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Issue 45.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1986. ; Direction and Reconciliation The Prayer of Being Responses to Rape The Key to Spiritual Direction Volume 45 N umber 6 Nov.IDec. 1986 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. REVIEW FOR REt.IGIOOS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1986 by REVIEW FOR REL~OOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis. MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $11.00 a year; $20.00 for two years. Other countries: add $4.00 per year (postage). Airmail (Book Rate) $18.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVtEW YOn RELIGIOUS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. 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The World Synod of Bishops: The Extraordinary Session of 1985 The Ordinary Session of 1987 Jan Schotte, C.I.C.M. Archbishop Schotte is General Secretary of the World Synod of Bishops. This article is based on his address to the Catholic Press AssOciation Convention, June 7, 1986, the text of which was first published in its The Catholic Journalist, July, 1986, pp. 5-8. ~n this article I will deal with what I have learned, during the past~months since my transfer to the office of Permanent Secretary, about one of the youngest institutions of the Catholic Church, the World Synod of Bishops. When in the course of my remarks I intend also to say a few words about the relationship between the Synod and the media, please accept my contribu-tion as the expressio~n of a deeply held conviction that the media have a major role to play in the mission of the Chm:ch, and especially with regard to the Synod of Bishops. This conviction is based on my experience as a priest and missionary who has been privileged to serve the Gospel of the Lord and his Church in many different functions. I worked with the media as the briefing officer for French-speaking journalists in the 1980 and 1983 Synods of Bishops. In those days, I was somewhat biased in favor 0f media people. Today, as Secretary General of the Synod, I dare to hope that I still carry within me that same favorable bias. I will confine my remarks to.three areas. In the first place, I will share some insight into the preparation, the process and the final product of the Extraordinary General Session of the Synod of Bishops, held in 1985. 801 802 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 Secondly, I will brief the reader concerning the next Ordinary General Session of the Synod of Bishops on the theme "Vocation and Mission of the Laity in the Church and the World, Twenty Years After the Second Vatican Council," which is scheduled to take place from October 1 through 30, 1987. Finally, I will offer some very tentative comments on the relationship between Synod and media, telling what the Secretary General of the Synod expects from the media, and at the same time expecting to hear from the media professionals, what they expect from the Synod Secretariat. I. The Extraordinary Synod of 1985 The Extraordinary Synod, which received more media attention than any of the previous synods, was first and foremost a Synod of Bishops-- just that, but totally that! What Is the Synod of Bishops? It is not easy to give a brief reply to this question. It becomes especially difficult when the person asking the question expects an answer in terms of civil or political administration. Is it a parliament, a Church senate, a private council of the pope, a mini-ecumenical council? Each of these bodies has some analogy with the Synod, but none is apt to explain the true nature of the Synod. The Synod is explainable only in terms of the interior logic of the Church, from within her structure and her life. Dealing with an ecclesial entity, a juridical-institutional explanation is not sufficient, but it is necessary to have recourse to the notion of the Church as mystery and as communion. The Synod of Bishops has become part of the life of the Catholic Church; we accept its existence as normal, undisputed. From 1967 onwards we have witnessed the synodal assemblies treating topics and arguments of great importance and attracting the attention not only of Catholics but also of many others. The Synod of Bishops has become one of the propulsion centers of the pastoral activity of the Church, introducing into its life the more important reforms called for by Vatican I1. We recall the 1967 Synod which discussed several topics: the basic orienta-tion for the New Code of Canon Law; orientations for the reform of semi-naries; mixed marriages; and institution of the International Theological Commission. The first Extraordinary Synod of 1969 contributed to the clarification of the role of the bishops' conferences their relationship to the Holy See. The Synod of 1971 againdiscussed two fundamental topics: one on the identity of the Catholic priest and the meaning of priestly celibacy; the other on The World Synod of Bishops / 803 social justice. The 1974 Synod was dedicated to the theme of evangeliza-tion. It was followed in 1977 by the Synod on catechesis. The Synod of 198Odiscussed the Christian family. The Synod of 1983 addressed the issue of reconciliation and penance. The Second Extraordinary Synod of 1985 evaluated the implementation and impact of the Second Vatican Council. Truly an impressive list for only twenty years of activity. Such fundamental and vast themes together with their links to the Council and the post-conciliar period suffice to show the growing importance of the Synod of Bishops in the life of the Catholic Church. It is an institution with connotations of universality, agility and topicality, which seeks to fulfill its role as Syn-odos, the "walking together" of bishops for the benefit of the universal Church and all humankind. The Synod of 1985 It is necessary to understand that any .session of the Synod of Bishops is a fruit of the Second Vatican Council, and an expression of collegiality and communion in order to fully grasp the meaning of that special event that was the Second Extraordinary General Session of the Synod of Bishops, which took place from November 24 through December 8, 1985, on the theme: "The Second Vatican Council on the Twentieth Anniversary of Its Closing." In recent years, the Church has been subjected to surprises: the death of the smiling Pope John Paul I after only thirty-three days in office; the election of the first non'Italian Pope in four centuries; the vitality and charm of Pope John Paul II who travels to all continents and keeps drawing massive crowds of Catholics and non-Catholics alike. In some way, we have become used to such surprises. Despite all this, when John Paul II made his announcement of an extra-ordinary general session of the Synod of Bishops to evaluate the impact of the Second Vatican Council, the Church and the world were not prepared for this new surprise, so much so that immediately a full-blown debate started in the news media about the purpose Of the Synod, about the intentions of the Holy Father, to say nothing about the feasibility, of calling the bishops to Rome with only eleven months of advance notice. Yet this announcement was fully consistent with the personality and style of the Holy Father, and more especially in accord with his deepest faith convictions. It is no secret that John Paul II has a deep sense of his mission, and that he is constantly looking for ways and means to confirm in the faith his brother bishops and the whole people of God. We also know that he attaches great importance to significant gestures and symbols. We have learned that he is not afraid to face reality and tO assess situations with 804 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 utmost lucidity. All these factors taken together would have been sufficient to explain why he deemed it necessary to convene on short notice an Extra-ordinary General Session of the Synod of Bishops, But there is more. John Paul II is a firm believer in the collegiality of the bishops and he is a convinced defender and promoter of the Second,Vatican Council. The Holy Father has always believed and continues to believe in. the Council, not for strategic ~r.easons but for reasons of faith. Vatican II was for him, who participated in all its sessions as a young bishop, an experience which deeply marked .his entire episcopate and pontificate. A faithful analysis of the unwavering support of the Pope ~for the Council seems the only serious and objective method for interpret!~ng the reasons behind the convening of the Second Extraordinary Synod .without falling into the trap of putting the Pope's intentions on trial or of expressing purely subjective judgments. The Pope could not have stated the objectives~of the Synod more clearly: to celebrate,and re-live the extraordinary spirit of the Council; to verify what has been done to implement the Councilteachings; to promote a deeper awareness of the Council and the application of its principles to present and future problems. To look again at the Second Vatican Council and to assess its implemen-tation was, for the bishops at the Synod, a massive program. Yet it was unrealistic to think that the Pope intended to review every single Council document in a comprehensive way within the twelve ~working days that were available. It was equally unlikely that the Holy Father had a further agenda, a hidden one, to throw into reverse the process of renewal initiated by the Council, or to use expressions from certain journalists, "to bury the Council," "to put the brakes on renewal," "to set the clock back," "to roll back the tide," or "to let theprophets of doom back in after they have been banned from the Church by John XXIII." Preparation of the Extraordinary Synod After the surprise announcement by the Holy Father, the General Secretariat of the Synod began immediately the preparation of this unusual event. N,Iy predecessor, the then Archbishop, now Cardinal, Jozef Tomko initiated a series of consultations with a number of bishops and theologians who had participated in all sessions of the Second Vatican Council. Some of those had played a role of primary importance, either as officers of the Council or as participants or experts involved in the drafting of the Council documents. They were asked to react to the three objectives indicated by the Pope and to formulate guidelines for a consultation of all the bishops' conferences. The World Synod of Bishops / 805 The fifteen members of the Council of the General Secretariat were called to Rome for a two-day meeting, March 14-15, 1985, to examine the answers to the preliminary consultation. It was then decided to mail a questionnaire to the patriarchs and metropolitans of the Oriental Churches, to the presidents of bishops' conferences, to the Union of Supefiors General and to the heads of the various departments in the Roman Curia. This questionnaire Went out on April 1, 1985, with a covering letter in which strong emphasis was put on the necessity for a consultation that would reach as many persons and levels of the Local Church as was feasible in so shol~t a time. It was felt that the opinions should be sought not only of the bishops and the experts of the Conference, but also of the priests, religious and laity at large. It was further stressed that the inquiry should try to focus on the major documents of Vatican II, without excluding any of the others. Th6re was no doubt that the debate in the Synod should focus on the nature of the Church and its mission: what is the inner reality of the Church? How does she see herself and, in the light of that perception, how does she organize herself? How does she relate to the complex structures and needs of the world? Such had been the original and genial inspiration of Vatican II itself; any evaluation twenty years later had to concentrate on those same questions. The answers were expected at the General Secretariat by September 1, 1985. However many factors contributed to delays so that the deadline was not respected. The General Secretariat had received only eighteen answers by September I. In the end, however, the result was quite satisfactory: 73.75°70 of the answers'(out of a possible total of 141) were received in time to be incorpo-rated in a summary which reflected the different regional realities, cultures and problems and which~ represented in an objective way the situation of the Church twenty years after the closing of Vatican II. Not every single response to the questionnaire had the same value or authority; some were very detailed while others remained rather schematic; some reflected the thinking of the bishops while 0thersdrew on a large grass-roots response; some had been fully discussed and formulated by the bishops in conference, while others were the work of experts or the secretariat of a conference; some replies reflected rather local concerns while others definitely attempted to see the problems at the level of the Universal Church. All taken together, however, gave a true image of the situation in the Church. I want to share with you a particular observation with regard to this consultation: the formal answers which we received were not the final answers! After the national hierarchies mailed in their submissions, reflection and discussion continued at the level of the single bishop or layperson as well as in the circles of experts, theologians and ecclesial groups or communio 806 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 ties. Many bishops arrived thus at the Synod with different ideas than those expressed in the answers of their respective Conferences. The Final Product The 1985 Synod issued two documents which I am sure you are all familiar with. I feel therefore dispensed from recalling the content of the "Message to the People of God" or of the "Final Report." I only want to clarify a few points. In the media, the fact of the immediate publication of the Final Report was highlighted as an unusual event. Some saw it in terms of a victory of the bisl~ops who wrested this concession from the Pope. The truth of the fact is somewhat different. Every Synod transmits the result of its exchange for consideration to the Holy Father in the form of a report or a list of proposals, or even by entrusting all relevant working papers to the Holy Father, who then decides in what form the results of the Synod will be made public. After the Synods of 1974, 1977 and 1980, the Pope published an "Apostolic Exhortation" in which he presented the results of the Synod. After the 1983 Synod on "Reconciliation and.Penance" however, John Paul II enlisted the collaboration of the bishops elected to the Council of the General Secretariat in preparing a "Post-Synodal Exhortation." During the preparatory phase of the 1985 Extraordinary Synod, many different possibilities for coricluding the Synod had been examined, and the Holy Father did not exclude any, postponing his decision until the Synod had finished its task. When the reports of the small language group~ were presented to the assembly halfway through the proceedings, it became clear that they contained a very rich material, reflecting a large consensus among the participants in evaluating Vatican II's impact and in proposing ways to promote its further implementation. It was then decided to ask the Rappor-teur to .try drafting a final report that would reflect the consensus and the richness of the contributions. This report was debated and finally voted upon. Separate votes were taken on eighteen different sections of the report, and the approval of each one was almost unanimous. In his closing r.emar~s, which followed immediately after the proclamation of the results of the final balloting, the Holy Father stated: Right from the beginning of this Synod, it has appeared clearly how much all those who. were called to participate in it truly shared in its objectives. The results of your work--contained in the "Message" and in the "Final Report"--are witness to your clear-sightedness and your diligent care as well as to your fine ecclesial sense . Therefore, with joy and with sincere gratitude I accept from your hands the "Message" and the "Final Report" which demonstrate this sense of communion: with my consent these docu- The World Synod of Bishops / 807 ments will be rendered public. May the Lord see to it that they bear abundant fruit. It is now your task to ensure that the great force and the awareness of the importance of the Council penetrate deeply into the Universal Church, into your particular churches, and into the various communities. With these words, the Holy Father indicated his approval for the publica-tion of the "Final Report," and manifested at the same time his profound sense of mission and of collegiality. What the "Final Report" makes especially clear is that the Second Vatican Council is the most important event for the Church in the twen-tieth century. The Council offered orientations and answers not only for the questions of the last twenty years, but for the problems of the future as well. The total richness of the documents of the Council, taken together and not separated one from the other, consists in that it explains what the Church is and how she must be Church in the world. The Extraordinary Synod exploded as it were a number of myths which got hold of the minds of many Catholics in the years after Vatican II, and which conditioned the implementation of the Council teaching. Allow me to list just a few. 1. The myth of the primacy of the pastoral over the doctrinal. The "Final Report" affirms: "Special attention must be paid to the four major Consti-tutions of the council, which contain the key for the interpretation of the other Decrees and Declarations. It is not licit to separate the pastoral character from the doctrinal vigor of the documents." 2. The myth of presenting the Vatican Council as a mere historical event, to be left behind as soon as possible in order to work towards Vatican III. The teachings of Vatican II, although looking at the Church and her mission in the light of the prevailing situation, remain valid because they recall funda-mental tenets of the faith and of the Church. 3.The myth of the contradiction between the teachings of Vatican I and Vatican H. The 'Final Report' states: "The Church is one and the same throughout all the Councils." 4. The myth of the preeminence of the spirit over the letter of the Council. The "Final Report" affirms: "It is not legitimate to separate the spirit and the letter of the Council." 5. The myth that pluralism in doctrine o f faith is the way of the future. The "Final Report" states: "The pluralism of fundamentally opposed posi-tions., leads to dissolution, destruction and the loss of identity." 6. The myth that human development is to be promoted without reference to the mystery of the Chu, rch. The "Final Report" says: "It is. necessary to put aside the false and useless opposition between the Church's spiritual mission and diaconia for the world." 81)8 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 7. The myth that any meeting of the world episcopate dissolves auto-matically into opposing camps of North versus South, of East versus West, of liberals versus conservatives. The openness of the debates and the fraternal spirit that was evident from the very first days of the Synod made manifest that there was complete unity. 8. The myth of the intended "'restoration, "" The Bishops affirmed: "The Synod has been for us an occasion which has allowed us once again to experience communion in the one Spirit, in the one faith and hope, and in the one Catholic Church, as well as in the unanimous will to translate the Council into the practice and the life of the Church." We leave to history the final assessment of the Extraordinary Synod of 1985. However it is not presumptuous to state that it was, in many ways, a truly extraordinary event in the life of the Church. The Ordinary Synod on the Laity, 1987 The Synod of Bishops reconvenes in 1987, in ordinary general session, to discuss the "'Vocation and Mission of the Laity in the Church and in the World Twenty Years After the Second Vatican Council." Inevitably the bishops will return yet again to consider the nature of the Church and the responsibility of all baptized for her mission and ministry. The 1985 Extraordinary Synod has provided us with the right theological context in which to prepare for the Synod on the Laity. As you know, the Synod on the Laity was originally scheduled for 1986, The announcement by the Holy Father of an Extraordinary General Session of the Synod in 1985 made it advisable to postpone by one year the con-vening of the Synod on'the Laity. In so doing, the Holy Father acceded to a suggestion that was made by the many bishops' conferences who feared not to have sufficient time for a thorough preparation and consultation with the laity. The deadline for the submission to the Synod Secretariat of con-tributions by the bishops' conferences was therefore extended by six months to May 1, 1986. Not the First Synod on the Laity? The coming Ordinary General Session of the Synod of Bishops will not be the first that deals with the laity. A simple enumeration of the arguments discussed at the past Synods readily demonstrates the continuing and signi-ficant attention which the Synods have devoted to th& theme of the laity. Thus we had the 1971 Synod with its double theme of "Justice in the World" and the "Ministerial Priesthood." Both topics had a particular relevance for the laity: the first in that it touched upon the role of the Church in society--a privileged field of activity for the Christian laity, and the second The World Synod of Bishops / 809 which explored the ministerial priesthood in its connection also with the common priesthood of all the faithful. The 1974 Synod on "Evangelization" recognized and explicitly promoted the specific mission of the laity. It stated: "Lay people, whose particular vocation places them in the midst of the world and in charge of the most varied temporal tasks, must for this very reason exercise a very special form of evangelization." While the 1977 Synod on "Catechesis" stimulated further appreciation of the role of the laity, especially with regard to youth, even more so did the 1980 Synod in its presentation of the Christian family as the primary and basic form of secular vocation and mission in the Church. Finally, the Synod of 1983 recognized and promoted the task of lay people in the work of Christian reconciliation, which finds expression not only within the ecclesial community but also within human society. Reconciliation is not only a personal challenge for each Christian, but a corporate task for the laity. This summary listing of the topics of the Synods amply demo0strates how the Church, through one of her more important institutions, has taken to heart the deepening of her understanding of the vocation and mission of the laity. It could not have been different, since it was one of the major thrusts of the Second Vatican Council to enhance and promote the partici-pation of the laity in the mission of the Church for the salvation of the world. How Was the Theme for the 1987 Synod Chosen? After twenty years of existence, the Synod of Bishops has developed its own procedures and methods, which are all specifically "synodal." This applies also to the selection of a theme for the Synod. At every Ordinary Synod, towards the end of the proceedings, an open debate is organized on possible themes for the next Synod. The Synod Fathers then express their preferences, indicating at the same time why they propose one topic: rather than another. Already at this stage some themes emerge as being especially timely. Immediately after the closing of the Synod, the General Secretary con-tacts all the patriarchs and metropolitans of the Catholic Oriental Church, the heads of the departments of the Roman Curia, and the presidents of national and international conferences of bishops, inviting them to indicate a theme of their choice. This step is necessary since an Ordinary Synod con-sists only of a relatively small number of bishops, and it is imperative to hear from all bishops through their respective conferences. When all the replies have been tallied, the fifteen members of the Council of the Synod Secretariat are then convened to examine the material and 810 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 to formulate more adequately the themes that seem to emerge. Such a further step is necessary because many suggestions from the bishops' conferences will sometimes deal with the same general topic but under different aspects. The top three themes are then prepared for presentation to the Holy Father, who, as the President of the Synod, sets the agenda and determines the topics to be discussed. Up to now, the Holy Father has always been able to honor the results of the consultation, and has steadfastly chosen the theme that emerged as number one. "Vocation and Mission of the Laity in the Church and in the World, Twenty Years After the Second Vatican Council" was requested. The Holy Father, acceding tO this request, told the members of the Council of the General Secretariat on May 19, 1984, the following: It is not difficult to grasp the motives for such a convergence of opinion. In reality, the mission of the laity, as an integral part of the salvific mission of the entire People of God, is of fundamental importance for the life of the Church and for the service which the Church herself is called to render to the world. Among the different motives which have been presented in favor of the theme, the following can be singled out. Within the context of the specifically secular vocation and mission of the laity, there have been numerous posit.ive results and achievements, such as the commitment of many lay men and women in the area of human development, social justice, human rights, peace and international solidarity, politics, human labor and culture. There are also in this area a number of problems which require critical evaluation. Two tendencies which are prob-lematical and raise questions cannot be ignored. A first tendency concerns those among the laity who are so influenced by secularism and by the values, or non-values, of the world that they no longer see that their whole activity in the temporal order is necessarily linked with their faith. This is the case of those men or women who engage in social, political, economic or cultural activity and feel that the inspiration and motivation for their commitment must be found outside their faith. It is the case as well of Catholic public officials who in order to serve all their constituents assume that they must promote positions or norms of behavior which are in contradiction with their faith and their Catholic identity. Another tendency exists where Christians believe that they can carry out their mission by abstaining from any involvement in the problems of society. They withdraw into a purely spiritual or devotional world and close in upon themselves or upon the very private circle of any group or movement to The World Synod of Bishops / 811 which they belong. The Council has very clearly stated that "by reason of their special voca-tion it belongs to the laity to seek the kingdom of God by engaging in the temporal affairs and directing them according to God's will." The same Council also noted that "the laity can be called in different ways to more immediate cooperation in the apostolate of the hierarchy" and that "they have the capability of being appointed by the hierarchy to some ecclesial offices with a view to a spiritual end." In accordance with this conciliar doctrine, a more direct and wider participation of the laity in the pastoral activities of the Church came about. But together with this positive develop-ment, there exists also on the part of some of the laity a far more extensive and stronger demand fo~: access to various "ecclesial ministries." Not all lay participation in ecclesial ministries is without problems. In some local churches, one notices a tendency to restrict the mission of the laity to ecclesial ministries only. This can involve the danger of confusion with regard to the correct understanding of the respective missions of the clergy and of the laity in the Church. We thus see in some situations a real attempt at "clericalization of the laity," while at the same time we assist at the phenome-non of the "laicization of the clergy," when the latter take over the specific mission of the laity in temporal affairs by becoming merely social workers, or p61itical activists. These and other phenomena derive from a particular interpretation given to the vocation and mission of the laity in the Church and in the world presented by Vatican.II. If that interpretation is not correct, the vocation of the laity will not be ~ruly lived out, with the result that harm is done not only to individuals and groups but to the entire ecclesial community. The latter's credibility is impaired and its pastoral efficacy is restricted. It is therefore clear that the doctrine of the Council on the participation of the laity in the mission of the Church and on their own specific mission in the world must be studied in depth at this time. The Preparation of the Synod As soon as the theme of the 1987 Synod had been established, the Secretariat of the Synod invited the bishops' conferences, the Pontifical Council for the Laity and other representative bodies to submit their views on how to approach the theme. The answers were examined first by a task force of theologians, and afterwards by the members of the Council of ti;e General Secretariat. Following the indications contained in the answers from the bishops' conferences and the guidelines elaborated by the fifteen members of the Council, the General Secretariat then produces a preliminary paper called Linearnenta or "outline of the theme." 812 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 The Lineamenta has been sent to all the Hierarchies, not as a working paper for the Synod, but as a help for further study of the theme and for wider consultation in all Local Churches. The outline document is in no way--nor does it pretend to be--a complete and logically ordered treatment of the theme. Neither is it an outline or a draft of a possible future synodal document. It aims to offer a point of departure for analysis, discussion and reflection on the laity: on the doctrinal and pastoral aspects of the question, on values and needs, on achievements and diffict~lties. Its main aim is to stimulate discussion and help the Local Churches deepen their own thinking in. the matter. In the covering letter which accompanied the Lineamenta, the General Secretary insisted that the consultation not be limited to the bishops or to specialized commissions of the bishops' conferences. The letter strongly emphasized that the very nature of the theme, as well as the direct experience of those who fully live their vocation as lay Christians, demand a large scale consultation of the laypeople themselves. This consultation should not be limited to comments on the Lineamenta only, but should continue up to the opening of the Synod itself, so that the participating bishops can truly reflect the situations and expectations of the laity in their particular Churches. Past experience has proven that such a consultation can be a truly bene-ficial event for the Church. It can initiate a process of deeper awareness of all the faithful concerning their own baptismal vocation. In preparation of the 1980 Synod on the Family, the Bishops' Conference of France was able to collect fifty thousand answers from groups and families. Prior to the 1983 Synod on Penance and Reconciliation, the Bishops of Chile gathered twenty-five thousand answers from parishes and small ecclesial communities. The very process of the consultation cannot but have d profound impact on the life of the Local Church when it is carried out at all levels. In order to facilitate a consultation at the grass roots level, the Lineamenta was published in seven languages, and bishops' conferences have translated the document into many more local idioms. It has become one of the most widely distributed texts. At the end of the three chapters of the Lineamenta some questions have been formulated. The answers to the questions, duly synthesized at the level of the bishops' conference of each nation and supplemented by any con-sideration which the bishops themselves might add, will then serve as the basis for the "working paper" which we hope to forward to the future par-ticipants sometime before the opening of the Synod. As of May 1, the cutoff date for the submissions from the particular churches and bishops' conferences, the Secretariat had received answers to the questionnaire from a grand total of three conferences of bishops! The The Worm Synod of Bishops / 813 Extraordinary Synod has certainly interfered with the preparation of the Synod on the Laity. But I also feel that Synods which follow too closeiy must allow sufficient time for a thorough preparation in a way that the whole People of God can feel involved. When I left my office some days ago, the submissions had begun to arrive in larger numbers. Within the next month a Task Force of experts--priests and laity-~will study all the responses and prepare an outline for the working paper (Instrumentum laboris). The fifteen cardinals and bishops, members of the Council of the Synod's General Secretariat, will discuss and finalize ~the outline at the next Council meet-ing, October 8-11. It is clear that the preparation, of the Synod constitutes a unique chal. lenge but also a sterling opportunity for lay men and women to undertake an assessment of their own involvement as baptized Christians in the Church and the world. For the whole Church, it will be an occasion to deepen the understanding of the true nature of the Church on the eve of the Third Millennium of her history. It is an occasion that the Church cannot afford to miss. For Catholic professional media people, the coming Synod offers the possibility to look at their own involvement in the Church and in society, and to assess the role they are called to play as Catholics and as communi-cators. But at the same time the whole People of God, pastors together with the laity, must reflect on the sacredness of the communic~ator's vocation, charisma and ministry. I hope that the following remarks may somewhat contribute to this process of reflection on your part. The Synod and the Media The surprise announcement of the Extraordinary Synod and the relatively short time allotted for its preparation attracted right from the beginning an unusual amount of comment and speculation. Within the Catholic Church, some seemed to fear that the Synod would be used to point the Church in a new direction, signaling a kind of retreat from the principles and attitudes of the Second Vatican Council. Some, on the other hand, saw the Synod as providing an opportunity to identify and correct what they judged to be the mistakes and abuses of the past twenty years. Most however--and this contrary to the impression given by the mass media in the months preceding the Synod--accepted the Synod gratefully as an oppor-tunity to deepen their understanding of the Council, while others, of the younger generation, hailed it as a welcome occasion to discover for the first time in a deeply personal way the message of Vatican II. In spite of the clearly stated intentions of the Holy Father, a debate con-tinued to rage well up to and into the time of the Synod itself. Taking into 814 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 account that some media people have difficulty not to inject into their report-ing their own perceptions and biases, the future debate at the Synod was presented erroneously as a battle between liberals and conservatives. Some seeds of misunderstanding concerning the aims of the Synod may also have been found in the polarization which exists today within many sectors of the Catholic community concerning the nature of the Church and her role. Not a few h~ve retained a position which has not moved beyond the First Vatican Council, and see the Church almost exclusively in structural, institu-tional terms. They have not given enough weight to the work of the Second Vatican Council. They have failed to recognize the essential truth that the Second Vatican C6uncil does not contradict the First Vatican Council, but complements it. The primacy and infallibility of the pope, defined at the First, are not contradicted but developed further at the Second Vatican Council by a fuller consideration of the role and ministry of the bishops. The Second Vatican Council lays emphasis, then, on the collegiality of bishops, on their respon-sibility for their own dioceses and for the good of the Universal Church, on the true nature of the diocese as the Church of God in each locality, and on the dignity and calling of all the baptized. Part of the Church's task in the past twenty years has been to try to find ways of expressing these complementary truths of the First and Second Vatican Councils in struc-tures and attitudes that do justice to both. Inevitably we have failures as well as successes to look back on. But some people have never accepted that that effort had to be made. Others have failed to see how the Church relates to the modern world. In the past, some Christians saw nothing but threat and danger in the world. According to those, the Church stood apart from the world and tended to oppose, reject and condemn it. The Second Vatican Council taught that the Church must be open to the world, its aspirations and struggles, and seek to provide it with a soul and a conscience. Because of those and similar factors, some Catholics came to view the Extraordinary Synod as a moment simply of crisis or conflict. They failed to understand that there is a very real sense in which the life and work of the Church, of a Council as well as of a Synod, can only be seen through the eyes of faith. Many, however, and towards the beginning of the Synod they were a majority, acknowledged the true intentions of the Holy Father. This progres-sive acceptance of the objective and of the true nature of the Extraordinary Synod was the result of many converging factors. The Holy Father himself spoke repeatedly, on the occasion of the Angelus prayer on Sundays, of the teaching and orientations of Vatican II. Bishops, bishops' conferences, The World Synod of Bishops / 815 theologians and lay people engaged, everywhere in a process of further reflec-tion about the Council. Each in their own sphere and field, they began to take stock of where they stood and what ,they had done to implement the Council. And so it could be said that even before the Synod convened its objectives had already been partially achieved through a greater awareness of the total richness of Vatican II for the Church of today. The media interest during the Extraordinary Synod was exceptional. Over and beyond the two hundred fifty journalists with permanent accreditation to the Holy See, some four hundred ten correspondents from thirty-four countries came to Rome for the sole purpose of covering the Synod event. The media of the whole world followed the 1985 Synod with more interest than any of the preceding Synods. Never had the Church attracted so much attention since the days of Vatican II, not even during the Conclaves of 1978, nor even on the day the Pope was shot. The large majority of media professionals.~faithfully reported the true content of the proceedings and of the concluding documents. Wherever I went after the Synod, I was truly amazed at seeing how most of the people that I met had a correct knowledge and understanding of the Synod. And yet, some publications still keep hammering away at the so-called secrecy of the synodal process, at the insufficient briefings or press releases, at the reluctance of Synod officials to talk, at the exclusion of the journalists from the Synod Hall during the meetings, and so on. I will not endeavor to give a deta!led account of all that was done before and during the Synod in order to improve the flow of information. I can only pledge that Archbishop Foley and myself are determined not to put aside any legitimate suggestion that will contribute to better and more objec5 tive information. Today, I only want to share some general observations regarding the relationship between the media and Synod, hoping that those of you who will cover the next Synod may be helped in their task. 1. A Synod of Bishops is an event that must totally and specifically be seen in the context of the Church. Information on ihe Synod has to do with the image of the Church. When one speaks of the image of the Church, there is more at stake than "image" understood in a public relations sense. Something far more fundamental is at stake, namely the self-understanding on the part of the Church of her very nature and mission. Upon that self-understanding or "image" so much else depends, and, in the case that con-cerns us here, on it depends the understanding of the nature and functioning of a Synod of Bishops. 2. The Synod of Bishops is not an ecumenical council where all the bishops of the world, together with the pope, exercise directly and collegially the supreme authority in the Church. The Synod, as set out in the Code 816 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 of Canon Law, is a limited group of bishops who have been chosen from different regions of the world, and who meet at stated times with the pope-- normally every third year. The scope of such meetings is threefold: to fos-ter closer unity between the Roman Pontiff and .the bishops; to assist the Roman Pontiff in safeguarding faith and morals and in strengthening ecclesiastical discipline; to consider questions concerning the Church's activity in the world (Can. 342). It is the role of the Synod of Bishops to discuss the questions on the agenda and to formulate suggestions, but not to decide the issues or to issue decrees, unless the Roman Pontiff in certain cases has endowed the Synod with deliberative power, and even in this event, it is the pope's prerogative to ratify the decision (Can. 343). It is most important to be clear on this point. 3. It is important to realize that the Synod of Bishops is directly under the authority of the pope, who convenes its assembly, ratifies the election of its members and appoints other members, determines the agenda, presides over the Synod and brings it to conclusion (Can. 344). The Synod, then, is not to be seen as a kind of constitutional "check and balance" to the authority of the pope; it is most certainly not an alternative or rival authority; it is one means by which the bishops of the world are given an opportunity to collaborate with the Holy Father for the good of the whole Church. The bishops gathered in Synod together with the pope are not called to promote their own priorities. In listening to and in exchanging with their brother bishops from all continents, they try to achieve a consensus regarding specific recommendations which they wish to propose to the pope. While aware of the needs of their own particular Churches, they must view all questions from the perspective of the universal good of the Church, and thus give equal consideration to the situations prevailing in their own dioceses or nations, as to those of the most distant regions and peoples. 4. The synodal process is unique and cannot be compared with any other process of group dynamics. In a Synod, bishops come together in function of the episcopal mission which they received through sacramental ordination. A Synod will therefore always be first and foremost an event with a spiritual dimension. All through the days of a Synod, bishops open their hearts and minds not only to their brother bishops but to the voice of the Holy Spirit. They allow their convictions to be shaped by human reasoning, by speak-ing out and by listening, by dialogue and discussion, but above all by their willingness to accept the message of Jesus Christ, while together they fathom its depth and relevance under the inspiration of the Spirit. It is therefore normal that at the end of a synodal process bishops approve proposals and express ideas which they did not hold at the beginning, or which differ from what had been stated by their own conference of bishops before the Synod. The World Synod of Bishops / 817 The process of discernment is so essential to the Synod that it should not be made dependent on the ebb and flow of public opinion. That process would be hampered or even distorted if bishops were concerned more with posturing for the media back home than with the collegial search for insight and consensus. 5. Religious editors and correspondents are by and large professionals in the true sense: they know their business and they have a thorough under-standing of the business of the Church. However, time and again some media send to the Synod correspondents who have earned their kudos on the polit-ical scene but are mere apprentices when it comes to Church activities and religious events. The editor of a serious national newspaper or wire service would not dream of sending one of the staff to cover the tennis open unless he or she had demonstrated a solid grip of the intricacies of the game. Nor would a network dispatch to the Pentagon a reporter who has never heard about military strategy, tactics and hardware. And yet, at every Synod we meet media people who see in the Church nothing more than just another political convention or parliamentary assembly where all results are produced through a majority vote. They do not know that the magic of the majority vote does not work when it comes to the formulation of theological principles or moral doctrine! It is not fair to the professional integrity of journalists when they are put in a position of having to relate or interpret events and statements that are totally outside the scope of their qualifications. Goodwill and hard work are not always substitutes for expertise, knowledge and com-petence. A lack of knowledge about religious matters or Church affairs may lead a correspondent to discard whatever news or issue cannot be reduced to "material" or "secular" or "political" categories. 6. A Synod is also a good place to observe trends that are developing in the Church. The last Synods have clearly shown how the presence of bishops from Third World countries is becoming stronger and more influ-ential. Their voices are listened to with greater interest, all the more so since the churches in Africa, Asia and Latin America often present a picture of dynamic growth and joyful celebration that we so sorely miss in many of the churches in the Western world. The Church is no longer Eurocentric or Occidental. Yet among the journalists and correspondents at the Synod, the overwhelming majority comes from Europe and North America, a situa-tion that accurately reflects the distribution of media power in today's interna-tional community. As a consequence, churches in the Third World are almost totally dependent on secondhand information from western sources, except in the case of the few diocesan bulletins that have the good fortune of receiv-ing reports from their own bishops, faithfully composed at the end of each week during a Synod. 818 / Review for Religious, November-Decetnber, 1986 The situation of the Third World churches merits our attention. It is important, therefore, to become more fully aware of the information needs of the younger churches. Media persons should ask themselves whether some-thing more could be done by their publication, by their diocese, at the level of the national Church, particularly of such entities as the Catholic Press Association. It should not be too difficult to come up with some truly imaginative projects, such as sponsoring a religious correspondent from a Third World Church to theupcoming Synod, or organizing internships for young'journalists from Africa or Asia or Latin America who could accom-pany a Western staff to the Synodl These have the means, and I am sure also the motivation, to find a solution to a problem that cannot be solved by them alone, but that will never be solved without their help. I conclude my remarks. Every Synod of Bishops deals with some aspect of the truth of the Church, and always with the entire truth of the Gospel message. The service which the communications media render is, to use an expression dear to John Paul II, "service of truth." In the realm of religious information, the medium cannot be separated from the message of the Lord. We live in an age of increased complexity, confusion and helplessness. In a time of great change and upheaval, there is always, in the Christian com-munity, the human urge to withdraw in a Church-under-siege mentality, to become obsessed with difficulties and dangers, or to suffer paralysis from too much analysis, In the Church we always have a fair share of prophets of doom, those that pull their hair and wring their hands in lament for the loss of faith in our society, while in their own lives they fail to witness to the truth of the Gospel message. Such prophets of doom deny the power of Pentecost and the working of the Spirit, and go forth to proclaim the Good News. In a very special way Catholic media people must be the bringers oftruth, the heralds of the Spirit and the witnesses of love of the Father as revealed in Christ Jesus. The streets and the squares of our cities and villages are teeming with people who wait to hear the truth of the Lord Jesus. We cannot fail them. Pilgrim and Penitent: Direction and Sacramental Reconciliation Shaun McCarty, S.T. Father McCarty writes in his covering letter: "It seems like ages since I've sent in any-thing . A stint on our general council broke the flow of writing." Actually his last article was in 1978, and was entitled: "Religious Roots: Knowing and Owning Our Own Story." He may be addressed at Holy Trinity Mission Seminary; 9001 New Hampshire Avenue; Silver Spring, Maryland 20903. The emergency call from my niece came early one Friday last winter. Her seven-year-old was balking at the prospect of first confession with her class several weeks hence. Reassurances seemed of little help. But Heather was willing to talk with her great-uncle. Faced with the formidable task of meeting with a seven-year-old (I'm used to dealing with grown-ups!), I agreed to come over after school that day for., what? Was it to be penitential catechesis? Spiritual direction? Pastoral counseling? Talk about intimidation! In my own mind I settled for just an avuncular chat! Some hours later, I found myself in peripatetic fashion sloshing through the melting snowbanks at a local park. In between kicking her patent leathers into every icy puddle along the way (and stopping to watch a freight train pass), Heather's predicament unfolded. (It's O.K. to write about this. She said I could tell.) Yes, she was clear about the meaning of the sacrament (she called it "reconciliation" !) and about the ritual involved. Yes, her God-image was in good shape (God was her "friend"). No, she didn't have trouble telling God she was sorry when she didn't behave properly (though she did have some trouble telling her brother!). No, she wasn't afraid of the priest (he was "real nice" with the kids). What her hesitation came down to was: (a) she didn't want to have to 819 820 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 tell all her sins to anyone (at least no one "outside the family!") and (b) she was afraid that, if she did, the priest would tell her parents (apparently they didn't count as part of "the family"!) After some reassurances that lots of grown-ups had difficulties with confession (she was surprised that grown-ups had to go too!), but many I knew found it very helpful. I asked if she thought she might give it a try. Her response: "I'11 have to think it over." By that time we were back to the house. It seemed right to end this avuncular chat at this point. There is a certain irony in what appears to be a simultaneous rise of interest in prayer in the United States~ and a sharp decline in the number of sacramental confessions by "grown-ups" in the last two decades.2 Nor is the latter decline limited to the United States. Church-wide concern was manifest at the Sixth General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops which addressed "Reconciliation and Penance in the Mission of the Church.''3 At the close of the synod, Pope John Paul II called for a "contemporary penitential catechesis." With personal prayer "up" and sacramental confessions "down," there has been correspondingly an increased search for spiritual directors and a decreased demand for confessors. Perhaps it would be mutually advantageous for both the sacramental ministry of reconciliation and the non-sacramental ministry of spiritual direction to see them in relationship to one another. That might be one step toward a contemporary catechesis, hopefully leading to a deepened understanding and appreciation of both ministries. It is my purpose here neither to analyze the reasons for this simultaneous rise and decline, nor to trace the historical development of either ministry to any great extent. Rather, I shall explore some distinctions'and similarities between the two; weigh the comparative merits of keeping them together or separate; and, finally, suggest ways in which the two ministries might be kept correlative and complementary in the lives of Christians called to be both pilgrims and penitents. My two basic premises are: (1) it is generally helpful and sometimes necessary to talk about one's experiences of both grace and sinfulness; (2) spiritual direction and the sacrament of penance are two distinct, but not necessarily separate forms of pastoral care providing forums for such sharing. The choice is not to be pilgrim or penitent; it is how, when and where to assume the modality of each. I use the term pilgrim in a symbolic sense to indicate a person's graced movement towards God which often leads to spiritual direction; I use the term penitent in a symbolic sense to indicate a person's movement away from sin which often leads to confession. To expand the symbols somewhat, a pilgrim might be described as one Direction and Sacramental Reconciliation / 821 who chooses to embark on an intentional faith-journey. The journey becomes intentional to the extent that a person makes a commitment to give serious and consistent attention to the quest for holiness of life as a disciple. Life becomes a faith-journey to the extent that one believes in and acts as though there is a transcendent dimension to all reality and belief in a God who con-tinues to provide for and to guide creatures as they move through life. There is an outer dimension to this journey as the pilgrim interacts with people, places and events that occur in providential sequence and become part of one's sacred geography. There is an inner dimension to this journey as the pilgrim follows a path that leads to deeper union with the divine. Above all, the pilgrim style is prayerful in that, it provides for uncluttered space for reflection so that the people, places and events of the journey can become revelatory of God's beauty, design and call. For help with this discerning prayer, pilgrims often seek out spiritual directors who act as companions, counselors, guides for the journey. ,. As a symbol, a penitent might be described as one involved in an ongoing process of conversion as a sinner loved by God who shows a spirit of true penitence in seeking forgiveness of sin and reconciliation within the community of believers. Conversion is a lifelong process of allowing the grace of God to unify and to free our divided hearts for perfect love. It is a movement away from self-absorption and towards self-surrender to God's designs. True penitence involves knowing and owning the reality of one's sins, being sorry for them and seeking forgiveness. This inner disposition of penitence becomes outwardly manifest in acknowledging one's sins not just to God, but to another who, as an agent of reconciliation, can enable the process of for-giveness. This mediation can happen in both sacramental and non-sacra-mental ways. Sacramentally it can occur in baptism, anointing and Eucharist as well as in penance. Non-sacramentally, it can happen in a variety of ways including healing services, therapeutic counseling or just a talk with a trusted confidant. There is a splendid example of this latter means in the Fifth of Alcoholics Anonymous' Twelve Steps which states: "Admitted to God, to ourselves, and. to another human being, the exact nature of our wrongs.''4 Prescinding from any canoncial necessity, A.A. attests to the efficacy of confessing to another human being: This practice of admitting one's defects to another person is, of course, very ancient. It has been validated in every century, and it characterizes the lives of all spiritually centered and truly religious people. But today religionis by no means the sole advocate of this saving principle. Psychi-atrists and psychologists point out the deep need every human being has for practical insight and knowledge of his own personality flaws and for a discussion of them with an understanding and trustworthy person. So 822 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 far as alcoholics are concerned, A.A. would go even further. Most of us would declare that without a fearless admission of our defects to another human being we could not stay sober. It seems plain that the grace of God will not enter to expel our destructive obsessions until we are willing to try this.5 Finally, a penitent seeks reconciliation within the community of believers. Since one's sins break or fray the bonds of relationship and tend to alienate or isolate the sinner, there is need to seek at-oneness with others who have been affected by one's dark deeds, words or omissions. And this applies to societal as well as personal sin. For help in seeking forgiveness and recon-ciliation, penitents often seek confessors and confidants with whom they can share their failings and seek absolution. Distinctions Between Spiritual Direction and the Sacrament of Penance Before drawing distinctions between the two ministries, a brief historical sketch of the roles of confessor and spiritual director may prove illuminating. In the tradition of the Eastern Church, there has always .been a clear distinction between confessor (parish priest) and spiritual director (starets). According to P. de R6gis: One confesses to his parish priest, and does so by way of an ecclesiastical obligation. He thus accomplishes a duty of community life. However, he goes to the starers solely with the pure desire for personal perfection . A second trait sets the starets completely apart from the confessor. He is chosen not because of his priestly character, but solely because of his charis-matic gifts which people think they see in him. This situation, without doubt, has always existed everywhere, and it was St. Francis de Sales who recommended that we choose our director carefully from "among ten thousand . ,,6 In the tradition of the Western Church, spiritual direction came to be increasingly combined with sacramental confession, a development that paved the way for the later "confession of devotion.''7 A significant influence in the development of Western sacramental prac-tice has been that of St. Alphonsus Ligouri who, in explaining the duties of a confessor, declares that one of the most important of these duties is that of "directing devout souls.''8 B. Haring reflects this strong Alphon-sian tradition of uniting the role of spiritual director with that of confessor: The confessor must also form the conscience of his penitent to an awareness of the obligation to grow in the love of God . The confesso~:'s role is to guide the penitent through the various pathways to holiness, lighting the way to Christ by helping him to develop a fuller prayer life.9 Others who highlight the liturgical role of the confessor tend to separate Direction and Sacramental Reconciliation / 823 more the ministries of spiritual director and confessor as, for example, L. Hamelin: Nor is the priest I encounter in this sacrament primarily a director of con-science. All the better if he is this, since such direction is a felicitous pro-longation of confession. But it is not essential to the sacrament of reconciliation that the confessor be a good director. The important thing is that he is charged with a mission, namely, the proclamation of the world's salvation. ~o Notwithstanding a variation of stress on the confessor's role as spiritual director, certain distinctions between the ministries of spiritual direction and the sacrament of reconciliation can be made on the basis of purpose (why), minister (who), content (what), process (how), time (when), place (where) and recipient (for whom). These are not meant to be sharp distinctions. Often what happens more properly in one forum occurs also in the other, but in a more secondary way. For example, healing can happen in direction; prayer does occur in the sacrament. Purpose (Why?): Spiritual direction aims primarily at enabling growth in a person's relationship with God and with others in Christ. In addition to proclaiming the world's salvation, the sacrament of penance aims primarily at mediating God's forgiveness and a person's reconciliation with God, self and others. As A. Von Speyer says, "To put the matter simply, we may say that the main function of the confessor is to set free from sin, that of the director to foster growth in divine love.''~ A further distinction should be made within the sacrament itself -- that of penance as a sacrament of necessity, following mortal sin and that of devotion, useful for spiritual progress. This classical distinction is repeated in the revised Rite of Penance (1973) in numbers six and seven, yet, as L. Orsy points out: Strangely enough., it seems that these two distinct operations of penance are lost from sight; the very term "reconciliation" is used indiscriminately for both, although in its proper sense it should be used for those who "have left the house of their Father," not for ttiose who have remained there.~2 Minister (Who?): The present complex practice of the Church is that confessors be ordained priests with faculties granted by an Ordinary for the administration of the sacrament to specified individuals or classes of people. Spiritual directors, on the other hand, do not hold formal office in the Church. Ideally, they are those charismatically gifted and who have the requisite knowledge, experience and skills to enable spiritual growth, and who are sought out by the community. Content (What?): The focus of content in spiritual direction is on the God-consciousness in a person's life and how that person is responding to 824 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 what is heard/seen/felt. The ministry of direction embraces the entire range of a person's religious identity. Key are the questions: Where is God and his offers of grace in the experiences of my everyday life? What are God's desires for me? What am I doing about it? In the sacrament of penance, the focus of content is on a person's need for the forgiveness of sin by an all-loving and merciful God. Key are the questions: What is the shape of my sinfulness for which I am sorry and seek forgiveness? Can I experience God as merciful and myself as a loved sinner? Process (How?): Confession takes place in the internal sacramental forum according to a prescribed rite and is governed by specific laws. In the revised Rite of Penance, there are three modes of sacramental celebration: two com-munal, one individual. For individual, auricular confession, there are pro-visions for praying with and for the penitent, sharing of texts from Sacred Scripture, listening compassionately to the confession of sins on behalf of God and the community, helping to discern the spiritual situation of the penitent, conveying the forgiveness of God by absolution, expressing the exigence of God's call to conversion by the imposition of an appropriate penance and possibly offering counsel as it seems fitting?3 Spiritual direction takes place in the internal, non-sacramental forum, does not follow any set ritual, noris it generally governed by specific legis-lation beyond the basic norms of moral conduct. Direction involves an inter-personal exchange helpful in discerning God's action in the life of the directee. It proceeds according to a style congenial to a particular director and direc-tee, though there are dynamics foundational to all healthy spiritual direction. Time (When?): Spiritual directors meet with directees on a regular basis determined by a working alliance/contract/covenant mutually agreed upon. Penitents are obliged to receive the sacrament of penance as soon as feasible following mortal sin. For confessions of devotion, frequency rather than regularity seems to be the norm suggested for current Church practice. Place (Where?): The ordinary setting for sacramental confession is either a confessional with screen between priest and pentitent, or a reconciliation room specifically appointed for a more personal and informal exchange between the two. (Heather calls the first "the old way" and the second "the new way"! She likes "the old way"!) There is no designated place for sessions of spiritual direction, though consideration should be given to a discreet setting that provides the requisite comfort and confidentiality for a fruitful exchange. Recipient (For whom?): The sacrament of penance is for Christians assuming the modality of penitent.s. Sp.iritual direction is for those assum-ing the modality of pilgrims. Direction and Sacramental Reconciliation Similarities Between the Two Ministries Just as there are differences I~etween spiritual direction and the sacrament of reconciliation, so are there similarities on the bases of purpose, minister, content, process and recipient. Purpose: Both are concerned with the spiritual condition of the pilgrim/ penitent; one stresses the turning away from sin, and the other, the turning towards God -- two sides of the same coin, conversion. Minister: Both confessor and spiritual director see their roles as instrumental, with the Holy Spirit as the principal agent of both forgiveness and spiritual growth. Their instrumentality is enhanced by many of the same qualities and dispositions like prayerfulness, a listening heart, fraternal exchange, respect for the freedom of the other, observance of confidentiality, Christlike love. Content: On the one hand, matters of spiritual growth often receive attention, especially in confessions of devotion. On the other hand, matters concerning forgiveness frequently are dealt with in spiritual direction. A report to the 1983 Synod of Bishops indicates several ways in which this happens: ". certain forms of spiritual direction are of the nature to redeem sins, as, for instance, the revision de vie, the capitulum culpae, a talk with one's spiritual director, confession to a starets in connection with monastic practice." 14 Process: Many of the activities and dynamics that enable effective com-munication with each other and fruitful mutual listening to the Spirit are the same, These would include: prayer with and for the pilgrim/penitent; sharing of texts from Sacred Scripture; affirming grace; challenging growth; occasional instruction; co-discerning the spiritual condition of the recipient; observing periods of silence; gestures communicating God's prodigal love manifested in Christ. Recipient: Pilgrim and penitent are modalities of the same person. Both modalities build on a foundational awareness and acceptance of being a sinner unconditionally loved by a graciousand merciful God. The qualities that dispose one for a more fruitful use of both spiritual direction and the sacrament of reconciliation are much the same: honesty; openness; trust; humility; gratitude and not least of all, the ability to keep one's gaze up and out towards God, and not down and in on one's feet! Together or Separate? There are some notable advantages in combining spiritual direction with the reception of the sacrament of reconciliation: (1) This situates spiritual direction within a liturgical/sacramental context, thus lending it a more visible ecclesial dimension. To the extent that sacramental celebration brings a 826 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 deepened and broadened sense of Church, one can experience more solidarity, support and nourishment in the twin tasks of reconciliation and spiritual growth. J. Sudbrack goes so far as to say: As Catholicism sees it, the most initmate transactions between man and God become authentically visible in the sacrament of the Church. Now as a matter of fact spiritual guidance has often taken place, historically, in the sacrament of penance. The modern practice of consulting the priest in confession is a revival of an old tradition. Even when confession and spiritual guidance cannot be one and the same., it is desirable that such guidance culminate in sacramental confession.~5 (2) Combining both can lessen the tendency to dichotomize one's growth in prayer from the moral attitudes and behaviors of one's life; (3) The for-giving, healing, reconciling action of the Holy Spirit is particularly evident in the revised Rite of Penance. It would seem particularly appropriate that these issues so inimical to spiritual growth -- alienation, isolation, selfish-ness, woundedness -- be dealt with in the same context as one's growth in the Spirit; (4) With keener discernment in "naming one's demons," in being specific about the shape of one's sinfulness, a person is likely to see more clearly those factors as they dull one's sensitivity to the Spirit; (5) Com-bining spiritual direction and confession can become an occasion when one can catch a fuller glimpse of self, both the sin-side and the grace-side. With such fuller perspective it would seem less likely that a person would fall prey, on the one hand, to a self-absorbing remorsefulness over sins or, on the other hand, to hubris (spiritual pride) over spiritual progress; (6) The penitent/pilgrim might see more clearly that God saves and sanctifies right in the midst of one's sinfulness, using even sinful acts and attitudes to lead to deeper union. G. Croft has expressed this well: Like the father with his prodigal son, God permitted Israel's waywardness of old in order that his chosen people might experience what it meant to be separated from their Father, and thus recognize afresh their need of him. So, too, our Lord's consciousness that he had come to save the lost sheep is reflected in knowledge of him as savior, particularly in the moment when the sinner experiences separation from God and the need of his love and mercy. This moment of grace and of conversion each one of us has experienced . not once but many times; so that even when we cry "out of the depths," our seeking is fraught with thanksgiving as we remember his past mercies.~6 (7) The sacrament is a humbling reminder that no one can grow a whit spiritually on his or her own initiative; (8) As both guilt and giftedness are brought to the same session, it can be seen more clearly that both need con-version, lest one become' self-absorbed in either guilt or gift; (9) Coming Direction and Sacramental Reconciliation / 827 at once as pilgrim and penitent can bring a more genuine realization of St. Paul's observation, ". power is at full stretch in weakness" (2 Co 12:9); (10) Finally, having the same person for confessor and director seems more conducive to the integration of these two valuable outside helps to holiness in that one person hears the whole story in the same context. Difficulties in Combining Roles On the side of the confessor/director, the most obvious difficulty is that this limits the ministry of spiritual direction presently to celibate, male clerics. With increasing demands on time and ministerial skills along with decreasing numbers of priests, it seems hardly likely that they could even begin to satisfy the rising need for spiritual directors. Besides, not all priests have the charisms for this ministry, not to mention the knowledge, skills and experience that facilitate the use of the gifts. Confessors who feel called to and who are willing to give a priority to spiritual direction for their penitents need adequate preparation for it. The commission's report to the 1983 Synod expressed this strongly: It is true that today the authentic form of private confession needs to be profoundly renewed in its spiritual aspects, and this in connection with the revised Ordo paenitentiae. Without such a renewal the Church will not be able to cope with the crisis of the sacrament of penance. For this a better spiritual and theological formation of priests is required, in order that they be able to deal with what is now demanded from confession, viz., the latter should contain more elements of spiritual direction and of fraternal .exchange. Under this aspect the so-called confession of devotion retains its importance.~7 On the side of the pilgrim/penitent, unless care is taken, the integrity of the two distinct ministries can become clouded. There may be some danger, too, that by locating spiritual direction within the context of confession, the project of spiritual growth could become too sin-oriented. At times, a person's sense of sinfulness ~can become so humiliating and/or immobilizing that open and honest exchange is flawed. Or the preoccupation with sin can so capture a penitent's consciousness that there is little room or energy for dealing with matters of spiritual growth. When Distinct But Not Separate In practice, the two can be kept distinct, but not necessarily separate. This is more likely to happen when both confessor/director and pilgrim/ penitent are clear about the distinction and habitually differentiate between the two ministries. If a choice is made to combine them, certain considera-tions may prove helpful: (1) Every session of spiritual direction need not 828 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 occur in combination with the sacrament of penance; (2)Especially appropriate times for combining them might be the seasons of Advent and Lent as well as periods of retreat; (3) In preparing beforehand, the very nature of one's examen can be such as to lead to a reflection not only on sinfulness, but also on graced invitations for further growth. For example, the Beatitudes might provide such a growth-oriented examen for pilgrim/ penitents. D. Barry makes this recommendation: The Beatitudes immediately recommend themselves as a blueprint for an updated, life-affirming ethical spirituality especially suited to the Christian mission of healing and reconciliation. Since they summarize the essence of Christlike living in a form that makes for easy recall, the Beatitudes offer a particularly rich source of meditation or conscience examination matter for the maturing Christian . They readily lead us to questions about our attitudes and conduct that get right to the heart of what contemporary discipleship is all about.~8 (4) If the penitent chooses to combine both, there should be some indica-tion of this intent at the beginning of the session. The penitential ritual might then be celebrated by itself at the beginning or the end of the time together or the penitent might indicate a desire to use the entire time to open before God his whole spiritual condition, graced and sinful, with a view to abso-lution at the end. As alluded to previously, one can develop a sensitivity to God speaking in the midst of one's sinfulness showing a side of self not otherwise open to awareness and conversion; (5) It would seem appropri-ate, on the occasion of confession/direction, that a pilgrim/penitent, in addi-tion to expressing sorrow for sins, also express gratitude for the graced times that have occurred. This, too, is with a view to keeping the more complete self in perspective as one considers his or her relationships to God, self and others. When Distinct and Separate Though the 1983 Synod of Bishops was primarily concerned with the sacrament of penance and, consequently, the role of the priest-director, the theological commission's report to the Synod did give recognition to extra-sacramental direction: That form of confession of sins, which is tied to spiritual direction, is a' very ancient treasure of the Church. On the one hand, it belongs to the very structure of the Church. On the other hand, as can be seen in the mg.nastic and spiritual traditions, it also has a place outside the sacrament. Both these data are factors in the development which is guided by the spiritual experience of the Church.~9 In the increasing likelihood that more spiritual directors will not be priests, Direction and Sacramental Reconciliation / 829 it would seem appropriate that the ministries be kept correlative and comple-mentary to the sacrament of penance. Some provisions that might help this happen are: (1) Alert and resourceful confessors might recommend qualified spiritual directors to those whose confessions indicate they would benefit from such further help; (2) Both directors and confessors might alert those who come to them to issues that might be dealt with better in the other forum. For example, a director may uncover some significant area that needs sacramental healing. Even if the person feels more comfortable in dealing with the issue in direction, there is the further possibility of celebrating the sacrament of reconciliation later; (3) The relationship between director and directee should be such that the latter will feel free to confide his or her sinful as well as graceful side with a director, lest either side get compart-mentalized; (4) Confessors and directors would do well to cultivate a mutual understanding of and respect for each other's ministries so as to see them-selves not in competition, but in collaboration with each other in their care of souls. Summary In the preceding pages, using the symbols of pilgrim and penitent, I have attempted to further such an understanding and appreciation of the ministries of spiritual direction and sacramental reconciliation by indicating some dis-tinctions and similarities between the two; by weighing the comparative merits and deficits of keeping them together or separate; and, finally, by suggesting some ways in which they might be kept correlative and complementary in the lives of Christians who are called to be both pilgrims and penitents. I close with some verses from the heart of one such pilgrim/penitent who has been on the journey somewhat longer than Heather (by about ninety years)! They are entitled, "Confessor-Director": And then above the dark horizon of my night There beamed a star that bathed my soul with light And beckoned me upon my pilgrim way. My spirit soared to meet the guiding flame That traced a path illuminated by His name And led me on to greet the dawning day! The Day that dawns to span Eternity. P.S. By the way, Heather did join the class for the sacrament of reconcilia- 83!1 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 tion! It seems that Father offered them the option of sitting in his lap. I forgot to ask if she opted for the "new" way! NOTES ~K.A. Briggs, "America's Return to Prayer," New Yoi'k Times Magazine (November 18, 1984), pp. 107-18. 2T.P. Sweetser~ "What Ever Happened to Confession?" New Catholic World (January-February, 1964), pp. 31-2. 3j. Ratzinger, "The Necessity for Personal Confession," Origins 13 (October 20, 1983), pp. 331-2. 4Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions (New York: Alcoholics Anonymous World Services, Inc., 1953), pp. 56ff. 51bid, pp. 57-8. 6p. de R6gis, "Confession and Spiritual Direction in the Oriental Church," The Sacrament of Penance, C. de Vaux St. Cyr et al. (Paramus, N.J.: Paulist, 1966), p. 94. 7H.B. Meyer, "Confession or Spiritual Direction?" Making Sense of Confession, 0. Betz, ed., (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1968), p. 128. 8St. Alphonsus Ligouri, Praxis confessarii, nn. 121-27. 9B. Haring, Shalom: Peace (New York: Farrar, Straus & Giraux, 1967), p. 140. ~°L. Hamelin, Reconciliation in the Church, M.J. O'Connell, trans. (Coliegeville: Liturgical Press, 1980). ~tA Von Speyer, Confession (New York: Herder and Herder), p. 214. ~2L. Orsy, The Evolving Church and the Sacrament of Penance (Denville, N.J.: Dimension, 1978). ~3See M. Hellwig, Sign of Reconciliation (Wilmington: M. Glazier, 1982), especially Chapter VIII which treats the role of the confessor. ~41nternational Theological Commission Report to 1983 Synod of Bishops, Penance and Reconciliation, Origins (January 12, 1984), p. 521. ~sj. Sudbrack, Spiritual Guidance (Paulist, 1983), pp. 24-5. ~6G. Croft, "The Sinner Finds God," The Way (January, 1968), pp. 34-40. ~TReport to 1983 Synod, supra, p. 522. ~SD. Barry, Ministry of Reconciliation (New York: Alba House, 1974), p. 111. ~9Report to 1983 Synod, supra, p. 520. Freed for Life in the Spirit -- Together Romans 12:1-8: A Meditation Daniel J. Harrington, S.J. This biblical meditation on Christian life and community was presented at the assembly of the Jesuit New England Province on June 12, 1986. Father Harrington is professor of New Testament at the Weston School of Theology; 3 Phillips Place; Cambridge, Massachusetts 02138. In an extraordinary act of boldness, Paul addressed at great length the Chris-tians of a church that he had not founded. He was bas.ically asking for a room in which to stay before moving on in his mission to Spain. Even before that, he had to bring the proceeds of the collection to J~rusalem, and perhaps also explain his activities to the Christian leaders there. Meanwhile he was hearing reports about frictions within the Roman community, chiefly with regard to divisions between Gentile Christians and Jewish Christians. With all these situations in mind, Paul wrote what has come to be recog-nized as his theological masterpiece -- his letter to the Romans. I find an uncanny parallel between the dynamics, of Romans and of St. Ignatius' Spiritual Exercises. Paul first establishes the need of all persons -- Gentiles and. Jews alike -- for something or someone beyond themselves if they are to find right relationship with God. Then he roots the person of Jesus and his followers in the tradition of salvation history reaching back to Abraham. Next he reflects on the difference that Jesus has made by freeing us from sin, death and the Law, and by freeing us for life in the Holy Spirit. These first eight chapters laid the foundations for reflection on the mystery of Israel in chapters 9-11, and for addressing problems within the Roman com-munity in chapters 12-16. Romans 12:1-8 presents Paul's vision of life within the Christian com- 831 832 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 munity. That life is first and foremost a response to the difference that Jesus has made. That life is communal, the task of persons freed from sin, death and the Law as potential masters of their lives, and freed for life under the prompting of the Holy Spirit. That life takes a variety of forms with the clear recognition that all the tasks undertaken within the Christian com-munity are important. "Freed for life in the Spirit -- together" -- that was Paul's understanding of Christian life. Perhaps he can help us as we try to give shape to our life as religious together. A Response Paul begins his exhortation in this way: I appeal to you, brothers, through the mercies of God to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God, your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this age but be transformed by renewal of mind so that you may discern what is God's will, what is good and pleasing and perfect (vv. 1-2). With these words, Paul provides us with a way of understanding our-selves and our brothers and sisters in Christ. Calling upon familiar terms associated with sacrifice and temple worship, Paul insists that genuine worship of God takes place not merely in a designated place at a set time but rather in all that we do and whenever we do it. Everyday life is the "place" in which the Father of Jesus Christ is worshipped. The sacrifice that we offer to God is ourselves, no more and no less. In this framework, when we Christians do come together in a designated place at a set time, we are simply making concrete what happens throughout our 'lives. All our life is an act of worship, a time for praise and thanksgiving, a sacrifice holy and pleasing to God. Our Christian lives can be a continuing act of worship precisely because of the difference that Jesus Christ has made. Even though the kingdom of God, or the age to come, is not yet here in its fullness, we believe that in some way it has been inaugurated in Christ. Therefore we need not be con-formed to what Paul calls "this age"; that is, we need not be dominated by sin, death and the Law. Christ has freed us to live in the age to come, which he has already begun. And because Christ has freed us and invited us to share in the inaugurated kingdom, we can discern God's will. In Paul's perspective, discernment is not simply clear thinking coming to closure. Rather discernment has been made possible by what God has done for us in Christ. Discernment is our way of living in the inaugurated kingdom, in the age to come. Discernment is the way in which we shape our response to the freedom won for us by Christ. Freed for Life in the Spirit / 833 Christian life as continued worship, as living in the kingdom, as dis-cernment in response to Christ's gift of freedom -- these are the chief ele-ments in Paul's understanding of Christian life. Paul's exhortation continues: For by the grace that has been given to me I say to everyone among you not to think more highly than he ought to think but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith God has assigned to him (v. 3). Paul speaks sternly here. He wants the Christians at Rome to be more modest and realistic. He wants them to put an end to factionalism and com-petitiveness. He wants to deflate their pretensions. Nevertheless, Paul's way of deflating the Romans' pretensions is amazingly creative and positive. He does not downgrade them or criticize their abilities. Instead, he reminds them about the real source of their powers and indeed about the real source of his own power. In appealing to his own apostolic authority, Paul describes it as "the grace that has been given to me." In urging a more sober estimation of their own intellectual power, Paul tells the Romans to recall that whatever spiritual gifts they have were portioned out to them by God. So in the process of calling to task the Roman Christians, Paul insists on the gift that gives shape to all of Christian life. The fundamental gift of God is Jesus Christ. The ways in which that fundamerital gift is made concrete are themselves gifts. Thus the Christian community is the gathering of gifted persons, who all bear witness to God's most basic gift in Jesus Christ. On the one hand, Paul's doctrine of grace encourages humility, does a~ay with factionalism and competitiveness, and deflates pretensions. On the other hand, Paul's doctrine of grace underlines the "gift" character of Christian life, allows us to look on one another as gifted persons, and helps us to see our lives together as reflections of God's fundamental gift of Christ. No one can boast, precisely because all is gift. Life Together Paul continues: For as in one body we have many members, and all the members do not have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ, members each one of the others (vv. 4-5). What coach, what director of a play, what overseer of a trip has not used the body analogy in order to urge greater cooperation among individuals? People of Paul's time were surely familiar with this analogy from a famous fable about the city as a body recorded by Livy. Thus our 834 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 own term, the "body politic." Indeed, there is no need to search for prece-dents or ancient parallels since the analogy is so easy. We all have bodies. Our bodies have many parts. When all the parts work together, each per-forming its proper function, we can accomplish our goal. When one part hurts or fails to function, the whole body suffers. The body analogy is so obvious that we could pass over it quickly if it were not for the small qualifying phrase "in Christ." We are one body in Christ. That is an enormously important qualification. What makes us a body of Christians is not a desire to win a game; or put on a play, or go on a trip: Christ makes us into a body. We become the body of Christ. The life that runs through us all, the spirit that animates us, the force that enlivens us is Christ. Therefore, as we live out our Christian lives as religious, we do so as members of the body of Christ.We are conscious that God has called us to this form of Christian life with other members of Christ's body. We have been called together as a way of responding to God's gift to us. As we work side by side, what we should try to see first and foremost is the life of Christ expressing itself in one another. Service Having laid his foundations about the nature of Christian life and having insisted on Christ as the 'basis of our communal life, Paul now considers the proper response to God's gift of freedom. For what have we been freed? We have been freed for service. In one Of the most tightly packed and meaningful sentences in the entire Pauline co~'pus, Paul says: "Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them . . ." (v, 6a). This dense sentence summarizes Paul's approach to the place of service iri Christian life. In addressing the Romans, he assumes that all Christians are gifted ("having gifts"). The word for "gifts" here is charismata, the singular of which is charisma. But Paul does not use the word charisma as we do in our own day when we talk about charismatic politicians or movie actors -- those who have that certain undefinable something, that magic that makes them attractive to us, whose power comes from some unknown source. Paul knows the source of the Christian gifts. It is the Holy Spirit. Paul knows why Christians can do what they do. It is through the Holy Spirit. Paul knows why Christians do what they do. It is to build up the body of Christ. These gifts (charismata) are according to the grace (charis) given to us, By making this qualification; Paul reminds us that charisms flow from the fundamental grace, which is Christ. Charisms make concrete the grace of Christ. They are the means by which the grace of Christ expresses itself Freed for Life in the SpMt / 835 in our place and in our ~ime. These gifts differ. What sounds like an obvious statement on the logical level is not so easy to recognize in practice. Just as in a body the different members have different functions, so in the body of Christ there is astonishing variety.But sometimes variety is intimidating or frightening, and we want to shape others according to our own conceptions of what is good for them. Paul says no to all such attempts at imposing uniformity on the body of Christ. Variety must be respected not because it is refreshing or interesting but .because it witnesses to the marvelous power of God that can work through so many different instruments. "Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us . " All of us are gifted. Our gifts are rooted in God's fundamental gift to us. Our gifts differ. The next and, indeed, necessary step is to use our gifts in service. God's gifts are not our personal possessions to be polished and stored away. They are not occasions for pride or boasting. God's gifts are to be used in free response to Christ our Lord~ Unlike most people today who understand freedom as the absence of any restraint upon them, Paul looked upon freedom as service under the only master worth serving. Whereas for many of our contemporaries "free-dom's just another word for nothing left to lose," for Paul freedom meant putting aside false masters for the sake of serving God and his people. Paul gives us some examples of service: ¯ . . if prophecy, according to the proportion of faith; if service, in service; he who teaches, in teaching; he who exhorts, in exhortation; he who shares, in simplicity; he who presides, in zeal; he who is merciful, cheerfulness (vv. 6-8). The list illustrates concrete ways in which God's gifts are made manifest. The'list includes prophecy, service (diakonia), teaching, exhortation, sharing, presiding or administration, and acts of mercy. I will not comrfient on each of these gifts.Nor do I suggest that we can bE satisfied with merely transferring them into the twentieth century. Nevertheless, the list is instructive fo? us on several counts. The emphasis is on activities rather than offices or the persons who hold the offices. Also, there is no discernible hierarchy in the list, unlike 1 Corinthians 12. All the activities are important. Moreover, there is a stress on the spirit in which the activities are carried out -- moving backward on the list, in cheerfulness, in zeal, in simplicity, and so forth. Paul reminds us that actions are more important than status or office, that all the charisms are significant and help toward the health of the body, and that much depends on the attitudes with which we carry out our activities. Prayer of Being: Intimacy at the Center David Hassel, S.J. ,, In this article Father Hassel continues his study of prayer and intimacy. The work he has done on this subject, much of which has appeared in our pages, is being gathered into a book entitled Dark Intimacy; Hope for Those in Difficult Prayer published in the near future by Paulist Press. Presbntly, Father Hassel, as Research Professor, is devoting him-self fully to writing, primarily in the area of philosophy. He may be addressed at Loyola University of Chicago; 6525 N. Sheridan Road; Chicago, Illinois, 60626. People lose heart when God is drawing them into prayer of being, prayer of simple presence. Here is where people feel most useless to God and to themselves, most empty and unworthy of God. For this prayer is quite silent, ord!narily dry, sometimes hollow, angry-fearsome, briefly joyful, and lacking many former certitudes. If ever a praying person feels far from intimacy with God, it is at this critical growth-point of developing union with God. Here, then, such a person needs reassurance against diffidence. Perhaps assurance will be gained if this prayer of being is recognizably described within one's prayer experience, if its nature is revealed in Scrip-ture, if the disciplining action of this prayer can be sketched accurately, and if the way of living in this prayer can be clearly depicted. All these "ifs" form the strategy of this article. How to Recognize Prayer of Being Prayer of being, lying hidden underneath, at least three layers of expe-rience, has paradoxical features. Probably this is because the depth at which prayer of being occurs makes it describable only in limit-statements. The latter plot out the extreme boundaries of any mysterious experience; 836 Prayer of Being / 837 they do not offer a clear X-ray picture of its inner structure. For example, the first feature of thisprayer of being is its silence. It is gestureless, wordless. When one prays, there seems tobe no response, no sense of God's even hearing one's attempts to reach him. The silver arrows of one's petitions seem to hit the tabernacle and to fall shattered at its base. Praying becomes like the mocking echo of one's own voice when. shouting across.a river to a great bluff on the other side. At the same time, paradoxi-cally, the prayer may be noisy with distractions. One's mind feels like a huge warehouse at which gigantic "semi's" are unloading fresh cargoes of distractions on the warehouse dock and forklift trucks are delivering the boxes of distractions to the center of one's attention. Naturally, such distractedness is accompanied by dryness, the second characteristic of prayer of being. One feels no ready satisfaction, no lifts of the heart with joy. One gains no splendid insights to light up one's path; not even the tired insights of past years arise to illuminate the desert darkness. There is little or no heartfelt attraction for Christ, for Gospel reading, or for generous actions; there is only a certain blankness of mind and a wrinkled leathery feeling in the heart. Yet at the same time, after one has weathered the time given to this prayer (e.g., early in the morning) and started towards breakfast, one experiences a quiet worthwhileness and even a restored strength for the day's duties. These qualities are palpably missing when one omits this prayer; instead, one knows an indefinable seine Of loss and a certain lethargic heaviness. Of course, such experience seems somewhat hollow, the third feature of the prayer of being. The absence of satisfaction felt inside oneself is matched in one's outer activities. Hobbies, entertainment, daily work, favorite diversions--all seem strictly routine, not attractive, and rather superficial as though the silence and dryness of prayer had seeped into one's more exterior doings. Yet in the prayer of being itself and in these activities, there is a remote sense of fullness, as though through the deepest caverns of one's praying/working self there runs a great underground river. This remote fullness expresses itself indirectly when the praying person finds himself or herself saying: "Where else would I want to be than here? Nowhere else. What else would I rather be doing? Nothing else." What is this peculiar sense of rightness amid silence, dryness, and hollowness? Because the person now doing the prayer of being has already lived faithfully with the Lord not a few years, there is the fear that he or she is backsliding, is caught in a web of self-delusion. And yet the person may also feel deep anger towards God at the "unfairness of it all." This is the fourth feature of theprayer of being. For the individual begins to question: "What am I doing wrong that the Lord should be so distant?" And then 838 / Review for Religio'us, November-December, 1986 begins some rummaging around in the past for a disastrously wrong deci-sion, a fatal flaw of character, a refused grace of strategic importance. For example, a retreatant was asking these questions of himself from the fifth to the nineteenth day of his. Ignatian thirty-day retreat and came upon this answer on the nineteenth day: "This retreat is a fraud; your life leading up to this retreat has been equally fraudulent; in fact, you've been embezzling yourself from adolescence till now." On recounting this dazzling insight to his director, the latter said to him: ''Be sure to keep up this type of question-ing. And don't for a moment trust yourself, others, me, or God." This response shocked the retreatant into recognizing both the superficial evi-dence that provoked the questioning and the serenity he experienced deep at the center of his being--paradox of paradoxes. Even as he felt whirled about in swirls of confusion, he also knew that in the depths of his being he was resting at home with the Lord in the center of the universe. He felt like the weather-pilot who had been fighting a bucking plane through the tornado and now has suddenly broken into its quiet eye. But where there is fear, there is often also an accompanying anger. Frustrated with my work, my family, my own self, and embarrassed by my anger at God for all this frustration, I am restless, eager to break out of this suffocating cocoon of self. 'Repulsed by, my negative mood, by the stark vision of my sins .and limitations, by my own littleness compared to God's greatness, I experience a profound, but false sense of guilt. For I have forgotten that one gets most deeply angry only with those one loves best and that to be angry with God is to take seriously his goodness and his providence. Anger with a friend (even with God) can be a secret compliment. ~ Thus the angry Jeremiah felt free to call God to his face "a treacherous brook" (Jr 15:18) and to accuse the Lord of duping him (Jr 20:12). For this reason guilt at my anger is a false guilt, which acts like a suit of armor so that I cannot feel God's touch. Even if I did feel his touch I would deny it, because "what god would want to deal with me." Yet eventually, as a fearful, angry person who is doing the prayer of being, I find myself repeating the words of the fiercely angry prophet in the Book of Lamenta-tions: "The favors of the Lord are not exhausted, his mercies are not spent. They are renewed each morning, so great is his faithfulness" (3:22-23). Amid all this confusion, there are occasional leaps of the heart at God's dim presence. They are very brief and widely spaced, with only.a rare moment when he seems to take over completely. Prayer of being, then, is not one long, monotone bore, A person can, however, overlook these quick touches of the Lord. Once a directee confessed: "If I had not kept a daily diary of this dry prayer Prayer of Being / 839 of mine, I would have complained that God was completely absent these past fifty days. But when I read back, I found four or five spots where the Lord made his presence felt for a few moments." Of course, this informa-tion makes quite a difference not only to the directee but also to the director. Soprayer of being is not a state of prayerlessness; its fifth feature is the Lord's quiet signaling of his companionship in our fears and anger. There is, nevertheless, in this prayer of being a gradual loss of youthful certainties. This constitutes the sixth characteristic of the prayer of being. One feels quite uncertain about so many things: political issues, the nature of holiness, the future of the United States, theological schools of thought, personality theories, economic cure-alls, long-standing family arguments, the proper raising and education of one's children, and so on. This deep wondering issues not so much from tired cynicisms as from a new sens( of mystery. Too often the failure of simple solutions has proved the myste-rious complexity of a person or of a situation, or of some vast plan of social improvement. Sometimes the praying person mistakes the deep wondering at such failures fora faith-loss---especially when a glance at the vine of one's apostolate seemingly reveals only shrunken grapes. A compelling temptation can then arise to find new works to do, new people to consult, new plans to promote. There can be even tears at this point though one is not sure why they come frustration, hope, self-pity, consolation? The most acute sufferings occur when the praying person feels seating doubt about whether he or she can love anyone fully, or be lovable to anyone else. And yet as the praying person descends deep into the self without knowing what lies ahead, there is no desire to go back up, even though the darkness seems to be heavier, for one experiences a strange contentment with the, situation--because one feels loved intimately. Does Prayer of Being Deny Intimacy? These six characteristics of prayer of being: silence, dryness, hollow-ness, fearsome anger, rare inbursts of joy, and loss of certainties would seem almost to deny the presence of any intimacy in this prayer. But the opposite is true. First of all, only by going through the various stages of prayer which require deep intimacy (one-to-one prayer, forgiveness, sinful-ness, apostolic more, and powerlessness) can one enter into the prayer of being. To declare that these stages of intimacy lead only to non-intimacy is to join the absurdist philosophers in stating that the human person is a living contradiction for self-destruction. In fact, the state of dryness charac-teristic of prayer of being is normal to all prayer, just as it is the normal 840 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 condition of any human relationship. It is the state lying between the extremes of consolation and desolation, just as the dryness in marriage or in work is the normal feeling between the ecstacy of love or of high success and the despair of lost love or bankrupt business. Dryness in prayer is the balanced state for enduring well everyday living. It is a secret strengthening joy; it is that sustaining intimacy which arises out of suffering well the everyday routines of prayer and life. Indeed, dryness is very instructive for the praying person. It forces the one who prays to distinguish the various levels of human experience, to enter their depths, to learn, more accurately what passive prayer is, and finally to develop a faithfulness to God which is more independent of consolations or desolations, of elations or depressions, and of subjectively estimated successes and failures. Let us glance at the levels of human experience so as to better under-stand dryness in prayer. There is, first, a superficial level, which consists of pleasures and pains present to our awareness like the constant purr of an air conditioner, the heavy perfume of lilacs, the irritation of a skin rash or a raspy voice, the comforting warmth of a May.sun or the soft touch 9f an April breeze and shower. The first level, then, is a constant stream of sensual impressions, the context of life. Underneath this is a second level of deeper experiences, such as the constant ache of neuralgia, or the deep pleasure of loving interchange, or the delight of solving a perplexing business problem, or the lyric leap of an evening at the symphony, or the exuberant planning for the first baby, or the panic fear of a flashing knife. This second level is more meaningful, and it lends depth to the first one. But underlying both these levels is a still more profound set of expe-riences which make up the third level. It is on this level that one experiences the enervating worry at not having a job, the satisfaction of affectionate family living, the sorrow of watching the alcoholic spouse struggle for respectability, the fulfillment of a project successfully completed which demanded ten years of one's life, the sense of worthwhileness in the costly sacrifice for one's beloved. At this third level, a person's deepest hopes are raised or dashed, a person's finest joys are brought into full bloom, a person's crushing sorrows test the stamina of one's very being. Believe it or not, there is also a fourth level, which is the dynamic basis of the three higher levels of experience. Although the top three levels are directly knowable to the subject, this fourth level is discovered and known' only indirectly, that is, only in contrast with the other three. Thus, a woman can be in good health on the first level, can enjoy a full family life on the second level, can see her role in life as richly meaningful on the third Prayer of Being / 841 level, and yet be restless and pain-filled on the fourth level. If it were not for this dramatic contrast with the top three levels, .she could not possibly come to know the fourth level as part of her experience. This revealing contrast can also occur in the opposite manner. A man may be suffering from a fourteen-day cold on the first level, may feel misunderstood by the family on the second level, experience sharp doubt on the third level about his ability to handle his new and complicated position in the corporation--and yet be peaceful at the fourth level, under-neath the disturbing events of the top three. He could well find himself asking: "What's wrong with me? I should feel depressed and desolate, but I don't. Am I becoming schizoid? Or have I lost interest in my family and my career?" But this startling contrast lets him know, if he reflects on it, that there is a fourth level of his experience, one known only by contrast with the upper three levels. This long explanation is meant to lead to the conclusion that great dryness of prayer at the top three levels of experience can be accompanied by a serene peace and sense of personal worthwhileness lurking underneath at the fourth level. Such a discovery lights up prayer of being, since such prayer happens at this fourth level where one comes into contact with one's being, one's fullest identity. Here, too, is the best rendezvous-point for meeting God. As any prayer which leaves us feeling powerless indicates: God is the one doing the praying in us; and he starts it at the fourth level, then lets it percolate up through the other three levels. In prayer of being, however, God may shut off this percolation into the top three levels. When this happens, one can find God only indirectly, through the contrast of the upper three levels with the fourth-level. At this point the praying person finally recognizes that he or she is totally at the mercy of God's initiative. Again, he or she more sharply appreciates the need to be more pa~ssive under God's action. Most of us, nonetheless, fight hard to be the active senior partner in prayer, and so we struggle mightily On the top three levels to keep control. At the first level we may try new vocal prayers, new Zen techniques, new spiritual reading books; at the second level we may try to pump up old emotions we once felt and duly inscribe in our spiritual diaries, or we may review magnificent panoramic insights of our personal salvation history. On the third level, we may investigate our motivations for being good family people, for becoming career enthusiasts, for entering the life of religious vows, for being unmarried or married, for being lazy or aggres-sive, for being liberal or conservative, and so on. In other words, to avoid the passivity of prayer, we strain to climb the sheer glass mountain of mystery by our fingernails. Inevitably we end up at 842 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 the bottom of the mountain, looking at our bloody hands. Slowly it dawns on us that maybe only God can lift us to the top of the glass mountain, that we have to rest passive in his hands as he lifts us gently and gladly, that only after we admit our total dependence on him, will he lift us to the top of the mountain. We learn, then, what the passivity of prayer is: letting God do the praying in and through our four levels of experience, while we simply furnish ourselves--and some basic conditions for prayer, e.g., time carefully set aside, some reading of Scripture and other spiritual works, a reverent body-position, a readiness to go in prayer wherever the Lord leads, and so on. These conditions God can use or not use as he sees fit. There is a third result of recognizing thi.s fourth level: because of dry7 ness at the upper three levels, one develops a faithfulness to God which is more independent of consolations or. desolations, of elations or depres-sions; one becomes aware of the constant presence of God in this fourth level. There, likea great underground river, he quietly nourishes all one's activities on the top three levels, rendering the praying person serene in the sure direction of the fiver, and letting the person know that he or she is never alone, never far from the center of the universe. This quiet reas-surance can occur in the midst of the most joyful, or the most sorrowful happenings on the upper three levels, and thus it nurtures the wholesome independence of the praying person. So it is no surprise that the person finds the edge taken off deep fears, fierce angers dampened down, and pestering doubts stilled. Thusprayer of being is never a lonely experience, since it is a constant, indirect awareness of God at one's deepest level of experience, at the center of one's being. In this way, divine being speaks within the individual person's being. Paradoxically, such communion is wordless at this silent depth. It is a simple presence to each other like that between long-married partners who have great mutual devotion to each other. In this one-to-one awareness, God and the praying person have, by a kind of osmosis, an underlying, indirect appreciation of each other rather than a direct face-to-face meeting as in the beatific vision. Their co-pres.ence is more by being than by insightful action or by tangible feeling. It is as though the praying person reaches behind his or her back to touch God. For each affects the other by pure presence of being, as happens when people are aware of each other even though separated by oceans and mountain ranges. Because this presence is so deep and subtle, it takes long years and much experience for the average praying person to recognize its potential for intimacy. Such mutual awareness is a beingrfor-the-other. This has a rema~:kable effect on the human partner. He or she finds greater empathy for other human beings at a deep level of experience, namely, that of being, of Prayer of Being / 843 radical person-hood. It is this which enables the praying person to enter more profoundly into the routinized lives of God's marginal people, to feel more deeply the emptiness of their sometimes meaningless lives, and the gestureless silence of their listless suffering. As a result the person in prayer of being becomes more ready to sacrifice, more apostolic in intent, in order to fulfill the needs of the Lord's anawim. Perhaps this is the cosmic com-passion of which Christ speaks: "Love your enemies, pray for your persecu-tors. This will prove that you are sons of your heavenly Father, for his sun rises on the bad and the good, he rains on the just and the unjust. In a word, you must be made perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect" (Mt 5:44-48). Because this prayer of being issues in close union not only with God but also with his marginal people, it leads to a dynamic compenetration of the two great commandments: to love God is to love neighbor and vice vers~a. In this way, prayer of being becomes like the background music permeating my consciousness as I wait for a client or work over financial accounts or have my teeth cleaned or do housework and gardening. It is a quiet, strengthening, enlivening presence which I may even take for granted until its temporary shutoff leaves me cold and bereft. Perhaps better, it is like a long-term friendship highly prized yet often taken for granted because it has always been the~:e to guide, envigorate, and challenge me, and, finally, to assure me of a happy future in serving others. Thus prayer of being, if it is anything, is a new depth of intimacy not only with God and self but also with all other human beings. Prayer of Being in Scripture Prayer of being is profoundly embedded in Scripture. Among the multiple translations of 'the divine name Yahweh in the Old Testament is: "he-who-is-for-others." Since Yahweh is the continuing creator and perdur-ing animator of all things, he clearly lives up to his name. He literally brings all things into being out of nothingness and then remains in them to pulse their existence constantly lest they sink back into nothingness. He is being for all other beings. It is no wonder, then, that in theprayer of being, the praying person becomes so sensitive to nothingness or emptiness at the same time as he or she notes the fullness of being around and in him or her. Yahweh, nonetheless, is not satisfied with this degree of intimacy within all created beings. Out of all the nations, he selects the weakest, that motley throng of mixed breeds from Egypt called the Israelites, and begins to form them into his people. To do this, he makes a covenant with them; they are to be his people and he, their God. Actually, it later becomes a marriage covenant since he comes to consider the Hebrew nation his bride. To 844 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 demonstrate this, he even tells Hosea, who had unfortunately married a woman turned prostitute, to remarry his bride. In this way is symbolized Yahweh's remarriage with his adulterous Israelite people, and so drama-tized the intimate relationship which Yahweh wants with the Hebrew peo-ple-- a relationshipfar beyond, yet built out of, the intimate relationship of creator and creature in being. Thus any turning of the Hebrew people to another or false God is considered nothing less than adultery--to be pun-ished, for example, by the great exile of 587 B.C. Such being-for-others (Yahweh himself) makes understandable why the second person of the Trinity would be sent into the womb of Mary to become the Jesus of history. The Christ intimately immerses himself in the being and life of his Jewish family, his town of Nazareth, and his country of Palestine. Jesus becomes. Jewish from the soles of his feet to the top of his head. Thus he literally is the wedding covenant of Yahweh with the Hebrew people; his very flesh and all his historical actions are divine and human, Godly and Jewish, inextricably. In this way, the God-man can enter into and share our gestureless, wordless silence in the hidden life of Nazareth, our dryness from routinized lives in his daily handyman tasks, our felt hollowness from self-emptying sacrifices for those dear to us (Ph 5:2-7), our fears ("My soul is troubled now, yet what should I say-- Father, save me from this hour?" [Jn 12:27]), and our angry frustrations ("What an unbelieving and perverse lot you are! How long must I remain with you? How long can I endure you?'[Lk 9:41]). He also shares our rare leaps of joy ("At that moment Jesus rejoiced in the Holy Spirit"ILk 9:12]), and our hollowness felt at the center of our beings (Jesus sleeping the sleep of exhaustion in the storm-tossed boat). He knew all the ingredients of being human; he, too, did theprayer of being in relation,to the Father. In his bones and nervous system Jesus felt his being-for-others at the three upper levels of his experience. This being-for-others is best seen, however, in his joy at the fourth level underneath his passion at the upper-three levels. The seven last words of Christ express an exquisitely beautiful and expensive intimacy. When Jesus said: "Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me. Weep for yourselves and for your children" (Lk 23:28), could he have been other than a being-for- others amid terrible dryness and felt fear? When he cried out: "Father, forgive them; they do not know what they are doing" (Lk 23:34), was he not a being-for-others amid the deaf silence of his crucifiers? When he turned his head towards Dismas to say: "This day you .will be with me in paradise" (Lk 23:43), was he not a being-for-others in the brief joy of this moment? When he looked to Mary and John and said: "Woman, there is your son; [son,] there is your mother" (Jn 19:28), was he not a being-for- Prayer of Being / 845 others emptying himself of his last possession? When he screamed out: "I am thirsty" (.Jn 19:28), was he not revealing that his being-for-others felt hollow and dry in its helplessness? When he spoke to the Father appeal-ingly: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (Lk 15:34), was he not a being-for-others feeling the loss of cherished certainties? When in a final burst of profound trust he shouted: "Father, into your hands I com-mend my spirit~' (Lk 23:46), was he not a being-for-others stripped down to nothing but trust, having given over to the Father all that was dear to him: Mary, the apostles, Mary Magdalen and the other loyal women, his work of the past thirty-five or so years, and the whole future of his Church? Underneath this crush of even~ts commemorated by Jesus' seven last words, underneath the excruciating agony of the physical, psychological and spiritual levels of Christ's ex.perience, is the fourth level of his joyous strength in the Father's love for him, and in the beautiful "background music" of the Father's tender, caring affection for him. For the death of Christ on the three top levels was simultaneous with the subdued resurrec-tion on the fourth level. This was Christ's continual prayer of being within the Paschal mystery. Has there ever been such intimacy in suffering and joy as that of Christ with the Father and with his people? Thus is revealed dimly the structure of the prayer of being beneath its previous paradoxical features. As Letter,to the Hebrews notes: "For the sake of the joy which lay before him he endured the cross, heedless of its shame" (12:2). The Terrible Liberating, ~iscipHne Of the Prayer of Belng Theprayer of being, therefore, carries within it a terrible, yet beautiful, discipline: the willingness to suffer for what is right and just, true and good. The author of Heb~rews put~ ihe meaning of discipline .bl.untly for us:~ "Endure your trials as the discipline of God who deals with you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not discipline? If you do not know the disciplineof sons, you are not sons but bastards" (12:7-8). Evi, dently God disciplines his people out of affection by allowing them to suffer. As a result, aware of powerlessnes.s, they can be endowed with his power without any fear that th, ey wohld claim this power to be their own. Chapters six to nine of Deuteronomy illustrate how a ,terrible discipline prepares for intimacy with God, for prayerof being. There God declares: "You shall not put the Lord to the test" (6:16), that is, demand that he act in your way at your time and place. Clearly, "It was not because you are the largest of all nations that the Lord set his heart on you and chose you, for you are really the smallest of nations. It was because the Lord loved you" 846 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 (7:7-8); in your littleness you do not set the music of the dance with God. "For forty years now the Lord, your God, has directed all your journeying in the desert, so as to test you by affliction and find out whether or not it was your intention to keep his commandments" (8:2); ". the Lord, your God, disciplines you even as a man disciplines his son" (8:5); ". [lest] you become haughty of heart and unmindful of the Lord" (8:14). God's guid-ance through the desert (of prayer of being) may seem directionless to us and may seem to undermine our certainties. But our trustful following keeps us from the crazy deviations of pride and of secret contempt for God's providence. This discipline of the prayer of b'eing is necessary because "otherwise you might say to 3)ourselves, 'It is my own power and the strength of my own hand that has obtained for me this wealth'" (8:17). "No, it is not because of your merits or the integrity of your heart" (9:5). This last statement is strangely reassuring for the person doi.ng prayer of being and feeling virtueless, angry, fearful and empty. Such a person has reason to hope because Christ anticipated this: "Son, though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered; and when perfected, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him" (Heb 5:8-9). There is, therefore, a scripti]ral basis for the discipline found in prayer of being. This discipline itself, though painful, is actually a liberation produced by the prayer of being. This liberation, however, is not a secret contempt for the bodily and the sensual; such would be a disincarnation, not an incarnation, of Christ. Nor is this liberation the ability to leave a beloved person or a f~ivorite place-possession-job-ambition without suffering regret; this would be more a cold self-centeredness that is ready to detach itself only in order to grab something or someone better. Rather this liberation is: 1) a willingness to be separated from what one loves for the sake of the beloved without ever ceasing to love this beloved' (seeing off the mis-sionary friend withoUt hope of ever meeting again); 2) a'willingness to let someone dear grow freely without trying to control, even though this means great suffering for both (the parent letting the stubborn twenty-year-old make a d(astic mistake in choosing a job--for the sake of his growth in wisdom); 3) a willingness to risk everything to put God or another person ahead of one's business, sporting succesg, work, comfort, or career, even as one continues tO pursue these ventures; 4) a willingness tO choose the good consistently, i

Issue 43.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1984. ; Volume 43, Number REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOI~S (ISSN 0034-.639X). published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. REVIEW EOg REI.IGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus. St. Louis, MO. © 1984 by REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOI,~S. Composed. printed and manufactm:ed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $10.00 a year: $19.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per year (postage), For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW VOlt RELIGIOI~S: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor May/June, 1984 Volume 43 Number 3 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence wilh the editor should be sen! 1o REVIEW rolt RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from Rt.'vlt:w !'on RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Ou! of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from Universiiy Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. -A Revealing. Light to the Gentiles John Paul H At the beginning of February of this year, Pope John Paul invited religious throughout the world to join him in spirit at a special celebration for religious of the Jubilee Year of Redemption. The celebration was concluded by a liturgy held at St. Peter's Basilica on February 2, in which 25,000 religious participated. During the Mass, the pope delivered this h~omily, inviting the participants o to renew their religious profession. Today, dear brothers and sisters, 1 want to borrow these words of the old man Simeon in order together with you to adore the Light: Christ the Light of the World! We are gathered in St. Peter's Basilica in the Year of the Redemption, in the year of the extraordinary Jubilee. We are meeting in that great and multiform community which you all make up, brothers and sisters, from so many religious orders, congregatio.ns and institutes: Individuals and com-munities that are consecrated to God! This meeting brings together the representatives of the religious families who live in Rome and, at the same time, extends to all those fellow brothers and sisters with whom the oneness and the identity of your vocation unites you. Through this same oneness and identity you are also bound together by a specialunion of mission in the Church--a mission in the midst of the People of God in every country and on every continent, to the ends of the earth. Today, in this great, universal community, you join the Bishop of Rome and the Successor of Peter to proclaim, in the spirit of today's liturgy: A revealing light to the Gentiles! The light is Christ, the Light and Glo~:y of the People of God throughout the world! It is with this proclamation that you desire to respond to the meaning of tile liturgy on this feast of Candlemas, and at the same time you want to give expression to that which constitutes the interior mystery of each and every one of you. In fact, by reason of your vocation; you walk in this Light which is 321 322 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 Christ in a special way, and you bear witness to it also in a special way. Today this is made evident by the lighted candles which in a short time you will be holding in your hands. Each of these candles recalls, above all else, the Sacrament of Baptism, through which Christ began to illuminate your life with the light of the Gospel and with the light of his Redemption--Christ, whom you received through faith within the community of the Church; Christ, handed on to you from day to day in the Christian life of your family, your surroundings and your school. The full flowering of baptism is the Eucharist; and at the same time, the constant renewal of its purifying power is the Sacrament of Penance and Reconcilation. These candles that you hold, then, remind you, in the context, of today's feast, of the moment of your consecration, your religious profession, your choice of this way of life that is based on the evangelical .counsels of poverty, chastity and obedience. The ligh~t of Christ shone at that moment with an especially brilliant flame. The.Oarries of fait.h and hope joined the vivid flame of charity and focused on the Heart of your divine Spouse, which at the same time itself opened wide because of this focusing--just as this divine Heart opens widely in the mystery of our redemption which, as we know, is universal, embracing everyone and everything. " Depth and universality: these ar~ the two characteristics of the religious vocation which attest to its being ro0tedqn the mystery of the Redemption and in the light of Christ. Today's liturgy, on the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord, leads you toward this light. So you may enter the temple, just as Mary and Joseph once did when they took Jesus to JeruSalem to offer him to the Lord (see Lk 2:22). The law of the Old Testament provided that every first-born son be consecrated to the Lord (see Lk 2:23), and this consecration Was accompanied by a sacrifice of a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons. Today, beloved 'brothers and sisters, you enter this temple to renew, in the light of Christ's Presentation, your' own offering to God in Jesus Christ, your own consecration to be his exclusive property. F~:om the depths of the mystery of consecration springs this particular way of belonging to God himself--a belonging of which only the person, the knoWing and free subject, is capable. This belonging has the nature of gift. It responds to"a gift and at the same time gives expression to a gift. In the light ~of Christ, each one of you perceives with penetraiing clarity that all creation is a gift. You perceive in creation the special gift of your own humanity. And with the gift of this entire and indivisible humanity, you desire to respond ~to the gift of your Creator, of your Redeemer, of your Spouse. In this way,' there is inscribed in the huma0 "I" of each one of you a special bond of communion with Christ ahd, in him, with the Most Holy Trin!ty:~ the Father, the Son, find the Holy Spi.rit. Revealing I~ght to the Genliles / 323 Entering~the temple,, th~en, along with Mary and Joseph--where the rite of the Presentation of Jesus provided for by the law is to take place--we encounter two persons, Simeon and Anna, who are wholly consecrated to God, dedicated to the expectation of Israel, or rather, to, mankind's greatest hope of all time. Simeon, having been inspired by the Holy Spirit,~had gone to the temple (see Lk 2:27). Does this not perhaps bring to minda similar "inspiration" with which you were once moved., itself an inspiration of the Spirit? Yes, for the Holy Spirit, in the power of Christ's Redemption, is the author of all sanctity. So.is he also.author of that~ special call on the way to sanctity that is contained in the religious vocation. Today, when you renew your profession, in your hearts, remember that interior "inspiration" of the Spirit which was at the beginning of your path. Remember how this "inspiration" began, how it grew stronger, how it may perhaps have returned again after a period of time.until finally you recognized in it the clear voice of God, and the power of the nuptial love of the Lord who was calling you. Remember this today in order to give thanks with a renewed heart, in order to profess "the marvels of God" (Ac 2:ll). This inspiration from the Spirit cannot be extinguished. It must endure and mature, along with your r~ligious vocation, throughout your entire lives. You can nev.er separate yourselves from this salvific "inspiration from the Spirit," caring for it in the interior temple that each of you is! How eloquent are the words concerning the Prophetess Anna in today's Gospel: She was constantly in the temple, worshiping,day and night in fasting and prayer. Coming on the scene at this moment, she gave thanks to God and talked about the child to all who looked forward to the deliverance of Jerusalem (Lk 2:37-38). Simeon leans over the child and utters prophetic words: This child is destined to be the downfall a~d the rise of many in Israel, a sign that will be opposed so that the thoughts of many flearts may be laid bare (Lk 2:34). He addresses these words to Mary, the Mother of Jesus, and addS: "And you yourself shall be pierced with a sword" (Lk 2:35). A strange prophecy! And yet perhaps it is at once the most concise and the most comPlete synthesis of all Christology and of all soteriol0gy. Dear brothers and sisters! May this prophecy reach your souls t6day with new strength. Welcome Christ, who is the ligh't of the world: Christ in whom God ~"has prepared his salvation in the presence of all peoples" (~see Lk 2:31). Welcome Christ, who is also a "sign that will be opposed." This "opposition" is engraved into your vocation. Do not try to remove it or to erase it. This "opposition" has salvific significance. The salvation of the world is achieved precisely along the path of this opposition that is offered by Christ. And so you, by welcoming Christ~ are also a manifestation of this 324/ Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 salvific opposition. It cannot be otherwise: It is precisely in 'the name of this saving opposition that there is engraved upon your Christian and religious "I" the profession you have made of poverty, chastity and obedience. The world needs the authentic "opposition" of religious consecration as a constant leaven of salvific renewal. You will be carrying in your hands the lighted candles of today's liturgy. They say that Christ is the Light which enlightens every man who comes into the world. They are the testimony of your entire dedication to Christ and to God; they are the testimony of your consecration. These candles also illuminate the meaning of human life, the life of each one of us. As the candle gradually burns, the wax melts and the candle is consumed. May your lives burn in ~the light of Christ! May yours be lives of total nuptial dedication to his service! May the life-giving current of the mystery of our redemption pass through this life, reaching the world and man and directing all our human existence toward~ the eternal light: the light of vision and glory. Simeon said to Mary, Mother of Jesus: "And you yourself shall be pierced with a sword!" Dear brothers and sisters, receive Christ from the hands of Mary. May the mystery of your redemption reach you through her soul. May all the salvific plans of consecrated hearts always be manifest before the heart of the Mother! Be united with her, with your glance focused on her. In her is there a special resemblance to Christ who is the Spouse of your souls. Formula for the Renewal of Vows This formula was used by the Holy Father on February 2, during the liturgy in which the religious addressed by him renewed their vows. Dear Brothers and Sisters: in answering the call of the Lord, you have risen with him and have died to.sin. Through your baptism and your perpetual commitment you have been consecrated to him. Do you wish to reaffirm your desire to follow Christ chaste, poor, and obedient, in imitation of his Holy Virgin Mother? R. Yes, l do. Do you wish to persevere in your commitment to'follow the Gospel of Jesus, and to observe the rule of your religious family in order to live in evangelical comm~union with God and with your brothers and sisters? R. Yes, I do. With the grace of the Holy Spirit, do you wish to dedicate your whole life to the service of the Peopli~ of God, and above all, tO the very poor? R. Yes, l do. May God, who has begun this good work in you, bring it to completion until the day of the Lord Jesus. R. Amen. Amen. Amen. On Choosing Religious Life Today Sallie Latkovich, C.S.J. Sister Latkovich is presently nearing the completion of her noviceship in Cleveland. Sister may be addressed at St. Joseph Convent; 3430 Rocky River Drive; Cleveland. OH 44111. ~ ~klong with the obvious aspects of the renewal of religious life, in local living situations, in diversity of ministries, and in community structure and govern-ment, there has also been renewal in initial formation. To be sure, there is a newness about those who enter religious life, a newness about their very choice to live in community, and a newness in'the process of initiation into existing community structures and traditions. AS one new member, I'd like to share my reflections on coming to com-munity: at age thirty, degreed in education and theology, having been a teacher and department chairperson in a Diocesan high school, and a pastoral associate in aparish. ' About one year ago, I participated in a federation event for novices of the Sisters of St. Joseph. The meetings were held at De Mattias Hall on the campus of St. Louis Univ.ersity, where th~ sister-student~ shared their dormitory, dining room, and meeting area. I rode the elevator with bne of the resident sisters, a Golden Jubilarian, who asked how the meetings for the novices were going. After my enthusiastic reply, the sister touched my arm warmly, assuming that l was one of the directors, and said: "This is so good for the~young ones." I chuckled and responded to my dear and special elevator companion: "I am one of the young ones!" This incident challenges us all to take a good look at the new realities which have emerged past some of the old stereotypes, including the age and life-experiences of new members, the process of initiation into-and bonding with community, and the preparation for vowed commitment. There undoubtedly is something shared by all individuals who discern 325 326 [ Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 religious vocation and respond to the mysterious call from God. The very choice, however, takes on different dimensions today from the time when the choice was made by young people of high school age who came to community from their parents' homes. In my perception, the women who choose to enter religious life today are fairly self-identified, at age 25, 30, or 40 years old; they come with education, credentials, work experience, achievements, and "street smarts" that come from self-support; they have had the experience of adult human relationships, and an important growing relationship with the Lord. Thus, for the new member to community today, the adjustment involves several major changes: from single living to community living, taking seriously and publicly the values and lifestyle of the vows, and sharing their life's journey with one person as director during the time of initial formation. In the past, a person entered religious life, and the entrance carried with it obvious signs and restrictions. This is a source of some confusion today, both for the new member and for family and friends. Looking and acting the same after entrance as before leaves one hard put to describe the inner transformation that is happening in surrendering one's life to the Lord and in bonding with community. Those who entered at a young age grew into adulthood as religious; many who enter today face the conversion of integrating their adult identity with religious identity. For most who come to community today, the single life has been a life of their choice, and seemingly, of their control. There has been the responsibility and enjoyment of a home, furnished according to taste and budget. One's budget has been determined by one's employment and salary, and has included the management of credit cards, checking, and savings accounts. Regarding employment, one's functioning and achievement on the job have likely been very significant, as our society places so much emphasis on the work/productivity ethic. One has probably owned a car, thought of as a "freedom-mobile" as one gives up that ownership. Though most who choose community are highly principled and have made decisions based on good valiaes,,there has been no accountability aside from self and God for schedule, activities, involvements, for decision-making in general. When persons actually enter community, they appeal to be the same as before; and yet, not. one part of each new member's life remains the same. Living poverty leads one to relinquish ownership of possessions, Some held dear. Though the anticipation of that was much worse than the reality for me, I was surprised to discover how attached I was to my own wondeff~ul doub.l~ bed! There is a real adjustment as one begins to rely on a relatively small monthly allowance for one's personal needs; and to rely on the community for other more major expenses. The importance of my self-sufficiency was very striking the first time Ihad to present my dental bill to the community treasurer, having paid those bills myself for the last ten years. These obvious, external changes seem fairly easy by comparison ~o the less obvious, internal transformation. For a .single woman to survive and to On Choosing Religious Life Today /327 succeed in this culture, she needs to compete in the male system, which demands independence and control of every aspect and detail of herqife; and thus, to be recognized as a responsible adult.'There is a great and sometimes awe-full experience of poverty in rei:ognizing the falseness, the illusion of all that, in coming to the truth of our own gifts, but also our limitations and weaknesses. Recognizing ourselves as responsible adults.involves faith that God is the One who is in control, and our dependence is on him. One then begins ~to experience the Gospel truth: "in .weakness, power reaches perfection." Options have been open for relationship for the single woman in today's world. Being atti'active to others and being attracted by them is a dynamic which doesn't change with community membership. Soon after 1 moved into community, I attended a surprise birthday party for someone I had dated and with whom I had remained friends. When his new dating relationship came in the door, 1 was surprised:~at my jealous reaction. A sister,with whom I lived answered my own questioning with: "Welcome to the human race." Indeed, I was and am human. What does change upon entering religious life is one's availability to pursue exclusive relationships. Of course, intimacy in human relationships remains an important value; but, the expression of intimacy may undergo some change or redirection as one approaches the vow of .celibacy. Living in a homogenous community of women is a drastic change for one who has led an active life in a heterogenous setting. Families and friends have had experience in how to celebrate and live with one's marriage commitment; they fumble a bit at understanding, much less celebrating and living with one's celibate religious commitment. Obedience is difficult for one Who has made decisions singly, privately, and well for a number of adult years. Sharing discernment and decision-making is fundamental and necessary to community life, but it can feel like regressing to an earlier parent-child situation--the last~experience of consulting with an authority. That very feeling of regression was the source of my own difficulty with simply sharing with my director the Choices or plans I had made; and learning to distinguish between decisions that warranted discussion and those that did not. Along with this sharing of .significant decisions, following the proper channels and the time it takes to do so may seem very long and unnecessary as compared to spontaneous choices made .previously. Thus, beginning to live obedience demands patience and focus on integrating one's life and choices with the very life and direction of the community. ~ In communities today, there is usually one person designated as director of the new members. Perhaps this responsibility is handled in a team approach. What an important position this is, ,both for the individual new member and for the whole larger community. 1 think, however, that'in light of the role, the title "Director" is a misnomer, as the directio.n of the phase of initial formation is a joint effort as opposed to "director" and "direction-taker." 321~ / Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 In my experience, this person has been one who has shared a precious space of my life's journey; she has been mentor, counselor, and most importantly, model. Though she necessarily becomes the new member's primary contact person, she is representative of every other member ~of community who have individual responsibility to welcome the new member in the bonding/belonging .process. The new member's relationship with the director is unparalleled and unprecedented in previous adult life. Mention mtist be made, too,.of the other professed members who live with those in formation. °Their presence in local community only enhances the bonding/belonging process. Their own lives, ministries, and stories of com-munity history are a significant contribution to the new member. Occasionally, one becomes aware of an unconscious, unintended stigma attached to the "formation process" which looks backto the days when the present professed community were in formation themselves; the time when new members were young and inexperienced, not allowed to speak with professed, much less participate in community affairs, or even ,be present for chapter proceedings. The ghosts of those times come out of the closet when new members today are welcomed with rhetoric but subtly held at a distance from the professed community, not actually excluded but neither included, or not taken seriously because of a "hangover attitudi~" that they are just novices. It is especially difficult when a new member feels or experiences a separation, one that is hard to articulate or explain, from professed members of community who may be the same age, have common interests, or like experiences. To be truly welcomed is the beginning of bonding and encouraging of self-investment. The choice for religirus life in community is just that: the choice to invest. oneself in response to a call from the Lord, to join together" with others for the sake of the kingdom. The choice is full of hope, expectation, and celebration. Like the Gospel grain of wheat, there is death, there is loss. We mourn every loss, and experience pain in that; pain that deserves to be named in order to be a source of growth, of resurrection to new life. Just so, the grain of wheat produces much fruit. The dynamic of community life is like being planted in good, rich soil, which nourishes that growth: in the sharing of life and prayer, in gathering around the eucharistic table and the supper table, and in mutual support and challenge. In conclusion, one might look at the numbers of people who are entering religious life today, and despair that so many fewer are choosing community than did some years ago. On the other hand, there can be. i~ause for great rejoicing that people are attentive to the Lord's call, seek to respond, and so choose--in many cases, a choice that is clearer and freer than in previous times because there is an understanding and experience of options and of life. When we take stock of the renewal that has taken place and continues in religious communities, let us include the new experience of those who come. What Is a Novitiate For? DonaM Macdonald, S.M.M. Father Macdonald has been a frequent contributor to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, He has served his congregation as master of novices while in India. Presently Father Macdonald resides at 'St. Joseph's; Wellington Road: Todmorden: Lancashire 0114 5HP: England Roberi Bolt's play A Man for All Seasons. a young man called Richard asks "Thomas More for a job. "Employ me" he says, "I would be steadfast." To this °Mo~:e replies: "Richard, you couldn't answer for yrurself even so far as tonight."~ These proved unhappily propheti6 words, as Richard was to perjure himself later at the trial of the saint. All generalizations are false to a degree, but More's comment is true of ~o many today under the age of thirty. There is good will and idealism in ,~arying degrees, but little internal cohesion. Too many are too soft centered. One cannot take too. seriously, therefore, much of what such people say or do. Equipped though tohey may possibly be for ~a short run, one would be ill-ad~; ised to bet on their stamina over a longer distance. If on(~ takes Bophoeffer's de's~riptior;~ of maturi.ty as an acceptable criterion the maiure per'son is one 'whrse center of gravity is always where he or, she actually is2--then clearly many ~n this age group are immature. The a'doleffcent, by definition, has n6 central reference point, in some cases starting each day with a clean slate. The commitments of yesterday ark behind him or forgotten. He is, after all, trying' tO form an independent character. Considered in law to be adult at eighteen or so, by any other criterion he might not be so viewed. Quite often he is an emotional mess moving in a world where so much is relative and little seems meant to last. Entering into adult commitments with the mores Of an adolescent, the miracle is that so many make i,.t in view of the numbers who do not.ln the contemporary jargon, young people are today subject to so marly presstires. One pressure notable by its absence, is the need to accept 330,/ Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 personal responsibility for decisions taken. There is no c~iiter of gravity in the present moment. The effects of this paradox of persons being legally adult and emotionally adolescent, are seen in every walk of life, not least in their seeming inability to fbim a permanent commitment. So harmful are the general ~effects of this in marriage, for example, that it is now being seriously canvassed whether there is such a thing as an automatic right to marry. As society has to pick up so much of the failure and casualities, has it not the right to take out preventative inSurance? , All of this is relevant to religious life find to the admission and formation of young candidates. "Am I dealing with an adult or an adolescent?" is an ever-present question for anyone working in formation. The pattern sketched earlier is valid for the young religious and young priest as well as the young married. One °has had similar conversations, hearing an uncannily uniform vocabulary, with all three categories of young people facing difficulties over their commitments. ~ Whether speaking~to married, priest or religious among the young, one so often hears "The magic has gone. ~.," "It does nothing for me . "':l've reached a dead-end . .," 'Tm too young for responsibility~:.," "Surely God doesn't want this.!" Against the wider canvas of feeling that the world owes them a living--or at least that it should play fair--the underlying thread seems to be that since the commitment made to marriage, priesthood or religious life no longer does anything for me, I owe it to myself to get out from under this yoke. Less often does one hear: "! gave myself to this commit/hen! expecting it to demand the best f, rom me; here, then, is my center of gravity. I Stand, thbyefore, on this gift of myself. What, then, is to be done within this situation?" 'The Church is coming to see this. Increasingly, dioceses are ,sl~eqif~,ing s~x-months' ~otice, with genuine preparation, for a.nyone° wishing to be married in a Catholic Church. Students for the priesthood are invited to take ,t~eir prepaEation more seriously, and encouraged to live and work for a while away from ~he 'tmmed~' a~te support of a seminary or °religibu~s dommunit~,.3 Yo~ng~people today often come to seminaries and religious houses to work odi" the problems of adolescence. Are they, then, in the wrong place for wrong reasons? Is this the point of religious initiation? Quite~genuinely, a ni~vitiate may have to decide wheth~r to offer an a~olescent formation pr~ogram, or an adult course for approaching God in community. Individual no,vices may have different needs,.so it is a very. difficult questipn to answer. But the results of our failure to resolve itare all about us. Immature Formation : An implicit d~cision in favor' of adolescence is sgmetimes taken in an attempt to offer Ypung can, didates a congenial environment for,~their early What-~4s a Novitiate For? / 33"1 formative years. They are kept-very much with their peers. Tho~e guiding formatioffare chosen because of their alleged ability to mik with yogng peol~le. Older religious either fight shy of their company or~are carefully screened or shepherded away from them. With such mentors one _sometimes observes in formation the pooling of insecurity. The adolescent candidate is reflected in his guide, with the formation community sharing the ethos of a studi~nt hostel. One has been at prayer in such company with their leaders, and heard the spontaneous reflections of a ,young religious ono~the,Pau, line view that '~those who belong to Christ have crucified the flesh With its passions and desires" (Ga 5~.2.4), virtually reduging it to t!~ezlevel.of occasionally doing without sugar in one's ~.tea. The sense of the prayer me.eting seemed to second this interpretatio.n, and the lifestyle of th~ young religi.o~u~.did nothing to challenge it. Similarly, listening to a lunchtime discussion on,where a religious ought to I~b buried whefi he digs, .of several pos_sibilities, argued over. no one suggested. even as a debating point, t.hat, as" religious are p.o0r, the question ought scarcely arise; poor people have'no choice. Time spent with novices, young Yeligious and their gu!des, reinforces this impression, all the more revealing because it is patently unconscious. Nov~ unless some adult shows them otherwise, they~will spend their early formative years in at,least a lower.middle~class lifestyle, in the free association character-istic, ofa comfortable student.hostel and develop~such patterns of thought and behavior in the name'of the~Go.spel and of the~ charism of their founder. In one sense they have it m~de. Yet sooner or~later a price has io be paid:~ One cannot keep playing guitar in a.student group forever: T~here is a, ,big, wide,world out there whic.h .will .not accept their premises. Nor will the GospeL.It is better to glimpse this sooner rather than.later. Ultimately.one,has to choose fgr one, self and take the consequences. A formauon program should,at least enco.ur~ge this.~ - ~ .~ ¯ Challenge the Candidate~ _ . ~ There is here an interesting contrast with the armed forces when they advertise for officer recruits. Appealing to the same age group as do religious, the individual is aske~l, for e.xample, "Did you. spend three years at university to spend twenty years sitting.behind a desk"?. The armed forces have .much to offer but.the individual must choose, and-this to~ an~ age group readycfo_r a~job. but not always for a career. Having taken a decision to inv~estigatefurther, it is~- never suggested that they are being offered a soft option The be~;t.thing about initial basic training, oit is said, is when it, stops.AL will be physically and intellectually demanding but not pointless. The emphasis is on demanding the best to enable the recruits to receive the best that can be given the.re. "We will use qualities you do not know you have" says the Navy. Responsibility will be real and given early. "Earn the right to wear these wings" is part of the al~peal of the air force. Pilots wings are not given lightly. They are something we value and you have to earn. Once you do that. they are yours by right. The army 332/ Revie~wfor Religious; May-J.unel 1984 explains t'hat, it can:pick and choose--and it does. It .d0es'not want just anybody. !t wants the best; particularly men and women who really want it. You may ,not' be good ~enough, but if yomthink you~a~e, please apply for an interview.~You may fail the interview as many do, b~t we can promise you that any subsequent interview .you take Will be easier. All advertising is partial and selective but the. overall pattern here may be worth considering;by those working in formatio'n. Do we believe that we have much'to offer? Can people glimpse this inwhat we do and who we are? Do we ask the best of young people? ~ The initial dynamic of religious founders isnot in.question. Their appeal is clear-cut. But in ~ost cases they are dead. They "live"at second hand, through us. Their once sharp insightfinto the Gospel may well have died the death of a thousand qualifications, blurred and out of focus as~ pres6nted in chaptersl constitutions and'personal living. This,iS inevitable and need cSause no surpris& After all, even theGospel,was dilutedwith'the call of the first apostle. What is to be done? Personally Responsible - lfthe candidate' is 16oking for short term canonization material in those he ,meets he will. in .the main, be dis~ppointed~ He~might:filso reflect that such company ffould probab~ly exclude him. Rather is the".novitihte Best used by someone Who can tak~ a dec'isioh and st~, with thecons~qu~nces, able to give himself to something c~ther than himself:The program th~n" is basically one of self-developmen~t, .u~ing whatever physical, emotional,, intellectual, spiritual qualities are there. The individual has't6 do it himself, and the progi'am should allowhim scope: To be.effective, the no"vice has to give himself to whatever he is doing, trying always to k¯eep it simple. Part of himself, for part.of thetime, will produce a hybrid character unable to identify with what he is doing. .Spontaneity is usually at its best when underpinned.by assiduous practice. The sportsman~who shirks training is usually, found wanting on the day of the. competition:~ qs this not unrealistic if not plain silly? An earlier generation spoke ofa "second conversiori" in religious life. One made profession, but to the degree that one W;,s~faithful to.that initial commitment. God might well-extend the invitation one tiay'to~move out of Second gear, to go de~per. Can one, ~therefore, ~a.sonably ask of the novice what may not be found in his guide? Further, young people today are from an environment where commitments to marriage, priesthood and religious life are not kept for all manner of reasons. Th'ere are of course marvelous instances of fidelity, but found alongside a very strong contrary'c,urrent. But is there any choice? Thomas More's daughter Margaret~ in Bolt s play, begs him as a skilled lawyer to find a form of words to Save himsi~lf from igrison and death. More answers her: "When a man takes an oath. Meg, he's-holding his own self in his own hands like water. And if he ope6s his fingers then--he needn't hope to find himself again. Some men What Is a Novitiate .For?/333 dren't,capable o£thi,s, but I'd be loathe to think your fathe~r~ one of them" (Act 2). This may not be the point of arrival of someone com, in~ .to a novi.tiate, bot surely it points the direction in which he must'travel? How else could he:say yes or no to anything? How form a permanent relationship with anything e!se?, "Freedom from the contemporary" is one of the rarest freed0ms0today. A novitiate could offer that; in-the exercise of personal, responsibility. ~ .l,n practice, this needs littl~e theoretical discussio.n. The can.didate,is urged to do_whatev.er ought to be done. Living this way in'the present moment,,it, has the added value, of helping the noOice come!to :terms, with ,boredom, routine and drudgery, without which he will make little-of permanent c6mmitment. "It's~boring" iS a universal escape clatise from responsibility in the age group we are considering, Living like this, he. may or ~ay not fifid thi~t theJife is for him--but at least he has a hope of a genuine ans,.wer to a question he really asked. A Minimal Frameworl~ The novice should be awa~ of a minimal framework in which the bench marks lie in his observed approach to God and thec6mmunity.~As far as God is concerned, worship may well have to be taught today in the western world, where there is little innate .reverence or sense of wonder before ~the holy. A tabernacle, set in.a corner alcove over a radiator beside a window, where an earlier generation might :have put a statue, will hardly foster worship in a novitiate chapel: The young person who is rarely seen in ~chapel other than at a community celebration, who never genuflects or bows before° the Blessed Sacrament, but immedi,ately sits down in a relaxed, leisurely position, might be indicating limitations in his awareness of God which Isaiah 6 might usefully help. The assumption that "that was a lovely Mass" indicates an objective value may have to be examined. According to his capacity, the novice may be introduced to Scripture and some of the. classical Christian writings. There is a clarity, warmth and centr.a!ity, about them that can scarcely be foun~t in contemporary spiritual writing, some of which is both popular and effeminate, neither~one thing nor the other. Self-evidently the God of'.the mys.tics may not be well,known, but novices could with pr,.ofit b.e- given a glimpse of what those closest to God in the Jewish, Christian and oth~er-'traditions have felt. This can both encourage him to widen'his horizons, and unsettle any complacen~y,.realizing perhaps that no one can program God .into any personal equation. ¯ The novice may simply be challenged by :a library. He is not asked to assimilate much, just spen~l some time~ in the.company of men and women who knew God as perhaps he never will. Is there any need to claim more for a novitiate than its offer 6f an initial thrust towards God and community living? It is for his guide :to give basic instruction on basic truth, whether the novice reads a page or not. Almost certainly at the beginning of a novitiate, novice. and mature guide Will not live in the same Church in any real sense. 3~1~1 / Revikw for Religious, °May-June, 1984 Living in the-Eresent will be equally'reflected in the novice's obse~e~t relationship'with th6Se amoi~g Whom he'lives. Again the accent is best placed on where he finds himself. Anxiety over poor water supply in a Third World ,village, while good in'itself if expressing genuine concern, rings hollow in the person~hnwilling t6 use w~te~r available to' him to wash the community ~tishes. Unlike the .man whose one acknowledgment to democracy waTs to ride in the same car as fiis chauffeur, young religiohs (or would-be religious) are not to be too choosy about the~c~)mpany they k~eep. They should'~htti~mpt to" build community with what is"given~. ,The moody young person is better elsewhere. Good manners and politeness, sometimeg ridiculed as outworn con~,entions, can at base be a genfiine regard for~ th~ feelings ~of others, particularly those outside on6's own group. They are a ,protection for the shy and the weak. Imagination is necegsary to see that one cannot live within one's pee? group forever. Ultimately, the novice should reflect trust. This is the one thing he can really give to his community. He cannot speak for anybffe else', but he can for himself: "You can trust mb." If there is.someone in the house unable to trust him, this should concern him. He tries to be honest. One °has been present at liturgies and pra~ers'in the age group we are considering, and heard sentiments expressed and gestures made that'would have made 1 Corinthians 13 read like a'chiid'sessay,'while feeling one-~ould be more at home with Bogart, Cagney, and0Edward G. Robinson. With them; you knew where you were: you did not turn your back. Young ,people may be mesmerized by words, mood and music. Truth is not ,that important for some. Again, this'may not be'a starting point, but it points the direction the novice should travel. Unless Someone Show.Me oo ~ Of ~ourse, if this i~ expected! in the candidate, it must be seen in his guide. Integrity is caught and taught, which is why, ideally, young people need to mix with adults~ There is no point in expecting honegty, if, in one's company, people feel that the~, should begin c0unting the spoons. To expect to r6ceive a confidence one should be seen to respect a ~onfidence'. Or~e wins respect and trust. Responsibility must not be a burden for the candidate and an option for his guide. Without trust one cannot build.~ A base like thfit, though~ ca~ support an encouraging amount of human weakness in the guide: ~ In earlier times novitiates were found at the end,of.long driveways or behind high wallsin buildings where the,windows were often°opaque. This cut off novices and their mentors from everyday life, and °more particularly, from their families. Yet the unpretentious pdrents of many ainovice or'guide made a more successful:job of integrating life and God than .did their sons or daughters in religioUs congregations. Yet it was made difficult f6r them to visit ~their children. Soa formation was attempted with often~no real roots in human nature and familylife. What Iso, a Novitiate~For? /~ 335 I am simplifying but not, I think, falsifying a Process which,produced many excellent religious but also. by common observ~atibn, left numbers of ,religious and their guides floundering in a no-man's,land. They could not, synthesize God and life: they often lacked human warmth and,commonsense:~' unlike many of their parents. We may make the same mistake today, unlesswe~ test the lecturer's idea against ttie lived experience of the genuinely Christian. man or ~woman. ~, .~, Maturityocan show something of human nature and off, God. Even,if.the ink is dry on the diploma, the guide may still be wet behind the ears. because what :is wanted in a guide is wisdom: knowledge asiimilated, not just knowledge acquir~'d. The availability of lecturers iniseveral disciplines for the formation team is excellent, but the mature novice needs more. What he wahts is God in the present, and the gift' of wisdom alone cambest direct him.oA university, for '~xample could give him all the knowledge her-.is capables.of receiving regarding the text of the Sermon on the Mount. but some,xriight agree with Bonhoeffer when he set up his seminary Lha_t the univ.ersity could never provide the context for living it.~ In the last anal~,sis. ~vhile properly emphasizing that formation is chiefly based on self-development, equally:,~fov the Christian, it must reflect wholly the ideal of Christ. Under The Influence of an Idi~hl Ul"timately what is off~ered in religious life? A candidate is offering himself or herself to a community of men or, women at whose hea'rt is one who has sa o, am the bread of life; he who comes to me shali not hunger, and he who believes in me shall never thirst" (Jn 6:35). Whaiever th~ young perso~ wants from life is to be found in Christ. the Lord 9f ihe community. To be really,alive is to be really Christian, drawing life from Christ as the body does fr~om food. Whatever their capacity for love and so for giving,~all that is deep~;t ih candidates can be met in (~hrist. T.hey shall never thirst in his company is his claim. He above all can use qualities they do not know they have. The young person's thirst for life and love can be satisfied and more°i~'they ~ome- to Christ in faith. In the fourth gospel we are told, faith is used some ninety eighi times-- always as a verb. never a noun. Thus it indicates a personality, trusting, believing in, relying on, wh'olly given to God in Christ. The verb in the text~e have q uoted,is particularly strong. "To believe" means.io hold on to, like a .~ice or cla~p, and never let go. The Christ of the °i~ommunity a.[one can make demands like that. and his words will take flesh oi~l~.,t,,o, the degree that'ihe candidate has such~faith. This contrast between the promises of our Lord and the lives of some of his religious will pose questions for the youngcandidate. Evidently, the novices' guides are tobe seen as men and women of. genui.ne faith. Again it is a world only for the mature. The fourth gospel is a marvelously practical place to explore the implica- 33~ /~ Review for ~Religious~ ~lay-June, 1984 tions 0f formation in, Christ, but.the merest sketch can be "given here. The gospel.'s earlier chal~te~S can be seen a.s signs illustrating what was promised to our Lord's first followers in chapter one: "You will see heaven opened and the :~ngels~of God a~_cending and descending on the Son of Man"-(Jn 1:51). In Christ's company they~wiil see God present and active among them "angels oof~God ascending and descending"---as Jacob once understood from his dream to his. utter astonishment. The subsequent challenge of the gospel is to re'~ognize this. and s6 be given "power to become children of~God" (1:12). ¯ .The sixth ~chapt'er, from which we took our original text, is really an extended plea for faith in Christ to the exclusion of all else. Despite pitiful res,our~es "whaVare they among so many?"(6:9) Christ fed thousands, and so won their allegiance to .the point of their wishing to make him King, "because you ate ,your~ fill of the loaves" (6:26): Since they thus misread the sign, "Jesus'°withdrex:v again to .the mountain by himself" (6:15) a,n enigmatic and-~far from'obvious figure. He is insistent that they look deeper: "Do not labor for, the food, tha_t perishes, but~ for the food which endures to eternal life which the Sbfi .of Man will give~ you" (6:27). With all the Old Testament overtones of the God-given. manna feeding Israel. our Lord is inyiting them a~nd us to see this in himself, and so "believe in him whom he [God] has sent" (6:29). This is extraordinary language on the lips of someone from nondescript Nazaret.h in Galilee. Persons are to cling to Christ as to food from God. This insight is progressively and shockingly deepened until, for many, it was]ust too much:. "'This is a hard saying and who can listen to it?. After this many of his disciples'drew back and no longer went about with him" (6:60, 66). ThOse who stayed perhaps saw bettei" men and women than themselves ¯ walk away from ChriSt.°Thry, too. possibly, were in the position of a marginal minority. But they must take a personal decision: "Do you also wish to go away?" (6:67). Others have voted with their feet: What will they do? They decided: "Lord to whom shall we go?., woe have b~lieved and have come to know . .~ " (6:68-69). In accepting what Peter says on the disciple's behalf, Cl~rist's words seem to cut like a slap in the face: "Did I not choose you, the twelve, and one of you is a devil?" (6:70). He is of ~ourse speaking of the one who "was to betray him" (6:7.1). This tension runs throughout the gospel our Lord rubbing shoulders with his offn yet so unlike them. They think they at last underst~.nd him only for him to escape their grasp yet again. Undeniably attractive. Christ has'drawn human nature~ at its finest: generous, trusting, ~ivingTand at ~he'sarfi~imel tirash, fearful, faithless. No one's faith in Christ is ab~blute, but must'ever~ynature as the disriples found in the crucifixion and death of their Lord wheri,they had lost all reason to ho pc. But in the.situation, its low~est point outsi~l~ of an empty grave when there was not ever/a dead body,?to~clifig to with its past remembered hopes, they once again hear tllemselves pesonally addresseff by Christ: "Mary . ""Thomas . ""Peter . " Signs which gave glimpses of God in Christ in their frrmative years are now eclipsed in the wonder of fiis resurrection presence.oHaving practically despaired What Is a Novitiate For? / 337 of life and its meaning as centered on Christ, they are now men arid women reborn. They now know :frorfi experience, that. no one need ev~e.r-hunger and thirst coming to Christ. But to attain that belief they had t0 loseMrt.uall)~ every rational indi~tion that made such a belief credible.~.They, too, died with Christ. ¯ This experieni:e is enshrined in the fourth.gospel, which, while taking the reader to the heights in God, will no less really.take him to the depths of human experience. The adolescent's faith can mature in such company or he will hurriedly leave it. It is so fearfully honest: "One of you is a devil . Do you also w~sh to go away? . Is not this the man whom. they seek to kill?. So they took up stones to throw at him, but Jesus.hid himself . I lay down my life " . Let us go that we may die with him . If anyone knewwhere he was, he should let them know, so that they might'arrest him., . He knew who was to betray him . The cock will not crow till you have denied me three times . Standing by the cross, of Jesus [was] his mother . It is finished; and he bowed :his head and gave up his spirit." All o~" this takes place in the presen.ce of God among real and, for the most part, ostensibly good people.,The signs have to be read in circumstances of everyday life and an adult response given: These are the signs of faith to which the novice's guide must point, and both of them must follow, the whole illumined by the gloriously effective sign. of the crucifixion, death and resurrection of their' Lord. "It isoa fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God~' says Hebrews (10z31), but, realistically, where else can one live? Faith will mature nowhere else. Beyond All Meaning ,, ., Itis for this reason, surely, that the contemplative side of a religious vocation must be stressed. Here truly lies the specific difference in our way of life. One may debate religious life as being primarily .a group of people trying to live the gospel under one roof, and expressing this in the outreach of an apostolate; or perhaps seeing community chiefly as an effective tool, stripped down to whatever best serves human need; but underlying it all, there has to be a hunger and thirst for God. Genuinely-chaste, poor and obedient living may seem simply odd otherwise. However imperfectly it is lived, this is what is seen. Marginal men and women living at odds with, what makes life livable for most people will need "guts," courage and conviction to keep faith with their commitment. It will all take place first and foremost within the individual man or woman. Following the gospel pattern it may mean at times looking for the living among the dead, heartbroke ~n and terrified, ofitside an empty grave. The logic of the gospel is not naturally~ours. Under GOd, only those closest to him in the contemplative tradition in every walk of life can guide us through it. To be introduced to this (or to continue in it) the novice and young religious need to be shown an uncluttered lifestyle. It is surprising .how little is needed if one's eye is kept on the one thing necessary. God and human warmth are needed in formation but little else. ~31~ / Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 Humor is~a marvelous teaching and growing mediumoable, to-both humanize and divinize. The vows are meant to free the human personality, to admit the love of God and so make one fully alive. For any of this to have an effect it will need to be. made part of oneself. If conversion to God in Christ is to happen it must be in the human heart. This is why silence, both external and internal, is necessary. One has, therefore, to be trained to be still and to listen, or one will,continue to live by external stimuli, equating immediate satisfaction from what is there with authenticity. Though young people today may sing of the gentleness of silence, few find it so. Yet an introduction to it during formation can offer' still another priceless "freedom from the contemporary." How, in fact, one can mature and hope to hear God in daily life without an understanding of silence, I do not know. In this context, a relatively recent, urgent recommendation from the Congregation for Catholic Education to those in charge of seminaries, is of particular value to persons charged with initial religious formation. Students, the Congregation maintains, "must receive an experience of interior silence. They must acquire a genuine sense of it. They must become capable of communicating it to others . [The] main task of those responsible for the running of the seminary is the formation of the students in interior silence. They must make continual and concerted efforts in this undertaking,ns This article has attempted to pursuebut one thread in the complexfield of initial religious formation--the exercise of personal responsibility in both novice and guide. Those who know something of what interior silence is are best placed to exercise responsibility in freedom, and respond in faith to wherever God will take them. NOTES ~R. Bolt, A Man for All Seasons (l~ondon: 1960), Act I. ?D. Bonhdeffer, Letters and Papers from Prison (London: 1971), p. 233. a'Experience shows that a period of'preparation for the seminary, given over exclusively to spiritu~.l formation, is n.gt only not superfluous but can bring surprising results., is welcomed by the students., insist., that th!.s suggestion be tried" (Sacred Congregation for Catholic Education: Circular Letter[Rome: !980. CBCI, New Delhi], p. 24.) *"God hates visionary dreaming; it makes the. dreamer proud and pretentious. The man who fashions a visionary ideal of community demands that it be realized by GOd, by others and by himself . When his ideal .picture is destroyed, he sees the,community going to smash. So he becomes. ~ an accuser of his brethren., of God. of himself'(D~ Bonhoeffer, Ltfe Together [London: 1970], p. 16. ~E~ Bethge, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, (London: 1970), p. 334. 6Sacred Congregation for Catholic Education, op. tit., pp. II, 14. The Charism of the Sisters of Charity of Cincinnati John~ Miriam Jones, S.C. Sister Jones is Assistant Provost at the University of Notre Dame. Regarding the topic of her article, Sister wrotei "Whilethere is a uniqueness about each charism, there is also a universalitY recognized by. many wom~n religious." Originally a talk delivered to her own sisters, Sister Jones intended as well to address this universality of value and goal. She may be addressed at: Office of the Provost; The University of Notre Dame; Notre Dame, IN 46556. We Sisters of Charity are called to be faith-filled women of the Church (Charism of the 'Sisters of Charity of Cincinnati). This simple, short sentence has four pieces that describe most of what is so central to our lives: Sisters of Charity, women,faith, and .Church. By God's grace we live out our womanhood as Sisters of Charity, and so these two pieces of the statement describe the essence of our very being, containing as well our vocation from the Lord. The other two pieces of that statement call us t~pfaith, lived out as part of the Church--and so they describe our relationship with our God and with his People. This paper is an attempt to touch upon that core experience, to fan its fire and thus cause it to burn more brightly. The' Charism of the Sisters of Charity 'Our consideration together of a part of our ~harism launches congrega-tion- wide four-year emphasis on our newly crafted charism statement. Our ability to put .words to ~hat charism comes at the end of a lengthy road. We have traveled that road now for nea.rly twenty years at the bidding of Vatican II. In the early 60s we were asked, as women religious, to discover again the spirit of our foundress and to adapt that spirit to the times in which we live: The council's document, Perfectae Caritatis, told us in 1965: 339 340 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 It serves the best interest of the Church for communities'to hax~e, their, own .special, character and purpose. Therefore loyal recognition and safeguarding should be. accorded to the spirit of founders. Over these years we have strugigled with that first,mandate: recognition of the speciai character and purpose of the Sisters of Charity. If your memory of that struggle matches mine, you will agree that in the beginning our effort to give words to the spirit that drove us seemed to be a rather frustrating one because initially it seemed to reveal more the commonalities of religious life than the uniqueness of our congregation as compared with any other. We went through a time when there seemed to be an almost interchangeability to the self-definitions of the Sisters of Charity or Of the Sisters of Mercy or of the Sisters of Loretto. But within the last few ~,ears our special character has indeed come into focus as we prayed over it and talked about it in an effort to express what it is that makes us unique. Finally in the Chapter of 1983, we as a congregation could, at long last, put into just four sentences what we believe to be our lifeblood. Thus, our coming to a recognition of that lifeblood has been for us all a long, but very rich discovery process--o~- perhaps better, a rediscovery process. Secbndly, Perfectae Caritatis ~dmonished"us to :,~afeguard our charism. That is what we are about in today's Church. But if the word "safeguard" seems a bit static, put it another way. We protect a treasure for the Church in our living out the graced vision of Elizabeth Ann Seton. Father John Futrell has defined charism as "simply a graced way of seeing and following Jesus for the service of the whole Church . "1 Elizabeth Seton saw Jesus, and she followed him; so the grace, the vision was initially .hers. It was her vocation, her mode of participation in the mystery of God. But at some historical moment over the years, each of us has received the same gift. Mother Margaret Cecilia George and many others before us have treasured it and lived it. And now it is ours to protect. The.word charism, as you know, comes from the Greek ~'ord for.gift. "Gift" not only means something freely given--that is, a grace--but "gift" .can also mean a special ability, as a gift for art~ or music, or dance, or numbers. Such a gift is recognizable in a person. In our case the gift is to be recognizabl~ not only in each of us, but in the corporate person, the Sisters of Charity 6f Cincinnati. But as with any gift, musical or otherwise, it will thrive only if it is used. And that is our challenge. A few years ago in an article in REVIEW FOR-RELIGIOUS,2 Norman Brockman, in dealing with some of the aspects 6f"charism, indicated that charism is khe very reason for a congregation's existence. The group has been given a particular graced vision for the sake of the Chiarch, and as'its member~ gather to follow their foun.d.ress anew, there comes a point where they incarnate this gi]'t, they express it, in new ways andin new forms of life. The group prays the gift, ponders'ii, witnesses it, comes to a communal realization of the charism. The Charity of the Sisters of Charity .' Our identity then as "faith-filled women of the Church" is indeed our treasure; As, with any treasure it surely needs active attention. The remaining three.sentences of our charism statement tell us somelhing of what that active attention ought to be so as to nourish the very marrow of our life with our God. But my current focus is on "faith-filled women of the Church" and will consider each of its three components: the aspect of our gift attribute to our being women; a consideration of what it means to be faith-filled women; and our call to be women of the Church. Gift We Offe.r as Women It is only in ihe last fifteen or twenty.years that we might be tempted to focus on the gift we offer to the Church as women,,to suggest that the nature of womanhood might be of specia! significance to the Church. We have ,no evidence that in 1809 Elizabeth in. Emmitslsurg; or in 1852 Margaret in Cincinnati, had an~, such realization. But the gift was there. Both those. women, those giants who preceded us, had qualities that could have been developed only in the best of women. While I doubt that either of them sensed that reality, all the years of our history give ample evidence of the qualitiesand contributions which women uniquely bring. What is it about womanhood that can be of such basic significance to the Church? At the very root of it all is something quite fundamental. God is so entire that his creation can~reflect.only bits and pieces of his goodness and his wonder: The best qualities of humans are, indeed, those piecemeal reflections. There is a great variety of these: kindness, consideration, gentleness, strength, truthfulness, honesty, all somehow reflecting in bits and pieces the wholeness of God. But consider this: there is a whole set of human qualities best reflected through .the feminine mode Of, humanity. If this is true, then inversely there mustbe another whole set of qualities that is reflected by the masculine mode. Ideally, then, it takes both those sets to come anywhere near reflecting the whole . Because historically the institutional Church is predominantly masculine and patriarchial, there has been scant opportunity in some arenas for one whole set of values to be operative. There is an increasing agreement today that the Church, as with most of society, needs to complement such male traits as rationality, aggressiveness, competitiveness, and control with a female approach that is intuitive, collaborative, egalitarian, holistic, integrative. Lest there be misunderstanding, let.it be recorded that neither approach has a monopoly on these qualities. It would be faulty reasoning indeed to suggest that women religious alone bear the burden of.bringing a feminine .counterbalance to the Church. All women of the Church are called to that. Also let .it be said that God need not be limited by structures. All of us know many a layman, priest, bishop who has a gentle, caring, contemplative side. through which those aspects of God have been reflected and taught to others. We also know .many women, through ~142 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 history and personally, who have brought the feminine to bear in Church matters--in ministry of every sort, and in the daily living out of their faith. While it is true that women religious are a very small part of the feminine side of the Church I want to suggest that because of our opportunities we bear a disproportionate obligation for feminine influence and for public representation of those facets of God which we perhaps have special capacity to understand. Daniel O'Hanlon, a Jesuit from Berkele3~, suggests that a Western world and Church suffer from the lack of the feminine.3 He calls on women to portray--and the Church to acknowledge and relate to--traits of God which he describes as feminine. They are lovely traits and we khow them, tro. He names God's compassionate, unconditional love for us; his nourishing and life-giving care for us; his presence in mystery to be found not by "rational effort but through loving contemplation; he names God's gentleness and .his sensitivity toward our every need; he describes God as an~intimate friend and companion, much more than a Master and a Lord. And capping his list, he describes God's unyielding fidelity. Those. insights invite us to contemplate God anew, to search more deeply to understand this magnificent Person. Ought we not then talk to one another about him? Help one another as sisters to plumb his depths? What an adventure is in store for those who, perhaps through us, experience those lovely feminine aspects of their God and thus know new energy and completeness in the Church. What a source of gratitude if, perhaps because of us, people's needs are served with the tender, empathic, patient touch that is especially present in women. ,~ " Faith-filled Women What does it mean to be faith-filled women? That is a powerful phrase, a phrase without which Elizabeth Seton would remain undescribed. It desi:ribes not an attitude, but an interaction that took place between God and a woman. That interaction was an integral, inseparable part of her fabric. She spoke of it as, "My blessed faith: all that 1 possess., so dear to me." It is obvious that faith was her driving force. From very early days, for her to live meant to be faith-filled. As she matured in faith it came to be synonymous with her very being, Consider the time frame. Her journey in the Catholic faith was less than twenty years, as a religious, about a dozen, but that faith journey was intense and profound.~, It pervaded the very marrow of her bones. I have chosen to dwell on three remarkable manifestations of Elizabeth Seton's faith°: her attention to the presence of the Lord, her surrender to his Providence, and the place of sorrow in her maturation in faith. Among her words are these: "The. daily lesson: to keep., quietly in his presence, trying to turn every action on his Will . "This was a lesson she offered freely, often, and to many. Again, expressed not in her words, but in a phrase from our 1979 Mission Statement, this was an experience of the "active The Charity of the Sisters of Charity / 343 presence" of an initiative-taking Lord. For her, God was the reality in life. Her awareness of him was unfailingly demonstrated in her words, whether they were written or spoken, in her daily actions, in her propulsion toward eternity. It was clear that she experienced God and that her experience was personal, intimate, confident, consuming. ~ That was one hundred and fifty years ago, when life was less hectic. And so we need to ask whether that kind of experience is affected by the passage of time, by a change in the pace of life? Is being that faith-filled a possibility in the twentieth century? The answer is visible in our midst. The manifestations, the circumstances may differ from those of Elizabeth, but if you look around at those for whom God is real, you will find women whose consciousness of their God is a twenty-four-hour-a-day affair. We constantly rub shoulders with our own sisters who bear the spark of God in their lives. We converse with' these women whose lives are fueled by a realization of God and of his loving initiative toward them. All of us need to talk more with each other about such a wonder so that we will become increasingly filled with faith in the God we love but cannot see. The second manifestation of Elizabeth's faith was in her surrefider to his providence, to God' loving arrangements in her life, to a~ God whom she personified as "The Will." Remember her zest for life, her affection for dear and' loved ones, her tendency to hope and to 0ptimism. Contrast that with the untimely deaths of William, Annina, Rebecca, Cecilia, Harriet, many of the early sisters of Charity, with her early struggles over conversion, with rebuff fro~ the Seton family, with misunderstandings from Church representatiyes, her' uncertainty about the future and the welfare of her children, her own ill health. And then hear her say, "As Sisters of Charity we should fear nothing . You must, must leave Jail] to the dearest, kindest, best of Fathers." And again, "His dear, adored; blessed Will be done! I have none, and if he but continues to give himself, 1 am blind tO everything else." In all of this, there was struggle and pain, but she surrendered to such evidence of his "active presence;" not in fatalism,~but as Jesus did, as part of the mystery of love. For her it was all or nothing. 'There is no painless path to God. She taught us the truth~ of what Kierkegaard wrote: "When God calls me,' he bids me come and die." Kierkegaard spoke of love as "passion for God" and for him an intrinsic part of that passion was obedience. In such passion there can be .no effort to control the rdationship. In his book When the Well Runs Dry, Thomas Green, in speaking of total response to the love of God, said: "It's not so much to do something a.s to allow something to be done to us.'~ In the bool~'s context that statement is describing prayer--but living in surrender to Providence is very much a lived prayer. In the third place Elizabeth Se~on matured in faith througti the place of sorrrw in her life. And sorrows there were. There was a spate of illness:death, financial struggle, two sons unresponsive to her example and urgings, ~1~14 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 complications created by her clerical superiors. All of those were accepted with graciousness and with unwavering love, but at greatcost. Her surrender became a transforming~force. In a few years she moved from an uncertain groping toward faith to an absolute spiritual mastery. At the time of Annina's death she described her anguish as a "grief of the heart--never a grief of the soul." That composure no doubt resulted from her manifestation of faith through surrendering to God's will. But with no less surrender at a later point she came to kno~w what grief of the soul meant. In her writings one can detect the presence of a dark night, a great dryness of spirit. In discovering that she suffered from such dryness w,e ought to take great solace because that is a sorrow which all of us share. Few of us know, or will know, any equal to her personal hardships. We find her endurance and equanimity marvelous and are tempted~otO think those characteristics more within the grasp of a saint than of ourselves. Nor are we very anxious to be tested. But all of us who have come beyond the earliest stages of our journey toward God know something about darkness and dryness. So here is an experience that we do share with Elizabeth. Do you recall in .your formative years in the Community any instructions on the meaning or purpose of. darkness or how to handle it? 1 don't. Yet that pattern comprises a large part of our prayer life. Elizabeth wrote about it: "This sadness of mine ~I cherish as a grace." Precisely! When we common folk can come to recognize our' darkness and dryness in prayer as God's choice for the present moment, and to surrender to that choice, we too can know the grace of transformation. That isa humbling experience and a thrilling one. Father Green says that the major part of the work of transformation in the life of a pray-er isaccomplished by surrendering to this dryness, this darkness.S The darkness is a grace. It calls us to.yield our very selves, and to be acted upon by a loying God. As prayer appears fruitless and we learn the lessons regarding .this new way to pray, we have to let go of control, words, formulae, comfort. We must learn simply to attend and yield to God. That is what prayer is all about. It can bring us to love even as we speak we desire to love: Surrendering to what ~is.happening to us in prayer can result in surrendering our whole life. Understanding this experience of apparent distance from God as proof of his very presence and of his wanting to strip and transform us, allows the experience to ready us for eternity, and allows us to yearn for him with realism. Here. indeed, We are,,one with our foundress, who matured in faith through sorrow and surrender. Lest emphasizing those three facets of Elizabeth's faith obscures the whole, let us look at the woman whom faith ~brought Elizabeth Seton to become, the whole woman, and examine her as described by Joseph Dirvin.6 Toward the end of her twelve years in religious life, Dirvin says of her, "Elizabeth had balance, a superior c, ommon sense--divine and human that puts everything in its place,unerringly, tidily." Dirvin speaks of her spirituality a.s "wide, warm, 7he Charity of the Sisters of Charity / 345 sunny, practical, generous, informal, American." He describes her as "romantic, poetic, tender," yet a realist; efficient in her work, simple, down-to-earth, a "woman of hope and unconquerable optimism."? Who: wouldn't appreciate being so described? One concludes that the faith that filled and drove her, brought her to wholeness, holiness, at its loveliest, its feminine loveliest. Women of the Church Finally, we are called to be Women of the Church. This realist whom we emulate spoke deathbed words which have clearly echoed in Charity hearts for more than one hundred sixty ybars: "My Sisters, be daughters of the Church; be daughters of the Church." It was always with great affection that she spoke of "our Church in America" and believed in its future greatness. She whose entry into that Church was such a struggle became an intimate part of a young American Church, saw its strength and dreamed its dreams--including a role for her Sisters of Charity. She also saw its unsteady side, the fragility of its human component. She herself was a victim of that weakness. It seems safe to claim that the pronouncement of Vatican II concerning the Church a century and a half later, and the thrust that the Council initiated would have delighted Elizabeth Seton and would have been in tune with her understanding of what she called "the mystery of the Church." Vatican II called it that also. The dogmatic constitution on the Church, Lumen Gentium, described the Church as a kind of sacrament of salvation, the way to ultimate union with the God of our faith. The Council Fathers took pains to show two aspects of that sacrament: the one--institutional, structural; the other--the Church as ~ gathering of a messianic people, of God's people. Lumen Gentium begins, not with the treatment of structures and government, but with the aspect of the people of God. It views his people in terms of dignity, witness, .ministry, and relationships to one another. When the Council Fathers develop the concept of the institutional Church, they do so in terms of service to God's people, never domination. They identify the aim of the structure to nurture, to contribute to the growth of God's people, to serve the human family through the various functions of authority, teaching, governing, sanctifying. But the Council Fathers also make clear that both aspects of the Church are made up of frail and sinful people who are in constant need of forgiveness and renewal. In that post-Vatican Church Elizabeth Seton would feel very much at home. She grasped its mystery, on the one hand with great affection, service, loyalty, respect; on the other, with a sympathy for human frailty and at times, with loving criticism. She complained to Church authority when she saw decisions impeding the good that she felt God intended, or interfering with freedom of conscience--the conscience of others, never her own. Archbishop Carroll received many a letter from her bemoaning decisions made by Sulpician superiors, asking him to adjudicate their propriety. However, the content of those letters always testifies to her understanding of authority, and to her loyalty. As Dirvin says, "She knew when to fight and when to submit."7 3t16 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 Struggling for that kind of balance is a lesson for her twentieth-century daughters in a time which Jesuit Avery Dulles described as the "century of the Church.TM We as women of that Church must breathe its air, think in its terms, identify with its people, be involved in its struggles, fine tune the voice of God's Spirit, so that our convictions and subsequent struggles are devoid of self-interest or personal causes. True women of the Church are first faith-filled women in love with their God. Only from that perspective can we be genuine leaven in ~society, agents of transformation. Whatever else it is, the Church to which our foundress commended us is charged with the revelation of God's mystery. It is to be the agent of our meeting God, of bringing him to men and women, and of bringing men and women to him. Our Church is a universal church. In today's world communi-cation, transportation, international attitudes join people in every segment of the globe. All peoples deserve our prayers, our concern and some of our service, but our compelling charism is to be women of the American Church, just as it was Elizabeth's in her brief time. Elizabeth Ann Seton had a particular understanding of that American Church which grew out, of her understanding of both American Protestantism and Italian Catholicism. Long before its time, she seemed to understand both aspects of Vatican ll--the mystery of the Church as God's people in their journey toward him, and the structured Church, the various levels of which she dealt with in a very personal way during the twelve years she gave life to the Sisters of Charity. Her hope for our Church and her fidelity to it was not blind. She knew human frailty--her own, her sisters, the clergy; she experienced a lack of understanding personally and on behalf of the congregation. If justice were impeded or good thwarted she spoke and wrote with conviction and with a marvelous mix of humility~ courage, frankness and reverence. Regardless of our point of view, I daresay that each of us is troubled in some way about today's Church. We may have misgivings about the place of American women religious, about official or semiofficial positions takeri or not taken, or about the expectations of the hierarchical Church vis-a-vis our renewal experience of the last twenty years. Sixteen decades after she asked us to be women of this Church, what would be Elizabeth Seton's advice to us today? With no claim that 1 have heard her accurately I do want to share with you what 1 believe 1 heard. I believe that her advice would be voiced with enthusiasm for post-Vatican life in the Church and in religious life; that with us she would find these times of change and uncertainty rich, growthful, challenging. I think her advice would go something like this~three categories, three points under each: Advice for the Head I. Keep recalling the nature of the Church. Have sympathy and patience with the human element, with the need toaddress diversity and to learn The Charity of the Sisters of Charity 34"/ 2~ from it. When there are differences, know, always that there are two sides to the issue. Appreciate the good will of those who judge the position differently, and think very long thoughts about its being God's Church and about the ultimate direction being in his hands. As women with gifts in their heads, continue to probe and to learn. Having limited vision makes us part of the problem. The total truth resides in no one human being, but the more of that truth which we possess the more we bring God's mind to the task. Recognize the importance of bridgebuiiding for effectiveness. If one spans a spectrum, no "we/they" division becomes possible. Advice for the Heart i. Foster positive emotions so as to outweigh negative ones. Our love for God's people should tip the balance against any cynicism about the institution. Our gratitude for mystery should outstrip any impatience with human limits. Our hope for the Goff of our faith is more powerful than any kind of discouragement. There are all sorts of wisdom afloat about what can be accomplished by light hearts as opposed to heavy ones. 2. Let your hearts be governed by your experience of the Lord. Yearn for him and his kingdom as the very framework for your life in the Church. That kind of perspective enables "living with" a great deal which we may find frustrating. 3. Stretch toward an unyielding, full-hearted commitment. Expect to pay the price to accomplish that good. Elizabeth Seton taught us that. Jesus Christ taught us that! If things go smoothly, it might just be because they are going our way. Advice for the Person I. Elizabeth Seton anticipated that Sister-of-Charity presence would effect good in the Church. We, as individuals and as a congregation, should make decisions about our service on the basis of contributing toward a stronger, healthier American church. In a time of lessening numbers, it is critical that we target strategic areas of service with special concern for the ne~ds of the poor, whether that poverty be of body, of mind, or of heart. 2. The gifts of our women are our greatest resource. Developing those gifts, preparing for ministry and choosing that ministry become the joint responsibility of congregation and sister. 3. We represent and participate in both aspects of Church. We are part of the People of Ggd; we are, as women religious, some part of the structure of the Church. We therefore have two kinds of loyalty, two kinds of understanding, we must strive to balance those two parts of the Church as she did. 1 believe that Elizabeth might hope for us to do so 34~1 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 with the feminine traits we have. learned from our God: compassion, gentleness, patient fidelity, the urge to give life. We will make a real difference among Grd's peopl~ and ifi the institutional Church, and therefore in the to~tal, Church, only if weare deeply of God. Only as ]'aith-filled will we be impelled to be women of the Church. And so, as was stated in the beginning, "We Sisters of Charity are called to be faith-filled women of the Church." It is our heritage and vocation. It is a mark by which we are to be recognized. It is our gift, the treasure we keep alive, for those who also will come to be Sisters of Charity. NOTES ~John Carroll Futrell, S.JL "Some Reflections on the Religious Life," Review for Religious, 28, pp. 705-718. 2Norbei-t Brockman. S.M., ~The Shadow Side of Charism," Review for Religious, 35, pp. 229-231. -~Catholic Theological Society of America's convention, reported in National Catholic Reporter, July 15. 1983. 4Thomas H. Green, S.J., When the Well Runs Dry (Ave Maria Press, 1979). Slbid. 6Joseph I. Dirvin, C.M., Mrs. Seton (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1979). 71bid. ~Avery Dulles, S.J. "Introduction to the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church," in" The Documents of Vatican 11 (Guild Press, 1966). Marriage and Continence Complement Each Other Jesus did not say that marriage was inferior to celibacy in itsel£ He recommended celibacy only for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. The two forms of life are complementary. The Christian community witnesses to the eschatological dimension of the kingdom through celibacy for its sake. Married love must be marked with the fidelity and total self-giving that are the basis of religious and priestly celibacy; and continence for the sake of the kingdom of heaven must lead to parenthood of a spiritual kind (John Paul ll, General Audience, 19 April, 1982; L'Osservatore Romano, 19 April, 1982). Bonding Together for Mission Melinda Roper, M.M. Sister Melinda Roper has been president of the Maryknoll Sisters since 1978. This article is based On an addres~ given by her to the Sisters of St. Joseph of Cleveland in preparation for their Chapter of November, 1983. Sister Melinda may be addressed at: Maryknoll Sisters; Maryknoll, NY 10545. ~am happy to be able to share with you some of my reflections and experience on mission. I would like to talk about how mission is a source of energy and commitment in community and how commfinity is a source of energy and commitment in mission. Where we begin to discuss such a theme is important. My starting point is the recognition of a fundamental tension which permeates both mission and community. This tension is described by the following phrases ih John's gospel: "They are not of the world, even as I am not of the world,"(Jn 17:16), and "As thou didst send me into,.the world, so I have sent them into the world," (Jn 17:18). The everlasting kindness and faithfulness of God's love for the world is condemned and crucified by that same world: "And the world has hated them because they are not of the world, even as | am not of the world," (Jn 17:14). Why does this happen? Why must it happen? Is there any way for Christians, the Church and religious communities to evade conflict and confrontation with the world? Today, as in the histo~'y of the Church, there are two principal routes of escape: isolation and aloofness from the world is one; the other is through compromise with the world. Each route is paved with fear whose source is self-interest, be it "eternal" self-interest, or the temporary security of power and comfort. If we opt for one of these routes, there are many scenic side paths along the way which subtly distract us from the isolation or compromise we may have chosen. We thus elude this fundamental energy and tension in the life and person of Jesus to which John refers. 350 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 As we read the letters of Paul to the early Christian communities, we can trace these same tendencies to escape the radical implications of.believing in Jesus Christ: Yet among the mature we do impart wisdom, although it is not a wisdom of this age or of the rulers of this age who are doomed to pass away. But we impart a secret and hidden wisdom of God, which God decreed before the ages for our glorification. None of the rulers of this age understood this; for if they had, they would not have crucified the Lord of Glory (I Co 2:6-8). As I look at many groups within the Church in the United States today, I perceive that we have moved from a spirituality of flight from the world into the arena of public issues to a degree that had not been part of oi]r recent past. We have moved into the world. As we continue to become involved in public issues, especially those which deal with economic and political policies and structures, we must be keenly aware of the radical differences between the wisdom and tactics, strategies and ideologies of the world and the wisdom of God in Jesus Christ. Our temptation today may be to seek change by compromising the wisdom of God with that of the "rulers of this age." Most Christian communities today have given much time, effort and prayer to social justice, solidarity with the poor and world peace. Our intention and motivation are in harmony with our great biblical tradition. Yet, how frequently do we find ourselves co-opted by the ways of the world when it comes to action toward a future world of peace with justice. It seems that there are at least five considerations we must address if we are not to be coerced and co-opted by the world: ~ 1. The Christian community dreams of and envisions, the reign of God together. How do we concretize our vision of the kingdom or reign of God today? Each culture and society will descri6e the fullness of life or the reign of God with different images. The biblical images with which we are familiar range from a land flowing with milk and honey, where no one is in need, to the heavenly Jerusalem coming out of heaven, with God dwelling among us and wiping away all tears, death, rriourning and pain. The quality of our relation-ships will flow from a superabundance of love and understanding; there will be no inequality among nations,, races, men and women, rich and poor. Today, what are the concrete images tliat we in a technological culture visualize for ourselves and our sisters and brothers around 'the world as we move in hope towards the reign of God? How much does the "great American dream" of our ancestors--freedom, liberty and justice for all--influence our vision of the reign of God? Perhaps we have increasingly greater difficulty concretizing our ~,ision of the fullness of life for all peoples. I believe this is also one of the greatest challenges for us rdigious today regarding community, living. What are the concrete images and vision~ we have of community in terms of thee reign of God? It 'seems tO me that the twff Bonding Together for Mission / 351 are intimately and intrinsically ,bound up in each other. Our religious communities can only exist for and within the reign of God, not for themselves. What is our vision? It is not sufficient for individuals to articulate a vision. Communities of believers must share a vision. 