~ Baden Springs, Indiana, are included in our Reviews and Announcements. The following books were sent to St. Mass.] Love and Marriage. By James Kelly. Clonmore and Reynolds Limited, 29 Kildare Street, Dublin. 3/-(paper cover). God's Infinite Love and Ours. By Robert Mageen, C.SS.R. Clonmore and Reynolds Limited, 29 Kildare Street, Dublin. 12,/6. Come, O Holy Ghost! By Adrian Lyons, O.F.M. Clonmore and Reynolds Limited, 29 Kildare Street, Dublin. 12/6. A Dangerous Little Friar. The Life of Father Titus Brandsma, O.Carm. By Josse Alzin. Clonmore and Reynolds Limited, 29 Kildare Street, Dublin. 9/6. 59 ( ues ons and Answers ['The following answers are given by Father Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland.] DuringLent should a priest celebrate the Mass of the ferial day or of an occurring feast? On a dm. or d. feast that falls between Ash Wednesday and the Saturday before Palm Sunday, an ember day except tl~ose of Pente-cost, Rogation Monday (Monday before Ascension), or a common vigil, the Mass may be either of the feast in the festal, not votive, manner or of the ferial day or vigil. However, since liturgically the Temporale is preferred to the Sanctorale and the full celebration of a vigil is desirable, the preferred Mass liturgically is that of the ferial day or vigil. If the feast, is ~ d. 1 or 2 cl., it must be celebrated. If the feast is only of s. rite or a mere commemoration, the Mass of the ferial day or .vigil must be said. On din. and d. feasts during the same period of Lent and Passion-tide only, the private recitation oi: the office may be of the feast or of the ferial day. Cf. J. O'Connell, Tl~e Celebration o[ Mass, 54; Mueller- Ellis, l-Iandbook of Ceremonies, 42; Wuest-Mullaney-Barry, )l~fatters Liturgical, n. 280. Our constitutions permit a renewal of temporary vows to be an-ticipated by a month. When does such an anticipated renewal or new profession begin to run? Your constitutions are. merely stating the law of the code. The following three important ~oints are to be kept in mind in an antici-pated renewal. (a) .Length of anticipation. Canon 577, § 2, permits an anticipated renewal of tempo.rary vows but not by more than a month. Therefore, if the profession is to expire on August 15, 1957, the anticipated renewal may not be made before July 15, 1957. Berutti, De Religiosis, 2i0; Jone, Commentarium in Codicem luris Canonici, I, 506; Cervia, De Pro/essione Religiosa, 114. 60 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS (b) Competent superior. In the law of the code, the anticipation as such may be permitted by any superior, whether higher or minor local (c. 577, § 2). However, the right here is only to permit an anticipation. Since the renewal is a juridical profession, all the requisites of suoh a profession must be observed; and therefore ~he admission to this anticipated profession must be made by the competent higher superior with the vote of the council or chapter according to the constitutions (cc. 543; "575, § 2). In constitutions an anticipa-tion is usually reserved to higher superiors or to a partictilar higher superior. (c) .When does the anticipated renewal begin to run? In the example given above of a profession that expires on August 15, 1957, and is anticipated on July 15, 1957, does the new l~rofession begin to run from August 15 or July 15? This depends on the intention of the one making the profession, which is presumed to be according to the way the matter is understood in the particular institute. Ordi-narily the understanding is that the anticipated renewal begins to run from the time when the former profession is completed, i. e., August 15. If such an understanding does not exist in the institute, the presumption is that the intention was for the new profession to begin to run from July 15. Explicit instruction should be given to the ren-ovants on this matter, since it is possible that the subject would be without vows for a month of the triennium; and consequently the perpetual profession would be invalid. The better method is to intend that the new profession begin to run from August 15. Cf. Goyeneche, Quaestiones C.anonicae, I, 442143; De Carlo, Jus Religiosorum, n. 300; Creusen, Revue des Cotnntunautes Religieuse's, 18-1946-184-85; Choupin, Nature et Obligations de l'Etat Religieux; 301-2; Jombart, Trait[ de Droit Canonique, I, 626. m3-- My family~ or close relatives give me five or ten dollars or more because I am their relative. The money therefore constitutes, a personal gift. When the money is turned in, is it contrary to poverty to ask to use it for a definite purpose? The norm for asking and giving permission in the matter of poverty is the need of the religious according to the limit in quantity and quality of material things prescribed by the law or legitimate traditions of the particular institute (c. 594, § 3). Therefore, the fa~t that yoia received a gift 'is completely indifferent in relation to 61 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religious this norm. If you had not received a gift, you would have the same right of asking for your necessities. The fact that you did receive a gift is no motive for asking and no motive for the superior to give the permission. Religious profess poverty according to their constitutions, i. e., according to the norm described above; they do not profess poverty according to their income: The gift is in some sense a positive-reason for not giving the permission, simply because it leads to the practice of poverty according to one's income. This practice eventually causes a distinction of classes in the institute, the well to do and the poor, and is contrary to canon 594, § I, which t prescribes a moral un

Issue 5.4 of the Review for Religious, 1946. ; RE VOLUME V / J,ULY 15. 1946 " Nu~BE~,~- ' , , CONTENTs "ORIGINAL SIN AND EDUCATION~Cyril VSIlert. S.J. " " 21,7 A TIMELY PAMPHLET . ¢ -.'. . , .' , 228 ~CONCE~NING DISTRACTIONS~ha'rles F. Donovan, S.J, ~ 2;29 IN CASE YOU DON'T KNOW IT~ * 232 "SAINT APPEARED TWICE"--CIem~t J. McNaspy, S.J . 233 ~ PLAN OF SELF-DENIAL WITHIN THE 'REACH OF ALL ~ "Robert B. Eitem S.J . " 239 gP~LS ~ORVOCAT~ONS ., . ~,.~ 2~ SPEAKING' OF NAMES--Claude Kean.O.F.M . DECISIONS OF THE HOLY SEE . ,249 OUR CONTRIBUTORS " . . TWO HE~RTS--W. H. Hingston S.J '. ~ 251 ANN~N~EMENT . - . ~. ~_. ~-25~ RECEPTION OF SEMINARIANS INTO RELIGIOUS INSTI~UTES~, Adam C, Ellis, S.J . :BOOKS RECEIVED . ' ~ ' 263 /QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS ' ,~ 22. Permission to Use G~ld Watch . 23.,Number of Delegates for General Chapter: Soliciting Votes 26~' 24. Use of Income from Special Fees '. . ~. 26~ 25. Religious Candidate Whose Parents Have,Bad Reputation 266~ ~ 26. Going to Confession in Order of Seniority . . ~ . 266 27. Communion Sundays ahd Contests to Promote Frequent Communion 267 28. Order of Precedence in Mdther House " " 268 BOOK REVIEWS-- ' , ~,~ The Mystical Life; Meditatio~ on the Passion: The Catholic Centre: Mission for Samaritans: Forming a Christian Mentality; How to Medi-tate; The Mystical Baldy of Christ: La ~iete Eucharistique: John Henr~ , , . Newman: Centenary Essays; The T h"ird Day Mano'logy: Mast'er and~ - Model: Dove Flights: Kyrie Elei~on:XTh~ P~ychology of Liturgical MU- " sic; The Life,of Father Pro 271 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. ~uly, 1946. Vol. V. No. 4. Pu~lisfied bi-monthly; January, March:May. July, September. and November at the C011ege.Press,4 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas. *by-St. Mary's College. St. Marys, ,~ansas, . with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered' as second class ~atter/~anuar), ~'15, "1942. at the Post O~ce, Topeka, ~Kansas. under the act of March 3:. 1879. EditgrlaL Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J. G, Augustine Ellard. S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Editorial Secretary: Alfred F. Schneider. S.J. " Copyright, 1946, by Adam C. ElliS, Permission is hereby. ~ra~n t e d for- quota't m:"n ~s. of reasonable length, provided due credit "be given this review and the auth6r.' Subscription price:, 2 dollars a year. Printed*ifi ~. Before writln~ to us,,please consult notice on inside 'back over~ ¯ ~' Or~gin~°l ~in ~nd Educa :ion Cyril Vollert, S.J. ~OST OF US who try to keep up with educational ~V~ controversies and discussions have~ become some-what surfeited with reiterated assurances that the one hope of salvaging this creaking world, so near the shoals of disaster, is education. We are told that education can save democracy, resolve the .c~lass struggle~ and confer on man. the good life.- " The striking t~I-iing is, much of this is true. But to realize'these great expectations education must be rightly conceived and rightly directed. It must be true education for man as he actually is; and it must be aimed at the right goal. Most of the. arguing about education is futile, and therefore fruitless, ' because those whd contribute the never~e.nding stream of articles, addresses, and books about education are so'often, unrealisticAn their view of the p.er~son who is to b~educate~d.or are wrong in t~eir idea.of t~e~upshot ofthe educational process. They are trying to stee~la rudderless sh~p throagh an uncharted sea to an unknown port. unless[we are right.in our notion of~the objec-tive to be a.t~ta[ned and of the~p.erson wh9 is to be educated, we are scarcely,.in a position to decide what the ~educational process ought to ~e. , . I,n this article.I s~all not pr3sume to fix the ~ltimate goal of education. Readers of this periodical know very. ~well what it is: ,God, whom we are to possess in the eternal happiness of the beatific vision. Nor shall I rashly attempt to outline an educational program. My purpose will be to describe the beneficiarydr" such a program and to indicate 217 CYRIL VOLLERT ' Reoiew /or t~elipiotts the proximate end to be achieved. The artist cannot pro-duce a masterpiece unless he knows the material he has to work on. Neither can the teacher succeed in transforming an uneducated person into an educated person unless he understands man as he actually is. The raw material of the educational' process is a boy or girl born in original sin, and still suffering the results'~ of original sin. This statement is not naive. It is not a bogy of a bygone day. It is true today and Will remain true for all time. Such a view is the only realistic view. Any other notion is false, or at least inadequate. But even tki'e truth that the person to be educated began life in original sin and still staggers under the burden of the consequences Of origi-nal sin may be distorted. To see the truth, two extremes have to be avoided: a vapid optimism and a groundless pessimism. Clear vision is n~eded, unobstructed either by rose-colored lenses or by smoked glass. The optimistic vie.w, credited by romanticists to the philosophy of Jean Jacques Rousseau but "actually as old as Pel~ag~us in the fifth century and his iritellectual ancestors, is that every man at his origin is wholly good. Let him alone; do not hamper or misdirect the natural play of his thought-processes and appetites; and he is capable of 'ifidefinite growth ingoodnegs. Signs of the break-up of the "electiv~ System" point to th~gradual abandonment of this view. But many. educators still do not know wh~t is to replace this shallow optimism. Rousseau and Eliot are no longer the .leaders to the promised land. Nevertheless the typical modern educator remains a Pelagian. /] The pessimistic view is also hoary with antiquity. Its crudest form, Manichaeism, regards all matter as evil. Therefore man, so far as he is a corporeal being, is evil. He is hopeless till he. gets out of his Body. A less irrational 218 1946 ORIGINAL SIN AND EDUCATION variety of this pessimism is the notion, characteristic of uncontaminated early Lutheranism and Protestantism generally, that original sin intrinsically corrupted man, l'eft him forever a sinner ihcapable "of morally good actions, and destroyed his free will. Nothing can really correct the depravity of Lutheran.man. His defilement can be covered up byChrist's merits, but he himself stays a sinful wretch, utterly corrupt. A trace of this idea of man, greatly diluted, is found sometimes among Catholics, even amdng educated Cath-olics and religious. They may have a notion, not very-pre-cisely formulated, that man's nature, though not wholly corrupted by original sin, was inwardly wounded so that his understanding, considered on the purely natural _level, is now intrinsically darkened and his will is intrinsically weakened. Those who harbor such an idea of man may have been Subjected to defective instruction On this point; or they may have failed rightly to grasp what was correctly taught; or they may have had teachers who repre-- se, nted a very small, and practically unimportant,-minority opinion tfiat man actually was thus injured by original sin. But there is no sound theological basis for this per: suasion. The truth is that man, coniidered simply as natural man, is as whole today, in intellect and will, as was man regarded in his purely natural endowment when he came from the creative hand of God. In other words orig-inal sin left man in no worse condition, on the purely human level of his mind and will, than he was before Adam cast his momentous decision against God. What is true in all that we hear about the disastrous effects of Adam's sin is this: the first man deliberately renounced God and thereby lost the supernatura! endow-ments which God had conferred on him for the whole 219 CYRIL VOLLER~. 'human~ race. Adam was created not Reoiew for Religious only in'a state~ of ¯ na.tural:perfecti0n, but .was elevated to.the~sonship of God by sanc._tifying grace,. Mor9o,ver,, to~ complement th!s~divine -gift and to enable Adam to preserve it for0himself and .the entire human family, God added other remarkable.gifts, notably, t_he.~gift of.integrity whereby all hispowers affd faculties were perfectly~subordinated to his. reason and.~.wi11., and the gift of immortality whereby his. body.~asi~sub~, 'jected to his~soul so that it was liberated from the necessity of fa!ling into corruption and death. These inconceivably .great bounties, all of ,,them beyond ,the capacities ,of human na°ture, Adam. received for himselt and for all his,~descend- By:_sinning Adam lost~them all~. He lost originals, jus-tice for himseff 'and fo~ his posteri.ty., His children and his children's children down to the end of time (with the unique)exception, ofo.th~ Bles'sed V4rgin'Mary).were begot-ten in.a-sta:te,.of estrangement from God. Instead' of.being ,bOrn sons. and daughters of God in sancti£ying grace: the,y. were,born.%without that relation to God,,,.the-only Fight relation.to God once God bad,elevated mankind i(in. Ada_m). to:the,supernatural level:~ ~They were born ~in,:the stat&of . ~ ~W.ith the sin inherited from" Adamgo theieffects.of, the sin:loss'[0f,the othe'r accompanying 'gifts, integrity, and im-morgality.:,,. ThereforeAdam's~children,are worse off ~ihan-he~-~ as.,.~ Forthey all come into°the,W.ofld withbut.-the grage of di,v, ine~sonship,, without integrit~y, without immottalit, y: ,Adam s,mn £change mankind for the wors~, ifi!,soul and.in :,, --But Adam's~ sin ,did not wreck his. human nature as. such.' We are no w6rse Off now than we ~oul'd have been if God had never elevated Adam to be His ~ad0pted son, with this exception: we ought to be biafn with sanctifying 220 July, 1946 ORIGINAL SIN AND EDUCATION grace, and we are not; find so we are born in a state dis-pleasing to.God, a state of sin. ~l~rue, if we ~compare ourselves with .A'dam as he actually was in Paradis'e, we are far .inferior,,. We are deprived'of the supernatural and.preternatural Preroga~tives¯ that. made him so extraordinarily perfe~t~a man. P~i0r fo baptism we lack the divine sonship he had; and so we come into the world as sinners. And even though.we-.recover tl~e . grace of divine sonshil3 in baptism, we lack the gift of integrity: and so we find in otirselves an unruly mass of conflicting .powers, the 10w~r at odds with the higheL th6 body unsubservient to the soul. We lack the gift of immor-tality,. and so we succumb to illness, wounds, gradual cor-ruption, and death. But if we regard only Adam's nature itself unperfected by any of these gifts, oar own natures ar'e just the same. Adam's-nature, left to itself, ,had the sameelements and equipment as otirs. If he had not had the gift of integrity-he. too w.ould, even without any sin, have experienced the same conflict among his faculties. His senses would have sought their own pro~er objects just as gtubbornly as ours do,-against the will's consent. 