Suchergebnisse

Issue 28.4 of the Review for Religious, 1969. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gailen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to R~EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63~o3. Questions for answering s.hould be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Db.'inity of Saitxt Louis University, the editorial ottices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright ~) 1969by REvIr:W. voR REt.mlOt:S at 428 East Preston Street; Bahimore, Mary-land 2t202. Printed in U,S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland and at additional mailing offices, Single copies: $1,00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two .years; othei countries: $5.50 a year, $10.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble 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. Renewals and new subscriptions, where ac¢om. panied by a remittance, should be sent to REVIEW VOR RELIGIOUS; P. O. Box 671; Baltimore, Maryland 21203. Changes of address, business correspondence, and orders not accompanied by a remittance should be sent:to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ; 421:1 East Preston Street; Baltimore, MarTland 2120'2. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOL'S; 612 Humbold t Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis "Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. JULY 1969 VOLUME 28 NUMBER 4 SISTER ELAINE MARIE PREVALLET, S.L. Reflections .on . Pr a and Religious Renewal It is fairly commonplace today that in all the talk of religious renewal the most neglected area is that of prayer. One might hazard the guess that this area is one of the most basic and most in need of rethinking and genuine renewal; one might also hazard the guess that people do not talk in depth about it because they do not know what to say. Like other areas of.renewal, there is question of what can be changed and what must remain. iEqually, there is growing realization that it will not be su~ient, to change the horarium and the outward form ur:less there is also renewal of the inner dynamic of /, prayer. To change structure may indeed be the likeliest ',,.¢-,way to achieve the change in process and attitude. If that is so, as the structure begins to change, new develop-ments in our understanding of prayer may arise from the life and experiences of renewal-minded religious com-munities during the next decade. What will be needed, however, is much sharing of and reflection upon the experience of religious, and sensitivity to new insights into the character of their prayer. We shall attempt here only to indicate some general areas of difficulty or de-velopment which characterize our present situation; Two observations may be in order at the outset. First, the difficulty with the concept of prayer is no doubt due to the pace and noise of modern society; but it is, I believe, more largely due to the crisis of faith which characterizes our age. When the basic notion of God is under so much scrutiny, and when one finds so much un-certainty as to the meaning and validity of believing in God at all, then obviously the concept of pra~e.r cannot remain untouched. For the nature and meaning of prayer will be determined by the character or concept of the one to whom one prays. Even though our under-standing of God must be constantly changing and growing, yet it must be in some fundamental way secure 4- Sister Elaine Ma-rie, S.L. is the chairman ol the de-partment of theol-og~ at Loretto Heights College; 3001 South Fed-eral; Denver, Colo-rado. 802S6:!2, ~ VOLUME :28, 1969. ÷ ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 532 in faith. If we are not sure of God or it we do not know what our relationship to Him is, we cannot, be sure ot praye~---whether we should pray or how much we should pray. Hence, the difficulties in prhyer are closely tied to difficulties in faith.1 Secondl), it seems to me an unnecessary obfuscation of the issue to speak ot work as prayer. Prayer must, ot course, have an intimate connection with life and must therefore be related to work; but it aids neither our understanding nor our prayer to say that work is prayer. Prayer, as I shall refer to it, contains an essential com-ponent ot consciousness, reflection; it includes what has traditionally been named meditation. It may indeed occur that one prays--reflects upon meanings and values in the light ot the gospel message or one's understand-ing ot God--while one works. But to equate the two seems to me to be playing with words, the result being the loss ot the meaning ot prayer. Reflection takes time, effort, concentration. We are not a patient society, not used to being quiet; we are used to looking tot quick pragmatic results. Prayer demands patience and quiet; and it will often produce no immediate, demonstrable result. Hence, the tendency is to want to leave prayer aside, and one way ot doing this is simply to make facile verbal equation between work and prayer. The;~is~ sue is then quickly settled. When we are lett to our own in the matter that is, it we have provided no set time or place or fre-y.~] quency-~our experience will probably be that prayer will, sooner or later, simply drop out ot the picture. It will be pushed out by more immediate demands, more concrete "work to do." Yet it seems essential that the lives ot religious have a dimension ot depth and that religious themselves have what might be called a con-sciousness ot ultimacy. They must have a certain steady perspective, a clear focus. They must have this, not just for themselves, but [or others, as part of their service. Yet, in the immediacies that make up daily living, perspective and focus are easily lost; depth quickly turns shallow and empty. It seems necessary, then, to provide for oneself time and quiet to ponder meanings and values in the light ot the gospel message or in the light o[ one's understanding ot God. It is necessary to deepen one's understanding o[ faith, to reflect on the meaning ot God's loving presence. Finding God in prayer is a necessary concomitant to recognizing His presence in XA good treatment of this situation is given by Douglas Rhymes, Prayer in the Secular City (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1967), espe-cially pp. 12-25. all things. Obviously, this is saying nothir~g new. It is simply reasserting the value of balancing action with contemplation.2 Let us now consider some perspectives which may prove valuable to the development of prayer at the present time. Christianity and Personalism From all sides we become aware that we are living in an age of "the person," an age which has a new realiza-tion of the value, the uniqueness, the importance of the human person. In this context, Christianity shows itself as eminently propounding the value of the human per-son: the Christian revelation of God as Trinity is, after all, a revelation of God as personal, as communicating Persons. The Incarnation speaks of the personal love of God for man and His desire to be in communion with man; the Resurrection of Christ speaks of the continuing possibility for man to be in personal communion with God through the humanity of Christ. These three central dogmas of the Christian mystery indicate that man's re-lationship with God is a deeply personal one, allowing whatever is deepest and most unique in each man to find its expression and its fulfillment in his relationsh.ip with the Divine Persons. If we seek to understand prayer, therefore, we may well begin with simply this affirmation of man as person and God as Persons. We may move from that to a second affirmation, equally involving the dimensions of person, and speak of presence. For the possibility of being per-sonally present to another is one of the highest preroga: tives of man. Here again the Trinity speaks of personal presence as belonging to God Himself; the Incarnation speaks of the presence of God to man in Christ, and the Resurrection speaks of the continuing presence of the risen Christ to His followers. If we wish a basis for personal prayer, we need no other starting point than these fundamental Christian affirmations. We can under-stand personal prayer as involving the presence of the Three Persons who are God, and, most especially, the presence of the risen Christ. To be conscious of this presence requires faith, but also deliberate effort--time and concentration--to reflect upon the faith-datum and its significance. ~ We do not wish to assert priorities here; it is not a case of either/or, but of both/and. Equally, we do not wish to deny that when faith is deeply lived, there need be no disjunction, between work and prayer. But given our human situation, it seems safe to say, minimally, that thought is necessary for finding and maintain-ing meaning and perspective. -:;- ", -- 4- ÷ ÷ Prayer and Renewal VOLUME 28, 1969 Sister Elain~ Mari~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Individual Prayer We can move from here to ask what characterizes the relationship between the risen Christ and the believer, and therefore what the qualities of prayer will be.~ We can treat these briefly under the headings of love, need, and thanksgiving. If we examine any love relationship, we will find that it always involves a personal petition to be accepted and loved by the other. Hence love always involves prayer to the other--a petition, implicit or explicit, for under-standing, for acceptance--simply for communion. In the last analysis, what any such prayer seeks is com-munion of heart and mind, reconciliation of under-standing and wills. Expressed simp!y, we want to be one with the person to whom we are praying:' we want him to understand our prayer, and we want to understand him as he receives our prayer. It is here that meditation on the life of Christ in the Gospels finds its importance. For the risen Christ now is the same Christ who lived the inciden~ ts portrayed in the Gospels; He is now, as it were, the result of the experiences which He assimilated dur-ing His earthly life. The mysteries of His life on earth live on in Him, and they must be entered into by any-one wishing to know Him as He is now. To use an analogy: I am as I am now because of what has hap-pened to me in the past. Anyone who wants to under-stand me deeply ~nust understand certain of the signifi-cant experiences that have formed me, have given my life direction. And in the measure that another under-stands in a deep and compassionate way my past, in the measure that another has been able to enter into my past, to experience it with me, the other will under- Stand me. So in our attempt to come to union of heart and mind with Christ: insofar as we penetrate the experience de-picted in the gospel, we come to understand the living Christ who is now as He is because of those experiences. If we want to know the Christ whom we are petitioning, then we will need to know Him through the Gospels.* Further, in any love relationship, the one whom we love finally determines both the character and the con-tent of a prayer; in some sense then, the one addressed in prayer has a major role in creating the prayer. We * Much of the following is drawn from M. Nddoncelle's analysis in God's Encounter with Man (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1964). * For a more detailed and carefully nuanced presentation of the place of contemplation of the Gospels in Christian life, see David Stanley, "Contemplation of the Gospels, Ignatius Loyola, and the Contemporary Christian," Theological Studies, v. 29 (1968), pp. 417--45. will ask for what the one petitioned can give, and we will ask it in a way we know to be acceptable to him. Reflection upon this will perhaps give a direction for thinking about the questions so often posed these days: why should I pray? for what should I pray? If one re-flects that the one receiving the petition is God, loving and personal, then one might conclude that one could ask God for anything, for nothing is impossible to Him. However, if one considers more deeply the person of Christ, and, knowing Christ, knows also His deepest concerns, then one would be led to pray not for trivia but to seek in prayer a communion in His concerns. The Christ of the Gospels has as His deep concern the genuine well-being of men, their relationships, their dignity, their fulfillment. Our prayer, then, if it really considers the one petitioned and seeks communion with Him, will result in a sharing in His concern for men, communion in His outlook with respect to the needs of men, communion of understanding of the Christian task. Thus, if we have sought genuine com-munion with Christ, our prayer will impel us outward-- to meet the needs o£ the neighbor. This means also that we need not leave behind or abstract from our own daily living and working in prayer, but rather that we try to come to see how Christ's concern, His outlook, His understanding, can be translated by us into our con-crete situations. From the other side, the one petitioned would want to understand us as we approach him in prayer--why we pray, what its content means, and to respond in the way that will fulfill the deepest need of the one praying. Love does not refuse the petition of love, yet must be at liberty to answer as love knows best. Hence prayer can never be an effort at manipulation; it can never seek to use the other as the instrument of its own advance. Love approaches the autonomy of the other, approaches him freely and leaves the other free in response. Again, then, love is seeking nothing so much as communion; it is entering into the myster~ of the other, it is allowing two freedoms to meet, it is allowing its own develop-ment to be charted by the free response of the other. Prayer will accordingly always contain an element of surrender. But we can approach prayer also from the angle of existential human need. To seek communion with an-other is really to seek to fulfill a deep human need--the need to come to terms with human existence as incom-plete, to free oneself from self-sufficiency. To recognize one's own need, to approach another in need is, con-trary to our tendency to sufficiency, deeply human and + Prayer and Renewa! VOLUME 28, 1969 Sister Elaine Marie REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 536 deeply fulfilling. To pray to another is to offer oneself as apprentice, to be willing to learn, to admit that we do not know or cannot do, that we are not in complete mastery of the course of our destiny, that we do not always perceive the meaning of events. Being ready to admit our insufficiency and approaching Christ to try to see things as He sees them, to seek thus a reconciliation of our mind and heart with His is already fulfilling an existential demand: that we, humanly, are limited, are needy, that we find fulfillment only in communion. To pray, then, belongs to the truth of human nature; it is an impulse that genuinely expresses and fulfills a deep need of human existence. The attitudes of love and of need come together in the basically Christian prayer of thanksgiving. For we turn to Christ as the effective sign that we are loved by God, that His love has touched our humanity and opened it. In relationship with Him we recognize that our human need is not a burden but a joy, the joy of being creatures, the joy of being redeemed and accepted as sons of a loving Father. In Christ, then, we need not make a pre-terise of sufficiency but can freely and lovingly admit our need and turn to him for acceptance, for a perspective which is fuller than our own and can complete and cor-rect it. Because we are creatures in need, yet because He lives to be in loving communion with us, our prayer of need is already thanksgiving. For our deepest existential need is to be accepted and loved as we are and thus brought to transcend ourselves. Communion with God in Christ can do this in a way that no human communion can. It is Christ who most fully recognizes and accepts the human condition as creaturely, as unredeemed, and who exists only to meet us "where we are," and to bring us beyond ourselves to the Father. When we turn to Christ in prayer, it is then already thanksgiving that He is there, that He knows us and loves us as .we are, that we can be in communion with Him. Community Prayer What distinguishes community prayer from individual personal prayer is, obviously, the presence of the com-munity. But this factor can provide us with some ma-terial for reflection. We may start with the premise that each individual has been touched and loved by God; each is uniquely related to God in Christ. Further, each individual has his own gift for the building up of the Body of Christ. For a community to be a community in any profound Christian sense, there must be among the members a sensitivity to the part played by each, an ap-preciation of the unique gift which, each possesses, a willingness to help each other be what he or she is in- tended to be. There must be a sense of belonging to each other, of being for each other, of affecting each other by what each says and does and is. There must be, then, some sense of communion. It is perhaps precisely the phenomenon of the com-munity that has been neglected in our previous methods of community prayer. If we take seriously the presence of Christ in each other, then .we have to admit that each member of the community may be a "word" of Christ to us. Community prayer might well include some oppor-tunity to listen to the word of Christ from within the community. This would presuppose that the members approach community prayer with the mentality of being "present" to each other, as well as to God; it would mean that we make some effort to be conscious and aware of the others with us at prayer, instead of regard-ing them as a source of distraction. The community at prayer adds a new dimension--the presence of Christ in each other--to our way of approaching Him in prayer. One might, in this context, suggest that some of the prayer we address to Christ ought, in fact, to be a prayer to the community. A prayer of loneliness, of weariness, of discouragement, might more practically be met by Christ in the community than by Christ addressed ver-tically. This implies, of course, great openness among the members of the community, sensitivity and receptivity to human needs. The basis for such prayer can be seen in this passage from Origen: Take the case of a man who is of the number of those who have acquired more than sufficient of the needs of life and charitably hears the request of a poor man who petitions God for his wants. It is clear that this man too will accede to the petition of the poor man. For he obeys the will of the Fa-ther who brings together .at the time of prayer the one who prays and the other who can grant the prayer and cannot, because of God's kindly provision, ignore the needs of the former. We must not, therefore, think that when these things hap-pen they happen by chance. For He who has numbered all the hairs on the head of the saints brings together in harmony at the time of prayer both him who can do a service, giving ear to him who is in need of His benevolence, and the one who devoutly prays? God answers men's prayer by bringing the community together so that men may, in Christ, meet the needs presented there. One may, evidently, speak one's need-- or in other words, pray--to Christ through the commu-nity, and it is in this way that He answers one's prayer. To do this in the explicit context of Christian prayer ÷ ÷ ÷ Prayer and Renewal sOrigen, Prayer, xi, 4-5; translated in Origen: Prayer, Exhorta- VOLUME tion to Martyrdom, trans. John J. O'Meara (Westminster: Newman, 1954), pp. 45-6. 537 REVIEW FOR RELI@IOUS 5S8 seems to provide a genuine opportunity of deepening one's faith in the presence of Christ in the community, as well as drawing attention to our responsibility to meet the needs of others--an end toward which prayer to Christ must always lead us. Further, it is our human experience of what it means to be related as persons that is always our prime analo-gate for understanding our relationship with God in Christ. Community prayer may provide us with deep experiences of what it means to be persons in commu-nity, and therefore might greatly aid our understanding of what we mean when we speak of God as Persons, or of the Trinity, Community prayer will be improved, it seems, if we consider it not only as individuals gathering to recite together the same prayer, but as individuals gathering, sensiti~ce to and aware of each other, to say who they are together: that they have common desires, common needs, a common faith. They can profess at once their faith in God and in each other, their trust in God and in each other. They may gather to say to God and to each other that they are sinful, that they need forgiveness from God and from each other. They may listen and respond together to Scripture or to other readings that would bring them together in communion with Christ in heart and mind, and in communion of conviction and purpose with respect to their task in the world. We do not wish to deny the value of structured com-munal forms of prayer such as the Divine Office. These can provide a welcome balance for the more personal, subjective form suggested above. We wish only to sug-gest that on occasion some way of acknowledging and being aware of the presence of each other in prayer may be an important factor in preventing community prayer from becoming formalized, and may be a way of keeping ~t relevant to the life and needs of the community. It becomes, then, a means of growth in faith and in love both for God and for each other, and thus a means of really creating genuine Christian community. If individ-ual prayer seeks communion of heart and mind with Christ or the persons of the Trinity, then community prayer must have as an added aim a communion of heart and mind with the community. It seems obvious that this is somewhat difficult if nothing is done to make one aware of the presence and needs of the community members. Community prayer must aim at making a conscious community in Christ--by sharing in ioy and sorrow, need and suffering with each other, in the presence of Christ. A community becomes a community precisely by acknowledging needs and praying to and for each other. A community, then, comes together to pray, but it is also formed into a genuine and meaningful commu-nity through its sharing in prayer. From a different angle, reflection upon our experience of the community indicates that all members of a reli-gious community do not have the same gift of prayer. Given the premise that each individual has his own gift for the building up of the Body of Christ, it seems evi-dent that some individuals are, by temperament and by gift, more disposed to prayer-.and reflection than others. Perhaps this is an area where the fruits of one's gift for the Body must be seen in a communal context: that if' we have in our community someone with a gift for prayer, we all share in the benefits of his or her reflec-tion, his prayerfulness. This in no way dispenses the other members not so gifted from any effort in this direc-tion. Each person must be concerned about acquiring the dimension of depth in his faith life, must be con-cerned about communion of heart and mind with Christ. Yet if it is our experience that even in religious commu-nities all do not have the same gift, we may profit from trying to understand that experience. All must be sensitive to this gift in their midst, ap-preciate it, and encourage its development. Equally, all can benefit from those who do have a special gift of prayer. But this implies that the one so gifted must be openhearted enough to share his insights and reflections, for this is part of the responsibility connected with the gift of prayer as contributing to the building up of the Body of Christ. Doubtless we need to reflect more deeply upon the matter of responsibility to and for the gift of prayer. No prayer is purely individual. All prayer be-longs to and is at the service of Christian community. Sacramental Prayer Sacramental prayer may now be ,seen as incorporating and epitomizing all the elements present in other forms of prayer. Christ is present to each individual who par-ticipates in sacramental action; each is uniqt~ely re-lated to Him. The community is also present--present there to each other and to God. Christ is present in the community. But He is also present, acting through the symbols used in sacramental action. Here, once again, we need to be conscious not only of ou.r vertical relationship to Him, but also of the other members of the community, aware of them and present to them. We need, further, to be conscious of how Christ is present in sacramental signs: we need to have reflected deeply upon the natural meanings involved in each of the sacramental signs, but also upon their specific Christian meaning, shared and understood by the com-munity. For Christ will act toward us according to the meaning of these signs. Each sign says something to us ÷ Prayer and Renewal~ VOLUME~281 1969, ".