1 believe that shared reflection moves us more deeply into the wisdom of God. As our ability to listen,becomes more sensitive, we enter into the harmony and paradox of our world and of~our God. We will become communities Of contemplation; From this contemplation together will flow a vision for tomorrow. The most concrete question I can put before you is: Do we take the time? 2. The Christian community discerns and selects together those ministries which will move it toward its vision. How do we move from where we are today towards our vision? This question is a bit easier to comment on because we can deal directly with where and how we expend our time and energy. We do make choices and organize our lives and communities in order to effect change in our world. For most of us, our ministries or apostolic works are key indicators .as to how we see the reign of God coming about, and this is also where we can easily slip into the coercion~of the world of which John and Paul wrote so much. Iwill use one example of this coercion which I judge to be very subtle in our society, culture and Church, namely: professionalism. It is a two-edged sword because, on the one hand, the skills and knowledge we can acquire in order to better serve others in the spirit of the Gospel are extremely useful. On the other hand, the systems, institutions and values within which a profession is learned and exercised are frequently fundamentally opposed to the Gospel. Perhaps the old American dream was envisioned as coming about through competence and hard work, but that is not sufficient for the coming of the reign of God. Some of the mechanisms which keep our systems going are: competition, prestige and achievement rewarded by salary, benefits and promotion to positions of greater control and management. We become immersed in bureaucracy instead of in the life of the world. Once,we begin to take all these on as signs of success and even as sources of our identity, we are being co-opted by the world, and, before we know it, we begin to accommodate ourselves, our institutions and the Gospel to the standards and values of the world. Let no one deceive himself. If any one among you thinks that he is wise in this age, let him become a fool that he may become wise. For the wisdom of this world is folly with God. Forit is written: "He catches the wise in their craftiness," and again: "The Lord knows that th~ thoughts of the wise are futile" (I Co 3:18-20). I believe thav'0ne of thekey functions of the religious commu.nity today in the United States is to reflect and discern together those ministries and works which ate most in tune with the spirit of the Gospel. At the same time, we challenge each other and our ihstitutions to a keen awareness of the great possibilities of being coerced and co-opted by those values and standards 352 / Review for. Religious, May-June, 1984 which demand that the Gospel be accommodated. What procedures and criteria do we use in order to set directions or priorities in ministry? 3. The Christian community chooses a lifestyle which contradicts those values in a c~lture which undermine the Gospel There is a ,.fundamental tension in most religious communities today regarding lifestyle, especially concerning material goods. In most .of the great religious traditions, including the Christian tradition, there is a stream of asceticism and spirituality which advocates simple or austere living .in the pursuit of truth. There is also the fact that most organized religions, at one time or another 'in their history, have become wealthy and powerful according to worldly values. In terms of their purpose, this is frequently evaluated as a time of decadence. The Catholic Church in the United States has moved from being a Church of the poor immigrant to one having social acceptability and even prestige. We religious have moved right along with this change. Our expectations of material comfort, from health care to diet and entertainment, have blended pretty well with those of our society. In one sense, this may not be so bad in that we are no longer traveling an escape route of isolation and aloofness. In another sense, though, it is time to examine the invasion of materialism and consumerism into our values and understanding of the Gospel. To the degree that our economic structures, which both support and export materialism, undermine our vision of the reign of God, we who form Christian communities must be a living sign of contradiction. We must remember, however, that we, as Jesus, are sent into the world, not away from it. We will be tempted to compromise. Living community today means that we can both affirm and challenge each other to become living signs of contradiction to our unjust, materialistic society. ,, 4. The patterns o~f relationship in the Christian community contradict the fear and defensiveness in United States society. Again, ~we must look at the reality of our society and culture .and .be sensitive and insightful in order to clearly distinguish that which is of the world and that which is of the Gospel. Examples abound--and I will select just one for comment: our system of defense in the name of national security. Any defense system is based more on attitudes and values than on dollars and weapons. First of all, it requires an enemy and a threat. It necessitates sufficient fear in order to mobilize resources to destroy the enemy, in this case, communism. Aititudes of defensiveness and fear permeate our society to such a degree that "an eye for an eye"is not even held up as an acceptable basis for action. Through fear, we have created an enemy who is ,so monstrous that the only acceptable posture of defense is the capability and willingness to totally destroy it. Followers of Jesus are sent into this world to live according to radically different attitudes and values: love your enemies, forgive those who offend Bonding Together for Mission / 353 you, pray for those who persecute you. These teachings are not meant solely for isolated communities of believers. They are meant to be announced and lived in the market places, court rooms, Congresses and White Houses of the world. Paul gives a lot of advice to the early Christian communities. To the community in Corinth, he writes: "When reviled, we bless; when persecuted, we endure; when slandered, we try to conciliate; we have become and are now, as the refuse of the world, the offscouring of all things" (I Co 4:12-13). As we attempt to move toward our vision of the reign of God, we will, without doubt, be slandered, persecuted and ridiculed. This will happen because, according to the defensiveness and fear of our woi-ld, we have nothing to defend and nothing to fear. We have a source of hope and truth which makes us free. This freedom is perceived as subversive and as a threat by those who control and operate within the psychological, political, economic and cultural structures and systems of defensiveness and fear. It is neither easy nor simple to be sent into the world with these values. The Christian community and, therefore, the religious community must become a place that is radically different from the world. Our communities challenge the hostility of our society with hospitality, welcoming the refugee and the outcast. We will become a source of courage for each other and for the world. We will also become a sign of contradiction to the world. 5. The Christian community lives and celebrates a universal Eucharist. When we gather in table friendship with the poor, the sinners, the refugees and the outcasts of our society and of our world, we do so in memory of the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. As a community of faith, we share his body and blood in forgiveness and in hope of the fullness of life for all peoples. As Eucharist becomes the strength of our unity, it also becomes the energy of our mission. We know that worship without justice is blasphemous; we must come to understand that there is no justice without worship. As communities in mission, we pursue truth and justice with forgiving hearts. As fear disappears from our lives, we become the living memory of Jesus. We celebrate salvation in harmony with all of creation, and in communion with all peoples. 1 have given them thy word; and the world has hated them because they are not of the world, even as I am not of the world. I do not pray that thou shouldst take them out of the world, but that thou shouldst keep them from the evil one. They are not of the world, even as I am not of the world. Sanctify them in the truth; thy word is truth. As thou didst send me into the world, so 1 have sent them into the world (Jn 17:14-18). This is Jesus' prayer for us. He not only prayed for us, but he himself experienced what he prayed. He calls and sends us into the world to be the living memory of that prayer "God so loved the world . , May our communities move freely into the world to announce and live the Good News of the reign of God. Mission as Communication: A Marginal Note Anthony J. Gittins, C.S.Sp. Father Gittins, who has had "mission experience" in the conventionally accepted sense of the term, is now a member of London's The Missionary Institute and resides at the Chaplain's Residence; 34 Adolphus Road; London N4 2PP; Engl.and. Contraries and Contradictories The Church is missionary by nature; we are coming to the end of missionary work. Missionaries are special people who go overseas to preach the Gospel," you can be a missionary from a hospital bed. Every Christian is a missionary; we can't all be missionaries. A few people have a special missionary charism; if you are not a missionary, you are not a Christian. Today is the age of mission on six continents; today we must have a moratorium on missionary activity. "I work in a London parish, but I'm a missionary," . I'm not really a missionary, but l~n working here in Tanzania for a few years." "This is a comfortable, urban parish--it badly needs a missionary; . This middle class, comfortable parish is not for me--l'm a missionary." One could easily multiply these antithetical and seemingly contradictory statements, all of which are easy to elicit these days. I list them only as a reminder that the notions "mission" and "missionary" are still emotive terms and not amenable to a simple, acceptable definition. If we were to look at the usage of the word "pastoral," we would find similar problems of definition and clarification; and any discussion which tries to contrast the notions "missionary" and "pastoral," and to reach satisfactory and agreed conclusions on the distinctive and common features of each, is almost certainly bound to end in an impasse. Each of those opening statements contains some truth, indeed some important truth; but each too contains either some gross oversimplification or 354 Mission as Communication [ 355 some very dangerous implication. Could we not simply reach a careful and common definition of mission, and solve the ambiguities? In the following pages 1 will consider the question: "how can one be a missionary?" and avoid the questions: "what is mission?" and "what is a missionary?", since to attempt to do the latter would be to fall into the trap of defining mission and missionary, which is impossible; the words "define" and "definition" contain the notions of "limits" or "limitations," and derive from the Latin verb "to set bounds to." Yet the word mission comes from the verb "to send," and in some sense at least, the missionary is someone who is sent without limit, to the ends of the earth if necessary. So let us not define mission; let us not set bounds to the ends of the earth. Identifies and Differences If there is no useful reason to attempt an etymological definition of mission, and no theological reason either, why, we may ask, is it so fashionable to try to define the concept? And why has so much ink been recently spilled, on this issue? Do missionaries need to define themselves? I suggest that there is, and has been for some time, a tendency, inhibiting and unhealthy--a tendency both in conversation and in print, and illustrated in part by some of the statements with which I started--to overanalyze the concept of mission, to the point where missionaries have become self-conscious and apologetic or aggressive. Do missionaries need to prove that they are different from everyone else, somehow special? Do they need to be assured like James and John, that they will sit by the side of Christ in his glory (Mk 10:35-37), or to be told that they are the greatest (Mk 9:33-34), even though they should be very familiar with the mind of Christ on these matters? Do the professional missionaries, whose identity was once unquestioned and unchallenged, now feel peeved that they have borne the burden and heat of the day only to find latecomers equally acknowledged and rewarded (Mr 20:1 !-i6)? Is this not what Christ warned us against? When you have done all you have been told to do, say "We are merely servants: we have done no more than our duty" (Lk 17:10). So long as any missionary is basically insecure and needs to be accepted as "special," he or she simply cannot fulfill the missionary and Christian vocation. What is needed is a strong sense of identity and self acceptance, certainly: a sense of purpose and a sense of vocation. But if the identity of the missionary vocatipn is unclear, how is the individual missionary to cope? And if missionaries cannot cope with themselves, how can they cope with others? A strong self-image and self acceptance are prerequisites for authentic service, and need to be nurtured through parents and family or through other forms of community. Religious or apostolic communities are, theoretically, ideally constituted to provide affirmation, solidarity and support, yet many such communities are notoriously poor at reinforcing and encouraging their members, whether 3[i6 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 through rivalries within or uncertainty and disagreement about the nature of their apostolate and lifestyle. Anyone with an underdeveloped sense of identity or selfworth, is hardly going to be able to affirm others, because such a one feels threatened; and anyone without a conviction about the nature of mission, is not going to be able to challenge or share with others. While some individuals search for their vocation anew, and institutes try to rediscover their charisms as though they were some pot at the end of the rainbow, many missionary institutes settle unhappily or unknowingly into a terminal stage of their existence, and other individuals agonize over their loyalties to their communities and their own integrity. And all the while, "mission" remains an imperative of the Church, generous souls seek an authentic experience of this reality, and new shoots are to be seen tentatively pushing through the earth's mantle into another spring. Exclusion and Inclusion The different Christian denominations have moved increasingly--on the individual and community level--towards identifying and exploiting what they have in common rather than isolating themselves in their differences. But whilst there has been undoubted progress and marked goodwill among the denominations, there remains much work to be done within them. I can and will speak only of the Catholic Church when I say we have sometimes seemed to overemphasize the difference between us, on an individual, parish or religious-institution basis. And, admittedly justifiably on occasion, we have made a virtue out of pluralism and variety, where a greater virtue might have been discovered in exploiting areas of similarity and examining possibilities for collaboration. Why should we make lines of demarcation and distinction unless we are certain they are necessary? Why foster an exclusive mentality when an inclusive invitation is central to the Gospel? Why distinguish what is pastoral from what is missionary, unless to do so is to discover a great truth? What is devalued if we say that all pastoral activity must be missionary, and that all missionary activity must be pastoral? We can argue that there is a real distinction to be carved out between what is pastoral and what is missionary,I but less and less is there any justification for defining them in exclusive terms, as either/or. Far more important than a terminological issue is a psychological issue? how can we make mission work more pastoral and pastoral work more missionary: to put it another way, how can the universal Church be localized, and the local Church be universalized? And how can we break away from a narrow parochialism of ecclesiastical structures if our minds, however putatively missionary, are parochial? If the pastoral and missionary dimensions of the Church cannot be dynamically interrelated, it is difficult to understand how the outcome of apostolically oriented undertakings can build up the body of Christ which is the Church. To say that everyone is called to take some part in the mission of the Mission as Communication / 357 Church, is surely not so much to devalue mission as to value each Christian; it is to challenge the secure ahd the complacent, and to encourage the fainthearted and timid; it is to see the call of Christ as inclusive rather than exclusive. So what is this call of Christ? It is something so powerful that a matter of an hour or two after having borrowed the boat of a fisherman and preached from it, Jesus had Peter, a bluff fisherman, agreeing to fish where he had spent a fruitless night, and with his partners James and John turning his back on the security of his fisherman's business, leaving everything he had, and following the stranger. That is the call: as stark and unqualified as: "come, follow me." This, essentially, is what characterizes the Christian; essentially it is what characterizes the missionary: the response to the call of Jesus, wherever that call may lead. Jesus himself did not go far from his home, but his mission was from his Father to the whole of humankind. Our participation in that mission is more important than any location, and it is as possible to be missionary on one's doorstep, as it is to fail to be missionary ten thousand miles from home. Our only objective should be to be included in the Mission of Christ, not so much by where we are as by who we are. Apostles and Apostils An apostle is someone who is sent out with a mandate; an apostil is something in the margin, an e×empIification. Just as the Son of Man was not called to be served but to serve (Mt 20:28), and as the servant is not above the master (Jn 13:14-15), so we are called to serve (Lk 22:26). So the Christian, being a missionary, is sent out with a mandate, and the mandate is "to serve." The one who serves is a server or a servant, an.d the word servant comes from the Latin for a slave--a person legally owned by another: one with no freedom of action or the right to property, or, in a very accommodated sense, one who works in very harsh conditions for very little remuneration. Jesus came to serve (Mt 20:28), and of his own lifestyle he remarked: Foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head (Mt 8:20). So what are we called to, if we follow Jesus? Though it is rapidly becoming a clich6 that it is more important for us to be than to do, I would like to reflect on the truth therein and say further that for missionaries it is more important to be than to go; if we solve thefirst problem or rise to the first challenge, the second will not frighten or confuse us. What we are called to do is to become marginalized; otherwise we cannot follow Jesus, since he went to the "lost sheep" of the house of Israel. He was himself sent to bring the good news to the poor, to proclaim liberty to captives and to the blind new sight, to set the downtrodden free (Lk 4:18). But the point is not so much what he did, as who he was, and in looking at 35~1/ Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 what he did, we see what he was: pushed to the margins of society. There is little point in one's going to a foreign country if one cannot communicate. I may go to France or Germany with no French or German, and provided there is someone who is linguistically competent in my language, we can communicate. And we have been reminded a thousand times of the necessity of language-learning for missionaries; I am not going to repeat that reminder. But if one is to go to the margins of society--to the poor, the prisoners, the blind, the downtrodden and dispossessed--how is one to communicate? Since by definition they are not able to communicate in terms of the rich, the free, the sighted, the emancipated and the privileged, there is only one way. If they are like French or Germans who speak no English and cannot hope to, then the English must learn French or German. And if we are to be missionaries in the spirit of Jesus, we must not only realize that we must become marginalized; nor is it sufficient to want to become marginalized; we must learn to become marginalized. Some missionaries certainly realize that they must become marginalized, and of those, some certainly want to. But how many really learn to become marginalized, and how many don't see the problem? It is not for me to point the finger or to make judgments; I am having enough of a problem recognizing the issue. It is not possible to be an apostle without being an apostil: out on the margin--an example. Missions and Margins One of the popular definitions of mission is the following: "a group of people sent by a religious body, especially a Christian Church, to a foreign country to do religious and social work." It is the "foreign country" that characterizes this definition, and many people would accept this without demur. It may be argued that this is a necessary element; but it is certainly not a sufficient one. The missionary must in some sense be on the margin of society. But how can one accept a marginalized status (surely this is a "cross-cultural" dimension of mission?) if one cares overmuch about defining oneself as special? And if a person does not have a strong sense of identity, belonging, and self acceptance, how is it possible to embrace others at the margin of society and not be crushed and destroyed? We need to be trained to be marginalized since most of us have no idea what it is like. We are secure, fed, housed, privileged; we need to be "conscientized" before it is too late and we react with incredulity to the burning accusation: I was hungry and you never gave me food; I was thirsty and you never gave me anything to drink; 1 was a stranger and you never made me welcome; naked and you never clothed me, sick and in prison and you never visited me (Mt 26:41-44). If we are not trained we will make dreadful and culpable mistakes, for goodwill is not enough. Without training we will not be able to localize the Mission as Communication / 359 Church--make it relevant to the people of God. And how can the local Church localize, unless we marginalize? Otherwise we are perpetuating an unwholesome and stifling universalism. Without training we will try to perpetuate a Church "always and everywhere the same," with no idea of the forces of social change and the real problems of real people. Without training we will not be walking with the poor and the disenfranchised and the marginalized--we will be walking by them, and maybe even on them. The real meeting to be effected is not, 1 suggest, between us--English, American, Italian--and them--African, Latin American, Hispanic: us and therh in this context are almost totally other, almost alien to each other. That kind of meeting would be like the meeting between tourists on a round-the-world trip, and the Mud-men. of Papua New Guinea or the dancers of Bali. No, the real meeting, the model for which is Jesus (see Lk 7:22-23), is between the marginalized: the 1--by choice not quite part of the value system of a dominant culture, wherever it may be, and the Thou--by necessity not quite part of the value-system of a dominant culture. Whether at home or abroad, the apostle with the true missionary spirit, will become inculturated at all levels, not only by learning the language and culture but by taking the mission of Jesus seriously (Lk 4:18), to the point of insecurity, unpredictability, discomfort, and the rest--not because these things are good, but because they are the burden of the children of God, and that burden has to be lifted by strong hands lest it crush the weak. Only when we share the burden can we begin to walk together--otherwise we exploit or patronize those we are sent to serve. It does not really matter how we are described on our passport or on immigration papers; it doesn't matter very much what actual job we do. But it matters a great deal who we are and who we are becoming. Not everyone can be as visibly marginalized as everyone else, but we can all be detached from things and attached to people. A simpler lifestyle is mandatory, otherwise we are guilty of injustice; and the cultivation of a "marginalized mentality" would seem to be demanded. Whoever is not this much marginalized is not missionary. And whoever is not missionary is not yet fully Christian. Communication and Context The first letter of Peters provides a context of hope and an eschatological dimension for our reflections. Christians are urged to animate society by the witness of good works and their general lifestyle (1 P 2:12, 14; 4:!9), not in order to proselytize but to communicate to the people the promise of God, to receive his glory (I P 4:7-11). They are to be involved(I P 2:11-35: 5:5-8), and to be filled with hope. The letter develops a theology of vocation, and in our own day we surely need to continue, in our programs of formation and beyond, to tease out a theology and praxis for communicating the Good News in an appropriate context--not from ivory towers or groves of academe alone. 360 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 Communication is only possible when there are interlocutors who have not simply a code in common but find the context in which that code can be transmitted and received with minimum interference. First there has to be a meeting; then reciprocity; and finally comprehensibility. Only if we are trained, only if we learn the code and are prepared to listen as well as speak, can we hope to have any communication. But at least the marginalized can begin to talk to the marginalized; they do speak the same language. NOTES ~Decree on the Missionary Activity of the Church, n. 6, in The Documents of I/atican IL W. Abbott (Chapman, 1967), p. 592. 2A helpful article for further reading is: B. A. Joinet, "Integrating the Mission Societies into the Local Church," esp. pp. 271-272, in Mission in Dialogue, edited by Motte and Lang (Orbis Books, 1982), pp. 264-281. 3For this section I have referred to D. Senior and C. Stuhlmueller, The Biblical Foundations of Mission (SCM, 1983), pp. 300-302. Theology and the Magisterium ¯. be faithful to your faith, without falling into the dangerous illusion of separating Christ from his Church, or the Church from her magisterium. "Love for the concrete Church includes fidelity to the testimony of faith and the ecclesiastical magisterium and does not alienate the theologian from his proper task nor deprive it of its irrenounceable consistency. Magistcrium and theology have different functions. Therefore, one cannot be reduced to the other" (Discourse to Theologi-ans of Germany. Alt6tting. Nov. 18, 1980. n. 2: cited in John Paul I1: Address to Theologians ~f Spain. November I. 1982. n. 5). On Being an Ex-Superior Roland J. Faley, T.O.R. Father Faley served as Vicar General (1971-1977) and as Superior General (1977-1983) of the Third Order Regular of St. Francis. During his earlier term, he wrote "Generalates and Social Justice," which appeared in the issue of May, 1976. Currently he is an associate pastor at St. Michael Parish; 3713 Harwood Road, Bedford, TX 76021. ~n the post-conciliar Church considerable attention has been given to the continuing formation of almost all segments of religious life. Little has been said, however, of the lot of the ex-superior. The term is used here in the sense of the major superior in a religious order or congregation. The person who is called to leadership in a religious community today is faced with many difficulties which are unlike those of former times. Authority is called to be more dialogic which can be psychologically draining and certainly more time absorbing. There are new "crises" with which he or she is faced: diminishing vocations, overworked religious, new directions in the community's apostolic thrust, not to speak of the personal problems, brought about by the winds of change, faced by religious of the institute. Major superiors in most communities have a limited term of office. An initial three or four year term is the usual minimum which in many instances leads to reelection. This means a mandate of service of six to eight years. A superior general may very well serve double that length of time. Since there is not usually an apprenticeghip for this type of service (at least prudence would seem to dictate the contrary!), this means that the initial adjustment can be, if not traumatic, at least very demanding. During the length of the term of office it is very difficult for the major superior to meet the need for her or his continuing education, at least over any extended period of time, because of the weighty responsibilities inherent in the office. Vacation time is usually kept to a minimum. Moreover a great deal of mobility is required with superiors dividing their time between the central office and the various houses and 361 362 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 missions of the institute. It is probably safe to say that even the most insensitive religious today, who may have all sorts of difficulties with authority, is forced to admit that this is a service to the community which exacts a very high price. Today men and women are called to leadership roles within an institute at an increasingly earlier age. This of course brings vitality and thrust to the office, but it also means that these religious finish their term of office with a consider-able life span still ahead of them. This is not so in the case of many other eccle-siastical officeholders who hold a position until retirement, at which time they are physically and psychologically at a point of decline. How is the ex-major superior to deal with the future? How is she/he prepared to deal with it? The issue needs to be addressed. The necessity of showing special concern for the psychic health and well-being of religious is today much to the fore and this demand is placed squarely on the shoulders of major superiors. Yet how much attention is given to the superiors' own spiritual, intellectual and psychological needs? Many religious presume that all goes well at the top and never take the time to verify their conclusion. It should be noted that affirmation is not solely a felt need of the people in the ranks. The simple fact is that there is little attention given the major superior, who is presumed to be self-assured, full of confidence and capable of operating somewhat as a robot. Such is not the case. His or her needs are no different from those of others. While seeking to avoid overstatement, one need only reflect on the number of times the major superior becomes the automatic.target for all the ills of the community. More than one person in a leadership role has been subjected to a heated diatribe simply because of the position he or she holds. Moreover their peer group within the institute (other major superiors) are usually far removed geographically and not readily available for consultation and support. It is true that they receive valuable assistance from other major superiors who belong to the national conference of superiors. However, this is often limited to the time of annual meetings or other such gatherings. It is not available on a continuing basis. In recent times much has been done to afford local superiors the chance to meet together regularly. This is becoming increasingly common within institutes today and is helpful in many ways, not the least of which is the decree of peer support which it affords. However, it should be remembered that major superiors do not usually enjoy that same possibility. Members of a provincial or general council can offer a certain measure of support. For this reason it is important that at least some members of the council live in community with the major superior. This affords the major superior someone with whom he or she can share concerns and be assured of confidentiality. But even then it should be noted that people are often elected to the council (and not ordinarily selected by the major superior) for a variety of reasons. Ability and expertise are front and center; compatability with the major superior is not always one of the criteria. In fact, in more than one instance it is sorely lacking. While allowing for exceptions and inevitable variations on the theme, it On Being an Ex-Superior / 36~1 can be said that those called to religious leadership are called to a life of considerable loneliness. They carry much of the burden of their office alone, and, of course, theirs is always the relatively ultimate responsibility. It might well be argued that such isolation should not be the case. Experience however, shows that such does occur and often to the spiritual and human detriment of the person. It should be noted that the office of superior is not that of a professional person who works a nine-to-five day. Many people in society cope with their problems on the basis of the compartmentalization of their life. The hours and locale of work and rest are clearly separated and delineated. In religious life, the role of leadership demands an almost constant availability, the heroics of continuous performance. The needs of religious do not follow the horarium of an ordinary work day. This writer was once told by a former provincial, that after his term of office ended, even the sound of a telephone during the night meant the loss of an entire night's sleep. The crises of night calls had sunk deep into his psyche. State of Mind In what state of mind do superiors reach the end of their mandate? Admittedly for some the transition to a new way of life presents no noticeable difficulty. They move into new assignments with no apparent stress. There are others who evidence no exterior dramatic change but internally suffer a great deal. Still others, after the initial sigh of relief, begin to experience very evident psychological problems. If it can be reasonably posited that most major religious superiors finish their term of office well in advance of retirement age, how are they to address their own future? "Burnout" has become an "in" expression and points to a reality that has become all too common. Many a major superior finishes the term of office in such a state. These persons feel that they have no more to give; they suffer from a pronounced weariness and are psychologically, if not spiritually, drained. The whole experience has proved to be too much. Very often their "wind-down" begins a year before their term ends, during which time the mach!nery of office, for all practical purposes, grinds to a halt. Important decisions, as well as some which are less important, are left to "my successor." There is a pattern of withdrawal from all except essential duties; the only thing anticipated is a "smooth transition." This is a sad picture. It is even sadder when one stops to think of the youth and vigor with which the incumbent began office and then compare it with the signs of age and exhaustion which have come to the fore as the "twilight~ approaches. No new ideas are being generated. The only desire is to leave the office and extend a heartful word of congratulations to the next incumbent. It should be noted well that such a state of "burnout" can have serious spiritual repercussions, even in virtuous and stalwart souls. On the other end of the spectrum are those per,dons who at the end of their ~!64 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 term of office still have a very high level of effectiveness. They are so psycho-logically geared to decision making, to generating ideas, and to the overall role of government that they have trouble bringing themselves to the inevitable "slow down." The adrenalin is still running high. A swift transition to a position wherein there is drastic deescalation in authority almost overnight can produce seriously adverse effects. It is not a question of being hungry for power. It is simply that the sustained level of operation to which the person had become accustomed has suddenly ceased, and this in many instances at a relatively early age. Such a person has specific needs to be addressed which are different, but no less pronounced, than those of the person suffering from "burnout." The Period After Leadership It is the writer's conviction based on experience that an extended period of time should be given an outgoing major superior for spiritual and intellectual renewal before any new assignment is made. It is a principle which is valid quite independent of one's character or personality. For legitimate reasons the person has a need for time and space for readjustment and reentry. A sabbatical year is not in any way excessive. This affords a relaxed atmosphere in which the ex-superior is being revitalized and is not called upon to revitalize others. The interests of individuals certainly will vary. Some ex-superiors may feel strongly the need for spiritual renewal; others may see the need for a return to studies in theology or perhaps the discipline which was pursued prior to major superiorship. Still others will sense a need for pastoral "retooling." In all of this a person should be given as much latitude as needed, with as little external pressure as possible. Not infrequently this period of renewal will be pursued away from the houses of the institute. This can be salutary and whol

Issue 42.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1983. ; Notes on LitUt~!y REVIEW FOR REIAGtOUS ( 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. REVU-:W FOR REI.IGIOt~S is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO, © 1983 by REVIEW FOR RE~.~G~O~JS. 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: add $2.00 per year (postage). For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW I.'OR REI,W,~OtrS: P.O. Box 6070:, Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor May/June, 1983 Volume 42 Number 3 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELtGtOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW t'O~t RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and attic, s not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Kierkegaard on Purity of Heart Paul J. Joncas Rev. Joncas, whose M.Div. is from the Northwestern Lutheran Theological Seminary, is pres-ently pursuing doctoral studies at Fordham University. He describes this paper as an exposition of Kierkegaard's Purity of Heart Is to Will One Thing in which each discourse carries a consistent theme of Complexit'y and Simplicity as opposing modes of life. Tracing each of these modes through the book provides a picture of the style of life that Kierkegaard regards as exemplary. Rev. Joncas may be addressed at 102 Washington St.; Morristown, NJ 07960. When a woman makes an altar cloth, so far as she is able, she makes everyflower as lovely as the graceful flowers of the field, as far as she is able, every star as sparkling as the glistening stars of the night. She withholds nothing, but uses the most precious things she possesses. She sells off every other claim upon her life that she may purchase the most uninterrupted and favorable time of the day and night for her one and only, for her beloved work. But when the cloth is finished and put to its sacred use, then she is deeply distressed if someone shouM make the mistake of looking at her art, instead of at the meaning of the cloth; or make the mistake of looking at a defect, instead of at the meaning of thk cloth. For she could not work the sacred meaning into the cloth itself, nor could she sew it on the cloth as though it were one more ornament. This meaning really lies in the beholder and in the beholder's understanding, if he, in the endless distance of the separation above himself and above his own self, has completely forgotten the needle-woman and what was hers to do. It was allowable, it was proper, it was duty, it was a precious, duty, it was the highest happiness of all for the needlewoman to do e~brything in order to accomplish what was hers to do; but it was a trespass against God, an insulting misunderstanding of the poor needlewoman, when someone looked wrongly and saw what 321 322 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 was only there, not to attract attention to itself, but rather so that its omission would not distract by drawing attention to itself.1 The needlewoman of this story serves as an example of what Kierkegaard sets out to develop in his book Purity of Heart Is to Will One Thing. In her concern for the work that is set before her the needlewoman approaches it with a reverence, straightforwardness, unity of thought and purpose, and simplicity that speaks not of her, but of the duty which she was fulfilling. The viewer who looked on her work as something more than she had intended is the example of what it is to be guilty, as we all are, of double-mindedness and thus unable to see the beauty of what lies before them. It is my purpose in this paper to examine the guilt of the viewer in terms of a life of Complexity. This life is filled with double-mindedness, duplicity, evasion, attention to "the crowd," and a denial of the self. All of this is set up by pride which presents the person with many difficult pitfalls. There is also another side to what Kierkegaard has to say in his book which will be discussed in this paper. That is the story of the needlewoman, or the person who wills one thing. This is evidenced by a life of Simplicity. This life unfolds as one which is a unity, through which the "individual" is capable to "will one thing" and have a knowledge of self that enables the person to take risks. The result of this life is a sense of humility which is transparent, pointing to the "Good." I will discuss these two opposing modes of life under the titles 1 have assigned to them: Complexity and Simplicity. After describing how they each have an influence upon us, 1 will conclude with some more general observa-tions about the two categories and their relationship to one another. Complexity Throughout his book, Kierkegaard remains true to the Lutheran notion that humanity by nature is sinful. This sinfulness is lived out within the tem-poral order of the creation, and has a natural resistance to the "Eternal." In resisting the Eternal we are confronted with a multiplicity of life choices that may give the appearance of leading us to the "Good," but they are only delusions and actually hide the true, the Eternal from the seeker. We are led down the blind path of complexity that cuts us off from that for which we were created and we attempt to postpone what we know to be inevitable in our journey toward God. Alas. the temporal order and the press of busyness believe that eternity is so far away. And yet not even the foremost professional theatrical producer has ever had all in such readiness for the stage and for the change of scenes as eternity has all in readiness for time: all--even to the least detail, even to the most significant word that is spoken; has all in readiness in each instant--although eternity delays? Busyness, the continual search for meaning in the temporal order, the continual search for permanence in what is only transitory, the constant run- Kierkegaard on Purity of Heart ning in search of what is already before the seeker. It looms over the entirety of life and "clouds the heart, keeping it ever unknowing and bound to the tem-poral. We look on the procession of life and see the changes that occur in relation to the temporal. The fear that feeds the life of Complexity reminds us over and over that we are approaching the end. We turn in upon ourselves and try to find the key to not changing. We live with the false hope of delaying that which, in view of the Eternal, never happens. "For in relation to the Eternal, a man ages neither in the sense of time nor in the sense of an accumulation of past events."3 In.relation to the Eternal we are set free from the burdens of temporal existence and begin to see the Good and in turn the Good becomes visible through us. This temporal life is characterized by double-mindedness which draws us into an endless maze of dead ends that prevent us from apprehending the Good, the Eternal. Kierkegaard calls this double-mindedness by many names: pride, passion, denial of sell fear, cleverness, self-deceit, despair, impatience, the "crowd," evasion, and false humility. They are names of conditions we all know intimately. Kierkegaard shows us his magisterial knowledge of the human condition by naming those things which we all share in common, those things which tie us all together in our state of sin, and lead us down the path away from God. In order to understand the gu.ilt of the above mentioned viewer, and ourselves, we need to take a close look at the life of Complexity and the conditions that define our human situation. Pride 1 begin with pride because it appears in Kierkegaard's system that pride sets us up to fall into the other traps of double-mindedness. Once we have established what we consider to be our worth in the world we can begin to evaluate all our other actions in light of this worth. In this fashion the lazy man always has a disproportionate power of imagination. He thinks immediately how he will establish himself, and how fine it will be for him when now this and now that is done: he is less given to thinking that he should do this and that. And in reflection this logks very inviting, but when he must step out upon the road (for reflection is up above the road) then all is changed.4 Once the road is entered upon and the true demands of the journey are seen, as prideful people we begin to reassess our position and conclude that the course we are undertaking is act.ually beneath us. Pride plays to our predilec-tion to overvalue ourselves. It whispers to us ever so quietly, "Oh, you poor soul, just see what the world is asking of you. You have more important things to be involved with. Why go about wasting your time on what is trivial?" In listening to this voice we become further enamored with ourselves and we fall prey to grandiose dreams of what we can give to the worl~d, as if we had anything of our own to give. He wills that the Good shall triumph through him. that he shall be the instrument, he 3~4 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 the chosen one. He does not desire to be rewarded by the world--that he despises: nor by men--that he looks down upon. And yet he does not wish to be an unprofitable servant. The reward which he insists upon is a sense of pride and in that very demand is his violent double-mindednessP We exhibit our sinfulness since we do not just want to be an instrument of the Good in the world, but we want to be the instrument. We insist that God's will should be our will, his way should be our way--and we stretch the dis-tance separating us from God even further than before. That is the only power we have. The power to drive ourselves further away from God and think that we are drawing ever nearer. Kierkegaard does not let up in his insistence that the greatest damage we do is, above all, to ourselves. The grandness of our dreams, to be more than what we actually are, is the banner of our sinfulness that we carry into eternity. Pride widens the gulf between humanity and God by its pervasive nature: It creeps into every facet of our existence and tricks us into thinking how right we are when we are actually wrong. This is the self-deceit which pride leads us toward, and after we have already turned our backs on God, we begin to turn the tables on ourselves. For when hate, and anger, and revenge, and despondency, and melancholy, and despair, and fear of the future, and reliance on the world, and trust in oneself, and pride that infuses itself even into sympathy, and envy that even mingles itsdf with friendship, and that inclination that may have changed but not for the better: when these dwell in a man--when was it without the deceptive excuse of ignorance?. This ignorance is called self-deceit. : And to be ignorant of the fact that there is one thing and only one thing, and that only one thing is necessary, is still to be in self-deception.6 Self-deceit exists as a precipitate of pride. It is the only thing that is left after the ashes rendered by pride are sifted. Self-deceit has a way of turning everything upside down and it tries to give us the excuse we need when our efforts come to nothing. This overturning by self-deceit is much like the words of St. Paul "For the good that 1 wish, I do not do; but 1 practice the very evil that I do not wish" (Rm 7:19).7 This self-deceit has a way of masking our efforts so they may appear noble to ourselves when they actually bring about harm. Not only harm to others, but harm to ourselves. We are open to the suggestions of the world and hear a voice that appeals to our pride and thus we deceive ourselves again. But there is a wisdom which is not from above, but is earthly and fleshly and devilish. It has discovered this common human weakness and indolence; it wants to be helpful. It perceives that all depends upon the will and so it proclaims loudly, "Unless it wills one thing, a man's life is sure to become one of wretched mediocrity, of pitiful misery. He must will one thing regardless of whether it be good or bad. He must will one thing for therein lies a man's greatness.TM It is in the willingness to do even what we know to be bad that we start the process of selling out to whatever whim or fancy the world throws before us and we enter deeper into the self-deception that has already grasped us. The greater our self-deception the more we become oblivious to the "Good" and we enter into the next realm that dominates our earthly life--fear. Kierkegaard on Purity of Heart / 325 Fear And spiritually understood there is a ruinous illness, namely not to fear what a man should fear: the sacredness of modesty, God in the heavens, the command of duty, the voice of conscience, the accountability to eternity.9 Our pride and self-deception have led us to the point of forgetting the things which we know to be desirable and the absence of these elements in our lives is not viewed as a great loss. The eternal element of our life is gone and we no longer understand what true fear is all about. Our concept of fear becomes entangled with what we perceive to be punishment. "For punishment is indeed not what a man should fear. He should fear to do wrong.''~° The concern we have is not for our eternal life but for our temporal life. "Yet double-mindedness seldom dwells on eternity's punishment. The punishment it fears is more often understood in an earthly and temporal sense."~l How often do we find ourselves doing things, not out ofthe goodness of our hearts, but out of fear for the punishment that may be inflicted upon us if we do not do it. This type of fear seems to be inbred from childhood when parents gladly point to the threat of punishment in order to get even a small degree of cooperation from the child. A full life cannot be lived from a defensive posture and God's attempts to break through our self-protection fall on ears that are deaf. Kierkegaard is trying to show that in taking away the will for the "Good" the person lives a second-class life that inhibits the individual in all rela-tionships with and in the world. What a terrible existence it would be to fear every action we take not knowing if we will receive accolades or be stoned. Kierkegaard rightfully puts this condition into the category of illness. But then, in a spiritual sense, there is another illness, a still more destructive one: to fear-what a man should not and ought not to fear. The first illness is defiance and obstinacy and willfulness. The second is cowardice and servility and hypocrisy.~' We are slaves to our fear and jump to its command. We are cowards in our actions, afraid to take any risks that may bring about punishment. We are hypocrites who smile in order to disguise our fear, thinking that we are being judged by the world while at the same time we are judging and condemning it. Kierkegaard wants to make clear the incredible power that sin can have over us in this world, it has a way of creeping into our lives silently, and just as silently tears our lives apart. We soon start to exhibit another means of self-defense which is not to risk anything. Another says, "1 have not the strength to risk all." Again evasion, an evasion by the aid of the word "all." For the Good is quite capable of reckoning and computing its demand in relation to the strength that this man has.~-~ We are unwilling to take risks because we cannot adequately judge the scope of the task. We do not truly know the risk that we are called upon to take since we stand in fear of what may happen to us if we do take the risk. Our lives are paralyzed by fear and that which is in us to lead us to the Good begins to atrophy. The result is to take even more desperate measures that lead us further away from the Good. 326 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 Cleverness The above mentioned evasion is not solely a device to escape risk but also starts us on ihe road to thinking we are very clever. By the help of evasion, namely, one does not come into danger, and neither does he lose his honor by running away in danger--on the contrary one does not come into danger--that is one advantage. And one wins great honor as being especially clever-- that is a second advantage.~4 In our cleverness we have the ability to weave a complex of schemes that isolate us from the world. We are able to construct an ivory tower out of our plotting and slowly raise ourselves up in the eyes of the people who see us. Our cleverness allows us to look down upon the world below and gives us the illusion of achievement. The other poor souls we look down upon are seen as a threat, but as a threat that is a long way off. These same schemes also play into one of the primary traps of cleverness. Alas, there is in every man a power, a dangerous and at the same time a great power. This power is cleverness. Cleverness strives continually against the commitment.~5 Since we are not committed we give the appearance of being free but that is all we have, the appearance of freedom. We have no idea of what we may have lost in exchange for this appearance. We are not free as a true Christian enjoys freedom. We live in a cloud that, like a drug, keeps us temporarily sedated until it dissipates. The lack of commitment through cleverness does not affect the temporal life alone. Kierkegaard sees an even greater danger ahead. If he uses cleverness to hinder commitment to the Eternal, he is double-minded. He is and he remains double-minded, even if temporal help did come and he did revel in the Cleverness by which he managed his shrewd escape: yes, one should still believe that it was a calamity that he cleverly managed to evade commitment to the Eternal. Com-mitment to the Eternal is the only true salvation.~6 We have now achieved the dubious distinction of having temporarily escaped from a moment of danger and at the same time cutting ourselves off ¯ from salvation. What is left for us? Do we simply wander aimlessly through time being free from any commitment or does something else arise to take the place of this commitment to the Eternal? Kierkegaard would say that there is something else that fills in the gap created by lack of commitment and that is the passion that lives inside each of us. For if passion continues in a man, it changes his life into nothing but instants and as passion cunningly serves its deluded master, it gradually gains ascendancy until the master serves it like a blind serf.17 We are now slaves to our passions and are led about without regard for the people around us. Our passions consume us like a ravenous wolf that leaves the refuse behind. What could be left for us once we have descended to these depths? It seems that we have lost the last thread of our humanity, but there is still something more towards which Kierkegaard points the reader. Kierkegaard on Purity of Heart Despair Now that we have been blinded by our passions we no longer see what lies before us. We are now ready for the final descent. We have left the world behind and our attention is turned to the only place left for us, that is, totally into ourselves. When the attention has been focused within, it brings with it the danger of not being able or willing to accept what is found therein. It is as if our attention has been focused to the point of a laser and it holds the potential to destroy. In our nonacceptance we find that we are "at variance with our-selves." Kierkegaard uses the.following example of the gravity he sees in this moment of "variance." ¯. at each man's birth there comes into being an eternal vocation for him, expressly for him. To be true to himself in relation to this eternal vocation is the highest thing a man can practice, and. as that most profound poet has said: "Self-love is not so vile a sin as self-neglecting." Then there is but one fault, one offense: disloyalty to his own self or the. denial of his own better self.~8 We have now reached the point where there is nothing else to which we can turn. We have reached the point in our "double-mindedness" when we can go no further. We have reached the point of despair. "Is not despair simply double-mindedness?'n9 In denying ourselves have we not abandoned ourselves, who we are, our purpose for existence? Will you in double-mindedness of mind despair? Have you considered what it is to despair? Alas it is to deny that God is love! Think that over properly, one who despairs abandons himself (yes, so you think); nay, he abandons God!20 There it is! The terminal point for the life of complexity, the abandonment of God! There is nowhere else to turn. We could turn to the "crowd" but that is just a delaying tactic., a dead end. "For many fools do not make a wise man, and the crowd is doubtful recommendation for a cause.TM In Kierkegaard's estimation, to follow this mode of life is to take the path to eternal death, to be forever outside of the love of God. Now that the discussion of the life of Complexity has been finished as Kierkegaar&has outlined it in his book it is possible to look at the opposing mode of life--Simplicity. Simplicity It would be a dangerous mistake to think that the life of Simplicity is a life characterized by naivete. There is no room for an unsophisticated meandering through life. That would only serve as an invitation to the elements of double-mindedness in the world, alerting them that a pigeon is on the loose. A life of Simplicity has many facets to it bht it is "simple" in the fact that all of these facets are present for the cause of the' Good. The Good is the all-consuming goal of the person who lives a life of Simplicity. Our every atten-tion and energy is directed toward the Good and finds its telos in eternity. The move from Complexity to Simplicity is not just a shifting of gears but rather: 3211 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 It is indeed like a changing of raiment to lay off manyness, in order rightly to center down upon one thing: to interrupt the busy course of activity, in order to put on the quiet of contemplation and be at one with oneself. And this being at one with oneself is the simple festival garment of the feast that is the condition of admittance. The many-hess, one may see with a dispersed mind, see something of it, see it in passing, see it with half closed eyes, with a divided mind, see it and indeed not see it. In the rush of busyness, one may be anxious over many {hings, begin many things, do many things at once, and only half do them all. But one cannot confess without this at-oneness with oneself.22 Kierkegaard in giving his advice for preparation to confess points out that it is necessary to leave behind the manyness that presses in and confuses us in our moment of examination. It is necessary that we become focused, simple in our thoughts, in order to come to our confession as whole persons. His notion of "a changing of raiment" is not merely to do so for the moment, but rather, in the fashion of metanoia, it is a complete change of direction. Life is trans-formed and our life takes on the same shape as that of the above-mentioned needlewoman with all of its attendant expressions, The life of Simplicity is not as easy to dissect as that of Complexity. The categories that exist in this life overlap a great deal, with each one helping strengthen the other. Since they all combine to form a unity, a oneness of purpose, a simplicity of expression, any attempt to categorize wouid be arbi-trary and would not remain true to the method of presentation used by Kierkegaard. In view of this, the life of Simplicity will be dealt with as a whole. It is a mode of life that stands in opposition to the life of Complexity and as such it does not exist as a positive response to a negative stimulus. It is a distinct mode that stands on its own without need of outside impetus beyond the call of God to the sinner. In Kierkegaard's schema of the life of Simplicity it becomes clear that the style of life we live reflects the internal unity or disunity we are currently experiencing. True Simplicity reflects an attention to life and the things that are necessary to be done and it does not allow us to be overcome by the miasma of Complexity. We are able to stay in the world without needing to be exclusive in our relationships. We find what is good in life and participate in it fully. Do you live in such a way that this consciousness is able to secure the time and quiet and liberty of action to penetrate every relation of your life? This does not demand that you withdraw from life, from an honorable calling, from a happy domestic life. On the contrary, it is precisely that consciousness which will sustain and clarify and illuminate what you are to do in the relations of life. You should not withdraw and sit brooding over your eternal accounting. To do this is to deserve something further to account for. You will more and more readily find time to perform your duty and your task, while concern over your eternal responsibility will hinder you from being "busy" and busily having a hand in everything possible--an activity that can best be called: time-wasting.23 As we have seen, busyness for Kierkegaard is another expression of double-mindedness. This double-mindedness captures our will and makes the will captive to its perceptions of time available and the talents that we have at our command. We have a distorted view of the task at hand and soon think we Kierkegaard on Purity of Heart / 329 do not have the time needed to do the Good. The life of Simplicity will not stand for this sort of distraction because it is God who calls us to this life and it is God who is left behind in pursuit of the manyness of life. But to will one thing, genuinely to will the Good, as an individual to will to hold fast to God, which things each person without exception is capable of doing, this is what unites.24 Unity is important in order for us to continue in willing the Good. Without this unity it is not possible for our life to become a reflection of the Good nor is it possible for us to "unconditionally serve the Good in action." As persons who are united, there is an awareness of the freedom in our lives for service and commitment to the Good. We no longer fear for what may happen to us since we are now united to the Good, and our concerns have been turned from the temporal to the Eternal. "He that wills the Good in truth even hopes for the punishment;"~5 and this serves as an indication that we have beenset free from the fear that has prevented service and commitment to the Good. Once freed from fear we are empowered to act in a manner that is consistent with our new understanding of duty in relation to the Good. If, then a man in truth wills the Good, then he must be willing to do all for it or he must be willing to suffer all for it.~6 Our commitment to the Good is visible through action or suffering. Suffer-ing in this context does not have the same power it holds over the double-minded person. Suffering is understood in a different way because we now live in a new relationship to the world. It is not something thrust upon an unwilling victim. It is accepted in the knowledge that what happens to us in this world is insignificant when viewed in relation to the Good. When the sufferer, on the other hand, willingly takes up his appointed sufferings, he is willing to suffer all for the Good, that is, in order that the Good may be victorious in him.27 Suffering is not a badge worn before others in order to win accolades. It is worn as a simple garment, It is quietly endured and quickly forgotten." When we suffer for the Good we know deep within ourselves that it is the Good which is being accomplished through us and that our God is right here with us in our suffering. ~ Oh, you sufferer, alone and abandoned as you are by the generation to which you belong, know that you are not abandoned by God, your creator. Everywhere you are surrounded by his understanding ~,hich offers itself to you at each moment. In it you unite your will to the Good. And the edifying contemplation is always ready to remind you of that presence; and its very existence is a source of security to the living.28 As sufferers who "will one thing" we live in the world knowing that what we are experiencing will be long forgotten in ~he realm of the Eternal,, and in this knowledge we receive consolation while still in the temporal order. This is the only reward we are willing to accept because the "understanding of God" is sufficient. There is nothing more necessary since, in time, everything will be 33[~ [ Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 finished for us in the temporal order. If we are forgotten by the world, that is no problem. If we are rejected by others, that is no problem. If we lose all that we have in service to the Good, that is no problem. For this world's memory is like the moment: a series of moments. Eternity's memory, that he is certain of. When he leaves the world, he leaves nothing behind him, he takes all with him, he loses nothing, he gains all--for "God is all to him.'~9 The total focus of energy is toward God and God alone. The will is a complete unity with itself and with the Good which resides in the Eternal. We have now reached the point when our unity also reflects a purity of thought and desire. When this point is reached, Kierkegaard begins to talk about the roles of hope, faith, and love in light of "death's decision." And it is here that the evidence of a life that is truly Christian may be seen. Yet sad as it is with the wish, how joyful it is with hope! For there is a hope that is born and dies; a shortlived hope, that tomorrow is forgotten; a childish hope, that old age does not recognize; a hope that one dies away from. But then--in death, in death's decision, a hope is born in death. By this hope the sufferer, under the pain of the wish, is committed to the Good. So it is with the hope in which the sufferer, as though from afar off, reaches out toward the Eternal . With faith it is still more joyful. For there is a faith that disappoints and vanishes; a faith that is lost and is repented of; there is a faith, which, when it droops is like death. But then--in death, in death's decision, a faith is won that does not disappoint, that is not repented of, that does not die: it seizes the Eternal and holds fast to it. By this faith, under the pain of the wish, the sufferer is committed to the Good. So it is with faith in which the sufferer draws the Eternal nearer to himself . But with love it is the most joyous of all. For there is a love, that blazes up and is forgotten; there is a love, that unites and divides--a love until death. But then--in death, in death's decision, there is born a love that does not flame up, that is not equivocal, that is not--until death, but beyond death, a love that endures.~° All of life is understood in terms of the Eternal and the very being of the individual is grounded in eternity. All of the trappings of this world are seen for what they are in their impermanence. A new permanence is given to be understood by us in our new found unity and depth of being. We no longer seek for anything for ourselves in this world and it is that which seeks nothing for itself that is truly transparent and pure. The Good alone is visible in and through us. The entirety of our being is bonded with the Good. For commitment to the Good is a whole-souled decision, and a man cannot, by the craft and the flattery of his tongue, lay hold of God while his heart is far away. No, for since God is spirit and truth, a man can only draw near to him by sincerity, by willing to be holy, as he is holy: by purity of heart. Purity of heart: it is a figure of speech that compares the heart to the sea, and why just to this?. On this account we compare the heart with the sea, because the purity of the sea lies in its constancy of depth and transparency)~ To achieve true depth of mind, true depth of will, true depth in unity, is to be transparent as Kierkegaard regards the true Christian to be. Everything is done for the sake of the Good ~ind it is, at the same time, a complete uniting of the will with the Eternal, and the will has reached its telos with the Eternal. This is the end point of the life of Simplicity, bringing us to wholeness in the Kierkegaard on Purity of Heart / 331 presence of God as opposed to losing "self" in the manyness of the "crowd" as in the life of Complexity. Conclusion Kierkegaard wrote his book as a collection of addresses which could be read at different times, with the reader still finding them of value. The result is that many of the same themes are used over and over. Although each section has a distinct flavor, it is also connected to all of the others. This makes it difficult to identify any clear line of development from the beginning to the end of the book. However, general comments about both styles of life can be made, now that the pattern within each mode has been made clear. For the life of Complexity there is a general shape that could be described as an inward and downward curve. This characterizes a concern to find mean-ing within the person. There appears to be a reliance upon the natural abilities of a person as a means of self-justification. This self-justification is indicative of the notion that everything a person needs for life can be found just by looking inward hard enough to locate it all. Schleiermacher could be used as an example of a theologian who placed a great amount of emphasis on the person being able to find God by looking inward. This mode of life is dependent on the belief that there is an intrinsic value to the person as a separate entity. Once the search is conducted and, as Kierkegaard believes~ the person comes up empty in the inward search, there is a sudden reversal of direction, and the search continues by looking to other people. It is hoped that what could not be found within the person may be found in the "crowd." Once again the empha-sis is on what human beings are capable of doing for themselves, and to Kierkegaard that is unacceptable. The natural shape of the life of Simplicity would be outward and upward. This time there is an emphasis on God, who is outside of humanity, as the basis of movement on the path toward the Good. God provides all that is necessary for the journey and God gives the person value in his sight and at the same time in the eyes of the world. There is no need for justification beyond that which God has given. In the life of Simplicity God is sufficient for the person who "wills one thing." Movement toward the Good is a long, slow process since it is not natural to humanity. On the other hand, movement toward double-mindedness comes easily since it does not fit our sinful nature like a well-worn glove. The tension between the two of them is intense because Complexity has a way of imitating expressions of the Good. Life is not looked upon as a black and white matter. Life has immense areas of grey that the person depends upon God to be led through. There is another contribution that Kierk.egaard makes in his book. There, he preserves the integrity of what it is to be human and, at the same time, acknowledges the absolute sovereignty of God. We do not need to be more than what we are as persons. There is no call to greatness beyond the greatness 339 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 that we have as creations of God. The holiness of our existence is a gift of God to us. We are attracted to God because of the love he has shown for us through his Son. Our humanness has been blessed, and yet God has not been com-promised in any way. Many of the theologians of Kierkegaard's day looked for justification within humanity or within creation as represented by the natural world, but this was not something Kierkegaard could accept. He took on the difficult task of pointing to God who stands over and above all creation, and to humanity, which held a special place in the created order. Kierkegaard was clearly Lutheran in all of his basic presuppositions, and remained consistent in this position. I would suggest that an area for further study would be to see how these modes of life carry over into Kierkegaard's other writings and perhaps into his own life. NOTES ~Soren Aabye Kierkegaard, Purity of Heart Is to Will One Thing. trans. Douglas V. Steere (New York: Harper and Brothers Publishers, 1948), pp. 27-28. 21bid. p. 107. 31bid. p. 38. 41bid. p. 116. 5Ibid. p. I00. 7New American Standard Btble. 9Ibid. p. 80. ~2Ibid. p. 8 I. '~Ibid. pp. 126-127. ~81bid. p. 140. 2~Ibid. p. 191. 241bid. p. 206. ~71bid. p. 148. 3°Ibid. p. 150-151. ~Ibid. p. 52. SKierkegaard, Purity of Heart. p. 63. ~°Ibid. p. 79. '~Ibid. p. 88. ~31bid. p. 129. ~4Ibid. p. 127. ~6Ibid. p. 168. ~71bid. p. 51. ~91bid. p. 61. "-°Ibid. p. 151. nlbid, p. 47. "-31bid. p. 197. ~lbid. p. 93. ~6lbid. p. 122. 2Slbid. p. 158. ~91bid. p. 147. 311bid. p. 176. Withstanding Sunbelt Sectarianism David K. O'Rourke, O.P. Father O'Rourke is Associate Director of the Family Life Ministry for the Diocese of Oakland, CA and Adjunct Professor of Pastoral Theology at the Graduate Theological Union of Berkeley. He may be addressed: 2446 Estand Way: Pleasant Hill, CA 94523. In recent months two of America's leading scholars have made statements that bring the current direction of education for religious life seriously into question. Both of them, professors at the University of California at Berkeley, speak out of personal scholarship and accomplishments so respected that their comments merit a hearing. Speaking at the annual meeting of the American Association of Colleges in Boston, Professor Charles Muscatine, a Chaucer scholar and, from our point of view even more important, one of the most respected university educators in the United States, noted that American education has abandoned its proper role of teaching students how to make ethical judgments in favor of a concern with technical skill teaching. Speaking of the bachelor's degree, Professor Muscatine said it has become a "marvelous convenience for a mediocre society, putting passive acceptance.ahead of questioning, and propagating the danger-oias myth that technical skills are more important than ethical reasoning." His address received favorable comment in a New York Times editorial.~ The editorial continued "What am lherefor? is the student's and the teacher's perpetual question. To gain and give life skills and a glimpse of life's larger possibilities seems an appropriate answer to each of them." in a recent article in Commonweal~ Robert Bellah, Ford Professor of Sociology and Sociology Department chairman, described a structural change in American religion. Using categories of Ernst Troeltsch, which are com-monly used by students of religion, he notes that there has been a shift from the "church type" of religion, which ". we may briefly characterize as an 333 3311 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 organic conception of the religious institution for which the defining metaphor is the Pauline image of the Body of Christ," to the "sect type" which ". views the Church primarily as a voluntary association of believers." and which sees itself"., primarily as the gathered elect and focuses on the purity of those within . " This shift, he says, parallels other shifts. There is a shift from the civic and religious ideals which provided the underpinnings to the social ameliorization we saw in our past history in the United States to an "ever growing dominance of bureaucratic individualism." There is the shift in American political power from the eastern establishment to the sunbelt capitalists of Texas and California. And there is the shift in importance from the heavy industries of the north and east to the "technologically innovative industries of the south and west." I believe that we can synthesize the statements of these two scholars into a picture of a culture, both religious and civil, that is changing the religious life we see herein the west. It is also producing the candidates for religious life we are receiving here. And because of California's influence through its control of the media it is influencing the entire United States. The dominant influence in religion is a view of church life that is religiously subjective, personally pious, politically uninvolved, technically skilled and culturally unlettered. I believe that this view can be summarized as sunbelt sectarianism. Living, teaching and ministering in Berkeley for the past fifteen years, I have had the opportunity to see the rise of this new phenomenon. In October of 1966 I joined ten other Dominicans in establishing the first Catholic com-munity at Berkeley's pioneering Graduate Theological Union. Since that day hundreds of other men and women have come here for studies. The Berkeley venture has, itself, become a model for religious, theological and pastoral studies and formation. Those studies and formation, I believe, are more and more becoming a mastery of those same technical skills that Professor Musca-tine described, and less and less a development of the art of ethical reasoning which he sees as the goal of all education. Make no mistakeabout it, the level of skills he is referring to is high, in-deed. The University of California has few equals in its ability to train men and women in the scientific, social and professional skills that make our society run. However, as the Times editorial suggests, it is far less well equipped to teach its students how to answer the question "What am I here for?" The ministerial skills we are teaching in our pastoral training centers are also of high caliber. The art of working in the community as an effective leader and on the one-to-one level is taught at least as well as in other professions, like medicine and law. Current understanding of Scripture is well taught. Tech-niques in liturgical design and performance are also taught. The broader questions, however, like the one posed by the editorial writer of the Times are not explored in a way which allows the Church's traditional answerings of the question to be brought into the discussion. 1 do not dehy Withstanding Sunbelt Sectarianism / 335 that they are answered. I suggest that they are answered from within the context of sunbelt sectarianism. They are not explored within the context of church as Body of Christ. The questions are answered in light of the individual's personal religious experience, frequently an experience that led to entering into religious life. They are not explored in the light of the Catholic theological tradition to which the individual is exposed after his or her arrival into theological educa-tion. The latter may be used to establish some theological foundations for ministry. It is not really used, in my experience, to establish the theological foundations for the minister. These remain what they were when the man or woman arrived. Professor Bellah points out that each of the definitions of church that he uses in his article, including the idea of the organic church and sectarianism, has found a welcome within the Christian tradition. That is true. But within the Roman Catholic tradition the view of the Church as the Body of Christ comes closer to the religious and theological tradition that lies at the heart of the Church's life than do any of the other views of church. I am suggesting, it should he obvious, that we religious have followed much the same route as the universities. In our case, however, the deviation from what we should be about is more serious. An argument could possibly be made for universities devoted to transmitting technical skills. Less°argument can be made for Catholic religious orders that are not concerned, first and foremost, with answering the question "What am I here for?" and trying to answer that question, at least in part, by drawing on the Church's theological tradition. I would like to look a bit more into the situation described by Professors Bellah and Muscatine, especially as it can be related to education for ministry and religious life, by examining three sets of opposed values drawn from their statements. The opposed values are skill mastery versus life purpose explora-tion; creativity versus passivity; ethical reasoning versus affective moral intuitionism. 1 will begin discussing skill mastery versus life purpose exploration by illustrating the differences with a story. When I first began my theological studies many years ago I was taught by one of the country's leading moral theologians. Nearing retirement age, he went on instead to become editor for the moral theology section of the Catholic Encyclopaedia. In his years as a teacher he was respected for his ability to bring speculative principles to bear on concrete issues. We were all gathered in the lecture hall for the first class of the year, and he entered the room and climbed the three steps to the large platform from which the professor lectured. Since this was the first day of class we were all waiting for him to outline the course of lectures he was to deliver. Instead he did something quite different. After walking back and forth, and pausing to look out the window obviously thinking about something, he turned and just looked at us. Then he began to talk. "Increasingly in profes- 336 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 sional education, and commonly in seminaries, it is the practice to give the student enough training and adequate skills so that he can go about his work with competence and confidence. Here," he added, "we are trying to do some-thing fundamentally different. We are trying to provide you with a framework, conceptual and personal, within which you will be able to make sense of your own lives. Then we hope that you will be able to go out and help others do the same." And then, without further comment, he began his lecture. The difference between mastering a curriculum and making sense of life can also be seen as the difference between fitting into a world of someone else's design and establishing the moral and ethical parameters of your own world. I believe that this difference is also the difference between a skilled technician and a religious leader. 'Within the context of religious education it is the difference between accepting someone else's priorities for life and recognizing the need to establish your own, and ~oing this not as a duty but as a real, personal need. Professor Muscatine's statement, translated into the context of pastoral training and religious education, would say that specialization as a self-defini-tion has replaced religious and ethical probing as a means to self-definition. And skill training for ministry has replaced learning the art of making ethical judgments as the model for education itself. The second set of opposed values, passivity versus creativity, follows from the first. The individual learning technical skills begins his learning recognizing that what he wants is the possession of another, the mastery of a technique. What is of value, the particular skill or technique, is in someone else's hands, and the student works to gain what he does not yet have. The message communicated by the learning medium values the technical master's knowl-edge, not the student's lack of that knowledge. Life-purpose clarification, on the other hand, values the student's ability to probe and explore, and assumes that, here and now, he or she possesses creative abilities. In the process of trying to make sense of life all are equal participants. While some are further along in the attempt, and the teacher, in principle, has achieved some mastery of these human arts, all have the oppor-tunity to be creatively involved. The third set of opposed values is ethical reasoning versus affective moral intuitionism. Learning to reason ethically, as opposed to an affectively directed intuition of right and wrong, let it be said, is a supremely difficult task. Deciding what to do through a rational process of assessing the proper goals and the means to those goals is a far cry from deciding, based on feelings. In effect, it means abandoning a non-effort--intuiting right and wrong, based on how the individual feels about it--for the difficult effort of establishing internally coherent and systematically logical principles of human action. 1 submit that this is an effort of prime intellectual and personal asceticism. I believe that in our education for religious life and pastoral work we are institutionalizing affective intuitionism in the place of ethical reasoning, passiv- Withstanding Sunbelt Sectarianism ity in the place of creativity, and skill mastery in the place of life-purpose exploration. I am not so naive as to suggest that the replaced values were realized goals in the past. What I am saying is that they were stated values. Further, I believe that we are moving from these stated values to the newer ones in response to the influence of the current view of the Church as sect. We are living with a view of church in which it is effectively defined, as Professor Bellah describes it, as a voluntary association of believers. The difference between the two views can both be pictured and symbolized by the differing means of entry into each. In the Church seen as the body of Christ new members are baptized into a community of believers and become members of Christ. They are members in the root meaning of the word, a physical part of an organic body. In the Church seen as sect the new members make a decision for Christ, and are members in virtue of that decision. The membership is not organic as much as voluntary. The new values we are institutionalizing in our training for ministry and religious life fit comfortably within the definition of church as sect. They are at odds with the view of church as an inclusive body, the Body of Christ. The values being replaced fit comfortably within the view of church as Body of Christ. They do not fit within the functioning of a church defined as sect. There are obvious advantages to the view of the Church as sect. It draws clear lines between those who will live by its values and those who do not. So it is equipped to judge those who belong and those who do not. And in an age of clashing values, it helps to know who is with you and who is not. The function-ing of the Church as sect fosters clarity of values. Greys are washed out to the advantage of the stronger blacks and whites. There are also disadvantages. A church which distinguishes between the elect and the sinners will leave the sinners behind. Placing a value on the process of making that distinction will also surface a means to do so. Since the traditional theology of the church maintains that the distinction cannot be made, an extra-theological means will have to be found, like an affective in-tuitionism. And such systems, like a zealot's hunches, can prove unreasonable. The organic view of the Church, the Church seen according to the Pauline model of the Body of Christ, has many disadvantages. It is an inclusive Church, and an inclusive church is morally muddy. Combine this moral muddiness with the emphasis on moral decision making which I advocate, and which I admit is an art very difficult to master and beyond many people, and it can be a disheartening combination. It means that we will live beset by the suspicion that our moral decisions may not be definitive. But it is also quite possible that it is this very suspicion which has led religious leaders in the past to stress the importance of learning how to make ethical decisions. Technical skills can be mastered in a way that ethical decision ' making cannot. And this fact may lead some to see skill mastery as a more worthwhile goal than moral decision making. Our current education for reli-gious life and ministry seems to embody this view. But 1 would suggest that 3311 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 religious leadership can be,benefited more by an emphasis on moral decision making, an emphasis that is more at home in the Church seen as Body of Christ than in the Church seen as sect. NOTES I Jan. 22, 1982 2Dec. 3, 1982 The Coming Down ~Going up to Jerusalem . . ." I got used to-- There was such a dearness to it. A digging-in, yes-- A putting-t he-face-to-t he-wind . Going up to Jerusalem had its hardness. But, oh, the coming down . Coming down from Jerusalem The purpose is gone And even the trees forget their bareness and bloom again As if my journey had not been-- As if I did not leave my Love to the wind and the stars Under the snow--on a hillside . "Going up to Jerusalem." had its price, But, oh, the coming down (alone) Is beyond the counting . Sister Ann Maureen, 1.H.M. 11201 Academy Road Philadelphia, PA 19154 Jesuit, Catholic Higher Education: Some Tentative Theses Michael J. Buckley, S.J. Father Buckley gave this as a paper at the annual meeting of Jesuit academic vice-presidents in 1982. This year Father Buckley is Barman Scholar in Residence at the University of Santa Clara, on leave from the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley. Introduction In the pages that follow, 1 have tried to suggest certain reflections around the general and troubled topic of the Jesuit, Catholic university. I do so because 1 suspect that a central problem for many administrators of such institutions lies within the vagueness or even chaotic understanding of this governing issue: what it is that they are administering. What do you mean by a "Jesuit university"?. Is it basically the same sort of thing that any Catholic university is--something clear enough in purpose, however imperfect in reali-zation; but at the same time something variant, in that the Jesuit university is staffed in part by a different religious coterie and marked by a particular historical tradition, so that one speaks primarily about "Jesuit presence" when one talks about these institutions? Or are we talking about something that is radically different when we talk about a Jesuit university? Are we talking about a university with a cultural orientation and a peculiar set of emphases that make it profoundly different from other Catholic universities, granted any number of similarities among them all--differences and similarities which the administrator should be at pains to foster? Or is there something in between? When one assumes administration of such an institution, it is not unreas-onable for such questions to be asked. Especially in a university, there is a unique value in knowing what you are doing! 339 ~141~ [ Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 Appropriate as such a set of questions is, however, it presupposes too much. It presupposes that the content of "Catholic university" is itself already determined--a "cluster concept," at least, which all can recognize, agree upon, and discuss within. I think, though, that this presupposition is false. I think that "Catholic university" is as much of an ambiguity as "Jesuit university," and that many of the problems in understanding the latter stem from an incoherence in this more fundamental premise. Since that is my conviction, 1 have structured the theses of this article accordingly. 1 have first set down a series of statements which I think are true about Catholic universities in general, and then I have stated how I think these either have been or could be realized in the Jesuit university. The normal difficulties of such a task of description or definition are increased enormously for American Jesuits by a second fact, one which also touches the presuppositions for a series of questions on the nature of Jesuit higher education: American Jesuits are almost universally unaware of, or indifferent to some central foundational documents in their tradition. A strik-ing example of this was provided by a remark of Father George Ganss~ on the initial options posed byProject One:2 The second feature of Project One (Volume 4) which strikes this writer is the virtually total lack of references to or use of Part IV of Ignatius' Constitutions, the locus where he most succinctly, clearly and authoritatively enshrined his educational theory or rationale. That theory is his own application of the dynamic and apostolic world view towards which God led him . In Part IV of the Constitutions, he applied it to the formation of Christian persons in the secondary schools and universities which he founded and administered.3 In a subsequent discussion with Father Ganss, a prominent Jesuit educator remarked that the Fourth Part of the Constitutions was not only absent from the written reports of Project One, but from almost all of its discussions as well. It would be instructive, perhaps, to discover how many Jesuits have some knowledge of the characteristic elements which Ignatius placed in the Fourth Part of the Constitutions, as distinct from those which subsequent Jesuit educators specified in the Ratio studiorum.4 If Jesuits do not know the unique genius of their own origin in education, they cannot define a present stand for themselves in education by "dialoguing with their tradition." They are left to follow in their adaptations: (a) usages within their own memories and (b) the patterns and directions they find in American secular education. Perhaps the reason for the repeated failures of commissions, conferences and programs for Jesuit higher education is that these have represented individual or collective initiatives at particular periods, but initiatives without continuity with the organic development of the Society. Isolated from this continually evolving tradition, these initiatives lived briefly and died. Whatever be the accuracy of this reading of our present awareness of our Jesuit, Catholic Higher Education / :341 historical meaning, 1 have tried to formulate the theses of this article with one such central foundational document in mind--the most important document, in my opinion: the Fourth Part of the Jesuit Constitutions. 1 do so, not because 1 think that American Jesuits of the twentieth century can or should copy or repeat these individual provisions, but because these spell out in the concrete Ignatius' view of higher education. Perhaps by looking at what might seem, at first blush, quaint or antiquated, the contemporary Society could sketch more perceptively an outline of what it is about today and enrich its self-understanding by drawing from its tradition some of its unrealized possibilities. The difficulty of any de~nitional inquiry is that its language must be prescriptive as well as descriptive, i.e. it must say something about what this thing is to become as well as describe what it de facto is. Consequently, any discussion of the idea of a university will always suffer from the accusation of irreality. But the value of such prescriptive discourse is that it can present something of a vision of what the institution might become and a goal towards which human beings might marshall their efforts. Finally, these theses are insistently entitled tentative. They are my first attempt to do something along these lines, and I am anxious to obtain modifi-cations, corrections, and suggestions of alternatives. The value of the Renais-sance "thesis method" was that positions were laid down which reflected a serious judgment and were stated with a precision and in a common language which made discussion and disagreement possible. The liability of the thesis method was that it tended towards defensiveness, polemics, and inflexibility. Let me attempt to allow for these deficiencies by positing these theses as "exploratory," as being a number of statements that I think are true and which are stated as directly as possible in order to invite the reflections of the reader. Hence, to speak again from the customs of an earlier time: "salvo meliore iudicio . " 1. The Nature of a Catholic University Thesis 1: The problem of the Catholic university is falsely stated if it is framed as if this university and the Church were two distinct, though inter-connected institutions. Counterposition: Father Timothy Healy, S.J., in "Belief and Teaching," Georgetown Magazine (January-February, 1982), p. 3: How does the Church live within a university? How do the two institutions interact on common ground?. The Church also lives here [in a Catholic university] in two distinct ways: first, it leads its own life on our grounds; secondly, the Church joins in, shares and influences the life and the work of the university itself. Comment: Such an understanding does not do justice either to the historical nature of the Catholic university or to its intrinsic uniqueness. Father Healy's "two distinct ways" could describe the presence of the Church within any major secular society, such as the City of New York. Catholic universities, in 342 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 contrast, are institutions founded by the Church, supported by the Church, and oriented to a unique service of the Church. Such a university is "Catholic" in a way that no city or state could be. Thesis 2: The Catholic university cannot be defined simply as a university where there is a strong Catholic presence. Counterposition: Father Ladislas M. Orsy, S.J., "A Catholic Presence," Amer-ica, (5 April 1969), p. 397: A human institution is not transformed into a supernatural one; it simply offers an opportunity to persons with religious belief to share the life and the work of a university community--in freedom and sympathy that supports them . The quality and intensity of their presence will make its mark on the university . To have a Catholic university, then, means to have a Catholic presence at the university. Comment: The same cricitism could be offered of this understanding as of the first, with the added remark that it is actually a description of a secular university with an active and influential Newman or Catholic Faculty Club. Both this and the previous descriptions attempt to determine the Catholic university as being a university in which the Church is one important element. Thesis 3: The Catholic university cannot be described as Catholic simply through the activities of campus ministry, the presence of religious and Catholic lay faculty, and a requirement in religious studies. Counterposition: "Goals and Guidelines of the University of Santa Clara," January, .1979: If we are to honor our heritage, we must assure that Santa Clam remains a Catholic and Jesuit university in more than name only. We do this now in many ways: the activities of the Campus Ministry Office: the involvement of Jesuits and campus lay people in all areas of campus life: the presence of spiritual counselors in the dormitories; the com-mitment of men and women in the Christian Life Community to service of God and mankind; the exposure of all undergraduate students to courses in the Department of . Religious Studies; and the role of the Mission Church as both the symbol of Santa Clam's heritage and a dynamic focus of Christian activity. Comment: In this understanding, the purpose in the Church which the Univer-sity of Santa Clara is to serve is not articulated. Most of the presence of the Church is assigned to campus ministry and segregated off from the formally academic integration of the university and its more general intellectual life. The university exists for mental culture, but, aside from religious studies, Catholic reflection and theology are allotted no pervasive place within the development of such a culture. Thesis 4: The Catholic university is one form of the Church, one of the communities which are integral to the universal Church, as much a Catholic community as is the parish, the monastery, the family, a secular institute, a communidad de base, and a diocese. These differ radically among themselves, each having its own members, constitu-tion, government, origins and purpose. Jesuit, Catholic Higher Education / 3113 Comment: "Such an ecclesial origin of the university cannot have been fortui-tous. Rather it seems to express something more profound. But why does the Church need the university?. The reason for this need should be sought in the very mission of the Church. In fact, the faith which the Church announces is a tides quaerens intellectum: a faith that demands to penetrate human intelligence, to be thought out by the intellect of the human person. Not by placing it alongside what intelligence can know by its own natural light, but by permeating from within this same knowledge" (Pope John Paul II, "The Church Needs the University," March 8, 1982, L'Osservatore Romano, Eng-lish edition [3 May, 1982], p. 6). In the same address, the pope refers to these institutions as a necessity for the Church. Thesis 5: The Catholic university is that Catholic community in which the Church "strives to relate all human culture to the gospel of salva-tion" (Gravissimum Educationis, no. 8). This relationship is con-cretely to be realized both in the development of its students and in the advancement of this integral knowledge by its faculty. Another way of making this claim: "Secondly, the university is Catholic in its deliberate determination to render the Church this unique service: to be a forum where in utter academic freedom the variant lines of Catholic tradition and thought can intersect with the most complex challenges, contradictions and reinforcements of contemporary thought, moving towards a unity of world and Word, that all things be assimilated into the Christ. No other institution within human culture can render this critically important contribu-tion to the Christian community (as a whole), and without it the commitments of faith disintegrate into sectarian polemics whose only strength lies in their isolation from contradicting contact" (Michael J. Buckley, S.J., "The Catholic University as Pluralistic Forum," Thought 46:181 [June, 1971], p. 208). Comment: The Catholic university, then, essentially includes within itself the presence and the unique contribution of non-Catholics as well as the academic freedom which makes open discussion possible. Without the presence of vari-ant tradition it would be impossible that the Church could sponsor this rela-tion of the Gospel with "all human culture." Both Catholic and non-Catholic faculty have an appropriate contribution to. make to the advancement of the life of the Catholic university, and what is asked from faculty and students is not a particular credal affiliation, but that they be willing to enter into the conversations about those questions which constitute the formal academic character of the Catholic university (theses I 1 and 12 below). This integration of the Gospel with .culture demands especially the presence and contribution of non-Catholic Christians whose perspectives p~sh the radical questions about what Christianity really is, and what it really means, in the contemporary world. This means that the Catholic university is not the Church nor a microcosm of the Church nor even a community composed only of believers. Such a 3l~l~ / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 university is, however, rather one modality or form which the Church in-ternally develops in order to reach its full stature, in order to become what it must be. It is an assimilative sub-community of the Church, i.e. one that assimilates into the reflection consequently upon the Gospel the vast pluralism of persons and persuasions representative of"all human culture,"a community whose institutional determination is to render to the Church universal this unique service. The autonomy of the Catholic university from controls that would be properly exercised over a diocese or a parish is essential. This academic freedom from external controls is essential not only for its authen-ticity as a university, but for that comprehensive, free discourse which alone can offer the Church serious, disinterested, and uninhibited inquiry. Thesis 6: Hence, the Catholic university as a unique Catholic community is, like any Christian communit.v, essentially sacramental, i.e. that community which, with historical continuity and tangible percepti-bility, makes present for all human beings now the realit.v of Christ drawing all human culture to himself. Another way of making this claim: It is in and through the Catholic university that the mission of Christ to draw all human culture to himself is given historical continuity and visibility in the twentieth century. Comment: The Catholic university is not a university in which the Church has a strong presence. The Catholic university is itself, and as a whole, a presence of the Church. Thesis 7: The manner in which this understanding of the university is mani-fested in the Jesuit Constitutions is by (1) stipulating that the entire college[university is a residence of the Society, i.e., the entire college/university is a Christian, religious community (Formula of the Institute (5), (8)," Const. 289)," (2) orienting both the schools of humane letters and of natural science to their integration with theology (446-452); (3) insisting upon the Christian service for which these studies are undertaken, often concretized as .future teaching, and generalized as "the glory of God and the good of souls" (Const. 440; 289-290; 351; 446; 622). Comment: This orientation towards service received striking expression by Ignatius on December I, 1551: From among those who are now merely students, some in time will depart to play diverse roles--one to preach and carry on the care of souls, another to government of the land and the administration of justice, and others to other occupations. Finally. since young boys become grown men. their good education in life and doctrine will be beneficial to many others, with the results expanding more widely every day (Monu-menta Historica Societatis lesu. Epp. Ign. IV. p. 9). II. The Administration of a Catholic University Thesis 8: The academic leadership or administration within a Catholic uni- Jesuit, Catholic Higher Education / 345 versity is essentially a religious ministry. By "religious ministry" is meant something quite specific, namely that it is the. responsibility of the administration that the sacramental finality of the Catholic university be realized: the integration of human culture and the Gospel. This ministry is intellectual leadership, but that does not make it less religious. It bears directly upon the intellectual service of God, a pervasive ministerium verbi (Ministry of the Word), in which the Word is translated into varying cultures, in which a more accurate understanding is gained by its encounter with and advancement of these cultures and in which a new synthe-sis is obtained between faith and all forms of knowledge. This ministerium verbi is the first ministry which the Formula of the Institute lists in its enumer-ation of Jesuit apostolic commitments. The universities have a unique function in this ministry: to advance and to synthesize the Gospel and all forms of human culture. Comment: Thus the president, the academic vice-president, the deans, the provost--whoever de facto preside over the life of the university have a pro-foundly synthetic religious leadership as their primary task. Their leadership is not "religious" as opposed to "academic" or intellectual"---that is precisely the dichotomy that the university is to deny. But it must be stated that if the leader of any Christian community--be it a Catholic university or parish or family or monastery or hospital--is not persuaded of the appropriately religious charac-ter of his or her leadership, then the community drifts into secularization. Thesis 9: The manner in which this understanding of university[college administration is manifested in the Jesuit Constitutions is by the insistence upon the personal religious character of its rector (423) and upon the religious quality of his leadership, with learning and Christian life placed as a single finality (424, 490). Comment: There are no grounds for asserting that separate incorporation removes the essentially religious nature of Jesuit university leadership. It is not the case that the division of functions between rector and president meant that one was religious and the other secular: The rector of the community is the religious leader of the Jesuit commu-nity, and his function is to govern it in such a way that it is Jesuit in its life and supports this apostolate to which it is committed. The president of the Jesuit university is the religious leader of the univer-sity, and his function is to administer it in such a way that its life promotes that intellectual and moral integration of all human culture with the Gospel which is its purpose. See Pedro Arrupe, S.J., "The Image of the Jesuit University President," (August 8, 1975) Documentation 27/2. III. The Formal, Academic Catholic Character of the Catholic University Thesis 10: The formal character of any" university is not constituted by the 346 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 elimination or by the presence ~f any particular discipline. Comment: A university, to be a university, should include whatever passes as serious and disciplined knowledge. The exclusign of theology from a particular university does not mean in itself that it has excluded religious commitment; per se it means that it has fallen that short of being a university. On the other hand, the presence of Catholic theology on a university campus does not necessarily indicate that the university is Catholic; it indicates that it is just that much more a university. Thesis 11: The formal, academic character of any university is constituted by the order of the questions which are entertained and by the kind of knowledge which is considered most worth having. Comment: One would not expect restrictions upon discourse and study at the University of California at Davis, or at MIT, or at the University of Santa Clara. But the priorities in the issues to be investigated or the knowledge considered either fundamental or most important will be different in these different institutions. This trait will constitute the difference among them. " Thesis 12: The Catholic academic character of a university will be constituted by the quality and the influence of its theology, i.e. by the depth, rigor, and thoroughness with which theological inquiry is con-ducted and by the integrating influence of theology upon all of the other disciplines taught in the university. A Catholic university is one in which Catholic theology acts as an architectonic wisdom, one which draws the arts and the sciences and the engagements of the professional schools into an ongoing conversation about pre-suppositions, consequences, and common themes. Thesis 13." The Constitutions exhibit this understanding of the Catholic aca-demic character of the university primarily in the principal empha-sis which they give to theology (446). Literature, natural sciences and philosophy are oriented to this theological wisdom: their study prepares the students for the serious engagement in theology; theology unifies knowledge into a single understanding of the world, into a wisdom; the orientation of all learning tends to the same end ultimately as theology (447-451). Comment: The place of theology given by the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus is really quite different from that allotted to it by, say, Newman's Idea of a University. In Newman, theology would be one element among others in a circle of knowledge which forms the "philosophical habit of mind." In Igna-tius, theology is the principal and governing discipline in which the humane letters and sciences reach their natural completion (446, 450). Thesis 14: The formal academic curriculum of a Catholic university must be sustained by the surrounding presence of a more general Catholic culture that makes the daily life of the university itself. Jesuit, Catholic Higher Education / 347 Comment: Examples of this "more general Catholic culture" would be found in the quality and seriousness of its worship, the character of its collective morality and social concerns, the pastoral care of one member for another, the seminars and general lectures which it fosters, the atmosphere of intellectual and religious interests, and so forth (see Const. 481-489). IV. Agents of Integration of Faith with Culture Thesis 15: Granted this integrating function as the primary work of the administration, the principal administrator must be aided in his responsibility by subordinate officials whose ministry it is to see that this integration permeates the intellectual life (the Academic Vice-President), the social life (Vice-President for Student Affairs), and the religious life of the university (the University Chaplain). Thesis 16: Such an integral view of the Catholic university can never be realized if "campus ministry" is only or principally composed of those who are not part of the academic community and who confine themselves to the ob.viously liturgical and pastoral en-gagements of the university, i.e. if campus ministry confines itself to a "sacristy" or even to an "activist "function. Thesis 17: "Campus ministry" should be that interdepartmental committee whose function it is to assist the president in some aspects of his religious ministry to the Catholic university, i.e. the integration of faith with culture/life. Such a staff or committee is necessary because too many of the possibilities for such an integration can-not be realized in the present departmental divisions: members of the various departments should be invited to become members of this interdepartmental staff, composed of the University Chaplain and members of the university faculty, and full-time staff members. These are some implications and possibilities envisaged by this thesis: 1. The head of "campus ministry" should be the University Chaplain of the school, with the rank of vice-president to assist the president in his general religious ministry of the integration of faith and culture. 2. The majority of the members of the "campus ministry" committee or staff would also be members of other departments and schools. 3. Areas of religious integration which are open to such a "campus ministry" would be for example: a. Sponsorship of a religious/academic bookstore which would be a cen-ter of regular discussions, lectures, and seminars on the integration of faith and culture. b. Introduction into the campus of the great range of prophetic and intel-lectual movements within the Church, such as the Catholic Workers, Charis-matics, liturgical groups, Pax Christi, Rural Life Conference, Christian Family Life, Jesuit Volunteers--for the possibilities both of critique and of assimila- 341~ Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 tion into the life of the university. c. Sponsorship of prolonged engagements in Christian service which would be planned, supervised and reflected upon for their Christian elements and which would be of such an academic quality that the theology department could recognize them as legitimate courses. d. Through the presence of campus ministry on various academic commit-tees, planning groups, and other representative bodies, a continual source of the questions about the integration between these plans or programs and the purpose of the university. e. Through their presence within placement offices, career planning and counseling centers, a challenge to the university community, that the teachers would understand their lives and the students plan their futures as vocations rather than simply careers,.i.e, as a way of life and service within the world which is a response to the call of God in their lives, rather than a positive evaluation of obvious and secularly justifiable options. f. Organization of a rich and full liturgical life, which embodies such possibilities as the Morning and Evening Prayer of the Church, a eucharistic liturgy which follows the variations and harmony of the liturgical year, a series of "university sermons," etc., and which so integrates the university as a whole at certain solemn occasions that it is the university, as this form of the Church, which is at prayer. Thesis 18: To act as an architectonic wisdom, Catholic theolog.v must be restored as an integral discipline, distinct both from the more gen-eral "religious studies "and from an eclectic amalgam of disparate courses in Scripture or ethics or spirituality. "Theology "is here understood as an inquiry into the natu~'e, influence and claims of God as revealed in Christ, and "religious studies "as an investiga-tion of the nature and varieties of religions or confessions which have emerged in human history. Comment: As the architectonic discipline which integrates and marks a Catholic university, theology should be in constant interchange with the other sciences and arts, with the other schools, studies, and activities of the univer-sity. Theology gains in content and in method in its encounters with other disciplines; the other disciplines are drawn beyond themselves into a general academic unity by their discussions with theology. What kind of presence or curriculum-order is necessary to obtain such a dialogue can only be deter-mined by experience, but it should be of such a character as (a) to maintain theology as a serious and systematic study and (b) to constitute it in a synthetic unity with all the other aspects of the university. Thesis 19: Thus both theology and "campus ministry" have an integrating function within the university. Everything within the university is the object of the theological faculty as it attempts to move towards a synthetic vision which is a Christian wisdom, and of "campus Jesuit, Cathofic Higher Education Thesis 21: ministry" as it attempts to introduce that vision into practice and expand it in areas not under the purview of various departments. The manifestation of the sacramental nature of the Catholic uni-versity, i.e., of the historical presence of Christ drawing all human culture to himself, is to be found in every aspect of the university: in the priorities among the questions investigated and in the knowl-edge thought essential," in the quality of the intellectual, moral and religious life on campus; in the criteria by which decisions are reached and investments made; in the kind of recruitment informa-tion, of students admitted, and of faculty hired, and so forth. The Jesuit community is that local community of Jesuits who both collectively and individually minister to this kind of university. How it does so would be the subject of another twenty theses,t NOTES ~The Reverend George E. Ganss, S.J. is the distinguished translator and editor of the English version of the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus. 2Project One was an attempt of the American Jesuits, initiated in 1973 and extending over the next four or five years, to identify and evaluate their goals and efforts in the apostolate of education. 3Project One, Volume #5, pp. 194-195. 4The Ratio Studiorum is the successively revised Jesuit plan of studies, an organization of curricula and of instructional methods rather than an exposition of educational theory. "What Should I Wear Today?" Thomas Ryan, C.S.P. Father Ryan is associate director of the Canadian Centre for Ecumenism. He is the author of Fasting Rediscovered: A Guide to Health and Wholeness for Your Body-Spirit and Tales of Christian Unity (Paulist Press). He may be addressed at the center: 2065 Ouest, Rue Sherbrooke; Montreal H3H IG6; Canada. I got up this morning and stood before my closet and asked: "What should I wear today?" Not so long ago the question felt like a helpful freedom; more and more it is feeling like a bother, and I frequently find myself resenting the loss of time and energy as I stand there in morning grogginess trying to answer the question. Where 1 live we probably face it more than would be the case elsewhere, yet Quebec is certainly not the only place in North America where the religious uniform has been traded in for secular dress. The history here is unique, but some of its consequences are shared with the rest of the continent. Some twenty years ago in a cultural revolution in Quebec, Canada, the Church was perceived to be too friendly with a government that had permitted the English to keep the key positions of economic influence and kept the French down on the farm. Both the Church and English economic dominance were thrown off like unwanted and resented yokes by the increasingly nationalistic French majority. Education and the university became the new place of worship and the leaders of the Parti Qubbbcois, the new high priests of the society. In the period of anticlericalism that followed, the French clergy traded in their clericals for ties and turtlenecks, and the sign of contradiction was reduced to a cross on a suit-coat lapel. "The anticlericalism was so pronounced," explained one sister who lived through it, "that at any public meeting we would go to, we were condemned by our apparent association with the Church before we even opened our mouths. We priests and sisters began dressing in 350 "What Should 1 Wear Today?"/ ~151 civies just to get a fair hearing and have what we were saying evaluated on its own merit." Among the English clergy in Quebec, there are enough "ties" or enough "collars" present to leave one genuinely feeling free in either direction. In other words, there is an unpressured climate for each person to sort through the value questions involved and make a choice, knowing the "tie" will not mean "radical" nor clericals mean "conservative." When I said jokingly to a confrere this evening that 1 was going to submit an article to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS entitled "What Should 1 Wear Today?" he immediately responded, "Oh, you mean, 'Who am I going to see today?"' He was quite right, and that's part of what bothers me. When l'm going to be meeting with Orthodox clergy, I wear black. When l'm going to be meeting With Protestant clergy, ! wear a tie. When they're both going to be there, 1 find myself playing one off against the other in my mind in a kind of who's-more-important- to-me game. What I am uncomfortable with is that it's my projection of the other's reaction to me that guides the decision. Where are my own convictions in the matter? 1 was thrown back on that question because I caught myself feeling like l'd made the "wrong" (political, not moral) decision. One day I put on a suit and tie to speak at a clergy study-day in the neighboring province of Ontario. When I arrived and saw all the collars and religious habits I was reminded again of what a different world Ontario is from Quebec. "Are you a local minister?" (he meant Protestant) asked one clerically-attired person who turned out to be a permanent deacon. The irony was rich. So I asked myself on the way home, "What are your values on this question?" Some years ago I was in an identity group of seminarians as part of a training program for counselors at the Center for Religion and Psychiatry in Washington, D.C. We spent a few sessions on the question, "What does it mean for me to wear or not wear a collar?" It's certain that not all of the participants drew the same conclusions from those discussions, but the operating principle that evolved for me from our reflections was a variation of "The habit does not make the monk." Dress that identifies me as a religious person is a means. If it will be likely to help advance some pastoral situation, use it. If it is likely to get in the way (as may be the case on college campuses with university students), don't use it. During that formative period, the important thing seemed to be secure enough in my own identity that I didn't need the collar as a crutch. Satisfied that my identity as a priest and religious was anchored within, and not in what I wore without, I proceeded to live these past years with no consistent external mode of dress. Yet, the question is not settled with me. Where the above rationale breaks down is in the presumption that I can always accurately project which mode of dress will be a pastoral asset or liability. In our secularized society, there is a growing Catholic consciousness of our mission for evangelization. We are becoming more aware of the importance of each of us witnessing, according to 359 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 our occupation and way of life,to a faith-centered existence. This awareness is perhaps renewing our appreciation of sacramentals and their potential to be an occasion of reflection for the casual passerby. To the extent that a mode of dress conveys a religious meaning, it qualifies as a sacramental. On this question of sacramentals, Sacramentum Mundi notes that "the statements of the Constitution on the Liturgy point to an emphasis on their character as a sign. But they do not answer the fundamental question, whether the sacramentals are not part of a special religious world which may be outdated by. the present-day experience of existence in the world. This [question]. has particularly far-reaching consequences for the usage of the sacramentals and hence for their theology, which must concen-trate fundamentally on their apt and proper use . Religion must not be seen in purely transcendental terms or merely as a dimension in depth. It must be classified in the category of a sphere of religious manifestations . The difference between nature and grace, and between the present and the coming age, justifies the existence of an order of sacred signs which express and manifest this difference." The habit, the collar, the cross, have not lost their power to be a sign of transcendence or of contradiction, a symbol that casts a question. But I do not always have the courage or the desire to stand apart. Or sit apart, for that matter. When I'm on the bus, I've noticed people will generally not sit next to "a collar" if there's another choice. On a plane, where people don't know who they're choosing to sit next to, 1 often feel more-than-the-usual hesitancy on the part of the other to normal social discourse. Or the reverse happens and one finds oneself in a not-so-private counseling session. And on the street corner while waiting for the light, I try not to notice the out-of-the-corner-of-the- eye glances that indicate one is being coolly appraised: "Hmm! What is a young (median clergy age today: 50!), intelligent-looking (well, at least my sister says that my receding hair line makes me look more 'intellectual'), athletic (I confess: it is getting harder) person like that doing in the priesthood?" When 1 was living for a time with a family in France, the mother said to me one day, "If you catch our guests kind of staring at you sometimes, don't take it personally. It's just that for us a young priest is, well, a very curious beast." What I'm coming to recognize is that there's going to be a negative reaction on the part of some people whichever way one dresses, and a positive reaction on the part of others. Furthermore, the guideline, "What will help or hinder my pastoral effectiveness in any given situation?" seems more and more presumptuous to me. Who can ever really know what happens in the hearts and minds of people when they see a priest in his clericals? If presumptive guesses about what others want, will be pleased by, or will derive benefit from are unreliable, then what is there to guide me? My answer is: my desire to make my life an articulate sign of the gospel I am trying to live. I am closer now than 1 was five or seven years ago to seeing how religious symbolism in dress can be an effective concretization of that desire. But as long "' What ShouM I Wear Today?"/ 353 as religious garb is connected with actions or life-styles that do not clearly reflect gospel living (which will always be the case to some extent), clericals or a religious habit will never be an entirely reliable symbol of communication. Thus it is that my choice on any given day is made with a certain flexibility and tentativeness, and with a sense of its built-in limitations in either direction. I was recently in a conversation with a group of priests and one of them told a story on four of the others that illustrates the point. "When I met you at the port on the first stop of your Caribbean cruise, 1 was surprised to see you were all wearing clericals," said the recounter of the tale. "Ah yes," one of the four affirmed, "we were not pleased with the cabins we'd been given, so we were trying to influence the ship's captain." "And?" "Oh it worked quite nicely. For the rest of the trip we were given any available suite." That's why many of the priests in. Montreal have switched to ties and coats. But I wonder sometimes on the buses and subways and street corners whether anybody sees that little cross on their lapel, and I wonder if we're using all available means of witnessing to the presence of God in a society hungering for meaning and ready to respect people who stand for something. If you and I should meet, what will I be wearing? Well, I'll probably be wearing the question inside and wondering if I made the best choice that day! The Incarnation and Chariots of Fire Halbert Weidner, C.O. Father Weidner published an account of the spirituality of the Oratory in our issue of November, 1979. He continues to reside at South Carolina's Oratory, the mailing address of which is P.O. Box 11586; Rock Hill, SC 29370. The Liturgy of the Hours has been enriched with an appendix of poetry and among the most recent poets represented there are the remarkable British pair of Edwin Muir (1881-1959) and Kathleen Raine (born in 1908). Muir is a poet much admired by such different writers as T.S. Eliot and Thomas Merton. Kathleen Raine's work on William Blake remains current and widely read. Her poetry, autobiographies, and critical works have drawn much praise and attention. Both authors are religious writers in the most profound sense of the term and, as poets and pilgrims, have something to say to both believers and unbelievers. Muir is relatively unknown in this country despite a sojourn at Harvard and, with his wife Willa, being established as the first and most popular translator of Franz Kafka. Muir is not a consciously modern poet. In fact, his devotion to tradition and accessibility may put off the professional literati. Still, T.S. Eliot said of him: He was first and foremost deeply concerned with what he had to say--and by that l do not mean that his purpose was ever didactic or that he was striving to convey a "message." But under the pressure of emotional intensity, and possessed by his vision, he found, almost unconsciously, the right, the inevitable way of saying what he wanted to say.~ The best introduction to the poet is his own story, An Autobiography. He was born in the Orkney Islands, off the north coast of Scotland, and so is claimed by Scots. Muir himself says his native language was really a mixture of Incarnation and Chariots of Fire / 355 Norse, Scots, and Irish. Indeed, such words as creels (fishing baskets), bannocks (a fiat, unleavened bread), and byres (cow-sheds) are evenly woven into the narrative of his childhood. For Muir, the islands were not on the edge of the world, but were the "heart of civilization." The seasons nurtured each their own phase of an ancient culture. The Winter gathered us into one room as it gathered the cattle into the stable and the byre; the sky came close; the lamps were lit at three or four in the afternoon, and then the great evening lay before us like a world: an evening filled with talk, stories, games, music and lamplight? This winter time gave Muir his first introduction to poetry. The early ballads sung in the home came from an oral tradition about James V and Sir James the Rose. These songs were sung with full voice and personal confidence. Other ballads, late in the tradition, were "chanted in a literary way, in honor of the print in which they had originally come, every syllable of the English text carefully pronounced, as if it were an exercise."3 Spring carried the sacred rituals of breeding and killing--both aspects of farm life his mother tried to prevent him from seeing. He made sure, of course, that he saw both--though the activities of the bull and cow were not understood and the excitement was all in the activities of the men directing the affair. He did not, in the slaughtering, pity the animals, but somehow touched the terror and the need which were inextricably bound up in the process. "There was a necessity in the copulation and the killing which took away the sin, or at least, by the ritual act, transformed it into a sad, sanctioned duty.TM The spring, a series of vivid happenings, gave way to the summer, its opposite: a "motionless blue" in which "nothing happened." This nothingness demanded acceptance as the pivot marking the time of growth. This in turn gave way to the hard work of autumn and the feasts that defined the line between harvest and the winter. And so it went with each winter being favorite season of the farmer's child because it was the family time for play and song and story. The family religion was a fundamentalist Calvinism which combined early baptism with the stern demands for a later conversion and personal claim to being born-again. Muir's conversion, under severe pressure from his family, was sincere, but barely a prelude to his lapse from Christianity. His disbelief was, moreover, also the result of pressure. This time the strain came from the deaths of his parents and of two of his brothers when the family moved, in hopes of better employment, to the industrialized city of Glasgow. It was as if the Muir family in a few short years had been required to pay the price of the industrial revolution's whole century of devastation. "All that time," Muir remembered, "seemed to give no return, nothing but loss; it was like a heap of dismal rubbish in the middle of which, without rhyme or reason, were scattered four deaths.''~ The great city of free enterprise could not replace the agricultural community that once bridged birth and death with faith and ritual. As a young man forced out early on his own, Muir moved just south of 356 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 Glasgow to earn his living in what might have been the Checkpoint Charlie of hell: a bone factory. "The bones," he tells us, "decorated with festoons of slowly writhing, fat yellow maggots, lay in the adjoining railway siding and were shunted into the factory whenever the furnaces were ready for them." There was only one major problem: "There were sharp complaints from Glasgow whenever the trucks lay too long in the siding, for the sea gulls could gobble up half a hundredweight of maggots in no time, and as the bones had to be paid for by their original weight, and the maggots were part of it, this meant a serious loss to the firm."~ Thus necessity introduced the factory's most important ritual: a shotgun blast into the air over the trucks each half hour. It was in this atmosphere that Muir began a ferocious personal quest which included reading philosophy seriously. This led to Nietzsche and to a kind of socialism. He abandoned the tough Christianity of his family for a soft belief in "process." "Be hard' was one of Nietzsche's exhortations," Muir tells us, "but I was not hard enough to give up Nietzsche." Muir's hunger for ideas, as well as for communicating them, attracted the attention of A.R. Orage, editor of the New Age and a genius for gathering talented, left-wing, and sometime elitist writers. Muir had a high opinion of Orage, but a low one of his own work for him. Muir's column, "We Moderns," revealed, said Muir, that "whenever I hit upon a paradox which lay conveniently near the surface I took it for the final truth."7 Still, Muir was the rarest of twentieth-century beings: a non-university educated revolutionary. A marriage, "the most fortunate event of my life," led to a move into London for economic reasons. Eventually journalism and translation work allowed them the adventure of moving to Prague. This city became for them what Paris was for American expatriates: a city riding the crest of a billowing tradition and arriving at the edge of revolutionary changes. Now in his mid-thirties, Muir began writing poetry. "I had no training; 1 was too old to submit myself to contemporary influences; and I had acquired in Scotland a deference towards ideas which made my entrance into poetry difficult. Though my imagination had begun to work I had no technique by which I could give expression to it." He was a poet in the middle of life caught between a change in poetic consciousness. "There were the rhythms of English poetry on the one hand, the images in my mind on the other. All I could do at the start was to force the one, creaking and complaining, into the mould of the other."s In Muir's case, the distance provided by his experience of Prague as the far country, and some early psychoanalysis and dream work, led to a recovery of the childhood geography and the roots engendered there. If poetry incarnates meaning, as Muir believed, then this geography literally provided the ground for Muir's poems. He acknowledges this in his life's last poem: I have been taught by dreams and fantasies Learned from the friendly and the darker phantoms And got great knowledge and courtesy from the dead Incarnation and Chariots of Fire / 357 Kinsmen and kinswomen, ancestors and friends But from two mainly Who gave me birth? This healing recovery of his roots and reconcilation with much of his unconscious gave birth to his poetry at the very time that Europeans were destroying their past: "They were lost and on the road to greater loss, and ready to accept any creed which would pull their lives together and give them the enormous relief of finding, even under compulsion, a direction for their existence, whether it had a spiritual meaning or not.''~° Muir saw the political left and right taking over the violent spirit of his native country's religious past: they were like the old Scottish covenanters who went into battle with banners reading "Christ and No Quarter." During the time of no quarter, Muir returned to Britain and began his eight-year association with the British Council, an organization promoting British culture. Prior to the war, Muir's office in Edinburgh set up houses for refugees and introduced them to British life. During this time Muir wrote more poetry in the midst of administration and the central issues of the day than he had in previous and more solitary jobs. British Council work eventually led him to Rome and his first major encounter with cultural Catholicism. It was here that he had his encounter with the Incarnation: During the time when I was a boy I attended the United Presbyterian Church in Orkney. I was aware of religion chiefly as the sacred Word. but nothing told me that Christ was born in the flesh and had lived on earth. [But in Rome] that image was to be seen everywhere, not only in churches, but on the walls of houses, at cross-roads in the suburbs, in wayside shrines in the parks, and in private rooms. I remember stopping for a long time one day to look at a little plaque on the wall of a house in the Via degli Artisti, representing the Annunciation. An angel and a young girl, their bodies inclined towards each other, their knees bent as if overcome by love, "tutto tremante," gazed upon each other like Dante's pair; and that representation of a human love so intense that it could not reach farther seemed the perfect earthly symbol of the love that passes understanding.~ Before Rome, a friend had pointed out to Muir that he was Christian in his images and his metaphysics. It had not occurred to him, but he accepted it. What the encounter in Rome did for Muir was to support him in his conclusion that mystery was at the source of life, that it lived and touched us, incarnate in what were not "mere" symbols, but the final reality. Symbols, which Yeats said united the "sleeping with the waking mind," also unite us to each other and to the generating reality that cares for all, past and present. Incarnation was a delight and good news to Muir, for whom nothing airy and abstract could hold the truth: "A religion that dared to show forth such a mystery for everyone to see would have shocked the congregations of the north, would have seemed a sort of blasphemy, perhaps even an indecency. But here it was publicly shown, as Christ showed himself on the earth."12 In the conclusion to his autobiography, Muir anticipated the theologians of our time in their interest in the theology of story: ~1511 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 As I look back on the part of the mystery which is my own life, my own fable, what 1 am most aware of is that we receive it from the past, on which we draw with every breath, but also--and this is a point of faith--from the Source of the mystery itself, by the means which religious people call grace.~3 When we read of this mystery in Muir's poems, we are struck by the plain language. But the poems demand rereading before the light that comes from the depths of human experience begins to dawn. One poem in the Liturgy of the Hours is called "One Foot in Eden" and may be taken as an example. It is composed of twenty-nine short lines of ordinary words~ but in it Muir has communicated a highly developed reflection on the necessity of choosing experience over innocence and then given depth to the Easter cry of O Felix Culpa.t Muir's Eden is both a place of innocence which must be given up and an impossible Utopia which must not be succumbed to. The world outside Eden awaits a judgment for its failings, but also attention to its special value: Blossoms of grief and charity Bloom in these darkened fields alone. What has Eden ever to say Of hope and faith and pity and love. Strange blessings never in Paradise Fall from these beclouded skies.~4 The other poem in the Hours collection is "The Killing." In it there is a remarkably graphic description of death that reaches back to Muir's childhood memories of farmyard slaughters. Muir suggests in the poem that an incarnate God is not what people want, and they will kill in their disappointment. The Incarnation, rather than being an easy myth that a longing humanity desperately creates, is really an affront and a capital crime. The poem ends with the question of an agnostic, a stranger, who wonders if, in the very act of dying, an incarnate God crossed his path. The wonder is a real enough grasp of the mystery and a crack for grace to move through. Muir did not come to a church and an orthodox form of Christian faith. But his insistence that meaning can only reach its fullness in the real world of flesh and blood, and his embrace of the world in beautiful language can certainly help us ordinary Christians to remain orthodox. Muir's acceptance of limits and his belief in their necessity so that there can be both definition and a grace that can take hold is a challenge to any spirituality that wishes to escape the human condition. This poet from the North Sea islands could, then, help us to purify and enrich the language of our prayer and our pulpits and lead us to embrace, and be embraced by the Word made flesh. Kathleen Raine If Muir i~ the poet of the Incarnation, Kathleen Raine writes of the Transfiguration. She is a pilgrim like Muir and now a stranger to orthodox Christianity though she had joined the Catholic Church for some years. She presents an interesting problem. Her experiences have led her to believe more rather than less, and so she moved away from Catholicism: Incarnation and Chariots of Fire / 359 To me it seemed absurd to find one aspect of a total symbolic event less acceptable than other parts: mythical events (so I thought) are not to be verified (did they or did they not take place) but rather to be understood, as is poetry. If anything, I still continued to find the Christian myth, as comparett with the pagan richness of symbol, too meagre, and welcomed any addition.~5 She means here, of course, no denigration of the Christian faith by calling it poetry and myth. For her, the truths of existence cannot be expressed any other way. This is a position that she fought to get to and promote all her life. To get to it, she had to overcome the assaults of a narrow Christian upbringing and an even narrower philosophy at Cambridge University where she studied science. Writing of the Christian poet Vernon Watkins, who came to Cambridge at about the same time, Raine says: "Years later Vernon Watkins wrote a ballad on Abram and Sodom; but at the time acted like Lot and quickly left a town past praying for. He was not deceived by the prestige of ignorance in high places."~6 The scientific materialism prevailing in the university spilled over into a Marxist politics in one direction and into an analytically dry and thin literary criticism in the other direction. While at Cambridge, Raine began to write poetry that was in a romantic and mystic vein, twin heresies, which Cambridge literary leaders tried to tear out. She did have two great privileges in her time in the scientific Sodom. She was in the audience when Virginia Woolf came to read her manifesto for feminists, A Room of One's Own, and, because he was unpopular and unread there, she discovered T.S. Eliot on her own. Kathleen Raine's poetry is obviously based on her experience of the sacred, and in her three autobiographies, she is plain about some of these ecstatic and enlightening encounters with nature. What is reassuring to Christians is that her hints of the transcendent are not limited to impersonal experiences, but are also to be found in encounters with other people. What is constant in both is her belief that poetry and imaginative truth are intimately related in both experiences of nature and persons. Her devotion to the imagination as a voice and a revelation echoes a favorite quotation from William Blake, whose works Raine has really helped to make popular in our own century. Blake tells us: If the Spectator could enter in these Images in his imagination, approaching them on the Fiery Chariot of his Contemplative Thought . . . or could make a Friend and Companion of these Images of wonder, which always intreat him to leave mortal things (as he must know), then would he meet the Lord in the Air, then he would be happy.~6 Raine quotes Bede Griffiths, now a monk in a Christian ashram in India, to the effect that "the function of art is. to evoke the divine presence."17 She not only quotes the insight, she believes and preaches it fervently in her criticisms of much modern literature. Materialism and naturalism, she says, betray the material and the natural. She believes that the peasant had it right when he answered the question, "How can bread be God?" by replying, "What else would it be?" Of course, the difficult side to Raine is the superfluity of belief. She 360 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 remembers with joy the seriously considered polytheism of her old friend and Nobel prize winner, Elias Canetti. He told her, "If I believed in one God, I should be obliged to hate him." He would, she says, "rather watch supernatura supernaturans than relegate the supreme gods of all the ages from gold or stone to iron and the machine, to the ethnological section of any museum, or the files of case-histories."~8 Perhaps Cardinal Newman's dictum that the superstitious are infinitely closer to the truth than the rationalists might help us understand Raine's extremism. Extreme or not, in the poem "Word Made Flesh" is captured some of Raine's ability to convey an experience that uses Christian symbols well, even if they spill outside of Christianity. "Word" is described over and over in eight short stanzas: "Word whose breath is the world-circling atmosphere. Word traced in water of lakes. Word inscribed on stone. Grammar of five-fold rose and six-fold lily, Spiral of leaves on a bough, helix of shells. Instinctive wisdom of fish.and lion and ram. Flash of fin, beat of wing, heartbeat, beat of the dance." And finally: Statement of mystery, how shall we name A spirit clothed in world, a world made man?~9 The descriptions are all authentic application of the word or "logos," and challenge the Christian to find a more beautiful poetic expression of the Cosmic Christ of I Corinthians 15:28. Another test of authenticity is Raine's real ability to conjure the evocative power of language, not in the mechanical control of formula or the mystification of gibberish, but in the power which comes from the choice of images that resonate with the inner nature of things around us, including all and excluding nothing. One of the poems in the Liturgy of Hours comes from the 1952 collection called The Year One. The book title comes from a friend who said the historical applied only to humans and their toil because for nature "it is always the year one." The title of the poem is Northumbrian Sequence IV. Northumbria is a border county of wild weather, moors merging into seascapes and the site of Hadrian's wall built by the Roman emperor to keep out the barbaric Scots. The poem offered as possible food for prayer begins: Let in the wind Let in the rain Let in the moors tonight. The storm beats on my window-pane, Night stands at my bed-foot, Let in the fear, Let in the pain, Let in the trees that toss and groan, Let in the north tonight. The evocation continues to the heart of the matter: Let in the nameless formless power That beats upon my door. Incarnation and Chariots of Fire / 361 Let in the ice, let in the snow, The banshee howling on the moor, The bracken-bush on the bleak hillside, Let in the dead tonight. The poem continues to link individual aspects of nature with even more powerful figures symbolic of various dark sides of humanness. Then there is a question and a short response: Oh how can virgin fingers weave A covering for the void, How can my fearful heart conceive Gigantic solitude? How can a house so small contain A company so great? Let in the dark, Let in the dead, Let in your love tonight. The answer must be a gentleness and pity that understands the immensity of the forces at hand and does not shrink from them: Gentle must my fingers be And pitiful my heart Since 1 must bind in human form A living power so great, A living impulse great and wild That cries about my house With all the violence of desire Desiring this my peace. Whether an interior demand of self or of others, here is a promise of a presence that cannot be articulated or tamed, but is full of promise. The poem concludes with this stanza: Let in the wound, Let in the pain, Let in your child tonight. This conclusion is at once crushing and comforting: the alien forces so powerful, so destructive, so all-inclusive are nevertheless one child to us in need of father-mother. These forces, these other presences are not us, and yet are as close to us as possible, and so we need to claim them. The spell Raine invokes brings them home as one child. As in Muir, the acceptance of all promises pain. Raine is, in fact, afraid of anything that would take away the pain: "Buddhism;" in her view, ~"offers'release from suffering;~C- hristianity the Cross, heavy with all the anguish of the world, to be lived arid known as the very heart of a Mystery. I wished to understand that mystery, not to be freed from it."~0 In the other poem to be found in the Hours, we read: Sorrow is true for everyone--a word That illiterate men may read By divining in the heart God's human name, and natural shroud. 369 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 In that last image, perhaps we have the echo of the hard-won wisdom of another woman of sorrow, Cornelia Connelly, who saw in "accepted suffering" that "one simple remembrance of his presence that unwraps all the windings of the heart and makes us true as he is true." Kathleen Raine's poetry is grounded in earthliness and suffering, but she also sees more burning bushes than we do, and she seems to be constantly taking off her shoes in awareness of the sacred and the spiritual. She is a reminder to those with other vocations about the nearness of the transcendent and how the Word evokes its presence in a terrible beauty. NOTES ~T.S. Eliot, Preface to Selected Poems by Edwin Muir, London, 1965, p. 10. 2Edwin Muir, An Autobiographov, London, 1980, pp. 30-31. 3Ibid., p. 30. 4Ibid., p. 36. ~lbid., p. 104. 61bid., p. 130. 7Ibid., p. 151. Slbid., p. 205. 9Edwin Muir, Selected Poems, p. 96. ~°An Autobiography, p. 229. ~lbid., pp. 277-278. ~21bid., p. 278. ~31bid., p. 281. ~4Selected Poems, p. 80. ~SKathleen Raine, The Land Unknown, New York: 1975, p. 183. ~6Kathleen Raine, Defending Ancient Springs, London: 1967, p. 55. tTQuoted in Kathleen Raine, The Lion's Mouth, London: 1977, p. 25. ~81bid., p. 49. ~gKathleen Raine, Collected Poems: 1935-1980, London: 198 I, p. 20. ~°The Land Unknown, p. 188. Currents in Liturgy Notes on Liturgy Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Father Diederich has been professor of liturgy at St. Louis University School of Divinity and at Weston Jesuit School of Theology. He is presently an associate pastor at St. Francis Xavier Church; 3628 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. I want to offer a service in the area of liturgy to the readers of the REVIEW by furnishing them with a survey of current literature not easily accessible to them. I intend to focus on issues which are likely to be of greatest interest, namely, those dealing with the relation of present day liturgical practice to the forming and nourishing of Christian piety and spirituality. In the present survey in addition to calling attention to the themes of the national and international liturgical meetings of 1983 about which I have information at this writing, I have focused on articles and books dealing with concerns which have arisen around what I might call our post-conciliar, popular eucharistic practice and interior spirit. Unless I have overlooked some significant articles, I found in my reading that almost all the articles on the Eucharist were something of a critique of present popular eucharistic practice and theory, sometimes imply-ing, sometimes stating explicitly that it is somewhat unbalanced. By way of introduction to the survey of the articles on the Eucharist, I have summarized current evaluations of the overall liturgical reforms and their effect. I have also included a very brief, perhaps overly simplified sketch of the eucharistic piety and practice of the last one hundred years. National and International Liturgical Meetings of 1983 December 4, 1983, will mark the twentieth anniversary of the Constitution 363 364 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 on the Sacred Liturgy. This has set the spirit for some of our national liturgical meetings. From April 19-22, 1983, the Sixth Annual Pastoral Musicians' National Convention took place in St. Louis, Missouri. The title given to the convention was, "Remembering Into the Future." It was intended to help ". musicians and clergy of the United States and Canada to step back and look at the past twenty years--the changes, controversies, and developments of the American musical scene" (quoted from the program). A special feature of the program was a survey of the history of American liturgical music for the last twenty years, with presentations in five different sessions by a liturgist and a musician. The Notre Dame Liturgical Conferences are well-known for their uniform high quality presentations. The Twelfth Annual Conference, June 13-16, 1983, has as its theme, "Renewal! Perspectives on Twenty Years of Liturgical Change." Boston College is sponsoring a National Liturgical Consultation, June 19-22, 1983, with participation by invitation only. "The purpose of our meeting, expressly called a "Consultation," is to appraise the present liturgical situation in the light of (I) the pioneering efforts of the "40s and '50s, (2) the directives of Vatican 11, and (3) the experience of the last twenty years, with an eye to those measures that might be adopted in the immediate future" (from the program). The names of 16 participants appear on the pages sent with the program. It promises to be an important gathering, with a significant number present who were involved in those "Pioneering efforts of the '40s and '50s." The theme of the International Congress of the Societas Liturgica, August 18-22, 1982, in Vienna, Austria, is "Liturgy and Spirituality." When the topic for the 1983 Congress was discussed in Paris in 1981, the need was expressed for greater prayerfulness in our liturgical celebrations. We need to identify the spirituality of the liturgy because, "Spirituality, the life of grace in those who seek to live anew in Christ, finds communal expression in patterns of worship, ministry and service--in a word, in liturgy . In short, worship and piety, liturgy and Christian life.are tightly interwoven" (quoted from the program for the Congress). The 1983 Synod of Bishops is not a liturgical meeting, but its topic should have important consequences for the liturgy. The topic is, "Reconciliation and Penance in the Mission of the Church." The Synod Secretariat at the Vatican sent out a kind of working paper to all the bishops on the theme and invited the national bodies of bishops to reply to some questions which were enclosed. The paper deals explicitly with sacramental penance but does this within the broad context of the Church's mission of reconciliation. We can expect a good bit of writing on the topic after the Synod.~ It is clear from the themes of the national meetings that there is a strong pastoral urge to evaluate our experience of the liturgical reforms, We remember the vision given us through the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy. Notes on IJturgy / 365 The active participation at which it aimed is now in place in all the major sacramental rites of the Church. The changes have given us a new house of prayer. At least it has been renewed, remodeled, and rehabilitated. The ques-tion in the minds of many is whether the post-conciliar liturgical reforms are really renewing the Church. We were very optimistic that it would twenty years ago. We had hoped that the renewal of the liturgy would be the renewal program for the whole Church. Now the existence of so many different renewal programs in parishes in our country makes us doubt that it was. A possible answer, of course, is that we are not giving enough energy and effort to the liturgy. In 1980 the NCCB Committee on Parish Development reported to the U.S. bishops. The Committee stated, "The central responsibility of parish leadership is worship and the spiritual development of the people . In spite of this, the parish activity least often directly addressed in the parish development programs we have reviewed is liturgy . It appears that we do need to adopt a more direct approach to the development of liturgy and preaching."z Pope John Paul II still thinks that liturgical renewal should renew the whole life of the Church: "A very close and organic bond exists between the renewal of the liturgy and the renewal of the whole life of the Church" (Letter to All the Bishops of February 24, 1980). The Societas Liturgica Congress should be a stimulus to all liturgists to take a second look at how the promoters of the liturgical movement in the first decades of our century tried to make the celebration of the liturgy the primary and indispensable source of the true Christian spirit, as St. Pius X said that it was. His pastoral judgment that active participation in the liturgy is the pri-mary and indispensable source of the true Christian spirit, spoken near the beginning of his pontificate, November 22, 1903, has proved to be the most durable of all authoritative pastoral judgments made about the liturgy. It inspired the beginning of the liturgical movement in 1909. It seems to challenge us still. The theme chosen for the Societas Liturgica Congress bears this out. Evaluation of the Liturgical Reform There has been a significant trend in the liturgical journals during the last ten years to evaluate the ongoing experience of the liturgical reform. An Italian liturgist, Domenico Sartori, C.S.J., has done us the great service of making a brief summary of each of these evaluations.3 After summarizing them he identifies their converging points. First, he says that the writers agree that the enthusiasm and pastoral fervor with which the reforms were received in their first stages has waned and that now we find a certain weariness, routineness, and even downright regression in the communities which have implemented the reforms. Secondly, all are basically positive in their evaluation of the reforms themselves. There is convergence around what their positive elements are. These are the emphasis given in the reforms to salvation history and to a dialogical conception of the liturgy, to its ecclesial dimension, to the principle of adaptation, and to the relationship between faith and sacrament. They also ~166 / Review for

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

Issue 18.6 of the Review for Religious, 1959. ; Review Religious Ecclesiastical Formation by The Congregation.of Seminaries A Fuller Sense of Literature by Father Aidan, C.P. ~Examen on Renovation and Adaptation by Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. St. Lawrence of Brindisi by R. F. Smith, S.J. Current Spiritual Writing by Thomas G. O'Callaghan, S.J. Survey of Roman .Documents Views, News, Previews Questions and Answers Book Reviews and Notices Index to Volume 18 321 328 333 346 353 36O 365 367 370 381 Volume 18 November 15, 1959 Number 6 OUR CONTRIBUTORS FATHER AIDAN is stationed at St. Gabriel's College, Blythe Hall, Ormskirk, Lancs., England, JOSEPH F. GALLEN, the editor of our Question and Answer Department, is professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. R. F. SMITH, editor of the REVIEW, is professor of apologetics at St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. THOMAS G. O'CALLAGHAN is professor of ascetical and mystical theology at Weston College, Weston 93, Massachusetts. ~, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Nov., 1959. VOI. 18, No. 6, Published bi-monthly by The Queen's Work, 3115 South Grand Boulevard, St. Louis 18, Missouri. Edited by the Jesuit Fathers of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ec-clesiastical approval. Second class mail privilege authorized at St. Louis, Mis-souri. Copyright, 1959, by TKe Queen's Work. Subscription price in U. S. A. and Canada: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Editor: R. F. Smith, S.J. Associate Editors: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J.; Gerald Kelly, S.J.; Henry Willmering, S.J. Assistant Editors: John E. Becker, S.J.; Robert F. Weiss, S.J. Departmental Editors: Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Ehrl A. Weis, S.J.' Please send all renewals, new subscriptions, and business correspondence to: Review for Religious, 3115 South Grand Boulevard, St. Louis 18, Missouri. Please send all manuscripts and editorial correspondence to: Review for Religious, St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. Ecclesiastical Formation SACRED CONGREGATION OF SEMINARIES AND UNIVERSITIES Prot. N. 541/59 CIRCULAR LETTER ADDRESSED TO BISHOPS ON THE OCCASION OF THE FIRST CENTENARY Of THE DEATH OF THE CURI~ OF ARS CONCERNING CERTAIN PROBLEMS OF ECCLESIASTICAL FORMATION. Your Excellency, Not long ago pilgrims of every race and tongue Were gathered at the grotto of Massabielle to commemorate the centenary of the apparitions of Lourdes. And now, before the echo of these solemn celebrations has died awdy, our minds and hearts turn once more towards France, to a small village of that lalid which was the scene of the apostolic labors of a humble parish priest in whom our Lord saw fit to renew, with copious. 9utpourings .of grace, the portents of His public life. This Sacred Congregation of ~eminaries and Universities does not wish to let this year pass without recalling the attention of future priests to this humble son of the soil. For he, by corres-ponding faithfully with the grace of vocation, became in the hands of God a powerful instrument for the renewal and the deepening of the Christian life in many souls. The life of St. John Mary Vianney has many valuable lessons for the young levite of our own times. In fact, we may say that his message, implemented now by the lustre of his heavenly glory, carries a greater significance than ever before. I. First of all, he shines as an example of fidelity to the inspirations of grace. Once he had come to know the divine will in his regard, he pursued the priestly ideal with a tenacity of purpose that has rarely been equaled. He never allowed himself to be discouraged by the many obstacles which seemed to bar his way towards the goal he so ardently, yet so humbly desired. Rather was he guided always by a most profound appreciation of the greatness of the priesthood. Contemplating that greatness .he would exclaim in ecstasy, "Oh how wonderful is the priest! His greatness will only be seen in heaven. If a priest in this life 321 ECCLESIASTICAL FORMATION Review for Religious were to comprehend his real dignity, he would die -- not of fear but of love." It is this appreciation, this tenacity of purpose, this spirit of dedication which the Church wishes to bring home to the ecclesiastical youth of our time to urge them to cherish the ideal to which the Lord has called them. The present scarcity of voca-tions is a well known fact while the spiritual needs of the faithful are daily on the increase. It is not that the Lord scatters less abundantly the seed of the divine call. Alas! it is the fewness of those who gather it; and even of these, how many put their hand to the plough and then turn back, abandoning the work they have begun. The example of the Cur~ of Ars should urge all who have received a divine vocation to the priesthood to treasure it as a priceless gift. If there is a lack of generosity on their .part, the wiles of the evil one may well rob them of this hidden pearl. To safeguard it, everything should be willingly sacrificed. Clerics, as the very name implies, are the portion of the Lord and have been called by Him to a special destiny. They should, therefore, for their own encouragement and perseverance, be always mindful of the tender goodness and munificent kindness which has singled them out. If "the Apostle, reminding the early Christians of their redemption, could charge these laymen to live as children of light and heedless of the works of the flesh, how much more grave is such an obligation for clerics who are called not merely to share in the grace of Redemption but to follow in the footsteps of the Divine Master as its dispensers and ministers. Let them, therefore, give thought constantly to the gift of God and let them strive to make themsebfes more worthy of the divine choice, making a daffy offering of their youth to the Church for their own salvation and the salvation of their brethren. II. If we look at the figure of the saintly Cur~ of Ars, we will recognize in his shining virtue a supreme model of priestly excellence. He knew that the priesthood had, in some mysterious way, identified him with the one Eternal Priest, the Word incar-nate. It was such knowledge which inspired him to repeat phrases like these: "When you see the priest, think of our Lord Jesus Christ" or "The priesthood is the love of the Heart of Jesus." But even these sentiments, however beautiful and expressive of divine realities, were of secondary importance. For him the essential was to live the priegthood which the Lord exercised through him. Behold him, therefore, the holy Cur~, in the rSle outlined by the Apostle, a mediator for his people, devoted to a life of adoration, 322 November, 1959 ECCLESIASTICAL FORMATION of intercession, of total sacrifice; he too a victim like his Redeemer, ready day and night to implore "with unspeakable groans" the remission of sins, ready always to fill up in his body what is wanting in the Passion of Christ. This closeness to God and perfect conformity to the Eternal Priest inspired in him a deep appreciation of prayer and of the interior life, and were besides the secret of his "extraordinary success. He knew perfectly well that the: efficacy of his work for souls depended above all on prayer and on union with God. Conscious of his rSle as an instrument of divine grace, it was to grace alone that he looked for the success of his ministry. Not without reason, therefore, did the Supreme Pontiff Pius XI name St. John Mary Vianney the special patron of parish priests and those entrusted with the care of souls, wishing thereby to emphasize that the efficacy of all pastoral endeavor is directly dependent on the personal holiness and interior life of the priest. The Sacred Congregation of Seminaries is convinced that in this matter much is left to be done in institutes for clerical train-ing. In view of the attitude of young priests, particularly towards the problems of the ministry, the question arises whether the traditional principles of formation are not being overlooked. In most cases, it is true, there is no lack of zeal for the external works of the ministry; but such zeal, unsupported by prayer and morti-fication, issues only in vanity and disillusionment. The fact is that without the interior life there can be no true apostle. Apart from it the most elaborate and spectacular techniques of organization will achieve little of permanent value. The true apostle, conscious that he is but an instrument in the hands of God, knows that he has other and less fallible means at his disposal. He is aware that a spiritual edifice may be raised only by prayer and the power of grace. His labors will be successful in the measure of his reliance not on himself but on these God-given aids. "Therefore neither he who plants ~or he who waters is anything, but God who gives the increase . For we are God's helpers" (1 Cot 3:7-9). The Supreme Pontiff, Pope Pius XI says clearly: "It would be a very grave and dangerous error should the priest, carried away by a false zeal, become completely immersed in the external works of the ministry to the neglect of his own sanctification . Without piety, the holiest of actions, even the most solemn rites of the sacred ministry will be performed in a mechanical and routine manner, devoid of spirit, of unction and of life" (Ad catholici 323 ECCLESIASTICAL FORMATION Review for Religious sacerdotii [December 20, 1935] in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 28 [1936], 23-24). Later, Pope Pius XII, in his apostolic exhortation Menti nostrae vigorously reiterated the same teaching. "An ardent spirit of prayer," he says, "is necessary today as never before, when so-called 'naturalism' has taken hold of men's minds and virtue is beset by dangers of every kind -- dangers which, at times, assail even those engaged in the sacred ministry. What more effective means can there be of avoiding these snares, what more apt to raise the mind to higher things and preserve its union with God than constant prayer and invocation of the divine assistance?" (Menti nostrae [September 23, 1950] in Acta Apos-tolicae Sedis, 42 [1950], 673). More recently still, Our Holy Father Pope John XXIII, happily reigning, has insisted on the need for an efficacious pastoral apostolate. In his discourse to the Apostolic Union of the Clergy (March 12, 1959), proposing the holy Cur~ of Ars as an apt model for the members, he addressed to them the following solemn considerations: "How is it that in the ministry so much labour frequently yields but meagre fruit? How is it that priests who seemingly neglect no weapon of the apostolate fail to bring back so many lapsed children of the Church who are dead to the life of grace? Perhaps it is because they are not single-minded in their ministry; perhaps because they do not always seek exclusively the good of souls; perhaps also, they place too much reliance on means that are human and therefore frail without giving due attention to prayer and sacrifice." We must insist therefore that teachers in seminaries, and particularly the rectors and spiritual fathers shall give adequate and timely instruction, especially to students approaching sacred orders, on the true nature of the priesthood, its mission, and the means to be relied on in the apostolate. Furthermore they shall be careful to base this in'struction on the traditional principles that are to be found in revelation and have been authoritatively interpreted by the Fathers and the magisterium of the Church. They shall not permit the introduction of any novelty which could undermine or alter the teaching of the Church in so delicate a matter. These instructions must be regarded as of the highest importance because upon the ideas instilled in them during semi-nary years will depend the future conduct of priests in the ministry. III. The loyalty of St. John Mary Vianney to the Church is well known. He had a most tender love for the Holy Mother 324 November, 1959 ECCLESIASTICAL FORMATION of all the faithful. Whenever he spoke about her his face appeared transfigured and his voice thrilled with emotioh. His love, it is true, embraced all the faithful and was not confined to the narrow circle of Ars -- in fact, people came from all over the world to lay siege to his pulpit and his confessional--but it was especially directed towards the visible head of the Church, the Pope, whom he venerated. It is clear from the process of canonization that he sought out every opportunity to testify his supreme devotion to the Roman Pontiff. He could not conceal his emotion when he spoke about the Mother and Teacher of all the Churches or heard her spoken about. He showed respect, love and obedience to his own Bishop "as to the Lord." And what obedience! Everyone knows that he was bent on withdrawing from the public eye to weep over what he called the emptiness of his life. For he was conscious of his unworthiness and dispirited by his increasing responsibility. But obedience, manifested in the will of his supe-riors, wished him at Ars; and at Ars he remained in a spirit of sub-mission and sacrifice. Those responsible for clerical education have here a matter for serious reflection. The virtue of obedience is absolutely funda-mental in the process of forming sacred ministers. It is necessary to engender in them a habit of obedience which reaches to the very fibre of their being. And this is particularly true in times like ours when the demon of pride bids everyone throw off restraint and indulge in unlimited liberty of thought and action. Such a norm of behaviour, hailed as progress, has crept into educational methods and threatens the very foundations of Catholic teaching on the principles of pedagogy. Cases are sometimes met with even in ecclesiastical colleges -- indeed this Sacred Congregation has had to intervene -- where attempts are made to exploit the methods of "self-education" with too great concession to individual caprice and too little thought for the frailty of human nature. To strive to develop in their charges a sense of responsibility, initiative~ and judgment is indeed the legitimate and necessary work of educators. But what must be deplored is the attitude of teachers who are afraid to command lest they invade the sanctuary of another man's mind and do violence to his personality. Such a teacher abdicates his position as superior and renders the very concept of discipline meaningless. It is a false approach; for it is only by discipline that one achieves a strong personality, endowed with that spirit of sacrifice which is required of all those who would follow in the footsteps of the Lord Jesus Christ. By means of this 325 ECCLESIASTICAL FORMATION Review for Religious discipline alone are formed genuine apostles bent on doing the will of God, as indicated by their superiors, rather than following their own c.apricious inclinations. Let discipline, therefore, joy-ously embraced, be the touchstone by which superiors test the vocation of their students. Let them demand an obedience, not merely theoretical, but effective, single-minded, and complete in all things, great and small, contained in the seminary rule. In requiring this obedience and in putting it before the students, let them recall the supernatural motives which are its justification and its supreme model, Jesus Christ, who had only one purpose on earth: "To do thy will, O God" (Heb 10:7). Let them always remember that obedience primarily involves "obsequium," that. is, a total submission of mind and heart which makes our actions pleasing to God. If superiors can achieve this much they can be assured that their students will also acquire the other virtues proper to a priest, especially those, like chastity, which require manly will-power and perfect self-control. For the members of all pious institutes, therefore, the prin-ciple must hold that the rule is the will of God manifested in their regard and consequently of obligation as a necessary means of their formation. The vigilant presence of a superior must not be regarded as something injurious to personality but rather as a help towards securing that spiritual development which is re- 'quired of a priest and is his glory: "All things are yours; you are Christ's; and Christ is God's" (1 Cor 3:22-23). Addressing our beloved seminarians we would exhort them to keep before their minds the repeated teaching of the Church which compares the clergy to an army, carefully chosen and proper-ly trained, ~in object 6f terror to enemies because of its disciplined might. During the long and arduous period of training let them cultivate a spirit of discipline, sound convictions, and an un-questioning obedience to those placed over them. Thus will they acquire that perfect "thinking with the Church" which will enable them. at a later stage, to fight the battles of the Kingdom of God "prepared to act and to endure bravely for the salvation of all" (Leo XIII, Alacritas ista [January 18, 1885] in Enchiridion Cleri-corurn [Rome: Vatican Polyglot Press, 1938], n. 458). However arduous the preparation for the priesthood may be and however toilsome and full of sacrifice the life of the future priest, the reward for valiant service under the banner of the Lord is very great indeed. St. Augustine, who was called to the apostolate in times as difficult as our own, affirms: "Nothing in 326 November, 1959 ECCLESIASTICAL FORMATION this life and especially at this time is more difficult, laborious, and dangerous than the work of a bishop, priest, or deacon; but God's view nothing is more blessed, provided one conducts one-self in the way our King orders" (Letters 21:1). Your Excellency, much more might be said in pursuance of the example of the holy Cur~ of Ars; relevant to the right formation of candidates for the priesthood and therefore helpful to the better administration of seminaries. We have confined our attention however to those matters which have come to our notice through the reports of apostolic visitators and which seem peculiarly related to the needs of our time. We wish to emphasize the need for a deepening of the sense of responsibili~ty in relation to the grace of vocation, to insist on the primacy of the interior life as an essential condition for the pastoral ministry, and finally to establish the formative value of a discipline which is accepted willingly and conscientiously. In this way, the truly priestly life will be protected and developed and it will be able to meet the needs of the time and adapt itself to the pastoral circumstances of the moment, never forgetting the sources from which its super-natural fecundity and its truly noble character derive. We are convinced that these principles added to the essential requirement of knowledge -- which, let us remember, was not wanting in the case of the Cur~ of Ars, for God enriched him won-derfully with the gifts of His Spirit -- are the solid foundation on which future apostles must raise the structure of their priest-hood. Only with this foundation may they go forth, the able workers of the Lord's vineyard "trained to do all good works" as heralded by St. Paul, and the good shepherds described by St. Peter as "from the heart a pattern to the flock" (2 Tim 3:17; 1 Pet 5:3). While we beg Your Excellency to ensure tha~ the contents of this letter are brought to the notice of your students with what-ever comments you consider opportune, we take the occasion to express to you the sentiments of our profound esteem and remain, Yours devotedly in Our Lord, Given at Rome on the feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, June 5th, 1959, JOSEPH Cardinal PIZZARDO, Prefect DINO STAFFA, Secretary. 327 A Fuller Sense of I_iterature Father Aidan, C. P. AMONG THE MANY hardships incident to the student state, the writing of essays was one that could rarely be evaded. Of course, as one realizes -- later -- the correction of these'effusions must have been' an even more Herculean labour. It is only when we face an exercise-book armed with red ink in-stead of blue that we realize that sufferance is the badge of all our tribe. But all the same, we were rather surprised when one long-suffering student once plaintively, complained that we were always giving a religious turn to the development of our thought. "Isn't that a happy fault?" we replied. "Surely you should be pleased that we are so spiritually minded?" and so on ran the ready answers. And I think that, as the unspeakable vernacular has it, we'd got something there; a thought that has often recurred to me when the study of literature is discussed. I think it was Sir Roger de Coverley who preferred his parson rather to deliver the solid sermons of accredited authors than to drone out his own efforts; and while we would not perhaps care to descend to such utter conservatism, we ought not to despise learning aspects of truth, often brilliant and revealing, from the great minds of past ages. "A good book is the precious life-blood of a master spirit," and our own minds cannot fail to be improved by such a blood ~transfusion. Again, it strikes me very forcibly at times when "doing" (horrible word) literature in class that a statement in the texi is a very brilliant facet of a perhaps vaguely realized spiritual truth. One realizes that such and such a remark is capable of application on a plane of thought other than what the author intended. Its significance can be extended to shed a grateful ray of light on some spiritual principle whose full expres-siveness has perhaps been obscured by familiarity or neglect. What the author has said is perfectly true in its context, but it is also more profoundly true in a higher sense. In studying the acknowledged classics of English literature, we are surely not being disloyal to our author if we read with our ear attuned to the deeper harmonies that perhaps underlie the 328 A FULLER SENSE OF LITERATURE chord he strikes. If he has seized and expresse.d some truth for our benefit and we enlarge and enrich that truth on another plane of though't, we do him no disservice; in fact, we remember his phrase with greater gratitude and appreciation. He has l~ointed out the way, and we have followed out his directions with profit. My c]ass--I dare not say my audience--are often politely amused when I mention that such and such a poem, rightly taken, could be used for spiritual reading, and that several class periods could profitably be expended in exploiting its deeper treasures. A poem is a poem is a poem, their looks warn me; the life of a saint is a very different kettle of fish; and never the: twain shall meet. They are good enough to admit, however, when it is pointed out, that there is literally more than meets the eye. Wordsworth, for instance, has written much admirable poetry as well as much abominable verse; "Tintern Abbey" is as good an example of his vein of William the Conqueror as "We are Seven"--that playground of parodists--is of his unfortunate tendency to be merely Silly Billy. Of the joys of nhture he knew in childhood, he writes soberly: That time is past, And all its aching joys are now no more, And all its dizzy raptures. Not for this Faint I, nor mourn nor murmur; other gifts Have followed; for such loss, I would believe, Abundant recompense. This is clear enough certainly. Yet we may need to remind ourselveg that such a Clear-sighted attitude should also be ours in spiritual matters. What if we were mo~e obedient as novices, or more fervent as students? "That time is past." Our present duties are urgent, and we should know how to adapt ourselves to them, without sacrificing one whit of our essential obedience or fervour. With the passing of the years, our charity ought to become less natural, and our obedience more positively vigorous. There should be no sentimental looking back on those early days, no echoing Vaughan: Happy those early days, when I Shined in my Angel-infancy! . How I long to travel back, And tread again that ancient track! for "that time is past." We ought not depreciate the present in desiring again the past. We might as well face the facts: obedience, 329 FATHER AIDAN Review for Religious charity, patience, and the rest in those earlier days, with all their zest and novelty, came easier to us. But we should not "mourn nor murmur" that we have to put forth sterner effort now; still less should we "faint" and, discouraged, relax our exertions. We can surely say that "other gifts have followed," no less real for being less memorable; and, remembering the graces of the Mass and vocation, we should with all our heart believe "fer such loss, abundant recompense." The grace of God, too, has its seasons; to yearn for a perpetual spring is to show bad husbandry. Much Ado About Nothing is one of the most appropriately named plays that Shakespeare ever wrote. Yet amid all the bustle and much ado, there is much of permanent value that we can reflect on. Familiarity~ especially with spiritual things, may breed, if not contempt, at least insensibility. And we who grow accustomed to the daily miracle of the Mass and Holy Communion can learn from the remark of the Friar: What we have, we prize not to the worth Whiles it is ours; ~ut being lacked and lost, Why, then we rack the value; then we find The virtue that possession would not show us Whiles it was ours. Routine can be ruthless, if we allow it to become so; ~ind sheer regularity may prove a mere placebo if we are spiritually run-down. There is a false sense of security against which George Eliot warns us, which "more frequently springs from habit than from conviction," and which consequently persists even after warning signs should have alerted the victim. Our appreciation of God's gifts is a m£tter of conviction, not custom, a conviction which we ,try to make even deeper; to abandon ourselves to mere habit is to run the risk of undervaluing those gifts, even to ultimate ingratitude.: We should try to "find the virtue that possessio.n would not show us" even while we thankfully retain possession. No less than amuse, the elegant irony of Jane Austen can also instruct. Elizabeth Bennet's arch rebuke to Darcy is an example. Darcy admits that he has not the talent of easy conversation with those whom he has never met before, and appears to think that this handsome admission exonerates him completely from any charge of superciliousness. Elizabeth gently points out that her lack Of "masterly manner" in playing the piano is due to her own fault; she has not taken the trouble of practising. Possibly our own shortcomings, especially in the matter of charity, are capable 330 November, 1959 FULLER SENSE OF LITERATURE of similar diagnosis, Perhaps we too do not take the trouble of practising. It is easier to conclude that we have not the talent of a ready, friendly interest in others than to make the effort neces-sary to acquire it. As Jerome K. Jerome well said, "Don't bother yourself about how much nicer people might be; think how nice they are." A search for another's good points can be more profitable .than a murky exhumation of his less taking characteristics. Practice does make perfect, and if we h~ive not attained perfection --and who has?--perhaps the fault lies in our insufficient practice. Again, it seems to me that truths ~cquired in reading can sometimes reinforce by their very humour or poetry some point of. more specifically religious, life; or better still, the life of religious. There are many illuminating remarks scattered about in various places which may give rise to an uneasy searching of conscience, and may even enable ourselves to see ourselves as others see~us. Sheridan was--surely--not thinking of religious obedience when, in The Rivals, he put the following remark into thb mouth of Sir Anthony Absolute. Young Absolute has just affirmed, "I cannot obey you";'and his exasperated parent is led to lament, "You know I am compliance itself--when I am not thwarted; no one more easily led--when I have my own way; but don't put me in a frenzy." (I like that phrase; a religious frenzy is put in quite a novel perspective.) Dickens, I think, holds a mirror up to religious life when the delightful Mrs. Gamp is moved to declare her motto in life. No-one would accuse Dickens of interest in religious, still less of interest in religious poverty; and he has growled in approved Victorian fashion about processions of dirty ragged monks. Nevertheless, Mrs. Gamp's motto does warn us of the danger of too great com-placency in our vow, and indicates--malgrd elle--a practical way in which we can keep it better. "I'm easy pleased," she primly says. "It is but little as I wants; but I must have that little of the best, and to the minute." Indeed, earth has not anything to show more fair than that; but, it is to be hoped, a religious house has. Shakespeare, as might well have been expected, is a fertile source of inspiration. In the matter of chastity, we know, our natural obligation is reinforced by vow; yet, as a modern spiritual author has said, "There is nothing fireproof or asbestos-like about the cassock"--or, for that matter, about the religious habit. Our vow is no vaccine, no injection, to render us immune to attack. 331 FATHER AIDAN And well does Shakespeare understand this when in a powerful metaphor Prospero warns Ferdinand, lately engaged to Miranda: Do not give dalliance Too much the rein: the strongest oaths are straw To the fire i' the blood: be more abstemious, Or else, good night your vow! Finally, there is one very thought-provoking remark--again by Shakespeare--which, by shedding a dramatic light on the great mystery of Redemption, may help us to a richer estimation of its depths. Measure for Measure is often referred to as a gloomy comedy, but it abounds in brilliant lines. Isabella pleads with the inexorable Angelo for her brother's life, only to be told that he is ¯ . . a forfeit of the law And you but waste your words. "Alas!" she replies. "Why, all the souls that were were forfeit once; And He that might the vantage best have took Found out the remedy." Surely even theology would be hard put to it to find a o more succinct reference to the reconhiliation of the outraged Justice of God with the infinite Mercy of the redeeming Christ in His Sacred Passion. Why not a religious turn to our serious and literary reading? And why should not a religious turn to serious and literary reading? 332 Examen on Renovation and Adaptation Joseph F. Gallen, S. J. THE IMPLEMENTATION of renovation and adaptation depends primarily on higher superiors; but they are also the religious whose numerous duties can have impeded or pre-vented the reading, study, and attendance at courses and institutes that are necessary even for an understanding of this subject. The following questions and principles should make such a superior realize whether he or she is sufficiently conversant with the move-ment, These brief questions and principles are at least intended as a sufficiently complete and balanced picture of the nature, men-tality, and purposes of the movement. They should therefore be useful to all religious. The success of renovation and" adaptation depends on the intelligent and willing cooperation of all superiors and subjects. I. General Principles Is my principle rigorously what the founder did and said or also what the founder would now do and say? Do I adapt my institute to the present age as much as the founder did to his own age? Isn't resistance to intelligent and prudent adaptation opposi-tion to the will of the Holy See? Any adaptation should conform to expressed norms of the Holy See; but it is not to be thought that the Holy See will define exactly, impose, or even suggest every necessary or profitable adaptation. A fundamental purpose of renovation and adapta-tion is to quicken the life, energy, and self-initiative of all institutes. Do I understand that the purpose of adaptation is a more ¯ effective use of the means of self-~anctification and of the apos-tolate? Do I realize that everything in the religious life is only a means to its purpose? Am I choosing effective .means? Changing the ineffective? Do I understand that all human institutions ~ are capable of. change? that no human being could foresee all possible circum-stances of all ages? 333 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious Do I realize that any idea decreases in universality of place and age in the degree that it is particular and determined? Do I admit in fact and practice that there are different customs, manners, and demands in different countries, nations, and ages? that all ideas, works, and practices of the past may not be suitable for the present? Am I holding on to any thing that was introduced only be-cause of particular circumstances of the past? Any artificial or affected practice or observance is repugnant to the doctrine and example of Christ. Do I prevent or impede adaptation by the rationalization that it is laxity, self-indulgence, and worldliness? Do I blind myself to the good in adaptation by concentration on its extremists? This is as much lacking in intelligence as it would be to seek the truth of Christianity in religious fanaticism. The greatest enemies of renovation and adaptation are those who hold that its purpose is to eliminate or diminish religious discipline. A regulated life, solidly productive of the virtues dis-tinctive of the religious state, is necessary for complete Christian perfection. Adaptation seeks to retain but to revivify the discipline that is good, to remove the idle and useless, to substitute the better for the less efficacious, and to effect the realization that an oppres-sive, merely annoying, and too minut~ religious discipline is self-destructive. "All counsels by which we are influenced to perfection are reduced .to this: that we be detached from affection for temporal things in order that the soul may more freely tend to God." This maxim of St. Thomas is eternally valid. Renovation does not seek to weaken or destroy but to animate the total dedication by which the religious renounces any earthly affection that could impede the greater love of God. Adaptation cannot and does not deny or enfeeble the complete detachment, mortification, and abnegation demanded by this purpose of the religious life. It strives to find, intensify, and promote the most suitable and efficacious means for this purpose. Renovation is not worldliness but greater sanctity; adaptation is not self-indulgence but more intelligent and appropriate mortification. Am I aware only of the old? suspicious of the new? Do I discourage or prevent talk and discussion on the new by subjects? It is not difficult to discern the blind conservative and the rash innovator. Adaptation is prudent progress. Its purpose is to 334 November, 1959 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION preserve, protect, and improve the good, to change or remove only what is harmful, obstructive, or useless. There are consecrated immutables in the religious life. Only the religious nihilist attacks these. There are also many mutables, and only the blind conservative or religious zealot elevates these to the order of immutables. You are true to renovation and adaptation when your maxim in all aspects of the religious life is: hold on to the good but always seek the better. Do I discourage and repress new ideas in the general chapter, sessions of the council, in superiors and officials? Do I refuse my subjects publications that contain new ideas? Do my subjects understand that renovation and adaptation are to proceed slowly, by study, discussion, and persuasion, not by agitation? The superiors who do nothing are those most apt to have agitated subjects. Do I, a higher superior, read books, periodicals, and articles on renovation and adaptation? attend gatherings or courses that include this subject? Have I, on the. constant excuse of work, cut myself apart from this movement? I should lead the way, and nothing will be accomplished in fact without me. Am I willing to accept anything ~hat will lead the religious of today to greater sanctity or a more effective, ministry? Am I willing to consider any good idea, no matter what its source? Am I searching for or hiding from new ideas? Has our institute contributed any idea to the movement of renovation and adaptation? Do I favor or accept the new merely because it is new? Do I abandon the old only when I am convinced that it is useless, harm-ful, or that something better can be substituted? Do I readily adapt in hospital work, with difficulty in schools, but with much greater diffi5ulty or not ht all in religious and community,life? Why? Is our institute distinguished by a granite inflexibility or a living elasticity? Since the authoritative beginning of adaptation in 1950, what have we changed in our constitutions, customs, observances and practices, prayers, community life, formation, work, religious habit? Can I say that all of these are in all respects fully adapted to the present age? 335 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review [or Religious Is my attachment to my institute so blindingly intense that I believe it admits of'no greater perfection in spirituality, govern-ment, formation, or external works? Love of my institute is a virtue, but not the love that smothers life and progress. Do I grasp the paradox that my institute will remain the same only if it changes? only if it receives the nourishment of new ideas? that otherwise it deteriorates to feebleness and senility? The only one who cannot progress but in whom all others should progress is God, and He is the God not only of infinite sanctity but also of infinite knowledge and truth. We may object that change is not always progres.s, but we are "certain that doing everything exactly as it was done in the past is not progress. Is my principle in fact that the good is what was done in the past and that the new is a synonym for the dangerous or evil? How would I prove that a good idea is better b~cause it arose in the sixteenth or nineteenth rather than in the twentieth century? It is true that to be modern is not necessarily to be spiritual. It is equally true that traditionalism is not necessarily sanctity. Do I realize that only the aged mentality lives completely in the past? Am I not immature to the degree that I refuse to face the present? Do I talk about adaptation but do nothing? Do I consider adaptation an unwelcome guest and hope to effect its speedy departure by my coldness and ~neglect? Are we cooperative and helpful to other religious institutes? Do I think that renovation and adaptation are only for religious women? Nothing is more blind.ing than our own customary and routine conduct. An efficacious way of learning what I should adapt is to go over everything we do daily, weekly, monthly, and yearly with an intelligent and spiritual religious Of another institute. II. Sanctity of Life How many and to what degree do our local superiors have a spiritual influence on their communities? Am I convinced that the holiness of our institute must always be measured by the extent, intensity, hnd constancy of its prayer an~" self-denial? Is conformity with the holy rule the ultimate norm of our life or is the rule a means to conformity with Christ? 336 November, 1959 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION Rule, regulation, and regularity are important, but is our spirituality nothing but rule, regulation, and regularity? Have we little consciousness 0f the interior life? of the richness of the fatherhood of God? of the indwelling of the Holy Spirit? of the person of Christ? of the mystical body? of the life of grace? of the doctrine of Christ? of the motherhood of Mary? Am I disturbed at violations of silence, promptness, and regularity in my subjects but never think of their correspondence to grace, interior prayer, or interior virtue? Is the actual purpose of our institute the devout life, not the saintly life? What proportion of the members of my institute have a low idea of the purpose of the religious life? Is the actual tenor' of the spiritual .life of our institute a challenge to generous souls or the canonization, of little souls? Is our spirituality purely negative or positive? Do we always define humility as the lowering of self, never as the enthronement of God? mortification as the denial of self or preference for and love of God and of the things lof God? Do we curb ou2 passions for self-control or to grow into the fulness of Christ? Do we make God or self the center of our spiritual lives? .Do we love God or self-perfection? Are penance and mortification practiced? Are those who can and do fast thought peculiar? Are voluntary works of penance and mortification found in only a very few individuals? Is the atmosphere of my community spiritually inspiring? depressing? debilitating? . Are the influential members of our institute exemplary or mediocre religious? Do I realize that the fertile mother of mediocrity and tepidity in the religious life is bad example and that conspicuous reasons for this fact are that our religious have not been led to a convinced spirituality and have not been trained.to think for themselves? Spiritual direction should evidently have its proper place, but are the majority of those receiving spiritual direction in our institute religious from whom .no' proportionate profit can be expected? Is our library stiflingly sweet with pietistic books? Are the religi.ou~ allowed to choose their own book? Must spiritu.al reading be in common? Do we ever take Sacred Scripture as our spiritual reading? Do we realize that mental prayer is often weak and 337 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious difficult because it is famished for proper and constant spiritual reading? III. Poverty Do I emphasize interior detachment from material things? Do I understand that moral uniformity in material things is necessary for community peace and fraternal charity? Do I give subjects permission because they get the money or the object from externs? Do many of our religious procure material things or the money for them from externs? Am I permitting or tolerating any custom or practice that is clearly opposed to poverty or that excludes its perfection? Do too many of our religious constantly ask for the newest and best? Do our religious understand that luxury is not a necessity but an obstacle to good work? Am I generous with material things to externs but not to our own religious? Do our buildings, the furnishings of our religious houses, and the personal lives of our subjects manifest to lay people the nothingness of material things in themselves? Do I accept modern inventions and improvements in so far as they increase efficiency but reject those that lead only to self-indulgence and luxury? Am I sensitive to the fact that the multiplication and constant increase of material improvements and conveniences tend to produce softness of character? Do I realize that the emphasis on interior mortification must be proportionately intensified? Is our life simple and poor? Do too many of our religious live an unmortified and soft life? Do we work for, attract, love and are loved by the poor and the working class? IV. Chastity Is chastity for too many of our religious merely obligatory celibacy or is it in fact their quickest means for attainment of unworldliness, of love of God, for clear vision of spiritual realities and values, a life of delicate familiarity with God in prayer and of pure love for others in zeal? 338 November, 1959 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION Do our religious understand that marriage is not sinful or ugly but a good? that they renounce this good for a higher good, the attainment and perfection of the love of God? Are our postulants, novices, and junior professed properly and sufficiently instructed in chastity? V. Obedience and Government My subjects must obey me as manifesting to them the will of God. Is my government so elevated and enlightened as to reflect infinite sanctity, truth, knowledge, and widsom? Do I lead and govern or follow my community? Do I govern according to the lowest level of my community? Renovation is a quickening of the religious life. Have I, the superior, given up all effort to accomplish any-thing? "What's the use?" If I fail, will the community succeed? When I no longer have the vision, energy: or courage to try anything new, it is time to inform higher authorities that I should no longer be a superior. Am I more interested in housekeeping than in the intellectual life or sanctity of my subjects? Are the permissions we prescribe intelligent, reasonable, productive of solid religious virtue? What, how many, and how great are the purely secular norms of conduct that have taken root in my community? Do the ordinances of the general chapter, the exhortations, circular letters, regulations, and general corrections of superiors produce any effect? Do I enforce them? Do I realize that there is a hierarchy of values or does every-thing in the religious life have the same value for me? Could I give an average Catholic layman a readily intelli-gible reason for all our customs, practices, and observances? Are our written and unwritten customs, observances, and practices too numerous? too detailed? too minute? too insistent on everything being done in common? oppressive? Are we retaining customs, observances, and practices that are peculiar? antiquated? formalistic? externalistic? not productive of religious virtues? Is our horarium intelligently adapted to the demands of prayer? work? sufficient preparation for class and study? proper rest? When did we last change the horarium? Do we chart out every moment of the day for our subjects? 