'His body .would have been exposed to illness, decant, and death. All this appears, quite reasonable. Our first pgrents, as ,they .actually were, with God's supernatur.al and preter- ' natural gifots added to" their natural make~up, were clearly superior to .tis. Bui if we disregard Whatever is preter-n~ atural arid supernatural, we headily seb th~at they .had the same nature as we their children have. : Only one thought, nagging at our memories of what We have heard and read, keeps thrusting forward an objdc-tion; we have been taught that, as a result.of original sin, ourintellects have been darkened and our wills have been weakened. This ii :the very statement in the elementary 221 (~YRIL VOLLERT Re~oiew for Religious catechis~ most 6f us have studied: "Our natur~ was cor-rupted by tl~e ~in of our fi~st parents, which darkened our understanding, weake.ned our will,.and left in us a strong inclination :to evil." ' ' This brings us to the heart of our discussion:, just what this statement means. It means that, without the gifts of original justice,'-particularly integrity and immortality, our minds are less able to acquir~e truth and our willsare less firm in pursuing good th.a.n if we had those, gifts. I~ does not mean that original sin has .intrinsically harmed our minds and wills so that their natural power to khow and ¯ will has b~en destroyed or i~apaired, ~ The doctrine taught by the familiar catechism of our childhood is of course true. But the trUth.admits of better wording; and the recent revision of this catechism puts the matter more clearly: "The chief punishments of Adam which we inherit through original sin are: death, .suffe)ing, ignorance, and a" strong inclination to sin." What~ever is taught by the ~.hurch about t.h~ darkening of the intellect and the weakenirig of. the~will can be under-stood, and actually is understood by .all great theologians;, in .the sense of a deterioration as compared .with the mind and will of man in the state of c;riginaljustice. .This is easily perceived, in .the °casfi of the will. God ~en~riche, d Adam;s nature, with the'gift of integrity, which lined up .all his powers and passions under, the control of his reason and will so that his animal appetites could not take the initiative in attracting ~him toward evil and could no~ prevail .against the command of'his will., In punish~ ment for his sin, Ad,am lost thisomarvelous gift for him-self and for all of us. We do not possess the gift of integ~ rity, and'so *there is lacking in us the perfect order among. our various powers ~and appetites which that~ gift would have proc~ured. In. other words, we are subject to unruly 222 dulq, 1946. ORIGINAL SIN AND EDUCATION c'oncupiscence, which means simply that each of our .appe-tites seeks its own good heedless of the good. of the whole person. When an attractive object confronts any of our senses, that sense can immediately reach out for the object quite independently of. the will's.consent, and even against the will's command. By that very fact our will is weakened. Concupiscence pulls us toward the tempting object even though we realize that taking it involves sin. We .may "already have reached out to seize it before the mind adverts to what we are doing: And even after the mind does take notice, the enticement still persists, the tug is still felt. We are much less able to resist the allurement than if the Senses were fully under our cohtrol. The will may say, "No!" Sense appetite says, "Yes!" And both will and sense appe- .,.rites. are mine. I am being torn between a higher and a lower good. I can resist, because :my will is still in charge. But often I give up; especially if, the battle is a long one. My will does not resist; I surrender, satisfy my lower craving at the expense of moral good, and so I sin. Adam in the state of original justice would have under-gone no such struggle. His will could simply have said, "No!" The sense appetite would, have straightway obeyed. Indeed, the sense appetite could not have been attracted to the object in the first place without the assent of the will. Therefore'my will is weaker than his; but only because.of the pull of concupiscence. My will, as a natural faculty just in itself, is in no way weakened by original sin. The same is the case with our intellect. Adam had a preternatural gift of infused knowledge. We have not. Therefore our understanding is dark as compared with his, for .his was bathed with divine light. If Adam had not ~inned, he would not have handed on his special, infused gift of knowledge to his descendants. For this knowledge 223 CYRIL VOLLERT Review [or Religious was a personal gift with-vc~ich God eciUipped the~fii~st-man, created.aS he Wasin adulthood in intimate communion with God and with a special office as teacher of the children.he was to beget. ~: ~ ._ ,. ~ - ~ :,~,.- ,~ Adam had, yev other endow, menfs~perfecdnghis intel-lect, Alohg with. the sanctifying grace that~ele~ated him to dupernatural heights went the infused'~virtues, theological and moral. Among these are faith and prudence,., which resided, in his intellect. These'he would h~ve~transmitted: But. he sinhed,~and,so could not. transmit sgnctifying grace and, all 'the:accompanying.gifts. We,~ born without.~sanc-tifying~, grace, begin life deprived of the infused virtues, .includidg " those ,.which would have.equipped ~our minds With a habitual~aptitude for higher truths, In this respect, too, our. minds are defective as com#ared with his before the Eall: . _ ~Bu~-here we must'consider another factor, which is :sel~ dora,well,brought out. In sinning, Adam~ lost, 'besi~h sanctifying grace>~ith its cortege of infused.'virtues, ,th~ preternatural~ gif~s~: of,integrity and immortality. with:~heqos£of, immortality~w_¢nt the loss of impassibility, 6r :immuflitw,.to~sfl.ffering, disease, and death~.,~:~His body was no longer.perfectl~ subject;to his sou.L: ~ ~ From' Adam.weinherit ~bgdies ~bereff of these~ gifts. .Not bnly are we sfibject to 'conCupiscence,~ b6t me-have .,bodies unprot&ted, from ~harm-bythe -g "~ "f t~s~ .:.o.~lm~"m -ortahty and impassibility.,. Ou~. souls are immorthl, ~but tEey ha.re not the' pow&~to i~part., i~mortality to bur bodies. ~us.left ,their nat6ral ~eakness; our bodies easily giveAn, to f~tig~e, .to a thousand different, diseases,',to, the decrepitude of advancing age, .and~:.to dissolution. All. this,,has weighty ~consequences for ~0ur ~no~ledg~ and our (apacity to learn. Obviously~ ,the,pull 0f-c6ncu~iscence,is a tremendous obstacle to the acquisition~of knowledge. Web.have a kin~ 224 ORIGINAL SIN AND EDUCATION ship for the concrete, the. sensible. Higher truths, especially the truths of theology, ,religion, and metaphysics, hav~ -little charm for most people. They waht to know and experience what is pleasant and easy. Whatever has a sur-face interest excites them. The clang of the fire-engine bell~ upsets the class; not only children in third grade but university students, and the professor himself, feel the urge fo rush to the window. Philosophy is hard put to it to rdsist the seduction of the radio. Mathematics runs a poor ~second to.movies. A game of ball in the nearby playground is. more fun than geography or arithmetic. Shakespeare. and Thackeray have less appeal than the funnies. Another important consideration, is the fatigue that goes with thinking. Continuity is essential to study. But the brain soon wearies and seeks distraction. Even under -the most favorable circumstances, sudh as absolute quidt. freedom from interruption, and robust health, mental con- ¯ centration is extremely hard work. We know how right Aristotle was When he remarked, "Learning is'accompanied by pain[" The experience of students is well formulat,ed in a wise man's saying that has passed into a p~overb.: "Knowledge maketh a bloody entrance." But ideal circumstances are rarely granted to us. Leisure for thinking is a luxury. The very necessity of caring for the bbdy's needs takes up the most valuable portion of our time and eneigies. The majority of mankind must spend half or more of each working day in sheer toil for bread~ What leisure is left is without the freshness of mind required for acti,~e thought. -Even when a person has leisure and opportunityfor learning, his bodily condition is often a deterrent to efficient °study. The eye too soon grows dim, and reading has to be rationed. Hayfeve-r, sinus infection, a cdld in the head, the hundrei:l ills that plague mankind, all. militate against the ¯- 225~ CYRIL VOLLERT ~ Revietu /or Religious attention, correlation, and penetration required for ¯ rained.thinking and for the mastery of but a single province of human kno,wledge. ~f~to such bodily distresses we add the emodonal~bias that s~ems froni concupiscence and ,impedes the disinter-ested pursuit of truth, if we take account of the environ-. mental restrictions that, as in Soviet Russia', block access to th~ sources of truth, and if with allthis we mix in the lying propaganda, rooted in selfishness or in bigotry,, that not only closes off truth but teaches error, we can go very far in explaining the darkening of our under~tandin.g that is a result of original sire , Truly, our ability to gain knowl-edge is grievo.usly inferior to that of Adam when, before he rejected God's grace, he was shielded from all these evils by his preternatural gifts of immunity to concupiscence, suf-f~ iing, and bodily dissolution. But our natural faculty of intellect was in no way intrinsically injured by original sin. Our intellect and our will are the same now, considered as purely natural perfec.-' tions, as they would have been if Adam had handed down to-us original justice instead, of original sin. Our intellec-trialand volitional inferiority results from our lack of the preternatural gifts that would have removed all obstacles to their perfect functioning. Such is the teaching of all front, rank theologians, a teaching based on their study of revelation. The punish-ment of original sin, St. Thomas notes, is restricted to the withholding of the supernatur;il goods gi:anted by God to. our first father-for transmission to his posterity.1 ~ Su;irez agrees with Aquinas: The common and true doctrine is that the powers of man or of his free will, rhgarded from the standpoint of the perfection they would ha~,e had in the state of pure nature, were not diminished in iCompendium Theologiae, 1 226 Julg, 1946 ORIGINAL SIN AND EDUCXTION fallen nature by original sin; they are inferior only when compare~' wxth the strength and integrity conferred on them by original jus-rice. -~ - St. Robert Bellarmine teaches the same doctrine: The corruption of nature resulted not from the lack of any natural gift, nor from the presence of any" evil quality, but from the . sole loss, owing to Ada~'s~sin, Bf the supernatural endowment.8 Thus the raw material of our educational endeavors is ~the boy or girl, the young, man or woman, with intelle'ct and will essentially unimpaired on the natural plaiae. Our aim in education should be to develop this goo,d natural equipment and to transfigure it with all the super-h~ itural ,goods Christ has given to the Church for t.he benefit of His brethren. Revelation, the Church, the sacraments, ~sanctifying grace,'the infused virtues and. actual graces and all that the Church_disp0ses of for building up the body of Christ must raise and0perfect the souli of men together with their" faculties, xspecially their powers of inteIlect and wiff. The proximate purpose of our educational work must be to train.the youth entrusted to us so to master thdmselves that, within ~he. supernatu0ral sphdre to which they have been re-elevated by Christ, they may pumue the Truth which is God, and embrace the Good, which is also God. The closest possible approxim:ition to the original in.tegrity must be the goal to which we lead our limping, students. This is no mean ambition for those whose life'long voca-tion lies in the classroom and on the campus. The same goal.is the one we religious propose to reach in our own self,education. But in addition to the bottom-less treasury of graces open to all Catholics, we enjoy,'in" our ascetical striv~ings, certain freedoms that can bring us much closer to the original freedom Adam had. Our privi-lege js brought home to us by the matchless,champion who ~DO gratia, prol. 4, c. 8, n. 5. 8De gratia primi hominis, . 5. 227 CYRIl., VOLLERT -upheld t~ae greatness of the religiot~s state against pertly attackers of his day~ ¯ The exercise of perfection requires that a person 'd6 away witl~ whate~'er can impede him from directing his affections wholly to God; ¯ for in~this consists the perfection of charity. There are'three obstacles of this sort. T14e first is the desire for external good£ This' is removed by the vow of poverty. The"second is the proclivity for pleasures of sense, among which lustful delight isthe keenest., This is surmounted by the vow ol~ chastity, The third obstacle is the deordination of th~ human will. And this.is corrected by,the,vow of " obedience.4 Thus with intellect and will intrinsically good and unspoiled in their natural soundness by original sin, we C~n with Ggd's grace'overc0me all hindrances and eventually make ou~r .own, in limited degree, the perfection of tl~e sec-. ond Ad:;m, J~sus Christ. We cannot, indeed, ever in this" life attain to the integrity of original justice; Christ did0not ~ restore that extraordinary privilege to redeemed man: ~ BuS as brothers and sisters of the God-man, or truer still, as living members of His body, we can get closer to the second ~dam, and therefore closer to God, 'than the first Adam was ~ in his primeval innocence. And so our last state can .be better ~han the first. ~ '~St.'Thomas, 8umraa, II-Ilae, q. 186, a. 7. A TIMELY PAMPHLET~ ':The Guide Posts of the Almighty to Perma~ient Industrial,Peace" presents a "plea for .the Ten Commandments as the only solid basis for lasting peace, industrial and international. The section which describes the rights and dutie~ of 'labor and management is particularly"excellent. Every emp!oyer and every laborer might well read this with profit. The pamphlet is from the pen of the Most Rev. Richard J. Cushin.g, D.D., Archbishop og Boston, and is published by the Radio Re151ies Press, St. Paul, ,Minnesota. Price: I0 cents. ~ 228 Concerning Dis :ra t:ions Charles F~ Donovan, S.d. THERE is an aspiration which I should like torecom-mend; yet I fear it might be misunderstood. It is: "Jesus, be my distraction." Now distractions are bad, they are sappers of spiritual energy, things to be avoided. And obviouslq we' do not intend to couple the name of Jesus with anything evil. But. there are certain characteristics of distractions which would be worthwhile if transferred to the thought of Our Lord, namely, their persistence, their fascination,.and their seeming ubiquity. It is these qual{- ties ofdistractions I have in mind when I say, '"3esus, be my distraction," which is a brief way of saying, ",lesus, be the magnet of my mind, the channel of my thoughts, the theme of my day from task ~o'task; when dut.y of any sort commands the center of the stage, lurk in the wings of my heart, and the moment I pause, the moment I am free ~et the spotlight of my soul rest on You alone." Every day at Ma~s the priest exhorts us, "'Sursttm corda'" (Lift up your hearts). And we respond,"Habemus ad Dorninurn'" (We have them lifted up to the. Lord). This lifting we reaflifm daily is not our passive elevation by God to the state of grace. When we receive grace,~Christ stoops and does the lifting. Yet even with grace we may remair~ earth-bound and inert. The lifting w~e profess when we say. "'Sursurn corda'" is an active elevation, our cooperation with Christ, an ~ffort to use His grace to meet Him on His own level. As Dora Augustine Baker puts it in the 'vigorous English of Shakespeare's time, we mean the "forced but very facile elevations of the will, that bluntly or blindly heaves itself up towards God." We-heave ourselves in spirit 229 CHARLES F. DONOVAN Review for Religious towards God in hope and love and joy. A distraction-, therefore, is truly a