~ + ÷ ÷ Sister Eioine Marie REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 540 as individuals loved and touched by God, but also to us as a community. Sacraments are occasions when we gather as a community to celebrate, in specific, signify-ing ways, God's loving us and His acting through Christ in our midst. Ideally, then, sacramental action should include some opportunity for explicit awareness of the community. How this may be done with greatest effectiveness may vary. A communal celebration of penance might include, individual "prayer" to the community, or the commu-nity's praying together to acknowledge its communal blindness, inertia, and negligence, its need for forgive-ness, for Christ's redeeming love. It might include some action or gesture to signify forgiveness of one another as mediating, along with the sacramental sign, the forgive-ness of Christ. The Eucharistic prayer is more easily recognized as communal, since our eating of the one bread and drink-ing of the one chalice say that we already share, in Christ, a communion of life with Him and with each other. The signs of food, and Christ's presence to us through these signs, as well as the presence of the com-munity there, both say that we are creatures who need the sustenance and nourishment of faith and hope and love; we need this nourishment from Christ, but also from one another. This is eminently the sacrament of thanksgiving, as we return to God, in and with Ghrist, all that we have and are. The Eucharist is in a very real sense the highest point of our prayer, both individual and communal; it is the culminating point of our presence to and communion with Christ and the Chris-tian community. It should be an occasion of real cele-bration of our community in Christ. More thought will need to be given to the matter of celebrating, and how our awareness of each other, of our community, can be given recognition in Eucharistic celebration. Conclusion This is obviously only a sketch of some lines along which we might watch for development in the prayer life of religious communities. There is urgent need that religious be convinced of the value of prayer and de-termined to realize its value and meaning in forms suit-able for our times and within the thought patterns of our age. We have undertaken the task of wholesale re-newal of religious life, including its most mysterious dimension, that of prayer. If we fail in this task, some-thing deep and nourishing for our lives and the life of the Church will simply die. Only if we succeed will we find strength, vitality, and meaning to enable us to make our contribution to the Body of Christ in the twentieth century. It is worth our best efforts. EDITED BY THOMAS F. O'MEARA, O.P. Community and Commitment COMMUNITY There* is a new burst of awareness and[desire for com-munity both within and without the Church. The need for community lies deep in the heart of ~tlan. Religious and apostolic life cannot find its source} realization, or sign value simply in the fact that a gr~oup of men or women dress alike and perform certain ritual actions together Human relations are too profound, too deep 1y explore~, too important for this-superfiCial bond. Why do religious live in community? In some way it must be to enable and to enrich a human, Christian, apostolic, and celibate life. Each of these aspects calls for commu-nity and must find it or be frustrated. For-the present generation, isolated and made anxious by advancing technology, community is essential. A! new view of religious life must emphasize its importan.ce and its roots in the New Testament. Community exists to help the person develop as a person, to help the Christian develop !as a Christian. Community must be an adult familial ~ommunity, for this is basic to man. If a man does not create one through marriage, he must find another form, for man cannot live totally alone ~nd live healthily. R~.ligious commu-nity life, like the Christian individual, i~ a place where nature and grace meet. The charisms of the Spirit, the times, the heritage of the order, the psychological needs of persons are an array of aspects highl:ighting the im-portance of community. Community supports the indi-vidual in his apostolate; it gives hir~ direction and encouragement. But community is not jffst the backdrop * This article is excerpted from a paper feceS,' tly prepared by a group of midwestern Dominicans. The title ofI the ful.1 paper is "Towards a Theology of the Dominican Life in the United States Today." The article presented here has been edited b~ Thdmas F. O'Meara, O.P. I + 4- 4, Father Thomas O'Meara, O.P., is a member of Aquinas Institute School of Theology; St. Rose l~riory; Dubuqqe, Iowa 52001¢ " - . ; VOLUME 28;.1959: ¢'.,' 541 T. F. O'Meara, O.P. REVIEW I~OR RE~L[GIOUS ~2 for activity; it is essential to effective Christian life and apostolate. Apostolate and community are correlatives. Neither can be defined without the other. We are in-volved in a communal apostolate and an apostolic com-munity. We do not yet know how the rather recent re-discovery of the importance of community will effect a more profound level of community life; but we do know that for the United States and the American life style this rediscovery is extremely important, perhaps more important (and more advanced) when compared to the life style of Europeans. The previous form of routine, joint prayer (which is not the same as communal prayer), tolerant charity, frustrating or limiting obedience was insufficient. It often led to seeking a "family" outside of the priory rather than bringing friends into our family. The jurid-ical description of community is insufficient, since community is primarily a human and Christian, a psy-chological and socio-theological reality. Law can neither form nor direct true community; it can only give a very few boundaries beyond which community could not exist. From these legal lines to real community is a long road, but it is a road which the Christians could begin to traverse if they would emphasize grace, not law. If the Church is a microcosm of the world, the reli-gious community is a microcosm of the society in which it lives. The religious community should be a kind or type of Christian community, a model for it. By its very existence in communal sharing and dedication to preaching the gospel, the religious community shows it is not the world. But the religious community is in the world. It shares in human communities--in their life and in their structures. By baptism and vows we look to a special fulfillment beyond the merely social community of family and city. This is possible, however, only by listening closely to the insights of the gospel, to the Church, and to the contributions of the secular sciences. Psychology can be seen as a kind of praeparatio evan-gelica for healthy community life, for charity, maturity, honesty, joy, and dedication. We must learn what is the correct size for a community of men or of women, as determined by social and psychological studies; how a community can best be directed; what is the importance of work; whether one community needs a single apostolic goal or whether these can be pluralistic. Neither theology nor canon law have all the information on this; social psychology and management planning must help. We will see below that the community is the source of authority. The superior exemplifies the spirit of the community. He inspires and coordinates the ac-tivities of the community flowing from their life and work. He is not, primarily, a secretary, a bookkeeper, or a control center for daily life. The community should be open because Christian Iove is open; the community is mature and the superior a guide rather than a controller because this reflects the Christian (not the Jewish) idea of God. No closed community is happy. Jesus Christ was not closed in upon himself. Christian community-apostles must not be just intellectually open, but emotionally and psychologically open to change, to newness, to risk. To be such, the religious community must be physically open to the com-munities it borders. Religious communities cannot be fortresses, for these are anachronistic. Rather they must be dynamic centers of the Christian prophetic word en-gaging in conversation and cooperation with the world. Privacy and silence have a purpose, but they are not absolutes; they are ordained to dialogue and mission, and so cannot object to a reasonable openness of a com-munity to those for whom we exist. Just as vatican II showed that the world was vastly complex and different, and emphasized the local church as the New Testament does, so too a new view of reli-gious life will emphasize the local community. This is where religious life will be lived or will die out. The novitiate and a few houses of so-called strict observance cannot be the norm, especially in the United States where such a "norm" would be viewed as hypocritical. The local community will either attract novices to its kind of life or none will come, since young Americans are now attracted to concrete persons and what they are doing, not to ancient saints or romantic descriptions. The local community is all-important, and the province is seen as the coordinating center of creative and respon-sible local communities. VOWS IN C01V[MUNITY The Vows as Commitment to Christian Community and Ecclesial Apostolate The vows are directed towards community member-ship and activity. Since they are acts of persons, they have personal implications such as lasting celibacy, per-sonal mortification and denial, communal sharing, and so forth. But the community dimension can no longer be eclipsed by the personal; it is the community way of life which asks for celibacy; it is a particular level of apostolic efficiency and potential which requests poverty; and obedience is basically not the submission to one man's direction in the details of li[e, but the entrance into a community with its own necessary leadership. Vows are a lasting commitment to service through corn- Community and Commitra~nt VOLUME 28, 1969 munity for the kingdom of God. Obedience is commit-ment to community; poverty exists for service, peace, and equality; chastity is essential to this kind of dedication. Because of the importance of the New Testament record and an individual's commitment, we must have a Biblical theology of commitment-in-vows. We 'must have not only a Biblical theology of the vows, but a sociology and psychology of them as well. The vows are not re-straints but liberating influences. Are the vows the same as every and any commitment to a religious community? Do they have positive sign value today, as the Council de-mands they should? Does their nomenclature get in the way? Perhaps it is possible to see different levels of active commitment following evangelical counsels: these levels would be introductory (novitiate), temporary and termi-nal (auxiliaries), permanent but open to dispensation, and final. We must be wary of stating a theology of vows in terms of any dualism or any triumphalism. We cannot take for granted our identification of virginity with virtue, poverty with righteousness, or the religious life with a higher state. The vows, like the religious life, cannot be absolutes since they are means. How can Americans rediscover, emphasize, and expli-cate the goals towards which the vows tend. If these goals die out or escape achievement, the vows no longer have any real purpose. The keeping of a vow without any purpose or success is not in keeping with Jesus' reli-gious thought. Vows are means to love, to zeal, to open-ness, to adaptation, to maturity, to Christian apostolic success, to service. Vows do not permit us to have no concern for the future of ourselves or our society, to have no interest in others, to withdraw, to escape decisions and responsibilites, persecution and defamation, to es-cape the necessity of worrying about life and livelihood, to ignore the effectiveness of our community and the Roman Catholic Church. The purpose of the vows is to communicate Christ through a personal and communal life in God. 4. 4. 4. T. F. O'Meara, O.P. REV|EW~ FOR RELIGIOUS 544 Chastity A theology of religious chastity avoids every dualism. It never loses sight of the goodness of human emotions and sexuality, the permanent role sexuality plays in a balanced personality. Chastity is not a means of not-getting- involved in the world, of "avoiding near occa-sions of sin." Chastity is not a way of playing safe, nor are sins against chastity the most horrendous of the religious life, adding "malice" to sexual disorder. A re-ligious~ chastity can be a .selfishness of great proportions. Chastity must search seriously for its justification, and each must ask whether he justifies his living of a life which is not creative of human family; he asks this question not just once at perpetual vows but throughout his life. It is not at all clear that Americans today are more involved in sexual immorality than in the past, although they are certainly barraged with the glorification of sexuality. Still, the seriousness of not sharing one's life with another human being, the potential ambiguity of sexual abstinence, and the gift of creating a family should not be set aside easily. Does celibate chastity as a commitment to a community of Christian service have the theology and sign value for today it deserves? How do religious love in a human way? How is sexuality present in a love for the community and the world? Psychology must help to determine the dynamics and limitations of chastity in each individual, and the particular conditions which this or that province or house must take into ac-count. Chastity allows for a certain level of Christian dedica-tion to the apostolate and sanctity. It is academic to ask whether this is better or best, since only the individ-ual with his God-given vocation has a "place" in the sight of God. Chastity allows (it does not insure or cause) dedication: (a) to many persons rather than a few; (b) to areas of work which are dangerous or demanding in an exceptional way; (c) to an intensity of work in quality and quantity. Chastity is connected with the revolution-ary, missionary, and suffering nature of the Christian apostolate insofar as the celibate preacher of the gospel can go where a family cannot. Ghastity and poverty allow a certain economic and social independence, a freedom from political or economic systems which may be perversely harming human life and development. Poverty Poverty is not simply the absence of normal or special consumer goods. Amid growing American affluence, poverty is an evil, and the American mentality is intent upon its elimination. Christian "poverty" can have value in America as a sign of Christian eschatology and as an identification with the downtrodden and persecuted. In the present social and political upheavals within the United States, it has become clear that some religious who "practiced" poverty (sometimes in ludicrous detail) at the same time possessed a mentality which was un-sympathetic to the poor. Poverty must be seen, then, as a sign of the worldly and transcendent kingdom of God, of the "already" and "not yet" of the Christian mission. There are three aspects of poverty within the religious life, aspects which must be constantly tested as to whether they have a contemporary voice and to whether ÷ ÷ ~ommunity and Commitment VOLUME 2~ 1969 T. F. O~Meara, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELlflIOUS they are kept in the right balance. (1) Poverty of the individual and community must be proportionate to the particular apostolate and community. Poverty must smooth the road to effective apostolate and Christian Service. We must not let privileges, traditions, "contacts" little by little lead us away from service to the poor and persecuted. (2) Poverty has sign value: it frees us for work for the kingdom of God which is coming; it pro-claims our faith in divine providence and in the power of Christ to become the center of the evolving world. Our faith in Christ above and within the world is active now and in the future. (3) Poverty frees us for work among persons and proclaims the primacy of the personal, Christian, spiritual over the material. Wealth is power; but poverty affarms faith in another power, a power which is ultimately greater because it influences not mountains or machinery but persons and ideas. Vatican II emphasized the importance of real sign value to poverty, the importance of personal poverty and of corporate poverty. The latter demands real financial sharing on a national and international level as integral to the living of the vow of poverty. The Constitution on the .Church in the Modern World asks that we take up dialogue with the world as it is. With regard to the eco-nomic dimensions, we see that technological society has given us means of great value and importance. Wealth is good, and the assumption---dominant from the origins of man--that poverty and sickness were inevitable and frequent is now questioned by American youth, scien-tists, and polity. The correct direction of this nation's wealth and power would be a greater byproduct of our dedication to poverty than our supercilious contempt of all who possess or study wealth. In short, are we "using" our poverty for people? Poverty not only allows us to be especially dedicated to apostolates, but demands that we employ well time and energy in our areas of work. Poverty can mean em-ploying secretaries, jet travel, electronic media, and so forth in order to reach in a year (or a day) thousands more than Paul or Dominic contacted in a lifetime. On the personal level, poverty can easily be rendered mori-bund by establishing a life where all needs are filled im-mediately within a fully ordered house. Poverty means lack of security but trust in God. Poverty should prepare religious for living in the present era where the models and, concepts of the religious life are being hotly debated and seriously questioned. Poverty and faith are corre-lates; poverty and routine or unchallenged life are con-tradictions. Poverty rejects any defense of the past which turns priories, publications, apostolates, liturgies, and so forth into the displays of a museum. This is espe- cially true in the United States where we have practically no past and where our mentality is future oriented. Very practically, poverty is a commitment to commu-nity life. The American religious wants to know where and who this community is. He takes for granted his right to have some information on how the large amounts sacrificed or earned are being spent. The United States' Church has experienced many cases of poor planning, excessive construction of buildings, un-needed schools and apostolate.s, waste or diffusion of sums of money. The Christian who commits himself to poverty in a community has an obligation to see that that community itself is not sinning against poverty, and clearly superiors must answer not only to God but to the members of the community who freely offer their earnings. The spirituality and life of r~ligious in the area of poverty are not helped but rather frustrated by re-mote, corporate decisions on the expense of money. Can we not expect that a religious who sees money wasted will hesitate to remain within the community or to con-tinue his work and sacrifice? Obedience Thomas Aquinas emphasized the theological impor-tance of God's creation and agents. God acts directly in His world rarely. Similarly, obedience is not just a per-sonal relationship to God, and a superior never fully takes the place of God or Jesus Christ. Obedience is a commitment to God's kingdom revealed to us in Christ as present in a special ecclesial community. Obedience like authority involves community. Americans are raised in the Anglo-Saxon tradition of law. This tradition is often almost in contradiction to certain RoMan and European philosophies of law. The British and American legal mentality looks to a mini-mum of laws and a maximum of obedience; this is allied to equity but does not tend toward dispensation. Clearly the spirit of religious constitutions of the past and the Code of Canon Law stem from another philoso-phy. That is why the Constitution of the United States with 190 years of amendments fills only a few pages, while the laws of the community of "Christian freedom" are numerous. This national difference will influence American reaction to laws, authority, and obedience in the religious life. The purpose of authority is not to rule over the de-tails of the life of children, but to enable their matura-tion and sanctity. Adulthood, participation, and deci-sion- making can and should belong to all the members of a community in a society where political maturity is taken for granted. From the point of view of charisms, Community and Commitment VOLUME 28~ 19~9 54~ T. F. O'.