339 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious Do I trust only the dlassroom, the chapel, the stove, and the broom? mistrust the r~ligious who is seen with a :book? Are our local superiors mere permissiori distributors? house-keepers? financiers? "public relations experts? principals or deans? Is obedience explained, demanded, ahd practiced-in~ such a way as to hinder or exclude the perfection of other virtues? Do I realize that the independence, autonomy, or rather autocracy of the individual existing in the youth of today demand a more protracted,~ patient, doctrinal, theological~, and: theocentric p~esentation and exercise'in obedience? Are too many of our religious so immature and undependable that the superior has 'to' go around the school, hospital, or institu-tion picking up their forgotten and careless work? In praising the docile, the conformist,"the conventionalist, am I glorifying the mediocre? .' o. Don't I pay an exorbitant price for my efforts to pacify the malcontents and worldly? Am I too fearful or slothful to correct my subjects? Do correct when it is necessary? patiently?, kindly? calmly? with due firmness when it is demanded? Do I correct too often? on minor details only? too frequently in public? too quickly? too impatiently or harshly? . VI. Prayer What proportion of our religious, especially in institutes of men, fail to make the daffy religious e~ercises? What have I done about it? Does our prescribed regime of prayer tend to produce a pious and devout but not a saintly religious? ~ Are we always praying and yetare not prayerful? is bur ~rescribed prayer sufficiently liturgical? Do we under-stand ~hat the liturg:~ does not exclude but presupposes, ~omple-inehts, and is complemented by individual' practices, for ex~imple, the individual ideals of sanctity Of life, correspondence to grace, and: the" individual and private types of prayer and religious exercises, such as meditation, examen, spiritual reading, retreats, and so forth? Have we so many prescribed exercises that there is no oppor-tuni[ y for 'indivi~lual prayer? Do we esteem mental prayer as the most necessary and valu-able prayer for sanctity of life? 340 November, 1959 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION Is mental prayer in our institute a mere formality? Is our mental prayer a mere abstract study of virtue and ¯ examination of conscience, not a turning to,. a living 'in-and with God? Do I believe that a retreat'or any other special~religious exer-cises are a rest or recreation for my subjects? Are our retreats so encumbered 'with other religious exercises and .perhaps with work that the retreat ceases to be a period of deep recollection and reflection? , Are we suffocated by devotional practices? novenas? non-liturgical vocal prayers? Have we any periods of prayer 'so. long as to be unbearably burdensome? so long that we cannot reasonably hope for anything but a low fractional part of real prayer? .- Are our prescribed' prayers so numerous that. fervent and faithful religious find constant difficulty.in.,compldting them? Has the history of the prayer of our institute been ohe of pure addition? never of reflection as to whether the quality and quantity of our prayer were suitable or the, most suitable" for attaining the purpose of the religious life? VII. Formation Do I assign our best religious to the formation of our own subjects? What proportion 'of our-religious. 'are interested in or have ever done anything about fostering, vocations? Does our formation, discipline, community life, and govern-ment produce a type of religious who will not. attract vocations? Do we refuse in fact to admit that an unsuithble candidate lacks a vocation? Are we 'nursing along unsuitable postulants, novices, and junior professed? Do I realize that a middle-aged problem religious is nearly always a fully grown youthful problem religious? Am I nullifying the purpose of the postulancy and the second year of noviceship by devoting the postulants and second-year novices to the works of the institute? How does this harmonize with the warning of Pius XII to bishops that they should not rush inexperienced priests into the life of full activity? Are the postulants and novices give~ sufficient instruction in the religious life? Is it solidly doctrinal? Are they mere passive listeners? ~ 341 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious Do I fear to give free time to postulants? novices? professed? How much individual and competent guidance and counseling do we have of postulants, novices, junior professed, and the younger professed of perpetual vows? Do I praise the juniorate but hold that it is for others, not for us? Do I say that it is now impossible for us? What arguments have I to show that it will be more possible in the future? Can I reasonably hold that a religious is properly prepared for his work at first profession? Am I fair to the religious in assign-ing him or her to work at such time? Am I fair to his students? What means have I taken to help young religious in their adjustment to the full active life? What have we done about a somewhat longer period of recollection before perpetual profession and a period of renovation? Have young religious ever been properly formed when their elders were left completely uncorrected? Does our formation produce a religious worker who can think for himself? possesses the power of self-initiative? self-decision? efficiency? dependability? responsibility? prudence? courage? perseverance? Do we check the postulant, novice, young or old religious who does his work childishly, inefficiently, carelessly? Are we training docile automatons or subjects equipped to face the inevitable doubts, difficulties, disillusionments, tempta-tions, demands of work, and personality clashes of life? Do we realize that a formation, in so far as it is insincere, unreal, antiquated, formalistic, legalistic, externalistic, leads the factual youth of today to cynicism? Do we form the impolite candidate of today into the polite, selfless, cultured religious? Do we guide our young subjects collectively ~nd individually to a personal esteem, conviction, acceptance, desire, and resolve of holiness of life? Do we yield to the youthful religious of today who in their studies so frequently give their attention and effort only to the interesting, the novel, the striking, .and habitually neglect those that are essential? The youth of today are not to be considered as glowingly virtuous nor as irreparably defective. As is true of any age, they have their characteristic virtues and defects; and their most conspicuous defects are merely the fuller development of those found in the generations immediately before them. 342 November, 1959 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION Does our education, formation, community life, practices, and government make our subjects at least appear as antiquated and out of touch with the world they are striving to save? Does it make them appear as aloof and. superior or one with the poor, the afflicted, the unfortunate, the sinner? Have we any permanent plan or arrangement for assigning capable religious to higher studies? Do we properly prepare the religious who are sent to the foreign missions? VIII. Work Do we consider work as a distraction or obstacle to personal sanctification and not as another aspect of the same purpose? Is our formation producing intellectual, cultured, .spiritual subjects? .Are our schools turning out intellectual, cul. tured, and profoundly Catholic laymen and laywomen? What is the level of our schools and institutions compared to those of seculars? Have all our new ideas in education, hospital, and institutional work come from secular sources? What new ideas has our institute, have I, contributed? "Am I ashamed of the qualifications of our school and in-stitutional personnel in comparison with that of secular schools and institutions? Is the cultural level of our subjects equal to that of laymen engaged in the same work? Have I reflected that the publicized lack of sufficient Catholic scholarship may not be due entirely to institutions of higher learn-ing but partially or principally to our elementary and secondary schools? What proportion of students overcome a defective ele-mentary education? Wh~t proportion of our subjects are mere teachers or nurses, not religious teachers and nurses? What proportion of our subjects can be classed as spiritual religious, as proficient and dependable workmen? Are our religious so overburdened with work as to exclude a life of prayer? Overwork is to be eliminated, but isn't it true that very many of the individual religious who are overworked are spiritual? Isn't the lack of spirituality to be found also and principally in other causes? 343 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious What prop~ortion of our religious adhere in fact to the heresy of activity, that is, to work to the exclusion of the ordinary means of self-sanctification? What proportion of our religious do. a minimum of work? Which is more harmful, the heresy of activity or the apostasy of idleness? Are many of our religious enfeebled and reduced to a childish life by an excessive use of television and the radio? Why do so many religious become intellectually inactive after completing their' studies? Do I suspect the intellectuals of my institute? Am I confusing ignorance, incompeten.ce, childishness, and lack of culture with simplicity and sanctity? What proportion of our subjects have the habit of reading? of striving constantly to advance in the knowledge'and practic~ of their matter and assignment? Ignorance and lack of progress in any field of endeavor are not virtues. Few classes of men can do such harm as the sincerely ignorant. An unsatisfactory apostolate is not always caused by incom-petence or sloth. Its cause can be and often is lack of spirituality in the apostle. Do we face the needs, problems, and evils of our day in the choice of works? the proportional emphasis on particular works? the education and formation of subjects? Or are we training re-ligious to meet and solve only the problems of past centuries? Have we at=least a satisfactory library in every religious house? Am I ashamed of the libraries or lack of them in any or all of our religious houses? In the assignment of religious, do I give sufficient thought to the full utilization of their individual abilities~ What have we done to lessen the habitual tension of so many religious? Have we changed an unsuitable horarium? diminished overwork? given a weekly holiday? an annual vaca-tion? removed or lessened added burdens from week-ends and such vacation seasons as Christmas and Easter? given private rooms? allowed the religious to study and do their other work in their rooms? lessened monotony? diminished routine? given sufficient rest and recreation? abandoned the insistence on every-thing being done in common? Is there sufficient sleep? a Sensible rising hour? proper food? 344 November, 1959 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION Would a competent male dietitian give a favorable j~udgment on the diets in all institutes of religious women? Is our norm in undertaking new works the greater nec.ess.ity of the faithful? Is the horizon of. our zeal parochial or universal? Are we undertaking added.works at the expense of the.proper formation of our subjects? Do I. courageously and steadfastly refuse works, even if good in themselves, that would,deprive the religious of sufficient rest and.vacations? .~ : . .Has our institute a foreign mission? IX. The Religious Habit Wliat have we done to simplify the habit to one that continues to express the' consecration to Christ and retains its modesty but is simple, unaffected, inexpensive, hygienic, efficient, suited to the customs and ways of one's own country and nation, adaptable to the changing seasons, easily laundered, that does not imprison the face and head, eliminates starched parts, is of suitable color, not eccentric, not ostentatious? Can w~ reasonably hold that the simplification of the habit is a question that of its very nature is confined to institutes of women? 345 St. Lawrence of Brindisi Ro F. Smith, S. J. BY THE APOSTOLIC letter Celsitudo ex humilitate (Greatness from Humility) of March 19, 1959, Pope John XXIII by virtue of his apostolic power proclaimed St. Lawrence of Brindisi (1559-1619) a doctor of the universal Church. By that act St. Lawrence became the thirtieth saint to be honored with that title, the third Franciscan doctor, and the first of the Order of Friars Minor Capuchin. He also brought to five the number of doctors of the Church who flourished in the latter half of the six-teenth and the early part of the seventeenth centuries, the other four being St. John of the Cross (1542-1591), St. Peter Canisius (1521-1597), St. Robert Bellarmine (1542-1621), and St. Francis of Sales (1567-1622). Childhood, Vocation, Priesthood The future doctor of the Church was born on July 22, 1559, at Brindisi, a town located on the Adriatic coast of the heel of Italy, reputedly founded by the'Greek hero Diomedes on his return from the Trojan war, the southern terminus of the Appian Way, and deathplace of the poet Virgil. The boy's father was William Rossi and his mother Elizabeth Masella Rossi; at baptism the infant was given the name Julius Caesar in honor of Sts. Julianus and Caesarius of Terracina, martyred, according to early martyrologies, in the persecution of Nero. Providence, which was to make the boy one of the most illustrious of the sons of St. Francis, saw to it that he was early brought under Franciscan influence; for at the age of four his education was entrusted to the Conventuals living at Brindisi. In 1573 after the death of his father he ov~ercame his mother's dislike for his desire to be a priest and went to Venice to begin his seminary work in a school whose rector at the time was his uncle, Don Peter Rossi. It was in Venice that the saint first came to have an intimate knowledge and love of the Capuchins; and on February 18, 1575, he received the Capuchin habit at the Verona novitiate of the Venice province, being given the name Lawrence of Brindisi. In 1576 he made his profession in the order and was thereupon sent to the University of Padua to make his studies 346 ~T. LAWRENCE OF BRINDISI in philosophy and theology. The university at that time was the focal point of an atheistic form of Aristotelianism; by reaction the young Capuchin acquired a lifelong distrust of Aristotelianism and was drawn instead to a Platonic way of thinking. The intellectual ability of Lawrence, which had already been noted and fostered by the Conventuals in Brind~si, now had full opportunity to develop itself in the university setting at Padua. His course of studies was brilliantly done; and realizing the in-creased importance of Scripture because of the Protestant defection from the Church, he especially set himself to learn all the languages needed for a mastery of Biblical studies; at the same time the international composition of the student body of the university enabled him to attain a mastery of most of the vernaculars of the European continent. There is in fact good reason for thinking that St. Lawrence was the greatest linguist among the doctors of the Church, for besides mastering Hebrew, Greek, Syriac, and Chaldaic for his Scripture studies, he also had command of Latin, German, Bohemian, French, and Spanish besides his native Italian in several dialects. In 1581 Friar Lawrence was ordained a deacon; such was his ability as preacher of the word of God that he was given the unusual permission to preach publicly; it was the beginning of what was to be the principal.apostolate of his life. He was ordained priest in 1582 and thereupon was commissioned to travel through-out Italy to reinvigorate Christian living;-through his unusual combination of holiness and intelligence, he was able to touch the hearts and minds of his hearers in a way that is remarkable in the history of popular preaching. Doctrinal Synthesis To the end of his life almost forty years later the saint con-tinued his apostolate of preaching. Of his collected works (S. Laurentius a Brundisio, O.F.M.Cap., Opera omnia. 10 volumes in 15 tomes. [Padua: Seminario Vescovile di Padova, 1928-1956]), no fewer than eight volumes are given to his collected sermons. Since the sermons of St. Lawrence are the best source from which a knowledge of his doctrinal synthesis can be made, it will be worthwhile to interrupt the course of the saint's life to give a brief sketch of his doctrine as described in A. Michel's. "Saint Laurent de Brindes docteur de l'Eglise" (L'ami bIu clergY, 69 [1959], 401-06.). 347 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious ¯ " St. Lawrence~ did not conceive of a philosophy with its own method and its own proper aim; for him all speculative thinking is subsumed under theology, of which he distinguishes two types. The first type he dalls mystical theology and.conceives of it as a negative, intellectual proces.s the aim of which is to show what God, Chri.st, the Church, the Blessed Virgin and other supernatural realities are not; this. type of theology must b~ rooted in prayer and it~ s.e.ek~ .to discov.e,r the. spiritua.1 .se.n~.e of the Bible. The second kind of theology is called b~ the saint symbblic theology; it studies the literal sense of.Scripture a~.d a~emP.ts to seek out the secrets of the ph.ysical.u.niverse. ~ Man, according'to St. Lawrence, is composed of sense, reason, and spirit (mens). Spirit receives from God an infused idea of the infinite, while reason, "using sensible creatures, is capable of arriv-ing ;at a .knowledge of .God who is pure being viewed under the 6spect ,of the good. This God of goodness has created the world out:of pure love. To all creatures God gives a general assistanc~ which permits each being to act according to its nature. From this it will be seen that St. Lawrence entered hardly at all into the Bafiez-Molina. controversy which was at. !ts height from the years 1590 to~1604. St. Lawrence's views on the state of the first man' and woman are not-without interest. The state ~oforiginal justice in which they w~re" created was constituted: by a 'gift distinct from sanc-tifying grace;, this gift of original justice is characterized by the saint as'a perfect tranquillity and friendship of. sense and reason. In accordar~ce With this view, St. Lawrence conceives of original sin as the loss of this gift of original justice; which loss necessarily entailed a further loss of sanctifying grace. After sin man is justi-fied by the rectitude of t~e soul when elevated by grace to the supernatu.ral, orde.r. God is the p~incipal efficient, cause of this justification; the Holy Spirit and His gift.s are the intrinsic formal cause; Christ, as exemplary cause, is the extrinsic formal cause of Justifica~!on; while the. humanity of, Christ and the sacraments are the instru.mental cause of justific.a~ion. Christ is presentetl in the theology of St. Lawrence as. the. king of angels and. of men. The salvation 6f the angels revolved around Christ, for. they were assured of eternal life only if they consented to adore Christ. Christ is the cause of all sanctification not only in the sense that He is its exemplary cause but alsd be-cause all graces given to angels and to men are given through the 348 November, 1959 ST. LAWRENCE OF BRINDISI instrumental causality of the humanity of Christ. After Christ the Blessed Virgin occupies the first place among all creatures. She is decisive even in the ca~e of the angels for at the time when the Incarnate Word was presented to themfor their adoration, Mary was also presented for their veneration. Because of her divine maternity the Blessed Virgin was conceived immaculately and given an initial fullness of grace that surpassed the final beauty of all the saints taken together. The motherhood of the. Blessed Virgin extends to all men, for all graces come to men through the prayers she addresses to God. The graces of Mary reach their final glory by the crowning gift of the Assumption whereby she now lives, body and soul, in heaven. Mission to the Jews . The success of St. Lawrence's first Commission .to preach throughout Italy came to the notice of Pope Gregory XIII; in 1584 he appointed the saint to .be apostolic preacher to the Jews of Rome and of Italy. Such was his zeal, his l~nowledge of the. Old Testament, and his manifest affection for the Jews that he was able, as he himself reported, to convert many-of theme All his life he retained h~s interest and zeal for the Jewish I~eople and whenever it was possible would seize the opportunityto preach Christ t~ the descendants of the people who had once rejected Him. This interest of St. Lawrence in the Jewish people is mani-fested in his collected works; for his Explanat!on of Genesis (Ex-planatio in Genesirn), which is the only exclusively exegetical work of his still extant, was conceived and written with the Jews in mind. The commentary extends only through the. first eleven chapters of Genesis. The purpose of the commentary was to achieve a scientific understanding of ~the literal sense .of the book; to achieve this the saint not only utilized the opinions of Christian exegetes, but also made wide use of Jewish commentators on the book. This .use of Jewish commentators makes the work unique in the writings Of the do.ctors~ of the Church. As one writer has put it: ". there is no Doctor, of the Church who. has given such prominence to Hebrew scholars as Lawrence has done. The opus will ever have a special value for the conversion of the Jewish people. For this it was intended; and who knows but that, in God's Providence, the book's mission will find its fulfillment in ways that we cannot foresee.'" ~Cuthbert Gumbinger,-O.F.M.Cap., "St. Lawrence of Brindisi, Exegete," Catholic Biblical Quarter:ly, 8 (1946), 268. 349 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious Counter-Reformation In 1590 St. Lawrence was elected provincial of th~ Tuscany province;., in 1592 he was reappointed .to a t~5-year term as apos- ¯ tolic preacher to the Jews. At the conclusion of this term he assumed the provinciala~e of the Venice province; in 1596 he was elected .Definitor General of the entire order, and in 1598 he became provinc~al~9f Switzerland. Up to this point the zeal and labors of St. Lawrence had been limited almost ~ entirely to the regions of Italy; now, however, hi~ sanctity and his learning were to be given a chance to radiate out into the other countries of the continent. In 1599 St. Lawrence was sent ~o Prague to establish the Capuchins as a source of help for the :Counte.r.:Reformation in Austria and Bohemia. Despite violent opposition., from the Protestants and notwithstanding the . initial indiffe~e6ce, if not the hostility, of the Emperor Rudolph II, St. Lawrence. was able to effect a permanent establishment of the ¯ friars and l~d his fellow religious in a spirited apostoiate to win back Proteit~ants and to '.save lukewarm Catholics from defection. That the Capuchin apostolate was¯ successful can be seen from the words of the papal nuncio: "Thanks be to God, the number of Catholics is increasing . I~ is esphcially the Capuchins who reap a rich harvest.'''~ As a result of, his contact with Protesta~nts the saint com-posed a three-tome work, called An Outline of Lutheranism (Lu-theranismi hypotyposii). The work ~was a long expo6ition and refutation of.Lutheranism together with an apology for the Catholic Church as the only true Church of Christ. This work; together with some of the.saint's sermons; gives some idea of his theology of the Church. According to St. Lawrence, the salvific action¯ of Christ with regard to the human race has a!ways-been¯ exercised through the Church; its.history then goes back to the very origins of humanity, and all persons who have been saved must.be .re~arded as 'constituting the fullness of Christ. The materiali cause of the Church is the entirety of the faithful; its l~nal cause is the glorification "of the ~elect; its efficient cause is Christ, His apostles,- and their successors; and its formal cause is the faith as taught'by the Church~s legitimate rulers. ¯ -~Cited in Ludwig von Pastor, The History of the Popes, 23 (St. Louis: Herder, 1933), 384-85. 350 November, 1959 ST. LAWRENCE OF ]~RINDISI Without neglecting the other marks of the Church, St. Lawrence finds holiness or sanctity to be the principal characteris-tic mark of the Church, for it was primary in Christ's plan that I-Iis people be a holy nation. This mark of sanctity is manifested in the Church throughout her entire history by the multiplicity of her saints. This does not mean, St. Lawrence admits, that every Catholic is holy; but just as we call man a rational animal even though not.every part of him is rational, so also we call the Church holy, not because every member of the Church is actually holy and saintly, but because only in the Church do we find that exalted purity of heart and exercise of virtues which Christ desired for his religious society. Chaplain, Superior, Diplomat St. Lawrence had already had contact with two of the great bodies alienated from the Church--Jews and Protestants; now, and in a much different way, he would meet the third great body that was inimical to the Church--the Turks. Because of the con-tinued military strength of the Turks, Pope Clement VIII had formed a league of Christian princes against them; and St. Law-rence was made chief chaplain of the army the emperor contributed to the league. In 1601 the Christian and Turkish forces met at Szekesfehervar, a town thirty-five miles southwest of Budapest and the place where the kings of Hungary had been crowned from 1027 to 1527. The Christian forces were outnumbered four to one; the generals of the league judged retreat the only feasible maneuver. Lawrence, however, opposed their decision and finally convinced them to attack the Turkish forces. He himself exhorted the soldiers to bravery and went into battle at their head, carrying his crucifix as his only source of protection. For five days the battle continued with the saint always in the lead of the Christian forces; at the end of the five days the Turkish forces had "been routed. A few months after this incident St. Lawrence was elected the head of his order with the title of Vicar-.General. As Vicar- General, St. Lawrence was obliged to visit all the houses of his order from Italy to Spain. He made his visitations on foot and was notably successful in deepening throughout the order the love of Capuchin poverty and austerity. In 1606 St. Lawrence returned to Germany at the request of Pope Paul V to assist once more in the, Counter-Reformation. 351 R.' F. SMITH In 1609 his mission in Germ~n~ was interrupted when he was sefit by the same Pope to Philip III of Spai~i to gain his support of ~h~ Ciitholic League recently founded by Maiimilian of Bavaria. Af~er successfully completing this commission, the saint returned to Munich as papal nuncio; in 1610 while still remaining nuncio, he was also made chief chaplain of the armed forces of the Catholic Leagu~.In 1613 the saint's health was broken and he returned to Itaiy.There he was Minister-Provincial of the Genoa province until 1616. In 1619 he'jburneyed to Lisbbfi to plead the cause of the people of Naples against their viceroy. While negotiating the matter he fell ill and died the{e on July 22, 1619. This sketch of the latest doctor of the Church may be fittingly concluded with the words Pope Leo xiII wrote about him at the time of his canonization in 1881: .".There were resplendent in .him all.virtues, especially those which bring us close to God, faith, hope, and charity, from which all the other .virtues spring and derive their supernatural value. Hence his diligent and fervent love of prayer during which he ~vas frequently rapt in ecstasy; hence his remarkable devotion to. the Blessed Sacrament and his constant grief over the sufferings and death of our Lord; hence his most tender love of the Mother' of God to whom he credited all that he had received from Christ; and hence also his stalwart love of the Catholic faith, his horror for heresy and error, and his rock-firm fidelity to the See of Peter.".~ It is regrettable that little has been written in English about St. Lawrence. The only lengthy life of the saint is the volume entitled Life o[ St. Lawrence of Brindisi Apostle and Diplomat by Anthony Brennan, O.F.M.Cap. (London: Washbourne, 1911). The saint and his activities figure prominently in the second volume of Father Cuthbert's The Capuchins (London: Sheed and Ward, 1928). The best general introduction in English to the saint is to be found at present in various issues of Round Table of Fran.ciscan Research, a quarterly published by St. Anthony Friary, Mara-thon, Wisconsin. Four issues of the magazine are especially valu-able: v. 14, n. 2 (February, 1949); v. 14, n. 4 (June, 1949); v. 15, n. 2 (/~pril, 1950); and v. 15, n. 4 (October, 1950). These issues have furnished much of the data given in the present article. :~Cited in Armand Dasseville, "Saint Lawrence of Brindisi," in ~Round Table of Franciscan Research, 14 (1948-1949), 59. 352 Current Spiritual Writing Thomas G. OTallaghan, $. J. Edification p, RIESTS AND RELIGIOUS are frequently exhorted by. their superiors, rules, and retreat directors, to the practice of edification. They might well:ask themselves, however,, wheth.er they are fully aware of the real m~aning, the ]biblical .m.eaning~ of this word edify, in a rece6t,, scholhrly,, and most interesting article, ' "Building the House Of the Lord,''1 George MacRae, S.J., examines the use of this word in the New Testament, especially in St. Paul, in order to discover what is its proper meaning. To edify in its original literal sense meant to build. But when it was used as a religio~s metaphor in the New Testament, what precisely did it fi~ean; what was being built, who was the builder, and how did he build? In the Gospels Christ uses the metaphor twice: once when He promises to build His Church, that is,'not a structure of stone 'and mortar, but the assembly of God's people, upo.n the rock foundation of Peter; the other occasion was when He spoke of building up in three days the Temple of Jerusalem, which He used as a metaphor for His own resurrected body. Analyzing these metaphors, es-pecially in the light of their Old Testament background, MacRae shows that in Christ's use of the term: the builder is God or the Son of God; what is being built is the Church, the permanent assembly of God's people, the spiritual temple; and the purpose is "to perpetuate God's presence among His people and to provide a vehicle for continuing the salvation accomplished by the death and Resurrection of the Son of God." St. Paul also uses the word edify in a metaphorical sense, but with some variati?ns. In his letter to the Ephesians, speaking of the Church as a spiritual temple, Paul tells his readers that they are "members of God's household, built up on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus Himself being the keystone. In Him the whole building is joined together and grows into a temple sacred in the Lord; in Him you are also built to-gether into a dwelling place of God in the Spirit" (2:19-22). 1American Ecclesiastical Review, 140 (1959), 361-76. 353 THOMAS G. 0'CALLAGHAN Review for Religious Through a careful analysis of this text, MacRae shows that the primary object of edification is the Church itself, to be edified or built in the first place by our Lord. But the task of edification is by no means confined to Christ alone. St. Paul more than once echoes the prophet Jeremiah in describing his own apostolic role as one of building up the faithful. He also at times makes it quite clear that edification is the work of every Christian: "Let us pursue the things that make for peace and mutual edification" (Rom 14:19); "Go on encouraging one another and edifying one another as you are doing" (1 Thess 5:11). Christ Himself, the apostles and their successors, all the faithful --these are the builders of the Church, the edifiers. In what does their edification consist? In regard to Christ, His "historical contribution to the building of the Church was His life's work of teaching, healing, sanctifying, redeeming man-kind by His death and Resurrection." This work He continues through grace which, says St. Paul, "has the power to edify" (Acts 20:32). As to the apostles, they must first "lay the founda-tion" (1 Cor 3:10) by preaching Christ and then "build up the Body of Christ" by their entire ministry (Eph 4:12). Finally, for all the faithful, Paul mentions several explicit means of edification: good example, love, personal integrity in dealing with others. In a word, all the good works that we perform as members of the Church are works of edification. There is one final problem to be considered in order to r.ecapture St. Paul's understanding of edification. If we examine all the pass-ages that mention edification, we find that at certain times the object of it is the Church as a whole, at others the individual member. Paul exhorts his readers to edify the Body of Christ and to edify one another. It can happen that too often we forget the collective aspect of edification and concentrate on the in-dividual. In fact, historically that has happened; and in the process there has been a distortion of St. Paul's original metaphor. A close study of the Epistles shows that he overwhelmingly stressed the collective aspect of edification. "Strive to be outstanding," he exhorts, "in.the edification of the Church" (1 Cor 14:42). The edification o~ individuals within the Church is only meaning-ful in relation to the Church as a whole. We should, therefore, try to rid our understanding of edification of any selfish or merely personal emphasis. "None of us lives for himself," the Apostle 354 November, 1959 CURRENT SPIRITUAL WRITING reminds us. "For if we live, we live for the Lord . We are the Lord's" (Rom 14:7-8). Edification is every Christian's partici-pation in the redemptive work of the Church, the Body of Christ and the Temple of His presence among us. Prayer For St. Teresa of Jesus mental prayer is an exercise of love, of personal love of God. It is an intimate, affective conversation with a loving God. Of the two major faculties which play a part in prayer, the intellect and will, it is the. will which is the more important. For, as the late Father Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen, O.C.D., the eminent commentator on Teresian prayer, pointed out more than once, it is from the will that love and the other basic affections flow; since it is these which are most effective and fruitful in uniting the soul with God, the will must hold the first place in prayer. That is not to deny to the intellect its own importance, but it is still secondary to the will. -In fact, the primary purpose of intellectual work in prayer is to prepare for the affections of the will. But, before the will can love God and pour out affections to Him, God must be present to the soul in some way. Thus, Teresa also stresses the importance of faith in the divine presence. For St. Teresa, then, to be with God and to speak intimately with Him, this is the substance of mental prayer. In the Way of Perfection, when commenting on the Our Father, the saint of Avila laid great stress on one way in particular of being with God. She tried to teach and impress on her nuns, many of whom were not learned in things theological, the extraordinary importance of the inhabitation of God in the soul. This doctrine of the presence of the triune God in the soul she made the basis of what she calls the Prayer of Recollection. Since God dwells in the soul, St. Teresa taught her nuns' to seek Him there, and there to speak intimately with Him as with a "Father, a Brother, a Lord and a Spouse -- and, sometimes in one way and sometimes in another . Remember how important it is for you to under-stand this truth--that the Lord is within us and that we should be there with Him.''~ This prayer Teresa calls the Prayer of Recollection because the soul collects together all the faculties, withdraws the senses from all outward things, and enters within itself to be with its 2The Complete Works of Saint Teresa of Jesus (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1946), 2, 115. 355 THOMAS G. O'CALLAGHAN Review for Religious Divine Guest. Thus, there is a detachment from. exterior things in order to center itself on God dwelling within the soul. This recollection; .Teresa of Avila warned her religious, is not an easy thing to acquire, especially at the beginning.It.demands ener-getic effort and mortification, and the soul should expect this. But if one continues faithfully to make the necessary effort--not only during prayer but. also at other times during the day--then the soul will gain .mastery over itself and will be able, without any great, fatiguing effort, to center itself on God within. ' Onde the soul has found God, it doesnot seem that the Prayer of.Recollection demands, any partidular way of praying. St. Teresa even susgests vocal prayer, that one recite very slowly the Our Fathei~. "Accustom yourselves, to saying the Paternoster'in :this recollected way, and before long you will see how you gain' by doing so. It is a method of prayer which establishes habits that prevent the soUl. from going astray and the faculties from becom-ing restless . I only beg~you to test it." ". But whether a person prays vocally or mentally, the general tendency of the Pray,er ,of. Recollection is .that it easily becomes simplified. That is why:some authors, i~ seems,, classify it as a PraYer of simple' regard or of active contemplation. Since it is not too often that one finds in American periodicals an e.xplanation oof St. Teresa's l~rayer of Recpllection,. some may be int.~rested in reading "The Prayer of Remembering" by Father I-linnebi~sch, O.P.3 Eyen better--wi~h all due respect to the learned author--those who are interested might prefer to read the Way Per[ection, especi.ally Chapters 28 and 29, and study there, the doctrine in the saint's own words. Abnegation Despite frequent substitution for one another, the words abnegation, renouncement, and mortification, although they have something in common, are strictly nbt synonyms, nor are they "used.-in Sacred Scripture as such. In order to determine their precise meaning, the very learned and scholarly Father Hausherr, $.J., examines each of th.ese.words in their evangelical context.4 Since his obser~atibns are most interesting, it might 'be useful 3Cro~ss and Crown, 11 (1959), 174-79. 4"Abnegation, Renouncement, Mortification," Christus, 6 (1959), 182-95. . . 356 November, 1959 CURRENT SPIRITUAL WR.ITING to mention¯ a¯ few of° them. But, because a summary of his explana-tion of mortification might easily distort his teaching, we will limit ourself to a few of his observations on" abnegation and re: nouncement. ~n abnegation there 'is hegation; and to deny (negate) is an intellectual operation. But when the Gospel, speaking of abnega1' "tion as some" sort of duty, uses the word abnegate (a'bnegare), it always has, but for one exception, the same direct object: to deny oneself (Mt~ 16:24; Mk 8:34; Lk 9i23). The abnegation which Christ, who is Truth, demands of us is that wedeny of ou~selves that which is not true. That seems to b~little, but it is ieally something enormous. For the great truth about ourselves is that we are creatures of God; .ne.gatively, that. we are not God. Thi~ fundamental negation cohstitutes the whole essence of .~bnegation, just as the essence of ~doration is the fundamental affirmation that God is God. Th~s~ two truths are reallyo~ly ~ne; there is no abnegation without adoration of God, and no adoration of God without abne-gation of oneself. Thus, abnegation taken in this proper sense will last forever. Perhaps the best° formula of ~he basic abnegation of oneself is that of the Baptist: "And he acknowledged and did not deny; and he acknowledged, 'I am not the Christ' " (Jn-1:20). ¯ " AbnegatiOn then, beipg primarily ~an intellectual" a.ct, an a~kfiowledgment of'truth, does ndt indicate any pain or suffering. On the ~ont~ary, itseems quite clear that there isno reai" happiness except in the truth; and in ~ohfirmati(>n of this, one may point to the joy which accompanies devout adoration. But abnegation, precisely because it is an intellectual act,. does entail some inescapable .consequences. Just as to know God in the biblical sense means to acknowledge and to' treat Him as God, so to deny myself means to ackpowledge that I am a.creature and to behave as such. Abneg6tionzadoration lived out in daily living becomes renouncement and mortification. The Greek word which we translate as .renounce means to set apart, to dismiss (Christ dismissed the crowd.before going ~nto the hills to pray), to take leave of (Paul took leave of the brethren and sailed for Syria). .- ~ .: The commandment of renouncement is contained in the~single text: "Every one of you who does not renounce all that h~possesses, 357 THOMAS G. 0'CALLAGHAN Review for Religious cannot be my disciple" (Lk 14:33). This commandment is addressed to all and pertains to all goods of whatever nature. While abnega-tion means that God is God and that we are not God, 'and consists in neither considering nor treating ourselves as God, renouncement emphasizes that God is God and nothing else is God, and consists in neither considering nor treating any created pers.on or thing as God. This then is an affair of the heart, a disposition of interior. detachment, of spiritual poverty. Nothing may be loved with the sovereign love due to God alone. Renouncement is thus the logical consequence of that basic truth: God is God, and neither I nor any created thing is God. ~ Complacency and Concern During the year there appeared in Theological Studies a very long and scholarly article entitled "Complacency and Concern in the Thought of St. Thomas.''5 It was written for experts in the field. But in another article under a similar title the author sum-marized in a simple and clear way a few of the more practical aspects of the matter.6 It might be of some interest to mention here a few of the points which he made. Human activity may be divided into the two compartments of necessity and possibility. Man reacts to these two in different ways. When one is faced with the possibility of accomplishing something of value, he rises to effort and action; but faced with necessity, he must submit. In order to live, then, with wisdom and get the most out of life, one must see clearly what are necessities and inevitable limitations, and be willing to submit to them; but one must also see what are possibilities, and then react with effort and concern. Thus, there are two attitudes towaid life, each complementing and moderating the other. On the one hand there is the rest and simple complacency which comes from acquiescing willingly to the necessities of life, to what must be. On the other hand there is the solicitude and concern of trying to attain certain attractive possible goals, of contending for what is not yet, but can be. To necessity there should correspond in our life the disposition of "complacency in the good that is"; and to possibility there should correspond "concern for the good that may be." ~Frederick E. Crowe, S.J., 20 (1959), 1-39, 198-230, 343-95. 6"Complacency and Concern," Cross and Crown, 11 (1959), 180-90. November, 1959 CURRENT SPIRITUAL WRITING There seems to be something of this division in Scripture. In reading the Written Word of God we meet at times what seem to be contradictory recommendations. If we examine them, perhaps we will find that these scriptural recommendations can be ordered around the two attitudes of complacency and concern, and that the situations to which they are to be applied correspond to what Father Crowe calls necessity and possibility. For example, we are told to strain forward to what is before, to press on to the goal, to fight the good fight. We must watch and pray, be vigilant; we have to serve God with a whole heart and with all our strength. All this suggests effort, drive, concern for goals which can be attained. Yet we are also told not to be anxious for life, to be willing to accept the order of divine Providence. For if, like the humble Christ, we accept the things which we cannot change, then we will find rest for our souls. This suggests complacency in the face of necessity. Although he does not mention the point, it seems that the distinction which the author makes between possibility and ne_ces-sity is very close to the distinction which many modern spiritual writers make between the signified will of God and the will of good pleasure. At least in practice it appears that they would work out to be just about the same thing. Also, what he calls concern and complacency is very similar to what spiritual writers mean by active and passive conformity. I-Iere also it seems that in practice they would more or less coincide. Perhaps these simi-larities are worth some consideration: One thing, however, is quite true. One of the reasons why many generous and dedicated religious do not enjoy the peace of soul which should rightly be theirs is that they d5 not dis-tinguish carefully between what Father Crowe defines and ex-plains as necessity and possibility. They become concerned about necessities and unavoidable limitations, about things which should be the object of peaceful complacency. (Of course, there are also those who are too often complacent when they should be concerned; this is basically laz.iness.) These souls who find themselves without interior peace, overconcerned and anxious about things which they cannot chan~e, might do well to read this article. They might find there a source of some help. 359 Survey of Roman DocUme nts R. F. Smith, S. J: THE DOCUMENTSWhich appeared in Acta (A~A pSo)stoiicae Sedis during June and July, 1959, will be surveyed in the' follow.ing article. Throughout the article all page references will be" to the 1959 AAS (v. 51). ¯ John XXIII's First Encyclical On the Feast of Sts. Peter and Paul, June 29, 1959 (AAS, pp. 497-531), John XXIII issued the first encyclical of his pontificate. Entitled Ad Petri cathedram, the document was divided into four parts, the first of which was concerned, with truth. The root caus.eof, all the evils that infect individuals and nations today, His Holiness began, is ignorance and even contempt of truth. This condition~ .has arisen, he continued, even though God has given man a reason cap'able Of l~now-ing natural truth and despite the. fact that the Word of God, became flesh to show man the plenitude of truth. Because of the latter fact, the Pontiff continued, all men. must a.dopt the do~trine of the gospe.l; and if they reject it,. they jeopardize the foundations of t~uth, probity,' and civilization and deprive themselves of'eternal life. In this connectior~ the Vicar of Christ warned thos~ ahsoci~t~d with the commucation arts of writing, radio, movies, hnd television to avoid deceit and evil especially 'in matteis intended for~ the ~neducated and the young. In concluding the first" part of .the encyclical the Holy Father lamented the indifference to truth that leads to religious in-difference and eventually to the denial of all religion. The men of today, he remarked, work tirelessly for the progress of human knowledge; should they not, he asked, exercise a similar zeal to acquire that knowl-edge which is concerned not with this earthly and mortal life but with the life of heaven which does not pass away? In the second part of the encyclical, John XXIII noted that from the acquisition of truth there must necessarily flow union and concord. God, he ins.isted, has created men to be brothers, not enemies. To them he has given the earth for their support and sustenance. Accordingly the different nations of the edith should be communities of brothers who should work together not only for their own individual purposes but also for the common good of all humanity. If, he added, brotherly union based on justice and nourished by charity does not prevail; then the world situation will continue to be grave. Shofild a war break out, both conquerors and conquered will reap nothing but disaster and universal ruin, so great is the power of modern weapons. Concord and unity must also exist between the social classes within a nation. Such class distinctions, he said, are necessary; but 360 ROMAN DOCUMENTS just as the different parts of the body form. a symmetrical whole, so also the various classes should by their mutual collaboration realize a harmonious equilibrium. The Vicar .of .Christ completed this part of the encyclical by.urging a similar unity and concord in the family, observing that if concord does not exist there it will never be achieved in society at large. The third and principal part of the encyclical was concerned with the unity of the Church. Noting that in recent times those who are separated from the Holy See have grown in sympathy towards the Catholic Church and at the same time have attempted to create a closer unity among themselves, the Pontiff proceeded to show how the unity Christ willed for His Church is to be found in the Catholic Church with her unity of doctrine, government, and worship. Unity of doctrine, he said, is possessed by the Church because she teaches all the truths of divine revelation as they are conserved in Scripture and tradition and-clarified, by the teaching power of .the Church. The Church's unity of government is easy to perceive: the faithful are subject to their priests; the priests to their bishops; the bishops to the Roman Pdntiff, successor of Peter, the foundation rock of the Church. 'A similar unity of worship is to be found in the Church, for she has always had the seven sacraments and has possessed but one sacrifice, that of the Eucharist. Addressing .himsel~ ~lirectly to those who are separated from the Holy S~e., the Pontiff asked them if this spectaclb of the unity of the Catholic Church .does not answer their own desire for unity; and he invited them to return to the Church which they will find is not a strange dwelling but the common house of the heavenly Father: Re-minding them that the troops of the saints which their nations have already sent to heaven urge them to. unity with the Holy See, the Pdntiff concluded, his plea by s.aying to all those who are separated from the chair of Peter: "I am your brother Joseph" (Gen 45:4) who desires nothin~ for you but your salvation and eternal happiness. In the 'fi~i~l part of the encyclical, John XXIII considered the various member's of the Church. He urged the bishops to fortify them-selves in their work to extend the kingdom of God by ~ecalling the words of St. Paul: "I can do all things in Him who strengthens me" (Phil 4:13). To the clergy he recommended respectful ,obedienc~ to the bishops and exhort&t them never to think that they havb done enough to further the reign of Christ. Having encouraged religions men to live the rule of their live~ in obedience to their superiors, he asked them to be especially zealous for prayer, works of penance,. ~ducation of the young, 'and the care of the needy. He assured the missionaries .of the Church that no enterprise is more pleasing to God than their own. He extolled the role of religious women in the Church as the brides of Christ and noted that their work 361 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious is of incalculable profit both for the Church and fort civil society. To members of Catholic Action he promised a special document later in his pontificate, contenting himself for the present with the remark that the zeal of the laity should be as great as the needs of our times. He consoled the afflicted and suffering by reminding them that we have not here a lasting city but seek one for the future; and he asked them to utilize their sufferings to expiate the sins of others and to obtain the return of those who have quitted the Church. He told the poor that the Church is not their enem. y but rather preaches a social doctrine that aims at a just distribution of material wealth. Above all he urged them not to allow false promi~.es of material goods to lead them to embrace doctrines c~ndemned by the Church. After detailing the unfortunate lot of the refugees in the world today and after describing the bitter situation of the persecute~ members of the Church, the Pontiff concluded his encyclical by .exhOrting all not only to pray for the Church's needs but to contribute to the flowering of the Church by a renovation of Christian living. Allocutions and Addresses At the solemn Vespers for Pentecost, May 17, 1959 (AAS," pp. 419-22), the Vicar of Christ delivered an allocution in which he shared with his listeners both joyful and sad news. The joyful announcement was concerned with the formation of a commission to prepare the work of the projected ecumenical council. The sad news was the worsening condition of the Church in China and .Hungary. After d, escribing the conditions now existing in those countries, the Pontiff promised prayer that Christ, who in founding the Church did not wish to exclude per-secution from her, might give the persecuted brethren cpnstancy and firmness and might bring the persecutors light, pardon, a~d conversion. On the same day (AAS, p. 430) the Pontiff also gave a brie~radio address to conclude an all-European broadcast Of the hymn Veni Creator. On June 28, 1959 (AAS, pp. 476-81), at the solemn First Vespers of the Feast of Sts. Peter and Paul, the Vicar of Christ delivered an o allocution on the liturgy of the feast and its accompanyipg blessing of the pallium. Just as, the Pope said, the brief dialogue between the angel and Mary in the sacred silence of Nazareth summed up the mystery of the Incarnation and of the redemption, so too the dialpgue between Peter and Christ at Caesarea Philippi established the structure of the Catholic Church. Peter then opens the line" of the Roman Pontiffs whose authority extends to the teaching work of the Church as well as to the organization of the Church's work throughout the world. The pallium, he concluded, which is blessed on the present occasion, is a symbol of unity and sign of perfect coinmunion with the Holy See; it is, as well, an indication of fidelity to the teaching of the head of the Church. On July 5, 1959 (AAS, pp. 536-38), John XXIII broadcast a message to those participating in the seventeenth Eucharistic Congress 362 November, 1959 ROMAN DOCUMENTS of France. Telling his listeners that a Eucharistic congress is nothing else than a long, fervent visit to the Blessed Sacrament, he warned them that the traditional practice of visits to the Blessed Sacrament is today neglected and even disparaged by some members of the Church. Accordingly he urged his listeners to retur~ to their homes persuaded of the excellence of this practice and desirous to make it loved by others. On May 17, 1959 (AAS, p. 431), the Pope radioed a message to the people of Portugal congratulating them on the completion of their national shrine to Christ the King. On May 26, 1959 (AAS, pp. 426-27), the Holy Father addressed the Order of Canons Regular of St. Augustine on the occasion of the federation of the four congregations° which compose the order. On the previous day (AAS, pp. 466-68) he had addressed a letter to Bishop Severinus Haller, newly chosen Abbot Primate of the order, 'in com-memoration Of the nine hundredth anniversary of the Lateran Synod which gave decisive shape and form to the order. The Pontiff encour-aged the members of the order to carry out the principal purposes of their institute; and after bidding them to emphasize common life, to reject worldly ways of thinking, and to practice obedience to superiors as to Christ, he urged them to continue that fraternal charity which has always b~en the characteristic of the order. On June 11, 1959 (AAS, pp. 470-73), John XXIII addressed a group of former chaplains of the Italian army. He told them that his own soldiering experience had led him to a deeper understanding of human nature and had also given him a great respect for the priesthood as he saw it exercised by his army chaplains.' Later as a chaplain, he continued, he had come into contact with the wounded and suffering; and their gro,ans brought home to him man's universal desire for peace. Hence, he said, all military chaplains should be men of peace who by their very presence bring serenity to souls. He reminded his listeners that the chaplain should always approach his men as a priest. The men, he emphasized, expect from their chaplains the light of the gospel and of sacrifi~ce; and they wish to see in the chaplain the minister of Christ and tl~e dispenser of the mysteries of God. On June 28, 1959 (AAS, pp. 481-83), the Pope gave a world broad-cast as part of the beginning of World Refugee Year. Exiles, he explained, have always 'been a special object of the Church's solicitude, for she can not forget the words of Christ: "I was a stranger and you took me I ~n; naked and you clothed me . I was in prison and you came to see me" (Mt 25:35-37). Today, he went on, hundreds of thousands of exiles are living in camps and barracks, are humiliated in their dignity as men, and are exposed to sharp temptations of discouragement and despair. The existence of such a state of affairs, he asserted, is an anomaly in a society so proud of its technical and social progress. The Holy Father exhorted all the faithful to cooperate in the Refugee Year and bade pastors to call the attention of their charges to this invitation of 363 R. F. SMITH Providence to exercise Christian charity. He also urged public authori-ties to' intensify their' efforts in behalf of refugees, expressing a wish that-countries open their frsntiers to them: ~ ¯ Five allocutions' given in the June and July issues of AAS were given to heads of state on thei~ official visits to the Holy Father. They were given to the regents of the Republic of San Marino (AAS, pp. 423-24), to the kirig dnd qdeen of Greece (AAS, pp. 424-26), to the president of the Republic of Turkey (AAS, pp. 427-29),' to the prince and princess of Monaco (AAS, pp. 473-74), and to the president of France (AAS, pp. 474-76). Miscellaneous Documents By th~ apostolic letter Celsitudo ex hurnilitate of March 19, 1959 (AAS,. pp. 456-61), Pope John XXIII declared St. Lawrence of Brindisi a doctor of the Church and established his feast day on July 21. By another apostolic letter "Agnes sepulchrum," February .27, 1959 (AAS, pp.,.415-17), the Church of St. Agnes Outside the .Walls was made a stational church (along with the previous station, St. John Before the Latin Gate) for the Saturday after Passion Sunday. On May 17, 1959 (AAS, ,pp. 401-03), the Pontiff's motu proprio Cum inde granted the Pontifical Lateran Athenaeum the status of a univeroity. On June 5, 1959 (AAS, p. 489), the Sacred Penitentiary released the text of a prayer composed by the Holy Father to be recited~by automobile drivers. Drivers who recite the prayer devoutly and with contrite heart may gain an indulgence of three years. . The Sacred Congregation of Rites on January 28, 1959 ~AA~,:pp. 4.8.5-88), approved the introduction of the cause of the Servant of God Mary Ann Sala (1829-1891) of the Congregation of the Sisters of St. Marcellina (Marcellines). On May 8,-1959 .(AAS, pp. 484-85), the Holy .Office issued a warning concerning Giovanni Taddei, priest of the diocese of Biella, who had ,already been suspended and excluded from the wearing of ecclesiastical costume. Since he has subsequently joined a non-.Catholic sect and has received there episcopal consecration, he has merited excommunication and the other penalties of canon 2314, § 1. Moreover he has dared to confer sacred orders on Catholic subjects; such persons, are to be considered as heretics or 'at least as suspect of heresy; moreover their ordinations are not recognized by the .Church and the persons involved are to be treated as laymen in all things including the right to contract marriage. The same Holy Office in a decree of June 4,. 1958 (AAS, p. 432), placed the following books by Henri Dumdry on the Index: Philosophie de la religion, 2 v. (Paris: Presses. Universitaires de France, 1957); Critique.et religion (Paris: Socidtd d'Edition d'Enseignement Supdrieur, 1957); Le probl~rne de Dieu en la philosophie de. la religion (Bruges: Desclde de. Brouwer, 1957); and La foi' n'est pas un cri (Tournai: Caster-man, 1957). 364 Views, News, Previews UNDER THE AUSPICES of the Sacred Congregation of Religio.us there has been issued a volume entitled Directory of the Religious Women of Italy (Annuario delle religiose d'Italia). The volume, which is to be a quinquennial publication, provides a national directory of the various religious orders and congregations of women in Italy. According to the foreword of the directory the Sacred Congregation had four motives in view when sponsoring the publication: 1) The congregation wished to have a clear, systematic, and. complete view of the numerical, geographical, and social situation of the women religious of Italy. 2) It wished to manifest in a concrete way the importance it attaches to the 'use and proper interpretation of statistics on religious life. 3) The congregation wished to offer to all those interested in the problems of modern religious life an objective and complete view which would aid them to give a correct solution to those problems. 4)' Finally it wished to use the compilation of the directory as a pilot study for a future volume on all the states of perfection in the entire Church. The directory is divided into four parts. The first of these gives an alphabetical listing of all the religious institutes for women .to be found in Italy; and for each of them it gives its specific aim, briefly indicates its history, and notes the extent of its existence m countries other, than Italy. The second part follows the previous alphabetical list, this time noting after each institute the location of each Italian house. The third part provides an~ alphabetical list of the dioceses of Italy, noting in each diocese the location of all its houses of religious women. The fourth and final part is devoted to statistical tables on the number and distribution of religious women in Italy. The directory, which costs 4,000 life, may be purchased from the following address: Segreteria del .C.I.S. Piazza S. Callisto, 16, Rome, Italy The foreword of the directory mentioned in the preceding item includes some interesting statistics of the religious women of Italy. The following chart, taken from those statistics, shows the growth in numbers of religious women in Italy: Year Number ofreligious women 1881 28,172 1901 40,251. 1911 . 45,616 1921 71,679 . 1931 112,208 ~951 144,171 1957 152,312 Number of religious women per 10,000 population 9.9 12.4 13.~. .18.9 27.2 30.3 31.3 365 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS The directory also makes some important remarks on the geographical distribution of religious women in Italy. In 1881 the greater number of religious women was to be found in the central and southern parts of Italy. In 1957, however, 55% of .the religious women are found in northern Italy, 24 % in central Italy, and 21% in southern Italy. The July 15, 1959, issue of Informations catholiques internationales gave a panoramic view of every phase of the Church today; from it are taken the following statistics of interest to priests and religious. At the present time the Church has 381,500 priests, of which 116,000 are religious and 265,500 belong to the diocesan clergy. On this basis there is 1 priest for every 1,261 Catholics in the world. This propor-tion, however, does not indicate the wide variations in the geographical distribution of priests. Such variations are given in the following table which lists for each geographical division the number of Catholics for each priest as well as the total number of inhabitants for each priest: Number of Catholics Total population Region. per priest per priest Africa 1,538 16,555 Asia 1,531 75,827 Central America 5,077 5,257 Europe 925 2,510 North America 652 2,685 Oceania 588 3,763 South America 4,569 5,030 The same source reports that at present there are 283,640 men religious in the world; 58% of these are in Europe; 16% in North America, 14% in Latin America, 6% in Africa, 4.5% in Asia, and 1.5% in Oceania. Religious women of the world number about 930,000; of these 61% are in Europe, 21% in North America, 8% in Latin America, 4% in Asia, 2% in Africa, and 4% in Oceania. The United States and Italy together have one-third of the religious women in the world. September 27, 1960, will mark the three hundredth anniversary of the death of St. Vincent de Paul. The Vincentian Fathers and the Daughters of Charity throughout the world will celebrate this anni-versary of their founder by an entire preparatory Year of Observance. The year began in September, 1959, and will extend through September, 1960. Those interested in more information about the year may con-tact: Tercentenary Observance Committee, The Vincentian Fathers, 500 E. Chelten Avenue, Philadelphia 44, Pennsylvania. 366 ( uestions Answers [The following answers are given by Father Joseph F. Gallen, S. J., professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland.] I believe that the proportion of very elderly members in the general chapters of our congregation of sisters is constantly too great. I admit the validity of the argument of wisdom and ex-perience, but this does not demand that so many capitulars be from the highest age level. Many elderly religious are simply out of touch. They understand neither the youth of today nor today itself. Is there any system of delegates that. apportions the delegates according to various age levels? I agree completely with the reasoning of this questioner. I know of no such system of delegates that has been actually approved by the Holy See, but one pontifical institute is considering a system of the following type for presentation to the Sacred Congregation. 1. In the election of delegates to the general (provincial) chapter, only the sisters of perpetual vows have active and passive voice. These sisters shall elect twenty-four delegates. 2. From a prepared list containing the names of all local superiors then in office, each sister shall vote for six delegates. 3. The mother general (provincial), with the consent of her council, will have divided into three equal groups according to precedence from first profession the sisters of perpetual vows who are neither local superiors nor members of the general (provincial) chapter in virtue of any office. She will also have made clear to the vocals just what sisters are in each group. 4. At the same time as the election of the superior delegates, each sister shall vote for six delegates from each of these three groups. This voting will be done on a ballot marked group 1, group 2, group 3. 5. In each house, on the day determined in the letter of convocation, the sisters shall assemble under the presidency of their local superior. The latter shall collect all the ballots without inspecting them and enclose them with her own ballots in an envelope, which she shall seal in the presence of the electors. She shall write on this inner envelope, "Election of Delegates, House N." and forward it immediately to the mother general (provincial). 6. As soon as possible after all the envelopes have been received, the mother general (provincial), with her council, shall open the envelopes and count the votes. The secretary general (provincial) shall record the votes. The elections are decided by a relative majority. The sub-stitutes are the local superiors and sisters of each group who in order received the next highest number of votes (c. 174; 101, § 1, 1°). 367 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religious The first article is to be omitted if stated elsewhere in the con-stitut. ions. Perpetual vows for a determined number of years may be demanded for passive voice or also for active voice, for example, of perpetual vows for at least five years. The delegates will be elected for the provincial chapter; if the institute is divided into provinces; other-wise for the general chapter. This system, as is true in general of group systems, will maintain the same number in the general or provincial chapter not~.'thstanding any increase in the number of members of the institute or province. I believe that the numbe~ in a chapter of lay i~stitutes should not be greater than forty. A chapter of fifty or more becomes progressively unwieldy and inefficient. The chapters of many clerical institutes are also too large for efficiency. Ordinarily seven general and provincial officials are members of the general or provincial chapter. There are frequently two or three added .members, for ~example, forme~ superiors general in the general, chapter. The present system would therefore givea chapter of thirty-one to thirty-five members. Some may prefer to elect twenty-eight delegates. The present system would give a proportion of eighteen subjects to thirteen superiors and officials, which seems appropria.te. ~. Local superiors are eligible by the mere fact that they hold this office. It does not seem practical to divide ttiem also accordihgto preceden~ce.The oldest eligible sisters will be in group one, the middle level in group two, and the youngest in group three. If the total numbe~ does not permit a division into three perfectly equal groups, the added members, according to the general norm of precedence, will be in the older group, for example, 51, 50, .50, or 51, 51, 50. A provincial chapter ordinarily elects two delegates to the general chapter, rarely three or four. The same system may be employed for these delegates by dividing the eligible .sisters into two, three, or four groups. Article six'states that the 'substitutes are thos~e who in order re-ceived the next highest number of votes. Therefore,' no matter how many substitutes are required or how many substitutes are also pre-vented from attending, the places are filled by taking'those with'the next highest number of votes. In institutes divided into provinces, it may be established that this norm of substitution from the. first group applies also to the mother provincial, if she cannot attend" the general chapter. Any tie vote is broken by the u~ual norm of lay institutes, that is, by seniority of first profession; but if the sisters made their first pro-fession on the same day, by seniority of age- I presume that this norm was previously stated i~i the constitutions in a ~eneral article on the number of votes required for an election. 368 November, 1959 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Religious institutes appear to me to be outstandingly lacking in cooperation with other religious institutes. The religious of one institute are at least very frequently aloof and distant in their attitude to other religious, and the institutes themselves often appear more as rivals than partners in carrying out the work of Christ. This does not seem to me to conform to the concept of the Mystical Body. Even in the Church of Chris~, we can have the human failing of being so intent on ourselves and our own work as to forget and neglect others. This is possible in religions and religions institutes; it is equally possible in other parts of the Church, for example, in the relation of one diocese to another and of the Church in one country in relation to the faithful in another. Love of our own nation can so readily and falsely lead ns to the unalterable assumption of its superiority over° ,other nations in everything and the same self-deception can occur with regard to our own institute.- The greatness of an institute i~ not necessarily the measure of such dorporate pride. Pride is not confined to the powerful and rich; it can be more intense, pervasive, and harmful in the weak and poor. Abbe Baechler aptly and beautifully expresse~ the right principle in this matter. It is noticeable that our time, in which institutions and customs change so rapidly and present so many problems, shows a special predilection for the dodtrine of the Mystical Body. It is equally providential that, not content with admiring the doctrine, it should be eager to make use of it in its life; to work together, to pray together, to collaborate as a team, all this is a distinctive feature of the young people of today. The "s~nse of the Church" is developing, and is inspiring many realizations from the top of the hier-archical ladder down to the least of the faithful. To have the "sense of the Church" will mean for a congregation and its members, first of all conscious-ness of being a part of Christ's great family, a branch of the Sacred Vine, a member of the Mystical Body. One of the first consequences of this great awakening will be a feeling of dependence and humility, very necessary in religious life; w~ are not a Whole, but a part: Christ is the whole: omnia in omnibus. This is the way to fight against .a kind of collective individualism, if I may say so, a kind of feeling of perfection and fullness, as well as of family exclusiveness, not unheard of in congregations, especially when they are large and well organized. Individual members feel so well off there that they think they can suffice to themselves. Actually, however glorious the history of an institute may be, however perfect its Constitutions, however enlightened its Superiors, it remains the servant of Christ and of His Church that prolongs and extends Him. It is not an only child; it has many b~oth~rs and sisters. Certainly it is not only legitimate but even h0nourable to be proud of one's Order, of its past, of its great men. But we must not for all that forget the Church,' nor despise the other members of the Mystical Body. St. Francis de Sales exhorted the Sisters of the Visitation in a charming page to complete their personal humility by collective humility: they were to look on theirs as the smallest and last of religious congregations, though they are to love it more than all the others, just as a child prefers his mother to any other woman even although there are others more .beautiful. (Communal Life, 200-201.) Although greater cooperation is always possible and desirable, I belieYe that the religions institutes of our time have not only awakened 369 BOOK REVIEWS Review [or Religious to the necessity but have manifested a heartening spirit of cooperation. This has been evident in the activities of educational and hospital associations; the confederations of higher superiors; the federations of monasteries of nuns; religious congresses, institutes, and workshops; and especially in so many aspects of the sister formation movement. Doesn't renovation and adaptation really imply reform? All writers deny this; but, if renovation means an increase of fer~?,or, doesn't this imply a reprehensible lack of fervor in the past? Renovation and adaptation can be said to imply reformation or reform only if these are taken in the sense of making better or improving, not if they imply moral evil or abuses in the past. The purpose of renovation and adaptation is not the correction of evil but the elimina-tion of a blind, unswerving, and material conformity to everything done in the past and of the lack of a true, constant, and universal spirit of progress. "A true adaptation is a modification of the constitutions and observances for a better realization of the spirit of the founder in given circumstances. The true adaptation arises not from a lessening of life but from an increase of fervor. The more fervent the life, the better it adapts itself" (Most Reverend A. Ancel in Acta et Documenta Congressus Generalis de Statibus Perfectionis, I [Rome: Pia Societh San Paolo, 1952], 124). "Even the Church has always admitted a certain evolution that the circumstances rendered necessary. Anyone who is opposed in principle to adaptations does not possess the spirit of the Church" (Ancel, ibid.). "The purpose is to give a new impetus to the religious life by rendering easier the development of its ti-ue values and remSving the obstacles in its externals that were established in human and social circumstances of life different from our own, no longer have any reason for existence, and can be profitably replaced by others that take. into account the changed conditions of life" (Reverend Gabriel of Saint Mary Magdalene, .O.C.D., ibid., 139). Booh Reviews [Material for this department should be sent directly to Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana.] THE BRIDE: ESSAYS IN THE CHURCH. By Daniel Berrigan, S.J. New York: Macmillan, 1959. Pp. 142. $3.50. The excellence of this book of reflections on the Church and her meaning in sacred history and in the life of the Christian will come as no surprise to those who have read Father Berrigan's highly acclaimed volume of poems, Time Without Number. This second book is not easy to classify; the publisher's 370 November, 1959 BooK REVIEWS dust jacket refers to it as a theological prose-poem; perhaps "variations on some theological themes" would serve as a description. In any case, The Bride is eminently worth reading, an unusually moving and beautiful book. Various chapters deal with Israel and her role in the history of salva-tion; with the event of the Incarnation; with the Church as extension of the incarnate Word; the Kingdom in history; the meaning of person in the light of faith; the Christian's knowledge of redeemed creation; the mission of the Church; various elements of the Christian life -- prayer, suffering, the sacrifice of the Mass, fulness in the Church, the saints. Throughout, every-thing is seen in the light of the risen Lord living in His Church. In every chapter the fine sensibility and intelligence of the poet accom-panies uncommon spiritual insight into the theological realities which bear on Christian existence and the ecclesial life~ and again and again the quality of Father Berrigan's writing wonderfully renews what it touches. True, The Bride is not, as Time Without Number was not, an "easy" book. The author is often content to "reveal" a truth in quick bold strokes, rapidly suggest its relevance, and pass on to other reflections. The unity of the chapters, as of the entire book, is to be looked for in the insights which illuminate various aspects of the themes treated. If the reading sometimes proves difficult (we trust the preparation of a second edition will allow the more painstaking editing this book deserves), it is nonetheless invariably rewarding. One hopes that this work will reach the hands of all thoughtful Christians --those above all who are engaged in various forms of the apostolic life--who need just such food for their minds and hearts as this. Religious will find here much that is fresh and valuable for their prayer and reflection, much to quicken true Christian love and apostolic concern. Few books we know impart so well and with such sincerity the breadth and beauty of the Christian vision and. the sense of the imperiousness anal urgency of the Christian vocation to share in the labor of the redemption.--C. G. AR~VALO, S.J. THE BIBLE IN THE CHURCH. By Bruce Vawter, C.M. New York: Sheed and Ward, 1959. Pp. 95. Paper $.75. PATTERN OF SCRIPTURE. By Cecily Hastings, Vincent Rochford, and Alexander Jones. New York: Sheed and Ward, 1959. Pp. 96. Paper $.75. Father Vawter, whose clarity of expression is happily matched by his ind.ustry, states his purpose in the first sentence of his foreword: "This little book is intended as a brief explanation of the role played by the Bible in the life of the Catholic Church." On this basis he divides his material into

Issue 43.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1984. ; Pliz~hhihg :the N~Vitiate Process = °~i"~ !~ta~D o"es a Religious Institute Owe Its Members? :,~-~:: A Retreat for the Eighties Volume 43 Number 4 July/August, 1984 RE\'~w FOR Rl~.~(;~otJs ( ISSN 0034-639X). published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. I.ouis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis. MO 63108. Rt-:v~l-:w t:oR Rl~t.l~;~otJs is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus. St. Louis. MO. © 1984 by Rl~v~l~w ~:OR Rl~l.l~;~Ot~S, Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. I.ouis. MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $10.00 a year: $19.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per ycar (postage). For subscription orders or change of address, write Rl-:Vll.:W ~-oR R~.:t.t~;~otls: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806, Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor July/August, 1984 Volume 43 Number 4 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be senl to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW I-'OR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprinls are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Redemptionis Donum: An Expression of Love for Religious John Paul H In his letter of April 3, 1983, to the bishops of the United States inviting them "to render special pastoral service to the religious" of their dioceses and country, Pope John Paul wrote: ". as pastors of the Church, w~ must proclaim over and over again that the vocation to religious life God gives is linked to his personal love for each and every religious." Redemptionis'Donum is a solemn instance of his own efforts to do just that. As such, it forms a fitting cap to the series of articles REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS has been publishing in recent issu.es in support of.this episcopal ministry to religious. The text which follows is taken from Origins, April 12, 1984, vol. 13: no. 44. Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ Jesus: 1. The gift of the redemption, which this extraordinary Jubilee Year emphasizes, brings with it a particular call to conversion and reconciliation with God in Jesus Christ. While the outward reason for this extraordinary jubilee is of a historical nature--for what is being celebrated is the 1,950th Anniversary of the Crucifixion and Resurrection--at the same time it is the interior motive that is dominant, the motive that is connected with the very depth of the Mystery of the Redemption. The Church was born from that mystery, and it is by that mystery that she lives thrrughout her history. The period of the extraordinary jubilee has an .exceptional character. The call to conversion and reconciliation with God means that we must meditate more deeply on our life and our Christian vocationqn the light of the Mystery of the Redemption, in order to fix that lift and vocation ever more firmly in that mystery. While this call concerns everyone in the Church, in a special way it con-cerns you, men and women religious, who, in your consecration to God through the vows of the evangelical counsels, strive toward a particular fullness of Christian life. Your special Vocation, and the whole of your life in the 481 41~2 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 Church and the world, take their character and their spiritual power from the same depth of the Mystery of Redemption. By following Christ along the "narrow and., hard" way,~ you experience in an extraordinary manner how true it is that "with him is plenteous redemption" (copiosa apud eum redempti.o)? 2. Therefore, as this Holy Year moves toward its close, 1 wish to address myself in a particular way to all of you, men and women religious, who are entirely consecrated to contemplation or vowed to the various works of the apostolate. I have already done so in numerous places and on various occasions, confirming and extending the evangelical teaching contained in the whole of the Church's tradition, especially in the magisterium of the recent ecumenical council, from the dogmatic constitution ~Lumen Gentium to the decree Perfec-tae Caritatis, in the spirit of the indications of the apostolic exhortation Evan-gelica Testificatio of my predecessor Paul VI. The Code of Canon Law, which recently came into force and which can in a way be considered the final conciliar document, will be for all of you a valuable aid and a sure guide in concretely stating the means for faithfully and generously living your magnificent vocation in the Church. 1 greet you with the affection of the Bishop of Rome and Successor of St. Peter, with whom your communities are united in a characteristic way. From the same See of Rome there also reach you, with an unceasing echo, the words of St. Paul: "I betrothed you to Christ, to present you as a pure.bride to her one husband.'~ The Church, which receives, after the apostles, the treasure of marriage to the divine Spouse, looks with the greatest love toward all her sons and daugh-ters who, by the profession of the evangelical counsels and through her .own mediation, have made a special covenant with the Redeemer of the World. Accept this word of the Jubilee Year of the Redemption precisely as a word of love~ spoken by the Ch'urch for you. Accept it, wherever you may be: in the cloister, of the contemplative communities or in the commitment to the many different forms of apostolic service--in the missions, in pastoral work, in hospita!~s or other places where the suffering are served, in educational institu-tions: schools or Universities--in fact in every one of your houses where, "gathered in the name of Christ," you live in the knowledge that the Lord is "in your midst.TM May the Church's loxiing word, addressed to you in the Jubilee of the Redemption, be the reflection of that loving word that Christ himself said to each one of you when he spoke one day that mysterious "follow me"~ fxom which your vocation in the Church began. Vocation And Jesus, Looking Upon Him, Loved Him 3. "Jesus, looking upon him, loved himTM and said to him, "If you would Redemptionis Donum / 48:3 be perfect, go, sell what you have, and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.'n Even though we know that those words addressed to the rich young man were not accepted by the one being called, their content deserves to b~ carefully reflected upon, for they present the interior structure of a vocation. "And 3esus,~looking upon him, loved him." This is the love of the Redeemer: a love that flows from all the human and divine depths of the redemption. This love reflects the eternal love of the Father who "so loved the World that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.TM ,~ The Son, invested with that love, accepted the mission from the Father .in the Holy Spirit, and became the Redeemer of the World. The Father's love was revealed in the Son as a redeeming love. It is precisely this love that constitutes the true price of the redemption of man and of the world. Christ:s apostles speak of the price of the redemption with profound emotion: "You were ransomed., not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot," writes St. Peter.9 And St. Paul states: "You were bought with a price."'° The call to the way of the evangelical counsels springs from the interior encounter with the love~ of Christ which is a redeeming love. Christ calls precisely through this love of his. In the structure of a vocation, the encounter with ,this love becomes ,something specifically personal. When Christ "looked upon you and loved you," calling each one of you, dear religious, that redeem-ing love of his was directed toward a particular person, and at the same time, it took on a spousal character: it became a love of choice. This love embraces the whole person, soul and body, whether man or woman, in that person's unique and unrepeatable, personal "1." The one who, given eternally to the Father, "gives" himself in the Mystery of the Redemp-tion, has now called a human person in order that he or she, in turn, should give himself or herself entirely to the work of the redemption through member-ship in a community of brothers or sisters, recognized and approved by the Church. Surely it is precisely to this call that St. Paul's words can be applied: "Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit.? You are not your own; you were bought with a price."~ Y~es, Christ's love has reached each one of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, with that same "price" of the redemption. As a consequence of this, you have realized that you are not your own, but you ~belong to Christ. This ,new awareness was the fruit of Christ's "loving look" into the secret place of your heart. You replied to that look by choosing him who first chose each one of you, calling you with the measurelessness of his. redeeming love. Since he calls "by name," his call always appeals to human freedom. Christ says: "If you wish . "And the response to this call i§, therefore, a free choice. You have chosen Jesus of Nazareth, Redeemer of the World, by choosing the way that he has shown you. tll~4 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 If You Wish to .Be Perfect. 4. This way is also called the, way of perfection. Speaking to the young man, Christ says: "If you wish to be perfect . "Thus theidea of the "way of perfection" has its motivation in the very Gospel source itself. Moreover, do we not hear, in the Sermon on the Mount: "You, therefore, must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect"?.~2 The calling of man to perfection was perceived in a certain way by the thinkers and moralists of the ancient world, and also afterward, at different periods of history. But the biblical call has a completely original nature. It is particularly demanding when it indicates to man perfection in the likeness of God °himself.~3 Precisely in this form; the call corresponds to the whole of the internal logic of revelation, according to which man was created in the image and likeness of God himself. He must therefore seek the perfection proper to him in the line of this image and likeness. As St. Paul will write in the Letter to the Ephesians: "Therefore be imitators of God as beloved children. And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself upfor us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God."~4 Thus the call to perfection belongs to the very essence of the Christian vocation. It is on the basis of this call that we must also understand the words which Christ 'addressed to the young man in the Gospel. These words are in a particular way linked to the mystery of the redemp-tion of man in the world~ For this redemption gives back to God the work of creation which had been contaminated by sin--showing the perfection which the whole of creation, and in particular man, possesses in the thought and intention of God himself. Especially man must be given and restored to God if heis to be fully restored to himself. From this comes the eternal call: "Return to me, for I have redeemed you.''15 Christ's words, "If you wish to be perfect, go, sell what you have, and give to the poor" clearly brings us into the sphere of the evangelical counsel of poverty--which belongs to the very essence of the religious vocation and profession. At the same time, these words can,be understoodin a wider and, in sense, an essential way. The Teacher from Nazareth invites the person he is address-ing to renounce a program of life in which the first place is seen to be occupied by the category of possessing, of "h'aving," and to accept in its place a program centered upon the value of the human person, upon personal "being"---with all the transcendence that is proper to it. Such an understanding of Christ's words constitutes, as it were, a wider setting for the ideal of evangelical poverty, especially that poverty which, as an evangelical counsel, belongs to the essential content of your mystical marriage with the divine Spouse in the Church. Reading Christ's words in the light of the superiority of "being" over "having," especially if the latter is understobd in a materialistic and utilitarian Redemptionis Donum / 485 sense, we, as it were, touch the very anthropologial bases of vocation in the Gospel. In .the framework of the development of contemporary civilization, this is a particularly relevant discovery. And for this reason, the very vocation to "the way of perfection" as laid down. by Christ becomes equally relevant. In today's civilization, especially in the context of the world of a well-being that is based on consumerism, man bitterly experi¢nces the essential incom-pleteness of personal "being" which affects his humanity because of the abund-antand various forms of "having." He then becomes more inclined to accept this truth about vocation which was expressed once and for all in the Gospel. Yes, the call which you, dear Brothers and Sisters, accepted when you set out on the way of religious profession touches upon the very roots of human-ity, the roots of man's destiny in the temporal world. The evangelical "state of perfection'~ does not cut you off from these roots. On the contrary, it enables you to anchor yourselves even more firmly ih the elements that make man man, permeating this humanity which, in various ways, is burdened by sin, with the divine and human leaven of the Mystery of Redemption. You Will Have Treasure in Heaven " Vocation carries with it th6 answer to the question: Why be a human person--and how? This answer adds a new dimension to the whole of life and establishes its definitive meaning. This meaning emerges against the back-grou'nd of the Gospel paradox of losing one's life in order to save it--and on the other hand, saving one's life by losing it "for Christ's sake and for the sake of the Gospel," as we read in Mark.t6 In the light of these words Christ's call becomes perfectly clear: "Go, sell what you possess ~nd give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.''t7 Between this "go" and the subsequent "come, follow me'; there is a close connection. It can be said that these latter words determine the very essence of a vocation. For a vocation is a matter of following the footsteps of Christ (sequi: to follow, hence sequela Christi). The terms "go. sell.' give" seem to lay down the precondition of a vocation. Nevertheless, this condition is not "external" to a vocation, but is already inside it. For a person, discovers the new sense of his or her humanity, not only in order "to follow" Christ, but to the extent that he or she actually does follow him. When a person does "sell what he possesses" and "gives it to the poor," he discovers that those possessions, and the comforts he enjoyed, were not the treasure to hold on to. That treasure is in his heart, which Christ makes him capable of"giving" to others b~y the giving of self. The rich person is not the one who possesses, but the one who "gives," the one who is capable of giving. At this point tile Gospel paradox becomes particularly expressive. It becomes a program of being. To be poor in the sense given to this "being" by 4116 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 the Teacher from Nazareth is to become a dispenser of good through one's own human condition. This also means to discover "the treasure." This treasure is indestructible. It passes, together with man, into the dimension of the eternal. It belongs to the divine eschatology of man. Through this treasure man has his definitive future in God. Christ says: "You will have treasuie in.heaven." This treasure is not so much a "reward" after death for the good works done following the example of the Divine Teacher, but rather the eschatological fulfillment of what was liidden in these good works here on earth, in the inner "treasure" of the heart. Christ himself, in fact, when he invited his hearers, in the Sermon on the Mount, ~s to store up treasure in heaven, added: "For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also."~9 These words indicate the eschatological character of the Christian vocation. They indicate even more the eschatological nature of the vocation that is realized through spiritual marriage to Christ by the practice of the evangelical counsels. 6. The structure of this vocation, as seen from the Words addressed to the young man in the synoptic gospels,20 is traced little by little as one discovers the fundamental treasure of one's own humanity in the perspective of that "trea-sure" which man "has in heaven." In this perspective, the fundamental treasure of one's own humanity is connected to the fact of "being, by giving oneself." The direct point of reference in such a vocation is the living person of Jesus Christ. The call to ~the way of perfection takes shape from him, and through him in the Holy Spirit who continually "recalls" to new people, men~and women--at different times of their lives, but especially in their youth--all that Christ "has saidTM and especially what he "said" to the yo.ung man who asked him: "Teacher, what good deed must ! do to h~ve eternal life?"~2 Throughthe reply of Christ, who "looks upon" his questioner "with love," the strong leaven of the Mystery of the Redemption penetrates the consciousness~, heart and will of one who is searching with truth and sincerity. Thus the call to the way of the evangelical counsels always has its begin-ning in God: "You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide."~3 The vocation in which a person discovers in depth.the evangelical law of giving, a law inscribed in human nature, is itself a gift. It is a gift overflowing with the deepest content of the Gospel, a gift which reflects the divine and human image of the Mystery of the Redemption. "In this is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be thb expiation for our sins.TM A "Fuller Expression"of Baptismdi Consecration 7. Your vocation, dear Brothers and Sisters, has led you to religious pro-fession, whereby you have been consecrated to God through the ministry of Redemptionis Donum / 487 the Church, arid tiave been at the same time incorporated into your religious family. Hence the Church thinks of you, above all, as persons who are "conse-crated": consecrated to God in Jesus Christ as his exclusive possession. This consecration determines your place in the vast community of the Church, the People of God. And at the same time, this consecration introduces into the universal mission of this people a special source of spiritual and supernatural energy: a particular style of life, witness and apostolate, in fidelity to the mission of your institute and.to its identity and spiritual heritage. The universal mission of the People of God is rooted in the messianic mission of Christ himself--prophet, priest and king--a mission in which all share in different ways. The form of sharing proper to "consecrated" persons corresponds to your manner of being rooted in Christ. The depth and power of this being rooted in Christ is decided precisely by religious profession. Religious p~ofession creates a new bond between the person and the one and triune God in Jesus Christ. This bond develops on the foundation of the original bond that is contained in the sacrament of baptism. Religious profes-sion "is deeply rooted in baptisma.I consecration and is a fuller expression of it.'~ In this way religious profession, in its constitutive content, becomes a new consecration: the consecration and giving of the human person to God, loved above all else. The commitment undertaken by means of the vows to practice the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty and obedience, according to the determinations proper to each religious family as laid down in the constitutions, is the expression of a total consecration to God and, at the same time, the means that leads to its achievement. This is also the source of the manner proper to consecrated .persons of bearing witness and of exercising the aposto-late. And yet it is necessary :to seek the roots of that conscious and~free consecration and of the subsequent giving of self to God as his possession in baptism, the sacrament that leads us to the~paschal mystery as the apex and center of the redemption ac,~omplished by Christ. Therefore, in order to highlight fully the reality of religious professions, we must turn to the vibrant ~,ords of St. Paul in the Letter to the Romans: "Do you,no~t know. that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, so that like Christ. we too might walk into the newness of life";26 "our old self was crucifiedowith him so that., we might no longer be enslaved by sin";27 so you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus?s Upon the sacramental basis of baptism in which it is rooted, religious profession is a new ~'burial in the death of Christ": new, because it is made with awareness and by choice; new, because of love and vocation; new, by reason of unceasing "conversion." This "burial in death" causes the person "buried together with Christ" to "walk like Christ in newness of life." In Christ crucified is to be found the ultimate foundati,~n both of baptismal consecration 41111 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 and of the profession of the evangelical counsels which--in tile words of the Second Vatican Council--"constitutes a special consecration." It is at one and the same time both death and liberation. St. Paul writes: "Consider yourselves dead to sin." At the same time he calls this death "freedom from the slavery of sin." Above all, though, religious consecration, through its sacramental foundation in holy baptism, constitutes a new life "for God in Jesus Christ." In this way, simultaneously with the' profession of the evangelical counsels, in a much more mature and conscious manner "the old nature is put off," and likewise "the new nature is put on, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness," to use once more the words of the Letter tothe l~phesians.29 A Covenant of Spousal Love 8. Thus, then, dear Brothers and Sisters--all of you who, throughout the Church, live the covenant of the evangelical counsels-~-renew in this Holy Year of the Redemption your awareness of your special sharing in the Redeemer's death on the cross--that sharing through which ~you have risen with him, and continually rise with him, to a new life. The Lord speaks to each of you, just as he once spoke through the prophet Isaiah: Fear not, for i have redeemed you: ' ~ I have called you by name, you are mine.a0 The evangelical call: "If you would be perfect., follow meTM guides us with the light of the words of the divine Teacher. From th~ depth of the redemption there comes Christ's call, and from that depth it teaches the human soul. By virtue of the grace of the redemption, this saving call assumes in the soul Of the person called the actual form of the professioh of the evangelical counsels. In this.form is contained your answer to the call .of redeeming love, and it is also an answer of love: a love of self-giving--which is the heart of consecration, of the consecration of the person. The words of Isaiah "I have redeemed you., you are mine"--seem toseal precisely this love, which is the love of a total and exclusive consecration to God. This is how the special covenant of spousal love is made, in which we seem to hear an unceasing echo of the words concerning Israel whom the Lord "has chosen as his own possession.'~2 For in every consecrated person the Israel of the New and Eternal Covenant is chosen. The whole messianic People, the entire Church, is chosen in every person whom the Lord selects from the midst of this people; in every person who is consecrated,for everyone, to God as his exclusive possession. While it is true that not even the greatest saint can repeat the words of Christ: "For their sake I consecrate myself"33 in the full redemptive force of these words, nevertheless, through self-giving love, through the offering of Redemptionis Donum / 489 oneself to God as his exclusive possession, each one can, through faith, stand within the radius of these words. Are we not reminded of this by the other words of the Apostle in the Letter to the Romans that we so often repeat and meditate upon: "I appeal to you therefore, brethren, by the mercy of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship"?.34 These words are, as it were, a distant echo of the one who, when he comes into the world and becomes man, says to the Father: "You have prepared a body for me. ~. Lo, I have come to do your will, O God.'~5 In this particular context of the Jubilee Year of the Redemption, let us, then, go back again to the mystery of the body and soul of Christ as the complete subject of spousal and redemptive love--spousal because redemp-tive. For love he offered himself; for love he gave his body "for the sin of the world." By immersing yourselves in the paschal mystery of the Redeemer through the consecration of the religious vows, you desire, through the love of total giving, to fill your souls and your bodies with the spirit of sacrifice---even as St. Paul invites you to do in the words of the Letter to the Romans just quoted: "To offer your bodies as a sacrifice.'~6 In this way, the likeness of that love which, in the heart of Christ, is both redemptive and spousal, is imprinted on the religious profession. And such love should fill each of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, from the very source of thatparticularconsecration which--on the sacramental basis of holy baptism-- is the beginning of your new life in Christ and in the Church: it is the beginning of the new creation. Together with this love, may there grow deeper in each one of you the joy of belonging exclusively to God, of being a particular inheritance of the most Holy Trinity: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Now and then repeat with the psalmist the inspired words: Whom else have I in heaven? And when ! am with you, the earth delights me not. Though my flesh and my heart waste away, God is the'rock of my heart" and my portion foreverP7 Or 1 say to the Lord, My Lord are you. Apart from you I have no good. O Lord, my allotted portion and my cup, You it is who hold fast my lot,3s May the knowledge of belonging to God himself in Jesus Christ, the Redeemer of the World and the Spouse of the Church, seal your hearts39 and all your thoughts, words, and deeds, with the sign of the biblical spouse: As you know, this intimate and profound knowledge of Christ is actuated 490 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 and grows deeper day by day through the life.of personal, community and liturgical prayer proper to each of your religious families. In this, too--and especially so--the men and women religious who are dedicated essentially to contemplation are a powerful aid and a stimulating support for their brothers and sisters devoted to the works of the apostolate. May this knowledge of belonging to Christ open your hearts, thoughts and deeds, with the key of the Mystery of the Redemption, to all the sufferings, needs and hopes of individuals and of the world--in the midst of which your evangelical consecration has been planted as a particular sign of the presence of God, for whom all live,40 embraced by the invisible dimension of this kingdom. The words "Follow me"--spoken by Christ when he "looked upon and loved" each one of you, dear Brothers and Sisters--also have this meaning: you take part, in the most complete and radical way possible, in the shaping of that new creation,4~ which must emerge from the redemption of the world, by means of the power of the Spirit of Truth operating from the abundance of the Paschal Mystery of Christ. Evangelical Counsels The Economy of Redemption 9. Through your profession the way of evangelical counsels opens up before each one of you. In the Gospel there are many exhortations that go beyond the measures of the commandment, indicating not only what is "neces-sary," but what is "better." Thus, for example, the exhortation not to judge,42 to lend "expecting nothing in return,'~3 to comply with all the requests and desires of our neighbor,44 to invite the poor to a meal?5 to pardon always,46 and many other invitations. If, in accordance with tradition, the profession of the evangelical counsels has concentrated on the three points of chastity, poverty and obedience, this usage seems to give clear enough emphasis to their importance as key ele-ments, and, as a kind of "summing up" of the entire economy of salvation. Everything in the Gospel that is a counsel enters indirectly into the pro-gram of that way to which Christ calls when he says: "Follow me." But chastity, poverty and obedience give to this way a particular Christocentric characteristic, and imprint upon it a specific sign of the Economy of Redemption. Essential to this "economy" is the transformation of the entire cosmos, through the heart of man, i'rom within: "For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. and will be set free from its bondage to decay, and obtain the glorious liberty of the children of God.'~7 This transformation takes place in step with that love which Christ's call infused in the depths of the individual, in step with that love which constitutes the very substance of consecration: a man or woman's vowing of self to God in religious profession, on the foundation of the sacramental consecration of baptism. Redemptionis Donum / 49"1 We can discover the bases of the economy of redemption by reading the words of the First Letter of St. John: Do not love the world or the things of the world. If anyone loves the world, love for the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world. And the world passes away, and the lust of it: but he who does the will of God abides forever.'~ Religious profession places in the heart of each one of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, the love of the Father, that love which is in the heart of Jesus Christ, the Redeemer of the World. It is love which embraces the world and everything in it that comes from the Father, and which at the same time tends to overcome in the world everything that "does not come from the Father." It tends therefore to conquer the threefold lust. "The lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes and the pride of life" are hidden within man as the inheritance of original sin, as a result of which the relationship with the world, created by God and given to man to be ruled by him,49 was disfigured in the human heart in various ways: In the economy of redemption the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty and obedience constitute the most radical means for trans-forming in the human heart this relationship with "the world": with the exter-nal world and with one's personal "1," which in some way is the central part "of the world" in the biblical sense, if what "does not come from the Father" begins within it. Against the background .of the phrases taken from the First Letter of St. John, it is not difficult to see the fundamental importance of the three evangel-ical counsels in the whole economy of redemption. Evangelical chastity helps us to transform in our interior life everything that has it sources in the lust of the flesh; evangelical poverty, everything that finds its source in the lust of the eyes; and evangelical obedience enables us to transform in a radical way that which in the human heart arises from the pride of life. We are deliberately speaking here of an overcoming as a transformation, for the entire economy of the redemption is set in the framework of the words spoken in the priestly prayer to the Father: "1 do not ask you to take them out of the world, but to guard them from the evil one."~0 The evangelical counsels in their essential purpose aim at "the renewal of creation": "The world," thanks to them, is to be subjected to man and given to him in such a way that man himself may be perfectly given to God. Participation in the Self-Emptying of Christ 10. The internal purpose of the evangelical counsels leads to the discovery of yet other aspects that emphasize the close connection of the counsels with the economy of redemption. We know that the economy of redemption finds its culminating point in the paschal mystery of Jesus Christ, in whom there are joined self-emptying through death and birth to a new life through the Resur-rection. The practice of the evangelical counsels contains a deep reflection of this paschal duality;5~ the inevitable destruction of what in each of us is sin and 492 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 its inheritance; and the possibility of being reborn each day to a more pro-found good hidden in the human soul. This good is manifested under the action of grace, toward which the practice of chastity, poverty and obedience renders the human soul particularly sensitive. The entire economy of redemp-tion is realized precisely through this sensitivity to the mysterious action of the Ho!y Spirit, the direct author of all holiness. Along this path the profession of the evangelical counsels opens out in each one of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, a wide space for the "new creation"~z that emerges in your human 'T' precisely from the economy of the redemption and, through this human "I," also into the interpersonal and social dimensions. At the same time it emerges in humanity as part of the world created by God, that world that the Father loved "anew" in the eternal Son, the Redeemer of the World. Of this Son St. Paul says that "though he was in the form of God. he emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men."53 The characteristic of self-emptying contained in the practice of the evangelical counsels is therefore a .completely Christocentric characteristic. And for this reason also the Teacher from Nazareth explicitly indicates the cross as the condition for following in his footsteps, He who once said to each one of you "Follow me" has also said: "If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me" (that is to say, walk in my footsteps).54 And he said this to all his listeners, not just to the disciples. The law of renunciation belongs therefore to the very essence of the Chris-tian vocation. But it belongs in a particular way to the essence of the vocation linked to the profession of the evangelical counsels. To those who walk the way of this vocation, even those difficult expressions that we read in the Letter to the Philippians speak in comprehensible language: For him "I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them as refuse, in order that I may gain Christ and be-found in him.'~5 Renunciation therefore--the reflection of the mystery of Calvary--in order "to be" more fully in the crucified and risen Christ; renunciation in order to recognize fully in him the mystery of one's own human nature and to confirm this on the path of that wonderful process of which the same apostle writes in another place: "Though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed every day.'~6 In this way the economy of the redemp-tion transfers the power of the paschal mystery to the level of humanity, docile to Christ's call to life in chastity, poverty and obedience, that is, to a. life according to the evangelical counsels. Chastity, Poverty, ,Obedience II. The paschal character of this call makes itself known from various points of view in connection with each individual .counsel. Chastity It is indeed according to the measure of the economy of the redemption Redemptionis Donum / 493 that one must also judge and practice that chastity which each of you has promised by vow, together with poverty and obedience. There is contained in this the response to Christ's words, which are at the same time an invitation: "There are eunuchs who have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. He who is able to receive this, let him receive it. Prior to this Christ has emphasized: "Not all men can receive this saying, but only those to whom it is given."~s These last words clearly show that this invitation is a counsel. To this also the apostle Paul devoted a special reflection in the First Letter to the Corinthians.59 This counsel is addressed in a particular way to the love of the human heart. It places greater emphasis on the spousal character of this love, while poverty and still more obedience seem to emphasize primarily the aspect of redemptive love contained in religious consecration. As you know, it is a question here of chastity in the sense "of making themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven," a question, that is, of virginity or celibacy as an expression of spousal love for the Redeemer himself. In this sense the apostle teaches that they "do well" who choose matrimony, but they "do better who choose virginity.'~° "The unmarried man is anxious about the affairs of the Lord, how to please the Lord,'~ and "the unmarried woman or girl is anxious about the affairs of the Lord, how to be holy in body and spirit."62 There is contained neither in the words of Christ nor in those of Paul any lack of esteem for matrimony. The evangelical counsel of chastity is only an indication of that particular possibility which, for the human heart, whether of a man or of a woman, constitutes the spousal love of Christ himself, of Jesus the "Lord." "To make themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven" is not in fact merely a free renunciation of marriage and family life, but a charismatic choice of Christ as one's exclusive spouse. This choice not only specifically enables one to be "anxious about the affairs of the Lord;" but--when it is made "for the kingdom of heaven"---it brings this eschatologi-cal kingdom of God close to the life of all people in the conditions of temporal-ity and makes it in a certain way present in the midst of the world. In this way consecrated persons accomplish the interior purpose of the entire economy of the redemption. For this purpose expresses itself in bringing near the kingdom of God in its definitive, eschatoiogical dimension. Through the vow of chastity consecrated persons share in the economy of the redemp-tion through the free renunciation of the temporal joys of married and family life; on the other hand, precisely by their "having made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven," they bring into the midst of this passing world the announcement of the future resurrection63 and of eternal life: life in union with God himself through the beatific vision and the love which contains in itself and completely pervades, all the other loves of the human heart. Poverty 12. How very expressive, in the. matter of poverty, are the words of the 494 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 Second Letter to the Corinthians, which constitute a concise synthesis of all that we hear on this theme in the Gospel: "For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yete for your sake he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich.TM According to these words, poverty actually enters into the interior structure of the redemptive grace of Jesus Christ. Without poverty, it is not possible to understand the mystery of the gift of divinity to man, a gift which is accomplished precisely in Jesus Christ. For this reason also it is found at the very center of the Gospel, at the beginning of the message of the eight Beatitudes: "Blessed are the poor in spirit."~5 Evangelical poverty reveals to the eyes of the human soul the perspec-tive of the whole mystery, "hidden for ages in God.'~6 Only those who are "poor" in this way are also interiorly capable of understanding the poverty of the One who is infinitely rich. The poverty of Christ conceals in itself this infinite richness of God; it is indeed an infallible expression of it. A richness, in fact, such as the divinity itself, could not have been adequately expressed in any created good. It can be expressed only in poverty. Therefore it can be properly understood only by the poor, the poor in spirit. Christ; the God-man, is the first of these: He who, "though he was rich became poor," is not only the teacher, but also the spokesman and guarantor of that salvific poverty which corresponds to the infinite richness of God and to the inexhaustible power of his grace. And thus is it also true--as the apostle writes--that "by this poverty we have become rich." It is the teacher and spokesman of poverty who makes us rich. For this very reason he says to the young man.of the synoptic gospels: "Sell what you possess and give . and you will have treasure in heaven.'~7 In these words there is a call to enrich others through one's own poverty. But in the depths of this call there is also hidden the testimony of the infinite richness of God which, transferred to the human soul in the mystery of grace, created in man himself, precisely through poverty, a source for enriching others that is not comparable with any other resource of material goods, a source for bestowing gifts on others in the manner of God himself. This giving is accomplished in the cohtext of the mystery of Christ who "has made us rich by his poverty." We see how this process of enrichment unfolds in the pages of the Gospel, finding its culmination in the paschal event: Christ, poorest in his death on the cross, is also the one who enriches us infinitely with the fullness of new life through his resurrection. Dear Brothers and Sisters, poor in spirit through your evangelical profes-sion, receive into the whole of your lives this salvific profile of the poverty of Christ. Day by day seek its ever greater development! Seek above all "the kingdom of God and his righteousness," and all other things "shall be yours as well.'~8 May there be accomplished in you and through you the evangelical blessedness that is reserved for the poor,69 the poor in spirit!70 Redemptionis Donum/ 495 Obedience 1 3. Christ, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And beingfound in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross.7~ Here, in these words of the Letter of St. Paul to the Philippians, we touch the very essence of the redemption, In this reality is inscribed, in a primary and constitutive way, the obedience of Jesus Christ. Other words of the apostle, taken this time from the Letter to the Romans, confirm this: For as by one man's disobedience many were made sinners, so by one man's obedience many will be made righteous.72 The evangelical counsel of obedience is the call which derives from this obedience of Christ "unto death." Those who accept this call, expressed by the words "Follow me," decided--as the council says--to follow Christ who "by an obedience which carried him even to death on the cross, redeemed human-ity and made it holy.''73 By living out the evangelical counsel of obedience, they reach the deepest essence of the entire Economy of the Redemption. By ful-filling this counsel, they desire to gain a special sharing in the obedience of that "One alone" by whose obedience all "will be made righteous." It can therefore be said that those who decide to live according to the counsel of obedience are placed in a unique way between the mystery of sin74 and the mystery of justification and salvific grace. They are in this "place" with all the sinful background of their own human nature, with all the inheritance "of the pride of life," with all the selfish tendencies to dominate rather than to serve; and precisely by means of the vow of obedience they decide to be transformed into the likeness of Christ, who "redeemed humanity and made it holy by his obedience." In the counsel of obedience they desire to find their own role in the redemption of Christ, and their own way of sanctification. This is the way which Christ marked out in the Gospel, speaking many times of fulfilling the will of God, of ceaselessly searching for it. "My food is to do the will of him who sent me, and to accomplish his works."75 "Because I seek not my own will but the will of him who sent me."76 "He :who sent me is with me; he has not left me alone, for 1 always do what is pleasing to him.''77 "For I have come down from heaven, not to do my own will, but the will of him who sent me."78 This constant fulfilling of the will of the Father also reminds us of that messianic confession of the psalmist in the Old Testament: "Behold I come; in the written scroll it is prescribed for me. To do 3/our will, O my God, is my delight, and your law is within my heart.''79 This obedience of the Son--full of joy--reaches its zenith in the face of the passion and cross: "Father, if it is your will, take this cup from me; yet not my will but yours be done."s0 From the prayer ~in Gethsemane onward, Christ's 1196 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 readiness to do the will of the Father is filled to the very brim of suffering, becoming that obedience "unto death, even death on a cross" spoken of by St. Paul. Through the vow of obedience consecrated persons decide to imitate with humility the obedience of the Redeemer in a special way. For although sub-mission to the will of God and obedience to his law are for every state a condition of Christian life, nevertheless in the "religious state," in the "state of perfection," the vow of obedience establishes in the heart of each of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, the duty of a particular reference to Christ "obedient unto death." And since this obedience of Christ constitutes the essential nucleus of the work of the redemption, as is seen from the words of the apostle quoted above, therefore also in the fulfilling of the evangelical counsel of obedience we must discern a particular moment in that "economy of the redemption" which pervades your whole vocation in the Church. From this derives that "total availability to the Holy Spirit" who is at work above all in the Church, as my predecessor Paul VI puts it in the apostolic exhortation Evangelica Testificatio,8i a'nd who is likewise manifested in the constitutions of your institutes. From this derives that religious submission which, in a spirit of faith, consecrated persons show to their legitimate superiors Who hold the place of God.82 In the Letter to the Hebrews we find on this theme a very significant indication: "Obey your leaders and submit to them; for they are keeping watch over your souls, as men who will have to give account." And the author of the letter adds: "Let them do this joyfully, and not sadly, for that would be of no advantage to you."~3 On the other hand, superiors will bear in mind that they. must exercise in a spirit of service the power conferred on them through the ministry of the Church, and they will show willingness to listen to their brothers or sisters in order to discern more clearly what the Lord asks of each one. At the same time they retain the authority proper to them to decide and order what they consider appropriatr. Hand in hand with submission-obedience thus conceived goes the attitude of service which informs your whole life after the example of the Son of Man who "came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many."s4 And his mother, at the decisive moment of the annunciation-incarna-tion, entering from the very beginning into the whole salvific economy of the redemption, said: "Behold, 1 am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be done to me according to your word."aS Remember also, dear Brothers and Sisters, that the obedience to which you committed yourselves by consecrating yourselves without reserve to God through the profession of the evangelical counsels is a particular expression of interior freedom, just as the definitive expression of Christ's freedom was his obedience "unto death": "1 lay down my life, that I may take it again. No one Redemptionis Donum / takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord.'~6 Love for the Church Witness 14. In the Jubilee Year of the Redemption the entire Church wishes to renew her love for Christ, the redeemer of man and of the world, her Lord and also her divine Spouse. And so in this holy year the Church looks with special attentibn to you, dear Brothers and Sisters, who, as consecrated persons, occupy a special place, both in the universal community of the People of God, and in every local community. While the Church wishes also your love for Christ to be renewed through the grace of the extraordinary jubilee, at the same time, she is fully aware that this love constitutes a special possession of the whole People of God. The Church is aware that, in the love that Christ receives from consecrated persons, the love :of the entire Body is directed in a special and exceptional way toward the Spouse who, i~t the same time, is the Head of this Body. The Church expresses to you, dear Brothers and Sisters, her gratitude for your consecration, and for your profession of the evangelical counsels which are a special witness of love. She also expresses anew her great confidence in you who have chosen a state of life that is a special gift of God to the Church. She counts upon your complete and generous collaboration in order that, as faithful stewards of this precious gift, you may "think with the Church" and always act in union with her, in conformity with the teaching and directives of the magisterium of Peter and of the pastors in communion with him, fostering at the personal and community level a renewed ecclesial awareness. And at the same time, the Church prays for you, that your witness of love may never fail.87 She also asks you to accept in this spirit the present message of the Jubilee Year of the Redemption. Precisely in this way the Apostle Paul prayed in his Letter to the Philippians, that "your love may abound more and more., with all discernment, so that you may approve what is excellent, and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruits of righteousness. "~ Through the work of Christ's redemption "God's love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit which has been given to us.'~9 1 constantly ask the Holy Spirit to grant to each one of you, according to your own gift,9° to bear special witness to this love. May "the law of the Spirit that gives life in Christ Jesus" be victorious within you in a way worthy of your vocation, that law that has "set us free from the law of. death.TM Live, then, this new life in the measure of the different gifts of God, which corresponds to the vocation of your individual religious families. The profession of the evangelical counsels shows each of you how, with the help of the Spirit, you can put to death92 everything that is contrary to life and serves sin and death; everything that is opposed to true love of God and others. The world needs the authentic "contradiction" provided by religious conse- 4911 / Reviow for Religious, July-August, 1984 cration, as an unceasing stimulus of saivific renewal. "Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may prove what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.'~3 After the special period of experimentation and renewal provided for by the motu proprio Ecclesiae Sanctae, your institutes have recently received, or are preparing to receive, the Church's approval of your renewed constitutions. May this gift of the Church encourage you to know them, to love them, and, above all, to live them in generosity and fidelity, remembering that obedience is an unambiguous manifestation of love. It is precisely this witness of love that the world today and all humanity need. They need this witness to the redemption as this is imprinted upon the profession of the evangelical counsels. These counsels---each in its own way and all of them together in their intimate connection--"bear witness" to the redemption which, by the power of Christ's cross and resurrection, leads the world and humanity, in the Holy Spirit, toward that definitive fulfillment which man, and through man, the whole of creation finds in God and only in God. Your witness is therefore of inestimable value, You must constantly strive to make it fully transparent and fully fruitful in the world. A further aid to this will be the faithful observance of the Church's norms regarding also the outward manifestation of your consecration and of your commitment to poverty.94 Apostolate 15. From this witness of spousal love for Christ, through which the entire salvific truth of the Gospel becomes particularly visible, there also comes, dear Brothers and Sisters, as something proper to your vocation, a sharing in the Church's apostolate, in her universal mission--which is accomplished con-temporaneously in every nation in many different ways and through many different charisms. Your specific mission is in harmony with the mission of the apostles whom the Lord sent "to the whole world" to "teach all nations,'s5 and it is also linked to the mission of the hierarchial order. In the apostolate which consecrated persons exercise, their spousal love for Christ becomes, in an as it were organic way, love for the Church as the Body of Christ, for the Church as the People of God, fbr the Church which is at one and the same time Spouse and Mother. It is difficult to describe, or even to list, the many different ways in which consecrated persons fulfill through the apostolate their love for the Church. This apostolate is always born from that particular gift of your founders which, received from God and approved by the Church, has become a charism for the different needs of the Church and of the world at particular moments of history, and, in its turn, this apostolate is extended and strengthened in the life of religious communities as one of the enduring elements of the Church's own life and apostolate. In each of these elements, in each field--both of Redemptionis Donum / 499 contemplation so fruitful for the apostolate and of direct apostolic action--the Church's constant blessing accompanies you, as does at the same time her pastoral and maternal solicitude with regard to the spiritual identity of your life and the correctness of your activity in the midst of the great universal community of vocations and charisms of the whole People of God. Through each of the institutes separately, and through their organic integration into the whole of, the Church's mission, special emphasis is given to the Economy of Redemption, the profound sign of which each one of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, bears within himself or herself through the consecration and profession of the evangelical counsels. And thus, even though the many different apostolic works that you perform are extremely important, nevertheless the truly fundamental work of the aPostolate remains always what (and at the same time who) you are in the Church. Of each one of you can be repeated, with special appropriateness, these words of St. Paul: '~For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God."96 And at the same time this "being hidden with Christ in God" makes it possible to apply to you the words of the master himself: "Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven."97 For the sake of this light with which you must "shine before men," of great imPortance among you is the witness of your mutual love linked to the fraternal spirit of each community, for the Lord has said: "By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another."gg The fundamentally communitarian nature of your religious life--nourished by the teaching of the Gospel, by the sacred liturgy, and above all by the Eucharist--is a special way of accomplishing this interpersonal and social dimension. By caring for one another, by bearing one another's burdens, you show, by your unity, that Christ is living in your midst.99 Important for your apostolate in the Church is every kind of sensitivity to the needs and sufferings of the individual, which are seen so clearly and so movingly in today's world. For the Apostle Paul teaches: "Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ,;~°° and he adds that "love is the fulfilling of the Law."1°1 Your mission must be seen! Deep, very deep must be the bond which links it to the Church!~°2 Through everything that you do, and especially through everything that you are, may the truth be proclaimed and reconfirmed that "Christ loved the Church and gave himself up for her"~o3--the truth that is at the basis of the whole Economy of Redemption. From Christ, the Redeemer of the World, may the inexhaustible source of your love of the Church pour forth! Conclusion The Eyes Enlightening the Heart 16. This exhortation, which 1 address to you on the Solemnity of the Annunciation in the Jubilee Year of the Redemption, is meant to be an 5{11) / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 expression of that love which the Church has for men and womeri religious: You, dear Brothers and Sisters, are truly a special treasure of the Church. And this treasure becomes more understandable through °meditation on the reality of the redemption--for which the present Holy Year offers a continuous opportunity and a welcome encouragement. Recognize therefore, in this light, your identity and your dignity. May the Holy Spirit--through Christ's cross and resurrection--"having the eyes of your hearts enlightened," enable you "to know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints."~0~ These "eyes enlightening the heart" the Church unceasingly asks ]'or each ¯ one of you who have already taken the road of the profession of the evfingelical counsels. The Church, together with you, asks for the same "enlightened eyes" for many other Christians---especially for young men and women--that they, too, may discover this way, and not be afraid to enter upon it, that---even in the midst of the adverse circumstances of life today--they may hear Christ's "Follow Me."1°5 You, too, must strive for this through your prayer, and aiso through the witness of that love whereby "God abides in us, and his love is perfected in us."~o6 May this witness become present everywhere, and universally clear. May the people of our times, in their spiritual weariness, find in this witness both support and hope. Therefore serve your brethren with the joy that wells up from a heart in which Christ has his dwelling. "And may the world of our time., be enabled to receive the good news, not from evangelizers who are dejected and discouraged., but from ministers of the Gospel whose lives glow with fervor, who have first received the joy of Christ."~07 The Church, in her love for you, does not cease "kneeling before the Father. and praying"t0g that he may effect in you "the strengthening of the inner nature,''~09 and, as in you, so also in many others of your baptized brothers and sisters---especially young people--so that they, too, may find the same way to holiness which, in the course of history, so many generations have traveled together with Christ the Redeemer of the World and Spouse of Souls, often~ leaving behind them the bright radiance of God's light against the dark and gray background of human existence. To all of you who travel this road in the present phase of the history of the Church and the world there is addressed this fervent hope of the Jubilee Year of the Redemption, that "you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have the power to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God."~0 Message of the Solemnity of the Annunciation of the Lord On the Feast of the Annunciation in thi~ Holy Year of the Redemption, I place the present exhortation in the heart of the Immaculate Virgin. Among all Redemptionis Donum / 501 persons consecrated unreservedly to G6d, she is the first. She--the Virgin of Nazareth--is also the one most fully consecrated to God, consecrated in the most perfect way. Her spousal~love reached its height in the divine motherhood through the power of the Holy Spirit. She, who as mother carries Christ in her arms, at the same time fulfills in the most perfect way his call: "Follow me." And she follows him--she, the mother--as her teacher of chastity, poverty and obedience. How poor she was on Bethlehem night, and how poor on Calvary! How obedient she was at the moment .of the Annunciation, and then--at the foot of the Cross--obedient "unto death!" How dedicated she was in all her earthly life to the cause of the kingdom" of heaven through most chaste love. If the entire Church finds in Mary her first model, all the more reason do you find her so--you as consecrated individuals and communities within the Church! On the day that calls to mind the inauguration of the Jubilee of the Redemption, which took place last year, I address myself to you with this present message to invite you to renew your religious consecration according to the model of the consecration of the very Mother of God. Beloved Brothers and Sisters! "God is faithful, by whom you were called into the fellowship of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord."lll Persevering in fidelity to him who is faithful, strive to find a very special support in Mary! For she was called by God to the most perfect communion with his Son. May she, the faithful Virgin, also be the Mother of your evangelical way. May she help yoti to experience and to show to the world how infinitely faithful is God himself! With these hopes 1 bless you with all my heart. From the Vatican, March 25, in the Jubilee Year of the Redemption, 1984, the sixth of my pontificate. NOTES ~See Mt 7:14. 2Ps 130(129):7. .JSee 2 Co 11:2. sSee Mt' 19:21; Mk 10:21; Lk' 18:22. 6Mk 10:21. 8Jn 3:16. 91 P 1:18-19. ml Co 6:20. ~2Mt 5:48. ~JSee Lv 19:2; 11:44. ~4Ep 5:1-2. ~6Mk 8:35; see Mt 10:39; Lk 9:24. ~TMt 19:21. ~gMt 6:21. ~°See Mt 19:21; Mk 10:21; Lk 18:22. 22Mt 19:16. ~JJn 15:16. 241 Jn 4:10. 4See Mt 18:20. 7Mt 19:21. ~1 Co 6:19-20. ~Sls 44:22. ~sSee Mt 6:19-20. 2~See Jn 14:26. ~See Second Vatican Council, decree Perfectae Caritatis, 5; see also document of the Congrega-tion for Religious and Secular Institutes "Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religious Life as Applied to Institutes Dedicated to Works of the Apostolate" (May 3 I, 1983), nn. 5ff. ~6Rm 6:3-4. ~TRm 6:6. 2SRm 6:1 I. ~gSee Ep 4:22-24. 51)2 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 J°ls 43:1. 34Rm 12:1. asPs 16( 15):2,5. 42See Mt 7:1. ~6See Mt 6:14-15. ~°Jn 17:15. 5JPh 2:6-7: 57Mr 19:12.° 6~I Co 7:32. ~2 Co 8:9. ~Mt 19:21. 32Ps 135 (134):4. J3Jn 17:19. a~Heb 10:5,7. ~6Rm 12:1. aTPs 73(72):25-26. 39See Sg 8:6. ~See Lk 20:38. :4~2 Co 5:17. *JLk 6:35. '~See Mt 5:40-42. *~See Lk 14:13-14. *TRm 8:19-21. '~1 Jn 2:15-17. ~gSee Gn 1:28. ~See Perfectae Caritatis, 5. 522 Co 5:17. ~Mk 8:34: Mt 16:24. ssPh 3:8-9. 562 Co 4:16. 5SMt 19:11. 59See I Co 7:28-40: ~°See I Co 7:38. 621 Co 7:34. 6~See Lk 20:34-36; Mt 22:30: Mk 12:25. 65Mt 5:3. 66Ep 3:9. 67Mt 19:21; see Mk 10:21; Lk 18:22. 7°Mr 5:3. 7~Ph 2:6-8. 74Mysterium lniquitatis; see 2 Th 2:7. 77Jn 8:29. tSJn 6:38. ~OLk 22:42; see Mk 14:36; Mt 26:42. 82See Perfectae Caritatis, 14. 85Lk 1:38. 86Jn 10:17-18. 89Rm 5:5. 9°See I Co 7:7. 6SMk 6:33; eLk 6:20. 72Rm ~: 19. 7-~See Perfectae Caritatis, I. 75Jn 4:34. 76Jn 5:30. 79ps 40(39):8-9; see Heb 10:17. s~See Evangelica Testificatio, 6. S~Heb 13:17. ~4Mk 10:45. sTSee Lk 22:32. ssPh 1:9-1 I. 91Rm 8:2. 92See Rm 8:13. 9-~Rm 12:2. 9~See Code of Canon Law, canon 669. 9~See Mt 28:19. 9~Col 3:3. 97Mt 5:16. ~Jn 13:35. 99See Perfectae Caritatis, 15. t°°Ga 6:2. ~o~ Rm 13:10. ~°2The Code of Canon Law explicitly mentions this with regard to apostolic activity: see canon 675, sec. 3. ~O3Ep 5:25. , ~Ep 1:18. IO~Lk 5:27. ~°~1 Jn 4!12. ~°TPope Paul VI, apostolic exhortation Evangelii Nuntiandi, 80. ~°sSee Ep 3:14. ~°gSee Ep 3:16. n0Ep 3:17;19. ml Co 1:9. Encourage Vocations May I also ask you for something?You are well aware of the needs of the Church all over the world in relation to vocations to the priesthood and to the religious life. My request is that you do not fail to challenge the young to follow Christ in this way. Help them to discover the divine call. Support them by your prayer, your advice, and the example of your lives.--John Paul Ii, to the General Chapter of the Congregation of Christian Brothers. L'Osscrvatore Romano, 24 April, 1984, p. 9. Commitment: Dying and Rising to Self Anthony Wieczorek, O. Praem. This article is the fruit of the prayerful reflections of Bro~ Wieczorek as he approached the time of his solemn profession during the days of Holy Week. His last article. "Poverty. Time. Solitude: A Conte.xt for a Celibate Life-Style.~appeared in the issue of September/October. 1982. Bro. Wieczorek resides in St. Joseph Priory: 103 Grant Street: De Pere. WI 54115. Commitment is a life and death decision. This is especially true for such commitments as marriage, profession, arid even the taking 'on ~of certain jobs requiring a good degree of responsibility. Commitment is a decision to live a certain life, to embrace life and enter into it fully. At the same time, it is a death. It means letting go of other options and alternatives, of other equally good or better ways of living. For both these reasons, because commitment is an embracing of life and death, commitments are' often difficult to make, causes of not a little anxiety and fear. The fear is not simply because of the dying required; it is perhaps least of all due to that. Rather, the main cause for fear in commitment is precisely the living, the life that is chosen with all its unknown consequences. Life is just as much out of human control as death. Life is just as much a surrender as death. When a person truly abandons oneself to living, truly living--wak.efully, consciously, with senses open and alert to every and anything--the final result is just as mysterious and uncertain as death. At least that is what I am finding out as the day of my solemn profession nears. What is involved in making such a commitment? Where will such a life lead? What price will such a life demand? For make no mistake, living exacts a terrible price--terrible and beautiful. Truly, commitment is a dying and rising of self. The self I am and know given over to transformation by living a life the consequences and end of which 1 cannot envision. The frightening part of commitment, for many of us, as these reflections try to articulate, is not just the dying to other lives, it is the rising to new and different life and, perhaps, to 503 504/ Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 an equally new and different self. The Seed of An Uncertain Future I wonder, Lord, if you wonder where all the singleheartedness has gone. It is still there, thought now I am no longer so wholly consumed by it. All its life, the residue of its past as well as the fire of its dreams, is squeezed tightly into a single seed. The seed is all curled up about itself. It is afraid to die for when it does it will erupt into nbt only new life, that is not so bad, but into different life. The tree from which that scared seed grew is only one parent. The other is mystery, wild and elusive. It will be no new tree that stretches itself upward and downward but a different tree. And so I cling to the last shreds of my former life, feeling it nonetheless slipping, being pulled endlessly from my grasp. And when the last element is gone and I fall helplessly into the soil, half buried by the force of the fall, then I shall die/rise--for it is all the same--to not only live anew but differently. I die to arise as a self I do not know; the me I am assumed, eaten up as food, by the person 1 shall become. .The seed existing in me is devouringme to nourish itself. It is eating its way out of me, bite by bite. Soon I will be gone. Yet not gone, for a new and different self will begin to grow from where 1 stood, with its own life, its own dreams and future. As it is now part of me, so then ! shall be part of it, consumed as fuel until it is strong enough to move away and seek its own source of life, to wrap its lips around the mystery which gave it birth and suck into its being a vitality and energy I cannot imagine, let alone comprehend. And it will grow as the mystery it drinks saturates every cell of it. By that time l will have played my part. The husk that will be what remains of me will slowly crumble with a dry, crinkling sound. Discarded, will I be remembered by what has become of me? Will anything of me survive in that which survives me? When 1 too hang a lifeless husk from a tree, consumed wholly by what exists within me? Of Acorns and O~ks It's too bad acorns can't fly. Maybe it's just as well. I wonder, if they could, how many over the years would have changed their minds and returned in a flurry of little wings to the tree from which they fell? A person just can't be sure. In the fall, if you sit quietly amid the sounds of wind and rustling leaves you can occasionally hear the sudden and quite distinct plop of an acorn hitting the ground. And if you lean over it you can even hear the final little sigh the acorn makes just before, separated from the life of the tree, it dies. For me, the acorn is a symbol of faith. The whole and utter point of an acorn's life is to die. It dies so that the oak tree within it can sprout and grow and give birth to more acorns and so more oak trees. But what about the acorn? That surely isn't much of a life. I wonder if they're informed of the odds of success before they're sent on their suicide dive? For all the acorns that fall, how slim a percentage are able to accomplish their full mission? How many of Commitment: Dying and Rising to Self / 505 the well meaning little things end up in the bellies of squirrels? or get picked up by people like me who put them in a pocket, or sit them on a desk as a remembrance? All that wasted potential. That's why l say, it's too bad acorns can't fly. But acorns don't seem to mind the odds. Millions fall to pointless deaths each year. Each one, I suppose, acts in faith. And so do they die. Maybe I'm too romantic about this. Maybe acorns kick and scream over their fate. Maybe it's not that acorns voluntarily let go at all. Perhaps they hang on for dear life, literally, while the wind and tree try to shake them loose. And don't blame the tree; it is, after all, the wind that does the shaking. The wind jostles and bounces the branches and leaves until the acorns can no longer hang on, until .th,.ey fall, with a plop, onto the ground below. In my room is an 1con, Rublev's The Holy Trinity. On it are three figures, the three visitors greeted by Abraham. Each represents a different person of the Holy Trinity. They are, from left to right, Son, Father, and Spirit. They are seated at a table and on its center is a solitary cup. The symbolism speaks of the cup as the cup of commitment or decision or vow. The cup is the symbol of the incarnation. The Son in drinking it would vow to undergo the incarnation, the ministry and death. The Father looks sadly at the Son but makes no move to urge his drinking. The decision must be made freely and the Father respects that. The Spirit, though, is much less inhibited, much more impetuous. The Spirit motions toward the. cup, as if to push it closer to the Son, encouraging him to drink. In Greek and Hebrew, the word for spirit and wind is the same. I think that the word for Jesus and acorn should be the same also. The Spirit blew the cup across the table and thbn with a sudden gust blew the Son right out of heaven so that he fell, with a plop, upon the earth to live so briefly and then with a sigh die so that from his seed new life might sprout and grow. I wonder if the Son would rather have hung on to the Father? I Wonder if without the Spirit's insistence the Son would have continued to cling to heaven? Who can blame either of them? What were the Son's odds for.success? And the Spirit? The Spirit is the seed contained within the acorn--Son. Do not feel sorry for the acorn, nor for the Son. Rather, feel sorry for yourself; All of us are acorns. Each one is complete with a spirit-seed~ We cling to a cross and cling desperately, lest we too fall and we too germinate into a new and different creation. And yet, it is our purpose and fate to let go and drop down into the life we find ourselves forced by various kinds of necessity to live. I like to fancy myself a tree. Sad to say I am only the acorn. I am meant to fall, meant to die so that the. life within me might sprout and grow. For now, though, l~cling with all my strength to the tree, high above life, not at all anxious to.surrender my grasp and fall into it. I look down on the acorns already fallen with arms that ache and fingers that are numb. The wind will not let up. It is but a matter of time. Eventually I will fall and that will be that. There will be nowhere to go but into life, a life wholly foreign and different from my life as an acorn. Up to now I have not minded being an 506 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 acorn. But now I see a very serious shortcoming: acorns can't fly. The Waves and Tides of Life Yesterday I stood at the water's edge and watched the waves ebb and flow. The water Would rush ashore in a burst of extroversion and then, just as shyly, recede, as though it had scared and embarrassed itself with its own excitement. Today I think, how much life is like those waves. There is an ebb flow to my emotions. Today, though, 1 ebb, recede back into myself to be alone with my loneliness. And today, as I sit and recall the waves, they seem like hands groping, flaying out to grab hold of an3ithing or anyone~ They are like the hands of a ghost that can. neither hold nor ever be held. The waves that beat the sand and stones, are they ii'ying in fact to climb the shore? to step out and stand and walk out among the people who have from time to time plunged into their world only to emerge after a moment and walk away? Those people who enjoyed the waves for a moment, befriending them only to leave for the business of their own lives, leaving, too, the waves to lap longingly after life they can never know or share? I with them ebb further into my heart, receding back into the memories of those who have plunged for a moment into my llfe only to leave and leave me lapping after them. Like a lake .I sit alone, from time to time rising up with a rush only to slip back into myself, startled and embarrassed by my own need. Something within me is like a wave that slaps ashore but never stays, Something within me surges up only to be pulled back within by some internal gravity. I'm not sure if that something is just shy, testing the air and environ-ment then fleeing back inside, or if it is trapped, tryin~ to escape the,grasp of something else holding it bound. I don't even know what the something within me is, the wave-like thing that surges within me. I wonder if the waves feel the futility of their endless spending of energy? What do the waves accOmplish? At what do they succeed? Too pragmatic a question? I guess so. But the question comes because I, like them, ebb and flow over and over, so much motion without any progress onward or toward. Things within me, feelings, truths, continually well up and slide onto the shore of consciousness only to teasingly return to the depths, staying only long enough to be quickly felt, to be glanced, to pose a question but never long enough to give: an answer or even listen to my response. Maybe then 1 have it all wrong. Maybe the point of the waves is not for them to venture ashore. Maybe the waves are not groping but beckoning hands, calling me to enter it, urging and compelling me into its depths. The ebb and flow of feelings that roll up into consciousness, are they bait meant to lure me into my own depths? Endlessly they call, endlessly they reach .out to stroke and caress me into compliance, easing my fear with warm, soft strokes. Those waves that nowhere go gather me and draw me not nowhere but~down, deep down, then deeper still until memory of shore is gone and the memory of me upon the shore is equally gone, washed away by the waves. Commitment: Dying and Rising to Self ] 507 The Bondage of Busyness I'm sorry, Lord, so much these past few weeks l've had to do, to be busy about. How easy it is to put off being sensitive and aware by doing. It leaves no time to be, only time enough to do. Lately I've been going through life at light's speed. Stars blur into indistinguishable streaks of white light. And people too. And you, God; and you, too. You bead up on the surface of my life like water and roll away while 1 race on. It is for self-defense. Awareness requires sensitiv-ity and for that ability to feel. To feel. Can't I just ponder you slowly in my mind? Must I dare to feel you? To be pierced by experiences, allowing them to enter in, leave an impression, even draw blood7 There ,is something in me struggling to be free. Always the same words. And why not? It is the same reality. Bondage. When, Lord, when will I learn? When will 1 take the lessons to heart and emerge whole and authentic? It is being you require not sacrifice~ not doing. They are quite wrong, those who say "just being" is a passivity. It is work, painful work without respite: 1 know why people are wont to go mad. It is all so painfully obvious. Why do I go on living in such foreign realms where things done and not being alive is the currency? The True, the Real is here, so obvious, waiting. 1 wait too. I wait for death to free me from all my falsity and foolishness, from the hustle and bustle. And l blame you for the fire and brimstone I call upon myself. I hold my breath while ! pray for death, hoping ¯ all the while it will pass me by.,I am too afraid of living; of feeling life, to die. Doing is my excuse for not being, for not taking the time or oppo~unity to feel. After death, 1 imagine, there will be all eternity to be. But even now I can feel the fabric of the womb pressing against my face and hands. My fingers grope to tear it away. 1 strain to open my eyes against it and see beyond it, crying an angry moan through it and dissolve it with my tears. Being means living and I will not allow myself to be born. I want to die but fear birth, fear the living. If 1 do not die I cannot be born, cannot be. 1 am afraid of eternity, afraid that once I pass through this existence to life I will have nothing to keep me from being, from living truly. It is not physical death I fear. That is only the symbol. Physical death reminds me that someday I must make the 9assage: Physical death is a taunt that reminds me that this existence is illusion and all the busy things I do to keep me from being and feeling are illusory too. That's why I flee from death, for 1 am afraid to live, to be, to feel. The struggle is to be born. The bondage to be enwombed. Death is the door I refuse to open for life awaits me on the other side. When will I let go and let death take me? When, 1 know now, I can let go of my fear of feeling. Death is release but 1 do not want to be free. No, that is not true. I crave it, crave life even as I fear it. I die to the wrong thing. I die to life so that I may live in death instead of dying to death, the death in which I now, and yet, live. If I die to death 1 shall rise again to live life, to feel life. And so, to insulate myself, I lie buried beneath piles of mud while my spirit struggles to soar. I choose death 5011 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 for it is painless, effortless, feelingless. The mud is all the deedsI do, must do, ought to do, have to do, can do, should do. All these excuses, a facade of life to imagine the things 1 do, the death I live in, means I am really alive. I refuse the resurrection and choose the facade. The facade of life that I live, for I have not died. Death waits. I can be embraced any time, any time I choose to live. It is so simple:,to be free 1 must simply die to death and be willing to live. Two things block my way, fear and self-consciousness. Maybe there are three things, death is the third. They are, I'm sure, all interrelated., Fear of death of the selL.l have, after all, gone through quite a turnsince my graduate school day~ when self-fulfillment was the key. Maybe it still is a key, though not to any doors I find before me. The key now is death~ death to self. Maybe I'm morel a Buddhist than 1 thought. Fear stares me in the face every :step of the way. The face of fear fills my vision. It is only an illusion though. Fear has no more a face than does a mirror. Fear's face is my own reflection. So here it is Good Friday, a day of self-denial, a day of the celebration of the conquest of fear. Your faith, Lord, conquered your fear. And for me, I lack the faith for it will bid me to face fear and enter into death. And when 1 die I shall rise__to live, to feel. Feel what? The truth: uncertainty, sorrow, loneliness made more real by love, impotence, insignificance. Even your death, Lord, has changed so little. What then of mine? ~;ou see my self-consciousness is all that keeps me from consciousness. Make no mistake, I know the grace is there. I know that if I stand silently with outstretched hands you will fill them. For that reason my hands are tightly closed into fists, fists that grasp and cling to every shred of self-consciousness I can find. ~Get behind me, Satan, your ways are not God's but man's." There is so much power in those words. The object of that little outburst of yours was not Peter's remarks but the voice within you that Peter only echoed. Why after all die, to whom will it matter in the end, much less now? I have the same voice in me, it is my voice trying to shout down the voice Of the spirit-seed begging for birth. And so I cry out.with you, "get behind me, self-consciousness." An Allegory on Arising Somewhere an alarm is ringing but I can't seem to wake enough to turn it off. It pulls and tugs at me but I am too groggy to do much more than mutter with swollen tongue still drunk with sleep. I must wake, I tell myself, but my limbs refuse to acknowledge any signals from my duty-bound brain. Of the past Triduum, Good Friday was my best day, of the three the day of greatest wakefulness. It left me eager for the Vigil service--but there it ended, l lie in my tomb thrilling over resurrection but cannot muster the consciousness to rise. I close my eyes to resurrection so that I may return to the opium of my ¯ Commitment: Dying and Rising to Self / 509 dreams. I,know I am dreaming for I know that 1 am unawake. But my sleep-logged body lacks the bouyancy to rise. I sleep on while the alarm rings on. Good Friday and I became such good friends because we spoke the same language: death--only unlike Good Friday, I refused to move on to'Easter Sunday, Each day by my own decree is a Good Friday. For, having to choose between the tomb and wakefulness, I have chosen the tomb. Holy Thursday was too busy for me to find in it any portal to mystery, let alone your presence. But Good Friday loomed like a sudden door in the middle of the service and I entered in. It felt right, necessary. I need to die, to hand myself over to death. But I refuse to enter fully into Good Friday, for from where I stood j,ust inside the threshold I could see that it extended out into Holy Saturday--when the alarm begins to ring--and opened up into Easter Sunday. So there it is, a matrix of transformation, a labyrinth one wanders through to emerge as some new self the old one lost somewhere within. I don't even think I mind the death anymore. It is somehow inevitable and in a sense it has already begun. But in the foreground I can hear the alarm waking me to consciousness even before fully asleep. It is that that scares me. I try to ignore it: can't you tell I'm dead? What do you mean it's time to get up? Do the dead rise and shine? I found in Good Friday an escape from consciousness and feeling but found also the alarm that tries so persistently to raise these unwilling limbs to new life. It does not end on Good Friday. On the third day, it says, he rose again. It took Jesus three days to lose his tug-of-war with God. Obvously you simply weren't trying, l'm proof that the contest can go on much longer. We are told to give our lives over to God as though we were lumps of clay, as though it were an act done once and for all. That is simply not how it is. We are balls of yarn that God slowly pulis, unraveling us and knitting us into something new. The same yarn but a new being--and we don't even get to choose the pattern. And so I hang on as mightily as I can, trying to unravel what God has knitted and rewrap myself into a safely static ball of potential: After all; look at what God did with the "yarn" that was--and is--Jesus. His own friends couldn't recognize him when God got through. So God and I are engaged in a tug-of-war. It took you three days, Lord? Three days to let totally go and be remade? Would that I were as weak. Unfortunately, God does not seem to be as strong as we claim. He is losing, his new creation is losing its shape, slowly being undone. The alarm bids me to stir and awaken, to loosen my hold on myself and let what I am be used up, transformed and brought back as one more patch on a huge and colorful woven mosiac. But now I am talking about Easter. Now I am talking about wakefulness, consciousness, the empty tomb with its wrappings neatly folded and put aside, like sheets and blankets on a bed remade and forgotten during the daylight hours. But I am still wrapped warm within my bed. The tomb is not yet vacant. I cling to my self-consciousness, the self 1 think 1 know and do not want to lose. But despite the sleep, I cannot hold on to myself much longer, the sleep deepens and my grip upon myself loosens. 510 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 God. tugs once more and smiles, "Nothing but a little snag," and goes on knitting making who knows, what to one day soon be sewn into a patchwork of eternity and serve some purpose in a plan not my own. Each day for me is Good Friday and soon Holy Saturday when I will be remade an~ then reappear a stranger, washed ashore on the morning of some Easter Sunday. Reciprocal On top of hell a bluebird sits On an apple branch. A mocking bird's swelling song, Tiptop in a tall cedar, chants A confiteor to such irony. Cows graze in emerald pastures. The sun~ rising red, puts the moon to rest: And morning prayers are said. Below these placid pastures, Below fring.ed acres, --primed and waiting-- Are the missiles, restrained, yet ready To fly whistling seaward, to other Pastures, where other dwellers sit on Top of hell, listening to another Bluebird singing, on an apple branch, A mocking bird trilling, tiptop In a tall cedar. Martha Wickham 560 N. Walnut, Apt~ °1 o Taylorville, IL 62568 Ecclesial Relationships for Religious: Desires and Limits Alexa Suelzer, S.P. This article is the text of the second annual lecture and colloquium sponsored by Review for Religious in conjunction with the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University which took place at the university April 12-13. In the spring of 1983, Sister Alexa was appointed to the special committee of religious formed by Archbishop John Quinn to collaborate with the ponifical commission established to facilitate the pastoral ministry of bishops to religious in this country. Sister Alexa, whose background is in Scripture, has had extensive administrative experience within her own community. She may be addressed as St. Mary-of-the-Woods College; St. Mary-of-the-Woods, IN 47876. Almost a year has passed since John Paul 11 wrote to the bishops of the United States concerning the religious--both men and women--in their dio-ceses and.sent them a document titled Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religious Nfe As Applied to Institutes Dedicated to Works of ApostolateJ a compendium drawn from pertinent decrees of Vatican H, papal writings, and documents of the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes. Its authority derives from its sources and from the personal approval of John Paul? Perhaps there was a time when such imposing credentials would preclude criticism--but no more! Reaction from religious has covered the gamut from strong affirmation thro.ugh indifference to angry rejection. One religious' assertion that the teaching affirms her.waY of life is counterbalanced by another's depression at seeing her path questioned. Between these extremes lie varying degrees of agreement and disagreement. It seems safe to say that the enumeration of the indispensable elements (prayer, evangelical witness, and so forth) meets with general acceptance, but description of each of them finds the variety of reactions described. Sometimes the criticism is on peripheral issues: Why single out American religious? ~Why 511 512 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 were the LCWR and CMSM passed by? What is the hidden agenda? At times the criticism stems from misreading the text, e.g., presuming that the "ending of the special period of experimentation," condemns religious life henceforth to the s, tatus quo. At times the language and concepts are faulted as archaic and stereotypical, better suited to an earlier time. More serious are the theological challenges: the failure to realize adequately the evolution of religious life through the centuries, the use of consecration as a master category, the neglect of the prophetic element, and an unsatisfactory eccle-iology. From listening and speaking to religious, both individually, and in groups, I am led to believe that the last name---ecclesiology--is the source of the greatest difficulty. How one receives the document depends in great part upon the view of the Church--the ecclesiology--that is operative, consciously or uncon-sciously, in the reader:. Ecclesiology is assuredly an issue, for relatedness of religious life to the Church is one of the clearest affirmations in Essential Elements. In his letter accompanying the document John Paul refers to this fact in such phrases as "their ecclesial vocation,TM and "specific relation to tile' Church."~ Essential Elements repeats and elaborates these ideas: "Religious life belongs to the life and holiness of the Church. The Church authenticates the gift and mediates the consecration.6 And throughout there is a steady recurrence of phi'ases like "canonically erected by competent ecclesiastical authority";7 "according to constitutions wh'ich the Church, by her authority, accepts and approves";8 or "works of charity entrusted to the institute by the Church and performed in her name.''9 Relationship to the Church is in fact the seventh of the ten essentials named. Some parts of the section bear quoting: Religious life has its own place in relation to the divine and hierarchical structure of the Church. The founders and foundresses of religious institutes ask the hierarchial Church.publicly to authenticate the gift of God on which the existence of the institute depends. In their origins, religious institutes depend in a unique way on the hierarchy. As a particularly rich and important example of these manifold gifts, each religious institute depends for the authentic discernment of its founding charism on the God-given ministry of the hierarchy. This relationship obtains not only for the first recognition of the institute but also for its ongoing development. In short, the Church continues to mediate the conseCratory action of God in a specific way, recognizing and fostering this particular form of consecrated life.t0 Similarly in the section on evangelical witness it is noted that the saving work of Christ is shared by means of the concrete services mandated by the Church 'in the approval of the constitutions,tt The fact of this approval qualifies'the kind of service to be undertaken, since it must be faithful to the Gospel, the Church and the institute.12 ¯ .These statements are explicit to the poi'nt of overkill. They can be seen as a Ecclesial Relationships for Religious / $15 counterbalance (if not a reaction) to the exuberance of post-conciliar years in which the institutional dimension of the Church had been played down, if not denigrated. To understand how this state of affairs came about, it will be helpful to look at events in the field of ecclesiology both during and after the Council: In the first session of Vatican II the proposed schema on the Church offered by the Theological Commission was modeled, on the standard theological treatment of th~ manuals, a treatment laying heavy stress on the juridical and organizational aspects of the Church. Quite early in the debate the Council Fathers realized that the desired definition and description could not be simply in external, hierarchical terms, but the Church must be seen as mystery, that is, as described by Paul V1, a divine reality inserted into history, not fully to be captured by human thought and language. It is an indication of the development of the Church's understanding bf her nature and mission that the bishops turned to a fresh approach which would, be more historical, dynamic, and biblical. After a new draft and a series of revisions during the second and.third sessions, Lumen Gentium, The Dogmatic Constitution on the Church,~3 was approved almost unanimously/and was immediately pro-mulgated, November 21, 1964. ~ The course of theology these past two decades has been charted largely by the insights'of Lumen Gentium. Its pastorial stance, its :use of fresh imagery, and its insistence on the universal c, all to holiness provided a new approach to the role of .the laity. Its presentation of the episcopate (a subject whose discussion had been necessarily cut short~ during the interrupted deliberations of Vatican I) introduced collegiality. And the discussion of the relation between the Church and other Christians led not only to rapprochement with other denominations but, through recognition of the Spirit's action in all men and women, led the Church to a clearer understanding of her own nature and mission. The decision of the Council Fathers to begin their reflection at the level of mystery, and only thereafter consider the visible, hierarchical elements of the Church was not fortuitous. The work of Vatican .II was built on an .ecclesiology which had been developing for the past half century. Nevertheless the Council, by reason of its stature and its pronouncements, gave a definite impetus to subsequent studies in ecclesiology= The topic is a leading one in the system of Karl Rahner. The major post-coriciliar work of Hans Kiing deals with the Church. Edward Schillebeeckx' recent works in Christology followed upon his treatment, over a period of years,of the Church in terms of sacramentality. On the popular level Avery Dulles' Models of the Church helped the non-specialist to appreciate the Church by means of many models, intellectual constructs, each giving a particular insight into the mystery of the Church, never fully to be apprehended by any of the models, or, indeed, by all of them~ Despite the advances of Vatican II and of subsequent ecclesiology, it 5"14 ] Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 should be recognized that the theology of Vatican I1 is transition theology. Lumen Gentium, for example, is filled with fresh insights, but these are seldom developed and their relation to older views--which the Council apparently still espoused--is not always evident. For example, although: Lumen Gentium treated the'x;isible, hierarchical dimension of:the Church only in second place, the institutional element still looms large, partially, of course, because it could be dealt, with in practical, coherent terms. (Probably the Church as institution is still the model in. possession~among the rank and file.) Again, the Council documents speak often of charismata (dona is the word used) but apart from insisting that these must be respected when shown to be genuine, little is said about the. relationship between "the gifts, both hierarchical ,and charismatic"~4 and their interplay. All in all, a kind of nervousness characterizes some postconciliar theology, especially in "official" statements~ a tendency to distrust the initial steps taken by the Council Fathers and to return to the safer paths of neoscholasticism.~5 l.believe Essential Elements shows such a tendency. At the.same time, by its consideration of the Church0primarily as mystery and its subordination of hierarchical to charismatic elements, Lumen Gentium itself supplied ammunition for the kinds of anti-institutional attacks we have witnessed in recent years. By a sort of semantic shift, "institutional, hierarchical Church" is sometimes referred to as.a separate entity over against---even in conflict with--the "charismatic Church?' When such polarization occurs it is easy to neglect or deny the interpenetration of the visible and invisible dimensions. An authentic theology, however, must develop from an under, standing of the Church as a single reality, both visible and invisible, having both hierarchical and charismatic elements. 16 One consequence of polarization can be seen in a renewed emptiasis upon institutional factors, possibly to balance what is, seen as a too enthusiastic espousal of a "spiritual" Church. Such stress is found in Essential Elements, which notes that the Church's hierarchic character proceeds from the headship of Christ,17 and calls deliberate attention to "the divine and hierarchical structure of the Church."~8 Posing the two dimensions one against the other can be avoided by the sacramental recognizing nature of the Church, an aspect Which is treated in a few, but crucial, sections of Lumen Gentium. Its opening paragraph names the Church."a kind of sacrament or;sign of intimate union with God, and of the unity of' all mankind." It insists that the visible assembly and the spiritual community"form one interlocked reality which is composed of a human and a divine element."~9 But here again the insight is not developed and we are not told how the Church is this sign.20 . .0 The-sacramental principle--a distinguishing mark Of Roman Catho-licism- affirms that God works in and through visible, material :reality. The" principle stems from the realization that, since men and women are finite and limited, the divine is available only sacramentally, that is, by mediation. This sacramental encounter is the point of intersection between God and hispeople, an encounter is the point of intersection between God and his people, an Ecclesial Relationships for Religious / 515 encounter through which the grace of Christ reaches individuals and communi-ties. As Thomas Aquinas teaches, Jesus Christ is the great sacrament of God's presence and salvific action. Similarly the Church is the sign of Christ and the Spirit's'~healing presence among us. This traditional teaching has been utilized by many contemporary theologians who see in sacramentality a key to understanding the Church and her mission. Essential Elements insists that religious life "in a special way participates in the sacramental nature of the People of God."~1 But even if one considers the Church primarily in sacramental terms, as the document~ purports to do,22 the visible, institutional aspects can be overpowering--and Essential Elements is here a parade example. It is quite possible to accept :fully the principle of mediation and at the same time object to its wholesale application. In the widest sense sacramentality or mediation applies to the realities through, which the transcendent is disclosed and communicated tb us--realities also through which .our responses to the transcendent are experienced. It is in this very broad sense that Essential Elements uses the principle. This extension of the concept of mediation to numerous aspects of religious life meets with strong criticism and resistance. The document is heavily weighted in terms of mediation through the visible Church and her hierarchy. For example, the profession of the counsels is mediated by the Church;23 it is the Church that authenticates and mediates consecration;24 and continues to mediate the consecratory action of God.2~ Further, the document is replete with phrases like "competent ecclesiastical authority".26 ".vows~which the Church receives",~7 and "authority conferred by the Church."~ Additional evidence of the role of mediation can be seen in the emphasis place upon consecration. Following its sources,~9 Essential Elements insists that "the baptismal gift is the. fundamental Christian consecration and is the root of all others.~° With the:same fidelity3~ it notes that religious life is "a partictilar form of consecration."~ Despite the rather frequent use of the word, however, thenotion of consecration is not central in the source documents, as is evident in specifying phrases such as "a certain special consecration."~a (It is noteworthy also that the Council' Fathers rejected De consecratis "Concern- Consecrated Persons"--as a title for the conciliar decree on religious life.) It is somewhat surprising, then; that Essential Elements has seized upon con-secration as the category unde~ which to organize what it has to say about religious life, ~tating explicitly: "Consecration is the basis of religious life,TM and then continuing to use consecration as a leitmotif in almost every subsequent section. This focus is not pleasing to everyone. True, consecration has been an honored concept in the tradition of the Church for long centuries, but it is not a popular focus today. Consecration (setting aside some one or some thing for divine worship and service) smacks of dualism, and introduces dichotomies alien to a contemporary holistic approach to reality. Rightly or wrongly, the term is seen by some as elitist, a perpetuation of the "state of perfection" 516 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 mentality. It can also be argued that a decree.addressed to members of institutes dedicated to works of the apostolate should accord a higher place to mission, even though the document is careful to note that consecration always leads to mission.35 Further, Essential Elements insists that consecration takes place through an ecclesiastical, hierarchical function; Lumen Gentium states that the liturgical setting of religious profession manifests that it is .a state consecrated to God.37' Thus the action of the Church looms large in comparison with the subjective dedication, that commitment is more decisive than its acceptance by the Church through the hierarchy, an acceptance which makes the commitment visibly and publicly ecclesial. In speaking of conse-cration through the profession of the counsels, Perfectae caritatis says that the perfection of the consecration depends on the~stability of the vows or other bonds.38. On the contrary, it should be emphasized that what consecrates is not the vows,o,but the commitment expressed through the vows," which are specification for a life of total dedication. As the documents themselves make clear, totality is the characteristic of religious life. For many .religious the category of discipleship is a far more meaningful biblical paradigm to use in talking about religious life. Critics have asked why such an attractive concept was not utilized more fully, especially in light of the earlier declaration that "since the fundamental norm of religious life is a following of Christ as proposed by the Gospel, such is to be.regarded by all communities as their supreme law."39 Discipleship is a popular theme today; its bibliography--both for religious and Christians in general--grows apace.~° Avery Dulles has revamped his models in favor of the Church as ~i community of disciples; certainly this schema does justice to the elements present in the other models.4~ Essential Elements, however, refers'only briefly~to discipleship: "Formation is the process of becoming more and more a disciple of Christ."42 Possibly the writers chose to stress consecration (even, as we have seen, expanding the comments of its sources) because discipleship is seen a~ a gift and challenge to all the people of God, and to describe religious life as a particular~ form of discipleship might not provide a sufficient distinction. Consecration, of course, implies discipleship. As already noted; the authen-ticity of the consecration depends upon the. genuine commitment of the subject, that is, upon the acceptance of the demands of a life of discipleship. Critics may be right in holding that the emphasis on consecratio.n--neces~arily external' and involving mediation--may obscure the element of personal decisions and dedication as well as invite unneeded supervison from without. Consecraton can become a mere rite--something that is done to me, Anrther aspect Essential Elements chose not to treat is the prophetic nature of religious life. Here the document imitates the reserve of its sources. Considering the prophetic role of the people of God Lumen Gentium notes only that . ¯ the holy People ofGod shares also in Christ's prophetic office. It spreads abroad a " living witness to him, especially by a life of faith and:charity and by offering tO God a Ecclesial Relationships for Religious / 517 sacrifice of praise, the tribute of lips which give honor to his name.43 Nowhere does it elaborate this theme. In the subsequent chapter on religious the many riches of their life are noted, but without specific mention of a prophetic function.'~ Essential" Elements does not go beyond its sources, although some paragraphs in the section on witness show a prophetic stance.45 Conciliar documents and subsequent pronouncements have made a studied effort to avoid defining too closely the essence of ~'eligious life. Despite the emphasis it places upon consecration Essential Elements calls tfiis the basis not the essence, of religious life. Public vows, consecration, life in community all these are described and discussed but with no affixing of strict labels. Given the evolution of religious life over the centuries (the shift from eremetical to cenobitical forms, the role of poverty, the concept of mediated obedience, the juridical nature of religious commitment)° it would be foolhardy to fasten upon any one of these important elements as everywhere and at all times essential to religious life. What the°history of religious life does make clear is that this way of life is created by a person's total dedication to God in an' exclusive relationship. Early monks were described (and later defined) as completely ded!cated to God and totally oriented to his service. To become a monk was identical with giving oneself over to God. Later St. Thomas insisted on the totallgift of one's life as the hallmark of religious life. Celibacy, renunciation, eventually mediate~d obedience all were expressions of the interior commitment to live entirely for God. The religious brings the commitment common to all Christians to the level of a lifestyle. As the core of such a life is the personal decision to respond, to the internally received vocation. Vatican II acknow-ledged this interpretation, affirming that the religious is "totally dedicated to God and is committed to the honor and service of God under a new and special title."46 Perfectae carita~is speaks of "self-surrender involving their entire lives,"47 and "a call to live for God alone."~8 Essential Elements picks up on the same note, speaking of a "profound and free self-surrender."49 The religious "dedicates the whole of life.to God's service."~0 In reflecting on the relative merits of consecration and discipleship as the better paradigm for clarifying religious life, it is ~vell to remember that all our descriptions and discussioris are part. of the history of a form of life which is still evolving. The definitive word on the Church has yet to be. spoken; how much more so for religious life! Surely there is room for more than one view. Given the conservative (preservative) nature of religious writing in general, the document of n~cessity shows a rootedness in .th+ past and a somewhat unwilling concession to the exigencies of the contempo~rary scene. But it has definitely advanced beyond positions of twenty years ago, evincing a greater understanding of different styles of community life, of the need for new forms of service, the mutuality of authority and obedience, and the nature and scope of format~.on. De.spite shortcomings, it is a document we can live and work with. 5111 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 But each of us comes to the reading of Essential Elements with particular baggage of our own baggage which may lead us to accept or reject the document out of hand. I would now like to consider some of the obstacles in the way of an honest approach to Essential Elements. Today we hear a great deal about tension: tension headaches and tensions between the super-powers; harmful tensions and creative tensions; interpersonal and intrapersonal tensions. It is the last-n~med--intrapersonal--that I want to speak aboui. All of. us necessarily operate with inner tensions which can be destructive or helpful depending on how successfully we achieve a creative balance. Most ofour specific tensions can be gro.uped under the master category of a tension between the world of desire and the world of limitsP~ A consideration of this topic may furnish some insights on our attitude to the Church in general and to Essential Elements in particular. It does noi require much reflection on the data of our experience to show that human thoughts and feelings oscillate between the poles of great expectations--for ourselves and our world and a depressed.recognition of the barriers imposed by our finiteness. Lumen Gentium says it well: ¯ . tl~e modern world shows itself at once powerful and weak. capable of the noblest deeds or the foulest . The truth is that the imbalances under which the.modern world labors are.linked with that more basic imbalance rooted in the heart of man. For ~n man 'himself many elements wrestle with each other. Thus. on the one hand? as a creature he experiences his limitations in a multitude of ways. On the other, he feels himself to be boundless in his desires and summoned to a higher life.52 The language of Lumen Gentium is abstract and non-specific, but practical examples from everyda3~ life are not lacking, The realm of desires is the realm of imagining, questioning, fantasizing--outside space and time where the human spirit meets no fixed limits. We can thirst to be theacme of beauty or charm, to attain all wealth or knowledge, to abolish in~hstice and brifig peace to the world. No sooner do we pe,rceive something to be good than we can desire it. But the moment we attempt to actualize our desire we meet limits, for every acl of choice is an act of self-limitation as well. Some of these limits are built in: our sex, race, nationality. Others are products of our environment, training and education. Our desire for knowledge is contained by our mental ability, educationai opportun!ties or financial status. We can be overwhelmed by these' limits and refuse to work at transcending them or we can unrealistically deny their existence and embark on a Faustian venture doomed to failure. We mu~t have a healthy ~respect for limitations, but not settle for them. Conversely, like Daniel we must bemen and women of desire, aspiring to'excellence, but aware of limits, l~esires and limits interact: they test, correct and sustain each other. in a particular situation, however, we may deny one or the other and fail to hold them in creative (ension. We haay objectify our boundaries, making a value of our very limitations. Or we may objectify our aspirations, setting them Ecclesial Relationships for Religious / 5"19 forth as values in themselves and refusing to acknowledge any restrictions upon them.53 Briefly, and perhaps simplistically, a religious with a strongly institutional view of the Church may hold such a position through a kind of mindless loyalty which relieves her or him of responsibility for life decisions. Likewise the one who places no curb upon personal autonomy and independence may dismiss outright directives coming from hierarchical sources. The refusal to transcend limits or the failure to acknowledge them results in a harmful imbalance leading to depression, anger and arrogance. Some examples will illustrate our subject at hand relatedness to the Church. In the first place, we come up against the need to find a balance between desires and limits as we reflect upon the respective demands of tradition and experience. T.S. Eliot has observed that the mature poet must possess the historical sense--a perception not only of the past as past but of its, abiding presence: the poet must write with all of Europe in his bones.54 This kind of interaction is hard to come by, the more so in contemporary society. Our age of pluralism and personalism stresses, and quite rightly, the role of experience in living responsibly. Pope John noted this in his opening address .to the Vatican Council: ¯. the spirit of the ~,hole world expects a step forward toward a doctrinal penetration and a formation of consciousness ~n faithful and perfe~:t conformity to the authentic doctrine, which, however, should be studied and expounded through the methods ofo research and through the literary forms of modern thought. The substance of the ancient deposit of faith is one thing; the way in which it is presented is another.5~ Contemporary iheology¯in general works to correlate the classic formula-tions of faith with today's experience of salvation, a task involving past and present, tradition and experience in a process which is the pro.duct, not of caprice or whim. but of a.reflecting faith communityP6 In the particular theology of religious life we must bring our own experience to bear on the received teaching about that life. Ideally interaction should result, but realistically one or other element tradition or experience may be minimized or denied. A religious may place such restrictions on consulting the data of experience that he becomes frozen in the past. If the only thing necessary is to rec~ix~e a pat:adigm of religious life from others--whether the constitutions of my institute or hierarchical pronouncements--then personal experience is of small moment. Life then becomes a constant, perhaps defiant, reiteration of tradition. Personalism. pluralism, consultation of experience are all regarded as a betrayal of religious life. When a document like Essential Elements is received it is absorbed but held apart from the events in life which legitimately modify its content. On the other hand, a religious can objectify her own experience, making it the primary judge of reality, canonizing it to the point of neglect or denial Of the place of tradition in religious life, with a consequent dismissal of whatever does not accord with individual experience. But raw experience has little value. T.S. Eliot mourns,."We have had the experience but missed the meaning.'~7 Constitutions must do more than describe contemporary experience; they 590 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 must submit that experience to the light of the Gospel and traditional teaching concerning religious life. An oft-repeated criticism of Essential Elements is its failure adequately to acknowledge "the American e.~xperience," both the impact of democracy upon the experienc~e of religious life'in general, and the more specific American experience of the past two "decades of adaptation and renewal. Religious everywhere exist within the context of a particular culture which profoundly affects and shapes their lives. In the United States these past twenty years have witnessed the effort to articulate a form of religious life which is genuine and at the same time inculturated, that is, disengaged from the structures and customs of the past and brought into' line with contemporary American life. Inculturation is a desideratum, but so is "counterculturation," particularly for religious. Once again we .are in the world of desires and limits. The requirement~ of a culture often lead to a re-interpretation of the founder's charism. But not all elements of a culture are compatible with the Gospel; some are hostile. For authentic religious life there must be a continuing dialogue between the Gospel and its cultural expression. Let us look at another example. The Council calls us to be a pilgrim people, wayfaring Christians who have here no lasting ~ity. But the attitude proper to a pilgrim is threatened by the nester (who wants to move not at all) and by the rover (for whom change is the very stuff of life). The nester is all too willing to stay put. Religious 'who ' welcome the document's stre~s upon corporate mission, seeing in it the preservation of the founder's charism and an assurance of Church approval, need to reflect whether such l~oyalty does not stem from an exaggerated nesting instinct which makes thefia satisfied with limitations, freeing them from the risk of other works or from~the challenging forms of community and prayer which new tasks might demand. Nesters t~est comfortably in their limits, taking a passive stance and opting for the security provided by familiar structures. Nesters are often hard workers, but comfort and security, not challenge and growth, are their expectations of religious life. The kingdoffi °lSossesses for them no sense of urgency. Because such persons often do not think for themselves, they readily go along with the crowd and compromise values if this will help mairitain the status quo. To move frbm nester to pilgrim the situation must be acknowledged~ for what it is: a refusal to transcend limits and take responsibility for life. Such recognit.ion brings freedom to move beyond self, freedom to become a genuine pilgrim. Rovers too have difficulty balancing desires and limits, but of a different kind. Such religious entertain exaggerated notions of what (hey or their institute could accomplish if freed from hierarchical trammels. In warnings about scattering resources over too many works the rovers see only an encouragement of timid mediocrity and they are resentful of anyone who suggests parameters to their utopian schemes. Moving from project to project, they are voluble about what they are against--less clear about what they stand Ecclesial Relationships for Religious / 521 for. Destructive anger is often operative under the guise of zeal for the kingdom and service for the oppressed. A true pilgrim spirit cannot be attained without recognizing the poverty imposed by limitations. Johannes Metz observes: Through the transcendental expanse of his spirit, man lives in the open air. in the future of unlimited possibilities. His task is not to lose himself there, 15ut to make something of himself through them. He makes them his potentialities by his historically unique and irrevocable personal decision, through which he finds a foothold in the th~:ust of his existence. Doubtless we could multiply instances of such tensions within us. Let a final eXample serve as summary: the struggle between self-fulfillme~nt and self-transcendence. Thanks to developments in philo.sophy and the behavioral sciences our society has passed from institutionalism to personalism,,from an often static essentialism to existentialis.m. Religious life has reflected these changes. As novices many of us were "trained" (and the word is significant) in a traditional ethic Of self-denial and conformity; now we are confronted with healthful challenges to personal growth through responsible decision-making. Where once we awaited assignment at the discretion of the superior, now our gifts, our talents---even our preferences--are consulted and respected. The insights of psychology tell us that much of the discipline of the past--the asceticism, penitential practices, total-institution structures--was not the excellent means for personal development we once thought. Scores of institutes have mounted extensive programs: workshops in psychology, assertiveness training, human potential and the like--all dedicated to the self-actualization of the religious. This is to the good. Religious who were formerly content to let life happen to them, with limits imposed' by institutional structures and custom, have awakened to a sense:of freedom, responsibility and renewed vitality. They can now rejoice in new ways of acting unfettered by pessismism] legalism or guilt. But the journey°to self-fulfillment has pitfalls of its own. The goods of p~rsonal growth and independence can assume top rank in a hierarchy of objectified, individualistic values. The movement to actualize human potential can be trivialized tb the point of a petulant "doing my thing." Poised against the desire fore fulfillment is the Gospel call to conversion and self-transcendence. Behavioral scientists ask how the self of psychology and the self of the Gospel can be reconciled and some of them see no possibility of this. An easy appeal to the slogan, "The glory of God is man fully alive," would seem to suggest that the path of self-actualization is the only one we need to ~follow. But Jesus' directives about denying oneself, taking up the cross and even dying are still normative for the Christian. The dichotomy between self-fulfillment and the demands of Christian spirituality can be bridged only by a transcendence that reaches beyond both self-actualization and self-denial. Our deepest yearnings-- the desire for meaning, truth, value, love---can be satisfied only when we shift our primary focus from our personal needs and desires to the needs of others. It is to such transcendence that John Paul calls the whole Church, but 522 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 especially us religious, inviting us to live more intensely .the mystery of the redemption. It is a call to holiness and renewal, a call to penance and conversion.59 In practical terms the call requires objective and humble evaluation of our life. We can of course choose not to heed this particular appeal. ,We can receive the document as an unwelcome and unwarranted admonition, spend our timelooking for the hidden agenda, fault the document for its omissions and commissions. In such case we have'had the experience but missed the meaning. ~ Essential Elements is an authoritative document, but not a definitive one. Like Lumen Gentium it does not canonize the past nor consecrate tl~e present but prepa.res for the futui'e, not least of all by reason of the fruitful dialogue it can initiate. A healthy realism shows that we are all, hierarchy and religious alike, part of a sinful Church, semperformanda et reformanda. We manifest the mystery of the Lord "ina faithful though shadowed Way.'~0 Let us work to remove the shadows so that we may become those "blazing emblemsTM of the kingdom in a Church which is truly lumen gentium, the light of the world. NOTES ~Hereafter, Essential Elements or EE. The edition used is that of the Daughters of St. Paul, Boston, 1983. ~lts application must be made with due regard for the principles applicable to all magisterial pronouncements. These principles, however, are not always clear. Karl Rahner notes, ~Theology has shown relatively little interest in a more nuanced answer to the question of the proper and permissible relationship of, the average Catholic to the official teaching of the Ch,,urch." See Rahner and K-H. Weger; Our Christian Faith: Answer for the Future (New ~ork: Crossroad, 1981), p. 125. 3EE. 2. 4Lette~ of John Paul II in EE, 4. 51bid. 3. 6EE, 8. 71bid, 10:, 81bid, II. 91bid; 12. ~01bid, 38, 40, 41, 42. ~qbid, 24. ~21bid ~3Hereafter,'LG. The sohrce for this and other documents of Vatican !I is Walter M. Abbott, ed., The Documents of Vatican !! (New York: Herder and Herder, 1966)~ ~4LG, 4. ~sSee Karl Rahner,~Concernfor the Church, Theological Investigations, XX, tr. E. Quinn (New York: Crossroad. 1981), pp, 94--97, ~6"~he disjunctive use of these terms is unfortunate. Karl Rahner notes that "the official element in the Church has a ~zharismatic element. For it is evident that the gifts of the Spirit can only be regulated by a gift of the Spirit. In other words any attempt to regard the official and charisma