fail--not necessariI~ a fall in the sense of sin, btit a descent from the heights of communion with Christ. If we are habitually distracted we really should answer the priest, "'Habemus ad humum'" (Our hearts are fixed on the earth, on dust, on our own level). There is a fervor, a preoccupation with God which in the face of a present and pressing tluty, like signing checks or making out report cards, could be called a distraction. Some of the saints have been "bothered" by such distrac-tions. Saint Ignatius, 'for instance, sometimes had to be dispensed' from reading the Office because during it he would experience ecstasy and thus be kept from other daily business. Saint Teresa was often afraid to think of God, lest she experience some divine visitation that wquld interfere ~vith her work or embarrass her in public. BUt most of us need have no worry about such piotis distrac-tions. It is not often the thought 6t? God-that makes us' shabby workers. Our trouble is generally not that prayer keeps us from mundane things but that mundane things keep us from prayer. Our mind-wandering tends to be from God to creatures, the kind of distraction to wh{cb that religious referred who complained, with healthy self-criticism, that his new superior conducted-such prolonged ~zisits at chapel after meals that he ran out of distractions and had to' pi~ay. Now if we really have .our hearts lifted ad Dominum, if our habitual tendency and spontaneous impulse is to think of Jesus, then distraction in prayer becomes not impossible, but at least unpleasant and of slight Spiritual d~nger, like a ¯ fly buzzing around our prie-dieu. There are also distractions whicb occur all day !ong even in non-prayer time, but which don't actually keep us from our work. These are, therefore, rather potential thah 230 July, 1946 CONCERNING DIS, TRACTIONSj real distractions. Theyare our worries, our enthusiasms, our pet interests, the things which are just outside the. focus of our attention or just below the surface of consciousness, to whichthe mind tends to revert over and over dttring the day. If these concerns, these potential distractions,-are intense, the person who has them is said to be preoccupied or to "have something on the mind." Wouldn't it be won-derful if we were so intimate with Our Lord that we could be said to have Jesus on our mind? Of course, that is the ambition of all religious, to be so in love with Our Lord that He is our dominfint interest, our hobby, the object of . our ardent enthusiasm, our companion day and l~ight. Finally, there are the distractions which we seek, favor-ire" topics to which we let: our mind lazily turn in moments of relaxation, familiar themes which we find congenial and. particularly helpful when we are trying to get to sleep. The subjects that we choose for such distractions are indicative of our spiritual health. _The old saying, "Tell me~ whom you, go with and I'll tell you what you are," is applicable to mental as well as to persgnal companions. If wespon-taneously- turn to worldly thoughts, then we a.r.e very probabl); worldly ourselves. If our favorite reveries are spiritual, our character is most likely spiritual. Habitual 'and sought distractions, the recurrent musings of our idle moments, can be of tremendous influehce in our - spiritual lives. They not only indicate character; they also form character and spiritual taste. Wl~at we think ofand enjoy thinking of~when we are free, when the rule is not directing us, and the choice of mental occupation is up to ourselves, both manifests and shapes the inner self., These chosen reveries can be the occasion when temptation is most .likely to assail us. They can be little secret escapes from the cloister and from the spirit of religious life. Therefore it is of first importance that we cultivate lofty and holy 231 CH'ARLES F. DONOVAN mental companionships so that our idle moments will be in keeping with the tone of our religi0,us profession and will strengthen rather than dissipate our religious spirit. As ~ Kempis says (Bk.iii, ch.58)~ "That cometh in'to my mind which by custom pleaseth me best to think upon: and where my thought is accustomed to be, there is that which'~I love." What nobler~ theme, what~holief com-panion gould we have for our unpres~ribed and effortless meditations than Our Lord Jesus Christ? Wouldn:t we be in a blissful state of spiritual perfection if~. during the day's work we looked forward eagerly to those moments of rest, especially the moments ~ before sleep, when-we would be able to think easily and lovingly of. ,lesus, and say with the poetess, "I run, I run, I am gathered to thy heart?" In Case You Donq: Know It-- The Catechetical Guild Educational Society publishes a first-class magazine entitled Catholic Youth. $1.50 per year, for ten issues: 15" cents pet"copy; quantity rates to ~chools and churches on r~quest. Write to: CatholicLYouth, 128 E. Tenth Street, Saint Paul. I" Min-nesota. Another Catechetical Guild project is Post-Reporter, Catholic Youth's own newspaper. It is published every second Monday during the school year. $1.00 for full school year; 5 cents for single copies: bulk rates on application. ¯ Address, as above. The Dominicari Fathers~'of the Province of St. Albert tile Great publish The Young Dominican for the benefit of young men~ho aspire, to become Dominican students. The paper is attractive and informative. Copies are sent.on request. Address requests to Brother Bede's Mail Box, Dominican House of Studies, River Forest, Illinois. The Missignar~r 'Sisters of Mother of God recently began publi-cation of The.Ark, "a. monthly periodica, l devdted to ecclesiastical and' cultural affairs, p~rticulaidy Of Eastern Rites." "Subscription: $2.00 per year; 25 cents per copy. 232 Sain : Appeared Clement J. McNaspy, S.J, AM WRITING this just after giving Holy Commumon in.one.0f the.'most favored and sacred spots in our coun-try. It is the nearby convent infirmary. .The com-municant was a lay sister of the Religious of the Sacre'~d Heart. I don't know her name. The convent is .really c~alled the College of the Sacred Heart; it is located in Grind Coteau, Louisiana. If you have never heard of Grand Coteau, let me assure you.that it is one ~f the least worldly villages anywhere. T.here is no motion picture in town. There is not even a chamber of commerce. A stranger would probably~call it a "sleepy" town. Yet few towns in the United States have known such spiritual activity. For one. thing, Grand Coteau boasts a retreat house where the spiritual, exercises are made almost weekly by sizable groups of laymen. There is too a desuit-novitiate within the city limith; and no ridigious need be tol~l that a novitiate can hardly be called a "sleepy" place, especially at recreation time. But Grand ,Cot ea 'u s c.laim to. veneratioo goes far .beyond this. o As you ~drive'along Louisiana. Highway No; 5 toward the. outskirts of the village of Sunset, you are sta~rtled by a garish-(fortunately, somewhat fadi'ng) 'placard: National Shrine, Saint A15peared Twice." ~An'd the sign points to Grand Coteau.,Jhidden beneath pines and oaks and moss, one mile north of the highway. -l~his gives away Grand Coteau's secret. One of the very few first-class miracles performed in the United Sta~es and officially accei0ted by the Church took place th.ere, in ¯ that very infirmary where I w.as just privileged to gi~re 233 CLEMENT J. MCNASPY Review for Religious Holy Communion. No, the miracle didn't happen yester-day. Yet o'nly a few weeks a~o we buried ninety-six year old "Tante Yomme," who when in school at'the convent had been a witness of the miracle, the last surviving wit-ness. Besides, private archives have a way of annihilatink even decades of years; and the kindness of Reverend Mother Superior of th~ College of the Sacred Heart has put into my hands these treasured documents, original affidavits and first hand descriptions. It is engaging to read among them Sister Mary Wil-son's personal account: how she was cured of~a disease diagnosed as incurable. There glo.w warmth and imme-diacy in the young novice'-s story. She hurries along, ingenuously, simply, impatient of conventional syntax and punctuation, not even careful to sound completely consist-ent. Here are her own words, as copied from the document heretofore unpub!ished.1 Tie very next day (December 10, 1866) I was worse than I had ever been before up to that time, all hope of getting better abandoned me; I felt getting weaker and my sufferings were so intolerable that it seemed to me that it was impossible to bear them long--Given up by the Doctor I disposed myself to receive the.Holy Viaticum this was oix the 10th of December and on the llth the Father gave me the - last Plenary Ifidulgence. One of our dear Mothers brought me a picture of Blessed Berch-marts on~the 6th and said that the community was going to make another Novena to Blessed BerchmansI looked at Mother and in my incredulity asked her, if there was any other saint left that they had not already importuned; for my dear Mothers and Sisters had already made so many novenas that I thought neither God nor the Saints were willing to confer any favor upon me ". I do not think I had eaten an, ounce of food for about forty days, during that time I had taken nothing but a little Coffee or ,tea which" for a week before I recovered, I could no longer take; and for two weeks no medicines had been administered--the Doctor said 1To facilitate reading, dashes have been inserted in the text. 1946 "SAINT APPEARED TW~rCE'' it was useless 'to torture me more so he stopped giving me any; the last two days I was unable to swallow even a drop of water . ¯ Owing to the condition of my mouth and fongue it was greatly feared I would not be able to swallow the Sacred Host--the Father therefore gave me but a sm~ill particle~it was with great difficulty that I could receive even this; the Father perceiving it remained b~; my bed,side with ciborium in hand until he had the perfect assurance that I had swallowed it,~this however could only be affected by means of a teaspoonful of water, and attended by. intense palm Being Unable to speak I said in my heart: "Lord, Thou who seest how much I suffer if it .be for your honor and glory, and the salvation of my soul I ask through the intercession of Blessed Berch-mans a little relief and health, otherwise give me patience to suffer to the end, I am resigned"--then placing the. image of Blessed Berch-mans on my mouth, I said: "if it be true that you can work miracles, I wish you would do something for r~e,--if not I will not believe in you. ~I can say without s~cruple or fear of offen'ding God, I heard a voice whisper: '~Open your mouth." I do so as well as I felt some one put as it were their finger on my tongue and immed~ ately I was re|ieved. "I then heard a voice say in a distinct and loud tone: "Sister, you will get the desired habit, be faithful, have confi-dence, fear not!" I had not yet opened my eyes, I did not know who was by my bedside I turned around and said aloud: "but Mother Moran I am well"--then standing by my bedside I saw a figure he held in his hand a cup, and there was some lights burning near him--at this beautiful sight I was afraid--I closed my eyes and asked: "is it Blessed Berchmans", He answered: "Yes, I come by the order of God, your sufferings are over, fear not !" I opened my eyes but he was gone. The Sister infirmarian had gone down to the chapel to receive Holy Communion. I sat up in the bed I felt no pain. I was afraid it was an illusion and that my cure was not real--I turned over and over in the bed but without pain--I then exclaimed: "It is true, Blessed Berchmans has cured me." , The Sister infirmarian soon returned from the Chapel and made her'act of thanksgiving before a little altar in the, infirmary. I did not speak to her: in about three quarters of an hour Mother Superior came in to see me, fearing at the same time to find me in the agonies of death,--but what was not her great surprise when she met my eyes which had not been opened for six days and heard me wish 235 CLEMEN'T J. MCNASPY Review ?or Religious her good morning. Mother in utter amazement drew back and exclaimed: "and what, those eyes!" then s~eing my mouth perfectly healed.she added: "that mouth!" On and on, page after page, Sister Mary Wilson details her dreadful illness, how the doctors had given .up ,hope, and the aftermath of her cure. Equally impressive, also in these archives, are the sworn accounts of D~octors James G. Campbell and Edward Millard, both.of whom certify, in stolid.professional language, to the miraculo~us cure. Dr. Millard concludes in these words: N(~t being able to discoveb any marks of convalescence, but an immediate r'eturr~ to health from a most sever~ and painful illness, I am unable to explain the transition by any ordinary natural laws. I hereby declare under the sanctity of.my oath that the above state-ment, according to the~best of my knowledge and belief is entirely true. (Sig1~ed) Ed. M. Millard. M.D., Grand Coteau, La., Feb. 4th, 1867. Sister Wilson's close friend, Mother Moran, has for-tunately also left ah eyewitness account. Her sisterly sympathy for the young postulant so .eager to receive the habit is felt as we read along: ' Wednesday evening, Miss Wilson asked me if it was night; for her eyes being continually closed, she could not distinguish' between night and day.On hearing my answer, she rejoined: "I never more expect to see the l.ight of day. I cannot pbssibly endure such suffering much longer." - She then with perfect composure gave me several commissions, requesting me t~ attend to their execution after her death; she expressed her lfiappiness in dying at the Sacred Heart (Convent), and entrusted me with the expressing of her thanks for all her Mothers and Sisters from whom, she said, she had received so many p~oofs of affection and tender charity. Her weakness was so great, that-her voice was scarcely audible, and she spoke with such difficulty that it required over an hour to articulate these few" words. Next morning I was surprised to fintl her still living: this day, Thursday,. certainly surpassed all that had preceded, in the intensity-of pain; her half opened mouth displaying a tongue swollen, inflamed and raw, gums and teeth all 'clotted with black corrupted 'blood, 236 "SAINT APPEARED TWICE" excited an involuntary sensation of horror followed by a deeper ,senti-ment of the most. tender compassion in every one. who saw her in this condition. Mother Moran goes on to tell how exulta~ntly Sister Wilson leaped from what was thought her deathbed, and she reports the physician's reaction when he ~ame to visit his dying patient: Not being able to assign any natural ~ause capable of producing such an effect, .he several times repeated: '~Really, Miss Mary, I can-not understand it! But one thing is certain, if you recover, it is cer-tainly' not to medicine or to my care that you are to attribute your cure." - Among other interesting documents from the convent archives are the-sworn testimonies of Fathers Nachon, Benausse, and Serra, all from th~ nearby. Jesuit college, who had assisted the postulan.t with the last sacraments. Each of these Fathers writes in his own hand, in a personal way, with distinct individual touches. As you read along you wonder if they thofight it odd of Blessed John Berchmans to by-pass his own brethren's house to appear in a neigh-bo~ ing community. If they felt sensitive on this point they surely show no-indication of it: in fact, they seem almost proud that the Blessed had chosen one of their spir-itual charges to work perhaps his greatest miracle. More arresting, probalSly because less technical and formal, is a letter from Father Na~hon to a. Miss M~ry Perry, who would seem to be a non-Catholic. Writing enthusiastically just four dfiys filter the miracle, the~Father tells ~f tlqe fl~ry ~tirred up fill around Grarld Coteau~ ~The moral that he draws is~ possibly .l~ss significant in ourbwn. claywhen Loubdes and Fatima are so widely talked about. He writes: You see, child, that the time of miracles is not entirely passed away. There is nothing astonishing for us Catholics, since we know that~the saints are powerf.ul with God and that nothing is impos- 237 CLEMENT J. MCNASPY sible to God. We may rejoice it has happened amongst us because it excites us to devotion, and contributes to. animate our