~e~,~'a~ O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 548 the Spirit cannot be relegated to the mind of the supe-rior, nor will educated Christians accept the point of view that the will of the superior is always God's positive (as contrasted with His permissive) will. Education and adulthood render implausible the Neoplatonic idea that the superior informs the inferiors, because he always knows--intellectually or theologically--more than they do. Rather, the superior brings to focus the will of the community when it is holy and reasonable, or solves dilemmas presented by opposing parties. Traditions of democracy, initiative, consensus, and Aquinas' emphasis on nature with grace and secondary causes under God have been obscured by later spiritual theologies. There is a crisis in communities over whether differ-ent points of view exist, or whether bureaucratic con-trol can yield to political maturity. Today's crisis of obedience cannot be solved by more laws, stricter cen-sures, and tighter controls. This will only lead to the sin of forcing schism and apostasy. Mature Christians can-not renounce their own consciences over what seems er-roneous or insignificant. The crisis of obedience shows that a new kind of person is emerging in the Western world. He is quite different from either the Medieval peasant or the European bourgeois. His education, social responsibility, and creative initiative can either be used within the community, or he can be rejected. But he will not choose to live as a non-person, stripped of his own existence and potentiality--for neither common sense nor Christian virtue would suggest that he do so. There is a crisis in the Church today centering in the realization of authority. This is not simply "a crisis of authority." What is at issue is not that authority, even that infallible authority exists, but how it exists. This crisis is of great extent and needs a solutio~frather than a repression. The crisis is stimulated by the ever in-creasing role played by the mass media in Church affairs, by Vatican II's theology of collegiality, and by the transi-tion of the Church from a feudal or immigrant power to a vital stimulus within a pluralistic society. The crisis is particularly acute in the United States due to our lack of roots in the past history of the Church, to the American political mentality, and to the tension arising from past attempts to merge these two. The future should not be allowed to witness a growing division be-tween our standard style of administration on the one hand, and the majority of religious, especially the young, on the other. The New Testament recognizes even within its nor-mative pages a certain pluralism in Church forms. An example of this is found in St. Paul's First Letter to the Corinthians, Chapters Twelve through Fourteen. Different gifts are given to different members of the Church by the same Spirit. Every member of the Church does not have the same function, just as each part of the body does not have the same function. Though these members have different rules, a unity still exists from the members' re-lationship to Christ. There is a diversity in the Church, but it is a diversity which is unified in Christ. All of these gifts are given for the upbuilding of the Church. In this view of the Church given by St. Paul, there is definitely an emphasis on a plurality in Church forms, but a pluralism which is unified in Christ. Yet, the division, isolation, and frustration felt by many religious do exist. Where does it come from? Cen-tral authority often seems to be irrelevant. Why? Perhaps because it offers negative laws post factum rather than leadership before and during the moments of decision. This kind of authority is frustrating to those who have not been consulted and whose circumstances militate against the decision taken; it is irrelevant to many who may with risk choose to prefer real community and effec-tive apostolate to belonging to a long established group. The following three ideas are guidelines by which to measure practical decisions on renewing the concrete realization of government. (1) Charity. Charity is primary. Past constitutions have given the impression that holiness and charity come infallibly from obedience. Experience teaches that this is not true. Love for the community and the in-dividuals in it must have a certain primacy over systems, machinery, and political goals. Love is prior to obedience and is the original cause of obedience. The present crisis will not be solved without a greater emphasis on love for the individual person. (2) Freedom. It is the purpose of neither the vow of obedience nor of government to plan each individual's life and day. There should be an atmosphere freely to be lived in, not a minute horarium to be conformed to. Vatican II's Church in the Modern World begins with man, his dignity, and freedom; religious should not be afraid to follow that example. The purpose of au-thority should be to offer maxrmum help with minimum legislation. (3) Comumunity. Freedom, education, and personal maturity are some of the catalysts for today's crisis in religious community. Until we are accustomed to col-legial decisions at all levels, we will have anguish and potential death in American religious institutes. Three things are involved in the government of a community vis-a-vis the new problems: (1) the struggle for real com-munity life; (2) the necessity to be, without sacrificing heritage or unity, pluralistic; and (3) the desire for the ÷ ÷ ÷ Community and Commitment VOLUME 2BI 1969 549 T. F. O'Meera, REVIEW FOR RELIGZOUS 550 apostolate to correspond to personal needs and exigen-cies of society, and to help form community. It is clear that we do not have all the answers as to how to form this new community life on either the per-sonal or the structural basis. Clearly some things must go and others stay. But we must strive towards what is mentioned immediately above, for they are fundamen-tal to what religious life claims to be. The struggle to-wards this is itself good. Complaints about impending doom and disaster fail in Christian hope. The struggle is evangelical, since the vocation and following that Jesus preached include uncertainty. In the past we created a world where we conquered the future by avoid-ing it, by being static. We must not be afraid of uncer-tainty or risk and even danger in evaluating and living life. Political philospophy tells us that there are two ques-tions in the renewal of political structure: (1) What is your model of person? What kind of people are you deal-ing with? (2) In the light of what is best suited for these persons, who decides and governs? In considering our political structures, have we overlooked the first question? In regard to the second, decision and consul-tation should penetrate into the community as far as they can. This is a principle not only of politics but of a Christian theology of virtue. Today, we do not really have conflict within the de-velopment of representation and pluralism in govern-ment; we have a conflict as to whether pluralism and collegiality should be allowed to exist at all. This con-flict is disastrous, for new forms of realizing authority in religious community can be combated in America only at the price of a Pyrrhic victory, the decline of religious life. How are mature American religious to come to realize that representation and political discussion about the leadership and direction of the order is not evil. The Acts of the Apostles record discussion among the Apostles. For an American, not to question, noi to engage in the realm of political life is to be immature. We must not allow the leaders of men and women religious (who are not on the same theological plane as bishops) to become persons who mix the sacred with the secular like kings of divine right. Some attempt must be made to open more lines of communication, to broaden the base of author-ity, to give the greatest possible representation, to recognize the responsibility of local communities for their lives, to allow for pluralism and even dissent--all within the context of religious obedience to those in of-rice. How this is to be done without weakening authority is a challenging but far from insuperable question. To ~nany [rom other cultures, the entire view may seem bizarre or even dangerous. However, it is a legitimate possibility within ecclesial religious life, and it is the normal and traditional political mentality of Americans. Actually, obedience will grow where love has primacy; zeal will become more intense where consultation (with or without final agreement) has made it feel worthwhile. While commitment to Christian community-apostolate is destroyed by depersonalization and autocracy, it is increased through openness and honesty. Community and Commitment VOLUME 28, 1969 55! ANTHONY D. HECKER, S.J. Attitudes, Unity, and Renewal ÷ ÷ ÷ Anthony Hecker, s.J., writes fa'om Coleran House; 19 Linnaean Street in Cambridge, Massa-chusetts 02138. ' REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS In this age of renewal, both in the Church and in re-ligious orders, I would like to present for your considera-tion my reflections on those factors which could inhibit renewal. I refer to the need of greater communication between the so-called "New Breed" and the consequently so-called "Old Breed." I personally would prefer to ignore all such labels not only because of the divisions which they hint at but also because of the divisive-ness which they foster. I would like to do an in-depth study of the problems which I have observed both in my own order and in other orders with which I have come into some contact. However, because of various and sundry limitations, I must acknowledge that the following is neither a total study nor an in-depth study; rather it is simply my past and present reflections con-cerning these problems, about which 1 have a genuine concern. I present these reflections to you because I think that any attempt toward renewal will become operation-ally successful only insofar as there is unity among the members of the renewing order. At present I think that there is at least some lack of unity and that the source of that lack of unity is in our attitudes toward one another. It could easily be the case that my portrayal of these attitudinal difficulties is at least excessive, at most er-roneous. Nevertheless, by presenting these reflections to you, I hope at least to foster some reflection concerning unity and ways in which it might be improved. First, I would explain that, although I am relatively "young" and am a scholastic, I do not intend to castigate merely the "old" religious. (Indeed, I would hope that nothing that I say is construed, or misconstrued, as castigation of any person or group of persons.) The problems of communication cannot be facilely attributed to any one person or group of persons; we are all re-sponsible to a greater or lesser extent. Second, I would note that the basic problem of communication has its foundation in attitudes--attitudes toward the non-peer groups, especially those attitudes which are founded on implicit, and, hopefully, not recognized, presuppositions concerning the non-peer groups. I also want to state the several presuppositions which will be implicit throughout the rest of this discussion. First, we should not confuse unity with uniformity. For example, the excessive concern with mode of dress (ex-cessive because the concern exceeds that warranted by the subject matter) is more a question of uniformity than unity. External symbols do not foster unity; they can at best point to a unity which may or may not exist. A corollary principle, which I hesitate to state because of the apparent note of castigation contained therein, is that common life does not mean reducing everything to the lowest common denominator. I would willingly and forcefully declare that common life is necessary for unity. When, however, common life is proclaimed as a principle of uniformity, as well as of unity, then not only are the unifying aspects pushed below the horizon but also any further use of common life as a principle of action and decision is viewed by the subject with suspicion and dis-trust, rightly or wrongly. A second presupposition of this discussion is that dif-ferent attitudes or manners of acting should not be so facilely assigned a value parameter. That is, when some-one's attitudes or actions are even radically different from our own, we should not assume that they are wrong; much less should we arbitrarily impute base motives to them. For example, is it not more probable that certain priests and religious prefer not to perform "folk" or "liberal" liturgies because they think that they cannot find God so easily or so fully in such liturgies because of the "distrac-tions" inherent in such liturgies, than it is that their preferences are because they are "old fogies" or "die-hard conservatives"? Conversely, is it not more probable that certain priests and religious prefer to perform "folk" or "liberal" liturgies because they think that they can find God more easily and more fully in such liturgies because those "distractions" actually aid them in lifting themselves up to God, than it is that their preferences are because they are "always seeking new and exciting things"? A preference for uniformity would demand that one or the other view prevail. A preference for unity would allow the recognition that unity is not opposed to diversity. An all-pervasive value orientation would de-mand that one or the other view be declared good or better, and that the other be declared bad or worse. A view that would recognize the worth of a value orienta-tion but would also realize that it is not universally ÷ ÷ ÷ ~/OLLIME 2$, 19~9 A. D. Hecke~;$.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 554~ applicable would allow the recognition that several different, views can prevail simultaneously. There are many ways of approaching God, even within one (Jesuit) general framework. The primary concern of this discussion, then, is to con-sider attitudes of religious toward other religious. I would begin by stating, even categorically, that dogmatism among "liberals" is at least an implicit denial of the very essence of liberalism. A liberal, if he is a true liberal, must accept the conservative on his own--the conserva-tive's- terms; a liberalism that excludes anyone because they have a different viewpoint is, at best, a caricature of liberalism. How then, can liberals castigate conservatives because they are not liberals? Should the true liberal have, and manifest, a desire to proselytize everyone everywhere, to malte everyone liberals whether they want to be or not? To all these questions I must answer, No. Lest my answer be interpreted as a non-liberal attitude toward those "liberals," I would state that my answer is based upon my own reflections concerning what a liberal is. Accordingly, I would ask those "liberals" to help me to understand their view of liberalism and how that view is compatible with their attitudes. On the other hand, I would state, even categorically, that dogmatism among "conservatives" or "traditional-ists" is at least an implicit denial of the very essence of tradition. Dogmatism here leads to fossilization of tradi-tion. Can the true conservative deny that there is any development in our understanding of God and of our relation to Him, indeed that development is inspired by the Spirit? Can the true conservative deny that there are a variety of ways of approaching God, that God can be "all things to all men"? (Would they really limit God in this way?) If they do not allow for the continuous workings o[ the Spirit, are they not left with merely the dead letter of the past? Indeed, is not this continuous and varied working of the Spirit a presupposition of Ignatius in the Spiritual Exercises (Annotations 4, 15, 18), and is it not probable that Ignatius intended these as principles of Christian living as well as principles to be used in the Spiritual Exercises? Can the true conserv-ative demand uniformity of thought--that we all think alike--rather than unity of thought--that we agree on certain common goals and then proceed in our various ways to foster attainment of those goals? Would it be possible for the conservative, and the liberal as well, to accept the distinction between "accepting a view" and "agreeing with a view" (accepting a view as valid despite the fact that it is not a view he can personally agree with)? A second attitude that I would consider is the emo- tional generalizati.on of a response to a particular aspect of another person. This attitude appears to predominate among the younger religious, perhaps only because of my greater contact with them; it might be just as prevalent among older religious. What I mean by this attitudinal problem is that, at least occasionally, a person will ob-serve a limitation in another person (real or imagined) and then proceed to generalize--the person can do noth-ing right. The particular observation becomes generalized into an attack on the person of the person. For example, a student may discover that a particular facultymember has a character fault let us say pride. Rather rapidly the student will become convinced that that person is a poor teacher and/or advisor. I will grant that I have ob-served few religious with this problem, but unfortunately some of these few are quite vociferous. Even were their judgments true, I think it an extreme lapse of charity to commit such character assassination. Unfortunately, also, too many younger religious are not critical enough in evaluating these unsolicited reports. They might hear from a vociferous few that a teacher cannot teach and readily accept it as fact, without even experiencing the teacherl Finally on this problem, too many religious, young and old alike, engage all too frequently in destructive criti-cism. It seems, at times, to be almost a preoccupation, occasionally even descending to a type of "Can you top this?" session. Needless to say, all these manifestations of the same general attitude are destructive of unity, all the more pernicious because it results in a gradual and insidious erosion of unity, unnoticed and unreflected upon. Can we not accept the limitations of each other without bandying them all about? If we must talk about the limitations of another, let us in all charity and honesty talk about them with the person most concerned--the person with the limitation. Let us build one another up in charity rather than tearing one another down, and thus destroying the very fabric of our various orders. The third and final attitudinal area I would concern myself with is that of suspicion and distrust--not al-together unrelated to destructive criticism. What I mean by this is the tendency of too many of us to presume the worst of each other and, accordingly, to impute poor motives. This attitude is, I think, founded on at least two; more fundamental problems: lack of understanding and lack of faith in the good will of others--two problems which closely interact upon each other. Lack of understanding appears to know no boundaries. It is prevalent between younger and older religious, between subjects--regardless of age--and superiors. That ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ A. D. Hecker, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS between subjects and superiors seems to be more heavily influenced by a lack of faith; it will be treated in its proper place. Conversely, the lack of understanding between younger and older religious seems to be prior to, and causative of, the lack of faith. This lack of under-standing is, I think, intimately linked with the problem of unity. Unity is not that sort of thing which can be readily and simply assumed as existing between a group of men or women with common goals; nor can it be fostered and maintained by a total reliance upon sym-bolic acts and customs. Unity is something that has to be worked at in a real way by all the members of a group. Unity demands that all in the group understand one another; and to understand one another requires both work and patience. The urgent, and apparently natural, impulse to be understood seems to force us to give a primacy to this aspect of our interpersonal rela-tions. I wonder if this is not a false assigning of priorities. Could it not be that in order to be understood we must first understand others? Could it not be that in order to express ourselves in a manner that others can under-stand, in order to express ourselves in the thought pat-terns of the others, we must first understand the others? Of course it should also be realized that to simply understand the thoughts or expressions of others does not suffice. This is merely a token or surface understand-ing. To properly understand other persons, at least an attempt must be made to understand the social, emo-tional, psychological, and philosophical tensions and views that influenced those persons during their forma-tive years. For example, do younger religious under-stand, and realize the consequences of, the circumstances in which their elders grew up? (There is the fact that absolutism was not only prevalent in theology but that it also permeated all aspects of life and thought-- Einstein and such thinkers were not public knowledge, and thus not influential on public patterns of thought, until the forties; the social sciences were not influential until the mid-fifties; apologetics was a major concern throughout the entire course