Issue 3.4 of the Review for Religious, 1944. ; JuLY I5, 1944.3 " De,~;o}ion to~fh~ .Pr~cibus BIood"~ : . . Franclsk. .F.i.l.as E)owr) of Religious Women ,. ¯ .,. ¯ ; . ¯ Adam C. Ellis ",,Sabred, HearfPi~ogram, ¯ ¯ ,. ¯ : ¯ ." ¯ App~ar=f=ons, af Faf=m ¯ ' ;William A. ~Donaghy Worthmessm. Frequenf Communion . ,. Communicatior~s Bo"o ~ks R ~evieWed -Ou'es fi6nsA n~s weecrJ~ '" ~ ' De s~ ioins of-÷~h e H~)¯I S e ye " " NUMBER :.4 VOLU~E III. ° JULy .15, 1944 ~" NUMBER,~ CONTENTS ' . :THE DEVOTION TO THE PRECIOUS~ BLOOD~Fran¢is L. Filas,, S J. BOOKS RECEIVED ~ , ~ ¯ ' ¯ . t . "' . " 223 THE DOWRY OF RELIGIOUS W, OMEN--Adam C.'Ellis, S.J. . .' . 224 THE¯ SACR.I~D HEAI~T PROGRAM~-Eugene PM'. urphy, S.J . 240 "~HE. APPARITIONS AT FATIMA.---William A. Donaghy, S.J. '~ 245 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . . ., . - ~ . t 251 SAFEGUARDING WORTHY RECEPTION IN THE PRACTICe" OF FREQUENT COMMUNION l~mile Bergh, ~.d. 552 DECISIONS OF TI-iE HOLY SEE OF INTEREST TO RELIGIOU2.S68 : COMMUNICATIONS (On' Retreats) . "270 UNIFORM VERSION OF MASS ! "" 274 .;~BOOK REVIEWS (Edited by Clement DeMuth,"S.J,)-- Origen, His Life at Alex_andria; National Patriotism in Papal Teaching: ¯ Letters to. Persons in R,eligion:~ La Charte du Royaume Cr~tien; James . , Laynez, J~suit;\The, Christ: the Son of God: All for Jesus ' 27~5- "QIJESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- ' . 27. Portiuncula Indulgence-in Convent Chapels : ¯ ¯ . . 280 ~ 28. Mort;q-Sin against Justice and P,o~erty .~ 282- '.2 2 Superior's Power to Give Himself Permissions¯ ,. ¯ .' ¯ ¯ -i ~ ~: Z- -*; - , ' ,. _ REV, IEW FOR RELI.GIOUS. July. 194:4. Vol. III, No. 4-Published bi-monthly: _ January, March, May, July, September,. and November at the College "Press: 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's'College, St., MarTs, Kansas. ",~ith eccle'~iastical approbation. Entere~d as second class matter Januar:' 15; 1942. at the Post Office, To.pek,'a, 'Kansas, under the. a.ct of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. AugustineoEllard, S.3.Gerald ~Kelly,.~ "S.J.' Copyright, 1944, by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is'hereby granted for qubtltions of ~reasonable length, provided" due- credit be given this review and the author. Subscription, price:. 2 dollars ao yea/'. ~ o B'~fore writin9 to us, please consult notice on inside, back cover. Precious t~rancis L. Filas, iN ~-HE rich devotional !ire of the Church we are enc~ur- | ,_.,aged to honbr, our Lord s, sacred humanity under various aspects, gaining thereby a keener insigh.t into the.,attrac-,. °tire, compel!ing beauty of His character. All these-devo-tions that center ardund Christ hav~ the common aim of ?tr~n.gthening our lov~ and calling for our imitation, Most_ of them restrict themselves to a well-defined period or pliase of His life, such as the Holy Childhood, the Passion, or the Blessed' Sacrament, but this ordinary ~ule.does not hold.~ i~a the case-of the devotions to the Sadred Heart and to the Precious Blood. These two can be applied to any period_ or phrase, of' Christ's life~, ~¢hether on earth, in Heaven, or in the Holy Eucharist. What ~s ~he essence o]~ the devotion to the Preciou~ ,-~Blood?--The question does .not appear to be answered directlyqr~ any autho?itative document of the Church, but" we :can arrive at. a safe conclusi6"n by considering ~he' lan-guage of Holy Scripture, the liturgy, and the°decrees o1~ various popes. These .sources indicate that the devoti6r~ consistsbf the_.adoration of the blood of Christmas the sym- ,b~oI an_d particularly as the meang of our _~ed¢mption; th~ Precious-Blood is the spiritual drink which wins eve~lasting- ~life for our souls and° glorio~us resurrection ,for our bodies. " "~'hus, dfter the mirac-ulou~ feeding of tile'five thousand, des_us sa~d, "Amen, amen; I say to you, unless you e~t ihe flesh' of the.Son of Man and drifil~ His blood, yoff shall-not have life in you. He who eats" My flesh and drinks My blood has.life, everlasting, and I will raise,him' up on the l~is[ ~ ~-2"~ F~^NCIS L. FIL/~S - ,~ o" "t Review for~Retigiott~ o d~y" (John. 6:54-55)i'-; and at the~ Last-Supper J, esus sol-~ -. o~:'. _ .emnly. affirrned~ "This is My blood.of the new covenant.~. which is b.~i.ng shed for ;haany Unto the forgiv#nes-sLof sins'.' .~M;atthe-w 26:28) ,*-' i " St.~Peter's words are classic, "You know~that~ you ~. , were redeemed from the vain manner of life handed down ÷~ " from~your fathers~ not with perishable thing.s, w.ith silv~'~ or ~old, but with the ~precious blood of Chr!st, .as Of a lamb- -'~ .i-~ _witbdut blemish.and without .spot" (1 Peter 1:18-19). .Oo, in the AlSocalypse (5:9) one of th~ songs .of praise ~to. 0_ sthcreo Llla'amnbd otof oGpoedn bit,se gseinasls, ;" f.oWr-oTrhthoyu awrta sTt hsolaui nto'a t_ankd~- ht~het" - redeefiaed-us for God witl5" Thy blood.~' St.Pau! purst.~es ~- .o the :sime._t.l?ought in the epistl~ to the Ephesians~ (1:7): - "Iff Him we have~r&lemption through His blo0~, ~the " remission of sins,~ acci3~rding to the riches of His grace.7 Iia the lit~ur~y the prayer for, the feast:of (he Precibus Blood ~calls the blood of.the Redeemer the,~"price,-of dur sa_lvhti'on," .and the mehns by which God in His ju.stic_e "willed t~ accept'satisfaction." Moreover, at every Mass ('which-is, of course, the" renewal of th~ sacrifice of Cal.vary.):the .Church sets forth the Precious Blood for our adoratidn. In 1'34.3 Pope Cle~e~at VI. declared that .a singl~ ~drop~'- -:of'the Precioug Blood wourd have sufficed to ~redeem us. al[hough as a matter of fact Christ in His generosity willed ~.2_ to atone for our sins" not~.lSy this one_ drop aldne but by a ~- '.'eopi~us sheddihg of His blood.''1 Almost a hundred ~ years ago, when.Pius IX~ex~effded the.feast of the~Precious [- ~Blood to the-whole Church, he officially stated that "we -~ _have-been redeemed in the blood of-our Lord Jesus;Chris't . .'. which cleanse~us frpmMl,stain. Antiif in Egypt the :.~ ~'houSes that were sprinkled w.it~a the blood of a lamb were - ¯ savedfrom the wrath of God, how much more w:ill~those aBhll, Un)geni~us Dei ~Filius; DB 550. " 218" ~ -~-d-l~t, i~9~14~ "~ " THE DEVOTIOn'TO THE PRECIOUS BE~D ~ ~,persons. escape -that:wrath' "nay, they.will- 5e filled-with .~_ ~e~ and .gra~e ~wb~ ~enerate and adore the blood o~ our Savior ~ith ~peci~l devotibn.''~ Finaliy,.in 1934 a decree~ ~o~ PiusXI again set forth this same doctrine'in i~s re~erence ',~ to the "Precious Blood o~ Christ, ~by which we ,have been ~ed~emed."~ " ~ ~o appreciate the.devotion t~oroughly, we bugbt to :~' understafid the p~ihciples on which it is based. To begin with-a ~ndamental-idea, we adore the human Bature of our blessed Lord becauseit was assumed by the Second Per- ~_ son o~ the Blessed Trinity; for whatever belongs to a per- ¯ "- son ~ubstantially, deserves the same respect as is accorded to 'th~per~on. In this case-the Person is God; there~bre, the human n~ture which He took to Himsel~ shouI~ be adored. In bri~est compass, the man 3esus Christ is God. ,~ -': S~. Athanasius explains tBe matter in these.@ords: "By ~ no means do we adore a creature; this is an error o~,-tbe :~ ~. pagans-and the Arian .heretics. We adore the Lord o~ the creature,, the Word made flesh, for.although the flesh is o~ itse~ something created, it ha~-become the body of Go~d. "Who is so fbolish ,as to say to our Lord, 'Go out o~ Thy ~, body ip order that"I may adore T~ee'?"" .In honoring the Precious Blood .we honor Christ, for "" ~be'Precious'Blood is a p~rt of Hishuman nature. Here~ we follow a principle which i~ universally observed in -~daily life, "namely~ that "honor paid to a part o~a person '" "i~ paid to the person to whom the part belongs." When people shake hands in greeting each other, no, one ~upposes that the greeting is nbt from person to person simply because the hands alone express it;- Or in~ thetraditional "" example of the beggar who kisses the hand o~ his benefactor ~."A~thent. CollecL Decret. ~. R. C. n. 2978. xaAAS, 26, 560, 4Letter to ~Adelphius. n: 3: MPG 261 1073. 219 AlqCIS L'. FILAS ~ Revi2u~ f6r Religious it is clear that the" hand is~only thd instrument of the g~ne'r-o~ ity o~f the benefactorl In_a certain sefise (though in an~ 0 imrh'easurably superior degree and more excelIent ma.z~ner) - we honor the.preciou~s Blood just as W~ honor the fingers° of the virtuoso or the voice of the opera star. The Church'has always exercised great prudence qn ~guarding the orthodoxy and propriety of the devo6c~ns that center around our Lord: For example, in 182-g andl~ 18635 the Congregation of Sacred Rites declared that relics .tinge~ with the blood of Christ were not to be a-dqred as was.the Blessed Sacrament, nor w~re they to.be placed in the tabernacle" ~ith the Sacred Host; they were" to be~ granted only such veneration as is accord'ed::relics of tlae~ ~True Cross. This wise regulation was based oia the fact. that if the blood was ~ctually the blood shed~by our Lor~l " during the Passiog, its separate existence now merely pioved that it was not reassumed into the glorified body of Christ when He arose from the dead. In other words.it v)as no lbnger the b1'ood'of the living Savior. St. Thomas A~uinas proposes a.nother, possible reason in his, belief that "the blood which is preserved in ceitain churehes as a reli did not flow from the side of Christ,.but is said ,to have flowed miraculously °from some ima~ge~ of ,Christ.''~ Clearly, even blood from a-miraculou, sly bleeding :- image or Host cannot be the blood of the living 3esus, for-~ '~We know thatChrist, having risen from the dead, dies now no more, death shall nO longer have dominion over.'; Him" (Romans 6:9), and He can. no longer shed His~. blood. We posses, s the Precious Blood of'-the.living Chrisv only under the veils of the sacramental species. -~ " ¯ So rhuch for the theological¯ aspect of the devotion.~ His2 torically,' the lives7 6f the saints of all ages sho~ h~w 5Authent. Collect. Decret. 8. R. C., n. 2660 and n. 3176. OSurama Tobeologica, 3a, q.54. art. 2. 220 ~ / ~ J'ul~, 1944 THE DEVOTION TO TH~ PRECIOUS BLooD - deeply.th.ey reveri~d ~th~'blood shed for our redemption. During the early sevehteenth century confraternities were ojganized in Spain whose purpose W~;s to venerate~ the Pre-~ cious Blood. Th2e forerunner of the present Archc6nfra-ternity Of the Most Precious Blood was established in-1"808 '- y Msgr. Albertini; a priest ~of Rome. Its members were to meditate Often on the Passion and w, ere to offer the Precious Blood to God for atonement and for the dire needs of the times. "Plus VII raised it to the rank of arcbconfrat~erfi'ity in 1815. In 1850 an English branch was erected: in the London Oratory, and it was in commemoration of the tenth ,anniversary of this in, troduction in[o.London that Father° Frederick Faber wrote his choice work, The Precious Blood. For a full development of the place of the Precious Blood in our spiritual lif~ Father Faber's ~book can be consulted with grea~ profit. Various women's congiegations of the Precious Blood had their or.ig!n in the last century, but all of them are ante-dated by°the institute - oPredious Blood, founded by Blessed (3aspare del Bufalo in~ -18.15. The third superior-general of this institute,, Don Giovanni.M~rlini, ,was with Pius IX at the time of. his exile at Gaeta. He suggested to the Pope that the feast of the Pre~ious Blood be e~tended to the entire Church in order thalt God.might grant peace again t6 the papal-states. On the very day that Plus decided to take this step---June 30, 1849~--the insurgents in Rome s~rrendered. Grateful!y th~ Pope set the date of the feast on the next day, ~hich was the first Sunday of~ July, to be celebrated as a double ,of the second class. "£1uly 1st when th, e Breviary and Missal were reformed by Pius,X in 1913. In 1934 pius XI elevated it tS a rank of.~. double of the first class !n order to commemorate the nine-,,, ~Authent. Collect. Decret. 8. R. C. n. 2978. 221 te~nth,ce.ntenary of:our Redemption.~ Review /'or ReligiouS" Turning how to consider the place of th~ Pr?cious, Blbod in the contemplation c~f'Christ's life, we find that it ~bears uni~'ersal applic~ition. At Bethelehem we can: behold_~ the Infant in the manger, in whose veins flows the bliJod~ that v)ill one. day. redgem us on Calvary. At the Circum-cision we see the first shedding°of the Precious BlOod; Jesus - sub.mits to a law- for human° beings in order to be like us in' all things, sin alone excepted. Throfighout the Hidden and the Public Lif~ the Child and later the Man ~ontinues. to grow in the strerigth'and beauty which the Precious ~Blood nourishes iri His sac~ed body. ~ ~, In Gethsemani the prospect of. bearing'th4 weight'-,of. our iniq.uities-and of suffering in vain for so many men" ov~rcom~s~ur Lord. He voluntarily permits anguish and fear to seize Him to Such an extent that the Precious Blood-'- ;trickles in heavy drops, upon the ground. Durigg th~ S_courging,. the Crownin.g with Thorns, and the. three hours on ~he Cros.s,. He offers His blood in paying the price , for the sins of mankind. " Here there appears a striking characteristic of the devo-tion to the Precious Blood: it demonstrates the tremendoui realit~ of the Passion, the truth'that. Jesus actually did undergo suffering. For us the shedding of blood is an ffnpleasant sight, difficult to bear. We instinctively-stri~e to dismiss such a picture from our imagination; its pot- - trayal-o~ suffering is too vivid. But in the case of our Lord, ,-the sight of the shedding of the Precious Blood drives home the re.alization ~hat Jesus. bore actual disgrace and con.temp~ -and pain with utmost selflessness for love of us as iffdi-- v~duals, and we can more easily make our own the applica-~ tion of St. Paul, "He loved me and gave Himself up for me, (Galatians 2:20). 0 o'" - ~ Julg, 1944 THE 'DE~rOTION-TO¢THI~ #REcIous BLOOD" " .Y~et the Precious BlOod' is not~ connected sol~fy with tl4e PaSsion. "After the Resurrection it surges joyously through ~he "glorified body of Jesus, to show" us the ultimat~e tri-u, mph of Christ's cross and the ultimate triumph of our, cross when we ~carry it, united, to Him. Jesus is,glgrified in Heaven now, ,but on earth none the less we can daily receive Hi~.~Preci~us Blood in Holy Communion, for we .r~ceive Chri~st whole and entire, body and blood, soul rind.divinity, *par[aking of the pledge of eternal life th~it'draws u~ to'look_: forward to the day when the pilgrimage and time of trial will be o~er, and body will rejoin soul for a blessed eternity. \ "" Books Received ~ (From April 20 to June 20) .~ B. HERDER BOOK CO,, St. Louis. Origen: His ~Li[e at Alexandria. By Ren~ Cadiou. Translated by "John A~ ~South~well. $3.25. James La~mez: Jesuit. B~y theReverend Joseph H. Fich-ter, S.J. ~3.00. St. Dominic and His Work. By the Reverend Pierre Man-donner, O.P. Translated by Sister Mary Benedicta~ Larkin. O.P. $5.00. Paul of Tarsus. By theRight Reverend Joseph Holzner. Translated by the Reverend Frederic Eckhoff. $5.00. An l~troduction to Philosophy. By the Reverend Paul J, Glenn, Ph.D. S;T.D. $3'.00. _~THE NEWMAN BOOKSHOP, Westminster. Md. Letters to Persons in Religion. B'y St. Francis de Sales. Translated by the-, Reverend Henry Benedict Mackey, O.S.B. $2.75. The Eterf~al Priesthoo'd. BE Henry Edward Cardinal Manning. $1.50. All for Jesus. By the Rever-end Frederick William Faber, D.D. $2.50. Summarium Theologiae Moralis. " Auctore Ant6nio M. Arregui, S.J. $2.50. -ri~HE BRUCE PUBLISHING COMPANY, Milwaukee~ .M~ Father'~ Will. By the Reverend Francis J. McGarrigle, S.J., Ph.D. $2.75". LONGMANS, GREEN ~ CO., New York. The Christ: The Son of God. By the Abb~,Constant Fouard. $2.00. " FIDES, 3425, rue Saint-Denis, Montreal. La Charte du Rog~ume Chr~tien. Par le R~v~rend P~re A'drien Malo, O.F.M. :'223 The Dowry ot: Religious Women Adam C. Ellis, S.3. IN.T.HE middle ages monasteries of nuns were supported by income derived .from permanent revenues. At tha't time, when all Europe was Catholic, popes, kings, and princes, as well as other devout and wealthy C~ith01~cs, considered the foundation of'a monastery an act of r~l.igion as well as a privilege. .By a foian~lation they understood not only the building of the monastery, but also an endow-ment. This endowment consisted ot~ lands and other reyenues to pr.gvide foJ~ the temporal needs of kthe com-mu. ni.t~. ~'hus the nuns ~ould devote ~hemselves~exclusivel~r .to the l~ife of prayer and contemplation ,which was the main purpose of their life. In the .course of time, however, various difficulties ~rose. oSnomlye. afo sumndaaltli onnus mwebreer r eolfa tnivuenl-sy. sMm~olrle a fcfadn cdoiudlda tseus.p wp0errte ~recei'ired than tlSe ordinary resou'rces of the convent cbuld maintain. Then too, in the course of time some founda: tions diminished in value and became" insufficient to suppqrt the number.of nuns originally intended. Finally, the diffi-. cult times of.the reformation were not propitious to ~he founding~of new mQnasteries, and, of the ol}t'offes, many had to be closed, while others continued to exist-ofily destitfftion. -Th~se difficulties ,eventually had to be solved ¯ by the religious dgwry: Saint Charles Borrbmeo is usually considered~ to b_e the first author of an ecclesiastical law exacting a dowry from women who wished to enter religion'. The;legislation he enacted in the First and Second Prdvincial Councils :.dr -~ . THE DOWRY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN Milan .(156~; 1569~ became the basis for later papa.l enactrfients which, in turn, have been mcorporated,-~wlth some modifications, into the'Code of Canon Law. Meaning ot: Dowrg By "dowry is. meant a definit~ sum 6f money,.or its ": equi:valent, to be p~aid by a postulant to ~he cpmmuni~y in which she Wishes to make her reli~gi~us profession, the pri-mary purpose of which is her entire of a~t l~ast parti.al sup-o~ port as long as she remains a member of the Community. The dowry, ther~efore, is not a price paid for admission into re_ligion. To accept or demand anything as a price for admission to religion would be to commit the sin of. slmofiy, as the Church has declared over and over figain. N~ither is the dowry to be confused with the paym.ent of a definit~ amount of money for board and clothing during the time of postulancy and novitiate as provided° for in can.on 570. This sum'of money a relatively .small' ¯ amount.--is actua!ly speht on the postulant or novice~by feeding her and providing~er with the religious habit. The essential characteristic of the ~o~ry is that it is a 'capital sum which must be pre.served during the lifetime of : thd iel!gious (nun or sister) in order ~hat th~ income derived from it may wholly or partially supRort her. This i~ the primary purpdse bf the dowry. A'secondary purpose is ~0_prov~ide for her support in the evefit that she should~ return to the world. For this reason the dowry must be o returned .to her if she leaves religion. This secondary pur,- pose will be considered in greater detail later.- Need o~ Dowry/~or,Nuns Since the beginning of the seventeenth century the .Hgly ~See, has required that all 'mdnas(eries of riuns demand,a dowry for both choir nuns and lay sisters. The legislation of the Code is contained in canon 547, § 1 : " 225 . ¯ b~D~/d ~. ELLIS Revie~ ~or ,Religious In the mona~fffr~es of nuns, the .pdsfulanf shall provide $h~. down,. fixe~ by the constitutions or determined by lawful custom. ~ ~ - Therefore, every ~ostul~nt~ in a monastery of nuns must-b?ing a dowry. There is no choice~in the matter. The amount to be provided. ~s 6sually determined~by the c0nsti . . ~tu~ions; but, if the constitutiofis are silent on the subject,~ ~then custom will ~etermine the amount. It is allowed to require a smaller amount from'la~ sisters than. from choir ¯ sisters; but the sum m~st be tbe same ~oc all tile members o~ " the same group. ~ .Wemight mention here ~a~ in this article we are using 226 ~ "the terms order,'congregation, nun, and sister in the ~trictly. tdchnical senses defined in canon 488. An order is an. lnstl:: " tut~ whose members make profession of-solemn vows;ca congrefqtion~is an_institute whose members make profes-~ sion of simple vows only, whether perpetUal or temporary.,~ ~ nun ts a religious woman with solemn vows or whose : . vows are normally solemn, but which, by a disposition tl'ie Holy See, are simple in certain regions--as is the cade with most nuns in the United States. gome monasteries of nuns have a few extern sisters who ¯ take care of the temporal needs of the'nuns and of all con-tarts with~the 6utside world. On' 3uly 16, 1931,. the- Sacred Congregation of Religious issued a set of statut, es for such extern sisters, and thesd statutes are obligatory for all . rrionasteries which have such sisters. Articl 51 Of these statutes reads as foilows: "No dowry is demanded for, e-xtern sisters ;" but-each aspirar~t shall bring ~uch go.ods a~a~l clothing as are prescribed by the" superior of the monasZ - tery. olt is forbidden, therefore, to demand a dowry from- ¯ extern sisters. Should a.candidate, however, freely offer a dowry, it may be accepted; and, if accepted, it will be sub-jecLto all the regulations of 0 the Code regarding the dowry. ,lulg; 194~ ' ~ THEDOWRY OF RELIGIOUS WOM~N ;~-'_ Necessit~l, of Dowr,~t_in Cofigregatiob~ of 8-[stets , ¯ " -Bef6re"the Code: legislation for congregations of ~eli-gious- wom~.n, as cofftrasted:with or_ders ~of nuns was con-~ tained ifi ~the Normae 6f 1901. Articl~ 91 of the Norroae required that every institute, of sisters" with. Simple vows= ~ . must determine the amount of the dowry to be proiridedby bot~ choir and lay sisters. The ~ub~tance of this article was embodied" in the constitutions of all congregations apl~roved by the Holy See before the Code. Exceptions were very rare. ~heCode, however, oleaves everything to the constitutions. " ~-I~n. lnstitut~s with simple vows, th~,prescrlptlo~s of the constitutions "must be ~ollowed wlthd'e~gard to the dowry o~: the rellcjious wom'~en [c~non $471 ~ ~). . . " Itfis~possible, therefore, that some ,congregatiOns o~ religio, us women may not.require a dowry, if there, are no provisions for~ the same in the constitutions. Canon 5#7 -do~s not, strictly speaking, ddmand that a dowry.must be ~p~ovided. As ~ matter offact, howeve~r,.the constitutions of'most congregations ~ppfoved by the Holy See have a provision for a dowry, even though the amoun't may be ,small. - Since the.con~titutiofis, of ttiocesan cqngregatiohs are subject only.to the approval of the Idcal" Ordinaries,-~ moie frequent omission of the dowry is found in them. The rule, therefore, for all"institutes with simple vows; ~,~hether they be approvedby the Holy~.See or by the local "Or.dinary, is to follow whatever is laid down in th~ consti-tutions regardi.ng the dowry. ~ Condonatidn of t~e Dowrg Canon 547, § 4, gives the regulations regarding con- 2donatiqns Or dispensations in regard to the-dowry: "°~ The prescribed=dowry, in tl~e case of [nstltut~s appr~dved by Se~, cannot be°condoned either en÷irely or partially without an indult of the Holy See:~in th~ case of diocesan i_nstitutes, ~¢ithout the~ consent of the 16"cal Ordinary: -'~ - , 227 ADAM "C. E~,LI8. r-.,~-. :~" ~ Review fort Religi6u~ The'.term°'!institute'' ~nclu~des bot~ orders of~nuns arid cofi~gregations b'f sisters. "- It is-evidenl~, therefore, th~t only the Holy _See can condone the-dowry entirely or in "part for an~ofd~r bf nu_n_s, ~ince only the HolyLSee can approve a religious order. "The same restriction-applies a-s well to all. "congr.egations of sisters appro~veffby the Holy See. " - In-the case of a dioce~af~ congregation, ' however, the.- local Ordinary is given the power to condone the dow.r~, in whole or in-part. :., Sometimes the constitution's~ contain a clause grantin-~.~ to the Mother Generaland her cbuncil the power .to con-hOaovne ea nt haecdadoevm~ircy.d, eagtr elee,a~sat itne apcahretr,' si~no fra_vnuorrs eo'fs "p ocsetrttijlfaicnattse ,w-.ohro ~ some similar testimony of special training which Will make .their services more than ordinarily valuable ~ for "the om-. muni~y.-The Sacred Congregation of.Religious allows 'this exception to beowritten into the constitutions- which it approves. The reason for the exception lies ~in the fact ~.th'at such ~candidates .are ~ilre.ady ?ftil,!~r traihed in a professibn which will be of special service to the community; hence the community is saved the expenses ~'that would be invol.ved in xheireducation. Such a degree or certificate is not a -stitt~e fo~a dow~r~', _but rather¯ a-reason for granting a dis-pensatlon'ln fayor bfa candidate v~h0 cannot afford a'mount of the dowry required be the constitutibns.- ' The Code itself grants to the,local Ordinary the to dispense from the dowry in the" case of diocesan congre~ gations, but not in the case~of orders or of c0ngregatioiis/ approved by the Ho!y See. However, by reason of very -special faculties_ (ca)ked qtfinquennial faculties because they"~ mtist be renewed ~very fiv.e years) all .local_Ordinaries in the united States may "diSpense from th~ lack of dowry, ir~. -owh°le or in part, in._ the case. of .nuns .or sisters (of congrega- ._'tions approved by the Holy See) provided that the financial 228 , &ilg,_1944 THE DOWRY OF REEIG~oUS WOMEN~ - ¯ ~ .~ o(onditibn of the institute does~not suffe.r~thereby, and that- ~he applicants h~ve such i:l ~ualifications that they give certain ¯ -~pr.omise 6f,geing of 9rear .service-to° the institute." ~The Apostolic Delegate has still wider faculties "to dispense, ' for a just,~cause, at the request of the community, as regauds the lack. of dowry .required for sisters or nuns in religi.on." °Alocal Ordinary must pass judgment on each case; the ~ _Ap.ost°lic Delegate can give.a ~enera! dispensation for aH cases in. which~ the same condition is fulfilled~ (cf. Kealy, Dowry1 of Women Religious, W~ashington, 1941, page 7'4.) ~ " Ih practice, therefore, it will nor be necessary to apply \. to the H6ty See for a dispensation from ihe dowry; since either the local Ordinary_or'the Apostolid Delegate will _be ~able ~o grant the condonation. , When a dispens~ition is granted unconditi6nalty to a ~po~stulfint who is unable to provide the dowry prescribed by the constitutions, she is tl-iereby freed once and forGll from '--- " thd obligation,even though, l~iter on, she should, come into possession of m~oney or other goods. Hence.some authors ~dvise tha~ the dispensations should be granted conditior~- allg, that is, with the obligation of paying the~dowry later on, if th~ candidate should then be'able to do so. Pa~/ment of Dowrg ~ This dowry must be 9~ven fo the ~'monastery before the' rec~ptlon ~f "~he habit, or at least its payme.r~t guaranteed i.n a manner recognlsed by civil law (canon 547, § 2)." Since~the habit is usually-gi~cen at the beginning of the novitiate, the dowry prescribed by the constitutionsmust .",f-~ be given to the institute before the.beginnin9 of the novi- ~tiate. It must be actually turned over to the monastery, or _-at least:its payment must be guaranteed in such a way that .the paymerit no longer depends on the will and intdrpreta- 229 ~- ADAM C. ELLIS- RevieuJ for Religiou~o~. tion of .the person'°who hai promised to pay it._:'~The form' of the guarantee_ mus-t :'be - on? which is both valid .and enforceable in the civil law. of the p[a~e in which it is made. A simple promise.,based on the good vCill of the person 'making the p?omise is not sufficient,. In cases,in which a guarantee is. given fiefor~ the 'reception of-the habit, the ~.~' dowry itself should be p~a!d before .the novice is permit,ted to pronounce her first vows. If this is not prescribed by the" constitutions, it should be'prox)ided for ifl the document ~hich guarantees the payment of the dowry. " " This canon regarding the time o~f payment applies only to monasteries of 'nuns. In the case of congregations of Women of ~imple vows, the constitutions should, specify,the tirfie. Constitutions approved by the Holy See usu.ally .require that when the dowry is onl~r guaranteed before tile reception of the habit, it should be paid before first pro-_ fession of vows. If the constitutions are silent on this mat-_ 'ter, then in pr~ictice actual payment of' the dowry shouldbe re, quired before profession, in order that the investment of -the capital may be" made ira, mediately after profession, prescribed by canon 549. Con~stitution of the Dotur. y The Amount: In orders of nuns the amount of ~tl~'e" dow_ry usually is a fixed and absolute sum: Since n.un~s are° ~iven to a life of contemplation and are st.rictly cloistered, the am6unt fiked for~ the dowry will be rather large, and should provide an income sufficient to support the nun. Members of religious congregations are usually engaged in active apostdlic works such as teacl~ing~ and nursing, which bring ifi-a certain amount of remuneration. Hence theamount of the dowry is generally much smaller than in ,an order of nuns. For congregations approved b~r the Holy See before the Code, a fixed amount was prescribedin the 230 Jut~/;'l~4"4 TH~ DOWRY OF RELIGIOUS WOM~ - conStituti6ns; T.his fi~ed amount, however, v~iri~d in ea~ch _congregation according to~ the resources and the needs~'c~f the sam~. Because of the upheaval in economic conditions which ~esulted from the first world war,"the SacredCongre-" gation of Religious adoptedShe policy of allowi_ng the gen-eral- ch~ipter t~ determine the amount of the dowry. Hence, constitutions approved within-recent times cont~iin-this ' the profession, of statement: "The aspirant shall bring a dbwry~ the am6unt bf which has been determin~d~ by the general chapter,~ according to localities arid times." Since the general.chap-ter meets periodidall3~,'every three~orfive or,six yea,rs, it may change the,amount of the dowry according to the needs of, tl2e times, raising or lowering it. In a large congregation which has provinces in various countries, it may vary the amount, of the, dowry for the~e different provinces or,court-tries; provided the amount is the same for all postulant.s in any partic'ular province or country. .Unless the constitutions-forbid it, a° post.ulant may give a qa.rger sum as her-dowry "than the amount spe.cified. Si~ould this be done, the total amount given must be sub-ject to the laws of the Code regarding the investment, administration, and t~ra.nsfer of the regular dowry. (~ualit~l: The general rule followed before the Cod~', was tfiatothe dowry had to be giyen in 5cash or money. While~this rule,was not w.ritten i~i any formal documen~t Still .the.diSpensations granted.by the SacredCdngr~gatiofi of Reli,~i0us show that'it was the "accepted customary law. ¯ The Norrna~. of 1901 contain no specific legislation, on.the. subject, and the Code is-silent regarding it. . Commentators on the Code hold widely divergent~ opinions., Some few insist that ¯tile dowry must bepaid.in cash. ~A few others go so far as to allow productive real estat~ to be accepted as dowry, and even to'be retained ~,fter the-religious as the equivalent/of an 231 ~ Reoiew for R~ligious. "- ~i'nvestment. The retention of real estate a'i the:equivalent of an ifivestment does- not seem to be in conformity with the text oLthe Code and the practice of the Sacred Congre-'~ g~tion of Rel.igious. The vast majoril~y allow the dowry. to be made up of money dr its'equivalent, that is, of a.n_y movable capitM, such as stocks and bonds. In practice the following norms maybe safely fol-lowed" ~(1) If the cdnstitutions contain a specific regula-tion regarding the quality of the dowry, it must.be fol-lowed. (2) If there is no specific regulation, then either" money or equixialent securities such as stocks and bonds may be accepted. (3) If the postulant has no money,, but onry real estate, the title to the same should be transferred to the institute, and it should be" kept during the~novitiate. After°the novice, has taken her first vows the real'estate should be sold and the proceeds invested. If the r~al estate can'not be sold for a fair price, the matter.should be referred -~ to the local Ordinary. [nuestment.of Dowry "Since the psimary purpose of the dowry-is,to produce revenue for the support of the religious during her lifetime., it is evident thatit must be invested so as to produce an- After the first profession of the religious, the superioress with her council, and with the consent of the local Ordinary and of ',the Reg'~lar Superior, if the house I~e~dependent on Regulars, must plac_e the ~l,0wry.in a safe, lawful, and productive investment (cahon 549): ~ Time of inuestment: The canon is clear. The dowery is not t6be' invested while the aspirant is making her novi- ~ tiate. It should be put in a bank and the interest accrmng frqm the" deposit should be .given to the novice.If the novice leaves before making her profession, her dowry must be returned, to her. It may be invested only after she has taken her first vows. It should then be invested at once~" .3. [l£1y, 1944 ~ THE DOWitY Ol~ RELIGIOOS WOMEN ' ~., but-& sho~t dela~ ~ma~r-be allowed if there is hopeof getting -'- a Safer orinore profitable in~restment. - " ". . Kind o~: investment: The dowry is to be invested in safe, }awful,. and productive securities. 'We may note-here in pa~sing that_the ti~xt of the authorized English transl.a-tion which we have give.n above is inaccurate. The term "nomina" used in the Latin. text is transla_ted as "invest- - "- m~nt." It is a historical fact that all the preliminary texts "" of°~he Code used the more general term xnvestlmentum, "~ : but in the final text the more specific wo"rd noinraa "¯ Was "~-' ~sUbstituted. This term is,.correctly given in other autho}.- ized transl~ltions as "titoli-securi," ".titres Stirs," and "tit.u.: r~ " " los seguros. The Latin term nomlna, as well as the cot- . rect English equivalent "securities,"; excludes real estate and other immovable goods. The Sacred Congregation of ~" Religious follows.this interpretation in practice. Asa~e investment is one which will not~ in all probabil- .,' "i,ty, lose its val.ue. -Usually the dowry will be .i~vested in ¯ stocks and bonds, of which there exists a gre~t ~rariety. The .~iSrst'obligation of ~uperiors is to choose a safe security, even though_it produ.ces a smaller income than one which is less ~afe. .~. A lawfulqnvestment i's one .which does not violate-any "la~, either ecclesiastical or civil. Canon 142 of. the Cdde forbids clerics and'religious to engage in anjr business or "tra_ding,oeither personally~or through others. Howe~rer,.th,e - common opinion today allow~ them to invest in stocks of ; any lawful commercial or in'dustriai enterprise, provided that they do n~t own or ~ontrol the maj@i,ty of the stock, a~n~,that they take no active partin the management. A productive investment is one which brings returns or yields fruit. The purpose of the dowry is to produc~ i,ncome for tile support of the religious. This purpose. " would not be fulfilled by merely placing the dowry in_a 233' ADAM C. ELLIS "" ~ Review,,for~Religi~us bank for safe k~eeplng. The rat~ o['interest or income paid on ~-tocks and bonds is a variable quantify, and usually in inverse ratio to the safety 6f the investment. extent productivity must be sacrificed in favor of safety, as it is of supreme importance to see that the capital itself is not lost or diminished. ° "Persons'who make ~be investment: various persons are~. mentioned in the canon. For .nuns it will be the superioress of the_monastery; in the case of a congregation it will be the superior general or provinfial according to the constitw tions. The tanon requires that she "discuss the matter of the investment of the dowry with bet council. The text'of the canon-does not state that the~vote of. the council, d~cisive,.but many constitutions add a clause to that effect. In the absence of any such modifying clause, the vote' of the council may be considered a~ consultative only. With the consent of the local Or, dinarg: The ter~ "local Ordinary" indludes the Bishop of the .diocese, his Vicar General, the Administrator of a vacant see, Vicars and Prefects Apostolic in missionary territories. The local Ordinary does riot make. the investment, but merely gtves his consent that it be made after he has satisfied himself that ¯ the investment proposed is safe, lawful, and productive in ac'cordance with the law. And o~ the Regular Superior: Some monasteries of nuns are subject to the supS.riots o£ the first order of inert. "In that case'they must obtain the-consent of the regular supe_rior in addition to that bf l~he local Ordinary. It may be well to,note here that "the same permissions required'bef6re the dowry may be invested by the superior and her council, are also required for euer~ chang~ of inuedt-merit. of the capital of the dowry (canon 533, § 2). -234 Prohibition.to Spend D~owrg o ~ Jt is ~¢rictly forbidden that, before th~ death of the rellg~ous, the . ,, d'uhjfi944 "~ 2"-" . =THE D(~WR~'._. OF RELIGIOUS.W. OMI~N'¯ d~>wr¥ b~ expended for~an'y':purpose,.e~ven ~o.r the ~u~ldin9 of-a house o;~ t_he.llq uldation, of'debts (canon 549)~ . . .o ~ ~ This prohibition ~is undoubtedly a very grave one as_-" ~,a~. be.deduced from canon 2412, 1.°, which orders~the~ 10~al~Ordinary.to punish a religious superior; and even to ;r~move h~r ftotn office under certain circumstances, should; "s~e presume to spend th.e_downes,of 'her subjects cont.rarY~ tc~th;e prescription of canon 549. The building of a b~ous,e and the paymefit of a debt are given by wa_y 9f exahaples to_ exclude all simila_r pretexts. ¯ In case of ]grave necessit.f a ~disEensa.tion may be obtained from ~he Holy See. Such a dispensation will always impose~the obligation of restoring ~the capital of the dowry as soon as possible, as well as the-- obli~gation of givi!ig back ihe,principal of the dbwrY~to the _'°religious who leaves the institute. _. ¯ "~dministr~ation o{ Dowry , ~ ~ .~ Th~ dowries mus~ b~ enrS{ull~ ~nd ~nte~rall¥ administered nt ~he-. ~m~n~$t~r¥ or~llouse ~( hnbffu~l residence ~{ the Mother-~nernl "~ Mo~h~er-Pr~v~n¢inl {¢nnon ~50," § I}. ° - e,_ Administration in general includes" all acts necessar.y ;:~and 6sef.ul foi: the. preservation and improvement oftem'- " poral goods: for fiaakin.gothem. . 15roduc{ive, for collecting the fruits, .and f0~ properly disposing of tl~' income. In t.6.the dowry two points are emphasized: care.arid int.egraI: ity: First of all; the dowry mtist be,invested iia°safe securi ties as We have seen above'.~ ;Then care mustobe"ex'~rcised to guard'against the dan~er ofloss or diminution in:value @anging the investment when securities, become ~anstable-of dangerous. Care also includes the ~ttentive ~ollection 0i~. the income at fixed times. ,The constitutions ng.t 5nfre-.-. --quentin; prescribe details regarding this administration of-the. dowries. Integrillity means compieteness of-ai:lrriinis-~ :tration. Practically, in regard to the dgx~ry,,it means that ,th+~'e~tlre am0unt-of the dow'ry must be .invested, and the, ~/~DAM C. ELLIS ~ " Re~eu~ ~or Religious ~. . ~, :en~tire amount, of the fruits 'or. interest_ be c611e~:ted'. ~ Theplace fo~ th6 administration of:dowries is the mon~ ~ astery in the case. of nuns, t~eho~se ofhabitual residence ~ of the s~perior generaFor provincial in the case of congre: gi~ion~. While the obligationand responsibilityrestg on the~uperior, she need not necessarily administer the dowries ~personally, but she may delegate this duty to som~ 6ther ".prudent an'd experienced religious, such as~ the treasurer g~neral. In all cases a special account Should be-kept o~ the administration of the~dowri~s, distinct, and separate from that of the ~enedal funds of the community." This-is .required for various reasons, not~ th~ least of whic~ is the-report t~ be given at stated ti~es .to ~he local Ordinary.- Administration of dowries singlg or collectively. ~he-dow~ ies may be administered in either of two ways: tb~ first'is to keep each individual doy~y separate, and to inqest it by itself. In case a religious should leave,~the c~pital of her dowry will be retffrned to her in the.condition in wBich~ it is at that time." if it has-increased in value, ,the "gain is~ hers; 'if-it~has decreased, she ~uffers the loss. T~ second method i~ to pool all the. dowries into a7 common, fund, ~nd, then invest thatfund in various kinds of securities: Obviously it would be very'unwise to invest the ~e~tire fund in onl~ one class of securities, because of the- 'danger of grave loss ~n case that particular security should suddenly decrease in value. It is much more prudent to.dis-tribute the capikal in variofis safe, lawful, anff p'r0ductive' s~Curities. There may be. occasional losses, but these, will beieihtively small. If this second method ~f~administra2- ti6n is adopted, the institute assumes the obligation returfiing to a ~relig~us who leaves merely ~the actual,. amount of money .which she originally brought, as dowry; " regardle.ss of loss or gain. in value o.f th~ securities in which it w~ invested: o ~ ~ 236' ";J"u l-~, 1"" 9~4 ~-~ x " " THE ;DOWRY OF R~LIGIOUS WOMEN'" Acquisition of Do~¢~ bq]nst{t~te -~The dowry is irrevocably acqbired, by' ~he monastery or ~he Instlfu~e on ,the death of the religious, even ~hough she had ~ade profession of only tempora~ vows (canon 548).~ " ~e have" seen that dufin~ t~e hov~fiate the dow~y remains ~be p~o~e~ty.of t~e no~ice~ Once,the novice h~ taken'her fi~st vows, the. 0~nership of the d0~ry, passes into the possession of the monastery or institute, not abso-lutely, but c6nditionally. -The condition is that the reli-. gious remain in the institute. During .the lifetime of the religious the income of the dowry goes to the monastery or insti:t~te' ~or her support. After the death of the religious, even though she had made profession of tempdrary vows : Onl.y,~ the ownership of the dowry on th~ part of the insti-tute becomes absolute and the capital may be added.to its general funds. ~n.the case of a novice who is allowed to take ~ows 0n her deathbed before the completion of the novitiate, the dowry does not become the property of the institute after bet death, but must be turned over to her heirs atlaw, ~inte i~this case the dowry never belonged to the institute even conditionally. It is 0nly after the normal professiofi of ~-first vows at, the end of a valid novitiate that the o~nersh~p ~asses conditionally to the institute. Return of Dowr~ to.Tfiose Who Leaoe,~ ,:1~, ~rom wh~ev, r cause,: a pro~#ss~d rdi~ious wi~h eHher kolemn-or simpl~ vows I~aves ~hs Institute, her dbwr~ mus~ b~ returned " We have. seen that the ownership 0f the dowry passes to "the institute c0nditionally on the. day on which the-reli- ~ gious, takes her first tempoyary, vows, Th~ condition is that the reli:gious remain aTmember of the institute. If she l~aves. ~for any cause whatsoever, either voluntarily with a dispen-sation or by' reason of dismissal, her entire dowry re,st be 237 ADAM C. ELLIS ~ ~ ~ Reoieto, /~or Religious restored tO he~, but not the fruits or,income derived there-, . f~om up. to the time of her leaving. Thus ,the secondary purlSose of the dow.r~y ii fulfilled. The Church wish~s that a woman who has spent some years in religion and then returns to the world should have~ the nece.ssary means to ret-urn home safely.and to support herself properly until ~'she "can°re.adjust h~rself in the world and find some means of support. If the religious was received without a'dowry,, -- canon 643 requires that the institute give her a charitable subsidy if she cannot provide for herself out of her ~wia resources: On March 2, 1924, the Sacred Congregatioh of "Religious declared that in a case in ~hi~b the dowry itself is not sufficient for this_ purpose, the institute is bouiad to supply the balance of the amount needed for her safe return _ ho~e ~ind for her supp6rt as ex.plained above. -Occasionally, tl?ough-rarely, the Holy See grants an indult to a profess.ed religious woman to transfer to another instithte. Then canon 551, § 2 is to be fo~llowed: But if, by virtue of ~n ~aposfolic indulf, the professed reli~iofis joins another Institute, the intereston the dowry, during her~ new novitiate, without prejudice to the prescription of canon 570, § I; and, after the ne~;~ ~ profession, the dow.ry itself, must be given to the laffer institute; if the~ relicjious passes to another monastery of the same Order, the dowry is due "~ to it from the day the change.takes place. No further" comment is given on this canon since the case is rare, and should, it arise, a careful study of cano.ns 632-636 will have to be made .regarding .the tra'nsfer to another institute.," . Vigilance Of l~ocal Ordinary The local Ordinaries must diligently see that the dowries of the rell-glou. s are conserved; and they must exact an acco~,nt on the ~ubject, especi.~lly at the pastoral visitation (canon 550, § 2). For every monastery of nun's, even exempt: I. The s,~perior.ess~must fdrnish an account of h~r administration, to be exacted gratuitously once a 238 ' " d~uly, 1944 THE DOWRY OF.RELIGIOUS WOMEN year, or. even-oftenerif th~ constitutionsso prescribe it, to theqocal Ordi-nary, as'well as to the Regular.-Superior, if ~fhe mon~sfery be subject t6~ Regulars (canon 535, § I). ~ "In other institutes of women, fh'~ account of the adminisfration of the property.constituted by the dowries shall be furnished to the local Ordl-nary off the occasion of the Vlsltation, and- even offeher if the Or.d;nary - conside~s if necessa~/(~anon 535, § 2). From these canons it is clear that the .superior "of a mon- -astery ~f nuns must give an annual account of the adminis- °tration of tl~e dowries to the 16cal- Ordinary, , as well as to the regular,superior, if the .monastery be subject to regu-lars. ~The constitutions may prescribe a more frequent accohnt. In the case of congregations of Migious w~m~n, wh~ther dioc~esa~n or approvCd by the Holy See, the account regarding the administration of the'dowries must be giv~en at least every five years on the occasion of the canonical .yis-itation on the part of the l~cal Ordinary. He may demand a more frequent account ~if he deems it necessary. This righ.t of vigilance given to" the lbcal Ordinary authorizes him to see that all the prescriptions of th'¢ law~- are observed in regardt0 the cai~ful administration of ~the .dowries in safe, lawful, and productive ~ecurities; and it includes the r'ight ;o demand an accounting of these fundS, as .explained above. The right of vigilance, however. -should not.be confused with the right of, administration', which ~emains in-the hands Of the religious s~perior. r - 239 The Sacred l-lear!: Program Eugene P. Murphy, S.J. IT ALL began in Golden Pond, .Kentucky, six years ago. -~ .|~ Several families of poor tobacco planters were ~athere_d one Sunday afternoon around t, he auto radio of the local ,. school teacher. They were listening to one of the fi~st -broadcasts of the Sa6red Heart Program, coming to them, from WEW in St. Louis. Missouri. "Listening to ,the Voick of the Ap6stl_eship of Prayer," they enrolled as mem- ~'b~rs o]~ this world-wide organization and became the first of tens of thousands .of radio listeners to join "the St. Louis Center. This was the picturesque beginning of the nation- " : wide Sac~ed 'HeartProgram. Thfs is the only Catholic Da~ily broadcast on the air today and traces it ancestry to a religious program sent out each Sunda) from Station -WEW, beginning April 26, 1"921. In May 1941 this broadcast beg.an~,to ~extend-to all .parts of the."country. Within a year and a half it has added a hundred and thirty-stations tO its lists in the United States, Canada, and the Republic Of Panama.- Behind the'Pr6gram is an effective organiZation_wi£h a central, office in St. Louis and. regional offices in Boston, Los Angeles and Toronto. @he National Director of ~the broad~ aast is the Reverend ~ugene P. Murphy, S.J., who is assisted by, the Reverend George H. Mahowald, S:J.; and the Rev-. ereffd Hugh E. Harkins, S.J., as Associate Directors. The Regional Director fgr New England and A, tlantic Coast 'States is the Reverend Matthew Hale, S.J., with the R4v- ' erend Arthur D. Spearman, S.J., in charge of the West ¯ Coast Office in Los Angeles. The Canadian Director .is tlhe -Reverend E. G. Bartlett, S.J., whose offices are in Toronto. 240 ~,~.-°" . Each morning'in ~hi~ studios 6f WEW" is produced the ~,Dady Fifteen Minui~es. of Thought ~and. Praydf." A pri: rate leased telephone line brings th,e'Program to The "nisonic Recording Laboratories whe~ it is cut into wax,~ :Later these "cut;" are shipped to The Allied Recordings Iric., in Hollywood wher~ theya_re pressed into vinolyte. transcriptidns: ~ These transcriptions are then expressed to-various outlets .of the Program from Newfoundland to. ' AlaSka and. f~om cxnada to Panama. / The purpose ofthe Program is to'promote d'evotion-td- ~ " The.Sac-red Heart among persons of all ages and classes. . Miners, farmers, factory workers, college prgfes~ors, ,busi .nessmen, housewives,, and shut-ins, all derive spirit.uaL "strength from this period of prayer, hymns, anda six,min- ~ :ute conference. Radio station'managers in all parts, oLthe -~' 0 United. States and Canada oha.ye been most enthusiastic in , % their commendation of the broadcast. The value of this broadcast as a force in social structioh, can hardly be over-emphasized. People 6f all. classes who are spiritually. unde.rprivileged,, living, oo.n ~ranches and farms far fr6m church, or in the tenement~ of "~,bu_sy cities, are {grateful for a message of superhatUral, truth coming to them every day by means of radio. It°is a most° _, effective medium for reaching the vast multittides of our ~.'-.n0n:Catholic neighbors who are starving for the realities of~ Faith. Liiteners write in from every state in the' Unior~ in : the Sgme vein as this non-Catholic friend in Wiscoiasin! ;(I , am not of your Faith but cannot tell you,how much spir-it~ al,s.trength I derive from this daily broadcast. ~ May, God prosper your great work," From Nova Scotia comes the_ word,""The Program. has had a great effect on non- ' ~_Catholics herd. Man~ of them are my friends and they', ~'~ ~ha,ve told me how much they enjoy,the sermons." In prac-tically ev, ery mail our Ame~'ican liste'nBrs tell us of the" - 241 EUGENE P. MURP'~IY. " , ¯ " . Reui~o ior ,- e~thusiasm, 6f~ their non-Catholic frie£ds. "Per_hap.s som~,of ~ the.most interestif~g 1.etters A Sister. from Can~ida ¯ [NOTE: Nismber 5 above was actually in the letter. We didn't pu~ there~ED.]~* (Continued from precedirig page) guard against these by taking the/various precautions alread~ indi: ~ III. Local Ordinaries and major religious superiors are urged to take foregoing an_d any bther means they deem necessary to "prev.env abuses and to suppress such abuses, if perchance-they have alrdady Reverend Fathers: " i think that retreat masters tend to be. tob bashful about urging ¯ to high ~erfection. .,. ~- TM ¯ (~ ~As some very~pra~tical subjects for meditations and.'conference.s, I' suggest 'the following: (1) The necessity of truth and' honesty in lout deglings with children and.others, Sisters included. (2), .Avoid '~talki.ng about the character or fatilts of those in'our charge, employees. or children. (3) Secret ambition'for positio°ns of honor--the need b~"sinceri~y rather than policy. (4) The necessity of prayerful !iv.es at all times. (5) Unworldliness a greater esteem for'the things of God rather than for the w~rld. ~(6) Perfection of our ordinary a~fions. (7) Failing t~rough human respect. (8) More meditations on the Passion of our Lord and on our Blessed Mother. A Sister " -2 Reverend Fathers: Instead of the traditional, topics--"The Eternal Truths," Sin, "The~ Vows,'; "Confession,"."Spiritual Exercises," and" so forth .I should lik~ to have a little v~irieiy no~ and'then. F~r instance, the following outline of topi.cs for anS-day retre~it might prove .sug-ge'stive: - I. The Religious Vocation a Call to Sa,nctitg. (1) Sanctity v.~ersus me.d, iocrity. (2) The means to sanctity: vows, rules, imitation of .Christ. -- " II. Supernatural Lioin~. " .(1)-Faith--purit~r of int~ntio~i. (2) Grace--the Christ'-life. (3,) Divine 1dye. (4) The Mystical Bbdy. III. The Will of God. (1) Divine Providence." (2) Abandon- "ment. (3) Obedience. (4) Spiritual childhood--tr~st.-- . IV. The Mass. (1) Its value and importance for rdigious. (2) How to live the Mass. (~3) The spirit of sacrifice--vi(timhood. V. The'Paision of Christ. (1) "Self-crucifixion~mo'rtification and self-abnegation. (2) Patience and genero~sity. (3)TM Love of the Cross. VI. The Blessed Sacrament and the Sacred Heart. (1) Love and "reparatiOn. (2) The liturgy. (3) Zeal for souls. ~-~-VII. Pra~ler: (1) The divine indwelling. (2) Recollection~° interior living. (3) Progress in prayer and divine union, - VIII., Our Blessed~ Mother : (1) Mary's spiritual maternkty '"f(.2) Spiritual motherhood in the life of, religious. (3) Childlike ~OMMUNICATIO~s -" ~ -. ~ Review [o? Religious ._,devotion to Ma~yi "(4) Imitation of her virtues, especially hmnility,~ charityl un~elfishness, and generosity. " -- o A Sister Reverend Fathers: ¯ " When I give a retreat I want my re'treatants_to show that they ar~interes(ed in what I am saying when I give c6nsid~ration's an~b conferences. I ~¢ant them to be wide-awake. I want them to look a~ me a~ I speak to them. I want them to respond tolittle pleas~int_- ries that I~mayintroduce 'from time to time by smiling an'do, even bur~tin~ out into.reverent!y suppressed l;iiighter. Sometimes I get a group of Sisters who are evidently i~redeterthined not to reipond:dn - any wa~r to'~my talk. Th'ere they sit, eyes downcast, featur_es imrgo- ~bile, like so many stathes of saints. ',And.my pleasantries fall Not a facial muscle t.witch~s, not an eyelid is rai~ed. Are they raix.in ecstasy, I wonder, or absorbed in contemplation--or, horrors! are they v;'rapt in slumber,? Whatever it is, it is crushingly hard on n~e. No onelikes'to talk to people who pay nb attention to him and.do not'even look at.him. Retreatants! Be responsive: smil'e when .~0ux are supposed to smile:-laugh~when you are'expected to laugh; weel5" _when you feel like weep{ng! . Agaifi, I want my .retreatants to meditate and a~ply th, ings to -.tbemselves'dur~ing the ball'hour or mgre that I speak to them.After. my talk.all I ask of them is to make a threefold colloquy, each lasting a few minutes and not more than five: one with our Lady, one with oi~r Lbrd,-and one with the heavenly Father. Go to'Mary., let Mary-take'you by ~he.hand and lead you to J+sus, then with Jesus arM~ Mary go to the heavenly Father. And tell each all about my con- _~ sideration and about your affection ~ind resolutions. Then the. ~-i~eriod-of meditation, is oyer! But until~the next meditatioh I wan~ tffem to liv in the atmosphere, so to speak, oof the last meditation, and to scatter ejacu!atory prayers and aspirations up and down -the ~stMrs, along the ha.llways, and s6 forth. When I m_ake.a retreat I want my retreat master, for heaven;s '~ake, to speak loud enough and nbt to ospeak too rapidl.y; and if he put~a~little animation and°some gestures into his discourse i~ wiil be "all the, better.' It does not make a good impression upon me~eithe-r,~ " .by the way, if he comes into the sanctuary and. mt~rfibles some pre-paratory p~ay.er in a'half-hearted and.hasty way. "I expect a good, a~d dev6ut preparator)i'prayer, recited d.istinct!y and ~ith~unetion. July, 1944 ' o ~ - COMMUNICATIONS .o Ag~in,,I wahi my retreat master to give the last medita~ion,'~f-the da.y and big last talk of th~day before supper, so that after the evening recrehtion of those who are not making the retreat we can* have simpiy Benediction as'ihe close of,the day. I am tired by ~hat ' time and wish to retire as.soon as possible after evening prayers. I decidedly do not like another meditation after Benediction,, given by way of points. And most decidedly I d.o not like too have'the retreat master tell us to make our own meditation in the morning, that he will not appear_ for th~it. " I want him to appear and talk longer than ever in the morning. .In fact, .the longer the retreat master talks, the" better ~I. like"it. Never'do I meditate better than °when somOne is .talking on religious topics. Again, ~ want my retreat master to illustrate his considerations ivith many stories, personal experiences in. the realm of souls. A .serious word and then that driven home by a gripping and pertin.ent ~tale: then another serious word and another tale: then a little witti-~ cism to~ bre, ak the tension ~ih! that is, a'retreat master after t~he heart of me'! A Priest ,Revere'nd Fathers: ' How disappointing to be asked to "preach" a retreat! The com-munity is not expected to meditate. The order-of the day includes three conferences, after which all betake themselves to the ordinar'y, ~occupations of the day sewi.ng, letter-writing and so forth; few read sl~iritual books. One meditati0ia is made, for a half hou~ before M~ss, and the retreat master is expected-to make that with the com-re. unity.' No points are given the night before. All that might be done at this meditation, is either to present some truth slowly and simply, in the hope .there might be some heart reaction on the part of some of the members of the community, or make'some,colloquies but loud.o The sisters may possibly be entertained during this half hour. They have not made a meditation. Such retreats cannot bring God's blessing~ on the. community. A Priest ReVerend Fathers: By all means, let us have short,, unread, interesting conferences reiterating the fundamental truths; and do, please include the mys-ticism of the Church. (May I remind your correspondent that the canonization rosters of the Church .list more feminine~ than mascu: -27"3" COMMUNICATIONS line exponents of m~rsticism? ~I have yet to meet a sincere Sister who is "mystified.") But must the banes of thee religious life alw~ays disregarded? For instance, espionage, tale-bearing, prying curiosity coupled with. gossiping which makes community life'unbearable: envy, jealousy,~ambition fo~ power, with r~lUctance tc; give it up ands. return to the ranks: the responsib.ility to keep promises; fhe types bf secrets and the sacredness of confidential and professional informa-tion.~ Many Sisters admit that the only real and~lasting help they froth,the retreat is that received in-the confession~il. °Would it onotASe worthwhile ,to-omit a conference a d~ay in favor of this type of help, either in the confessionai or in individual conferences held in com-fortable sur~roundings? Priests make a practice, of meeting lay folks - in this manner: why should th~ey fear to meet religious? My las.~ suggestion is to have a "Que.stion" or "Suggestion" Box. Many objective difficulties could be cleared up here, thus saving con-fessional time. " A Sister Reverend Fathers: Things I have disliked in retreat masters and have heard~ others say they disliked are: lack if practicality: lack of original orfimagina-tire method of presenting the truths; lack of psychol0gical approach ~o pr6blems:-qdoking on illustrations merely as sources of entertain-merit: a negative attitude towards life; lack of sympathetic under~ stan~ding of retreatants' problems; failure to adapt the accidentals of retreat to spdcific hudiences. Things w~ have liked ar~: an instructive use of illustrations: a striking manner of expression: applicationd that fit the particular grohp making the retreat: good example from the retreat master. A Young Priest ~ UNIFORM VERSION OF MASS The Queen's Work has recently published a new edition of Communit~ "Mass.~ a" ~ gooklet planned for the Dialogue Mass. The text ,of the Ordinary and Canon of the~ Mass conforms to the-new Editors' Standard Text. a uniform version~bf thesd: , .prayers (with standardized pause-marks for Diai~gue Mass) that "is"being,adopted .o by, many publishers of Missals for'the laity. ~ 274 ~ ¯ ORIGEN, HIS LIFE AT ALEXANDRIA. By Ren6 C~diou. Translated from ~ ~he'French by John A. Southwell. Pp. xill St. Louls;~1944. $3.25. The works of (Jrig~n, that many-sided genius, were written for the learned. The same may be said of this masterly ~and"the books he wrote during the first half:century of his vigorous career. Readers in search of another facile bio, graphy of the type so popular, in out'day will discover little to hold their attention~ But"the 0 intellectually m, atu,re, wh9 possess .some knowledge of the history of thought and who desire t~o extend that experience, . will find the bbok of ehgrossing interest.- , , Origen, son of-the martyred St. Leonidas, never ~ealized the supreme ambition of his youth, to die for the faith.- But with a'll the ardor of his restless nature he devoted his life to the intensification of spiritual perfection among the educated Christians of his environ-ment. His early years at Alexandria, the most active intellectual center of his time, coincided with the last" determined efforts of pagan and heretical Gnosticism' to capture the minds of that metropolis. Origen -dreamt.of a Christian gnosiL or higher, esoteric learning, that ,would make the revelation of C_hrist prevail. As head of the famous Acfide-my of Alexandria, the first university of its day, he endeavored to impart an intellectual discipline which would give the educated Chris-tian a purer insight into the natureof God and be the basis of his spiritu'al progress. To.this end he devoted the decades of his brilliant teaching and his monumental labors" in the composing of,hi~ books~ Only late ih life did he come to esteem the value of the piety of th~ 10wly for the spread of God's kingdom. ¯ U, nequipped with a sound philosophy, not always in touch with the mindof_the ChurchFan'd driven forward by his impetuous" genius, he.developed his own method of Scriptural interpretation and built upon it a system of theology that ihspired his pupils but har-bored~ trends of unorthodoxy which eventually led to his condemna-tion by Ecclesiastical authority. ,Many of the aberrations of "Ori-genism" do not reflect his own views, but were tenets formulated by later thinkers of heretical mold who were not evefi his °disciples; hbs- tile to the "restraints imposed b~r Christian Reoieto [or Religious (radition, they, claimed "Or_igen~ ~ho Would have disavowed them- as the champion of their doctrinal extremities. 'Nevertheless ~Origen was unorthodox in more than-one'!1~oint, such a_s the resurrection of the body, the. genesi.s of sin, ahd salvation as the uitimate lot of all. Mhny of his conjectures, thghgh not strictly Heretical, ba;ce always been regarded~in the Church as rash. . The authoroof this book treats ill problem.s which occur in the career and teaching of Origen with great sympathy, but at the same time with 'evident impartiality and thorough Of the works, climaxing in Origen's masterpiece, the De principiis, is penetrating, though not infrequently obscure. On the whole, the clarity and-order which we have come to associate with French authbrship are wanting. o The t_2ranslation i% generall~ good. "Foo often, however, t.he° reader is left in doubt as to the antecedents of personal, proriouns. A few sentences are U-ngrammatical, owing to the absence of words, or the wrong form of words, or defective punctuation. The l~ook is furnished with, a sufficiently complete inde~.--C. VOLLERT, NATIONAL "PATRIOTISM IN PAPAL TEACHING. By fhe Reverend John J. Wrlghf. Pp. liil .q- 358. The Newman Bookshop, Westmins÷er,~M~., 1943. $3.S0. . Iri the intrbduction to this book the author states: "The almost .universal illiteracy, so to speak, exposed, wherever question arises con~- cerni.ng the directives and doctrine of/he Pope on national and inter-naHonal° loyalties amounts to a challenge to Catholic writers "to -~c~uaint themselves more fully °with the papal teachings on these questions," The book might be called ~ monumental attempt to~ furnish the material for dispelling such illi.teracy. Father Wright stiadied the pronouncements of four Popes-- 7Le6 XIII, Pius X. Benedict XV, and Pius XI to.draw from these pronounc,efiaents the papal directives (that is, pastoral guidance specific[problems of patriotism) and the doctrine underlyin~ this guidance (,that is, the papal teaching .on .the virtue~of patriotism itsdlf)~. The author presents his findings in'this large work, divided .into three progressive parts, dealing respectively with the nature of " patriotism, the principal obligations towar~ the fatherland, and-the'~ -need of goi.n~, beyond a merely national 0utlook to build a moral~ 276 o ~internatio-nal order. -The entire study °is directed to: mo~terncondi-tibns and modern problems."~The'- re.~der is impressed with ~the fact ~ tha~t in this complicated modern world,~as in the more simplified world of.former days, the Church still has the recipe for national° anal i~ternational lqa.rmony. ~- ~ _ The book contaihs an impressive list of documents constilted, a lengthy bibliography, and an alphabetical index." Students of national and international

Issue 58.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1999. ; f 0 r relig i ous Christian Heritages and ,Contemporary Living MAY-JUNE 1999 * VOLUME 58 ¯ NUMBER 3 Review for Religioug is a forum for shared reflection on the lived experience of all who J~nd that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are meant to be informative, practical, historical, or inspirational, written from a tbeological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: foppema@slu.edu Manuscripts, books for review, and 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; ~,rashington, D.C. 20017 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN ~5806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1999 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Kathryn Riehards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Heritages and Contemporary Lfiv~ng MAY-JUNE 1999 * VOLUME58 * NUMBER3 contents 230 251 women religious Charism or Deep Story? Towards Understanding Better the 19th-Century Origins of American Women's Congregations Margaret Susan Thompson suggests that emphasis on "charism" may not be helpful in explaining the ,founding experiences of many women's communities in 19th-century America, and identifies some of the reasons why "deep stow" may be a more usable concept. The Need for Self-Criticism: Affirmative Comments Elizabeth McDonough OP suggests that the time has come for United States religious women to initiate some possibly difficult but genuinely constructive self-criticism and some corrective change of course in various aspects of postconciliar renewal. 261 266 women and the church The Annuario Pontificio: The Vatican's "Pontifical Yearbook" and a Recent Editorial Decision Larry N. Lorenzoni SDB updates a bit of history about who are included in the Vatican's "Pontifical Yearbook." Women and Canon Law Joan A. Range ASC investigates the extraordinary recent history of women entering the field of canon law. Review for Religious 286 295 mary Five Faces of Mary Robert P. Maloney CM offers five Marian faces as a way of meditating on the rich, varied tradition surrounding the Virgin Mary. The Temple and the Journeying: Mary of Sorrows Joel Giallanza CSC draws directions for our spiritual life's journey from reflecting on the traditional seven sorrows of Mary. 3O5 314 witnessing Blessed Maria Droste: A Good Shepherd Motif in Sacred Heart Spirituality Juliana Devoy RGS tells the story of Blessed Maria Droste, which gives witness to her vision of God's merciful love reflected in Sacred Heart spirituality. Echoes from My Fifty-sixth Annual Retreat Robert F. Drinan sJ shares reflections on God!s grace stirring thoughts and feelings in a retreat. 228 32O 325 departments Prisms Canonical Counsel: Visitation by External Authorities Book Reviews May-.~une 1999 227- Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. --John 14:9 Wean talk about God in some very un-Christian ways. As we "dress up" God in the various cultural and time-bound categories of our human world, we are inevitably limited, in both our reasoning and our imagining. When we get swept up into a highly intellectualized philosophical approach, we find our-selves projecting a vague abstract and sometimes fright-ening power and a childishly understood world. God without a face. Although Jesus lived within human limitations of time and culture, he dared to speak "with authority" about the reign of God in images and parables that tore down the temple curtain of separation to let people catch some glimpses of God that are new. The synoptic Gospels--Mark, Matthew, and Luke--talk of a celebra-tory invitation to a banquet, of a shepherd doggedly searching out a lost sheep, so that we come to know and relate to God with fresh affective response. But the Gospel of St. John stands out as the Gospel of the God revealed to us by Jesus as "Father." Few are the chapters in John's Gospel that do not have explicit reference to God as Father. The qualities of this Father-God tumble out. This God is the God of life: "Just as the Father who has life sent me and I have life because of the Father." Jn 6:44. This is a God who works: "My Father is at work until now, and I am Review for Religious' at work as well" Jn 5:17. This is a God who teaches: "My doctrine is not my own; it comes from him who sent me" Jn 7:16; "I say only what the Father has taught me" Jn 8:28. This is a God who cultivates growth: "I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine-grower" Jn 15:1. Above all, this God is the one who loves: "The Father loves the Son and has given everything over to him" Jn 3:35; "the one who loves me will be loved by my Father"Jn 14:21. In retreat notes published as a book, The Ignatian Exercises in the Light of St. John, Cardinal Carlo Maria Martini SJ reflects that a way of considering the Fourth Gospel is to see it as a gospel of prayer, It is prayer not just from people responding to Jesus as we do so often in our prayer lives, but prayer also from Jesus to the one he lovingly calls Abba-Father. From Jesus We learn how we are meant to grow in our relationship with God. And so this Gospel, in teaching a way of relating to God for the mature Christian, is paradoxically the Gospel most insistent in remind-ing us that we are still "children" who have--and who need for our very existence--a Father. We are called, in imitation of Jesus, to relate to a God from whom we have everything--all that we are and all that we would call "our own." This is the God that Jesus describes as the One apart from whose words he himself has nothing to say, the God apart from whose works he has no work to do. As Christian evan-gelizers, then, we need to follow the example of Jesus so that what we say flows from our union with this God. As Christian ministers we need to strive that all our deeds and good works flow from the baptismal grace given by God that makes us all very special children, God's sons and daughters. It is from this God we have come--a Source we call by Jesus' word Father-- and it is to this God we direct our whole life as the One we, with John, identify as Love. If we let the words of St. John enter more deeply into our very being, we will find ourselves being shaped and molded by the reality behind our personally limited understandings of God as Father and God as Love. This is the revealed God of Scripture we seek to know and make known ever better in this year dedi-cated to God the Father. David L. Fleming SJ '229 May-June 1999 MARGARET SUSAN THOMPSON Charism or Deep Story? Towards Understanding Bett@r the 19th-Century Origins of American Women's Congregatigns Since the Second Vatican Council, the term charism increasingly has become associated with the identity, and .even the integrity, of religious congregations.1 Literally dozens of published essays explore the term's meaning and significance~ A substantial number of the community websites created in recent years contain a page about-- or at least an allusion to--the group's "charism," as do postconciliar constitutions, mission statements, and voca-tion paraphernalia. The hierarchy of the Catholic Church has not been silent either, particularly during the current papacy. For example, in its 1983 document "Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religious Life 'as Applied to Institutes Dedicated to Works of the Apostolate," the Sacred ~Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes used ~the term ten times, and it shows up a whopping eighty-six times in//Tta con-secrata, John Paul II's apostolic letter in response to the 1994 Synod on Religious Life. . Ironically, the word itself is not: to be found in Perfectae caritatis, the council document which treats the Margaret Susan Thompson PhD has written and lectured extensively on the history of women religious in the United States. She is associate professor of history and political sci-ence at Syracuse University; Department of History; 145 Eggers Hall; Syracuse, New York 13244. Review for Religious "Adaptation and Renewal of Religious Life." In fact, its first appearance in a magisterial treatise seems to be in 1971's Evangelica testificatio. Addressing religious themselves, Paul vI speaks of the "charisms of your founders" and the "charisms of the various insti-tutes" (§§11, 32), assuming, probably with justification, that the terminology would be familiar to his intended audience. But, for those in doubt about this nomenclature, Paul cites Perfectae cari-tatis §2b, which calls upon members of religious institutes to respect their "particular characteristics and work" and "their founders' spirit and special aims" as they proceed with their groups' renewal. Paul extends the discussion in Mutuae relationes (1978), using the term nineteen times and declaring, among other things, that "the very charism of the founders (Evangelii nuntiandi, §I 1) appears as an 'experience of the Spirit'" and that "every authentic charism implies a certain element of genuine originality and of special initiative for the spiritual life of the church" (§12). By now, therefore, one would assume that the meaning of a term so widely and authoritatively used would be clear, and one might also assume that the reality of the thing known as "charism" would be easily identifiable and inherent to religious life. Indeed, this seems to be implicit in various references from the two doc-uments of the current pontificate mentioned above. The first para-graph of "Essential Elements" refers to "the founding charism of a particular institute" and later even says that, through its appro-bation of a community's canonical status, the "God-given ministry of the hierarchy" has ratified the "authentic discernment of its founding charism" (§41):2 The references in Vita consecrata are too numerous even to summarize, but here are a few of them: "charisms proper to the various institutes," "fidelity to the found-ing charism," "[an institute's] Rule and constitutions [are approved] in accordance with a specific charism confirmed by the church," and "the uniqueness of their different ~harisms' (§§19, 36, 37, 53). Surely, then, "charigm" is intrinsic to religious life. Every con-gregation must have one, unique to that particular institute and traceable directly to its individual founder., But the rationale for this essay is precisely that none of the assumptions above seems necessarily to be the case. It is my con-tention that, in much of its current usage, charism is a term of such vagueness and ambiguity as to be almost meaningless. More impor-tantly, even if we can accept the connotations that John Paul II apparently regards as definitive (and he is hardly alone in this atti- May-~tune 1999 -231 . Thompson ¯ Charism or Deep Story? tude), I would argue that a good many of the women's apostolic congregations that ministered in the 19th and early 20th century in the United States have no such thing as a "charism" according to this understanding. Thus, if, as John Paul II suggests, "charism" is an "essential element" of religious life, the very legitimacy of these congregations seems to be east into question--surely a seri-ous, perhaps even disastrous, consequence for the groups involved. What is needed, therefore, is some alternative to charism, some concept that is more in accord with the historical reality of many institutes and legitimates their experience and continued existence. It is unlikely that my consideration here will arrive at any defini-tive conclusions, but I hope to suggest some alternative ways of thinking that may prove useful in framing the historical and cur-rent context of sisters' experiences and perhaps assist in the pro-cess of religious revitalization and renewal. At the very least, from my ongoing research into women's religious life in the 19th-cen-tury United States, I think I can explain why the emphasis on "charism" in contemporary thinking about religious life is prob-lematic and historically unjustified, at least as a universal norm. Before we proceed, a few assumptions need to be made explicit. First, I believe that some congregations do have a charism and that in some cases it is traceable, at least in some degree, to an individual "founder." In other instances, its origin may lie with a founding group of individuals (a "founding generation"), while in still others a charism may have emerged later in a community's history--or a buried, neglected, or even repudiated charism may be discerned or refurbished by subsequent generations. Second-- and in this I am confirmed by the usages of several scholars as well as by both Paul vI and John Paul II--I believe there is also some-thing generic that can be called "a charism of apostolic religious life." Third, the lack of a particular charism does not render an institute (or its members or ministries) less significant, "spiritual," or legitimate than those which do have such a "gift":--just as the existence of one does not indicate superiority or greater validity. Indeed, given that the use of the term charism in connection with religious life is of such recent provenance, its application to past experience--particularly if it is considered to be some sort of uni-versal norm--actually may be ahistorically anachronistic. The word charism, of course, is Greek and means "gift." In contemporary Christian usage, it refers specifically to a spiritual gift, that is, "a free gift of grace." Moreover, virtually all Catholic Review for Religious scholars agree that a charism is not solely for the benefit of its direct recipient; rather, "it is a supernatural gift bestowed by the Holy Spirit for building up the body of Christ" or, in simpler terms, a "divine spiritual gift to individuals or groups for the build-ing up of the community." Within the context of religious life, the charism presumably is received initially by an institute's founder, who transmits it on to her followers. It is this "gift of grace" which is to imbue the community with its unique character or identity; as Richard McBrien puts it, "the unique gift of the founder., is given to every member from one generation to the next."3 Between 1727 and 1917, at least 422 Catholic apostolic con-gregations of women religious were active within the United States.4 Some were short-lived, but four hundred of them contin-ued to exist in 1917, and the overwhelming majority are extant today. Of the 422, a total of 273 belonged to one of ten large reli-gious "families," each of which could trace its birth to a particu-lar founder or pair of founders (see Table 1). Thus, each of these could be presumed to be a beneficiary of the. "charism" of the per-son or persons with whom that family began. Moreover, many of these groups also regard themselves as having their own particular founders, who "re-visioned" the familial identity in some way that imparted a special or distinct character to it.s Table 1 U.S. Al~ostolic Women's Communities andTheir Religious "Families" . FAMILY FOUNDER(S) NO. OF COMMUNITIES Benedictine Benedict, Scholastica 32 Carmelite (reform) Teresa of Avila 3 Dominican Dominic 30 Franciscan Francis 54 St. Joseph Jean Pierre Medaille 27 Mercy Catherine McAuley 65 Presentation Nano Nagle 7 Ursuline Angela Merici 30 Vincentian Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marfllac 10 Visitation Francis de Sales and Jane Frances de Chantal 15 May-June 1999 233 Thompson ¯ Charism or Deep Story? No one can or will deny that these communities have---since their founding, in most cases--been known by one of these "fam-ily names." Still, this begs some important questions. How many of even these congregations can be said to have been "birthed" into the charism of their family forebears? How many incorpo-rated themselves into a particular family with explicit awareness of the spiritual and ecclesial consequences? How many can assert with confidence that their history is one of explicit and consistent acknowledgment of and fidelity to that charism? In other words, to what extent did "charism" traditionally play a part in shaping the identities of at least some of these institutes? Alternatively, how many of them became, in fact, "generic" apostolic entities doing good work, composed of good (even holy) people, but ~undistin-guished by any familial or "particular" spiritual identity that would differentiate them clearly from others of theoburgeoning number of women's religious orders that came increasingly to "do their thing" in the United States in, the 19th and 20th centuries? Finally, most of the nearly one hundred fifty other women's congregations I have studied also assert that they have particular "founders' charisms." Are all of them justified in their claims? It naturally is impossible to provide in one article definitive answers to any of these questions. Instead, I intend to offer some representative examples from the histories of the communities I have studied, examples that I believe will demonstrate some of the major problems with the assumptions about charism that charac-terize so much of what has been said about religious life in the past quarter century. Let me emphasize thavnone of these exam-ples is unique; rather, each is suggestive of all-too-typical congre-gational experiences. Each indicates some aspect of why I believe that the notion of a "founder's?' or "founding" charism is so prob-lematic and why the notion may, in fact, do more to obscure the realities of women's religious history than to illumine it. The Most Common Scenario: Instrumentalism Throughout the 19th and early 20th centuries, the Catholic population of the United States exploded. As early as 1850, Catholics constituted the largest single body of believers in the nation, a ranking they have maintained ever since. But, hardly monolithic, they consisted of an ecer growing number of proudly distinct (and sometimes mutually antagonistic) ethnic groups, many Review for Religious of which came to the New World specifically to escape religious persecution or to preserve their cultural identities. Most were poor when they arrived in their new nation; few except the Irish spoke English. Their secular and Protestant neighbors greeted them with suspicion and often with overt hostility. Clearly, these were peo-ple with numerous and diverse needs to be met, and church lead-ers, beleaguered and fearful of "leakage" from the faith, sought ways to respond effectively. It is not surprising, therefore, that dozens of institutes were started in or brought to the United States to provide practical ser-vices, often to specific subgroups of Catl~olics. Both individual community histories by the score and various more com-prehensive works attest con-vincipgly-- and, before 1965, unapologetically--to what I call the instrumental motivation for so many foundations: to teach the ever growing number of school-age children,6 to provide healthcareand relief (primarily, of course, but not only to Catholics), and, increasingly, to work with persons from partic-ular immigrant groups who needed ministers who understood both their languages and their traditions and could both foster cultural survival and ease the pro-cess of Americanization. Others were started for equally functional purposes: to do housework for priests or to offer catechetical instruction to children outside the parochial schools. Consider, for instance, the following accounts of foundings, taken almost randomly from the 1964 edition of Thomas McCarthy's Guide to the Catholic Sisterhoods of the United States-- perhaps the most successful comprehensive "vocation book" ever published in this country:7 [Sisters of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin:] A school, but no teachers, and none to be had from any religious commu-nity in spite of numerous requests by Father Jean Harper. ¯. He decided to act upon his curate's suggestion: "We can-not obtain nuns? Then, let us make some!" And so the con-gregation came into existence . . (p. 192). Dozens of institutes were started in or brought to the United States to provide practical services, often to specific subgroups of Catholics. 235--- May-~une 1999 Thompson * Charism or Deep Story? [Franciscans of Tiffin, Ohio:] Father Joseph L. Bihn . . . founded this Franciscan community to help him care for the many children orphaned as a result of the Civil War. Three of his parishioners, Elizabeth Schaeffer, a widow, and her two daughters, formed the nucleus of this congregation. (p. 271). [Sisters of Sts. Cyril ahd Methodius:] The early 1900s was a critical period for the many immigrants from Slovakia who setded in the United States. Father Matthew Jankola of the Scranton diocese was keenly aware that this adjustment required not only the building of schools but also of secur-ing sisters to staff them. As a result of his efforts, this dioce-san congregation was established in 1900 (p. 189). [Sisters of the Holy Family, San Francisco, California:] "I have another work for you to do," Archbishop Joseph S. Alemany OP said to young Elizabeth Armer when she came to consult him about entering a contemplative order. The archbishop unfolded to the future Mother Dolores his plans for an insti-tute to give religious instruction to children who could not attend Catholic schools. (p. 295). [Little Daughters of St. Joseph:] Father Antoine Mercier, a Sulpician priest., who desired to establish a congregation of nuns who would consecrate themselves to the spiritual and material welfare of the clergy and seminarians, founded this community with the assistance of Miss de Lima Dauth, the co-foundress. On April 26, 1857, both began this eminently apostolic work of helping priests and seminarians by means of a life of prayer, self-denial, and manual labor (p. 36). [Sisters of Charity of the Incarnate Word, Houston, Texas:] "A multitude of sick and infirm seeks relief at your hands" was the irresistible plea of Rt. Rev. C.M. Dubuis when he went to France to seek volunteers to help him in his missionary labors in Galveston, Texas. Three young women answered his appeal and with these he founded the congregation in 1866. The community, which built the first Catholic hospital in the state, has papal approval and conducts twenty-six insti-tutions. (p. 120). 236 Where, in any of these stories, can one discern a charism? Ministry, yes; inspiring service to needy people, certainly. But two obstacles to discerning a "charism of the founder" recur in each instance. First, the reason each community came into being was functional, not charismatic. And, second, at least as these accounts would have it, the initiating impulse came not from the women who would offer to respond, but from clerics--men who, by def- Review for Religious inition, were persons outside of the community itself and thus hard to recognize as part of the group's intrinsic "lived tradition.''s Random Rule Selection and the Problem of Charism Every autonomous congregation has its own constitution, but, properly speaking, only four Rules (St. Basil, St. Augustine, St. Benedict, and St. Francis) were approved by Rome, and every com-munity had to select one of these as the basis for its organization and gov-ernance. 9 This helps to explain, for example, why so many women's con-gregations belonged to the Franciscan "family"--generally speaking, it was considered the most "flexible" of the four and therefore the easiest to adapt to a variety of instrumental purposes. To assume, then, that every commu-nity designated as "Franciscan" also and intentionally embodied a Franciscan charism requires an enor-mous leap of faith; in fact, even some founders who wanted to be "Franciscan" sometimes began by organizing themselves by another Rule. Two contrasting examples will illustrate the problem. First, there is that of the Sisters of St. Francis of Perpetual Adoration, originally founded in Olpe, Westphalia, in 1859 (and eventually established in the U.S. in 1875). The founder, Mother Mary Theresia (Aline) Bonzel, had great devotion to St. Francis and wanted to be Franciscan, but one of her co-founders, Clara Pfaender, had previously belonged to a con-gregation which followed the Augustinian Rule. We may let the community's first historian, an unusually forthright individual, take the story from there: Aline Bonzel wanted the Franciscan Rule by all means. But seemingly she was not well acquainted with the basic Rule of religious orders . Clara Pfaender knew the Augustinian Rule from her convent days with the Sisters of Christian Charity. She felt she could write a constitution based on that Rule. Since she was the superior and responsible for admit-ting candidates into the community, it s~emed advisable, in this very beginning, that she have the liberty to employ her To assume that every community designated as "Franciscan" also and intentionally embodied a Franciscan charism requires an enormous leap of faith. 237 May-June 1999 Thompson ¯ Charism or Deep Story? full experience in religious life. Only on this basis can one explain how a community which uniformly desired to live according to the Franciscan Rule began with the Augustinian Rule, but with the intention of later converting to the Franciscan Rule. In this procedure the character of the times can readily be detec(ed. Many most likely saw basically lit-de difference whether one lived according to the Augustinian or the Franciscan Rule. The development of a specialized spirituality came later and in many instances vqry much later. As this author put it elsewhere: So many religious congregations came into being in the 19th century, and many chose their Rule by chance. Charitable activity called, and congregations were founded to fill the need to serve God and man. With some it seemingly made no difference what religious Rule was followed, for all were good and sanctifying~ . . . Foundations flourished which at first simpl); set up the aciivities and objectives of the apos-tolate and later wrote the rule and constitutions. Often enough at the very beginning it was purely accidental rather than a conscious effort that one or the other rule took hold.l° Contrast this with the experienqe of the Sisters of St. Joseph of the Third Order of St. Francis (SSJ-TOSF). Their history has been recounted superbly in two volumes by Josephine Marie Peplinski; basically, the group owed its origins to ethnic conflict within the School Sisters of St. Francis. The School Sisters were predominantly German, and the founding SSJ-TOSFs were Polish members who, after many incidents distressing to them, decided in 1901 to break off and found their own congregation. They took the Rule and name of "Franciscan" with them, but their self-claimed identity was fundamentally Polish. Indeed, as Peplinski has docu-mented, part of the problem was that, for its first few decades of existence, the community's leadership was passed back and forth between two very different individuals, one of whom (Mother Mary F~licia Jasku, lski) had a real devotion to St. Francis, while the other (Mother Mary Boleslaus Rybicki) "moved the congre-gation toward a popular Jesuit interpretation of obedience and authority--military in tone." As Peplinski puts it, "She exerted great influence in developing the spirituality of the congregation throughout her lifetime . . . and afterwards through those who adopted her ideals. It is ~v0rthy to note that until 1940, fourteen years after Mother Mary Boleslaus's death, almost all of the retreat masters invited to th~ congregation were Jesuits." Peplinski describes tlie congregation during its first sixty years as a Review for Religious "Franciscan sisterhood adapted to the post-Tridentine paradigm of religious life serving the American immigrant church . A basic problem was that canon law rather than the gospel law of love was set up as the ideal." In fact, not until after Vatican II, under Peplinsld's own leadership (she led the congregation 1968-1976), did the SSJ-TOSFs make a concerted and systematic effort to dis-cover what "bein~ Franciscan:' was all about. But, while they in fact embrace a Franciscan spirituality as they enter into their sec-ond century, is it at all accurate, despite their name, to regard it as their "founding charism"?II What Happened to the Benedictines? .Peplinski's congregation was not the only one "adapted to the post-Tridentine paradigm of religious life serving the American immigrant church." What happened to the Benedictines was equally dramatic and potentially of even more profound conse-quence to what they were supposed to be all about. It is a com-plicated story, ably told from somewhat different perspectives by Judith Sutera, M. Incarnata Girgen, and Ephrem Hollermann.12 The first nuns came to St. Marys, Pennsylvania, in 1852 from Eichst~itt, Bavaria, where they had lived in a way that permitted full cenobitic, monastic observance, including recitation of the Divine Office and solemn vows according to the Benedictine formulary: stability, conversatio ("conversion of life"), and obedience, However, within less than ten years after their arrival in the United States, a complicated series of events ensued, resulting in fundamental alterations to their tradition. Stated simply, the right to take solemn vows was abrogated (because the women were unable to observe strict enclosure), pressures of "life in mission territory" (as well as the elimination of solemn vows) led to "permission" to miti-gate the requirement to recite the full Divine Office (allowing substitution of the Little Office of th~ Blessed Virgin Mary, parts only of the Divine Office, or ~ven rosaries and other devotional practices), the jurisdiction of community leaders was made sec-ondary to that of diocesan, bishops (who could, among other things, approve or reject the election of prioresses and the admission of new members--something unheard of, normally, in Benedictinism). Even the simple vows the women now professed wer~ not neces-sarily the Benedictine ones. As Sutera explains, some took the tra-ditional vows, some took the three vows common to other May-June 1999 Thompson ¯ Charism or Deep Story? communities (poverty, chastity, obedience), Others took five vows and some four (not stability, because there were rumors that the women were to be reorganized into a large congregation complete with provinces, regional novitiates, and so forth). She summarizes the consequences this way: "What Rome had done was to create a canonical anomaly, a group of unenclosed monastic women who retained the right to the designation of 'O.S.B.' This right implied some recognition that they were nuns of the ancient order rather than sisters of a later congregation despite their simple vows. However, it left them as technically neither one nor the other. [Practically speaking,] they faded into the mass of apostolic orders." 13 Sutera and Hollermann's books, especially, are potent wit-nesses to the extent to which American Benedictines struggled over the following century both to respond 'to the ministerial and apostolic demands placed upon them and to remain as faithful as they could to their Benedictine heritage. Both accounts verify the existence and persistence of Benedictine charism, however "re-visioned" in the American context, despite the many and substan-tial obstacles put in the sisters' way. Thus, when Vatican II came along, with its call for renewal in the spirit of the founders, the Benedictines had a strong foundation on which they could rely. Nonetheless, the disparate experiences of the various autonomous foundations during the years between their foremothers' arrival in the U.S. and the postconciliar period raise important questions about how, and the extent to which, "fidelity to charism" shaped the historical reality of American Benedictine sisters. If one reads the descriptions of them in McCarthy's 1964 compendium, for instance, they seem virtually indistinguishable from the plethora of apostolic institutes that surrounded them.14 "Charisms" Buried, Repudiated, or Denied At least the Benedictines had a strong tradition, never com-pletely lost, that they could revitalize when called to do so by the Second Vatican Council, Others, however, were not so fortunate, The situations of those who chose their traditions randomly, or who were founded for largely instrumental purposes, have already been discussed. But what about those who did have more charismatic founders, whose legacies, for various reasons, were obscured or even rejected? Probably the most famous such case is that of the Institute Review for Religious of the Blessed Virgin Mary, founded by the remarkable Mary Ward in 1609; not until the papacy of Pius XI! were they able to claim her officially as the founder of their congregation. But other instances pertain more directly to the U.S. Catholic experience; here I will refer to just three of them (by no means the only ones). As late as McCarthy's 1964 Guide (p. 317), the sisters founded by Margaret Anna Cusack in 1884 were identified unqualifiedly as the "Sisters of St. Joseph of Newark" and were described as having been founded by "Bishop Bagshawe of Nottingham, England . . . in 1888." Then, we are told, Bishop Michael Wigger of Newark, New Jersey, "received the community into his dio-cese shortly after its establish-ment." The latter sentence, technically, is true, but the foundation was in 1884; by 1888 the controversial Cusack had left both Newark and the Catholic Church. The myth of Bagshawe's role, as well as the rather skewed chronology, evolved largely to bury the fact that this group's founder--a woman who did, I believe, have a charism and who had a very revolutionary vision for her community--was regarded at the time of her death as an "apostate." Dorothy Vidulich has provided a first-rate account of how Cusack's community rediscovered her in the aftermath of Vatican II, officially reclaiming her in 1970 as their founder and reclaiming, too, her original name for the congregation: the Sisters of St. Joseph of Peace. Since then, the group has devoted enormous effort to uncovering and taking ownership of her and their charism; nonetheless, the fact that her very connection with the institute was buried for eighty-five years (starting less than four years after it began) makes it difficult to discern the extent to which her charism ever played a meaningful role in its earlier historical expe-rience. Is the identity of this community primarily traceable to Cusack? Or, like an adopted child, must this group, like it or not, acknowledge that other "parents" may actually have been more significant in shaping their ongoing lived reality? 15 American Benedictines struggled both to respond to the ministerial and apostolic demands placed upon them and to remain as faithful as they could to their Benedictine heritage. May-June 1999 Thompson ¯ Charism or Deep Story? Which person or persons must be acknowledged as having contributed-- and how--to the congregation's actual history ? The founder of the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, of Monroe, Michigan, was never, stricdy speaking, denied; her central role in the congregation's founding was, how.ever, unde-niably minimized and obscured. Theresa Maxis Duchemin was the offspring of an unwed "woman of color." Both her "race" (her mother was an immigrant to the U.S. from what now is known as Haiti) and her "illegitimate" parentage were, of course, problem-atic. So was the fact that she obscured both of them when she came to Michigan in 1845 to found the congregation ("passing" as "white")--in doing so, she left the commu- 'nity she had belonged to since 1829, the Oblate Sisters of Providence. (This group was the first African American con-gregation in the history of Catholicism. Duchemin was one of its first ,four members, its only American-born founder, and was onetime superior gen-eral of it. In the 1830s her mother, too, joined the community.) What perhaps contributed most, however, towards her role in Monroe IHM history becoming "shadowy" were her ongoing con-flict with Edward Joos (an early spiritual father assigned to the congregation by the bishop), her decision to establish a foundation in Pennsylvania (which the bishop did not approve of, and which soon turned into two), her subsequent conflicts with the .authori-tarian bishop of Philadelphia who succeeded Duchemin's beloved John Neumann, and tier resultant eighteen years of exile in Canada, during which she was forbidden contact with any of the three IHM communities she had founded. Eventually Duchemin was allowed to return to the Philadelphia foundation; ironically, however, only the Scranton one has always acknowledged her role in its begin-nings, In Monroe, meanwhile, Mother Mary Joseph Walker, who succeeded Duchemin as superior in 1859, was becoming regarded as the group's "true foundress," while Joos, who served 'as its eccle-siastical superior from 1857 to 1901, was referred to as the "beloved father." 16 How is a grouplike this to return to the "charism of the founder"? Even in the 1990s the Monroe community is ambivalent Review for Religions as to how it should refer to Duchemin: was she their "founder," their "co-founder" (along with Louis Gillet, the Redemptorist who called her to Michigan in 1845 and departed' abruptly two years later), or simply one of the "first four"? What about the "found-ing" and "formative" roles of Walker and, especially, Joos? At the time of the latter's death, his loss was apparently considered so traumatic that the then general superior "had to assure the sisters that it was possible for the congregation to continue without him." True, Margaret Brennan IHM has documented the persistence of certain very specific elements of Duchemin's spiritual legacy, even through the decades when her contribution was denied, but impor-tant questions still remain.~7 As with the Sisters of St. Joseph of Peace, which person or persons must be acknowledged as having contributed--and how--to the congregation's actual history? "The Most Reverend Archbishop William Gross CSSR of Oregon City founded [the Sisters of St. Mary of Oregon] in Sublimity, Oregon, in 1886 . A vastly scattered flock, with . only a few religious to care for them, made Archbishop Gross determined to establish his own community of sisters."18 It seems a typical 19th-century story; unfortunately, it has almost no basis in reality. The real root of this community is a group of lay peo-ple who more than a decade earlier followed a schismatic priest of the Congregation of the Precious Blood, Charle~ Albrecht, out of Ohio into exile in Wisconsin and Minnesota (where Albrecht died) and then moved (with Albrecht's body) on to rural Oregon. There a young,girl in the group--who had been "bequeathed" to the cultish "trusteeship" of a trio of laymen ("devotees" of Albrecht, whose body during many months after his death,was kept in a cof-fin mounted above the dining table in the group's community room in Minnesota and then, quite ossified, was transported illegally to Oregon)--sought help from some Benedictine monks of Mount Angel Abbey, who put the future Mother Wilhelmina Bleily in touch with Gross, who eventually "regularized" the status of those who sought it and provided official recognition for the "sisters." Shortly thereafter he deposed Wilhelmina from the superiorship to which she had been duly elected, brought in a sister from Wisconsin to provide "formation" for the. community, and reshaped its identity completely. Although the original sisters had retained a strong devotion to the Precious Blood from their Ohio heritage, for instance, Gross refused to allow them to include this in the name of their congregation. By the 1960s, after decades of denial, May-June 1999 9A2 Thompson * Charism or Deep Story? Inappropriate reliance for spiritual grounding upon "a" founder and her or his significance can lead to a spirituality that is static or reactionary. Wilhelmina's contributions had been forgotten (and her diary, which recorded all that had happened, both before 1886 and after, lay gathering dust in the community's attic, not to be rediscov-ered until a new motherhouse was constructed in the 1970s), and the only things that remained from their roots were a red cord (on which they wore a crucifix around their necks) and a vague acknowledgment of a "devotion to the Precious Blood," one among many devotions that had been accepted without explanation for several generations29 More than either of the other two groups dis-cussed. here, the SSMO's decision to bury its past (not to mention Albrecht's body) certainly is understandable. It is also under-standable that, because of their "rescue" from the "trustees" by Gross, this really rather remark-able group has always prided itself on its loyalty to and reverence for the hierarchy. But how to imple-ment that loyalty whe, n the hier-archy charges one with "restoring the founder's charism"? In this case, what are they to do with Albrecht, with the trustees, with years of schismatic and extremely odd cultic spirituality, with the deposing of Wilhelmina, and with the clearly subordinate status that "in gratitude" the SSMOs were expected to tolerate in the Portland Archdiocese for most of the yea.rs of their existence? In this paper I have offered reasons why emphasis on the founder's charism--which has characterized so much of post- Vatican II religious renewal--deserves reexamination regarding its relevance and utility to the histories (and subsequent revitaliza-tions) of many religious congregations. Clearly, in many cases it is not something that can be easily identified, and, in some cases where it can be, that very recognition leads to problems of a dif-ferent sort. I could have discussed other issues as well: that certain congregations owe their origins to groups rather than to individ-uals, that emphasis on "formal" founders (founders who have offi-cial canonical recognition from the [male] prelates charged with 9rid "verifying" the "authenticity" of a congregation, and many of Review for Religiotts whom, for women's congregations, have erroneously been identi-fied as men) tends to obscure the cumulative and ongoing respon-sibilities that all community members have for their collective spirituality, and that inappropriate reliance for spiritual grounding upon "a" founder and her or his significance can lead to a spiritu-ality that is static or reactionary. All of these matters deserve explo-ration; unfortunately, constraints of space in the present circumstances prevent their serious consideration here. What I do offer for present consideration is an alternative approach to "charism" that may prove of value to communities that recognize some of their own histories in what I have been able to include in this essay. It is developed most fully, perhaps, in a 1989 article in Review for Religious by Bernard Lee SM.2° Lee begins with a clear assertion: The "recovery of charism" may be one of the most unsup-portable and unnecessary burdens a religious institution has ever been asked to bear, because it cannot be done. Charism is not a property. It is not a possession. It is not transfer-able, not transmittable, and not controllable. Charism is a deeply historicized social phenomenon. It cannot be dupli-cated in any other time or place. Charism has never been a movable feast. (p. 124) Instead, Lee suggests the notion of "deep story" as an alter-native to the emphasis on charism. He defines this as a category of interpretation that comes out of structuralism, which is a method for interpreting group identity. It pre-supposes that group identity is rooted in a narrative structure, that is, in recurring patterns of relationships and social activ-ities. The narrative structure of any complex and interesting group, however, is extremely elusive because it is instinctual and unconscious even more than it is deliberate and self-conscious . Deep stories are exhibited in rituals that cel-ebrate them (for example, rituals of profession), in special words and phrases that belong especially to them. Stephen Crites says that all of these things are elusive expressions of deep stories (he calls them sacred stories) "that cannot fully be told, because they live, so to speak, in the arms and legs and bellies of the celebrants. These stories lie too deep in the consciousness of a people to be directly told: they form con-sciousness rather than being among the objects of which it is directly aware." (p. 126)z' What Lee intends to suggest by all this, I think, is the con-tinuous and cumulative process of a community's identity forma- Thompson ¯ Charism or Deep Story? tion--its spiritual nature (my term), its history--which, of course, in sacred time and space, encompasses the present and future as much as the past. Thus, to turn to Lee once again, "the founder's or foundress's gift is not a community's charism. The real found-ing gift is a narrative structure that supported and reflected a charismatic event in the foundation's birth, and may do so again" (p. 129). But, as I understand this, it cannot remain static; instead, a "community of memory"--while "creatively rooted" in, or faith-ful to, its deep story--must always be on its way to the realization of a new charismatically gifted reality, one in which all members must participate and assume responsibility. I believe that the notion of deep story--as a paradigm--can help all of us cope with ongoing foundings and refoundings in religious life. Seen as participants in deep story, Wilhelmina Bleily, Charles Albrecht, and William Gross, Theresa Maxis Duchemin and Mary Joseph Walker and Edward Joos, Mary Felicia Jaskulski and Mary Boleslaus Rybicki, Margaret Anna Cusack, Theresia Bonzel, and Clara Pfaender, countless Benedictines, and tens of thousands of others, living and dead, can all find space and be "at home'--not comfortably, perhaps, or e~sily, but the Christian story, the deep story, is never easy or comfortable. It is, however, real, as real as the ongoing spiritual "gift" (dare I, after all this, say "charism"?) that has called so many over the centuries to fol-low the path of religious life. Notes ~ This essay was presented originally at the 1998 History of Women Religious Conference in Chicago. Though not every point is supported by refei'ences, this essay rests upon my decade-long research into the history of American women religious, including work in the archives of about seventy-five congregations and familiarity with virtually all the published materials on this subject, including historical and biographical works on over three hundred individual communities. On the subject of charism, I read all Vatican documents dealing with religious life, as well as approximately three dozen articles directly or indirectly on this sub-ject that have appeared in Review for Religious (U.S.A.) and Religious Life Review (Ireland). Many of the incidents and ideas recounted here are developed more fully in some of my previous publications; see, in par-ticular, "Discovering Foremothers: Sisters; Society, and the American Catholic Experience," U.S. Catholic Historian 5 (Summer/Autumn 1986): 273-290; "To Serve the People of God: Nineteenth-Century Sisters and the Creation of an American Catholic Religious Life," Cushwa Center Working Papers, Series 18, no. 2 (1986); "Women and American Review for Religious Catholicism, 1789-1989," in Perspectives on the Catholic Church in America, 1789-1989, ed. Virgina Geiger and Stephen Vicchio (Westminster, Maryland: Christian Classics, 1989), pp. 123-142; "Sisterhood and Power: Class, Culture, and Ethnicity in the American Convent," Colby Library Quarterly 25 (1989): 149-175; "Women, Feminism, and the New Religious History: Catholic Sisters as a Case Study," in Belief and Behavior: Essays in the New Religious History, ed. Philip VanderMeer and Robert Swierenga (New Brunswick, New Jersey: Rutgers University Press, 1991), pp. 136-163;."Cultural Conundrum: Sisters, Ethnicity, and the Adaptation of American Catholicism," Mid-America 74 (1992): 205-230; "The Validation of Sisterhood: Canonical Status and Liberation in the History of American Nuns," in A Leaf of the Great Tree of God: Essays in Honor of Ritamary Bradley SFCC, ed. Margot H. King (Toronto: Peregrina Publishing Co., 1994), pp. 38-78; and "Concentric Circles of Sisterhood," in Building Sisterhood: A Feminist History of the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary (Syracuse: Syracuse University Press, 1997), pp. 1-21. For their insights into this subject, I offer my thanks to Ritamary Bradley SFCC, Thomas J. Costello, Barbara Garland SC, James Hennesey SJ, Mary Ann Hinsdale IHM, Elizabeth A. West ICM, and many of the participants in the Sister-L internet discussion group 2 In this, SCRIS reiterates a point made in a document it issued five years earlier, Mutuae relationes: "Bishops, in union with the Roman pon-tiff, receive from Christ the head the duty (see LG §21) of discerning gifts and competencies, of coordinating multiple energies, and of guid-ing the entire people in living in the world as a sign and instrument of salvation. They, therefore, are also entrusted with the duty of caring for religious chariSms" (§9); and "It is .the duty of bishops as authentic teach-ers and guides of perfection for all the members of the diocese (see CD §§12; 15; 35, 2; and LG §§25, 45) to be the guardians likewise of fidelity to the religious vocation in the spirit of each institute . Bishops, along with their clergy, should be. firm guardians of the specific character of each religious family both in the spiritual and in the apostolic field" (§28). These passages, as well as that from EssentialElements (§41), raise some serious questions about the autonomy and integrity of religious charisms, since the implication is that they cannot be presumed to exist "authentically" until those in (external) hierarchical authority say they exist. Certainly, this is a matter deserving of substantial Consideration; but, unfoi'tunately, that is outside the scope of this paper. 3 Wilfrid Harrington, "Charism," in A New Dictionary of Theology, ed. Joseph A. Komonchak et al. (Wilmington: Michael Glazier, 1987), p. 180; The HarperCollins Encyclopedia of Catholicism, ed. Richard E McBrien (HarperSanFrancisco, 1989), pp. 299-300. 4 These figures, as well as information included in Table 1, are derived from a detailed listing of all Catholic women's apostolic communities that I have located to date that existed in the United States between 1727 and 1917. Included in this list are com.munities which, for most or all of their existence, engaged in some form of active ministry. Thus, for May-June 1999 247 24S Thompson ¯ Charism or Deep Story? instance, contemplative Benedictines are omitted, as are purely contem-plative Visitation monasteries. In compiling these data, principal sources were: Elinor Tong Dehey, Religious Orders of Women in the United States, rev. ed. (Hammond, Indiana, 1930); Joan M. Lexau, Convent Life: Roman Catholic Religious Orders for Women in North America (New York, 1964), pp. 209-387 (Index of Orders); and Evangeline Thomas, Women Religious History Sources: A Guide to Repositories in the United States (New York, 1983), pp. 169-176 (Table of U.S. Founding Dates). Some information came from other sources, which are identified on the comprehensive list in my possession. s In that respect, they bear a similarity to the rest of the 149 U.S. con-gregations that have more individualized origins and have "founders" that they share, if at all, with only a handful of others. I shall return a bit later to the question of charism as it affects them. 6 All eight of the first indigenous communities of women studied by Barbara Misner in her landmark work, "Highly Respectable and Accomplished Ladies": Catholic Women Religious in America, 1790-18Y0 (New York: Garland, 1988), devoted most or all of their early ministerial energies to teaching. So did the vast majority of foundations initiated from abroad-- including the first in what is now the United States, the New Orleans Ursulines (founded in 1727). By 1884 the U.S. bishops, gathered at the Third Plenary Council of Baltimore and extremely concerned about "leak-age" from the faith, paid tribute to the success of these pioneers (and to their belief that the education of youth was the best way to keep people within the church) by their declaration that every parish in the country should establish at least one school within the next two years. That, in turn, increased the demand for religious teachers (the overwhelming majority of them women, and sisters), just as the "new immigration" (c. 1880-1917) from heavily Catholic eastern and southern Europe was get-ting underway. See also Gerald Shaughnessy, Has the Immigrant Kept the Faith? (New York: Macmillan, 1925); "The Pastoral Letter of 1884," in The National Pastorals of the American Hierarchy (1792-1919), ed. Peter Guilday (Washington, D.C.: National Catholic Welfare Council, 1923), pp. 280-282; Thompson, "Women and American Catholicism," p. 125. 7 This Guide (Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 1964) appeared in six editions, the first in 1952 and the last in 1966. The 1964 edition was selected for use here because it appeared only one year before Perfectae caritatis called upon religious to renew themselves "in the spirit of their founders," thereby initiating the whole postconciliar emphasis on "charism." It should be noted that McCarthy acquired his information from the communities; therefore, these are the founding stories that the sisters themselves had identified and transmit-ted to him for inclusion. s I have written extensively elsewhere about the fact that many of these stories bear little or no resemblance to reality. That is, communi-ties which traditionally cited clerics as founders have, since Vatican II, in quite a number of cases, identified and reclaimed women as their prin- Review for Religious cipal initiators. Nevertheless, we cannot dismiss the significance of these founding stories (often recounted and thereby reinforced for several gen-erations) either. Whether or not men actually took the principal initia-tive in founding particular communities, it did affect the self-understandings of hundreds of sisters who were taught, and who believed, that the men had done so. 9 William Humphrey SJ, Elements of Religious Life, 2nd ed. (London: Thomas Baker, 1903), p. 164. 10 p. Lothar Hardick OFM, He Leads, I Follow: The Life of Mother Maria Theresia Bonzel, Foundress of the Sisters of St. Francis of Perpetual Adoration, trans. Sisters M. Honora Hau and M. Clarahilda Fischer (Colorado Springs, I971), pp. 23, 30-31, 185-186. Ironically, perhaps, Pfaender later separated and founded her own religious congregation, which also was Franciscan (known in the U.S. as the Wheaton [Illinois] Franciscans): M. Brunilde Probst, The Burning Seak Mother Mary Clara Pfaender, 1827- 1882 (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1960). n The founding of the community is recounted in great detail in Vol. 1 of Josephine Marie Peplinski SSJ-TOSF, A Fitting Response: The History of the Sisters of St. Joseph of the Third Order of St. Francis (South Bend, Indiana: priv. pub., 1982, 1992); material here is taken specifically from Vol. 2, pp. ix, 49-50, 239 (italics in the original). Jaskulski was superior general for 1902-1908, 1918-1928, 1940-1942 (when she died); Rybicki was superior general for 1908-1918. Both were perpetually in leader-ship, either as head of the congregation or on its council, from its foun-dation until their deaths (Ryb!cki died in 1926); their lives, spiritualities, and contrasting administrations are described meticulously in chapters 1, 4, and 5 of Vol. 2. I also have written about the SSJ-TOSF story; see esp. "Sisterhood and Power" and "Cultural Conundrum" (see note 1). 12Judith Sutera OSB, True Daughters: Monastic Identity and American Benedictine Women's History (Atchison: priv. pub., 1987); M. Incarnata Girgen, Behind the Beginnings (St. Joseph, Minnesota: priv. pub., 1981); Ephrem Hollermann, The Reshaping of a Tradition: American Benedictine Women, 1852-1881 (Vv'inona: St. Mary's Press, 1994). ~3 Sutera, True Daughters, esp. chaps. 4-5 and pp. 38, 42, 53-56. 14 McCarthy, 1964 Guide, pp. 195-197. ,s Dorothy A. Vidulich, Peace Pays a Price: A Study of Margaret Anna Cusack, the Nun ofKenmare, 2nd ed. (Washington, D.C., priv. pub., 1990; orig. 1975); see also Irene Ffrench Edgar, Margaret Anna Cusack (Dublin: Women's Press, 1979); Margaret Anna Cusack, The Nun of Kenmare: An Autobiography (Boston: Houghton, Mifflin, 1891). 16 The Monroe IHM story is told in fascinating detail throughout Building Sisterhood (see note 1, above); see, in particular, Marita-Constance Supan IHM, "Dangerous Memory: Mother M. Theresa Maxis Duchemin and the Michigan Congregation of the Sisters, IHM," pp. 31-67; Suzanne Fleming IHM, "She Who Remained: Mother Mary Joseph Walker and the 'Refounding' of the IHM Congregation," pp. 69-92; and Thompson, May-Jutte 1999 Thompson ¯ Cbarinn or Deep Story? "Concentric Circles," esp. pp. 5-8, and "Part l:The Context," pp. 25-28. L7 Fleming, "She Who Remained," p. 91; Margaret Brennan IHM, "'No Two Exactly Alike': IHM Spirituality," in Building Sisterhood, pp. 95-109; see also Rosalita Kelly IHM, No Greater Service: The History of the Congregation of the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary (Monroe: priv. pub., 1948), esp. p. 132. L8 McCarthy, 1964 Guide, p. 325. ~9 The SSMO story is told with honesty in Wilfred P. Schoenberg SJ, These Valiant Women: History of the Sisters of St. Mary of Oregon, 1886- 1986 (Portland: priv. pub., 1986)~ I also have read Wilhelmina's diary in the SSMO archives, Beaverton, Oregon. Three of the original members of the Ohio group left it during the days in Wisconsin and became found-ing members in 1869 (one of them first superior when the group was of officially established) of the Franciscan Sisters of Christian Charity in Manitowoc; see M, Teresita Kit~:ell OSF, Refining His Silver: Pioneer Days of the Franciscan Sisters of Christian Charity, Manitowoc, Wisconsin, 1866- 1911 (Manitowoc: priv. pub., 1979). This, among other things, serves to document the length of time that the: schismatic "cult" was in existence before the SSMO's "founding" in 1886. 20 Bernard Lee SM, "A Socio-Historical Theology of Charism," Review for Religious 48, no. 1 (1989): 124-135; see also Doris Gottemoeller RSM, "Befriending the Wind," Review for Religious 53, no. 6 (1994): esp. p. 811. n See also Stephen Crites, "The Narrative Quality of Experience," Journal of the American Academy of Religion 39 (1971). Open Wounds Be bold, twin brother. Probe the wounds doubt demands to see. The gash is but entrance to his heart. Pry it wide to penetrate the core. Review for Religious Demand and desire, too, are twins that seek to let his hallowed, hollow hands transform old hurts to quiet awe. , ~Eugene Cartier ELIZABETH McDONOUGH The Need for Self-Criticism: Affirmative Comments I n the United States the precipitous decline in numbers of postolic women religious since Vatican Council II will surely have far-reaching consequences for all segments of the church as the third millennium begins. Church-related educational and healthcare institutions will probably continue to be transferred to nonecclesial and sometimes for-profit auspices, and many Catholics may grow up unaware that apostolic congregations of women reli-gious exist as ways of life that could have appealed to them. ~ Recently, in commenting on the years of renewal in religious life since Vatican II, Sister Doris Gottemoeller RSM noted that "for the most part we have not identified and reflected on the learnings" from this experience and that "critical reflection on our present reality" has been lacking.1 She is currently president of the Sisters of Mercy of the Americas, is a recent past president of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR), was a participant in the 1994 Synod on Consecrated Life, and is one of the original members of the Catholic Common Ground Initiative. Her comments may represent a pivotal change in perspective by someone in an influential leadership position. And, since critical self-appraisal has been neither prevalent nor popular among American women religious since Vatican II, her comments may also represent a significant change at this time. Elizabeth McDonough OP has written the Canonical Counsel column in this journal since our issue of July-August 1990 and has contributed several other articles as well. Her address is P.O. Box 29260; Washington, D.C. 20017. ,~'h~y-~une 1999 McDonougb * The Need for Self-Criticism Though voices of criticism have consistently been raised about the postconciliar renewal efforts of religious life--by members of the hierarchy, by diocesan and religious clergy, by lay people, and by sisters themselves--critical reflection from without or from within has frequently been openly excluded Or quietly ignored in many, and perhaps most, women's apostolic communities. Over the years, members of women's religious communities have, in both speech and writing, lodged various objections to the general direction the path of postconciliar change was taking, a path that people now see as leading to pos-sible demise. The objections made over the years concerned, among other matters, the tendency towards having women religious governed by groups or by intermediate administrative personnel rather than by specific individuals elected to particular offices; the steady move-ment towards (so-called) total-participation chapters, which fre-quently exclude actual participation for many sisters; the general abandonment of easily recognizable identity symbols, along with the failure to maintain various community practices that many found meaningful; the increased use of open placement regarding sisters' employment, with the concomitant results of expanded apostolic diversity, an inability of congregations to make or meet institutional commitments, and the lessening of opportunities for community living. But in many women's congregations such objec-tions have not been well received by leadership or by segments of the membership. Moreover, although explicit internal objections regarding prevalent renewal patterns seem to have diminished over the years and to be somewhat rare now, it seems that members who still wish to embrace a renewed but traditional form of religious life (and who may be in their sixties, seventies, or even eighties) now channel their efforts elsewhere because of their experience of func-tional or systematic exclusion from effecting changes in internal governance. Many now direct their energies to living the remain-ing years of their vowed life by witnessing simply to the values they have consistently embraced but felt circumstantially unable to practice during much of the course of renewal. That is, they now consciously seek opportunities to live in common, to share com-munity prayer, and to minister in an apostolate traditionally related to their charism. Meanwhile, younger members--that is, mem-bers mostly under fifty--have initiated regular intra- and inter- Review for Religious congregational gatherings and networking in search of mutual sup-port and deeper religious meaning. Regarding various community renewal policies and proce-dures, then, numbers of community members have voiced explicit criticism--and by their practice have made some implicit criticism unmistakably clear too. Beyond this criticism arising from within apostolic communities of women religious, critical assessments have come also from people outside these communities. These assess-ments have been met with a similar pattern of rejection. Comments that even border on being critical have been categorically discountenanced as arising variously from arrogant, intemperate, shallow, uninformed, traditionalist, or ignorant sources. Criticism from the hierarchy and diocesan clergy seems often to have been excluded because they are regarded as hopelessly embedded in patriarchy. Criticism from religious priests seems to have been judged unacceptable because they are con-sidered to be unduly influenced by their experience of clerical advantage. And criticism from lay people seems to have been readily rejected because many of them are viewed as harboring unrealistic expectations of a lifestyle in which they do not share. Indeed, a pattern of negative reaction to critical assessmentsof what has happened since Vatican II is evident in responses to a recent article concerning possible causes for the current dearth of religious vocations in some communi-ties) It often appears that only certain internal, ostensibly self-perpetuating authorities or select special-interest groups are judged as adequately expressing the renewa! process among women reli-gious. Any suggestion from any source that any viable religious life in the future might diverge from the direction envisioned by the prevailing progressive model seems to be all too readily con-sidered as patently reactionary, as categorically negative, as arro-gantly uninformed, as judgmentally ignoring women's unique lived Any suggestion from any source that any viable religious life in the future might diverge from the direction envisioned by the prevailing progressive model seems to be all too readily considered as patently reactionary. ;'~,lay-JuJle 1999 254 McDonough ¯ The Need for Self-Criticism experience, as unfairly critical, or as an emotionally immature attachment to a former way of life) Furthermore, as postconciliar renewal has continued, it is not only critical observations that have been shunned .by women reli-gious in this country. Significant research data and pointed rec-ommendations from comprehensi'be sociological studies have also been embraced only selectively and implemented only sporadi-cally. Results from the ongoing, multifaceted, and controversial "Sisters' Survey"--as formulated and conducted under the direc-tion of sociologist Marie Augusta Neal SNDdeN--were systemat-ically distributed to participating congregations, published in several books~ and regularly reported at national meetings of major superiors from 1967 through the late 1980s. In stark contrast, amazingly little attention has been given to the more recent findings of psychologists David Nygren CM and Miriam Ukeritis CgJ. These researchers surprised participants at a 1992 Chicago workshop when, in presenting data from their study on the Future of Religious Orders in the United States (abbreviated as FORUS), they announced that many religious communities in this country had only a "ten-year window" in which to alter the present course of decline if they wished to perdure many years into the third millennium. The conferences of major superiors (CMSM and LCWR) were directly involved in the planning and execution of the FORUS study, which rendered some startling results about reli-gious in the United States. Included in these discoveries were. a lack of role clarity among religious (especially in apostolic groups of women), a high degree of cultural assimilation by religious, a general ministerial invisibility of religious, a relative dearth of effec-tive leadership in most religious communities, an apparently less-ened inclination to sacrifice among religious, and a widespread loss of institutional commitments by religious congregations.4 More than half a decade has passed since Nygren and Ukeritis projected that there was only a "ten-year window" of opportunity for the viability of religious institutes in America. During this time the FORUS findings seem to have gone largely unheeded or to have been relegated to convenient oblivion. Could it be that this study was greeted with a less than enthusiastic response precisely because its findings were unpopular among the group being assessed? For, indeed, the FORUS results did not shower unbounded accolades on the postconciliar transformation of reli-gious life in America; did not unquestioningly advocate contin- Review for Religious ued pursuit of the progressive model of renewal, and did not offer unrestrained optimism for the future prospects of religious insti-tutes. Or could it be that the FORUS findings, perceived as being all too accurate, were simply too painful to accept and conse-quently were met with at least unconscious denial at individual and collective levels in most congregations, particularly those of women religious? Over the years, religious in several areas of expertise have also sounded calls for critical reassessment of current practices in light of the manifest patterns of continuing decline in religious institutes. These calls, too, seem largely unheeded. The historical and sociological analyses of Raymond Fitz SM and Lawrence Cada SM, which appeared in the mid 1970s, got little attention after several months of popular discussion. Their work said quite clearly that probably only a small fraction of the then extant communi-ties would successfully negotiate post- Vatican renewal efforts,s Might the brief notice that Fitz and Cada's anal-yses received.be due, at least in part, to their intimation that religious con-gregations over the centuries have had identifiable lifespans, that many con-gregations did not last long after a per-vasive experience of absolute doubt regarding purpose, and that this seemed to be precisely the situa-tion at that time for thousands of religious in America? In 1983 CARA (Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate) in Washington, D.C., published a translation of the 1972 land-mark monograph of Raymond Hostie SJ, Vie et mort des ordres religieux, on which the Fitz and Cada material was directly based.6 The introduction to this booklet, by historian Dolores Liptak RSM, explains its significance, its application to ~enewal among American religious and specifically women religious. But this, too, appears to have received only scant attention within women's communities in the United States. All through the early 1990s, Eleace King IHM, of CAR& pub-lished data about--and reasons for--the steady decline in voca- Religious in several areas of expertise have also sounded calls for critical reassessment of current practices in light of the manifest patterns of continuing decline in religious institutes. 255 May-,]une 1999 McDonougb * The Need for Self-Criticism tions to progressively oriented communities along with parallel data about the constant flow of vocations to traditional groups.7 Little note, however, has been taken of these results. At the beginning of this decade, David O'Connor ST offered a balanced and readable summary of the various cultura!, eccle-sial, theological, and ideological shifts that may be contributing to the (possible) disappearance of many religious institutes in this country; but his work is rarely cited or even referenced in reli-gious- life circles.8 In 1991 I myself published what the editor of America magazine referred to as a "trenchant critique" of the then prevailing trends in religious life, while the editor of First Things described it as "a first-rate analysis of what has gone awry in the many worlds of American religion."9 This analysis and critique received an overwhelming positive response from members of reli-gious communities around the world, but it was simultaneously greeted with resounding silence from those in leadership. Albert DiIanni SM has offered thoughtful considerations based on his experience of the renewal of religious life as it currently relates to religion, to modernity, to modern psychology, to com-munity, to decreasing vocations, and to certain laicizing trends in the post-Vatican II era; but his observations have been met with either studied unconcern or strident rejectionJ° And little heed has been paid to the recent, assessment of sociologist Patricia Wittberg SC that the future of most religious communities is severely limited--if not rather bleak---precisely because a coinci-dence of internal and external factors has resulted in a collapse of their ideological framework and a lessening or elimination of their functional supports.~ Regarding postconciliar religiousqife trans-formation, are only laudatory comments able to be perceived as having any meaning and value for communities of women reli-gious in America today? In many of these communities, a pattern of dismissing with studied disdain or even open derision any factual data that leads to disconcerting conclusions about their lives has been ill too evi-dent in the response to Ann Carey's recent book, a book (widely conceded to be well documented) that details decisions and actions taken in the decades since Vatican II within the conference of major superiors for women's institutes.~2 Note, hbwever, that Lora Ann Quifionez CDP and Mary Daniel Turner SNDdeN published a book earlier in the decade that traced precisely the same era of transi-tion and detailed most of the same topics, but from a different Review for Religious perspective and with less specific documentation.13 In contrast to Carey's work, the Quifionez-Turner book was well received and has been highly touted as an accurate portrait of renewal. Yet both books present renewal as deliberately intended and carefully planned. Both books address the influence of cultural context, the impa6t of the Sisters' Survey, the effect of feminist initiatives, the disruption from internal conference conflicts, the consequences of hierarchic confrontations, and other such topics in reference to postconciliar religious life. Both books name those who were instrumental in the renewal process at national and local levels in this country. And the authors of both books offer assessments of what has actually occurred. Could the disparity in recep-tion of these two works be due at least in part to the fact that the Quifionez- Turner book evaluates these happen-ings positively while the Carey book views the results as more than slightly wide of the mark envisioned by Perfectae caritatis? To be sure, journalist Carey is a laywoman who judged the evidence she amassed as anything but complimen-tary to the renewal process and those who directed it, and she called for critical reassessment of renewal results. On the other hand, Quifionez and Turner are women religious--both former executive secretaries of LCWR and both instrumental in effecting the postconciliar transformation--who judged the results thus far as entirely positive and urged further development along the same course of renewal. It is a truism of historical scholarship that those attempting an analysis of a set of events need a realistic broad familiarity with the historical context. But does this explain why the perspective on religious-life renewal presented by those who guided it should so readily be judged more accurate or more objective or more accept-able than the perspective of someone who has carefully pored over official documentation and verifiable data and has her own lived familiarity with post-Vatican II renewal? Could it be that negative assessments of religious-life renewal from whatever source are Could it be that negative assessments of religious-life renewal from whatever source are simply unacceptable to women religiousm for whatever reason ? 257 May-June 1999 McDonougb ¯ The Need for Self-Criticism t_g_ 1 simply unacceptable to women religious--for whatever reason? For an explanation of the present situation of decline and demise, are many women religious simply incapable of looking further than a speculatively fascinating and vaguely consoling convergence of sociological circumstances that impact religious life fr0m outside? Is none of the decline and demise of the past thirty-three years attributable to decisions made and actions taken within religious communities? Have dispersed ministries and secular attire (with lapel pins) and apartment living had absolutely no detrimental effect, whether expected or not? Are women religious able to look at none of the above? And, if so, why? Though the suggestion made ten years ago by sociologist Wittberg that the behavioral patterns among congregations of women religious might "actually be dysfunctional for organiza-tional survival" appears to have been effectively ignored, it may well identify a pertinent reality that needs to be at least acknowl-edged- if not directly addressed--by religious congregations of women today.14 And perhaps women religious would also do well to attend to the warning, offered in 1988 by psychologist Donna Markham OP, that the positive perception they had of themselves did not match the perception of others--something that did not bode well for vocations.~s Indeed, with rare exception, vocations have declined steadily throughout the decade since Markham's observation, and in most communities of apostolic women reli-gious the median age has gradually increased. " True enough, religious life is not merely a functional institu-tion, and it certainly ought not to be reduced to a numbers game. But is it unrealistic to suggest that a minimal number of members is needed for a community to perdure, to serve effectively, and to hand on a religious tradition? And, when women religious look over their shoulder for younger women walking in their footsteps and see no one there, is it really unfair to surmise that what they have been fashioning since Vatican II may not be a viable form of future religious life after all? Or, again, when congregations begin realistically to project that by the year 2010 fewer than ten percent of their members will be under sixty-five years of age, is it unduly critical to suggest that someone somewhere somehow may have made some decision(s) in the three-plus decades of post-Vatican II renewal that ought seriously to be reassessed and perhaps even altered? I think not. Review for Religious Indeed, on the part of women religious in America (and per-haps elsewhere in the world, too), some possibly difficult but gen-uinely constructive self-criticism and some corrective change of course in various aspects of postconciliar renewal ought to be hon-esdy welcomed.'6 And both may be long overdue, because the real-ity at issue has import far beyond the ever-dwindling numbers of ever-aging apostolic women religious themselves. Notes 1 Doris Gottemoeller, "Religious Life: Where Does It Fit in Today's Church?" in Review for Religious 57, no. 3 (March-April 1998): 146- 160. 2 Albert Dilanni, "A View of Religious Vocations," America 178, no. 6 (28 February 1998): 8-12. 3 See various responses to the Dilanni article (note 2 above) among letters to the editor in the March and early April issues of 1998. 4 David J. Nygren and Miriam D. Ukeritis, "The Religious Life Futures Project: Executive Summary," Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 6-55; also. Origins 22, no. 15 (24 September 1992): 257-272. s Lawrence Cada and Raymond Fitz, "The Recovery of Religious Life," Review for Religious 34, no. 5 (September-October 1975): 690-718. 6 Raymond Hostie, /,qe et mort des ordres religieux (Paris: Descl~e, 1972), translated for a limited English edition as The Life and Death of Religious Orders (Washington, D.C.: CAP, A, 1983). 7 See the CARA Formation Directory for Men and Women Religious (Washington, D.C.: CARA) as edited by Eleace King IHM for the years 1991, 1992, 1993, and 1994-1995. s David O'Connor, Witness and Service (New York: Paulist Press, 1990), pp. 145-162. 9 See, respectively, Elizabeth McDonough, "Beyond the Liberal Model: Quo Vadis?" Review for Religious 50, no. 3 (March-April 1991): 178-188; editorial in America for 13 July 1991; and "The Public Square," First Things, no. 17 (November 1991). ,0 Albert DiIanni, Religious Life as Adventure (New York: Alba House, 1994). " Patricia Wittberg, The Rise and Fall of Catholic Religious Orders (New York: SUNY Press, 1994). ,2 Ann Carey, Sisters in Crisis (Huntington, Indiana: Our Sunday Visitor, 1997). ,3 Lora Ann Quifionez and Mary Daniel Turner, The Transformation of American Catholic Sisters (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1992). ,4 Patricia Wittberg, "Outward Orientation in Declining 259 May-June 1999 McDonough ¯ The Need for Self-Criticism Organizations: Reflections on LCWR Documents," in Claiming Our Truth, ed. Nadine Foley (Washington, D.C.: LCWR, 1988), pp, 91-105. 15 Donna Markham, "The Decline of Vocations in the United States: Reflections from a Psychological Perspective," New Catholic World 231, no. 1381 (January-February 1988): 13-17. 16 See, for example, the recent comments of Doris Gottemoeller, "Religious Life in Crisis," Origins 28, no. 36 (25 February 1999): 634- 638. The Treasure Long ago a rainbow arc'd my storm-tossed sky, and the pot of gold I found then is still bottomless. Since that serendipitous moment, faith has claimed its reality. I see with clarity--over the clouds, beyond the rains--that joy and pain alike qualify to mine the treasure, provide the coin to buy the Kingdom, here on the green earth for a time, and there in the meadows of Eternity. Anna Marie Mack SSJ Review for Religious LARRY N. LORENZONI The Annuario Pontificio The Vatican's "Pontifical Yearbook" and a Recent Editorial Decision Fourteen years ago the Religious Life Review, edited in Dublin by Father Austin Flannery OP, published an arti-cle with the catchy title "The Single Sex Church of the Annuario Pontificio." Its opening paragraphs noted the almost total absence of women's names in the church's official directory. The same article was later reprinted in Sisters Today with a milder title: "The Annuario Pontificio and Women in the Church." The Annuario Pontificio is the 4.25"-by-6.5" 2500- page yearbook of the Roman Catholic Church. Bound in red cloth with a golden papal coat of arms on the cover, it contains annually updated information about the College of Cardinals, all archbishops and bishops (with basic facts about their respective dioceses), all prelates and abbots, the secretariat of state, the Roman tribunals, congregations, councils, and commissions, the Vatican Library, the church's worldwide diplomatic representa-tives (nuncios and pronuncios), all the ambassadors accredited to the Holy See, the administration of Vatican City, all officially approved religious orders of men and Larry N. Lorenzoni SDB, a Salesian priest, served in the late 1980s as director of the documentation, information, and press office of Caritas Internationalis in Rome. Currently director of development for his province, he may be addressed at Salesians of St. John Bosco; 1100 Franklin Street; San Francisco, California 94109. 1999 261 A former noteworthy feature of the Annuario was the almost total absence of females in its pages. 262 Lorenzoni ¯ Tlse Annuario Pontifido of women, academies, atheneums, pontifical universities (six: Gregoriana, Lateranense, Urbaniana, San Tommaso d'Aquino [Angelicum], Salesiana, and the new Santa Croce), a number of seminaries and colleges, and various other institutes and cultural organizations. The Annuario closes with a hundred pages of historical notes and six hundred pages of alphabetical lists: names of all the dio-ceses, prelatures~ and titular dioceses (in their Latin adjectival form, Latin noun form, and modern Roman-alphabet form) and the names and page references of some 25,000 persons. It is a fascinat-ing book. Of the 151 living cardinals listed in the 1997 Annuario (to cite a rather significant fact one can easily cull from its pages), 4 were created by Pope John xxIII, 31 by Paul vI, and 116 by Pope John Paul II. A former noteworthy feature of the Annuario--it used to distinguish it from virtually eve .ry other directory in the world--was the almost total absence of females in its pages. The alpha-betical list at the end of the directory was conse-quently 99.99 percent male. Historical, doctrinal, and traditional considerations are essential for a proper understanding of this situation. One page from the 1985 article (in RLR) found its way to the Vatican underground and quickly became the subject of some interesting conversa-tions during my four years (1986-1990) at Caritas Internationalis, the church's worldwide charity wing. In the penthouses of Palazzo San Callisto, where the Caritas offices are located (near Santa Maria in Trastevere), lived a number of active and retired cardinals (Roger Etchegaray, Bernardin Gantin, Paul Poupard, Ferdinando Antonelli, Francesco Carpino, and Francis Arinze). I came to know best Cardinal Francis Arinze, from Nigeria, the genial president of the Pontifical Council for Interreligious Dialogue. Occasionally I see him mentioned among the papabili and featured as a speaker on Mother Angelica's EWTN television programs. He is keenly intelligent and friendly, a good listener, articulate and ever an opti-mist. Open to new ideas, he weighs carefully all arguments against the truths of the faith and then follows them courageously t6 their logical conclusions. I remember in particular one conversation I had with him at Review for Religious Palazzo San Callisto, a conversation occasioned by some para-graphs from that December 1985 article (of mine) in RLR, which some friend had shared with him. The paragraphs are these: One glaring lacuna [in the Annuario Pontificio] is hard to understand, and even harder to accept, because of the anger it is likely to provoke today when everyone is being increas-ingly sensitized against all kinds of discrimination. I am refer-ring to the omission of the names of the superiors general of women religious where the individual congregations are listed with the address of the generalate and current information as to the number of foundations and of professed members. .This anomaly came to my attention when I needed to check the spelling of the name of the new mother general of our Salesian sisters. I had just looked up the name of the superior general of the Fathers of Mercy (whose ad I had seen in The Wanderer), so I turned instinctively to the Annuario for the answer to my question. It was not as sim-ple as I thought. For every male congregation, the name of the superior general is invariably given (and, in 99 percent of the cases, also that of the procurator general). One learns, for instance, that the Very Rev. John O'Brien is the superior general of the Fathers of Mercy (an order founded in 1808), even though the order has only seven members worldwide. Fifty-four religious orders of men have less than I00 pro-fessed members, seven have 25 or fewer, but in each case the name of the general is prominently displayed. I was chagrined to discover that in the case of the orders and congregations of women one looks in vain in the Annuario for the names of the mothers general. Some 120 of those congregations have a membership of over 1000 sis-ters. In vain did I look for the name of the superior general of the Salesian sisters, even though the Daughters of Mary Help of Christians, as they are officially known, have a worldwide membership of nearly 18,000. They are the sec-ond largest congregation of women in the church, after the 34,000 Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul. Such a discriminatory omission tends to reinforce all the worst stereotypes one hears about the institutional church and its treatment of women, since it conveys a number of admittedly unintentional but nonetheless inescapable mes-sages: (1) Women are of little consequence in the church. (2) The father superior of ten men is more important than the mother superior of I0,000 women. (3) Names of females, no matter how important, need not be listed in the Annuario because the church does not discuss matters of consequence with them anyway. (4)Male religious superiors are routinely consulted, and hence it is necessary to have their names listed May-June 199.9 Lorenzoni ¯ The AnnuarioPontificio in the Annuario, but listing the flames of the superiors gen-eral of women does not serve any useful purpose since very rarely does one need to know who they are and even less deal or correspond with them. (5) Sisters are supposed to accept obediently and without too many questions whatever Holy Mother Church says. Unfortunately, in the thinking of many, Holy Mother Church is often equated with male power structure. No dissenting voice was heard from those who had joined our conversation. Both retired Cardinal Francesco Carpino (a man of rare nobility, who died 5 October 1993) and Cardinal Francis Arinze agreed that the Annuario should at long last join the mod-ern age and list the names of women religious superiors alongside those of their male counterparts. But Rome moves slowly. The 16 December 1994 issue of Commonweal carried this item under its Et Cetera rubric: Speaking in support of requests by women's religious orders for an end to discrimination by the church against women, Archbishop Maurice Couture of Quebec pointed to the 1993 Vatican Yearbook (Annuario Pontificio); it lists the names of the superiors general of all institutes of men, but none of the names of the superiors general of women (Origins, November 3). Good for the archbishop, but he's ten years late. Writing in Religious Life Review for November-December 1985, our correspondent Larry Lorenzoni SDB [Correspondence, November 18] recalled turning to the Annuario to find the name of the superior general of the Fathers of Mercy, an order founded in 1808 which has seven members worldwide. The name was there: the Very Rev. John O'Brien. He also looked for the name of the superior general of the Salesian sisters, the second largest congregation of women in the church: nearly 18,000 members. No name. Some of the mes-sages conveyed (Father Lorenzoni, a kind man, says they are "admittedly unintentional but nonetheless inescapable"): "Women are of little consequence in the church; the father superior of ten men is more important than the mother supe-rior of 10,000 women; there's no point in publishing the names of women superiors because who needs to know them." I have before me the 1997 edition of the Annuario Pontificio. I see with some personal satisfaction that each religious congrega-tion of women now routinely carries, as an additional entry, the name of the mother general. The change can safely be labeled "routine" since it started with the Annuario's 1996 edition. Review for Religious No doubt, some gentle nudging by a few highly placed mem-bers of the College of Cardinals, as well as by bishops convinced that the previous practice was clearly discriminatory, helped level the field. Word eventually reached the offices of the Vatican sec-retariat of state, on which the Annuario Pontificio depends, and suitable action followed with the publication of the 1996 edition. A recent phone call to the secretariat of state enabled me to reach Angela Zanetti, a most personable and knowlegeable lady who was for twenty-six years connected with the production of the Annuario. Her new supervisor, Monsignore Fermenti, intro-duced her to me as a "walking encyclopedia on the history of the Annuario Pontificio." Here are some interesting facts from our con-versation: ¯ The first list of male religious orders (Istituti Mascbili) appeared in the 1838 edition of the Annuario. ¯ The first list of female religious orders (Istituti Femminih) appeared 98 years later, in the 1940 edition, without the name of the mother general. ¯ The two lists continued to be published (Ordini Mascbili first, Ordini Femminili second) in the years following, each order of men shouting prominently the name of the general, each order of women lacking that particular information. * At last, in the 1996 edition, for the very first time, the information concerning each religious order of women included also the name of the mother general, as had previously been done for even the smallest reli-gious orders of men. I am reminded of what Pat Paulsen, the late tongue-in-cheek presidential candidatei once said with his usual aplomb: "No one should be denied equal rights because of the shape of their skin." Subs'criptions to Review for Religious can flow b~ ordered,or renewedoby FAX; and paid forby Ma~terCard ~o'r Visd. FA~ the order form inside the back cover, or cALL our o~c~ ~wi~ "th your credit card number: IF~: 31z~-977~7362 0, ~'HONE: 314-977-7363 1999 JOAN A. RANGE Women and Canon Law Cbanon law, as a support for the life of the community of elievers, that is, the church, has a history almost as old as the community itself. Over the centuries, its formulation has not been the work of women, a fact that is readily understandable. Women did not have the status nor society the liberality for that kind of contribution. Women were, however, a vital part of the church and society: in the church as members of the various ordines that supported the living community and in society as wives and mothers2 History witnesses to this fact and those roles. Women's lives, moreover, were guided by the protection, pre-scriptions, and sanctiohs of the church's law. In church courts of the ¯ Middle Ages, women were parties to suits brought against alleged violations and also were sued for alleged violations of others' rights. The activity of women in the world of canon law is well attested to in the church's history.2 But as members who formulated the law or who addressed the church's courts (defending others or doing advocate work for oth-ers) or judged cases (even as collegiate judges), all this women never did until this century. In this century women have performed all these functions in their own right as members of the church and as canon lawyers. The future is clear for their continued func-tioning to be even more vigorous. This rather astonishing fact needs consideration. Given the absence of women in all these roles before this century, how did this change come about? Joan A. Range ASC is associate professor in the Department of Theological Studies at Saint Loui~ University. Her address is Humanities Bui_lding; 3800 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. Review for Relig4ous Women's Status in Canon Law ~ Before this century, as a rule women's status was that of persons limited before the law. Mostly, women were considered--as were minors and the mentally incompetent--unable in their own person and name to bring a case before the court. This reflected Roman law, from which much of canon law is derived. When, however, asso-ciations of women became moral persons with rights and duties in the law, they were able to bring cases to court, as history shows. Besides bringing cases to the church's tribunals when their rights were being infringed or violated, women were also sued by others if the petitioner felt that his own rights were being infringed or violated by women. This was often a matter of property rights. As time progressed it might also be a matter of marriage rights as well, especially when it concerned the legitimacy of children and their right to inherit. Other than these cases, however, women's presence in~ the laws themselves usually had to do with their status within the church and society, that is, as daughters, wives, moth-ers, widows, nuns, or women of ill repute. Beginning early in the church's history, the protection of wid-ows and orphans was a great concern since these groups were socially the most vulnerable. As time passed and Roman law found its way into the church's mentality, other laws concerning women were developed to protect the virgin from marriage if she resisted, from abduction and rape, and later as a member of a community of consecrated women) Most of the legislation had to do with the women as wives and mothers, however, and especially with their ability to bear children. Laws agains.t adultery, contraception, and abortion were the most prominent since they infringed upon the husband's potency, paternity, or virility.4 Apart from these matters, women as individual persons were not dealt with in the church's laws. The 1917 Code did not always treat women equally with men, as studies testify.5 The 1983 Code, in contrast, states that the "there exists among all the Christian faithful a true equality with regard to dignity and the activity whereby all cooperate in the building up of the Body of Christ in accord with each one's own condition and function.''6 The excep-tion to this is when the nature of the case clearly indicates other-wise, such as the laws having to do with ordination.7 Women began to engage themselves in the activities of the Canon Law Society of America (CLSA) since about the middle of this century. It is that story upon which we now focus. May-June 1999 ,267 Range * Women and Canon Law Women and the Canon Law Society of America The pivotal event for the growth in female membership in the CLSA was the Second Vatican Council (1962-1965).8 Before that event there were clear hints that the status of women in the world and in the church needed to be addressed.9 The council documents, too, indicated those concerns,l° In the United States, women's professional involvement in canon law began in the mid 1960s. Clara Marie Henning, the first woman to become a member of CLSA, applied for membership in 1968. She was then a student in the School of Canon Law at the Catholic University of America, from which she later received the licentiate in canon law (JCL). Other women were members of the CLSA, but their reason for membership was their position as supe-riors of religious orders, not their status as canon lawyers. Even before Vatican II, beginning with Pope Pius XrlI, efforts had been made by the church to bring about a simplification and an updating within the various orders and congregations of women religious worldwide.~ This was a remote cause for interest in canonical matters and membership in the CLSA. After the documents of the council and the implementation decrees of Pope Paul vI had been issued, there was a need and desire to learn about canon law and its usefulness in the efforts of religious congregations toward adaptation and renewal. These efforts had a significant effect on the work during the 1970s toward formulating the new and revised Code. Initially, then, the impetus for women to become members of the CLSA was that congregations of women religious might derive more benefit from canon law. Another reason for women to begin studying canon law and to become members of the CLSA was an academic one. As Catholic universities opened graduate programs in theology for lay people, some women students became interested in pursuing degrees in canon law. This interest included both the relation of canon law to theology and the historical development of canon law. The membership records of the CLSA are limited in a number of ways. For many year~ the records were the responsibility of the coordinator and were not kept in a permanent office. It was only in 1980 that a full-time director and staff began to have an office (with a permanent place for records)at the Catholic University of America. The records up to 1979 were given to the Cushwa Center for .the Study of American Catholicism and are available there as archival records. The membership records are incom- Review for Religious plete, however, because they were not systematically kept, a not uncommon omission when an organization's importance is not understood in its early days22 Nevertheless, the records show a remarkable growth in female membership after the mid 1960s. In 1968 there were hardly five women members. In 1971 the first woman was elected to national office in the CLSA.13 This event witnessed to a movement within the society to include women as active members. In 1976 there were 38 women members; by 1984 there were 139. The 1990 directory lists almost 200 women members.~4 At' the time of the 1996 direc-tory, the female membership stood at 223 out of a total of 1557 members, or about 14 percent. The history of the growth of the membership of women in the CLSA is part of the growth of la~Yomember-ship. Already in1,37 the CLSA's committee on membership was concerned with appropriate criteria. The concern was not specif-ically about women, but about qualifications that would assure that interested persons, lay or clerical, would have knowledge about the science of canon law. Before this point a potential mem-ber was sponsored by a current member and his name given to the committee on membership for its approval before being voted on by all those gathered at the national convention. That this rather cumbersome way of enrolling new members needed to be revised was a common opinion at the time. Thomas J. Lynch,~5 chair of the committee on membership, wrote in a report to the board of governors that, in the proposed revision of the constitutions (1967), the CLSA will "rid our con-stitution of any unnecessary clericalism and will also insure that the active and voting membership of the society will be composed of persons whose professional qualifications give them a special com-petence in matters of renewal and revision of law." ,6 As executive secretary, after receiving increased correspon-dence from many interested parties, James Provost laid his con-cerns about qualifications for membership before the board of Initially, the impetus for women to become members of the CLSA was that congregations of women religious might derive more benefit from canon law. Mt{y-June 1999 Range ¯ l, Vomen and Canon Law governors.'7 In 1980 a constitutional amendment was finalized requiring a person to have a degree in canon law in order to be an active member. Others could be associate members, but without the right to vote at the conventions.~s In 1995 a survey was distributed to women members at the annual convention held in conjunction with the Canadian Canon Law Society in Montreal. Its purpose was to discover the experi-ence of women as members of the CLSA. One hundred three responses were returned, with seventeen women indicating asso-ciate membership, the rest active membership. The responses demonstrated a positive experience within the society; there were a few exceptions, but even they did not indicate major difficulties. One commented that the CLSA was "one of the best kept secrets of the American Church." A tone must have been set many years ago, another respondent speculated, to be inclusive of women.19 Although there is no documentation of a policy decision that ver-ifies that statement, the facts sifice 1968 attest to its reality. The inclusion of women on committees, their election to national posi-tions as officers and consultors, and their presentations at plenary sessions and seminars during regional and national conventions-- all this has been remarkable over the last thirty years. Already in 1971 a woman was a member of the religious-affairs committee; in 1972 a woman was on the legal-council committee as well.2° Twice women have been elected vice-president/presi-dent- elect and have assumed the full responsibility of that office. This office is a challenging one for its incumbent, whether male or female, and certainly for a nonordained female. In addition to chairing the board of governors, the president's responsibilities include communications with the hierarchy of the United States, with the various dicasteries of the Vatican, with the canon-law societies of other countries, and with the members of various dioce-san offices throughout the country. The leadership of the society is challenging internally also, since most of the members are still clerics, including bishops, archbi.shops, and cardinals. Besides the increased membership of women in the society and their activity within it, the agendas of the CLSA have been modified because of the interests of the women members and the" commitment of the leadership and membership to women's issues. Already in 1970, at the national convention in New Orleans, a resolution was passed that stated: "The Canon Law Society of America instructs the subcommittee of its task force on the revi- Review for Religious sion of the Code of Canon Law to study the canonical institutions concerning the dignity, freedom, rights, privileges, offices, and obligations of women in the church and to propose those changes necessary to ensure the equitable consideration of all persons regardless of sex by the law of the church.''2~ In 1973 the society cosponsored with the Adrian Dominican Sisters a meeting of canonists and theologians at their college, Siena Heights, to address the question of the ordination of women from a variety of per-spectives?~ In 1972 the board of governors established an ad hoc com-mittee on the status of women in the church; it became a regular committee in 1973.23 At the conven-tion of 1975, Margaret Brennan IHM presented a major address titled "Standing in Experience: A Reflection on the Status of Women in the church." In 1976 a symposium was held at Rosemont College in Pennsylvania on Women and Church Law; in view of the revision going on at the time, it studied how the law addresses women. It published a con-sensus paper, signed by the twenty-four participants, with sug-gestions concerning how the church in the United States might address some of the inequities from which women suffered.24 In 1987 the members of the committee on women raised the question of its future viability. Even though it regularly invited the society's membership to present it with significant issues, the committee had little business to deal with, This was the reason for the eventual elimination of this committee. Its concerns were taken up by a new committee on the laity in the church?5 From 1988 on, some members of the CLSA were involved with the canon-ical dimensions of the U.S. bishops' Letter on Women that was eventually published in 1990.26 A resolution was taken by the society in 1992 to study the question of the diaconate for women. In 1995 the report by the ad hoc committee, "The Canonical Implications of Ordaining Women to the Permanent Diaconate," was presented to the national con-vention and accepted by the membership.27 This document received a wide distribution to other professional societies and to the National Conference of Catholic Bishops (NCCB). A resolution was taken by the society in 1992 to study the question of the diaconate for women. 271 May-.Tune 1999 Range ¯ Women and Canon Law With the promulgation of Pope John Paul II's apostolic let-ter Ordinatio sacerdotalis stating that the church has no authority to ordain women, the activity of the society on some of these issues perforce ceased, and no new initiatives on this issue have been forthcoming. Some study is being done on the question of the laity sharing in the power of jurisdiction, obviously an important issue, for .lay people function more and more in various offices in the church, It remains to be seen, however, if gender-specific issues will continue to inform the society's agenda. Participation in the annual conventions also reflects the change in the presence of women. In 1967 there were no women at the national convention. In 1968 the female participants were superi-ors of religious orders. In 1969-1970 some women religious were present as well as some major superiors.2s In 1971 there were 9 women registered at the convention in Atlanta, out of 224 partic-ipants. As more and more women begame members of the CLSA, more and more of them have attended both the regional and national conventions.29 In the women's responses to the question-naire mentioned above, they noted the quality of exchange at both regional and national conventions. They are a continuing educa-tional experience for the female membership, as they are for oth-ers who attend these meetings. 272 Women's Education in Canon Law It is clear that many of the women members of the CLSA are active members with degrees in canon law. The obtaining of these degrees is a completely novel achievement in the history of women and canon law. In North America there are two schools from which a woman can receive a degree in canon law: the Catholic University of American in Washington, D.C., and St. Paul University in Ottawa. Most U.S. women have chosen one of these two schools for their canonical education. Among the European schools, most women have chosen the Angelicum, which teaches courses in English, and a few the Gregorian, which until onl~ recently taught its courses in Latin. In 1990 John E. Lynch CSP published an interesting and infor-mative article about the history of the Department of Canon Law at the Catholic University of America, "Laying Down the (Canon) Law at Catholic University.m° The occasion for the article was the centenary of Catholic University. In it he remarked that in Review Jbr Religious 1959 women were enrolling in canon law in Rome.3' That had not yet occurred in North America and not at Catholic University, but it would occur in 1967. The first woman to enroll was Clara Marie Henning, a native of Germany. After that, the numbers of women students increased gradually and now have remained con-stant for some time. The first women students, except for Ms. Henning, were women religious.32 The topics of their theses and dissertations represented the concerns of women in the early 1970s, after the close of the council: religious formation, authority, the LCWR, the legal status of women, the pastoral nature of canon law.3~ Besides this continued interest in the concerns of women religious, later tides indicate an interest in the position of lay people in the church: for example, participation in the munus sanctificandi, and ministry and the layperson.34 Still later tides indicate a broadening of inter-est: for example, the relation of canon law to civil law, and the relation of bishops to diocesan church institutions. Licentiate (JCL) theses usually presaged what those who con-tinued on to the doctorate in canon law (JCD) would write their dis-sertations about. Many of the topics arose from the first draft of the soon-to-be-revised Code: lay employees, rights and obligations of Christian parents, tribunal personnel. Also, a number of theses compared the historic 1983 revision with the 1917 Code. When women first entered Catholic University's Department of Canon Law as students, it could be presumed that they would make a difference in the classroom. After the early wave (women religious, all but one), a number Of lay women as well (and men, too) entered the ranks of students. To assess this presumption of difference, I seized an opportunity to interview the faculty of the department in December 1996: Father James Provost (chair), Father John E. Lynch CSP, Father Thomas Green, Father Edward Pfnausch, Sister Rose McDermott ssJ, and Father John Beal.3s Their reflections on the difference women make are interesting and substantiate what I consider an exceedingly important dimen-sion of women's contribution to canon law, that is, women's human-izing effect. Every one of the faculty indicated that the presence of women made the conversation within the class richer; the questions they asked and their observations were different from the ques-tions of the traditional clerical students.36 At first the women stu-dents did not know some of the vocabulary (nor did entering laymen). One of the faculty recalls mentioning the title "vicar May-ffune 1999 273 Range ¯ Women and Canon Law forane," a term completely unfamiliar to the women. But, when this and other technical phrases were learned, the difficulty was sur-mounted. Women and men, according to ~he faculty members inter-viewed, are equally intelligent. A number of them indicated that women seem to work harder, perhaps to catch up with the clerics because of the unfamiliar discourse, perhaps because of a greater personal commitment to learning the field. By and large women are eager students and indicate an appreciation for the dedication of their ifistructors. They suffered from some rather mediocre teaching, but the men suffered from them equally with the women.37 No resentment toward women students precisely because of their gender, however, seems to have marred their educational experience, Women have been elected to leadership within the student body and have functioned well in those positions. They quickly initiated social events that, rich in student exchange, aided schol, arly interests along with providing amiable relaxation. The male students in those same positions of leadership had not been as cre-ative in these important social dimensions of student life. The mission of the faculty in this department derives from their conviction that canon law is g/tided by its theological and pastoral nature. This conviction permeates the curriculum and challenges the students to understand it as an ecclesial discipline, a sister to scriptural, systematic, moral, and church-history stud-ies and influenced by the conclusi6ns of those studies, even as canon law has an influence on them. This understanding of the nature of canon law informs the entire curriculum and therefore shapes the intellectual formation of the students for their future careers as canon lawyers. In my discussions with the faculty, the question arose about the influence of feminism on canon law. In general, the faculty agreed that the agenda of feminism, as various as it is, does not signifi-cantly influence either the students or the classes. Earlier on, given especially the newness of women to the field, the place of women in the 1917 Code, and the questions about women's place in the revised Code, women's'issues had more sig-nificance than they currently have. At that time (through the 1970s) some of the female students manifested some anger due to these issues. Today, however, the nature of law seems to move the direc-tion of the students' questions and concerns much more than gen-der issues do. The women students are not angry, nor are their Review for Religious instructors. Rather, they are typical students focused on complet-ing their studies and finding positions that fulfill their educational goals. The question of secure employment in the church, with its attendant concerns, is more of an issue with them, women and lay men alike, than gender issues. However, as justice issues, gender concerns remain for both instructors and students, now usually subsumed in the issues of the role of the layperson in the church. Women's Involvement in. Writing Canon Law Perhaps the most original activity that women have engaged in regarding canon law is the actual writing of legislation intended to be incorporated within the revised Code of Canon Law. Whether or not the canons made their way into the final text of the 1983 Code is not the point here. Rather, it is the activity itself, utterly newin the history of the church as far as I have been able to determine. How did this creative effort on the part of women begin? Sister M. Luke Tobin SL, president of the CMSW from 1964 to 1967, was invited in 1964 to be an official observer at the Vatican Council during the 1964 and 1965 sessions. This invitation itself indicated that the council fathers wanted the participation of women in the process of developing the church's self-understand-ing in the modern world?8 The law of the church, canon law, needed to express this new self-understanding ,as well. In the United States, women religious felt that their experience of their own lives as women religious was an important contribution towards an appropriately revised Code of Canon Law. This activ-ity would engage many of the members of the CMSW during the late 1960s and the 1970s. The board of CMSW began in 1965 to consider writing the regulations for ~governing the lives of women religious in the Code of Canon Law)9 It initiated a project for accomplishing this. Committees were formed in the several regions to write proposed canons dealing with the various aspects of religious life: the vows, authority, community life, formation, apostolate, prayer, and so forth. At the annual conventions of the CMSW from 1967 to 1971, the committees gave reports about the progress of their work. Eventually the conference published a document containing the proposed norms. It received a wide distribution in this country May-June 1999 275 276 Range ¯ Women and Canon Law and abroad, going to all the religious congregations and to the bishops.4° As this endeavor continued, the confidence of the women grew; they recognized the possibilities of the project. Moreover, they sought assistance from canonical experts to assist them in this unique activity. The CLSA was instrumental in assisting the various committees in this endeavor. Father Paul Boyle CP, a canon lawyer, was out-standing in his leadership in this area for women religious.4' Already as president of CLSA, he had communicated his vision of including women in the revision process. Later, as executive sec-retary, he increased his activity along this line. The recognition by the canonists of women's lack of education in canon law led to the establishment of summer institutes for a number of them. Certificates were earned and credit gained for these educa-tional endeavors. Father Kevin O'Rourke OP assumed the respon-sibility for these institutes by sponsoring them, developing them, enlisting the faculty for them, and negotiating their locations. They were held in different Catholic colleges in the country. A number of the graduates of these programs later completed their education in canon law at pontifical schools of canon law. Besides this educational assistance, the CLSA, following Paul VI's Ecdesiae sanctae (1966) implementing the conciliar document Perfectae caritatis, developed institutes to assist women religious in managing the process of renewal in their congregations. Pope Paul's decree instructed communities to hold general chapters to write their constitutions and to somehow engage the entire con-gregation in that effort. Experimentation, too, was mandated. Experimentation and writing canonical documents were some-thing for which most religious communities needed assistance. These endeavors of the CLSA were empowering experiences for the women and their religious communities. Hitherto the women were by and large ignorant of canon law and canonical procedures. They were, however, well-educated, intelligent, competent leaders within their religious congregations and deeply committed to the renewal that the church had mandated. The assistance of the CLSA empowered them and many other women in their congregations. Enthusiasm to recover the origins of their congregations, to learn about the remarkable women who had founded them, to encounter the Word of God through a knowledge of the Scriptures, and to assess the needs of the world through a study of the "signs of the times" generated an enormous energy within these communities.42 Review for Religious The results of this monumental effort have not yet been com-pletely assessed. Many studies today record it, some positively, other negatively, but it is still too close chronologically for it to be judged adequately.43 The energy, however, remains within reli-gious communities, smaller and older though they may be. Initiatives in forming new kinds of religious communities con-tinue in the church as well.** The renewal enterprise conducted among the CMSW, the reli-gious communities, and the CLSA is one of the finest stories to come out of the post-Vatican II Church. It included not only these organizations, but also the hierar-chy of the United States. There was an extraordinarydemonstra-tion of mutual encouragement and support among these diverse orga-nizations regarding the revision of the Code of Canon Law. The pos-sibility of participating together in the revision of the canons that governed the life of women reli-gious was realized through this " effort. The Conference of Major Superiors of Men (CMSM) was obviously interested in the same endeavor.4s The Canon Law Society of America responded to the announcement by Pope John XXIII as professional canon lawyers whose expertise was not sim-ply in the practice of law, but in developing it through the proposed revision process.46 These three organizations joined in this endeavor with an unusual demonstration of cooperation. Besides these, the bishops' conference in the United States became the conduit through which the efforts of the organiza-tions were channeled to the Pontifi(al Commission for the Revision of Canon Law, whose responsibility it was to finally formulate the revision. Communication among these organizations was full of enthusiasm and respect. There was no hint of competitiveness, no turf war, no condescension toward women, who were at that time uneducated as canon lawyers. What was desired from the women was the expression of their experience of their own lives and their reflection upon that experience. The mutuality of this common endeavor is one of the finest examples of how women and men can work together to accom- Experimentation and writing canonical documents were something for which most religious communities needed assistance. 277 May-.~une 1.o99 Range * Women and Canon Law plish something for the benefit of all. As the process of revision continued, difficulties emerged, of course. When the canonical text, the Code itself, and the communities' constitutions were finalized and promulgated, the energy that had informed the orig-inal process waned. The vitality of experimentation, of developing powerful and inspiring texts, of consulting all the members of communities in that effort, of creating a vocabulary that resonated with the language of the documents of Vatican II and with the pat-rimony of individual communities--all this vitality wound down as perhaps it inevitably had to after final, authoritative texts were promulgated. As rdigious communities developed their constitutions during these years, their experience shaped their identifies in a remarkable way. The expressions within many of these constitutions were utterly original as documents for identifying and regulating the lives of women religious. In the process of havin~ their constitu-tions reviewed, both the Congregation. for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life and the individ-ual congregations had much to learn. Although by now most of the problems have been resolved, there are still some communities that do not have their constitutions approved. This phenomenon bears the marks of the encounter between creative initiatives, orig-inal expressions of religious life, and traditional modes of canon-ical expression. The Code defines the constitutions of religious communities as' their particular law. The universal law within the Code presents the guidelines for the constitutions, but does not provide their content. Nevertheless,.the originality of many of these documents from religious communities presented new difficulties for both the congregations themselves and the Vatican officials, who had never seen such documents before. This encounter has been very instructive for all the institutions involved. With the promulgation of the revised Code of Canon Law in 1983 and with the finalization of their constitutions, women are no longer engaged in writing the law that regulates their lives. Periodically constitutions need to be resubmitted to the church for approval. Calls for change and for dispensations are part of the regular communication between the Vatican and women's con-gregations. But creativity and initiatives no longer inform the legal expressions of women religious. Extraordinary documents, though, still emerge from congregational meetings addressing the issues Review Jbr Religio~ts that women religious face at the end of the second millennium. How these documents influence the legally binding texts remains a question for the future. Past, Present, and Future This article has investigated the extraordinary entrance of women into a