faith. No wonder that the Archbishop of New Orleans immediately started canonical proceedings to investigate the miracle.' Rome moves proverbially slowly, l~ut after tire-less probing and cross-examination the Church was at length satisfied and set its seal of approval on 'the mirac~- lous healing. It was officially accepted for the canonization of the young Blessed; who henceforth is' thought of as peculiarly belonging to Grand Coteau. For generations now the citizens of the little village have simply taken their privilege for granted. They are not at ali surprised that Heaven should have chosen Grand Coteau to break through to earth. And visitors usually make just that comment. For there are visitors to Grand Coteau, even though no one pushes publicity. Thereare the devoted alumnae who return to dear "Coteau" to see favorit~e old teachers or justthe hallowed, tastily land-scaped grounds. Students of the modern college, and academy attract relatives'and friends. And often enough devotees of azaleas, live-oaks, or Acadian lore are drawn to Grand Coteau. All these, quite naturally, spend some time in prayer in the infirmary. Periodically a .group of" retreatants from the retreat house will also come, and once a year the Jesuit novices and scholastics pay a pilgrimage of homage to their young con-frere. "The small room where the apparition took place has been cony6rted iiato a tiny chapel dedicated to St. John Berchmans. Onl~ two quiet mu~al~ and a notice placed where.the Saint stood remind one that this is one of Ameri-ca's treasUred shrines. "° " ,238 , A Pla°n of.Sei -denial Wi!:hin :he Reach of All Robert B. Eiten, S.J~ ~N ~CATHOLIC LIFE the principle of self-denial holds ~an important place. Yet it is a fact known to all that in i?his~ matter of self-denial there is danger of going to extremes--of failing either by defect or by excess. Those :who are too ,easy on themselves practically exclude the likelihood or even the possibility Of their reaching high perfection.; they go against the injunctions of Our Lo~d and the Chur.ch, and they oppose the common teaching .of ascetic writers. On the other hand, those who overstep their powers and go to the other extreme run the risk of broken health, shattered nerves, and even the loss of vocation. These latte} try to follow a special path without a special c,all; with only ordinary g.races at their dispoiaI they try to follow a way of life that is possible only with .e~xtraordinary grace. There havd tJeen, and there are, souls who have a special vocation to continuous heroic mortifica-tion and even vOluntarily-sought sufferings. These souls need" particular guidance; what we say here is not for them. But concerning those souls--whether priests, religious, or lay peoplemwho Seek high perfection with the aid, at least normally, of only ordinary graces, one might ask.: What~measure "of self~denial and mortification is to be expected of~ them? The answer to this question is~ con-tained in the following program. 1. To begin with, a large number of acts qf-self, abnega,ti0n and mortification can be practiced by ca?~fullg observing the Commandments, thelaws of the Church, and 239 ROBERT B. EITEN for Religious the duties of our state of life includiag the rules and customs of_our religious institute; and by patientl~l bearing those sufferings which a life of carff, ul and reasonable fidelity to grace imposes on us. This does not mean that one will never slip here and there;, for to observe peffectt~l over a long period of time the rules of at least some religious insti-tutes requires special graces over and above the ordinar!l or~es.~, It is well for religious to remember that this is no small program; for a careful observance of the rules makes. great demands in the matter.of self-effacement and morti-fication. St. 3ohn Berchmans declared that the common life was his greatest mortification. 2. Many sufferings, hardships, sorrows, and denials come to us in the ordinary pro.vidence of God. Some~times Divine Providence makes great demands. This was the case during Wokld War II when many, besides sufferingth~ loss of dear ones, had to er~dure such things as destruction of property, poor wages, nearly impossible rationing limi-tations, and so on. It is clearly the will of God that we bear such sufferings at least without complaint, and patiently. Sufferings of this kind may come to us from queer, sorts of cau.ses, cond.itions,, a~nd occasions. They~ .m~,ay come from superiqrs.,I from e~quals,, o.r frominferio, rs; from.t,he i~justice and frqm the justic~e of. others; from ,the sins, o.r.even from the generous but tastl~ss cha~rit, y of°others; or from inani-mate. creation, as~ ~n, othe cas~ "of bad Weather, t~ornadoes, floods, and so fbrth. 3: The, well-estab!ish.e~l and reasonable c.onventions, of polite society which make for proper refinement;~etiquette, ci~lture, neatness, and general social decency, algo provide 1Obviously the fact that we might be assisted only by ordinary graces should never be a pretext for carelessness in observing our rules. Thus we must seriously apply ourselves to their observance as far as we can and ask.God for the h~elp needed tO observe them perfectly. 240 _ '." ~JuJv, 194~5 ~ ~ ~ A PLAi~I OF.SELF-DENIAL~ ~ ~_ ~mucb material for self-abnegation and restraint. We, ought -~to respect these conventions" i'n a spirit of love" of the neigh-bor for the love :of,God since-these things make'life more ~ livable. Theie is r;o reason why their observance cannot-be ~upernaturali~ed. Included here are, such-things as table _ .manners, which should be exquisitely delicate but Without _.affectation; deanlinehs and neatness about our person,. office,- and room; .proper restraint in both the quality and.~ oquant~tg of' food; proper deference shown towards certain /persons.by reason of their age, sex, and rank;~ politeness and the avoidance of all vulg~arity; and, in general,, restraint in our conversation. "- Here it is well to include the mortification involved correcting deflects of disposition" and character. These -('&fects make Us deficient and negligent in the performance . our,duties and their are annoying to others. Slipshod .work, absent-mindedness, failure to return things, frequent boast" fulness, sarcastic language, a ~failure to keep appointments, "all are examples of the defects here referred to. In brief, we should always be and act the perfect, cultured Christian~ gentleman. We may well keep in mind St. Anthony'.s saying_that a saint would be-at home in any society. Such. deportment too (to dwell on another point casually) would be an effective means of fostering and getting voca, tions, oY°Ung people would be fascinated by what they. see -in us and would want to share with us that life which seems _to bring with oit, as it should, such refinement, culture, and fine iense .of propriety. ~ 4. Besides the foregoing instances of the cross which, ° wd~might say, are imposed upon us, there still remain mor~ ~tificati0ns and sufferings which we freely impose on our-~ Selves. ~ In other words they are entirety-voluntary, ~vith-" ' out° any obligation of i~recept or necessity~ All founders ROBERT B. EITEN ~-°-~ " ' Reti~ew for Religious; -of tel.i~i6us orders and all great spiritual~ writers, agree that voluntary penances are in some way an essential element of serious" tending towgrds perfection. Besides-the exercise humility and the cross, these v~oluntar~r penances prsvide,.~ for the.exercise of other virtues. o True, these voluntary mortifications must be practiced° prudently .and under the directi6n of the superior or of a goqd spiritua~l director. Norm.ally we should not, orat least need not; wait for them to propose what v61untary mortifications are to be practiced. Usually such things as ¯-spiritual attractions, reading, the insi)irations of gra~e, and~ so forth will suggest to us what might be done. After thiriking over the matter seriously, we propose, to .our. superiors or spiritual directors what vol~untary mortifica~ tions we .would like to practice. We then follow out their directions. This obedience will protect us against excesses ",in ~ith~r direction. Of course.no one needs permission to practice any of the mortifications mentioned or suggested under No. 3~ above.~ In spite of all the safeguards provided,by consulting,, and following the advice of superiors and spiritual diiectors in this matter, there remain sd,me obscurity and uncertainty - as to what and bow much voluntary mortifica.tion should ¯ be undertakenl An excellent practice might be, perhaps~. to,ask God to. send us in His providence those physical and , mental sufferings which are proper to help us reach.tl'iat~ d~gree o~ perfection to which He has called us. Such a request, if it is sincere, includes the firm resolve to conform ~ourselv~s to His will in all sufferings and hardships__w~hich He-may fiend us. ' 5. Fi~nally, it is not too much to expect fervent souls to, have at least the desire to .desire affronts, humiliationk re~'roaches, misunderstandings, and so forth. A better, dis- positidn:wouldbe to d~slre, tolong for, and to love thes~;~: ver~ things just to be like Qbrist and to help Him mo~e~" ~ffectively in the great workof the redemption. : However . ~ofi"hcco~nt of human misery and frailt~ a soul might.not these ~eneroOs dispositions. If' one has, howeqer, the'desire_to desire these things, he is by that very .disp0si-tion ~rep.aring himself for an actual desir~ and love of. :~ffronts, humiii~tions, and.so on. 7 " Here we might add that souls ought to try to mairftain a ~pi~i~ of cheerfulness in all circumstances of life; whether -'these be e'asy to bear Or very tr~ring. S. uch a spirivadds much, me~it ~and abnegation to mortifications alrea'dy practi, ced. 'A~nd how such a c6nstaht cheerfulness impresses others f, or. the better! To be cheerful at all times're~u~ires gr.eat abne-gation- anal perhaps at times a special grace.Well mi.ght We, ask,God to give us this .grace. ,,:o ~ The t~oreg~ing program of self-denied seems to be pos-sible for all. No one-will ~oncede that- it is an easy one; ~and, yet no' one can Say that it is impossible. It is sweetly: r_easonablg, not violent; yet it will make us like Christ ~Crfi~ified and will make us active collaborators with Him in the g.reat work of the redemption. '~?' P~erh£ps someone, may ask why nothing has been said~ ,.~bout gictim souls, that is, souls who offer themselves and their whole lives with all the sufferings, ti:ials, humilia-tions, mortifications, and so forth contained:therein to Gbd ::.~":jus~ as Christ did upon His entrance into the~ world °-(.~f: Hebrews 10: 5-10.) By. way of reply we may say that: souls who feel themselves supernaturally" urged to ~:his kind of offering, may follow si~ch an urge. Obviously tl~e motive for so doin~ may vary. ,It might, for example be to offer self for the' same intentions that .Christ had; or tb fill':up in one own s flesh~ what is wanting in C.hnstos ¯ o - . 243 ~ROBERT B,~ EI~TEN = ,~, ~ pfission~ fOr"~the Church.-- f.~Colos~sians 1 : 24~ 5 : Thi~--- ~victim-life, th~s.3pds(Slgte-of the cross and suffe)~ag; i~ ¯ grand:vocation., It does not, however, n~cessarilg in~olve~. any more moriifica~ions tha~ tBose~ we have ~mentioned,butT only gives special force to the ~o~i)e f6~ beating them:. _ If however there is question of a victim-sohl in the limited sensd that is, of one who_ ~sks for exceptional ~uffe)i.ng, what should be done? .No~ally,~one should~ not ~.permitt~d to makesuch'a request for-sufferi~g,~asq~ -may show a lack of humility and can emily lead to illu- ~s~ons( But if it is clear that an-individaal-has a special vocation for this type of life, then such a one should fi~stbe thoroughly,t~sted. After suNcient p~oof of the call to such a l'ife of ~uffering, the soul may offer itself to God in this very cult vocation. ~ ' "' " Let us hope that the abov~ Pr9grhm wiil clarify -'t}rs,fo~ us and that we.may "by the mercy of God"~present :our '"~odies a living sacrifice, holy, pleasing unto"God; ~0fir] re~sonable service" (Romans 12;, 1).= . ~I am 'much indebted to De Smedt (NOtre vie surnaturelle, volume 2, "pp.~472 252) not only for much of the ~aterial- found here but also in some wag fdi~the i~spiiation to write this article. ~ -~ .APP[AL5 FOR VOCATIONS ~ .~ ~he following vocation folders and pamphlets rely chiefly on excelle~t and well cffosen photographs to make their appeal: Modern Samaritans, from the NoVitiate "df~ the Alexian Brothers. Clayto~. Missouri: How about gou? (an appeal t~pros~ pective ~riest candidates) and Co~e In (an appeal for fay. Brothers), b6th from "~th~ Dominican House of Studies. River Forest, Illinois:'A Life to Give, from th~ Sisters of St. Casimir, 26.01 W. Marquette Road, Chicagq 29, Illinois: Dominican Sisters: St. Marg o~ the Springs, from the Novitiate.-St. Mary 6f tile Springs, Columbus 3. Ohio;Whg a Hospital Sister? by Rev. Dr. L. Rumble. M.S.C., fiom Radio Reply Press, St. Paul, Minnesota. * Our Ladg's Fz, ends, by Rev. Ju~ Senieur, O.F.M.Cap., describes the work t~e R~gina ~leri Society for the spiritual and financial suppprt of priestly and reli-'~ gious vocations. It. is .published by the Catholic Uni4ersity Cofiference of-Clerics and Religmus. C.S.M.G,, Cathohc Umverslty, Washmgtqn 17, D. C.~ . :~ '-- " 244 - "~,HE visitor,~a gray-hai~ed alumnlus of th~ college~, ~was [~, movifi~ about the° crowded recreation room o[ the faculty" friars, greetirig old acquaintances and ~aking new ones. He approached a card table where, over unfin-ish~ ed pinochle, three.~ unfamiliar friars stood awaiting him. "Tom Casey, class of '13," he ~smiled brgadly, hand extended. "Onesimus," .smiled back the first. "Eleuthe[ rius," smiled back the second. "Symphorianus, smiled the third. And albeit no stranger to Franciscan-phenomena. Tom Casey, class of '13, blinked hard and made a que4~r frog-like noise in°theback of his throat. "Where do you peo131e[get those names?'" he dazedly wondered. Here were names not found.~ven in his prayey-book Litany of the~Saints-though .surely there are enough odd ones in that long list! NOr had he ever, iffal[his long years and his wide travels, encountered those names among the living. If~the~y reminded him~of anything~subsolar at all, it:wa~ of Pullman sleeping cars---or of the Latin play in hi~:.4ophbfiiore year:~or of just" plain "printer's pie:' '~ What a downright shame, his meditation concluded, that nbr~ m~il"youhg men, oprobably christened :John, Wflham, Pat-rick; should now have to confront mankind as Oneslmus, "Eleutherlus, Symphorianus! -~ ~" Undoubtedly,~the religious n~mes of many of~us~d6 ~starfli~ the si~cular eai. They may at first hav~ ~tarfiede v~e ~n our ~own. Wi~: i~robably had "h.oped for something, con[ ventio~al; but the superior, with the finality"~of Z~icl-Jar~, siinply ~declared, "This is hi~ (or her)" r/am'e," and uttered bizarre syllables. A'ndothat was'that. Or, if permitted to CLAUDE KEAN Review for Religious choose our names, we probably found the community's nomenclature as depleted as Kresge counters at closing time on Christmas Eve; and what we got was what all earlier customers hadjudiciously foregone. So the names that many ,of us bear are admittedly unusual. Are they, therefore, absurd? Or may it not be that, compared with the proper names of many layfolk (names which were selected from unrestricted possibilities), our abnormal names are actually quite normal? or oub apparently mean-ingless names are at least relatively, fraught with remark-ab, le significance? From stray evidence now and then I have long sus-pected that the answer lies in our favor. From a half-hour of recent research, I now know for certain that it does. The "research" consisted in a mere scanning of proper names in the.telephone book of a representative eastern clty of the United States. Under the A alone, I found a hundred proper names, male and female, much morfi extravagant than any ever imparted to friar or monk or Sister¯ or Brother. ' To be specific, who. of us, even though destine~dot9 teach geography, is named Maryland, .or Virginia,; 6r,Columbia, or Dallas; or St,aten, or~ Reno? O~who of u~, e,ve ~n~th0.u.gh a ngt,ed nature-lover,. ~ . .bears the. name of Fern,~.~,or,Ivy, or Myrtle, or Reed, or. Violet, or, Daisy,~ or Pansy?., ~ Or ,who of .us, e.ven,thgugh avowedly interested in the classic, long,ago," wears toga-like the name of Homer, or Ca.to, or ~.