of. studies. Now when apologetics is given such an all-pervasive primacy, should it be surprising that the critical faculty 'is highly devel-oped, and that there should be a great concern to preserve and protect all aspects of the Catholic faith--incidentals as well as essentials?) On the other hand, do the older religious understand, and realize the consequences of, the circumstances in which the younger religious grew up? (There is the fact that Einstein's theory was public knowledge, and thus permeated all aspects of life and thought; the social sciences Were in full flowei', and thus the greater concern about freedom and interpersonal relations; Teilhard de Chardin was influential in shaping a new worldview-- readily taught to and accepted, perhaps uncritically, by the younger men.) I do not not mean to imply by all this that the new is better than the old, nor that the old is better than the new. Rather I am attempting to point out the fact that there are in any of the orders today two--at least two--- quite different ways of viewing the world, views that underlie and permeate all aspects of life of the various persons. I reiterate, neither is better, they are just simply different. Accordingly, to understand any thought, view, or opinion of another person, that thought, view, or opinion must be understood in the context of that per-son's way of viewing the world. Of course, there will be the few, with either worldview, who are incapable of understanding the other worldview of the other person; but this does in no way imply that Christian charity is no longer needed. Because we do not understand the other person's point of view, we should not assume that he is wrong, or foolish, or operating with ill will; neither should we ridicule or antagonize him. We should ap-proach those few, then, with the realization that a greater demand may be made upon our charity--they may ridicule or antagonize us but we need not respond in kind--and with a determination that we shall improve our relations with them. These last remarks lead us to a consideration of the lack of faith in the good will of the other person. There seems to be this lack of trust between old and young; but, more importantly, there seems to be some mutual lack of trust between superiors and subjects. Certainly the latter, but I think also the former, implies a limitation in our practical spirituality. What I mean by this is that, while supernatural faith is directed primarily to God, in that very fact it should also be directed toward men. Faith in God includes faith in God's loving kindness and grace-full influence upon men, especially upon men who have committed themselves totally to God. Accordingly, to say that one has faith in God and yet to manifest a radical lack of faith in men totally committed to God involves one, to some extent, in a contradiction. To point out what I have referred to as a limitation in our practical spirituality I would use, by way of ex-ample, our attitude toward what the Jesuits refer to as the "plus-sign." We seem today to disdain the term "plus-sign" and all that it connotes. On those rare occurrences when we do use it we manifest what we think that it means. Too often we apparently mean that we have al-ready judged the other person, thus fostering a negative image of him in ourselves, but that we will give him the ÷ ÷ ÷ Renewal VOLUME 2~ 1969 557 benefit of the doubt and not report him. I submit that the "plus-sign" does not connote this negative attitude but rather one that is quite positive. It is not an act which follows upon judgment but is an act which pre-cedes judgment. It is a humble admission of the fact that too little is known of the other person, especially of his degree of deliberation, to judge him on the basis of a solitary act. It is the suspension of judgment as opposed to rash judgment. I would suggest that this might be what Ignatius was referring to in the Praesupponendum to the Spiritual Exercises. I would also reiterate that it is doubt-ful that Ignatius wrote this to be used solely in the con-text of the Exercises; rather it was intended also as a principle of Christian living. In the light of all this, when we disagree with someone in principle, or concerning policy, should we seek out negative reasons for his position, especially if we do not understand his point of view or frame of reference? When we disagree with superiors in principle, or con-cerning policy, and realize that we cannot effect a change, would it not be more healthy and mature to seek out their reasons for maintaining the present system even while we continue to represent our views? Of course another requirement of our interpersonal relations is patience. Even if superiors were to agree that some changes might be beneficial, time would often be re-quired before they could be effected. Conversely, if changes are effected, how can we be so sure that they are failures after only three or four months of operation, especially if we have had little contact with that area? I would close as I began: emphasizing that these are some of my reflections concerning unity, at least limited, possibly erroneous. It was my intention, and is my hope, that these reflections might be a means of stimulating reflections on the problems of unity and ways in which the present degree of unity might be improved. A. D. Hecker, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 558 EDWARD R. TRUBAC Long-term Financial Planning for Religious Communities Faced* with scarce resources generated by a growing number of apostolates combined with a declining number of vocations, religious communities have increasingly turned to planning in order to allocate these resources in the best way possible. However, present planning has gen-erally been of a short-term nature principally designed to meet the rather immediate needs of the religious com-munity. Many decisions have been made without a clear notion of their long-run financial implications and with-out a careful analysis of alternative proposals. In my talk I would like to begin by discussing some basic principles of planning, then apply these principles to the long-range needs of religious communities, and conclude by tracing some of the financial implications of planning decisions, Basic Principles of Planning In referring to long-range planning, I am not talking about an informal annual get-together in which adminis-trators meet to give their opinions about the course of the future. Neither am I referring to the kind of planning which is initiated because of some kind of crisis, such as a sharp decline in profits for a firm or a sudden increase in instructional expenses for a school. This kind of plan-ning is really not planning at all; in fact, it ilIustrates the costs associated with a lack of planning in which options to act and shape events are restricted as one is forced to react and adapt to a given situation. Long-range planning is a formal, organized process in which a person or group of persons is 'specifically * This is the text of a talk given on February 26, 1969, at the Conference for Religious in Financial Management held at the University of Notre Dame. ÷ ÷ Edward R. Tru-bac is assistant pro-lessor of finance; University of Notre Dame; Notre Dame, Indiana 46556. VOLUME 2~ 1969 charged with developing a plan of what the organization should look like in five or ten years; the basic purpose of the plan is to mobilize the available resources of the or-ganization in a way that will best achieve its objectives: Firms which have adopted formal plans often seek new ventures through mergers, acquisitions, product line diversifi-cation, or market expansion. They are not satisfied with main-taining the status quo unless they determine, after careful analysis, that this is the best possible course of action. And, in some instances, a company can improve its performance significantly by planning ways to increase the efficiency of cun-ent operations, rather than following the more glamorous but more risky diversification route? To repeat, long-range or strategic planning, to use the more popular term, is essentially concerned with the eval-uation of alternative courses of action (with the stress on the word alternative) in an effort to select the best course of action for the future. And by best course of action, I mean the one that best meets the objectives of the organi-zation. ÷ ÷ ÷ Edward R. Trubac Planning Principles and the Long-Term Needs of Religious Communities This approach is obviously applicable to religious communities as well as to business firms. Like firms, re-ligious communities have in the past few yeais become more actively engaged both in "product line diversifica-tion" and efforts designed to improve the efficiency of current operations. For example, some alternatives that might be grouped within a long-term planning framework for a typical religious community would be: (a) Should the community continue to own and op-erate small hospitals, should only large ones be consid-ered, or should the community relinquish ownership ~ind merely staff hospitals and homes? (b) Is it advisable to continue the two-year college in its present form on the motherhouse campus or should it be discontinued and a house of formation set up near a university campus? (c) Should the community continue in elementary edu-cation, should expansion in secondary schools be consid-ered, or should sisters accept teaching positions in secular institutions? (d) Should a religious community operate only in schools andhospitals, or should many of the members be actively engaged in some of the various types of social work that are open to today's sister? A correct though obviously superficial answer to the REV1EW FOR RELIGIOUS x Harold W. Henry, "Formal Long-range Planning and Corpora-tion Performance," Michigan Business Review, November, 1968, 560 p. above questions would be to do what you think is best. But what is best is again dependent on your objectives. And while you may start with general goals, acceptable guidelines for decision-making must be phrased in con-crete and measurable terms. Here business firms have a decided advantage over non-profit organizations. For while a firm may have as its general objective the opera-tion of a diversified, growing, and profitable worldwide manufacturing business, its specific objective will prob-ably be couched in terms of a specified rate of return on investment; the evidence of the firm's success in meeting this goal can easily be gleaned from its financial report. For the typical religious community, the honor and glory of God and the sanctification of its members would adequately reflect its general objectives, these goals to be specifically achieved through the external works of char-ity of caring for the sick, social work, and the education and training of youth. But while the subobjectives of business firms (for example, a specified rate of return on investment) lend themselves to rather precise measure-ment and, therefore, evaluation, those of religious com-munities do not. First, it is difficult to identify measurable goals in health care, social work, and education, particu-larly Catholic education. And if you cannot specify your objectives in measurable terms, how can you accurately evaluate your operations? This is a problem that most non-profit institutions have in common. Moreover, even if you could express the objectives of each apostolate in meas-urable terms, there would still be the problem of com-paring different units of measurement; in other words, a firm can estimate the expected contribution of each new venture or product in terms of a common denominator-- profit. But how does a religious community, trying to maximize the benefits from its various activities, compare the gains from medical care with the gains from educa-tion when these benefits are expressed in different units of measurement? Finally, religious congregations are faced with the unique problem of structuring a community life that will maximize spiritual development as they al-locate their resources to their various works. Measurable Guidelines for Allocating Resources to the Various Apostolates Because of the difficulties in defining measurable units of output, value judgments will necessarily play a large role in the choice of community works. However, I do think there are some objective guidelines that should not be ignored. First, religious communities are constrained in selecting apostolic works by the specialized nature of their resources, both people and buildings. While people probably constitute the chief constraint, I am familiar ÷ ÷ Financial Planning VOLUME 213, 1969 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS with several cases o~ communities who have experienced difficulties in changing the pattern of their activities be-cause of the problems involved in liquidating their in-vestment in buildings and equipment. Now when I use the term constraint in referring to people, I do not mean to use it in a negative sense. If members of a religious community are competent in and motivated toward, for example, the medical care field, then the community should be in that area (one of the first steps in the planning process should be an inventory of talents and attitudes for the various works). Each apostolate can easily be broken down into several sub-apostolates that are in urgent need of competent and highly motivated people. To take the medical care apos-tolate as an example: (a) Religious communities strong in administrative personnel will continue the traditional pattern of ownership and manage-ment. (h) Some will wish to retain ownership and policy making responsibility but will be unwilling to pr.epare religious for administration. They will utilize religious m direct service to patients and in purely spiritual roles and will be obliged to place administration in the hands of seculars. (c) Others may give only direct care while still others, de-pending on their preferences and training, may engage in home nursing, care for the aged or programs for retarded and handicapped people.* Financial Considerations in the Planning Process Financial considerations must also play a roIe in plan-ning the optimal mix of activities. I would like to see religious communities, in formulating their long-term plans, estimate their expected net financial return on in-vestment in each of the apostolates under consideration; that is, they should calculate the financial costs and bene-fits of each apostolate. I am certainly not suggesting that if a community never expects to cover its expenses from a particular activity that it should drop that work. What I am saying is that it would be very useful to identify the apostolates that are expected to operate at financial losses over the next five to ten years. Because if projections show that certain activities will not generate sufficient income to meet expenses, then a decision to subsidize that apos-tolate will have to be made in the light of projected total financial resources, including income on investments, con-tributions, debt financing, surplus generating apostolates or a combination of all these approaches. I should like to digress for a moment and mention that while the expansion or contraction of investments in the various apostolates should not hinge merely on their ex- ~John J. Flanagan, S.J., "What I~ the Catholic Hospital Apos-tolate?" Hospital Progress, March, 1966, pp. 50-1. pected financial returns, there are other investments, those which are not directly involved in attaining the objec-tives of the order, where financial factors should domi-nate. Here I am including not only financial assets such as stocks and bonds but also such assets as the farm owned by many religious congregations. Apart from special con-siderations, such as the community's sensitivity to charges of its being land rich, the farm should be evaluated solely on the basis of its expected financial rate of return. The evaluation technique would basically first involve deter-mining the current investment in the farm in terms of equipment and building values plus the current market value of the land. One would estimate the net dollar re-turn on the farm for the next five or ten years including as your return both estimated net income from the farm and expected appreciation bf land values. An expected rate of return should then be secured by discounting these future dollar returns to the present; this rate would be compared to the return on alternative investment op-portunities. If the expected rate of return on the farm is less than 5%, the existing rate on time deposits, then one would be well advised on that basis to dispose of the farm. Determining the Costs of Apostolates In calculating the expected net financial return from each apostolate, the first step would be to examine cost experiences in the recent past as a basis for future cost projections; data for the past three to five years should be sufficient for this exercise, although it should be stressed that the usefulness of past data for projection purposes is inversely related to the degree of change experienced by the community in the recent past. Securing this infor-mation may well present some problems since the stand-ard chart of accounts used by many religious communi-ties is not structured around the various apostolates. There are usually separate accounts for the generalate, provincialate, and local houses; in addition, expenses are usually categorize.d along input (salaries, travel expenses, supplies, and so forth) and institutional (junior .college on the motherhouse campus) lines rather than focusing on the various outputs (medical care, educational work, social work) of the community. The junior college prob-ably serves more than one apostolate and these educa-tional costs should be allocated to the various works of + the community. In the same vein, the category travel ex- + penses will also include costs associated with a variety of ~" apostolates. In addition, an attempt should be made, where possible, to allocate administrative expenses among .1~i.na~.ia't P!anning the different works of the community. I am not advocat-ing a wholesale overhaul of the accounting systems, of VOLUME aa, ~96~, religious communities. I am merely suggesting a supple- 563 REV]EW FOR RELIGIOUS mental technique designed specifically for long-term plan-ning purposes that will facilitate the cost projections for each of the various apostolates. In ferreting out all costs, the focus should primarily be on the educational, administrative, maintenance, and re-tirement costs associated with placing and sustaining peo-ple in the various apostolates; per capita expenses in each of these categories for each of the apostolates should be derived, summed, and projected into the future; this re-suiting figure should then be multiplied by the estimated number of people in each of the community's activities in order to secure a total estimated cost figure for each apos-tolate. Capital expenditures on building and equipment directly associated with the works of the community (par-ticularly hospitals and colleges as a result of the contin-uing trend toward separate ificorporation and ownership) should ordinarily not be treated as an expense to the com-munity although there are certainly numerous cases where, for example, debt service requirements generated by building programs could not be met by the school or hospital and constituted a severe financial drain on the religious community. One of the great advantages of identifying costs, for ex-ample, the costs of educating sisters, is that it permits one to price and compare alternative approaches to supply-ing the same or approximately the same type of educa-tion. Although I will readily admit that considerations other than financial are extremely important and even overriding in certain situations, still the right kind of fi-nancial information will at least permit a comparison of the costs of sending a person to be educated at the junior college for sisters on the motherhouse campus with the cost of education at a university. The question of which costs less will require careful analysis but the cost differ-ential will probably not be as great as might be deter-mined from examining the accounting records of many religious communities; that is, the cost may not be ap-preciably less to send a person to junior college and may, in fact, be more expensive. One of the hidden costs I am alluding to is the failure of many religious communities to fully account for the contributed services of the mem-bers of the order who are teaching in these colleges. By contributed services, I mean in this case the salary that a member of the religious community could have earned teaching at a university minus her maintenance costs at the motherhouse that are met by the community. For ex-ample, if the subsistence needs of a religious teaching at a junior college for sisters are valued at $2,000 a year while she could have earned $10,000 annually teaching at a university, then the contributed services would total $8,000. A recent survey by one of the graduates of our program in institutional administration indicated that only 50% of the junior colleges surveyed included con-tributed services in their budget as an expense to be met by the community. This omission gives a very distorted picture of the true costs of operating junior colleges. A less hidden but perhaps more controversial cost is that of depreciation. The traditional argument against non-profit institutions depreciating their capital assets is that the needed funds are not generated from operating income as with a business firm, but are commonly ob-tained through fund-raising campaigns. I feel, however, that all costs should be identified, regardless of how they are met. Moreover, communities may find donations to be a very undependable source of funds in the future. As a further point, most hospitals depreciate their capital as-sets. This policy on the part of hospitals of accounting for depreciation has been given added stimulus by third party payments which explicitly recognize depreciation as a reimbursable cost (for example, Medicare). As these third party payments become more widespread in the area of education, accounting for depreciation expenses will correspondingly grow in popularity. Again, it should be emphasized that identifying the education costs of sisters prods administrators to trace out alternative cost patterns. Another possibility, for