Issue 62.3 of the Review for Religious, 2003. ; Holiness Religious Life Saintly Mentoring QUARTERLY 62.3 2003 . to God's Universal call tO ,holiness that flow from tbe~cbarisms of Catholic consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ° Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP 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 subscription rates. ©2003 Review for Religious. Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Adviso~7 Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Adrian Gaudin SC Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla sJ Miriam D. Ukeritis csJ QUARTERLY 62.3 2003 contents 230 holiness Be Holy as God Is Holy George A. Maloney SJ reflects on the holiness of God and our own holiness from the evidences of Scripture. 239 Praying with the Body: Not Running Ahead of Grace Rende Nienaber SND describes a number of ways to enter into prayer by involving our bodies. 251 religious life Prophetic Voice in Religious Life Elizabeth A. Dreyer reflects on two aspects of being a prophet--being an agent of change and living a contemplative existence--and issues a challenge to religious life. Review for Religious 269 Charism: Is Marketing Needed? Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR proposes a refinement in a religious congregation's method of research into its charism by examining its own continuing pastoral care and pastoral sensitivity in relation to the founder's. 287 John of the Cross's Message for Today Ernest E. Lark.in OCarm indicates how contemporary forms of contemplative prayer--centering prayer, Christian Meditation, and the Jesus Prayer--fit into John of the Cross's teaching on contemplation. 301 Catherine McAuley's Reliance on Providence Mary Judith O'Brien RSM examines the life of Catherine McAuley, foundress of the Sisters of Mercy, as an example of one who surrenders her whole being in trust to God. epar r en s 228 Prisms 316 Canonical Counsel: Effects of Departure 324 Book Reviews 62.3 2003 prisms A great gift of the four constitu-tions of the Second Vatican Council--on the church (Lumen gentium), on divine revelation (Dei verbum), on the sacred liturgy (Sacrosanctum concilium), and on the church in the modern world (Gaudium et spes)--is their readability and their applicability. The matters treated in them can continue to enhance our Catholic life. Whereas the Council of Trent in the 16th cen-tury was needed to put the church's own house in order (the Catholic reformation), Vatican Council II in the 20th century, identified as a pastoral council, looked to revitalizing our faith practice and our mis-sionary effort (Catholic renewal) as we became more fully engaged in the world we live in. We might describe Vatican II as addressing the problem of a distance many Catholics felt from a God in heaven, from Jesus Christ in their awed reverence toward the Blessed Sacrament, from the church in its authority, and from our world itself (b~cause it was "out there"). The church, too, often seemed "out there," embodied in pastors and bishops and encycli-cals that were not exactly us. Vatican II reminded Catholics that they belonged, that baptism made them "the people of God," with rights and responsibilities in the church. God's word in the Bible had sometimes seemed only a Protestant thing, or a Latin thing that priests preached about in English. Catholics were often more touched and uplifted by holy hours honoring the Sacred Heart and evening devotions in honor of Our Lady of Perpetual Help than they were by Mass and the various sacraments. The Mass in Latin had a Revie~ for Religious certain majesty and mystery within our small or large churches, but people attended at a distance, often deliberately towards the rear. Though we in the United States did not generally feel excluded or constrained in our parishes, when we now look back we see ourselves as having lived and learned our faith in a kind of ghetto outside the mainstream of our country. The four constitutions and the decrees of Vatican II changed our ways of thinking and acting. They called on all of us to take responsibility not only for our own adult faith lives, but also for the talent and improvement we can bring to national cultures and values and international ones as well. All our lives long we are being continually formed by the word of God and by God's providence in the events of our lives. In this way we come to know Jesus Christ better, as our Lord and Savior and also as our friend in the joys and difficulties of our lives. Baptized into Jesus' life, death, and resurrection and thus into his priesthood too, we share, with the ordained leadership of our bishops, priests, and deacons, in celebrating the Eucharist and the other sacraments. Our church looks on our world with neither fear nor disdain, but seeks to be involved hopefully and helpfully in its happiness and sorrows. Yes, Vatican II has increased the participation of many in all things Catholic. Now recent Roman documents dealing with liturgy, Eucharist, and devotions like the rosary have been issu-ing a call, recalling for us our human need of reverence in deal-ing with God and the things of God. Family love and friendship, yes, but overfamiliarity has less place in the family of God than in ordinary families. We are being reminded that, as well-loved creatures, we still need awe and reverence towards our Creator, and even towards the people in our lives, nearby and on the other side of the world. We are being called to the Trinitarian roots of our Catholic spirituality--a grand unity in an unfath-omable tension. In our relation to God and one another, we yearn to give and receive loving reverence, reverent love. David L. Fleming SJ 62.3 2003 holiness GEORGE A. MALONEY Be Holy as God Is Holy St. Paul, writing to the Ephesians, teaches these new Christians the essence of God's calling in Christ Jesus: Before the world was made, he chose us in Christ to be holy and spotless and to live through love in his pres-ence, determining that we should become his adopted children through Jesus Christ for his own kind pur-poses. (Ep 1:4-5) In all of the Old and New Testaments, we will not find any words to express, as the words holi-ness and holy do, the mystery of the perfection in the Trinitarian community of love and the mys-tery of God's will revealed through Jesus Christ: "to be holy and spodess and to live through love in his presence." It is sad that many Christians have never had a true scriptural meaning of holi-ness and what it means for us to be holy. George A. Ma]oney SJ last wrote for us in May-June 2002. His address is Contemplative Ministries; 13338 Del Monte Drive, #3-K; Seal Beach, California 90740. Revie~ for Religiou~ We need to ask God to show what holiness really means: his holiness first and then our own holiness. God's power can be seen and heard in nature, in lightning and thunder and rushing waters. But in describing God's holi-ness we are, in a way, trying to touch the "insideness" of God, the source of everything good and beautiful that we ever see or hear or feel. God's holiness is God in his per-fection as infinitely loving. Holiness is the totality of God's being moving outward as gift toward the other, toward human beings and angels. We read in the Book of Leviticus: For it is I, Yahweh, who am your God. You have been sanctified and have become holy because I am holy. Yes, it is I, Yahweh, who have brought you out of Egypt to be your God; you, therefore, must be holy because I am holy. (Lv 11:44-45) God Is Holy in Things and Places and Persons Moses fell back before the holiness of Yahweh in the burning bush. That was "holy ground" (Ex 3:4-6). God, who is holy, had chosen to be present to Moses in that place. No human hand was permitted to touch the Ark of the Covenant because God's holy presence was there. The Ark was kept in the Holy of Holies, a special place where God would communicate with his people. Yet, when for their sanctification God's holiness touches angels and human beings, he is present more perfectly to them. He enters upon a self-giving that allows us human beings to be sharers through love in his very own nature. This has always been God's purpose in creating us: "Be holy in all you do, since it is the Holy One who has called you. As ScripUare says: 'Be holy for I am holy'" (1 P 1:15-16). God calls us to receive his holiness and thereby to become holy too, opening ourselves to his outpouring 62.3 2003 Maloney ¯ Be Holy as God Is Holy We have no way of experiencing the fullness of God's holiness except in Jesus Christ. love, to his gift to us of himself and of our neighbor. We are called to be saints--holy people--sanctified by God's holiness (see Rm 1:7; 1 Co 1:2). "We have been called by God to be holy, not to be immoral" (1 Th 4:7). God chose us from the beginning to be holy by the sanctify-ing power of the Holy Spirit (2 Th 2:13) and to "become his adopted children through Jesus Christ" (Ep 1:5). Jesus is holy, and we too are called to be holy. We have no way of experiencing the fullness of God's holi-ness except in Jesus Christ. He teaches us about God's holiness, the actions of a loving Father concerned with all the details of our daily existence. Now we know what God's holiness is like. It is like the holi-ness of Jesus as recorded in the New Testament. Jesus' Holiness and His Growing Holiness The holiness of Jesus consisted first in his having been sanctified by the Holy Spirit. He was the gift of the Father through the Spirit. All that he had Jesus received from his Father. He could not act on his own, but only on what he received from his Father (Jn 5:19, 30; Jn 8:28). It is the Father who sent him into the world and consecrated him, making him holy in order to bring the holiness of God to the world (Jn 10:36). Jesus was sinless because he yielded to God's Holy Spirit within him and struggled against any urge toward self-centered independence (Heb 4:1). From the Synoptic Gospel accounts of Jesus' temptations, we realize, as essential to their meaning, that he had to struggle in his heart to reach the state of loving, humble submission to his Father that eventually would mean his ignominious Review for Religious death on the cross. Jesus would grow in holiness as he fought the Prince of Darkness for dominance, both in his own life and in the lives of those he healed of demonic possession. His struggle would end only on the cross, when he was lifted up and his adversary definitively thrown down from his throne and stripped of his power. From the New Testament we see that Jesus' increas-ing holiness is in accord with the Father's Spirit in him, giving him strength to unmask and defeat the devil. He seeks and confronts the evil one and conquers him. Jesus' Temptations The three temptations of Jesus in the desert empha-size his complete attachment to his Father. Jesus under-goes temptations--much like Eve's, the feminine side of all human beings--to seize the initiative in an aggres-siveness that would deny God's sovereignty over him. Jesus refused to feed himself with anything but God's word. "You must worship the Lord God, and serve him alone" (Dr 6:13, Lk 8). The Gospels present the peak of Jesus' holiness as an exodus experience. As he grew in holiness, he was tempted to hold on to his own life rather than surrender that life on behalf of sinful mankind. Imaging the Father's holiness in his own human development, Jesus grew in each event as he sought not his own but his Father's will. "Here I am! I am coming.to obey your will" (Heb 10:9). Jesus' holiness prompted him to a joyful response to do all that his human consciousness revealed to him as falling within the area of the Father's wish or even, more sensitively, what would please his Father more (Jn 8:29). Jesus suffers his most severe sense of abandonment on the cross when he cries out loudly to his Father: "My God, my God, why have you deserted me?" (Mk 15:34). In spite of his greatest temptation to doubt, in the seem-ing absence of the Father's loving approval, Jesus pushes 62.3 2003 Maloney ¯ Be Holy as God Is Holy himself to new depths of holiness and loving surrender. In such agony Jesus attains in his human condition the holiness of God. This is the crowning in human form of the Trinity's holiness, ultimate self-giving to mankind (through abandonment and death). Holy through the Holy Spirit Jesus at the Last Supper promised that he would pour out the holy and sanctifying Spirit after his death on the cross (Jn 14:16-21). If Jesus, by the Holy Spirit, is glo-rified by the Father and is able to bestow his sanctifying Spirit upon his believers through his final sufferings, it is no less also the Holy Spirit who effects the holiness of Jesus in the days and years of his earlier human development. We can see from the Gospel narrative of his baptism how Jesus, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, was led further toward full holiness by John the Baptist in the Jordan. As Jesus came out of the water, he received a vision of the Spirit as a gentle dove and heard his Father declare from on high: "You are my Son, the Beloved; my favor rests on you" (Mk 1:11). Jesus in his humanity is swept up into an ecstatic oneness with the Father. Heaven and earth have been closed by Adam's first sin in the garden. Now God's communicating pres-ence has passed through the barrier of sin, and Jesus, God's holiness, stands within the human family. Brightness and darkness are brought together in Jesus. The presence and sanctifying action of the Holy Spirit in the life of Jesus begins with Jesus' physical exis-tence. If Paul could appeal to the Corinthians' inner dig-nity because their bodies were holy--"Your body, you know, is the temple of the Holy Spirit" (1 Co 6:19)- how much more was this a living experience of Jesus in his body! Jesus was the most free human being that ever existed because the Spirit in him linked him with the Review for Religious Father in myriad ways. Seeing his Father in the materi-ality of his body and in the physical world around him, Jesus enjoyed a serenity and contentment in being there with the Father. Sin sets up a physical, psychical, and spiritual "ner-vousness" in us because it hinders our seeing the loving presence of God in these connections. Instead, sin inclines us to exploit them, as is evident in our abuse of our appetites for food, drink, sex, material and intellec-tual possession, honor--in a word, our pride of life. Finding the Father in All of Creation Jesus was free to find the Father's providential presence in all events and circumstances inasmuch as Jesus was continuously the expressed Word of the Father. In his humanity Jesus had spe-cial gratitude and love by rea-son of his Father's gift to him of intimate friends. He praised God in the gentle love he had for his mother, Mary, for Joseph, John, Mary and Martha, Peter and Andrew, and his other apostles and followers. Yet the freedom brought to him by God's Spirit gave Jesus an inner austerity in all of his human relationships. They were not merely gifts for him to use happily in glorifying the Father; they were diaphanous places in which to find the Father's love and then reciprocate that love by serving everyone he encountered. We cannot understand Jesus in his personal poverty and his preference for the physically, psychically, and spiritually poor people to whom he went and brought healing unless we enter into the conscious relationship Jesus knew that his Father's love for all people everywhere included full awareness of their absolute poverty. 62.3 2003 Maloney ¯ Be Holy as God Is Holy that Jesus entered as the Father's Word on earth. Jesus knew that his Father's love for all people everywhere included full awareness of their absolute poverty. We human beings are radical and ontological nonentities except for God's love poured out in unselfish creation. God is absolute love because he is perfectly holy and self-giving. Jesus' Poverty and Service of Others Jesus lived poorly, by the inner richness of his Father's continued gif~ of himself to him. This poverty can be called humility. Jesus was nothing; the Father was all. Jesus was absolutely poor because no thing possessed him. He was possessed only by his Father, and so he saw created things only as external indications of the inner emptiness of human beings before the Allness of his Father. Jesus served others because that is love in action. He was expressing in human ways the love of God the Father for them. The Father's compassion for his children was the source of Jesus' compassion for them. Jesus burned with desire to actualize the Father's presence in the life of everyone he met (Lk 12:49). He went about doing good, especially by healing all types of sickness and dis-ease. He was never more the perfect image of the heav-enly Father than when he saw the multitudes scattering and fainting like sheep without a shepherd and was moved with mercy and compassion (Mt 9:36). Jesus' Prayer Jesus' holiness is shown also in his prayer life. The Gospels give us much teaching by Jesus on how to pray, but they also give us nuanced pictures of Jesus at prayer. He prays to his Father in the company of his disciples, but also alone. The Evangelists have grasped the intrin-sic relation of Jesus' prayer and his holiness. From their descriptions of Jesus in prayerful communion with his Review for Religious Father, we see that his prayer is always linked with the coming of God's kingdom. Jesus usually prays in solitude, away from his disci-ples, deeply immersed for long periods, even all night. He seeks the face of his Father in praise and thanksgiv-ing, in petitions that follow from his desire that God's kingdom come. In such prayer Jesus touches the holi-ness of the Father and is filled with a like holiness that lives to serve the Father, his Abba. The Holy Spirit fills him with this filial trust in the holiness of his Father, and thus, from his constant experience of the Spirit, Jesus teaches others to pray to the Father in the Spirit, con-vinced that they would be granted everything they needed for their total happiness as the Father's children. Living in the Holy of Holies In awe of God's holiness, we are not to strive to be holy by doing "holy" deeds or works of holiness as though God needs us and our sacrifice. Rather, we are to obey the divine Word, enfleshed for love of us to image for us God's holiness, and to let ourselves be directed by his Holy Spirit within us. To enter into God's holiness, the place to go is our heart. By Jesus' incarnate oneness with us, by his death and resurrection and the gift of his Spirit, we now have the right to approach with boldness "into the sanctuary" by the blood of Jesus, our high priest. We have been saved by Jesus' gift of himself on the cross. Humbled by God's holiness revealed in Jesus Christ, we are enabled to be continually and joyously transformed into holiness as we seek to live lives of Christlike holiness. We are God's work of art, created in Christ Jesus "to live the good life as from the begin-ning he meant us to live it" (Ep 2:10). Now we can more easily, and in greater depth, understand how God's holi-ness makes it possible for God to be merciful towards 237 62.3 2003 Maloney * Be Holy as God Is Holy us. In our relationship with God and with others, holi-ness and mercy can never be separated. Father, Son, and Spirit: Holiness and Love Jesus is holy as his Father is holy because, in his dying on our behalf in obedience to his loving Father, his love for God reaches love's peak. He is holy by being one with God's holiness. He becomes God's holy Word in his obedience unto death (Ph 2:8). As Jesus became holy by learning obedience, so we also must do: "Although he was Son, he learned to obey through suffering; but, having been made perfect, he became for all who obey him the source of eternal sal-vation and was acclaimed by God with the title of high priest of the order ofMelchizedek" (Heb 5:8-10). When affliction comes, we are not to be constantly asking whether we accept the inevitable and submit to a will we cannot resist. Our true, loving question must be: Do we choose the will of God to be our chief good--do we delight in Christ's life principle as ours too? "My delight is to do your will, O God." Jesus sanctified himself and us by doing his Father's will constantly, to his life's end. The will of God is also our sanctification. Be holy, as God--Father, Son, and Holy Spirit--is holy. Summer Transformation August rays insinuate themselves, burrow under epidermal sheath like God's grace, work their transforming till, ripened and marked as sun votary, you preach wordlessly the gospel of repentance for a pale and chilly life. Patricia Schnapp RSM Review for Religious RENI~E NIENABER Praying with the Body: Not Running Ahead of Grace (/~("~'~ on't run ahead of grace." This truth, learned from one of my greatest teachers of prayer, insists that we can find holiness only as God grants. Even though passive prayer has often been considered the higher path, people who are highly sensate might stay in active prayer much of their lives. St. John of the Cross warns against moving too quickly from active prayer. For many, cooperating with this wisdom can involve using our bodies in prayer. Respect for God's Gifts Rationales for prayer with the body can be found in Scripture, theology, and psychology. Respect for the body. We are not pure spirits. Many heresies would have us look with disdain upon the body as the source of temptation. Within this masterpiece, however, the Spirit of God dwells. According to the creeds we profess, our bodies will, like Jesus Christ's, be raised in glory. Fundamental knowledge of God came Ren~e Nienaber SND wrote about lectio divina in our January-February 2002 issue. Her address is St. Mary of the Assumption Parish; 121 West Main Street; Alexandria, Kentucky 41001. 62.3 2003 Nienaber ¯ Praying with the Body A through our parents' bodies: a mother's gentle breast-feeding and a father's strong cradling. In many ways we already pray with our bodies: genuflecting, bowing, taking holy water, telling our rosary beads, making the sign of the cross, receiving Communion in our hands. Great people in the Hebrew Scriptures used their bodies in prayer: Miriam praising God with the timbrel, Moses praying with arms outstretched, and David dancing before the ark. The psalms especially show a people entering bodily into prayer: seeking God's face (27:8), thirsting for God (63:1), panting with open mouth (119:131). They also show a God who deals with the bodies of people, literally or metaphorically: leading them beside still waters (23:2), setting them high on a rock (27:5), hiding them under solicitous wings (63:8), making divine words sweet to the taste (119:103). No disdain for the human body in this kind of prayer! Hebrew prayer shows great respect for the human body's goodness, not the disdain espoused by Docetism, Gnosticism, Platonism, and Neoplatonism. Respect for the unity of body/soul/spirit. Such respect stands against dualism and moves us towards integration. Each part of this threefold "companionship" affects the others. Eastern religions teach that what we do with our bodies affects our prayer (for example, sitting straight and breathing attentively). We will pray better or worse, depending on the involvement of our bodies. If this is true, then we cannot find God by escaping the body. Respect for the incarnation and resurrection. Both of these doctrines involve Christ's body. His humanity belongs to the essence of our faith. Jesus prayed with his body: lifting his eyes to heaven and blessing little children. We, like him, will not find God by rejecting the body. Respect for the g~'eat commandment. Based on the Shema of the Hebrew Scriptures, our call is to love God with our Review for Religious whole self, with all of who we are, not just from our eyebrows up. In daily life we show love through our bodies: gestures, gifts, smiles, and so forth. God invites us to do the same in prayer. Respect for ourselves as images of a creative God. Praying with the body helps us to be playful like children. Childlikeness can keep the juices of prayer flowing. With the Spirit's gifts of wonder and awe, a child/adult can be ever ready for the surprises of God in prayer, like finding a treasure in a field. Respect for praying "from where we're at." Catholics are sacramental people. In part this means experiencing God as coming to us through the stuff of this earth. Prayer that begins with the body can penetrate into the inner self. Like osmosis, the senses can lead us from the exterior to the interior, from the touchable to the untouchable: the transcendent reality of God. Thus prayer involving the body can be a bridge from active to passive prayer. These two forms walk hand in hand, not against each other. To pray "from where we're at" also involves praying from "God experiences." Created reality invites us to pray with our bodies, as in John Denver's song about Annie filling up his senses. How often have we praised God with our eyes for an orange-red sunset, with our mouth for our favorite chocolate dessert, with our nose for the evergreen freshness,. With our ears for the ocean roar. God is the original "surround sound." We can get lost in ecstasy through such continuing revelations of the divine. Our call is to love God with our whole self, with all of who we are, not just from our eyebrows up. 62.3 2003 Nienaber ¯ Praying with the B~dy Blessings of Body Prayer Besides these six forms of respect, prayer with the body can be an antidote to one of the main complaints about prayer: that it is boring. God wants our prayer to bring us life "to the full" (In 10:10). Prayer helps us dispose ourselves. God is the initiator of prayer and the responder to our desires. We can, however, prepare ourselves for the gift of prayer with our very bodies. For example, with our eyes we can gaze lovingly upon a crucifix, icon, or sunrise. With our hands we can touch bur heart or ears. With our mouth we can smile at God or whisper words of Scripture. Prayer helps us keep attentive. Too ubiquitous is the temptation not to pray because "I'm too distracted" or "Nothing happens." Involving our bodies in prayer can lessen those excuses because the pray-er remains grounded. For example, in praying about Jesus healing the woman with a hemorrhage, we can involve our body in such ways as these: coming before Jesus trembling and hopeful, reaching out to touch his garment, or pleading with our face for the gift of God's healing. Prayer helps us remember blessings. When prayer remains too cerebral, the pray-er can seldom recall the experience of God's grace. Involving the body can help the mind to focus rather than flounder. The experience of prayer is crystallized, thus becoming a memento of God's goodness. Forty Possibilities for Praying with the Body ¯ Hold a rock and remember examples of God's steadfast love. ¯ Hold a rock and consider how God might want to change your heart. ¯ Hold a pearl and feel how precious you are to God. ¯ Hold a pearl and consider how much God is your pearl of great price. ¯ Hold a pearl and be grateful for all the pearls in your life (people, experiences, events). ¯ Hold a pillow to your chest, trying Review for Religious to experience God or Jesus as a nursing mother for yourself, someone in special need, or even an enemy. ¯ Hold two coins tightly, like the widow's mite, representing what you do not want to let go of. When ready, release each coin. ¯ Hold a small seed (like a mustard seed) and ask for growth in faith, confidence, love, etc. ° Hold a seashell and ask to be more aware of God's dwelling in the deepest chamber of your heart. ¯ Hold an apple and know yourself to be the apple of God's eye. ¯ Hold a cactus and flower and ask God to bring life to your dryness. ¯ Hold a "lily of the field" and know how much more valuable you are to God than that. ° Hold a crucifix to feel the gift of Jesus' self-giving love. ¯ Walk slowly, aware that you journey lovingly with God, like Adam in the garden. ¯ Walk, aware that God is at your right hand, so you have nothing to fear. ¯ Walk, aware of the challenge to go the "extra mile" with God or another. ¯ Walk under the stars and moon. Delight in God's greatness and beauty. ¯ Walk slowly, just to restore your inner harmony. ° Sit in a rocking chair or porch swing, and allow yourself to be lulled by God. ¯ Sit with your shoes off, with reverence, like Moses before the burning bush. ¯ Sit near a tree whose roots are partly exposed. Touch the roots and the bark and know your groundedness in God. ¯ Squeeze modeling clay to get in touch with God's desire to fashion you further. ¯ Form modeling clay into some specific image God might be forming you into now. ¯ Form modeling clay into the image you would like to have of God. ° Dance your personal Magnificat or Gloria. ¯ Dance your own DayenuI after writing a list of people and experiences for which you are grateful. ¯ Whistle, skip, or show your delight with God in other ways. ¯ Inhale slowly, realizing that your breath is the very ruah of God flowing through you. ° Inhale what you need from God (peace, forgiveness, etc.). Exhale the opposite (unrest, 62.3 2003 Nienaber ¯ Praying with the Body unforgiveness, etc.). ¯ Inhale, letting God speak a word of love. Exhale, returning that word. ¯ Inhale, simply breathing in the goodness of God. ¯ Sit in the breeze. Let it blow through you as the Spirit wills. ¯ Sit in the breeze. Just let it surround you with God's gende presence. ¯ Sit in the breeze or in front of a fan. Feel Jesus breathing the Holy Spirit into you. ¯ Prostrate yourself to get in touch with your littleness, sinfulness, or need for God. ¯ Lie face up, as if paralyzed, accepting your need for God at every moment. ¯ Smile at God and feel God's smile in return. ¯ Look in a mirror and delight in the person God has created, is creating, and will continue to create. ¯ Tighten your fist in confidence against your enemies or fears. ¯ Cup your hands to your ears to emphasize a willingness to listen to God. Be attentive to a storm, and let the reality of God's power penetrate your being. More Suggestions, Involving the Easter Symbols Water ¯ Drink very slowly, using this mantra or a similar one: "Give me to drink." ¯ Sit by flowing waters or running water, and let the sound bring God's calm. ¯ Splash water on yourself to bring God's refreshment. ¯ Sprinkle water freely on your head to experience that God does not give the Spirit "by measure." ¯ Enter into a soft rain. Experience in it God's gentle, abundant presence. ¯ Let rain remind you that God sends "rain on the just and unjust." ¯ Be attentive to a storm, and let the reality of God's power penetrate your being. ¯ Pour water over your feet as if Jesus were ministering to you. White Garment ¯ Be aware of your clothes next to your skin; sense that God touches you even more intimately. ¯ Wrap your hands in strips of cloth, like Review for Religious Lazarus. Let God unbind you. ¯ Place a sheet or blanket over your head to feel your own overshadowing by the Holy Spirit. ¯ Place a sheet or blanket around your shoulders and body to feel the protection of God's "wings." ¯ Move with a blanket around your shoulders and feel that you, too, can fly on eagle's wings. ¯ Touch a bedspread tassel, like touching Jesus' garment, while praying for healing like the woman with the hemorrhage. Light/Fire ¯ Squint and let the rays of a candle penetrate your heart or mind with healing. ¯ Hold a candle near your body to feel the warmth of God within. ¯ Let a flame represent the Spirit of God. Ask for wisdom in a present confusion. ° Let the candle flame open your eyes to see the good in someone whom you do not like right now. ¯ Sit wordlessly before the sunrise or sunset, and use a mantra such as "Fill me with your light." ¯ Walk in midday. As you see the sun peeking through the trees, think of God as winking at you. ¯ Pray in the dark of night with only a vigil light. ¯ Pray one of the biblical stories of a blind person. Do this in the dark or with your eyes tighdy covered. Hands/Oil ¯ Hold your own hand to get in touch with God's strength, comfort, nearness, etc. ¯ Touch your heart or carotid artery. Let every pulse be a prayer of love to God. ¯ Touch with your hands or Bible the parts of your body that need healing (for example, eyes for being judgmental, mouth for talking about others, ears for listening to gossip, etc.). ¯ "Anoint" yourself with oil in areas that need healing. ° Rub in scented lotion to remind yourself that you are to be the aroma of Christ. ¯ Pour oil on your feet, representing the feet of someone you need to forgive. Bread/Wine ¯ Hold a piece of bread or loaf of bread, asking, "Give me (us) this bread always." ¯ Hold different kinds of bread. Break them and get in touch with your brokenness and that of others. ¯ Hold a loaf of bread and 62.3 2003 Nienaber ¯ Pra~in~ with the Bod~ know that God will not give you a stone if you ask for bread. ¯ Take a clear glass of water and add red food coloring, representing the change at Cana and in yourself. ¯ Sip wine very slowly, letting it rest in your mouth. "Taste and see the goodness of the Lord." ¯ Sit in a grape arbor to pray the passage of the vine and branches. Two Extended Examples of Praying with the Body Psalm 23. Giv~ yourself plenty of time to enter into this beloved psalm. A day could easily be spent on it. If possible, pray Psalm 23 out of doors. The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want; I will never be in need; I lack notbing.--Try to feel how God has faithfully cared for you through people, events, and other blessings. I lie in green grass, verdant pastures, lush meadows.--If you can, lie down outside; otherwise, embrace the verdure in some physical way. For example, hug a leaf to your heart. Stand or sit, if possible, beneath the shade of a large tree. The shepherd leads me beside restful waters, peaceful streams, quiet pools.--If possible, go outside where you can be close to living waters. Otherwise, use a fountain or simply the faucet in your room. Spend time listening to the flow of the waters until you begin to feel calm. The shepherd refreshes my soul, revives my soul, restores my souL--To "help" the shepherd revive you, splash different parts of your body. The shepherd guides me in right paths, in paths of righteousness, in paths of virtue.--Walk slowly and mindfully, trying to feel the presence of the shepherd at your right hand. Even though I walk in a gloomy valley, a dark valley, the darkest valley . . . --Get in touch with any darkness in your life right now. Then close or cover your eyes and continue walking. With his rod and staff the shepherd gives me courage, Review for Religious comfort, security.--Use something to represent the "rod and staff" (like a broom handle or a walking stick). Walk, still in the darkness, with the safety of the walking stick. You could also sit with the handle against your back, trying to feel God's presence and comfort. You spread for me a table, a feast, a banquet.--Eat some of your favorite food. Yearn for the Eucharistic feast and the final banquet in God's reign. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows, runs over, brims oven--Use lotion to "anoint" your head, heart, gut, or any part of you that needs God's abundance. If you lack lotion, pour water on yourself, even on your head. Surely goodness and kindness, goodness and mercy, goodness and love, follow me always.--Con-clude as you began, getting in touch with God's abundance. This could involve returning to some significant ex-perience during this prayer, like listening to the water or pouring water on yourself. If you cannot fully accept this goodness that God promises, let God speak this verse to your heart. And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever, for my whole life long, for as long as I live.--Again get in touch with the presence of the shepherd in your past. Know that the same shepherd has blessed your life with this psalm in the present. Be assured that you can depend on this faithful shepherd throughout your future. Amen! Walk slowly and mindfully, trying to feel the presence of the shepherd at your right hand. The Song of Songs might be the backdrop for an extended date with Jesus--at least a whole day, perhaps a whole week of retreat. The suggestions that follow are 62.3 2003 Nienaber ¯ Praying with the Body geared for an extended length of time. They are intended to give numerous supporting ideas to the text, not specific suggestions on how to pray the Song of Songs itself. The setting. Bring in some favorite flowers and food. Play special love music between prayer times. Burn a fragrant candle or some incense. Anoint yourself with precious lotion. Dress in your favorite clothes. Getting started. Ask that you heart might be ravished. Ask to grow in desire for God; ask to know God's desire for you. Pray while lying on your bed, porch swing, or chaise lounge. Put something under your head to represent the lover's left hand there. During the day. Take a walk "hand in hand" with your Beloved. Sing/dance favorite love songs from your era; let Jesus sing back to you. Draw a mandala2 to express your love. Spend time looking into the eyes of the beloved, while the beloved gazes back at you. Whisper your words of love. Smile to your beloved. Mantra. "You are my Beloved in whom I am well pleased." Experience this mantra in different ways. See it in the beauty of the flowers. Taste it in your special food or drink. Feel it in the warmth of a candle. Smell it in the scent of incense. Touch it in your favorite clothes. Hear it in the music you play or sing. Journaling. Write your favorite names for Jesus and/or his for you. Write your own figures of speech for your beloved; write his for you. Compose a love letter to Jesus. Meal ideas. When you eat, think of being brought into your beloved's banqueting table. Eat slowly and linger after the meal. Eucharistic connection. Ask that your heart may burn within you as Jesus reveals himself in the breaking of the bread. When you receive from the cup, realize that you are drinking the wine of divine love. Fast for an extended period before Eucharist in order to enter more fully into communion, hunger more for God's loving presence, Review for Religious taste the divine goodness, and experience God's abundance. Other Suggestions Some psalms are particularly conducive to body prayer: Psalms 16:5-11; 23; 27; 63:1-8; 91; 131; 139:1-18; 150. Among the best Isaiah readings for prayer with the body are Isaiah 35:1-6; 40:29-31; 43:1-4; 49:14-16; 55:1- 13; 66:10-14a. Other excellent sensate passages from the prophets include Jeremiah 17:7-8; 18:1-6; Ezekiel 36:26- 27; 37:1-14. A sampling of helpful gospel passages: Matthew 5:13- 16; 6:25-34; 7:1-12; 14:22-33; Mark 4:35-41; 5:25-34; 8:22-26; 10:46-52; Luke 1:26-38; 5:3-10; John 2-1-11; 4:7-15; 11:38-44; 13:2-17; 15:1-11; 20:11-18; 20:19-23. The ideas offered here can be useful for running with grace, not ahead of it. They are useful for sensates as well as for intuitives who are developing their sensate function. Depending on the person's disposition, physical condition, and prayer setting, some suggestions will work and others will not. Many ideas listed here, however, have blessed my directees and me for many years. I trust that others who are willing to follow their own creative childlikeness will experience God profoundly in'body prayer. Although the kairos3 of a retreat setting works best, any place or time can be an occasion for the self-revelation of God in our ordinary lives. For centuries St. Paul has called us to use our bodies "for the glory of God" (1 Co 6:20). In our contemporary setting, Tilden Edwards (from the Shalem Institute) says, "Amazing things happen when our bodies join our minds in opening to God." Notes ~ Dayenu is a song from the Jewish Passover service. In it the refrain "that would have been enough" is a response to the abundance of God's 62.3 2003 Nienaber ¯ Praying with the Body blessings (for example, "If you had just fed us with manna from the desert, that would have been enough"). 2 Mandala is a Sanskrit word meaning circle or center. It is an ancient symbol of wholeness. Making a mandala (a circular drawing) is a way to come into contact with deeper wisdom from the center within, the unconscious. 3 Kairos is a Greek word meaning the "right time," a time of opportunity. It can suggest fulfillment or the timelessness of eternity, where God's presence abounds. Piet~ Her head is slightly bowed, the gravity of love bending her to him, his death a weight more ponderous than stone. Her hand is stretched out, helpless to account for what the world has come to. What does that open, lifted hand convey? Does it implore the mercy of a hidden God, or beg to know the outcome of a plan incomprehensible to her? Does her hand commend her Son to us and plead for pity, for consideration of his innocence, for justice? I see that hand outstretched for us to take, reminded that her suffering is much like ours: in pain she, too,. is plunged in silence, brokenhearted as she contemplates the loss of all she loves. Kate Martin OSC Review for Religious ELIZABETH A. DREYER Prophetic Voice in Religious Life The desert fathers and mothers had a tradition of going to their abba or amma for a "word" of wisdom. When I was asked to give this 150th-anniversary address, the word prophecy came immediately to mind. Prophecy has been a constant of religious life. Women and men reli-gious, speaking prophetic words, have be-queathed the church and society a legacy of reform and renewal. My interest in prophecy emerged from my reflection on moral courage, which it seemed to me is in rather short supply these days--in society, in business, in education, in politics, and in the church. The road from moral courage to prophecy is not a long one. Who could have predicted even a year or two ago the church's current need of prophetic voices? Numbers of people have seen the prophetic call as central to the charism of Elizabeth A. Dreyer, professor in the Department of Religious Studies of Fairfield University, first presented this paper in September 2002 to inaugurate the 150th year of the Sisters of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin in Petersham, Massachusetts. Her address is Department of Religious Studies; Fairfield University; Fairfield, Connecticut 06430. 62.3 2003 Dreyer * Prophetic Voice in Religious Life religious life.1 Though everyone in the church is called to a prophetic life, institutes of vowed religious have had a distinctive and notable prophetic role down through the ages. It is a challenge to speak of prophecy, for prophecy means spealdng in the name of God. Being a prophet is akin to falling in love: you cannot decide to be a prophet. Nor can you declare that you are one or even be sure that someone else truly is one. The whole business is rife with the dangers of egotism. But there is also danger in refusing to accept the gift of prophecy, in not praying for the courage to be a prophet, and in neglecting to support those around us who are prophets. Timidity and self-protection stem from the knowledge--whether conscious and unconscious--that prophetic activity is dangerous to one's health. And yet the Christian life calls us to learn about and imitate the prophets who have gone before us and on whose shoulders we stand. Our Jewish heritage includes an impressive list of prophets: Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Daniel, Hosea, Amos, Micah, and others. For Christians, John the Baptist, preparing the way for Jesus, is the prophetic model par excellence. But above all is Jesus, the Jew who fully embodied his tradition of prophetic compassion and courage, dying for his love of the outcast and the stranger, and confronting the religious status quo when it worked against the good of the people. More recently, interest in women's history has awakened us to the lives of prophetic women in the church. Historian Karen L. King notes that in every century women have exercised leadership in Christian communities and that their leadership has been contested. In the first centuries most of the clear cases of women's leadership "based their legitimacy on claims to prophetic experience," but Jo Ann McNamara suggests that, by the mid 3rd century, prophetic voices were overshadowed by Review for Religious clerical organization and leadership? At the Second Vatican Council, when Cardinal Suenens wanted to include in Lumen gentium a section on the share of every baptized person in Christ's prophetic office, Cardinal Ruffini argued that an emphasis on charism could endanger the institutional church.3 Happily today we look not only to John the Baptist and Paul but also to Mary, the mother of Jesus, Mary Magdalene, Phoebe, Priscilla, and Maximilla; martyrs Agatha, Lucy, Theodora, Perpetua and Felicity, and their 20th-century sisters Ita Ford, Maura Clarke, Jean Donovan, and Dorothy Kazel. Each community has its own list of prophetic figures. The Sisters of the Assumption have founding sisters Leocadie Bourgeois, Julie Heon, Mathilde Leduc, and Hedwige Buisson and later figures such as Alice Mignault and Marguerite Gauthier. More recent prophetic voices of women religious include Margaret Traxler (+2002), Theresa Kane, Mary Luke Tobin, Margaret Brennan, Anita Caspary, Mary Daniel Turner, and Joan Chittister. At this historical moment, how are we to think about the prophetic voice? What are its potentials and pitfalls? Endeavoring to be faithful to the gospel and God's reign on earth, how are we to support prophetic thinking and activity in the 21st century--for the health of each religious community, for religious life as a whole, for the church, society, and the world? As a laywoman I have been inspired by the prophetic lives of women religious. I have learned from your example, and I am privileged to stand with you and for you in your commitment to the life of the people of God. How are we to think about the prophetic voice? What are its potentials and pitfalls ? 62.3 2003 Dreyer * Prophetic Voice in Religious Life The Prophetic Vocation In an article on Hildegard of Bingen, Colman O'Dell describes the prophet's role as one of personal encounter.4 The prophet receives a special summons, an unforgettable experience that God has entrusted to her a message that she must reveal, either in words or by her very life. The prophet is one who yields herself to God as handmaid, witness, or sign. The summons can be to something dramatic and large scale or, for most of us, something ordinary and small scale, to be carried out over a long period of time. Thomas Merton describes the prophet as one who lives in direct submission to the Holy Spirit in order that, by her life, actions, and words, she may be a sign of God in the world. Jean Leclercq speaks of the prophet as a person of neither vague ideas nor ready-made solutions. Rather, prophets are the ones who by the vigor of their concepts and the intensity of their contemplation compel others to act, giving them worthy reason for doing so. Abraham Heschel describes the prophet as one who intensifies responsibility, who is impatient of excuse and contemptuous of pretense and self-pity, who is an exegete "of existence from a divine perspective." The prophet is one who is sensitive to evil and who feels fiercely,s In his classic 1978 work, The Prophetic Imagination, Walter Brueggemann sees prophecy as being concerned with change and how it comes about. The-prophetic task is to get people to have a perceptive consciousness that will stand against the dehumanizing and death-dealing aspects of our culture.6 Brueggemann describes the enemy of prophetic consciousness as Solomon's royal consciousness in which God's freedom is traded for God's accessibility, an economy of equality is traded for an economy of affluence, and a politics of justice is traded for a politics of oppression. The Solomonic regime silenced criticism through prohibition backed by heavy-handed sanction--or simply ignored it. In such a situation Revieva for Religious the gift of freedom is overtaken by a yearning for order and security.7 As Americans living in the aftermath of 9/11, we know well the seduction of royal consciousness. A prophet is one who understands language and its distinctive power to evoke newness--"fresh from the word.''8 Brueggemann speaks in terms of binary pairs of death and new life: numbness/criticism vs. energy/passion (compassion); death/cross vs. life/resurrection; grief/mourning vs. praise/joy. The prophet calls for an alternative consciousness and an alternative community. Forms of coercion and totalitarianism try to curtail fresh new possibilities and end up diminishing us as human beings. As a remedy, Brueggemann calls for a reappropriation of the biblical prophetic tradition to its full power and authenticity. The Hebrew prophets used poetry to present their vision and inspire listeners to respond. "It is the vocation of the prophet to keep alive the ministry of imagination, to keep on conjuring and proposing alternative futures to the single one the king wants to urge as the only thinkable one," Brueggemann says. He reminds us that worship and praise are ways to cut through ideology and recover compassion.9 Jo Ann McNamara concludes her massive treatment on the history of religious life with these words: "In the end, religious life is about worship and the positive benefits that worship brings to the world and its maker.''~° God is the creator of the world; we depend on God's loving compassion and power to make all things new. Praise of God is a wellspring of prophetic living. Discontinuity: Becoming Agents of Change In what follows I explore two particular elements of this prophetic way of living: discontinuity and contemplation. The prophetic voice interrupts "business as usual." It calls attention to, and says no to, the powers 62.3 2003 Dreyer ¯ Prophetic Voice in Religious Life The task of prophecy is to encourage people to be involved in the history of their time. of dehumanization wherever they may be. The prophet sees that the present arrangement need not always be so. This vision might apply to the way religious life is lived and structured, ways in which we think about and do ministry, ways that church structures and practice affect the people of God, ways we live as a society and as cifzens of the world. As I have said, the history of religious life reveals a steady stream of visionaries. One thinks of Jane Frances de Chantal, one of the first to question religious enclosure when it inhibited service in the world, and leaders of women's congregations in the mid 20th century who decided that education and worldly awareness would make sisters better teachers and better religious. Richarda Peters, Benedictine prioress in St. Joseph, Minnesota, from 1949 to 1961, encouraged her sisters to create study groups, earn academic degrees, update libraries, and subscribe to the New York Times. Her successor brought in television and encouraged the sisters to read Cardinal Suenens's The Nun in the World2~ The task of prgphecy is to encourage people to be involved in the history of their time. Brueggemann speaks about the visceral experience of waking up to the truth that things are not right. The light bulb goes on, and we wonder why we did not see that before. Pretending that things are fine is no longer an option. This awakening is often followed by feelings of disappointment, grief, and even betrayal. Bringing this hurt to public expression is an important step in dismantling the status quo and permitting a new reality, theological and social, to emerge.~2 Dorothee Soelle says that expressed complaint is the beginning of liberation.13 Review for Religious Prophetic agents of change live as if in a minefield. They may conjure up unwanted feelings of self-doubt: Who am I to demand and expect change? Most of us know that the risks are high. That prophets are not welcome in their own neighborhood is all too true. But, whether we ourselves are prophets or are attuned to those who are, the message can truly be "good news" to people. Even though the price is high, new vision energizes and creates new realities that can be trusted and relied upon. 14 Energy can even come from embracing the inscrutable darkness, trusting that something is on the move, even though I .may not see it.Is Waiting faithfully, with the anticipation of discovering a new way of being church, is prophetic activity. 16 We are also energized by the partisan nature of prophecy. Prophets do not function in the abstract, but always address persons in concrete historical situations. We become aware that God is free and acting for us in this moment, in this very community, in this geographic location. In the last thirty years, the extensive research on specific religious orders of women is gradually correcting past neglect, naming particular people and locations of prophetic activity in the history of religious life. 17 Looking at barriers to prophetic voice, Brueggemann examines the ways that satiation short-circuits passion. He reminds us that satiation--having too much and being full all the time--prevents our noticing that the king has no clothes. It dulls our capacity to be imaginative, caring, and passionate, to suffer, to live and die. We avoid facing up to failure; we shrink from the thought that there is an end to things as they have been. Consumerism tricks us into a false sense that "all is well." "The task of prophetic imagination," Brueggemann says, "is to cut through the numbness, to penetrate the self-deception, so that the God of endings is confessed as Lord." ~8 This is as true of the church as it is of society and the world. 62.3 2003 Dreyer ¯ Prophetic Voice in Religious Life The dehumanizing aspects of our consciousness and practice can be mitigated. They have no final claim on us. The despair created by the king leads to hopelessness, infecting those who are excluded and those who have everything. But prophets like Second Isaiah, attesting God's radical freedom, announce genuine novelty to exiled Israel: God could have a change of mind. Ironically, those who know this kind of prophetic dying most painfully are the very persons who can convey hope most vigorously. And, just as grief undoes numbness, amazement confounds despair. Amazement, says Brueggemann, is the ultimate energizer. With the prophet's help, Israel finds that singing is again possible. Song indicates new life. All of us can recall not being able to sing because of depression or anger, satiety or preoccupation--and then discovering that we could sing again. Thus hope is born, and whenever it happens we are amazed.19 Jesus, coming after John the Baptist, is also a prophet. He lives at the margins and interacts with other marginal people who respond with awe---~om the shepherds at the birth to the crowds pursuing him in Mark's Gospel. Jesus' compassion takes many forms: he is not afraid to criticize the old order, he is ready to heal and forgive, he invites people to freedom from their enslavements. Newness brea~ in because "Jesus had the capacity to give voice to the very hurt that had been muted." Suffering made audible and visible produces hope; articulated grief is the gate of newness. The history of Jesus is the history of entering into the pain and giving it voice.2° Standing at the decisive end of royal consciousness is the cross. The Way of Contemplation A second hallmark of prophetic voice is living a contemplative existence. Many theologians, including the well-known German Jesuit Karl Rahner, have made the Review for Religious plea that, if Christians are to survive into the future, they will have to become mystics in the world. I think our experience in the post-Vatican II church and in the postmodern world teaches us that mysticism and prophecy are not clashing symbols but interdependent requirements for gospel living. In antiquity, prophecy was considered a natural role for women, and in the early Corinthian community, for example, prophecy and prayer were closely linked.2~ Thus, we are not called to be mystics or activists but mystics and activists. Sandra Schneiders underlines this truth when she describes religious life as a prophetic life-form characterized by two linked realities--contemplative immediacy to God and social marginality. Indeed, she calls prophetic action the public face of mysticism.22 Genuine prophetic speech and action are grounded inholiness. Prophecy requires that one take time to attend to God's word. It demands singleness of purpose, what we used to call "purity of heart." It requires allowing oneself to be penetrated by the Spirit, thus gaining a certain freedom from external authorities. Authentic solitude and silent presence before God allow us to become "tuned in" to the ways of God and, out of this knowledge, to lament and speak a word of vision and hope to the church and to the poor. Genuine prayer helps us avoid making egregiously wrong projections in God's name, and this can be painful. To begin with, it is not easy to identify subde projections by which we make God into our own image, and when we do discover them it is difficult to let them go. Most of us are comfortable with the God we have experienced and imagined, but, unless we become freer to let God be God, we dare not venture into the world of prophetic utterance. God is the source and wellspring of prophetic life and mission, and only contemplation keeps us intimately attuned to God's voice.23 62.3 2003 Dreyer ¯ Prophetic Voice in Religious Life A hallmark of the mystical encounter is a sense of being at one with the world. This is an enjoyable experience and needs to be celebrated when it breaks into our consciousness. But often we do not allow this sense of cosmic unity to lead us to effective community living. How do epiphanies of connectedness lead us to prophetic voice on behalf of human community? The basic answer is that contemplative existence grounds prophetic activity. Generally, one doeg not speak a prophetic word out of the blue, even though prophetic speech has an element of spontaneity, like a "late-breaking news bulletin" from God. But, like a concert pianist's spontaneity and apparent effortlessness, prophecy depends on a life of paying attention to God in prayer. Genuine contemplation does not lead toward withdrawal or removal from the world, but just the opposite. The prophet is one who immerses herself in the joys and especially the sufferings of the world. Prophetic solidarity translates into acknowledging the truth of the present moment, however bleak it may seem. Prophets are "sent to participate humbly and fragilely in the darkness, to experience it as their own, but without losing heart." This faithful perseverance leads one to seek solutions and victory, but not to give up when failure is the outcome. Such a life requires both realism and deep spiritual reserves.24 The prophet identifies and gives voice to the sins of one's culture: consumerism, rampant individualism, fragmentation, and alienation. In her book Woman Strength: Modern Church, Modern Woman, Joan Chittister underlines the need for communal leadership against a rampantly individualistic culture. She calls for a spirituality of contemplative cocreation in which we look at the causes of social brokenness and begin to see the link between the personal and the political. "We need to intervene for one another," she says. "We need a new worldview that puts the old one 'in new light.'''25 Review for Religqous A simple way to enhance contemplation in the service of prophetic solidarity with the poor is to dwell within the words of the Hebrew prophets to see what they mean for us today. We begin by asking: Who were these people? What were the circumstances of their lives? What were their doubts and fears? How did they overcome them? How did they manage to love so much that they risked life and limb to speak the prophetic word? Abraham Heschel asks: "What gave them the strength to 'demythologize' precious certainties, to attack what was holy, to hurl blasphemies at priest and king, to stand up against all in the name of God?" He says they "must have been shattered by some cataclysmic experience in order to be able to shatter others." 26 In a 1997 article Brueggemann describes how the biblical text becomes newly available, how it can erupt into new usage and be seized upon to illuminate the present. This moment can be both personal and communal. He writes: "What has been tradition, hovering in dormancy, becomes available experience . In that utterance, the word does lead reality." In order for the prophetic word to remain ever new, someone has to have imagination and intuition and the courage to assert that texts from the past can and must be "concretely relocated in and specifically readdressed to contemporary contexts." Persons like this "permit the explosion of text whereby the world is transformed.''27 Meditating deeply on the following passages can lead us in such a direction. Listen, I groan under the burden of you, as a wagon creaks under a full load. (Am 2:13) You that turn justice upside down and bring righteousness to the ground, you that hate someone who brings the wrongdoer to court and loathe the one who speaks the whole truth: 62.3 2003 Dreyer ¯ Prophetic Voice in Reh~ious Life for all this, because you levy taxes on the poor. though you have built houses of hewn stone, you shall not live in them. (Am 5:7-11) Spare me the sound of your songs; I cannot endure the music of your lutes. Let justice roll like a river and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream." (Am 5:23-24) Come now, let us argue it out, says the Lord. Though your sins are scarlet, they may become white as snow; though they are dyed crimson, they may yet be like wool. (Is 1:18) The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light: Light has dawned upon them, dwellers in a land as dark as death. Thou hast increased their joy and given them great gladness; Hey rejoice in your presence as people rejoice at harvest. (Is 9:2-3) These and other prophets past and present inspire us to become more and more convinced that a "new word" and "new light" are possible in every age. We must be the ones to assume the responsibility to remind the church that no one has a corner on God's word and that we dare not put a period, where there should be a comma, when it comes to God's plan for creation. Prophetic voices are needed in a church that "disputes how women can image Christ; restricts rather than promotes women's preaching; rejects dialogue with feminist theology; refuses to discuss women's leadership roles in liturgical assemblies; takes Review for Religious punitive action against women's public speech on controversial issues; considers qualified women ineligible for administrative offices and prohibits gender-inclusive texts in its public prayer."~s The Madeleva Manifesto, issued in 2000 by a group of Catholic theologians, states: "To women in ministry and theological studies, we say: Reimagine what it means to be the whole body of Christ. The way things are now is not the design of God." Past and Future One aspect of celebrating and being grateful for the past involves cocking an eye toward the future. W'e ask how we can honor the memories, the dedication, the love and accomplishments of those who have gone before us. How do we extend their legacy into a new millennium? This is no easy task. The prophetic voice of women religious may be intended primarily for the church, but it extends to the wider faith and civic communities. There are many challenges in the American church, in religious life, and in our culture. But, amidst the plethora of problems, one thing remains clear: The prophet must be attuned to the cause of the poor and suffering and act on their behalf. This is the rock upon which we stand and which must weather the slings and arrows of both ecclesial and social existence. Words of support and challenge are in order. While all baptized Christians are called to find inspiration and truth in the message of the Bible, women religious are eminently equipped to do so. The Spirit must be allowed to empower and embolden you, to give you confidence to The prophet must be attuned to the cause of the poor and suffering and act on their behalf. 62.3 2003 Dreyer * Prophetic Voice in Religious Life interpret the signs of the times in light of the gospel and speak and act on this knowledge. Your lifestyle, your experience, your prayer, your dedication, your commitment to discernment, all this enables and propels you to live and speak and act in Christ's name. It benefits not only your communities, but also the church and the world. Your prophetic voices are needed. Confronting a sinful church begins in humility, in the awareness that the sin I protest resides firmly in the center of my own heart. The church has an ambiguous record on this front. She has always embraced the principle that reform must be a constant dynamic in the church, but has often shied away from embracing this truth in action. The renowned 20th-century theologian Paul Tillich noted that a major Protestant criticism of the Roman church is the "exclusion of the prophetic self-criticism" by an authoritarian system.29 Awareness of the beam in one's own eye prevents making condescending judgments about others. But we cannot stop there. We must love God and the world and the church enough to be willing to cry out against the arrogance, deceit, and secrecy that burden most heavily the poor, the oppressed, the person in the pew. The danger in a time such as ours is to get distracted and deflected from hearing the call to prophecy. It is appropriate to commission studies and to meet and talk about the alarming statistics on religious life--health, membership, age, finances. But these concerns cannot be allowed to turn you in on yourselves, instead of outward to the reform of the church and the alleviation of suffering in the world. And, while we may need time-outs to step back from the fray and regroup, we must not give in to the temptation to withdraw out of legitimate frustration and anger. We need to act as individuals and as a community, embracing the responsibility and the honor of being agents of new vision. We cannot leave it Review for Religious to clerical leaders or to those with stronger, louder, deeper voices. The church needs women religious to resist being co-opted by the clerical culture of power, privilege, and denial. We need you to protest tactics of intimidation and silencing. And we hope and pray that you will have the courage to withstand the suffering of not being welcome in your own country. The Spirit blows where it will (1 Co 12:8-11), and I find that it often blows in the lives of mature, dedicated women religious. We laypersons, who have so often been empowered by you, are called to join you in this much-needed prophetic ecclesial mission. The prophet speaks also to culture. As we move from despising and fleeing culture to a critical embrace of it, we cast a loving, compassionate, contemplative gaze on it and on all cultures. Because we stand within our culture, not outside it, we are both tainted by its sins and enriched by its creations and discoveries. In simplicity and courage we need to protest against arrogance, individualism, and consumer ways. By living and thinking on the margins, we must speak a word of love to the most desperate, despised, and forgotten among us. Since we cannot fight excessive individualism with more individualism, we are cailed to figure out how to act communally, to marshal our resources to witness to the Spirit's plan to make all things new. We are called to take a prophetic stance toward the rampant individualism of our culture by acknowledging our shared vulnerability, respecting and loving our differences and yet inviting others to dwell in community with us. Mary Grey pleads with us to "take the responsibility of becoming the kinds of communities which challenge society and live by a transforming ethic, communities which 'shine like stars' because they are offering the word of life." 30 She locates hope in the witness of the community as prophet. In the face of dwindling resources and aging, this kind of fidelity 62.3 2003 Dreyer ¯ Prophetic Voice in Religious Life to the mission, this showing up each and every day to do the Lord's work, is in itself a prophetic act of enormous value and goodness. The prophet is many things. To be open to and touched by this gift is to be honored with an invitation from God. It is also to be burdened with heavy responsibility, to be ripped open and rejected, scorned and ridiculed. For the point of the prophet's life is not primarily her own burdens, but those of a suffering world in desperate need of hope. The prophetic voice both disturbs and gives hope, and this requires keeping close touch with God's purifying presence, seeing oneself as lowly and humbly developing the skills of discernment and surrender. We are grateful for those who have gone before us, and we celebrate our membership in the communion of saints. We are linked by the desire arid the promise to be faithful to living a gospel life in each generation. The witness of our ancestors in the faith calls us to recommit ourselves to be Christians who dare to voice a prophetic word in our time, who dare to offer a word of hope from our experience that God is faithful, and who dare to hear and respond to the gospel invitation: "Come to me all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble of heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden light" (Mr 11:28-30). Notes ' See Sandra Schneiders [HM, Finding the Treasure: Locating Catholic Religious Life in a New Ecclesial and Cultural Context (New YorlotMahwah: Paulist Press, 2000) and Selling All: Commitment, Consecrated Celibacy, and Community in Catholic. Religious Life (New York/Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2001); Jo Ann Kay McNamara, Sisters in Arms: Catholic Nuns through Two Millennia (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1996); Nadine Foley, ed., ~ourney in Faith and Fidelity: Women Shaping Religious Life for a Renewed Church (New York: Continuum, 1999); Joan Chittister, The Fire in These Ashes: A Review for Religious Spirituality of Contemporary Religious Life (Kansas City: Sheed Ward, 1995) and Woman Strength: Modern Church, Modern Woman (London: Sheed and Ward, 1990); Barbara Fiand, Living the Vision: 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). 2 Karen L. King, "Prophetic Power and Women's Authority: The Case of the Gospel of Mary [Magdalene]," in Women Preachers and Prophets through Two Millennia of Christianity (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998), pp. 21 and 35. 3 See Mary Catherine Hilkert OP, Speaking with Authority: Catherine of Siena and the Voices of Women Today (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000, p. 43. Colman O'Dell, "Elizabeth of Schonau and Hildegard of Bingen; Prophets of the Lord," in Peace Weavers, ed. J.A. Nichols and L.T. Shank (Kalamazoo: Cistercian Publications, 1987), pp. 85-102. ~ Cited in Abraham Heschel, The Prophets: An Introduction (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1962), pp. 12ft. 6 Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic Imagination (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1976), p. 13. 7 Brueggemann, Prophetic Imagination, pp. 36-37. 8 Brueggemann, Prophetic Imagination, pp. 9-10. 9 Brueggemann, Prophetic Imagination, pp. 45 and 26-27. 10McNamara, Sisters in Arms, p. 637. ~ See With Hearts Expanded: Transformation in the Lives of Benedictine Women, St. Joseph, Minnesota, 1957-2000 by Evin Rademacher, Emmanuel Renner, Olivia Forster, and Carol Berg (St. Cloud: North Star Press, 2002), cited in History of Women Religious News and Notes 15, no. 1 (February 2002): 4. ,2 Brueggemann, Prophetic Imagination, pp. 20-21. ,3 Dorothee Soelle, Suffering, trans. Everett R. Kalin (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1975), pp. 70-76. ,4 Brueggemann, Prophetic Imagination, p. 23. ,s See Constance FitzGerald, "Impasse and the Dark Night," in Women's Spirituality: Resources for Christian Development (2nd ed.), ed. Joann Wolski Conn (New York/Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1996), pp. 410- 435. 16 Mary C. Grey, "Prophecy and Mysticism: The Heart of the Postmodern Church," Scot-fish Journal of Theology (1997): 53. 17 Recent examples include Dominicans at Home in a Young Nation: 1786-1865 (Chicago: Project OPUS); Women of the Vale: Perthville Josephites 1872-1972 by Marie Crowley (Melbourne: Spectrum Publications, 2000); Beyond the Adobe Wall: 1852-1894 by Patricia Jean 62.3 2003 Dreyer ¯ Prophetic Voice in Religious Life Manion SL (Independence, Missouri: Two Trails Press, 2002); Barbara Misner, The Living Love of Christ among Us: The History of the Sisters of Mercy of the Holy Cross, 3 vols. (privately printed by the Sisters of Mercy of the Holy Cross, 1999). An excellent listing of new books on religious life can be found in History of Women Religious: News and Notes, ed. Karen M. Kennelly (2311 South Lindbergh Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63131). ,8 Brueggeman, Prophetic Imagination, pp. 47 and 49. ,9 Brueggeman, Prophetic Imagination, pp. 69, 70, and 79 20 Brueggeman, Prophetic Imagination, p. 88. 21 See Antoinette Wire, The Corinthian Women Prophets (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993). 22 Schneiders, Finding the Treasure, pp. 137 and 150. 23 Schneiders, Finding the Treasure, p. 317. 24 Schneiders, Finding the Treasure, pp. 327 and 334-335. 2s Chittister, Woman Strength, pp. 69-70. z6 Heschel, Prophets, p. 12. 27 Walter Brueggemann, "Texts That Linger, Words That Explode," Theology Today 54, no. 2 (July 1997): 181 and 198. 2~ Hilkert, Speaking with Authority, pp. 2-3. 29 Paul Tillich, The Dynamics of Faith (New York: Harper,1957), p. 72. 30 Grey, "Prophecy and Mysticism," pp. 23 and 62. Sadness Today I embrace the air. The embodiment of heart and mind, .flesh and bone are gone. Too soon a (oraithlikefigure replaced reality l~aving only memories. Marcella LaKoske OP Review for Religious NIHAL ABEYASINGHA Charism: Is Marketing Needed? Ubnuti luenvdeer rs eslelsv eitns dfaibffreicr esnotf tneanmer etsh,r oouftgehno uwt iEthu rdoipf-e ferent bottles and different marketing strategies and sometimes even different formulas. Candy maker Mars no longer sells "Mars" bars in the United States; the same product is now called "Snickers Almond," and American "Milky Way" bars (same as ever) are sold in Europe as "Mars" bars. Such is the adaptability of mod-ern marketing. How, then, might one go about market-ing the productmor telling the story--of a religious institute's charismatic accomplishments and endeavors? This article argues that one needs to identify the project the founder launched (pastoral care) by identifying where his heart was (pastoral sensitivity). In particular, it deals with the Redemptorists, a congregation founded in 1732 and approved by the pope in 1749. Today's efforts to rediscover the charism of religious congregations often turn into an intellectual exercise-- doing meticulous historical research and then making the findings available to members through seminars, vis-its to places associated with the founder, and so forth. Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR writes again from the University of Kelaniya; 454/9 Piachaud Gardens; Kandy 20000; Sri Lanka. 1_9.KO~ 62.3 2003 But maybe a question asked by St. Bernard needs to be asked again: "What kind of concept could human beings have of God [in their mind] unless they first had an image of God in their heart?" This implies that people can have almost no idea of God in their mind until they first choose to love God through the image of him they find in their heart. Similarly, today's "bearers of the charism" need to examine whether their hearts are where their founder's heart was. I suggest that this would call for a refinement in the religious congregation's method of research into its charism. A Note on Method The historical method seeks to learn what the founders were thinking when they established their reli-gious institute. One arrives at the origins of that thought and traces its progress and completion. Whatever con-clusions are drawn are shown to have existed in some way in the founder's consciousness. That is a legitimate method of historical research. But, regarding a charism, I suggest that one is deal-ing with where the founder's heart was. The founder first has a commitment in his heart. It is only later that he emphasizes from the Christian memory and tradition what fits in with that commitment. The elements he highlights and puts together are never the total Christian vision. The founder in his insight is an artist, and a cri-terion of good artists is that they highlight some partic-ular thing in such a way that the "universal" shines forth more brightly. The founder did not first create a system of thought (a theory) and then fit his project into it. Rather, he first "fell in love" with the "project" in front of him. How? Why? Because he saw and experienced certain events in the world and their impact on his life as a Christian. He responded and witnessed to them. He invited others to join his project so that the witness could Review for Religious continue. I argue that the priority is the heart. The head follows, making sure that the heart ("Love is blind!") is not chasing after vanity. Rediscovering an historical fact or some perspective of a former era is a valid study in itself and a contribu-tion to knowledge, but, in matters of love and a tradition of love, the issues are different. One needs to keep alive today (in a world that has obviously changed) the story of a particular heartfelt response to events of a former era. Witnessing anew with-out changing the story is what is called for. The successive bearers of the charism do not have a different insight from the founder's. The present bearers of the charism have to love with the same insight. This is not primarily propositional truth or even a crys-tal- clear concept. This love produces a kind of feeling (or instinct or sixth sense) for the insight of the founder. It brings about a virtuous disposition such as "justness" (not justice) and "chasteness" (not chastity) bring to what is just and chaste. Ask any Redemptorist and he will tell you that the aim of the congregation is to preach the gospel to those who are pastorally "most abandoned" or most in need. That is propositional truth. After one or several of such groups are identified, ministry to them is made a prior-ity in each unit of the institute. But the crux of the mat-ter is what "insight" or "virtuous disposition" operates in regard to this target group. Is the agenda for action set by the target group where they actually are, in their iden-tity and reality as Christians, or from the textbooks of theology? In my opinion and that of several close asso- One needs to keep alive today the story of a particular heartfelt response to events of a former era. 62.3 2003 Abeyasingha * Charism ciates, there is something wanting in the textbook approach. It does not seem to have captured the imagi-nation either of the majority in the institute or of the people to whom its ministry is offered. So the question is: How does one identify the original insight, foster a love and feeling for that insight, and then put the "story" into practice in our own day? Alphonsus ahead of and behind His Time Alphonsus in some ways was ahead of his time. He anticipated, for example, the development of doctrine in the church and required the members of the institute to take a vow to defend the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin, before it was defined in 1854. But in some ways he was also falling behind, defending positions that do not have theological defend-ers today. Looking at matters in which Alphonsus fell behind may illustrate his "marketing" strategy. It came to me as something of a shock to read his refutation of a work of Dom Leoluca Rolli, a priest of Calabria, titled II Novello Progetto, o sia Dissertazione del buon uso delle Litanie, ed altre preghiere (The New Project, or Dissertation on the Good Use of the Litanies and Other Prayers).~ This was in 1775, and the Redemptorist congregation had been started in 1732. Mphonsus takes up basically three issues against Rolli: (1) the popular belief that house of the Mary was brought by angels to Loretto, (2) some titles used in regard to Mary in the Litany of Loretto, and (3) the singing or recitation of that litany before the Blessed Sacrament exposed. As regards the popular belief about the house of Loretto, Rolli considered it an account that runs like a fable. In his refutation Alphonsus refers to popes who said that the house was taken by the ministry of angels to Loretto. He goes on to say that the denial of this belief Review for Religious is common among Protestant authors, in contrast to Catholic authors. Obviously, in the view of the rational-ists of the time, the argument was weak. Today's theolo-gians would not set much store on Alphonsus's reasoning. Rolli thought the titles Tower of David, Tower of Ivory, and House of Gold used in the Litany of the Blessed Virgin were affectations, using words without adequate meaning. He thought that Mirror of .Justice, Refuge of Sinners, Morning Star, and Gate of Heaven were titles that should refer only to .Jesus. Alphonsus's refutation was simply that people in the church, including priests and religious, saw no problem with using this litany and that popes had approved it. He adds, "They are all [expres-sions] of piety and tenderness towards our holy queen, that we may trust the more in her protection." Rolli considered it an abuse to chant the Litany of the Blessed Virgin before the Blessed Sacrament exposed. Alphonsus admits that prayers should be directed to.Jesus our Savior, for he alone is absolutely necessary as a ~neans of salvation. But he goes on to say that others are nec-essary, not by a necessity of means, but by moral neces-sity, to help our confidence the more. "In this light, when we chant the Litany of the Blessed Virgin before the Blessed Sacrament exposed, Mary is asked to present our prayers to Jesus Christ.''2 The Sense of Alphonsus's Arguments Today the views of Rolli are commonly accepted. Should Alphonsus even at that time have seen some value in Rolli's opinions and conceded some probability to them? Why did he reject them without qualification? My short answer is that Alphonsus realized how impor-tant the Catholic sense of identity was at the time. He knew the importance of consciously "being different." His "pastoral care" was rooted in "pastoral sensitivity" for that sense of identity. 62.3 2003 Abeyasingba ~° Charism Priests, after spending years studying th6ology, tend to apply theological categories to pastoral situations with little sensitivity for the people's felt needs. Pastoral care involves sensitivity to the human situation, the sensitiv-ity of a shepherd leading his flock to pasture. That sen-sitivity raises questions. What instincts and heartfelt feelings of the people should he be careful not to offend, and why? What needs changing, and why? These are delicate questions. In the 18th century, the very things Rolli criticized were popularly held. Even the popes had reflected them in their writings. Rolli wanted to set those beliefs aside in the name of rationality. Alphonsus had a different con-cern. His stand was with the people, the majority. From that standpoint he would consider whether the "logic of reason" was a pastoral basis to eliminate those devotional titles and whether dropping them might leave a gap in the "logic of life." What would take their place? Would people feel at home in their faith without holding on to such devotional patterns? He concluded that eliminat-ing such popular piety would be pastorally harmful. I suggest that questions like these would have arisen as part of the "pastoral sensitivity" of Alphonsus. Such ques-tions are important today as well. In other words, peo-ple, their own perceived identity, and their felt needs--rather than the latest theological opinions-- should influence ministry agendas, especially the min-istries' points of insertion. In Alphonsus's day many people who were devoted to the traditional Litany of Loretto would have been unable to understand the principles of rationalism. Alphonsus probably understood them, or at least had the gifts of mind to understand them. The only ones at that time who rejected the traditional litany and even ridiculed it were Protestants. Alphonsus would have known that for him to reject such devotional formulations would be Review for Religious understood by many as encouraging, at least implicitly, some close rapport with Protestants. Alphonsus's view was that the people (including himself, a highly emo-tional Neapolitan) would not feel at home without the support (emotional and otherwise) of such devotions and prayers. That would confuse ordinary people. He had no adequate substitute to offer. It would have been like advocating email in Asia in the 1980s. Few Asians even knew of email's existence, and the infrastructure for it was not in place. In the 2000s the situation in Asia is dif-ferent. What Alphonsus hoped to achieve by his unquali-fied rejection of Rolli's ideas was a communication of truth (pastoral care) that would be attractive (pastoral sensitivity) to their sense of identity as individual believ-ers and as a community. He wanted to communicate, not pure speculative truth, but existential truth related to them as persons. Alphonsus wanted to touch ordinary people where they happened to be. To be touched in this way could turn out to be a moment of truth for peo-ple. Pastoral sensitivity finds a way to lead people to an encounter with truth. Truth has its way of cutting across the "lie" by which people sometimes try to live. The fol-lowing passage from a novel by Andrew Greeley explains what I mean. "Ellen's worst sin was against Ellen." Ellen is on her knees confessing to a priest named Kevin. Both of them have known each other for many years, and Kevin's family has assisted Ellen financially during a period of need. She says she has been away from the sacraments for ten years, and she lists her many sins. After she finishes, Kevin (who is the novel's narrator) speaks. "I'm still waiting for the real sin, the only sin," I said. 62.3 2003 Abeyasingba ¯ Charism She [Ellen] tilted her head. "I've told every-thing." "You haven't told the one important thing. You were mad at God and mad at the church and pretended for a long time you could get away from both." "I don't want to talk about it," she said. "Then no absolution," I said firmly. She tugged her hand to free it. I wasn't ¯ going to let it go. "Don't you have an ounce of compassion in that ice-cold soul of yours?" "If you want compassion, Ellen, go to your husband or have him recommend a psychia-trist who will listen sympathetically. If you want absolution, don't play games." She stopped tugging. We were quiet for a long time. "That's the only one that does matter, isn't it?" she said. "All right, Kevin, I'll say it, and you'll have to mop up the tears on this hard floor of yours. I blamed the church and God for things that were inside me and my family. I focused on all the ugly things and forgot about Father Conroy and Sister Caroline and first Communion and May crownings and High Club dances and midnight Mass and all those wonderful things that I love so much. I gave them all up because I was angry. I blamed the church for Tim's death. I loved him so much. I couldn't save him, and I thought the church should have saved him. Even when doing it, I knew I was wrong and that someday I'd be kneeling on the floor before you and pleading to be let back in." "And now you have done it," I said . She put her head against my knee and wept. Review for Religious Then she gathered herself together and said, "So Ellen's worst sin was against Ellen.-3 "Ellen's worst sin was against Ellen" is not humanism. A foundational element of Pope John Paul's teaching is that "man is the way of the church." But "man" must be understood in terms of the man, Jesus Christ. Salvation is when the individual lets Jesus Christ judge his life and values ("wanting absolu-tion"). Humanism is when people reformulate Jesus in their own image and like-ness ("playing games"). The former course is an expansion, an openness to the Infinite; the latter is a reduction of Jesus to the measure of one's own finiteness. The former is redemptive; the latter is ratio-nalization and self-justification: narcissism. I suggest that the former is where the charism of a religious institute is centered; the latter is what may be called "pastoral opportunism." Pastoral sensitivity varies according to differences in the charisms of various institutes. ¯ Playing Games or Wanting Absolution? "If you want compassion, go to your husband .I.f. you want absolution, don't play games." How true! How easily the two are confused! "Ellen's worst sin was against Ellen"--that is different. The enumeration of one's sins is an objective matter, but the moment of conversion is existential, the realization that "I have sinned. I will go back to my Father. That is¯ where I am at home; in fact, I have nowhere else to go" (see Lk 15:11-31). Human beings need saving. All creation shares in the salvation of the human. "Creation was made subject to futility, not of its own accord, but because of the one who subjected it in hope that creation itself would be set free from slav- 62.3 2003 Abeyasingba ¯ Charism ery to corruption and share in the glorious freedom of the children of God" (Rm 8:19-20). There is nothing wrong with compassion, but, in the perspective of absolution (existential salvation, redemp-tion today), there has to be more than compassion on the part of the pastor. The link between compassion and salvation is naming the game and discovering one's iden-tity in commitment and relationship to oneself, one's fellow human beings, and God. In the scene quoted above, Ellen has known Kevin for years and has experienced the generosity of his fam-ily. But as pastor he brings her to realize the injustice she is doing to herself. In that discovery and realization, she discovers the church community she has abandoned and God, who is present in that community. She sees that she is always welcome to the church and to the peo-ple and things she admits she loves: Father Conroy, Sister Caroline, May crownings, dances, and so forth. It is the entire mixture of ritual, imagery, and flesh-and-blood community that makes her feel at home. And yet we know that none of these are a hundred percent per-fect. Such is the church. What needs to be preserved for the individual in the church and for the church as a community is this feeling of being at home. In that setting people realize their true human and Christian identity. They do not blame the church and God "for things that were inside me and my family." Feeling at home does not mean complacency. To all--believers and unbelievers--the church must preach faith and conversion (see Sacrosanctum concilium, §9). Permitting people to "play games" and evade their call to conversion is not part of its mission. The Clarification of Pastoral Sensitivity Pastoral sensitivity varies according to differences in the charisms of various institutes. Is a given charism Review for Religious meant to function from the top down or from the bot-tom up? The top-down function is a way of exhibiting some transcendental value. Thus does a contemplative order bear witness to God's transcendence in any envi-ronment. In contrast, a charism that functions from the bottom up takes people where they are and leads them higher. Alphonsus's charism is certainly bottom-up. Redemptorist pastoral sensitivity, therefore, must be alert to where people actually are and concerned with them in their situation. The concrete situation determines the charism's "point of insertion" and the subsequent agenda. Does theology have a role in this agenda, and, if so, what is that role? First, it needs to be said that what unites the Christian community is faith, not theology. Pastoral care, first and foremost, contributes to growth in faith. Pastoral care is an art, discerning how faith func-tions in this person and this situation and then doing with skill whatever contributes to the growth of that faith. Theology, of course, does have a role in pastoral care. Years of formation in the science of theology provide principles for the art of pastoral care. Theology states and clarifies the goal of the Christian journey. Newman says: "Theology begins, as its name denotes, not with any sensible facts, phenomena, or results, not with nature at all, but with the Author of nature--with the one invis-ible, unapproachable Cause and Source of all things. It begins at the other end of knowledge, and is occupied, not with the finite, but the Infinite. It unfolds and sys-tematizes what he himself has told us of himself; of his nature, his attributes, his will, and his acts.''4 In this pro-cess of theology, logic is important, but, as Newman says, "logic does not really prove; it enables us to join issue with others; it suggests ideas; it opens views; it maps out for us the lines of thought; it verifies nega-tively; it determines when differences of opinions are 62.3 2003 Abeyasingha ¯ Charism Pastoral care is not a matter of saying and doing what pleases the majority. hopeless; and when and how far conclusions are proba-ble; but for genuine proof in concrete matter we require an organon more delicate, versatile, and elastic than ver-bal argumentation.''s Theology and pastoral care can enrich each other, but how does that work? In pastoral care the starting point is the finite: this individual, this situation. More than strict logic, there needs to be a "clinical sense." What "symptoms" does one perceive? Are there inter-connections? What is the diagnosis, and what treatments are possible? What treatment seems best? How is faith func-tioning here? What prin-ciples operate, however obscured they may be by seeming illogicality? Pas-toral care, in this perspective, is art and poetry. Artists have "insights" and then present them, using the best subject matter and materials and techniques known to them. In their presentations the artists and their glimpses and visions (all finite) that were the starting point rec-ognize themselves as called to grow towards the Infinite. What Rolli glimpsed in the Litany of Loretto were defects--they were indeed defects in the light of a the-ology influenced by rationalism. His solution was to eliminate them. The consequences of doing so were not his concern. I would suggest that Alphonsus's pastoral insight was that he saw how God operated and how pop-ular piety, defective though it was, was indeed express-ing faith in God. His pastoral sensitivity saw the danger of eliminating without substituting. He saw the possi-bility of initiating growth from "within." Pastoral care is not a matter of saying and doing what pleases the majority. That would be pastoral oppor- Review for Religious tunism. Pastoral care leads to an encounter with truth. Hence it is the pastor's function to uncover the truth that exists in what people do and then lead them beyond it. There is truth even in the fables, myths, and legends of popular piety. As Newman says, "fables are economies or accommodations, being truths and principles cast into that form in which they will be most vividly recognized; ¯. Again, mythical representations, at least in their bet-ter form, may be considered facts or narratives, untrue, but like the truth, intended to bring out the action of some principle, point of character, and the like. For instance, the tradition that St. Ignatius [of Antioch] was the child whom our Lord took in his arms, may be unfounded; but it realizes to us his special relation to Christ and his apostles, with a keenness peculiar to itself. The same remark may be made upon certain narratives of martyrdoms, or of the details of such narratives, or of certain alleged miracles, or heroic acts, or speeches, all of which are the spontaneous produce of religious feel-ing under imperfect knowledge. If the alleged facts did not occur, they ought to have occurred (if I may so speak); they are such as might have occurred, and would have occurred, under circumstances . Many a theory or view of things, on which an institution is founded, or a party held together, is of the same kind.''6 Acknowledging Identity in Affirmation of Difference At no point does Alphonsus say that the truth of the fables of popular piety are truths of faith or that they are the core of Christian faith. Alphonsus was clear in his own theological principles. He asserted that Jesus is the only mediator necessary by necessity of means¯ But he also knew that, in actual day-to-day living, people accepted other mediators as well, and so he speaks of them as a moral necessity. In the sphere of religion, Maryi_9.tLl__ 62.3 2003 Abeyasingba ¯ Charism is a secondary mediator. That was the situation--as it stood with its imperfect and accommodated knowledge. As pastor he would present a picture of Mary and the saints as mediators on a different level from Jesus. He would insist that her primary function is to lead us to Jesus. On a secondary level she helps us in our imperfect situation by presenting our prayers to Jesus, increasing our confidence, and so forth. Alphonsus recognized that Catholic identity at that time included being different from Protestants and ratio-nalists. At that time Catholics honored Mary in ways that could be assessed rationally as exaggerated and imperfect--and which brought on ridicule from Protestants and rationalists. To seem to condone their ridicule would lessen their identity (their "being differ-ent") and tantamount to joining them. It was part of Catholic identity, of feeling at home, to retain the devo-tion as it was traditionally practiced. Alphonsus therefore rejects the rational and theologically assimilable posi-tions of Rolli. (Today Rolli's views are part of the Catholic tradition and Catholic identity. It was not so in the 18th century, and could not have been.) Alphonsus had to deal with the theological doctrine that acts of devotion performed by one who was not in the state of grace did not avail for salvation. He could not deny this; it was the common doctrine. So he searched at the human level for the benefits of such devotion. He says (with Thomas Aquinas and Robert Bellarmine) that, although such acts of devotion do not in themselves jus-tify, they at least dispose sinners to obtain justification through the merits of Mary and the saints. He points out at least three possible benefits that could accrue to sinners from such devotion: making them accustomed to good works, obtaining for them temporal favors, and disposing them to receive grace. In other words, sinners who practice devotion to Mary have a better chance of Review for Religious cooperating with grace and being justified than sinners who do not have such devotion. Acknowledging Identity and Moving Forward For Alphonsus, acknowledging identity through dif-ference was the beginning, not the end, of pastoral care. He wished to lead people to deeper understanding of their faith, but always worked first on their hearts, their emotions. His Glories of Mary is a com-mentary on the "Hail Holy Queen," a prayer that ratio-nalists ridiculed. That prayer gave him a framework for his pastoral strategy. He was not merely justifying popular devotion to Mary, but also inserting elements that would help the pray-er grow in faith. As Alphonsus saw it, the prayer combined contrasts (queen/mother; life/banished children). It abounded with words that evoke intense emotion. The climax of the prayer is an accurate theological description of what Christian life is: "After this our exile, show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus." He makes Jesus the final goal of conversion. Until that goal is reached, even the slightest devotion to Mary, if carried through with perse-verance, gives the sinner hope. She becomes his patron, and exalted patronage was a well-known practice. In The Glories of Mary, Alphonsus takes the "Hail, Holy Queen" as it is and plays on the contrasts that are brought together in addressing Mary. "Queen" evokes power, while "mother" evokes love. Mary nurtures "life," even though our lives are precarious because of the ban-ishment caused by sin. These contrasts do not hold For Alphonsus, acknowledging identity through difference was the beginning, not the end, of pastoral care. 62.3 2003 Abeyasingba * Charism together in ordinary life. As sinners look to Mary as mother, affections of love, tenderness, and confidence are bound to override those of fear, dread, and punishment associated with "queen." Gradually people, especially the sinful and the desperate, would feel themselves more com-fortable and at home with the softer images (mother, life) rather than the harsher ones (power, banishment). His writing style is not pedantic; it is popular. He persuades, he encourages, he appeals. He repeats and exaggerates. He points out the benefits of simple acts (such as reciting a "Hail, Mary" every day) even for peo-ple who have not broken with their life of sin. He knows that the people he is writing for are an emotional peo-ple. He tries to bring reason to bear on their emotions. He does this by channeling their emotions towards two goals, sorrow and love. After reminding readers that God has done much by giving them Mary to be their mother, he asks what they have done. In various ways they have rejected her, and so they are called to sorrow and repen-tance and to expressing grateful love to God and to his mother, God's gift to them. The argument is not spec-ulative. It is an effort to have right reason (in the form of practical repentance and love) control any exagger-ated emotion in Marian devotion. Alphonsus provides a range of imagery drawn from people's ordinary life: Mary as midwife, shepherdess, and advocate. Such imagery is found even more in his poems, songs, and paintings. People could choose whatever image suited them, but, no matter what they chose, each image was mediatory, with Mary between the people and Jesus. Mary was the bridge. The Vatican's "Directory on Popular Piety and the Liturgy" (2002) treats devotion to Mary much as Alphonsus did.7 Alphonsus's expression is more laden with emotion. He wanted to lead people on a journey on which they would become attached to Christ in love. In "mar- Review for Religious keting" Alphonsus's insight, in bringing his Catholic charism to people of today, pastoral sensitivity needs to start where they are--start with what they consider their identity--and then, in the exercise of pastoral care, move them beyond it. This would be marketing, under a new and different label and brand name, the same product as Alphonsus "marketed" in his day. Is this "marketing" idea likely to convince the bearers of the Alphonsian charism today and to "work" for the people to whom their min-istry extends? A trial run may be worthwhile. I suggest that this approach is not altogether a "dream." A recent biography of Andrei Sakharov shows his journey from being a scientist who supported the Soviet system to being a spokesman for human rights.8 As a scientist he asked questions about physical nature and tested hypotheses, looking for reliable evidence. As a Russian he "believed that the Soviet state represented a breakthrough into the future." When he saw the deaths caused by the radioactive fallout from the tests he directed in 1955, he began to ask questions about politics the same way he had always asked questions about physical nature. This approach quickly made him a dissident. The rest of his life is too well known for repetition here. It was not a head-on attack on his ideology that changed him. The point of change was his own training, in which he was at home. At that point something new inserted itself: the deaths caused by his own experiments. This is a moral parable of change from within, somebne moving from the laboratory into action in the public arena, experiencing a martyrdom (witnessing and suffering), and "rising again." Can the charism of a religious institute function to effect change from within, meeting people where they are and progressing from there? Perhaps it can. That is the hope implied in being pastorally sensitive (to where people's hearts are) before striving to inculcate deeper and truer propositional knowledge. 62.3 2003 Abeyasingba ¯ Charism Notes ' Alphonsus Maria de Liguori, Breve rispbsta alla stravagante riforma intentata dall'abbate Rolli contraria alia piet~ dovuta verso la divina Madre (written in 1775). http:// 2 It is interesting that the Congregations for Divine Worship and the Sacraments, "Directory on Popular Piety and the Liturgy: Principles and Guidelines" (9 April 2002), §165, states that, in the adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, the faithful ought to be "encour-aged to use the Scriptures" and "suitable hymns and prayers" and spend some time in "silent prayer and reflection. Thus they will grad-ually get the idea that they ought not use devotional practices in honor of the Virgin Mary and the saints during exposition of the Blessed Sacrament. Given Mary's close relationship with Christ, however, the rosary, with its meditation on the mysteries of the incarnation and redemption, could help give the prayer a Christological orientation." Here I seem to detect that, although praying the rosary during ado-ration of the Blessed Sacrament is not rejected, neither is it considered the ideal. It seems to be considered an accommodation ("pastoral sen-sitivity") to where people are, with a view to leading them beyond it (with "pastoral care"). The burden of this article is to set the charism of an apostolically oriented religious institute in this perspective. 3 Andrew M. Greeley, The Cardinal Sins (New York: Warner Books, 1981), pp. 208-210. 4John Henry Newman, "Christianity and Physical Science," in The ldea of a University (Garden City: Doubleday Image, 1959), p. 395. s John Henry Newman, A Grammar of Assent (Garden City: Doubleday Image, 1955), chap. 8, p. 217. 6 John Henry Newman, "The Theory of Developments in Religious Doctrine" (Sermon XV, Preached on the Purification, 1843), in Newman's University Sermons: FiJ%en Sermons Preached before the University of Oxford, 1826-43 (London: SPCK, 1970), §35. 7 "Popular devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary is an important and universal ecclesial phenomenon. Its expressions are multifarious and its motivation is very profound, deriving as it does from the People of God's faith in, and love for, Christ the Redeemer of the human race and from an awareness of the salvific mission that God entrusted to Mary of Nazareth, because of which she is mother not only of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, but also of all people in the order of grace" (§183). 8 Richard Lourie, Sakbarov: A Biography (Hanover, New Hampshire: Brandeis University Press, 2002). Review for Religious ERNEST E. LARKIN John of the Cross's Message for Today The focus of St. John of the Cross is the call to contemplation. Vatican Council ~I left no doubt about the universal call to holiness; the clergy, the laity, and religious are all called to the same high degree of union with God. John of the Cross locates that perfection in contemplation. Vatican II emphasized life in this world. It called Christians out of the ghetto and into the mainstream of worldly existence. Lay people particularly were to work for the betterment of humanity through science, politics, education, economics, and the professions. Such work is part of the Christian vocation; moreover, for Christians the motivation and animation for doing the work is the same in the marketplace and the family as it is in the cloister. The source is a loving relationship with the Trinity. This is the holiness at the heart of every vocation. Call it love, call it contemplation--it is the same Ernest E. Larkin OCarm wrote "Desert Spirituality" for our JuDy-August 2002 issue. His address remains Kino Institute; 1224 East Northern; Phoenix, Arizona 85020. 62.3 2003 biblical reality of "knowing .you, the only true God, and him whom you have sent, Jesus Christ" (Jn 17:3) or, in another formulation, "knowing Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship in his sufferings" (Ph 3:10). It is loving knowledge, for contemplation is knowledge by way of love. It is what St. Th~r~se called her vocation, to be "love at the heart of the church." In the lapidary formula of St. Paul, contemplation is the excellence of "faith expressing itself through love" (Ga 5:6). Contemplative prayer and contemplation are no longer to be seen as the domain of an elitist group. People in all sectors of church life and lay life are claiming their birthright and practicing contemplative prayer every day. John of the Cross can be their guide. In this paper I want to indicate how contemporary forms of contemplative prayer, specifically centering prayer and Christian Meditation, and the Jesus Prayer, fit into John's synthesis. I will first present a sketch of his teaching on the beginnings of contemplation and then relate this doctrine to the contemporary movements. Contemplation, according to John of the Cross Faith as "the only proximate and proportionate means to union with God" runs like a mantra through the works of John of the Cross. Loving faith, shown in word and deed, is the only road to God. Every act of faith, however small, is a ray of light piercing the darkness in one's consciousness. It is the light of Christ shining through. By acts of faith we let Christ in, we allow the Spirit to form Christ in our very being. Of course, he is always there in the depths of our spirit, in "the innermost chamber of our inner castle, the unscathed center of our being, where only the true God dwells.''~ But he is dormant there until we awaken him through activated faith. Our individual, discrete acts of faith are like the dots of light on a television screen. Multiply them, and the Review for Religious screen is fully illuminated. The soul is like the television screen: on it the dots of faith coalesce to form the image of Christ, fulfilling the words of St. Paul: "I live now, no longer I, Christ lives in me." Thus are we configured to Christ. The rest of the quotation is equally important: "I still have my human life, but it is a life of faith in the Son of God" (Ga 2:20). Our faith life brings purity of heart, the condition for this configuration. We are pure of heart to the extent that we live by faith. Purity of heart is not just chastity; it is all the virtues ordered and integrated in our being, giving us an openness to the indwelling God. In early stages God meets us in our rational minds, in our disparate thoughts and image~ and will acts. These are so many actual graces. When purity of heart is more perfect, we enter more deeply into ourselves at the spirit level where God reveals himself in a certain wholeness--in contemplation. "Blessed are the pure of heart, they shall see God." "Seeing God" occurs in holy thoughts and desires and more fully in contemplation. The metaphor in John of the Cross that corresponds to the television screen is the window pane that lets in the sun. When the window is clean, the sun comes through without any obstruction: the sun and the glass are like one same thing (Ascent 2.5.6). This is a beautiful image of purity of heart, of the entry of God. When all our desires are ordered by faith, we are transparent to God's indwelling. At first God comes to us in images and concepts, facsimiles and metaphors. When the soul is truly pure, that is to say, when it is free and detached and faith-filled, God comes in contemplation as Gracious Mystery, in his inscrutable reality. Our response then is We are pure of heart to the extent that we live by faith. 62.3 2003 Larkin ¯ John of the Cross's Message for Today simply a yes to this gift, resting in the presence, experiencing communion. Communion (koinonia, communio) is being one with God by participation in a unitive, nondualistic experience. Contemplation is the experience of communion. The experience of contemplation is ineffable: it cannot be put into words. We can have feelings about God, and they are sensible consolations or spiritual affections. Feelings are resonances of the experience of God. They are moments of enthusiasm or dis-couragement, joy or sorrow. They are secondary and accidental to the basic contemplative experience of presence and communion, which is incommunicable. The contact with God is the original experience of the theological virtues, whereas the emotional or spiritual resonances are the overflow. Often we have no assurance that we are experiencing the presence of God in contemplation other than blind faith. Feelings are ambiguous and need to be discerned. The act of contemplation is a return to the subject, a turning back on one's self in faith and love. It is moving from the Christ for us, who is objective and out in front of us, so to speak, to the Christ within us, who has become one with us. Thus contemplation is resting in the fruit of one's labor and search; it is the fruition of one's new, transformed self. The whole process is "putting on the Lord Jesus Christ," which begins with one's desires, purifying old ones and developing new ones one by one, and ends in the contemplative act of communion, when two things become one in participatory knowledge and love. This is nondualistic thinking, like the advaita of Eastern religions. God and the soul are united in a oneness that is not pantheistic, but pan-en-theistic. Communion is the common denominator of all the modes of contemplation, whether ordinary or extraordinary, active or passive, acquired or infused. Review for Religious Communion grows gradually as we are transformed in God. The one obstacle to our experiencing our .oneness with God is our unredeemed self, which is our false self or egoic self. Specifically, this bad self is our disordered desires. They are our attachments, an innocuous word better translated in our idiom as addictions and illusions. These are the persons and things and mindsets that control us, distort our thinking, and move us in the wrong direction. We deal with them by the two-pronged attack of getting to know Jesus better (so as to perceive his attractiveness) and letting go of competitive desires. There are two principles here, knowing Jesus and letting go. They are the two directives set down in the strongest language by John of the Cross as the necessary and sufficient program for holiness (Ascent 1.13.3-4). The strategy is to work on habitual, deliberate failings one by one until God negates them all in one sweep by leading a person into the "dark night." At that time one loses the attraction and pleasure in anything other than God. In John of the Cross, the gift of initial infused contemplation is the cause of this state. The budding contemplative is counseled to stop discursive activity, embrace the emptiness, and be present in loving attention to God, who is "infusing" light and love. At first the experience is distressful, because one fears she has lost God and everything else. The infused light and love are too subtle to be recognized. The landmarks of the old spiritual journey are gone: God is no longer available, 6ne cannot pray in the old ways, the excitement of ministry goes dead, and there is a malaise about everything. The only positive quality is an ache for God, which is aggravated by the fear of having lost the Beloved. Eventually one becomes comfortable with this new way of relating to God, and peace and serenity replace the anxiety. 62.3 2003 Larkin ¯ John of the Cross's Message for Today The dark night in general is the whole spiritual journey from beginning to end. Thus in John of the Cross the ascetical efforts that begin the journey to divine union do not complete the task. The dark night is needed for that. Why? Because our devious human nature, one's false self, goes underground into the unconscious and blocks a person's surrender to God in disguised ways. Jungian psychology calls the buried false self the shadow. It is made up of the capital sins, like lust or pride; in pious people these weaknesses take on forms of pseudo-piety that are as destructive as the crass expressions. Centuries before Jung, John was an expert on uncovering the shadow or dark side of human nature. His teaching is that only God can heal the shadow at its roots. God does this, not by "fixing" it, much less removing it, but by helping us confront and accept it and then move on to total surrender to God. One of John's great contributions is this teaching on the dark night. The dark night in general is the whole spiritual journey from beginning to end; the dark night under consideration here is one phase of the purification process, and is called the passive dark night of the senses. The new knowledge and love that are pure gift from God at this point (and called in-fused contemPlation) reconfigure the spiritual life. Inner worldly goods all lose their appeal. One sees them in their truth, and in comparison with God (Ascent 1.4; 3.20.2), and so they recede into irrelevance. At the same time God is no longer available in the cozy relationship of the past. The new knowledge and love of God is camouflaged and not knowledge in the usual Review for Religious sense, since it is apophatic, that is, knowing by unknowing. Nothing is felt by the senses, and the action of God is too subtle to be recognized. The result is ennui and accidie. John of the Cross reassures the beleaguered soul that the new state is an advance. The darkness is from God. John gives signs to authenticate the true grace from counterfeits. They are persistent dryness, the inability to function in the old ways, and the ache for God. Something new is going on. God is present in the scary silence. The person must relax and let God take over. Such is the dark tunnel of beginning infused contemplation. The new way of relating is communion. Instead of 'T' and "Thou" outside one another, the experience is "we" or "us." Mystics revel in this intimacy. It is at-one-ness with God. Such is the experience of this and every other kind of contemplation. It is in contrast to rational thinking about an object out in front. This is the way to just be-ing, participating in one life together, "abiding in Christ and Christ abiding in the person" (see Jn 15:5). Contemplation happens in prayer, in ministry, and in human relationships. It is a fine-tuning of the state of grace. It happens when childish babbling and chatting with God give way to silence. Only silence can handle the new knowledge and love. The silence may disconcert and cause anxiety, because nothing seems to be going on and one fears the emptiness. In fact, a great deal is going on, and the soul is undergoing a deeper purification and illumination. John tells the person to stay quiet, at attention. This blessed state is the proximate objective of the beginner in meditation. In John's view it may take a year or so to reach it.2 In my experience the apprenticeship is longer. It may take several years before one moves beyond discursive meditation into this prayer of silence. 62.3 2003 Larkin * John of the Cross's Message for Today Contemplation Today But something different is happening on the contemplative landscape today. Instead of working for years with discursive meditation and perhaps not entering " the dark night of the senses at all, people in all walks of life are choosing to practice a new kind of contemplative prayer. The contemporary practice is a new category and not the same as the contemplative prayer and contemplation of John of the Cross. For him these two terms are synonymous and always describe the absolutely free gift of infused contemplation. Contemplative prayer today is not discursive meditation, nor is it per se infused contemplation. It is an intermediary between meditation and contemplation. Centering prayer, Christian Meditation, and the Jesus Prayer cultivate silence and presence to God. In John's terminology these forms belong to meditation, since the prayer is active, personally chosen, and self-directed. But they are a kind of contemplation, because they are silent, without words or images or discursive movement from point to point. They are a species of contemplation, because they are communion with the Trinity. Thousands of people are practicing this self-initiated contemplative prayer. They are not forced into this way of relating to God; they choose it. They enter into deliberate and wordless silence. Instead of being busy inquiring, analyzing, and making multiple acts of the affections, they remain present to the divine indwelling in simple awareness and attention to the gift of grace within. This form of prayer is on the growing edge of Christian life. I believe that it is a gift to the church at this point in history. There is a widespread conviction that we do not have to wait until we are forced into the silence. We can choose it and foster it, and a fruitful kind of prayer results. All our other prayer, such as the liturgy and lectio divina, and our apostolic action and for Religious community relationships as well, are affected by this entering within. We come at life from a deeper level. All we need is an "open mind and open heart" to welcome the God hidden in the depths of our souls. This prayer is simply presence, silence, encounter beyond words. The challenge in this kind of prayer is to maintain the silence, to keep focused on the presence of God. The three forms under consideration use a word or a phrase as a way of maintaining attention. Centering prayer uses a holy word like Abba or Jesus to express one's consent to the divine presence and renew one's presence to God; the word is repeated as often as it is needed. Christian Meditation and the Jesus Prayer use the sacred word as a mantra, that is, a phrase repeated throughout the prayer. The usual mantra in Christian Meditation is the Aramaic word "maranatha," which means "Come, Lord." It is a greeting found in the New Testament. The mantra of the Jesus Prayer is the words "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner." You will not find these prayer forms in the writings of John of the Cross. The architects of these prayer disciplines do not presume the presence of infused contemplation, though they hope that the practice will lead there. John Main maintained that Christian Meditation was a traditional form of meditation in the medieval church. Actually he was not a stickler about terminology or theological distinctions; he saw meditation, contemplation, and contemplative prayer as synonyms. The method of meditation taught by John of the Cross may well have been along the lines of John Main. Beginners were to "ponder a divine mystery.''3 A common way of doing that in early monasticism was to repeat

Issue 47.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1988. ; Communal Spirituai ~Cons01ation The Blessing of ~OId Age . . .= =,.~ ;. ::. -. : ~ - = :"~ i~',~,~ . Love and !~Apostolate Volume 47 Number 6 Nov./Dec. 1988 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The edito-rial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO. 63108-3393. REWEW FOR RELiGiOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. ©1988 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: U.S.A. $12.00 a year; $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail, add $5.00 per year; for airmail, add $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read M. Anne Maskey, O.S.F. Acting Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors Nov./Dec. 1988 Volume 47 Number 6 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to Rv.wv.w Fon RvaotGmus; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from Rv.wv.w FOR REt.mtous; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints ar~ available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. Consciousness Examen: Becoming God's Heart for the World George A. Aschenbrenner, S.J. Father Aschenbrenn~r, well known to almost all of our readers, returns to our pages,. His article was first published in the April-June 1988 special edition of Prayer and Service (Rome). He is the director of the Spiritual-formation program at North Ameri-can College; 00120 Vatican City State; Europe. To live contemplativeiy. Ind~ed', ~o become Whom we contempl.at~: this is the invi~gorating experience, the hallmark enterprise and adventure that human existence is all about that for which every human heart is long-ing. The magnetic appeal of~tl~e wholly beloved invites our hearts to a transformation which is never e~isy. But it is so intimately renewing as to be almost irresistible. It is the very heart 9f love. Lovers in their mu~- tual ~0ntemplation are not always explicitly aware of this process of self-transformation into which the~y ~are being swept up. But c,ertain claalleng'- ing momen, ts can starkly reveal the risky loss of self that is involved. And yet the very attractiveness of the beloved provides conviction and moti-vation t6 embrace this risk. in that magnetic moment, love seems an op-portunity not to be m'isse'd. B/at love's opportunity "and risk are also costly--and lovers finally know this. Indeed, the cost involved in the con-templation of lovers strikes to the profound level of self, id.entity. But cost what it may, the belove.d~s attractiveness lures the lover on to surpris-ingly new depths. The beloved in our reflection here is Christ Jesus, our God and Lord, our Brother and, finally, all our sisters and brothers, especially the most suffering ones across all time and space (see Mt 25:31-46). And contem-plative transformation into .this beloved is the fundamental process .in-volved in, indeed it is, devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus Christ. It 801 [102 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 is also the process with which examination of conscience is concerned. And there we have at once the premise and the product of this reflec-tion. Both devotion to the Sacred Heart and examination of conscience have a long history in the Ignatian tradition. But they have rarely, if ever, been viewed in relationship to each other. In this article I will try to show how regular examination of conscience facilitates a transforming expe-rience of one's own heart into the beloved of one's heart, the Sacred Heart of God in Jesus Christ. After a brief summary of the contempo-rary renewed understanding of the examen, I will make use especially of some of the graces prayed for in the First Week Of the Spiritual Exer-cises, in order to describe the continuing conversion involved in a regu-lar practice of examen. Finally, in support of the claim that the examen can convert our hearts into devotion to the Sacred Heart of God, I will describe a little of the apostolic power~ the ardent love and thirst for jus-tice, of such a growing and ongoing conversion. Ongoing: for we are never done with love. In recent years there have been attempts, both within the Jesuit heri-tage and within the whole Church, to renew the understanding and prac-tice of examination of conscience and of devotion to the Sacred Heart. Examination of conscienc~ is now more of(en called consciousness ex-amen or awareness examen. ~ In its renewed form the examen continues to bless and sensitize the hearts of many busy believers to the loving pres-ence of God in all of daily life. And while much work has been done in developing a contemporary theological understanding of devotion to the Sacred Heart,2 perhaps the a~tual practice of the devotion is not so widespread as that of consciousness examen, or at least is not widespread among those who frequently make use of consciousness examen. This article, finally, though its central point is to relate the two practices, is concerned more with the personal effects of regular examen than it is with the details of traditional or recent developments in devotion to the Sacred Heart. Renewed Understanding of Examen In the renewed understanding of the examen, two insights are key. First, a much more positive perspective has corrected a past view that often deteriorated into an overly negative, moralistic misunderstanding. Rather than highlighting the bad actions of a day, the examen gives pri-mary concern to what is primary: God's revelation, a steadfast love in Christ Jesus always inviting and invigorating our consciousness. Formal examen sensitizes our hearts to the presence of this love in the ordinary Becoming God's Heart / 803 details of every day. Whenever this love is recognized and responded to, our hearts simply must c9~me aliw~ with joy and gratitude. So gratitude is the major element in the actual time of examen-prayer, as it should also be in our daily lives of faith. And this gratefulness for the wonder of God's love stirs hearts to action. And so gratitude becomes the chief motive from which all ministry pours. As the examen begins to make our hearts more aware of God's .per-during Io.ve, we also begin to recognize flow often and how easily we can b~ oblivious to that love, or how subtly, yet quite stubbornly, we can refuse response to love. This realization, when faced honestly and not rationalized away, can, whether rudely or quietly, awaken our hearts with healthy guilt, with sorrow and repentance. As this article will de-velop later, this, experience of guilt and sorrow is anything but pleasant; yet, as an experience of God's love, it does purify us, it does transform us. And the effect of that can only be a bolder, freer, more wide-ranging apostolic service. Mature faith and discipleship cannot happen without this painful transformation in the humiliating experience of guilt and sorrow. As the repentant sinner encounters God's forgiveness in Je-sus, sorrow is transformed into hopeful, vigorous gratitude--and a burn-ing zeal to serve God's loving justice in our world. In this way, thanks-giving-- the central driving force in the heart of any mature disciple of Jesus Christ--dominates the dailyexamen and fuels its impulse toward loving action. A second insight that renews our understanding.of the examen is the importance of the informal examen, as distinguished from, though obvi-ously not unrelated to, the formal examen.3 The formal examen is a spe, cific time and style of prayer:. In a previous article I described the five traditional elements of such prayer.4 Never meant as an end in itself, this formal practice of examen should gradually .spill over and infiltrate it-self, as a special faith,sensitivity, into a person's daily ,life. And so we come upon the informal examen:a way of living. The informal examen is more a matter of who we.are and who we are becoming, whereas the formal examen is a specifid prayer we regularly practice. Thus a .regular practice of examen can lead to that self-transformation which make pos-sible a genuine faith-sensitivity of heart, a dynamic connaturality with the Beloved, which we are calling here informal examen. This dynamic development of formal examen into informal, into a pervasive faith-sensitivity of heart, is crucial--crucial both to a proper understanding of examen itself and to its role in the human heart's deeply desired experi-ence of love: our becoming whom we contemplate. Review for Religious, November-December 1988 Daily Conversion in Faith Jesus' ministry erupts publicly among the peopl(-inoa great sense of urgency: a wholly new revelation of God's love and the need for reform of mind and heart, if One is to recognize and respond~to that love. It is so clear at the beginning of Mark and in the synagogue-scene of chapter four in Luke. This radical personal conversion of faith is often described in the Scriptures as a matter of repentance. As a conx~ersion that will cost a whole lifetime, 'it continually involves the risking and sacrificing of a temptingly attractive but false, illusory self while radically true and ra-diantly new creation is born in a person's daily response to the quiet ur-genc~ of God's love. But no experience of merely passing excitement will suffice for this. Nor ~can such repentance and radical change of outlook ever be re-duced simply~ tb our own planning and control. A strategy of clear-sighted tactics and of fierce determination will always prove futile all by itself. In fact, if not properly motivated and accompanied by grace, it can actually corrupt the very adventure of faith into something"unwhole-some and unholy. With0ut,a genuin(rexperience of the wonder of God's love, the Gospel call, the call by grace and favor to radical change, can-not be heard, and healthy repentance cannot happen.5 It is the attractive beauty and power of God's love which reveals the inadequacy and sin-fulness of our condition and unlooseris in our hearts a desire to be much more than what we now may be. It is in this way that the w~onder of God's love reveals our sinfulness. And this profound truth, so capable of being misunderstoOd, is always the bedrock of mature spiritual life. God alone sees our sinfulness most clearly for what it truly is: a choice against love. And it is this God who calls us to intimacy in the beautiful revelation of Jesus come among us as forgiveness. Every detail of Je-sus' life, most especially his dramatic experience on Calvary, stretches and stirs 6ur hearts in hope for a new creation, a new life, a whole new self. But repentance, with its'purifying pain and.suffering, is the only way to this urgently longed-for newness. ¯ ~An ,honest repentant.acknowledgment of sinfulness.in the face of such love is neither'obxiious nor easy, because it cuts Our consciousness in humiliation. 'The guilt and shame and the embarrassment that come in the wake of such~an acknowledgment sting and. singe our conscious-ness. In the presence of such love, they make our spirits blush. The pain and hurt will, most often ,~" and quite spontaneouslyl make us wary and seel~ to activate d~fense mechanisms such'~ as the rationalizations of de-nial and the distractions,~not of joy, but of pleasure. These are moments Becoming God's Heart / 805 for careful discernment in the life of any believer, For the humiliating pain of acknowledged sin, as intended here, is not the result of some overly scrupulous conscience. Nor is it the unhealthy guilt of self-hatred. Rather it is the purifying consolation--not desolation, but con-solation~ however scouring--the consoling experience of God calling us to greater love and life and faith. Despite the pain, therefore, this repen-tant blush of heart is a grace not to be rejected. It is essential to any ma-ture faith, to any measured zeal for God's world, to any discipleship that hopes.to brave the road's full distance. The guilt that introduces our embarrassed, repentant response to God'.s great, tender love requires a brief description here. Much past ex-p. eoence of unhealthy guilt has understandably provoked the over-reaction against, even to the l~oint of a dangerous disregar.d, of, ~all guilt as if all guilt were unhealthy. Though unhealthy guilt can surely plague and disi~eart~n.us, yet there is a guilt born of God. A'nd it ~;tings. But for the lover, it also signals the Beloved's presence, a very active pres-ence, a redemptive consciousness, inoviting great~er intimacy in faith with God. Urihealthy guilt is always anxious, wo~:rie~ aboiat self, in excessive fear of punishment, preoccupied with failure, at tim6s verging on despair in the face of some unrealistic pe~rfectionism. But healthy, consoling guilt is always the result of an interpersonal Iov,e .relationship. And it focuses the heart beyond the self, on the Beloved, in painful so~:row for the wound one's lack of love has caused. Healthy .guilt does not despair, nor does it disrupt the deepest peace of the soul. The reason for this is that healthy guilt is always intimately and very positively related to encoun-ter, a repentant sinner's encounter with God's forgiveness revealed and available now in a crucified Son's intransigent love. In the Dying, a New Life But in the tense struggle'of this inner guilt, shame, and sorrow, we usually become aware of the risk and high stakes involved. A self, or some aspect of a self with which we have been enamored, perhaps for a long time, must be let go of, Something must die if the new is to be born. It is a mortifying experience, but, as it is not a mortification sim-ply of our own making, neither can the outcome of it be clearly grasped in advance, It is a moment of perceived high risk. And the helplessness of such a moment, when we are on the verge of letting go of what used to be and are. not yet in possession of what will be, can profoundly daunt and agitate our spirit. Furthermore, it is in no way simply our own power and ingenuity that will create a different future. In the helpless and sor-rowful awareness of our sinfulness, it is only an 'act of trusting abandon- Review for Religious, November-December 1988 ment of self, sometimes done in the dark aloneness of faith, that will al-low the Beloved to gift us with God's holiness, our only true human fu-ture. A process of conversion that has begun in love leads now to even greater love as a beloved God, in that faithful promise which is the risen Jesus, defies all darkness and rejects absurdity and pain as the final word, whether about this world or the next. The heart of God revealed in"Jesus excites our hearts with the invi-tation to a new and brighter future. But only a heart scoured clean in the humiliation of repentance can respond to that invitatiofi. The issue is as profound as self-transformation and as hopeful as a wholly new c?eation. But without a mortified, response to God's loving invitation and without a risky letting go of self, such a future remains simply tantalizing, cheap grace, illusion. The forgiving love of God ~brings th~ process of repentance to a con-clusion o~ lively gratitude, profound joy, and enthusiastic zeal for min-istry. The sorrow of a forgiven sinner is not depressing, however pain-fully purifying. Neither is this sorrow obliterated by the joyous gratitude and zeal for servic~ that realized forgiveness brings. Rather, the humility of a saved sinner, while not destructively focused on the past, neve'r sim-ply forgets the sorrowful memory of forgiven sin. One cannot help but wonder whether Peter in the maturi~ty of his joy, during his after-breakfast walk with the risen Jesus, did not once again find his eyes well up with tears as three awkward questions burned his soul with his own lonely truth, but burned it precisely for the sake of fidelity, the journey in companionship, and, yes, for the great holiness of Peter that lay ahead (Jn 21:15-19). The new self created in God's fo¢giveness is always strongly char-acterized by a profound, joyful thanksgiving for a deed neither deserved nor capable of accomplishment on one's own. This deed of forgiveness and the hope of a new and better future resonate strongly in the repen-tarot sinner's heart, now riveted on the challenging beauty of God's for-giving love, found fleshed forever in Jesus on the cross. And so the whole dynamic of the First Week of the Spiritual Exercises propels a per-son to confrontation, to enlightenment and encouragement before this pas-sionate experience of Jesus on Calvary. Having taken upon himself the sins of all, this Son, anguished in an olive grove over the agonizing pros-pect of a humiliating death, is able to renew that trusting abandonment of self which allows himoto find once again, as always, not previous to, but in the very abandonment of dying, his dear Father. And his beloyed Father blesses this anguished abandonment with a future of absolute full- Becoming God's Heart ness in resurrection. In the face of such enlivening abandonment on Je-sus' part, we can find the graceful encouragement needed for that sur-render of self which repentance always demands. It is at this moment that the graces of fidelity and perseverance take root in the forgiven sinner's experience. And so Jesus' death into the fu-ture of resurrection stands faithfully, for all ages, as God's forgiveness. It gives graceful encouragement to all repentant sinners in this risky and humiliating process of self-transformation. The persevering faithfulness of this new creation, this new heart, will always depend on how pro-foundly, how pervasively transformed the repentant sinner is in the en-counter with God's Word of forgiveness. As we gaze on God's forgiveness in Jesus crucified, besides a lively gratitude and profound joy, our heart knows the expansiveness of a great desire for God in Jesus--an apostolic desire to give ourselves as Jesus did in the ministry of God's forgiving justice. This desire at the end of the First Week continues to expand as the attractiveness of God's love in Jesus is revealed through the remaining weeks of the Exercises. God's Spirit and kingdom revealed so compellingly in Jesus become our whole-hearted desire. To live in daily imitation of Jesus, to serve as an apostle in whatever way God desires, becomes the very energy of our hearts. And yet, as the experience continues, this desire can stretch our hearts still further: we may be so transformed, we may, in such transformation, be so intimately identified with Jesus, that we become and, in the thor-oughly real way the mysticism of baptism and Eucharist accomplish in us, we may be Jesus in and for our world. And so ttie joyous thanksgiv-ing of a forgiven sinner, so much more than .a mere devotional satisfac-tion, sets our hearts afire with such desire for new identity in Christ Je-sus that we become mystical activists, heralds everywhere of the good news of God's transforming forgiveness. This reflection offers the view that consciousness examen may play a role of special importance in facilitating such a process of radical con-version. The profundity and pervasiveness of the transformation spoken of will depend in large measure on a regular practice of examen. And rather than putting a clear conclusion to the process of radical conver-sion, the Exercises provide enlightening direction for the further and con-tinual deepening of desire for this daily identification with Jesus. For this reason, as the formal Exercises conclude and move to become daily life, we are always left with an even greater need than before for regular ex-amen, that we may continue the daily discernment of God's love con-verting us steadily into Christ Jesus our Lord. Review for Religious, November-December 1988 Goal of Examen: Devotion to the Sacred Heart of God ,in Jesus Long after the retreat experience of the Exercises is finished, regu-lar examen keeps our heart sensitive and responsive to the attractiveness of the Sacred Heart of God: ifi Jesus.As we have already seen, thanks-giving and sorrow are the two chief affections in faith of the examen-- and the sorrow itself, as we~have also seen, finds its fulfillment in thanks-giving.~ And so it is in. and through its term of thanksgiving that regular cxamen mediates our conversion and growth into Christ Jesus. Through the basic thrust of the ex.amcn, each believer becomes a concrete embodi, merit here and now of the Sacred Heart of God in Jesus. Consciousness examen, therefore, by facilitating the transformation whereby.a serious believer and disciple becomes devoted to the Sacred Heart,is profoundly related tothat same,,devotion.For in this sens~e of the word, devotion re-fers to the fundamental shape and orientation of a believing heart to the Heart of God in Christ Jesus. And this sense of devotion cuts far be-neath-- it does not necessarily deny but rather must root--any specific, traditional devotional details and practices. .~o ¯ The transformation of self whereby our hearts radically become de-votion to the Sacred Heart accomplishes some perceptible results in our lives. Growing integrity of heart, wholeheartedness, Ignatian magnanim-ity gradually centers, unites, and identifies our whole person and pres-ence in the world. A white inner stillness, fanned to burning flame in God's own creative love, radiates an. energy bf, recollection~a collect= edness--that can meld our often fragmentary faith into the Strong, live organism of a life decisively for God. Such wholeheartedness first gives enlightenment, then courage, to-wards a fundamental desire and choice in the direction of the "heav-enly" things of consolation and away from the "earthly" things of deso-lation. These desolate "earthly" things live in our flesh as the seven capi-tal, selfish impulses toward sin that the Christian tradition ~has known so well for centuries; whereas the "heavenly" things of God's consoling love are the opposite impulses which also live in our consciousness where the Spirit of Jesus invites and breathes their confirmation, their development in us, as virtues, as the very shape of our .heart. In the in-terweaving complexity and tangle of our daily consciousness, we dis-cover that the tempting experience of these capital impulses to sin is pre-cisely the battlefield upon which the fidelity of our commitment and de-votion to the virtuous heart of God. in Christ is tested and strengthened. And so it is usually by standing strong against the tempting intensity of lust that the virtue of chastity grows. It is by decisively acknowledging Becoming God's Heart .and carefully standing against the violence of desolate rage that the ten-sile strength of nonviolent gentleness is forged. And so of all the per, sonal and community motions of spirit that impel us towards or away from the justice of the Reign of God. The examen is.daily involvement in this process of transforming the impulsive desolations of our conscious-ness into the deep, consoling devotion and virtue of God's Sacred Heart. Once again, as described earlier in this article, we notice that it is pre-cisely in the dying that the new is born.And what is newly born through these mortifying struggles on the inner battlefield of our heart--the heart of each of us and the communal, societal heart of each group, each so-cial structure--always affects apostolic presence in the world, always af-fects decisively actions for or against God's justice as revealed in the lov-ing Heart of Jesus. Fifially, this conversion into the Sacred Heart of God in Jesus, this process of our becoming devotion to the Sacred Heart, does not displace offr weakness ~vith an arrogant sense of ~Sur own stren~gth. No~, just the o'ppo~site! Maturity in faith is always growth t0 grateful realization both of our weakness and of our dependence on God's love for everything. A steadfast belief in God's love does not r.eplace human weakness. Rather, it helps us patiently to wait upon the Lord and recognize arid cele-brate God's love bringing strength into our weakness. For God's power is at its best in our weakness (se.e 2 Co 12:7-10). It is a power that is needed, for becoming whom we contemplate takes courage, even as it brings energy for it. It is high adventure, with a promised wage of per-secution, to enter and be taken up into the affectivity of Jesus, God's coun-tercultural heart for the world. Consciousness examen, then, is not a way to greater, self-reliant strength. But as its daily practice transforms us into the Sacred Heart, we may become whom we contemplate and so stand in this world as liv-ing witnesses, agents of love, inviting others into God's Heart in Christ Jesus: "Come to me, all you who are weary and over-burdened, and I will give you rest! Put on my yoke and learn from me. For I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls, for my yoke is easy and my burden is light"(Mt 11:28-30). And one more time we listen to the Beloved, becoming whom we contemplate: "This text is being fulfilled, today, even as you listen . . . 'The spirit of the Lord has been given to me, for he has anointed me. He has sent me to bring the good news to the poor, to proclaim liberty to captives and to the blind new sight, to set the downtrodden free, to proclaim the Lord's year of favor' " (Lk 4:16-21). I~10 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 Through a companionship with Jesus made intimate and tender, strong and apostolically peremptory, through days and years of fidelity to the examen of consciousness, and through the dynamic energy con-tinually released in the experience of forgiven sinfulness, we may come to the apostolic gift which the fidelity of the friends of God can know. In becoming whom we contemplate, we may devoutly, reverently, boldly, and with his thirst for justice become, each of us and together, in the Holy Spirit, God's own heart for the world. NOTES t George Aschenbrenner, S.J., "Consciousness Examen," R~.v~Ew ~oR REt.IG~ot~s 3 I (1972): 14-21. See also the lengthy, very helpful article of David Keith Townsend, S.J., "The Examen Re-Examined," CIS 18, 2 (1987): 11-64. 2 Annice Callahan, R.S.C.J., Karl Rahner's Spirituality of the Pierced Heart: A Re-interpretation of Devotion to the ~a~'red Heart (New York: University Press of Amer-ica, 1985). This book contains references to the essential texts of Rahner on this sub-ject. 3 George Aschenbrenner, S.J., "A Check on Our Availability: The Examen," Rw~w ~oR RE~.~o~ot~s 39 (1980): 321-324. '~ Art. cit., R~vl~.w ~oR R~.~G~ot~s 31 (1972): 14-21. 5 See my article "Forgiveness," Sisters Today 45 (1973): 185-192. Clustering Thomas More Page, C.F.X. Brother Thomas More has written for us before, most recently in our issue of March/ April 1986: "Centering Prayer: A Flight to Reality." He lives at Mission Santa Bar-bara; 2201 Laguna Street; Santa Barbara, California 93105. Three years ago our provincial asked if the members of the province would be willing to commit themselves to form prayer cluster gr.oups dur-ing th~ course of the coming.year. The clusters would be small, six to eight people, voluntary, and would pledge themselves to meet at least twice a year over a long weekend. The timing of the formation of these clusters was just right, for by this time in our history a spirit of trust had ,been developed among the brothers, largely as the result of several provincial gatherings which were organized along different lines from provincial chapters. Provincial chap-ters consisted of a number of elected delegates who deliberated in a for-mal and businesslike manner over a prepared agenda, generally using par-liamentary procedures or "processes" for handling this agenda. The "gatherings," on the other hand, were open to all members and were constructed around themes which were meant to evoke a personal and communal faith-response within the ambience of prayer, personal and communal, with emphasis on our commonality as brothers. Within this framework we related our struggles and successes, recalled our sinful and graceful history, and spent blocks of time in prayerful reflection. Along with appropriate communal prayers composed around the theme of the gatherings, there were carefully prepared liturgies. Some unexpected results came from these new ways of meeting. There was a power released in many that had a healing effect. The prov-ince had experienced a deep division that had a traumatic effect upon the 811 812 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 members, leaving many wounds and a feeling of alienation, along with an unsettling disorientation. Then, also, there was a disturbing loss of identity. But here at these gatherings we were learning to speak a new language--that of faith speaking from lived experience. We spoke from the deepest levels of our lives. We spoke also of who we were. And we listened. In speaking and listening and praying we built up a new rela-tionship with one another andbegan the process of healing and more im-portantly, of refounding and celebrating our identity as brothers. With this healing and rediscovery, the level of trust rose proportionately. Also, an energizing power once more flowed through the province. Having thus rediscovered our identity within the healing and fraternal gatherings, we were ready for the proposal to take the next step of form.ing prayer clusters. The method used to form.the first experimental clusters, three in all, was simple, yet somewhat complicated. We were asked to jot down the names of those brothers with whom we would feel comfortable in such an intimate setting, along with the names of those with whom we would not feel comfortable. The provincial turned the names over to a brother-sociologist, who, after a long Struggle with the assignment, canoe up with three group'ings, ~,hich, ~after some further adjustments, were refined'. The members of the three groups were then asked to begin the process: Some brothers bypassed this process and began on their own. The group I was in has met three°times over the last year and a half. One person had volunteered to prepare th6 agenda for the first session; another, to find a suitable place where the f~icilities were such that they guaranteed the kind of atmosphere needed for this type of meeting. We had agreed that finances should not be an obstacle towards attendance and that, if anyone needed assistance, the group would come to his aid. To dat~, we have met in such diverse places as Loretto, Kentucky; St. Louis, Missouri; and Santa Barbara Mission, California. Our three ma-jor themes were: (.1) Make a review of your life. Isolate one'incident where you had to make a radical decision. How did you resolve it? (2) What has been your experience of God? How has your prayer life devel-oped over the years? (3) What significant things have happened to yot] since our last meeting? Relate an incident of injustice you have experi-enced. How did you handle it? Rather than further describing the mechanics of the prayer-cluster ex-perience, I prefer now to become more personal and isolate three major movements I saw take place. The most singular and overarching move-ment that tied the sessions together was what I would call spiritual inti- Clustering macy, which John Dunne describes as "the heart's desire." 'I had not expected that this would happen, and so it came as a surprise a grace. I was led into the most secret chambers of my brothers' minds and hearts--places that had hitherto been in darkness and inaccessible to oth-ers. To be drawn into a brother's faith experience; to walk with him as he tells me, in language uncluttered by grammatical rubrics, about his personal history--to be drawn into such an intimate circle was to become a witness to how his journey shaped, and molded him. It was to become a companion, a friend, a brother, who has been made aware and has made him aware of the sacredness of his history. He would no longer be alone to those to whom he had opened a clearing where the heart spoke without caution or~embarrassment. Released from the fenced area of private prayer and buried thoughts, each brother opened up the land, scape of his soul, where what was once unspoken, silent, became sto-ries that were, in the words of John Shea, "witnesses to grace, ~tutter-ing accounts, at times,,of,the God whose ways are unknown to us." And after each account, there was a zone of silence more reverent and expec-tant than the hushed, silence that follows upon the last plucked strings of Segovia's guitar. And thus it was that each brother, within the intimate circle of fra-ternal shari.ng, was able to speak without fear,about those things in his life he believed in, knowing that he could do this becau_se he had the sup~ port and trust of his listeners. This spiritual intimacy led to the second movement: a new sense of ideiatity. Each brother spoke in,what Robert Bella calls the "language of the heart," where one is caught up in the restless, flux of thought un-tethered by grammatical ,rubrics. When one heart speaks and another lis-tens, each is .drawn closer together in the bonds of fellowship. The ex-perience of spiritual intimacy made each ,brother feel he was participating in a fellowship in which his identity as a person and a brother was re-captured, maybe even rediscovered. When we were drawn into the feeling level of the brothers as they told their story, there was a shift that brought all the hearers into one com-mon community with common roots. What was experienced was the joy of belonging, with the discovery that "joy is deeper than agony" (Nietzsche). This kind of interchange is what J. A. Appleyard, S.J., would call "agonistic" in the "best sense of the word: it struggles to articulate primary experience, and in doing so it creates an intersUbjec-tive reality, sets relationships of cordialit~y and professionalism on a new basis of experienced faith." Through this deep experience of sharing 1~14 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 their faith, the. brothers broke through the polite slogans by which they once related and placed their newly found relationship on a personal level where their faith journeys converged towards the two poles necessary for a humanly growth-producing state: a deep relationship with God and a deep feeling of brotherhood. This senSe of personal and communal identity, this joy of belong-ing, is not something entirely emotional. It is something more than that. Its merit is that it drew the group into the beguiling and dreaming air of what brotherhood can become, where brother relates to brother. As Bishop Tutu once wrote, "You blossom among those who keep affirm-ing." The third movement was the awareness on the part of the brothers that this experience of spiritual intimacy and the rediscovery of their iden-tity' as brothers was not done within a vacuum, but was fashioned from the agenda of the world from which they temporarily withdrew. If one listened closely to their stories, one became acutely conscious that the brothers came to the cluster to gain strength and support to become even more prayerful men of faith who want to'develop a spirituality for jus-tice and equality which is nonviolent, hopeful, courageous, and collabo-rative. They came from their deep involvement in such ministries as: chemical dependency; professional involvement in heavy ethical and medi-cal questions; inner-city and upper-level-income schools; directors of re-newal programs for clergy and religious; organizers of immigrants from Central America. Against this varied background, they spoke of their call and their efforts toward a radical commitment to be voices for the voice-less, prophets in today's Church and world. They spoke of how they might effectively be involved in the women's movement and how they could be brother to them in their struggles; of the issues and the injus-tices which cry out for their voice; of how they might clarify and articu-late a response to the needs of the Church and of society; of how they can speak out and act individually and collectively regarding specific in-justices they see within the Church; of.how they might be able to speak out about the clericalism within the Church and religious orders; of how they can instill in students values opposed to a consumer society and a vision of the universality of the human family. Clustering, then, has been for the brothers a powerful force for sustaining them.in their involvement in the issues paramount in our society and Church. Without this aware-ness, they realize, the clusters could become a cozy and self-~fulfilling affair, hardly any different from social gatherings or an evening of ca-maraderie. ., ~, Clustering What has been the effect of these clusters on the membership? The question is best answered by the provincial who initiated the effort. In a very recent letter, he wrote as follows: "It is clearly evident that the Lord has been blessing us in a particular way over these last years. Our numbers may be decreasing and most of us may be aging; still we are at a depth of commitment and a level of true fraternal sharing that I per-sonally had never experienced before in my years as a Xaverian. I have lived over forty years of very happy times--of real mutual fraternal as-sistance and good-natured camaraderie. However, it is, I believe, only in these later years that we have begun to share what is deepest in our lives, in our thoughts and feelings. It is only recently that we have be-gun to share what happens to us in our prayers, to open ourselves to each other at the depths of our intimate private prayer. The mutual understand-ing, encouragement, and joy that this. sharing has produced in us is evi-dent every time we gather together: it is vibrant, palpable, and promotes further joy. It is true spiritual happiness, a real spiritual consolation." The Sanctuary Lamp Amid the silence of the night the waxen sentinels do not their vigil keep but one lone beacon stirs the midnight air. The flame, so silent her voice yet so dauntless the strength gathered in the surgings of light defying darkness. How hidden the strain of solitude's demands to give with gentle grace life's unseen gift of gold while others bask in daylight's sweet caress. Barbara Ann Opfer 2027 Campbell, B-8 Sandusky, Ohio 44870 TheMirror in the Field Joseph A. Tetlow, S.J. . , Father Tetlow has worked in the religious formation of junior religious and of theol-ogy students. He is currently spiritual director to the cle~rgy of th, e Diocese of Aus-tin, facilitator of the spirituality program in the Central Texas Pastoral Centel, and tertian director of~the New Orleans Province of the Soc'iety 6f Jesus. He liveg at Xavier Hall; 907 Lydia Street; Austin, Texas 78702. Fvery literate American can rattle off the list of major flaws in the Ameri-can psyche: workaholism, negative self-image, inability to make com-mitments, perfectionism, and so on. We absorb the list from psycho-babble, but we do not accept that these flaw~':are mere personality quirks, "just the way we are." On the contrary, we have the vague but persis-tent sense that not being able not to work, or living continually down on self, or failing in seriously made commitments, and so on, represents some kind of moral or religious wrong. W6' do not, however, know the name of the wrong. I make an attempt here to name that wrong and to diagnose the spiri-tual sickness lurking under workaholism and the rest. Why do business-men who really trust God nonetheless work themselves into coronary care? Why do mature Christians feel that'their prayer is trivial because they do not focus on divine things the way a computer focuses on its data? How can a woman go through a long preparation, soberly take mar-riage vows, and walk away from her Spouse two years later? What would make holy old religious consider themselves worthless? I will contend, first, that a single, serious spiritual failing commonly underlies these spiritual sicknesses. The failing is that we do not believe in and attend to the passionate love of God continually creating each hu-man self. Very likely, many have not even made an adult commitment to a principal foundational truth of revelation: God continues at every mo- 816 The Mirror in the Field ment the Creator even of the free human self. I will argue, secondly, that we have honorable reasons for finding it hard to keep this truth in mind. I will list five. However, thirdly, even if our reasons are honorable, we suffer a good deal because of this unmindfulness. Specifically, we suffer a syn-drome of problems that constantly show 'up in spiritual direction and re-treats, beginning with the perfectionism, negative self-imaging, and workaholism already mentioned and including others. I will list another five that I have observed. These problems, I will insist, have specifically psychological moments, but when we escape our psychological suffer-ing from, say, negative self-imaging, we then face a specifically spiri-tual issue of appropriate self-love. It is the root spiritual problem I am interested in here. To analyze it, fourthly, I. will return to and expand on my first point. For I find the root of this whole range of problems in our refusal to accept God's crea-tive loving not in the abstract (we all give notional assent to God the Crea-tor every Sunday), but in the concrete. I mean that we reject God's cre-ating when we choose to dislike, hate, or repudiate the concrete gifts that I am given and .the whole gift that I am. This radical refusal strains or even breaks an appropriate relationship with the self and with God. Finally, I will suggest that in some measure the cure for all of these problems lies in a wholehearted, living yes to the concrete realities in my history, in my life, and in the self that emerges within them. Forgetting the Constantly Creating God. As children we answered the question "Who made me?" with the belief ~'God made me." Now adults, we need to know that the question cannot read who made, but who is making me. l~or we know that it is not the case that G~)d made me in an historical event done with and over. It is the case that God, who is at every moment Maker, keeps on making me. In the fullest sense, my Maker keeps~3n shaping me as a human per-son and as a self. As a child I imagihed that God creates the w,ay rain fills a. vessel" It rains. The rain fills the vessel. The rain stops. The vessel remains filled. So God made me and now I am. This is an infantile conviction we need to grow out of. If I choose adult belief, I must imagine that God creates the way the sun illumines a mirror standing in a field. The sun's light fills the mirror and the mirror shines back. Did the sun stop. shin-ing, the mirror would go blank; as long as the sun shines, the mirror it-self radiates, light. So, as long as God's creating love burns in me, I am coming to be: Did he stop loving me right now--per impossibile, we like Review for Religious, November-December 1988 to think--I would stop right now coming to be. I would go blank. Why go back over these simple truths? Most feel that, put this baldly, they are too obvious to need saying. Indeed they are obvious, so obvious that we let them fade from functional beliefs to mere formali-ties in our faith-life. For God is so faithful and steadfast that we simply and unreflectively take for granted, not only his love, but even more his creating. Indeed, when men and women turn to God today (as at the be-ginning of a retreat, or in the middle of a life crisis), we gladly accept our divine parent cherishing us and we find deep consolation.and mean-ing in the Lord of all things loving us personally. We are by no means so quick to know our God as our constantly acting, all-powerful creator. I do not mean that the indifferent and sinful among us forget God creating. My experience in spiritual direction and retreat-giving leads me to contend that even people who pray regularly live unmindful of God's actiTe creating. Many who make the thirty-day lgnatian Exercises learn at the beginning to bask in God's steadfast love for them, but never ac-quiesce in the principal foundational truth: that what God wants must pene-trate my whole life and my whole self simply because God the Origin keeps on as the First Maker even of the human self as I keep emerging. We have learned in recent decades to take comfort in the thought that I am not yet complete, not yet finished; but we limit the meaning of that to not being finished making my own self, not mindful of the Other who has not yet finished, either. Perhaps we are not mindful of God's making because we get con-founded by trying to figure out how God's freedom and my personal free-dom fit together. We do indeed face some tremendous Speculative diffi-culties in fitting together human and divine freedom, and some people may suffer spiritual problems because of their speculations. But I have only very rarely met the person who labors under a kind of Luciferian aloneness before God, strapped into spiritual inertia by metaphysical co-nundrums. Most commonly, people live unmindful of God creating for deeply personal and experiential reasons, rooted in our current perception of our self and in our appreciation (or lack of it) of our concrete, per-sonal gifts. Honorable Reasons We are not to believe, however, that we fail to live mindful of the passionately making God from dishonest anger or sinful defiance~ On the contrary, I believe that we fail for several honorable reasons. The first, I think, comes from the way we now perceive the self. John Donne has argued that in the twentieth century we think of the self The Mirror in the Field as a reality that each of us brings forth. I am producing, I am making, myself. Our conviction sh6ws up in the way we talk: I have to do my own thing. I gotta be me. I have to be true to myself. I want to be authen-tic. In earlier ages people perceived the self differently. For instance, when Mary said, "My soul magnifies the Lord," she was perceiving her "self" as the sum total of her human experience. When she said, "The Lord has done great things in me," she was not talking about her little life right then. She was talking about the entire range of her little life history, all of the beginning, middle, and end. When Jesus asked, "What would a man gain if he got the whole world and lost his self?" he was not making an obscure point about some mysterious essence; he was making an obvious point about the man's entire life, his whole his-tory, his full being. Everyone can understand the point that nothing could reward a man for trashing that. We do not think that way. When we talk about our self, we .are talk-ing about something much more circumscribed, and still in process. We feel engaged in that process in every one of our initiatives and responses. We sense that we are bringing forth who I am moment by moment out of our experience, out of our history. So where does God fit in? We find it much easier to think of God as the Maker of things that are finished, and the Maker of things of which I am not the maker. We find it diffi-cult to keep in touch with the God who keeps engaged in making my whole self. The second reason why we find it: hard to keep mindful of this pas-sionately creating Love in us comes out of our relatively new knowledge of depth psychology. We can easily believe, as any child might, that God once created a self whole and intact, on whom others subsequently wreaked havoc. But we find it hard to believe two things: that God could create a self hag-ridden by an unconscious full of horrors and an id ooz-ing unresolved conflicts. And then, that God could actively continue cre-ating a self that learns lusts, neuroses, compulsions, phobias, and addic-tions before it is intelligently free or while it must choose under ruinous constraints. Does God make the self that craves alcohol which destroys that self? In what way can God be responsible for a self compelled to break out in shingles instead of breaking out of an insufferable situation? How is any god involved in creating that self? How could God be creat-ing a lesbian whose unchosen, vehement sexual desires clash shatteringly with her own cherished conscience? Both speculatively and experien-tially, we have trouble finding God's creating love inside the post- 820 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 Freudian human personality. Thirdly, I think that we find it hard t~ believe that God actively shapes the self because we are so aware of sin structured into our world and of our own introjection of those structured sins. Unavoidably in my society, I feel certain racial prejudices. I came to understand only as an adult how much I am driven b~ sexism. Again with my society, I am com-ing to comprehend the blindnesses of ageism. Ev.ery day, we Americans feel the weight of the world's wealth, which so inequitably divides hu-mankind. Thus, in vague but poignant ways, we feel responsible for struc-tured sin and guilty for our part in it; and yet we feel quite helpless to change things. Why would a good God be creating oa feckless, con-founded self like mine? Fourthly, we face this business of a negative self-image. I find this ugly self-disvaluing hard to define or describe, but great numbers of pop-psychology books suggest that it is very strong. In books like Theodore Isaac Rubin's Compassion and Self-Hate and M. Scott Peck's People of the Lie, psychiatrists contend that distrust and despising of the self poi-sons the American psyche the way radioactive wastes poison: AmeriCan watertables. And noting the tide of seminars on assertiveness and self-improvement and all the Esalen Institutes around, we are forced to con-clude that something is going on in the self-evaluation of postmodern hu-mankind, and it is not positive. We are all members of David Riesman's "lonely crowd." Just recently we celebrated an anniversary and listened again to "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band." We resonated again to the Beatles' famous line: "All the lonely people, where do they all come from?" Indeed; where do they come from? We find it hard to keep mindful that all these listless folk are the current achievement of a pas-sionately loving God. Fifthly and finally, our difficulties are intensified hourly by the ad-vertisers and taste-makers. They persuade us of the self that we "ought" to,be. During the 1930s, practitioners came to believe that advertising could go far beyond merely extolling the virtues of a product. They de-cided that real advertising should make people feel that we truly need what is being advertised, that we cannot hope to live as fulfilled persons unless we are supported by that product. Ever since, that is how adver-tising works~---and it really does work--teaching us to feel out of it, apart~ not fulfilled, without an infinite number of products and services. Since we are effectively made to feel the need of something new just about every week~ we ~.ever can come to feel that we really belong, are included, are coming to fulfillment. So where is the passionately loving The Mirror in the Field God who is said to be at the core of my--empty-feeling, craving-to-be-filled-- self? There are the five honorable reasons why we find it difficult to stay mindful of God creating us right now and to live attuned to the passion, ate love of God burning in our hearts. Of course, even~if theseoreasons are honorable, they do not make it impossible for us to be responsible for our relationships to our self and to our God. The Sin of Our Age And even if they are honorable reasons, we suffer on account of them. We might have good reason for runn~ing' a car off the road, and still fracture our skull. For these five fractured insight~ into the self give us a badly distorted vision of it and make it easy for us to suffer an inap-propriate self-lov6. That inappropriate self-love, I believe, is the root sin of our age and it produces the whole syndrome of spiritual problems that I will come to i'n the next set of paragraphs. We stand under the commandment "Love your neighbor as your-self." We are thereby under a spiritual obligatioh of ultimate conse-quence,~ since the Last Judgmerit will be made in terms of how well w~ have loved our neighbor. And yet we pay almost no attention to that as yourself and we do not know how to love ourselves well. We give our-selves to many fake wa'ys: self-indulgence in drugs and'sensuous living, the narcissisms of body-building and dieting and fashion, the willful search for the perfect mate, and so ow. But Christlike self-love, or wise and fully human self-love? We hardly ~omprehend what it is: : And yet the spiritual success of appropriate self-love has been de-scribed for us iri wh'ole shelves of books. Their distilled wisdom can be put this way: Appropriate self-love begins in approving and growing to like the divine good in myself--the gifts that I have and the gift that0I am. I approve of my gifts in the concrete, not in the abstract, so that I enjoy (as possible instances) my yen to bevice-president or my daily three-mile run or my .hit-and-miss spelling, and I like the self underly-ing all ttiat. I approve of my gifts in ~the actual contexts of my living, both time and place. In particular; I approve the concrete qualities about myself and realities in my life over which I never did have ~ say, which began and perhaps remain outside my personal, free control. So I might have to approve of having Hispanic parents or growing up in Chicago or being male. Every one of us begins appropriate self-love .with this yes. Martin Luther King did not choose to have a minister for a father, or to grow up in the tradition of American black preaching. Geraldine Ferraro did ~122 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 not choose to be born a woman with a swift, articulate intelligence at a time when such a woman could be invited to enter public life. John F. Kennedy did not choose to be born Irish-American Catholic, of ambi-tious and effective parents. Each of these three faced a series of radical choices that added up to saying yes to their concrete gifts, Had King re-pudiated his tradition of preaching, he could have accomplished little. Had Ferraro feared her intelligence, she could not have made history. Had Kennedy ignored his parents, he might well have spent his life in a dinghy off Hyannis Port collecting sunburn. Certainly, he could not have been elected the first Catholic president. God creates and keeps creating each of us in this and that concre-teness, passionately loving us into this human limitation and that particu-lar share of his infinite self. Whai tasks fall to me, then? First of all, the task of loving myself. But if I love myself, then I love a concrete self, a self that God now creates and now loves into being as I am. Plainly, I cannot love what about me is unlovable--my sins and ugly failings. But neither can I allow my sins and failings to make me hate or even dis-like the self that commits them. (Parenthetically, within this discussion the distinction between love and like cannot separate what.is one thing, and covers a rotten lie.) For if I have learned anything at all from the Word of God, I have learned that God has chosen beforehand to love me, a sin-filled self. If I choose to despise and repudiate what God loves, do I not try to make myself better than God? To look at my own case, then, I had to approve of, appreciate, and grow to like an American born as the Great Depression began, of par-ents utterly impoverished by that cataclysm. I had to come to say yes to much else: male and first child; father a champion athlete and mother lu-minously religious; Southern boy and raised in New Orleans with its Mardi Gras mentality; Catholic and nephew of a Jesuit metaphysician. I had learned to hate "Japs" and to admire soldiers when only a child, and also to consider blacks lazy and Protestants strange. I grew in sex-ual orientation, too, before choosing, and in a hankering for books, in a home where mother and father remained lifelong lovers and all the adults were readers. Of course, I have made many choices that modify all that. But none of those choices was wise that did not begin where each of us must be-gin. First to say yes, I am a gift, and then to say yes in the concrete to each of the gifts that I am. Am I tall? Thank God I am tall. Am I short? That is my gift. If I am angry at standing short--at whom am I angry? Who keeps making me short? If I cannot believe that God wants me The Mirror in the Field / 823 short, then I have made my faith fall short, and I will have to believe in a mythical The Force or in Carl Sagan's demiurge, Chance. Again, am I very, very bright? Would I rather not be very, very bright, °and do I talk and act like a dolt to veil my brightness? Whom am I insulting then, but the One who keeps making me very, very bright? Tile most ba_sic truth emerges: In the most radical ways, I am not my own maker. I.~never was and am not now. We all know Isaiah 45:9: "Does the clay say to its fashioner, 'What are you making?' " But we tend to forget, deny, or repudiate the truth that we are still on the wheel and the Potter's hands are still shaping us. "Does the pot say to the pot-ter, 'You have no skill?' " Well, each of us, insofar as we do not say yes to the gifts that we have and are, are telling our Potter that he does not know what he is doing. We enact this repudiation in a number of ways, but we suffer one spiritual illness from the repudiation itself, no matter how we act it out. When any of us rejects God's passionate love, we diminish joy in our lives. Thomas Aquinas felt that anyone who rancorously repudiated God's concrete gifts in the self would lose all spiritual joy. For we do not make our joy; we find it. Joy is like the brilliance of the sun. I al-ways think of it as whet happens to a mirror when it faces towards the sun. SUddenly the sun's light fills the mirror and in instant consequences the mirror radiates abrilliance all around. In the same way, God's pas-sionate loving continually flows in us or we would not be, and the first consequence of saying yes to God's concrete gifting is radiant joy. How the Refusal Branches Out In this atmosphere of diminished joy, the radical failure or refusal to approve of my concrete gifts as comihg from God commonly gives rise to several gpiritual problems. How do I live if I do not feel that I have all that I need or really want? Or take a worse case: Suppose that I live afraid that I do not have the gifts I need, that I am spiritually in-adequate and just not "good enough." Or worst of all: Suppose that I am angry at life and~at God over concrete realities in my life. How would I show that? How would I live that out? I would suggest the following ways. Each way increases in intensity as a person goes from lack of trust in, to.fear of, and finally to disgust with his or her concrete gifts and self. First: laziness. Any of several causes may underlie a given person's laziness. But if people do not feel themselves worth much, or worthy of anything special, they might well act that out by doing little or nothing. Thus, if a high school girl acts lazy in algebra class, she almost certainly 824 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 believes that, being a girl, she could learn little"about it. And the sin-cere and hard-working parish priest who never gets to the prayer he truly would like to make almost surely feels unequal to the'requirements of prayer or unfit to profit from it. Lazy people accomplish nothing because they try nothing; and they try nothing because they. live' with the sense of having no adequate or relevant resources within themselves. Not~ here that some might appreciate tli~eir own personal gifts but think little of the good things of the earth or"Of human artifice. Some, for instffnce, do not see gifts in food and housing. They have all they need and want, but they take it'all for graiited, implicitly, declaring it slight and unimportant. Conseque'ntly, they simply do not feel the hu-man weight of the hunger and homelessness all around them. They are simply lazy in these matters of justice, and that laziness roots deeply in their despising the good things of the e~arth. Second: ineffectualness. If la~zy people attempt nb~t~ing, ineffectual people attempt things but accomplish nothing. They do n6t trust their own gifts enough to create, to produce, to bring forth. I kne~, an artist onEe, a~ European. 'ffho brought all kinds of material into his studio but put nothing out of it. He fooled around wit~ a~t I~ut 'made. little or ~oth-iflg. As it turned out, I~E lived ineffectuhl because he feared that his gifts as an artist had unbreakable ties'to his sexual orientation. He feared that being a successful artist would n.e~essarily'elicit~plJblicly his hcimosexu-ality, which he fehred and hated. More accurately, he hated himself for having homosexual feelings. After he came to live easy and chastely within his sexual orientation, he began producing the art work o~f which he had all alpng been ~capable. And most of us know devout Christians who get on.e spiritual book after another from thei~ Spiritual Book Club and never~ get beyond a. few pages in any of them. Many people ~dopt this way.0f living out their inadequate se!~f-lov~ or their self-loathing ineffectualness who~cannot be on time, or get an article,finished, or per-forum their jobs the way their talents and .intelligence pl~ainly allow. ,Third: negative self-image. So many suffer this~that it;can reason-ably be called the most common, psychological suffering in our culture. Sometimes it see~s as though the whole population were seeking help tow~ard self-affirmation in institutes, workshops, and popular paperback books with titles like Be Your Own Best Friend. Psychologists are be-ginning to see the roots of most addic.tions and compulsions in self-hatred. ~ Note carefully, however, that this psychological problem can and probably does mask a spiritual problem. Once I have outgrown my in- The Mirror in the Field fantile self-distrust or my adolescent self-loathing, and have come to an adult self-possession and self-approval, I am then free in facing ,relig-ious and spiritu~il reality. Can I--who have found it so easy to feel down on myself--give active approval to my whole history, to the life I now lead, and to myself as God has been and continues to shape me? Thus the problem of a negative self-image transmutes from a psychological problem to a spiritual problem. What do I personally believe about God's creating me? DQ.I feel hope about myself and abgut humankind even in the rush~and torrent of our limitations ands failures? Do I .like the person. God is making me? Can I rejoice in the personalities who burrow into my.eg .o:--or do I insist on more "impr~essivei' friends? Can I approve of and rejoice in those persons whom God has given me to live with and work with? and in "the vast throng of. people" on earth? Probably all of us know some psychologically balanced people who deliberately choose to dislike¢ reject, or despise their history, life, and self. I know'one woman who periodically feels the need to denounce in Savage terms the dedicated women who taught her in grade school. We all know ~men who consider their (quite ordinary and honorable) jobs a degradation. Some see flaws, in the self and vaguely dislike the whole self as a consequen6e--flaws as trivial as fat'hips or shyness or a quick lip. A woman blurted out recently, "I hate myself when I do that." The "that" was a genuinely trivial failing, but she spoke a weighty truth: She does indeed hate herself, and regularly takes the occasion of trivial failing to reassert her hatred. Some even see strengths in the self and hate the strengths and, in them, ,the self. I remember one man feeling,bad about himself becausehe, could "only run three miles a day," and he had passed fifty. The. truth.is that a "negative~seif-image" is one dis, guise that we borrow from our culture in Order to mask our distrust or disapproval of how and what.God is.~.creating us. It is a commonplace'.among us that most of. us find it hard to acknowl-edge our virtues and our strengths. We ,also find it easy to get depressed by our failings. I often.suggest for a period of prayer at the beginning of a retreat the exercise of going over'personal gifts of every .kind, pre-cisely to say yes to God creating me. I find the vast majority of re-treatants unable to stay with this exercise. Why is this? Are these lapses of appropriate self-love mere, ly "psychological" in the sense,that they function less than consciously in the personality? I believe that they are more than that. I believe that they grow from an ongoing option or deci-sion: "I am not much. I am not very good. ! am a nothing." This fun-damental option fractures or even ruptures a person's relationship with Review for Religious, November-December 1988 the self and with the Maker.of the self. It is an offense against, the love of God concretely burning in myself. The option can actually become a repudiation of that creating love. I am afraid it did in'the life of a ex-seminarian who had tried all the drugs and all the sex, and who con-cluded several hours of sharing with the despairing remark, "God made me a piece of junk." Fourth: bitterness and rancor. Some prideful and arrogant people lash out bitterly and destructively when they cannot impose their will on events. But others who live bitter and rancorous lives see everything from the underside. On their tongues every taste of life is bitter; in their eyes every living scene unfolds under a shadow. They aggressively scan events and people for material to "bitch" about. ThEy seem to live to heap up more and more evidence that the'ir world and everyone in it are no good. One ex-priest, for instance, offered to the president of his uni-versity this odd praise about a just-completed.building: "Even I can find nothing to complain about." That man had known for decades that he lived a bitter life, and all he would do about it was to wear a mask of sardonic drollery over his emptiness. His friends all connived in his bit-terness, too, laughing at his lunges and unable to name what made him so rancorous. Yet it was plain: he gave himself to disgust at God's lov-ing creating---of his own artistic gifts, of his self, of the motley collec-tion of men and women around him. A recovering alcoholic, a woman whose children have grown and gone, has decided to live without drink, but has also decided to live feel-ing cheated and shortchanged by her disease. She is what Alcoholics Anonymous calls a "dry alcoholic." She bitterly protests'that she can-not take a drink as can nonalcholics. She demands to be able to take a casual drink and hates that she cannot. Her conversation--on whatever topic--roils with rancor. She certainly does not say yes to a self troub-led by her disease. She plainly repudiates that part of herself and dark-ens her whole life with her refusals. But who creates her alcoholic genes? Who makes a gift of each day she lives? Whom does she offend by re-fusing to rejoice in each of her living days-.'? The bitter and rancorous may seem to hate everyone around them, and may indeed do so, But as "char-ity begins at home," so does hatred. Fifth: workaholism. A lot of holy people work Ioiag, hard days out of sense that their own time is precious and their own gifts needed by God's people. They work in inner freedom. A lot of others fling them-selves into some special work because they truly love and exult in what they are doing. But very many people work and work and work and do The Mirror in the Field / 827 nothing else. They cannot not work. Their work makes up their life and their self. They do not have the freedom to take true leisure--to enjoy, as we say very accurately, themselves. The truth is that they do not en-joy their selves. They do even not approve of themselves, except a little bit when they are exhausting themselves at work. Henri Nouwen tells of a priest who would not, could not, take time in his day to be still and pray and who finally came to admit why: "I am afraid of what I will find in myself." Precisely. Real workaholics fear their selves. They keep producing and producingbecause they do not really believe they are worth anything apart from what they produce. One religious who had badly burned her-self out in twelve years of administration asked, "What am I trying to prove?" She was trying to prove what she did not need to prove, but only to accept: "You are precious in my eyes, and I love you" (see Is 54). The mere attempt to prove that I am worthy of God's creating love stands in direct opposition to acknowledging that his love comes first and humbly acceptipg it. Three other ways that we live out inadequate self-love show up often enough to merit mention, and several minor ways can just be listed. Sixth: perfectionism. Some of us continually place impossibly high goals for ourselves, which "proves" how much we think of ourselves. Then, as a matter of course, we fail toreach those goals, and that "proves" that we are not really what we like to think we are but in fact ~ire not worth much. For the perfectionist, nothing ordinary serves; he or she needs to aim only for the perfect. As an instance: A truly fat man in the.South decided that a man like himself, ought to look like a Califor-nia beach boy. So he.set out to diet by eating only one thousand calories a day, a caloric intake unlikely even for a scarecrow. Within seventy-two hours he found himself back to eating a thousand calories before noon, and, of course, to this day he lumbers around no less large. He does, however, feel more convinced than ever that he is weakwilled and worthless. Why cannot this man simply eat more rationally? Many rea-sons operate, perhaps; but one leadifig reason is that he cannot see him-self simply as a normally rational person. He demands that his mind have despotic sway over his whole self and particularly over his appetite for food. He demands that the physical shape that would emerge from the fat resemble--not an ordinary, regular-sized American male moving to the downside of middle age--but a bronze statue of Hercules by Phidias. He will be perfect! The tr.uth is that with that demand he covers a fear that he can have no kind of reasonable sway over his self and his appe- Review for Religious, November-December 1988 tites. He hides that self-deprecating belief under a cover of perfection-ism. A lot of good,'praying people do the same. One mature and experi-enced nun who ha~l pray~ faithfrilly for years could not shake the feel-ing that'her prayer was "not very good." Her prayer was fine, in my opinioh; what needed spiritual insight and God's gracing was her demand that she pray like Teresa of Avila. This woman had not really been will-ing to approve wholeheartedly her own way of praying, and that unwill-ingness by itself had kept her off center and vaguely unhappy for years. Seventh: lust for experience. We need to note first that~today Ameri-cans place, tremendous trust ih our own experiences and feel keen dis-trust of any "truth" not-arrived at experientially. Further, we can be per-suaded rather readily to try anything, from a drink' or a drug to a new kind of prayer. We tend to subscribe to the pseudomoral dictum that, ~if you are able to, then yowought to expei'ience everything. We :are all in some measure like the'New York woman in analysis who reported her exhaustion to her doctor--too much sex, drugs, dancing, eating,° not enough sleep. The doctor asked her why she' did it,~and the woman bolted up and blurted out, "You mean I don't have to do everything I want to do?" She was in analysis because she was not doing what she wanted to do, but.,what her social group made her feel she ought to want to do. She felt ~compelled to experience whatever the group moved into. 'That compulsivity and obsessiveness grows out of an empty~ center. She did not really know what she, herself, wanted todo in,the depths of her.self; she feared the depths of her self. ~, Many of us give ourselves to experiences that diminish our human dignity or diminish our freedom, as~did the woman in analysis. I know. one couple whose children, now beginning to move into their own ca-reers, have. submitted to eve~ry kind of religious :experience, from CCD at home to charismatic~weekends and the permanent diaconate, because the parents hankered after spiritual"experience, not because the children required anything. Some Catholics roam from liturgy to liturgy,oseeking the ritual that,w.ill fill their "needs"~as though Sunday Mass does not rise out of fullness, 'bUt fills an emptiness. In them, actually, it is made to, occasionally and briefly. Eighth: inability to make commitments. Why have so many failed to make firm, long-range commitments? Among the many reasons, Cas-sian pointed out one very basic reason when he described the gyrovagus, the wandering monk who always came to feel that the'monastery over the next.~hill had a better religious life than the monastery he.live~t in. The Mirror in the Field / 829 So he wandered to the next and the next monastery, hoping to become a better monk. Fundamentally, the monk's problem lies not in his mon-astery; his problem lies in his own self. He does not like the monk he is. He does not approve of the monk he is. Or if he does, he does not want to grow into the man that this monastery, with these monks, at this time, will shape him into. So he moves on again and again, unable to make the crucial permanent commitment. A young Texan turned into a living gyrovagus when he went from a diocesan seminary to a congregation's novitiate to taking vows in an order and then to another diocesan seminary. His disapproval of the way he lived in those places seemed to be of those "monasteries"; actually, it reached deep into his own self. I would not expect ordination to fill his emptiness, and if he does accept ordination, his parishes (a succes-sion of them, surely) will have an impossible time making him under-stand that they appreciate him. Another example of the inability to make lasting commitments: A gifted psychological therapist changed cities several times and kept ac-quiring new skills. He even absorbed thorough training in spirituality and spiritual direction. When he was about thirty-five and weary of starting over again and again, he came to understand that he had never really felt the weight ,and value of his very considerable talents. As he let himself appreciate them withoutguilt, and particularly as he consciously built friendships with highly intelligent and success'ful peers, he felt more and more grateful for his own gifts and freer to rejoice in using them with-out having to feel that he was required to. He also felt himself more and more deeply committed--to his profession, to his faith, to his friends, and to the city where he had settled. Then there is the marriage commitment. We can leave aside cases of psychological dysfunctioning, like the California twenty-year-old who left his often drugged wife three months to the day after the church wed-ding, muttering that he had not known whom he was marrying. He had known, actually, and so had his friends and his parents. His actual spiri-tual problem had been that he had not known that he was punishing him-self by marrying her. Among the sane and whole, every spouse faces bone-deep challenges in living out the marriage commitment. For, once married, each feels invited to be a new person by union and communion with this special spouse who invites him or her. She will at times ask herself vehemently, "Why did I ever marry him?" At those times she will be feeling the stress of still becoming and changing in ways intimate to her marriage that she cannot control. She cannot design to make her Review for Religious, November-December 1988 spouse another person than he is, even though as he is he will give shape to herself. If she truly loves herself as a married woman, she will wel-come those new ways of becoming and growing along with him, saying her yes to her emerging self. In the same way, if a husband deeply ap-proves of himself as husband and likes the man who is this woman's hus-band, he will hardly insulate himself from the summons to grow and change that emanate from this woman as she lives and becomes, even though he has no mastery over the ways he feels summoned to grow and inexorably will at times keenly resent them. So monk and professional and married person all either say yes to an emerging self whose emergence none controls all alone, or say no. Our primordial task as creatures remains intact in and through all our free decisions: to praise God for what we are becoming, reverence his creat-ing, and serve him by following where the Spirit of Life leads us--in the concrete. To this list of eight larger flawed realizations of self-love, various writers add other specific ones. Cassian adds monkish indolence, acedia. St. Thomas adds garrulity, prying curiosity, and true malice. He also lists religious diffidence, which means the refusal to grow in the interior life. Could he speak right now, he might add integralism to that, because the rock-bound conservative often clings to externals like Latin rites or neoscholastic formulations to defend himself against a deep fear that his own faith-commitment and believing would not stand up to current chal-lenges. Some centuries later SCren Kierkegaard explored the "despair from weakness" of those who finally cannot let themselves trust the self that God is creating in them. In their turns, Josef Pieper dwells on one grave inability of those who do not approve of who God makes them to be: the inability to take true leisure. And Sebastian Moore shows that those who feel unlovable do not love anyone or anything very much. All their desiring is pallid, so consistently that he names their condition a spiritual disease: erosthenia, a flaccidity of passion. This makes an impressive list of spiritual problems: laziness, inef-fectualness, negative self-image, bitterness, workaholism, perfectionism, the insatiable lust for experience, the inability to make lasting commit-ments, and also acedia, garrulity, prying curiosity, malice, integralism, the despair of weakness, the inability to take leisure, and erosthenia. Plainly, they arise from many different life experiences and in varied life circumstances. Just as plainly, they have many causes and motivations. But in our own day and time, they all readily grow as it were in vitro, from a hollow self, flooded with the nourishing medium of pitiful self- The Mirror in the Field / 831 disapproval or arrogant self-hatred. This unwillingness to accept the self I am coming to be, which can ripen into a disgust with who I am and even a resentful hatred of myself, very possibly makes up the deepest root of sin in our day and time. The Wholehearted Life In the face of such a list of spiritual problems, any talk about solu-tions would show extravagant optimism. Fortunately, I am not discuss-ing here the solutions of many problems, but the escape from or avoid-ance of a single problem: the radical spiritual one of refusing to accept, in concrete particulars, whom God is making me. But even then I intend not to list all the saving activities we might throw ourselves into to solve that single problem, because that would tend to confirm the very mis-taken conviction that underlies the problem, that our own activity comes first in our salvation. Instead, in this last section, I will sketch briefly and from living mod-els how those people live who are very successfully avoiding or escap-ing this foundational problem. I experience them as, and name them, wholehearted. Not that their hearts beat totally integral and without the murmur of human flaws and failings. Rather, they live out of their whole hearts--their selves--just as they find them in this minute. The whole-hearted might twang like an old player piano, but with every note and chord they give God and the world around them all the music they can pour out. I will speak first about the inner life of the wholehearted and then about its external manifestations. What goes on in their spirit from day to day? First, they say yes to this day, to the gift of it and the gifts in it. They not only "live in the present moment"; they approve of the present moment as of a gift. And in that yes they are approving of their personal history and the life they now lead. More, they choose to live glad to be what they now are and to be doing what they are doing (unless, of course, they have come to a time of decision, which they will perceive more as opportunity than as termination). When they think larger, they do not feel guilty about the plenty and the privilege in which they live. To start, they feel grateful for the earth, and for humankind, and for the universe. They feel desires of many kinds, some of them strong. Among them all, they try to keep their de-sire for God in Christ in first place. For the rest of their desires, they take responsibility as well as they can, enacting those they think authentic Review for Religious, November-December 1988 with courage and with equal courage suppressing those they recognize as drawn from unworthy sources (the Spirit of Darkness or of unruly flesh). In all desiring, what they want keeps them connected with the peo-ple around them and in some appropriate measure with current, affairs~ All in all, their desiring shapes up into a great desire to make things all right for the world and for every single person now in it; but their hop-ing does not depend on immediate success in the eriterprise. The wholehearted live in appropriate autonomy. As teenagers, for in-stance, still coming to be individuals they depend heavily on peer'opin-ion. As young adults, vindicating their uniqueness; they live carefully independent of "popular opinion;" particularly about the moral cruxes in interpersonal relations. As spouses, they give and take in thorough in-terdependence. All along, precisely because they like themselves, they are able to stabilize affective relationships. This liking of themselves gives rise in them to what is sometimes called a'democratic personality structure. Negatively, this means that their personality is not bound down by one need or drive or ideology. The spiritually wholehearted are not broadly compulsive; on the con-trary, they live and move in relative interior freedom. I do not mean that they never have some dominant desire or great enterprise in their lives. Some live outof a profound, specific desire. Neither do I mean that the wholehearted do not sin, ev.en seriously. I have known some who did. They sinned wholeheartedly, and if they repented, they repented whole-heartedly-- hating rather the thing they did than the one who did it. A married man high in a bloated corporation gave himself a year or two of lascivious fornication. When he heard the Spirit (his words) summon him back, he submitted himself to astonishing inconveniences and physi-cal discomforts suggested to him as (a long) penance. Put positively, all of the wholehearted can hold some priority and or-dering in what they want to get accomplished, gladly getting at one goal while postponing others without guilt. They can also respond readily to surprise demands, able to set aside their own agenda when they see that as appropriate and not feeling put upon about it. We need to take care here. In my experience, some of us suffer from one or other addiction or compulsion (neatnik, chocolate maniac, or some less acceptable culturally) and yet live truly wholehearted lives. This is a mystery to me, that we can find ourselves broken and power-less to heal the break and yet lead wonderfully wholehearted lives. I take this as truly suffering from the Original Sin and from all those sins vis-ited .upon us without our approval or connivance, or with our forced co- The Mirror in the Field / 833 operation, by alcoholic parents, sexually addicted elders, neurotic supe-riors, viciously selfish peers, and on and on. Somehow we are sum-moned within the pockmarked life that all of us lead to give our yes to God's passionate loving in us. I do not see that holiness is wholeness. Most of us find ourselves with neuroses, mild or severe, temporary or lifelong. If we can, for all that, love what we find and the One who is making it, then we have begun to live holy lives. There is much more to this, but we cannot ignore addictions and com-pulsions and the yes that those of us who suffer them must say to the self that God is making us. For very many of us find ourselves in this excru-ciating condition. All of us need to remember that at the core of every addicted and every compulsive self--the phobic, the masturbator, the child-beater, even the rapist--the passionate loving of God burns on crea-tively. But each of them stands on the brink of an apparently impassable chasm. For no one can be in touch with that creating love who does not love the self within whom it burns, and such a staggering number of us are taught, subtly.and powerfully and with enormous precision, to dis-like or to hate ourselves. The fact is, social psychologists are beginning to discover, addictions and compulsions normally grow out of an inade-quate appreciation of the self or out of self-hatred. Then how are com~ pulsive people or addicts to think of this? The way all of us think: As I say my yes to God's creating love, I will know that I am humbly truth-ful and wholehearted when I rejoice even while I suffer what I am and what is. I am heroically wholehearted when I can set aside any demand on my self that I myself or any other persons or things be as I think they "ought" to be and can take all as I find it. We all do what Paul did af-ter he had prayed three times and the thorn still rankled. The thorn just kept rankling, and Paul just kept on sinning (by his own testimony); but we have no evidence that he got down on himself for that or any other reason. Paul certainly knew his worth, and that is a great, great virtue. This brings me, second, to the ways a wholehearted yes to the Lord manifests itself externally. The first sign is joy. Let the light bulb accept electric current. In-stantly it is full of light and instantly it radiates that light to all around. In just that way, the wholehearted radiate joy. Even when they find in-justice and disorder, they are filled rather with a sorrow that leads to com-passion that leads to action--than with a sadness that leads to pity that leads to self-absorption. This joy gives the wholehearted a definite, in-viting presence. They like who they are and therefore feel no need to hide or wear masks. They are simply present, shyly if they are shy, brightly Review for Religious, November-December 1988 if they are bright, brashly if they are young enough. Moreover, the wholehearted live an effective life, by which I mean they make things happen. They live content that God is giving them this or that job or task to do, and simply do it. And at the same time, the wholehearted usually have a lively sense of duty and of obligation. They seem to trust their own consciences, and they clearly trust that God is ordering all things sweetly from end to end. So the wholehearted tend to rejoice that they are required to do something or to omit something. They do not have time to regret what they might miss; they are too busy enjoying what they hit upon. Their attitude toward authority shows itself wholehearted, too. Here is a hugely complex business, but let me just say that any who like who they are and what God is making of the world really perceive the work-ing of authority in the world and actually accept the consequences into themselves. They feel the pull of authority where it actually appears, let-ting it instruct their understanding and warm their motivation. They also sense its absence even when someone is throwing his weight around, and if they conform when pressed by raw power, they do it while maintain-ing their sense of self-worth. As the wholehearted grow more and more mature, they can calibrate more and more subtly the weight of authority and their own response to it. I could list a number of other external signs of a wholehearted yes to God's passionate loving. The wholehearted, for instance, show a true love for creation and prefer to honor their environment. The whole-hearted seem able to show benevolence all around, not threatened by the rich or pressured by the poor, gracious to the bright and to the doltish. They tend to learn compassion early in their lives, and empathy, too. They approve of their culture even while rejecting values in it that con-tradict their own. Speaking of Americans, they live very grateful to be called to life in a rich, free, exuberantly creative land, and they show their gratitude not by badmouthing the nation, but by doing what they can to leave it somewhat better than they found it. But let me end by pointing out a nearly infallible sign of a whole-hearted yes to God's creating love: the wholehearted can take true lei-sure. What is true leisure? I find the experts--Karl Rahner and Josef Pieper, for instance--hard-pressed to define leisure, but they are clear that people at leisure are out from under production goals and rigid work-schedules and that whatever activities they might engage in do not pro-duce food and clothing and other things necessary to human life. Nei-ther do those at true leisure lie in passive numbness, their imaginations The Mirror in the Field / 835 blank and their energies depleted. Rather, they typically play or muse or commune with friends or create. In general, leisure means the free en-actment of our whole humanness simply out of joy that we live--in this or that way, here, in this place, among these folk. We take leisure while all our regular tasks wait to be looked after, feeling sure that One watches while we let them go. We evoke leisure, not theoretically, but from the concrete gifts we choose to act grateful for, sensed as rising from the pas-sionate original gift of God's creating love. Those who pray and wor-ship God take the truest of true leisure. The Last Reflection And those who have thought these thoughts about inappropriate self-loathing and appropriate self-love, and felt all these convictions about saying yes to God's creative love burning in the core of their life and their self, have given themselves to true leisure. In the measure that they feel consoled by them, and in the measure that they feel joy rising through them, they are giving themselves wholeheartedly to the passion-ate love of God burning in the center of their selves. They are mirroring back to him the blazing love he radiates to them and in them. They are becoming the mirror in the field. Standing on a Wooden Bridge It creaks now more than it used to . seems I left myself standing here only to meet me farther on here. The swirling water carries my frail leaf far beyond the viewing point. Refulgent water, flow me forth unto the Son! Barbara Ann Opfer 2027 Campbell, B-8 Sandusky, Ohio 44870 The Addicted/Dependent Minister Thomas D. Noesen, O.P. Father Noesen was a diocesan priest for eleven years before entering the Order of Preachers. He may be addressed at Aquinas Institute; 3642 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. "that our affections kill us not--nor dye" (John Donne) It is no secret that stress and burnout are high among professional minis-ters. Priests, religious, and lay professionals need at times to get out of ministry for their own well-being and to get in touch with their own de-pendencies. Priests are in the top listings of professionals with alcoholic addiction. The present-day minister struggles with human dependencies and addictions which bring persons to a dysfunctional level of service. Henri Nouwen says that we are wounded healers and that sometimes the minister is more wounded than healer. "Physician, heal thyself" is whis-pered by some of the confused congregation, but greater numbers in the assembly empathize with a more human condition. Men and women are getting professional help in residential treatment centers, private coun-seling, and support groups. Dependency and addiction are commonplace for today's ministers. C. S. Lewis in his book The Four Loves says that the problem with ministers is that they treat the people they minister to as "other." This failure is making ministry less workable. The minis-ter need not be a barefoot cobbler. This paper will look at addictions and the minister. (In this text I use the words dependency and addiction interchangeably; this will become more obvious to the reader as the behavioral dynamics are explored.) Granted that we are part of an addiction culture, the minister falls prey to it more often. The men and women in ministry are people-oriented per-sons; some of the most perceptive and insightful members of the popu- 836 The Addicted/Dependent Minister lation are in ministry: They are insightful and perceptive not only of oth-ers and themselves but of life itself. This latter visionary quality can cause much anxiety and insecurity. The primal angst of life's meaning can bring great stress to the ministry professions. Teaching and preach-' ing daily, these people live what many people would only think of at times of birth, death, or personal crisis. This type of stress and iniensity makes ministers prime targets of addiction. The minister is granted trust by many to know their secrets, deepest feelings, and hidden thoughts. Because of intirfi~acy, the minister carries the confidences of hundreds all at one time. It is rather easy for the minister to meet the needs of the oth-ers and to neglect his or her own. Ministers can become victims to their own intensities. Four terms are used in this paper talking of addiction. They are in-dependent, dependent, codependent, and interdependent. Independency and codependency are both unhealthy. The reader needs to know that any-one can be part of all four at once. The healthiest movement is always toward chosen dependency and interdependency. Codependency Many times the minister comes from a codependent background and unknowingly continues the dynamics in ministry. Adult children of al-coholics are common codependents. The traits of codependents are closely connected with the minister. The codependent is: I. usually a very good person, valuable to society, and often ends up in the helping professions. (One study shows 83% of nurses were from alcoholic homes and the oldest children.) Codependents are nice and likeable people. 2. a victim of low self-esteem and self-worth and makes himself or herself indispensable to others. (In counseling, the codependent coun-selor gets angry at the dependent spouse rescuing the addicted spouse. That adds up to three dysfunctional addicts--thi~ two spouses and the counselor.) 3. a good sufferer. These people make "good" Christians, martyrs, and so forth. The unspoken script of the codependent is "I'm good be-cause I suffer so much." 4. the first to volunteer; always wanting (actually needing) to be of service; always wanting it to be noticed that they are exhausted. 5. selfless to the point of hurting himself or herself. Psychosomatic illness is common in the codepeqdent. Life becomes a pain in the anat-omy. There is a need for aspirin, Bufferin, Preparation H, and so forth, in the beginning, and it can build to major medical care over years. Review for Religious, November-December 1988 Thes-~'five points can define a messiah complex in a nonreligious ter-minology. A codependent is anyone out of a dysfunctional home; so this term codependent is generic: an embarrassing spouse, children, extended-family members. Codependency even links emotional disabilities to un-known ancestors. So what is the codependent's payoff? The people with whom the codependent interacts become dependent on the codependent; this way the codependent feels needed. Naming the Addictions/Dependencies Since ministers teach the gospel statement that the ff~uth will set one free, denial of addictions should have little space to survive. But nam-ing, claiming, and taming dependencies is very difficult because the de-pendencies are cunning, baffling, and powerful. There are two types of addictions: substance addiction and process addiction. Substance addic-tion is an element that can be and should be totally removed. Process ad-diction is something that will always be present, but needs to be lived with constructively and not destructively. This latter addiction is the thorn in the side of most ministers. Addiction is an exaggerated pattern. Rigorous honesty is the key in reading the following lists. Twelve-step programs use the rigorous-honesty term, and this honesty often needs to come from outside the de-pendent. Until honesty is present, the dependent is a victim. Some common substance addictions/dependencies are: alcohol / sex (cas-ual or recreational) / caffeine / chocolate / nicotine / cocaine/heroin / refined sugar / gambling / marijuana / counter drugs / prescription drugs. Some common process addictions/dependencies are: work or busy-ness / sex (casual or recreational) / negative memories / "prayer" and worry / eating disorders (boulimia, anorexia, compulsive overeating) / religious fanaticism / sports (spectator or participant)/"collecting" de-pendent people / exclusive friendships/the Peter Pan syndrome / the Wendy complex / exercise /reading / attention-rejection-exhaustion / greed (compulsive spending) / control-powe'r~manipulation / success-failure- competition / TV ! sleep / anger-guilt-depression / self-pity and co-pity / anger-denial-control. Ministers are often addicted to ministry itself because they are so needed. To be human is to be dependent, but there is a healthy balance which ministers have an obligation to discern. All helping professionals have a responsibility to get their good feelings somewhere other than their clients. Ministers must know their dependencies well in order to min-ister effectively. It is so easy for ministers to project what they them-selves need onto someone else. Really soon--because of the ministers' The Addicted/Dependent Minister addiction bent--feelings get very muddled and quality ministry is endan-gered. Ministers are constantly dealing with others' feelings and can stuff their own. These stuffed feelings can come out as body illness or inap-propriately elsewhere. For example, for ministers to get charged up in anger with the clie ~nt, or with the client's oppressor, or the client's anger at the Church, or the client's anger at government, and so forth, is eas-ier for them than claiming their own inner anger, guilt, or whatever. Granted that these feelings of the client may be very real, still the "dance" of the dependent minister may be to a different tune than the client is trying to play. It is as if one is fox-trotting and the other is do-ing the waltz. Choosing Our Addictions/Dependencies Dependencies are a given to our human condition. Ministers should be model addicts by example; this is where the newer holistic spiritual-ity models can be most helpful. Ministers need to choose daily, healthy dependencies. To list a few: time alone, prayer, reflection, physical ex-ercise, support groups, non-ministry-oriented hobbies and/or friends, and nonprofessional reading. Healthy ministers continually expand and deepen throughout life--this is an integrating process. Unhealthy minis-ters fragment and splinter themselves to meet their needs of dependency and take a flock of disciples along. Healthy ministers need both to mas-ter and be mastered; unhealthy ministers either master totally or become totally mastered. Remember, extremes mark the unhealthy dependent per-sonality. Often unhealthy ministers want to be appreciated (needed) for their wealth of knowledge, fund raising, generosity, cleverness, organiza-tional skills, virtue, leadership, and so forth. None of these qualities can be considered intrinsically wrong, but the ministers' control of them can take away even God's freedom of their use. This is not to say that good is not accomplished by addi~:tive ministers; it is. The problem usually is the unhappiness of the ministers and not always the results of their min-istry. In our Church many of the most rewarded ministers are the most unhe~ilthy addicts. The Codependent Cast of Characters The alcoholic home has taught us much about unhealthy dependen-cies and the roles the members fall into. The minister may often come from a dysfunctional home that is not necessarily alcoholic. The family characters are listed in their usual order. Often the minister is one or 1140 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 more of these characters. Maybe the minister played out one role as a child, a different one as an adult, and maybe even a different role in his/ her professional life. When there is a dependency in a home, the whole family system is dysfunctional. No one escapes and everyone is affected. Those various persons may be described as follows: The dependent(usually a spouse) is the one using the substance around which the whole family unit rearranges itself. The family's individual needs and feelings are not met because of°denial, guilt, and anger. The enabler (usually a spouse) feels responsible for everyone's feel-ings. The enabler usually tries to keep peace, save face, and guard the family secret. The enabler makes ends meet financially and emotionally. The enabler needs to control and needs to be needed. This person thrives on exhaustion. The hero (usually the oldest) tries to keep the family secret by look-ing good at school, work, and so forth. This can be in sports, honor so-cieties, and so forth. The hero is organized, responsibl~, and mature to extremes. The hero is a doer-~cannot stop doing. The hero suffers from fear, loneliness, and stifled anger. The scapegoat (often the second child) is prickly and hard to get along with; he or she appears to be the family problem. The scapegoat often chooses wild friends, gets pregnant in teen years, breaks the law, and gets into substance addiction. Traits of the scapegoat are very diffi-cult and frequently impossible to understand. The lost child (usually the third in birth) often uses isolation for self-protection; lives in fantasy, quietness, and distance; wants to please at all costs; tries to be good but feels bad; has no opinions or feelings to speak of; never causes problems. The mascot (often the youngest) laughs on the outside and cries on the inside; is clumsy, whimsical, and so forth, while trying to focus off the substance; is the clown trying to make the sad family better. This person is hyper, but lonely and scared. He or she is the family medicine man. As ministers try to bring care to a family, the trap may snap and they can easily be caught and overwhelmed. Ministers must therefore have some knowledge of basic dependency dynamics, but, more than that, they should have a keen awareness of their own inner feelings and de-pendencies. They must know their own limitations and be able to say no and to judge when to refer clients. At such times they minister to them-selves. If they do not take care to function at their best, they will be caught in self-pity and/or co-pity games. The minister may say "this whole thing is absurd," "too much The Addicted/Dependent Minister / ~141 analysis," "my past is my past," and so forth. Perhaps the minister is clean and emotionally balanced; that does not mean the parish staff, re-ligious community, and/or office staff share that same wellness. Today more and more ministers are looking hard and long before taking a posi-tion. By the same norms, the employing staffs are screening more be-fore hiring. Many parish staffs are dysfunctional because they are clos-eting one or more unhealthy dependencies. Clinebell (Pastoral Care and Counseling) says that "spiritual vitality and health are contagious; it is caught more than it is taught." Ministers look more and more for an en-vironment of wellness if they themselves are well. The Rocking-Chair Minister Rocking-chair ministers are not on the porch waiting for someone to come and seek help; on the contrary, they are twice as busy as other min-isters trying to get the gospel spread. "Rocking chair' '--because interi-orly they go back and forth like a rocking chair; their feelings and ac-tions are all fuzzy and confused. Nevertheless, they are sometimes bla-tantly forceful people. There are several cycles of feelings and behavior that dovetail together. The following are some specifics of the "proc-ess addiction" mentioned above: Unhealthy Process Healthy Process worry/' 'prayer" anger/guilt/depression attention/rejection/ exhaustion anger/denial/control self-pity/co-pity affirmation/ownership/ integration/letting go anger/ownership/expres-sion/ letting go control/ministry assess-ment/ service/letting go delegation saying no In the following stories, theologies or ministry models vary. But that is not the issue. The issue is the ministers' inner world; that is, the min-isters are not ministering to themselves even though, otherwise, they are very effective ministers. Story A Father Jones worries about his people because they are so poor. They are doing better than they were before he came, and many of them tell him how much they appreciate his concern. He prays that God take care of this poverty and abolish it. Soon he finds himself an-gry at God for not curing the problem, angry at the insensitive bishop and at those in their posh offices for not prioritizing this; he is angry at 1142 / Review for Religious; November-December 1988 the richer members of the parish because they are not removing the pov-erty from their own parish. Burdened with guilt for attacking God, the Church, and his parishioners, Father Jones turns inward; depression and dullness set in and the cycle begins all over again. Father Jones is from a good small-business family that has been reputable in the community for generations. The cycle here is worry, prayer, anger, guilt, depres-sion. Story B Millie is in social-outreach ministry. She started a parish pro-gram and became deanery coordinator in this same area. Now she has founded the diocesan office for reaching out to teenage single mothers, runaways, and abused children. She holds a high profile with the me-dia. It gets money for the project. She loves the attention and limelight, and she feels it is all for Jesus. When given Church honors and civic ac-claim, she rejects it all. Miilie is torn inside between wanting to be no-ticed and disowning the recognition. She has been taking medicine for what her doctor calls exhaustion. Millie has tried to explain to her doc-tor that he is indispensable at this time; she will back off later when the time is right, Millie's dad was an alcoholic, but he has been sober since she was in the first grade. The unhealthy cycle here is attention, rejec-tion, and exhaustion. Story C Tyler is one of those rare, always smiling ministers who do very well with youth. One of his personal goals for youth is sacred space. In both parishes where he has been, he had small, multipurpose rooms that served for recreation and worship space. In the one parish there was a room with a large wooden carved crucifix before the youth took it over; in the other parish, a family had donated a large crucifix in memory of their daughter, killed in a summer outing. In both places Tyler went rounds over the crucifix issue. Always pleasant, he demanded a risen Christ figure. He said we are about resurrection and not all tfiis pain. "I believe it is Easter we are to remember; let's not make our kids hold on to Good Friday." Tyler escalated these issues to maximum polarization; the people became divided. Tyler had theologized his anger, stuffing it away, and used Christ to deny it; using his charism and position, he con-trolled the environment and won out. Tyler had been adopted at two months of age. His birth mother had neglected and abused him. He was raised in a healthy (functional) family since three months of age. Story D Deacon Bernard loves to minister. He would be a priest, but he wanted a wife and family and left seminary in college. Bernard is very well liked by the people because he is so filled with empathy. Recently he has had several counseling sessions with Phyllis. At twen(y-five years The Addicted/Dependent Minister of age, Phyllis has finished two M.A. degrees--one in counseling and the other in theology. Phyllis is very angry with the Church about not being able to be a priest. During many sessions she has talked about how victimized she felt. Bernard shares her feelings; he has felt put off by the Church because he got married. Being ordained a deacon is okay, but he feels victimized also. Bernard and Phyllis are now in their sixth session. In counseling they talk about equal amounts of time on their feel-ings toward the Church. They both agree worship has become harder and harder. They feel they have been good for each other because they share so many of the same hurts. Bernard's homelife is healthy and functional; Phyllis is from a gifted and wealthy family that seems equally healthy. The cycle here is one of self-pity/co-pity. The theologies in these stories are issues, but not as much as the pain and hell these ministers are causing to others. The rocking-chair process addiction is not a matter of standing still; though moving, it is going no-where. All these ministers are gifted and likeable people. These depend-ency stories are more subtle than that of the staggering drunk pastor or the power-hungry director of religious education, but their subtlety serves as a reflection on the movement out of addiction/dependent be-havior. These stories show some common process dependencies, but there are many more. The addict wants to be happy and unconsciously creates a world of "happiness" in which to survive. There are dependency proc-esses not mentioned here peculiar to perhaps one person. The choices and combinations of dependencies are nearly infinite. Ministers are always in need of insight into themselves lest they run the risk of projecting their feelings and dependencies on the client. Minister on the Mend Ministers need to choose not rocking-chair but journey addictions. As they learn from and depend on healthy processes, they become peace-ful within and freer to hear the true struggles of Jesus. The healthy proc-esses that are most easily seen are to say no and to delegate. Both re-quire much tact and articulation if everyone is to remain free. Sometimes the ministry can more easily be done alone; often other factors enter-- such as community, collaboration, and identity--which should be con-sidered and pondered. In any case, ministry always means community. Three more models are listed earlier under the Healthy Process column. Each of these ends in letting go. A common slogan in twelve-step programs is "Let go--let God." Any healthy process will end in letting go. Jesus is clearly the model 844 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 here. To let go (presuming the preceding steps are gone through), much reflection and healthy prayer time is needed. Ministers need time to di-gest each experience. This includes some time alone and some quality dialogue with what is commonly called theological reflection. A good minister has the ability to stand still. The old statement that moved many a minister was "an idle mind is the devil's workshop." Well, the same idle mind is also God's workshop. Each minister holds the key to the workshop door. When one's whole being is idle, the minister is able to again open himself or herself to caring for others. This means that the minister is caring for himself or herself as the first one to be ministered to. Jesus the Dependent? Jesus was human like us in all ways but sin; yet he was dependent on a home for being raised, dependent on scrolls and on people for his learning, and dependent on the elements of survival like food, warmth, sleep, and friendship. The desert fast was Jesus pulling away from food and people to experience more. Jesus was definitely dependent on the human condition. "He emptied himself" as Philippians says; and yet, without abandoning his divinity, Jesus became enslaved to our human condition of dependency. He became all those things that take each of us to the threshold of addiction and dependency. Jesus became fear, doubt, loneliness, anxiety, and anger. These are not sins but feelings. It is in feelings that one touches the threshold of dependency. Jesus con-tinually emptying himself is the movement from addiction. He did not fill himself with any substance to extreme. Jesus chose his dependencies. From the gospels those chosen dependencies seem to be friendship, the (Jewish) word of God, prayer, and telling the story (parable) plus living the story. So Jesus' dependencies are on a deeply human level but always more. Jesus was empowered with the Spirit and worked miracles of heal-ing, but still had to experience emotional suffering and ultimately death. The addiction of power and control Jesus declined over and over. He did not want to be a king, a religious leader, or a political leader. He emp-tied himself; addicts try to fill themselves. Jesus holistically emptied him-self. Flesh and bones like us, he did not even overly depend on his hu-manity. He lived and believed in his human condition and more, Jesus has the same faith in us for he was one like us. Jesus was dependent on "one day at a time." This was living the model of the Father; for him being open and dependent upon the Father became a daily reality. The "daily bread" Jesus talks of is the daily por- The Addicted/Dependent Minister tion of human and divine needs. Childlike Jesus was dependent on the human condition. True addicts/dependents become blind and their world gets ever smaller. Jesus is not blind but tries to ever open us to the larger world that he called the "reign of God." Jesus is the model for the ad-dict in the way he lived the serenity prayer: "God, grant me the seren-ity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference." Three Areas of Interdependence for the Minister 1. The minister in a support system A support system means to have a world of peers. Being able to talk honestly and needfully, the minister opens up, allowing himself or her-self to be the recipient of ministry. Ministry by its nature is a parent role. Therefore to be able to step out of that role into a peer relationship is crucial for wellness. To seek support ministers cannot deny or toy with their dependen-cies. They need to be able to say "I need," "I hurt," "I'm angry," and so forth. Even though these "confessions" need be made at times with clients, here it is a perspective of care for the minister. Here minis-ters make their addictions known in trust. Unhealthily dependent persons function under three unwritten rules: (1) Do not talk about the depend-ency; (2) do not trust anyone because in the long run they will hurt you; and (3) do not feel because feelings can only cause trouble or pain. With such a support system, ministers can appear arrogant or even pious. In a support system that offers freedom to talk and an environment of trust for articulation of feelings, ministers minister to themselves. Any aloof-ness starts to subside in the therapy of the support system. This is a form of interdependence. Interdependence is very difficult to accomplish because it must be scheduled on a regular basis and it must seek a quality rapport with one or more persons. So many relationships (addictions/dependencies) are codependent: "You fix me and I'll fix you." In interdependence the de-pendent lives "rent free" (as AA says) of guilt, manipulation, and shame. Once the dependency is named and claimed, some of the twelve-step programs might be appropriate. Alcoholics Anonymous (AA), nar-cotics anonymous (NA), sexaholics anonymous (SA), and adult children of alcoholics (ACOA) are support groups that meet regularly and are very good. For ministers with any of these addictions, weekly contact with the relevant group would be appropriate. Meeting less often than this is Review for Religious, November-December 1988 a form of denial to a given addiction. Other support systems like clinical counseling might be in order. See-ing a counselor can help one to look at addictive behavior. Again, a weekly meeting would be appropriate for the same reasons of denial. A spiritual director can also be helpful. It is important that the spiritual di-rector also be in spiritual direction. For the minister to ask for direction would be most helpful. If the spiritual director is not in direction, he or she is probably not conscious of personal dependencies in process ad-diction. Diocesan priests can have a support system in "Jesu Caritas" or "Emmaus" groups. The interdependence support area affords intimacy that is construc-tive and articulate. There must be a constant (weekly) point where min-isters are vulnerable, candid, and open. Ministers need intimacy more than most people; they need to have their own needs met. The more pas-toral responsibilities they have, the more difficult will be the problem of a support system that will work. Not finding such a system drives one right back into unhealthy dependency/addiction. This support system pre-sumes skills of great openness, and it demands qualified supporters who are themselves in touch with their own dependencies. God will be part of this because "where two or more are gathered, I am there"; this gath-ering of support will be the human condition laid open, and this sharing leads to the divine. Christianity itself is a support system not in theory only but in expe-rienced reality. To be Christian is to be community. Ministers model Christian living at its best as they acquire ministry to themselves. There will need to be many subcommunities like support groups within the sup-port system. For example, the substance-abuse minister may be in a "non-Christian" twelve-step program; still, the very dynamic is intrin-sically Christian by the fruits that are produced. The support system keeps (or even makes) the minister docile. Our Christian model of support is that the Master is always with us; no disci-ple ever becomes the master in Christianity. Christians are dependent on the Master. The minister lives this posture of the support system with a life of prayer. Prayer must be meditative and routine. Prayer must be daily. The minister will address Christ with "now I feel . . ." and be naked of all dependencies in his presence. 2. The Minister Using Humor as Healing Somewhere in the ritual of each day, the call to play must come. Just as "Let us pray" is ritualized, so must "let us play" be said and done. Ministers take themselves too seriously. To have a sense of humor is to The Addicted/Dependent Minister / 1~47 have a sense of healing. For some a sense of humor can get rough, laugh-ing at another's expense. Even if someone encourages being laughed at, discernment of the healing or hurting nature of humor is needed. Not all humor is healing. The virtue that comes with levity is gentleness. If ministers can laugh at themselves in a gentle and affectionate way, the humor is healing. So often caught in addiction/dependency, ministers may smile at their short-comings and say to themselves, "I'm not a saint yet," and move on with life. Humor does not mean telling jokes or developing talks (homilies) that are funny or entertaining. Humor simply brings us to reality away from our world of illusion. Substance and process addictions do produce a world of illusion. Just watching TV commercials shows us illusions, humor, and addiction. The problem with much in the media is that truth is not the main product being sold. Humor has truth at its core, and per-haps an exaggeration of that truth in humor can make a point of healing. An example of this might be telling a workaholic who is exhausted that you see no reason for him to sleep tonight: "I don't know why you can't work all night writing a major address for that group--you'd do it better than anyone else." Humor brings us to gentleness and reality; another quality is that of forgiveness. Sometimes in the healing of humor more forgiveness can take place than in more formal settings. A wink or kind facial expres-sion can be the forgiving gesture of gentleness that a given moment may need. Humor is a way of recycling the minister in a very healthy way. 3. The Minister and a Sense of Adventure This need of interdependence is seen more readily in retired minis-ters, but it needs to be present all along the journey of development. Min-isters in retirement can be the personifie~ wisdom of God even (or espe-cially) in their decrepit physical condition, or they can be Scrooge-like "humbug" people holding tightly to the past. The sense of adventure always is looking at the present and the future. Ministers can feel that "they owe me after all that I've done for them." Addicted ministers often will want to cause their own early retirement (or death). In aged ministers it is still the world of extremes if addiction is present. In a sense of adventure there is a sense of tomorrow. Ever changing by an open-ness to grace, ministers can keep looking forward to more in their life. The life of unhealthy addiction/dependency always seduces one to be-come fixated. In the interdependence of adventure, ministers respond to and embrace the limited world of themselves and the limited world of their environment. Using personal creativity, ministers can become eter- 1~41~ / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 nal students of life itself. Healthy ministers can be recognized here, with their level of interests always expanding. Self-improvement and educa-tion become an ever present sense of direction for them. They have a zest for life and a loving interest in others. Unhealthy ministers often scorn and condemn the life they see in healthy ministers. This can manifest it-self in competition or gossip or both. Ministers often live in their own professional world, a world no larger than the client's care and working for the community. "All work and no play makes John a dull boy." John is not only a dull minister but an addicted minister. There is a flatness and pity that emerge when the sense of adventure is not maintained on a regular level. Some say that a minister should always be reading a secular novel (and that does not necessarily mean of the Andrew Greeley variety). Friends and hobbies that have nothing to do with religion are excellent for the minister. The priests' poker club does not meet this need because "business" will al-ways creep into the conversation. Ministers can feel lost when not known in some place for who they are or what they are--this is a good chal-lenge to the minister. Ministers who are able to change through self-experimentation, self-denial, and self-ministry will find themselves flex-ible enough to grow in wisdom, age, and grace to the very point of death. Conclusion St. Augustine tells us that we are restless until we rest in God. There are many resting places on the journey of the minister that are anything but peaceful; these rest stops are often addictions. Satiated, confused, and disoriented, the minister quickly becomes less a minister than he or she would wish to be. These pages have looked at some cultural handi-caps in order to help ministers to be more free of them. Ministers living their faith are likely to feel some anxiety and insecurity. In a highly pos-session- oriented society that measures life by production and consump-tion, ministers become models of freedom by living a simple, unattached lifestyle. The "product" is freedom in Jesus himself. Thus, even though most ministers are addicted, they have a world of choice in their depend-encies. Those choices determine their personal happiness and effective-ness. Communal Spiritual Consolation John English, S.J. Many of our readers know at least some of Father English's writings on spirituality. In this article he discusses the significance of communal spiritual consolation for com-munal spirituality. He may be addressed at Ignatius College; P.O. Box 1238; Guelph, Ontario; N IH 6N6 Canada. The understanding and practice of spirituality has tended to focus on an individual person's experience and aspirations, but the individual needs to realize that spirituality is always in a communal context. If spiritual-ity focuses on the experiences the individual has in, through, and of com-munity, there is less danger of an individualistic spirituality. Consider the many examples in the Old Testament and the whole "Body of Chr