~Virgil, or Caesar, or th~ myrtle-laden name of Phoebe, or Penelope, or Vesta? Or what choleric character among us is openly known as'Hasty?--what phlegmatic as Tranqu.ilisim~?-- what cynical as Burr?mwhat loquacious as Verba or Vow, els? Yet, as the telephone book plainly attests, laymen who possess these given names do walk and breathe, 246 SPEAKING OF NAMES A few names that occur-under theosame letter A savor of surrealism: Bushrod,.Hedgecomb, Hunk, Whip. Others would seem to suggest endearment: A1icebelle, Birdie, Bowie, Dernie, Goldie, Hommey,-Libby," Shorey, Sibbie, Trudie, Wadie. A sizeable percentage looks yearningly,- though uncertainly, towards the glory that,was Rome and the grandeur that was Greece: Aetha, Al"eathea, Cleora, C1evius, Euna, Iola, Lathena, Lesbia, Nova, Orpha, Thea. Several others walk in veiled oriental mystery: Arsinoe, Bayan, Desma, Zelma, Zetta. There is something of a faded Elizabethan charm in Clift, Bourne, Dell, Teare; and something suggestive Of remote constellations yet undiscovered in Arie, Angrous, Elsir, Louv~enia, Norment, Ord, Sigrid. The rest, howeyer symbolic, are not ~iuite clear in their allusions, and must be listed as mere vocables: Alonda, Armeita, Awillda, Beekman, Belva; Buxton," Demleta, Ena, Grice, Kermit, Lola, Lona, Lora, Ponten-ciano, Reta, Rulloda, Velma, Wilda, Worth. Now, it is no concern of mine--apart from the admin-istration of baptismmwhat names people bestow upon 'their offspring. In the exercise' of American freedom of expression, they may even, if they so wish, prefer numbers to names. (Ripley discovered not long ago anAmerican youth with the proper name of "Eleven."). Nor-do I in the least imply that odd names denote odd characters, that "that which we do call a rose by any other word would" not "smell as sweet." My sole contention is that, as mere~ alphabetization, the secular nomenclature equals in singu-larity, and .frequently even excels, the religious. And ~he Bell Telephgn¢ Company is. my star witness. But names are more than vocables: they are symbols. And the modern secular trend in names indicates the com-plete secularization of modern thought. Gone now are 247 CUAUDE KEAN Review/:or .Religious the.days~when~ the-names of~_men-=:as well as of the,ships they° sailed,and the ,new lands they discovered--were drawn from the rich vocabulary ~of Catholk,Faith. Gone,~ too, for the most part, are the days when devout Protestants turned to their Bibes in search of worthy nami~s for their newborn. In an age turned materialistic, men are more and mor'e taking ~their names not from God's great, but~from the:world;s great: from poets and philosophers of, a~cient Rome and Greece;. from~literati~urs of later eras (my tele: phone~ list includes Milton, Addison, Scott, Emerson, Haw-thorne~) ; from .modern scientists, like Burbaiak and Edison, and modern statesmen, like Roose~celt and Churchill. ° In even'.m6re articulate expressionof, th~ materlahstlc spirit if has now b~6m~ th~a~epted prhctice tona~e pkr-s6ns fiot¢.Mte~ other persons~ but affei things hft~r flbra . and:fauna,~ and geograpb~cal~it~s; and '~vefi mechanical objects.~ -This~ ph~ndmenbfi wOuld, to~do:i~'.ju~tlce~ ~req~i~ a Chesterton's~afysis: :.~ut,ev~n'on tge gu~face~ ~4t, to c~!l,~a.gifl ~'Petunia;,)'.;~or a;boy "Ohio", or '~Derrick":. '(and theg~ does.~,exist, a.[.b~y with: that name), is2 nbt]perceptibly ~ny;~more~?ra.tio~al.~,than. to. call ~a ~favorite .p.etuma.~ . Ger-tr~ fle,:5,or~.the stxte of OhiO~"Harold,'' or a~derrick,,,on 4be property', , "~ rl' .~1,~,- .".d" " , ¯ '~ '~ -,-~ ~. - :~ ~TBa'~: be ,to,hea~n, ~he~.figm?s" that we~rehg~ous-bear ar~,the -names obpersons. , ~nd" at"that,~ no ord~narF per-sgns: -Pe~ha~s~hose'p~rs6nshv~d m~the fat-off ~ast. "Per-ha~ little' i~'kfiooh Oaboot-them~x~pt ,tfi~t "a ~N~o or'3 Tr/j~h~r'~fi ,Diocletiah ~Ut th~ to death:; W~rid has not e~n th~"vag~egt memory 6f~the~.~-'rYet~they are the truly gr~at"~of"the 'h6~an race;.and ~God knows them~well., In their :flames ~we have inherited a, lustrous lggacy~ of honor, ~ special tide-to: protection and~aid. And in-.those names~ we h~ve~,6ur~inspiration fovholy living and DECISIONS OI/: THE HoLY SEE. dying--as :Ruskin .words it; . l~ifting hol.y hands without-wraith, and sinking to blessed ~sle~p.withoht fear." So what 6dds if ~the lay-w0rld pities 0r plllor,es us fdr ohr names? 0 What odds if not one person in ten cab pro~ nounc~e those, names fl~uently, and~,,not one in twenty can ~spell them correctly? We know the inner worth of those flames. And as to their ,outward form, well, an occasional glance at the telephone book will afford us unfailing peace hnd satisfaction. ~ .~o~yember'21, 1945:o The Sac~'d P~nite£tiary announced th~/t His " Holiness Pope'Pius XI~i in ari audience granted to the Cardiri~l Pen[- . tenfiary M~jdr ~n Ndve~ber 8, 1~45, h~d gracio~s~ grafit~d t~al indulgence o~ fifty days to the f~thful who devoutly,k~ss the ring of a p~efect apostohc. Th~s ~s t~ same indulgence which the faithful may gain by devoutly k~ss~ng the r~ng of an archbishop or bishop (Pr~es et Pta O~era, n. ~}0). Prefects apostohc are prelates'in m~s~ slon countries who govern a t~rr~tory call~ a prefecture apostohc. Usua!ly they. are not b~s~ops: h~fi~ the special ~r~nt recbunt~d 'abd~. Pemtent,ary answered ~ree questions regarding the p~ous exerc,se of the Way qf the Cross: I. According "to a decred.,dated August 6, 1757, it~ is~provided that for the pious exercise~0f the Way df the Cross, when otherwise a disturbance might be daused, a~priest and two clerics or cantors may ~ake the rounds, pausing at each station and reciting the accustomed prayers, while the faithful ie~ai~ing ia' their places give the responses. Question: Does this de~i~e.~ hold~ .only fgi, th~ ~.bublic~, exercise~ of the Way of the Cross made in a church, o~ does it hold ~hefi this exer-cise is m~de~by religious in their chapels?. - Answer: In the a~rmative to the first part, in the ndgative to the second. II. Questior~: Whether under the circumstances-mentioned in the decrees of Februa~'y 27, 1901, and of May 7, 1902 namely, when 2~49 DECISIONS OF THE HOLY SEE all the religious cannot go in a body from station to station in their chapel without causing a disturbance be~cause of the smallness of the place they can gain the indulgences connected with the i~ious.exer-cise of~the Way Of the Cros~ i'f only one re, ligious (B~roiher or Sister) makes the rounds f~om station to station and reads aloud ~the accus-tomeffprayers, while'rthe rest remaining in their places rise and genu-flect there.for each station? Answer: In the affirmative. " III. Question: Whether in the same circumstances already de-scribed for religious and following the same method, the faithful who live a common life, as mentioned in canon 929 of the Code of Canbn Law, can gain the indulgences attached to the pious exercise of the Way of the Cross if one man or woman, respectively, makes the rounds of the stations of the Wa.y of the Cross and recites the cus-tomary prayers? Answer: In the affirmative. Questions I and II tell us that in a religious community chapel it is not necessary to have the priest recite the prayers for the Way of the Cross; it suffices for one of the religious, Brother or Sister, to make .the rounds from station to station and to recite the customary pray-ers. ~ This has be~n explained before in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (I, 1942, p. 424; IV, 1945, p. 61). Question III extends the same privilege to communities of the faithful living a common lifb, for instance, nurses in/training in a h~pital, old folks living in a home, orphans, studehts at a boarding school, an~ so forth, so that the group may gai.n the indulgence in the chapel if one of their number, man or woman, makes the round of the stations and says the accus-tomed prayers, while the rest remaining in their places answer the prayers and rise and genuflect at each station. OUR~CONTRIBUTORS o ~LAUDE KEAN is on the faculty of Holy. Name College~ the Franciscan house of studies, Washington. D. ~C. He formerly taught at St. Bonaventure College anc~ served as spiritual director of the Franciscan Brothers of Brooklyn. W.H. HING-STON is spiritual director at ~lesuit Seminary, Toronto. CHARLES F. DONOVAN has just completed a year of ascetical study at St. Robert's Hall. Pomfret Center, Connecticut. CLEMENT ~1. MCNASPY is a professor of classical languages at St. Charles College, Grand Coteau. Louisiana. ROBERT B. EITEN, a professor at the University of Detroit, is much interested in ascetical subjects. CYRIL VOLLERT and ADaM C. ELLIS are members of the theological faculty at St. Mary's College, St. Marys, K~nsas. 250 Two I-[eart:s* W. H. Hingston, S.J. IN HIS RADIO address at the close of the Fatima jubilee (October 31, 1942) Pope Pius XII consecrated the wsrld to the Immadulate Heart of Mary. In the same year, on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, he pub- -licly repeated this. consecration and ordered that, as a per-petual memory of this solemn consecration, the Feast of the Immaculate Heart of Mary should be celebrated annually in the universal Church. In obedience to this, order the Sacred Congregation ' of Rites had a new Office and Mass com-pose& and these were presented .to the Holy Father for approval on December 10, 1943. A decree of the Congre-gation of Rites, dated May 4, 1944, which incorporated the text of the new Mass and Office, ordered that the feast 15e celebrated annually on the Octave day of the Assump-tion, August 22. ' Despite the fact that the decree promulgating the feast was issued two years ago, this year may be the first Oppor-tunity for many of us to make,~use of the new Mass and Office~. The occasioh seems an apt one for recalling some of the basic thoughtspertinent to the devotion to the Immacu-late Heart of Mary, and particularly for considering the relation of thii devotion to theworship of the Sac'ted Heart of Jes~us. Obviously there is an intimate link between the devo-tion to Mary's Heart and tha(which we render to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. The same saint was employed by Provi-dence to initiate simultan, eously both devotions. No hearts *This article appeared in slightly different form-in The Canadian Messenger of the Sacred Heart, December. 1945, pp. 778-782. It is reprinted here with permission. 251 .W.~ H. HINGSTON Review [or Religious were ever so united by resemblance and by affection as those of .Jesus and~ Mary. The very flesh of Jesus came from Mary alone through the power of the Holy Ghost. Yet under,the outward likeness of the two beautiful devotions there are fundamental differences; and it is the purp.ose of this a~rticleto set forth briefly the resemblances and the dif2 ferences as a help toward an und~rst~indirlg piety. ¯ There is an essential 'difference to b~ observed from~the oai'set between the Form fff devotion paid to the Sac}ed Heart of Jesus and that paid ~o the Heart of HiS Moth'~r, .be.cause of the fact that in one instance veneration is ren- "d~red tO a divine Person and in the other t0a human son. Since all devotioh goes to the person whom we invoke or honor, it is e¢ident that there must be an infinite distance in this regard between the cultus of the Heart of the God- ¯ man and the cultus of the Heart of .Mary; between honor shown to God_and that shown to a creature no matter how highly favored. ~ To mark t~is essential distinction it seems pre, ferab, le, when speaking of the~ heart ofMary alone and'apart from the heart of Jesus, to use .the words H61y Heart. 0f.Mary, or Immaculate Heart, or Most"Pure Heart of Mary: rati~r than '"Sacred'" Heart ofeM~ry. That i~s whhtthe~Church d6es. Sh~ employa the.title Sacred Heaitof M~ry onl~ in the combified "title of ihe Sacred "Hearts of 5es~s and Mary. Apart°from t'h!s~ preliminary consideration, which.is of a general nature and recalls that first and most essential dis~ tinction which is never lost sight ofo by Catholics but is s~mply taken for granted, there ale other .important dis-tinctions to be made. They relate to the-three chief way~ in which we can co sider a~ay°devo~iofi, or:t0 tde t fire leading aspects under which a dev6t~on may be stud~ed. These are: i'ts ma.,terial object, its f6~mal obje~ct, it.s sp~dia.l 252 appeal~:-i'Th,ough these.wolds ~ay~ ~ound a bit 'technica),~: ~:.-x.~_~;tlSey-~ire very Useful :and '~ccurate;~ and we have all ::.(~li~rized ~ith them thrs~gh~the explanatiSns ~whidh-~e ~a~e Often~h~eafdof the de~otion to the.S'acred Hea;t Jesus. Now on each of these three fundamental ~eadings, ~;~Which together sum up a devotion, the differences between_ "~he~cultus of the Heart of Jesus and that of the H~art Mary are mgmficant and p~ofound. ¯ ~ -~irst~ then, as to the material object. In both devotigns .~a humafi heard.of flesh is presented forour veneration. Yet " ~t Once,we note a profound difference. ~The hea?t of Jesu.s :~" isin ~tself an object of ~doration. It is adorable because ~ is g~a~t.Bf that ihdividual human gature which the Divine :~ ",W0rd" mbec~0 m"m g " ~ncarnate took to H"~ m s~elf and" made Hi_s .Very own.~ It' is part of Him. Though a created object, ~-t~gfigh-a mgtenal thing, ~hough Buman flesh, .~t ~s ~he.heart ~f the Son of God madeMan. The honor, we kh~w /'~ m~s~inciude ad;ratiom "In contrast to this; iff the --,:~ 2~i~n ~to .the heart of Mary such ~eneration i~ refid~fed as~" ~ay~ be paid to a 5feature, b~t nothing o~ the adoration. ~ t~at belongs to God Mone. - N~vertheless, adoration is not the .principal act in th~ ~Tdevotion ~,t~ .the Sacred Heart. The human h~art.of the ;~Sa~ior is:~resented to us nbt primarily.that, we may r~nder ~-~,adoration~ bui because of what it stands for, the hu~" -heart:being the natural symbol of human love.~ T. he_~ight 6f the heart of Jesus spontaneously calls to mind His human -i~ l~ve,for His Father and for us. Uoiversally the he~r(is ~.,. looked upon .as the organ, or at least the symbol-of,ldve. ~So fiatural_a symbol of love is it, that in every lan~uhge the h~art.of a ~an is taken for his inward dispositions.--Aman" ~:. <" .- who - is generous, kind, sympathetic is spoken o~" as big--. ~,'hearted, ~tender-hearted, and so f~rth; or else; if he m~ni- 253 ,W H HINGSTON , ~ ,7~ * ~ ~Reoteto for Reltgtous ,, fegt no such pleasant~characterlstlcs,~ he is spoken of as hard-., h_eart~d, cold-hearted, heartless.~ - --~ N~w that thes~e preliminary observations .have beeri ~ade, we daft completeour statement regarding the materml - j,obj~ct i~ the devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus~an'd,say' F_hat it-is His heart of flesh taken as the natural symbol Of " His hhman lo;¢e. The natural sy.mbolism of the heart p.la~cs a large pii,~t in the devotion, which would not be underitandablewith-.-. out'~t. In the devdtion to Maryls Heart on the contrary, the symbolism of the heart is faint and not at all empha-. sized, ,th~ reason being that it i~ not.so much her~love as her pUrit~y and her fidelity that we consider. Our attentibr; ~alled far more to the purity, htimility: and. Other vir~ue~ of ithat most faithful heart than to the~ qualities of its love., It ts~ riot hard to discover the reason why in the,devotion to t~he Heart of Jesus such emphasis is placed on the natural sym-b01ism of the heart, and why such emphasis, is lacking, from, "the'~correspbn.ding devotion to the Heart of His Mother. This will become still more apparent when we consider the_ ,f, ormal object of each devotion. A first difference between. "the t~vo devotions is thus found evenin the matefial object; which in both devotions is the heart of flesh, but in ~ach t~e~ ~ l~eartfis viewed under a somewhat different asp, ect. ~A setond and more pronounced diffe~rence lies ifi tl'ie~ - .formal object of. each,, d~voti6n. - The formal object of the devotion to Jesus' Heart is His human love for m~n. ,-,, Note in'the first place t.hat it is His human love which is stressed: -~a'ther 'than His divine love. Coeterrial with the FatheY~' '/he Wor& the~Second Person of the m6st adorable,_Trini_ty~, ,has known from ~everlasting and has loved witff an eteriaal love,each one of us. Yet it is not this eternal lovebelonging -to His divine n~ature that we c~nsider in His Sacred Heart:,,~ ~, ' dul~l, 19~ 6 "~ ~ ' ' TWO HEART~. . .