ex-ample, is the growing practice of affiliate membership in which the person finances her own college education if at all possible, but maintains regular contacts with the con-gregation. This policy, of course, would be the least ex-pensive (it would also meet the problem of people leav-ing the community after being educated but before earning any return for the community); but the issue of the impact on vocations would certainly have to be care-fully explored. A similar analysis should be applied to maintenance, administrative, and retirement costs. Past cost data allo-cated among the various apostolates should be secured as a basis for projecting total costs in the future. The pro-jected cost of current procedures should then be com-pared with cost projections of alternative ways of meeting these needs. Projecting Net Financial Returns from Each of the Apostolates After the cost information has been properly processed, the last step in this exercise would require the projection of net financial returns for each of the various apostolates. These financial returns vary widely, depending on the particular activity. It should come as no surprise that the financial returns to religious communities are particu-larly meager from the Catholic secondary and elementary ÷ ÷ + Finandal Planning VOLUME 28, 1969 REVIEI/V FOR RELIGIOUS school apostolates. For religious teaching in colleges and universities and especially for those working in the medi-cal care area where contributed services are considered as reimbursable costs, the financial returns are competitive with those received by lay people with similar qualifica-tions and experience. But the salary and fringe benefits received by the typical sister teaching in a Catholic ele-mentary school (and this is irrespective of whether the school is community or diocesan owned) falls far short of even meeting the expenses incurred by the community in placing the sister in that position. The most detailed in-formation concerning this issue has been derived from Father Ernest Bartell's study on the financing of Catholic education. The data go back to 1963-64, but they serve their illustrative purpose. They show that the per capita contributed services of religious teaching in two dioceses averaged $5425 in one diocese and $3572 in the other.3 Contributed services are specifically defined as the salary that could have been earned by the religious teaching in the public school minus all recorded parish expenditures on behalf of the religious teachers, including cash sal-aries, gifts, and convent maintenance. In addition, a rental charge imputed on the parish investment in con-vent living facilities should be deducted; this charge would be equivalent to the earnings foregone by the parish on a comparable commercial investment. In his study Father Bartell also estimated that if one religious order teaching in one of the dioceses were just to break even and recoup its educational and retirement investment in its members, then it would have had to re-ceive $1057 yearly from each of its teachers over an aver-age working life of 40 years, even assuming that these payments could be invested at 5% during the lifetime of the religious teacher.4 Since the members of this order annually remitted, after current expenses, only $360 each back to the motherhouse, the $700 difference might be looked upon as a subsidy paid by the religious commu-nity to the diocese. Now, I am not going to strongly argue for or against this particular subsidy although I do believe that alter-native ways of reducing it should be carefully examined. One way might be to negotiate with diocesan authorities for salary increases. Another possible approach might be state aid where the contributed services of the sister would perhaps be recognized as a reimbursable cost, as in the medical care field. Or the community might simply 8 Ernest J. Bartell, C.S.C., "Efficiency, Equity and the Economics of Catholic Schools," Catholic Education Today and Tomorrow: Proceedings of the Washington Symposium on Catholic Education, 1968, pp. 12-3. *Ibid., p. decide that its estimated total financial resources will be sufficient to subsidize this apostolate. Conclusion In conclusion, I would like to see a statement along the following hypothetical lines included in the formal plan of each religious community. In deciding on the op-timum amount of resources to be devoted to apostolate A, B, C, and D, we have considered alternative ways of meeting the expenses associated with each activity and have chosen the best alternative for each. Next, in esti-mating the net financial benefits [or each of the aposto-lates over the next five to ten years, we project that activ-ity A will run a large deficit. But despite this expected deficit, we wish to keep our commitment to this aposto-late and estimate that apostolates B, C, and D will gener-ate a surplus of a sufficient size which when combined with income on investments and expected donations will meet the deficit in A. I strongly feel that this type of approach will add a more realistic dimension to community planning. Finandal Planning VOLUME 28, 1969 567 LOUIS TOMAINO Religious Community and the Johari W ndow ÷ ÷ Louis Tomaino is the associate di-rector of Worden School of Social Service; Our Lady of the Lake Col-lege; San Antonio, Texas 78207. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 568 The building of effective human community is gen-erally regarded as one of the most critical issues facing religious orders now and in the near future. Such community spirit is essentially a group phenomenon and it may be that certain findings in group dynamics are very relevant to religious communities. In this paper we are concerned mainly with communities of women. In evaluating the kinds of relationships present in human community, a conceptual model designed by Joe Luft and Harry Ingham for use in the National Train-ing Laboratories seems particularly helpful. It is called the Johari Window.1 This model, although not prepared specifically for religious, states that the sister by her actions and words in the community, projects a kind of "window" of herself which is viewed by others. Other members of the community likewise project similar windows and the sum total of these projections is a powerful dynamic which fashions group relationships in that community. The Johari Window represents four kinds of informa-tion which governs the flow of relationships among community members involved. This includes: A. Things the sister knows about herself and the community and about her feelings about others. B. Things the sister does not know about herself and the community and about her relationships with others. C. Things others in the community know about the sister and the community. D. Things others do not know about sister and the community and about the relationships therein. By "things" we mean sisters' thoughts, impulses, desires, fears, fantasies, prejudices, hopes, dreams and goals. Thus, sister's Johari might look like this: a Joseph Luft, "Johari's Window," Human Relations Training News, v. 5 (1961), p. 6. Things known by others Things unknown by others Things known by sister THE ARENA (open area of the re-lationship) THE FACADE (are~ of hidden de-fenses) Things unknown by sister THE BLIND SPOT (realities not recog-nized) THE UNKNOWN (unexplored reali-ties) 1. The Arena--This is that part of the relationship which is open: ". the cards are on the table." This refers to that part of sister that is completely honest because she faces community issues in the open. When group issues or problems are known and faced by all members openly, we say that these things are in the arena. 2. The Blind Spot This area comprises those thoughts, feelings, and so forth which sister has, but of which she is not aware. However, others in the com-munity do see these things in her because her actions and words make them visible. For example, the sister with definite authoritarian leanings may not recognize this tendency in her interactions with others, but others see itl 3. The Facade--This area consists of feelings, moti-vations, and so forth which sister has, but keeps hidden for whatever reason, oftentimes because she may con-sider their revelation as inappropriate. Therefore, while she knows these things about herself, other community members are not able to perceive them. 4. The Unknown--This includes those aspects of sister's group relations which are unexplored, latent, unconscious, and simply not known. The goal in building community is to make the Arena as large as possible so that conditions for com-munication are improved through openness, free inter-change and productive action. Everything we have said so far about sister can truly be said about community. Realistically, the obstacles to developing real com-munity cannot be dealt with until they are known. These hurdles cannot even be accurately identified until sister and the community develop an open arena where issues can be placed. Therefore, how does one go about establishing a large arena? Let's consider two processes termed exposure and feedback and how they may be utilized to alter sister's Johari. If she really opens up with other sisters, if she + lohari Win¢lo~ is not too insecure to discuss her own doubts and questions, sister will be revealing something of her-self. This is exposure. She will humanize herself by demonstrating that she too is subject to many of the hazards faced by others. Whitaker2 refers to four kinds of openness. Verbal openness, or the process of using direct words to express to another exactly what we mean. ,4ffective openness or the sharing with others our personal experience of boredom, depression, anger, warmth, fantasy, and physical contact. Physiologic open-ness as shown through expressing a blush, hunger, or a headache. No purpose openness is the occasional idle hour, the no-point-in-it encounter, where people are "just there" with no visible goals in mind. To do this comfortably requires real open-endedness. In performing these kinds of things the sister shows part of herself and neutralizes some of her facade. The horizontal line of the Johari is moved downward, thereby enlarging the arena, eliminating some facade and mak-ing the unknown area smaller. Feedback means simply a way of securing some knowl-edge about ourselves as individuals and as community members. It is indispensable to establishing lines of communication and to changing ourselves. This idea urges that the sister create opportunities whereby others may give her feedback on herself. This feedback might tell her things about herself which she did not previously know and thereby elimi-nate some blind spot. The perpendicular line of the Johari" is moved laterally which makes the arena larger, the blind spot smaller, and the unknown is further diminished. If the Sister desires and secures both feedback and exposure, her Johari would look like this: Feedback REVIEW'FOR RELIGIOUS ~ Carl Whitaker, M.D., "Open Communication from the Psycho. therapist," Existential Psychiatry, Spring, 1966, pp. 55-8. The large arena suggests that something is really happening in the life of this sister. Blind spots (I didn't realize you thought I didn't like you) are clarified. The unknown is decreased (I'm glad we both know how we feel on this point), and energies previously used to maintain facades are now diverted to more constructive purposes. The possibilities for communica-tion and change are vastly enhanced with things now put into the arena where they can be managed. We are suggesting, in effect, that those religious groups characterized by large arenas have created conditions favorable to building effective community. The sum of individual Johari's in the group tends to promote a general or average Johari for the whole community. The larger the arena, the greater the chance for ef-fective community. The question might indeed he raised: Of what value to community life are blind spots, facades, or unknowns? Some other, and extreme, windows sometimes seen in both individuals and communities are as follows: The large unknown tells that this sister desires neither feedback nor exposure. She is strictly official and operates by "the rule." Other sis-ters never get to know her. In this situation the sister is willing to expose, hence the small facade. She tolerates no feedback from others in the community and thereby does not know what others think of her. This sister constantly seeks feed-back from others but is not willing to put herself "on the line" with others. Hence the large facade. Too much facade breeds conditions for mistrust. Needless to say, the climates generated by such win-dows are not conducive to developing the kinds of + atmospheres associated with productive community life. + ÷ Some Findings about Sisters Jay Hall and Martha Williams developed a Personnel Relations Survey~ inventory of 60 items which, when s Jay Hall and Martha Williams, Personnel Relatio~ Survey, ~ohari Window VOLUME 28, 1969 571 taken by individuals, projects for them a personal Johari Window profile. Group profiles can also be averaged out on this test. In the past year this writer has administered the Johari Test to approximately 600 sisters from various congregations as part of Group Dynamics Workshops. Using a total sample of 500 sisters we are able to secure interesting data on the kinds of windows projected by sisters. Hall and Williams constructed their questionnaire in such a way that it yields a Johari for the respondent relative to his subordinates, to his colleagues, and to his superiors. It also illustrates an "average" Johari for each respondent. The generalizations about sisters which can be made from the 500 taking the test are these: 1. Sisters tend to be slightly more open than other groups tested in workshop (ex-school teachers, social workers, policemen). Given the goals and values of religious group life, however, the sisters do not appear to be significantly more open than other less cohesive groups. 2. Sisters tend to be less open with their superiors than with subordinates or colleagues. This may be a product more of unapproachable superiors than of reti-cent sisters. Sisters revealed greater facade with su-periors than with the other two groups. 3. Arenas were larger with colleagues than with the other two groups. 4. Sisters seem to be more concerned with feedback than with exposure which seems to be typical of most groups. Out of a possible high score of 50 the sisters tallied an average score of 35 for feedback and 29 for exposure. In summary the general relationship tendencies of the 500 sisters appeared as shown on following page. Looking at the type of window projected by sisters suggests information which may be helpful in develop-ing greater openness among sisters, hence more effective community. The survey shows that sisters tend to be less open with superiors than with the two other groups. How can openness be achieved in this area? Many modern theo-logians stress the fact that religious obedience can be thought of as a shared responsibility. The Holy Spirit speaks through the entire community and not only through the superior. It seems, therefore, the re-sponsibility of each individual sister to contribute to REVIEW FOR RELI$10U$ unpublished training inventory, Southwest Center for Law and the 572 Behavioral Sciences, University of Texas at Austin, 1965. E u r e 5 10 15 20 '25 30 35 45 50 5 Feedback ) 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 community development by sharing her ideas, sugges-tions, and other Johari "things" with others. If the spirit works through each person, how can the commu-nity know the will of God if each is not willing to share? In making decisions which affect the community each sister assumes a great responsibility. It has been found that decisions reached via consensus tend to be more accurate than individual or minority decisions. Consensual thinking in the community can be gained through open discussion, sharing, and listening on the part of each community member. Although arriving at such decisions in community meetings may be time consuming, their very importance suggests that the group might well afford the time involved. Creating an atmos-phere of openness requires conscious work over months or even years. Thus, we seem to be saying that human community can be nurtured by development of a large arena through the conscious use of both openness and feed-back. The documents of Vatican II, especially the Church in the Modern World, lend eloquent support to this idea as seen in the following statements: h¯f eT wheh epnr itmheit mivue lCtithuudrec hof. pbreohveivdeerds ,w aenr ee xoaf monpele h oefa rct oamndm ounneity mind, and found nourishment in the teaching of the gospel and in the sacred liturgy, especially the Eucharist. Let such a life continue in prayerfulness and a sharing of the same spirit. As Christ's members living fraternally together, let + ÷ lohari Window VOLUME 28, 1969 573 them excel one another in showing respect and let each carry the other's burdens. For thanks to God's love poured into hearts by the Holy Spirit, a religious community is a true fam-ily gathered together in the Lord's name and rejoicing in His presence . In fact, brotherly unity shows that Christ has come; and from it results great apostolic influence (Decree on the Appropriate Renewal o[ the Religious Li[e, n. 15). Thus it is evident to everyone that all the faithful of Christ of whatever rank or status are called to the fullness of the Christian life and to the perfection of charity. By this holi-ness a more human way of life is promoted even in this earthly society (Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, n. 40, par. 3). The People of God and the human race in whose midst it lives render service to each other. Thus the mission of the Church will show its religious, and by that very fact, its su-premely human character (The Church in the Modern World, n. 11). Let .chapters and councils faithfully acquit themselves of the govermng role given to them; each should express in its own way the fact that all members of the community have a share in the welfare of the whole community and a responsibility for it (Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life, n. 14). Christ arouses not only a desire for the age to come, but by that very fact, He animates, purifies and strengthens those noble longings too by which the human family strives to make its life more human (The Church in the Modern World, n. 38, par. 3). Through her individual members and her whole commu-nity, the Church believes she can contribute greatly toward making the family of man and its history, more human (The Church in Modern World, n. 40, par. 5). ÷ ÷ Louis Tomaino REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 574 JOSEPH F. ROCCASALVO, S.J. The Presence of Christ in Christian Community The presence of Christ in the Christian community is a fascinating topic, but one that is not easy to treat in a free and familiar style. This is so, because we face a difficult and important question: how can we adequately recognize this presence in our experience. In reading any answer, no matter how well formulated, we must avoid the mistake of expecting too much. The bodily Christ is hidden from our view. Unlike the Apostles who walked with Him in Jerusalem or stood close by when He preached from the waters of Galilee, His visible counte-nance cannot now be seen, touched, or handled. It is not that we feel He hides Himself capriciously; yet there are times when we are overwhelmed by our desire to see Him, without resorting to any writer's conception or artist's portrait. We are tempted to cry out: "Christ, come forthI Let Your loyal followers look upon You. Draw the screen that conceals Your presence from our hu-man eyes." But despite our pleas there is no physical ap-pearance, and we would not dare to hope for one. In addressing myself to the preceding difficulty, I shall formulate my answer through an indirect use of con-cepts. By this I mean that such concepts will try to illumine for the reader the experience they point to, without intending to adequate it entirely. Since we are dealing with the most personal dimension of Christianity, our faith or commitment to a Person, its ultimate signifi-cance must lie beyond the frontier of language in the do-main of mystery. Yet granting this radical incommuni-cability in the final analysis, one may use concepts as long as it is remembered that they are open to the term towards which they aspire. The reader, then, must be like one who contemplates an horizon. Beyond the outline of words he seeks perspectives which he can barely discern but which draw him precisely because of the mystery he + Joseph A. Roc-casalvo, s.J., is a member of Wood-stock College in Woodstock, Mary-land 21163. VOLUME 28, 1969 ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph F. Roccasa~o, $.