Issue 25.1 of the Review for Religious, 1966. ; Religious Women and Pastoral Nork by J. M. R. Tillard. O.P. 1 Metanoia or Conversion by J6seph Fichtner, O.S.C. 18 The Church's Holine~g and Reh~ous Life by Gustave Ma'~t~lei, S.J. 32 Religious Significance of the T.rinity by Bernard Fraigneau-Julien, ~.S.S. 53 Contemplatives and Change ~by Mother M. Angelica! P.C. 68 The Crisis of Creatur~liness by Alfred de Souza, S.J; 73 Sdence and Renewal by Thomas Dubay,] S.M. 80 Freudian Gloom and Christiah Joy by William J. Ello~, S.J. 95 Freedom to IObey by Mother M. Viola, O.S.F~ 104 The Great Waste by Sister Mary Carl Ward, I~.S.M. 114 A Fresh Look at God by Patrick J. 0 Halloran,, S.J. 125 Poems 130 Survey of RomanDocumi ents 132 Views, News, Prdviews 135 Questions and Ariswers 138 Book Rdviews 142 VOLUME 25 NUMBER I January 1966 Volume 25 1966 EDITORIAL OFFICE St. Mary's College St. Marys, Kansas 66536 BUSINESS OFFICE 428 East Preston Street Baltimbre, Maryland 21202 EDITOR R. F. Smith, ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ella~d, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. William J. Weiler, S.J. DEPARTMENTAL EDITORS Questions and Answers Joseph F. Gallen, S.J2 Woodstock College Woodstock, Maryland 22163 Book Reviews. Norman Weyand, S.J. Bellarmine School of Theology of Loyola University 230 South Lincoln Way North Aurora, Illinois 60542 Published in January, March, May, July, September, Novem-ber on the fifteenth of the month. REVIEW FOR RELI-GIOUS is indexed in the CATHOLIC PERIODICAL IN-DEX. and in BOOK REVIEW INDEX J. Mo R. TILLARD, O.P. Religious Women and Pastoral Work It is interesting to study fxom a theological viewpoint the history of the appearance in the Church of religious communities of women devoted to the active life. One basic trait clearly distinguishes them: in spite of the immense diversity of their immediate ends, all these con-gregations find their finality in the exercise of evan-gelical charity in the form of what is ordinarily referred, to as "the works of mercy." Whether it is a question of caring for the sick, of helping the poor, of educating youth, of assisting the~ aged, or of accepting and rehabili-tating certain categories of men: and women, rejected bye our society, the central activity of these communities always issues in a direct love of human beings., If one compares, for example, a missionary congregation of men such as the Holy Ghost Fathers and a missionary con-gregation of women such as the Sisters of St. Joseph of Cluny, it will be seen how, in the same human context and with the same apostolic aim, ~the activity of such religious women brings to e~clesial activity a specific note of realistic charity. The priest preaches the gospel and administers the sacraments; the 'lay brother is occupied with the material needs o[ the mission; but the mission-ary sister attempts to incarnate concretely in the here and now the message of fraternal charity which is at the heart of the good news: she nurses, she feeds, she edu-cates. It is.this area that is her ministry, and in it.she finds the certainty of serving her Lord in all fullness. While in non-clerical religious communities of men (such as teaching or hospital brothers) there often ap-pears a kind of tension arising from the fact that these religious experience a sense of frustration at not being able. to exercise a priestly ministerial function, com-munities of women ordinarily find peace in the humble, day-by-day gift of their charity. This point seems to us to be ecclesiologically and pastorally important; and we would like to study it here ÷ J. M. R. Tillard, O.P., is professor of dogmatic theology at the Dominican House, of Studies; 96 Empress Ave-nue; Ottawa 4, Can-ada. VOLUME 251 1966 ! ÷ ÷ ÷ ]. M. R. Tillard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS from three distinct points of view: first, we shall attempt to point out the theological characteristics of the specific activity of the religious women at the heart of all ecclesial activity; then we shall try to situate that activity of religious women in its direct relationship with the ac-tivity of the hierarchy; and finally we shall discuss the concrete possibilities of enlarging their activities in ac-cord with the needs of the Church today. The Work o[ Charity o[ Religious Women Is at the Heart of the Apostolic Charity of the Church In what does the charity of God's Church for men consist? To this question an answer can be given in the simple statement: the Church seeks to be a genuine in-strumentof grace by which the love of God Himself for men can be effective in the here and now of the human situation. In other words, in her charity the Church does not seek to love merely in her own name; rather she is desirous" that through her and through the mediation of her transparency and of her profound mystery of com-munion with God there may pass the power of the agape of the Father. This is the reason why her love for men is always humble and poor and never triumphant: she of-fers her heart, her hands, her toils, and her goods to the charity of God. It is in this way--and perhaps above all in this way--that she is sacrament in the precise sense that through her and the ministry of her action the One who is defined as Love reveals Himself and acts. He is that Love which does not remain enclosed within itself but which on the contrary radiates out to touch and affect all beings and all the reality of every being. To say that the Church is servant--and this perhaps is her most fitting characteristic in the present time of the history of salvation--is to say that she has no meaning except inso-far as she serves as an intermediary between the mysteri-ous love of the Father and men as they actually exist. More profoundly, it is to say that she is a mystery o[ charity; that is, through the total availability created in her by her love [or God passes the love o[ God Himself. It does not seem to us to be an exaggeration to say that today God wishes to love the world through the heart o[ the Church. In this Iove of God for men transmediated by the Church there is without doubt an internal and essential order. The dominant wish of the Father--and the entire gospel message affirms this--is to lead men to His king-dom, to introduce them already in this life to the inti-macy of His friendship in order that eventually they may share for all eternity in the glory of His Son. Christianity is not to be confused with humanism, however great the latter may be; its aim is always that self-surpassing which we call the "life of grace," and the Church can be faithful to her mission only insofar as she leads men into the fullness of the Pasch of Jesus. This is why at the heart of her action her fundamental preoccupation is always with the Pasch and its two moments of death to sin and of resurrection to newness of life. She exists [or the Pasch; she exists to proclaim the staggering reality of this Day that inaugurates the new times, to make present and active its power in the Eucharist and the other sacra-ments, to keep men in contact with this source of the love of the Father. A Church that would cease to center its life on the Pasch would no longer be the Church of God (Ekklesia tou Theou), the sacrament and the place of agape. Nevertheless, this paschal love is a total love of man in the concrete, and it has nothing of the abstract about it. It does not merely aim at.some small, secret zone of the human person (what is equivocally called "his interior life"). Without effecting an artificial cleavage between the natural and the supernatural, the temporal and the eternal, it encounters the person as he really is in the unity of his person. On the one hand, it penetrates to the very depths of the human being whom it renews and re-creates by grace; on the other hand, its pervasive in-fluence reaches the entire extent of the human mystery. Between the mystery of the redemption and the mys-tery of creation there exists a profound unity, the link-ing bond of which is precisely the paschal event. The Father of Jesus is God the Creator; and the Son who is incarnated in Jesus is just as truly the One "through whom God created the world" (Heb 1:2). Moreover, if God sends His Son, He does so--it is the living tradition of the Church as expressed by Irenaeus--in order to save and to regain the fix'st creation that has been wounded by sin. The Resurrection is not simply a starting point, the ¯ dawning of eschatological times; it is above all the glorification of creation by the entry of a man (its King) into full participation in the Spirit of God. It is the ele-vation and exaltation of nature by the power of agape. For the Father does not give the resurrected Christ a new Body; He restores that Body of His that was born of Mary but now is flooded with divine gifts. He thereby lets us know--a point that we often forget--that His plan is a single one, that in Him there is not one plan as Creator and another plan as Redeemer with a clearcut distinction between them; there is only one plan of love that envelops all of human destiny. This, moreover, is the reason why baptism which opens the door to the world of grace is also the leavening pledge of the resur-rection of nature (Rom 6:5; 8:11; Eph 2:6). Paschal love--of which the Church is the instrument + + ÷' ÷ ÷ ~÷ J. M. R. Till~rd~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS --is, then, a love that is directed to the entire reality of the human condition and that refuses every form of selec- . tivity with regard to the makeup of the human existen-tial. In its ultimate finality it is eschatological in the sense that its overall concern is with leading man to the glory of the Parousia. Nevertheless, it is concerned with the human situation as this is realized here and now. For here and now God loves man; here and now His Father's heart wishes to give His creature the benefits of His in-finite love; here and now He wishes men to know that in spite of their misery they are loved by Him; and here and now He desires :that the world be infused with the re-creation and healing of nature provided by the Pasch of J~sus. More than this, God the Father desires that this love, immediately directed to the nature of man and seeking to heal sicknesses, to console the troubled, and to succor the poor, should be the atmosphere in which there shines forth the revelation of that other dimension of agape which opens on the joy of eternity. In other words, the eschatological aim of paschal love--the prom-ise and the hope of eternal liIe where .there will be "'no more wailing, no more crying,, no more pain" (Ap 21:4) --can be proclaimed and revealed only by the action of ecclesial charity on the miseries and .sufferings of this earthly life. Charitable action in the today and the tem-poral of the history of men is nothing less than the sacra-ment and the seal o[ paschal love. The Church can pro-claim and prepare the happiness of eternity only if she devotes herself to the .relief of the suffering of mankind. It is thereby--and theologians do not seem to have real-ized this in 'a realistic way--that'she sows in this world the first fruits of the world to come. But it should not be thought that what has just been stated is only the reasoning of a theologian. To be con-vinced of this, it is sufficient to reflect with attention on the way in which Jesus realized His messianic vocation. If He fulfilled the figure of the Suffering Servant (glimpsed in the Servant of Yahweh Songs inserted in the Book of Isaiah), he did so not only by His death of ignominy but also by His pedagogy of mercy and.of tenderness (Is 42:!-7). He preached the gospel of salva-tion by "going about doing good" as Peter said to .Cor-nelius and his friends (Acts 10:38). And this good that He did consisted of simple acts of temporal mercy: healing the sick, consoling widows, giving food to the hungry, treating the poor with kindness, welcoming strangers without any attitude of segregation. The proclamation of the gospel was done in this way, and the death on the cross receives its significance only when situated in this climate which reveals th'at its finality is one o[ love and not of.power. And there are other manifestations of this. As a sign permitting John to judge of His messianic mission, Jesus in Matthew 11:2-6 offers His acts of love for the lowly and the poor, following in this the line traced by the prophecies of Isaiah: it is these acts that are the seal authenticating His vocation. In the merciful act of themultiplication of loaves performed out of pity for the needs of the persons who followed Him, Jesus according to John (6:1-66) reveals the profound mean-ing of the sacrament bf His .lbve, the Eucharist. In that case, once again, the act of temporal mercy, far from being merely an occasion allowing Jesus to speak about His doctrine, provides the climate and the atmosphere in which the proclamation of the Bread of life can burst forth. The gift of material bread and the Eucharist are not two acts artificially bracketed together; they are rather two expressions of the same thrust of agape as Paul well understood when he reproached the Corin-thians (1 Cor 11:17-33). Similarly, the washing of the feet (Jn 13:1-20) is not just a simple illustration of the commandment of charity and of the mutual service de-manded of the disciples; it is its seed. One last indica-tion can be given, one which it seems to us has not been sufficiently recognized: the holy women were the first proclaimers of the Resurrection simply because they were concerned to go early in the morning to give the Body of Jesus the care and the veneration that Jewish custom demanded--an act of humble mercy, but by doing it they became the first witnesses of the act par excellence of the mercy of the Father. We hope, then, that the importance of the above reflec-tions is understood. We do not intend to show here what John has so strongly emphasized; namely, that the frater-nal love of Christians among themselves is the sign of their belonging to Christ and thereby a witness to the power of agape. Our intention is to enable one t.o grasp that mercy shown towards all men, whether Christians or not, is the atmosphere which envelops and normally authenticates the gospel proclamation. In other words, we wish to throw light on the fact that we can bring men the good news only if at the same time and in the name of this good news we concretely show men that we love them "not in words, but in deeds--genuinely." For in the humility of their object these acts are the sacrament in which should gradually appear their infinite originat-ing source with its promise of eternal happiness. But this is an eternal happiness that does not permit flight from the suffering of the present but that, on the contrary, involves itself with that suffering in order to sow there already the seeds of eschatological joy. Once again, it is through the experience of the visible and the tangible that God slowly leads mankind to faith in the invisible; ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 ÷ 4. ÷ ]. M. R. Tillard, O.P. REVIEW'FOR RELIGIOUS 6 by the visible dimension of His chitrity H~ leads them to faith in the folly of His, agape." it is when seen in this light that the apostolic actii, ity of religious women of the active life receives its evangeli-cal meaning. Properly speaking, theirs is not the task of preaching the gospel wffh authority: this. fl6ws from the hierarchical function to which they do not have access. Neither are they like militant lay people wiih a inandate to take charge of a milieu and graduMly conduct it to Christ; although these religiohs women are essentially members of the laity, they pertain to a special form 'of lay life officially recognized by the Church and deter-mined by t.h'e directi;c~s of their constitutions which fix the quality of their mandate. Here we should note the confusion that so.me pastors and even some theologians cause by more or le~s fissimilating the life of religious women to that of secular institutes, basing themselves in this. only on canonical texts. Briefly, religious women of the active life do not ordinarily form a part of.what is called the direct apostolate. Nevertheless, they play an essential role in the work of evangelization. For by their day-to-day charitable activity officially done in the name of the Church it is they who assure the gospel of the atmosphere of mercy,, the importance of which we have shown. For. this activity to bear all its fruit, it is evidently necessary that it be disinte~:ested, that motives of the financial interest and of the material prosperity of the community should not take precedence over the apostolic anguish arising from love for men. Let us admit that in this matter there is often room for considerable con-version, especially in countries where religious commu-nities conduct their institutions without any outside con-trol. But under the p.retext of real abuses, one should not make a wholesale condemnation without any distinc-tions. By her religious women the Church creates the visible dimensidn of charity ~which according to the law of the divine pedagogy is an integral part of the work of evangelization. And let us add that their vows add to the activity of sisters an element which married or non-reli-gious militants do not have. For sisters are those who have freely given up human values as fundamental as those of nuptial and motherly love, of the possession of a certain level of comfort; and they have done this in order to give themselves more completely to the universal love of men. Thanks to them if they are faithful to their vocation, poor themselves and hence totally transparent garriers of the love of the Father--the Church is able to reply .to those who question her mission: "Look around and see: the blind see, the lame Walk, lepers are healed, the deaf hear., and the good news is proclaimed to the poor" (Mt 11:4-6). Far from being an obstacle to the evangeli-zation of the world, are not these religious, on the con-trary, its advance troops? Day after day they plough the fields in which the hierarchy sows the word and where other lay people lend support to the testimony of the love of the Father. In a word, these religious ~ire the sign of the love of the Father for poor mankind slashed by suffering. The Action o[ Religious Women and Its Relation to the Action o[ the Hierarchy O~icially--and it is told him from the day of his con-secration-- the bishop is charged in a special way with the love of the poor, the suffering, and the lowly of his churches. He is not simply the functionary which man), imagined him to be before Vatican Council II; he has the vocation of a father. And this implies that his heart is anguished by the suffering of his people. But to discharge this duty (and he will have to r(nder account of it on the day of judgment), he cannot rely only on his own powers and his own initiative. Here, as everywhere in his pastoral action, he must act in com-munion with lay people. This does not mean that he seeks to utilize the energies of the latter for the profit o~ his own projects and plans (this would be clericalism). On the contrary, he labors to arouse and nourish in them a conscientious and realistic grasp of the heavy responsibility that, not as pastors but as baptized brothers of Christ, they also have with regard to the concrete exercise of the charity of God in the midst of the needs of their fellow men, especially of those who suffer. For it is the Church as such, in the living union of its leaders and its faithful, which must radiate the paschal love of the Father. No one. can dispense himself from this law of his baptismal grace. Nevertheless, all are not called to live it out in the same fashion: there are special places in the Body of Christ, and even within the laity chari-table action can diversify itsell: in a number of ways. One of these ways will retain our attention here. It will be recalled that at the beginning of this article, it was said that all active communities of women find their definitive finality in the exercise of the works of mercy. But why is this? The answer to this question will intro-duce us into the very heart of ecclesiology. Let us recall that the mystery of the Pasch takes place not over and beyond creation but in it. The former is not the destroyer of the latter; on the contrary, it saves and elevates it. This is why all created values should hormally become paschal values. Accordingly, the gifts of nature considered in the light of the Resurrection appear as graces, primary and structural graces which 4- + + Religious Wdmen VOLUME 25~ 1966 7 ÷ ÷ ]. M. R. Tillard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8 find their true meaning only in the Church. Everything human, then, is grace; and hence everything human as such should allow itself to be swept along by the power of paschal love. But in the human as it is concretely and existentially realized the differentiation of the sexes, plays a central role, and to ignore it would be a grave matter. Sexuality is not simply an exterior ~nd accidental wrapping cover-ing a common reality: it penetrates to the deepest mys-tery of man and woman and gives a positive determina-tion to that mystery. Each sex has a positive value that it alone is able to accomplish because sex modalizes the human along a given line. Sex, it is true, carries with it the entire essence of the human being so that nothing which defines and situates the latter will be absent from the one sex when it is in the other. Nevertheless, each human sex is under its own proper, unique, and ir-replaceable mode. In the man the human being is mas-culinity, in the woman it is femininity. And it cannot be in the man without being masculinity nor in the w~man without being femininity. Hence, the act of knowIedge, the act of joy, the act 0f love, the act of giving self are all in the man and in the woman but under a mode proper to each. The same is true of the act of pertaining to the Church of God and the act of serving the gospel. Hence the gift of self for the radiating of paschal love passes through masculinity and femininity. These represent the two positive and complementary values of the human through which the love of the Father sacramentalizes it-self. Man (the male) is above all power. He is power in the gift of physical life, he is also power in the domination of the world. In him cold reason dominates intuition. He structures, he legislates, he constructs, and he judges everything with a certain rigor. He likes to dominate, and his physical strength allows him to do.so. Accord-ingly, his proper collaboration with the agape of the Father is better exercised in an institutional ministry as leader of the community, as pastor, as legislator. But the woman is above all offering, appeal to communion, open transparency to the other. She is characterized by meraory and constantly sharpened intuition more than by logical rigor and deductive reason. She is made to receive love (as a bride) and to permit it to be fecund (by motherhood). She is heart rather than dry intelligence, tenderness and compassion rather than justice and sever-ity. She completely tends to the gift of herself in a con-stant care of little things, in the exercise of a delicacy and a kindness that sow joy. She puts flowers in the house and she sings songs. For her this is no waste, and she should not feel frustrated at not possessing what the opposite sex possesses. On the contrary, all this is her wealth; and this wealth is worth as much as that of the male. Accordingly, her proper contribution to the dif-fusion of paschal love should also quite simply assume this morphological, physical, and psychological constitu-tion which makes her what she is. She consecrates her-self especially to the dimension of temporal and spiritual mercy, of tenderness for the poor and the little--to the dimension which we mentioned above as the sign of the gospel Let us add that she alone can do this with per-fection: it is her charism. To say this is not to imply a right to the hierarchical priesthood which would thus be violated. Ther6 is no question here of such a right but of the assumption of the true quality of her being for the service of the gospel. Diversity of functions in no way signifies diversity in dignity. The charity finality of active religious women, then, appears to us to respond to the realism of the incarna-tion of grace in human nature. In our opinion it is one of the signs of the fact that the supernatural respects and saves the natural. Femininity as such with its own proper chdracteristics and its own special tendencies is thus assumed for the sake of the gospel. The motherhood of the Churcl~ cannot be better expressed. But it is necessary to go even further in our reflection. For by a special title the bishop links to himself this special charitable activity of religious women. They re-ceive from him a quasi-mandate, similar to that of the members of catholic action although it is specifically different. This gives to their commitment an official note: they face the. world as the ones officially responsible for the fidelity of the local church to the paschal com-mand of love for the lowly and the poor. It is, of course, to be clearly understood that they are not the only ones with the duty to radiate this agape just as the members of catholic action are not the only ones to give testimony to Christ in their milieu of life. Nevertheless, for reli-gious women this mission is more pressing for they re-ceive it "quasi ex officio": their entire life should be consumed so that, thanks to them, the Church may exist in an act of love and of mercy in the face of the sufferings of the world. The judgment that the world will pass on the quality of the local church on this point depends preeminently upon them. The bishop links himself to them in a notably special way in order that there might be assured the love of the poor which he is charged to maintain in a living and genuine way in his diocese. This is their ministry. And thereby it is seen how they are inserted into the pastoral work of the Church: they represent a chosen group to whom the one responsible for the ecclesial life of the diocese entrusts the ministry of + + + Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 9 ÷ 1. M. R. T~ltard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 10 charity. Hence they are not situated at the fringe of apostolic action; on the contrary, though not pertaining to the hierarchy, they fulfill one of the essential func-tions of the life of the People of God, for, as we have previously pointed out, charitable action forms the at-mosphere of the proclamation of the gospel. This perspective seems to us to be able to restore the breath of the gospel to the life of many communities that are too shriveled up within themselves and that do not perceive with enough clarity the implications of their mission. Overly orientated toward the perspective of the individual perfection of their members--and this individual perfection is clearly not contradicted by what we have said---, they forget that they are supposed to create in the world an evangelical sign within which the gospel can be proclaimed in all truth. It seems to us to be a serious matter when religi6us women vowed to charity feel that "they are outside of apostolic action," that "they are restricted to an activity of secondary im-portance when the world has such a great need of apos-tles," that "they are condemned to works of filling in for others." In such cases the question must be asked whether such religious institutions do not have need of a great movement of "conversion." The Charitable Action of Religious Women and the Needs of the Church Today There is one fact that has heavy consequences for the problem to be considered in this section: most of the religious congregations vowed to works of charity were founded at a period when the State accomplished nothing or almost nothing for the relief of human misery. In this matter the Church played an evangelical role of arousal and took the lead of the movement of mercy in the name of Christ. But today (at least, in the Western world and in the large socialist countries) the State--with the im-mense means that it often has--is occupied with tasks such as the care of the sick and of the old, the education of the young, the use of leisure, the rehabilitation of certain categories of men and women; for all of this per-tains to its area of competency. In this new situation, do religious still have a place? One thing is clear. Wherever religious parallel public institutions and retain their own ~schools, hospitals, or-phanages, it is necessary that these latter, if they are to remain a sign of the gospel, be distinguished less by the size of their activity than by their quality. Between a religious establishment and other institutions there should normally be perceived a difference with regard to respect for persons and to the attention given to them and also with regard to availability, tact, and commitment. A Catholic hospital, for example, should not be distin-guished from a non-religious hospital only by the fact that it affords a certain climate of prayer, easy access to the sacraments, and the assistance of a chaplain. It is further necessary ~that the very way of treating the physical sufferings be marked with the seal of the Spirit which, as St. Paul says, is "love, joy, peace, good temper, kindliness, generosity, fidelity, gentleness, selbcontrol" (Gal 5:22). This should be so much the case that a non- Christian who is being cared for there should feel him-self enwrapped with the love of God. When an officially Christian institution is no longer capablewthe reasons may be diverse---of giving this evangelical witness, then today it no longer has any reason for existing; and its continuance in existence is a counter-witness. It is clearly evident in our day that even in the institu-tions that belong to them religious women cannot carry out all the functions required of them for the welfare of those who come to them; they have need of auxiliaries and of employees. Moreover, it is frequently the State that confides to a given community the charge of an establish-ment of which the State remains the owner and for which at times it chooses the personnel who are to assist the sisters. This is a situation that at times creates suf-ficiently bizarre conditions. But in any case it increases the apostolic responsibility of the community: the com-munity in such a case has the duty of radiating the power of agape also into the active body of workers of the establishment. This stems from the fact of having taken charge of a milieu in order to flood it with the values of the gospel. This is a genuine apostolic activity bearing fruit on three levels: the personnel to whom the true demands of charity are gradually disclosed; the repercus-sion of this conscience attitude on the action of'these men and women; and those who are its beneficiaries. There is infinite need for tact and for suppleness, for complete openness, and for the absence of all proselytism. It is equally necessary that the community should never forget its primary purpose: the manifestation of the mercy of God for the poor, for the little, for those who suffer. In the case of a group of sisters working in com-mon in an institution (this is the only case we are consid-ering here), this situation restores to the community the meaning of its apostolic vocation, imposes on it a perpetual revision of life, strengthens the bonds of fra-ternal love, and compels it to achieve a state of radical transparency with regard to the gospel. For it feels itself being constantly judged in actual situations in the. close and common work of daily labor. And in the community it is the Church that is being judged. And I would say that the Church is being judged more in such a case ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 11 I. M. R. Tillard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS than it would be in cases where militants of catholic ac-tion work in the same circumstances and in the same milieu. The vows--especially that of poverty the apos: tolic value of which must some day be restudied in depth. .--indicate that the community has chosen to act exclu-sively for the kingdom of God and not at all for any earthly ~;ellbeing however limited it may be. In. the com-munity, then, men expect to find a delineation of the Church. Hence let us emphasize that far from decreasing the charitable finality of religious institutes, the situation in which religious must work with non-religious actually extends it: the community must not only work itself for the service of love but it must also lead others to act in the same way and under the same explicit motivation. Nevertheless, "today's circumstances are constantly obliging us to think more and more of another way of exercising this mihistry of mercy. In this case the com-munity as such does not take charge of a given institu-tion. Each sister in accord with her professional com-petence is employed wherever she finds-a position corresponding to the specific end of her congregation. Dur-ing the day, then, the community is dispersed, each of the .religious going to her own place of work. There, in com-munion with the militants whom she may find there, each sister in her work tries to be both an instrument of the charity,of God and an active leaven within the laity arousing them to the call of the gospel. Unlike the preced-ing case, she does not pertain to a group performing as such a given function in the establishment. She is sim-ply an employee on the same footing as the rest, and her personal competence is the only reason for her holding the position that she occupies. In accomplishing her work she is not immediately attached to a group of religious working at her side. She is alone. Often she is in an indifferent "milieu, even in one agitated by forces hostile to the Church. It is there that the. Lord asks her to live her vocation as a religious vowed to the exercise of mercy and to do so through the quality of her work and in the network of social bonds that she creates with the men and women who are around her. _ This is a difficult and complex situation. The religious must not lose sight of the primary end of her institute which is charitable work itself. Hence, her central pre-occupation must not deviate from this central point of a direct and immediate relationship with a'man or a woman or a child to be cared for, educated, or aided in some fashion. She is not primarily sent to lead a militant life after the fashion in which Christians of catholic action act. Her mandate is another one, although---and we will return to this--like all the baptized she also has the duty of becoming leaven in her milieu. Let us not forget what we have developed above at length: in the name of Christ and of the Church the bishop has en-trusted to her in a special way the responsibility of radiating charity under the form of mercy, compassion, gentleness, and tenderness in the face of the sufferings and needs of human beings. She must above all seek this: that through her actions (materially resembling those performed by her non-believing neighbor) there may pass the entirely slaecial quality that the love of Christ Himself infuses into human activity. This is not easy, we admit. But if she does not do this, then she no longer responds to what the Church specifically expects from her for the sake of the gospel. And in this case through her defect something essential is lacking to the life of the local church; an entire dimension of the mystery of Christ is veiled; men and women will not experience the sweet-ness of the God and Father of Jesus. At first sight this function may appear to be less efficacious and less direct than the fact of militant action in a milieu for the sake of sowing the gospel message; than the fact of sharing in the struggles and the anguishes of the other employees and of thereby working for their liberation. Nevertheless, her function is just as necessary from an evangelical point of view. She responds to a ministry that is essential to the Church and that completes and consummates that of the other militants. For it is a question of a different form of action of the same love, of a mandate obliging her in communion with that of the militants to make the visage of Christ appear in the small part of mankind entrusted to the bishop for salvation. Hence, in the con-crete circumstances of her action the religious must always subordinate the other forms of her apostolic activity to her charitable function. It is easy to see in this kind of situation the new im-portance taken by what is called the common life. When she returns to her community, the sister should find the spiritual and loving atmosphere that permits her to reground her forces, to nourish herself with the gospel, and to judge her activity in open dialogue with her superiors and her fellow sisters. The hours that she passes each day in the milieu charged with providing her the means to grow in her union with the Lord must not become for her a heavy load encumbered with a multi-tude of oral prayers and with confusedly arranged exer-cises. Neither must it appear in her eyes merely as a slack period offering a little leisure. What it should exactly be is difficult to say. But it is clear that the essential should be an atmosphere of true prayer, of simple and loving joy. The witness of charity is so often dissipated by fatigue and by nervous tension that there should be a strong reaction against everything (even those things ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 ÷ ÷ ÷ J. M. R. Tiilard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]4 clone under the pretext of devotions or of ancient cus-tom) which irritates the sisters. And it would be good if superiors, would re'member that to work to create in their houses an unpressured spiritual atmosphere is the first service that they themselves can give to charity. Up to this point we 'have reflected only on the exercise by religious women of their ministry of charity in the usual situation of the Church today. NOW it is necessary to ask two questions which more and more appear to us to be urgent: Should not religious women be more in-timately and immediately associated with the matter of pastoral reflection, their charisms between taken into equal count in this area? And can not their participation in the ordinary pastoral ministry be enlarged? Before answering the first question, we must frankly remark that up to now the Church has been contented to ~ttilize the charitable action of religious women and has manifested a certain suspicion with what they might be able to contribute to pastoral reflection itself. Our present day pastoral has been elaborated by r.elying almost exclusively on the qualities proper to the mascu-line sex. This can be attributed to various causes: to the fact that according to tradition access to hierarchical orders is reserved to men; to the fact that in the West the Church's ministers are celibates and thereby inclined to mistrust women; and above all to the fact that our civilization has not yet considered with sufficient serious-ness what is represented at the heart of the human mys-tery by the genius proper to ~oman. We are just begin-ning to awaken on this point; and the awakening is often accompanied by certain feel.ings of revindication and of aggression so that it can become dangerous and entirely lose its meaning. Up to now pastoral thought has had the tendency to see everything frdm the masculine View-point as 'if the masculine sex alon~ represented the human or as i~and this is still more serious--it were the human ideal to which the feminine should conform it-self in order to attain any real value. Hence, the con-stant temptation of pastors has been (and often still remains) to consider religious women on.ly as so many servants to be smiled at from the vantage point of the superiority complex of the strong sex and to,be employed at.will in any kind of work; and they have not sufficient.ly considered them as women capable of perceiving with the penetration proper to their sex precise objectives that escape masculine psychology and as capable of grasping with an original insight of their own the con-sequences of certain decisions. This points seems to us to be a very serious one. It seems necessary to us that the Church be converted in this matter. This does not mean that the Church. should admit religious women to a priestly ordination as some persons are beginning to maintain basing themselves exclusively on arguments of rights to be redressed and of sexual egalitarianism. But it means that the Church should become conscious of the irreplaceable contribn-ti0n of feminine thought and that she should associate sisters more closely with the effort of investigation, judgment, and criticism that is needed for the ordering of the pastoral activity of a diocese, How is this to be done? It would take too long to treat this in a detailed and precise manner, Nevertheless, let us remark that it cannot be a question only of a consul-tation taking the natnre, as it were, of feeling the pulse of the situation but without passing beyond the stage of the preliminary. The charism of the hierarch~ demands thatiit al~vays act in communion with the laity, men and Women. The ultimate decision is without a doubt that of the leaders, a typical act of their own proper p.astoral judgment. Nevertheless, it should be born of a delibera-tion in which the laity are involved as much as the clergy in a frank confrontation of viewpoints and in a common sharing of apostolic perceptions and of dif-ferent psychologies. There is no qnestion here either of demagogy or of feminism; it is simply a utilization of different vocations and of different charisms in an at-mosphere of authentic communion. And this seems to us to be the meaning of authority in the Church of God,. It is rare that a pastoral decision is a purely hierarchical creatior~. It is most often nothing else than an assump-tion by the hierarchy--thereby bestowing the weight of its authority and the guarantee of its charism--of a perception arising among the laity who are plunged, into the experience of the real and then thought about, reflected upon, and discussed by their pastors. Moreover, from the viewpoint of kingly power the grace of orders ~is more a grace of prudential judgment than that of intuition. Invention comes above all from the periphery, from the precise point where the Church is in contact with the realism of the human situation. In this way, then, the grace of the laity penetrates even to.the inner nature of the pastoral function. Among the laity we place in a special rank not only the militants of catholic action but also the religious women who are 9fficially devoted to the ministry of charity. At one and the same time they are women--hence they can voice the neces-sary feminine viewpoint--and they are involved in the sufferings of human beings, knowing not only the latter's complexities and temptations but also their riches. If it is true--as we have shown above--that the ministry of charity is bound up essentially with the gospel and repre-sents a fi'ont line force of ecclesial action, then it seems in-÷ + ÷ Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 15 -b ÷ J. M. R. Tillard, O;P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 16 conceivable to us that religious women should not be fully associated with the work of apostolic reflection that is p]'erequired for all authentic pastoral action. Moreover, why (and this is our second question) could they not receive in certain circumstances (always in dependence on the bishop, rightly understood) the entire responsibility for the organization of the entire chari-table apostolate of a diocese? In the collection of various areas which we group indistinctly under the name "pas-toral activity," is this not one of the numerous domains where women are more naturally competent than men? Why must a member of the clergy always be the head of every diocesan activity? At a time when we com-plain about the lack of priests and exhaust ourselves in imagining the outcome of this situation, it would seem logical to begin by reflecting on our theology of pastoral action and by asking whether as victims of the sin of clericalism, we have not permitted the atrophying of apostolic energies, among them those of religious women. A number of initiatives, undertaken especially in mission countries, show that urgent necessities are obliging the Church to a profound evolution on this point. The right is conceded to religious women to perform certain acts which up to now custom has linked with the person of the priest: they can distribute Communion, take charge of the liturgical assembly on Sunday, and catechize. The somewhat "sensational" cases should not rivet attention on themselves and thus prevent the Church from per-ceiving the numerous, more ordinary forms of activity which she can officially leave to the genius and the con-science of religious women. We have mentioned here the pastoral work of charity, but the same reasons would be valid for the organization of catechetical activity (on the condition that the sisters in charge be truly com-petent and not content themselves, as too often happens, with a hastily acquired and thin layer of catechetics) and for certain aspects of pastoral activity with regard to the family. A few minutes ago we mentioned the example of the women who set out at dawn to embalm the Body of the Lord and become the first witnesses of His Resurrection. Entirely like Mary, the woman who was the first witness of His Incarnation, they are the witnesses of the silent and hidden activities of God which are, nevertheless, His most fundamental ones. Is not woman even on the physi-cal level the first witness and the first receiver of human life as it comes into existence in secret? There is in this a mysterious harmony, sign of a providential vocation. This vocation is accomplished in the Christian bride whose femininity becomes grace and salvation for her husband and their children. It is accomplished in the contempla- tive nun hidden in silence and burning out her life for the Church. It is also accomplished in the religious woman of the active life who bends over human misery to bring it the most perceptible sign of the tenderness of God. The Christian woman has the marvelous and irre-placeable task of becoming the living sign of the Church as Bride and Mother. It is necessary that our pastoral awaken to this vocation of theirs and respect it for the glory of the gospel and the salvation of the world. + VOLUME 25, 1966 17 JOSEPH FICHTNER, O.S.C. Metanoia or Conversion Joseph Fichthe.r, O.S.C., teaches at Crosier House of Studies; 2620 East Wallen Road; Fort Wayne, Indiana 46805. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18 Since we religious are living .in an age of Chuich re-newal and reform, we can ask ourselves the question: What are we contributing to this movement? Is the movement likely to succeed if we merely let ourselves passively be swept up into it? Religious orders have a precedent of active participation in the many past Church reforms. They can take their cue from a fairly long list of orders who, somehow or other, were in-strumental in either initiating renewal and reform or carrying them through. Perhaps the most famous instance of a religious order undertaking reform of its monastic life and thereby lead-ing the way to full-scale Church reform is that of the Cistercians. As Father George H. Tavard, A.A., already pointed out in a lecture to major superiors at Den-ver, July 1, 1964, the Lorraine and Cluniac monastic re-forms spearheaded the whole Gregorian reform within the Church 0050-1200). St. Bernard wrote De consider-atione, a pattern of reform for Pope Eugenius III to use upon the administration of the Roman See. In the thir-teenth century, the mendicant movement of Franciscan and Dominican Friars coincided with the reforms of the Fourth Lateran Council and of Pope Innocent III. It is a fact of Counter-Reformation history that the Jesuits with their military structure and educational purpose and the Capuchins with their simplicity and austerity of life implemented the Trentine reform. This historical precedent comes closer to home when we recall that the canons regular followed in the wake of the Gregorian reform, when, for the first time in history, the idea of reform spread to the whole Church. Charles Dereine, S. J., noted how the canons regular helped to revive eremitical life in the thirteenth century,x The eremitical life did not last long among them because it was encroached upon by lay people, especially the conversi, who looked to the eremitical 1 Les chanoines reguliers au DiocOse de LiOge avant saint Norbert (Louvain~ University of Louvain, !952). groups for spiritual guidance and help (cura ani-marum). At their beginnings, after the example of their leaders was sufficient rule, the groups fell under the influence of the Rule of St. Augustine. But the choice of the Augustinian Kule, whenever it was made, engendered a delicate problem of conscience. Should the charter members adopt the canonical customs then in use or return to the primitive ideal of austerity and poverty? This was the step of capital importance in canonical reform. Carolingian law had granted the canons the right of abandoning private property in order to lead an apostolic life. A few groups opted for the new order (ordo horus in contrast to the ordo antiquus), a way of life which was more austere especially in the matter of poverty. Their option was vitally important, if not difficult, in an age of canonical reform. They had the alternative of affiliating themselves with Cistercian communities. I mention this bit of past history because obviously it stands parallel to our own day. Religious are now in a position to maintain the status quo (which eventually will die and decay); to merge with other religious groups who have similar constitutions, customs, and spirit, or at least associate with them in apostolic works (and this is a conciliar recommendation); or to forge ahead with the Church. It is essential for religious today to recognize and evaluate their role within the context of the Christian life. To fail to do so is to become purposeless and nondescript. They can only begin to reform if they knew beforehand why and how and what and whom they are to renew and reform. One of the aims listed for the present reform, in fact the first on the list, is "to impart an ever increasing vigor to the Christian life of the faithful." s Religious must count themselves among the faithful because of their consecration to God through baptism. Over and above baptism, the profession of the evangelical vows is a super-addition to that consecration . It is indeed a special consecration which per-fects the former one, inasmuch as by it, the follower of Christ totally commits and dedicates himself to God, thereby making his entire life a service to God alone.¯ The role of the religious, then, particularly iri a time of spiritual renewal and reform, is to bear witness for the Church socially and publicly by a way of life which "radiantly shines forth" and shows that "the kingdom ¯ Constitution on the Liturgy, n. 1. ¯ Pope Paul VI, dllocution on Religious Life, May 25, 1964. 4- 4- Cor~erslon VOLUME 25~ 1966 ÷ ÷ Joseph Fi~htner, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS of Christ is not of this world." 4 They bear witness by means of the vows, the three signs "which can and ought to attract all the members of the Church to ~an effective and prompt fulfillment of the duties of their Christian vocation.''~ The Decree on Ecumenism dispels any doubt that vows constitute a mere external show; Church renewal demands a change of heart, a renewal of the inner life of our minds, self-denial and an unstinted love.e If religious are to have a leading role in renewing the Church, they must be in the vanguard of :that ',spiritual ecumenism" which amounts to a change of heart, holiness of life, and prayer. One of the characteristics of the present reform move-ment within the Church is the return to original sources, especially biblical and patristic. At the same time that the Church wants to update herself, she is taking a hard look backward at her beginnings. The very idea of reform conjures up the biblical theme of metanoia, repentance or conversion. Throughout salva-tion history, both under the Old and. New Testaments, God repeatedly issues a call to repentance. What re-newal and reform we are experiencing today fits into the biblical background ofmetanoia. The prophets of old--Amos, Hosea, Jeremiah, Ezekiel --were reformers. They called upon the people of Israel. wandering away from Yahweh to "turn back" to him, to "repent." Here we have the original Hebrew notion of reform translated by the Septuagint but especially by the New Testament into the Greek metanoia. A few examples will have to suffice. The prophet Amos enumerates the natural calamities which befall Israel for its sins; and then he quickly adds almost like a refrain: "Yet you returned not to me, says the Lord" (4:6, 8, 9, 10, 11). "In their*affliction [Hosea is speaking for Yahweh], they shall look for me: 'Come, let us return to the Lord, for it is he who has rent, but he will heal' us; he has struck us, but he will bind our wounds' " (6:1). "Perhaps," writes Jeremiah, "when the house of Judah hears all the evil I have in mind to do to them, they will turn back each from his evil way, so that I may forgive their wickedness and their sin" (36:3). Ezekiel adds the note that the Israelites must make for themselves "a new heart and a new spirit" (18:31). The general prophetical teaching was that Israel, having personally sinned against the Lord, should per-sonally repent. Return to Yahweh meant that Israel should be orientated toward Yahweh and His will be-cause He is its God. Basic to repentance .was the de- ¯ Paul VI, ~lllocution on Religious LiIe. ~ Constitution on the Church, n. 44. e Decree on Ecumenism, n. 7. mand that Israel direct its whole existence to God and unconditionally accept Him in all events. To repent was to obey His will, to trust Him absolutely and be cautious about human help (alliances with other na-tions). Repentance had both a positive and negative aspect to it. By returning to Yahweh Israel would take up a new direction but likewise turn away from evil. Real repentance must be an inner renewal, a renewal of life, which is not possible without divine assistance. When we turn to the" New Testament, we find that it retains the past teaching on metanoia but lends empha-sis here and there. There seems to be more insistence upon the positive and interior aspect, that of changing one's mentality, attitude, feeling. Metanoia supposes error in conduct, repentance for past fault, and a con-version of one's whole person to a way willed by God in order to. ready oneself for entrance into His kingdom. Baptism, faith, repentance, love, poverty of spirit, all enter into the nature of metanoia. Metanoia requires personal responsibility coupled with the gift of God. John the Baptist was the first to take up the prophetic cry: "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand" (Mt 3:2; Mk 1:4). The cry, however, is more categorical because given in view of an eschatological revelation. Conversion is for everybody; it must be authentic, a change of nature from within. Jesus too preaches con-version: "Repent and believe in the gospel"; "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand" (Mk 1:15; Mt 4:17). But he goes beyond the Baptist in realizing the eschatological kingdom in His own Person. The purpose of His mission is to bring repentance: "I have not come to call the just, but sinners, to repentance" (Lk 5:32). The. metanoia which Jesus proclaims is really the will of God, a salvific way of life. One enters into such a way of life by converting or changing into a different man (see Mt 18:3). The close tie between monastic reform and the re-form of the entire Church was never better envisioned than by the early Church fathers. In fact, it is possible to trace historically a progression of the idea of reform from what concerns the individual Christian to monastic life and to the universal Church. The idea of reform became effective as a supra-individual force at a rather early date, particularly in monasticism. Within monasti-cism itself there has been a whole series o1: reforms. Today we tend to apply reform first of all to social entities and institutions rather than to individuals. How effective such a sweeping measure can be, remains to be seen. For a broad, ecclesiastical pattern of reform, follow-ing upon the principles already laid down in the Scrip-÷ ÷ ÷ owoersion VOLUME 25, 1966 21 + ÷ ÷ Joseph Fichtner, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS tures, we have to resort to patri~tic writings. It is impossible, o[ course, to go into anything like a complete survey of their writings, but one can at least gain a few insights from Gerhart B. Ladner's~ monumental work,' The Idea o[ Reform.~ I am indebted to him fo~ the following all-too:brief summary. Ladner draws this definition of reform from Scriptural and patristic sources: "the idea of [ree, intentional and ever perfectible, multiple, prolonged and evdr repeated efforts by man to reassert and augment values pre-existent in the spiritual-material compound of the world." The Greek fathers generally regarded reform as a return to paradise. Baptism begins this reform because it is a return to innocence. Because innocence is often lost and because baptism is unrep~atable, reform is mostly postbaptismal, a long process of many starts. If man is to reform himself, he has to make a conscious pursuit of ends. He starts with an intention rather than with spontaneity or urge or response. The key feature then of Greek patristic reform ideology was the return to a state of innocence through a. continual spiritual regeneration. Man has to be reconditioned into a state equivalent to his original state. Gregory of Nyssa in particular, with his mystical bent, accounted for this development of the Pauline.theme of the "new creature" and "new creation." Now the question, how is man to be renewed, brings us to a consideration of the' second salient feature of reform ideology, a feature found mostly among the writings of the Latin fathers. They proposed that man who originally was made in the image of God should be reformed according to and in the image of God (Christ). Although the early fathers felt that reform meant a withdrawal from the world rather than a penetration of it, or at least a juxtaposition of the sacred and the profane, and hence relied upon monasticism to bring about reform, the idea gradually dawned that the whole Church should undergo reform. St. John Chrysostom, St. Augustine, and St. Hilary of Poitiers were of the earlier mentality. Then under Gregory VII, the idea of reform began to envelop the Church as a whole, and finally Innocent III and Thomas Aquinas extended it to entire Christendom, to the political, socio-economic, and ~ultural milieu which the Church helped to form or in-fluence. Implicit in this idea was the re-imaging of man not only individually but socially. Reforming man to the image-likeness of God was the inspirational idea behind ~Gerhart B. Ladner, The Idea o[ Re[orm (Cambridge: Harvard, 1959). all the reform movements in early and medieval Christianity. A third renewal theme, for which St. Augustine was mainly responsible, was that of the kingdom of God. St. Augustine, ,however, had such a high opinion of the Church as the kingdom of God upon earth which was on its way to becoming the heavenly kingdom that he refused to see any need of its reform. That is why he formulated the idea of the City of God which permits into its environs both sinners .and saints until the sin-ners are weeded out at the-parousia. He and Tertullian (before his defection from the Church) struck a more positive and futuristic note by teaching a' renewal for the better. For Augqstine in particular, fourth century Pelagianism was an occasion to take stock of the ideology of reform. Pelagianism represented a reform movement based upon the belief that man can reform himself and the world on his own. Contrariwise, Augustine fought against the temptation of relaxing personal effort and simply trusting in God. His intention was to strike a balance between God's grace and man's will. Reliance upon God and personal responsibility must go together in order to attain the kingdom of God. In the Christian East and West while the Church was building up, the need was ever felt for individual and social reform. But who was to initiate it? ,Only special members and organisms within the Church's body, namely, monasticism. The East and West differed not merely in reform ideology; they differed too in their attitude toward monastic life. The Greeks leaned strongly toward contemplation, the Latins toward the active life of charity for God and man. The western-minded Augustine mapped out a program of reform for monastic and quasi-monastic life for clerics and lay-people. Such was the principal and practical way in which he wished reform to be carried into effect. The monk-priests and laymen were to join together in the City of God to bring about a renewal for the better. ¯ It is evident from thi~ patristic perspective that re-newal and reform must take into account the past and present and future. If we look back over the condition of religious life since World War II, the thought strikes us. that religious institutes have been passing through a phase of de-velopment. Consciously or unconsciously, they have been engaged in a reform movement for almost twenty years. The movement seerhs to have begun officially with the first ~eneral congress 6f religious held in Rome near the close .of the Holy Year, 1950. At this meeting, on December 8th, Pope Pius XII delivered an allocution in + + + VOLUME 25, 1966 23 ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph Fichtner, O$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS which he outlined three reasons why religious should update themselves: For the changed c~nditions of the world which the Church must~ encounter, certain points of doctrine touching upon the status and condition of moral perfection, not to mention the pressing needs of the apostolic work which you have so widely and so generously undertaken, all these have called you to devote your-selves to this systematic study and discussion. The same reasons prompted the Sacred Congregation of Religious to summon the First National Congress of Religious of the United States at the University of Notre Dame, August 9-12, 1952. Part and parcel of the whole reform movement within the religious orders were the researches into their past histories. The studies in some instances may not have been altogether conclusive, but at least they pointed out lines of development. They put religious into a position where they have to either retain or reject the essentials of their past, paralleling the present-day Church reform which will not abandon the basic struc-ture of the Church, Religious have to decide what sort of growth they want', homogeneous or heterogeneous. To be or remain a homogeneous body, the religious insti-tute, as the schema De religiosis recommends, must faithfully retain its nature, purpose, special spirit, and sound tradition--everything which constitutes the patrimony of the institute. The historian John Tracy Ellis called attention to this necessity in his address to the Paulists on the occasion of the diamond jubilee celebration of St. Paul's College, Washington, D.C., January 25, 1965. In this era of change he advised "the parallel need of holding fast to a sense of history if we are to escape the consequences, of mere change for change's sake, of what I would call--if the term be allowed---the curse of 'presentism.' " The historical researches accomplished at least one thing: they gave the orders more or less a sense of identity. Erik H. Erikson, the psychologist, defined per-sonal identity as follows: The term identity expresses such a mutual relation in that it connotes both a persistent sameness within oneself (self-same-ness) and a persistent sharing of some kind of essential charac-ter with others. Although his definition fits personal identity, it is analogically applicable to the "moral persons" which re-ligious orders are. A sense of identity is most important for normal psychological and spiritual renewal. The man who cannot identify himself is either an amnesia victim or is ignorant or leads a schizophrenic existence. If young candidates entering a religious order cannot identify themselves with it because there is nothing to identify with, the more is the pity. As Pope Paul VI stated in his address to religious referred to above, the work of general chapters is to accommodate constitutions to "the changed conditions of the times"; but it must be done in such a wa~ that "the proper nature and discipline of the institute is kept intact." No renovation of discipline is to be intro-duced excepting what accords with "its specific pur-pose." Therefore, until this accommodation of discipline is duly processed and brought into .juridic effect, let the religious mem-bers not introduce anything new 0n their own initiative, nor relax the restraints of discipline nor give way to censorious crit-icism. Let them act in such a way that they might rather help and more promptly effect this work of renewal by their fidelity and' obedience. If the desired renovation takes place in this way, then the letter will have changed, but the spirit will have remained the same, in all its integrity,s The Pope certainly did not have in mind the ,idea of implementing constitutions to the point where they are voluminous, minutely detailed, and unlivable; for such constitutions can easily cramp the style of religious liv-ing. "Multiplicity of laws is not always accompanied by progress in religious life," remarked Pope Paul "It often happens that the more rules there are, the less people pay attention to them." 0 It is particularly irksome to men, and I suppose to women too, to be ruled by many minute prescriptions. But in the meanwhile; while the constitutions are under study or revision, it will not do to adopt or maintain "the practices which are dangerous to religious life, unnecessary dispensations, and privileges not properly approved" 10 which sap the strength of religious discipline. Is there a behavioral pattern, psychological and socio-logical, which religious can follow in order to promote metanoia for the present and into the future? Govern-ment and business have had psychological and socio-logical studies made to 'guide societies and institutions toward self-renewal. They have begun to understand the processes, reasons, and conditions for the growth and decline in societies.11 Of course we cannot accept the complete structure and dynamics of reform which they use; but they have been able to outline a good, comprehensive pattern of reform. The following, then, will be some explanation of the principles of self-renewal pertinent to religious orders. Religious orders s Paul VI, Allocution on Religious Life. 9 Paul VI, Allocution on Religious Life. 10 Paul VI, Allocution on Religious Life. 11 See John W. Gardner, Self-Renewal, the Individual and Inno. vative Society (New York: Harper and Row, 1963). VOLUME 251 1966 ÷ 4- 4. ]oseph Fichtner, O.~.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS cannot grow as supernatural cells within the body of the Church unless they accept whole-heartedly the natural (that is, psychological and sociological) dy-namics of growth. 1. A society that wishes to renew and reform itself must first of all know itself. It has a sense of identity. As religious we have, more or less, a self-image. Con-fusedly at least all of us have a picture in our minds of the ideal religious, namely, one who lives a Christlike life as distinct and unique. Now self-knowledge is not a still-life picture but a moving picture of self-develop-ment, a continual search for identity. Ordinarily we find knowing ourselves difficult and inconvenient. Yet the more we have a sense of identity, which we can learn in part from our tradition, the more it helps us to plan our future--what or who we want to become. Young members may at times rebel against a tradi-tional heritage, even if it is only the starting point of their rebellion. 2. This brings us to a second principle very closely allied to the first. Self-i.dentity is largely a matter of knowing our past and having continuity with it. Our present beliefs, attitudes, feelings, values arose out of earlier personality formation, earlier learning and ex-perience, all of which is most difficult to shake off. We are more inclined to trust tradition because we experi-enced it. Historians did us the favor of recalling the past and showing how evolution already took place in it. Historians help religious groups to achieve self-knowl-edge, and in this way they serve the cause of renewal. If religious were able to sustain renewal in the past, per-haps they can feel at home with it in the future. With-out ignoring their past, they are oriented to the future and will have a hand in shaping it. The tendency of a society with a past is twofold: to persist or to change. The two tendencies are not diametrically, opposed. In fact, it is wrong to oppose change to continuity; both must be given due emphasis, Our aim should be to endlessly interweave continuity with change. "The only stability possible is stability in motion." ~ Religious do nonetheless face the danger to-day of living in an age when the rate of change has sped up almost to leaving them in the dust. They can expand or grow or change so rapidly and wildly that it will be cancerous and kill the values they want to keep. 3. True religious see and share a vision of something worth saving. This vision is made up of all the motiva-tion, conviction, commitment, and values that give meaning to their life. Only if they believe in something Gardner, SelpRenewal, p. 7. can they change something for the better. Otherwise they will experience a failure of heart and spirit. The self-renewing religious will have something about which they are thoroughly convinced and about which they care so deeply that they will do something about it. Yet each one must beware of being egocentric about it. One little thing that he really cares about deeply, one little thing that he can do with zealous con-viction, gives him extra drive and enthusiasm. That is why long-term purposes or values or goals are so important for us. They have to be relatively lasting in order to determine the direction of change. Should they be fly-by-night visions and goals, they will not enable us to absorb them or do justice to them or will endanger a distinctive character and style of living. The mature religious has a religious commitment larger than himself. He has been given a religious goal not as an accomplished fact; his has to be a seeking and striving for the goal in an ever-renewing way. He will be happy in the s.triving, not necessarily in the attaining of that goal. Small victories will instill in him some satisfaction but never the idea that he has arrived, that his life is fulfilled, or that he can sit back and no longer feel the tension of self-renewal. All of us have built into our nature the hunger for meaningful, goals. They are as vital to our being as breathing. But in a sense we must breathe together. We can live together in a .religious community o.nly if we have some measure of consensus in regard to our goals, beliefs, values. We can come to some rough agreement among the many who share the same ideals. Haggling over details there will always be. No matter how pluralistic our community may be, variety and di-versity and spontaneity should not be allowed to inter-fere with at least a middle ground of ideals, goals, and visions. We do ourselves an injustice if we allow all sorts of individual values to conflict in a careless atmos-phere of freedom and then expect something good to come from them. Such a procedure is equivalent in economics to the false theory of laissez-faire. On the other hand, change for the better is brought about when socially or communally acquired and ap-proved ideals, convictions, goals change. In this way change takes place according to psychological and socio-logical laws. It is possible to change laws, the external marks of a society, without affecting the beliefs, prac-tices, and values of the members of that society. Men commonly live as they think; hence to change their life demands a conversion of their minds and hearts. Their life is bound to change if the set of ideas, feelings, and ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 25, 1966 27 ÷ ÷ O.~.C, R~:VIEW FOR RELiGiOUS attitudes which the individual shhres with the members of the society changes. 4. Any renewal or reform, therefore, ought to be aimed at the individual or person. He must find himself in a ~ort of do-it-yourself movement. He must be free and independent enough, flexible and versatile enough, to be open to change. If he isolates himself from others within his group, if he fails to cross-fertilize with them, he will not change or grow. Anthropologists point out that .much cultural change comes about through bor-rowing from others. Karl Rahner makes the pointed remark in his book, Theology for Renewal: If anyone wants to have the Church changed, he must make himself the starring-point of renewal. For the crldc himself is part .of what the Church is suffering from. For usually his own life is not much of a recommendation for Christianity.~ The same remark may be applied to the religious critic. We are more prone to criticize others than to be self-critical. Each religious has personality traits which favor either change or persistence (conservatism), and no doubt many have a mixture of the two. A characteristic of the self-renewing religious is that he 'has a mutually fruitful rapport with others. He is capable of accepting and giving love and friendship. Without such love and friendship, the person enters into rigid isolation. The loving and friendly person depends upon others and can be depended upon. He discovers common tastes, interests, is accessible, and is willing to lend assistance. He makes others feel important. In so doing he is one of the many within a vibrant society who inculcate mutual trust, affection, and identification (as opposed to carping criticism, character asshssination, and envy). They are the cross currents through which his change for better is possible~ 5. Is there enough freedom in the religious way of life to allow for change? This question has to be asked because psychologists and, sociologists maintain that only a free society is open to inquiry, experimentation, and action. A society where reasonable room is left for personal taste, self-expression, and self-criticism, will grow. Its framework or structure is not such that it throttles thought and discussion of new ideas. Authori-tarian or bureaucratic or legalist.ic societies may not throttle thought and discussion but they tend to chan-nel and control them. Freedom, however, has to be balanced with some ~Karl Rahner, Theology ]or Renewal (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1964), p. 87. determinism within a society. No individual religious should expect to be left to run rampant, to do as and what he pleases. Freedom may result in license. Or it may alienate him from the community. A religious who is left reasonably free may achieve responsibility; but if he seeks too much autonomy he may end up with self-pride, an inflated ego, and not really fulfill himself at all. Every person has limitations and has to come to terms with his membership in the community at large. The social side of his nature should make him realize values which are grea~er than his individual needs. 6. Change and improvement usually spring up in a community that has felt-needs for them. Felt-needs are the beginning of any renewal and reform. So religious must examine their felt-needs. There can be no metanoia unless the community feels needs, and the needs have to be felt widely enough for the majority to do some-thing about them. The first task of renewal and reform is the always difficult task of facing up to ourselves. What gap do we find between the ideals we profess and the realities we practice? How far apart do our constitutions lie from their fulfillment? We have to give due credit to the prophetic and visionary eyes and minds among us who see and speak out against the unreality or even hy-pocrisy of religious life, to whatever degree they may exist. Young members, especially, who still have the ideals and goals fresh before them, can help the rest to an honest self-examination. We do them a good turn too by telling them that their task is to re-create values in their own conduct and not simply look at them idealisti-cally. We should assure each generation of religious that they have to refight the battle and inject new life into lasting ideals and goals. 7. No amount of organization, law-making, socializing will help a religious society to renew and reform unless men in it have the determination to 'foster renewal and reform. It is men who make up a society, not laws or regulations or structures. It is the personal environ-ment that makes for growth, for between the individual and his environment there takes place something like osmosis. If we do not set a pace by our ideals and ex-ample for incoming members, then they will believe little is expected of them. Of whom much is expected, the chances are that he will expect much of himself. If he is educated and motivated in an atmosphere that en-courages effort, sacrifice, selflessness, it is very likely that he will be affected greatly and respond mightily. We take it for granted that the young religious is a free and responsible individual. He will become in-creasingly responsible if we set up for him a meaning- VOLUME 25, 1966 29 Joseph Fichtner, O~.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ful relationship with larger and higher goals. We help him to free himself fr6m the "prison of utter selb preoccupation" by instructing and leading him to place himself in the free and willing service of these goals and the people aiming at them. In !religious life as well as in any other, family li~e' included, deeds speak louder than words~ Authentic religious conduct preaches a better lesson than 'any homily, sermon, conference, or instruction. None o~ us learns much from principles, but we do emulate people who are high-principled and exemplary. Ordinarily we do not analyze or list the virtues we wish to develop, unless it be during meditation; but we identify our-selves with the people who have virtue. That is why all of us~ young and old, need models in our imaginative life and in our immediate environment, models of what we at our best can be. At the risk of too much repeti-tion, it should be said that what we do communicates moral and spiritual values much more than what we say~ Words are cheap. Action calls for assuming burden-some and sacrificing responsibility. It is a summons to spiritual greatness. . ¯ 8. The danger in religious life is tO think we can progress morally and spiritually without changing psychologically, socially, culturally. Change for the better---evolution and not revolution or historic acci-dent- usually is a slow, complex, unpredictable, some-what risky and painful process. It does not happen by leaps and bounds; it takes time and hard effort. When practices change, they will not be acceptable evenly .throughout a whole community. Some will wel-come them, others resist them. So many factors and their interplay go into change for the better that they make change complex. And the complexity of a changing situation .brings with it a risk. It takes prudent analysis and prognosis to decide whether the risk is reasonably calculable. Members of a society who are "on their toes" and not living "in a rutV will forestall wild and revolutionary change. Historians have shown that long-range changes came about through successive small innovations, most of them unobtrusive and anonymous. People who lived through the innovation would probably admit that they did not know it was happening; But innovators who herald a change with a flourish of trumpets should ex-pect to meet up with attack and opposition. That pain accompanies growth is inevitable; everybody wants to grow and progress but nobody wants the pain that goes with it. 9. The locus of metanoia is the minds and hearts of ~he individual members of the community, in those minds and hearts where there is the hidden potential of zeal, dedic~ition, a sense of. mission, leadership, and a willingness to sacrifice. Members who have closed minds and hearts have lost the capacity for metanoia. For the self-renewing man there is no end to the development o[ his abilities. He is not a gold mine left unti~pped or an oil well only partially drilled. Psychologists advise us of the fact that many go through life without nearly salvaging all their ta, lents.~ Nothing can be so decisive for refiewal as the use of G6~l-given talents. Conversion VOLUME 25, 1966 31 GUSTAVE MARTELET, S.J. The Church's Holiness ¯ and Religious Life + ÷ + Gustave Martelet, s.J., is professor of fundamental theol-ogy at 4, Mont~e de Fourvi~re; Lyon (V), France. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS V. RELIGIOUS L~FE AND PREFERENTIAL LOVE OF JEsus CHRIST The* eschatological character of virginity contributes spiritual depth to our understanding of religious life; we must now analyze the latter in still greater detail. Having begun by considering the holiness of the Church (I), which appeared inseparable from her mystery as Spouse (II), we saw that marriage represents sacramentally a mys-tery whose content is spiritually appropriated by virginity (III). This insight illuminated the eschatological meaning of virginity and exposed its motivating drive, a preferen-tial love of Christ (IV). This love throws the greatest light on religious life, and it is in function of that love that our first comprehensive glance at the state must be cast--the concern of the present section. We shall examine the na-ture of religious life'in iiself, its dependence on the mys-tery of the Church, and the significance which consecrated virginity retains today with regard to religious life. 1. Nature o[ Religious Life We do not pretend to supply an exhaustive treatment of this vast subject, for that would simultaneously entail a consideration of the history of the Church, of canon l~aw, * This is the second part of Raymond L. Sullivant's translation of Saintetd de l'Eglise et vie religieuse (Toulouse: Editions Pri~re et Vie, 1964). The first part of the translation appeared in the November, 1965, issue of the REvzE\v; and the rest of the translation will be printed in the March, 1966, issue. When completed, the entire trans-lation will be issued by the REvmw in a clothbound edition. Notifica-tion of the date o~ publication of the clothbound edition will be made to all those who send a request for this notification to R~vmw ro~ R~mmos; St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas 66536. The request for this notification does not constitute an order for the book and in-volves no financial obligation. of liturgy, and of dogma; but we shall present its meaning from the viewpoint which we have set for ourselves.04 When considering the importance of virginity in the thought of the fathers, we must resist the temptation to construct a strict parallel between that state and the re-ligious life and to reduce the one state to the other. The adoption o.f this excessive view is done from a de-sire to augment the grandeur proper to virginity. While we have seen why there is little danger of overestimating its value, still a careful analysis establishes that virginity founds the order of virgins and not the religious life as such. To be sure, the history of consecrated virginity as that of widowhood with whicti it has much in common05 eventually meshed with the history of religious life itself. But regardless of the progressive absorption of the order of virgins into that of nuns, a fundamental difference pre-vents the loss of their separate identities: religious life re-quires and consecrates not so much virginity as chastity. We a,re grateful to Father Mogenet for an unpublished ex-planation of the point: Since St. Paul's day, the Church has had a too sensitive awareness of the virginal dignity of Jesus and our Lady not to recognize its exemplarity. She has exalted the charism of Virginity and has honored Christ's virgins who have been mem-bers of the Christian community since the first century. Never-theless, when religious life developed as the more or less con-scious response to the three evangelical counsels, no one thought of restricting it to virgins. The deserts, as later the monasteries and the convents, received converted sinners, married men, widowers, and the chaste single as well. And al-though virginity is a privileged state in following Christ, it is not an indispensable condition. It would seem that St. Peter had been married. We can almost say that Christ's call takes no account of the past. It draws the hearer from family life, from the project of founding a home, to the sacrifice of human love. The summons commits the aspirant to a continent exist-ence which requires perfect chastity as its normal state. This condition permits religious life to become, for those outside its ranks and most notably for the married, the support and model which it should always be.~0 Conse-quently, it is clear that religious life cannot be reduced to virginity alone. For even as the value of the latter arises ~ On this point a generally recognized role is played at the present time by Father Ren~ Carpentier's book, Li]e in the City oI God (New York: Benziger, 1959); the volume has the merit of never separating evangelical perfection and the mystery of the Church. m Andr~ Rosambert, La veuve dans le droit canonique jusqu'au xiv~ si~cle (Paris: Dalloz, 1923); on the status of consecrated virgins during the fourth and fifth centuries, see, for example, Jean Gaude-met, L'Eglise dans l'Empire romain (iv"-v~ siOcles) (Paris: Sirey, 1958), pp. 206-11. ~ Bishop Huyghe, whose writings on religious life are well known, put a great emphasis on this point in his speech to the Council on re-ligious life; see D.C., v. 60 (1963), col. 1590-1. ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Li]¢ VOLUME 2S, 1966. ÷ Oustave Marteleg, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS from the preferential love of Christ which consecrates it, love can vow true chastity to Christ even when virginity has been humanly destroyed. Recognition of the prefer-ential love of Christ is equally important for a proper un-derstanding of poverty and obedience. Christ's call can be directly traced to His command to sell all one's goods (Mt 19:21); and the example of St. Francis as well as that of Father de Foucauld emphasizes the close relationship that unites poverty to love of the Poor One par excellence, Christ Himself. The same can be said of obedience. Whether obedience is linked with the demands of common life lived in conformity with the vita apostolica,6z or whether it is explained (as was done in the Rule of the Master adopted by St, Benedict) with reference to the role of the abbot as Christ's "vicar" in ac-cord with St. Luke 10:16: "Who hears you, hears me," or whether obedience is primarily envisioned as an "imita-tion" of Christ in His dependence on His Father as ex-pressed in St. John 6:38: "I have come down from heaven not to carry out my own will but the will of him who sent me," 68 makes no difference: in every one of these view-points, obedience is an integral part of religious life even though the present canonical form of the vow of obb-dience dates only from Carolingian times.69 Nevertheless, in its case also condition and essence must not be con-fused. Obedience, as poverty and chastity, is a sine qua non condition of the religious life. But can we say that it is its very content? The answer is yes, to the degree that by its suppression religious life would be emptied of one of its specific obligations. But the answer is no, if by mak-ing obedience the content of religious life one comes to forget that religious obedience attains its goal only by as-suring the reign of the will of Christ over our own will. Hence the organized exercise o£ the three counsels truly manifests the nature of religious life but only to the exact extent that this exercise reposes directly upon the love of the Lord, aims at imitating Him, and~emanates from His mystery through the power of the Spirit. The explana-tion, previously established when defining the eschatolo-gical meaning of virginity, should help us understand the ¯ z M.-H. Vicaire, L'imitation des Apdtres. Moines, chanoines, raen. diants (iv~-xiii~ si~cles) (Paris: Cerf, 1963). ~s De Vogii6, La communautd et l'abbd, pp. 128-9. n~ Catherine Capelle, Le voeu d'obdlssance des origines jusqu'au xii~ si~cle. Etude juridique (Paris: Librairie g~n6rale de droit et jurispru-dence, 1959), pp. 153-79, dates the juridical birth o£ the vow o[ obe-dience from a Chapter of 789; but as she remarks on pp. 208-13 it is necessary to wait for Yves of Chartres in the eleventh cer~tury for a theory of the vow over and beyond the practice of obedience. On the . relationship of the three vows to religious life see the discourse of Paul VI given on May 23, 1964 in the English translation, REVIEW KELtg~OUS, V. 23 (1964), pp: 700--1. point, since the spiritual basis of virginity is the desire to belong to Christ in an absolutely exclusive fashion. A point raised by the rule of St. Benedict in its fourth chap-ter, "The Instrument of Good Works," is of utmost per-tinence in this matter: "Nihil amori Christi praeponere," says the great legislator: "Put nothing before Christ's love." The axiom comes directly from the Vita Antonii. St. Anthanasius there depicts St. Anthony "repeating to all that they should desire none of the world's goods in preference to the love of Christ." 70 One wouId search in vain to find this central idea expressed with more lapidary compactness. And who would be better authorized than St. Benedict to condense western monasticism's raison d'etre into a concise formula? The same thought appears in the seventy-second chapter of the rule to explain the ardent zeal which monks should have: "They will prefer absolutely nothing to Christ who deigns to conduct us all to eternal life." 71 And it is the eschatological note that gives such complete fullness to the formula. It is because Christ "is the beginning, the first-born from the dead (that in everything he might be preeminent)" (Col 1:18) that nothing must be put before Christ and that one should die to everything rather than die to Him who is Life itself. Hence His priority as the Lord over all things and over ourselves--"Everything is yours but you are Christ's and Christ is God's" (1 Cor 3:2)--must be trans-lated on the level of love by an exclusive preference for His Person and by an unconditional desire to follow and imitate Him alone. Accordingly, all monastic life, as all religious institutes afterwards, crystallizes around the practice, of the three evangelical counsels with a view to assuring the rigorous ascendancy of Christ's ways over those of the world. Since Christ is completely despoiled of material goods (He "has not a stone on which to rest his head" [Mt 8:20]), since His own relationship with others does not take carnal generation into account ("Who is my mother and who are my brothers?. Whoever does the will of my Father who is in heaven, he is my brother, my sister, and my mother" [Mt 12:48]), and since He does not exercise His liberty except by delivering it up to the will of His Father (Jn 6:38), religious life will accordingly be defined as a ca-nonically determined break (even if it is not always spir-itually accomplished), with the possessions of the world by poverty, with carnal generation and conjugal love by ~o P.G., v. 26, col. 865 A, a citation derived from the previously men-tioned unpublished work of Father Mogenet. On the Athanasian au-thenticity of the Vita Antonii, see Louis Bouyer, La vie du saint ~lntoine (Saint Wandrille: Editions de Fontenelle, 1950), pp. 15'-22. ~ Citations of the Rule of St. Benedict are made according to the text of Dom Philibert Schmitt. + Religious Lile VOLUME 25, 1966 Ousta~e Mar~eleg, Sd. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS chastity, with personal hegemony over self by obedience. This triple rupture defines, by way of three complemen-tary means, a unique and single preference which should e~]ectively animate the religious' entire being, And if man is, in effect, a relation to nature through possession, a re-lation to the other thr~ough love, and a relation to sell through liberty, then poverty, chastity, and obedience are the triple condition of one and the same preference: the preference for Christ over all the goods of the world', sac-rificed to Him who appears as the One Necessity, the pref-erence for Christ over carnal generation, and even more so over conjugal love, sacrificed to Him who appears as Love itself, the preference for Christ over our own indi-vidual liberty, sacrificed to Him who appears as the only Lord. Understood in this manner, religious !ire is the applica-tion of the call: "Come follow me," in which tradition has always seen the principle of life according to the coun-sels. Directed to the rich young man in Galilee (Mt 19:21), Jesus' personal summons is ceaselessly repeated by the Spirit in the ever present reign of the resurrected Christ: On the basis of a love for the Lord of glory alone, the Spirit founds the movement of grace that is religious life. As a way of life in keeping with the evangelical counsels and canonically defined within the Church, religious life is first of all the choice of an end and only secondly a sys-tem of means. It is a response which presupposes a call, a canonical institution commanded by a spiritual love.It becomes an institution only because it was first an inspira-tion; it becomes the letter of a rule only because it was first the spirit of the Gospel. And if it is true that the counsels themselves are still a letter when isolated from the Spirit from which they live,r2 it is also true that the letter of religious life takes form from the letter of the Gospel only by the charismatic mediation of the Holy Spirit Himself. Religious life assumes a bodily form only when the Spirit breathes into souls the soul of the Gospel. This soul is none other than the spiritual preference of Christ over all things in keeping with the words of St. Benedict cited above: "Put nothing before the love of Jesus,Christ." r~ By constructing this formula for his sons and for all of those who would hear the faithful echo of the Gospel through i(, St. Benedict initiated his followers into the well,founded hope of "eternal life," that is to say, of "the life lived forever with the Lord," the anticipation" 7a Dom Lafont gives strong insistence to this point in the work cited in footnote 7, pp. 170-83. ra On the centrality of Christ in the gospel message see de Grand-maison, Jesus Christ, v. 2 and v. 3, pp. 3-346; and R. Guardini, Das Wesen des Christentums (Sth ed.; W0rzburg: ~Werksbund-Verlag, 1958). of which is the proper mission of religious life in the Church. By this preferential love of Jesus Christ, religious life, far from living in isolation from the Church, enters, as does virginity, into her most profound being and shows itseff subject to her. 2. Religious Life's Dependence on the Church We are speaking here of the whole Church for the serv-ice of which religious life exists, as we shall see in the last section. But for the present we wish to consider in a gen-eral way the essential dependence of religious life on the hierarchy and on the Christian community itself. By first drawing attention to marriage and its dependence on the Church, we shall better understand the position of reli-gious life. A. The Church and the Christian Couple Many of the faithful are indignant (and some of them ventilate their dissatisfaction in the daily press) over the fact that the Church through her magisterium wishes to impose a conjugal ethic on them. Although there are sometimes unjustified clerical probings into the private lives of couples, this indiscretion is not the object of the litigation. The latter arises from the Church's right to is-sue obligatory laws in the conjugal order. Contraception is not the only sensitive area; problems of a similar na-ture cluster around the subject. We do not propose here to solve any of these problems but only to indicate the spirit with which the intervention of the Church in such matters is to be accepted. In so doing, we shall contribute to the understanding of the relations that exist between the Church and religious life. Christian marriage is the sign of the 'union of Christ and the Church. The spousal charity of Christ and the Church must consequently be reflected in marriage if it is to obtain the transparency of a sign. To avoid saying that Christ has not assumed flesh in its entirety, we must recognize that all flesh must bear the mark of Christ and exercise that paradoxical docility which the Spirit de-mands of it. Christian conjugal ethic is dominated by this end. It has no other reason for being than to assure to the human love of the partners that spiritual clarity befitting the sacramentality of their love. Christianity assumes re-sponsibility for the most authentic prescriptions of human ethics; but in making them both more urgent and more imprescriptible, it demonstrates the need for transparency which the sign should have and the latter's ability in Christ to follow Him. That is why no home can be more human or purer, more united or freer, more self-sac-rificing or happier, humbler and more transfigured, than the home in which the light of Christ shines and where 4- 4- 4- "Religious Life VOLUME 25, 1966 . Gustave Martelet, ~,. $~1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS His flame burns. It is thu"s apparent ~hat the Church can never sacrifice the conjugal ethic since the human love of the baptized must reflect, even in the flesh, the sanctity which she represents. The objection of those Christians who maintain that the Church cannot pronounce on :subjects which Chris~t did not discuss is indeed fragile. Christ's sile,nce, while ap-parently impressive, is quite relativ6 when one reflects on the manner in which He spoke'of tl~e indissblubility of the conjugal bond (Mt 19:9) a~nd of foregoing the works of the flesh "in view of the kingdom of heaven" (Mt 19:22).' Even if Christ had~ not.spoken, one could not declare the Bride in.competent tq d~e~fine :t,he standards "of the Gyoom to those who represent the mystery itself. Christ. would have shown little respect for His Bride, in fact, He wohld have shown outright distrust for her and lack of faith in the:intuitions of which His Spirit is the .guarantee, if He had not endowed His Church with the. right and the duty "to.speak" in an area where the bridal mysyery which she lives directly orientates the spi.ritua! underst.a.ndin~ of the couple's love. Yet the Church's authority does not sup-plant Christ in His mystery. The 'former relies on the lat-ter; she thus rejoins the profound life of her children--a life which is sometimes resisted but never denied: The latter know that they will never truly communicate with Christ through their love if ~they reject the manner in which the Church forms and guides their consciences. B: The Church and P~eligious Life If she takes so much care with regard to the sacrament of marriage, the sign of her bridal mystery, the hierarchi- Cal Church watches nb less jealously over religious life: If in the free holiness of the married she wishes to see 'the bldssoming of an image of what they become in and by th~ sacrament, she cannot be disinterested in ~hose Who pretend not only to represent but to spiritually actualize the v.ery love. of the Bride as it is directed in its entirety toward the Groom. The Church's ~igilance over the sac-ramental ~ign of her nupti_als in marriage can only be re-doubledin the case of the spiritual~ fulfillment 9f thesd huptials in religious life. The lat~er trul)i exist~ in the .Chu.rch~.only when i.t is discerned; judged, a~proved, con-trolled, 'su~pb.r~ed, afid'criticized.'lS)i hier~irchical action, 1.oc.al" orsupr~me;, of which it ~an neither atiempt nor de-s~ re to be free. ¯ This essential function as judge" and. guardian is never brought t~o fulfillment not only because human weakness is forever prone to compromise :what gener'osity 'in th~ SpirivoHginal]y envisage~l and ~romised but a'l~o b~cause ~ov~'g" ingpi~a~ion Wtiic-l~ giv'e~"-'birfl~ ~0 ~eligioh~ life" ig never dulled and because from the flight to the desert to the ransom of captives, from the highest conte.mplation to the most obscure nursing service, from ancient Carm.el to. modern Nazareth, from the monastic 9rders to the secu-lar institutes, the Bride must al.ways discern the various ways" in which the Groom inspires her through her chil-dren. Let it suffice to state that religious life, charismati-cally given to the Church by Chrigt Himself, exists in the Church only as canonically submissive to her law. More-over, if this strict submission does not des.troy religious life but~ rather makes it flourish, the reason is that throUgh this submission religious life finds its own truth. Publicly "recognized" by the Church as a privileged "way of holi-ness, religious life understands itself as the flowering within the Church of the Bride's mystery of loving re-sponse to the Groom's love. Religious life's dependence on the mystery of the Church is not only hierarchical but is also connected with the entire Christian community. The evangelical coun-sels which mold religious life do not make the pi:eferen-tial love of Christ become a monopoly of the monastery. Every Christian--and, strictly speaking, every man--is called to this love; and the precepts of the Sermon on the Mount are directed to every member of die Church "as the norm for the moral conduct of the baptized." 74 While' it is true that as far as the manner of loving Chri~ alcove all things and of thereby entering into the love of God is concerned religious life represents a privileged state, still it is of absolute necessity for no one. Although pos-sessing a universal value of exemplarity, it is imposed only on some, and then by a determined vocation. Holiness is never automatically assured those who commit themselves to this way of the vows; and there is no doubt that many Christians remain more faithful to Christ in the world than certain religious do in ,their monasteries or convents. Hence, religious have no grounds for' Complacendy or for a disparaging attitude toward those who are not mem-bers of religious life. The person who becOmes a religious enters a state of life which he may be unworthy hence humility is necessary for him--but which of itself initiates him into a perfect love of Christ--hence depre-ciation by Christians of such a life is impossible. Religious life, then, does not exist in order to divide the Church b~ absUrd rivalries over the better and the less good but on!y in order .that, the sovereign love of "Christ may increase and'that the life of the vows may assume at the depths of it-self the evangelical traits of the Lord. Never regarding it-self as opposed or superior to anyone, religious life must always be at the service of all men by means of those who ~* Lafont, "$aintet~ du peuple de Dieu," p. 1~5. + + + Religious Life~ VOLUME 25, 1966 39 ÷ ÷ ÷ Gustave Martelet, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS attempt to live it out and who take care not to betray .its ideals. Such is the dependence of religious life on the Church for the service of which it is born and must perdure. It is judged by the. hierarchy with a view to benefiting the common spiritual good of the entire Church. Like con-jugal life (and because it refers to One and the same mys-tery but in a different way), religious life cannot destroy its dependence on the Church as a whole, whether it be a question of the hierarchy who judges it and supports it in its fundamental inspiration or whether it be a mat-ter of the faithful whom it should stimulate to the love of tile Lord and by whom it is itself stimulated: "God or-ganizes his holy ones for the work of the ministry in view of the building up the body of Christ, until we all attain (o the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ" (Eph 4:12-~). Hence, despite (or, more accurately, because of) its integration into the life of the Body, religious life retains an irreducible original-ity which we shall have occasion to discuss later. This originality, which integrates religious life into the Body while simultaneously differentiating it, does not suggest separation or exclusiveness. This is why its full canonical development does not prevent the possible renewal of forms which historically preceded it. C. Religious Life and Virginity or Consecrated Widowhood It is easy to understand why the order of virgins and widows was practically absorbed into that of nuns during the course of history. When reading the recommendations to virgins and consecrated widows made by St. Jerome, St. Ambrose, or St. Augustine,75 to limit our consideration to the western fathers, one receives the impression, con-firmed by history, that these women be.longed to a state of life in which equilibrium was maintained with diffi-culty. A certain kind of exterior protection was lacking to many of them, and thht "sweet odor of Christ" which initially stimnlated their resolutions sometimes evapo-rated in lamentable circumstances. By endowing Christian generosity and the desire to consecrate oneself to Christ with a defined monastic framework, religious life quite ¯ naturally almost completely absorbed the order of virgins and that of consecrated widows which were formerly overexposed to many dangers. Spiritual situations, which 75 For example, Cyprian, Liber de habitu virginum (P.L., v. 4, col. 439-62; Ambrose, De virginibus (P.L., v. 16, col. 187-232), De virgini-tare (ibid., col. 265-302); Augustine, De sancta virginitate, (P.L. v. 40, col. 412-28). On widowhood, see Ambrose, De viduis (P.L., v. 16, col. 233-62); Augustine, De bono viduitatis (P.L., v. 40, col. 4~II-50). were still unstable, thereby received a precise form. This was a good thing from one aspect, but frdm one aspect only. For a valuable diversity thus tended to disappear even though there do exist within the Church Christian individuals or groups who without becoming conventual religious consecrate their virginity or widowhood to the Lord. This non-conventual exercise of religious consecra-tion of self has regained favor in our day to an unusual degree. Many Christian women,TM desirous of living their bap-tismal regeneration in the form of absolute consecration to Christ, receive no call to abandon the world where family, children, profession, business, .and situation ex-pect and demand of them a daily, total devotedness. In the minds of these Christians the consecration of their vir-ginity or widowhood to Christ does not necessarily iden-tify itself with the practice of leading a religious life apart from the world's structures. Without criticizing those who follow a more classical road to perfection, they demand little more than the three vows of religious life to express their gift of self to the Lord. Their borrowings may also include certain organizational aspects of life and the tone of a definite spirituality, but they do not usually exceed these features. They desire to take religious life from its conventual conditions in order to implant it in the world --which that state had justifiably abandoned in the be-ginning. The reasons justifying this abandonment of the world and assuring to convent and cloister their incon-testable values (though these have not always been uncon-tested) thus permit the conception of new forms of reli-gious life. The spiritual break with the world which should always characterize religious life can operate in an entirely interior fashion without imposing a rupture that may be described as a sociological or, better still, a conventual one. On the contrary, the structures which are most typical of the world can become the condition of a highly intense though less apparent form of religious life. In all this the ideal of the secular institutes is recog-nized. The latter represent one of the most original ex-pressions of religious life in the Church today.77 Duly 76 Cardinal L~ger reminded the Council of this fact. He also in-sisted on the fact that there should not be too rapid an identification of consecrated virginity with religious life: there are persons who de-sire the first but who perhaps are incapable of the second (D.C., v. 60 [1963], col. 1593). This was doubtless the meaning also of the re-marks of Bishop Huyghe (D.C., v. 60 [1963], col. 1594). r~ For an overall view of the matter see Jean Beyer, Les instituts s~culiers (Bruges: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1954). Consult also the same author's "La vocation s~culi~re," Nouvelle revue th~ologique, v. 86 (1964), pp. 135-57, where complementary data are given On the situ-ation of secular institutes at the present time. On Father Beyer's book see the remarks of Father Carpentier, "Les instituts s~culiers," Nou- 4. 4" Religious Li]e VOLUME 25, 1966 41 encouraged by Roman authority,rs this new state is em-barking, it is our belief, upon other realizations which it virtually contains and which go back to ancient formulas whose significance is by no means exhausted. The term "secular institutes" designates greatly differ-ent kinds of groups.79 Besides such institutes as Opus Dei which has the attractiveness of large-scale dimensions, there are other groupings whose aims and methods are more modest. The members ofthese latter groups think less in terms of vast, extensive actions than in those of an unreserved gift of self to the Lord; their way of life calls to mind more the reed than the oak. Since the end pur-sued in these groupings is less the secularization of reli-gious life than the consecration of profane existence, many specifications of religious life which are and no doubt should be characteristic of secular institutes appear less necessary to these groups. Thus, in the absence of common life, the observance of obedience and poverty is difficult of realization. Furthermore, obedience and pov-erty, even when maintained for good reasons, would imply in these groups a dependence and control which are not indispensable for the spiritual ends envisaged by the members of these groupings. Accordingly, the different positio.n taken up with regard to certain modalities of the religious life formally considered does not arise from a weaker desire for Christian perfection nor from an initial lukewarmness; it is rather the result of a different inspi-ration. It is not a question of criticizing the values of re-ligious life or of protesting the help to be found in reli-gious life, whether conventual or secularized; it is rather a matter of consecrating virginity or widowhood to the Lord while allowing freedom from many determinations which this consecration has assumed within the frame-work of religious life properly so-called ~and which con-tinue to characterize--legitimately so--secular institutes. The desire to return to formulas less rigid even than those of these institutes is the desire (and it is not necessarily chimerical) to return to the ancient formulas of conse-crated virginity and widowhood. Gustave Martelet, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS velle revue thdologique, v. 77 (1955), pp. 408-12. And see the more re-cent remarks of Karl Rahner who clearly shows that members of secular institutes are, in the Church, genuinely religious even though in and for the world they are lay persons (Theology Ior Renewal [New York: Sheed and Ward, 1964], pp. 147-83). ~s The two fundamental documents are those of Pius XII: Provida Mater of February 2, 1947, and Primo [eliciter of March 12, 1948; English translations in T. Lincoln Bouscaren, S.J., and James I. O'Connor, s.J., The Canon Law Digest Ior Religious, v. 1 (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1964), pp. 143-55 and 157-61. ~ At the end of Father Beyer's book on secular institutes will be found a list of fifty-eight existing groups with a brief description of each. We have already mentioned the weaknesses shown in the past by this way of life, weaknesses.that necessitate a real sense of prudence in this matter. But the present sit-uation is not entirely the same as that of past ages. Reli-gious life has benefited from centuries of experience; it exercises a decisive influence on the effort of every Chris-tian to reach perfection. Accordingly, what in past ages religious life would have reduced to itself, it can now re-frain from absorbing, allow to grow, and even protect in its own way. In this way virginity and consecrated widow-hood could regain their own particular status outside of conventual or secularized religious life and beyond that life Of the baptized that retains all legitimate Christian rights with regard to marriage. Being canonicaIly more supple than any known form of religious life and at the same time having the spiritual seriousness of a complete giving of self to the Lord in the Spirit of the gospel, con-secrated virginity and widowhood would then represent in our world a way of pertaining to the Lord to which Christians, not well adapted for religious life, could feel themselves called in order to live an intense life centered on Christ and the gospel and based on a total consecra-tion of self which spiritually transforms one's life without modifying it socially. A similar procedure which could revive in the twen-tieth century one of the most venerable but also most threatened institutions of Christian spirituality would suppose a profound renewal of schools of spirituality gathered around the great orders, both monastic and apos-tolic. By remaining or becoming centers of a profound religious spirit aiad by renouncing any control which would in any way limit the freedom of action of the men and women who seek a support that is purely spiritual, religious orders could provide an enormous service to Christian women, to speak only of them, by offering them a permanent and profound consecration of self to Christ in the world without entering the religious life in the proper sense of the word. For the sake of concretizing the matter, is it necessary to say that the matter discussed here is that of a profound renewal of third orders and of "third congregations"? Yes, if one wishes to put it that way; but the renewalmust be a radical one permitting the spiritual training that is given to take complete account of modern conditions of life; furthermore, the spiritual heritage drawn upon must provide souls with a truly profound in-troduction both to the Lord to whom they consecrate themselves and to the world for the benfit of which Christ frees them. Although these possibilties are offered only as sugges-tions, still the preceding considerations concerning simi-larities and differences between consecrated virginity and Religious Liye VOLUME 25, 1966 43 ~ustcwe Martele~ S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS religious life supply a foundation for them. Forms of con-secration to Christ are of an infinite diversity within the Church. Some of them are completely new; others reclaim ancient practices and endow them with :a new spirit. It is to the latter type ~hat adaptation of secular institute formulas for the purpose of consecrated virginity and widowhood is related. In this the approbation of the Church will be necessary; but so also will be the inspira-tion of the Holy Spirit whose preeminent role at the very base of religious life must now be explicitly considered. VI. LOVE OF CHRIST AND THE MYSTERY OF THE SPIRIT The role of the Spirit is irreplaceable in acquiring the love and knowledge of Christ: "No one can say: 'Jesus is Lord' except by the action of the Holy Spirit" (1 Cot 12:3). In order to understand the true sources of religious life in the Church, it is therefore necessary to speak first of the Spirit as the revealer of Christ. The point is an es-sential one in Scripture. After Pentecost, when St. Peter announced the identity .of Jesus for the first time in Jeru-salem, he cried: "Let all the house of Israel, therefore, know assuredly that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified" (Acts 2:36). But before reaching this conclusion, St. Peter had already ex-plained: "This Jesus God raised up, and of that we all are witnesses. Being therefore exalted at the right hand of God, and having received from the Father the promise o[ the Holy Spirit, he has poured out this which you see and hear" (Acts 2:32-3). It is thus the effusion of'the Spirit by Christ which reveals His own glorification and which even constitutes it in a certain way. Jesus is riot the Lord with-out being, in keeping with this title, the One who gives us the Spirit. The Son's glorification by the Father in the Resurrection and His dispatch of the Spirit from the Father are two aspects of the mystery that are rigorously correlative as the Gospel explicitly proclaims: "Neverthe-less, I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Counselor will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you" (Jn 16:7). And similarly: "But when the Counselor comes whom I shall send you from the Father, the Spirit of truth who pro-ceeds from the Father, he will bear witness to me" (Jn 15:26). o The dissensions raised by these texts--and others to ¯ which we shall refer later--is well known. The Orthodox interpret them as a guarantee of the complete dependence of the Son and the Spirit in regard to the Father, while we see in them the acknowledgement of the equality which the Son receives from the Father with regard to the eternal procession of the Spirit. It is the Filioque quarrel on which we shall not delay,s° We have mentioned the matter, however, since it is not without pertinence, usu-ally unperceived, to our subject. For while insisting more than our Orthodox brothers on the eternal role of the Son in the procession of the Spirit, we mugt not fail to remember the complementary role of the Spirit in refer-ence to the Son. The point is as vital to the theology of the processions as it is to the economy of the missions,sl And in fact, if it is true that the spiration of the Spirit cannot be understood without relating it to the Son in eternity since the ~piration is nothing else then the act by which the Spirit owes to the Father and to the Son His eternal existence as a divine Person, it is also true that we risk overlooking the light which the existence of the Spirit sheds in its turn on that of the two other Persons. For the Father would not be the Father of such a Son, who is con-substantial, that is, equal in nature to His Father, and the Son would not be the Son of such a Father, capable of communicating His own undivided divinity to His Son, if the One and the Other were not associated "spirators" of the Spirit. It is because the trinitarian life reaches completion in the procession of the Spirit that it can also begin in and by the generation of the Son. The entire mystery of the Father and the Son is found in that of the Spirit who results from their love and who is their very love, the eternal sign of what can be called His transcend-ent possibility. The trinitarian mystery is really conceiv-able only because it is the mystery of a God "who is Spirit" (Jn 4:24). For a better understanding of the trini-tarian mystery, it is not sufficient to say that the Son re-ceives from the Father the power to spir~ite the Spirit un-less one immediately adds that the Spirit, spirated by the Father and by the Son acting in common, is also the meas-ure and the sign of the unfathomable mystery which en-velops both and to which initiation would be impossible unless the Spirit Himseff were given us. It was to arrive at this truth that we took the preceding detour through trinitarian theology, for we could not truly know the Son and through Him the Father, in the revealing economy of the Incarnation and of the Church, unless the Spirit played His irreplaceable role of revealer and witness of Christ for us. It is this central point of view which we shall now attempt to illuminate. 1. The Mystery o[ the Spirit in His Relation to Christ + ÷ A. Necessity of the Spirit in Understanding Christ The temptation to believe that Christ could be reduced to purely human dimensions is not a chimerical one. "Is See Appendix A. See Appendix B. Religious Lile VOLUME 25, 1966 ÷ Gustave Martelet, . $.1o REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS he not Jesus, son of Joseph, whose father find mother we know?" the Jews asked (Jn 6:42). And it is true that Hi~ human accessibility enters into Hisl role of Mediator. "That which we have heard,, which we have seen wi~h "our eyes, which we have looked upon and to~tched with our hands, concerning the word of life, we announce to you" (1 Jn 1:1-2). It is in this way that Jesus reveals to man "what noeye has seen nor ear heard, nor the heart of man conceived--what God hhs prepared for those who,,love him" (1 Cot 2:9 citing Is 64:3). This human accessibility o'f Christ, and through Him of the Father, is the very con-dition of revelation and is in a way identified with it. Not only did Jesus say: "No one comes to the Father except by me" (Jn 14:6); but He made the even more radical statement: ".Philip, who has seen me has seen the Father" (Jn 14:9). Hence,.it is evident that God's revelation in Christ .supposes the humanity of the Son who through that humanity takes on our own. But His humanity is precisely the humanity of the Son; accordingly, one does not enter the trinitarian mystery through it without hav-ing been introduced into it by the Father. "No one comes to me," said Jesus to the Jews, "unless the Father draws him" (Jn 6:44). And to Peter who had just recggnized and confessed Him as "the Christ, the son of the living God," Jesus declared: "Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jona! For flesh and blood have not revealed this to you but my Father who is in heaven" (Mt 16:17). It is "not of flesh and blood" but of the Father in the gift which He makes us of the Spirit. Jesus' words concerning the Paraclete in St. John have the same meaning. It is good that Jesus departs in order that the Spirit may come making it truly possible to know Jesus: "These things I have spoken to you, while I am still with you. But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you" (Jn 14:25-6). And Jesus also said: "I have yet many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own authority, but whatever he hears he will speak, and he will declare to you the things' that are to come. He will glorify me, for he will take what is mine and declhre it to you" (Jn 16: i2-4). Without the Spirit Christ will always remain for us in the order of "the flesh" which Jesus said "avails nothing" (Jn 6:63). In his turn, St. Paul affirms: "Even though we have known Christ according to the flesh, at present we no longer know him in this way" (2 Cor 5:16) but only ac-cording to the "new creation" (2 Cor 5:17) which is the work of the Spirit. And the Apostle tells ns in the Letter to Titus: "And when the goodness and loving kin~dness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of deeds done by' us in icighteousness but in virtue of his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and by the re-newal in the Holy Spirit which he poured out upon us through Jesus Christ our Savior so that we might be jus-tified by his grace and become heirs in hope of eternal li~e" (3:4-7). Similarly, in the Letter to the Galatian's: "BUt when the time had fully come, God sent forth his Son~. so that we might receive, adoption as sons. And because' you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into your hearts, crying 'Abbal Father!' So through God y0u"are no longer a slave but a son, and if a son then an heir" (Gal 4:4-6). It is, then, through the Spirit that the Father attracts us, beyond the ways of flesh and blood, to the very knowledge of the Son, just as one must be re-born by the power of the Spirit (Jn 3:5) if Christ is to in-troduce us into His otherwise impenetrable kingdom. Since such is the case, the truth of Christ, though at-tested by history, is not naturally accessible as a simple fact of our experience. It depends on testimony from above which does not destroy our intelligence but trans-forms it by giving it n

Issue 61.2 of the Review for Religious, 2002. ; Examen .Living with God Growing Older Religious Eife Perspectives MARCH APRIL 2002 VOLUME 61 NUMBER 2 Review for Relig4ous helps people respond and be faithful ~ to God's universal call to holiness by making available ~to them the spiritual legacies that flow from the charisms of CathOlic consecratea life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address 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. ©2002 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 applicatign to the Editor, Review for Religious. L VING 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 Afin Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp ~Adarmiaens G~.nadu dJoinan S. CFelling Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Bishop Carlos'A. Sevilla SJ Miriam D. Ukeritis CsJ MARCH APRIL 2002 VOLUME 61 NUMBER 2 contents 118 feature Examen: Persons in Relationships Joseph A. Tetlow sJ provides new insights by focusing examen on our many personal relationships in daily life. 129 137 living with God No Rapine in the Holocaust: Eremitical Life Today Karen Karper Fredette surveys some of the different forms eremitical life has taken in a fresh flowering in church life today. Metaphysical Self in Other Mystical Traditions James J. Magee defines metaphysical self as one's self residing in God and God residing in it and then examines this term as it appears in Christian, Buddhist, Hindu, Jewish, and Muslim (Sufl) mysticism. 146 growing older Aging: Spiritually Present to the Burning Bush Geraldine M. Wodarczyk CSFN reflectively enters us into her six-year experience of living among her own congregation's aging and prayerful sisters. Review for Religious 166 Coping with Repetition: A Spirituality for Ministering to the Elderly Helen Jean Novy HM proposes some spiritual considerations to guide our responses to the repetitiousness of sick/elderly people. 169 religious ~i~e perspectives Medaille's "Means" and Religious Life's Renewal Joan Wagner ssJ focuses on six "means" derived from Father Medaille's writings that nourish religious community life. 183 The Decline of Religious Life: A Success Story Michael Dominic W. Ledoux OFM asks whether the next task for religious congregations is to let go of our hold on institutions and ministries and allow them to find a charism based upon their own stories and histories rather than being too strongly attached to religious communal stories. " 191 Membership and Leadership: An Organic Whole Beatrice M. Eichten OSF sketches out the patterns of interworking between leaders and members that enhance effective leadership in community life. flepar men s 116 Prisms 202 Canonical Counsel: Exclaustration: Further Considerations 211 Book Reviews March-April 2002 115 prisms Jesus' transfiguration was a favorite passage of the Jesuit paleontologist Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. With his own description of evo-lution progressing by crossing thresholds, he found the transfigured Jesus giving promise of crossing the threshold from being Jesus a marginal Jew to being the risen Christ Pantocrator. Whatever our response to evolutionary theory, the crossing of thresholds gives insight into words and images used to describe the mysteries of our Catholic faith. We seem to be unaware that in faith we have crossed a .threshold between commonsense language and language bursting with faith realities. For exam-ple, our scripture and prayer language in the Lenten and Easter seasons describes redemption as our being purchased at a price. Sometimes this has led to the preaching and imaging of God paying off the devil by Jesus' passion and death. So we--the human race-- were bought at the cost of Jesus' death in order to release us from the grip of the evil one. At other times, it seems that our language has seen God as being appeased or satisfied by the pain and suffering and blood shed by his Son. And we have wondered: What kind of God is this? The New Testament writers built upon the imagery of the Hebrew Scriptures and presumed a poetic under-standing of the religious world. Following Scripture and inspired by their own culture and times, theolo-gians, artists, and spiritual writers over the centuries have all contributed, with mixed results, to various ways of understanding and celebrating the central mystery of our salvation/redemption. In the United States, with R~view for Reli~o~s our sometimes sanitized religious worship removing us from devotional or emotional involvement, we still tend to slip back to a rather morbid focusing on physical pain and the shedding of blood in Lenten prayer and especially in the Holy Week triduum. Perhaps we find ourselves praying with an unhealthy fixation on pain and suffering as the way to God. We need to acknowledge that Holy Thursday has more than just a chronological precedence to Good Friday. The Eucharist is key to a solidly Christian approach to the Passion and Cross, one that is psychologically and spiritually sound and healthy. As St. Ignatius Loyola points out, Jesus' institution of the Eucharist is "the greatest mark of his love." We may be surprised that it is not Jesus' passion and death that help us to understand the Eucharist, but it is the other way around. The Eucharist shows us that Jesus holds nothing back from us in his love. He gives all that he is, sacramentally, to be the food and drink of our life, a life in the same bloodline as God. The word redeemer from its Hebrew derivation points to one taking on the obligations of blood or familial relationship. In itself redeemer does not imply pain or suffering. In the Hebrew Scriptures redeemer describes God in this familial relation to his chosen people. In Jesus we see God fulfilling the redemption of all peoples. By instituting the Eucharist, Jesus intends that the sacramental "nowness" of a blood relationship--the reality of our being adopted as God's sons and daughters--is to be celebrated in our daily living. We have the saying that "love costs." On Holy Thursday Jesus is showing sacramentally that he pays whatever it costs. That is how much he loves us and loves his Father. All our scrip-tural words about payment--ransoming us with his blood, pur-chasing us for a price, and so on--are images, sometimes confusingly used, looking towards the heartfelt truth that "love costs." But God is not paying off anyone. Jesus is not buying us back from the devil. It is the reality that "love costs." Jesus shows us the face of the God who does not count the cost to show his love. The Eucharist is our key to all the events of the Passion and Death. The key presents itself to us every time we look at the crucifix, every time we come forward for Communion. We are invited to cross a faith threshold, thereby experiencing anew God as Love and our identity as beloved. David L. Fleming SJ II7 March-April 2002 JOSEPH A. TETLOW feature Examen: Persons in Relationships You are likely to take account of your relationships with others whe'never you make the examen that St. Ignatius Loyola recommends. But why? Deep down in our own hearts, is there not plenty for God and me to do, without distractions from all sides? Actually, no, and for good reasons. The first reason comes from revelation. The human person is created in the likeness of a God who is One only and also Three Persons. This impenetra-ble mystery reveals to us that each of the Persons has identity only in and through the relations among the Three. It is in that likeness that your own "person" is modeled: you are a person only in your relationships. You will always be your mother's child and your father's offspring, always your siblings' brother or sis-ter. Moreover, it is in and through those relationships and others--teachers, neighbors, friends, even ene-mies- that you have become the person you are. To tell who Jesus of Nazareth is, Matthew begins with a genealogy. After telling about incarnation and birth, he goes right to Jesus' relationship with John the Baptist. Joseph A. Tedow SJ last wrote for us in September-October 1998. His address is Secretariate for Ignatian Spirituality; C.P. 6139; 00195 Roma Prati; Italy. Review for Religious Here is the second reason, closer to the everyday, for doing this exercise. You are always relating to your family, where per-sonhood (self) takes early shape and within which you continue to develop throughout life. You work with others, creating another set of day-to-day relationships. You may belong to a religious community, requiring you to develop a subtle lifelong set of relationships with persons whom God has chosen for you. You may belong to an apostolic team--parish, school, center, hospital, program--which requires cooper-ation and planning. All of these relation-ships require attention and prayer, since "we are all parts of one another" and together we make up the Body of Christ (Rm 12:5). As a very practical matter, this exercise might be a regular part of the prayer of those who work in apostolic partnerships. These are not simple in the church today, and a lot of "personality conflicts" disguise rather dis-orderly emotions and affects. Moreover, a lot of apostolic planning and community planning gets scuttled because of unre-flected- upon personal relationships. Teams and communities commonly blame "the process" for failed planning, when the actual problem is the relationships among the members. This examen, besides helping you know whom to thank God for, helps reveal and even heal such dysfunctional relationships. There are reasons why everyone would benefit from this special exercise. Every life today is plagued in some measure by individualism and alienation. One consequence affects the examen. Even when examining how you are getting along with others, you tend to focus on your own part in the relationship-- "How am I doing?"mand less on the other or on the relation-ship itself. This exercise challenges that focus on the self. It draws you to appreciate, for the right reasons, the people whom God has put into your life. "Each of us should think of our neighbors and help them to become stronger Christians" (see Rm 15:2). You enact individualism by thinking about yourself in isolation rather than in relationships with others. This examen asks you to look directly at the others in your life and the relationships that hold you together in Christ. Every life today is plagued in some measure by individualism and alienation. 119 March-April 2002 Tetlow * Examen Your relationships are where, and the deepest reason why, you exercise the virtues of prudence, justice, fortitude, and tem-perance and a host of others that are needed in order to love the way Jesus loves. Relationships, especially your family and community relationships but also your apostolic and job rela-tionships, are where you give in to sins of pride, covetousness, lust, envy, anger, gluttony, and sloth. If you find this hard to believe, perhaps you really need to do this exercise for a while. Here is the last and ultimate reason to use an examen specif-ically about your relationships: to make sure you are loving the way Jesus loves. Ignatius's Contemplation on Love--the more descriptive title would be "Contemplation to learn to love the way God loves"--begins with two prenotes. The first is that love "ought to manifest itself in deeds rather than in words," and the second is that love consists in constantly sharing, the lover and the beloved giving and receiving in open generosity (SpEx §231). This is how Jesus loves, always in relationship with the Other and the others. This exercise takes you directly to the issue whether you are loving as Jesus loved or are, in actu-ality, doing something else. Practicing the Exercise What is recommended here can be used as a single exercise, in which case it will require a long period of quiet time. It has been used profitably as the material for an eight-day retreat. Once you have gone through it for a while, however, you will know which parts of it to apply on a given day or occasion. You will know that sometimes you need to run through and examine all of your relationships: family, friends, work, community mem-bers, parish council, and so forth. At other times you will want to examine something that has happened, like a disagreement that left you far more unsettled than the matter deserved, or a deci-sion not to phone someone. This exercise will help you to uncover your true purposes, responses, and responsibilities. You can think about one partner or colleague; you can look at one group or committee or team. And so on. (The exercise as it is given here is divided into five sections, following its Ignatian inspiration.) First, taking time to thank God for those whom the Spirit has put into your life. A good way to do this is by making three columns Review for Religious on a sheet of paper. In the first, write some names (parent, sibling, friend, coworker), choosing those who belong to the period you are covering. If you are moving historically through your life, you would begin with parents or grandparents; if you are covering your life situation today, you would name the people with .whom you relate regularly. In the second column, across from each name, write the relationship you have with this person. You might want to add some details beyond a mere title. For instance, to "childhood friend" you might add "first date"; to parent, "died too young"; to colleague, "real partner." This assigning of titles may not be entirely simple. Choosing the appropriate title for a sibling.who is also a lifelong inti-mate friend and a business partner would take some thought--thought precisely about the relationship that you are given and choosing. Then, in the third column, for which you will need plenty of space, describe the relationship you have with this person. How has this person helped shape your self and your life, in the past or more recently? For instance, "rooted me in Christ" about a deeply religious and well-informed parent who established you in your faith. A trust-worthy friend may have told you the truth about yourself and your opinions and decisions, bringing you to know yourself before God. This step will give you grounds for a good deal of thanksgiving. Someone taught you to read and write. Someone showed you how to play your favorite sport. Someone intro-duced you to the Scripture.s. Someone challenged you to for-giveness because he or she not only hurt your feelings but did you harm. Someone may have betrayed you as Judas betrayed your Master. In this examen you probe how you relate to these people, not only how you feel about them, but especially what you have done and are doing in this relationship. In every instance your Creator and Lord is giving you an array of gen-erous gifts, sometimes surprising ones, freely and constantly, gifts for you to be thankful for. There is no gift as great as the gift of a faithful friend or lover who means only good for you. 12I March-April 2002 Tetlow ¯ Examen People know that there is, no gift as great as the gift of a faithful friend or lover who means only "good for you. So here is occasion to name the influences that such persons have had on your values and choices. You may well have adopted a friend's special perspective on the church or on parenting. You may become a member of a solid program because a friend invited you into it. You may have made a life-shaping choice under his or her influence. This point is well worth dwelling on, because through these relationships God is moment by moment creat-ing us as persons. Whom has God put into your life to give it shape? How have they shaped it? How do you relate to them? Here is the core of this exercise. Thanking God for these friends and relations will be incom-plete- and perhaps impossible--unless we consciously approve of how God is even now creating us and those we relate with. If you have an elderly parent who is still clear and keenly interested in your life, that is a great gift. An equally great gift is an elderly parent who depends entirely on you. If you have colleagues who depend on you, that is a gift. So is it when there are colleagues on whom you can depend. And sons or daughters will be their parents' sons or daughters forever, however they may be doing just now. The members of a religious community--real persons--are the living environment of each religious's living, growing, and dying. This exercise asks that you grow conscious of a reality we take so much for granted that we do not think about it at all. How often do you note that the sun rose this morning? How much do you value the water that comes from your tap? We treat our relationships rather like that. They are just there. They do not take thinking about except in special circumstances like an argument or a celebration. But every day each relation is a gift greater than today's sun, and each person given you to love and to be loved by is as indispensable to your thriving as the pure water that you drink without giving it a thought. Prayer Lord Jesus Christ, when you walked this earth you lived a family life with neighbors and friends. When you began to spread the Good News, You gathered around you seventy-two, and twelve, and three, who were precious to you, each in a special way, because Review for Religious the Spirit of Love gave them to you. Never has there been a companion better than you, a colleague more trusting and compassionate, a partner more giving and generous. Help me to know those many, those most special ones whom the Spirit of Love has given me in my life, and, with you, to thank the Father for the gift of them. Amen. Second, asking for attention, insight, and courage. Call on the Holy Spirit to let you pay attention to the others in your life. Ask to feel real interest in others, to get outside yourself and your interior concerns to see the people around you as they are. Ask to pay this attention in the way that God does, who hates nothing he has created and lets rain fall on just and unjust alike. Ask for insight into each person and into your relationship. Some are growing more important in your life, and perhaps some are growing away from you. Ask to know how. Ask the Spirit to let you see what you are looking at, and also to let you hear what you are listening to--from and about those whom the Spirit has given you. Finally, beg for the courage to see clearly and to affirm your connections to others, to feel how they have grown into your life and yourself. How have you reached out to them and perhaps risked something to know and love them? Ask boldness to assert your attachments to others, or your detachment and distanc-ing. Ask to be able to see how another or others are calling you to grow or, alternatively, how another or others are inviting you to be less authentic. Prayer Spirit of the risen Lord, who moved the Holy One to care for friends with his still-wounded hands and pierced heart, make me attentive to my friends even with my fearing toudh and wearing spirit. Open my eyes to see what gifts they really are; open my ears to hear what good they really mean to say. Brace my spirit to feel what they need me to feel. And, as you steeled the heart of Jesus while he lived misunder-stood and then betrayed, brace me now--while I find how I have fared in risking my self--to remain true to who I am ~and to be open in giving and receiving love. Amen. March-April 2002 Tetlow ¯ Examen Third, examining how relationships are doing. To begin with, stay with relationships that are going well. Simply look down the three columns you have written and note the name, relation-ship, and influence, and let yourself be contented in Christ with this love that falls into his pattern of loving. Using the columns is an effective way of examining relationships, but there are other ways. You could begin with the persons most closely related to you by blood and move out through extended family to friends. Or begin with the people you spend most of your daytime with, colleagues, coworkers, and so on. You could begin with superiors and move to those who answer to you. All of these steps could be limited to a smaller set of people if that would be useful at this time. Then come to those relationship that are not going well. Possible failures are sometimes glaring, like anger or blatantly selfish action, and sometimes quite subtle and complex. For every relationship is triune: one person, the relationship, and another person, and all three matter. Honestly and exactingly lay five templates (to be described below) over each conflicted or faltering relationship. As you con-template your relationship with each person under each tem-plate, demand an account of yourself, for failures in relationships show up in many ways and manifest many personality limitations or flaws, or simple sins. For instance, perhaps you find yourself saying negative things about an old friend's character. What has happened in this r~lationship and what is your responsibility for it? What are you doing or failing to do that damages the rela-tionship, or the mission you share with this person (or persons)? These failures or dysfunctions can be variously accounted for. One way is by looking at them under five categories (which I borrow from Roberta Gilbert's Extraordinary Relationships). The categories will help you look clearly and honestly at any fal-tering relationship. They will demand that you take your respon-sibility for what you have done, what you are doing, what you must do, to make this relationship a strong and holy one. The Templates 1. Conflict. You cannot come to agreement with another in some serious matter. You have never got- Review for Religious ten over a rancorous argument. You answer each other with "yes, but." You are losing respect for the person. You question whether you can ever work together again. Any of these suggests a relationship of conflict, which is often a hot relationship. 2. Distancing. You hold each other at arm's length. You have become very polite to each other and a lit-tle standoffish. You rarely talk about anything serious; instead, you chat. You would deal as openly and warmly with a stranger. You would simply rather not have to pay attention to this person anymore. You are uncomfortable around him or her. This is distancing, and, though it seems to suggest that you have no relationship with this person, you have--a special one. 3. Cutting Off. You stay out of each other's way. You do not communicate even when you have to convey some information. You simply do not like this per-son. Your judgment is that this person is harming the family, community, apostolate. You would like to be rid of this person. This is a cutoff, and it is an intense relationship. 4. Excessive Mutual Dependency. You depend on each other, too much or far too much. One of you makes the decisions. One of you needs the emotional support of the other, and the other needs to give it. Others see you as a pair. You are cutting others out of this relationship, emotionally or practically. This is excessive dependency--in a way, too much of a relationship. 5. Triangling. You have an issue with another and, instead of going to the other, take it to a third person. You find yourself saying things about this person, not to him or h~r, but to others. You gossip about this person. You complain about his or her shortcomings to others, never to the person. Alternatively, you passively allow others to tell you things about this person which they ought to be saying to him or her. 6. Could there be another template? You may find a March-April 2002 Tetlow ¯ Examen better term for a ~elationship in your life that is faltering, a term that clarifies for you what you are doing and might do. The Applications When you are on a team with another, you are not free to remain unrelated. The only issue is how you will choose to relate: whether well or badly, creatively or destructively, and, indeed, holily or unholily--all the more, of course, within your own family or among those who have somehow become your friends. Each of the five templates names a relationship--dysfunc-tional, but a relationship. It is crucial to accept that you are related to a person even when you cut him or her off, or are constantly arguing and debating with him or her, or when you are triangling. Humility demands--since it is truth--that you affirm your own contribution to making a relationship bad, or your cooperation in any dysfunctional relationship. Each of your relationships will have its own intensities, its own occasions, its own mixture of the apostolic, social, intel-lectual, affective, and so on. Each lays on you the light yoke of responsibility to accept the relationship as a gift from God, who is giving you freedom and the chance to love as God loves. When you find that one of the templates describes a current relationship, you will have to look into your heart more deeply to find out what is going on. At the same time, you will have to keep aware that the relationship has its own life and tempo, and that there is always "the other" or "the others." Prayer Jesus of Nazareth, my good brother, you worked with many and loved many. You loved aging laborers and the idle rich. You loved holy sisters and disrep-utable women. You worked with tax collectors and scribes. You chose partners who doubted and one who betrayed. You chose them, accounted for your choices to the Father, and stood by your friends to the end. Let me find my way in sureness and in risk, and give me courage to name those I relate to and clarity to know our shared responsibility. Help me to Review for Religious give my account to the Father and to stand by my friends to the end. Amen. Fourth, asking forgiveness for your sins and healing for those you have wounded and for yourself. "Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us." This is the only condi-tion in the prayer Jesus taught. You cannot overestimate the weight of forgiving others. Yours, after all, is "the ministry of reconciliation," for you are in mission with Jesus Christ. You cannot expect forgiveness and the experience of reconciliation, except to the extent that you have forgiven and become recon-ciled with others. This is no trivial matter, and as good a reason as any to make an examen something like this one. Pray for those whom you have failed, or offended, or hurt. You need to beg the Spirit of Love to make up for your short-comings. Prayer Holy Triune God, in you, giving and taking barely differ since both are done as love. I have taken and not given. I have given what I did not mean to give and not given what I wish I had, so far, so very far, am I from loving as you love. Grant'me to be close to you in this, at least: that I forgive wholeheartedly those who wound me, as Jesus forgave those who wounded him. And then I ask that you forgive me and make up for all that I have left undone. Amen. F~h, choosing to do one thing tomorrow. You are wise to choose a single act to do, a concrete act like making a phone call (some-times the hardest thing you will do that day) or writing a note. Your discernment brings you to see how you can enact your gratitude to God for the people in your life. You take responsi-bility for your part in the relationship, not trying to redeem, but only to help the other and to bring him or her closer to Christ. You may need to focus on one person: to reconcile, to praise or thank, to enjoy being with. You may need to focus on one group of people like your family or community or colleagues. You may need to focus on yourself: to accept that God is making you a unique lover, to accept others' acceptance of you as you are; or, alternatively, y6u may need to address some habit that you see aggravates others or turns them off. Or you may I27 March-~tprll 2002 Tetlow ¯ Examen need to see that you really have entered into in a new relation-ship. Or you may need to get ready for a meeting by spending precious time really preparing for it or praying that you.do well. Finally, you may need to focus on some concrete event that is coming up: an interview, a meeting, a confrontation. Or you may need to focus on some long-term development in a relarionship--unsettling conflict, growing distance, emotional-ities-- so that you can take some concrete action. In all of these focuses, you are trying to keep Jesus' own commandment, "Love one another the way I have loved you." Prayer 0 Lord, reconciler of us to ourselves, the whole world and all rime would barely hold all the acts that love demands of us. I beg you to accept the little act that for this time is what I can and would do to learn to love like you. Amen. Annunciation Holy one, favored one, the Lord is with you. Be it bright angel's word or voices in the dark or cannonball or caress, any manner of invitation is prelude to Yes Holy ones, favored ones, the Lord is with us. Eugene Cartier Review for Religious KAREN KARPER FREDETTE No Rapine in the Holocaust: Eremitical Life Today '~e what you are called to be--a passionate seeker of God through continual prayer that allows 'no rapine in the holocaust,'" declares a woman in her seventies dwelling in a rural hermitage in Massachusetts. She emphasizes the total dedication she deems necessary for her chosen vocation--that of a hermit. This apo-dictic statement is culled from 140 responses to a ques-tionnaire sent to 600 hermits and solitaries. The survey was circulated by an international newsletter for her-mits, "Raven's Bread: Food for Those in Solitude." Replies flowed in from such diverse places as New Zealand, French Canada, the Philippines, Bavaria, Ireland, Mexico, and forty of the fifty United States. This twenty-three percent response rate is con-sidered a phenomenal return on a survey and, of itself, says something significant about eremites. Interviewing a single hermit is a rare event; taking the pulse of large enough numbers to determine trends would be an impossible task if eremites themselves were the aloof, people-hating individuals portrayed in popular literature. This survey reveals, however, that Karen Karper Fredette writes from 18065 Highway 209; Hot Springs, North Carolina 28743. 129 March-April 2002 Fredette * No Rapine in the Holocaust a lifestyle seasoned by hours of solitary prayer produces human beings distinguished by hospitality of spirit and a rare compassion. The essential hiddenness of eremiticat life is achieved by blending into one's surroundings. Recent History of Eremitism Even before Vatican Council II, a movement toward solitude and eremitical living had been noted. An historical but almost forgotten intervention at the council by Bishop Remy de Roo initiated a process that resulted in a new canon (c. 603) being written into the revised'Code of Canon Law that appeared in 1983. Bishop de Roo expressed his con-viction that the renewed vitality of the eremitical calling "indicates a special influence of the Holy Spirit, who inspires initiatives beneficial to the church and the modern world." Additionally, de Roo made the prophetic point that recognition of hermits would correct the impression that the practice of poverty, chastity, and obedience is limited to those living communal religious life. The myriad forms of hermit life reported in the recent survey prove the validity of this forecast. When an ancient vocation is recovered, old modalities often prove inadequate and new styles are fashioned. But can one devise a single expression for a call that transcends definitions of religious groups and flourishes among a devout and' occa-sionally unchurched fringe of society? What demographics, if any, can be assigned to an amorphous and largely hidden sub-culture that owns no common affiliation--nor desires any? In an effort to assess the state of eremitical life in the 21st century, the recent questionnaire invited hermits to draw their own demo-graphics. The results have been illuminating and inspiring. ¯ For some of us, a hermit may be living in the next apartment or down the street. Contrary to the caricature of hermits in their far caves, only three out of 140 reporting solitaries live in the "wilderness." A large number (31 percent) dwell in rural areas, but even more (43 percent) are to be' found in urban or Review for Religious suburban settings. Eight of those responding to the survey have chosen a site in the inner city. The essential hiddenness of eremitical life is achieved by blending into one's surroundings in such a way as,~to pass unnoticed even by one's neighbors. Many hermits abhor being singled out and so avoid any identifying sign of their inner dedication to solitude. Others, however, accepting the value of witnessing to a transcendent Reality in our midst, choose a simple habit and seek a recognized status within the church. Their countercultural stance is not militant, but rather a silent encouragement to others that a dif-ferent life is possible from that preached by an all-pervasive consumer society. When and to Whom Does the Call Come? A woman living in the southeastern United States writes: "I first heard the 'call' when I was four years old. I did not know What it meant--I only knew that it shook me to my founda-tion. I married, bore two children, and became a single mother. In my studies for clinical psychology, I discovered the works of Carl Jung. My inner life began shouting for attention. I listened. I shut down my practice, moved, got the children on their feet, and became a solitary. That was twenty years ago." A woman in the Philippines says, "Friends thought I was a fool to give up a secure full-time teaching position in a univer-sity, which sadly didn't leave me space and energy to pursue contemplative living--the one thing that gave meaning to all the rest." A married hermit living in California says, "I was a Hindu monk for five years, but the community did not support my attraction to hermit life." Ninety-eight women and forty-two men responded to the Raven's Bread survey. One-third of these are in their fifties. One-fourth are in their sixties. Only six persons responding are in their thirties. Further data confirms that most received the eremitic call later in life rather than earlier. Twenty-seven percent of those responding said they entered an eremitic lifestyle in their fifties, and twenty percent in their forties. Only eighteen percent followed the call to solitude while in their twenties or thirties. Maturity and life experience are necessary before a person 131 March-April 2002 Fredette * No Rapine in the Holocaust can launch into the rigors of solitary living, though the desire may have been planted much earlier in life. This fact of mid-life transition is an echo of the ideal life-pattern espoused by many Eastern cultures. A person joins a monastery or becomes a monk, not at the beginning of life (except for a brief training period), but only after one has fulfilled family obligations and achieved a certain financial success that one then freely leaves behind. The initial results from the survey indicate that in the Western world the call to solitude replicates this wise rhythm. Good physical health and fitness are the norm among solitary dwellers. Forty-seven percent describe their health as "good," and thirty-eight percent claim "excellent" health. Mental and emotional stability radiate from the responses to the reflec-tion questions that accompanied the survey. For example, a Catholic priest in his fifties writes from an urban hermitage in California: "The grace and essence of solitary living is the abil-ity to live in and be continually conscious of the Presence of God, to become more aware of who one is, to become enlight-ened to see more and more with the vision of God, to struggle to live the compassion of God, to grow in serenity and peace-- in a word, to live the freedom of the children of God." Religious Affiliation and Status The largest number of respondents (92 of 140) are Roman Catholic, but the Anglican, Episcopal, Lutheran, and Baptist churches are also represented. Among the respondents we also find persons from the Society of Friends and Orthodox churches and from various Eastern mystical traditions as well. Of the Christian denominations, Catholicism has the most hermit-friendly atmosphere, but even here eremites frequently mention lack of support and outright discouragement of their aspirations. Of the ninety-two Catholic respondents, only seventeen had been recognized as hermits under canon 603; an additional six had professed a state of consecrated virginity under canon 604. The obstacle to canonical recognition most frequently cited by respondents was the indifference of bishops. Many local ordi-naries were suspicious and expressed unwillingness to allow per-sons to pursue church-sanctioned hermit life in their dioceses. Review for Religious In the United States, only three dioceses are reported in this sur-vey to have more than one hermit living according to canon 603. A woman living in an inner-city neighborhood in England says: "The one and only meeting I had with my present bishop (a Benedictine monk) lasted only a few minutes. I had pressured him into giving me an appointment and had waited eight months to see him. I asked if he would help me become publicly pro-fessed, and he said no. That was it, a monosyllable, no expla-nation, no hesitation, no interest, no concern. I had been living as a hermit for twelve years at that time." Sheila Richardson, who is working on her master's degree in canon law at the University of St. Paul in Ottawa, inquires pointedly: "Are bishops aware of canon 605? This canon requires diocesan bishops to strive to discern new gifts of consecrated life, assist promoters of such lifestyles, and protect these new forms by appropriate statutes." Eremitical life is flourishing without much active support from the establishment. This may well be a blessing, allowing persons seeking to live as hermits or solitaries freedom to devise the form of life that best expresses their aspirations without concern about standards only a select few can meet. Exploring the various categories of individuals who choose a predominantly solitary life, we find 67 single lay persons, 24 married people, 38 members of religious congregations, and 15 ordained ministers, male and female, from six different denominations. Catholic priests who are living as hermits often exercise a limited ministry among people living nearby. They have the permission of their local ordinaries to live in retirement from most of the demands of pastoral ministry and devote the larger portion of their time to the "works" of eremitical life in solitude. Others have established a rhythm of part-time ministry with a certain number of days each week spent in solitude. Another priest is searching: "I am now at the point of decision. I am looking for a hermit-loving bishop where I might support myself by celebrating weekend Masses and confessions, perhaps in some priestless parish. Beyond that, I would be free to live in my own cabin following my own hermit schedule." Being a member of a religious community, whether active or contemplative, does not guarantee understanding of or support March-April 2002 Fredette * No Rapine in the Holocaust for an eremitic calling--something which, incidentally, may arise after a person has faithfully pursued religious life for many years. Thirty-seven of the hermits responding to the survey are still members of religious congregations. But, of the laypersons now living as hermits, sixty percent were members of a religious con-gregation at an earlier stage in their journey. Half of the former religious women claim they left their community so they could follow their attraction to solitude. Many said they were deeply grieved by this "necessity" of departure. Only two of the male religious say that their reason for severing connections with their religious order was in order to pursue solitary life. In other words, twenty-five percent of the men who left religious life did so because they were unable to live solitary life within their com-munities; fifty percent of the women left for the same reason. The most surprising category to surface from an analysis of survey responses is that of married hermit. Strictly speaking, this is a contradiction in terms and one that is hard to justify. But, for those who so identify themselves, the vocation is real and valid. Of the twenty-three respondents who are married, not all claimed to be hermits, but more than half did so. In an effort to understand this phenomenon, the following question was posed: "If you are married and are attracted to solitude, how do you work this out with your spouse?" In reply a woman in Arizona said: "The working out of mar-riage and solitude contains., every contradiction that one can experience in making oneself vulnerable in love to God and the unfolding of God's call in another. Two people can be authen-tically called to solitude and to solitude with each other, but the expressions of it can be so very different. The sharing of phys'ical space has been of great pragmatic concern for us recently--how to arrange our home so it can facilitate simplic-ity of life, prayer, and solitude." A man in Connecticut said: "I decided to separate my own liturgy commitments from my marriage by rising each morning at three for my prayer schedule. Also, I go to bed a little before my spouse to be alone once more in prayer." A woman married to a permanent deacon said: "He shares my attraction to silence and solitude although his ministry is pastoral and mine is mainly prayer. Our small country parish requires very little contact with the people for me. I work qui- Review for Relig4ous etly and prayerfully in the background while he ministers to the people. Everyone seems to understand and accept this arrangement." A woman frankly confesses: "It [attraction to solitude] cre-ated great problems. The marriage ended because we could not work it out. We remained friends." Daily Lifestyles, Daily Problems One hundred and one of the 140 respondents to the sur-vey describe themselves as living alone with significant periods of solitude and prayer. Forty-four of these have a written sched-ule incorporating prayer, work, reading, and relaxation. Eighty-seven of the 140 respondents live an informal mix of these elements. Some of these noted that they had begun with a written schedule that gradually became a more flexible routine. Seventy-eight of the 140 re-spondents pray with others one or more times a week. The most frequent prayer-form cited was meditation. Almost ninety percent find daily periods of meditative prayer a necessity. Nearly as many include Eucharistic Liturgy as part of their daily or weekly prayer routine. Most respondents find special periods of retreat important. Almost half arrange for an "annual r~treat; some manage monthly or even weekly periods of retreat. Penitential practices preferred are fasting and vigils. Almsgiving is important, with forty-three percent giving either in cash or in kind. Thirty-six eremites have made public profession of the evan-gelical counsels. Thirty-eight have committed themselves pri-vately, their vows or promises witnessed by a church-related person. Almost all respondents (103) value spiritual direction, though many said that finding a spiritual guide has been diffi-cult. Forty-seven hermits function as spiritual guides for others. One hundred and one of the 140 respondents to the survey describe themselves as living alone with significant periods of solitude and prayer. 135 March-April 2002 Fredette ¯ No Rapine in the Holocaust The survey listed six areas that could prove problematic for eremites: housing, income, spiritual guidance, relationships with church representatives, physical health, and personal fears and insecurities. The most frequently cited problem is difficulties with church representatives; the next, finding adequate spiri-tual guidance. The expected difficulties of locating a suitable site and generating enough income had proved less trouble-some. In this third millennium of Christianity, eremitical life is experiencing a fresh flowering, with new blooms appearing on the ancient vine. Butthe essence remains the same: "For me, the grace of solitary living is Emptiness," a married hermit member of an oblate Benedictine community states categorically. "No rapine in the holocaust" continues to be the stark demand of solitary life. Lake's Edge At night I hear the motion of the lake. It sighs to its own heart. Foam frosts the weight of wetness flung toward the house where my light burns. I am waiting for the wind to bring the message that I long for, the meaning of breath and motion, and who it is that sends waves pulsing toward this empty shore. Kate Martin OSC Review for Religious JAMES J. MAGEE Metaphysical Self in Other Mystical Traditions Ion an article in this journal (1994), I examined the devel-pment of metaphysical self in the writings of eight Christian mystics, concluding with Thomas Merton's definition (1966, p. 180) referring to "the depths of people's hearts where neither sin nor desire nor self-knowledge can reach, the core of their reality, the person that each one is in God's eyes." In short, metaphysical self is the term for one's self residing in God and God residing in it. Respondents to the article took the occa- ¯ sion to point out that metaphysical se/fappears also in the writ-ings of mystics from other religious traditions and recommended that I enlarge the presentation by incorporating some of them. Since these correspondents were women religious more famil-iar than I with these various mystical traditions, I asked them to participate in a monthly online chat room to examine meta-physical self as it appears in Buddhist, Christian, Hindu, Jewish, and Muslim (Sufi) mysticism. Our group of nine has met for the past five years, and this article presents some of the riches these mystical traditions brought to our understanding of meta-physical self. Each month we decided upon two primary sources we would examine in common, one Christian and one from another James J. Magee has written nine articles for our journal, the last in 1994. He is professor of counseling and gerontology at College of New Rochelle; New Rochelle, New York 10805. March-April 2002 tradition. In addition, each of us read the historical and con-textuai introductions preceding the texts or a monograph explaining their specific themes and imagery. At the conclusion of this article is a bibliography of the sources that we found particularly fruitful. Each tradition has its own style, some directly didactic and others more metaphorical. Each elabo-rates upon metaphysical self with novel, arresting paradoxes and engaging imagery that invigorated our familiarity with our own Christian mystics. Each, too, emphasizes the following components of metfiphysical self: the relational, nondualistic rootedness of self in God; transcendent individuality; engaged detachment as an expression of metaphysical self. Throughout this endeavor we dealt with paradoxes and found the most exhil-arating paradox in the power of other traditions to confirm our Christocentric perspective. Residing in God's Unconditional Acceptance This brief sampling of Christian mystics illustrates the con-tinuing emphasis they placed on the-self-residing-in-God: From Meister Eckhart: The soul is so completely one with God that the one cannot be understood without the other. One can think heat easily enough without fire and the shining with-out the sun, but God cannot be understood without the soul nor the soul without God, so utterly are they one. (p. 309) It is God's pleasure and rapture to discover iden-tity, because he can always put his whole nature into it--for he is this identity itself. (p. 167) From Julian of Norwich: Our soul sits in God in true rest, and our soul stands in God in sure strength, and our soul is naturally rooted in God in endless love. (p. 188) Between God and our soul there is neither wrath nor forgiveness. For our soul is so wholly united to God that nothing can interpose . Though we find in ourselves anger, contention, and strife, still we are all mercifully enclosed in God's mildness and meekness. (p. 189) Review for Religious From Catherine of Genoa: My being is God;. my me is God. (W'ilber, p. 72) From Thomas Merton: We know God insofar as we become aware of ourselves as known through and through by him. We "possess" him in proportion as we realize ourselves to be pos-sessed by him in the utmost depths of our being . Our knowledge of God is paradoxically a knowledge not of him as the object of our scrutiny, but of our-selves as utterly dependent on his saving and merciful knowledge of us. (1969, pp. 103-104) Note how this same emphasis appears in the following excerpts from Jewish and Muslim mystics: From the Maggid of Mezhirech: Man's essence is only the soul that is within him, which is a portion of God above. Thus, there is nothing in the entire world except the Holy One. (Uffenheimer) From the Kabbalah: There is nothing that is not pervaded by the power of divinity. God is everything that exists, though every-thing that exists is not God .Nothing is devoid of its divinity. (Matt, 1995) From Rumi: Remember God so much that you are forg9tten, until you are lost in the Call, without distinction of caller and called. (Breton and Largent, p. 23). You are my face. No wonder I can't see you. (Breton and Largent, p. 168) From 'Abd Allah Ansari (Kwaja 'Abdullah Ansari): One went to the door of the Beloved and knocked. A voice asked, "Who is there?" He answered, "It is I." The voice said, "There is no room for Me and Thee." The door was shut. Mter a year of sOlitude and depri-vation, he returned and knocked. A voice from within asked, "Who is there?" The man said, "It is Thee." The door was opened for him. (p. 94) O God, I possess that mirror in which you are reflected. Rather, I am that mirror. You are not sepa-rate from me. (p. 196) From Fakhruddin 'Iraqi: 139 MarchoApril 2002 The EternalOcean spews forth new waves. "Waves" we call them, but there is only. the Sea. (p. 77) From Ibn Al'Arabi: As in the case of a mirror and the beholder, he sees the form in it, but does not see the mirror itself. In your seeing your true self, He is your mirror and you are His mirror in which He sees nothing other than Himself. (p. 65) Through the intimate imagery and ecstatic directness that pervade these writings, the mystics of three monotheistic traditions seem to strain the point that, while human beings par-ticipate in the divine nature, they never become the essence of God. Their mystical reach, on the other hand, does touch upon that mystery which "no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love Him" (1 Co 2:9). The mystics intuit that persons are not dualistically separated from God, but "closely united with God in a love that is always moving toward oneness" (Johnston, p. 124). Transcending Individuality The Christian Scriptures address a second characteristic, the quality of relationships that proceed from metaphysical self. This characteristic also reappears in the mystical literature of other traditions, and our group members were able to find these paraphrases about metaphysical self-transcending indi-viduality: "Love is not self-seeking; it is not prone to anger; neither does it brood over injuries" (1 Co 13:5) becomes, in Rumi, the Sufi mystic, "Love has no calculating in itT' (Breton and Largent, p. 9) "Thanks be to God, who unfailingly leads us on in Christ's triumphal train, and employs us to diffuse the fragrance of his knowledge everywhere" (2 Co 2:14) occurs in Rtimi as "Vv~hether they know You or not, all creatures bend but toward You. M1 love for some-one else is but a whiff of Your perfume." (Breton and Largent, p. 141) "For I was hungry and you gave me food; I was thirsty and you gave me drink" (Mt 25, 35) appears; Review for Religious in the Bhagavad Gita, as "Any offering--a leaf, a flower, or a fruit, a cup of water--I will accept it if given with a loving heart." (Mitchell, 2000, p. 118) "Let us profess the truth in love" (Eph 4:15) is, in the Bhagavad Gita, "Speak the truth with kindness, honesty that causes no pain." (Mitchell, 2000, p. 178) These mystical sources echo the scriptural message that in human beings metaphysical self is inherently relational. Each of us is a seat of consciousness and an experiencing agent with-out being independent of others. Aitken and Steindl-Rast go so far as to say: "Underlying 'Love thy neighbor as thyself' has to be the experience that the other is no other than myself" (p. 113). Engaged Detachment During our years of meetings, members recognized a third characteristic, engaged detachment, as the way metaphysical self conducts itself in the world. This oxymoron refers to the readiness to invest ourselves in causes, tasks, and relationships while remaining ready to foi'go achieving our goals. It focuses upon process, both the deservingness of the activity at hand and the affirmation that we shall die unfinished, our potential only partly realized, and that completion is ultimately God's work and not our own. The different traditions of mystical writings repeatedly express this theme: From Julian of Norwich: God does not want his servants to despair because they fall often and grievously; for our falling does not hin-der him in loving us. (p. 188) From Paul Tillich: You are accepted, accepted by that which is greater than you . Do not seek for anything; do not intend anything. (Church, p. 180) From Anthony de Mello: There is no clinging to a classical symphony and no hastening it. One does not wait till the end to enjoy . it, but takes in every note, every chord as it comes and lets it go to welcome the next uninterrupted flow. Any attempt to stop the performance, any "attachment" to 14! March-April 2002 Nlagee ¯ Metaphysical Self a single note, will ruin the symphony. (p. 164) From the Tao Te Ching: A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent upon arriving. (Mitchell, 1988, p. 27) The Tao gives birth to all beings, creating without possessing, acting without expecting, guiding without interfering. (Welch, p. 41) From the Bhagavad Gita: With no desire for success, no anxiety about failure, indifferent to results, surrendering all thoughts of out-come, unperturbed, he does nothing at all, even when fully engaged in actions. There is nothing that he expects. (Mitchell, 2000, p. 75) From Fakhruddin 'Iraqi: Give up desire. Think that whatever you get is what you want, and in this acceptance find ease and joy. Renounce desire a hundred times. (p. 114) Engaged detachment, like the other characteristics of meta-physical self, is paradoxical. It invites a response of passive atten-tiveness wisely expressed in this admonition from the poet Rainer Maria Rilke: Be patient toward all that is unresolved in your heart. . Try to love the contradictions themselves. Do not now seek resolutions, which cannot be given because you would not be able to live them, and the point is to live everything. Live the contradictions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the resolutions. (p. 97) Imagery, Paradox, Complementarity, Love The imagery, metaphors, and paradoxes which other mys-tical traditions use to illuminate the nature of mystical se/famplify and complement the attention Christian mystics center upon on this theme. The artfulness of these other sources can help sustain us both in the apophatic ~loud through which Christian mystics typically view mystical self and in the relaxed tena-ciousness of our commitment to love others as ourselves. Review for Religious References 'Abd Allah Ansari, 1978. Intimate conversations. New York: Paulist Press. Aitken, R., and D. Steindl-Rast. 1996. The ground we share. Boston: Shambala. Breton, D., and C. Largent. 1998. Love, soul, and freedom: Dancing with Rumi on the mystical path. Center City, Minn.: Hazelden. Church, E 1987. The essential Tillich. New York: Macmillan. de Mello, A. 1992. One minute nonsense. Chicago: Loyola University Press. Fakhruddin 'Iraqi. 1982. Divine flashes. New York: Paulist Press. Ibn Al'Arabi. 1980. The bezels of wisdom. New York: Paulist Press. Johnston, W. 2000. "Arise, my love . . .": Mysticism for a new era. Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books. Julian of Norwich. 1978. Showings. New York: Paulist Press. Magee, J. 1994. "Shame, mystical writers, and a spirituality of self." Review for Religious 53, no. 5 (September-October): 746-752. Matt, D. 1995. The essential Kabbalah. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, p. 25. Meister Eckhart. 1986. Meister Eckhart: Teacher and preacher, ed. B. McGinn. New York: Paulist Press. Merton, T. 1966. Conjectures of a guilty bystander. New York: Doubleday. Merton, T. 1969. Contemplative prayer. New York: Herder and Herder. Mitchell, S. 1988. Tao te ching. New York: Harper and Row. Mitchell, S. 2000. Bhagavadgita. New York: Harmony Books. Rilke, R. 1978. When silence reigns: Selected prose. New York: New Directions. Uffenheimer, R. 1993. Hasidism as mysticism. Princeton: Princeton University Press, p. 74. Welch, H. 1966. Taoism: The parting of the way. Boston: Beacon. Wilber, K. 1983. Up from Eden. Boulder, Colo.: Shambala. Bibliography of Easily Accessible Sources Sources in Christian mysticism appear in the series Classics of Western Spirituality (Paulist Press). Sources for Buddhist and Taoist mysticism Da Liu. 1986. Tai chi ch'uan and meditation. New York: Schocken Books. Deng Ming-Dao. 1990. Scholar warrior: An introduction to the tao in everyday life. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco. 143 March-April 2002 Magee ¯ Metaphysical Self Kohn, L. 1993. The taoist experience: An anthology. Albany: State University of New York Press. Merton, T. 1968. Zen and the birds of appetite. New York: New Directions. Mitchell, S. 1988. Tao te ching. New York: Harper and Row. Reps, P. 1957. Zen flesh, Zen bones: A collection of Zen and pre-Zen writ-ings. Rutland, Vermont: C.E. Turtle. Thich Nhat Hanh. 1987. The miracle of mindfulness: A manual on med-itation. Boston: Beacon. Watson, B. 1968. The complete works of Chuang Tzu. New York: Columbia University Press. Wei, H. 1987. The authentic I Ching. North Hollywood, Calif.: Newcastle. Sources for Hindu mysticism Dehejia, V. 1994. The legend of Rama: Artistic visions. Bombay: Marg Publications. Heehs, P. 1998. The essential writings of Sri Aurobindo. New York: Oxford University Press. Jack, H. 1989. The Gandhi Reader. New York: Grove Press. Krishnamurti, J. 1994. On conflict. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco. Mitchell, S. 2000. Bhagavadgita. New York. Harmony Books. Ramakrishna Vedanta Centre. 1972. Women saints of East and West. London: Ramakrishna Vedanta Centre. Shukla, S. 1999. The Upanishads. Fremont, Calif.: Asian Humanities Press. Sivaraman, K. 1989. Hindu spirituality. New York: Crossroad. Vetter, H. 1997. The heart of God: Prayers of Rabindranath Tagore. Boston: C.E. Tuttle. Sources for Islamic mysticism 'Abd Allah Ansari. 1978. Intimate conversations. New York: Paulist Press. Breton, D., and C. Largent, C. 1998. Love, soul, and freedom: Dancing with Rumi on the mystic path. Center City, Minn.: Hazelden. Chittick, W.C. 1983. The Sufi path of love: The spiritual teachings of Rumi. Albany: State University of New York Press. Ernst, C. 1984. Words of ecstasy in Sufism. Albany: State University of New York Press. Fakhruddin 'Iraqi. 1982. Divine flashes. New York: Paulist Press. Ibn Al'Arabi. 1980. The bezels of wisdom. New York: Paulist Press. Review for Religious Ibn A1-Sabbagh. 1996. Mystical teachings of Al-Shadhili. Chicago: Kazi Publications. Ibn 'Ata' Illah. 1978, The book of wisdom. New York: Paulist Press. Massignon, L. 1982. The passion of A1-Hallaj, mystic and martyr of Islam. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Schimmel, A. 1987. As through a veik Mystical poetry in Islam. New York: Columbia University Press. Sharafuddin Maneni. 1980. The hundred letters. New York: Paulist Press. Sources for Jewish mysticism Ben Joseph, A. 1987. Book of formation (Sepheryetzirah). San Francisco: Holmes. Ben Zion, R. 1984. Anthology of Jewish mysticism. Brooklyn, N.Y.: Judaica Press. Cohn-Sherbok, D. 1995. Jewish mysticism: An anthology. Rockport, Mass.: Oneworld. Jacobs, L. 1997. Schocken book of Jewish mystical testimonies. New York: Schocken Books. Kamenetz, R. 1998. Stalking Elijah: Adventures with today's Jewish mys-tical masters. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco. Kook, A. 1978. The lights of penitence, New York: Paulist Press. Matt, D. 1983. Zohar: The book of enlightenment. New York: Paulist Press. Matt, D. 1995. The essential Kabbalah: The heart of Jewish mysticism. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco. Nahman of Bratslav. 1980. The tales. New York: Paulist Press. Scholem, G. 1995. Major trends in Jewish mysticism. New York: Schocken Books. NEW ON OUR WEBSITE Searchable indexes of Review for Religious articles from January 1970 to the current issue Abstracts of the lead articles of the January 1997 isshe to the current issue and summaries of the others Complete text of A Spirituality for Contemporary Life: The Jesuit Heritage Today edited by David Fleming SJ and containing articles by J.J. Mueller SJ, Walter Burghardt SJ, David Fleming SJ, Monika K. Hellwig, Jon Sobrino SJ, Elizabeth Johnson csJ, and John W. Padberg SJ www.reviewforreligious.org -4 45 larch-, Jpril 2002 GERALDINE M. WODARCZYK Aging: Spiritually Present to the Burning Bush growing older For months now I have written multiple reflections on aging. They are connected with a book by Jane Marie Thibault2 She says that in later life people are invited to contemplation and that there should be contem-plative communities for the elderly. My congregation is 127 year old, and I have lived among aging and prayerful sisters for decades. I sought to formulate a theology of aging based on the spirituality of our foundress, Frances Siedliska. But, in spite of a wealth of material, no formulation presented itself. And so, with encouragement from Sister Judith Nero OSB, my local mentor for the gerontological program, I decided on a different focus, simply writing about my ministry experiences at Holy Family Manor. What are those experiences, and what are they calling me to in my own life? Perhaps, like Moses, I have discovered a "burning bush" and here, on holy ground, I learn of God. Geraldine M, Wodarczyk CSFN wrote this paper originally in a gerontological pastoral care program at Luther Seminary in St. Paul, Minnesota. Her address is Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth; 285 Bellevue Road; Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15229. Review for Religious Years ago Sister Mary Paul Krasowski gave me a copy of a poem by an unknown author: The Moses in my heart trembles not quite willing to accept the prophet hidden in my being wondering how much it will cost to allow the prophet to emerge. O child of unnecessary shoes cast them off and stand in readiness on this awfully holy ground! For the Egypt in people's hearts demands that you see the burning bushes all around you aflame and burning wildly calling you forth away from the comfort of well-protected feet. The ground you stand on is holy! Take off your shoes believe in your Moses and go. Sister Mary Paul gave.me a copy a second time, when I was the superior at the Manor, my "holy ground" for the past six years. I realized that during this time I had been called to accept the prophet in me, and in others, as we search for God in our every-day realities. I have seen the Egypt in the hearts of sisters and heard their cry for freedom sung in many ways. Within the evening solitude that these days provided me, I discovered the Egypt within my own heart and heard a call to let go of false securities of my own and to find new freedoms within me. I have been present to "burning bushes" of experience with seasoned older sisters. In ways I never expected, God touched my life and called me from the comfort zone where I was six years before. 