~ We~ read-therein His huma~-10k~e. The symbolism of the heartdna.kes this perfectly clear, for tl~ heart i~ the symbol ~ of h~uman love, no~of divine love._ Besides, the love'of ['Jesus is presented to us as a suffering love, andonly the" .human in Him can suffer. " We venerate the human love b_y .which a divine Person loves us. Yet Christ's eternal love 5, belonging to His divine nature, though it is not and cannot properly be symbolized by any .natural symbol," is by no, ,means excluded from this°devotion. -After all, we love that ,Person Himself who loves us and suffers for u , and Him as He is, whole and entire Hisvery self, .the~ one living principle of a lov~ that is both human'and divine. The.Woid having been made flesh, having becorhe P0S- - sessed of a human °nature like ours, now loves-with a love that began only at His Incarnation, that is truly .human,- -xhat is ~harged with all the emotions of man's spiritual will -*and is colored with all those feelings that have their roots -., in- the sensitive part "of man's bodily make-up. Christ, though~a divine Person and not a human person, loves even ¯ in the, manner that human p~rsons love. He experiences, 'tOo, the consequences of human love, even to the suffering ~ Which unrequited love entails. The greater the capacity_ ~-~ .for loving, the greater the capacity for. suffering. The more -. rintense and unselfish theaffection, the ,greater the anguish-when such affection, goes unrecognized .and is not returned: Note in th~ sed6nd place' that it is Jesus" human love ° ~or. men that. is .the formal object, rather than His htiman 10re for His Father. Undoubtedly Christ, in the-human" nature that He had made His own, loved FIis Father with a,_ll the strength Of His human will; yet it is not this lmre -for His.Father that is dwelt upon, but His love for mdn_. '-"Behold the Heart which has so,'loved men," were His words to St. Margaret Mary. In contrast to this we find that in the devotion to the" Most Pure Heart.of Mary the formal object,, insofar ~is it ¯ is love and not fideli.ty, is love for her 3esus and for her _G~d, not her love for ma'nkind, at least not primarily her 10re for.mankind. We do not positively exclude from our-~ thoughts in this devotion the motherly ,love that she bears to all mankind; but our attentiofi is focused on something ¯ ~lse, rlamely, on the complete and unique absence of all self-love, on the absolute fidelity to grace, on the devotedness of-- M~ry's heart to God. . " Thirdly, there is the special appeal to be considered in each of .these two devotions, outwardly so alike. ,Here the contrast is most marked. In the devotion to_ His Sacred Heart, 3esus makes an appeal to us by His very love for to love Him i[~ return. He opens His breast, bares-His'heart - to us, reveals it afire with love for. us, bleeding for us, ~giving itself to uS without holding back anything, even t~o the Cross, even to the Eucharist; He even humbles Himself before us and shows us the wounds thiit our indifference and -. coldness have inflicted upon Him, piercing His v.ery heart. His fs a suffering love, arld.there is an awful pathos in'His hOpeal, t-he appeal of the~ Son of God begging of His crea~ tures the favor of being loved in return. Our Savior appea~l~. ~strongly to our feelings; but it would be a grave mistake 6n_ our.part and a complete misunderstanding of His plea were we to content ourselve~ with~ giving Him in answ~er mere;. ~ pious sentiments. He ga~e us deeds! He pleads for real reparation, exercised not so much in the way that at6nemen~ ~ is usually exercised, ~amely, by works of pe~nance, bfit° rather by works~ of love, especially through the ever more ,perf~ect doing of His Father's will and the perform~ance of acts ofde~votion towards Himself in the Eucharist. In "the devotion to the Most Pure Heart of Mary~ there" duly, 1946 " Two HEART~ -is also an appeal, of course, but it is not an impassioned appeal, nor are we besought to love her. She does not show us the love of her heart for us, as 2esus does, and beg us to love her in return. Unquestionably Mary has loved and actually does love us much, incomparably more than any one, save only her Son, has loved us; but there is nd allusion ~o this in her appeal. Mary's love is also like her Son's, a suffering love; and it is significant that those sufferings by which she shared in the Passion to such an extent that she is deservedly styled Queen of Martyrs were all endured in her sinless heart; for of bodily sufferings we bare no record. It is furthermore a historical fact that c6mpassion for the broken-hearted Mother--so bravely standing beside the.Cross, as St. 2ohn presents her, or with the torn and lifeless-form across he/ lap, as Christian piety has long depicted her first led the faithful into the sanctuary of Mary's suffering, heart. Nevertheless the sorrows 0f Mary form the object of a distinct.and much more ancient devo-tion in the Church; and in the devotion to the Most Pure Heart the thought of compassion is not prominent. The heart of Mary° is usually depicted encircled with fragrant roses to denote the flowers of many virtues, with~ which it is adolried, not with,thorns. The specia! appeal in this devo-tion is reilly a .very ge.ntle and very sweet and persuasiv.e invit~ition to highdr ~hings. ~ It is a call to .lead an interior life and to imitate the Blessed Virgin by purity of,life, ,by perfect.chastity~ of;th~ affectigns .which are to be. dlrect~ed ~ avcay"~ro, m°creatures,wl~oliy tO G~d, by the practice' of all those wrtues that are particularly dear to her Son. 2esus, because He is God, draws us by the cords of Adam to himself, to the Divinity. Mary because she is a creature draws us, not to herself but directly to her Son, to .her God, to Him who is in truth her child, born of her, yet 25.7 W. H. HINGSTON Review for Religious who can say of Himself: "I and the Father are one'.' (John 10:30). "Amen I say'to you, before Abraham was made, I am" (John 8:58). "Philip, he that seeth Me, seeth the Father also" (John 14:9) " The two.devotions closelycorrespondwith'one another, yet each in its own sphere. They are not on the same footing. Devotion to the Heart of Mary is really a beau-tiful pendant to the devotion to the Heart of Jesus. Her heart is, after His, the most beautiful thing in all creation, because in every way the most perfect copy of His. Upon such beauty the angels gaze in rapture. To portray it is beyond the reach of words. Yet in contemplating Mary's loveliness let us guard against the mistake of far~cying that her very greatness keeps her aloof, a sublime but ethereal beauty far removed from us, dwelling above all angels and saints in the court of the Most High. The symbolism of ~tie heart ought to save us frdm. this baneful illusior~ and should impress' upon us that Mary's is a warm and comfbrting loveliness, tender ~and sweet, and constant and motherly. The tho~ught of this should .fill us~ With confidence rather than with awe. Shh can be approached in all our needs and in our every mood. She can comfort as.none other can, for the heart of the Virgin Mother has experienced sorrow of e;cery kind and has ,known such depths of human v~oe tha~ all other anguish compared to hers must seem bearable and light. But, far and above all, tile heart of Mary overflows with joy; and no one can approach her in thought and no( feel happier for it. She takes her children by the hand and leads them straight to the Sacred Heart of Jesus along the way of encduragement, and hopefulness, and holy joy. The resemblanees between the two devotions are man, r and obvious. Reflection and meditation bring out the differences, and with clearer knowledge comes a deeper 258 July, 194i5 TWo HEARTS understanding of both these lovely devotions centered upon two human hearts that beat in unison. What does the devotion to the Most Pure Heart of Mary add to our devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus? It supplies an additional motive for trust in Him. Mary is so approachable, so understanding, so near to us! She is just one of ourselves. 'And withal how close she is to Christ! How dear to His Heart! How worthy by her stainless purity to plead the cause of us poor sinners with Him, who is the fruit of her womb, and to lead us to Him. Besides, a'better realization of the fundamental differ-ences thatexist between the two devotions brings out cer-tain aspects of the devotion to the Sacred Heart of desus which otherwise might never have been so clearly under-stood. In'this sense devotion toMary's Heart is seen to be a complement to the devotion to the Sacred Heart, which ii itself rooted in the mystery of the Incarnation, with which Mary was so intimately associated in the divine plan. But, best of all, there is the encouragement given us by Mary's life to lead an inner life. The attractiveness of . Mary's example is .best studied in its source, her heart. There we can appreciate the exquisiteness of her every action, feel the warmth of her tender affection, and breathe in the entrancing fragrance of her purity, which rises like incense in a pure white cloud from the selfless sanctuary of her immaculate heart. ANNOUNCEMENT It is even more ditScult to get pap~,r now than it was during the war. For this reason we are reducing the size of the REVIEW from seventy-two pages to sixty-four pages. The amount of matter in each number ~ri!l be about the same as we are using more small type than usual. .We shall return to the 72-page issue just as soon as we can get some guarantee of a regular supply of paper. 259 Recept:ion of Seminarians int:o Religious.lnst:it:ut:es Adam C. Ellis, S.3. ON JULY 25:194 l,.the Sacred Congregations of Religious and of Seminaries issued a joint decree regarding the reception of ex-seminarians into a religious institute and the admission of ex-religious into a seminary. This decision was duly" publi.shed in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (1, 1942, p. 71), as was also a private an-swe~ regarding the same given on May 11, 1942 (III, 1944, p: 67). A number of problems have arisen regarding this decree. Recently we received copies of Commehtarium pro Retigiosis which had been delayed by the war. One of these (XXIII, 1942, pp. 226-237) contains an interesting commentary on this decree written by His Eminence, Cardinal La Puma, then Prefect of the S. Congregation of Religious, who died in 1943. Although the Cardinal did not intend to give.an authentic interpretation of the decree but me.rely a pr!vate or doctrinal interpretation, as he himself tells i~s, yet since he was co:author of the decree there is no other person better qualified.to explain it to us; and we are happy to give our readers the substance of his commentary. We shall omit those parts which pertain to the reception of an ex-religious into a seminary, and confine ourselves to the parts which are of interest to-religious the reception of an ex-seminarian into a religious institute. For a better understhnding of the matter, we repeat here that part of the decree which pertains to our special subject: ~ "Likewise, before those who for ahy reason whatever have left a,semlna[y are a'd-miffed fo a religious family, the religious superiors shall have recourse to the S. Con-gregation of Religious, which will inform them of their opinion (;ud;clum) after having cons;dared all the circumstances of the case." The fact that the document issued by both Congregations jointl~r is called a decree should not be_overstressed, since-it provides little more than.a caution and a necessary re~medy to secure the faithful observancd of certain important prescriptions of t_he Codewhich have been treated too lightly. Much less is this document to b'e considered as a general decree, or new law, since it was not prepared in a plenary session, and it was not approved in focma speci~ica by the Holy Father. 260 SEMINARIANS RECEIVED INTO RELIGION The decree does not establish a new impediment to entrance-lnto' religion or into a seminary; nor is previous permission, properly so-called, to be asked from the SS. Congregations to admit a person into a seminary or into a religious institute since this is left to the proper superiors. The SS. Congregations are to be consulted; and after con-sider~ ng tl~e case,, they will give their opinion (iudicium) ; but thereby they'will neither admit nor impede admission, nor defer it, nor render it more difficult. The SS. Congregations had no thought or intention of. granting to Ordinaries, even indirectly, the faculty to oppose the flee entrance of' seminarians into religion except in the cases explicitly mentioned in the Code--that is, in the case of seminarians and other clerics in sa~red orders and even for these only within the strict and well considered circumstances mentioned in canon 542, 2°, first case: Let us now explain the terms of the instruction quoted above. By seminarg is meant an ecclesiastical.college in which those who aspire to the clerical state are,prepared according to the prescriptions of the law, even though a few lay students are admitted. ;A college to which both clerical and lay students are admitted almost indis-criminately chnnot be called a.seminary. To admit to a seminary means to receive a person as a seminarian; to be dismissed from or to leave a seminary supposes that one who has been a seminarian ceases to be an aspirant to the clerical state by reason of dismissal or voluntary withdrawal. To adn~it to a religious f~mitg means to admit one as a true member, that is "to the novitiate, of a religious institute in which pub-lic vows. are taken, but not to a society of men living in common without public vowS. The words "those who for any reason whatever have left ~a seminary" apply to those who are dismissed from a seminary by superiors as well as to those who leave voluntarily, thereby bidding farewell to their vocation to the clerical state, even though they do so unwillingly because of pressure brought to bear upon them from without. The phrase in question does n_ot apply to those who have completed their studies in a seminary and await ordination outside; "nor does it apply to those who have left a seminary in order to fulfill their, military service but intend to return afterwards, and thus do not renounce their vocation. What about those who Ieave a seminary because theg wish to enter religion? An authentic reply of the S. Congrega6on of Religious given to the question on June-25, 1942 says that "the decree does not 261 ADAM (2, ELLIS affect those who leave a seminary or college in order to embrace the life of religious perfection in some religious institute since these are provided for in'canon 544, § 3." Another class of seminarians who are not subject to the decre'e are those who~though they have truly left a seminary, either by reason of dismissal on account of a lack of talent required, for st6dies, or because they thought they were not called to the clerical state now ask to be admitted to the class of lay brothers in a clerical institute or as lag religious in a non-clerical institute. This means that an ex-seminarian in the strict sense of the term may not be admitted to a religious institute as an aspirant to the priesthood. He may, however, be received as a candidate for the lay brotherhood in a clerical insti-tute, or as a Brother in any non-clerical institute. There are some non-clerical institutes in which a few members are promoted to the priesthood while the majority are Brothers. In this case the ex-seminarian could be received as a Brother, but not as a candidate for the priesthood. If a religious superior wishes to receive an ex-seminarian in the strict sense, that is ohe who has been dismissed from a seminary or who has given up his vocation to the priesthood of his own accord, he must have recourse to the S. Congregation of Religious for its opinion on the case before he can admit him to the novitiate as a can-didate ~:or the priesthood. Meanwhile, however, provfded the superior has re~ceived ttie necessary testimonial letters and is morally certain that no impediments exist, he may admit the ex-seminarian in ques-tion to the postulancy or first probation preceding the novitiate while he awaits the opinion of the S. Congregation regarding his admission to the novitiate. In order to avoid useless delay, which may be harmful to voca-tions, the S. Congregation requires the following documents and tes-timonial letters, written or at least signed by the rector of the semi-nary: (1) testimony regarding the moral and intellectual.qualities of the ex-seminarian; (2) testimonials regarding studies made, as well as progress i~i them, and grades obtained in examinations; (3) tes-timony or opinion about the inclination or propensity of the aspirant towards the religious state; (4) finally, testimony regarding the reasons why the candidate left the seminary and the manner of his doing so, namely, whether he was dismissed or left of his own accord, and whether he left after finishing his studies at the end of the scho-lastic year. These dbcuments should accompany the petition of the 262 duly, 1946 '- BOOKS RECEIVED candidate and should be sent to the S. Congregation of Religious by the religious superior together with any other information which may be judged opportune, either in confirmation, or by way of example, or; finally, as a possible refutation of the statements of the rector of the seminary. Books Received (ApriL20 .to June 20) THE NEWMAN BOOK SHOP, Westminster, Ma~iyland. The Sacred Ceremonies of I2ow Mass. 