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS senses in them. The formulation is of value, not only for what it says, but also for what it may suggest. As a point of departure for this analysis, we must start with our experience. In assigning content to this word we take. it to mean the whole range o~ the self's active relationship with the other, or the entire range of reality as disclosed to me and to which I respond. But this is my experience: it is the real as disclosed to one who is a Christian, committed to the Church and the faith of the Church. Since faith is part of my experience, part of the real as disclosed to me, it must necessarily be a Christian experience, including all that the life of faith includes. Here it must be recalled that my faith is first and foremost a commitment to a Person who has invited me to share a life in which He Himself will be my ful-fillment. In other words, my faith is a total response of mind and heart to Christ who has entered my world and lived His li~e in our midst. What, then, is the purpose of a Christian who reflects upon his experience to which his faith is interior? Since my personal relationship with Christ is a lived conviction, an intimate part of the reality that discloses itself to me, I shall try in my reflection to spell out the implications of this total commitment. I undertake this task because I am compelled by my freedom to take a personal stand towards my life and to be fully responsible for that stand. I must use the reasoned reflection of the philo-sophical method to avoid doing this naively. In brief, I shall try to discern by analysis how my personal commit-ment to Christ makes Him present to me, not in terms of revelation or the magisterium of the Church, but as dis-closed in my lived experience. This reflection, then, will help make me a more responsible and responsive Chris-tian. As I have indicated, the faith which is interior to my lived experience is fundamentally a personal commit-ment of mind and heart to the Person of Clu-ist. He has spoken to me in time, using words which He has in-tended for all men. Included within these words is the promise of continued presence, in spite of visible ab-sence: "Where two or more are gathered in my name, I am in the midst"; or, "If anyone will love me. I will mani-fest myself to him." Still again He tells us: "I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world." While I cannot expect that His presence will be manifest by some physical appearance, I may rightly expect, through trust in His personal promise, some kind of experimental awareness of His presence in and through the gathered Christian community. Our inquiry can be placed in the form of a thesis statement: whether or not there is a special presence of Christ, experienced within the Chris- tian community. If there is, how can it be described phenomenologically, and what are the requisites for this partictalar theophany? Our question can be restated more dynamically: when I experience my witness to this Person in communion with other Christians, how does He "draw nigh"? Is His presence a diffused, unthematized one, con-comitant with the consciousness of the Christian com-munity; and if this is so, how may it be thematized upon reflection? This analysis, of course, does not necessarily exclude His coming-to-presence in other ways. Before we can discover what is the special character of Christ's presence in the witnessing Christian community, we must first analyse the meaning of this rather elusive word. ~Nhat does it mean to have someone or something present? The dictionary tells us. that the word is used in at least two distinct senses: first, it can mean physical presence, namely, that which is or stands before one, in view or at hand; that which is spatially located in this place and not elsewhere. Second, the word may have a temporal significance, referring to contemporaneous pres-ence, or that which is not past or future, but is operative in the time that is now. It is precisely in these two senses of physical and contemporaneous presence that phe-nomenologists like Luijpen have described man's terres-trial life as an intentional existence in and towards the world through knowledge and love. Through knowledge the world is physically and con-temporaneously present to my consciousness as I am to it, for to know is simply to exist as present with the world. Therefore, it is through this co-presence of knowledge that the world begins to disclose itself and be for a man. ~,Vithin this disclosure the meaning of the world refers itself to other human presences, so that as I live I realize that the world presents itself, not merely for me, but for the other also. The world is present to us both, one we mutually encounter. My presence in the world is emi-nently co-presence. Gradually I begin to realize that the presence to me of persons is radically different from things. While the latter are unaware of me, in fact, are indifferent to my stature as a man, my presential awareness of persons tells me that they may take my presence uniquely into account, re-sponding warmly to my whole world of needs, concerns, and achievements. I have given the other access to myself in a way that is beyond the power of things. Of course, the responsiveness of the other to me is subject to degrees of encounter. For instance, I can meet someone with cordiality, shake hands with him, and sit down to dinner and conversation. On the other hand, I can speak to the same person on the telephone, or merely notice him on the opposite side of the street without speaking to him at The Pr,~ence o~ Christ 4, ÷ Joseph F. l~occo~a~vo, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS all. Our mutual presence to one another can remain on a distant, functional level, or it can open itself to more pro-found degrees of responsiveness. Through love my reply to the other's presence is a reply to his unique personhood. He has become for me a cen-ter of new meaning, so that whenever he comes within the range of my presence, I experience an appeal to con-sent to his, to accept it, to support and share it. He now becomes a presence which I cherish, someone who stands lovingly before me when he is visibly in view. Even when he is physically absent, his unique subjectivity grows into an atmosphere which encompasses me and abides, despite the most engrossing tasks. This is what is meant by being-loved. The other's loving presence makes my personal life be more fully and by his affection, aids and favors it. I no longer face the future as an isolated self-presence, and this alone is perhaps the most profound witness of love's contemporaneity: it has created a "we" that brings plenitude and happiness. Having seen from the preceding analysis how the per-son is present, to me through knowledge and love, we can now pass on to the next step in our analysis of Christ's communal presence. Since the Christian community is fundamentally made up of persons who confess a com-mitment to this Person as interior to their, experience, for the sake of ordered procedure we shall first describe the growth of the individual person's unique response to Christ, and then inquire what role the community played in its development. Someone may object, however, that description of such an affective relationship with Him is difficult, if not impossible, because as subject of my love, He does not come within the scope of the senses. This objection would be valid, were His visible presence abso-lutely necessary to sustain such a relationship. But as we shall see, bodily absence does not a priori exclude a personal confrontation with Him. Since "He was made in all things like unto man, sin alone excepted," or, in other words since He is wholly man, my loving commit-ment to Him will follow an interpersonal pattern. He will not let me doubt His intimate friendship with me, nor will He let me think that He is far removed to another sphere or order of creation. We are both persons, and to ascertain the degrees of encounter with one another is to see applied the formulations derived, from the phe-nomenology of love. Let us look back, for a moment, and see how presential knowledge of Him blossomed into the presence of love. As a Christian who steps back and reflects upon the history of his love for Christ, I discover that initially my contact with Him was a certain mild acquaintance, mostly derived through insertion in the world of other Christians. Through dialogue this man was seen as a source and center of activity, a Person of boundless understanding, tender heart, and constancy in action. There was a certain generous and uplifting quality about Him, which made Him both admirable and attractive. The personal dynamism of this man was present to me as something known, though somehow memorable. He was contemporaneously present to my life via the intentional-ity of knowledge. Gradually the knowledge of this man becomes in-teriorized and the remoteness of history vanishes. He is no longer a figure of the past, nor His life a fact of some past history, preserved through a lasting record. His words have a vitality which make them come alive for me, while those of other men are dead, or living only in books and monuments left behind. This man's words are timeless, and as they have beckoned to all men of all ages, they beckon to me now and call for my response: "I am the way and the truth and the light"; and again, "Come to me all you who are burdened and I will refresh you." The sheer radiance of.this man becomes indispensable in my eyes and wakens me to a new life. Admittedly His presence is not a bodily one, but in some ineffable way, His spirit is operative and quickens me now, so that He is contemporaneous with my life. His appeal to come and follow Him, to accept, support, and share His subjec-tivity is one to which I utter an uncompromising yes. I commit myself to this Person, adopt His name, and set Him up for my ideal. He is now not merely one whom I respect at a distance, but one for whom I care. I plan my destiny not alone, but with Him, for He is more to me than some unblemished truth or way of enlightenment. My whole being is seized by the desire to let Him be as He declared Himself: my very God. He is now the center of my experience, my faith, and what formerly existed as an object known in the knower, is now replaced by one who is cherished as a beloved is in a most intimate friend. This sense of togetherness between Christ and myself does not involve His bodily presence, to be sure. But it is not absolutely necessary that there be such a nearness to sustain our love. In order for two people to continue loving one another, it is not requisite that each be visibly on hand for the other. In fact, in the separation of two people in love, their affective response is still a con-temporaneous experience of a lasting bond. Their mu-tual love, despite distance, remains as a tonality, as an abiding atmosphere that permeates each other no matter what the task. How often have we heard it said: "I do not forget you; you are always in my thoughts." We do not reflect on the deep reality that lies beneath these words. We do not understand, or rather, realize, that when two ÷ ÷ The Presence Christ VOLUME 28, 1969 ,579 ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph F. Roccasalvo, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 580 persons are united in love, they do not need to lie visibly side by side like two bodies. They are already in each other. This is the principle of all love union, and in particular, of the intimate friendship which is that union's highest form. So it is with myself and Christ to whom I have committed my life. Indeed I look forward hopefully (as anyone who has loved) to the time when we may be reunited in a face to face encounter. But for the extent of my waking life, this Person shall remain an abiding presence for me, operative within the center of my experience. At this point in our analysis, someone might offer the following conscientious objection: how was it possible to have achieved such a loving relationship with Christ, let alone sustain His contemporaneous presence, when one never had the occasion to confront Him in person? Is it not necessary to "ground," in some way, my power to respond? It is here that one must analyse the delicate role of the Christian community in aiding the growth of my personal commitment to Christ. Since I have discovered Him as the personal center of my life, He has also been disclosed as that center to which the common-unity of Christians offer their affirmation of love. Therefore, my commitment to this Person is not an insulated one. In fact, His presence as a presence-to-be. responded to in love would not have been possible if, anterior to my coming, there had not been a community that already celebrated their loving relationship to Him. This community was a "formative milieu," into which I was inserted and which allowed for this growth and re-sponsiveness in love. Therefore, just as I can only grasp myself as a person through the communal presence of other persons who appeal to me for a unique reply, so also I can only grow in a loving, presential awareness of Him insofar as He is disclosed in and through the Christian community. We will better see the roIe of the community as the place of His presence by seeking to un-derstand what transpires within its interior. In the community of Christians, the Person of Christ is the link which binds us, one to the other. This is so, because He is the point of agreement

Transcript of an oral history interview with David Zobeck conducted by Sarah Yahm at the Sullivan Museum and History Center on February 10, 2015, as part of the Norwich Voices oral history project. The bulk of the interview focuses on Zobeck's experiences as an an instructor of the Transcendental Meditation technique, both at Norwich University and elsewhere. ; 1 David Zobeck, NU Instructor, Oral History Interview February 10, 2015 Interviewed by Sarah Yahm SARAH YAHM: So, I'm here with Dave Zobeck at Norwich, in our little studio at the Sullivan Museum. It is February 10th, 2015, which I know because tomorrow is my birthday. DAVE ZOBECK: Well, happy birthday tomorrow, in advance. SY: Thank you. I wasn't fishing for that or anything. DZ: No, not at all. SY: (laughs) And we're about to do an oral history interview. And so, question one is where were you born? DZ: I was born in Pueblo, Colorado, which happens to be a steel mill town. And it is the largest steel mill west of the Mississippi. And it's a town with wonderful mixed ethnicity. So, my neighborhood was from Yugoslavia, from Ljubljana in Yugoslavia, in Slovenia. And there's about a 12 or 13 block, square block area near the -- right on top of the steel mill. And then, on the other side of the bridge, there's a good-size Italian community. And now Latinos, mostly Mexicans, dominate the city's population. There's an African American population as well, Jewish and Greek. So, it's kind of like a little Pittsburgh. Little bit of everything. And I love it. It was a marvelous experience. I'm one of eight children, so we were good and Catholic. SY: What's your birth order? DZ: My -- I'm the sixth out of eight. So, I have a younger brother and a younger sister, yeah. SY: Number six. DZ: Yes. SY: You're, like, in the messy middle, right? DZ: Yes, kinda sorta, yeah. But, yeah, it was -- so, it's a marvelous experience growing up in that city. And really paid dividends, being exposed to all the different ethnicities. And, you know, we have pictures of -- when we were on our baseball team, it kind of looked like something out of the United Nations, you know? Little bit of everything. And we were cursed in several different languages when we won games, and it was marvelous. It was good experience. SY: Were there turf wars or was it [pretty immigrant?] -- DZ: No, no, not at all. It was very integrated. And especially my neighborhood, it was truly the statement about it takes a community to raise a child. I mean, the families looked out for each other and -- very much so. SY: Were your parents immigrants, too? DZ: My father -- my grandparents were. My father was born in this country. And my dad -- the house that I grew up in is the house that my father grew up in. So, my grandmother bought the house after my grandfather died in a -- extraordinary accident at work where he was killed with -- by a train. And my father was standing there, watching. And so, they bought the house, and my grandmother was raising the rest of the children. They had five children, and then she was also -- it was a boarding -- she was -- like a boarding house for steel mill workers. So, she would cook for them and so on and so forth, and that would help pay the rent and so on, so forth, so -- SY: And was that happening when you were a kid? 2 DZ: No, no, that was when my father was six years old. So -- SY: Oh, so she raised him alone? DZ: She raised them alone, yes. So, you know, it's a neighborhood and a community of extremely excellent work ethic. And if you're not work-- I mean, there was no welfare, just out of pride. Not that there wasn't a need for it. But no one would accept that. SY: Union town? DZ: Yes, and -- but they -- just was not going to happen. And everyone was -- you know, very -- oh, the yards were really well kept. The kids were clean, the -- you know, there was little to no crime other than orneriness. You know, lot of patriotism. Lot of guys went to war, and -- during World War II and then during Vietnam, my generation. So, it was a very beautiful experience because, you know, we were raised Catholic. The mass was in Slovenian for the older folks that didn't speak English. And then, you know, all the festivities and holidays -- and some of my friends who were Greek and Italian and Mexican and -- you know, when they had the festivals and -- everybody went and mixed, and it was great. It was a -- it's a marvelous place to grow up, but very -- definitely very blue collar. And all the children in my family worked their way through college. And that was the joy of my father, to see everyone with a college degree, of course, and all of our children and his grandchildren and great-grandchildren have -- everyone that could have graduated from college -- like, 48 of us or something like that, total, with nieces and nephews have graduated from college. And we expect success. We're going to make that. So, it was a really beautiful -- yeah, I'm very fortunate. SY: So, growing up, was the expectation that you would work in the steel mill or that you would get out? DZ: Oh, my family didn't work at the steel mill. My father didn't want that. He wanted us to do something different and -- not that it was a negative thing, but -- SY: He had seen his father die in a work-related accident. DZ: He did, and -- but he worked in a clothing store for a long time and was the manager of a clothing store. And then it burned down. And because he had assisted a customer who was extremely well off in -- fitting him with a suit, my father was excellent at doing that. And he was cleaning up the store one night after hours and he looked in the dressing room where this man was trying on his clothes, and he saw a paper bag and it was filled with money. And so, he knew who that belonged to. So, my father never drove a car. We didn't own a car. And my mother and father never drove a car their entire lives. Got on the bus and it took him, you know, an hour or so to get across town. And he knocked on the door, presented this bag of money to this gentleman. And, of course, he offered my father a reward, and that wasn't going to happen. And he got back on the bus, got home. Well, after the store burned down, my father was scrambling, looking for a job and "What are we going to do?" He has eight kids, and phone rings one day and it's this gentleman who left his money in the store. And he said, "I understand that the store burned down and you might be looking for work." He said, "If you call this number at the Pueblo ordnance depot," it's an Army depot, "they might be able to direct you some employment." So, my father called, and sure enough connected him to a job. So, he worked there for another, you know, 25 years as a federal government employee and was able to continue to support us and that sort of thing. So, you know, there -- it was a beautiful story, but I don't look back on it -- I don't feel -- we don't feel sorry for ourselves. It wasn't a poor us -- you know, we were poor, but it -- we were not at the 3 same time. I mean, we were rich with my parents and my brothers and sisters. And it was always a fun place for friends to come to the house, because they knew my mother would love them, and we would have a good time. And we were all athletic, we liked to play. And, you know, thank God, with all -- as rowdy as we were, there were no broken bones in the family or any sort of major illnesses. And so, in that regard, it was a -- we were real fortunate. But I'm extremely fortunate, so -- I had a marvelous upbringing. Marvelous. Yeah, no complaints. SY: So, well, I have two questions. DZ: Sure. SY: First of all, when you're a little kid and you're this kid running around on the streets, right, playing outside -- DZ: Sure. SY: -- what'd you want to be when you grew up? What were your dreams and visions? And also, what did you play? Do you remember if you had imaginary games that you played? DZ: Well, first of all, the games -- we played every sport imaginable. And one of the reasons is that, you know, we didn't go skiing because we didn't have the money or the transportation. But we did have a shotgun in the house, so my brother and I went hunting, you know? We would hunt ducks and geese and pheasants and, you know, quail and rabbit and -- not deer. We didn't have a rifle, but -- and we would eat everything that we shot. It was pretty good. So, that was one of the things that we did. The other thing -- I mean, we just dreamt of -- one of the things I wanted to be when I was younger was I wanted to be a professional baseball player. I always thought that I would be "in the show," you know? And I'm sure every young boy in that neighborhood who took up a glove and a ball and a bat had the same thing. I mean, we always had the same -- we thought we would all be on the same team. I mean, there was so much community spirit. And then, my younger brother was drafted several times and was very magical in his talents. And so, he was better than I was. He was younger. And that was my dream, that he -- then it, my dream, kind of shifted from myself doing that to him. So, I was helping him do everything he could to do that, because that was our dream. And in his senior year in college, unfortunately, he was injured and didn't get to make it. And that was a -- at that time, of course, it was a tragic event for both of us, you know? We saw this dream go by. But I think, at one point, I thought, early on -- I thought I might be a priest. And there was always this idea that the oldest -- I mean, one of the boys in every family would become a priest. And so, I thought it was me, and I enjoyed that thought. It was kind of cool. I just loved the parish priest. He was from Slovenia, and he was just -- he had such a heart of gold. He liked to help everyone, and I liked that feeling of helping everyone, and then the idea of saying mass and that was kind of cool. And these Catholic nuns, some of them were much better than others, of course. But there was one that was particularly interesting, and she was from our neighborhood. She grew up in our neighborhood, so she knew our culture and everything. So, she was -- she really took me under her wing, as she did all the children. But I just thought that was going to be something I would do, and even continue to think that when I was in the Air Force later on. I thought, as I was getting out of the Air Force, that I might become a Catholic priest. SY: Really? DZ: I thought so. I had the idea that I just wanted to do something extraordinary. And I thought maybe I would -- I talked to