147 March-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Aging With Fear and Trepidation In 1990, when first asked to consider being superior of the Manor, I flatly refused. I was already superior of a small convent of four sisters. I was engaged in full-time ministry as the province councilor for formation, and together with my brother, who was just beginning a family in Wisconsin, I was sharing long-distance care of our widowed father in Erie, Pennsylvania, who was steadily moving to a new stage of frailty in his life. These were the reasons I gave my provincial, but another rea-son was that I had never been present at anyone's death. Terrified, I could not imagine living where I would need to be present to sisters as they died. Time passed. In 1993 our father's condition became worse. When notified, I knew the seriousness of Dad's condition, but did not realize that, with the physician, my brother and I would be making decisions that Dad was not able to make about his failing life. As Divine Providence would have it, I was in Erie when decisions about the breathing and cardiac machines needed to be made, and I was present during Dad's last hours and death. I learned that a broken heart is a real experience. I was changed, and so in 1994, when a new provincial asked me about being superior of Holy Family Manor, I said I would be willing. The provincial was taking seriously the choice of the superior. First, after asking the sisters living in the Manor for suggestions and reviewing the list, she and her council had three sisters come to a mandatory day of reflection in a small cottage on our motherhouse grounds. Our retirement home had sixty-nine beds and sixty-six sisters at various stages of aging. The retreat director, Sister Ann Winschel CDP, invited us to consider our gifts and what might be our stumbling blocks in accepting the ministry. I went to my room in the cottage and prayed with open hands, letting God put there what I needed and giving God the freedom to take away any drawbacks to my willingness to accept this ministry. For most people, praying with open hands is a simple gesture, but for me--with hands affected by rheumatoid arthritis--the gesture spoke of my own human brokenness. Could God really want me, already a broken vessel, to shep-herd these senior religious in their last days? At the end of the retreat, after sharing our personal reflec- tions, we were asked to express our final decision in a letter to the provincial. I wrote of openness to the ministry, my aware-ness of my gifts in working with the elderly, and my recognition that I could use them only in the context of my own brokenness. I qualified my openness by saying that, if I had an incapacitating flare-up of the arthritis, I would take it as an indication that this service was not appropriate for me. Three months later my provincial telephoned me, saying that the council had unani-mously chosen me the next Manor superior. She wanted me to take some preparation time with the current superior, attend the upcoming American Society of Aging conference, and offi-cially begin on the first of May. On Sunday, 30 April 1995, in the early afternoon, I arrived at the Manor. I was scheduled to be in the chapel for a wel-coming prayer and commitment service at four o'clock. The previous superior had already left. Three sisters were waiting for me at the door, welcoming me with one breath and asking with another, "You will take us to the festival at Mr.Assisi, won't you?" Barely gathering my belongings from the auto-mobile and putting them in my room, I welcomed the excur-sion (a five-minute trip) to the Franciscan sisters' festival. Though a busy place, it was a respite where I could amble with-out any focus on the fears and anticipation that were part of me at this transition moment. We returned home and soon four o'clock came. In the presence of the retired sisters, the provincial asked me several questions: Will you accept this responsibility [to be local leader] which the sisters have confided in you? Do you promise to serve the sisters in kindness, compassion, and charity, in the spirit of our blessed foundress, Frances Siedliska? Will you strive to be faithful to the Covenant of Love [our constitutions] and the directives of your general and provincial superiors? Responding affirmatively, I was given a bouquet of roses by the provincial and was told: "Your ministry as servant leader will be a mixed blessing. Both joy and sorrow, possibility and I could not imagine living where I would need to be present to sisters as they died. !49 ~¥larch-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Aging impossibility, success and failure will accompany you. These roses, themselves offering both beauty and pain, are given to you with our gratitude for accepting this mission." After the sisters voiced their support, I recited the following: As I approach this ministry of servant leadership, I pray: Hollow out in me, O God, a space in which I will find myself, find peace and a whole heart, a for-giving spirit and holiness, springs of laughter, and the will to reach boldly for abundant life for myself, this local community, and the whole human family. Grant me your peace, instill in me such awe of you as will make me wise, and such quiet courage as will enable me to make hope visible, forgiving delight-ful, loving contagious, faith liberating, and peace-mak-ing joyful. Shape my weakness into compassion and help me to make myself open and present to my sisters, to oth-ers, and to your kingdom. Amen.2 And so I began my sojourn as the convent superior of our retire-ment community. Except for my Franciscan festival invitation, my first encounter with one of the sisters came that evening, when Sister Maura3 told me, "On behalf of the entire community here at Holy Family Manor, .I want to tell you it is too cold in this build-ing." "Temperatures!" I thought; "after that profoundly religious service, I am supposed to adjust thermostats!" And so it was-- God was inviting me to listen to the concerns of everyday life, the little things that are so important in these sisters' lives. The Power of the Word The next morning I had an announcement to make in the first-floor dining room, where forty sisters sat. Besides some trembling, my voice did not carry well, especially for the good number with impaired hearing. Finally I got the message across. Shortly thereafter, a sister from the second-floor dining area came complaining that I did not give the sisters there any message. What was I to do? The next day I typed out some items of common interest and posted them in the elevator, Review for Religious thereby causing traffic jams. Sisters would ride up and down until they finished reading the note. I realized that we needed copies of the newsletter posted in various places, including the elevator. This simple arrangement, providing this large num-ber of sisters direction for the coming day, also informed them about what was happening in our home. Was this communication episode a "burning bush" in which I found God? At least I learned how impoytant the communi-cated word is to people, and that it could promote love and caring in this household. It calmed the fears of the sisters who wondered about who was in the house: other sisters, guests, contractors, maintenance work-ers. The daily newsletter included a prayer request list and kept the sisters informed about the health progress of the sisters in the hos-pital. The newsletter invited the sisters to share a joke as well as to request prayer for themselves I learned how important the communicated word is to people, and that it could promote love and caring. or others. It became their newsletter. It provided a source of unity and dismantled some rumors that institutions readily give rise to. It hung for twenty-four hours at eight places in the building. Each of us had plenty of time to return to it to get the news of the day. There is a power in the written word. It is a way love can be communicated. Isn't the Word the way God communicates the greatness of Divine Love? And did the Word not become incarnate in the most simple and humble way? Perhaps in some small way the newsletter really was a "burning bush." The Joy of the Resurrection After living a short while in the Manor, I noticed a heavi-ness- sadness in the sisters' demeanor, depressive postures; even the daily Masses were in remembrance of the deceased. Although all the bedrooms are quite alike, some were considered "dying rooms," and sisters shuddered at the thought of being placed there. March-April 2002 V~odarczyk * Aging When I arrived at the Manor in the midst of spring, I was still flesh with the message of the Easter season's life-giving liturgical readings. One reading kept coming back to me, the one about the women returning to the tomb who were asked, "Why do 3iou search for the Living One among the dead?" (Lk 24:5). One day these words, stirring in my h.eart, became reversed. I heard, "Why do you search for the dead among the living?" Something changed within me, and I realized how alive, even with some physical limitations, these sisters were. I knew that I needed to foster that life of theirs. I knew that I should help them help each other to build a happy life within this retirement community. By Pentecost I looked for the evi-dence of the Spirit as we tried new things and reviewed old practices. What brought the gifts of "love, joy, peace, patient endurance, kindness, generosity, faith, mildness" (Ga 5:22-23) that Paul spoke about? The things that brought such results to the majority of the community would be fostering and increas-ing in the sisters the new life of Easter. How else does God speak to us and affirm our actions except by the gifts of the Holy Spirit? In late May 91-year-old Sister Ellen was rushed to the hos-. pital in excruciating abdominal pain. "A perforated bowel," the doctor told me and asked, "What do you want me to do? I don't think that Sister could survive the surgery." Asking Sister, who was fully conscious, was to me the obvious thing to do. The doctor explained the options: surgery or palliative care. Sister Ellen looked at me with the most trusting eyes. "You are my superior," she said. "Whatever you decide will be God's will for me." I could not believe my ears, nor was I prepared for this responsibility she placed on me. She remained adamant. "I trust that your decision is God's will for me." I had not been reared in religious life with that degree of surrender put into a supe-rior's hands. Mine was a formation toward dialogue, toward coming to a mutual decision. She, however, simply continued to insist. From her primary-care physician, I learned that Sister Ellen had specifically said a few weeks earlier that she never wanted another surgery. When I managed to contact our provin-cial superior, who was traveling in Europe, she concurred with the decision for palliative care. Review for Religious I remain humbled by the trust Sister Ellen placed in me. I learned that being an instrument of God in these sisters' lives is something very serious indeed. I learned of my own need for prayer and intimacy with a God who, though transcendent, is immanently present to us and our decisions. Second Floor: 0 God, Are You There? A visitor to our Manor told me happily that her little boy would be three years old in a couple of weeks. On hearing that, he began to cry, "I don't want to be three, Mommy." Holding her tearful child, she said to me: "When he turns three he has to go to the next room in the day care. He doesn't want to take that step." It can be like that with the elderly, too. In conversations with oth-ers who deal with the elderly, I have found that there is always some place where res-idents do not want to go. It may be called the A wing or Mary's Corridor or something sim-ilar. In our convent it is simply called "the second floor." It is where those needing the most care live. Agreeing to live on the second floor is, for some of us, accepting death--even though, in reality, it may be years away. When I came to the Manor, the frailest sisters on the sec-ond floor would sit or recline in geri-chairs in a semicircle in what was called the solarium. These sisters were clean and well kept, but some would randomly yell out a prayer, a request, a humorous remark, or something incoherent. When people passed by Sister Lynnette--her parochial school teaching over and end-stage Alzheimer's drawing near--she would insist, "Line up for the fire drill, without talking!" If you did not do so, your misbehavior called for discipline. Although humorous, these moments were also sad, for Sister Lynnette had been such an excellent teacher. Many sisters shied away from the second floor, and espe-cially the solarium, where these frail sisters spent long days, I have found that there is always some place where residents do not want to go. March-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Agigg still as icons. This comparison struck me as I read some words of Henri Nouwen: Icons are not easy to "see." They do not immediately speak [appeal] to our senses . They do not reveal themselves to us at first sight. It is only gradually, after a patient, prayerful presence, that they start speaking to us. And, as they speak, they speak more to our inner than to our outer sense. They speak to the heart that searches for God.4 The frailest sisters on the second floor "do not reveal them-selves," or the Holy, immediately. It is only after I become prayerfully present to them that their presence, in their dimin-ished physical or mental condition, speaks to my heart. They tell me about life's brevity, about our dependence on God, and show that we are only pilgrims here. One day I took a visiting priest acquaintance to see our treasured sisters on the second floor. He began preaching to them about their duty to contemplate. With blank faces they just looked at him. A confused embarrassment seized him, and he became speechless. There was nothing more to say. Later I wondered if these sisters are in the contemplative state of being in God's wordless embrace. One cannot know such secrets. These sisters, and we ourselves, spend lives desiring such close-ness. But, because they and we have also spent years seeking responsible and prudent control of our lives, such vulnerability, such complete dependence on God and on others, is likely to be fraught with fear as well. On a recent visit to Pittsburgh, Trappist monk Thomas Keating, founder of Contemplative Outreach, spoke to an ecu-menical group gathered at another Franciscan motherhouse. He spoke of the prayerful consent that is part of Centering Prayer, for fostering contemplative experience. He spoke of the call to follow Christ and to let go of possessions--not external possessions so much as interior ones, the baggage of attitudes that we carry with us (in his phrase, the false self). At one point he looked up at the' choir loft, where the frailest of the com-munity's sisters were. He spoke directly to them, taking note of their willing acceptance of their present frailty, their loss of health, their losses of young self-reliance and of status in the community. He saw their disabilities as precious gifts from God, Review for Religious things to be grateful for. His words reminded me of my own sisters on the second floor. But to accept diminishment with gratitude is not easy. Solidarity with Suffering A few footsteps away from my office, my belief in the cru-cified and resurrected Christ was tested. Suffering is a mystery. We do not want to see others suffer, nor do we want suffering in our own lives. When faced with the suffering of people we love, what is our response? Henri Nouwen says: A friend who was very ill had a great devotion to Mary, the mother of Jesus, and derided to make a pilgrimage to Lourdes to ask for healing. When she left, I was afraid that she would be disillusioned if no miracle happened. But on her return she said, "Never did I see so many sick people. When I came face-to-face with that human suffering, I no longer wanted a miracle. I no longer wanted to be the exception. I experienced a deep desire to be one of them, to belong to these wounded people. Instead of praying for a cure, I prayed that I would have the grace to bear my illness in solidarity with them. And I trust that the mother of Jesus will bring my prayer to her Son."s As for myself, I have never come to the point of wanting "to be one of them." I desire to be well. But so did this dear woman on her way to Lourdes for healing. Is true healing the ability to love so deeply that we long to share others' intense pain and sorrow? That is what Jesus did. When we are young, we find many ways to escape that question and that reality. As we age and see diminishment in ourselves, our families, and our friends, the question returns. That call to solidarity in suffering is a difficult call to hear, especially when the time actually comes for us to visit--or move to--the "second floor." Sacrament of the Present Moment - Even in Dementia "Where am I going?" she asks, her body slumped. The eyes, once sparkling with joie de vivre, now are dim, like smoldering wicks. "I can understand," she says, "why, without faith, one155 March-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Aging could commit suicide. Not that I want to," she says, "but I understand. I know why others would do this." Coming out of my own uncomfortable search for something to say, I ask, "Do you have faith? . Why, yes, I do." But soon she is asking, "What should I do? What is happening to me?" These words rose in her during the initial stages of Alzheimer's. It is easy to agree with the maxim that "a mind is a terrible thing to waste." In a group where many have been educators, the relentless decline of mental acumen is truly frightening. In this place, you can imagine the ardor one brings to reading the "Nuns' Study" !6 In the light (or darkness) of this feared disease, a faith per-spective does not come easy, even in a congregation whose motto is "Thy will be done." I needed to be reverently present to any-one who was concerned about Alzheimer's, just as I did to those showing symptoms of it. I needed to be cautious about explain-ing away dementia-with pious sayings or even a quick quota-tion from Scripture. For many months Sister Mary would stalk me, particularly at sundown. Even when I did not initially see her, I could sense her presence and her foreboding look. I had learned earlier that I should keep touch with my own inner experience when relat-ing to others. With Mary, the more I avoided her physically and psychologically, the more she pursued and pressured me. Her cognitive impairment was becoming worse. I would think, "Oh, here she is, pestering me again!" or "She's got dementia. She doesn't know what she's talking about." One time she was particularly adamant: "How awful to be on the second floo!! How cruel you were to put me there!" And on and on, in a sort of frenzy. I wondered, "What ever happened to that loving and supportive friend I had for so many years?" I thought of relat-ing to her as a simple matter of"how to handle a difficult situ-ation." I thought of Christ being in her, but was far from experiencing it. Worn down by her raving, I was wondering if she had received her medication. I called the nurse to ask. Sister Mary heard me and said, "You think medication is going to take care of this? You are not around and you think medicine is going to cure this? That's not the way! That's not the way!" My "quick and appropriate solution"--so that I could be about more Review for Religious "important" things--stirred up more mistrust in Sister and greater frustration in me. Then my faith invited me to adopt a new perspective. I paused, put aside other matters, sat face-to-face with her, and listened. Soon both of us were at peace. After a while she returned to her room for the evening. This scenario occurred more than once. Afterwards, pondering the healing that took place when I was more present to her, I realized that there is a sacramentality in such moments. Jean-Pierre de Caussade says: There is never a moment when God does not come forward in the guise of some suffering or some duty, and all that takes place within us, around us, and through us both includes and hides his activity. Yet, because it is invisible, we are taken by surprise and do not recognize his operation until it has passed by us. If we could lift the veil and if we watched with vigilant attention, God would endlessly reveal himself to us, and we should see and rejoice in his active presence in all that befalls us. At every event we should exclaim: "It is the Lord!''7 Can I be alert to this potential revelation of God the next time I am stalked by one of my own sisters? When people complain to me about the odd behavior or mental confusion of a dear friend of theirs, can I help them see Christ's presence in the situation? How do I do that? Caussade reminds us of the power of faith: It is faith which interprets God for us. Without its light we should not even know that God is speaking, but would hear only the confused, meaningless bab-ble of creatures. As Moses saw the flame of fire in the bush and heard the voice of God coming from it, so faith will enable us to understand his hidden signs, so that amidst all the apparent clutter and disorder we shall see all the loveliness and perfection of divine wisdom.8 Seeking Life's Deeper Meaning A few years ago Sister Mary Stella came to my office quite excited about the prospect of winning a car or money for the 157 Vlarch-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Aging community. A piece of mail had informed her that she had been "selected to win." I tried to explain to her about the money-maEing ploy of these contests. She insisted: "Fill it out for me. I can't see!" Hoping that somewhere in this experience there would be a teachable moment, I filled out the form and mailed it. A few weeks later she received a "free" watch. "See," she told me, "I am already winning! I will really help the congre-gation when the check arrives." Not long after the watch came, Sister was billed $75 for a magazine subscription. She called me to her room. Obviously upset, she said she did not have the money for this subscription and believed that, if she canceled it, she would be responsible for the salesperson's losing her job. "I should have listened to you," she lamented. My teachable moment had arrived! Though I was angry about companies that exploit senior citizens, I gently explained to her that this is an advertising gimmick, that all she needed to do was write "cancel" on the bill and mail it back; the matter would be over. She listened. I left the room thinking all was well. But within a few days Sister stopped eating. She did not come to morning Mass. She stayed in her room, depressed and despondent. Noticing this, I spent some extended time with her, but she was silent. She wanted to see a priest. I called the Franciscan priest who often served us, and he paid her a pastoral visit. Her depression lingered. I visited her again. She still lamented, "I can't pay the bill, and the poor man will lose his job." Her suffering was evident. Her sheltered and "precomputer" life did not prepare her to understand today's big-business advertising. So I listened, and then I suggested that we write the man a letter with an apology, explain her cur-rent financial situation, and return the watch. Her eyes lit up at the prospect. Together we composed a letter, which she signed and I mailed. In a few days she was back to normal. A few months later her health declined, simply by reason of her advancing age. When I visited, she looked up at me from her bed and with a most peacef~l look said, "I will never forget your gentleness to me when I thought I would win that money. You were so kind." The entire episode showed us God's grace working in both our lives. I continued to see how greatly these older sisters desire to contribute to the congregation. Review for Religqous Supporting the congregation financially gave meaning to the sisters all their lives, even as they themselves led a frugal existence. They had experienced the Depression firsthand and had stories to tell about begging alongside factories, begging h0use-to-house for summer stipends, or asking for funds by writing letters to family and friends. Today, for some, lotteries and various contests appear to be another source of financial support for the congregation. One sister, clear-minded at ninety-nine, had a lucky streak. Although she lived frugally, I heard rumors of her "having money." Family and friends would buy her lottery tickets and then cash them in for her when she mailed back the winning ticket. Although I was "out of the loop" of direct information about these transactions, I somehow always found out about them. Though some might find gambling question-able in light of the vow of poverty, I waited to see what would happen eventually, since Sister's participation connected her to others and caused no harm. Sometimes months would pass between rumors of her winnings and her eventual cash donation of $200 or $300. The happiness she radiated sent the message that even at ninety-nine she could contribute to the community. She rarely wanted anything for herself. Suspicions about a breach of her vow disappeared. I have often noticed with what pride the sisters contribute their Christmas, birthday, Easter, and anniversary donations to the communal kitty, expecting my gratitude as they do so. I appreciate what they do, but I have encouraged them to find meaning in other parts of their lives too. Their very presence in love, patience, and faith is a meaningful gift to the community, to their families, and to all who witness their kindness. I have invited them to look for ways of spreading the Good News in and beyond the community. I have tried to be attentive to the I have often noticed with what pride the sisters contribute their Christmas, birthday, Easter, and anniversary donations to the communal kitty. March-April 2002 Wodarczyk * Aging ordinary things they accomplish or experience, and I have lis-tened affirmingly as they speak about what they did and are doing with their lives. I have learned, too, about meaning that is not initially obvious. Sister Gina was a "collector." Her room was filled with any-thing and everything. Some might call it clutter. One day she said to me, "You know, when I die, people will complain about all the stuff I left behind. Some have already asked me to clean things up. But I want you to know something. Now that I can go nowhere, I have brought into my room all kinds of things that bring to mind the wonderful friends I have had in my life. These things always make me happy, and I pray for these peo-ple as well." When Sister Gina died, I took care of her things quietly, without others knowing, needing to respect the gen-uineness of her words to me. Most of this "junk" humbly con-veyed love and friendship and gave meaning to Sister Gina's last days. An Incarnational Spirituality When our sisters come to the Manor, transportation diffi-culties and their declining health limit their activity. Two things seem to arise in the absence of formal ministry. There is some-times an unhealthy focus on self and on the "world" of the Manor. Small matters become major concerns. Negativity can result. Teresa of Avila saw such problems in her cloistered monastery.9 There is perhaps no one remedy, but I have seen changes for the better when sisters choose other avenues of ser-vice or ministry or other activities compatible with their new status and their personal limitations. The healthiest and happiest in the Manor were those who were able to rechannel their formation-for-ministry in creative ways. Writing letters to friends, family members, and politi-cians and intercessory prayer for the needs of others are integral to the sisters' lives and are a genuine service they render. Decorating the chapel for feasts, participating as readers or Eucharistic ministers during the litu#gies, companioning another to the physician, sending get-well cards to the hospitalized, and visiting the "second floor" are but a few of the ways the sisters incarnate their love for God in service to their neighbor. Their Review for Religious humble acceptance of their limitations and their patient strug-gles day by day become invaluable tools in building up the body of Christ, as those who are touched by their witness can testi@. For the sisters, their personal sufferings take on deeper mean-ing as they offer them for the intentions of people who have requested their prayer and support. Perhaps some ecumenical healing takes place as well, as staff members of different faiths take care of these sisters, who have lived their lives with hearts so attuned to Roman Catholicism. The sisters remain educators, teaching young care-givers about faith, patience, forgiveness, hope, acceptance and nonacceptance of suffering and dying. The sisters, too, are stretched to go beyond the images of a vowed religious life that is past and gone. After fifty years or more of religious life, that is not a small stretch. Sports on television and radio, and movies, books, excur-sions, concerts, and so forth offer relaxation and outreach--for nothing can "separate us from the love of Christ" (Rm 8:35). Some sisters have become mentors or teachers in various spe-cialties. One Sister translated from Polish to English a valu-able book on the foundress of our community, Frances Siedliska. With phones now in every room, telephone ministry to family and friends became possible. Advocacy for human rights and other special interests is also a possible ministry for the sisters. If we live by the truth and in love, we can "grow in all ways into Christ" (Ep 4:15). All these ways of service build the king-dom of love among the family of God; they express the mis-sion of the Congregation of the Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth. "Tell Him to Wait!" Several months ago Sister Helen, our 95-year-old, was quite ill. She ceased to breathe during an MRI, and the hospital staff, acting on impulse rather than consulting her advance directive, resuscitated her. The doctor called me and told me Sister had been placed on a breathing machine. Twenty-four hours later the doctor removed the breathing machine, and, staunchly, Sister Helen survived the ordeal. I visited her in the hospital and reminded her gently, "Sister Helen, you are very ill. Perhaps 1K1 March-April 2002 Jesus will call you soon." "Let him wait," she bellowed; "I'm not dead yet!" I was taken aback, slow to see the humor. Later I reflected: "She has been a baptized Catholic for ninety-five years and a member of our religious community for eighty years. She has prayed each day of those years. She has a profound rela-tionship with God. After eighty years of relating, a certain free-dom of relationship must exist between lovers. How free Love can make us!" Sister Caritas died several years ago, and I especially remem-ber her dying. Racked with fever, in great distress, she held my finger tightly--so firmly that it reminded me of what my friend Maureen told me about a birth. Her sister's husband was on a business trip, and Maureen was in the delivery room with her sister. Her sister grasped her hand so tightly during the birth that Maureen needed several weeks of hand therapy afterward. While grasping my finger, Sister Caritas, too, was being born, born into eternal life. I have been with others who have died, not all struggling as did Sister Caritas. Some have gone to the Lord gently. Others have chosen to stop treatment and accepted the palliative care that became part of that choice. Some died after years, months, or a few days of being bedridden; others, while taking a nap. Each "birthing" has been different, each one very final, each one inviting me to deepen my belief in the life hereafter. Here at the Manor--or anywhere, of course--other kinds of dying occur earlier, before that actual moment. Every stage of Elisabeth Kubler-Ross's death-and-dying theory is lived out here: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance.1° Are some stages more appropriate, more holy, than others? ls the sis-ter in denial less effective in dealing with dying than the one who is angry and displacing it at every available opportunity? And the one who bargains--"If I keep on living on the third floor, I'll never get like those on the second floor"--is she less holy than the one whose depression shows all over her face and in her every bodily move? And is she still less holy than the one who grieves her loss, accepts additional personal help, gently accepts the everyday deaths and dyings that are part of human experience? I think there can be no comparisons here. When one strug-gles in the face of d~ath, regardless of what type, the struggle is Review for Religious real. "It remains true," as Pope John Paul has observed, "that the years pass quickly, and the gift of life, for all the effort and pain it involves, is too beautiful and precious for us ever to grow tired of it." 1, And so we struggle and deny, are angered, bargain, and are depressed. In the end we do accept the reality that has been presented to us by Life. The challenge for me in the Manor community was to have faith in this precious journey and trust that the increasing pains are redemptive. I chose to permit people to be themselves: I challenge, but do not force. Rather, I wait in patience for God's grace to touch hearts and hurts and lead all of us into his sacred presence. My Beloved As we religious grow toward accepting death, the inevitable reality shared by all creation, I believe that a life of prayer sustains us. Deep within us all there is an amazing inner sanctuary of the soul, a holy place, a Divine Center, a speaking Voice, to which we may continuously return . It is a Light within which illuminates the face of God. for the spiritual person is forever bringing all affairs down into the light, holding them there in the Presence, reseeing [sic] them and the whole of the world., in a new and overturning way.12 A life of prayer is different for each of us: some tending to more prescribed prayers, others to a more wordless prayer. What is common about prayer life is the deep relationship with God that is so special and so sacred to each one. Inscribed on each sis-ter's profession ring are the words "My Beloved is mine and I am His," from the Song of Songs (2:16). She not only wears that ring, she lives that reality. Recently I was asked to be the community witness when Sister Ann's casket was closed. Before burial we normally remove from the deceased our congregational cross and ring. On this occasion the undertaker could not remove the ring. I advised him to leave it and close the coffin. Reflecting on this moment afterwards, I considered it to be as symbolic as the ring itself. Sister Ann, orphaned as a child, surrendered herself to God March-April 2002 Wodarczyk * Aging through her vows and eventually, as Alzheimer's disease kept taking its toll, was stripped of family, friends, and even cogni-tion. The one thing that remained was the reality: she was her Beloved's and her Beloved was hers. The sisters at the Manor foster that relationship with their Beloved in many ways, including personal and communal prayer. Communally we have had to vary our prayer style here. Because of impaired hearing and sight and various other physical limi-tations, we no longer say Office in common. But the sisters pray faithfully --in their rooms, in the chapel, at Mass, on the porch, while walking outdoors or in the corridors, and during our spe-cial Friday mornings in the chapel. When they are very ill, they may say they cannot pray, and some are troubled by this. Others say that they are simply united with Jesus in their suffering, which is "nothing compared with His." Still others are quiet, their faith wrapping them palpably like a shawl. At times faith grows in darkness. It is no small discomfort when one who has dedicated her ehtire life to God questions the existence of God. When suffering is too much, "God, O God, why did you abandon me?" becomes the prayer of the day, or week, or even longer. In community, even as we pray in various ways, we journey in prayer together. Just as the psalms pray through the gamut of human emotion, so our lives together become a living psalter. Anlen I cannot think of any richer ministry experience within my thirty-nine years as a member of the Congregation of the Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth than the time I spent in service to my sisters at Holy Family Manor. But my two three-year terms as convent superior here have come to an end. "Relieved?" my current provincial superior asked me before announcing my replacement. "Mixed feelings," I mumbled. But I know that this is right and good. My body and my spirit home in on a few words in my Moses poem: "Take offyour shoes, believe in your Moses, and go." Now they have a fuller meaning: ". go, relax awhile, and then, changed by this burning-bush experience of yours, go on and minister to whatever people I, your God, choose for you!" I respond: Amen. Review for Religious Notes l Jane Marie Thibault, A Deepening Love Affair: The Gift of God in Later in Life (Nashville: Upper Room Books, 1993). 2 The welcoming service was composed by Sister Therese Frankowski. 3 The names of most of the sisters in this article have been changed. 4 Henri J.M. Nouwen, Behold the Beauty of the Lord: Praying with Icons (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1987). s Henri J.M. Nouwen, Our Greatest Gift: A Meditation on Dying and Caring (New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 1994). 6 David Snowden PhD, Aging with Grace: What the Nuns' Study Teaches Us about Leading Longer, Healthier, and More Meaningful Lives (New York: Bantam Press, 2001). 7 Jean-Pierre de Caussade, Abandonment to Divine Providence, trans. John Beevers (New York: Image Books, 1975), p. 34. ~ Caussade, p. 37. 9 The Way of Perfection, chap. 4. ,0 Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, On Death and Dying (New York: Macmillan Publishing Company, 1969). '~ John Paul II, Letter to the Elderly (1 October 1999), §1. ,z C.S. Lewis, as cited in A Step Beyond: Advanced Training in Pastoral Bereavement Counseling (Archdiocese of New York: The Ministry to the Bereaved, November 1994), p. 32. School Day, 1947 I am seven, on my way to school, crisp snow sparkles in the sun. As I walk along, I reflect that some day a man will offer me a diamond ring, but today God himself has hurled thousands at my feet. Mary Hanson ~larch-April 2002 HELEN JEAN NOVY Coping with Repetition: A Spirituality for Ministering to the Elderly ~ehncoeuthneter rds uwriinthg tfhaem eilldye rvlyis iotfst eonr ifnovromlvael mdeianliisntgry w, iothur their habits of repetition. I have overheard "Dad, you say the exact same thing every time I come," and I have heard myself saying "Mom, you ask me that again and again." The proverb "Variety is the spice of life" inclines us to assume variety as a condition of anyone's continuing interest or at least as a lively attention getter. Repetition, however, is a necessary complement to variety. A systematic interplay of repetition and variation is a sine qua non for the arts. Consider the structure of sonatas or the form of songs. Aaron Copland's "Simple Gifts" in Appalachian Spring is an example of theme and variations, as is Max Reger's Variations on "America." In prayer, too, there is repetiton and variation. Christians regularly praying the Liturgy of the Hours, for example, are so accustomed to Morning Prayer's psalms for Week One that most know them by heart. Their predictability provides a rhythm that matches the regularity of breathing. But along with this comes the season's or feast's antiphon, giving a turn to the verses of the psalm and in a sense reinventing them. Helen Jean Novy HM is director of mission effectiveness at Magnificat High School; 20770 Hilliard Road; Rocky River, Ohio 44116. Review for Religious For Sunday of the First Week in Ordinary Time, this antiphon begins and ends Psalm 63: "As morning breaks I look to you, O God, to be my strength this day." The antiphon suffuses the psalmist's words that follow: "O God, you are my God, for you I long; for you my soul is thirsting. My body pines for you like a dry, weary land without water." For the feast of Saints Peter and Paul, a different anti-phon frames the same psalm w"I know the one whom I have trusted"--and gives it a different tinge: "O God, you are my God, for you I long; for you my soul is thirsting. My body pines for you like a dry, weary land without water." The synoptic Gospels, echoing each other in recounting the same events and sayings, do it with small yet significant differences. Compare the healing of Peter's mother-in-law in Mark 1 .'31 ("he came and took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her"), in Luke 4:39 ("he stood over her and rebuked the fever, and it left her"), and in Matthew 8:15 ("he touched her hand, and the fever left her, and she got up"). Might these considerations guide our responses to the repetitiousness of elderly people who have debilities of memory or concentration? Each encounter with another person, even though seemingly routine, is a new arid original encounter. Both parties are changed by the passing of time--by the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual experiences of the intervening time--even if only minutely. Health has improved or declined; the weather has turned warmer or cooler; clothes are brighter or more uniform; the staff has been updated or has had a turnover; the family has been reunited or suffered a loss; a sacrament has been received or a prayer prayed. "No need to recall the past. I am doing a new thing" (Is 43:18-19). Could Yahweh God be doing this new thing daily? God indeed adds yeast to the dough of the soul, lets it work, and gives it the kneading it requires: prayer and contemplation, opportunities for good works and self-sacrifice, active or passive Perhaps the most mutually soothing response to unceasing repetitions is a silent laying on of hands, a gentle and loving touch. I67 March-April 2002 Novy ¯ Coping witb Repetition suffering, or simply love's perpetually re-creating thoughts and deeds and words. Does it take yeoman patience to hear the same questions, the same comments, the same concerns day in and day out, hour by hour, and even minute by minute? Of course, those who minister have to work on themselves, cultivating a reliable equanimity and ideally a blend of knowing tolerance and psychological and spiritual understanding: Thank heaven she can still respond., what a grace that we can still interact., how humbling that he takes his own debility in stride., bow merciful that she is unaware., what a gift.t that I can encounter the very Christ in the simplicity and vulnerability of this person. Perhaps the most mutually soothing response to unceasing repetitions is a silent laying on of hands, a gentle and loving touch. Only by taking the tensions and strains of working with the sick-elderly to prayer again and again will ministers discover each person as an "imago Christi, a living analogue of the crucified Christ. As they do this, the ministers themselves will be molded into other Christs. They may find themselves praying the antiphons and psalms of the Liturgy of the Hours in the persona of Christ in the sick-elderly: "For you my soul is thirsting. My body pines for you like a dry, weary land without water." In the purview of faith, while the soul of the minister is being tuned to a new pitch, the souls of those they minister to become new songs. The Spirit sings through the adaptive constancy of the one and the dulling repetitions of the others, harmonizing both in the mystery of Divine Providence's unfathomable workings. G.K. Chesterton suggested that we should not take for granted the rising of the sun. Such a glorious phenomenon may well depend on the childlike delight of God calling for an encore: "Do it again, Sun!" Ultimately, deepening spirituality will not only expect the unexpected; it will expect the familiar, the recurring, the repetitious. It will perceive even the annoyance of repetition as a melodic refrain within the grand orchestration ¯ of God. Review for Religious JOAN WAGNER Medaille's "Means" and Religious Life's Renewal At our last meeting, in June 1998, I attempted to show that the primitive documents of the Sisters of St. Joseph indicate that apostolic endeavors have deep mystical foundations. In the present paper I examine other aspects of these primitive documents, aspects that pertain especially to the communal life of small communities that undertake apostolic ministry. Because this article focuses on the spiritual and apostolic insights of Father Jean-Pierre Medaille SJ, it is intended especially for those who walk in his tradition, but also for all professed religious who seek the deepening of their community life and their apostolic action. I will focus on six "means" derived from Father Medaille's writings, but first I draw your attention to two Scripture passages that were of major importance for Medaille: Have this mind among yourselves, which was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself taking the form of a p rspecliv s Joan Wagner ssJ presented this paper in Milwaukee in June 2001 at the fifth triennial meeting of the Conference on the History of Women Religious. Her address is Little Design Community; 171 Schiller Street; Buffalo, New York 14206. March-April 2002 Wagner * Medaille's "Means" servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. (Ph 2:5-11) That they may all be one; even as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that thou hast sent me. The glory which thou hast given me I have given to them that they may be one even as we are. one, I in them and thou in me, that they may become per-fectly one, so that the world may know that thou hast sent me and hast loved them even as thou hast loved me. (Jn 17:21-23) I think that adopting Father Medaille's "means" could help contemporary religious to practice the emptying spoken of in Philippians and thereby achieve the unions spoken of in John's Gospel. After discussing these "means," I will offer some concrete proposals for living them. The new community to which I belong, the community of the Little Design, is attempting to establish its communal life on "the means of Medaille." Clarifying the Scope of Medaille's "Means" The six "means" that I will be discussing cannot be found at any one location within the Primitive Documents of the Sisters of St. Joseph. In fact, nowhere in Medaille's writings did he use the term "means" as I use it in this article. It is a concept that was first formed in the latter decades of the 20th century, that is, three hundred years after Medaille, by a commentator on the Primitive Documents, Sister Julie Harkins of the Boston Sisters of St. Joseph. I first encountered Sister Julie's work when I attended a charism retreat that she gave in Wichita, Kansas. In her presentation she referred to "six central means found in the lived experience of our first sisters to maintain unity among themselves and to be apostolic communities of love." Even as I Review for Religious taped her presentation at that conference, I felt that her ideas and concepts about Medaille's approach were truly a treasure. It seemed to me that Medaille had applied St. Ignatius Loyola's Rules for Discernment in a new way, using at the communal level the retreat pedagogy of reflection on experience. He adapted those rules to unlettered and diverse groups of women, to assist them in becoming apostolic communities of love. Other interpreters of the Primitive Documents of the Sisters of St. Joseph such as Sister Vacher and Sister de Vaublanc have analyzed the practices that Medaille proposed for the early sisters. Not all of these commentators would agree that the six "means" identified by Sister Julie Harkins capture the heart of Medaille's approach. Other phrasings and other lists of "means" have been proposed. It has also been suggested that Medaille's approach can be represented by one expansive "means," the sisters' sharing their hearts unreservedly. To shed additional light on whether I-Iarldns's six "means" adequately represent Medaille's approach, I suggest that we consider how difficult it would be to distill the central practices recommended by St. Paul. We know that Paul wrote extensively about the living of the Christian life. (His writings are far more extensive than Medaille's even if we consider all the Maxims and other Primitive Documents to be authentically his.) How then to express the central "means" of St. Paul? One commentator might comb through his writings and identify six "means" as central. Another might determine that there are actually four or eight or one. Obviously there is much room for disagreement. Keep in mind, then, that there are various ways of presenting the essence of Medaille's approach even as I now list Harkins's six "means." I advocate them as the basis of the community life of religious women, today--but always understanding their meaning within the Gospels' call to discipleship. Please note, too, that in Harldns's list there are two dimensions in Means 2 (and perhaps in Means 3 as well). And there is some overlapping among the various "means" since the boundaries among them are not tightly drawn. Finally, note that Means 6 is phrased in such a broad, all-encompassing way that it seems to subsume the preceding five "means." Here, then, is Sister Julie Harkins's list of Medaille's "means": 171 March-April 2002 _Wag~, er ¯ Medaille's "Means" 1. Sharing experiences and feelings in prayer and doing so with candor and simplicity (Reglements, p. 9 par. 6). 2. Sharing the state of the house (outer as well as inner) and sharing the next step to which ofie is called (Reglements, p. 8 par. 4; Primitive Constitutions, p. 16 par. 1; p. 21 par. 4, 5, 6; p. 39 par. 6; p. 51 par. 8). 3. Sharing the dangers (evils) that threaten community life; protesting (promising) to safeguard what will safeguard the common union (Primitive Constitutions, pp. 58-66; Protestations, pp. 67-68). 4. Sharing what is our city and dividing the city among ourselves to discover the evils and to work for their healing (Primitive Constiitutions, p. i1 par. 6; p. 29 par. 9; p. 30 par. 1-3; p. 31 par. 1-2). 5. Sharing with each other how through works of service they are building the kingdom of love among the dear neighbors and the members of the community (Reglements, p. 8 par. 4; Primitive Constitutions, p. 17 par. 2). 6. Fidelity to the core spirituality: being grouped in honor of the Father, Son, and Spirit; Jesus, Mary, and Joseph (Maxims of Perfection, pp. 21-22; Reglements, pp. 4-5; Primitive Constitutions, pp. 12 and 57). Putting Medaille's "Means" into Practice You can see that the first three "means" listed pertain to spiritual bonding within the community; they deal primarily with discernment of spirits as a way of life. The next two "means" pertain to discerning the apostolic and prophetic stance to which the community may be called; these "means" address discernment as a decision-making process. Finally, the sixth "means" stands above the others and informs all of them inasmuch as it focuses upon the mystical relationships that are at the heart of the calling that Medaille identified for the Sisters of St. Joseph. I am keenly excited about having our Little Design community underway. This small community employs Medaille's own term, and it represents the fulfillment of a dream for refoundation that I have had for forty years. (Be it known, however, that at least one other person has called this dream my Review for Religious obsession.) As I write, this house is only three months old and at present has only two members. We have good hopes of attracting other young women who are interested in a life that is based on these six "means" of becoming an apostolic community of love. Let us now consider Medaille's first "means": sharing experiences and feelings in prayer and doing so with candor and simplicity. I will first try to explain why I feel that this is important, and then I will offer some recommendations about how to practice such sharing. The mystery of faith revealed to us in Scripture, particularly in Paul and John, is that all of history is now sacred history. This is the impact of the incarnation on our daily life (note--in Philippians 2:6-11, one of the passages cited above--the relevance of Paul's theology). All of our ordinary daily life is filled with God drawing our human consciousness to God's Self. God desires for us an ever-growing love and participation in the life of Jesus. This goes on in each moment of our human experience, and it registers as a thought, a tendency, a mood, a feeling. (Father George Aschenbrenner SJ has emphasized this approach in his conferences.) It is one thing to believe this. It is another to be deeply aware of it. It is a third step to be keenly sensitive to it. Our response is toward a greater share in living out Jesus' mission (note here the relevance of the John 17 passage on unity). To share within a community (I envision one of three to five sisters) one's experience in prayer presupposes incarnational theology and could move the community from believing to the final stage of responding. Submission to the group mandate for the purpose of growth enables believing, awareness, and sensitivity to develop. And movements of grace obviously become more explicit when inner awareness moves to vocal articulation. Sharing one's prayer experience with candor and simplicity is a demanding endeavor. An emptying is required, but I believe it leads to a new depth of communal unity if it is done in faith, All of our ordinary daily life is f!lled with God drawing our human consciousness to God's Self. --!73 Mt~.rcb-dpril 2002 Wagner ¯ Medaille's "Means" trust, and love. This depth is the mystery of God made more manifest in and among ourselves. We become more conscious of the call to respond and to be accountable. How would this be implemented? A possible scenario would be a biweekly gathering at which community members would relate movements of consolation and desolation during their prayer of the previous few days. Journaling after prayer periods would help members to be more responsibly prepared for the group gathering. Those who have had an Ignatian directed retreat will easily identify with this process. At present our small community enters into Morning Praise with a psalm, quiet time to reflect, and then the citing of a word, phrase, or line that was "given." The Gospel for the day is then read aloud. This is followed by a brief period of quiet and a brief time of communal sharing. All of this is done within half an hour and prepares us for deeper listening at liturgy. The content of our prayer in the future may vary, but the communal sharing is integral. Medaille's second "means" has three aspects: sharing the state of the house (outer as well as inner) and sharing the next step to which one is called. "The state of the house" has two meanings: first, the practical details of the community's living quarters. For harmonious living, responsibility and accountability are expected from every member. Such matters as cleaning, shopping for food, preparing meals, paying bills, scheduling prayer, hospitality, and times for silence are basic elements in a well-ordered "house." Honesty prevailing, the community will be aware of members' overextension or ill health, of things needing repair, and so forth. With solutions to be found, the quality presence of each member is important. The ebb and flow of external harmony is guaranteed by this practical sharing. The other "house" is the inner one, the heart. Teresa of Avila in her Way of Perfection notes that in praying it is essential to recognize and own how one is as one stands before the Beloved: weak, grateful, sinful, needy. This ownership of my incarnate self relates me to the incarnate Jesus. In truth, to articulate that inner state demands honesty, probes causes, and elicits understanding. What a sacred gift to offer my sisters: an emptying for the purpose of union,t My creaturely limitation stands naked before the Christ I trust, and before the Body of Review for Religious Christ in my sisters. Transformation in Christ occurs when I share in Jesus' life--in his being child of God and sharer in created human nature. The next aspect of the second "means," sharing the next step to which one is called, flows out of the group's increasing sensitivity. Articulation of deeper desires was a requirement for Jesuit novices, and this may have influenced Medaille to recommend this sharing to the first sisters. Great desires for God need to be fostered into action or they die. One's next step may be small and subtle or grand and significant. It could be to create a dream, to change a pattern of behavior, to attend to one's health, or to begin a new relationship. Such matters require careful handling with regard to the members' personal and communal mission. They begin in the human heart. It was the sharing that Teresa of Avila had with John of the Cross that enabled them to take the next steps for the refoundation of the Carmelite order. It was the vision that Ignatius shared with Francis Xavier that led to his bringing the faith to south and east Asia. Incarnational theology points out that our deepest desires are God-given. The word God gives us is to be spoken and enfleshed. The emptying required in taking next steps in our lives is attested to in the lives of men and women who accomplished much for God. A Saturday morning once a month could be set aside to ensure Medaille's second "means." Although the focus would vary, all aspects of this "means" would be attended to within this leisurely time together. Community members could take turns facilitating a simple process that might begin with listening to a member describe a project that she feels called to initiate. The listening could be followed b~ quiet reflection, questions, and dialogue. In this way one member's hopeful desire would be gracefully fostered and nurtured or deemed unsuitable or temporarily tabled for deeper discerning. At present our Little Design community gathers in the community room on Saturday mornings for about an hour and a Incarnational theology points out that our deepest desires are God-given. March-April 2002 H~ner * Medaille'~ "Means" half, a time we consider sacred. Because we are a new community, we do this every Saturday unless some special event interferes. We realize, too, that it is easy to spend too much time on the "outer" house, and so we strive to ensure the more interior and bonding elements of this second "means." Medaille's third "means" is sharing the dangers (evils) that threaten community life, protesting (promising) to safeguard what will safeguard the common union. One might ask wh

Issue 20.1 of the Review for Religious, 1961. ; Volume 20 1961 EDITORIAL O~FICE St. Mary's College St. Marys, Kansas BUSINESS OFFICE 428 E. Preston St. Baltimore 2, Maryland EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. Henry Willmering, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS John E. Becker, S.J. Emile G. McAnany, S.J. DEPARTMENTAL EDITORS Questions and Answers Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Woodstock College Woodstock, Maryland Book Reviews Earl A. Weis, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana Published in January, March, May, July, September, Novem-ber on the fifteenth of the month. REVIEW FOR RELI-GIOUS is indexed in the CATHOLIC PERIODICAL IN-DEX. JOHN XXIII Devotion to the Precious Blood [The following is an English translation of the Latin text of the apostolic epistle Inde a prirais, which Pope John xxIiI issued on June 30, 1960, concerning the fosterihg 6f devotion to ~the Precious Blood of Christ. The original text oF the docu-ment is to be found in Acta Apostolicae Seitis, 52 (1960), 545-50.] From the first months of Our pontifical labors, it oc-curred to Us again and again--and our. solicitous~ and plain-spoken words have often been an indicatioh of Our future intentions--that when daily practices-of religious piety were to be discussed, We would invite the faithful to an ardent honoring of that reality which in a remark-able way manifests the mercy of God for the souls of men, for holy Church, and for the entire ~orld~. We would in- ' vite them, in other words, to a special veneration of the Precious Blood of Christ Jesus, our Redeemer and our Savior. ~' We Ourselves became accustomed to this devotion in the home in which We were raised. Even today it is with happiness that We recall that every day during the month of July Our parents used to recite at home the litanies of the Precious Blood. Following the apostolic exhortation, "Take heed"to yourselves and to the entire flock whereof the Holy Spirit has made you bishops for the ruling of the Church of God which he acquired by his own blood" (Acts 20:28), We have decided, venerable Brethren, that the principal and pressing duties of Our pastoral office demand that We first of all take care of sound doctrine and secondly that We provide for the right exercise and conduct of religious piety, both" in its public and its° private manifestations. For this reason it hag.seemed to Us opportune to exhort Our sons to consider the indissoluble bond which should link the two widely diffused devotions to the Holy Name of Jesus and to the Sacred Heart of Christ with the're-. ligious homage to be offered to the Precious Blood of the Incarnate Word which was poured forth "for man~ for a remission of sins" (see Mt 26:28). ÷ ÷ ÷ D~votion to Precious Blood VOLUME 20, 1961 4, 4, ]olm XXIH REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 4 Just as it is of the utmost importance that the liturgical action of the Church should be in full accord with the profession of the faith;since "the law of belief determines the law of prayer";1 and just as no forms of piety should be introduced which do not flow from the purest fonts of the truths of faith; so it is also right that the various types of devotions should agree among themselves. It is actually necessary that those forms of piety which are re-garded as the most important and which are more apt for the attainment of holiness should in no way disagree with or oppose each other. It is likewise necessary that the forms of piety which from the viewpoint of value and of use are of limited and minor importance should yield ground to those forms which contribute more to the ob-taining of the salvation that was accomplished by Him who is "the mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus, who gave himself as a redemption for all" (1 Tim 2:5-6). If the faithful derive the driving forces of their personalities and the discipline of their lives from a correct faith and a sane piety, then they can be assured that they are thinking with the Church and that through their union of prayer and their charity they are clinging to that Christ Jesus who is the Founder and High Priest of the lofty religion which derives its name, dignity, and power from Him. Even if only a hasty glance be directed to the admirable new emphases that the Church has attained in the field and area of liturgical piety--and such emphases are in full accord with that salutary progress of the faith wards a fuller understanding of divine truth-~it becomes consolingly clear that in the last few centuries this Aposto-lic See has often and openly approved and recommended the three religious devotions We have already mentioned. Although these devotions had been introduced into the practice of Christian living by a number of the faithful during the Middle Ages and although they were after-wards propagated in various dioceses and in various re-ligious orders and congregations, yet it was necessary that the authority of the Chair of Peter should intervene in order that these practices might be declared to be in ac-cord with Catholic faith and that they might be extended to the universal Church. It will be sufficient to recall here that from the. sixteenth century Our predecessors had bestowed spiritual benefits on the devotion to the Holy Name of Jesus which in the previous century St. Bernadine of Siena had untiringly propagated ~hroughout Italy. In honor of this Holy Name an Office and a Mass were first approved, then a litany.~ x See the encyclical Mediator Dei, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 39 (1947), 54. t See .4cta Sanctae Sedis, 18 (1886), 509. fewer were the benefits with which the P~oman Pon- :iffs promdted the devotion to the Sacrffd 'Heart of Jesus, devotion that was so greatly helped to its achievement its full and complete form and its universal propaga-aon by those matters whlcti~were~,made clear'to St. Mar-garet Mary Alacoque by Christ when He appeared to her showing her His Heart. With admirable unanimity the Roman Pontiffs have honored this religious practice not only by pointing out its power and its nature but also by declaring its legitimacy and by promoting its use through-out the entire world~a All this has been done in many public documents of the Church, the three most impor-tant of which are three encyclicals devoted' t6 this topic.4 As was only right, the consent and the approval of this Apostolic See were not lacking for the devotion to the Precious Blood of Christ, the remarkable promoter of which in the last century was St. Gaspar del Bufalo, priest of the Roman clergy. In this connection it will be remem-bered that at the command of Benedict XIV a Mass and an Office were composed in honor of the adorable Blood of the Divine Redeemer; Moveover, Plus IX, in order to fulfil a vow made to God at Gaeta, ordered this liturgical ¯ feast to be extended to the universal Church.5'Finally the Supreme Pontiff of happy memory, Pius XI, raised this feast to a double of the first class in order to per-petuate the memory of the jubilee which took place on the occasion of the nineteen hundredth anniversary of the' redemption of the human race. He did this because he was convinced that the increased solemnity of the feast would foster a deeper devotion to the~: Blood of the Re-deemer and that thereby more abundant effects of the same divine Blood would result for mankind. We were but~ following the example of Our predeces-sors when, in order that devotion to the Precious Blood of Christ, the immaculate Lamb, might grow an, d flourish, We approved its litanies as properly set forth by' the sacred .congregation8 and recommended to the entire Christian family the private and public recitation of the same by attaching to them special indulgences.7 Our de- 8 See the Of?ice o! the Feast of the Sacred Heart, Second Nocturn, Fifth Lesson. *The encyclical Annum sacrum in dcta Leonis, 19 (1899), 71 ft.; the encyclical Miserentissimus Redemptor in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 20 (1928), 165 ft.; and the encyclical Haurietis aquas in Acta Aposto-licae Sedis, 48 (1956), 309 ft. ~See the decree Redempti sumus of August 10, 1849, in the Ar-chives of the Sacred Congregation of Rites, decrees for the years 1848--49, folio 209. e See Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 52 (1960), 412-13. ¢ Decree of the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary of March 3, 1960, in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 52 (1960), 420. 4. 4. 4- Devotion to the Precious Blood VOLUME 20, 1961 4. 4. John XXIII REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 6 cision in th~is matter, pertaining as it did to the solicitude for all the churches (see 1 (]or 11:28) which is proper to the .Supreme. Pontiff, was prompted by the hope that in these days of great and pressing spiritual needs the faith-ful might continue to increase their respect for those three forms of Christian piety which We previously praised and that they come to see them as possessing a perpetually salutary power of effectively promoting the spiritual life. Since the feast and month are now approaching which are dedicated to the Blood of Christ, the price of our re-demption and the pledge of a salvation and of a life that will never fail, the faithful should meditate on this Blood with renewed fervor and should partake of it by more frequent reception of the sacrament of the Eucharist. Il-luminated by the light which comes from the profitable admonitions of Sacred Scripture and from the precepts of the holy fathers and doctors of the Church, they should recall how abundant and limitless is the power of this truly Precious Blood, "one drop of which is able to wash the entire world from every sin," as holy Church sings t.hrough the lips of the Angelic Doctors and as was wisely confirmed by Our predecessor, Clement VI.0 The power then of the Blood of Christ, God and man, is infinite; infinite too is the love which moved our Re-deemer to pour it forth for us. This shedding of His Blood began .eight days after His birth when He was cir-cumcised. Later it was shed more copiously when being in agony in Gethsemani, He prayed the longer (see Lk 22:43), when He was scourged and crowned with thorns, when He climbed the hill of Calvary and was there affixed to the cross, and when at the end His side was opened by a great wound which was to be the sign of the divine Blood that flows out into the sacraments of the Church. All these events show that it is not only fitting but even highly necessary that all the hithful, reborn as they have been in the streams of this Blood, should adore it in a spirit of religious homage and should honor it with their love. It is most salutary and entirely fitting that the worship of adoration which is due to the chalice of the Blood of the new ~fid eternal testamefit, especially when it is ele-vated in the Eucharistic sacrifice for the worshipful gaze of the faithful, should be followed by the reception of that Blood. This is possible, because in the sacrament of the Eucharist the Blood of Christ is received since it~is joined by an indissoluble bond to His Body. Joined in mind with the priest, the faithful who attend" Mass can In the hymn ddoro te devote. See the bull Unigenitus Dei Filius of January 25, 1343, as cited in Denzinger-Rahner, n. 550. most properly repeat to themselves the words which the priest says at the time of his sacred Communion: "I will take the chalice of salvation and I will call upon the name of the Lord . The Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ guard my soul unto life e~ei:nal, Ameh." There can be no doubt that in this way the faithful, whenever they wor-thily approach the sacred synaxis, will receive a more abundant, share of those fruits of the redemption, of the resurrection, and of eternal life which the Blood offered by Christ "throu.gh the Holy Spirit" (Heb~9:14)~acquired fbr all the family of mankind:Nourished by the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ and sharing in that divine power of His which has raised up in the Church numberless ranks of martyrs, the faithful will find it easier to bear ~the labors and troubles of everyday life; and should it be necessary for the sake of Christian virtue~and the kingdom of God, they will even sacrifice their lives, for they will be burning with that ardent love which caused St. John Chrysostom to exclaim in his writings: "Let us come back from the table as lions, breathing fire, terrible to the devil, realizing who our Head i~ and how great a love He has shown for us . This Blood ~hen it is worthily re-ceived, drives out the devils and _calls to our side the angels and even the Lord of the angels.~. This Blood when it was poured forth Washed the entire world . It is the price of the world; it is that b~ which Christ bought His Church . These thoughts will moderate our passions. How long will we cling to present things? How long will we refuse to be aroused? How~lo.ng will we take no care of our salvation? Let us reflec( what honors God has be-stowed on us;.a.n.d then letus give thanks and give back glory not only by our faith but also by our deeds.''x° It is to be hoped that those ~ho are honored by the name of Christian will frequently consider the fatherly exhortation of the first Supreme Pontiff when he wrote: "Spend the time of your sojourn here in reverence, in the realization that you were redeemed not by gold or silver., but by the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot" (I Pet 1:17-19). May they also.listen closely to the Apostle of the Gentiles when he says: "You have been purchased at a great price. Glo-rify God then and carry Him in your body" (1 Cor 6:20). If all the faithful take these texts to heart, then their way of life by which they should be an example to others will become more noble and more fitting. Thus it will come about that the Church, strengthened by such virtue, will carry out its earthly task to the profit of the human race. Men, peoples, and nations will be joined by a close bond of brotherly love, if they will yield themselves to the move- See Homily 46 on the Gospel o] John in Migne, Patrologia Graeca, 59, 260-61. + + + Devotion to the Precious Blood VOLUME 20, 1961 ments of the grace of that God who wishes all men to be ¯ saved (see 1 Tim 2:4), who has willed the redemption of them all in the Blood of His only begotten Son, and who hag called all of them to become members of the one Mystical Body whose Head is Christ. Civil society itself will thereby enjoy a serene peace; and human nature, which was created to the image and likeness of its Maker (see Gen 1:26), will become yet more worthy of God. It was to a consideration of this lofty dignity to which mankind has been divinely called that St. Paul exhorted those converted Jews who were too much attached to the institutions of the Old Testament even though the latter was but a dim figure and image of the New Testament: "You have come to Mount Sion, to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, to the companionship of many thousands of the angels, tb the comunity of the first-born who are now citizens of heaven, to God, the judge of all things, to the spirits of the just who have been made perfect, to Jesus the mediator of the new covenant, and to a sprinkling of blood that is far more eloquent than that of Abel" (Heb 12:22-24). We are certain, venerable Brethren, that Our fatherly exhortation, when communicated in the way you judge best to you.r people and your clergy, will be put into salu-tary and effective execution in a spirit of willing coopera-tion. Accordingly as a sign of heavenly gifts and as a pledge of Our special benevolence, We impart in full charity Our apostolic blessing to each and every one of you as well as to your flocks, especially to those who carry out Our desires with devoted alacrity. Given at Rome in St. Peter's, the thirtieth day of June, on the vigil of the Feast~ of the Precious Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, in the year 1960, the second of Our pontificate. John XXIII REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS CHARLES A. SC.HLECK, C.S.C. The Sister in the Church When something good, nobie, and sublime is called into question or becomes obscure, it usually calls into existence an immense amount of thought,~reflection, and literature. Indeed, if we are to meet the demands of the situation fully and adequately, the whole matter of the entire reality must once more be subjected to a prolonged and meditative scrutiny. There is usually not so much a question of justifying its existence as there is of getting back to its roots, of elucidating and bringing into the light and clarity of the common vision the fundalnental and essential meaning of the institution in question. And this is especially true when this institution has been estab-lished by God or by His Church. What we feel in such a case is the need to see straight, or rather to see into the core and the heart of the reality itself. In the past such was true of several of the mysteries of divine revelation, the Incaination, fok example, the Trinity, grace, the divine motherhood. This calling of an institution into question together with" the consequent obscurity that almost destroys our appreciation of it has been common in our own day in the case of the Church herself, Mariology, the role of the laity in the Church, and Christian virginity or the religious sister in the Church. Consequently we witness today an outpouring of much labor, thought, and writing which, with more or less suc-cess, attempts in one way or another to penetrate into the divine reasons for the existence of such mysteries and their essential and basic meaning. And while each of these re-alities would certainly be a most interesting topic for our consideration, the one that is being singled out in the present .article is the institution of Christian virginity, or more precisely and exactly, the role of the religious sister in the Church. At the very outset we ought to note that one aspect of this vocation has rarely been called, into question or fallen into obscurity at least as far as the apostolic re- Thee Reverend Charles A. Schleck, C.S.C. teaches theology at Holy Cross College (seminary), 4001 Hare-wood Road N.E., Wash-ington 17, D.C. VOLUME 20~ 1961 9 ~. ~. sa,~, c.~.c. REVIE~ FOR RELIGIOUS lO ligious sister is concerned. And that is the utility, the contribution which such a vocation makes to one or other of the needs of our visible society. There are very few who would call into question the utility of the teaching, or of the care for the sick and the abandoned, or of the other spiritual and corporal works of mercy which form part and parcel of the various apostolates and missions entrusted to apostolic communities of religious women in the Church. In fact, the thought and the writing that has come forth in defense of the sister's vocation has tended to make this its principal and chief weapon. But when we come to another aspect of this vocation, one that touches the very soul of it and centers around the fundamental meaning of this vocation, then we find very few even among Catholics who understand what is perhaps the primary and basic mission of the sister in the Church. The proof of this, it seems, lies ih the fact that the question Ut quid perditio haec still remains in the minds of so many inside and outside the Church"To what avail is this loss of womanhood, this institution of virginity?" From the fact that this question mark still rematns and is even looming larger in certain areas of our country in spite of all the writing and speaking that has been done on the subject, we can conclude, without any kind iSf violence or exaggeration being done to the actual situation, that people by and large do not consider the collaboration in action with other institutions of so-ciety as a sufficient explanation of the vocation of the re-ligious sister. And that is a sobering thought; for these people are, perhaps, more right in their conviction or as-sumption than any of us ~ould be willing to admit. No, it is not the i'prose" of the sister's vocation that needs° clarification in the eyes of the world and in the minds of men, and perhaps even in tier own mind. It is rather the "poetry," so to speak, or the poetic symbolism of the life and mission of the sister in the Church that must be mole constantly and widely diffused both inside and ~outside the Church. For without that difftision we can not hqpe 'to make men see and love the vocation, the mission, or the role wl~ich God intends her to play in the Mystical Body Of the Church. We musi then ask ourselves the question: What is this "poetry" or this basic notion which lies at the very root of the sister's mission in the Chtirch? Only when we an-swer that question satisfactorily will we be able to di-minish and soften and, in the case of many, eliminate the objections which they raise against it. Only then can we hope to show those outside the Church and to very many inside, that the mission and the presence of the sister, far from being a block or an obstacle to the continuation of life, is itself a source of vitality and one of the most ex- cellent ins~truments by which the highest and most sub-lime form of life, if not perhaps begun, is nevertheless nourished, increased, protected, and safe-guarded, and most often formed and fashioned. The religious sister is ~v~fi tb the Church not:so much as a model or an image according to which other women must pattern their lives; neither is she given to the Church as a kind of living representation of the grace of the Christian life as it would .have been given Ito all. except by reason of some fault or' guilt on their part. No, she is given to the Church as a kind of sacrament,' a v,s~ble s~gn, a symbol of one, even of several mws,lble reahtles. To understand this assertion thoroughly, w,e need to re-call briefly the mysteries of the Trinity and of creation. In the first mystery, that of the Trinity, ~we know that God the Father communicates His own nature to God the Son, and these two persons~ commumcate this same nature to the Holy Spirit. Yet while all thre~ of these per-sons possess the one same divine nature, skill from our very limited vision this nature appears to take on differ-ent~ aspects when we consider one or other oflthese persons according to His distinctive properties or characteristics. We obtain a much clearer picture of the richness of each of the persons by linking up certain qualities or perfec-tions with which we are familiar, with one o~: other of the . divine persons. Thus itis by reason of the various kinds of processions which we find in this myster~ that we at- .~ tribute understanding to the Word of God Who proceeds by way of an operation of the divine intell~,ect; similarly we attribute love and affection to the Holy Spirit because He proceeds by way of an operation of theI divine will. In the second mystery, that of creation, God seems to have wished that His various perfections I~e manifested and shared in by many different creatures, each acc.ording to a very definite limitation, such that some would repre-sent Him more perfectly and more fully, than others. For only in this way could the fullness of His b~ing be made somewhat clear. When we focus our gaze on material creation, we see that only one creature came into being, made, as we are told, according to the lmage~ and likeness of God. Only one received a perfection or perfections which would enable it to know and to love ~;od, to share and participate in the most intimate opI e.rations of the Godhead. That creature was man. Or let ks say, it was human nature, possessed by two different~individuals who I reflect the riches of this nature in such d~ffe~ent ways that the fullness of the mystery of the human composite might stand'out the more clearly and might m,rror more per-fectly the riches of the Godhead. For we must not forget that man and woman also belong to those th.ings of which it was said by the Apostle: "From the foundations of the 4. ÷ ÷ The Sister in the Church VOLUME 20, 1961 II C. A. $chl~cl~, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS world, men have caught sight of His invisibl~ nature, his eternal power and his divinity as they are known through the things he has made" (Rom 1:20). In something of the way in which the divine nature was shared in by two person~ other than the Father, proceed-ing from Him and yet personally manifesting and empha-sizing different aspects (at least according to our imperfect vision), so too in the mystery of the human composite we see one nature shared in by two individuals who mani-fest in their whole make-up the distinct perfections of the rational creature. And just as the Word of God is the one to whom we attribute the intellectual operations of God while the Holy Spirit is the one to whom we apply the affective operations of God, so too (I do not mean to say that the parallel is entirely exact) man is the one in whom we see manifested more visibly the operations of the mind and the duties of the intellective side of our being, while woman is the one in whom we see manifested more visibly the operations of the will and the duties of the affective side of our being. Since all created beings are sent into the world as signs or "sacraments" in the broad sense of this word, and since man is an image of the Trinity, we might say that man and woman are visible signs and symbols of the intellec, tire and affective operations and perfections of God. Man is a sign or a "sacrament" more especially of God as truth, and woman is a sign or "sacrament" more especially of God as love. In a sense, then, we might say that man reflects more the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity, the Word, while woman is more the reflection of the Third Person of the Trinity, the Holy Spirit. Now while it is true that the original plan of God was interfered with and that it was set right again only when the two persons proceeding from the Father were sent in mission to men, still it is precisely here--in relation to the fall and the two missions necessitated by it--that the "poetry" or the "sacramental" role and meaning of the religious sister begins to appear in all its dignity and sublimity. For when we consider the mystery of these two divine missions, we see that the Son of God was sent in mission to instruct men and to teach them the way of salvation. His function was to preach by word of mouth those mysteries and that knowledge of God which had been hidden from the foundation of the world. The Holy Spirit, on the other hand, was sent in visible mission only very briefly and for a different purpose. For He was sent both as a sign and as a kind of mother-principle. He was sent as a sign of sanctification, a sign of what the interior renovation which takes place within the soul in the state of grace actually is. In fact, the very creatures under which He appeared manifested this role: the dove and the fire. The one, the dove, manifested the innocence of sanctity, its caution, its fruitfulness, and its silence; while the other, the fire, manifested love and the knowledge proper to love, the wisdom of the heart. Moreover, the Holy. Spirit was sent as a kind of.mothe~:prlnclple, a pi~i~i~i~ '~f re-birth, to mold the human race into a new creature. This was the work He was to continue in a silent and hidden manner by acting as the soul, the vitalizing force and power of the Church, giving birth and life to the family of God. While it is true, then, that in the mystery of the Trinity the Holy Spirit is in a sense passive, since He is the term of a divine procession but not a principle of any further divine procession, still He does not remain passive. Rather He becomes active, most active, together with the Father and the Son in the work of sanctification or of what we might call the Trinification of the members of the family of ~God. This role of the Holy Spirit has certain affinities with the role of woman. Although, of the two individuals pos-sessing human nature, she embodies the characteristics of receptivity, acceptance, and submission, this does not mean that she is inactive or merely passive. The case is far otherwise. She receives or accepts, but only to give flesh and-blood, so to speak, to what she receives, to clothe it with the more sublime qualities of human nature. By reason of her entire being--her body, her soul, her powers of understanding, her capacity for affection, her aptitudes, and her inexhaustible devotion--she is made to mother the human race, to know it in all of its depths and.heights, its crudities as well as in its sublime potentialities. Thus, she has been endowed by God with a maternal instinct to form someone for family life, whether it be for the human family or for the family of God. In fact, this func-tion is one that she is not free to side-step; she is not free to isolate herself or to make her life self-cente~ed. For she exists for humanity; she is at its very foundations, not so much to direct and govern it, but rather to give it birth and to direct its initial steps in the pursuit of the human race's common goal. Woman exists, moreover, as an inspiration for all to seek the things that are above; likewise she is a sign of what this higher life actually is. She was given to man as a~companion, a helpmate to enable him to attain the sub-lime end for which he had been destined. And when she realizes the potentiality that lies within herself, she acts as a focal point or as an exemplar for the human race. Hence in the present economy of our existence, the divine idea of a complete human nature as something that trans-cends all difference of sex is better translated by woman than by man,, not only because her beauty excels that of ÷ ÷ ÷ The S~ ~ the ~hurch VOLUME 20, 1961 ~. A. $cltleck, ~.~. . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 14 man, but also and especially because she presents an idea that is remarkable for the contraries which it unites-- somewhat as the activity of the Holy Spirit is presented to us in the Sequence for Pel~tecost, something like the ac-tivity of grace itself. For feminine nature presents us with an idea that is simple, yet very profound. She appears as one in whom we find a mingling of grace and gravity, of a smiling yet deep seriousness, of enjoyment and sacrifice, of song and silence, of purity and fecundity. It is in Mary' that we find the most perfect realization of this womanly' perfection. How the rest of womankind has realized this ideal and performed her role can be very readily seen by scanning the pages of history,, both sacred and profane; She has often led man away from God--she has often performed the role of the first Eve; and yet she has often led man back to his God---she has performed the role of the second Eve. Her influence ~has accompanied man. to near perfection, and it has also plunged him into an abyss of hate and despair. In fact, we can say that the destiny of man in his relationship with God depends to a great extent upon the silent directive force and power of wo-man, befit good or evil. Whether it be for good or evil de-pends very much upon her veil of mystery, her unassum-ing surrender to goodness and her willingness to share her time and her qualities with man in a spiritual or in a physical sense. Without her cooperative participation, the totality of human existence would become distorted and sterile. For her role in human existence will always be that of a bride, of a woman moving within the realm of man, not rejecting her veil which is a sign of her ac-ceptance, of her l~at mihi, not struggling to attain that which is properly man's, but surrendering her whole be-ing in an effort to make her contribution to the end result which is the unity of the human race with God. Like the Holy Spirit with whom she has a certain af-finity, woman is not only passive or receptive. She is com-municative, in fact, essentially communicative; and .like the person of love whom she represents, she tends to be-come dit~usive, 'to create or to prepare [or the members of the human family the best that this family contains in the depths of its own being--life, freshness, the poetry of love, fidelity, service, and care. It is only when woman actually lives or incarnates in her own life these characteristic marks of the Holy Spirit that she arrives at the fulfillment of her mission in crea-tion. And it is only in and through her arrival there that she attains that vision proper to wisdom, one that reaches from end to end seeing all things and judging all things according t° their proper place in the divine plan. It is only in the measure that she fulfills her role that she will be enabled to see the needs of souls, the needs of the Mys- tical Christ, and the destinies of the humffnfamily. For in proportion as her affective nature becomes more and more purified, she Will become more and more like to the person of the' Holy SpiriLwho, is personal love in the mystery of the Trlmty; and she-will be g,ven~that gift which is part and parcel of her vocation--wigdom and the divine vision which this implies. For as h~r'affections become purified, she learns~o .center herself and her life in God who will constantly infuse intd her a deeper love which is perfected by one 'of~His most precigm Sifts w~sdom. Thus we can say that'only in proportion as there grows in the woman the untarnished innocen~e~0f Mary the girl, will there also' grow in her the. deep compas-sionate gentleness and wisdom and.vision of Mary the mother, enabling her like Mary to cover the world with a silent and still co-redemption. Consequently, we can say that ~oman's vocation and mission is to imitate and continue partially at least and in a visible way the mission of the Holy Ghost--to mother the human race inits relatidnship with God by showing men that God isoa God of lov~ and that it is man's duty to find God not go much by r~ducing Him to our level of thought and limitatiofis, 'but rather/by going out of ourselves and in the" darkness Of a deep faith ~and trust, loving beyond what we see. M6reover, she was meant to be a perpetual sign to man of what the soul in the state of grace is--the bride of the L6rd. If this is the fundamental role of woman by her very nature, we should exPect that any furthervocation which she might be called upon"by God td exercise in the divine plan would not depart from this. Rather we would expect it to call her to a more perfect fulfillment of this funda-mental and basic role or vocation; for grace, as we hav~ so often heard, builds upon nature. It should come-as no surprise, then, that w~ should conceive of the religious vocation which lies at the very basis of the sister's way of life as a dall or an invitation from God much more than as an arbitrary decision on the 15art of a woman to enter the religious life. It is;' we might say, a special glance 'or grace which God Himself directs towards certain souls whereby He lifts thein from the realm of His common love and elevates them t6 that of His special love. We can say that if a woman goes out of the world in attempting to realize a religious vocatibn, she does not do so arbi-trarily; she does so onl~ in :response to an invitation by which God addresses her by'her first name, going beyond the common love which He shows otherg'and embracing her with His ~pecial love. A sister gods out of the world (and ~this is implied in the religious life) only became she has been given an-other task by almighty God/For she is given- to the Church The~ Sister in the Church VOLUME 20; 1961 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 16 and to mankind, not so much as a type or figure as we mentioned above, but rather as a sign in much the same way as the Holy Spirit was given to the world in His visible manifestation as a sign. And because she is given to the Church as a sign, her whole life must be, as it were, a kind of graphic picture or parable. For in her there was meant ~o become lifelike and instantly visible what in all others is usually kept secret and hidden. In her what is innermost in the Church of God is turned outward; and the City of God, which lies so concealed in others, becomes the town which is set upon the mountain--visi-ble for all to see. I am speaking, of course, of the life of man with God. It is this role which the sister constantly plays in the Church; we see it in the habi~ she wears, in the houses she lives in, the bearing which marks her per-son, and in the very disposition of her life. Her mission and vocation in the Church was meant to publish this truth: that this woman belongs entirely to God, that she lives only for Him and only with Him. This is, it seems, what the vocation of the religious sister was meant by God to signify; and the external marks which set it off from all other vocations (something like the plate of pure gold worn by the high priest of the Old Tes~tament) indi-cate immediately that the one belonging to this yay of life is set apart for the Lord. God knew that by reason of the fall the observance of the first and greatest commandment--to love God with one's whole heart and soul--would be most difficult to keep. For the mind of man, wounded by original sin, would tend to look downward; his heart would tend to become immersed in the things of time even though he be ordered to an eternal destiny. The sublime idea of union with God would be recalled and brought to birth in him only through what he saw or only through what he would in some way sense. God knew that if know.ledge would be had only through the instrumentality of the senses, through contact with visible things such as the spoken or the written word, then love would be recalled to man and begotten in him only t~hrough what he would in some way sense, only through some visible instrument; and in this case the love that would be recalled and be-gotten in him would be a share and participation in God's own love itself. It was for this reason that God instituted Christian virginity, and the Church ~gave this institution a very definite form in the religious life; *for the sister was to be a sign or a "sacrament," that is, a visible sign of an in-visible reality. It was one of the best possible ways of realizing and of answering the cry of the psalmist, "We no longer see the signs," which you have placed before us, Lord. While a sister is a sign of many things---of the fact that God exists, of the fact that He can touch a soul in a most intimate way, of the fact that He can ask a soul, or rather demand of 'it as it were~ 'to live for Hi~n ~lone-- still the sister is above all according to the divine~plan a sign of a yet greater mystery, 'For her mlssxon was set up by God to signify that He is love, that He is one who loves and can be loved. She was meant to indicate perpetually, not so much in her own individual person as in the insti-tution which she incarnates, that man is called to experi-ence God's personal love, that a human soul is called to be the bride of the Lord. This explanation is not just ~ sentimental, metaphor; it is something, which fias been constantly re-echoed in the literature of the Church--in the figure of the Church herself as the ,immaculate spouse of Christ, in the person of the bride of the Canticle of Canticles, in the figure of the chosen people as the Jerusalem or Sion of the Old Testament, in the.figure of Mary, and in the figure of the New Jerusalem who is said by St. John in the Apocalypse to be sent down from heaven by God all clothed like a bride who has adorned herself in readiness to meet her husband (Apoc 21:2). It is in fact rather clearly indicated there that the new Jerusalem is a figure of the Church and of the individual members of this Church, each of whom is called to be the bride of the bridegroom who is the Lamb (Apoc 21:9). There is, we might say, a common desire in the Church to see this heavenly Jerusalem or to catch some glimpse here on earth of the soul that is ready to enter into glory or who already participates in vision. In the sister that desire was to be fulfilled. For while it is true that the re-ligious profession taken together with the reception of both man and woman is essentially the same, a represen-tation of an eschatological state, nevertheless it is only in the case of tlie sister, because she is a woman, that one of the principal effects--the closest possible union with God---is brought out most strikingly and unmistakably. The man's consecration to God is considered to be a kind of second baptism, a ceremony in which his death to the world and his resurrection unto God is signified. But in the case of the woman, the ceremonies taken in their en-tirety form a kind of marriage rit~, a marriage in which she unites herself to the God-man as His bride. Conse-quently only the sister is able to signify in her very being and. person the marriage of the Christian with God, be-cause only she cfin be by nature a bride. The veil and, in some cases, the ring that she receives at the time of her profession were meant to be a perpetual reminder both to herself and the world that there is another world of r.eality that lies far beyond the surface vision which takes up the thoughts and the attention of the majority of men. 4- + The Sister in the Church VOLUME 20, 1961 17 ÷ ÷ ~,. A. $chleck, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18 The excellence of this marriage over that of the sacra-ment lies in the immediacy of the union with Christ the God-man as well as in the permanence of the bond that is established at that time. For we kno~ that in the re-ligious profession a woman unites herself' immediately to Christ, whereas in Christian marriage, She unites herself only. mediately to Him, through the intermediary of a human creature who represents Christ for her. The bond of the religious profession, moreover, is not dissolved at death; rather it is 'one that realizes its full meaning and significance not here on earth but only'in eternity since it is the reward of virgins alone tO follow, the Lamb whithersoever He goes in the everlasting hills. It is in this way that a sister is a visible and constant symbol to the world of the sublime privilege and destiny which rests upon all human souls--to be a bride in search of the bridegroom. Sublime though this role of the sister is, there is yet another one which is not merely attached to this destiny of being a bride of Christ, but is its natural outcome. We know that in and through human marriage the bride as-sumes the interests 'and the concerns of the ~bridegroom. Consequently, in the marriage signified by the'religious reception and profession of the sister, she assumes the in-terests and concerns of eternal love, of God who is infinite love. Thus her love is not only not annihilated by her profession, but it is given new life and becomes much more dynamic and extensive than that which is had be-tween two persons united to each other through Christian marriage. It is meant to assume the status arid proportions' of the love of the God-man Himself. If the bride reflects the interests and the concerns of the bridegroom, she does so in a very definite way in accordance with her own na-ture. Since this nature is feminine, she rel~resents God as love and she reflects the concern of God for souls in a ma-ternal way. in fact, we can say that the maternal office or role for which she is created is not only not annihilated in her profession but is brought to its highest and most perfect fulfillment because she exercises it over a greater number of souls and with respec~t to the highest life that can be given to a creature, a share in the life of God Him-self. This is as it should be. For a natural desire, one that is implanted in a creature by God Himself, must be capa-ble of being ftilfilled and must be fulfilled in some way or other if that creature is to realize its highest possible perfection. In calling the sister ~o her vocation, the highest voca-tion to which a woman could aspire in the Church, God will not--I think that "we can say can not---destroy this aspiration which lies deep in the very make-up of every woman. Rather He will bring it--He must bring it--pro- vided there is no'obstacle on her part--to its fullest and most perfect realization. To be pure and untouched~oand wholly consecrated to God and yet to have the heart and soul of.a mother is the unique wonder of Mary; and,it is also at the very heart and m);s'te~ 0f the sister's ,~6cation. It is a grace which is given to her initially in the grace of vocation itself, in much the same way as the fruit of the tree is given already in the very seed of the tree. And that grace will die or grow in the sister in the same measure or proportion as the grace of vocation dies or grows in her heart. It is of this also that a sister is a continuing sign or symbol to the world---that only a virgin motherhood is' compatible with~ a~_divine motherhood, that is, one that has as the whole purpose of its existence to lift up the souls of its children to :God, Just as Mary became filled with,grace and,superabundant 'in it, so to9 the sister is called to something similar--to be filled ~with grace but in such a way that she not only receives it but commtini-cates ,and diffuses it' to others as .a mother communicates and diffuses life to her children. Consequently, the.phrase which the Church in her liturgy.applies to Mary can also be applied in a certain sense to her: "And ~having the honor of virginity, you have also the joyof'motherhood," I think that it is true to say ,that only this understand-ing and presentation of the sister's, role in .the Church will make it more meaningful for her and restore it to its rightful place of: excellence~among the ways of life that lie"open to the faithful. For unless there is ~a deep faith and conviction in her marriage with Christ and in her spiritual motherhood, ~ the deeper motivating forces of, her vocation c~)uld easily remain somewhat obscured"and the consequent fruit of her apostolate diminished. And unless the missiofi' of the sister is presented to all the faithful during the years of their academic training and instruction,.espeCially in high schools and colleges, not by means of a ~¢il~d of "fly,by~nigh~" program but by one that openly juxtaposes it to marriage and presents it in all of its fullness, with its beauty, excellence, and joys, to-gether with its peculiar trials and difficulties, the question Ut quid perditio haec? spoken of above.will remain in the minds of a great many of the faithful and continue to ;. serve' as a parent,al objection to the very vocation itself: For all the attractiveness and beauty which this picture of the sister's mission in the Church might present, there° is one warning that might be voiced before c6ncluding, a-warning which becomes ever more necessary as the prog-ress of our technical civilization moves on with the.speed of an object drawn by the pull of gravity.And that is that 'the sister as well as the institution which she incar-nates must not fail to hold up the mystery of the cross-- in schools, in vocation literature, and above all in ,the The Sister in the C~hurch VOEUME 2~ 1961 19 4. + C. A. Schleck, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 20 actual living of the religious life itself. The presence of this sign of contradiction, its mystery, its sorrow and its joy, must always be the very basis of her way of life. For the essence of the religious life is "to go out from the world." Consequently, the religious sister is to bear in mind that here on earth she is called upon to fulfill the obligations of a bride and .a mother. The privileges and the rewards that shall be hers--that of "following the Lamb whithersoever He goes" and that of ~eeing "her sons coming from afar off and her daughters rising up at her side" (see Apoc 14:4; Is 60:3 ff.)--are reserved for eternity: These will be hers only if she has understood and accepted at the very outset of her religious life and has observed ever more faithfully during it the injunction of St. Ambrose: "The root and the flower of virginity is a crucified life.". It is this life, together with all that it implies in the case of the woman--silence and stillness and hiddenness especially--that is necessary not only for this vision to remain throughout her life but also for it to grow and to reach to new extensions and heights so that all the various lights and shadows of its beauty might appear in all their fullness, richness, and splendor. Such a vision of the "Word breathing forth love" as St. Thomas says (Summa tkeologiae, .1, 43, 5, ad 2), can be purchased only where there is lived and practiced prayer and disci-pline. These requirements have today made the vocation of the religious sister especially difficult. For the growing demands of her apostolate in the world along with the almost imperceptible infiltrations of elements foreign to her. vocation which such an apostolate often implies, could easily diminish and even destroy the possibility of retaining and developing this vision. If she remains faith-ful, however, to a constant and personal practice of these requirements, she will enable herself to fulfill her two-fold role, that of being a virgin in search of Christ and that of being a mother in whose conceptions no sin is passed on to the offspring, but only grace, only a share in the life of God Himself. Like freshly fallen snow on a mountain she will lift her gaze.only to God; and yet under the heat of the sun (which stands for the activity of'the Holy Spirit) she will melt and give life-giving water to those who dwell in the fields and valleys below. And he who drinks of this water shall never thirst, but it will become to him "a fountain of living water springing up unto life everlasting" (Jn 4:14). In conclusion we might sum up very briefly what we have attempted to give in these few pages. A religious sister leaves the world to become a sign or symbol, repre-senting God to men and men before God. For God loves humanity in her person, and in her person humanity gives its loving answer back to God. This, I think, is the mission given to the sister both by God and by the Church. When she returns to the world in the exercise of her apostolate, regardless of what this might be, she does so primarily as a sxgn, a symbol of the pasclial mysterxes, of tiuman na-ture's death to sin and resurrection unto God. In her case, this resurrection will be not so much unto light and knowledge as unto love. We know, that no apostolate, no vocation has any real meaning except in some relation to communication of life through light or through love. In the case of the religious sister it is in ke~eping with her very nature that the communication be more often predominantly through love; and even when it is through light, through the instruction of youth, it will be a spread-ing of vision in and through the warmth of love. Therein lies the "poetry" or the sacramental meaning and the divine design for the sister's mission, a mission whose fullness and richness and meaning must be made known to the world today; for it presents the solution to the needs of our day a constantly deeper interiorisation of doctrine and life, a flowering of the contemplative spirit, and an intense outpouring of charity and love. It is true that the world of today needs a rational theology; yet before it can become capable of this theology, it needs the vision which lies behind it, the vision wfiich made the very Summa of Aquinas seem like so much straw--the vision of eternal light that loves and is love. This role, this mission, this need for the presence of the sister in the Church has been very well indicated by a passage from one of the works of St. John of the Cross: 0 Lamps of fire, in whose resplendent light the deepest caverns where the senses meet,- erst steeped in dark-ness dire, Blaze with new glories bright, and to the lov'd one give both light and heat. Living Flame of Love, Stanza 3 This is the work of the Spirit and it is also the mission of the sister in the Church. And so in the end we come back to the beginning. The sister's apostolate or primary mission is very much like that of the Holy S15irit with whom she has a very definite affinity--to diffuse within the souls of men the gift of created love which is the com-mon bond uniting us with God and with each other in the friendship of divine charity or in the community of love which is the Church. If the sister fulfills tfi~t mission, on the day of her entrance into eternity she will merit to hear the words which the Prophet addressed to the new Jerusalem many centuries ago: "Arise, O Jerusalem, and stand on high, and behold the joy that comes to thee from thy God" (Bar 4:36; 5:5). 4- 4- The Sister in,- the Church VOLUME 20,, 1961 JEAN GALOT, S.J. Thanksgiving After Holy Communion, + ÷ + The Reverend Jean Galot, S.J. is Professor of Dogmatic Theology at Coll~ge Saint-Albert, Eegenhoven - Louvain, Belgium. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 22 In recent years it seems that some observers have no-ticed a decline in personal thanksgiving after Holy Com-munion. 1 The liturgical too;cement would seem to have led some of the faithful, including priests, to neglect any prayer which is not official, liturgical prayer, or prayer with a community flavor. On the other hand; the publi-cation b~y Father Karl Rahner of two articles on the theo-logical justification for thanksgivings gives us an oppor-tunity to reconsider this aspect of Holy Communion. We would like to do this not only from the standpoint Of prac-tice, but also doctrinally. Firstly, we shall ask what connection there is between thanksgiving and the Mass. In particular, is it correct to say that thanksgiving has only minor importance because Mass is it.self essentially a thanksgiving? Then we shall look at the reason usually given for making a thanksgiv-ing; namely, the continuation of the real presence of Christ in the communicant. But is this, in fact, the chief justification for the practice? Finally, there are some conclusions about the length of the thanksgiving and the manner of making it. Having a better understanding of Holy Communion and of its effects in us will lead us to see the attitude it requires of the communicant. By t~he end of this study it is hoped that the great im-portance of the matter in all religious formation will be ,apparent. This is the year of the Eucharistic Congress which has as its theme "Pro mundi vita" [For the life of the world], and it is also the fiftieth anniversary of St. Plus X's decree on the Communion of small children. It would be rewarding were the thoughts here outlined to contribute in any way to a fresh development Of Eucharis-, uc p~ety. . x This article originall~ appeared in Revue des Communautds Re. ligieuses, 32 (1960), 73-86. The translation is by Rev. D. Brigstocke, s.J. *"Danksagung nach der hl. Messe," Geist und Leben, 32 (1959), 180-89, 442-48. Thanksgiving Completes Our Participation in the Mass It is very t~ue that the whole Mass is a thanksgiving. The expression Eucharist~.makeS this clear. The word was applied by the primitive Church to the sacr~iment which Jesus instituted at the Last Supper; and the reason may be found in St. Luke and St, Paul: when He consecrated the bread, Christ "gave thanks" .(Lk 22:19; 1 Cot 11:24). It is the attitude which distinguished Christ at this capi-tal moment that has given its name~ to the sacrament. In memory of. Christ His '~disciples have likewise "given thanks" to God by repeating the gesture of consecration,3 ~How is this characteristic attitude to be interpreted? To give thanks is to thank God and to adopt the disposi-tions ofsomeone who has received everything from Him, and is glad to offer Him everything in return. At the moment of the Last Supper, Christ wished, to proclaim that He held everything from the: Father, hnd at,the same time He wanted to make a complete offering of Himself to the Father in a way .which would for ever perpetuate His oblation on Calvary. By this, thanksgiving, which is intended to be an act of total homage to the Father, the bread is blessed;~ it is consecrated because, being ,offered to God, henceforth it belongs to Him; it becomes the in-strument of divine blessings. The thanksgiving is an obla-tion, and the blessing of the bread is the sign of this obla-tion, its material symbol This is as much as to say that one must n6t have too restricted an idea of thanksgiving, confining it tO an outburst of gratitude alone. It signifies a return to God of what He has given to man. It is .a "Thank you" which is expressed by a profound offering of the self. If the Mass is to be called a thanksgiving, then it is within this very broad meaning of the word. Those who take part in the Mass have to acknowledge with. Christ that they h~ve received everything from the Father and that with Him they present to the Father all that has been bestowed upon them. They do this by uniting their offer-ing,' which should l~e as complete as possible, with that of the Savior, Does this mean to say that fervent.participation in,the Mass, with this attitude of thanksgiving, makes a thanks-giving after Holy Communion secondary or only slightly useful? We might notice that Father Rahner, while put-aFor the employment of the term Eucharist in the prim~itive Church an~d especially in St. Justin see P. Batiffol,'L'Eucharistie, la prdsence rdelle et la transsubstantiation, "l~tudes d'histoire et de th~o-logie positive," 2nd series; J.-A. ~Jungmann, Missarum Sollemnia, I, 45 ft. ~In St. Matthew (26:26) and St. Mark (14:,22) the equivalent of "having given thanks" is "havin~,g blessed." 4, Thankagiving Holy vo,.u~E ~o. ÷ ÷ ÷ ~ean Galot, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ting in the first place the thanksgiving constituted by the Mass itself, maintains that thanksgiving after Holy Com-munion means much and is truly recommendable. And if one thinks of the personal participation by the priest or the faithful in the Mass, with all that this sharing de-mands, it cannot be said that thanksgiving has only sec-ondary importance. For its role is to complete partici-pation in the Mass, and to ensure the full fruit of this participation. In fact, participation in the sacrifice of the Mass reaches its culmination in Communion. This is the sacrificial meal. Certainly the sacrifice has its value on its own. Once the Consecration has taken place the essence of the sacri-fice has been accomplished, with its worth ex opere operato applied to the intentions for which the Mass is celebrated. But in the sacramental order the personal participation by the priest or faithful in the sacrifice of Christ remains essentially insufficient so long as it has not ended in Communion. This remains true, however fer-vent the will to unite oneself with the Offering and the Consecration.5 The object of Holy Communion is the full association in the Savior's sacrifice of those who are present at the sacramental renewal of this sacrifice. It unites them to Christ's offering in virtue of an efficacity ex opere operato different from that of the Consecration, and which completes the latter by acting in each com-municant individually. This sacramental efficacity may be explained in other terms by saying that here it is no longer the member of the faithful who tries simply to unite himself to the sacrifice of Jesus, albeit his efforts are sustained by grace; it is Jesus Himself coming to unite the Christian to His sacrifice. He comes to incorporate the individual with His sacrifice, and He does so by a divine power enabling the fa!thful to offer that which human weakness would have precluded. This sacramental incor-poration in the sacrifice may be translated in terms of thanksgiving: by Holy Communion Christ comes to in-corporate the faithful into His own supreme thanksgiving --a thanksgiving repeated at each Mass and which in-cludes the offering of His death. Christ associates the Christian with Himself, placing him in this situation of giving thanks. The sacramental efficacity of this incorporation, while it proceeds essentially from the divine strength of Christ, depends also upon the dispositions of the faithful. As with the rest of the sacraments, the effect ex opere operato of Holy Communion does not dispense the faithful from cooperating with grace. Christ gives Himself with His 5 Cf, the Council of Trent (DB 944) encouraging the faithful to sacramental communion at each Mass they attend. omnipotence, but the soul still has to open itself to Him and welcome Him. This attitude of welcome, this opening of the self and subjective fervor will have an influence upoh the fruits of Communibn. Here it is that we discern':the'i~nportance 6f'indi~,idual thanksgiving after Holy Communion. The Christian really has to "receive, Christ in such a way as to allow Christ to incorporate Him fully into His own sacri,fice. In order to be able to receive Christ in this way, one has to pay attention to Him, try to show Him the sentiments of welcome that He deserves, .and make ohe's own the thanksgiving that Christ brings with Him. This can only be achieved in those moments~ of recollection When a cer-tain intimate dialogue occurs. The time of thanksgiving after Holy Communion is the moment when all that has happened at the altar enters deeply into the soul of the Christian in order to transform it. At this moment the communicant yields himself to that immense giving of thanks which was the theme of the Savior's sacrifice. He commits himself personally to this thanksgiving by allowing Christ to penetrate to his. fur-thest depths, and by devoting all his powers as a man, his ability to reflect and to will, to the work of extending the Savior's reach within him. Thus, thanksgiving after Holy Communion is not a simple movement of personal piety which just happens to be added to a liturgical action in itself fully sufficient. It~is not a complement, with value only secondary. It is the reception and welcome of the liturgical and sacramental action, a welcome without which this liturgical action could not produce in the com-municant that which one has a right to expect. True--the thanksgiving is individual. It has to be, because it signi-fies a personal welcome given to the coming of Christ, and it has all the more worth in proportion as the depths of the personality are engaged. But this individual com-plement is claimed by Holy Communion and therefore by the liturgical action of the community which is the Mass. Besides, while remaining an act of the individual, the thanksgiving allows the member of the faithful to rise to a higher le~,el of community charity. It does this pre-cisely because in Holy Communion the Christian wel-comes to himself the love of Christ. . There is, therefore, no reason for neglecting thanks-giving after Holy Communion, or for holding that it is an act of private piety which we may omit at will. On the contrary, it is the ordinary completion of 'the Mass. Its importan.ce is not less for not being found among the prayers that the priest recites officially. By its very essence the thanksgiving has to be something intimate,~ a reaching-out and utterance of the soul; and as such it gua,rantees the full effect of the Mass in each of the faithful. + Thanksgiving A.~e~ Holy Commumon VOLUME 20, 1961 ~e~ ~, sJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Thanksgiving and the Real Presence of Christ For some time after Communion the sacramental pres-ence o£ the bod~ o£ Christ remains in us.~ It is difficUlt to decide the exact duration o£ this presence, but it does not cease be£ore the dissolution o~ the species. Accord.oing to some medical opinion, a small host in a healthy stom-ach does not corrupt before haft an hour.7 On the other hand, it is even more 'important to notice that this bodily presence o~ Christ in the communicant is given essentially £or a spiritual action, and more speCially £or a spiritual presence o~ Christ in u~. For Christ comes to nourish us spiritually. Father Rahner has good reason £or insisting upon the spiritual pregen.ce o~ Christ that Holy Communion produces. Thinking o~ the Eucharist, St. Paul Spoke about "spirit-ual food" and "spiritual drink" (1 Cor 10:3-4). He un-derstood the efficacity o£ the Eucharist as being o£ the spiritual order because, to speak more precisely, this effi-cacity was due to the Holy Spirit: "in 6ne Spirit we have all been made to drink" (1 Cor 12:13). According to these views, it is not the Bgdy or the Blood of Christ, as such, in their simple material reality, which operates in the communicant, but the Holy Ghost whom they bear. St. Paul was ectioing Christ's teaching. In the l~romise o~ the sacrament a's St. John recounts it, the Master had under-lined the spiritual nature o~ the etticacity of the Eucharist: "Only the spirit gives li£e; the flesh :is of no avail" (Jn 6:63). By itseff the flesh would be powerless to exert any sanctifying activity; it is only through the Spir!t that it can act in this way. In order to better understand the connection which exists between the Eucharistic body and the Holy Ghost, we should recall that the Body present in the Eucharist is the glorifie.~d Body o[_.the Savior. It is His risen Body. It is true that th.is Body is giv~en to us in a ~sacrifice. But the sacrifice, While it renews the offering of Calvary, renews too the completion of this offering and' its acceptance by the Father: :that is to~ say, the glorification o~ Jesus. That is why the Mass omme'mbrates not only the Passion~ but . e Father Rahner has put £orward a new theory~ according to which 'the real presence would cease [xom the moment of communicating, because from that instant the species of bread can no longer be con-sidered as food, being .no longer eatable. According to him there would begat this moment the equivale.nt of corruption of sp.ecies'. In' principle, however, tradition considers that physical corruption of ~ ¯ the species must occur before the real presence ~ceases. One might!! also add that the species of bread do. continue to be a nourishment' I even ~fte'r actual manducation, and so they remain the sign 6f the I real presence. Therefore the presence of the Body of Christ certainly I persists after the ~ctual°moment of communicating. ~ C~. Cardinal Gasparri, Tract. canonicus de Sanctissima Eucha- I ristia, (1897), n. 1194~ also the Resurrection and Ascension. Without the Resur-rection and the Ascension the sacrifice would be neither perfect nor consummated. Therefore, at the moment-of consecration it is the risen Body of Christ that becbmes present on the altar, and\in,.Holy Commufii61i~,iit is this risen Body which the faithful receive. Now the charac-teristic feature of the glorified humahity of Christ is that of being filled with the Holy Spirit,.and of b.eing able to transmit and communicate thissame Spirit.,At the Resur-rection the Body of Christ was tr~a~stormed and spirit-ualized by the Spirit. So it is that St. Paul considers the risen Christ as He who possesses the Hgly Spirit, and who bestows Him for our sanctification,s "The last Adam was made into a quickening spirit" 0 Cor" 15:45). This Pauline teaching is based on the testimony of the Gospel itself, which shows us in the risen Chyist Him who says.to His apostles, "Receive ye the Holy Ghost" (Jn 20:22), and above fill Him who sends, the Ho.ly Spirit to all the disciples on the day of Pentecost (Lk .24;49; cf. Act The reception of the glorious flesh of Christ in the body of the communicant produces as a consequence a general pervasion by the Holy Spirit. Before all let us notice that the Holy Ghost does not veil the presence-of Chr!st, as though He were an intermediary acting as a screen. On the contrary, He causes the ~piritual diffusion of this p~es-ence; it is He who causes the action and love of the Savior to penetrate the soul. It is through Him that the presence of Christ gr6ws deeper and more intimate. It is this spiritual action of the bodily presence of the Savior in the communicant that demands the latter's cooperation if that action is to be exercised fully. It fol-lows that this spiritual action requires the most fervent thanksgiving possible. We are now in a position to define more exactly the role of thanksgiving. For our part, i.t is the welcome to the bodily presence of Jesus as a presence which acts in a spiritual manner and thus penetrates the soul. It is, be-sides, traditional to think of thanksgiving along these lines: the Christian who has just communicated addresses himself to Christ present in his heart, Christ who. has reached and penetrated into his very soul. The communi-cant desires to make some answer to this spiritual pres-ence. This concentration of attention upon the spiritual presence of Christ should not lead to the conclusion that the bodily presence is without importance. The spiritual presence is bound up with the bodily presence:. ,we have recalled that it is the glorious Body of Christ that is the s Cf. F. X. Durrwell, La Rdsurrection de ]dsus, myst~re de salut, (Paris: 1949), pp.,196-23. 4- 4- 4- Thanksgiving Alter ltoly Communion VOI~UME 20, :1961 ÷ ÷ ÷ lean Galot, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 28 bearer of the Spirit. In th6 rest of the Sacraments there is an action by the Holy Spirit, together with an infusion of grace; the Eucharist is the only sacrament wherein we receive not only grace, but the author of grace. In it we receive the spiritual presence of Jesus after a fashion that ig quite exceptional, arising from the fact that this pres-ence is the immediate result of the presence of His Body within us. It is this bodily presence which guarantees the spiritual presence at its highest pitch, together with spiritual nourishment, Thanksgiving after Holy Com-munion has as its object the spiritual assimilation of the presence of Christ. The Duration of Thanksgiving According to what principle should we determine the lengt.h of thanksgiving? Father Viller writes, "It is nor-mal for it to last as long as the Eucharistic presence of our Lord remains in us.''9 But it is quite legitimate to enquire with Father Rahner whether this criterion is fully justified. To begin with, certain inconveniences arise when we seek to measure the duration of the thanksgiving by the duration 'of Christ's bodily presence in the com-municant. If, as Cardinal Gasparri states on medical evi-dence, a small host remains in the stomach for not less than half an hour, and a large one for an hour, then this p~i~sistence of the species will in any case require a very long thanksgiving. Besides, were this criterion to be adopted, it would be for doctors and biologists to decide upon the length of the thanksgiving. In addition to this, such a criterion does not appear to be founded on the true nature of the thanksgiving. The proper object of the latter is not the reception of the Body of Christ in the stomach, but the reception of the total Christ by the soul. We are not dealing with an assimilation by the body of the Body of Christ, but with a reception and assimilation "of His spiritual presence. We have tried to stress that the bodily presence of Christ is designed to give us His spiri-trial presence more comp.letely and immediately. Since the role of the thanksgiving is to open the heart or the soul to this spiritual presence of the Savior, its duration should be measured by the amount of time nor-mally needed if such'a welcome is to occur. It should be long enough to allow the person of Christ to exercise His action in the soul of the communicant and to fill it with His life in the measure that He Himself wishes. What 'must take place is a penetration of our intelligence and will and sentiments by this presence, and there must also be a personal effort to achieve this intimate relationship with Christ. No absolute norm can be given for achieving Communion (pratique), in Dictionnaire de Spiritualitd, II, 1282. this, simply because one has to take into account the sub-jective dispositions of each individual. But in general spiritual writers think that about a quarter of an hour is good measure for most. This isJong enough to ach,,ieve the degree of recollection whi~li ig n~ssary if profound con, tact is to be made. with the person of the Savior, and if the depths of the soul are really to be opened to Him. Certainly it would be arbitrary to declare that the last prayers of the Mass are a sufficient thanksgiving after Holy Communion, and that once the litUrgical action has been completed there is no need to prolong the prayer which should act as an echo to the.sacrament just received. On the contrary, itmay be said in general that the mere fact of following the prayers 6f the priest up to the ending of Mass is not sufficient to afford Christ th~ intimate and personal welcome which His Eucharistic. presence asks of us. It is to be regretted that there are those.who syste, m~tically favor the departure of the faithful as~.soon as Mass h~s ended. If there are many lives in wl~ich frequent reception of Holy Communion fails to produce the fruit that might be expected, may this not be because the welcome offered tq the Eucharistic Christ is not fervent enough, and because the thanksgiving which should lie the surge of a° personal. love is too brief and superficial? It has already been no-ticed that sacramental efficacity ex opere operato requires man's cooperation if it is to have its full effect. Father Rahner writes that this efficacity eX opere ope-rato cannot be increased by the thanksgiving, and that it simply depends upon the disposition of the soul at the moment of Communion. He adds that if this disposition exists it will in fact be manifested by a meditative and recollected thanksgiving,xo But if it is true that strictly speaking the thanksgiving does not augment the efficacity ex opere operato, it does none the less allow th.is effic~city to be. exercised in the fullest measure desirable. It is not only at the precise moment of communicating that 'the bodily presence of Christ produces its spiritual action. This is continued later. It will be fully efficacious to the degree that the soul yields itself to it in thanksgiving, attempting to respond by faith and love. The length of the thanksgiving does influence the efficacity of the sacra-ment, seeing that normally a certain time is called for if a welcome is to be considered fervent. It is therefore un-derstandable that the Church should recommend a thanksgiving which goes on after the Mass has ended. In this connection it is worth citing from Mediator Dei. As this encyclical is expressly concerned with the liturgy, it ~o Rahner op. cir., pp. 186-87. ÷ + + Thanksgiving A~ter Holy o~munio~ VOLUME 20, 1961 29 ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 30 is particularly noteworthy that it should stress the per-sonfil thanksgiv.ing d~manded by the liturgy. When the Mass, which is subject to special rules of the liturgy, is over, ~the person who has received Holy Communion is not thereby freed from his duty of thanksgiving; rather; it is most becoming that, when the' Mass is finished, the person who has received the Eucharist should recollect himseif, and in intimate union with the divine Master hold loving and fruitful converse with Him. Hence they have departed from the straight way of truth: who, adhering to the letter rather than the sense,~assert and teach that, when Mass has ended, no such thanksgiving should be added, not only because the Mass is itself a thanks-giving, 'but also because this pertains to a private and personal act of piety and not to thegood of the community. But, on the contrary, the very .nature of the sacrament de-mands that its reception should produce rich fruits of Christian sanctity. Admittedly~the congregation has been officially dis-missed, but each individual, Since he is united with Christ, should not interrupt the hymn of praise in his own soul, "al-ways returning thanks for all in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ to God the Father" (Eph 5: 20). The sacred liturgy of the Mass also exhorts us to do this when it bids us pray in these . words, "Grant, we beseech thee, that we may always continue to offer thanks" (Postcommunion, Sunday Within the Octave of Ascension) " .and may never cease from praising thee" (Postcommunion, First Sunday after Pentecost), Wherefore, if there i~"no time when we-must not offer God thanks, and if we must never cease from praising Him, who would dare to reprehend or find fault with the Church, because she advises her priests (canon 810) and faithful to converse with the divine Redeemer for at least a~ short while after Holy Communion, and inserts in her liturgical books, fitting, prayers, enriched with indulgences, by which the sacred mlmsters may make suitable preparati6n before Mass and Holy Communion or may return thanks afterwards? So far is the sacred liturgy from re-stricting the interior devotion of individual Christians, that it actfiaily fosters and promotes it so that they may be rendered like to Jesus Christ and through Him be brought to the heavenly Father; wherefore this same discipline of the liturgy demands that whoever has partaken of thd sacrifice of the altar should return fitting thanks to God. For it is the good pleasure of the di;gin~ Redeemer to hearken to us when we pray, to converse witfi us intimately and to offer us a refuge in His loVing Heart. Moreover, such personal colloquies are very necessary that we may all enjoy more fully, the supernatural treasures that are contained in the Eucharist and, according to our means, share them with others, so that Christ our Lord may exert the greatest possible influence ofi the' souls of all. Why then, Venerable Brethren, should we not approve of those who, when they receive Ho!y Communion,~ remain on in clbsest familiarity with' their divine Redeemer even after the congregation has been"officially dismissed, and that not only for~the consolation of conversing with Him, but also to render Him,due thanks and praise and especially to ask help to defend their souls against anything that may lessen the efficacy of the sacrament and to do everything in their power to cooperate with the action of Christ who is so intimately present. We exhort. them to do so in a special manner by carrying out their resolu-tions, by exercising the Christian virtues, as also by applying to their own necessities the riches they have received with royal liberality. The author of that golden book The Imitation of Christ certainly speaks in accordance with the letter and the spirit of the liturgy, when he gives the following advice to the person who approaches the altar, "Remain on in secret and take delight in your God; for He is yours whom the whole world cannot take away from you" (4 [12).Xffr," ~" ,~ The Manner o[ Making the Thanksgiving The very first principle is that of personal liberty. The same way cannot Be laid down for everyone, and there is no universal formula. Wffat is important above all is that in this meeting with Christ the soul should express itself personally. One cannot, then, lay it down as a hard and fast rule that the best way to make a thanksgiying is to follow the priest in the prayers he says towards the end of Mass. Besides, taken from the point of view of giving thanks, it must be admitted that in the Roi'han Rite these prayers are very brief and only slightly' d.eveloped. Cer-tainl); at Masses where the congregation sings or pub-licly recites the pray+rs, this activity will be shared by tl~0se who have communicated. They 16ave till later the completion of their thanksgiving in a thore personal man-ner. But where neither hymns nor'prayers are expected from the congregation, each communicant is free to fol-low his own taste. On the c;ther hand it is quite possible that an individual will need educating in the use Of thig liberty. An obvious example is that of children, and the same may be "true of a number of the'f~tithful. In orderto help their thanks-giving a prayer may be recited or an intention placed before them. Care should always be taken to introduce va,riety in order to avoid monotony and routine. But if there is great freedom in the loving converse that a thanks-giving should be, there are still certairi principles which should guide .the exercise of this liberty. We suggest, at any rate, two such principles. _Firstly, thanksgiving is the kind o.f prayer .which is par excellence directed towards the person of our Lord inti-mately present. Indeed, as we have noticed, the Eucharist is d!stinguished from the other sacraments by this gift of the personal presence of Christ. It follows that after Com-munion we should be concerned to develop all that brings our attention to bear upon the very person of the Savior. Before all else.~ this person claims our ad~oration. In renew-ing his faitfi'in the presence of God now bestowed upoh him so intimately, the communicant adores the Lord with his whole soul; and proclaims before the Infinite Being that he is a creature and utterly depend~nt. But as this in-finite being is now his guest, the com~nunicant tries to converse with Him familiarly. He c~mverses with Christ who is the identi(al'Christ of the Gospel, the Christ who The Cath~oiid Mind, 46 (June, 1948), 363--64. ÷ +- + Thanksgiving Alter Holy Communion VOLUME :~0, 1961 ÷ ÷ ÷ lean Galot, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 32 enjoyed being in the company of men. The thanksgiving is the privileged moment in this personal dialogue. On the other hand it is no less important to recall that the thanksgiving is indeed the prolongation of the Mass and its completion in the individual soul. In consequence .there should be an effort to develop the dispositions which unite the soul with those of Christ in His sacrifice. Be-fore we go on to mention these dispositions, a word should be said about the Mother of God. MaTy can bring great help to the soul in its effort to unite itself to Christ's sacri-fice, just as she aids in the effort towards union with 'His person. The Blessed Virgin remains the model of per-sonal welcome to the Savior's presence, as well as of an intimate sharing in the redemptive sacrifice. She has a mission to draw souls along this way. It will be particu-larly helpful to have recourse to her in order to ensure a genuinely fervent thanksgiving. Among the dispositions which associate us with Christ's sacrifice is gratitude, for it has given its name to the Eu-charist. We have to own that we owe all to God our Father, and we should thank Him accordingly. It is to Him that we owe in the first place the immense benefit of Com-munion itself, and the gift of the Savior's body. Then comes offering. Once we have owned that all is the Father's sift there is the wish to.°ffer Him all in re-turn. The total offering that Christ makes in the Mass entails a total offering by the communicant. Thus'Com-munion prepares the soul for the sacrifices of the day ahead those sacrifices 3vhich are the effective seal of what has been offered at Mass. If it is possible to foresee certain sacrifices, it may be desirable to offer them in advance during the thanksgiving; thus the Christian will be helped to accept them in the right spirit when they come, a spirit of intimate union with Christ and the love which was carried to love's extreme limit. Thanksgiving gives the soul the opportuniiyto adopt an ideal attitude of gener-osity Which it will ~try to maintain when the difficult mo-ments do in fact arise. We should also-mention confidence and joy. Christ present in the soul is the glorious Christ, and his sacrifice was consummated in the triumph of the Resurrection. The thanksgiving should strengthen confidence in the victory the Savior h~is won, both in Himself and in others, and in such a way that the communicant is able to face more firmly obstacles to his personaFreligious life and apostolate. There should also be a renewal of spiritual joy. Coming from Communion the Christian should have a heart filled with enthusiasm and be manifestly happy, for he has just welcomed the triumphant Christ. Neither should prayer of petition be forgotten. The sacrifice of the Mass is celebrated in order to spread divine graces more abundantly upon men. The communicant ought to unite himself with the salvific will of God which, in Christ, inspires sacrifice. With the Savior he should de-sire the expansion and progress of His Kingdom; he will become more and more one. w~th the intima~t,e~desires of Christ in proportion as he makes his own the great inten-tions of the Church and asks for their fulfillment. At the same time the communicant entrusts his own private in-tentions to Christ, intentions that represent his own share of responsibility in the advancement of the Kingdom. He will take advantage of the Savior's presence in order to express his desires and hopes and to obtain their satisfac-tion. Finally, among those dispositions which we may expect the thanksgiving to develop is fraternal charity, that love of one's neighbor of which Christ's sacrifice is the perfect and extreme form. Ever since St. Paul the Church has loqked upon Holy Communion as the most powerful sac-ramental bond linking Christians, the artificer par excel-lence of the unity of the Mystical Body. Thanksgiving should contribute to the flowering of charity, both of that direct charity which concerns the people with whom daily life brings, us into contact, as well as 6f that more ample charity which goes out to the furthermost confines of the whole Mystical Body, and which is marked by a special goodwill towards our separated brethren. Such, then, are the essential dispositions which thanks-giving should develop. One could add others, or further stress certain aspects of those which we have mentioned. With Father Rahner we say .that all that is really pious may find its place in the thanksgiving, all that touches the heart of the communicant, his cares and his intentions. For the point is that thanksgiving may be seen as a kind of r~sum~ of Christian piety, of which it is the richest and most complete moment. In thanksgiving participa-tion in the sacrifice of the Mass~ reaches its peak, just as does union with the Savior's person. All the diverse, inti-mate attitudes of a man before God may therefore here be manifested in the deepest and most concrete fashion, with a most sincere personal impulse. Thanksgiving A]t~r Holy ommunion VOLUME 20, .1961 I~MILE BERGH, S.J. The Communicant's Our Father ÷ ÷ + The Reverend ~mile Bergh, S.J. is editor of Revue des Commu-naut~ s Religieuses and Professor of Canon Law at Coll~ge Saint-Albert, Eegenhoven - Louvain, Belgium. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 34 The Lord's Prayer expresses perfectly the-dispositions which should be found in the Christian who participates integrally in the H01y Sacrifice by sacramental Com-munion. It is certainly proper to think that at the mo-ment when our Lord actualizes in us in a special way His work~of salvation, He teaches us by His Spirit the prayer of redeemed sons. Le~ us then respond to this grace. Father! We are to call You by this name because Your Son, present in us, communicates to us His" divine life. May His Spirit make us taste Your paternal love. Our Father! We all form but one body, we who h~ive partaken of the same bread. In Christ we encounter all of Your sons. We will be always more brotherly toward them. We pray to You especially for our brothers, sep- "arated Christians, that they may participate ih our Eu, charist in the only Church of Christ. Who art in heaven! We believe firml~ that we have re-ceived the bread come down from heaven. Grant, our Father, that we may live close to You in spirit in the so-ciety of~the angels and saintS. Hallowed be thy name! The Eucharistic offering gives You perfect glory. YoUr holiness, Your power, Your love, all Youi attributes proclaim themselves in this mystery. W~ Unite our adoration to the Holy, holy, holy of the angels. We render You all honor and glory through Your beloved Son. Thy Kingdom come! Grant that from the rising of the sun to the going down thereof all people will offer this purest sacrifice to You, so that the entire universe may submit to the sweet yoke of the Lord Jesus. May His reign of truth and of life, of holiness and grace, of justice, of love, and peace extend itself by means of the Eucharist to all nations. Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven! To receive communion is to participate in the obedience of Your Son. In everything He has done that which was pleasing to You. We give ourselves over to His will as He has given himself over to Yours for us. Make us, by the Spirit of Jesus, faithful and loving, patient and resigned. So 'the world will believe that You are Love, and the fiat of ~he earth.will echo the Amen i~f heaven. ~ . ~ Give us thi~ day 9ur daily bread! After the gift ~which You have just given us, the bread of eternal-life, can we doubt for a moment your Providence and not wait to re-ceive from it all the help for which our misery has need? Give us each day the bread of heaven. Give it to us in our last hour. Give it to all suffering humanity, for it is the guarantee of eternal happiness. Forgive us our. trespasses! By the ~mystery of the Re-demption, ~,hic.h has just renewed itself.,~f~ "us, by the power of the Body~and the Blood of Jesus, our Savior, purify us of our faults; give us deep contrition for them, pen~etrated with love and~fihal confidence. .~ As we forgive those who trespass against us! On the altar as at Calvary You pardon Your enemies. You have desired that we should reconcile ourselves Witti one another be-fore presenting our offering. Teach~ us to imitate You~ mercy w.hmh ng~ther judges ngr condemns, but pardons without tiring. By the charity which we draw from the Heart of Your Son may we be everywhere and always artisans of peace and union. Lead us not into tempthtion! We-ha~e been made mem-bers of Your Divine Son. Do not l~t us profane His most holy Body. We ate threatened on eve~ sid6,.,f0'r w'e are feeble and inconstant, imprudent and (owardl~. Welean solely on His strength and His 'love. YoUr S6.n could not be very powerful, were He unable to support U.S from one day to the next. But deliver us from evil! For one who has understood what Communion i~, tl~ere is but one evil" on earth: to lose or allow to grow cold by s~in the friendship of God. Deliver us from sin and fronl everythin~g-which leads to sin. Deliver poor. sinners fr6m their slavery.~ Amen! It is Your love which, after halving invented the marvels of the Incarnation" and the Redemption,. has crowned their magnificence with the ~ystery of the Eu-charist. We believe in-and w~ will always believe even more in Your charity. The Communicant's Our Father VOLUME 20, 1961~ MICHAEL NOVAK Saint East and West ÷ ÷ ÷ Mr. Michael Novak, a well known writer on various subjects, is cur-rently studying for a graduate degree in ~unhiivleorssoitpyh.y at Harvard REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS In these days of the re-unifying of East and West, the great John Chrysostom stands as a long-ago figure to whom both sides already turn with reverence and love. The Bishop John (3't47-~07) won the hearts of his people so wholly by his gifts of spirit and of tongue that they could not refrain from calling him as by a proper name: John of the Mouth of Gold. The saint and bishop is a crucial figure for the understanding of the meaning of the East. For he was Bishop of Constantinople in the time in which it was beginning to exert its power as the new center of the East. At the time of Nicaea in Byzantium was still inconsiderable. To the cultured world, it meant little save as the recent choice of Con-stantine for his eastern headquaiters. To the Church, it was again inconsiderable, compared to the great sees of An tioch and Alexandria which, with Rome, formed the triangle of influence in the first three centuries of Chris-tianity. But by ~81, at the second ecumenical council, Constantinople had squared the triangle by becoming the third great patriarchate of the East, and had in fact shouldered out her Eastern rivals to take second rank to Rome alone. Rome and Constantinople: two instead of four. The Emperors, of course, both of East~ and West, would be sympathetic to such centralization.' Magistrates and bishops, these were the focal points of leadership among the people (not as in our own day, when com-munications leaders, unions,, vocal professional classes, and so on, offer other focal points of leadership). To have the bishops aligned with the magistrates was then the simple key to unity and civil peace. To have one 'bishop in authority in each half of the Empire was to limit to two the locks in which to turn the key. In ~98, when St. John was raised to the patriarchal throne of Constan-tinople, the system was beginning to manifest what would be its classic workings. John Chrysostom had been ordained a priest and had been preaching at Antioch for a dozen years when he was kidnapped and borne away to Constantinople. He was kidnapped, so that neither he nor the people could . successfully protest--there was vigor and imagination to actualize cabinet decisions in those old days. How did John react to the outrage? There was no escaping the sit-uation. For the glory of God he set his hand to" the task with courage, then with joy: ., ~.' ~" Cardinal Newman's famous essay gives us perhaps the best image of this man Chrysostom, for whom the Car-dinal felt one of the most intimate ties among all the men of history. Why was John a great orator? Because he spoke in the measures of Cicero? to the public weal like Demosthenes? mystically like the ardent Origen? as a witness of the faith like Athanasius? s~,eepingly and cre-atively like the grei~t~Augtistine? humanly and commonly upon the Bible like the Antiocheans among whom he was trained? No, says Newman, he won the greatest ac-colade of any human orator because of his closeness to his people's heart. He spoke for them, adapted all his talent and his heart to their needs and characters. ~They crowded one another to hear him. He defended them. He loved them. Against those who plotted against him, the high in Church and Empire, the people were his strength: not at all because he was a demagogue, but be-cause he was a shepherd who knew his Own, whose own knew him. His greatest characteristic, the secret inner x~ord of his life, Cardinal Newman conceives, was his "intimate ~ym-pathy and compassionateness for the whole world,~ not only in its strength but in its weaknesses." His singular mark is "the interest he takes in all things, not so far as God has made them all alike, but as he has made them different from each other., the discriminating affection-ateness with which he accepts everyone for what is per-sonal in him and ianlike others., his versatile recogni-tion of men, one by one, for the sake of that portion of good, be it more or less, of a lower,order or a higher~ which has severally been lodged in them., the kindly spirit and-the genial temper with which he looks round at all things which this wonderful world contains." Out of such love, Chrysostom could approach his peo-ple with balm and sweetness evefi when ~he chastised. He hated and feared only sin; he was willing to die over and over for his people; he told them that. His own life was active and abstemious to infective measure. He did chas-tise; he made enemies. Impulsive and courageous both, he was not cautious with that talent of his: he spoke. The people loved him mightily for his courage and his single-ness. "His friends loved him with a love stronger than death, and more burning than hell; and it was well to be so hated, if he was so belovedT' When Theophilus, the Patriarch of Alexandria, enviously contrived with the of-fended Empress Eudoxia to exile John in 403, the first ÷ ÷ ÷ Saint ot East and West VOLUME 20, 1961 4. + 4. Michael Novak REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 38 exile, John could not be cautious even while his fate hung in the balance. He preached with great fervor to his people: "Christ is with me; what then have I to fear? . Already you are even more earnest than before. And when tomorrow you go out singing the litanies I shall be with you, for where you are, there also am I, and where I am there are you. Though separated in space we shall ever be one in spirit, for we form one body and it cannot be separated from its head . I am ready to give my life ten thousand times over for you . You have watched many days and nothing has moved you from your pur-pose. You have not been weakened by threats or by long-drawn- out waiting--you have done what I have always been w~anting you to do: set earthly things at naught, turned your backs on this world, risen above the slavery of the body. That is my crown, my consolation, my anoint-ing, my token of immortalityl" 1 Thus was John's union with his peop!e. His affection-ate heart poured out toward each of them, and they re-sponded. By a ruse, at the time of his second exile, he called for his riding mule at one side of the cathedral, then slipped out the other, lest the gathering crowds riot against the Imperial troops who led him off: John always thought of the people. In exile, too, on the far eastern shores of the Empire "in the loneliest spot on earth," John thought of them. He wrote them hundreds of letters, asking of their health, consoling, chiding, directing, beg-ging money for new missionary needs which he had come upon in his travels. John's first trait was compassion. His second was sanguinity: never have I had it so good, he writes shortly after he had nearly died, this frail man in his sixties, in toilsome travel; the cool air, the leisure, the care heaped on me have refreshed me. "My health was never better." His third characteristic was courage and impetuositymtogether with his goodness, these brought him to his exile and his martyrdom. To understand the malice and passion that could have moved Christians to send so good a shepherd to exile and to death, we must reflect on many aspects of the Chris-tianity and of~ the world in John's time. The peoples around the blue Mediterranean were now Christians only three hundred years or, much more accurately, only for two or three generations. The perfection of holiness, the expression in manners and institutions of the love and justice of the Lord, had hardly had time to be explored even mentally, f.ar less sink deeply by habit into the tissue and fibre of society. Elementary passions were fierce. Ways and means were direct. Monks--those whom Christianity might be suppo.sed most thoroughly to have transformed 1 Donald Attwater, St. John Chrysostom: The Voice of Gold (Mil-waukee: Bruce Publishing Company, 1939), p. 126. II were known in several places to have torn enemies limb from limb with bare hands; their riots at Alexandria were a terror. The soldiers guarding Chrysostom at Caesarea risked murder and enslavement at the hands of Isaurian barbarians rather than face the mob of monks "Who de-manded that Chrysostom leave the' city. As f6~ tl~*hier-archy, Chrysostom-said he feared nothing as he feared the Bishops. Treachery that led to flogging, tearing with hooks, burning with torches as happened to one of Chrysostom's deacons, a gentle youngster runs through the history of this time as bright scarlet and yellow thread. We must understand the wildness of the. times, and the fierceness of even tl~e next many. centuries, if we are to understand the play of human passion ;ind barbarity upon which Christianity is called to ~zork. Violeni" im-pulses, cruel machiriations, fierce self-int~rest, still rhn rampant in ourselves; but we must make an effort to re-call the times when society itself more directly expressed thes~ evil movements, less effectively neutralized and hid them. Civil magistrates and ecclesiastics may not in the main be hny holier now than heretofore, but political forms, canon law, the persistent suasion of civilized con-ventions prevent their being as violent in their evils as once upon a time save where the primitive passions arise again under the ifnpulse of marching boots and songs and shouts. ~3nce this backdrop of primitive violence is set, still another note in Chrysostom's situation must be recalled. It is this. The glory of European_ civilization was in the fourth century pivoted not yet on Europe proper but still on Alexandria and Antioch and old Byzantium. The East bore the glory of human history. Greek was the great language of the Empire. Christ had come in the East. Greek philosophy was reborn in Origen, Plotinus, Por-phyry. The great councils of the Church were Eastern councils. The Near East flourished with libraries, splen-did cities, the roads and methods taught and fostered by the earlier Romans. The deserts of Egypt and the fast-nesses of Cappadocia and Caesarea heard in th~ still crystal nights the prayers of Eastern monks. Augustine was only now bringing glory to the Latin tongue; Benedict was not yet shifting the pivot of spiritual energy from Egypt to Subiaco. Western Europe was only now b~ing conceived: the East would bring her forth. In the violence of local jealousies and entanglements with the state, Chrysostom, the light of the East, could appeal to Innocent of Rome. The Pope and he could find solace in one another's reverence and love. East and West were not yet fighting against themselves, as mother against her daughter, as land blessed by the presence Of Christ against land chosen as the humble seat of Christian leader-÷ ÷ ÷ Saint o] East and West VOLUME 20, 1q61 ÷ ÷ ÷ Michael Novai~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 40 ship. Chrysostom appealed to Innocent; Innocent replied with love. But Innocent's powerlessness foreshadowed the doom that'was to come, as the torture and dispersal of his emissaries foreshadowed other injuries of each side upon the other in the centuries to come. These were still prom-ising times, at the end of the fourth century. Chrysostom's fame went around the world; Africa and Italy shared the suspense and pain of his exile, and waited upon his let.° ters. These were among the last generations of unity of sentiment between East and West. Like the mysterious column of flame that leapt up in the night from Chrys-ostom's pulpit and burnt his cathedral to the ground, as he took ship never to see Byzantium again, so the glory of the East was to feel the flame and fire of centuries of strife, long separation, and continued misunderstanding. Why was Chrysostom sent into exile? When he came to Constantinople as Patriarch, he had begun, as Donald Attwater says, to sweep the stairs from the top. He re-buked, encouraged, disciplined, set the example for his clergy. He spoke courageously against the rich, on behalf of the poor for justice' sake, on behalf of Christ for humility's and charity's sake. He rebuked vanities and thoughtless injustices. He spoke plainly to the Empress and her court. At a crucial moment he dared to speak impulsively of the vanity of wealthy women of the court, perhaps even deliberately to ring out adoxia (disreputa-ble) to suggest Eudoxia (the Empress). Theophilus of Alexandria had had little difficulty setting enemies in motion concertedly against him. Exiled once, brought back in glory shortly--in a harbor crowded as a city square, to shouts, to joy--he was soon exiled again, de-finitively. The reasons hardly mattered. Enemies he had. Richly slippered toes he had trampled on. The ardent affection of the people could not prevent the outcome. Why was Chrysostom sent into exile? It was not only for the reasons of state, the trumped-up charges, then the consequent intrigues, the pressures, the Imperial com-mands to make the charges stick. These were trivial, dispensable. If it had .not been these, it would have been others. Good men must be broken. This is the law of Christianity. Chrysostom understood it, explicitly. Chrysostom's great natural gift was his unequalled heart-enflaming tongue; by all the laws of Christianity, his tongue would have to be silenced. Chrysostom had to be sent into exile, to the 'farthest parts of the Empire, so that God's grace might work where he had worked be-fore, Silent now in tongue, his letters live for ages--letters exile forced on him. Chrysostom grasped the fact that the kingdom Christ came to bring has laws for its inner life which set history topsy-turvy. A historian seeing the incredible malice, jealously, and ferocity of religious leaders in these times might marvel, with contempt, that Christianity could achieve so little fruit, even~,among her own.W, i~.t~',hier-archy, favor, churches, energies,~Christianity seems to do so lattle, for all 1.ts lovely wor~ls, to give the race-new hfe. But Christianity is not hierarchy or social acceptability. It is not monasteries or many vocations or crowds in church. All these did not prevent, they caused, the tor-ture of Chrysostom to death. Christianity is sacrificial love. Christian life is sacrificed life. Hence persecutions must come. If they do not come from those outside Chris-tendom, they must come from the corruption or limita-tions in the organization itself. Indeed, saint will perse-cute saint°as St. Jerome and St. Epiphanius joined Chrysostom's enemies; as good Cardinal Manning and khe saintly Newman could hardly bear each other's com-pany without severe constraint. Sacrificial love is the in-ner life of the Church. All the turmoil at Constantinople --jealousy, scheming, lying, banishment, and torture for those who would not w6rship with the false successors-- all this was necessary to make the inner life of Constan-tinople's faithful fructify. Christianity simply cannot live without suffering. External standards and measurements have got, at times, to be set at odds. Only so can con-sciences be proved truly mature, strong, brave, bold, in the darkness of faith and selflessness. "There is no need to remind you, the teacher and shepherd of a great flock," wrote Pope Innocent to Chrysostom, "that everywhere and always good men are put to the test of meeting with injustice and evil . Rest securely then in your good conscience, honored brother, for that is the strength of all good men in the hour of~affliction." "Do not be scan-dalized," John wrote to Olympias, recalling the ~candal of the Incarnation and of all the Scriptures; "remember that things even more distressing happened in the days of the Apostles." Though disunity and injustice racked his see, though true Christians were driven from the churches while the cowardly or the vicious pretended to worship there, though he himself was driven ever further into exile, forced to travel and again to travel (an attempt by his enemies to murder him by physical exhaustion), still Chrysostom could die with his favorite phrase upon his golden lips: "Glory be to God. Amen." Chrysostom un-derstood Christian love. "Be true to yourself and no one can harm you," he wrote in a last short treatise which he sent Olympias. Conscience is the dwelling place of Chris-tianity, and sacrificial love is the life of conscience not duty, or conformity, or complacency, or obligation, or law. Purified will, enamored of persons, and a Person. Hierarchy, canon law, even the Holy Mass itself, the sacra-÷ ÷ ÷ Saint oI East and West VOLUME 20, 1961 41 ments these are but means. They are some of them in-dispensable means, to be sure, given by Christ. But the accent may as accurately be On means as on indispensable. The law is love. The Way is love. The fruit is love. And love means sooner or later darkness, trial, and suffering. If East and West are separate since the tiine of John, it is because all kinds of considerations have got the better of sacrificial love. Historically polemic has been preju-diced and fruitless, each side preferring personal empha-ses to self-sacrificial views of truth. Why do Roman Cath-olics in practice if not in theory, exaggerate the legalisms of the external Church out of all proportion to their Christ-given role? Because these aspects have been under severe attack for many centuries and, knowing their value, these people have not got accustomed to seeing their limitation they are means, not the goal. Why do Easterners resist the effort of unity? Because they do not wish to forfeit centuries of tradition by a too humiliating capi~tulation to Western points of view. There are count-less 6ther reasons: none of them are insuperable, save through lack of charity. The inner dynamism of Chris-tianity is toward unity. Disunity makes for inner anguish; quarrelling causes our intensest pain; selfishness and ac-cusation make witnesses "cry out to the Lord for mercy and for aid. Just so, the scandal of disunity is our trial and darkness. The inner life of the Church is Sacrificial love. That is why the first need of East and West, when we speak of unity, is to focus our eyes with mutual regard on men as lovable as St. John Chrysostom, pride of the East and of the universal Church. Our longing hhs got to be the same as his: to be consumed, like John of the Mouth of Gold, in thq paradoxical, interior ways of the Lord's love. Michael Nov~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 42 R. F. SMITH, S. J. Documents The documents wh.ich appeared in, Acta Apostolicae Se, d~s I(AAS) during August and September, 1960, will be summarized in this article. Throughout the article all page references will be to the 1960 AAS (v. 52). New Breviary and Mass Rubrics By the apostolic letter motu propriO, Rubricarum in-structum, of July 25, 1960 (pp. 593-95), Pope John XXIII announced a new code of rubrics for the Roman Breviary arid Missal and decreed the revocation of all statutes, indults, and customs contrary to the new code. On the following day, July 26, 1960 (p. 596), the Sacred Congre-gation of Rites duly promulgated the new code of rubrics and directed that their observance be begun on January 1, 1961. The new code~ is a long document of one hundred and forty-four pages (pp. 597-740) and is divided into three parts which deal consecutively with general rubrics, rubrics of the Roman Breviary, hnd rubrics of the Roman Missal. "° General Rubrics Part One of the new code, entitled "General Rubrics," ¯ consists of nineteen chapters. The first of these chapters notes that the document is intended only for the Roman Rite. Chapter Two defines the mean.ing of liturgical days and rules that all such~days are now to be divided into first-, second-, third-, and fourth-class liturgical days. Chapter Three divides all Sundays into first- and sec-ond- class groups. First-class Sundays are the Sundays of Adveht, Lent, and Passiontide, Easter, Low Sunday, and Pentecost; all other Sundays are.second,class ones. First-class Sundays take precedence over all feasts with the ex, ception of the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. A second-class Sunday outranks a second-class feast and, when it occurs on November 2, displaces All Souls' Day. However, first- and second-class feasts of our Lord, ~when 4. 4. Survey oy Roman Documents VOLUME'20, 1961 R. F. Smith, $. ]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS they occur on a second-class Sunday, take over the place as well as all the rights and privileges of the Sunday; in such cases accordingly no commemoration is made of the Sunday. Ferials, Vigils, Feasts Chapter Four defines ferials as days of the week other than Sundays and divides them into four classes. First-class ferials are Ash Wednesday and the ferial days of Holy Week; all these ferials take precedence over all feast days and admit no commemoration except a privi-leged one. Second-class ferials are the Advent ferials from December 17 to December 23 and the Ember Days of Advent, Lent, and September. These ferials outrank sec-ond- class feasts and must be commemorated when out-ranked. Third-class ferials are all the other ferials of Advent, Lent, and Passiontide. Third-class Lenten and Passiontide ferials outrank third-class feasts, but third-class Advent ferials yield to such feasts. All third-class ferials, however, must be commemorated when out-ranked. All other ferials of the year are fourth-class ones and receive no commemoration when outranked. Vigils are divided in Chapter Five into three classes. The two first-class vigils, those of Christmas and Pente-cost, take precedence over all feast days; and the Vigil of Christmas, when necessary, takes the place of the Fourth Sunday of Advent. Second-class vigils, those of the Ascen-sion, of the Assumption, of the Nativity of St. John the Baptist, and of Sts. Peter and Paul, outrank third- and fourth-class liturgical days; the only third-class vigil, that of St. Lawrence, is preferred tO fourth-class liturgical days. Both second- and third-class vigils, when impeded, are commemorated according to the rubrics governing such matters; these vigils, however, are omitted if they fall on a Sunday or a first-class feast or if their feast day is transferred or reduced to a commemoration. Chapter Six groups feast days into first-, second-, and third-clvss feasts. Only first-class°feasts have First Vespers; however, second-class feasts of our Lord have First Vespers whenever they replace a second-class Sunday. The rest of this chapter is concerned chiefly with those feasts which the law now requires to be inserted into particular cal-endars drawn up for the use of dioceses or of religious orders and congregations. Chapter Seven r~tains only three octaves, those of Christmas, Easter, and Pentecost. The octaves of Easter and Pentecost are first-class ones; that is, all the days of these octaves are first-class. The Christmas octave is a second-class one; the days within the octave are second-class, but its Octave Day is a first-class day. Chapter Eight lists the various seasons of the ecclesi- astical year, while Chapter Nine provides for the Saturday Office of our Lady. Chapter Ten considers the Major and Minor Litanies; it notes that, those bound to the Office no longer need to say th'e' ~itany of the Saints on the Rogation Days; it Mso giv~'sq6~al ordinaries ~he ~I56wer to transfer the Rogation Days from their usual place to three other successive days at a more appropriate time. Precedence of Liturgical Days Chapter Eleven gives a breakdown of the days of the ecclesiastical year into the four classes of liturgical days and gives the rank of precedence within each of the four classes. First-class liturgical days. include all first-class Sundays, feasts, ferials, and vigils as well as the days within the octaves of Easter and Pentecosti the Octave Day of Christmas, and All Souls' Day. Seqond,class litur-gidal days are all second-class Sundays, feasts, ferials, and vigils together with the days within the octave of Christ-mas. Third-class ferials and feasts and the one third-class vigil constitute third-class liturgical days, while fourth-class liturgical days include the Saturday Office of our Lady and fourth-class ferials. Chapter Twelve defines what is meant by the occur-rence ~of liturgical days, and the following chapter gives the rules to be followed when two or more liturgical days happen to fall on the same date. In such cases only first-class feasts may be transferred; all other feasts are either commemorated or completely omitted. Chapter Fourteen gives the procedure to be followed in the case of a per-petual occurrence of liturgical days. Chapter Fifteen reg-ulates the situation that arises when the Vespers of one liturgical day conflict with the First Vespers of the suc-ceeding day. If the days are of unequal rank, the Vespers of the higher day are to be said; but if the two days are eqtlal in rank, Second Vespers are to be said with a com-memoration of the other set of Vespers. Commemorations Chapter Sixteen divides all commemorations into priv-ileged and ordinary commemorations. Privileged com-memorations are made at Lauds and Vespers and in all Masses; ordinary commemorations on the other hand are made only at Lauds and in conventual and low Masses. Privileged commemorations are the commemorations to be made of a Sunday; of first-class liturgical days; of~ the days within the octave of Christmas; of the September Ember Days; of Advent, Lent, and Passi?ntide ferials; and of the Major Litanies (but at Mass or~ly). All other commemorations are ordinary. In Masses of first-class liturgical days and in sung non-conventual Masses, no commemoration~is to be made ex- 4. 4. 4- Survey Roman VOLUME 20, 1961 45 cept a privileged one. Second-class Sundays permit a commemoration of a second-class feast only; even this, however, is to be omitted if there is a privileged com-memoration. Other second-class liturgical days permit one commemoration, whether privileged or ordinary. Third-and fourth-class liturgical days permit only two commem-orations, Chapter Seventeen gives the conclusions to be used for the orations and commemorations of the Breviary and the Missal. Chapter Eighteen is concerned with the litur-gical colors; it gives episcopal conferences in mission" ter-ritories the power to change the liturgical colors when they are inappropriate for that particular region. Chapter Nineteen completes Part One of the document by its rubrics for Mass" and Office vestments; according to this chapter the folded chasuble and the broad stole are no longer to be used. 4- 4. ÷ R. F. Smith, S. ]. Breviary Rubrics Part Two of the new code of rubrics is entitled "Gen-eral Rubrics of the Roman Breviary." Chapter One of this part divides the recital of the Office into choral,~com-mort, and individual recital. Choral recital is that of a community obliged to choir by ecclesiastical law; common recital is that of a community (two or three persons are sufficient) not bound to choir. Chapter Two notes that the canonical hours are dis-tributed in a way intended to sanctify the natural day; nevertheless to satisfy the obligation of reciting the Of-rice it is sufficient if all the canonical hours are said in the twenty-four hour period allotted them. Matins (but not Lauds1) may be anticipated after two o'clock in the after-noon of the preceding day. In choral and common recital Lauds should be recited in the early morning and Ves-pers, even during Lent and Passiontide, in the afternoon. The same p.ractice is recommended for private recital. Compline is fittingly made the last prayer of the day, even though Matins of the following day have been antici-pated. When Compline is made the last prayer of the day m choral and common recital, the Pater noster is omitted, its place being taken by an examination of conscience ~of reasonable length; the Confiteor and the rest of Compline are then.recited. All of this is also recommended .for indi-vidual recital. Chapter Three then discusses the calendar to be followed by those bound to the Office. Chapter Four begins by listing three types of Matins. .The first type, consisting of three Nocturns, that is, nine Psalms and nine Lessons, is used on first- and second-class REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS lit is probable that in private recitation Lauds may still be 46 anticipated. feasts, on the lfist three days of Hply Week, on the Octave Day of Christmas, and on All Souls' Day. The second type consists of a single Nocturn of nine Psalms and three Lessons; it is Used on all Sundays except Easter and Pente-cost, on all ferials except the'q~t three days of Holy Week, on vigils, on third-class feasts; on'the days within the octave of Christmas, and at-the Saturday Office of our Lady. The [hird type of Mating, used only on Easter and Pentecost and throughout their octaves 'if composed of a single Nocturn of three P~Alms find three Lessons. The chapter continues by" considering th~ five kinds of Offices which are now ~6 b~ used in the recital of the Breviary. "I:l{e Sunday Officd i~xcluding th6 Office°for Easter, Pentecost, and the Sunday within the oc'tave of Christmas) is largely the same as formerlywith the excep-tion of Matins. At Matins are recited the nine Sunday Psalms, then the absolution Exaudi; the Blessings to be used are Ille nos, Divinum ~iuxilium, and Per 'evangelica dicta. The First Lesson is the same as the former First. Leg-son of the day's Scripture; the gecond~ Lesson is formed'by u~iting the former Second and Third Lessons of the Scripture; and the Third Lessoh ig the First Lesson of the Homily, that is, the former Seventh Lesson. The festive Office is used for all first-class feasts and is said in the same wgy as an~ Office of a double of the first clasg was formerly said. The semi-festive Office, used for second-class feagts, is said in the same°way that Offices of doubles of the sdcofid clasg'have been~recited since 1~55. The ordinary Office, that uged on third-class feasts and for the Satm'day Office of oui'Lady, is recited like the former simple Office except for s6me changes in the Les-sons. The First Lesson is the former First Lesson of the day's Scripture, the Second Lesson is formed by uniting the former Second and Third Lessons of the Scripture, and the Third Les~on is of'the feast. This Third Lesson is obtained by using the "contracted life of the saint_ in the former Office; or, failing that, by.~om.bining the Fourth~ Fifth, and Sixth I~ssons of the former'prope.r Office of the feast; br finally, if .t.~ae feast has no Proper, by using the former Fourth Lesson of the Common. The ferial Office, used on all fer'ials and vigils except the last three days o.f Holy"Week and the Vigil of Christmas, is like the former ferial Office with Lessons either of the H~omi!y or of t~e day's Scripture. The Dil~eren.t Parts o['~the .OOice ,, ,.+,. Chapter Five, which legislates for the various parts of the Office, makes several changes which "can be-noted here. All Hymns of the Office have only the conclusion given in the Breviary, all changes~ of the conclusion by reason of feast or season being now excluded. The com-plete Antiphon is always to be said in its entirety both ÷ Survey o~ ~ Roman Documents ;=VOLUME 20, 1961 ÷ ÷ R. F. Smith, S. ]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS d8 before and after the Psalms and Canticles of all the canonical hours. The Responsoria of Offices with three Nocturns are to be taken from the Proper or the Common as previously. In the.Sunday Office, however, the first Responsorium will be the one given after the former First Lesson; the second will'be that given after the former Third Scripture Lesson; and the third, when needed, will be the Responsorium formerly recited after the Third Lesson of the Homily. In ordinary Offices with Lessons taken from the day's Scripture, the first Responsorium will be that used after the former First Lesson, while the second will be that formerly used after the Third Scrip-ture Lesson. Ordinary Offices with proper Scripture Les-sons will use proper or o~dinary Responsoria in the° same order as given in the previous kind of ordinary Office. At Prime the Capitulum will always be Regi saecu-lorum and the Lectio Brevis is always to be the seasonal one. In private recital of the Office and when the Office is recited by those who are not deacons, the prayer or oration of the Office is to be preceded-by Domine, exaudi orationem meam with its response in place of Dominus vobiscum and its response. Preces feriales are to be said at Lauds and Vespers of the ferial Office on Wednesdays and Fridays of Advent, Lent, Passiontide, and the Sep-tember Ember Week. They are also to be said at Lauds on Ember Saturdays except on the Saturday within the octave of Pentecost. Chapter Six gives the directions for making the sign of the cross and for bodily posture during the choral and common recital of the Office. It is recommended that the regulations for the sign of the cross be followed also in individual recital.° Mass Rubrics Part Three of the new c~de of rubrics is called "General Rubrics of the Roman Missal." Chapter One gives some ¯ basic notions of the various kinds of Masses and notes that the phrase "private Mass'" should be avoided, since the Mass by its nature is always and everywhere an act of public worship. Chapter Two then considers the calendar to be followed in the celebration of Mass. Chapter Three siates that the conventual Mass, except on fourth-class ferials, must comform to the Office of the day and should be ff solemn Mass, or at least a high Mass. This chapter prohibits the chanting.of the Divine Office during the conventual Mass. Chapter Four is' con-cerned with Sunday and ferial.Masses, while Chapter Five discusses the Mass for feast days. This latter chapter al-lows a priest celebrating a non-conventual Mass to choose a proper Mass for a given feast from the section "for cer-tain places" rather than use a Mass formula from the Common. And in the case of non-conventual Masses, any of the Mass formulas in the correct category of the Com-mon may be used when there is no proper Mass for the feast. Votive Masses "' '" ~' Chapter Six, which deals with votive Masses, begins by general remarks on the subject. It permits all Masses of universal feasts of the Blessed Virgin to be used as votive Masses, excluding, however, Masses of the mysteries of hbr life with the exception of the Immaculate Concep-tion. Sequences are to be omitted in votive Masses and vestment colors should fit in with the votive Mass chosen. In the case of low, non-conventual votive Masses of the fourth class, however, the color of the Office of the day may be used; violet and black, however, are always to be used when demanded by the votive Mass chosen. The chapter then divides votive Masses into four classes. First-class votive Masses, which are those permitted on all litu

Issue 63.2 of the Review for Religious, 2004. ; 2004 Review for Religious helps people respond and be faithful to God's universal call to holiness by making available to them the spiritual legacies that flow from the charisms of Catholic consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ° St. Joseph's Provincial House 333 South Seton Avenue ° Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2004 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 permissign will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religigus. view 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 Tray Gramn~ Judy Sharp Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Ernest E. Larkin QCarm Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla sJ Miriam D. Ukeritis csJ QUARTERLY 63.2 2004 contents 118 134 143 spirituaO wisdom Keeping a Balance: Contemplation and Christian Meditation Brian V. Johnstone CSSR proposes that some form of active vocal prayer may well go together with contemplation. Faith Seeking Understanding: Spiritual Direction's Sapiential Function Dennis J. Billy CSSR explains how spiritual direction is a divine (but also human) art that helps us "pray in truth" and come to an intimate personal knowledge of God. Windows of the Soul: Walter Ciszek SJ George Asehenbrenner SJ relates the incident in the life of the Jesuit Walter Ciszek that gave him the faith-filled freedom to survive twenty years of Communist prison. 148 158 men oring Merton and a Spirituality for Millennials Fred Herron proposes Merton's retrieval of the riches of the Benedictine Rule as a spirituality for the millennial generation. Paradox in the Monastery: Lessons from Two Ammas Laura Swan OSB reflects upon the paradox that oft-told stories reveal more about us and our current struggles than about the subject of the story. Review for Religious 169 Viewing Chapters as "Authorizing" Our Congregations' Narratives Patrick Sean Moffett CFC presents various aspects of religious-life chapters that emphasize the storytelling nature of these ecclesial events. 182 ignatian tradition Our Lady's Presence in the Spiritual Exercises J. Thomas Hamel SJ helps us to review the subtle, but penetrating, presence of our Lady to the prayer exercises of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises. 192 The Spiritual Power of Matter: Teilhard and the Exercises Kathleen Duffy SSJ shows how the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius helped Teilhard de Chardin to synthesize the science of evolution with his Christian knowledge of God. departments 116 Prisms 204 Canonical Counsel: Mergers, Unions, Federations, and Confederations 211 Book Reviews 63.2 2004 Pentecost is the traditional birthday of the Christian church, and its mis-sionary effort began simultaneously with its birth. As we read in the second chapter of the Acts of the Apostles, Peter stood up "with the Eleven, raised his voice, and addressed the devout Jews of every nation staying in Jerusalem at the time. 'Jesus God has raised up, and we are his witnesses. Exalted at God's right hand, he first received the promised Holy Spirit from the Father, then poured this Spirit out on us. This is what you now see and hear'" (Ac 2:32-33). As a result of Peter's preaching on this first Pentecost day, some three thousand were bap-tized. This is the story of the church's birthday. After centuries of identifying mission just as one of the activities of the church, we now are returning to the church beginnings at Pentecost to realize how church and mission are a single reality. We might claim, then, that Christian theology has its beginnings in our reflection on mission. In the U.S. bishops' 1986 pastoral let-ter "To the Ends of the Earth," we read: "To say church is to say mission." Our way of theologizing about our Trinitarian God--Father, Son, and Spirit--is in terms of their active relationships, in terms of their mission. In Genesis, God pours forth the Spirit, and creation and life happen. In the Gospel of St. John, Jesus describes himself as the One who is sent. And, in that same Gospel, Review for Religious Jesus describes anew a sending of the Spirit from the Father and himself. Both creation and redemption can be described as salvific acts because God as "missionary" is always involved in being a saving presence in creation. As the Body of Christ, sharing in divine life, we the church also share in God's mission. The church, then, like our Trinitarian God, is missionary in its very being. The word missionary cannot be restricted only to those sent to evangelize in countries or cultures not their own. In fact, mission cannot be defined by geography, especially in our globalized world. Mission is not driven just by the zeal to expand the boundaries of the church. To be missionary, however, does call us to step out beyond the boundaries of our fears and our traditions and our cultures. If being church is being missionary, what does mis-sion mean for us? We Christians, members of Christ's Body, are missionary in our very baptismal being. Jesus has extended his mission to us all--proclaiming the reign of God (close around us) and so making people aware of the nearness of a saving, loving God. Just as the mis-sion of God is found incarnated in Jesus' life mission, we realize that our mission today must be exercised in the way we live and deal with others. It is the way that God respects and dialogues with us human beings. Only with such dialogue and respect can we make ourselves one with God's mission. As missionaries, like St. Francis of Assisi, we live, and sometimes we have to preach. There is a traditional saying, "You can only convert what you love." In an analogous way, we might need first to be "evangelized" by those that we intend to evangelize. But today we are being called anew to be who we are baptized to be: missionaries, made in the image and like-ness of our Trinitarian God, our Missionary God. David L. Fleming SJ 63.2 2004 spiritua wisdom BRIAN V. JOHNSTONE Keeping a Balance: Contemplation and Christian Meditation Some time ago Ernest E. Larkin OCarm pub-lished an article titled "Today's Contemplative Prayer Forms: Are they Contemplation?" After reviewing the different meanings given to "meditation" and "contemplation," he conclu-ded: "In this frame of reference, we see that centering prayer and Christian Meditation do not fit handily in the category of either meditation or contemplation. They are something new in contemplative practice.''1 The present article offers an account of what is different in these contemporary prayer forms and seeks to show how they are nevertheless related to tradition. The discussion will focus primarily on Christian Meditation. Meditation and Contemplation Contemplation itself, as understood for example by St. John of the Cross, is "pure Oft"; there is no place in it for active collaboration. Brian V. Johnstone CSSR, new to our pages, writes from Accademia Alfonsiana; C.P. 2458; 00100 Roma; Italy. Review for Religious Thus, Larkin concludes, "John's contemplation is not the immediate horizon of contemporary contemplative prayer forms.''2 In his writings, the Benedictine monk John Main, who is recognized as the original exponent of Christian Meditation, does not enter into lengthy, detailed analysis of the higher states of prayer such as we find in St. Teresa or St. John of the Cross. In his account of Christian Meditation, John Main says: "I am using the term meditation as synonymous with contemplation, contemplative prayer, meditative prayer, and so forth.''3 We do not find in his writings a sharp distinction between contemplation in the classic sense and the forms of prayer that entail the active engagement of the person praying. Is there an issue here? Perhaps the most practical question is whether Christian Meditation is to be regarded as a form of contemplation in the classic sense, that is, a type of prayer that is believed to be given freely by God, but usually only after a long process of many steps. In particular, for John of the Cross, contemplation begins with the passive, dark night of the senses. This would mean, at least in a commonly accepted interpretation of contemplation, that it would be a miraculous supernatural event reserved for an elite. Christian Meditation, as described by John Main, is not like this. It is a form of prayer in which, after some simple instruction, beginners can join. He is concerned to impart to interested persons a simple method which, being simple, is available to many. Participants are not encouraged to think of themselves as moving from stage to stage along a precisely delineated path towards a "higher" level of prayer. It is recognized that meditation over a long period, many years in fact, is usually necessary to acquire facility and skill, but experienced meditators are not considered as having attained a level of prayer with different requirements from those that are appropriate and possible for beginners. 63.2 2004 Johnstone ¯ Keeping a Balance A fear of mistaking "doing nothing, with nothing happening" for genuine contemplation has a long history in Christian prayer. This raises an important practical issue. In the traditional theological analysis, it was important that persons engaged in prayer recognize clearly the stage they had attained. A director was to assist discernment in this matter. Since there were particular rules and expectations for each stage, a mistake could have serious spiritual consequences. The issue is mentioned in Larkin's article; he cites James Arraj as warning that without "express contemplation" (which I take to mean contemplation in the sense of "infused" or passive contemplation) the person should continue to make acts of faith and love rather than be "simply idle in the prayer." 4 The practical problem seems to come when people think they have been given the pure gift of contemplation in the proper sense. Then, since this level is essentially passive and excludes the making of acts, they think they should drop such activity. But they may be mistaken. Having stopped making acts of faith and so forth, they may then just "hang out," doing nothing, thinking they are enjoying the gift of passive contemplation when they are merely being passive. They would be doing nothing, and nothing would be happening. This would be unlikely in the case of people following John Main's Christian Meditation. He insists on the continuous, quiet repetition of a short prayer that he calls the mantra; if persons at prayer should momentarily lapse into inactivity and find themselves Review for Religious doing nothing, they should immediately begin repeating the mantra again. A fear of mistaking "doing nothing, with nothing happening" for genuine contemplation has a long history in Christian prayer. On the one hand, it would be a serious mistake to lead people to believe that the hours they are spending in "contemplation" are just a waste of time, mere wool gathering. On the other hand, if a spiritual guide such as John Main strongly recommends that people continue to make acts during meditation, does this imply that in this form of meditation there is no place at all for contemplation in the classic passive sense? In offering an answer to this question, I will examine a prayer form recommended by St. Teresa and accepted also by some who followed her. As I will seek to show, she had a less restrictive notion of contemplation than the previous analysis suggests. This broader notion of contemplation, furthermore, may well have a parallel in Christian Meditation. Active Recollection Larkin takes note of St. Teresa's "active recollection," a form of prayer that she developed from her own experience,s He describes it as a "transitional prayer form that is very similar to modern contemplative prayer.''6 "Transitional" indicates that this way of praying is followed by those who are passing from simple meditation to the "higher" levels of contemplation, but have not yet arrived. St. Alphonsus de Liguori (+1787), in addition to his works on moral theology, wrote extensively on the spiritual life, and in particular on prayer. Following St. Teresa, he gives special mention to "active recollection," which he links closely to "contemplative repose," an expression he takes from "the mystics.''7 Contemplative repose, he explains, is vi.rtually the same as active recollection; it refers to a spiritual condition in which 63.2 2004 ,~obnstone * Keei~ing a Balance "the soul is focused on some spiritual thought and, absorbed in itself, feels gently attracted to God." I will analyze this type of prayer, "active contemplation," and compare it with Christian Meditation. Such a comparison will, I believe, serve to show the continuity of Christian Meditation with tl~e older tradition, and also bring to light those new features which it has to offer. What did St. Teresa mean by "active recollection"? She was familiar with what is called "discursive meditation." This form was promoted in the Dominican Luis de Granada's famous Book of Prayer and Meditation, which St. Teresa actually recommends in her con-stitutions. She herself, however, did not find this way of prayer suitable. About such works she wrote, "There are so many good books written by able persons for those who have methodical minds and for souls that are experienced and can concentrate within themselves that it would be a mistake if you pay attention to what I say about prayer" (19.1). But her own method is for those persons whose minds, like hers, are "wild horses" (19.2). How does St. Teresa deal with this mental rodeo in the context of prayer? She recommends .the Lord's Prayer. One would recite it phrase by phrase, slowly and attentively. In her view, vocal prayer does not exclude contemplation. She calls her method "active recollection." in this kind of prayer, she says, "the soul collects its faculties together and enters within itself to be with God" (28.4). This entails a centering of attention, plus awareness that God is near, fully with us at all times (29.5). We are to be fully present to God and to gaze upon him. Teresa uses the sight metaphor several times. It is not a matter of constructing arguments with concepts. She writes: "I'm not asking you now that you think about Him or that you draw out a lot of concepts or make long and subtle reflections with your intellect. I'm not asking you to do anything more than Review for Religio~ts look at Him" (26.3). She calls this a "method," and the one praying is required to make an "effort." This form of active prayer does not exclude contemplation, but promotes and may include it. From Teresa's experience she can affirm that this method disposes a person to the prayer of quiet (that is, a more passive kind) more readily and quickly than other methods. During this form of prayer, she writes, the soul will at times feel a passive quieting and be drawn gradually to a greater silence (30.7). For Teresa, the experience of passivity, that is, of contemplation in the proper sense, is not reserved to some final stage at the end of a long progression, nor is it reserved for spiritual experts. Is there a conceptual difference between the "prayer of quiet" and contemplation in the classic sense? St. Teresa refers to the former as "the beginning of pure contemplation" (30.7). But it still entails active recollection and may include vocal prayer. She insists that it is a mistake to believe that vocal prayer cannot go together with contemplation. There are no clear psychological gaps between vocal prayer, the prayer of quiet, and the beginning of contemplation. One fades into another as the felt need to initiate new effort yields to the sense of being moved by the impetus of the process one has already begun. This itself, of course, was begun as a response to the stimulus of grace, which in turn, as it emerges into consciousness, yields the awareness of being taken over completely by God. St. Alphonsus dealt specifically with the nature of the "prayer of quiet." According to his view, since in active recollection one's will is dominant, it will bring the imagination under control without any further effort on the part of the soul.8 There is, then, control, but it is the kind of control that follows the momentum of the earlier activity; there is no need for the further effort of making 63.2 2004 Jobnstone * Keeping a Balance new acts. This is a-form of quiet, but it is not completely passive. St. Alphonsus insists on some acts, those to which God is gently attracting us. The impetus of the divine initiative begins to emerge into consciousness, but this is not to say that the same initiative was absent before one's becoming conscious of it. The assumption that active and passive prayer are essentially different levels of prayer begins to appear as abstract theory that does not necessarily correspond to actual experience. For St. Teresa, the reason for active recollection is to become aware of Christ's presence. For example, we can be present to him in joy, being with him as risen. Here Teresa seems to imply reflection on the Gospel accounts. She has a theological support for this conviction: "Although risen, he still influences us through his earthly mysteries, by which he draws close to us in a more tangible way" (26.4,5,8). St. Alphonsus, as has been said, followed St. Teresa closely with respect to "active recollection." He is St. Alphonsus insists on some acts, those to which God is gently attracting us. perhaps more insistent than she is that the person at prayer continue to make acts. There may have been historical reasons for this emphasis, apart from A1- phonsus's own energetic personality. Pope Innocent XI in 1687 condemned the Quietists. This group taught, or is supposed to have taught, that making one intense act of love of God and never withdrawing it would assure union with God, and that no further effort was needed either in prayer or in living. It may be as a reaction against this that St. Alphonsus stresses the need for acts and more acts. Review for Religious However, while he emphasized the need for activity, it was certainly not his intention that the active contemplation become obsessively busy. Consider the following description of active recollection: "Without conscious effort, untroubled by external distractions, and totally absorbed within itself, experiencing at the same time a deep sense of serenity, the soul is able to concentrate on the mystery or the eternal truth in question.''9 These words would, on the whole, not sound alien to one familiar with Christian Meditation. But, to explain the differences between Christian Meditation and the active recollection of the Teresan tradition, a more detailed description of the former is needed. Christian Meditation John Main's account of Christian Meditation begins with an acknowledgment of the inveterate confusion of the human mind. While St. Teresa invoked the image of wild horses, John Main compares this condition of the mind of the would-be meditator to a "tree full on monkeys." Whether described in terms of horses or monkeys, the mental experiences are clearly similar. There is also a similarity in the way these two writers recommend that we deal with the problem. St. Teresa favors the Lord's Prayer; John Main also proposes a form of vocal prayer. The prayer he recommends is an attentive, mindful repetition of a phrase, a mantra. He recommends, in particular, Marana tha, an Aramaic expression which means "Our Lord, come." St. Paul ends his First Letter to the Corinthians with this invocation, and the Book of Revelation ends with the same prayer. The prayer is eminently Christian. For both St. Teresa and John Main, the aim of cultivating attention so as to make space for the experience of the presence of God is essentially the same. Main once wrote: 63.2 2004 Johnstone ¯ Keeping aBalance St. Thomas Aquinas says that "contemplation consists in the simple enjoyment of the truth." Simple enjoyment! Now it is true that thinking, analyzing, comparing, and contrasting all have their place in the various disciplines, including theology. But contemplation, as St. Thomas calls it, meditation as we would call it, is not the time for activity, for the activity of thinking, analyzing, comparing, or contrasting. Meditation is the time for being. Simple enjoyment. And the simplicity that St. Thomas speaks of, its oneness, union.1° Here no clear distinction is made between contemplation in St. Thomas's sense and meditation. The experience of oneness or union, however, seems to belong to contemplation in the classic sense, that is, something beyond active meditation; the soul is completely passive. For John Main, though, these distinctions do not seem to matter. There is a notable difference between the Weresan prayer of "active recollection," at least as understood by St. Alphonsus, and Christian Meditation. The first entails reflection on a "mystery" or "eternal truth," while the latter aims at a sense of union, without passing through the penetration of a "truth." In Christian Meditation, one does not concentrate, for example, on the meaning of the phrase "Lord, come," but repeats it as a way of focusing awareness on the presence of God. As we have seen, St. Teresa, and St. Alphonsus as well, would immediately affirm this goal. The point of difference is that they would include a concentration on a particular mystery or truth within the meditation itself. Truth in a more general sense, however, is intended as an element of Christian Meditation. John Main wrote: "Meditate every morning and every evening, faithfully, simply, and humbly. Contemplation consists in the simple enjoyment of truth.''11 This statement suggest two facets of the one event: the active meditation (that is, the Review for Religious repetition of the mantra) and the simple enjoyment that accompanies it. This is not all that different from St. Teresa's and St. Alphonsus's notion of "active recollection." Christian Meditation should not be misinterpreted. It is not antiintellectual or antitheological. It does not downplay the importance of truths. It merely leaves reflection on such truths outside of meditation itself. Indeed, within the movement there is available to meditators an extensive body of writing that offers ample reflection on the mysteries of faith. Because it is a popular movement, the reflection is generally not presented as systematic theology, but then neither are the reflections of St. Teresa or St. Alphonsus. I have noted above the particular place that St. Teresa gave to the resurrection; the same theme occurs frequently in the writings of John Main.~2 It would be a mistake to think that Christian Meditation plays down doctrine. Rather, we might say, it is presumed that study and reflection lead to a background awareness which, while not consciously evoked in the meditation itself, continues to support spiritual awareness. There can be no doubt that many people, growing numbers of them, have found Christian Meditation a most satisfactory way of prayer. Is there any compelling reason to choose between St. Teresa's more extensive use of words during meditation--in particular, the words of the Lord's Prayer--and the brief word recommended in Christian Meditation? There are many ways of praying, and people may be led by the Spirit along different paths. Some, perhaps because of different cultural backgrounds, have found the older approach rather too insistent on Christian Meditation is not antiintellectual or antitheological. 63.2 2004 Johnstone * Keeping aBalance repeated acts and a good many words. As I have noted previously, however, neither St. Teresa nor St. Alphonsus had in mind a multiplication of acts or a mechanical proliferation of words. For whatever reason, though, in our time the verbal austerity of Christian Meditation seems to appeal to many. The limited use of words, or even the deliberate renunciation of them, in Christian Meditation is connected to its nature as conceived by John Main. Spiritual authors in the past often spoke of "conversation" in their accounts of prayer. This conversation was to be a two-way affair, even if carefully structured. When God speaks, we listen attentively; when God does not speak, we engage actively in the conversation through acts of faith and love.~3 This "traditional" element John Main includes in his own words, although again with a significant modification: "Prayer is not a matter of talking to God, but of listening to him, of being with him. It is this simple understanding of prayer that lies behind John Cassian's advice that, if we want to pray, to listen, we must become quiet and still, reciting a short verse over and over again." ~4 Active Recollection and Contemplation At this point I move to a more theoretical discussion, but one with practical implications as well. The issue is the relationship between active recollection and contemplation. St. Teresa, from her own experience, taught that active recollection disposed to contemplation, but she also anticipated that contemplation itself might well arrive during the time of active recollection. The 4th-century monks of the Egyptian desert also expected that "higher" forms of prayer might suddenly break through more normal forms of meditation. During their periods of praying the psalms together, they were to curb their spitting, coughing, yawning, groaning, and Review for Religious similar noises. The only sound that was accepted was a spontaneous sigh of ecstasy.15 It was anticipated, apparently, that moments of "contemplation" would emerge within more ordinary prayer. St. Teresa seems to have had no difficulty in recognizing when such special moments occurred in her own prayer. For one whose spiritual sensibilities were as finely tuned as hers, there would probably be no reason to have any doubt about the presence of contemplation. What are we to think, then, of the advice of Arraj, mentioned by Larkin, that, until "express contemplation" is present, one should continue to make acts (of faith, love, and so forth)? The practical problem is how to know that such contemplation is present, and how certain we should be about it. To clarify the question, we could accept Karl Rahner's theological explanation, namely, that the experience of God in meditation, in human activity, or in classical spiritual doctrine's "infused contemplation" arises from the one same gift of God at work within us.16 Indeed this must be the case. To speak of "passive" contemplation as a pure gift must not be allowed to suggest that active recollection is not a gift, but somehow a product of our own efforts, before or apart from grace. We may say that recollection "disposes" us to the prayer of quiet, but we may not claim that recollection is the product of our initiative, which somehow, of its own power, engenders or earns the further state. "Pure," as applied to the gift of contemplation, does not imply that prayer such as active recollection is somehow impure, because contaminated with human activity. Nor can it be philosophically accurate to say that in "passive" prayer we are not active in any sense. The pure gift of God's grace cannot but raise us to the highest level of actuation. Our conscious experience may be one of pure passivity, but when God takes over completely our 63.2 2004 Johnstone ¯ Keeping a Balance The more intense the power of grace, the more we are fully active. 1-30J capacities are not simply extinguished. As is always the case with grace, the more intense the power of grace, the more we are fully active. The more God intervenes, the more empowered we become and the more free we are. Similarly, I would have difficulties with an explanation of infused contemplation according to which "the infused light and love go directly to the object without any return to the self.''17 In the "modern" philosophical era (that is, from the 16th century onwards), there has been a dissociation between subject and object)8 This seems to have been reflected in Catholic theo-logy, so that some traditions focus on the subject and others on the object. In these circumstances the interpretation of the spiritual experience involved here may tilt excessively towards the object. Perhaps such thoughts as these are ¯ improper philosophical intrusions on discourse about spirituality, but I would suggest that cutting or leaving the subject completely out of the picture is metaphysically impossible. Further, I would point out that what is interpreted as an absolute certainty of the presence of God, or of the state of "passivity," is a certainty on the part of the subject. When someone says "Whenever I experienced contemplative prayer, there was absolutely no doubt that I was in God's presence,"'9 we would need to add after "doubt" the words "in my mind." Without this qualification the interpretation veers too far towards the subjective. Such a state of consciousness is not a proof that God is present, or that the pure gift of prayer of quiet has in fact been granted. We cannot know definitively whether we have reached this "stage" or not. Review for Religious Such certainty as we have rests ultimately on the certainty of our faith, not on the felt quality of our experiences. This is not to return to a theory in which grace is beyond experience. We may indeed experience grace. But our conscious certainty cannot establish that grace is in fact present. What I am suggesting here is that the traditional language used in speaking of contemplation, meditation, and levels of prayer has problems. At least part of the difficulty with the older formulations is that they presupposed a rigid distinction between "natural" and "supernatural," and hence between "acquired" (or natural) contemplation and "infused" (or supernatural) contemplation. "Natural" meant what we do; "supernatural" meant what God does. Such a sharp distinction is understandable when we recall the theological disputes of the time (especially the controversies about grace), but we would express that difference somewhat more flexibly today. Perhaps we could say that it was and is a mistake to reify the various categories of prayer which the classic authors have named for us. Probably it was not so much these authors themselves, but the theological commentators who interpreted them, who made the mistake. To reify would mean to consider the distinct kinds of prayer as if they were things like quantitative blocks of consciousness that we could, as it were, line up one after another on a conveyor belt and then run the belt through our minds. Following on this thought, we might suggest that saying the petitions of the Lord's Prayer, as St. Teresa did, or repeating.the mantra, as John Main did, can dispose us to quiet and contemplation. But it is not necessary to turn them off, as it were, so that we can really appreciate the quiet. If we do so, the wild horses of our disordered minds are likely to gallop back again, or the screeching monkeys may well return to the 63.2 2004 Johnstone ¯ Keeping a Balance thickets of our consciousness, and quiet would be no more. In these reflections I am suggesting that the classic fixed distinctions between different forms of prayer may not be so important as they .were once thought to be. I suggest that it would not make a great deal of sense to say to oneself, "I have not yet arrived at the experience of passivity and received the pure gift of contemplation, and so I must continue with active prayer." Nor would the reverse be any better, namely, to convince oneself that one has indeed been given this gift and so to drop active prayer. The best solution, I suggest, would be to accept with St. Teresa (and St. Alphonsus) that some form of active, vocal prayer may quite well go together with contemplation. At root this is what John Main believed: the repetition of the mantra may accompany contemplation. We do not need to be scrutinizing our consciousness so as to find whether contemplation has occurred or not. The prayer of quiet, or gift of contemplation, may be given by God at any moment within that active prayer. We need not be surprised if this happens, and we may welcome it if or when it is given to us. To conclude, the form of meditation in which one repeats a short prayer continuously with the expectation that a prayer of quiet (with a sense of oneness and rest) may supervene has strong roots in the Catholic spiritual tradition. This is true not only of the earlier tradition, where we find Cassian commending this practice, but also of the more recent tradition, as expressed in particular by St. Teresa. The description of prayer in the texts on Christian Meditation does not include a description of contemplation in the classic sense, but who are we to say that the latter may not supervene? It is indeed God's gift--and may be given whenever God chooses to do so. Notes t Ernest E. Larkin OCarm, "Today's Contemplative Prayer Forms," Review for Religious 57 (1998): 83. Review for Religious 2 Larkin, p. 84. 3 Cited in Larkin, p. 78. 4 Larkin, p. 87 n. 12. 5 The Way of Perfection, in Vol. 2 of The Collected Works of St. Teresa of Avila, trans. Kieran Kavanaugh OCD and Otilio Rodriguez OCD (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1980). p. 140. The relevant passages are chaps. 28-29. Hereafter all references to Teresa will be to this work and edition, by chapter and section(s) given in the text thus: (19.1). 6 Larkin, p. 83. 7 Alpbonsus de Liguori: Selected Writings (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1999), p. 170. The putting together of this "active" recollection with "contemplative repose" may seem perplexing. The essential point is that it still involves acting, as distinct from "infused contemplation," where there is no acting on our part. s Alpbonsus, p. 176, citing St. Teresa. 9 Alpbonsus, p. 170. ~0 John Main, The Inner Christ (London: Darton, Longman, and Todd, 1987), p. 203. " Main, p. 205. ~2 Main, pp. 116, 119, 132. '3illpbonscts, p. 171. ,4 Main, p. 22. ,5 Owen Chadwick, John Cassian (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1950), p. 69. ~6 Larkin, p. 81. ~7 1 refer here to the citation from Max Huot de Longchamp, Saint Jean de la Croix: Pour Lire le Docteur Mystique (Paris: Fac-editions, 1991), p. 164, cited by Larkin, p. 87. ~8 See Charles Taylor, The Sources of the Self: The Making of the Modern Identity (Cambridge: Harva~:d University Press, 1989), p. 188. ,9 Larkin, p. 78. 63.2 2004 DENNIS J. BILLY Faith Seeking Understanding: Spiritual Direction's Sapiential Function ~;l~you are a theologian, you will pray in truth; and you pray in truth, you are a theologian." 