'By Rev: Felix Zualdi. C.M. $2.00, More About' Fatima and the Immacidate Heart of Mary. By Rev. V. Montes de Oca, C.S.Sp. (No price given.) Life of St~ Stephen Harding. By J. B. Dalgairns: $2.50. A Mystic Under Arms. By' Ft. M:-Eugene Boylan, O.Cist.R. (No price given.) The Spirit of Christ. By Father James, O.F.M.Cap. $2.50. Counsels to Confessors. By St. Leonard of Port Maurice. $1.50. FREDERICK PUSTET COMPANY, New York and Cincinnati. Spirit in Darkness. By Rev. Fr. Brice, C.P. $3.50. H. DESSAIN, Malines, Belgium. Caeremoniale: Pars Altera: De Celebrante. Auctc;r~ J. F. Van Der Stappen. (No price given.) THE BRUCE PUBLISHING COMPANY, Milwaukee. Wisdom /or Welfare. By Sister M. Dolorita, S.S.N.D. mentls in Genere. By Emmanuel Doronzo, O;M.I. $3.75. Shoulder.- By Rev. Thomas J. Hosty. $1.50. $2.00. De Sacra- Straight from the THE MARIAN FOUNDATION, San Antonio. The Golden Thread of Netoman. By ReV. William R. Lamm, S.M. (Paper). $.50 THE MACMILLAN COMPANY, New York. St. Paul: Apostle and Martyr. By' Iglno Giordani. $2.50. B. HERDER BOOK ~OMPANY, 'St. Louis. The Mysteries of Christianity. By M. J. Scheeben. $7.50. Christianity: An Outline of Dogmatic Theology for Laymen. By Joseph H. Fichter, S.J. $2.50, JOSEPH F. "WAGNER, INC., New York, Scriptural References for the Baltimore Catechism. By G. H. Guyot, C.M. (No price given.) (No price given.) THE DECLAN X. MCMULLEN COMPANY, New York. Most Worthy of All Praise. By Vincent P. McCorry, S.J. ST. ANTHONY GUILD PRESS, Paterson, New Jersey. Frances Schervier: Mother of.the 'Poor. By Sister Pauline. 263 May a superior grant a Sister with simple vows permls~ion~ fO use a gold watch? A moderate use of an article made of gold is not. in itself, con-trary to the vow of poverty. This is evident from the fact ,that some constitutions approved by" the~HolY See prescribe the wearing of a gold ring. Frequently the constitutions or legitimate custom forbid the use of articles m_ade of gold. In such cases the superior dould not grant permission for the use of a gold watch. But if there is no such prohibition, the, superior may grant the permission, provided that the watch is not so expensive as to cause surprise to the faithful who see th~ religious wearing_it. This element depends upon. local circum. stances and customs. A possible solution for the 'problem involved might be'to have the watch removed from its gold case and put into one of less precious material. ~ 23 Accordln9 to canon law how many delegates are necessary to make up a general chapter representing a community of one thousand Sisters? May delecjafes of the general chapter of a religious communlfy induce other members o{ the chapter, before the election of the mo÷her general has taken place, to vote for a certain group of Sisters whom they wish have fpr council members? Canon 507, § to tells us that "in elections which are made by chapters, the universal.law as set forth in canons 160-182 shall be obsdrved, as well as the constitutions of the institute which are not contrary to this universal lawJ' The Code leaves th.e organization of general chapters of religious institutes entirely to the constitutions. Constitutions approved by the Holy See. usually provide that every house of twelve or more members is represented in the general chapter by the local superior and by at least one delegat~ elected by the mem-bers of the local community. Smaller houses are grouped together to form a unit of from twelve to eighteen members. This group then elects one delegate from among the local superiors and one from amdng the subjects. If the institute requests it, the S. ~ongregation of Religious will allow large communities one delegate for every twelve Sisters. Thus a community of fifty Sisters would be entitled 264 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS to elect four delegates from that community. Paragraph two of canon 507 states explicitly: "All must abstain from seeking votes either directly or indirectly for themselves or for others." This law is dear and needs no explanation. Howe:oct, the constitutions frequently allow the members of the chapter to seek information from other chapter members regarding the qualifications of certain individuals well-known to them. Insuch a case the mem-bers bf the chapter ~hould give the information required, but should abstain from positively urging any member to vote for another mem-ber. Their ~duty should be confined to giving the information requested~ according to the best of their knowledge, in all charity and sincerity. It may be well to note i~ere that 'the delegates elected by the indi-vidual communities sh0uld not be instructed regarding persons to be voted for. This would clearly be contrary to the canon quoted above: The community must have confidence in the good judgment of the delegates ,whom they elect. --24--- A college has regular tuition and board and room charges. Over and above these charges_there are fees in various departments for certain courses, for instance in home economics for food, interior decoration, and s6 forth; in the music department, for the use of musical instruments. In a~ word, these fees are for things used, for materials, instruments, and the llke. Tl~e sum total of fees charged in any department make up the budget of that department. Must such fees be used only as described or may they also be used for the general cjood of the department, for instance to buy supplies, such as records, in the music department; to give the students of that particular department an. outing; to finance a student's trip to-a con-ventlon as a representative of that department? As long as the fees charged to make up the budget of any si'ngle department are used in that dep~rtment~ both justice and Canon Law ate satisfied. ~:~he purchasing Of instruments and stipplies needed for -the laboratory experiments of the department are certainly for the benefit :of the students, and the same inay be said regarding the travel-ing expensesof a representative of the department who is sent to a .convention. And it is perfectly in keeping with the law of,'the Church to use any balance left over at the end of the year to give the students of that department an outing or some other entertainment " to which, payment of the fee for board and tuition gives them no right or cl:aim. 265 QUESTIONS AND ~NSWERS Review for.Religious ' m2Sm, Our constitutions havi~ the following provision regarding candidates for admission: "Their parents must have borne a good reputation; and should these have been under repute of any enormous crime, or have been condemned in any criminal court, the aspirants cannot be received." Does this artlcle of our constitutions oblige us 1o reject an aspirant whose par-enfs are divorced and remarried? Since the constitutions seem to have in mind a crime against the civil law and a condemnation in a civil criminal court, divorce and "remarriage would not come under the prohibition of the constitu-tions. The requirem'ent of a good reputation on the part of the par-ents looks to the edification of th.e faithful. One may say that the parents have lost their good reput~ition if the faithful would be scan-dalized by the admission of their daughter into a religious commun-ity. Hence in our practical case, if the divorce and remarriage are things "of the past, forgotten by most people, there would be no diffi-culty in receiving the aspirant. If they are recent events,, p~udence must dictate whether the reception of the candidate into religion would cause disedification or not. It may be well to note that the constitutions do not positively forbid the reception of the daughter of parents who have a bad reputation, as is the case in the second part of the article quoted. Hence it seems that such a candidate could be admitted even though her parents are divorced and remarried provided her reception would not cause scandal to the faithful. In some instances at least, it might be a cause of great edification: for instance, if it became known that the daughter was entering religion to aton~ for the sins of her parents. --26-- I heard recently of a community of Sisters in ~vhlch custom demands that they go to confession in seniority. Do you know if such a cu'sfom really exists? Would it not be against canon law? It seems to me that confes-sors' might easily recognize their penitents in such circumstances. It is not clear just what is meant here by going to confession "in seniority." If it means "according to seniority groups"---e.g. senior professed, then junior professed, then novices there seems to be nothing particularly harmful about the custom. This arrangement according to groups would simply facilitate good order and could hardl~r be a source of embarrassment to individuals. Very likely our correspondent refers to a case in which indi- 266 Julg, 1946 QUES'~IONS AND ANSWERS Oiduals go according to sepiority. 'We t6o have heard of such a custom, although we do not know of any definite pl_ace where it exists. Strictly speaking, this custom is not against the l'etter of canon law; at, least, we are not aware of any provision of law which forbids it." It'seems to us, however, that such a custom is not in accord with the spirit of canon law. For one thing--as our corre-spondent points Out" it makes it very easy for confes'sors to recog: nize ~oenitents, for if the confessor knows the community at all he will. very likely know something of the order of seniority. This is often embarrassing t6 a confessor and it.is also an obstacle to the perfect liberty of spirit enjoyed by a penitent. At least, many penitents can confess more freely when they are not recognized as individuals. An added inconvenience for the penitent, if individual seniority is insisted on, is the fact. that those who immediately follow her will always know ju,st howlong her confession takes. Also, if she does wish to take a long time, she may be embarrassed at the thought of delaying the others. m27-- What is the mind of the Church on such matters as havln9 contests between 9fades to have the most Communions in a week, and on havln9 compulsory Communion Sundays under those circumstances where the-external pressure on an individual to receive Communion is very 9rear2 The principle for solving questions like this was clearly formu-lated in a reserved instruction issued by. the Congregation of the Sacraments on December 8. 1938. The text of this instruction may be found in The Canon Law Dfgest, II, p. 208. A synopsis of the instruction was printed in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, III, p. 268. The same number of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (III, p. 252) contained the translation of a very thor6ugh commentary on this instruction by Father Emile Bergh, S.3. For an adequate discussion of this impor-tant matter we refer our c~)rrespondent to the text of the instruction and to Father Bergh's article. Answering the question very briefly, we should say: Any prac-tice which induces pressure to receive Holy Communion is wrong and should be changed without delay. If '!spiritual treasuries," contests between classes, Communion Sundays, and so forth, are had at all, they should be conducted in such a way that all indi;ciduals will feel perfect freedom to abstain from Communion if they wish. 267 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Revleto ~or Religious According to our constitutions, .the order of precedenc6 among .the Sisters is as follows: The .superior general always and everywhere precedes all the Sisters including local superiors. Then come: the general council- Ior~ accorcfing to the order of'thelr election; .the secretary general; ~the treasurer general: former superiors general in the mother house (in other houses they follow the local superior); the mistress of novices'. Is this order of precedence to be interpreted as ¯follows? (I) All general officers taEe -precedence over the local superior in pres;ding over the assemblies of~ the mother house community. In other words, in the event .that the superior cjeneral is not i~resent, who presides over the assemblies and exercises of the mother house community? (2) Just what rank and authority, does the Io~al s~perlor of the mother house hold in the mother house? (3) If the mistress of novices is a councillor and the local superior is not, does that fact dispense the mistress of novices from being subject ~o the local supe-rior and excuse her from a chapter presided over by the local superior? (4) Does a councillor stationed in any house other than the m~)ther house take precedence over the local superior? Before answering the specific questions asked above, it may be helpfial to analyze the concept of precedence. Precedence is a sign of g~e~ater honor because of greater e~cellence. It consists in the right to occupy a more honorable place i~a church, in processions, or in assemblies; or in the right to act before others. for instance, to cast a vote ahead of others. This right of precedence supposes-in the person who enjoys it a certain excellence or dignity which places on others the obligation of reverence or obedience to them. Among religious the right of precedence is conferred upon an indi-vidual religious because of th~ office which he holds. Such.an office may or may not have authority over others attached to it. Thus superiors in a religious institute (whether they be general, provincial; or local superiors) have precedence over their subjects by reason of their authority to govern them (canon° 106, 2°). Other officials such as councillors, secretaries, bursars, mistresses of novices, enjoy the right of precedence because of the dignity of their office .even though it does not carry with it any authority over other professed r.eligious. .From the foregoing' it is evident that in assemblies in which no authority is exercised, such as the presence Of a religious community in chapel for the recitation of the office or of othe~ prayers in com-mon, or attendance at meals in the common refectory, it is quite 268 1946 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS r~asonable that-some officials enjoy" pre.cedence over the local superior', even though they-be subject to her in the external discipline of ._the house. They would rank higher in the order of preced.ence~ and would take.a higher.placein the chapel or in the dining room: but .they would not exercise" any, act of authoritg in either place: Such acts "of authority in general:assemMie's belong to superiors only, not to officials who do not enjoy authority over others by reason of their- - office. . The order of precedence in any particular institute is determined by t'he constitutions and by the customs of that institut~e (canon 105, 5°). The common law contains no provisions governing precedence of officials within a .particular institute. According to the present practice Of the S. Congregation,of.Reli-gious, precedence in religious congregations ,is as follows: (1) The superior general precedes all superiors, provincial as well as local, always anti everywhere. (2) The general councillors come next, in the. order, of their election, then the secretary .general and the treasurer general, but only in .the general mother house' in other houses they take their places after the local superior. (3) Former supe~riors gen- ¯ eral come after the treasurer_general, but only in the mother house. Some constitutions give precedence over local