this priest when I was stationed in Torrejón Air Base 4 in Spain, in Madrid, Spain. And I told him that I wanted to become a priest. I thought I wanted -- I just wanted to talk to him about it. I wasn't 100 percent sure. And so, you know, we had these different chats from time to time, and then finally concluded that I could do priestly work because isn't everyone a priest? Isn't everyone a rabbi? Isn't everyone a minister? Can't you do that without having to wear the cloth and do that? So, he said, "You know, I think you'd be a wonderful father, and you would have that opportunity to do many things as well as help people." And so, it was a real cool experience. It wasn't a letdown. It was just, I think, a good part of my vision of doing things greater -- that I knew I didn't have to be one particular thing to do everything that I wanted to do. So -- SY: You're certainly doing pastoral work now. DZ: Well, you know, the interesting thing is, right after I got out of the Air Force, I had -- and I know you're probably going to -- I'm probably ahead of schedule here, but as far as -- SY: Chaos is my middle name. (laughter) Linearity? Whatever. DZ: OK. (laughter) Yeah, "so what if I have these questions that you're answering before I ask them?" SY: Oh, no, no, no. I write them down -- DZ: I'm teasing. SY: I never look at them. DZ: Yeah. SY: I just have them. DZ: Yeah, yeah, no that's good. SY: [For?] just in case. DZ: Good reference. SY: Yeah. DZ: But when I was finishing my last -- I was in the Air Force for four years. And when I finished my last -- the four years, last part of the four years, I was stationed in Torrejón Air Base in Spain, in Madrid, Spain. And I had already learned to meditate when I was in Tucson, Arizona, couple of years prior. And I got into some advanced courses, and I really enjoyed -- my friend and I started running, and then we started doing some camping, and we started watching what we were eating. And there was no -- there were very few guidelines at that time. We just started thinking about -- there has to be something to the quality of food that you put in your system, and how it helps your system perform. And, you know, kind of like the type of fuel or -- that you put in your vehicle. So, we thought we were just on the cutting edge, you know, with that thinking. And then, we would go camping and hiking, and we would just do the extreme stuff, like go -- we're going to go to the top of this mountain, we're going to camp out, and then we're going to come back. And this is what we do on the weekend when we're stationed in Tucson. And it was -- beautiful place to be. So, we would run together and [just?] that sort of thing. And one day, the -- there was an advertisement in the base activity center. And it said there's a yoga class. So, he said, "Let's go. Let's go check it out." So, this woman was talking about yoga and how it would benefit you. And we said, you know, why not? What do we have to lose? Nothing. So -- SY: Now, what year is this? What -- DZ: It was 1972. SY: OK, so this is the beginning or it -- 5 DZ: Yeah. SY: Yeah, OK. DZ: Nineteen seventy-two. Beginning of my four years. SY: [And you're?] -- DZ: Actually '71, I got in. But in '72, I was stationed in Tucson. SY: So, if you were in the Air Force, right -- DZ: Yes. SY: -- and yoga at this point is, like, firmly the bastion of, like, hippie stuff. DZ: Total hippie stuff, there's no question about it. SY: So, I'm having trouble picturing this guy in the Air Force being, like, "Sure, I'll go to yoga!" DZ: Well, it wasn't just "sure, I'll go to yoga." I said, "Let's check this out, you know, before we do that." And then she was talking about -- what caught our attention was she was talking about the benefits it had. And we were in that mode of how do we make our nervous systems function at a higher level? And so, we're running, and we got this runner's high. That's what the mode of, you know, the day was. You're going to get your runner's high, and we felt that. And then, we went hiking, and we would run up in the mountains in the higher levels and just say, you know, this is really cool. And all this healthy stuff. And we didn't drink and we didn't do pot. I've never smoked a cigarette in my life or even drank a cup of coffee. But I just thought there has to be some high and some way to get that inside of you. There has to be more inside than outside. What I see that grows out of the earth -- and people smoke pot and do all that sort -- that's good for them or whatever. They think that's good for them and that's their choice, no problem. But has to be the same or more inside. I have to be able to go inside and get to that place. Because when we would camp, we would look out and see the sky, and it would be -- and we'd see all these -- [well, you know?], in Flagstaff, Arizona, for example, we would look, and as far as -- I mean, it was just beautiful. And we would [say?] -- as far as we can see and then beyond what we can see still is space. So, it has to be the same thing inside. It has to be as far as we can go and beyond where we can go. It has to continually be space, so it has to be a reflection -- the outside has to be a reflection of the inside. And so, this woman started talking about yoga and "this position will create this flow in your circulation and will bring awareness and alertness to your mind," because she was talking to us in kind of a scientific way. And then we would start twisting around and doing things and -- you know, I didn't buy into all of it, for sure. It's a little too much. But we were doing that, and then -- we did that for about -- I don't know, about a month straight, and we would go to these classes three or four times a week. And we liked it. It was neat. And then, you know, lo and behold, here's this picture of Maharishi Mahesh Yogi in the community center on base. And it said there's a lecture on Transcendental Meditation. So, he said, "Hey, let's go to that one." I said, "Are you sure?" And he goes, "Yeah, let's go." I said, "All right, what do we have to lose? Let's go," right? So, we sat there. So, in comes this guy who was a Marine Corps veteran, and he had had two tours in Vietnam. And he sat down, and we -- there were about four of us, I think, that showed up. And, you know, introduced himself and was very casual, and start talking about meditation. And then he said, "My story is that I served two tours in Vietnam." So, that caught our attention. And he said, "When I got back, I knew there was something more. I was looking for something more." And he said, "So, I got back to Tucson, then I just 6 went to California. And I cruised around in the mountains, and I stayed on my own and I just kind of let this stress go out of my system. And then I start doing some thinking in this silence." And he said, "What I wanted to do was become a meditation teacher." So, he said, "When I came back to Tucson, I gathered my things and found out that there was a course in India where I could go and study with Maharishi Mahesh Yogi." He said, "So, I did it." So, he said, "When I went there" -- he said, "I had -- keep in mind, I hadn't listened to the radio, I hadn't watched TV, I haven't been in circulation in society for two or three years. So, I just went there to study. I was just going to be by myself and listen to this guy and then come back and teach people, because that's what I wanted to do." When he got there, he said there were people from -- international group. They were from all over the world. And so, he said Maharishi would come out and talk about meditation and different concepts of consciousness. And, in the evening, then he would retire. He would go into his room. And so, it was a young crowd, and they would hang out, kind of on the shore of the Ganges. And they would cook and, you know, associate with each other and sing and so on, so forth. So, he said there were these guys that were -- these four guys, and they had guitars. And they would sit around and they would make up poems and songs about people on the course. And one of the women on the course was named Prudence. And she was extremely shy. She was the sister of an actress, Mia Farrow. So -- and Mia was there. And so, he didn't know anybody. Keep that in mind. Just as innocent as you can imagine this so far. I know you're grinning and you know what's going on. So, anyway, Prudence, who I met a few years ago -- she's a marvelous human being and just a dear, dear person -- she would go to her room, because she was extremely shy. Extremely shy. And so, they kind of wanted the -- these guys kind of wanted to draw her out, so they made up a song. So, they went to her door and they knocked on her door, and they sing, "Dear Prudence, why don't you come out and play? Dear Prudence," yeah. And, you know, she didn't come out, and then eventually she did. And she would -- she was still very shy. And so, they were making up different songs about different situations. And so, they started to talk to my friend. And so, they called him G.I. Joe, because he had these fatigue pants on. And he didn't have his -- you know, he was -- you could wear your fatigue pants, just -- it didn't say Marine Corps, didn't say sergeant or anything like that. So, he had that. And he didn't really care how he looked, and he was just there for the knowledge. And so, they start making up a song about GI Joe. They called him GI Joe and that sort of thing and so, you know, hey, that was kind of cool, you know? So, anyway, he became a teacher. He came back from India. He was going to his first lecture and he turns on his radio in his little jalopy that he was driving, and what comes across the radio was, "Jojo was a man from Tucson, Arizona. He smoked some California grass. Get back, Jojo. Get back to where you once belonged." Get back to the USSR. And he said, "I've heard that song before." And someone said, "Yeah, those are the Beatles." He said, "Really?" And then he -- start telling stories about, you know, John Lennon. He said he had these multi-colored glasses on and he had, you know, long hair, and he used to wear these necklaces. And he was really bright, and how he would have conversations with Maharishi. And Paul McCartney, of course. And then Prudence later on was married, and she had a son and she named him Paul. And so, they're still really good friends. And he told stories about that. But it wasn't about them, the idea that he liked -- that he related to me that was intriguing is that this man had some knowledge. Maharishi had some knowledge to take 7 you within yourself. And it wasn't about him, it was just about the knowledge that he had received from previous masters, and he passed it on. And now, this guy could teach this information. And that was really intriguing to him. So, we started, and it was everything that it was cranked up to be. I'd started with no expectation. I thought -- same thing I did with yoga. Like, if this is going to work, it's going to work. I'll do exactly how they say to do it, and I'll get the results. So, we did. And my friend Scott Nichols and I started on the same day, and since that time I've been meditating regular, and I haven't missed one time since I started. I think it is everything that it's cranked up to be. And what inspired me to become a teacher was just the idea that I felt really good already. I didn't -- I wasn't in any dire straits to learn a technique that would pull me out of some stressful situation in my life. SY: So, you weren't -- you were seeking, but you weren't hungry. Doesn't -- DZ: Not [at?] -- well, you know, the thing is, I was hungry, but I wasn't desperate. SY: [Yeah?]. DZ: And I think I've always been a seeker of how to get better things in life. My own natural intensity pushes me to say I want to be the best I can be, I want every day to be the best day. What is this? You know, I want to see that. I don't want to get in dire straits to wait until I need something. What happens if you take it when you're already functioning, you know, fairly well? Can you get better? Can you get to the next level? And that's kind of the attitude I took with it. And when we began to meditate, it was just marvelous. I had better running times, I slept better. I performed better on tests. I had a lot more stamina. I was more organized. And, you know, it just opened up a whole new vision in my life. And I thought it was already really good. So, when I did that for a couple years, I thought when I got out, here's an opportunity to become a teacher. So, when I was in Spain, the Spanish TM [Transcendental Meditation] teacher in Madrid was a director of the Spanish organization, TM organization, and they were just going to start a teacher training course. And he said, "You'd be a fool to go back to the States. There's thousands of teachers, and everyone's taught everyone else, you know?" He said, "If you stay here, you can teach lots of people, because there's only going to be eight new teachers in the whole country." So, I love Spain, it was where I wanted to go since I was in fourth grade and drew a map of my favorite country other than United States. It was Spain. And I remember my father and I worked on this thing. We had glitter in the river and we had -- for the forest, we'd stopped up these little twigs. And it was on this big yellow piece of -- I can remember it clearly, and I was so excited. And then, when I got a chance to go there, it was marvelous. And I started to study Spanish on the base through the University of Maryland. I took five courses in a row for credit. And then I would just go downtown and practice. So, it came to me like riding a bike. I mean, it just -- it made sense to me. And I was in the country, and I would go down after class, and I would go to Madrid. And on the weekends, I would go to the train station and take a train to some little tiny pueblo someplace, just by myself to force myself to speak Spanish. And I would practice with the Spanish Air Force guys who shared the base with us, and go visit their families on weekends and stuff. And I went to the TM Center and did advanced courses. And I became pretty proficient in Spanish, so I became a teacher with the Spanish natives and did it all in Spanish. Eight months in the first two phases of a teacher training course. And [in the?] third phase, we went to [Avoriaz?], France, and studied with Maharishi, in person. So, I was their translator. And that's who made me a 8 teacher of TM. So, you kind of -- you follow exactly what he asks to do to make sure that the technique is done right. And it's effective, so it's not about you. It's about following what the masters did, and exactly in that same form. So, it was very, very challenging. But when I began to teach my first course, I went back to the base, Torrejón, and I taught 20 of my friends how to meditate, because they would -- they'd been wanting to meditate because they saw me meditate. And sometimes, they would just like to come in the room and sit quietly. And I didn't do anything. I don't sit in the lotus or go "om" or anything crazy. I just sit quietly in a chair, and that's really no big deal. So, that's how that began. So, I got a chance to travel around the country, and I taught about -- and then was lecturing in Spanish, of course. Probably taught about 900 people and -- for that whole year. And then, I came back to my hometown. And I was gone for about three years by that time. Hadn't seen my family in three years. And while I was sitting in the back of the -- on the back porch, my mother was ironing and -- you know, I was the only one -- the only sibling left in the house. Everyone else was married and out of the house. And my mother and father were there. So, this is my first time in my life I had a chance to be one on one with them. And it was marvelous, because I was certainly older then, and they didn't have all these other things going on. And, you know, my father was retired. And it was just one on one with my mother and father, like being an only child for a period of time. And it was glorious. I mean, my mother and father are just saintly. They're just magnificent human beings. I idolize them. The phone rings during a conversation. I pick up the phone, and there is a woman on the other end, and she asks me my name. "Are you Dave Zobeck?" "Yes." "Do you teach Transcendental Meditation?" "Yes." "Would you like to teach in the Colorado State Penitentiary, TM?" I said, "Yes." She said -- I said, "How did you get my name? I mean, I've only been home a week." She said, "I'll tell you later, so -- but tomorrow, I'm going to show up in front of your house. Give me your address. You're going to follow me to the penitentiary. We're going to talk to the warden at the maximum security penitentiary, and I'm going to try to convince him that we need this, because we have so much violence and we need something. And I'm sure this will work." "OK." So, we went down there, we talked to him. He put us on hold and he said, you know, "That sounds great." We hit it off right away. He was a Latino guy. He had a little Spanish accent, we begin to speak Spanish, he -- then, that kind of melted the barriers. And on the way back from the maximum -- oh, on the way out of the penitentiary or out of our meeting at the maximum security penitentiary, Tia, the guard, had to go to work. So, she was dressed in her uniform, of course. And she said -- she turned to me and she shook my hand. She said, "Good job, white boy." I said, "Great, there you go. That's good." And that was cool, I mean, you know? That was -- I had no problem with that. SY: No, you were in. DZ: I felt very comfortable with that, and I grew up in that kind of atmosphere. In the service, of course, same thing, and I loved it. And on the way home -- it was 50 miles away from my home in Pueblo. It was in Canyon City, and I stopped at the medium security penitentiary, just on a whim, and I thought I'm going to see if the program director's in. And so, I went down and I stopped at the guard shack, and I told them I had an appointment with the program director, which was a little on the untrue side. And he said, "Go right down and they'll help you out." So, I drove my vehicle down there and they patted me down and escorted me to the -- a bench outside of this office and said, 9 "You'll have to wait here. He has someone in his office." And so, I was waiting in my little coat and tie, and there was an inmate and he was swabbing the deck. He was cleaning, mopping up. And, of course, he's there with his number on one side and his last name on the other side. And he looks at me, and he says, "Hey, what are you doing? Are you a lawyer?" I said, "No, are you?" And he goes, "No." He goes, "I like that answer." He goes, "What are you doing, man?" I said, "Well, I'm here to see if the medium security personnel are open to the idea of a meditation class." He said, "What kind of meditation? Transcendental Meditation?" I said, "Yeah." He said, "Do you know George Ellis?" I said, "Yeah, I know George Ellis. George Ellis is a meditation teacher." He said, "How do you know George?" I said, "Two weeks ago, I met him in France." He said, "What'd you think?" I said, "I like George. He's a small guy, big ego." I said, "I like him." He goes, "Yep, that's George." He said, "Well, he taught me in Folsom Penitentiary. So, I do Transcendental Meditation." He said, "I'll tell you what. Here's what you do. You wait 'til you see Mr. Marshall, the programs director. When you come out, I'll have 20 of the toughest blomp-blomp-blomp-blomp-blomp guys here in the penitentiary, and we're going to start." I said, "Is that how it works?" He said, "That's how it works." I said, "OK." Sure enough, Mr. Marshall came to the door and he said, "I can see you now. Well, what are you here for?" So, I start talking to him. We had a marvelous talk. We talked about John Deere tractor, we talk about hunting deer. We talked about fishing, we talked about baseball. We talked about the stress he has in prison, his family. Yeah. And I said -- I was talking a little bit even about meditation. He said, "That sounds really interesting." He said, "I think I might like to try that." Well, he and I walked out. When we walk out, sure enough, 20 guys, inmates, are standing right in front of the door. And they already have their names signed up on a piece of paper. And they have Mr. Marshall's name as being the employee sponsor. So, they go, "Mr. Marshall? Here's what we're going to do." He said, "Now, boys, just a minute." Said, "We've got to check this out. This isn't how it works." And so, long story and fast forward, had it all checked out, and we did -- they didn't have any money, but they said, you know, "We're going to start." So, I said I would raise some money and we would get this done. So, I kind of went around the different TM centers around in Colorado and kind of [moved?] some money for sponsors. But I made the inmates pay $50. So, they were making 25 cents a day. But I said, "You're going to have to invest in it, because if you're [giving to it -- given it?], you may not do it." "Well, we don't have that kind of money." "Well, you'll find it." Now, what I did find out was, for marijuana in the penitentiary, if someone had three joints of marijuana in a matchbox -- that's what they call it, a matchbox -- it was $75. And someone would smuggle that in, and it would risk them getting a felony, and they would -- but it was worth it to them, so they did it. So, I said, in my first introductory lecture -- there were 75 inmates in this closed -- there were no windows in this closed room, and they could smoke at the time, of course. And I walk in and, you know, all the whistling began and all the catcalls and all the, you know, those kinds of things. And as they were talking, I finally -- it was too much noise, and I said, "Just a second. You know, I came here to talk about meditation. And those of you who are not interested, you have two options. You can go out this door or you can go out this door." Then it got very quiet. Course, there were a few other kinds of ways we said that in prison lingo. And they liked it, they clapped, it got very quiet. You could hear a pin drop. And afterwards, I told them what TM was, and whoever wanted to start, here's the 10 rules. And they clapped, and then we started our class. So, I taught TM for four years in the Colorado State Penitentiary. And the community sponsored -- you know, they would sponsor an inmate. And so, I didn't make any money. It wasn't a money-making