1 These words of Nilus of Sinai (+450), a 5th-century monk from Ancyra in Asia Minor who lived in the wilderness of Sinai for more than sixty years, remind us of the inti-mate connection between conversing with and under-standing the mystery of God. A true knowledge of God involves an experience of the divine mystery, not simply knowledge about it. Such experiential knowledge comes, not through rational analysis, but from a living rela-tionship with God nourished by prayer. This under-standing of theology emphasizes knowing God by participating in the intimate community of divine love. It values the living reality of God over theological constructions of that reality. That reality is closer to us than we are to our own selveS. We are invited to be pre-sent to God's pr.esence in us. Spiritual direction can help us become present to this reality. It is a divine (but also human) art that helps us "pray in truth" and come to an intimate personal knowledge of God. ._~,, ~ ~,~4_J 2D45e8n;n iRs oJm. Bai l0ly0 1C0S0S; RIt awlyri.tes again from Accademia Alfonsiana; C.P. Review for Religious Praying in Truth The theologian, in Nilus's eyes, is one who knows how to "pray in truth." To do so, we must strip off the old self and put on the new. Only then, by being renewed in the image of our Creator, will we gradually progress toward true knowledge of the divine (see Col 3:9-10). To pray in truth is to pray in Christ, the way, the truth, and the life (see Jn 14:6). Praying in truth means open-ing our hearts and being present to God as we really are. It means not being afraid to look inside ourselves and confront the various masks and self-deceptions we find there. It means bearing our souls to God so that God may bear his soul to us. Intimacy with God first requires intimacy with oneself. We cannot communicate with God in truth if we are unwilling to know the truth about ourselves. Coming to an intimate knowledge of ourselves, how-ever, is no easy task. Most of us cannot go it alone and are in dire need of help. We find facing our inner wants and insecurities much too threatening. Left to our own resources, many of us would end up rationalizing away our fears and discounting our deepest hopes about who we are and want to become. Spiritual direction helps us confront ourselves and open our hearts to God. It gently points out the voice of the Spirit manifested in the nitty-gritty circumstances of our lives. As the prophet Elijah reminds us, often that voice is found, not in whirlwinds, earthquakes, and fires about us, but in the small whisper that can only be heard in the solitude of our hearts (see 1 Kg 19:11-13). Spiritual direction seeks to settle our hearts so that we can rest in this solitude and become ourselves in our faith? Focusing on our conscious and unconscious inter-action with the divine, it helps us to follow the flow of troublesome and often conflicting personal narratives in our life and then to make responsible iudgments about 63.2 2004 Billy * Faith Seeking Understanding what we are being called to. It pays special heed to our prayer life, helping us to discern authentic prayer from its mean and paltry imitation. The goal of spiritual direction is for us to "pray in truth." We receive help to confront ourselves and thereby to discover our authentic voice. That voice alone will lead us to intimacy with God. We must be patient, how-ever, and ever so silent. We must listen to our heart and not be afraid to hear what it has to say. When we speak from the heart, we soon discover the gentle voice of the Spirit yearning within us. To pray in truth is to pray in the Spirit, the re-creative presence of God that hovers over and revives the primal forces within us. We know we are praying in the Spirit when our lives manifest the Spirit's various gifts and fruits (see Is 11:2-3, Ga 5:22-23). Spiritual direction helps identify these spiritual riches and let them do their quiet work within us, the work of gradual divinization, of greater sharing in the eternal love of the Godhead. Solitude of Heart The primary means by which the Spirit accomplishes its task is by nurturing in us a deep desire for solitude. As we empty our hearts of unnecessary attachments, we make room for the divine indwelling. Solitude of heart is the precondition for our experience of the fullness of life. "The glory of God," says Irenaeus of Lyons, "is a liv-ing human being."3 We who are created in the image and likeness of God become ourselves only by allowing God to be himself in us. Spiritual direction helps us open our hearts to the heart of God. It helps us by fostering a contemplative attitude toward life, enabling us to see all that happens in the light of God's providential plan. By offering their directees the hospitality of a lis-tening heart, directors set the tone for all that happens during the session. By being present in silence and with Review for Religious their full attention, directors affirm the seriousness of what is taking place and often form lasting friendships. These bonds spring from their reflective gaze upon the directees' unfolding experiences, from this sharing in their solitude. Three persons share in this solitude of heart: the director, the directee, and the Holy Spirit. In direction, directors and directees gradually turn their attention to this quiet partner in their midst. They discern the signs of the Spirit in the nar-ratives that directees share with their direc-tors. The Spirit leaves traces of its presence in the threads of people's lives. When we look at our lives prayerfully, these slight vestiges gradually become noticed and fit into conscious awareness. This is the time for directors and directees together to interpret these signs so that the directees can respond appropriately. One of these signs is peace. After his resurrection Jesus comforted his disciples with a message of peace that stemmed from his immediate and unquestioning trust in the Father's love (see Lk 24:36, Jn 20:19, 21). Today this same message comes to us through the yearn-ing of the Spirit in our hearts, who intercedes for us to the Lord with unutterable groaning (see Rm 8:26). Directors help their directees to recognize the factors in their life that contribute to peace. Such peace comes not from the world, but by giving ourselves whole-heartedly to the one thing that ultimately matters--the love of God dwelling in our heart. "The paradise of God," says Alphonsus de Liguori, "is the heart of man.''4 The peace of Christ works its The primary means by which the Spirit accomplishes its task is by nurturing in us a deep desire for solitude. Billy ¯ Faith Seeking Understanding way outward from within. Rooted in the love of the Lord, it eventually finds outward expression in our striv-ing to form right relationships with others on every level of human society (such as family, country, community of nations). Peace, "the tranquillity of order" as Augustine of Hippo refers to it, possesses personal, com-munal, and transcendent dimensions.5 For us to find it in our lives, solitude of heart is necessary. Spiritual direc-tion, in turn, is an important instrument given us by God to help in that discovery. Faith Seeking Understanding If theologians are persons who pray in truth, spiritual direction facilitates such prayer. Theology, we are told, "denotes. far more than the learning about God and religious doctrine acquired through academic study. It signifies active and conscious participation in or percep-tion of the realities of the divine world--in other words, the realization of spiritual knowledge.''6 To be even more specific, theology has to do with our attempt to reflect upon our experience of the indwelling of the Trinity in our hearts. When seen in this light, the classical Western understanding of theology as "faith seeking understand-ing" (tides quaerens intellectum)--which was developed by Anselm of Canterbury under the influence of the Latin Vulgate and Augustine of Hippo--needs to be rescued from the overrationalizing of later centuries and exam-ined in relation to acquiring Christian wisdom.7 When understood as a sapiential (as opposed to a narrowly ratio-nal) enterprise, theology's true task comes to the fore. All of us are called to reflect upon the meaning of our lives in the light of the gospel message. To accom-plish this task well, we must reflect on the experience of God in our hearts and try to ascertain what exactly is being asked of us. When understood sapientially, theol-ogy as "faith seeking understanding" tries to discern the Review for Religious movement of the Spirit in our lives so that we can bet-ter understand how to live out our call to discipleship in mature and responsible ways. Spiritual direction is an important place for acquiring spiritual wisdom. It helps us talk to God, listen to him, and engage in discernment that leads to deeper intimacy with him. Spiritual direction achieves this goal whenever there is an honest, sharing relationship between the two per-sons. This relationship, while complex and manifold, focuses primarily on the relationship of the directee with God. Directors help directees to understand their inter-action with God better and then to draw closer to God. This process is both challenging and consoling. Directors challenge directees to be honest and to identify areas for future growth. They also need to comfort directees in times of discouragement and imminent loss. Knowing when to exercise this dual role of challenge and comfort is one of the primary skills that directors need to have. Faith seeking understanding in spiritual direction calls for directors to have flexibility and strength. They need to adapt to changing times and circumstances and to withstand the adverse challenges that may occur. The fruits of the process become evident. To believe as one searches for meaning in life leads to a deeper under-standing of one's life situation, of one's relationship with oneself, with others, and with God. Spiritual direction, in its many forms, seeks to empower us to affirm our faith and in the process become ourselves more fully. Becoming Holy Becoming ourselves in our faith is but another way of speaking about our desire for holiness. Spiritual direction is not simply a matter of gaining greater insight into our relationship with God. It has very much to do with turn-ing those insights into concrete practices that lead fur-ther along the path of conversion. These practices must 63.2 2004 Billy ¯ Faitb Seeking Understanding Becoming ourselves in our faith is but another way of speaking about our desire for holiness. not be imposed from without; they must arise from within. They must correspond to a true assessment of our needs based on insights that spiritual direction has facilitated. A truly wise person is also a holy person, and vice versa. According to Thomas Aquinas, wisdom is the gift of the Spirit that corresponds to and is guided by and is a perfec-tion of charity.8 The sapi-ential function of spiritual direction leads us beyond simply knowing God to loving and serving him. "Faith seeking understand-ing" through spiritual direction leads not only to insights into divine things, but also to incorporating those insights into the way we live our daily lives. This close relationship between "being" and "action" is important for the sapiential function of spiritual direc-tion. The virtuous actions performed by people striving to be virtuous contribute to making them even more vir-tuous. When directees ask their director what they should do, they are ultimately asking about what kind of person they themselves wish to become. When prop-erly exercised, spiritual direction helps people see this important connection and encourages them to make "communion with God" the motivating force of all of their actions. Living in communion with God is another term for becoming holy. It is a primary concern of the direction process, helping people become themselves in their life of faith. As an element of "faith seeking understanding," spir-itual direction seeks to help us not only to discern but also to act. By far the most important thing any of us can ever do is pray. Prayer is "the great means of salva- Review for Religious tion.''9 Our manner of prayer--its frequency, its form, its content--is and should always remain a vital subject in spiritual direction. During direction we need to ask if our prayer addresses every dimension of our human makeup: the physical, emotional, intellectual, social, and spiritual.~° With the help of our director, we should try to identify what we may be neglecting in prayer and make appropriate changes. How we pray says a great deal about our own self-understanding and our rela-tionship with God. By examining our prayer carefully for ways to improve it, we demonstrate our love for God and our longing for holiness. Spiritual direction helps us to understand and prac-tice true prayer. It accompanies us on the way to self-knowledge and invites us to deeper intimacy with God. Such experiential knowledge transcends the conceptual world of the professional theologian. By it we share consciously in God's love and develop an intuitive aware-ness of the mind of God. By helping us to "pray in truth," spiritual direction assists our understanding and enables us to become ourselves in our faith, to live in the Spirit, to grow in wisdom and in the knowledge of God, to grow in charity throughout our lives. By help-ing us listen to the movement of the Spirit in our hearts and respond wisely and generously, spiritual direction enables us to see the world around us with something of God's zealous compassion, God's .intense longing to dwell in the hearts of us all. Notes 1 Nilus of Sinai, IY3 Texts on Prayer, no. 61 in Early Fathers from the Philokalia, trans. E. Kadloubovsky and G.E.H. Palmer (London: Faber and Faber, 1954), p. 134. 2 See Jean Laplace, The Direction of Conscience, trans. John C. Guinness (New York: Herder and Herder, 1967), p. 26. 3 Irenaeus of Lyons, Against the Heresies 4.20.7, in Vol. 1 of The Ante-Nicene Fathers, ed. Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1925), p. 490. 63.2 2004 Billy * Faith Seeking Understanding 4 Alphonsus de Liguori, The Way to Converse Always and Familiarly with God, in Vol. 2 of The Complete Works of Saint Alphonsus de Liguori, ed. Eugene Grimm (Brooklyn: Redemptorist Fathers, 1926), p. 395. s Augustine of Hippo, The City of God 19.13, in Vol. 2 of The Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, ed. Philip Schaff (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1903), pp. 409-410. 6 The Philokalia: The Complete Text, ed. and trans. G.E.H. Palmer, Philip Sherrard, and Kallistos Ware (London: Faber and Faber, 1981), Vol. 2, p. 389. 7 See Anselm of Canterbury, The Proslogion, chap. 1, in Vol. 1 of Anselm of Canterbury, ed. and trans. Jasper Hopkins and Herbert W. Richardson (Toronto and New York: Edwin Mellen Press, 1974), pp. 91-93; Biblia sacra vulgata, ed. Robert Weber (Stuttgart: Wiirttembergische Bibelanstalt, 1969), Vol. 2, p. 1103 (Is 7:9); Augustine of Hippo, On the Trinity 8.5.8, in Vol. 3 of The Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, ed. Philip Schaff (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1900), pp. 119-120. ~ See Thomas Aquinas, Summa theologiae, I-II, q.68, a.8; II-II, q.45, in Vol. 20 of Great Books of the Western World, ed. Robert Maynard Hutchins (Chicago: Encyclopaedia Britannica, 1952), pp. 95-96, 598- 606. 9 Alphonsus de Liguori, Prayer, The Great Means of Salvation, in Vol. 3 of Complete Works (1927), p. 23. 10 See Dennis J. Billy, Evangelical Kernels: A Theological Spirituality of the Religious Life (Staten Island: Alba House, 1993), pp. 167-184. Gift I am stunned by the gift you gave me. Not a sun or stars, not the sea or a pebble rounded to perfection. Not even forgiveness, although this was wrapped into the gift. You gave me love. Some day I may regard your gift indifferently, as something I deserve. For now, I know nothing but astonishment. Patricia Chaffee OP Review for Religious GEORGE ASCHENBRENNER Windows of the Soul: Walter Ciszek SJ T e eyes are often windows into the soul. A mother ows this as she gazes quietly into the eyes of her newborn child, dreaming and hoping about its future. Lovers and friends know this too. Gazing into each other's eyes opens a whole world, wide and deep beyond words. Most of us are unaware of how revelatory our eyes are. The grumpiness of discontented people lurks in their eyes for anyone to see. So, too, the limpid kindness of truly guileless people sparkles in their eyes. Yes, in many instances our eyes are windows into the soul. In fact, our eyes convey more and deeper messages as we grow through life. Forty years ago,. on 12 October 1963, BOAC flight #501 from London landed right on time at 6:55 a.m. A man in his late fifties wearing a heavy green overcoat shuffled down the stairway from the plane. A big floppy Russian hat concealed a lot of his face. But, under the brim of that hat, like beacons of a profoundly wise soul, George Aschenbrenner SJ has written for this journal every couple of years since 1966. His current address is Campion Hall; University of Scranton; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18510. r~l!4~a --- ~ 63.2 2004 Ascbenbrenner ¯ Windows of rise Soul two lively grayish-blue eyes greeted sights not seen for twenty-seven years. At least ten years before, his Jesuit brothers in the New York Province had offered for him the customary two Masses for deceased Jesuits. Now Father Walter Ciszek of the Society of Jesus had risen from the dead. Those dancing guileless eyes, those soul-beacons, told a stoW immediately that it would take years to get into words: two books written painstakingly with the gracious competent help of Father Dan Flaherty, a brother Jesuit. But, if you ever had the chance to meet Father Ciszek, you got the whole stoW in those eyes. My experience of Walter was that those lively eyes, those bottomless wells of love, joy, and humble confidence, conveyed more than any hand gestures ever could. Dramatic gesturing was not his way of communicating. Like a diamond those eyes sparkled with a wisdom, a peace, a humble confidence, but first and foremost a startling freedom. On that October day at New York's Idlewild airport, Father Walter was free, free from KGB surveillance, free from restriction on his priestly min-istry, free from the brittle cold, free from his starvation diet, free from the threat of death at almost any moment. But freedom was something he had known truly and profoundly for the last twenty-one years--ever since that time in the dreaded Lubianka prison, a time that marked his soul for the rest of his life, a time that he would never forget. (It was a soul-changing experience, too, for oth-ers when they met him: something smiled in and leapt out of those eyes to greet you.) Early in his captivity, solitary confinement and intense interrogations night and day were wearing him down. Knowing he was not guilty of the espionage charges, he thought that all he had to do was explain this clearly and definitely to his questioners. But a combination of forces--first the repeated questionings like a pile driver hammering into Review for Religious his head and heart and then the cold deaf ear to his labored and elaborately explicit defense--became too much for him. He gave up. He quit. He signed an admis-sion of his guilt--just to get it over with. Back in his cell, however, and all by himself again, it hit him. He had given in to free himself of this harass-ment of his soul. His motive had been selfish, filled with ego, and had lost much awareness of God's love and care. He felt ashamed and confounded. In that disheartened state of mind, though, he felt relief that, during the fif-teen years of hard labor in Siberia to which he had been sentenced, at least the solitary confinement and the mad-dening questions would stop. This relief was short-lived. Soon he was told that there would be four more years at Lubianka to "clarify" some of the issues to which he had confessed. The deaf-ening, soul-splitting interrogation began again. It seemed more than he could handle. What he had hoped to get out of by signing the paper was beginning all over again. An overwhelming despair descended upon him, a loss of hope and faith. He felt absolutely helpless. He was at rock bottom. You and I have sometimes felt helpless; we know that even brief moments of helplessness are fear-some. But most of us have never plumbed the depths to which he fell at that moment, all alone, in Lubianka. But, at this moment of feeling bankruptcy of soul, at this lowest point in his whole life, something happened. He stepped across a boundary line. No, to be more exact, he did not step across: he was lifted across. In that moment of despair, he remembered an olive grove some two thousand years ago. Jesus, Son of Mary and Son of God, having chosen to be faithful to his identity and mis-sion in the face of looming certain death, had collapsed in helplessness, had hit rock bottom (Mk 14:32-42). Through his surrender, through his self-abandon-ment, Jesus was rescued, he was freed. The impending 63.2 20O4 Aschenbrenner * Windows of the Soul Walter Ciszek's contemplation of Jesus" agony in the garden gave new meaning to his own despairing helplessness. horrific suffering and death were not taken away, but something shifted deep inside. A freedom, a humble con-fidence, lifted his soul because the eyes of a dearly loving, caring Father were still gazing on him, even in his utter helplessness. In fact, now he knew it in some new way: no depth of helplessness could ever be beyond the loving, life-giving gaze of those eyes. Those eyes, there in Gethsemane, both looked deep into his soul and also revealed a bottomless love and care deeper than any doubt or frustration. Walter Ciszek's contemplation of Jesus' agony in the garden--a prayer that just came upon him, he did not reach out for it--gave new meaning to his own despair-ing helplessness. As in the case of Jesus, Father Ciszek's fear was transformed into freedom, and his feelings of danger and despair became confidence and happiness. Now nothing seemed to worry or trouble him anymore. At an apparent depth of no return, he had learned that God would never leave him, but would take care of him even if he were killed. Astonishing, simply amazingm talk about a new heart and a new freedom! He could say with St. Paul: "I am ready for anything through the strength of the One who lives within me" (Ph 4:13). That prayer along with Jesus in the garden marked Walter Ciszek for life right into eternity. He would never forget that prayer. Yes, Walter Ciszek became profoundly free in Lubianka twenty-one years before he stepped off a plane in the United States. The Word of God had leapt off the page anew in the person, the presence, the eyes of the Review for Religious risen Jesus. Now nothing he did, nowhere he was taken, nothing that happened to him, absolutely nothing could separate Walter Ciszek from the risen Jesus. In his own agony of despair and helplessness, he had been gifted with a very special awareness of God's love. This gave him an invincible trust, whatever the future might hold. Nothing could really hurt him now because he was in God's loving hands, more than he had ever realized before. Yes, the eyes are windows into the soul. But the eyes of holiness are also reflectors. Holiness reflects the radi-ance of Someone Else's loving eyes. Just as Jesus knew the gaze of a dear Father's eyes, Walter Ciszek experi-enced God's loving gaze in the depths of his despair and helplessness. That same loving gaze blesses us all, each and every one, with a freedom and a trust that does not take all suffering out of our lives, but does enliven our hearts, our souls, and our eyes. It is no surprise that, whenever my friends and I met Father Ciszek, we felt we were meeting more than just that courageous, peaceful little man. Those lively, gray-ish- blue, dancing eyes were windows glistening with the wisdom, the freedom, the love of his soul. Those eyes mirrored the steady gaze of Jesus' love--a love that moti-vated everything Walter Ciszek did, a love that got him through fifteen years of undeserved hard labor in prison and five years of undeserved solitary confinement, a love that burned in his soul and left him unscarred by bitter-ness, anger, revenge. The eyes of Walter Ciszek told the story of his soul, a story of courageous love in incredible suffering and of invincible trust against all odds, because the most impor-tant story of love always glistens in the eyes of the risen Jesus. 6~.2 2004 mentoring FRED HERRON Merton and a Spirituality for Millennials Young people who grew up in the late 20th cen-tury, sometimes called millennials, easily relate to Thomas Merton as someone not entirely comfortable in any one place. Like him, they find it hard to root themselves in one "abiding place.''1 They are more comfortable describing themselves as "spiritual" rather than "religious." For them the paradigm shift that Merton illu-minated in his lifetime seems a dramatic release from the moorings of the stable past and an optimistic embarkation on a journey. By high-lighting such a change in his life and thought, Merton managed to offer direction and some cautions to those who would follow. Dwelling and Seeking Robert Wuthnow has argued convincingly that a major change took place in the spiritual Fred Herron is chairperson of the religious-studies depart-ment at Fontbonne Hall Academy and a member of the Department of Theology and Religious Studies at St. John's University, Staten Island. He may be addressed at Fonthonne Hall Academy; 9901 Shore Road; Brooklyn, New York 11209. Review.for Religious practice of the last half of the 20th century. He suggests that "a traditional spirituality of inhabiting sacred places has given way to a new spirituality of seeking." He con-trasts these two viewpoints this way: "A spirituality of dwelling emphasizes habitation: God occupies a definite place in the universe and creates a sacred space in which humans too can dwell." On the other hand, "a spiritual-ity of seeking emphasizes negotiation: individuals search for sacred moments that reinforce their conviction that the divine exists, but these moments are fleeting.''z Both forms of spirituality have found their place in the history of religions, and the world religions have sup-plied rich imagery for both. Wuthnow points out that, "in settled times, people have been able to create a sacred habitat and to practice habitual forms of spirituality. [However,] in unsettled times, they have been forced to negotiate with themselves and with each other to find the sacred." Settled times evoke an imagery of dwelling, and unsettled times one of journeys. In the former, "the sacred is fixed, and spirituality can be found within the gathered body of God's people; in the latter, the sacred is fluid, portable, and spirituality must be pursued with a sense of God's people having been dispersed.''3 A habitation spirituality is suggested by the Garden of Eden and a land of milk and honey. A spirituality of seeking, on the other hand, is illustrated by the taber-nacle and the tents of pilgrims and travelers. The first form can be seen in the secure routine of the monastery, the cloister, while the latter is seen as an ongoing journey. The story of the Shulamite woman draws the dis-tinction between these two spiritualities. At first she revels in the security of her spiritual home: "Our bed is green, the beams of our houses are cedar, and the rafters of fir" (Sg 1:16-17). Later, however, she wanders, seek-ing the warmth she has lost: "I will rise now., and go 63.2 2004 Herron ¯ Mertion and a Spirituality for Millennials about the city. In the streets and in the squares, I will seek the one I love" (Sg 3:2). Merton's metaphors of the "citadel" and of the "wide, impregnable country" point to similar visions.4 Note that both are images of security, but the former suggests secu-rity and the latter.openness and freedom. In the citadel there is isolation from others, whereas in the wide coun-try there is room for an indefinite number of people seeking God. A spirituality of dwelling seems to be more secure, while a spirituality of seeking seems less constraining. Both offer freedom, but quite different kinds of free-dom. Familiar places offer the freedom of not having to worry where the next meal is coming from, since both caring people and known resources are available. Anne Truitt describes this experience as "the lighthearted feel-ing of being in a litter of kittens.''5 That understanding of freedom is comparable to not worrying about achiev-ing any particular objective, that is, not feeling "bound by an inexorable result [but being] like the birds or lilies ¯. without care." 6 Seeking and Freedom The fifth volume of Thomas Merton's letters, VVitness to Freedom, suggests that there are three stages in his understanding of the growing freedom that is central to a spirituality of seeking.7 In Merton's youth, freedom meant doing whatever he pleased. The second stage came with his entrance into the monastery of Gethsemani in 1941. Merton recalls that, when Brother Matthew met him at the monastery gate, led him through that gate, and then locked it, "I was enclosed in the four walls of my new freedom." s This was the freedom of the citadel, the freedom to do what he was told and to keep the rules. Freedom here became obedience, one portion of the monastic Rule. Review for Religious Keeping the rules is central to both of these stages. In the first, the rules are the problem. In the second, the rules are the solution to the problem. The third stage led Merton to view freedom in a very different light: freedom as an inner reality guided much more from within than from without. In con-templation, Merton realized, we meet God, and in meeting God we discover our deepest freedom. People achieve this third level of freedom, a sense in which their deepest selves are in God and express God, to the extent that they rid themselves of the illu-sions that distort reality for them.9 Merton wrote to Jacques Maritain of these illusions: "There are great illusions to be got ridden of, and there is a false self that has to be taken off. There is still much to be changed before I will really be living in the truth and in nothingness and in humility and without any more self-concern." 10 The road to true freedom is strewn with idols: the false god, the false self, and the false image of God's crea-tures. A false vision of God causes us to see God as one among many, not as absolute, the Hidden Ground of Love, from whom all things come and in whom all things are sustained.ll From this arises the false self, for, instead of being an image of the true God, the self tends to become an image of the false god. Finally, to be fully free, we need to be liberated from the illusions that mark our relationships with other human beings and with the rest of God's creation. What, then, is the freedom that Thomas Merton con-siders essential to this spirituality of seeking? It is the freedom to choose the good and not to choose "freely" In contemplation, Merton realized, we meet God, and in meeting God we discover our deepest freedom. 63.2 2004 Herron ¯ Merton and a Spirituality for Millennials between two realities such as good and evil. Merton argues that "the free man is the one whose choices have given him the power to stand on his own feet and deter-mine his own life according to the higher light and spirit that are in him.''12 He says: "The mere ability to choose between good and evil is the lowest limit of freedom, and the only thing that is free about it is the fact that we can still choose good. To the extent that you are free to choose evil, you are not free. An evil choice destroys freedom . Perfect spiritual freedom is a total inabil-ity to make any evil choice." 13 St. Benedict's Rule and the Spirituality of Seeking The contrast between a spirituality of habitation and a spirituality of seeking is evident in the 6th-century Rule of St. Benedict. The Cistercian monk takes three vows: stability, obedience, and conversatio. Stability emphasizes setdedness, a "permanent and lifelong attach-ment to the monastery of one's profession." 14 Conversatio connotes the changeable life of the spirit. It is "a com-mitment to live faithfully in unsettled times and to keep one's life sufficiently unsettled to respond to the chang-ing voice of God." ~5 It involves a commitment to con-stant progress in virtue. The monk can never say that he has done enough. It is "the vow to respond totally and integrally to the word of Christ, 'Come, follow me,' by renouncing all that might impede one in following him untrammeled, all that might obscure one's clarity of intent and confuse one's resolve."16 As such, it is a source of peace. Peace comes when there is a "willingness to renounce our petty selves and find our true selves beyond ourselves in others, and above all in Christ." 17 Obedience here suggests a commitment to both sta-bility and conversatio. This is an obedience to God in all things. The monk uses this obedience as a means to grow closer to God. It is the obedience of faith in the context Review for Religious of love and discipleship. The wisdom of St. Bernard is that dwelling and seeking, stability and conversatio, are both part of what it means to be human.18 The desire for a dwelling, for a citadel or fortress of solitude, is evi-dent in the fact that people associate God with churches, synagogues, and temples. It is intimated by the feelings that are aroused by memories of the house in which we were raised or by the uprooting we feel when we need to move. A human habitat takes on sacred meaning, becom-ing a home that has a "heart and a soul," an abode that can be lived in with grace and in "the power of bene-dictions." 19 Merton spoke about Gethsemani, especially in his early years there, as a "sign of Christ.''2° Thomas Merton and a Generation of Seekers Americans live in increasingly complex and perilous times. We face conditions that appear to be spinning wildly out of control--terrorism, environmental pollu-tion, worldwide hunger and poverty, AIDS, crime. A spir-ituality of dwelling may appeal to many people, especially when reli-gious leaders promise secure space in which to worship God in famil-iar ways. For some, the purpose of any congre-gation will be to pro-vide a haven amidst the uncertainties of modern times. A spirituality of seeking, however, will appeal to more of the American people, precisely because it lets them choose their own understandings and their own ways of worshiping. For them, the believing community is less a haven than a supplier of spiritual goods and services. Neither style is entirely satisfactory. Both arise out of our conversation with our past. While earlier genera- The believing community is less a haven than a supplier of spiritual goods and services. 63.2 2004 Herron ¯ Merton and a Spirituality for Millennials tions found some peace and security in a spirituality of inhabiting, later ones take pride in being on a spiritual journey. This shift has roots in our immigrant history.21 Until the beginning of World War II, when Thomas Merton entered the monastery at Gethsemani, ethnic groups were still influenced largely by their immigrant experience. They had come looking for a better life. Together they built institutions. They came in search of both physical and spiritual homes. After the war they worked feverishly at the task of building new houses. Levittown came to symbolize that desire, and the Cold War represented a threat to that dream. The decade of the 1950s was to be an ending as well as a beginning in that regard. The world has changed substantially since the pres-idency of Dwight Eisenhower. Change has become a general condition of every part of modern life. The 1950s gave way to an era of racial unrest, political turmoil, and environmental havoc. The children of the 1960s seemed out of control and all too willing to question authority. That changing world is the world that Thomas Merton inhabited and somewhat came to personify. But the later Merton was firmly rooted in the earlier one. That is, his willingness to stand on his own two feet was not the mark of a radical individualist undertaking a ruggedly individualistic spiritual journey. Rather, it was the mark of a "free" human being dedicated to living faithfully in unsettled times as a person firmly in "one dear perpetual place." Stability, for Merton, was rooted in his relationship to his monastic family and his work within the monastery. It was the dedication of one who had come to grips with the allure of worldliness and won, leaving it behind in search of greener pastures. Merton was not claiming an "abiding place," for the Spirit of God did not let him put a mere place above the call of fidelity. His commitment was not simply to a commu- Review for Religious nity, but ultimately to the God who told him, "Come, follow me." A portion of Merton's enduring legacy to the mil-lennial generation rests precisely in his understanding of the Rule of St. Benedict. He cautions the next gener-ation about undertaking a journey for its own sake or in search of illusory goals. Better to live firmly in a com-munity that demands your constant focus on growth. If that involves a journey, so be it. But the journey, the "road trip," is not an end in itself. It needs to serve a greater truth. The challenge of conversatio for today's young people is to be constantly open to going where God takes them and not where the illusory goals of a consumer culture or a warrior culture might lead them. The call of obedience is to cling tightly to God and to the gift of true discipleship. Like the gyre that William Butler Yeats describes in his poem "The Second Coming," Merton struggled in his personal life and on his spiritual journey to find a way for the center to hold, to find a way toward some form of final integration[ The point where stability and conversatio meet was, for him, in obedience. Obedience holds both together, insisting that both are essentials in the spiritual life. Merton not only illuminates the dra-matic upheavals of our recent past, but points a way to our future. Notes ~ Dean Hoge, William Dinges, Mary Johnson SNDdeN, and Juan Gonzales, Young Adult Catholics: Religion in the Culture of Choice (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2001); James L. Heft SM and James D. Davidson, "The Mission of Catholic High School and Today's Millennials: Three Suggestions," Catholic Education 6 (June 2003): 410-422; T.P. Waiters, "Millennial Youth: Facts, Figures, and Priestly Vocations," in T.P. Waiters and B. Crawford, eds., The Millennial Generation: Hearing God's Call (St. Meinrad, Indiana: Abbey Press, 2001), pp. 15-25; and James D. Davidson et al., The Search for Common Ground: What Unites and Divides American Catholics (Huntington, Indiana: Our Sunday Visitor, 1999). 63.2 2004 Herron ¯ Merton and a Spirituality for Millennials 2 Robert Wuthnow, After Heaven: Spirituality in America since the 19YOs (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998), pp. 3-4. 3 Wuthnow, After Heaven, p. 4. 4 Donald Grayston, Thomas Merton's Rewriting: The Five Versions of Seeds/New Seeds of Contemplation as a Key to the Development of His Thought (New York: Edwin Mellen Press, 1985), p. 371. See also Thomas Merton, The Seven Storey Mountain (New York: Harcourt, Brace, 1948), p. 33. s Anne Truitt, Daybook, the Journal of an Artist (New York: Pantheon Books, 1982), p. 22. 6 Thomas Merton, "Elias--Variations on a Theme," in his The Strange Islands (New York: New Directions, 1959), p. 233. 7 Thomas Merton, Witness to Freedom: The Letters of Thomas Merton in Times of Crisis (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1994). 8 Merton, Seven Storey Mountain, p. 372. 9 Thomas Merton, Turning toward the World: The Pivotal Years, Vol. 4 of The Journals of Thomas Merton (HarperSanFrancisco, 1996), p. 146. ~0 Thomas Merton, The Courage for Truth: The Letters of Tbomas Merton to Writers (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1993), p. 39. ~1 Thomas Merton, The Hidden Ground of Love: Letters of Thomas Merton on Religious Experience and Social Concerns (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1985), p. 452. ,2 Thomas Merton, The New Man (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Cudahy, 1961), pp. 178-179. 13 Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation (New York: New Directions, 1962), p. 199. 14 Thomas Merton, The Monastic Journey (Kansas City: Andrews and McMeel, 1977), pp. 66-68. is Wuthnow, After Heaven, p. 6. ~6 Merton, Monastic Journey, p. 110. 17 Merton, Monastic Journey, p. 40. ~8 Timothy Fry, ed., The Rule of Saint Benedict (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1982); Brian C. Taylor, Spirituality for Everyday Living: An Adaptation of the Rule of Saint Benedict (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1989); Joan Chittister, Wisdom Distilled from the Daily: Living the Rule of Saint Benedict Today (New York: HarperCollins, 1991), Eviatar Zerubavel, Hidden Rhythms: Schedules and Calendars in Social Life (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1981). 19 Mark Twain, cited in Witold Rybczynski, The Most Beautiful House in the World (New York: Penguin Books, 1989), p. 171. Review for Religious 20 Michael Mott, The Seven Mountains of Thomas Merton (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1984), p. 208. 2, Oscar Handlin, The Uprooted (New York: Little, Brown, 1951). Class Reunion The women, this fiftieth June after June Graduations, have buried the men: at this Table for ten, there are two husbands, Their two wives, a nun, and a quintet Of well-dressed, well-coiffed survivors, Not one a mere relict, but all Junoesque, Carrying Junoesque handbags at arms" ends. The nun carries nothing. The pair of men Draw together, only to be drawn apart Again by the women who treasure their presence: All that is left as stand-ins for the children. Amiably passed from widow to widow and back To spouse, they are lost, hosts at a table With too many partners, until saved, saved By the nun whose last name no one can Remember, sistering them with shy veiled Smiles, her innocence bridging the gap Between that June and this, seeming fifty Years younger than all the rest. The banquet Is served . Could Sister please bless? Nancy G. Westerfield 63.2 2004 LAURA SWAN Paradox in the Monastery: Lessons from Two Ammas Mwost of us have grown up with family stories that e have "always" been "familiar" with. This is oral tradition. Certain stories get told over and over, recalling the colorful, poignant, even troubling members and events of our families and congregations. Stories are retold among friends, families, and religious communities because the memory of them touches us deeply. They tell us something of who we are and where we have been. Stories unpack the mystery of the present and give us guidance into the future. We pass particular stories on because they have shaken something awake within us and we desire to share this awareness with others. We want to remember the lessons learned. Vowed religious remember stories retold about religious over the centuries along with the stories of their own monasteries and congregations. Which stories are dusted off and retold (and embellished) often says much about who we are and what we struggle with. Stories contain and sustain our cultural values. They assist in Laura Swan OSB, author of The Forgotten Desert Mothers, is prioress of St. Placid Priory; 500 College Street N.E.; Lacey, Washington 98516. Web page www.stplacid.org, and email to lswan@stplacid.org. Review for Religious passing on the traditions of our monasteries, congre-gations, faith communities, and families. In the desert of the early Christian movement, stories were collected, remembered, and passed on. Even today stories preserve the memory and teachings of the desert ascetics, the ammas and abbas who lived at the beginning of Christian monasticism. They sought the desert, a place of intense solitude, in order to focus their pursuit of the Holy One with single-minded devotion and limited distractions. Their goal was union with God. These stories formed an early oral tradition now known as Sayings (apothegms, apophtheg~nata). Side by side with this movement into the desert was a movement toward an evolving Christian monasticism. The desert ascetics were often associated with monastic communities. Eremitic communities were little more than groups of cells in the desert where the seekers occasionally met for teaching, prayer, and exhortation. There was no standard monasticism at this period. Religious life was quite diverse in all its expressions; every monastic community had its own rule and traditions. Two leading figures in the development of monasticism in Egypt were Pachomius (ca. 282-346) of Tabennisi in upper Egypt and Shenoute (ca. 348-464) of Atripe, also in upper Egypt. Writings of their followers, often called Lives, give us insight into the struggles and aspirations of early religious life and of Christianity itself. Many stories from the desert reflect the tensions of diverse expressions of Christianity and tensions between those seeking to articulate statements of belief, as in the Arian and Trinitarian controversies. The Holy Drunken Woman I would like to look at two stories. They confront us with paradox, and their themes are repeated in other stories from the desert) As the first story goes, on the feast 63.2 2004 Swan * Paradox in the Monastery of Abba Apollo, Abba Daniel went to the Upper Thebaid, visiting first the monastic community of men and then the monastic community of women. The community of three hundred women was called the Monastery of Abba Jeremiah, led by a "mother archimandrite.''2 In this story the women "violate" the tradition of not permitting men in their monastery in order to welcome a particularly venerated and beloved elder of the desert. In the tradition of desert hospitality, these monastic women welcome Abba Daniel and his companion into their monastery chapel and wash their feet. The women then bless themselves with the water used. Then they ask for a blessing and a word of teaching or exhortation. As the women seek a wise word from Abba Daniel--a common trait of desert stories--the scene shifts to an anonymous member of the women's monastery who remained away from the rest of the community. This anonymous nun believed to be drunk is asleep in the forecourt of the church, wearing clothing that is in shreds. Abba Daniel asks the mother archimandrite who this nun is, and he is told: "She's a drunk and we don't know what to do with her; we're afraid to take the responsibility of throwing her out of the monastery, and if we let her stay she demoralizes the sisters." 3 The community then redirects Abba Daniel to their refectory for a shared meal. Interestingly we are told that the women served the men simple vegetarian fare while they themselves ate well. When Abba Daniel inquires about this seeming disparity and violation of hospitality, the mother archimandrite responds: "You are a monk, and I served you a monk's food. Your disciple is a monk's disciple, and I served him a disciple's food. We, however, are novices, and we ate novices' food.''4 By example the women have exalted the venerable teacher by lowering themselves in an eccentric yet enticing paradox. Before leaving, Abba Daniel again concerns himself Review for Religious with the "drunken" nun, who was seen sleeping by the toilets. The men had been watching her. As the monastery retired for sleep, the woman rose and stood in a position of tearful supplication or prostrated herself in contrition. Whenever a nun came out to use the toilet, she would throw herself on the ground and snore. Abba Daniel calls the mother archimandrite, who joins him in observing this behavior. Realizing that the nun is merely feigning drunkenness and remembering her own mistreatment of her, the mother archimandrite confesses her own sin with deep conviction and contrition. When the "drunken" nun realizes that she has been discovered, she cleverly steals Abba Daniel's cowl and staff and disappears into the desert. The story concludes with Abba Daniel and the mother archimandrite declaring the "drunken" nun to be one of God's hidden servants. The woman rose and stood in a position of tearful supplication or prostrated herself in contrition. The Woman Who Feigned Madness From Palladius we learn of a women's monastery at Tabennisi in which a member feigned madness and demon possession.5 She was treated with contempt, and the other nuns avoided her company. This "mad" nun voluntarily worked at the most menial jobs in the kitchen. She wore a rag on her head while other members cropped their hair short and wore a cowl. She ate the scraps and leftovers only. She was never angry and never grumbled; she rarely spoke--all in the midst of being treated with contempt. She was insulted, cursed, and loathed by the other nuns. 63.2 2004 Swan ¯ Paradox in the Monastery An angel appears to Abba Piteroum, another venerated desert ascetic, inviting him to meet someone more holy then he, and a mere woman at that! The angel sends him to Tabennisi with a challenge: This woman is continually mistreated by her community and yet never takes her heart off God, while our venerable abba dwells in his cell yet wanders about the cities in his mind--a theme found throughout desert teachings, including the Sayings ofAmma Syncletica.6 For his angelic lesson, Abba Piteroum arrives at the women's monastery to see this holy woman, whom the nuns call "touched." She resists meeting him, but is physically forced into his presence. He immediately recognizes her as spiritually mature by an intuition of mind and heart. He falls at her feet seeking her blessing, and she responds by falling at his feet seeking his blessing, both vying to express their humility. The nuns are aghast. Abba Piteroum declares the touched nun to be the community's true spiritual mother. The nuns recognize the truth of his words and immediately begin to confess their mistreatment of this unknown amma and elder. Now elevated to "venerable," she cannot tolerate the place of honor and disappears from the community-- another common theme of the desert. The Paradox Most of us have experienced difficult people--in our congregations and monasteries, in our professional lives, in our faith communities and families. These are the people who know our buttons and hooks well. They have an innate ability to stir up our anger and impatience and frustration. These are the people who can make day-to-day living exasperating and an exercise in profound patience. Our inner reactions to these difficult people tell us more about ourselves than we care to admit. They gift us with all this opportunity for asceticism--and are Review for Religious usually quite unaware of it. While our history as religious seekers and as vowed religious includes eras of health-damaging fasts, hair shirts and nail beds, my Irish forebears standing for long periods in freezing cold water, and whips--these are all self-imposed ascetical practices of dubious value. These false ascetical practices betray our neo-Pelagian and neo- Jansenist hearts.7 Desert ascetics remind us that life hands us authentic asceticism: meetings, deadlines, "smallness" of income in the midst of aging, the ministrations that frail members call for, authority and obedience in tension in our individualistic culture, and difficult community members. Families have difficulty building and sustaining relationships in a culture that undermines those values and commitments. Desert ascetics sought to The desert tradition was intended to force the seeker to face self without distractions, illusions, or barriers. disappear, taking their wisdom with them. We know that the greater challenge is to build healthy communities and a healthy church. To us it seems the easier thing to disappear, to seek hiddenness. Yet the desert tradition was intended to force the seeker to face self without distractions, illusions, or barriers. Today's desert ascetics are, first and foremost, students of the desert and the spiritual difficulty encountered there. The desert teaches them self-knowledge and self-awareness. It teaches them to listen deeply and intensely. Daily they come to know a bit better who they are before God. While growing in awareness of who they are and who they are not, they detach themselves from reputation and any need to 63.2 2004 Swan ¯ Paradox in the Monastery defend themselves from those who may attack it. In the old and colorful stories, ascetics go beyond detachment from reputation to distancing themselves from others in order to live alone for God. We savor these stories because they invite us to multiple meanings, because they do not allow us a simplistic answer. Contemporary religious life recognizes--and painfully grows more aware of---fragile, disturbed, and disrupting members. Our call is to handle these troubling members wisely and compassionately, and at times firmly. We try to minimize the disruptions that wounded unruly members are capable of; we listen and ask ourselves what they are here to teach us. Often the stories we have retained and repeat pertain to the graced insights we have been given, the humor and lessons we have learned. Biblical scholar Walter Brueggemann speaks of the capacity of the Psalms to move us from orientation, through disorientation, to a new position of re-orientationf We experience times of disequilibrium, yet when God is there with us beautiful psalms can be birthed. In many ways this experience occurred in the lives of the desert ascetics. They were thrust into disorientation by accepting the gospel and striving to follow its earnest call by living in the desert or monastery. After each new experience of reorientation, the desert ascetics would be thrust again into disorientation through continued ascetical practices that could bring them to ever closer union with God. This rhythm stripped the seekers of all that separated their truest selves from God. The nun who feigned madness and the holy "drunken" woman open up the paradox that troubled members, nonconforming members, and the mentally ill confront us with. These women speak to us of the paradox of ultimate detachment, of letting go of all that keeps us from an intense relationship with God and our truest selves. And they are paradoxes because their pursuit Review for Religious of interior freedom causes disruption for others. These women certainly speak to us of ways that God is found outside our concept of "normal." And yet these women of old both challenge and help us to provide pastoral care for our nonconformist members who struggle with the daily reality of living out their vowed commitment or are mentally ill. We anguish on behalf of troubled members around questions of ability and willingness to live the demands of our life calling. Careful discernment is demanded of us. Is this person confronting a systemic problem in the monastery or community? Is she a prophetic element? What does the fruit of her behavior tell us? These women remind us that our teachers and mentors may come in the form of Balaam's ass--or a holy "drunken" woman or a woman who feigns madness. Indeed our troubling members call forth the strength of compassion and steadfastness and vision in ways we did not ever foresee. Sometimes we discover our best selves-- and sometimes our worst self comes out. These stories clearly teach the paradox of who was actually troubled: the woman or the community? The holy "drunken" woman and the woman who feigned madness behaved in disturbing ways, but were revealed to have pure hearts intent on God, while others manifested conformity and even appropriate conduct (not always the same thing) but inwardly lacked something even to the point of behaving badly. We are presented with a paradox, with a teach-ing/ learning moment. Discernment is necessary. What appears as "bad" is shown to be "good." What is in us-- our purity of heart, or our lack of it--is exposed. We are presented with classic stories of the desert, stories that support the desert goal of apatheia. Apatheia is the interior state in which people no longer have to struggle against inordinate attachments. Through 63.2 2004 Swan ¯ Paradox in the Monastery The desert ascetics taught all to deliberately let go of whatever keeps us from the single-minded pursuit of God. profound interior freedom, they are not pulled hither and yon by various worldly, desires. Apatheia is a mature mindfulness, a sound sensitivity, and a keen attention to one's inner world and to the outer world in which one has been living. Apatheia is purity of heart. The desert ascetics taught all to deliberately let go of whatever keeps us from the single-minded pursuit of God: feelings and thoughts that bind us or others, cravings and addictions that diminish feelings of worth, and attachments to self-imposed perfectionism. The paradoxical questions are: Does my purity of heart support my fellow seekers' own interior journey? Is it inappropriate if my purity of heart disrupts your journey? How do we discern this together? Desert ascetics faced suffering with determination and courage. They understood that suffering often has roots in their own attachments to thoughts, attitudes, motives, relationships, and reputation. Suffering was the avenue towards freedom, and detachment the avenue towards maturity and humility. And yet there are innumerable stories from desert monastic communities--possibly Shenouteand the White Monastery being the most famous--where misbehavior and harshness were too common.9 Benedict of Nursia's own Rule reveals a monastic leader purified by the fire of members' unruly misbehavior and matured by his attempts to curb it. The "mad" nun and the "drunken" woman remind us that the pursuit of holiness is a lifelong journey. Review for Religious As in all good stories, we are not given easy answers to hard questions. Paradox lives on and calls for discernment. We need self-awareness in order to understand what power the stories have and why we repeat them in our dining rooms. The "mad" nun and the "drunken" woman confront us: Who are our teachers? From whom are we willing to learn? At whose feet do we sit to receive the wisdom of desert cell and monastery? Are we alert to unexpected opportunities to learn? What do we do when our presumptions, prejudices, and expectations are exposed and thwarted? How do we discern? With whom do we discern? Who are our wise elders? Notes l I am drawing from Tim Vivian, "Witness to Holiness: Abba Daniel of Scetis," Coptic Church Review 24, nos. 1 and 2 (Spring and Summer 2003): 2-52. See also L~on Clugnet, "Vie et R~cits de l'Abbd Daniel de Sc~t~," Revue de l'Orient Chr~tien 5 (1900): 67-70. See also Witness to Holiness: Abba Daniel of Scetis, ed. Tim Vivian (Kalamazoo: Cistercian Publications, forthcoming). z Archimandrite is a term usually used only in the Orthodox and Coptic Christian traditions, referring to a leader of the monastery. 3 Vivian, "Wimess," p. 36. 4 Vivian, "Witness," p. 36. 5 Primarily I am using Palladius, Lausiac History, ed. and trans. Robert Meyer, Vol. 34 of Ancient Christian Writers series, ed. Johannes Quasten (New York: Newman Press, 1964), pp. 96-98. 6 Palladius, p. 97, and see The Life of Blessed Syncletica by Pseudo- Athanasius, ed. and trans. Elizabeth Bryson Bongie (Toronto: Peregrina Publishing, 1995). 7 Pelagius's name is given to the heresy that denies original sin and claims that human beings can choose the good on their own and thereby effect their own salvation. We see echoes of this in the posunodern North American and western European culture. Jansen's name is given to the heresy that human nature is so flawed by original sin that special grace is needed to follow Christ. His teachings around determinism are quite similar to Calvin's teachings on predestination. Jansenism was a rigorous and austere movement. I suggest that much of our perfectionist drive comes from the Jansenist influence on our culture. 63.2 2004 Swan * Paradox in the Monastery 8 See Walter Brueggemann, Praying the Psalms (Winona: St. Mary's Press, 1986). 9 See Susanna Elm, Virgins of God: The Making of Asceticism in Late Antiquity (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1994), and Rebecca Krawiec, Shenoute and the Women of the White Monastery: Egyptian Monasticism in Late Antiquity (New York: Oxford University Press, 2001). They Who Sow in Tears. These are not hollow hours that the spirit spends in tortured wrestling with a loneliness trenchant and piercing. Even this ache that rends our subtlest calm beyond each day's regress with sharp-toothed gnawing at the being's core is heaven-sent, is calculate, is more than all our orisons, presaging joyous yield. This is the "sowing in tears" within His field. Agnes Margaret Humbert CDP (nursing home, age ninety-one) Review for Religious PATRICK SEAN MOFFETT Viewing Chapters as "Authoring" Our Congregations' Narratives ~hSU~S offers us his story. While walking the streets, lls, and lakesides of his homeland, he authored in Spirited word and action the initial chapters of the defin-ing narrative of Christianity. All eyes were on him in his hometown synagogue as he proclaimed that the words of Isaiah were being fulfilled in their hearing: "The Spirit of God has been given to me and has anointed me. God has sent me to bring the good news to the poor, to proclaim liberty to captives and to the blind new sight" (Lk 4:18-19). Chapters have a unique function in the lives of reli-gious congregations and their members and in the wider church. They merit re-viewing and re-hearing from a number of vantage points. Here I present a perspective that emphasizes the storytelling nature of these eccle-sial events. Stories We Live By In the stories people tell about themselves, psychol-ogists find a manifestation of two great motivational forces: agency and communion.~ Agency refers to behav- Patdck Sean Moffett CFC writes again from Christian Brothers, Central Harlem; 74 West 124th Street; New York, N.Y. 10027. I.LJ~K.~'O"~ 63.2 2004 iors that individuals perceive as uniquely their own: I think, I feel, I do. Communion refers to people's percep-tions of relatedness, of belonging, of being integral mem-bers of a group that they experience as us or we. In chapter preparations, various "Emmaus Walks" have gained favor as ways of fostering shared discern-ment. They are making a reappearance, displacing a pre-vious decade's preference for evaluations and sorting exercises' designed to evoke an exchange on personality types or styles of human interaction. Gospel based and focusing on people's unique life journeys, Emmaus Walks facilitate personal narration. Participants are usually assigned a partner randomly. After a time of reflecting by oneself (perhaps on a given theme or a text of Scripture) or checking in on one's own current affect, the pair simply take a walk during which they express what is happening within them. These exchanges are sometimes followed by testimonies within small or large groups or by a period of shared silence and a concluding blessing or hymn. The Emmaus Walk serves as an example of the story-telling which begins anew with the announcement of a coming chapter and characterizes much of what happens throughout the time of chapter. Individual members are invited to reflect on the movement of the Spirit within their individual and. communal experiences and then to share their observations with their sisters or brothers in local, provincial, and eventually congregational contexts. "Time of chapter" is the full period extending from the first announcement through, the preparations, the prechapter gatherings, the formal opening, and the issue and voting sessions to the chapter's formal conclusion. Consecrated Life in a Time of Chapter "Why is this day different from every other day?" The child's question opening the Hebrew Passover ritual Review for Religious might be applied to the time of chapter. Consecrated life in the Christian tradition is nourished by daily atten-tion to the Spirit of Jesus working in and through the individual and the community. A call to chapter is an invitation to each and all of the members to engage in discernment that goes beyond the usual daily praxis. In personal reflection, in personal and communal prayer, in speaking and listening, the focus in the time of chap-ter is our unity within our brotherhood or sisterhood in Christ. Our individual stories are narrated within the communal story. We attend individually to movements of the Spirit that may be intended for the whole community. I attend within myself, within the community, and within the people we are called to serve. I willingly risk asking if there is something in our shared life that I am called at this time to affirm, to question, to challenge, or to propose. I risk accepting a call to prophesy, a call to speak to my brothers or sisters in the name of God. I listen with special attention to those who speak in ways that challenge me, that call me to deeper levels of relationship with them and with our God. I test the spir-its that are stirring among us. I listen with mind and heart, noting particularly what evokes strong signs of passion, dissonance, or consent. Collectively, the members of the congregation under-stand that a general chapter is a defining moment in the ongoing story of their institute. Canon law is quite explicit: In an institute the general chapter has supreme author-ity in accordance with the constitutions. It is to be composed in such a way that it represents the whole institute and becomes a true sign of its unity in char-ity. Its principal functions are to protect the patri-mony of the institute . . . and to foster appropriate renewal in accord with that patrimony. It also elects the supreme moderator, deals with matters of greater importance, and issues norms which all are bound to obey. (c. 631, §i) 63.2 2004 Moffett ¯ Viewing Cbapt~ The New Testament offers what might be considered models of chapter. Stories within a Story The New Testament offers what might be considered models of chapter. Jesus gathers the disciples on the return from their first mission. They share stories marveling at all they had done and taught (Mk 6:30). Jesus chooses a committee consisting of Peter, James, and John to wit-ness the transfiguration. As Jesus approaches the time of his passion, he gathers the full group as friends at a meal in an upper room. He ritualizes his role among them as one who serves, and he enjoins them to follow his example. He speaks with great intimacy of his rela-tionship with his Father and with them, and of their incor-poration into his continuing story. He announces a new commandment revealing the defining characteristics of their agency and their commu-nion. "As I have loved you, you love one another. By this all will know that you are my disciples" On 13:3 4). Several postresurrection encounters are similar. Peace, self-reve-lation, and a shared mission are the recurrent themes. In the Acts of the Apostles, as the members of the early church confront issues of leadership, community management, and inclusiveness, there is a coming together to consider what is happening among them, to recall the story of tlieir mission, and to decide--"we and the Holy Spirit"--where to go from here. Religious hold as a treasure, but also as a memory of painful moments, the chapter stories of their congrega-tions- times of jubilee, special fervor, and renewal, but also of schisms, suppressions, and even denunciations of their founders. In the treasures of Franciscan lore, the gathering of the friars in 1217 at Pentecost continues to suggest Review for Religious images and hopes for new generations of the sons and daughters of the Poverello. He writes to those who were to gather, encouraging them to have a listening heart and to be "cleansed and enlightened interiorly and fired with the ardor of the Holy Spirit": Listen, then, sons of God and my friars, and give ear to my words. Give hearing with all your hearts, and obey the voice of the Son of God. Keep his com-mandments wholeheartedly, and practice his counsels with all your minds. Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; extol him in your works. This is the very rea-son he has sent you all over the world, so that by word and deed you may bear witness to his message and convince everyone that there is no other almighty God besides him. Almighty, eternal, just, and merciful God, grant us in our misery that we may do for your sake alone what we know you want us to do, and may always want what pleases you; so that, cleansed and enlightened interiorly and fired with the ardor of the Holy Spirit, we may be able to follow in the footsteps of your Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, and so make our way to you, Most High, by your grace alone, who live and reign in perfect Trinity and simple Unity, and are glorified, God omnipotent, for ever and ever. Amen.2 In 1976 Eduardo Cardinal Pironio, in his role as pre-fect of the Sacred Congregation for Religious, offered a vision that anticipated many of the directions that chap-ters have taken during the past quarter century: A chapter is not a mere study meeting, a superficial gathering or a short-lived revision of life. A chapter is essentially a paschal celebration. For this reason it is above all a "penitential" celebration which aims at liv-ing two things deeply: a sincere attitude of conver-sion and a deep and painful search., for God's will in the present necessities of consecrated life. But, since it is a real paschal celebration, it is not just the penitential aspects that interest us in a chap-ter. It is the whole extent of paschal newness, a fresh- 63.2 2004 ness in the church and a good dose of pasc.hal opti-mism. If the chapter has been celebrated well, in poverty, prayer, and brotherly charity, it is a re-cre-ation of the institute, and its spiritual riches overflow upon the church and the world. Because of all this, the chapter is a salvific event, an ecclesial event, a family event. (L'Osservatore Romano, English edition, 16 September 1976) For many congregations the "time of chapter" has become increasingly inclusive of individuals and groups with whom they are associated in life and ministry. Coworkers and those served are invited to share in many aspects of the chapter preparations and celebrations. They respond with helpful and often challenging insights, genuine affirmations, and earnest testimonies to possible applications of the congregation's charism. They clearly have a role in the story of the institute. As the chapter moves into its more formal role of supreme authority with respect to the congregation's members and its choice of leaders, the various associates join with the universal church in prayerfully awaiting, outside closed doors, the moment of a new Pentecost. The church, historically the chief beneficiary of these charismatic moments, is most attentive in protecting the members' rights and asserting their duty to discern among themselves the movement of the Spirit. J Planning the Chapter Groups engaged in chapter preparations, when asked what outcomes are most desired, readily speak of a greater unity--unity in who they are and what they are about in the name of the Lord. "By this they will know that you are my disciples." A steering committee approaches the design of a chapter with the guidelines of canon law and with the congregation's constitution, statutes, directives, and cus-toms, but also with aspects of the "Zeitgeist" or cultural Review for Religious climate of contemporary religious congregations. Resources, facilities, travel possibilities, witness, means of communication, inclusiveness, ministerial pressures, and solidarity are some of the issues that have evoked creativity and diversity in the conduct of chapters. The Spirit has been called on to adjust to a great variety of venues. Faith is supported by Jesus' promise that, wher-ever two or three are gathered in his name, he will be around for whatever will be happening. Canon law offers chapter planners two notes: § 1. Participatory and consultative bodies are faithfully to carry out the task entrusted to them, in accordance with the universal law and the institute's own law. In their own way they are to express the care and par-ticipation of all the members for the good of the whole institute or community. §2. In establishing and utilizing these means of participation and consultation, a wise discernment is to be observed, and the way in which they operate is to be in conformity with the character and purpose of the institute. (c. 633) The initial request for community members' sug-gestions about the chapter tends to elicit many concerns about content and process that go well beyond what a large gathering could address within the limited time available, and so standing or ad hoc committees are assigned the tasks of: ¯ sorting through the initial input, ¯ performing or commissioning the research necessary for a more thorough study of stated expectancies and issues, ¯ developing preliminary drafts of papers or pro-posals, and ¯ offering opportunities for the members to share an emerging story in a variety of ways. (Letters, emails, calls, community and intercommunity gather-ings, retreats, liturgies, and assemblies become part of an extended effort to incorporate into the "time of chap-ter" the experiences and issues that may not find space and time in the formal chapter gathering.) 63.2 2004 Moffett ¯ Viewing Chapters A sacred history informs the narrative of our times. All recent retellings of the story of "consecrated life" make reference to defining characteristics articulated in the Vatican II Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life, Perfectae caritatis. Religious hear a call to be faithful as men and women of our times, as followers of Jesus and his gospel, as members of the people of God sharing the mission of the church in the world, and as religious gifted with the charism of our particular congregation? The specification of a "time of chapter" is an invita-tion for members of a congregation to become more intensely engaged in sharing stories about the action of the Spirit in our personal and communal lives. My sisters and brothers encourage me: ¯ to attend to revelation I am receiving for the group, ¯ to share that truth in love, ¯ to attend to the prophecy of my sisters and brothers, ¯ to explore the differences, and ¯ to seek in faith the light, the direction, and the leadership that will guide our shared lives and mission toward the next chapter. When the members of the congregation or their del-egates come together for the formal affairs sessions and elections, it is a time for refinement, affirmation, and actualization of a consensus that has been emerging dur-ing several months of prayerful discernment, prophetic sharing, thoughtful listening, and rearticulation of the group narrative. In the process it is the movement of the Spirit that matters. The concluding chapter sessions, in their distinct moments, are a point of arrival and a new departure. Having clarified a shared vision for the life and mission of the congregation over the next few years, the members select those who will have a leadership role in helping Review for Religious membership remain attentive to the Spirit as together-- membership, leadership, and Spirit--they author the beginning lines of a new chapter in the continuing story of the congregation. The Zeitgeist and Some Dangerous Ideas As men and women of their times, members of reli-gious congregations, especially those working at the mar-gins of society, have a special vantage point for observing the surrounding culture, but also the risk of being affected by it. Much of what once happened only at general chap-ters has become part of congregations' ongoing admin-istration. Instant communication, travel opportunities, greater exposure to global issues, international and inter-cultural exchange, shared ministries, and increased col-laboration with governmental and nongovernmental organizations have broadened our ministerial vision and reduced our corporate response time. In the process, congregations have been exposed to prevalent cultural influences; sometimes they have regressed in search of past glories and a lost sense of security. Marist Father Gerald Arbuckle sounds the alert for "Avoiding Cultural Seduction in General Chapters" (Human Development 23, no. 3, Fall 2002). Recent terrorist activity has heightened awareness and concern about what propels groups toward conflict. Researchers are examining belief systems that seem to be fueling intergroup hostilities. Psychologists Roy and Judy Eidelson, in a review of the growing body of liter-ature, have identified five belief domains particularly important for further study: superiority, injustice, vul-nerability, distrust, and helplessness.4 They suggest a consideration of what happens as these ideas are incor-porated into the self-definition of individuals and then of the group to which they belong. 63.2 2004 Moffett ¯ Viewing Chapters Extraordinary times offer obstacles and opportuni-ties for evangelization. As in all instances of empathic ministerial response to hurt and evil, we are called to find within our own stories traces of what we seek to address. Our own sinful history attunes us to what makes Congregations sometimes have regressed in search of past glories and a lost sense of security. others particularly vulner-able to prevalent cultural influences, to what the Eidelsons call "dangerous ideas." Religious need not be suicide bombers or look beyond their own congre-gational experiences to have an initial insight into the dynamics of such ideas: "I and we are the superior ones. I and we have been the victims of injustice. I and we are particularly vulnerable. I and we cannot trust those who are not like us. I and we cannot do anything to change the situation." Significant insights become apparent in the telling of our stories. Chapters in an era of world conflict are called to attend afresh to the cry of the poor within and beyond the congregation. Those whose daily ministry affords them intimate interaction with the suffering Christ have stories that can lead to new life in the con-gregation. So can the stories of those who feel the dull pain of not having such opportunities. The challenge of chapter is that of evoking and attending to all these voices and recognizing the promised Spirit within them. From Our Stories to Our Story The current ages of those telling their stories can affect the themes that arise within the group. For exam-ple, a congregation that has numbers of older members and fewer young ones may find itself discussing genera- Revlew for Religious tivity (vs. stagnation) and integrity (vs. despair) and may be left with little time or energy for issues of identity, ministry, and intimacy, issues likely to concern the younger members. Accommodations may need to be made to assure that the group story will include the graces and struggles of all the members, not just the majority. Erik Erikson was in his eighties when he published a revision of his influential description of the life cycle. He focused on the way that personal identity, the "I," becomes ever more fully integrated into a "we." He said, "The sisterhoods and brotherhoods of the 'we' come to share a joined identity experienced as most real.''s A chap-ter needs to hear the congregation story as it is expressed anew in the lives of individuals and groups within the congregation. Not all the results will accommodate tran-scription onto paper or into electronic storage. Certain matters need to be transcribed. Constitutions and statutes govern the lives of the congregation's mem-bers. The approval process needs to be enlightened with all of the knowledge, wisdom, and grace available to those whose vote on specific matters will affect the future of all of their brothers or sisters. Records of valid voting procedures legitimate the transfer and continuity of lead-ership. Accounts and decisions concerning the patrimony of the congregation affect mission feasibilities and mem-bers' welfare, and they require skilled attention. All such matters are guided by canon law and by the law and cus-toms of the congregation. The experience of chapter, of specially shared broth-erhood or sisterhood and of the participants' careful pro-cedures and conscientious voting, is not easy to share with those who were not present. When words no longer adequately describe the lived reality of our being and doing, we struggle to find new words. We have a shared understanding of our collective story, about which words 63.2 2004 Moffett ¯ Viewing ~hapten The experience of chapter is not easy to share with those who were not present. fail, but the story is accurate. We measure other stories against that one. We likewise have intuitions of ourselves and of one another. By such intuitions we know for our-selves and others what is individually appropriate or not. Some words could be mine but not yours, some clothing would be comfortable for you but not me. In music, art, recreation, and so forth, in some way all that we become engaged in carries our unique signatures. Our collective images are shared. We can identify what is Franciscan, Dominican, Jesuit, typically Christian Brother, Mercy, or CND. Every document that is "ours" will have to fit within the domain of this collective vision. No document will ever capture it fully. As most of us sur-vive quite well without a definitive autobiography, so too our congregations. While described in a plethora of his-torical documents, as long as the congregation lives in its members, the story remains "in process." On the mountain Peter offered to capture in a build-ing project the brilliant manifestation of Jesus with Moses and Elijah. John probably had in mind a first draft of the account he never needed to write. James? For cen-turies great numbers of pilgrims to Compostela in Spain have touched into stories of this apostle's own manifes-tations. They speak of conversion and special graces. Yet all we know with some degree of certainty is that this James earned the crown of martyrdom in Jerusalem early in the story of the infant church (Ac 12:1). The words of Jesus reported in the synoptic accounts of his transfiguration suggest that each of the chosen delegates took from the mountain something to be cher-ished unspoken until it was time to proclaim the Son of Review for Religious Man's resurrection. Their privileged vision was not of something that was to come, but rather of that which always is. Together they beheld for a moment the light of the one God in whom they live and breathe and have their being. Such are our chapter stories. Notes t Dan P. McAdams, The Stories We Live By (New York: Wm. Morrow and Company, 1993); David Bakan, The Duality of Human Existence: Isolation and Communion in Western Man (Boston: Beacon Press, 1966); P.S. Moffett, "Promoting Agency among Children and Adolescents at the Margins" (invited address, American Psychological Association), Journal of Pastoral Counseling 30 (1995). 2 Taken from The Writings of St. Francis of Assisi, trans. Benen Fahy OFM (London: Burns and Oates, 1964), pp. 104 and 108. 3 Perfectae caritatis, Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life; Instruction on Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religious Life as Applied to Institutes Dedicated to Works of the Apostolate, Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes, 31 May 1983; lHta consecrata, apostolic exhortation of Pope John Paul II, 1996; Ytarting Afresh from Christ: A Renewed Commitment to Consecrated Life in the Third Millennium, CICLSAL, 19 May 2002. 4 Roy J. Eidelson and Judy I. Eidelson, "Dangerous Ideas: Five Beliefs That Propel Groups toward Conflict," American Psychologist 58, no. 3 (March 2003). s Erik Erikson, The Life Cycle Completed (London: W.W. Norton and Co., 1982). May Drunk on the wild plum, heady with endless stretches of bluebells surrendered to the woods (such are spring's goods, not to sell, but to sate novice eyes so long accustomed to the late gray winter's moods); all, all is given from these places where you, 0 Trinity, hide your faces. Eileen Haugh OSF 63.2 2004 J. THOMAS HAMEL Our Lady's Presence in the Spiritual Exercises gnatian tradition The first mention of our Lady in the Spiritual Exercises is in the first exercise of the First Week. "Preamble 1. This is the composition, seeing the place., the material place where the object I want to contemplate is situated . By 'mate-rial place' I mean, for example, a temple or a mountain where Jesus Christ or our Lady is to be found, according to what I want to contem-plate." ~ Is it by chance that the two examples given are a temple and a mountain? Major events took place in the temple (finding the lost twelve-year-old there) and, twenty years later, at the mount called Olivet (Jesus' ascension)--and who can doubt that our Lady was among the disciples there? (Lk 24:50-53; Ac 1:12-14). As a young child Mary was presented in the temple accord-ing to legend, even as later she presented her newborn to the Lord (Lk 2:22). Temple and J. Thomas Hamel SJ does spiritual direction and lives at College of the Holy Cross; 1 College Street; Worcester, Massachusetts 01610. Review for Religious mountain bring to mind what scripture scholars have long noted, that Mary was the only human person pre-sent to Jesus' life from beginning to end. The same is eminently true of her presence in the Spiritual Exercises. The first contemplation of the first day of the Second Week, on the incarnation, not only embraces the sacred event itself, but even invites retreatants to speak to "the eternal Word [so altogether newly] incarnate" in Mary's womb (§109). All of a sudden her womb is sacred space, a living temple. On the same first day, the presence and activity of our Lady is highlighted in the three points on our Lord's birth (§264). The second point simply quotes St. Luke: "She bore her firstborn son and wrapped him in swad-dling clothes and laid him in a manger" (Lk 2:7). In the third point the angelic choir sings "Glory to God in the highest" for Mary and Joseph and the child lying in the manger. (Ignatius conveniently forgets that the angels sang to the shepherds.) Putting her Son in a manger is our Lady's way of presenting him to the world. We can assume that Ignatius thought of that, and that the thought included a loving gaze at Jesus' entire life, the Life of the world. So aware of Jesus' birth in utter poverty, Ignatius recalls the arduous journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem. Ignatian contemplation is the exercise of being present first of all to details of some material things: the width of a road, its length, its smoothness or roughness, the width and depth of a cave, the size of a manger or trough, the height of a hill like Calvary. Imagined details about the route to Bethlehem invite us to be aware of the child pre-sent in Mary's womb on that long and arduous journey-- a prelude to journeys from Bethlehem to Egypt, and back to Galilee, later to the Jordan, to Samaritan territory, to Judea and Calvary. Jesus in the manger under his mother's care was the visible beginning of our finding our Savior 63.2 2004 Hamel ¯ Ou~ Lady's Pre~ence present everywhere in the world. Such is the way of the Holy Spirit at work in Ignatian contemplation. Our Lady's offering of her Son to the shepherds and to the world was a revelation, the source of Ignatius's own mysticism of apostolic gervice. Ignatian retreatants are invited to serve the needs of the mother, of Joseph, and the servant girl (§114) and, following the contem-plative gaze of Ignatius, are led on a journey that includes Christ carrying his cross to Calvary (§ 116). The mys-tery of the birth of Christ our Lord, or rather the mys-teries surrounding his birth, glow with something mystical. How else explain what Ignatius did when it was no longer possible for him and his first companions to go to the Holy Land? Thirteen months after his ordination to the priesthood, he celebrated his first Mass in the Church of St. Mary Major on 25 December 1538 at the altar of the manger in which Christ was said to have been placed. Once again Ignatius was reliving that sacred moment when our Lady placed her Son in the manger. Was the manger all along a kind of mystical manger which later prompted that long-standing desire of Ignatius that our Lady be pleased to place him with her Son? It is no sur-prise that her response was the mystical vision of La Storta in November 1537: He had resolved to remain a year, once he became a priest, without saying Mass, preparing himself and praying our Lady to be pleased to put him with her Son. And being one day

Issue 35.2 of the Review for Religious, 1976. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS IS edited by faculty members of St Louis Umvers~ty, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building, 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright (~) 1976 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other countries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor March 1976 Volume 35 Number 2 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. Mary, Model of the Church Paul VI December 8, 1975, marked not only the solemnity of the Immaculate Conception but also the tenth anniversary of the conclusion of the Second Vatican Council. This is the text of the Pope's homily in St. Peter's on that occasion.* Venerable Brothers and Beloved Sons! and all of you, special guests at this pious ceremony, Teachers, Research workers and Students of the Pontifical Roman Universities, you P~upils in our seminaries, you Members of the Ecclesiastical and Religious Colleges of the City, or associhtes of the Secular Institutes. And you, beloved Daughters in Christ, Religious, Novices, Probationers and Pupils of the Houses of formation for women in Rome. And then you, too, our Roman faithful, and you pilgrims of the Holy Year and visitors to this holy City. And finally you (we wish to gather everyone in the multiple value of the rite we are celebrating), you, we say, former members and protagonists 'of the Second Ecumenical Vatican Council, convened here to commemo-rate with us the tenth anniversary, which falls today, of those great ec-clesiastical sessions! Listen to us, all of you! and let us invite you to a moment of contem-plation, spiritual and almost visual, as if the appearance of her whose ex-traordinary feast we are celebrating today were present in the background of this Basilica, as if-hovering in the unique splendour, proper to herself (even if reflected from the divine source of light); and we were to see her with the prophetic eyes of the evangelist of the Apocalypse: *Abstracted from Osservatore Romano, 12/18/75, pp. 6-7. 161 162 / Review [or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 Behold! "A great portent appeared in heaven, a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars" (Apoc 12, 1; cf. Cant 6, 4 ft.). What is it? Who is it? We are amazed and absorbed by the Bible vision; and in our dazzled astonishment we lose the sense of reality. We do not forgo expressing as best we can the value of that mysterious image; and without continuing, for the present, with the scene in the Apocalypse, we are satisfied to know the double name that has been superimposed on that heavenly figure by the masters of Holy Scripture, as if exclaiming, in an-swer to our anxious curiosity: it is Mary, it is Mary, that Woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and the mysterious crown of stars on her head! It is the Church, it is the Church! the scholars inform us, studying the secrets of the figurative and symbolical language of the world of the Apocalypse. Perhaps they are right. As for us, we are happy to honour Mary and the Church, the first the Mother of Christ in the flesh; the second the .Mother of his Mystical Body, and she herself part of that Mystical Body. All Brothers and Sons! For a moment let us fix our thought, dazzled and happy, on the first meaning of the bewildering vision; and let us say to ourselves, with the intention of celebrating the mystery of the Immaculate Conception: that is what Mary is like! Her aspect is heavenly and tri-umphal~ but if closely observed, it is that of a Woman "humble and lofty more than a creature" (Par 33, 2). So humble, in fact, that she banishes all our respectful trepidation (cf. Lk 1, 48), and almost invites us to see in her a beloved Sister. At the very moment that we dare to address to her a trusting word, no other words come to our lips than those of the Gospel: Blessed art thou! (Lk 1, 45 and 48). Yes, blessed! And for how many reasons! One among the many we are celebrating today, and we would like to put it at the peak of our devotion to Mary: her Immaculate Conception! That is, God's preferential thought for this creature of his; the intention to 'see in her again the original innocence of a being conceived "in the. image and likeness" of himself, God (Gen 1, 26-27), not disturbed, not contaminated by any stain, by any imperfection, as are all the children Of Eve, all mankind, except Christ and except her, the Blessed Virgin. An idea; a divine dream] a masterpiece of human beauty, not sought in the formal model only, but realized in the intrinsic and incomparable capacity of ex-pressing the Spirit in the flesh, the divine likenes~ in the human countenance, invisible Beauty in the physical figure. Mary, All Beauty Tota pulchra es, Maria.t You are beauty, real, pure, holy beauty, oh Mary! This should be the real and ideal image of the Blessed Virgin, re-flected, luminous and illuminating, in Our individual souls, today, oh Faith- Mary, Model o] the Church / 163 ful; as the synthesis of our admiration and devotion to the Blessed Virgin, whose feast, eminently theological and eminently ecclesial, we are celebrat-ing. Theological, because we deduce it from revelation and from the most vigilant and loving reflection, with which the most candid and virginal piety dared, certainly with her assistance, to fix an enraptured and exPloring gaze on her pure, humble face, the perfect face of sacred and human beauty~ Ecclesial, because from being a mirror of divine perfection, speculum iusti-tiae, she offers herself to us as a mirror of human perfection, in which the Church, venerating the Blessed Virgin, "joyfully contemplates, as in a faultless model (it is the Council speaking; Sacr. Cone., n. 103), that which she herself wholly desires and hopes to be"; a nuptial beauty which St. Paul, as we all remember, describes in a stupendous way: "in all its splen-dour, without spot or wrinkle, or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish" (Eph 5, 27). The Church's holiness, in its state of becoming, has its model, its "typus" in Mary, as St. Ambrose will say (in Lucam, II-7), and St. Augustine will comment: "figuram in se sanctae Ecclesiae demonstravit" (De Symbolo, I; P.L. 40, 661), Mary represented in herself the figure of the Holy Church. ¯ A model, a specimen, an ideal figure of the Church; is that enough? The theological truth goes further, and enters the frontiers of that subordinate causality, which in the divine plan of salvation inseparably associates the creature, Mary, the Handmaid of the "Fiat," with the mystery of the In-carnation, and makes her,: St. Irenaeus writes, "a cause of,this salvation for herself and for the whole of mankind" (Adv. haereses, III, 22, 4). "Mother of the Church" We will rejoice, then, to have in St. Augustine the conclusion which at the end of the III section of the Council we made our own, explicitly recog-nizing the unquestionable right of the Blessed Virgin to the title of "Mother of the Church." If, in fact, Mary is the mother of Christ in the flesh, and Christ is the head of the Church, his Mystical Body, Mary' is spiritually the Mother of this Body, to which she herself belongs, at an eminent level, as daughter and sister (cf. St. Augustine, de Sancta Virginitate, V and VI; P, L. 40, 339; and cf, H. De Lubac, Mdd. sur l'Eglise, c. IX) . To you, Teachers, Research workers and Students of our Rbman Uniz versities; to you, young Seminarian~, to you, Religious men and women, goes particularly a cry from our heart: love, invoke and imitate Mary Immaculate, the Mother of Christ and the Mother of the Ctiurch, and make good use, for the present and for future generations, of the treasure of wisdom that the second Vatican Ecumenical Council was and is. The Spirit Speaks: When and How? Thomas Dubay, S.M. Father Dubay, a frequent contributor to our journal, is engaged full time in lecturing and writing in the area of religious life. His home address is: Marist Seminary; 220 Taylor Street, N.E.; Washington, DC 20017 "Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening" (1 Kgs 3:10). ¯ One need not emphasize the point that a vibrant sector of Christian life at this point of history is the sector of the Spirit, the Holy Spirit. The charismatic renewal has been promoting with no little success a whole life-style patterned on and growing out of a program centered in the Spirit's activity in the midst of God's people. This renewal is by no means restricted to "the release of the Spirit'? or the gift of tongues or the healing ministry. It is felt that the Holy Spirit is speaking today not only to saints but to sinners, not only to officialdom but to the lowly placed. To some considerable extent, but not with an entire coincidence with the charismatic movement, the Spirit movement' has been prominent in renewal efforts carried on in religious life. Books, articles, lectures, chapter documents often refer to the Holy Spirit, especially under the rubric of openness to Him, listening to Him. The central thrust here is not so much prayer experience, speaking in tongues or engaging in a healing ministry as it is in detecting what God is saying to us, both to the individual and to the community. This thrust toward listening to the Spirit is readily noted in the popularity of discernment methods, techniques, processes~ Although one begins to sense an incipient, weariness with discernment talk, the interest remains noteworthy. The reality surely is of crucial importance in an age struggling to find the mind of God and to read the signs of the times. If God does speak to His people--and Scripture insists that He does--it can never be unimportant to listen. 164 The Spirit Speaks: When and How? / 165 An Anomalous Situation But this ."listening" is where .our problems begin, problems that press for solution. Before we can intelligently explain how one listens to the indwell-ing God, we should first understand something of how He speaks. The literature of our day, issuing both from the charismatic renewal and from religious life circles, says almost nothing on this subject. As a matter of fact, I must. candidly add that while speculative theologians often refer to the activity of the Holy Spirit in the Church, they seldom discuss how He acts and enlightens the individual through a personal contact. They do, of course, rightly point out that God speaks to His people through Scripture and through the representatives He has established in His Church: "he who hears you, hears Me" (Lk 10:16).1 But this is not the question at hand. People both in the Pentecostal movement and in religious life have in mind a personal (individual and!or communal) encounter with the Holy Spirit, and in this encounter they "listen to Him." Our situation, therefore, is odd. On the one hand many persons rou-tinely speak of "listening to the Spirit" as though He were as familiar as a friend speaking over one's right shoulder. Yet on the other hand almost no one explains how He speaks--even though we all know He does not speak in sound waves. Nor are we told how one can be so sure it is the Spirit speaking. Until we provide satisfactory answers to the question, "How does the Spirit speak?" we are left with some embarrassing problems. How can anyone be so sure he is listening to the Spirit and not to his own desires? We hardly need to debate the observation of Aldous Huxley: "The untutored egoist merely wants. Give him a religious education, and it becomes obvious to him, it becomes axiomatic, that what he wants is what God wants.'"-' Does God speak in diverse ways? If He does, how can we know the differences? What are we to think of,serious and sincere people who are convinced that they are receiving special messages from the Holy Spirit? Is good will enough to insure "listening to the Spirit"? Who Can Answer Our Questions? If it is true that the popular and theological literature on the con-temporary scene seldom discusses the title questign of this article, one may rightly wonder who can answer it? I know of two sources: Scripture and the mystics? We shall in this article explore both of these sources that we may discover on solid grounds when and how the Holy Spirit speaks in our own day. ~See also Jn 13:20; Jn 21:15-17; Lk 22:31-32; Tt 1:7; 1 Tm 3:15; 2Tin 3:14-16 and many other like texts. ~The Devils o] Loudun, p. 18. ZBy "mystics" here I do not refer to the recipients of extraordinary phenomena such as levitation or the stigmata. The word in Catholic theology indicates those men and women who have a deep experiential encounter with God. 166 / Review Jor Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 Scripture on the Experience og God ~ ~ We may acknowledge at the outset~ ~that the Lord God did speak to select representatives in biblical times~ and in :extraordinary ways (Heb l:l ). However, we shall not be primarily concerned here with the divine messages addressed to public personages, to a Moses or to a Paul. Rather we shall direct our attention to the usual, frequent, routine ways God speaks to the inner heart of anyone close to Him. Our tasks will be three: a) Introductory observations b) What does one experience when he experiences God? c) Implications of the .biblical account. When we complete our biblical study, we shall~ investigate the mystics' message. They have a great deal to say about listening to God: when and how it happens and does not happen. a) Introductory observations Just what is experience? We use the word constantly both in popular speech and in scholarly articles, but seldom does .anyone .suggest its mean-ing. The best synonym I can think of is awareness, Without awareness one cannot experience. A genuine experience is an awareness of something, even if that awareness focuses on one's self. An illusory experience is subjectively real but it has no objective correlative. Experience for human being .implies a passivity, a being affected by the object (tapioca, .coldness). In sensory experiences affectivity (pleasant, unpleasant, cold-hot, smooth-rough, sweet-sour) predominates over knowl-edge, whereas in intellectual experience the cognitive and the affective are closer to,.being equal partners because they more intimately interpenetrate each other. - Although it is obvious on ~a moment's reflection that ,19od cannot be experienced as though He were a material object somehow palpable, some seem to assume that He must be absent if.He does not manifest His pres-ence in human ways. He is God, and we should be .content to allow Him to operate in a divine manner. We may speak of an experience-of-God continuum tl~at runs from reasoned conclusions about Him (the weak. end of the continuum or spec-trum) ~,to the face'to,face vision of Him in. glory (the strong end). In be-tween we can locate the poetic, ,artistic and infused mystical experi~n(es, In this article I shall be concerned chiefly with the last, the divinely originated, mystical encounters with our God revealed in Christ. We need to emphasize that the experience of which we speak here comes from God, not from what we do or feel or will. It is not our idea which we like and and then baptize as being His idea. When God speaks, it is God who speaks. b) What does one experience when he experiences God? ~ Divine ~xperience is not one sole awareness. The reality is rich and is expressed in many ways, each of which brings out an element or emphasis found in the whole. I wiil distinguish and number these elements not to The Spirit Speaks: When and How? / 167 separate them but to clarify the richness. Our usual human way of under-standing is through concepts ,and distinctions. One who is impatient with reasonable distinctions does not understand that he could not utter his sentence of objection except by distinguishing each word of it from every other word. In what follows, however, we must understand that the reality is not a series of chopped up pieces but a flowing whole of diverse strands and richness. 1) PRESENCE-AWARENESS. The experience oLGod includes an aware-ness, a sense of His divine presence. One is aware that God is with him, be-fore him, at his'right hand (Ps 16:8). The Holy Spirit is given to "be with" the disciple of the Lord (Jn 14:15-17), and Jesus' name is Emmanuel, God-with-us (Mt 1:23). He promises to be with His disciples all days, even to the end of the world (Mt 28:20). One who loves possesses an abiding presence of God within himself (I Jn 4:16). We shall see further on how the mystics elaborate on this presence-awareness. 2) ~ SPIRITUAL AWARENESS: SENSE-LIKE BUT NOT SENSE-LIKE. Because God is purest Spirit no .one can attain Him through sense knowledge. Yet Scripture is not reluctant to use sense knowing to bring out the reality and richness of a divine-human encounter. We are to taste and see for ourselves the goodness of God (Ps 23:8). Jeremiah felt an inner touch, a burning in his being (Jer 20:9). Paul speaks of the fragrance of Jesus' offering (Eph 5:2). The Song of Songs refers to the hearing of a voice (Song 2:14). The mystics repeatedly refer to the five senses to explain a deep meeting with God. St.-Augustine,~offers a classical example when in the Conjessions he brilliantly denies that a profound experience of,God is sense-like but then immediately turns around and affirms that there is a sense-likeness in it: ~' Not with doubtful but with sure knowledge do 1 love you, O Lord. By your Word you have transfixed hay heart, and I have loved you . What is it then that I love when I love you?'Not bodily beauty, and not temporal glory, 'not the clear shining light, lovely as it is to our eyes, not the sweet melodies of 0many-moded songs, not the soft smell of flowers and: ointments, and per-fumes, not manna and honey, not limbs made for the body's embrace, not these do I love when I love my God. Yet 1 do love a certain light, a certain voice, a certain odor, a certain food, a certain embrace when I love my God: a light, a voice, an odor, a food, an embrace for the man within me, where his light, which no place can contain, floods into my soul; where he utters words~that time does not speed away; where he sends forth an aroma that no wind can scatter; where he provides food that no eating can lessen; where he so clings that satiety does not sunder us. This is what I love when I love my God.4 St. John of the Cross at one time uses music to suggest how a person can "hear" God in His creation: "Creatures will be for the soul a-harmonious 4Con[essions, Ryan translation, Image edition, Bk 10, c. 6. 168 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 symphony of sublime music surpassing all concerts . She calls this music 'silent' because it is tranquil and quiet . There is in it the sweetness of music and the quietude of silence.'''~ At another~ time the saint describes the experience of God as a fragrance: "Sometimes the fragrance is so abundant that it seems to the soul she is clothed with delight and bathed in inestimable glory.'''~ While both the biblical writers and the. later mystics know well that God is infinitely beyond our realm of sensation, yet they speak in this fashion in order to bring out the reality of the experience of God and the richness of it. 3) NEW K.NOWINO, D.IVINE AND DARK. When one advances into a depth relationship with God he grows in knowing his Lord without knowing how he knows. He perceives this hidden God in darkness (Is 45:15), and yet the Son manifests Himself to the person who loves and keeps His word (Jn 14:21). The Father, says St. Paul, radiates in our minds His own glory, the glory that shines on the face of Jesus (2 Co 4:6). Angela of Foligno observed that the more the supreme Good is seen in darkness the more does one know He surpasses all goods~ Listening to the Spirit, there-fore, does not usually mean listening to a clear message. God does not dictate idle details about one's friends, family, enemies, oneself. The man or woman listening to the Holy Spirit is learning most of all about the three divine persons, darkly beautiful. 4) YEARNING FOR GOD. God often speaks a thirsting for Himself into the human person. It is a thirsting that purifies the recipient for deeper union and love, a thirsting that widens capacity and "bestows humilityi The psalmist seeks and thirsts like parched earth (Ps 63:1) or like the deer panting after the running waters (P~ 42:1-2). Isaiah longs for his Lord and keeps vigil for Him through the night (Is 26:8-9). St. Augustine sighs for God day and night,r All available evidence indicates that the Holy Spirit communicates this divine thirst far more frequently than He does concrete messages that satisfy curious eyes and itching ears. God. has nothing better to say than Himself. That is why in the incarnation the Father spoke His Word into the world of human flesh. When one listens to the Father, he hears mostly the Son. 5) PEACE AND COMFORTING. Our God is a healing God, a God who l(~ves and therefore comforts us in~ all our sorrows (2 Co 1:3-4), a God who gives a peace that surpasses understanding (Ph 4:7), a G~)d who re-freshes the wearied soul and gives rest (Jr 31 ~25-26; Mt 11:28). While our own selfishness begets conflict and factions (Ga 5:19-21), what the Spirit r'Spiritual .Canticle, Stanzas 14-15, #25; I am using here The Collected Works o[ St, John o] the Cross, translated by Kieran Kavan~augh, O.C;D. and Otilio Rodriguez, O.C.D., New York, 1964, p. 472. ~lbid., Stanza 17, #7; p. 480. rConfessions, Bk 7, c. 10. The Spirit Speaks." When and How? / 169 brings.is very different: love, peace, harmony. (Ga 5:22). The Hebrew shalom was not a mere absence of conflict. It implied a fullness, a rich integrity, something akin to our word, prosperity. God speaks peace, shalom, to his people. His word makes individuals and communities inte-gral, whole, loving. 6) INPOURED LOVE. The divine gift par excellence is love: "the love of God is poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit who has been given to us." (Rm 5:5) Those who divide the community into factions, who disregard their leaders are not listening to the Spirit who brings unity (1 Co 12:12-13; Ep 4:3-6) and an obedience to those overseers whom he Himself has placed to rule the Church of God (Ac 20:28). This love is a sign of the genuine disciple, one who loves as the Lord Himself loves (Jn 13:34-35). The Spirit speaks love (Ga 5:22). 7) UNION-POSSESSION-BURNING. This love of the Holy Spirit centers especially.on the three divine persons and it grows to a point where it can overwhelm one (2 Co 5: 14). It.can make one's heart.burn: "there seemed-to be a fire burning in my heart, imprisoned in my bones," said Jeremiah. "The effort to restrain it wearied me, I could not bear it." (Jr 20:9) The disciples on the road to Emmaus felt this burning as they listened to the word of the risen Kyrios (Lk 24:32), and the mystics commonly speak of it. Augustine~could write of being set. on fire for God by the psalms and of burning to repeat them.s Further on he declared that love was his gravity: "By your gift we are enkindled, and we are borne upwards. We glow with inward fire, and we go on. We asc(nd steps within the heart, and we sing a gradual psalm. By Your fire, by. Your good fire, we glow with inward fire:'''~ St. John of the Cross could speak simply of the perfect "who burn gently in God.''1" Once again we emphasize that when God speaks it is not a narration of idle details that satisfy curious expectations. God mostly speaks love. ~ 8) BEAUTY OF GOD AND JOY IN HIM. The experience of God is a growing perception of His goodness and beauty. We are to taste and see for ourselves how good He is (Ps 34:8). The one thing, the top-priority sought by the psalmist is to°dwell in the Lord's house all the days Of his life and thus to "gaze on the beauty of the Lord" (Ps 27:4). Augustine puts this in his own inimitable language: "All things are beautiful because You made them, but You who made all things are inexpressibly more beautiful . Too late have I loved You, O Beauty so ancient and so new, too late have I loved You!TM Our joy is to become so deep that it is radiant (Ps 34:5), complete (Jn 15:11), unending (Jn 16:22),.always and every- 81bid., Bk 9, c. 4. '°1bid., Bk 13, c. 9. 1°Dark Night of the Soul, Bk 2, c. 20, :~4; p. 337. 11Confessions, Bk 13, c. 20 and Bk 10, c. 27. 170 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 where (Ph 4:4), beyond description (I P 1:8). This, too, the Bishop of Hippo heard from the indwelling Lord: ",Sometimes You admit me," he said, "in my innermost being into a most extraordinary affection, mounting within me to an indescribable delight, If this is perfected in me, it will be something, I know not what, that will not belong to this slife.''r-' This'is what the Lord God especially speaks, and this is what they hear who deeply listen. 9) POWER, STRENGTH, FREEDOM. God speaks 'not only words but power itself.-It would seem correct to say that worded communications from Him are~comparatively rare, while bestowals of power and freedom . are comm.on, common that is to people who are mature in prayer. Paul came to the Corinthians not with human philosophy but with the power of God (1 Co 2:5). He explains that God,s kingdom.does not consist only of words--it~is power (1 Co 4:20). The apostle himself experiences "an overwhelming power" from the Father (2 Co 4:7). All he wants to know is Christ and the power of His resurrection (Ph 3:10). This power is a liberating dynamism: "Where the Spirit of the Lord is there is freedom" (2 Co 3:|7). c) Implications of the biblical account. Perhaps the most striking note of this New Testament picture of how God speaks is that He does not ordinarily speak specifics. It is true that public persons or those closely related to them do occasionally receive particularized directions. This is true, for example, of Peter (Ac 10:9-16), Cornelius (Ac 1'0:3-6), the "Council of Jerusalem" (Ac 15:28), Paul (Ac 9:3-6: Ga 2:2; 2 Co 12:8-9), Ananias (Ac 9:10-16). In the Christic economy when specific divine messages are given, they must be submitted to human authorities. This has long been the practice of spiritual directors and it is rooted in revelation itself. Even St~ Paul sought the .approval of the "leading men" in Jerusalem for the mission he had received directly from the risen Jesus (Ga 2:2, 6, 10). The New Testament gives no. com-fort to visionaries who deem themselves exempt from any structural guidance. What God usually does speak to the ordinary person is inner trans-formation. He speaks goodness in a general manner. He speaks his pres-ence ~. spiritual awareness., divine-dark knowing of himself., yearn-ing for his presence . . . peace and comfort . . , inpoured love . . . union-possession- burning., beauty and joy . . . power and freedom. This may come as a ,surprise to devotees of private revelations~ but it does not surprise experienced spiritual directors. Those who listen to God most genuinely are not those who believe they have received many detailed messages, but rather those whose minds have been fillhd with everything true, noble, good, pure, virtuous, worthy of praise (Ph 4:8). r"Ibid,, Bk 10, c. 40. The Spirit Speaks: When and How? / 171 Further Development, s: St. ~Iohn of the Cross While Sacred Scripture is rich in its variegated ways of dealing with the experience of God, it does leave, us with the need to unfold the richness further. We ,may therefore ask several qi~estions. Does the Holy Spirit speak in varying degrees of intensity? If so, what are they like? Does He add His own peculiar light to our human reasonings and searchings? If so, how does this happen? Can we know when it .happens? Is it possible to be mistaken regarding a genuine communication from ,13od? Were the saints ever mistaken? What does one do if he thinks (or is even convinced) that God has enlightened him in some specific way? In looking through a considerfible amount of the literature produced on these questions rI can think of no one more competent to respond to our questions than St. John of the Cross. That this Carmelite saint experienced the deepest, most magnificent encounters with the ,living God is beyond debate. If anyone~ has known what knowledge through infused love is all about, John has. If anyone has been capable of analyzing and synthesizing the sundry, elements in the experience of God:in all their varieties and de-grees, John has. If any mere man or woman has listened to the Spirit, John has. We shall, therefore, take this theologian of mysticism as our guide. In an area in which the Spirit-structure tension in the Church occupies center stage we need a master. "' Types of Communication God does not speak to,man as man speaks to man. He speaks as God; and consequently we should be wary Of our preconceived ideas as to how the communication ought to be carried: off. Moreover, He does not speak in one way only. Nor should we assume that His speaking is always unmis-takable: The indwelling God leads us into all truth (Jn 14:26; 16:13) in diverse ways and degrees. St. John.~of the Cross discusses these ways and degrees under the caption of what he calls supernatural locutions.13 It seems to me that this expression, "supernatural ,locution," is equivalent to what we mean in saying that the Holy Spirit speaks to us. John's'"locution" is a type of "apprehension," a knowing.It is a type that is "produced in the souls of spiritual persons without the use of :the bodily senses as means."14~,These are not sensory orqmaginary visions. They are "produced," that is, received from God. One does not originate the locution. God speaks and enlightens. Man receives. The saint reduces the many ways in which God speaks to three types. There are, in order of ascending value (and using the saint's terminology), a.~See Ascent o] Mt Carmel, Bk 2, cc. 28-31. 141bid., c. 28; p. 203. 172 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 successive locutions, formal locutions and substantial locutions. I will speak of them in my own language as well as John's. a) Assisting enlightenment (successive locutions). This .first type of divine speaking always occurs when one is "recollected and attentively absorbed" in some thought process. The.,enlightenment al-ways concerns the subject on which one is meditating?~' During this time, says John, the person is united with the truth and with 'the Holy Spirit who is in every truth, and yet he is thinking, reasoning in the usual, human man-ner. The Spirit aids him in forming his concepts and judgments. There is so great a clarity and ease in this activity thatqt seems another is teaching him, as indeed is the case. In this communion with :the. indwelling Spirit about a particular matter the person goes on to "form interiorly and suc-cessively other truths.''1' John supposes that this enlightenment occurs dur-ing prayer, that is, while one "is '!recollected" and "communing with the. divine Spirit?' It seems, therefore, that this type of speaking does not usually occur in dialogue sessions but in the midst of prayerful communion. The recipient of this assisting enlightenment "is unable to believe" that it originates with himself, but he has the awareness that it derives from another. And yet the knowledge received (it cannot be. attained by personal industry) is so delicate that the natural intellect by its own activity "easily disturbs and undoes" it.lr This point is important. Even when God does speak in this manner, he does not exclude our human activities with all their limitations, preconceptions, biases, errors. Even when he enlightens, he' permits men and women to be what they as a matter of fact are, fallen men and women--redeemed, yes, but still wounded and. deficient. We may conclude that this assisting enlightenment is not merely human reason proceeding under its own steam and deriving from the Holy Spirit only in the sense that anything true and good derives from him. The divine speaking is something over and above the gift ,of native intelligence, even though in the successive locution lit works closely with that intelligence, b) Independent-ideational speaking (formal locutions). Whereas the assisting enlightment occurs only when one. is prayerfully meditative, this divine speaking can happen at any time. In the first the locution accompanies human activity, while in the second it is uttered in-dependently of what the recipient is doing: "They are received as though one person were speaking to another.'''8 One may receive this locution while he is working, conversing; playing or praying. "Sometimes these words are very explicit and at other times not. They are like ideas spoken to the l~'lbid;, c. 30, #1; p. 208. ae'lbid., c. 29, #1; p. 204. ~rlbid., c. 32, #4; p. 213. aSlbid,, c. 30, #2; p. 208. The Spirit Speaks." When and How? / 173 spirit. At times only one word is spoken, and then again more than one; . . .-19 Although the recipient is clearly aware that this locution comes from another and thus has no reasonable doubt abou~ the otherness of origin, he can only too easily be deceived aSotO who this other is. It may be God or it may be the devil,o-" and the discernment is not always easy. Of this I shall speak later. c) Dynamic-effective speaking (substantial locution). It is now well known that the Hebrew idea of word, dabar, was not a mere intellectual representation of reality but a dynamic power. Just as the rain and snows come down from the heavens and produce food, so God's word comes down and achieves its effects (Is 55:10-11)~ The divine ~ord acts; it does things. It is like fire and a hammer that sunders rocks (Jr ,23:29). It is active, alive; it judges, divides and cuts like a two-edged sword (Heb 4: 12). Yahweh's word alone caused all creation to be (Gn 1 and 2). Jesus' words are spirit and life (Jn 6:63). This dynamic-effective speaking (substantial locution) is not merely an assisting enlightenment (the first manner) nor an ideational speaking (~the second manner). It is a powerful producing-in-the-soul of what it says. St. John of the Cross calls this communication substantial because it im-presses its meaning in the very substance of the recipient's being. The word does what it says. "For example," notes the saint, "if our Lord should say formally to the soul: 'Be good,'oit would immediately be substantially good; or if He should say: 'Love Me,' it would:at once have and experience. within itself the substance of the love of God; or if He should say to a soul in great fear: 'Do not fear,, it would without delay feel ample fortitude and tranquillity.''zx These dynamic~effective communications are the most excellent for several .reasons. One is that deceit, is impossible, since the devil cannot pro-duce this .goodness within one. Another is that these locutions impart "incomparable blessings" of life and goodness to the person who receives them. There is consequently nothing to fear or to reject. The recipient need do nothing about them "because God never grants them for that purpose, but He bestows them in order to accomplish Himself what they express.'':2 Divine Message and Human Fallibility We approach now a problem whose solution is anything but apparent. As a matter of fact it appears on the surface that the union of two factual 191bid. o-°ibid., c. 30, #3-5. °-1Ibid., c. 31, #1; p. 210. °'°'Ibid., c. 31, #2; p. 210. 174 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 premises is impossible. Fact number one: God does speak to certain men and women and He speaks with unfailing truth. Fact number two: these same men and women are often (not just rarely) mistaken in what they hear or think they hear or in what ihey conclude from what they hear, We immediately wonder what the sense of fact number one would' be, given the existence of fact number two. Why would or should God speak to people who often are mistaken in what they hear? One answer to this question is obvious on a momentrs reflection. A fruitful source of error in this area is a simple mistaking of the source of the locution. People often think they are listening to the Spirit when lie is .not speaking at all--or at least He is not saying what they think He is saying. We may not hold God responsible for what He did not say. Yet a problem remains: even when God does speak, the r.ecipient may either not hear or distort what~ he did hear or conclude invalidly from it. Why, then, should God speak when this may be the likely result? One response is identical to what we would say about any human speaking to a fellow human: failure to hear or distortion of the statement or invalid conclusion are always possible. Anyone who has lectured knows this from personal experience. It is remarkable how many people do not hear what you have said (or read what you have written). Yet we do not for that reason cease :speaking or writing. God .speaks to His people for the same reason we do: many do hear, and hear rightly. A lecturer or writer admit-_ tedly takes risks in sharing his thoughts publicly. He knows some will miss the message, while others wittingly or unwittingly will twist it. Yet he also knows that others will hear rightly. God loves us so much that He 'al-lows some to distort His word so that He may communicate intimately with those who will not. There are two reasons according to St. John of the Cross why a divine communication, even when perfectly authentic, can be the occasion for the recipient to be misled regarding it. The first reason is our crude way of understanding the divine mind. Explaining why not all revelations turn out as we expect them to turn out, that is, in their literal sense, the saint notes one reason to be that "since God is immense and profound, He usually embodies in His prophecies, locutions, and revelations other ways, con-cepts and ideas remarkably different from the meaning we generally find in them. And the surer and more truthful they are, the less they seem so to us."'-'~ The saint goes on to illustrate our usual "extremely literal method" with biblical examples. In making His covenant with Abram the Lord God promised that he would give the patriarch a new land. The latter understood this literally of his own personal possession and inquired what the sign of it would be (Gn 15:7-8). However, Abram died before .his possessing the land and "~.~lbid., c. 19, #1; p. 163. The Spirit Speaks: When and How? / 175 so one might have supposed' the divine promise mistaken. But it is the supposition that was mistaken .because it was based on a literal under-standing. Abram was given this land in his descendants as was explained a few verses further on (vv. 18-19). When God's people read that the Messiah was to rule from sea to sea, that His foes would bow down before him and lick the dust of the earth (Ps 72:8-9), they had a true prophecy but they misunderstood His rule to be temporal, whereas it was inner and eternal. So also the disciples on the road to Emmaus were reproved by the risen Lord for being dull and slow in failing to understand what the prophets had announced concerning the Messiah (Lk 24:25). St. John of the Cross concludes~ that "evidently, then, ~even though the words and revelations be from God, we cannot find assurance in them, since in our understanding of. them we can easily be deluded, and extremely so.''24 If this could happen in biblical times with genuine divine communications, it surely can happen in our times. The Carmelite points out that in divine words "God always refers to the more important and profitable meaning,'''5 whereas we tend to see in those same words something less important,' something perhaps merely temporal, even trivial or selfish. This is why the man of the flesh, to use Pauline terminology, the worldly man, cannot (not simply, does not) understand the things of God.(1 Co 2:14). He is too materialistic, too crass, too literal to grasp the divine meaning. One must undergo a con-version, get rid of his worldliness, says Paul, in order to come to know the perfect will of God (Rm 12:2). The second reason why an authentic divine communication can be mis-applied by the recipient is that God's judgment may be~conditional, and that without the knowledge of the human person. God's word or promise may so depend on some contingent event that when that event does or does not occur, so also the divine degree does or does not take~ effect. John cites Jonah's proclamation that Nineveh shall be destroyed in forty days (Jon 3:4). Yet the city was not destroyed because the people repented and did penance: The cause of the decree, human sin, was removed by penitence and so was the decree itself. They especially who do not understand the unfathomable abysses of the divine mind easily suppose they do understand. John of the Cross, who surely experienced God as few others have, supposed otherwise: "Be-lieve me," he concluded, "a person cannot completely grasp the meaning of God's locutions and deeds, nor can he determine this by appearances without extreme error and bewilderment.~''z5 Z4lbid., c. 19, #10; p. 167. God does not necessarily prevent even a genuine mystic from being mistaken in his understanding of an authentic communication. z~Ibid., c. 19, # 12; p. 168. ~ Z~lbid., c. 20, #6; p. 171. 176 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 Assisting Enlightenment and Human Fallibility What we have thus far considered regarding the divine message and human fallibility St. John of the Cross applies to visions as well as to locu-tions. We may now turn our attention specifically to what he calls suc-cessive locutions and I have termed God's assisting enlightenments. When the Holy Spirit aids us in prayerful pondering, is it likely that we can be mistaken in our conclusions? In itself the light of the Spirit can never be mistaken. He who is the tyuth can do nothing but illumine with the truth. However, the light He bestows is often so delicate and lofty that it leaves considerable room for human activity. And when we have room for human activity, we have room for error--unless there be a special divine intervention as is the case with the charism of infallibility given to the Church herself. The possibility of error is present especially in what we deduce and conclude from the divine enlightenment. The light of the Holy Spirit, says John, "is often so delicate and spiritual that the intellect does not succeed in ~being completely in-formed by it; and it is the intellect that of its own power, as we stated, forms the propositions. Consequently the statements are often false, or only apparent, or defective.'':~ This is important. Many of us seem to assume that "listening to the SpirW' means listening to neat, specific conclusions that God somehow inserts into the mind. And we further assume that if we have .an idea we think good it must be He who inserted it. Not so. That sort of neat "formu-lation- insertion" I would call an extraordinary private revelation, not a usual assisting enlightenment. In the latter case it is we who draw the conclusion, and it may be true or untrue, wise or unwise, loving or unloving. History bears out the solidity of this analysis. All through the ages there have been men and women who have expressed a profound conviction that their messages, even the most bizarre and untenable messages, have been spoken by God Himself. They seem not to suspect that they have them-selves contributed anything to their conclusions. John was able to write of this problem in terms that may startle us by their relevance: "I greatly fear what is happening in these times of ours: If any soul whatever after a bit. of meditation has in its recollection one of these locutions (succes-sive), it will immediately baptize all as coming from God and with such a supposition say, 'God told me,' 'God answered me.' Yet this is not so, but, as we pointed out, these persons themselves are more often the origin of their locution.''-~ P. de Letter is of the same mind. Remarking that even genuine charismatics can add human particulars of time and place to an authentic divine message, he notes that "they themselves are generally ~-Tlbid., c. 29, #3; p. 204. '-'Slbid., c. 29, #4; p. 204. The Spirit Speaks." When and How? / 177 unable to make a distinction between the divine and human elements."~"' A. Poulain and K. Rahner speak of the commonness of,human errors added to divine communications.:'" At this point one may ask how our intellect may be more completely informed by the light of God and thus be less subject to its proclivity to adulterate the delicate divine light with its own human shortsightedness. The answer is gospel goodness in general and the light of deep ., faith in particular. According to St. Paul the only way to attain to God's mind and know His perfect will is to put aside worldliness and.undergo conversion (Rm 12:2). The judgment of St. John of the Cross is the same: "The purer and.more refined a soul is in faith, the more infused .charity it possesses, and the more charity it has the more'the Holy Spirit illumines it and com-municates His gifts, because charity is the means by which they are com-municated,'''~' We see the truth of this in everyday life. Simple people of much love far surpass unloving intellectuals in basic wisdom. Diverse Origins of "Inner Lighls" There is yet another aspect to our problem, namely the origin of the enlightenment. Thus far we have supposed the light to come from God. Our theology of discernment of spirits speaks in the plural: spirits. St. John is of like mind. "Manifestly, then, these successive locutions can originate in the intellect from any of three causes: the divine Spirit, Who moves and illumines the intellect; the natural light of the intellect; and the devil who can speak to it through suggestion.":"-' While ~most people are willing to grant that .their own biases and preferences may suggest ideas to their minds, a goodly number may me~ely smile at the suggestion that the devil may be their origin. Even though this is not the place to adduce the ample biblical and magisterial evidences for diabolical reality and activity, it may be useful to point out that we do not pick and choose among, the data of divine revelation. Sound exegesis by all means. But nonetheless one accepts the whole Christ message or he shows that his criterion of acceptance or not is his own judgment rather than the divine word. After a review of biblical evidences, the Scripture scholar, Leopold Sabourin, concludes that "whoever reads"the New Testament with-out pr.econceptions or myth phobia should easily agree" that there is clear evidence of the existence of a personal hostile power and that this is an essential element in New Testament teaching. Sabourin also refers to e:,p. de Letter, New Catho'lic Encyclopedia, 12:446-447. .~oSee their works~ respectively Graces o[ Interior Prayer and Visions attd Prophecies. I also have touched on this point in "The Problematics of Discernment," Spiritual Li[e, Summer, 1974, pp. 135-147. .~lSt. John of the Cross, Ascent o] Mt Carmel, Bk 2, c. 29, #6; p. 205. .~-lbid., c. 29, :~ 11; p; 206. Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 Lyonnet's judgment regarding St. Paul's assertions on the devil: "To con-clude from these passages that Satan is for the Apostle a pure personifica-tion of the forces of evil would be to contradict as a whole the biblical and Pauline doctrine.''33 Our best theologians'write in the same vein. "The existence of angels," observes Karl Rahner, "cannot be disputed in view of the conciliar declarations (D 428, 1783). Consequently it will be firmly maintained that the existence of angels and demons is affirmed in Scripture and not merely assumed as a hypothesis which we could drop today.''34 If inner enlightenment may originate in other than divine sources, the question of discernment immediately arises. Can we know in a trustworthy manner the origin of our inner lights? Does the Spirit make Himself known? How do we detect Him? Whaf would be the signs of His activity as dis-tingnished from diabolical ,activity? Scripture, and especially the New Testa-ment, says so much about these questions that a mere article could not be adequate to report it all. Even less can a part of this article suffice. I may touch, however, only briefly on a number of considerations. Testing of the Spirits Jesus Himself leads the way to the later New Testament insistence that the spirits must be tested by the structural elements in the Chui'ch. The signal importance of this testing occurs, for example, in His prayer for Simon Peter. Significantly, this prayer centers on disturbances among the faithful caused by Satan. And the disturbances occur in the area of faith commit-ment. Jesus prays that after Peter's conversion he will strengthen his brothers and keep them firm despite satanic influences: "Simon, Simon! Remember that Satan has asked for you, to sift you all like wheat. But have prayed for you that your faith may n~ver fail. You in turn must strengthen your brothers" (Lk 22:31-32 NAB).3~ Jesus' prayer is always efficacious: what he prays for happens. Thus Peter's service in the Church is an effective faith service. While the devil does his best to disturb and dis-rupt, Peter tests him, unmasks him, overcomes him, protects the brothers and sisters in: their commitment to the Lord. It is obvious that Peter can confirm and strengthen in the faith only those who accept and listen to him. God forces no one. This is why St. Ignatius of Loyola, a leading figure in the history of discernment practice, considered the Successor of Peter the first tester of spirits and thus the last word on earth. This is why Ignatius (and other saints are of like mind) did not consider an important ~aLeopold Sabourin, "The Miracles of Jesus (II). Jesus and the Evil Powers," Biblical Theology Bulletin, June, 1974, p. 153. 34"Angels," Sacramentum Mundi, I : 32. aSSee Raymond E. Brownl Karl P. Donfried and John Reumann, editors, Peter in the New Testament, pp. 119-125. The Spirit Speaks." When and How? / 179 discernment process c.omplete until the Holy Father had approved the communal decision Ignatius and his companions had reached. St. Paul himself who received a direct commission from the risen Jesus nonetheless submitted his work to "the leading men" in Jerusalem to obtain their approval (Ga 2:2). Outer testing of the inner spirits is absolutely crucial if authentic enlight-enment is to be kept free of illuminist counterfeits and their bizarre conse-quences. o~Whatever else may be said about the illuminist, there is no doubt that no one can correct him. He is so sure of his privileged access to the mind of God that no other, not even Peter, can successfully point out to him that he is straying. Yet the very Spirit who speaks in our inner hearts has Himself established the outer structure to test the inner message. "Keep watch over yourselves," said Paul to the overseer-bishops of Ephesus, "and over the whole flock the Holy Spirit has given you to guard.' Shepherd the Church of God . . ." (Ac-20:28). The saints instinctively live this principle. St. Teresa of Avila, for example, a woman clearly led by the Spirit, strongly desired that, her works be examined and corrected and approved. Reaction Patterns It is interesting to observe the widely differing reactions people preseiat to the allegations that the Holy Spirit has spoken to someone or that He commonly enlightens from.within. We can speak of a reaction spectrum. At one end of it are those who ridicule the whole idea. They may be theists;~' but they just do not accept that God says anything particular to anyone. The objectivity of divine revelation is enough for them (though they may forget that the prophets and apostles had subjective experiences of God), .and so they look upon the charismatic renewal as a subjective enthusiasm. These people would probably pass up the present article because the title of-it indicates that the Holy Spirit does speak to men and women today. At the other end of the spectrum are those who readily believe that the Holy Spirit speaks. The~e people believe that ,He speaks often and that it is easy. to be in touch with Him. They tend to be uncritical and so are easily persuaded that their thoughts and desires and aspirations derive from God Himself. They would probably be attracted b3~ the title of this article but would tend to reject what I have said about the errors and illusions that abound in much of alleged "listening to God." Thus our subject is a touchy one. The Church's position lies somewhere in the midst of the two extremes of nothing or all. There are valid experi-ences of God and they are to be valued. He does enlighten those who are purified sufficiently to perceive His light. But there are also illusory experi-ences that are nothing more than unfounded persuasions. These can be found among people who are convinced that God is speaking to them, when as a matter of fact nothing of the sort is happening. Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 Practical Suggestions Supposing then that they are sons of God who are led by the Spirit of God (Rm 8:14), and yet that all things are to, be tested (1 Th 5:19-22), we may ask what this biblical position requires in everyday life. How does one tread the path of the golden mean between two extremes? 1 ) Hard-nosed evidence. While we should value the divine interven-tions in everyday life, we should not suppose them unless the biblical con-ditions are fulfilled. We do not presume, for example, that a proud or vain person is listening to the Spirit. Jesus has made it clear that the Father does not reveal His mysteries to the conceited but only to the little ones (Lk 10:21). A competent spiritual director looks for gospel holiness before he accepts that his client is "listening to the Spirit." This is why for centuries knowledgeable priests have discounted alleged divine phenomena in proud or disobedient people. Those who reject the outer word cannot be hearing the inner word. God does not contradict Himself. 2) No finite idea expresses God adequately and "thus we ought not to cling to it. One of the most valuable contributions offered by St. John of the Cross to this question of listening to God's voice can be missed even in a careful study of his work. It is that the most important element in most di-vine communications is not the clear idea, the detailed course of action to be followed. It is the love-penetrated touch of the divine in dark faith, a touch that itself communicates humility, love, prayer, strength, peace, joy. The most valuable gift God can communiqate to anyone is Himself, and He is no thing, no idea, no pattern of action. The Love Who is God is poured out0into our hearts by the Holy Spirit Who is given to us (Rm 5:5). Once we understand this we have gone a long way in understanding .John's severity in making so little of locutions and visions. The~saint recommends that the recipient of divine communications pay little attention to them, because if he gets attached to them, he feeds on them rather than on God.36 One likewise' begins to consider himself especially favored by God and,to look down on others who, in his opinion, do not enjoy this same enlighten-ing by the Spirit. The attachment can become a stubborn refusal to listen to anyone who may disagree because "I am listening to God." Clinging .to a finite communication, this person fails "to soar to the heights of dark faith.''3~ And in pilgrimage it is only in faith that we journey to the father-land (Heb 11"13-16). 3) Little attention is to be given to inner communications. I suspect that many people are surprised if not shocked at the attitude St. John of .~6The total renunciation demanded by Jesus is applicable here: "Unless a man re-nounce all he possesses he cannot be My disciple." (Lk 14".33) Even an idea about God is not God. '~rSt. John of the Cross, Ascent o] Mt Carmel, Bk 2, c. 18, #2; p. 160. The Spirit Speaks: When and How? / 181 the Cross takes toward inner enlightenments. He repeatedly advises the recipient to pay little attention, even no attention to them. The saint is so strong on this point that unless one is well acquainted with his whole teaching and life, he might conclude that John scarcely believed that God does communicate with the human person. Yet the saint, deeply believed in this .communication and in his own person enjoyed the very loftiest favors. Because his teaching is surprising to many of us, it may be well to offer here"a summation of it. We may first see two examples typical of the saint's statements of rejection, and then we will consider several reasons for the advice. Speaking of imaginative visions or "other supernatural communi-cations" received by the senses and independent of one's free will, John asserts 'q affirm that at whatever time or season (in the state of perfection or one less perfect) an individual must not desire to give them admittance, even though they.come from.God.''~s Later on in the same work as he discusses successive locutions the saint again says that "we should pay no heed to them, but be . . . content with knowing the mysteries and truths in~- the simplicity and verity~ with which the Church proposes them.'':''' This advice admittedly runs counter to what most of us. would expect. We would think that if God speaks,, we should pay attention, close atten-~ tion. We would consider a rejection of.the communication an insult to the speaker of it. Why is ~John (and other saints) of this mind? The first reason is the likelihood of illusion, deception. St. John o[ the Cross would surely agree that when God speaks, we listen carefully. This is precisely why the saint clings so tenaciously to Scripture and the teaching Church. Public revelation is sure and free from illusion and so is the teach-ing of the divinely commissioned Church, pillar of truth (l Tm 3:15). Private revelation is often not sure, that is, what is commonly thought to be revealed by God is not revealed at all. St. Paul was of this mind. He told the Galatians in no uncertain terms that even if .an.angel from heaven were to teach them something contrary to what they learned from human lips, they were to reject it (Ga 1:6-9). In other words, Paul was saying that such private "~revelation" was not revelation from God at all. When one pays much attention to "communications" he leaves the sure path of faith for the unsure path of "what 1 heard, what I received, what I see." History tells a 10ng and sad tale of the illusions that abound in this second path. Secondly, p,eop.le who are much concerned with God speaking within tend to neglect clear duties without. "On judgment day," says our Carmelite guide, "God will punish the faults and sins of many with whom He com-muned familiarly here below and to whom He imparted much light and 3Slbid., c. 17, #7; p. 158.- :~.~lbid., c. 29, -#:12; p. 207. Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 power. For they neglected their obligations and trusted in their converse with Him.''.'° John then illustrates his idea with. the words of Jesus, "When that day comes, many will plead with Me, 'Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Your name? Have we not exorcised demons by its power? Did we not do many miracles in Your name as well?' Then I will declare to them solemnly, 'I never knew you. Out of my sight, you evildoers!' " (Mt 7:22~23). Doing the Father's will (Mt 7:21) is more important than receiving special .favors from God. St. Paul repeats this truth when he tells the Corinthians that their most marvelous charisms (including the gifts of healing, miracles, tongues) are of,no value without love (1 Co 13:1-3). The Carmelite explains how spiritual directors shouldguide people in faith, not in supposed special communications. These directors "should explain how one act done in charity is more precious in God's sight than all the visions and communications possible--since they imply n~ither m~rit nor demerit--and how many who have not received these experiences are in-comparably .more advanced than others who have had many.''~1 This last remark is both sobering and comforting. A third reason is a core reason. I have said above that the deepest value in a. divine communication does not lie in clear concepts or blueprints for future action. It lies in a deeper drinking of the divine, a drinking that is general, dark, non-ceptual, love-immersed. If a person pays much atten-tion to the clear words or ideas he has "heard" at prayer, he is absorbed in finite particulars rather than with the God who ,is infinitely beyond even the best concept. In pilgrimage we' journey to God best not in clear ideas but .in dark faith; Paying little attention to "communications" is wise, fourthly, because a subtle vanity easily seeps into persons preoccupied with "listening to the Spirit" in a self-conscious way. Like the pharisee in the parabl.e (Lk 18: 9-14) they may begin to consider themselves unlike the rest of men. Need-less to say, this attitude is not one conducive to growth in love.'~ Fifthly, giving attention to inner communications carries with it the need to discern their origin, whether they come from God, the' devil, or' one's own unrealized desires.":' While the work of discernment is. advisable for important matters, one can hardly seek out a spiritual, guide and/or engage in long prayerful study for routine everyday affairs. If one is an avid "listener to messages,", the alternatives are a preoccupation with analysis or ¯ ~Olbid., c. 22, #!5; p. 185. ~'lbid., c. 22, # 19; p. 187. ~ '~-°"They think something e~traordinary has occurred and that God his spoken, whereas in reality little more than nothing will have happened, or nothing at all, or even less than nothing. If an experience fails to engender humility, charity, mortification, holy simplicity, and silence, etc., of what value is it?" Ibid., c. 29, .#5; pp. 204-205; "albid., c. 17, #7; p. 158. ' The Spirit Speaks: When and How? an unfounded assumption that "it all comes from the Lord." Even a saint does not assume the latter. Finally, the recipient of an.authentic communication from God does not need to pay attention to it in order to derive its benefits. This many people do not realize. God produces the good effects of His communication with-out the recipient being able to prevent it. "A person," says John, "cannot hinder the goods God desires to impart, nor in fact does he do so, except by some imperfection or possessiveness.''44 By renouncing all divine communications° (and John includes visions, locutions, fragrances, pleasures, words) "a. person takes from these apprehensions only what God wants him*to take, that is, the spirit of devotion, since God gives them for no other principal reason.''4'~ The same is true of the lesser assisting enlightenment.4~ Paying little attention to inner enlightenments' is for all these reasons a sensible reaction that combines a vivid faith in the indwelling Trinity with a sober refusal to succumb to a credulous illuminism. These reasons also explain the remaining bits of practical advice. 4) Use of reason as a source ~of light. God expects us to use ordinary means~ to achieve ordinary ends. If I break a leg, he expects me to get it set by a doctor. I may pray for divine healing but not at the expense of refusing ordinary medical help. We should surely pray for divine enlightenment but not at the expense of refusing to study and consult. Where .human reason is sufficient to solve problems "usually God does not manifest such matters through visions, revelations, and locutions, because He is ever desirous that man insofar as possible take advantage of his own reasoning powers. All matters must be regulated by reason save those of faith, which though not contrary to reason transcend it.''47 This is a mystic with his feet on planet earth. 5) A divine Message needs human approval. This advice is shocking. It seems the reversal of the truth: a human message needs divine approval. A distinction is in order. When the divine message° is public, it needs no approval other than that~ required by Christ Himself. That is, it needs the acceptance of no merely human court. St. Paul explicitly declared that it made not the slightest difference to him whether any human tribunal found him worthy or not (1 Co 4:3). Yet the same apostle submits his divinely received commission from the risen Lord to the authorities in Jerusalem (Ga 2:2, 6, 10). All the more when a divine message is a private revelation must it be approved by due authority. 441bid. "t51bid., c, 17, #9; p. 159. 46"The profit produced by a successive locution will not be received from focusing one's attention on it. Through such behavior a person instead would be driving away the locution." Ibid., c. 29, #7; p. 205. ~ ~ 4"rlbid., c. 22, #13; p. 184. Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 The New Testament.consistently requires supposedly divine communi-cations to be submitted to the approval of the Lord's representatives. This we already find in the earliest,New Testament document. The gifts of the Spirit are not to be suppressed but they are to be tested (1 Th 5:1.9-22). They who want to hear Jesus must be prepared to hear~His representatives; otherwise they are rejecting Him (Lk 10:16; Jn 13:20). The heretics at the close of the first century are known to be false prophets because they refuse to listen to the leaders of the ekklesia ( 1 Jn 4: 1, 6). St. John of the Cross, therefore, is asking no more than the New Testa-ment when he teaches that one ought not to do what a locution tells him un-less he receives a human approval. The saint does not tire of insisting on this biblical point: "We must be guided humanly and visibly in all by the law of Christ the man and that of His Church and of His ministers. This is the method .of remedying our spiritual ignorances and weaknesses. One should disbelieve anything coming in a supernatural way, and believe only the teaching of Christ, the man,~as I say, and of His ministers who are men . (In the Old Testament) the people were to believe that God spoke to them through the mouth of these prophets and priests and not through their own opinion.'''s John supports his teaching from St. Paul who demanded that the Galatians set aside whatever they think an angel from heaven might say in favor of what human teachers have taught (Ga 1:6-9). In tile. work of spiritual direction I consistently find that persons who give every sign of genuine prayer development and authentic holiness in-stinctively follow this practice, The Holy Spirit gives them the inner in-clination, even a felt need to submit the apparently divine communication to a priest in whom they can confide.4'~ This inclination may be taken as a sign of a genuine communication from God, whereas its absence suggests otherwise?° This advice is, of course, consistent with all else we h~ve studied above. Christ did not establish an angelism, an invisible Church. He takes our "bodyliness". seriously. He operates now both immediately through His Holy Spirit working invisibly and mediately through His human representatives ¯ ~Slbid., c. 22, #7, 8; pp. 181-182. ~.'~"God is so content that the rule and direction of man be ihrough other men, and that a person be governed by natural reason, that He definitely does not want us to bestow entire credence upon His supernatural communications, nor be confirmed in their strength and security until they pass through this human channel of the mouth of man. As often as He reveals something to a person, He confers upon his soul a kind of inclination to manifest this to the appropriate person." Ibid., c. 22, #9; p. 1.82. .~0The saint connects this'trait with humility: "This is the trait of a humble person: he does not dare deal with God independently, nor can he be completely~ satisfied without human counsel and direction." Ibid., c. 22, :~11; p. 183. The Spirit Speaks: When and How? / 1:85 worki.ng visibly. So great is the likelihood of illusion and misinterpretation in the subjective realm that an objective evaluation is indispensable. What should be done when a competent guide is not available we consider next. 6) Competent spiritual direction. A qualified and experienced guide when faced with alleged divine communications sees them, of course, in their context. He considers the recipient's lifestyle, whether it is character-ized by love, joy, humility, detachment, obedience. The Father and the Son do not reveal themselves to the unloving and the proud (Jn 14:21; Lk 10:21). St. Paul told the Galatians that what the Spirit brings to His own is not self-indulgence or temper or fa~ctions or impurity but rather love, joy, peace, patience, gentleness, self-control (Ga 5: 19-22). I find repeatedly in spiritual direction that a deep prayer life, a genuine communion with God indwelling, is invariably.accompanied by these New Testament criteria. The spiritual director usually does well not to make much of the com-munication reported to him (although he belittles neither the person nor the report). If the communication is from God, its chief good effects are already achieved. If it is not from God, the less attention paid to it the better. Religious still complain, as did St. Teresa of Avila four centuries ago, of the lack of knowledgeable spiritual directors. What should one do if he cannot find a competent guide? It is my opinion that in the area of advanc-ing prayer as also in this matter of alleged communications, no direction is preferable to probably incompetent direction. A great deal of damage can be done by well-intentioned but faulty guidance. St. John of the Cross seems to have been of the same mind. After advising that formal locutions should be manifested to "an experienced confessor or to a discreet and wise person," he adds that "if such an expert person cannot be found, it is better not to speak of these locutions to anyone, but simply pay no attention to them, for a soul can easily fall into the hands of some persons who will tear it down rather than build it up. Souls should not.discuss these locutions with just anyone, since in so serious a matter being right or wrong is of such importance.TM 7) Growth in ]aith. A pilgrimage people travels not by vison but by faith (Heb 11:13-16; 1 Co 13:12). Toward the beginning of this article we considered that when God deals with private persons (as distinguished from the publicly commissioned heralds of His revelation), He usually com-municates with them in the general know!edge of dark faith. Even when He may offer a specific message, He wants it confirmed by the appropriate human authority. The proximate means by which we are united to God is nothing finite and created. It is the adherence to God Himself revealed in His Word. The 51Ibid., c. 30, :~5; p. 209. 186 / Review lor Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 stronger this clinging to Him, the more readily He communicates with the one clinging?-~ For St. Paul only the converted, the holy can detect the mind of God and know His perfect will (Rm 12:2). The more one is transformed by faith andlove the more God can pour out' additional light and love into his heart and mind. In this way we are transformed from one glory to an-other by the indwelling Spirit (2 Co 3:18). r"-"'The Holy Spirit illumines the intellect that is recollected," says John, "and He illumines it according to the mode of its recollection, and the intellect can find no better recollectt0n than in faith, and thus the Ho.ly Spirit wili not illumine it in any othei" recollection more than'in faith. The purer and more refined a soul is in faith, the more infused charity it possesses, and the more charity it has the more the Holy Spirit illumine it and communicates His gifts."lbid., c. 29, #6; p. 205. To A Benedictine Were you a dawn-rising monk in a black-robed hood Meditating in a Kansas winter wood? As you shuffled to chapel in bare, black sandals Lighting beeswax tapered candles-- Did you gaze into Christ's~bleeding eyes On His altar crucifix? And soul-long as all souls long for an unearthly Paradise As your hand touched His candlesticks? Later in your journeys all around the U.S.A.-- Did you study, thought-penetrate all people's problemed way? Did you want to reach the people when the people turned away? Did you find it very difficult sometimes to even pray? For God is ~never lost or ever far away . " But sometimes our paths seem hid and crossed, With clouds hiding tomorrowt darkening our future's way. Yet we know Redempti,on's garment must be woven By our own hands this very day, woven in Christ's design and way. Christ has a certain design, one that's yours, one that's mine, With His holy gift of time, He'll teach us to weave His way. If we don't forget to love Him, listen to what,His voice will say, He'll lift us up, overflow our cup. We'll find a brighter day. Mary Ann Putman 4422~.42nd Ave., S. West Seattle, WA 98116 Reflections on Our Congregation Sister Cecilia Murphy~ R.S.M. Sister Cecilia is Director General of the Sisters of Mercy in Pittsburgh. On the oc-casion of last All Souls~ Day, she reflected with her sisters on the "'many saints of our Congregation" and on the meaning of the Congregation itself. She resides at 3333 Fifth Ave.; Pittsburgh, PA 15213. We as a Congregation have some penetrating questions to answer. Among these questions are: What are we as a religious Congregation? What are we to each other? What is-our Congregational apostolic presence? What witness do we give as Sisters of Mercy? Does our life style reflect that of Christians who believe in the beatitudes and who strive, to live lives of ~simplicity? Do we feel the cost of being consecrated to God or do we dilute the suffering in our lives by compromises? Are ,we joyful people who live other-centered lives? Do we wish to grow and attracL new members? My most vital concerns about the Cqngregation center around questions like these. We must answer these questions as individuals and as a Congrega-tion. No General Director, no Council, no Policy,.Board can answer these questions. Each of us must assume the responsibility ,, to answer these ques-tions. ~ Our Decrees acknowledge the primacy of interior renewal. Are we really attentive to interior renewal? Our focus on external renewal is evident. Our external appearance,, our life style, our behavior patterns have changed greatly since 1966. What has happened to us interiorly? During the past nine years, many of us have suffered intensely from change. Through this suffering we have grown individually and as a Congregation. But, we now need to focus on some aspects~of our lives which need attention from each one of us. Personal prayer, without question, is an absolute necessity for each Sister. Never in our history .has the need for personal prayer been greater, 187 Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 and never have our distractions from prayer been greater. Prayer, as we all know, is not an obligation that we clock of[ at one-half hour periods; it is a way of life; it is a giving of ourselves to the Lord day by day despite the noises of our work and our relaxations. Why did we come to religious life? We must constantly seek to answer this question--not for some other Sister, but for ourselves. Do we as a Congregation witness to the value of prayer in our lives? Do people sense in me, an individual Sister of Mercy, that prayer is a priority? Do I ever take time for a day of retreat? Con-sidering the challenges to our life and to our spirit, these are not questions we can afford to ignore. These are questions that each of us must answer. I am firmly convinced that if we as a Congregation renew ourselves in-teriorly and face the question of personal prayer, we will not be predicting a rate of growth of one new member each year. We must be renewed in our commitment to personal prayer. Prayer presupposes some time for quiet. We live in a noisy world of TV, chatter, and many other noises, but we must remember that we need time and space for prayer. External stillness can help dispose us to God. This quiet cannot be imposed, but I ask eacfi Sister to contribute to a spirit of quiet and calm in her living situation. Thr6ugh this we can better stand before God, be ready for His word, and become more attuned to Him, more in touch with ourselves, our strengths, weaknesses, and potentialities. While we must pray alone, we must also pray together. Communal prayer t~or many Sisters is a source of concern and a disappointment. That in itself is a hopeful sign. I feel that there is a growing concern within us as a Congregation that we want and need to pray together: No one form of prayer will satisfy every Sister at all times~ But we have a right to expect communal prayer from each other. Each group of Sisters living together must continue to'be concerned and to make serious'efforts to pray together. It has been frequently said that communal prayer cannot be a forced situation, in which those who seldom communicate meet to*recite the same words. Prayer requires some union of mind and heart among its partici-pants. Thus, the need for rehewal in prayer touches on vital questions of community, of what we are to each other. By membership in the Congregation we share a bond of religious dedi-cation and a commitment to common ideals~ Sisters of our Congregation should be "special" to us even though we may not share their life Style or dress. We MUST be kind to one another. We cannot destroy each other. We must begin to 'realize that our conversations, our attitudes of hopeful-ness and joy or of complaint and negativism can cause 6thers to be strength-ened and rejoice in their vocations or to lose heart 'and wonder what re-ligious life has done for us. Our attitudes are conveyed in subtle 'ways; our words also tell others how we feel about them and what our values are. We must, if we'are to survive or deserve to survive as a Congregation, take careful account of our attitudes toward each other and toward the Congre~- Reflections on.Our Congregation / 189 gation. Catherine McAuley gave us a legacy of union and charity.Thus, we cannot spend our waking hours, our phone and table conversations gather-ing information ,about other Sisters, judging each other, and using leisure time in pettiness. There is NO time for this. We have;been called to be apostles, to spread, the "good news," to be "good news" to others. None of us, regardless of age or occupation, is exempt from this responsibility. Each of us needs to ask herself: Am I good news to others? Do Sisters consider me a strengthening factor in Congregational life? None of us has a perfect record in this regard. But let us begin again. Let us try to be more aware of our words and attitudes, more supportive of each other, not just as we do so well in times of death and sickness, but every day. Let us likewise reflect upon our attitudes to others outside the Congregation. Are we prejudiced? Are we concerned about others who lack the necessities of life? Are our values really Christian? Living religious life is not easy. It costs a great price. In the New Testa-ment we learn from Christ the cost of discipleship. He was hated, con-fronted, and crucified. He was, for all human purposes, the greatest failure the world has ever known. He did not come to bring us suffering but to teach us how to live with it. To His~ disciples He said: "Take up your cross and follow me". "Unless the seed die, it remains alone". "Un-less you deny yourself . . . " Christ did not igreach an easy message. He did not call His disciples to a life of comfort and security. He said: "The Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head". "the servant is not greater than his Master." It is never easy to be a disciple. It we are comfortable, satisfied and complacent, we have great cause for concern about our Con-gregation. No one who tried to fulfill the will of God did so with comfort and satisfaction. I see in our Congregation some need for each of us to reflect on the meaning of the cost of discipleship. Have I personally lost sight of who I am called to be? Have I compromised and rationalized so that I can have the best of two worlds? I cannot look at another Sister and judge what she has done. I must look at myself. When the Church abrogated the Lenten fast, she intended that we impose new personal penance upon our-selves. Do we do this? The human condition has not changed, nor has our need for self-denial. Each of us is, a sinner and the more we know of God, the more we know how sinful we are. None of us is perfect nor can we forget that we need to make conscious responses in self-denial. Catherine McAuley founded her Congregation on Calvary to serve a crucified Master. Each of us has a share in that mission by our member-ship in this Congregation. Catherine McAuley held ideals of service like: "God knows I would rather be cold and hungry than that His poor should be deprived of any consolation in our power to afford." Is this a reality in my life? Am I willing to be hungry, even occasionally, that others may eat? These are the kinds of questions we must face if we are to be true to the 190 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 spirit of Catherine McAuley. We need God desperately and we need each other desperately. We need to 'be willing to experience conversion personally and as a Congrega-tion. We must be willing to pay the price for this conversion. ~ We can and must be a tremendous potential for good in the Church and the world. We can and we must witness to each other and the world that material goods are NOT the source of our joy nor the values on which we spend our "energies. We need to reflect simplicity--not in a judgmental or self-righteous way but in a spirit of who we are called to be. We can~and we need to reflect a joy'that comes from living with Sisters of joy who belong to God and who are free to be faithful in celibate love. We must focus on what we are to each other in community, We must share not only our goods but ourselves. If we have any struggles today and. are to attract new members to our Congregation, I am convinced we must experience interior renewal and unity of purpose. We know that God is faithful and that He will help us in this. Let us unite together as a Congregation, renewed in our purpose to pursue conversion. May God grant each of us light, strength, patience, and courage so that individually and corporately we will be strengthened to spread the good news, to further God's Kingdom, to be vital Sisters of Mercy. A More Authentic Poverty Horacio de la Costa, S.J. At the time of the 32nd General Congregation of the Society of Jesus, Ft. de la Costa was one of~the four General Assistants to Fr. Arrupe. Subsequent to the Con-gregation, he was able to return to his beloved historical studies and writing, center-ing on the history of the Church in the Philippines. He resides at Xavier House; P.O. Box 2722; Manila 2801; Philippines. A consideration of the D~cree on Poverty of the 32nd. General Congrega-tion of the Society of Jesus must begin with a word about its background. The General Congregation immediately preceding, the 31st, decided that Jesuit legislation on poverty should be brought into conformity with the dispositions of. Vatican II, but at the same time perceived that this would be better done not by itself but by experts reflecting on the matter over a period of time. It therefore elected what are called definitores to draw up Statutes on Poverty which would become Society law, on the authority of the General Congregation itself, upon approval of the. Superior General. In 1967¢ Father General Arrupe approved these Statutes. The 31st General Congregation had provided, further, that the 'Statutes thus adopted be submitted for review to the next General Congregation. Ac-cordingly, Father General Arrupe, having decided after the Congregation of Procurators of 1970 to convene the 32nd General Congregation, ap-pointed a study commission to go over the Statutes and ~:ecommend possi-ble improvements. Some of the delinitores sat in this commission also. Most of its members were moral theologians, jurists, or administrators. Some months before the Congregation convened, Father General expanded the *This article is :being published simultaneously in the current issue of Jesuit Studies (The American Assistancy Seminar in Jesuit Spirituality) entitled: "On Becoming Poor: A Symposium on Evangelical Poverty." 191 Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 membership of tffe commission to include experts from other disciplines and areas of experience. The 32nd General Congregation constituted from among its member-ship its own Commission on Poverty: Commission III. Some of the mem-bers of the pre-Congregation commission, being also congregati, were elected to Commission Ili. Very broadly speaking, it can be said that for the jurid-ical aspects of the' present Decree, the Congregation relied chiefly on the work of the pre-Congregation commission; for its pastoral aspects, on its own Commission III. The Decree itself is divided into three sections. Section A is a declara-tion of what Jesuit poverty should be today in the light of prevailing con-ditions in the Church and in the world. This declaration sets forth the as-cetical and pastoral principles on which is based the dispositive part of the Decree, Sections B-F. Section B, "Norms," gives the prescriptive guidelines for a revision of the Statutes on Poverty, to be undertaken by a commis-sion appointed by Father General, who is to approve and promulgate the revised Statutes. Sections C-F are supplementary provisions concerning certain aspects of the new juridical structure which is being given to the Jesuit practice of poverty. A prinCipal objective which the pre-Congregation commission set for itself was to simplify Jesuit legislation on poverty. It was observed that over the years numerous alterations had been introduced into the primitive legis-lation of the Ignatian Constitutions, usually by obtaining an indult, that is, an exception to the law, from the Holy See; for instance, the indult whereby Jesuits are enabled to accept Mass stipends. Another~ kind- of deviation from the primitive legislation was that of certain accepted anomalies; for :instance, houses of writers.: A house of writers is not, strictly speaking, a "college" in the sense of the Constitu-tions. It is not a house of formation, the only Jesuit institution to which St. Ignatius allowed fixed revenues. Later, however, houses of writers were also permitted fixed revenues, on the grounds that they cannot otherwise carry on their valuable apostolate, since the kind of books Jesuits write are very seldom best-sellers. Similarly, there was no provision in the primitive legislation for the care of the sick and the aged. These were therefore assigned to the same juridical category as the Jesuit seminarians ("scholastics") supported by the colleges. In effect, those retired from the active apostolate were equated with those who had ~not yet begun it, and the arca seminarii, or formation fund, did double-duty as a social-security fund. . There were also accepted ambiguities which amounted to legal fictions. For instance, missionary priests in the Spanish colonies--at least up to the time the Jesuits were expelled therefrom (1767)--received fixed yearly stipends from the government. In the Philippines, this stipend was 100 silver pesos and 100 [anegas (bushels) of rice a year. This was by no means A More Authentic Poverty / 193 a pittance. A silver peso in those days was really made of silver, and its purchasing power was probably a hundred times that of the present metal-alloy peso. At any rate, each missionary priest was able to support with his stipend a missionary ~brother,~and still have something left over toward building a parish church and a parish, house. Now then: this stipend can, with a little stretching of meaning, be called an alms. But the government, and almost everybody else, considered it a salary--so.mething which the Constitutions did not allow for, especially with reference to spiritual min, istries, the normative maxim for which was. to "give freely what you have freely received." A more recent example of ~this ambiguity is the~ salary received by military and hospital chaplains. Military and hospital chaplaincies are certainly valuable, even necessary apostolates, But in many countries of the world, 'the civil law does not allow anyone to become a military or hos-pital chaplain unless he accepts a salary. It does not allow him to give freely what he has freely received. Finally, there was what looked like downright violations of th~ law to those Who ttid not understand or appreciate the need from which they arose. How, ,for instance, was the glorious Japanese mission of the Old SoCiety, founded, by Xavier himself and so fruitful in martyrs, supported?~:Why, by the fantastically .lucrative Macao,Nagasaki silk trade. ,.Portuguese inv~estors in the trade would invest sums for, or on behalf of, the Jesuit Provin(~'of Japan, and the profits from these investments were. what supported' the Province's catechumena~es, houses of formation, mission station~, printing press. Were they alms? Were they fixed revenues? Or were they negotiatio vetita, commerce forbidden to clerics? All these complexities seemed to arise from the fact that thoroughly ~alid and even absolutely essential apostolates could not be undertaken or main-tained without such departures from the primitive legislation. And 'the reason for this was the difference in economic, social, and juridical struc-tures between the modern world, the world that emerged from the Indus-trial Revolution, and the late-medieval world, the world of St. Ignatius. There are all-pervading socioeconomic realities we must take into account today which St. Ignatius and his first companions almost certainly did not foresee. Here are some of them. In many parts of the world, Western and non-Western, capitalist and socialist, there is a decline in the witness value of mendicancy. Living on aims is rarely if at all considered an effective witness to iapostolic fi'eedom and trust in divine Providence, Accompanying this decline is a correspond-ing appreciation of the ethical and social value of work, and of wh.a.t are generally considered to be the natural adjuncts of working for a living, such as the provident setting aside of savings for the future, and the invest-ment of such savings in economic enterprises that generate income. Another difference to be noted between St. Ignatius' time and ours is 194 / Review lor Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 the decline in the modern world of the temporal power .and wealth of the Church,-and the dissolution of medieval forms of union of Church and State. It is no longer possible,for large-scale apostolic enterprises to be financed by endowments granted by pope or prince, by cardinal or'con-quistador. How are large-scale apostolic, :enterprises financed today? Mostly by smal! private donations derived chiefly from the middle class: the people; neither rich nor poor, who enable o religious institutes to train,their seminarians and establish foreign missions. It is a fact, to be acknowledged with gratitude, that in the world as it now is we, depend almost entirely on the bourgeoisie for the financial viability of our apostolic enterprises. On the other hand, we r~eligious are called to live not precisely as bourgeois but as poor men and women. How do we do this, in the world as it now is? How do we set up a structure~for our poverty that will be simple enough and practical enough to enable us to carry on our ministries effectively, and yet live poor? ~ ~ The pre-Congregation commission on poverty mentioned earlier pro-posed that one way of doing this was to accept the basic distinction be-tween communities and apostolic institutes, .a distinction already Sketched out by the definitores of the Statuta of 1967. The 32nd General Congrega-tion ac6epted the :distinction, along with the juridical implications spelled out by'the commission.1 In fact, the Congregation made that distinction the "keystone" of its "reform of the structure of temporal administration.":-' There are, of course, preblems raised by this revision of structure, or foreseen as'following upon it. That is why the Holy Father directs that the Decree be put into practice ad experimentum, so that the. next General Congregation "can re-examine the entire question on the basis of the .experi-ence acquired in the years to come.''3 But ~where the religious life is.con-cerned, juridical structure is usually consequent on a spiritual discernment. In the present case, that discernment is set forth in the expository portion of the Decree (Section A), to which we now turn. The 32nd General. Congregation confirms the findings °of its predecessor on the basis of a review of the Societyrs experience during the decade inter-t" By the law of ~the Society there is to be established a distinction between com-munities and apostolic institutes, at least with regard to the destinatibn and usu-fruct of 'their goods and between the financial accounts of each."--Decree of Poverty B III 1. Apostolic institutes are defined as "those institutions or works .belonging to the Society which~ have a certain permanent unity and organization for apostolic pu,rposes, such as universities, colleges, retreat houses, and other such in which Ours cai'ry on their apostqlic work."--ibid. B I 2. "Th~ goods of apostolic institutes of the Society may not be diverted to the use or profit of Ours except for a suitabl~ remuneration, to be approved by the Provincial, for work in such institutes or for services rendered to the same."--ibid: B IV. ~-lbid. A IV I 1. '~Jean Cardinal Villot to Father General Arrupe, 2 May 1975, n. 5. A More Authenti¢ Poverty / 195 v~ening between them. These findings are chiefly three. First, that our pres-ent pra~ctice of evangelical poverty, falls short of. the norms .established by St. Ignatius and the first companions, and hence, that we must resolutely and perseveringly undertake a renewal of the spirit of poverty according to the specifically Ignatian inspiration. Second, that while we must~ by all means keep the primal norms of~.our poverty intact as far as their substantive de-mands are concerned, we must also adapt them to,the socioeconomic and juridical conditions of our time, very different from those of the time when St. Ignatius and the first companions established them. In other Words, our renewal of the spirit of poverty must be accompanied by a certain adaptation of structures and procedures; it must be a renovatio accoramodata. Third, that in the matter Qf poverty, as in other matters, ,spirit and structure are intimately interdependent; that while the spirit of poverty needs a structure to support it, safeguard it, and make it operative, the structure wilPnot work, will become dead-weight and dead-letter, unless those involved in the structure are imbued with the spirit of poverty and are resolved to make the structure work. The determination of the surplus income of 'a community might serve to illustrate this third finding, namely, the interdependence of spirit~and structure. The surplus income of a Jesuit community cannot be retained. It must be disposed of annually.4, By surplus income iS o meant what is over and-above the expenses and the contingency fund. provided for in the annual budget of the communit~y as determined by its "responsible administrator" with the appr.ovai of the provincial superior.~ The norm for estimating the annual budget is a community style of.life "removed .as far as possible from all infection of avarice and as like as possible to evan-gelical poverty.''6 Ultimately, therefore, this whole rrgime of placing the community on a budget and disposing of annual surpluses will depend on the style of life adopted by the community. It will depend oi~ how seriously the community tries to live up to the norm set by the Congregation, namely, that "the standard of living of our houses should not.be higher than that of a family of slender means whose providers must ,work. hard for its support.''r In a word, it will depend on how much alive the spirit of poverty is among us. For, as the Congregation. says; "While law can support spirit, no legal re-form will profit anything unless all, .our members elect evangelical poverty with courage at the invitation of .the Eternal King, Christ our Lord.,8 , 4Decree on Poverty B VII 1. 51bid. B VI. ~Ibid. B VII 1. rlbid. A llI 7. 8Ibid. A V 13. 196 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 The norm for our standard of living just ~ited may in ~turn serve to illus-trate the second 'of the findings mentioned above, namely, the need for adaptation. It is stated that our standard of living can be lower, but not higher than that of "a family of slender means." Yes; but what are "slender means"? What does "slender" mean? One particularization of the term follows immediately: a family of slender means is one whose providers must work hard for its support. This would seem to exclude unearned in-come, that is, income from'invested funds, at least as a principal source of support for our communities. It would seem to imply that our communities should derive their day-to-day support from the earnings of the day-to-day work of their members. Here is one example of the adaptation to the changed conditions of the times noted earlier. The Congregation itself calls attention to it: "For cen-turies, the perfection of religious poverty was found in mendicancy . He was .counted poor who lived on alms, placing all his hopes in the provi-dence of God operative through benefactors. With growing clarity the Church invites religious to submit to the common law .of labor. 'Earning your own living and that of your brothers and sisters, helping the poor by your work--these are the duties incumbent upon you.' '''~ This may possibly explain why the Congregation does not have'recourse to the gauges or measuring rods of religious poverty devised in times past. Such ~as, that religious poverty is a poverty of dependence~. dependence, in the first instance, on the superior, but through him, dependence on the providence of God "operative through benefactors,'--that is, dependence on alms. The emphasis today is not on alms but on work. Or again, that our poverty should be assimilated to that of honesti sacerdotes, reputable secular priests; for while the reputable secular priests of former times did live very slenderly, they were nevertheless supported by "livings,~' that ig, stable revenue derived chiefly from landed property. However, it must not be thought that the Congregation excluded mendi-cancy-~ dependence on alms for support--altogether. Neither did it sup-pose that religious who live on alms do not work. We should give it credit for a certain measure of realism. It is a fact that many of our, hardest work-ers are dependent~ on alms for their support; for instance, missionaries. It is also a fact that in certain regions of the world today, for instance, in those countries behind the Iron Curtain where the Church is permitted tO exist~ Jesuits can live and work only i~ supported by free-will offerings. And it is equally a fact that even in those regions of the world where the right of the Church to exist is recognized, much of the work we have to do as ministers of the Gospel does not have a financial remuneration attached to it. Thus, while we should by all means adapt ourselves to the work-ethic of our time, we should guard against pressing too closely the work-income ~'lbid. A II 4, citing Vat. II, PC n. 13, ET n. 20. A More Authentic Poverty / '197 nexus. It is my impression~ that the Congregation was fully .aware of the dangers of doing so; fully aware that it could introduce among us what usually accompanies the work ethic, namely the market orientation. It is not too far-fetched to foresee an evolution of attitude after this fashion: One begins by looking around for compensated.work in order to be able to contribute to the support of .one's community. One goes on to. prefer compensated to non-compensated work, the apostolic value of the Works being roughly ~equal. A gradual, perhaps a very gradual, an almost imper-ceptible reversal of values then takes place, whereby the value of apostolicity becomes Jsecondary to the value of marketability. Such a process might even end up with an alternative version of Surplus Value, namely, that wages represent an apostolic "surplus" over and above the apostolic value of the work itself, and hence that the better compensated work is the more apostolic work. Besides vitally affecting our choice of ministries, a too rigid interpreta-tion of the duty of ~"earning your.own' living and that of your brothers and sisters" could introduce in the Society--int~ormally, to be sure, but palpably another system of grades, one based not on presbyteral function but on earning capacity. Those engaged in gainful employment and thus con-tribute to the,support of the community would, for all practical purposes, be the professed; those not thus engaged, and hence are supported by the community, °would be the coadjutors. Such a stratification would tend to bring our c"0mmunity life down to a purelyhuman level, and may well have disastrous consequences: assumption of privilege by the ~gainful workers, frustration and resentment on the part of the "unprofitabl~ servants." Are these purely conjectural hypotheses, or do we perceive them even now, in certain parts of the Society, as a~ cloud no bigger than a man's hand? At any rate, we have from the'Congregation a reminder that the adoption of the work ethic--as, indeed, the adoption of any valid principle of action--involves risk. "The frequent engagement of Ours in professions and salaried offices it not without dangers, not only for the spirit of gratu-ity, but even, for the observance of common life itself. SuCh work is to be chosen only as a more effective means to the communication of faith, with-out thought of remuneration or of the privileges attached'to an office.''1° But to get back to the slender-means norm. Besides the fact that it.is means acquired by work, present hard work, rather than a stable income from invested funds, what other nuances can give it sharper definition? Perhaps this, that it should be a deliberate renunciatibn of consumerism, of "the appetite for enjoyment and consumptign of material goods" which, as the Congregation points out, "spreads everywhere and verges on a prac-tical atheism.''11 At least that. "At the very least, religious poverty should lOlbid. A III 8. 111bid. A II 3. 198 / Review ]or Religious,~ Volume 35, 1976/2 try hard to limit rather than:, to expand consumption,!~ :says. the Congrega-tion. 1-° ,.~ Another. nuance of the :slender,means norm is that our style Of life should be pitched at a level which enables and encourages us not only to work for t.h.e, poor but with ithe poor. In order to do that~ we need to i"acquire some experience of their condition;" and even of their "miseries and distress." This, the Congregation says, is a necessary consequence of the basic option we have made regarding our apostolate today, namely, "comniitment to the cause of justice and to the service of the poor.''13 It is with this nuance that the Congregation repeats ,St, 'Ignatius' injunction "to love poverty as a mother and, within the measure of holy discretion, experience some of its effects as occasions arise. Here, then, are some of the specifications that might make the slender-means norm of our voluntary poverty less abstract, more applicable to real, life .situations: Our style of life should be that of the worker rather than the rentier;.it should put out: of our reach the open-ended self-indulgence of . the consumer society; it should afford us some~direct experience of what the involuntarily poor of today have to put up with, so that we can the more realistically and effectively help them to help themselves. I must con-fess, however, that even so, for me personally, the slender-means norm remains somewhat 'fuzzy around the edges. And I think I see:the reason why in ~a statement in obliquo of the Congregation itself. It expresses regret that we have no other word.to designate the poverty of ~the.~)religous life except the word "poverty." This is regrettable ~because "poverty means very different things to different people.''.~ Indeed it does. Not only that; different people (and therefore different Jesuits) can hold their different views of poverty honestly and sincerely, without hy-pocrisy or cynicism. Further: the reasons why they hold these different views are not always myths but often realities. Thus, a Jesuit style of life really and truly considered poor in Australia or West Germany may well be considered really and truly :affluent in Ecuador or Indonesia; not neces-sarily because Ecuadorian and Indonesian Jesuits are religious of strict ob: servance, while Australian. and West-German Jesuits are religious ~ of lax observance; but simply because of~ the .difference between "a family of slen-der means" in the developed world and the corresponding family in the underdeveloped world. ~ Consider, too, the fact, or at least the possibility, that the type of apos-tolate to which a Jesuit is sent has, perhaps should have, an influence on his style of life; an influence that leads, perhaps inevitably, to a difference ~Z.lbid. A III 7. ~. ~'~lbid. A II 5, A III 10. ~Const. [287]. ~SDecree on Poverty A I11 7. A More Authentic Poverty / 19,9 in standard of living. Thus~ it might be asked whether the:style of life of Jesuits teaching in the Gregorian University~ in Rome should be, or can be exactly that of Jesuits working among the marginados in Venezuela. The classical.: precedents invoked by those who favor a difference are will known. Among ~he missionaries of the Old Society in India, was there not a sign~ificant difference in style of life between those who worked among the brahmins and those who Worked-among the pariahs? And what about the drastic change in style of life adopted by Xavier in Japan, when .he learned that the Japanese paid scant attention to mendicants but might possibly give a hearing to an hidalgo? Equally-familiar are the precedents brought forward by those opposed to recognizing such differences. Ignatius' instructions to Lainez and Salmer6n, papal theologians at the Council of Tre~nt, that they should not follow th.e life style of the Council Fathers, but should work in ,hosEitals as orderlies, preach in city squares without a Stipend, and beg their meals fromo, door. to. door. The example of Ignatius, himself, when, he returned to Loyola from Paris: refusing to stay in?.the ancestral castle with his brother, he chose to dodge in the town infirmary, considering it a better platform from which to. persuade his fellow citizens to the service of faith and~ the promotion of justice. There is, then, an ambiguity--a necessary ambiguity, as ,iLseems--in the general norms proposed .by the Congregation; and the Congregation. admits it. Not only does it recognize that poverty can mean different things. to different people, but in ;recommending "the insertion of communities among the poor" as '.'a testimony of love of the poor and of poverty to which the Church encourages religious," it calls attention to the fact that "implehae.ntation of this proposal will have to be different in our widely. diff,ering circumstances.''I~ What it is saying, in effect, is that the slender-means~ norm can mea.n different things to different communities., o Thp practical conclusign that follows from this is that it is up t'o the discernment of local and provincial_ communities to ensure that, taking into account differences in socio-economic context and apostolic commit-ment, our poverty is, and is .seen to be, the poverty of Christ. It is to the same practical conclusion that the Congregation comes in the other major areas of our life and apostolate.17.The crucial role which the Congregation assigns to discernment, personal, and communitarian, in the process of translating its decrees from paper to practice,~, clearly appears in that it recognizes discernment as an, ingredient of Jesuit identity,18 _.and giyes,~ex~, t.ended treatment to it as a feature of our community life.1:' ~ This brings us to what was mentioned earlier, as the first of the~ findings ~lbid. AIlI 10. ~TGC 32, "Our Mission Today," n. 71; "The Formation of Jesuits," n. 22. lsGC 32, "Jesuits Today," n. 19. ~ ~:~GC 32, "Union of Minds and Hearts," nn. 21-24. ~ 200 / Review 1or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 of the Congregation on Jesuit poverty, namely, the need for a renewal of the spirit of our poverty as conceived by St. Ignatius. A first observation and an Obvious one is that we h~ave vowed ourselves as religious to evangelical poverty, that is, the poverty proposed by the Gos-pel as a counsel of perfection~ and adopted by Christ~ himself. Hence, a first distinction, equally obvious, must be made between our voluntary poverty and the involuntary poverty that afflicts so large a portion of the human race. This inhuman and dehumanizing poverty, frequently imposed by in-justice, is an evil. It cannot be the object of a vow. It is not the poverty we embrace, it is the poverty, we must fight. Religous poverty is evangelical, not necessarily sociological. Not necessarily; which leads to a second observation. All religious in-stitutes are followings of Christ, but each religious institute follow~ Christ in its own way, according to the charism of its founder. Of St. Ignatius it may be said that his way of following Christ is pre-eminently the way of service, of apostolic service. We belong to a Society which~"'is founded for this purpose above all . the defense and propagation of the faith" :and any kind of ministry whatgoever that shall be "for the glory of God and the common good.''~° Our poverty, then, as everything about us, is-~or is meant to be apostolic. We embrace poverty not for its own sake, as another religious institute well might, but in function of the apostolate. St. Ignatius' phrase praedicare in paupertate--to preach in poverty--must, I think, be ~understood in this sense. We are to be poor that we may all the more effectively preach. The images in which St. Ignatius embodies his notion bf poverty seem to suggest as much. For Francis of Assisi, poverty is the Lady Poverty, the lady of a troubadour, a loveliness to be loved for itself alone. For Ignatius of Loyola, on the other hand, it is "the firm wall of rrligion"; fortifications designed to defend an intra muros, an area of peace in which to build the City of God. And we must love poverty, ~ertainly; but "as a mother": a mother who gives birth to a .life, nurtures and trains it, not to keep for herself but to send forth: a life that will be something of value in the world of me'n.21 In the world of men today, that something of value is, for us Jesuits, a commitment to "the service of faith, of whii~h the promotion of justice is an absolute, requirement.''z2 Hence, if the promotion of justice should i'equire in-some place, at some time, the "insertion of communitiesamong the poor," if it should summon us "to live among the poor, serving them and sharing something of their experience," something of their "miseries and Z°Form. Inst. n. 1. 21Cf: Const. [287], [553]. Z2GC 32, "Our Mission Today," n. 2. A More Authentic Poverty / 20_1 distress,'''-''~ then we .must. by all means do so, but with a clear understand-ing that such poverty is a degradation not an enhancement of the"human condition, and that we embrace it for the sole purpose of h.elping our fellow-men to free,themselve.s from it. In a word, ev.angelical poverty is not neces-sarily sociological poverty, but may demand acceptance of it in.function.of the apostolate. This brings us to a third observation, na~mely, that if our poverty is in function of the apos_tolate, then it is what might be called a "functional?' poverty. It is, in level, form and style the poverty that best serves our apos-tolic ends. Its measure is the tantum-quantum of the Exercises.-"4 That is why the Congregation begins its declaration on poverty with a "reflection on the Gospel in the light of the signs of our times"; or so it seems to me. It seems to me that the Congregation, faced with the task passed on to it by its predecessor of answering "the demands of a real and not pretended poverty," did not begin by asking the question "What should our poverty be?" but by asking the question "What should our poverty be ]or?'''~'' From its reading of the signs of the times, the Congregation brings for-ward certain apostolic objectives which our poverty should by preference bear witness to or serve. At a time when nations, groups, and individuals ha~,e come to realize that .the material resources of this planet.are limited, and have reacted to that realization by accepting as a fact of life that the race is only to the swift and the devil takes the hindmost, vowed poverty should be, and be a witness to, sharing. "On fill sides there is felt a desire to discover new com-munities which favor a more intimate interpersonal communication, com-munities of true sharing and communion, concerned for the integral human development of their members. Our lives, our communities, our very poverty can and should .have a meaning for such a world.'''-''~ That meaning and message will be effectively conveyed by "a poverty pro~foundly re~ newed . . . happy to share with each other and with ,all.'''7 In fact, "our communities will have no meaning or sign value for our tim.es, unless by their sharing of themselves and all they possess, they are clearly seen. to.be communities of charity ,and~ of concern for each other, and all others.''-~ Secondly, at a time when human .fulfillment tends to be equated with the possession, enjoyment, and consumption of material goods, vowed poverty should point in the opposite direction. It should point to. simplicity: :.~Decree on Poverty A II 5, A III 10. :4Cf. 'Spir. Ex. [23]. '-"~Cf. Decree on Poverty A 1I 3-5, A III 7. '-'Olbid. AlI 3. "-'Zlbid. A V 14. "-'Slbid, A II 5. 202 / Review [or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 a "simpler way of 'life," ~"simple in community expression and joyous in the following of Christ," and by this witness openin~ up to men "a new liberty and another happiness.''-~'~ Finally, at a time when the struggle for justice often means a~ struggle against unjust establishments, a disengagement from the affluent and power-ful elites from which we have received, and perhaps continue to°receive beriefacti6ns, vowed i56verty must have and be-seen to have a detachment that makes it credible. "It will be difficult for the Society everywhere to forward :effectively the cause of justic~ and human dignity if the greater part of her ministry identifies her with the rich and powerffil.'''~'~ That most be the touchstone of our credibility: detachment. "The attitude of the So-ciety should b~ that of the Third Class of Men. fully as ready to abahdon as to retain, to the greater service of God,''3~ manifest' in a povei'ty that is "apostolic in its~active indifference and readiness for any service; in-spiring our selection of ministries and turning us to those most in need?':~°- In sum: the,selfless sharing of a simplicity of life that leads to integral human developm6nt and, by its realism, gives credibility to our efforts to remove the obstacles tO that development--this is what the Congregation proposes our poverty should be today, as discerned frorri the Signs of the times: ~But in qchat'~sense is this a renewal, a making,new again, a return to what the Society was when it was new? This brings us back to'a point which came up earlier: the crucial role given by'this Congregati~on to discernment. For if it 0is admitted that ours is a functional poverty, a poverty in function oLthe apostolate,~then the authentic practii:e of that~poverty will depend at any given moment on what we discern to be,the Conc?ete objectives~of our apostolate at that moment; in short, on "our mission today." And this adap-tation is truly a renewal--so, at least, it is argued because it is precisely what St. Ignatius did. ~ ~. What Ignatius did was to giv meaning and structure to" the practice of' voweff poverty which was in function of what he discerned: to be the apos-tolic needs Of his time. He then wrote Constitutions which not-only do not forbid but demand that we practice our poverty in the light of a' similar discernment. What was his discernment? We might illustrate how concrete it was by its apparent c6ntradictions, for it is a'well-known fact that the concrete and its demands do not always meet the requirements of abstract logic. Ignatius made Jesuits in professed houses live from day to day and "-'albid. A II 3, A V 14. :~°Ibid. A II 5. 3~Ibid. AIII 9; cf. Spir. Ex. [155]. :*°-Ibid. A V 14; A More Authentic Poverty / 203, even beg from door to door; but he allowed fixed revenues for colleges, that is, the houses where Jesuits were being trained to live from day to day and beg from door to door. He would not permit the sacristies of our churches to be supported by such revenues, but-the churches themselves, Works of art which might be considered verging on the lavish,.he accepted from, or consented to be constructed by, benefactors belonging to the affluent establishments of his time. He did not favor our men going on horseback, even if they were on a mission and in somewhat of a hurry; yet he decided that professed houses should have a garden for our men to walk in. A garden! Why, certainly; a garden in cities where the ordinary citizen took the air in open sewers 'which, by an exaggeration of courtesy, were called streets. But, after all, was not Ignatius following in this matter the example of Christ himself? Christ, who regularly skipped meals because of the poor, the sick, and the bedevilled who pressed around him, but who told treed Zacheus to come down from his perch and give hil~ lunch in his house, the ~ather well provided house of an officer,of the internal revenue. Christ, who did not even have a foxhole or a bird's nest where to lay his head, but who, on his way to or from Jerusalem, regularly stopped_ at Bethany, in the house of the opulent Lazarus; who did this at lehst once with his entire entourage, seemingly unannounced, for he sent Mhrtha into a tizzy trying to figure out how may courses to lay on for dinner. Christ, who told the Seventy-two he was sending out on mission not to bring a purse or an extra pair of sandals, but who also told them that wherever they found accep-tance they should eat and drink what was put before them, because the laborer is worthy of his hire. Christ, who had a rather expensive robe, woven without seam from top to bottom, as the soldiers gambling for it immediately recognized; but who died naked on the cross. What then? Is there a fixed poverty line calculable in currency values,~ valid for all times and seasohs, to which we must keep? It ~ems not. But~ in that case how do we make, how can we be sure that we are making our poverty authentic? It would Seem that our po~verty is~authentic in the hi'eaT sure that it is really and truly in function of our apostolate--as it was in the case of Ignatius, as it was in-the case of Christ. And because it is in func-tion of the apostolate, our poverty, is, in sum, a basic insecurity: the basic insecurity of men who can.be sent and are willing to. be sent on any mission, even without provision for the jou~rney and with no assurance of provision at the end of it. Our poverty level is the minimum required to enable a Jesuit theologian to enlarge the frontiers ~of~ theology. It is also the maximum allowable "~for a Jesuit engaged in~ the "lSedagogy of the oppressed" to.be credible to. the oppressed. And it is a willingness on the part of the theologian to be sent to the oppressed, and a corresponding willingness ~n the part Of the peda-gogue of the oppressed to join a theological faculty. ,Let u,s, g~ve the last w~rd 204 / Review for Religious, l/olume 35, 1976/2 to the 32nd,General Congregation: "The authenticity of our poverty, after all, does not consist so much in the lack of temporal goods, as in the fact that we live and are seen to live from God and for God, sincerely striving for the perfection of that ideal which is the goal of the spiritual journey of the Exercises: 'Give me only a love of you with your grace and I am ~rich enough, nor do I ask anything more.' ":"~ a31bid. AV 14; Spir. Ex. [23~,].' * * Saint Louis University Accent '76 Summer offerings of The Department of Theological Studies, Saint Louis University June 22 - July 30 Accent: Spirituality Continuing SLU's tradition of summer institutes in Spiritu~ality, . Institutes: The~ New Testament and Traditions of Spirituality; Assimilating the LitUrgical Reform: Pastoral Ministry in Th, eological Focus Inaugural Institute: June 7 - June 17 Toward An American Spirituality (Herbert W. Richardson) Accent: °Religious Studies Continuing SLU's on-g0ing M.A. Program in Religious Studies. 12 Courses: Contemporary Doctrihe, Biblical Studies, 'Theology of Religious Life. Accent: Religion arid American Culture Continuing SLU's tradition of exploring the relationship between religion and culture. Workshops: Alternate Futures For Religious Education In The United States; New Interpretations of American Catholicism. Plus: Study Tour To lsrael All institutes and workshops can be separated into two-week segments. For complete information write: Department of Theological Studies Attn: Director of Summer Programs Saint Louis University 3634 Lindell Blvd; ' Saint Louis, Missouri 63108 Our Servant Song to Yahweh: The Radical Yes Sister Mary Catherine Barron, C.S.J. Sister Mary Catherine is an English teacher at Rome Catholic High School. She had p~blished earlier, in the November, 1975 issue. Sister resides at 808 Cypre.ss St.; Rome; NY 13440. In a poem of soul-shattering dimension, D. H. Lawrence, a very ~sensual man, poses a series of very spiritual questions.,He asks: Are you willing to be sponged out, erased, cancelled, ~ made nothing? Are you willing to be made nothing? dipped into oblivion? If not, you will never really change.1 His interrogation embodies the central Christological inquiry asked long before Jesus answered with His life. For throughout the centuries of salva-tion history it has been the haunting refrain of all who embrace the reality of the Servant Song. No matter where we turn in the Old Testament or the New, we find ourselves faced with its harsh delineations. ,Abraham must go through the annihilation Of family ties and holdings in order to found a nation from the child he nearly slays. Moses suffers privation, loneliness, and betrayal as he leads Yahweh's people to a land he never enters. David bears for-ever the searing knowledge of his sin as he witnesses its effects' upon his household and his kingdom. Hosea suffers the painfilled prostitution of his love; Jeremiah preaches renewal amid interior desolation; Isaiah witnesses 1D. H. Lawrence, "The Phoenix," The Complete Poems o[ D. H. Lawrence (New York: Viking Press. 1964). 205 206 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 to the emptiness of the Servant Who is to come. John the Baptist loses his disciples; Mary loses her Son; Jesus loses His life. What do we lose? In a past issue of Bible Today, Father Stuhlmueller reflects on the two-fold aspec't of vocation. He says: "Every vocation has an occasion, that which gets it started. Every vocation has a long search for the deeper mean-ing of what one started out to do.'' Somewhere between the ~'starting oc-casion" and the "deeper meaning" resides a radical "yes" on the part of the servant to what is so graphically outlined in the "Phoenix" poem. How do we say it--that radical "yes"? How did Jesus utter it? Through a total rendering of Himself, in faith, to His Father. He tells us: "Whatever the Father does the Son does too" (Jn 5:19). The Father's "radical yes" to His creation is manifested through the gift of His Son. The Son's "radi-cal yes" to His Father is manifested through the gift of Himself. There was nothing glorious about the human life of Christ. He paid dearly for every sign of spiritual power shown. He labored long and hard for infinitesimally small results. He traversed the length and breadth of His country only to learn that a prophet is never accepted by His own. He was condemned by leaders of the religion He fulfilled. And He