s.uperiors to the ~general councillors and to the secretary and treasurer general. Such provisions~ of older con'stitutions would prevail over the piesent practice of the S. Congregation. Any doubts, especially with regard to recently approved constitutions, should be solved according to the pr.esent practice of the S. Congregation. (4) The provincial superior has precedence in all the houses of his province; i~rovincial councillors, provincial secretary and treasurer take precedence but in the provinr cial house only: in other, houses they come after the local sup~erior. Regarding the local superior of the mother house: (1) She gov-erns the community of the mother house just as a local superior ggv-erns a local~ house, that is, in all things pertaining to the community as such,'but subject to (he limitation put upon local superiors by the law of the Church'and by the constitutions. (2) Evidently the superior general takes precedence over the local superior everywhere and at all times; she is not subject to the local S.uperior of the mother house. (3). Unless the constitutions or legitimate "custom~ have exempted higher officers and have made them-directly depend.ent on the superior general, the general councillors, secretary and treasurer ¯ general, exTsuperiors and so forth, are all subject'to the local, s.uperior 269 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS even thotfgh in public assemblies they take a higher place. (4) So,me constitutions provide that the first councillor or any one of the coun-cillors appointed by the superiqb general~ shall be local superior of the mother house. ' The mistress ot: novices and the novices are subject to the local Superior in all matters pertaining to the general discipline of the house (canon 561, § I). The fact that the mistress of novices is also a general couricillor would not change her relations to the local supe-rior of the mother house unless the constitutions or legitimate custom place her direct.ly and immediately under the superior general. In this latter case ~i distinction would have' to be made. In her official capacity as mistress of novices, she would still be under the general authority of the lo.cal superior together.with her novices by reason of the legisla-tion- of the Code; but in her private capacity ~s a general councillor she'would n6t, but: would be directly finder the authority of the. supe-rior general. We are ready- now to answer the questions asked above:. 1. In the absence of the superior general, the local superior of. the mother house presides over .all assemblies of the mother house com-munity. Officials--such as general councillors, the secretary general, the treasurer general--may precede th~ local superior in such assem-blies, that is they may occupy a higher place of honor; bfit they do not fireside, tl'iat is they do not exercise any authority, ianless legiti-mate custom gives them the right so to do. 2. The local superior~ of "the,mother house exercises the same authority over the community as such as does any other local superior over her community. All Officials, the superior genera.1 alone excepted, are subject to her regarding the general discipline of the house, unless -the constitutions or "legitimate custom have exempted higher officials from her authority and have made them subject to the superior gen-eral alone. If the mistress of novices is a councillor and the local superioress. is not, the former wo~uld still :be subject to the local superior in. the chapter of faults presidedover by the local superior, unless the coun-cillors have be~n~explicitly excused from such s.ubjection either by the constitutions or by legitimate custom. , 4. NormaIly a general councillor stationed in another house wh{ch is not the mother house does not take precedence over the.local superior unless the constitutions or legitimate custom explicitly so declare. 270 THE MYSTICAL'LIFE. By Pascal P. Parente, S.T.D., Ph.D., ~J.C.B,.A, s' s o "c,ate Professor of Ascetical Theology,. Catholic University of America. Pp. x ~- 272. B. Herder Boo~( Company, St. Louis, 1946. $2.50. This is the companion volume to the same author's The ~tscet[cat Life, which appear.ed two years ago and contained an announcement of this work. With it Father Parente completes his systematic sur-vey of the spiritual life, and gives us the first study of the kind to ema'nate from an American theologian. Thus it possesses a certain histo'ric~l distinction. In content it is just about what one would expect in a brief intro-duction to mysticism. The first part of it is entitled "General Aspects and Basic Elements of Mysticism," the. second "Mystical State~ in Particular," and the third "Mystical Phenomena."' The last chapter discusses the practical questions of direction for mystics, the perusal of mystical literature, the vocation to the mystical life, °and desire for it: Without saying much about the controversies which have enlivened mystical theology i~i recent years, Father Parente generally steers a middle course between the doctrines of the" extreme schools. \ He is a strong advocate for the distinction between acquired and infused ~onteinplatlon. Rather singularly and originally he pro-poses that the difference is neither specific nor one of degree,-bu.t one of iaianner, of the way in which contemplation comes to one. It is highly uncertain whether St. Teresa, for instance, and others who ha~e experier~ed the diversity, would agree that there is not a greater distinction. In describing the prayer of quiet, the first of the "infra-ecstatic states~,'' the author writes: "As a matter of fact, God by reason of His omnipresence does not enter but simply makes Himself known to the soul" (page 121). Is there any such perception or . experience in" acquired Eontemplation? The vocation to mystical graces is not universal, but, at least practically, restricted to a limited number ofsouls. 'It is rather characteristic of this ~rork that it opens with an inter[ esting account of the ancient pagan mystery cults. It contains rela-tively much from Scripture and also from the Fathers Of the Chfirch that illustrates or supplies analogues to mystical phenomena. The cases botfi of Teresa Neumann and of Padre Pio of Pietralcina, the 271 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Relioious first stigmatized priest, are .treated professedly. ~-G. AuG. ELL/~RD, 8.2. MEDITATION ON THE PASSION. Compiled from Varlou~ Sources, with an Introduction" by the Reverend Reginald Walsh, O.P: Pp. rift ~ 305. The Newman Bookshop, Westm. lnsfer, Maryland, 3946. $3.'/5. "Reaction to a meditation book, especially t'o a book on the P~is-sion, is aft'extremely personal thing. What strikes a responsive chord in one person may prove dull finduninspiring to another. Yet, in spite of the uncertain personal factor; this book is .likely to please and to be helpful to almost anyone who sincer.ely wishes good meditation matter on the Passion. The various chapters treat of the entire Pas-sion'with thoroughness, yet without that meticulousness that makes one nod drearilywhile preparing his meditation. The. points are well planned and gasiiy fixed in the mind. The reflections are sound and agreeably warm. The colloquies--well, it seems that in affy meditation book colloquies have to be taken as "the bitter with the sweet." At least, this reviewer (behold :the personal element!) would be well pleased: if all meditation books dis.pensed with the Ohs .and Abs that give colloquies the fingernail-on:the-blackboard effect. But it is only fair to say ~hat if you like colloquies, you will likethese; and if you do not like them, you can. easily skip them, for they are clearly labeled. The meditations were composed originally by a ~ister who was mistress of novicek for thirty years. The editor has omittedthe parts that applied to ieligious women as such; hence the present edition is useful (decidedly so) to ~ill.--G. KELLY, S.3. THE CATHOLIC CENTRE. By Edward Ingram_ Watkln.Pp. 261. Sheed' and Ward, New YorE, 1945. $3.00.- The republishing of this book Six years after its first appearance is subely, due as much to the book's intrinsic merits as to the fact that Mr. Watkin's more recent Catholic Art and Culture has made his name and w(~rth known to a greater number of readers. This earlier work takes its name from the fact that "Since Catholic Christianity is the supreme :and most complete revelation of religious truth, and the philosophy which it implies the most.balanced and comprehen-sive i.nt~rpretation of human experience, we shall expect to find Catholicism and the philosophy it demands occupying a central position between all extremes and one,sided excesses, reconciling and 272 dulg, 1946 ~ BOOK, REVIEWS balancing[them,by m~aintfiining the p~ositive truth they'contain'~aiad rejecting their~exce~ses and exclusions." The detailed exposition of the ways in which Catholicism is central,~ complemented realistically by the fa~t, that "As. actually~ practiced and understoo& ho.wever, Catholicism is not the perfect oia media, nor do.es .it occupy the exact centre of. human thought and action" because of~human 1.imi-" tations "gives, the author materi:~l for a skillfully integrated., bogk. He~outli~es the ideal, searches out and b~ings under a very uncom~ .plimentary spotlight remediable defections from the ideal; and pro-poses various readjustments by .way of constructive criticism: The attentive reader will not always agree with Mr. Watkin, but he cad hardly fail. to-be,prodded into serious thinkihg oi~ fundamental .questions.--C. DE MUTH, S.,J. MISSION FOR SAMARIT.AN$. By Anna Dengel, M.D. I~p. x -[- 126. The ~,:~ Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee, 1945. $1.75. Medical rriissions is" a,live subject,in the Catholic' mind. Here we hav~.~short .bier-comprehensive treatment from the pen of a pioneer in the movement. The doctor'and the religious in Mother Dengel speak on every page. Not only is she a skilled practitioner,~but she hfis~studied ~he;history °bf:her :field thoroughly. Her statements,~are carefully~ weighed anff sulS~orted; by c0nvincing~evidence. ceeds in stirring the heart to an.appreciation for her ideal,~the win_ning 6fpagan souls for,Christ by~supplyin~ them with.the expert medical ~a~?e of religious .doctor~ and.nurses. Christ is responsible; :for the Catholic attitude~'towards the s!~ck: He first healed men's bodies and.then won their~souls: Mother Dengel has it ~thiit one purpose of His coming was to. renew the weak.ened h~man"body for.the sake of thesoul. She~ puts before us the response ofthe Church tboChrist's~example and precept. ~ Universal care ,of the si~k and°diseased'has flourished wherever~Christ's Church has~ reache& The lat~er half~ of the book is of intriguing'interest. ~ The medi-c~ il situation of mosto of,our mission~fields, includingeven the,,Negroe.s and white vagrants of America, i~ briefly but chpably described. Tbe picture is indeed pathetic, all the more so because ignorance, super-station, and~lack of facilities i~ccount for so much needless suffering. Mother De_ngel shows us ou~ opportunity: if with complete unselfish-ness we devbte ourselve~to the restoration of pain-wracked bodies, we can be sure that the grace of Christ, working through us,¯will take care of their souls. R.D. HUBER. S.J. ,.273 BOOK REVIEWS FORMING A CHRISTIAN MENTALITY. By the Reverend Killan J. HennHch, O.F.M.Cap. Pp. xll -t- 288. Joseph F. Wagner, Inc., New York, 1945. (No price g~ven.) This book, designed as a companion volume to the :author's Youth Guidance, was written to aid priests, teachers, and parents in their direction of'young people. The work is divided into two parts. The aim of the first is to promote the spirttuahzatlon of individuals in their preparation for married life. The second part continues this project with a description of the Christianization of the famil,~ through the liturgy. Father Hennrich's qualifications for this task are attested by his many years of experience in dealing with'adolescents and by th6 dozen or more books he has written in the past several decades-on various phases of Catholic social activities. The exposition is rather abstract and impersonal, almost wholly unrelieved by graces of style, variety, or sprightliness. But preachers and educators who study the book perseveringly will find that it outlines a sound program for the instruction and religious guidance of young men and women. C. VOLLER'I', S.~I. HOW TO MEDITATE.BY Rev. John P. Roothaan, S.J. Translated by Rev. Louis J. Puhl, S.J. Pp. viii + 72. The Newman Bookshop, Westminster, Maryland, 1945. $1.25. First published in 1837, Father Roothaan's little treatise De Ratione Meditandi has become the classic exposition of the so-called "Ignatian Method'" of prayer. Not that St. Ignatius ever intended that religious and other pious persons should confine themselyes to this.rigidly methodical form of prayer for the rest of their lives. He himself "suggests bther forms in his Spiritual Exercises; but he intended it to serve as an introduction to and foundation for a life of prayer. Hence the translator tells us in his introductory note: "It is an undeniable fact that here even the most unlettered beginner will find a clear, easy, fruitful method of meditation that can easily be adapted., to personal needs and dispositions." Normally the religious who has seriously practiced this funda-mental method of prayer, as explained by Father Roothaan, will in due time pass on to the practice of affective prayer: but even he will find it helpful if not necessary to fall back occasionally upon the method d~scribed by the author. It is always a safe refuge in time of spiritual dryness and affliction. ¯ 274 July, 1946 ,~ BOOK REVIEWS Thi~ little book should b~ in the hands of every novice. Older ¯ religious will 6nd it u~eful reading "to spu'r them on to greater dill-gence in practical .and fruitful prayer, and zeal in the pursuit of per-fection." This reviewer .regrets exceedingly that this English version of Father Rootbaan's classic was not publ.ished ~n pamphlet form so as t6 give it a wider distribution.--A.C. ELLIS, S.J. THE MYSTICAL BODY OF, CHRIST. By Frledrlch Ji~rgensmeler, D.D. Transl,,fed by H. Gardner Curtis. Pp. :~09. The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee, J945. $3,00. The first section of this book discusses the biblical doctrine.and offers an excellent presentation of the importance and place of the Mystical Body in the divine plan of salvation. The second part develops the author's conviction that this ~ys~ery is the fun~amental~ principle of asceticism. /, The translation from ~bicb this photographic reproduction was ma'de is yery disappointing. After comparing several sections of the book, sections of ten to fifteen pages in length, with the original German, this reviewer was astounded at the many inaccuracies found in the translation. Furthermorel ~t times, phrases, clauses (in fact, sometimes' whole sentences) have been~ omitted. For example, we. read (p. 64) : "The Second Person of the. Godhead u, nited mankind to Himself in a hypostatic union." And, again (p. 81) : "Christ is distinguished from the Father and the Holy~ Ghost by the circum-stance .of His human, existence." .Needless to say, the original Ger-man does not have such ambiguous-(to say.the very least)~ doctrine. The last paragraphs of pages 65~.~66, and sections of pages 69 and 70 are very inaccurately translated. In general, religibus who have not studied theol0gy will find this book too ponderous. Sections, especially the treatment of the Mys: .tical. Body in the ascetical life, will be .helpful. But we cannot ,. recommend the English translation.--M. LA PIETE EUCH,~RISTIOUE By J. F.Ber~ube, s.s.s. Pp. 151. La Libr'-'qrle Eucharls÷ique, 514,.avenue Monf-Royal Est, M<;nfreal 34, 1945. (No '" prlce-given,) The source,, the means, ~nd the end of a11 our life of grace is 2esus Christ. The Holy Eticharist, ~because it c6ntains the whole Christ, must therefore be the source, the means, and.the end of .our spiritual 275 BOOK REVIEWS R~oieto [oF Religidus life. How the Eucharistic Christ, in the ~acrifice of the' Mi~ss, in Holy Communion, in the Real Presence, is the all and all of our tioliness, and fl0w we should respond to these profound truths-- .l~his is the book's important message to the faithful. It is followe.d by two eloquent~ inspiring pronoi~ncements of Pius XII