thing, but I traveled back and forth from my hometown, which was 50 miles away, when I was -- I was enrolled as a student to finish my bachelor's degree with the GI Bill. And then I moved 167 miles away to go to grad school, and I would commute on the weekends down to the penitentiary. And then, you know, like, Friday, I would go -- drive down to the penitentiary. I'd work till 9:00, I'd go and stay at my mother and father's house, 50 miles away. Then I'd come back that Saturday morning, spend the entire day there from 8:00 to 8:00. Go back Saturday night, come back to the penitentiary Sunday morning and work till noon and then drive back to grad school. And it was a joy, what I learned. All the things I learned while I was there, because I was not a guard. I was not part of the system. They took me under their wing. They told me how all the crimes happened. (laughs) They educated me. And I felt that that was a real intriguing place to be. They were teaching me. And I wasn't, like, taking them into my homes or, you know, they were going to come and stay with me when I got -- it wasn't that sort of thing. It was just, like, "Here's what I do. And then, if you do this, you maybe have a better chance with a clear mind to not return, because your thinking will be different." But I didn't tell them how to live their lives or to behave, because that doesn't work after they've done 20 years and stuff. So, it was definitely a group of the alpha dogs in the penitentiary that were the heavyweights. And the violence level started to be reduced by a lot, because at one point I had 50 out of 500 meditating. And when the guys would meditate during the day -- they had to be locked down three times a day so they could be counted to make sure that everyone's there. So, three times a day, they had to go back to the cell and lock down, and the guard would go by the cell and count every single one of them. Well, during the count, it was about 30 minutes. So, the guys decided to meditate during that 30 minutes. Well, traditionally, it's really loud, because the guys have a chance just to yell and scream, and there's nothing they could -- what are they going to do, put them in prison? (laughs) So -- and these guys would meditate, and they were the heavyweights. Pretty soon, they start telling everybody, "When we do count, you shut up." (laughs) So, it started getting real quiet in all the different cell blocks. So, the guards were going, "Wait a minute, something is really unusual. What's happening? Because there's a change in these guys." So, every day, I would come in and I'd be in my little sport coat, and I would -- they would call the -- Mr. Zobeck's meditation class in the psychology room. And the guys would come in and I'd say, "Hey, how you doing?" Blah-blah-blah. So, at one point, the captain -- one of the captains came to me and said, "Get in my office," in a real stern tone. You know, right in front of the inmates. And the inmates went, "Oooh!" You know, like, "Uh-oh!" SY: "He's in trouble!" DZ: Yeah, exactly, you know? So, I went in the office and I sat down. And there was another inmate by his side, and he was talking to me in a very stern voice and it was kind of puzzling in the beginning, of course. And he said, "Do you" -- he said, "Young man, do you know that it's a felony to bring cocaine in a state penitentiary?" I said, "Sounds good to me. That sounds about right. Yeah, I do. That sounds -- yeah." I, like -- and then he said, "Well, you could be doing time with the rest of these guys, just like the guys you're trying to help and -- if you don't watch your step." And I said, "Whoa, whoa, whoa." 11 Then it occurred to me, I said, "You're talking about me bringing in cocaine? Oh." I said, "Captain, let me just give you a quick bio. I've never had a cigarette in my life. I don't drink. I've never had a cup of coffee. If you want to get your sniff dog and take him in my vehicle right now, I'll sign release papers. You could do a strip search, I'll give you a urine sample, a blood sample, whatever you would like to do. And, you know, we could do that in front of the inmates. I'll do whatever -- just so the evidence is clear. And if you don't find anything, I'll teach you meditation, because you're really stressed out. But good things are happening. (laughter) You know, when violence level goes down, that's actually a good thing." So, after that, when the -- when we were there for about a year, the in-- SY: Wait, wait, but so how did that resolve? That whole cocaine thing, how did that rumor start? DZ: He just -- it started because, you know, they -- the only reason that they would see that there were inmates being calm was when there were some drugs in the facility. SY: Of course, cocaine would not be a drug that would calm them down. (laughs) DZ: Well, but you know what? When they're maniacal -- if they're addicts, that would be a nice little fix. And there were several addicts in there. So, when they're coked up, they're a little bit different than when they're -- yeah. SY: So, he thought you were bringing in drugs because -- DZ: Yes, because I -- SY: -- the change in behavior was so dramatic. DZ: Yeah, and I was always happy. And that -- so, he knew that I had to be coked up, on coke, because I was always happy. And so, anyway -- but I saw a connection. The inmate that was sitting next to him was a convicted sex offender. I didn't know that at the time. And I didn't know the social aspects of the prison and sex offenders. What happened was, he came to learn TM. And I said, "Yeah, you could learn." But the inmates in the class told him, "Uh-uh. You're not coming with us, because if you sit with us, then that means we approve of who you are, and that ain't happening." So, I didn't realize that dynamic had transpired. And so, he was trying to upset the applecart and get this kicked out totally by putting this "I use cocaine" thing on me. And they would kick me out, and there goes the program and he'd get some revenge. SY: Right. DZ: So, I figured that out later on, and that aspect came to me. But, at any rate -- and then, after that, many guards saw what was happening, and they would come to me individually, like, privately and look around to see if there was anybody looking at us talking and say, "Here's my number. Call me at home." And I would call them at home, and said, "I want to start." So, I would drive to their homes, talk to them, their wives, and their kids and teach them. And then they said, "What we want is privacy, that you don't tell anyone, because if the guards -- other guards see us, then we're associating with an inmate program. If inmates see us, then, you know, we're -- it's a pretty negative situation." And so, at any rate -- and after -- of course, after four years -- and I was in grad school, then I was married, and I just couldn't continue. It was too long a deal. So, we had a very positive parting. But it was a wonderful experience, and it worked. The only thing I regret is I didn't keep real good -- great tabs on all the changes that occurred. I wasn't into the research end of it, and I regret that but -- 12 SY: Yeah. Any -- do you have any anecdotes of, like, transformations that happened with individual -- did you keep in touch with any of the inmates or -- DZ: They all kept in touch with me. I still have -- at one point, one of the most positive things, I think, is that -- well, I had one of the guys that was in there -- and he finished 20 years. He was in there for murder. And that's not good, and I'm not condoning any crime that any of these guys -- they're all wrong and they all -- SY: Yeah, of course. DZ: -- earned -- SY: Yeah. DZ: -- and earned the -- SY: Yeah, yeah. DZ: -- earned their time in prison. He got out and he spent one whole year in a monastery, on his parole. And the Jesuit brothers in Granby, Colorado, in a monastery, took him in, and he was in silence for a whole year. And he really enjoyed that, and it really made a huge difference. I keep in touch with him. Another one of the inmates who graduated, I -- got out and then finished the course. Became, like, an agent for a few professional athletes, some professional musicians. There's one right now who -- well, I'll tell you a personal connection, it was interesting. One of the guys got out, and he was from the city -- he grew up in the city in Colorado that I went to grad school in. It was Greeley, Colorado, at the University of Northern Colorado. And he said, "I understand" -- he said, "You said you're going to go to grad school in Greeley." I said, "Yeah." He said, "Could you look up my dad?" "Sure." So, he gave me the address, didn't tell me any story about his dad or anything. Didn't tell me anything about his father. I knock on the door, Mr. Smith comes to the door. I introduce myself, I said, "Hi, my name is Dave Zobeck, I teach meditation at the prison, and I met your son, Ted in the prison." And so, he starts cursing his son. "Ah," you know, he goes, "he's the cause of my divorce, because of his drugs and all that stuff. I hope he rots in hell," you know? And, OK, well, I said, "Well, I didn't know that part of it." I said, "So, like, you know, step away from the shotgun. I'm going to go back to my car," you know? Then he goes -- then he says, "Well," he said, "that's not your fault." Said, "Well, come on in." And fast forward, we became good friends. And he was an older guy, he just needed somebody to talk to. When I got back to the prison, I got in touch with Mr. Ted Smith and I said, "You got to tell me the whole story next time. You didn't tell me that." He said, "Yeah." I said, "Well, put your father on your visiting list, and I want him to come and talk to you. And I'm going to try to convince him to -- and he wants to talk to you. And you've got to drop that, you just have to talk to him." And so, anyway, they did. So, after I finished the four years -- and so, that went really well. But Mr. Smith would come and visit me a lot. I mean, sometimes uninvited. And I needed to study and he would just knock on the door and he would sit down, and he'd want to tell me his life story. And so -- and, you know, I accommodated most of the time, and sometimes I just couldn't do it. But I hadn't seen him for about two weeks. And in the meantime, I got a job at the Sheriff's Department in Greeley, Colorado. The Weld County Sheriff's Department. And I was a counselor in the jail, running this rehab program. I was sitting in my office, the phone rings. And this is when I was finished teaching TM in the prison. The phone rings, and it's Ted, the inmate who introduced me to his father. And we start talking. "How you doing?" "Good, I have a job, everything's going well." He said, "But my dad died." And I hadn't seen him in two 13 weeks. He said, "It was just sudden. He died and we're having the funeral. Would you and your wife come to the funeral?" I said, "Of course we will," you know? And he said, "I just need some support [there?]. I don't have any family." "Of course." So, you know, my wife and I went to the funeral, and then we had him over for dinner, because he wasn't any threat to us. I mean, he wasn't, like, you know. So, anyway, we had him to dinner. So, during dinner, he said, "My father really liked you, and he really appreciated you did all that work for free." He said, "He wanted you to have the house." I said, "Now, wait a minute. Time out. Have the house? I'm not going to have the house." He goes, "Well, we'll make it good for you," because he said, "I shouldn't have the house," because his drug guys would move in and he would just -- and it's a mess for him, and he was about 100 miles away. And he said, "I'd just rather have the money and move on. I'm ready to move on." So, he gave us, like -- it was just incredibly inexpensive. So, he said, "For your hard work in the prison for four years, this is your reward." So, we -- I've got the G.I. Bill, bought this house, and it was our first little house. And, you know, we raised our first little girl in it for a few years, and then we moved to another one and we used that as a rental house. But that was probably the most powerful anecdote that -- but some of the guys were -- I've lost track. You know, several of them, I know, had died. And, you know, it's not unusual that someone who's been in prison awhile has the stress factor along with them. But I didn't see, you know -- and some (inaudible) [00:45:22] I'm sure reoffended. I didn't keep that close track. But it was a marvelous experience. And, yeah, it introduced me to the field that I stayed in, the criminal justice field. I got interested in that. SY: OK, so -- DZ: I liked the adrenalin flow. SY: -- what was your master's in? DZ: My master's was in psychology, agency counseling. So, I did a lot of rehab work in the jails after that and ran a halfway house and that sort of thing, so -- and as a probation officer, when I was a probation officer, I did a lot of one-on-one kind of therapeutic kinds of things, and interventions in the community and that sort of thing. So, I really -- growing up in the neighborhood where I was, working in the penitentiary, and then getting that exposure and then applying that life experience to a career was a real blessing, you know? So, yeah, and I didn't teach TM when I was a probation officer, because that was a conflict of interest. I just recently started teaching since I've been here at Norwich. SY: So, I have a couple questions. DZ: OK. SY: First of all, do you know about Vermont's whole restorative justice model? DZ: Yes. SY: Yeah. DZ: Yes. SY: I was on a reparative board for awhile. It's pretty amazing. DZ: Yeah. I was certified as a trainer for restorative justice. SY: Oh, you were? DZ: Yes. SY: Yeah. 14 DZ: And Vermont had a prison here, and years ago, they had a TM program in the prison. And a woman by the name of Susan Gore, of Gore-Tex, who's from Vermont, had this project going and -- about the same time I was doing my project in Colorado. SY: Interesting. DZ: Yeah. SY: Doesn't exist anymore, does it? DZ: It doesn't what? SY: It doesn't exist anymore, does it? DZ: No. No, no. No. SY: So, that was one question I had to ask. And then, I'm just thinking about all these stories, and I'm thinking that you're in this unique position, right, where you can bridge these two worlds, right? So, I would imagine that you're different than most people teaching TM, certainly in the '70s, right? DZ: Yeah, absolutely. Absolutely. SY: And, you know, you're this guy who was in the service, right? So, you can, like, walk, you can be, like, respected for having this particular type of authority, right? You can tell them to take it or leave it -- DZ: Right, right, right. SY: -- in whatever crude terms you need to. DZ: Right, right, right. SY: Right? And have that sort of, like, gravitas, right? And then you're also able to teach TM. So, I -- is that something you've thought about? Like, how you sort of intersect these worlds? DZ: No, I just -- you know, I taught TM because that was the most wonderful opportunity I had at the present, and I got really into it. And then, when I came back to the states, what I was going to do was get my degree and possibly go back to Europe. And then, this project came along. And then, of course, in grad school I met my wife. And, you know, life happened in that regard. So, the next page in the next chapter was, you know, I have an opportunity to actually work in this field. And I had this previous kind of experience prior to that, and it wasn't for pay. But it was really on the front line, and the prison experience was real. I mean, there was a guy who was -- there was a lot of things that happened in the penitentiary, you know? Like murders and that sort of thing, and just being exposed to that. And I liked the adrenaline rush. I liked that there was an excitement and you had to be on your toes all the time. You had to be alert, and how to handle that, knowing that in a penitentiary, you're outnumbered if you're a guard. So, your best weapon is your mouth, and you could either get in trouble with it or you can calm people down. Because the inmates -- you live at the mercy of the inmates when there's 500 inmates. There's -- they don't walk around -- the guards don't walk around the penitentiary with guns for good reason, because somebody's going to take it away. So, it was kind of an idea of learning how -- it was -- it reminded me of a -- and I've never done this, but it was kind of like maybe being in the jungle, learning how to pet the lions, and still have all your fingers. These guys could kill me anytime. I mean, they were all -- and there was 20 of them. And out of the 20, 12 of them had been convicted of murder. And, you know, they weren't rehabilitated. But I have to give this one little story. So, what I do is I'd -- the first day with everyone that is taught, they learn with a teacher, one-on-one. They get the instruction. So, they receive a mantra, they receive the technique 15 how to use it properly, and then they meditate. They get it the first day, so you don't have to be a black belt in TM. You get -- you learn it right away. It's so simple, 10-year-olds learn. So, it's an effortless technique, which makes it really effective. You know, and it's certainly not a concentration technique or a contemplation technique and -- concentration takes a lot of effort and focus and mental activity, so it usually stays on a surface level. And contemplation is kind of -- you ask your mind to imagine a situation that -- you work yourself to get images or a value, like kindness or whatever it is, and imagine yourself in, for example, Costa Rica when you're actually in Vermont. But this is supposed to give you this relaxed feeling. Or imagine yourself, you know, the kindest person you can ever be. But it's thinking, and as long as you're thinking, you're on a surface level. So, TM is a little different than either one of those. It takes advantage of what's called the natural tendency of the mind. It sounds like a lot of woo-woo, but what it means is that if, you know, you and I are talking -- and I don't know what your favorite music is. What is your favorite music, type of music? SY: It's usually folk music of some variety. DZ: OK, so as you and I are talking, if one of your favorite tunes floats through the door, where would you imagine your attention might -- [yeah?]. SY: Sure, yeah. DZ: To the music. So, it's more charming. It's something more charming. So, what happens is that, in TM, when we -- when I teach a person to meditate, the natural tendency of the mind is to go to quieter levels of the mind where there -- it is more charming. There's more quietness, more silence. Now, how do you get there? So, the first day, I teach you a mantra, which is a word that has no meaning. Some mantras do mean -- there's thousands of mantras all over the world. Probably millions, I don't know. But the mantras that are used by TM are sound that has no meaning whatsoever. And sounds have certain effects on your nervous system. So, it's a soothing sound and I choose that for each person. Some people could have the same mantra, doesn't matter. But the technique, how to use it properly, is the other half of that knowledge. So, I teach that the first day. And by this soothing sound, and when it's used correctly, that directs the tension to finer levels of thinking and quieter levels of the mind, to a point where, you know, there is nothing but silence. And silence is different than quietness. Silence is -- in silence, there's no thought. So, the idea of Transcendental Meditation -- meditation being some form of thinking or prayer, and transcending going beyond that. So, you go beyond the level of thought to where there's silence. And that part is in every nervous system of every human being. So, transcending is that experience of silence. And so, 600 studies later -- show that, you know, the prefrontal cortex and all areas of the brain are affected in a real positive way. So, it creates a situation where there's -- it's called restful alertness. So, the restfulness is that -- it's a mental technique, but there's deep physical relaxation. So, the heart rate is reduced, the breath rate, the pulse rate. Even cortisol, which is a chemical in the body that measures stress is reduced almost to nothing. So, the physical part is there. But on the mental part, there's some awareness. So, it's not sleep, it's not dreaming, it's not being awake, it's not -- it's neither of those states of consciousness, but it's this pure awareness. So, when someone experiences this several times during a 20 minute period of meditation, which is the length of time that people meditate twice daily -- that that prefrontal cortex and all areas of the brain are affected positively, and there is some coherence in the brain. So, there is awareness. 16 There's alertness. And so, when you experience that and you finish, then you're refreshed. So, it reaches the level that's deeper than that of sleep. But it's not sleep, because sleep is measurable and your brain behaves a certain way during sleep. And the EEG that measures -- that does this research doesn't lie, doesn't make anything up. It says, hey, this is a different state of consciousness. So, we can tell when a person's sleeping by the function of the brainwaves. Then, when they begin to dream, there's some rapid eye movement, and you can tell there's a different function. I'm not being incredibly scientific, just -- right, just general. And when we're awake, like right now, there's a different -- so, scientists in another room looking at this screen could say that Sarah and Dave are sleeping, dreaming, and awake. And then, when we meditate, they're saying something different is happening. So, it's a fourth state of consciousness. So, being able to actually teach that to someone, knowing that it goes to what is a natural place in their own being, in their own mind and their own physiology, which is silent, and they get these deep results -- and when they come out and they're more alert and more relaxed, they're probably going to have better behavior. They're probably going to be more efficient in their activity. They're probably going to be more effective. So, when the violence level went down in the prison, it wasn't because Dave Zobeck said, "Be good." It was because we have 50 out of 500, and they're having more brain coherence, because every decision comes from the brain. It just made common sense to me that I didn't have to spew anything. I didn't have to tell them, "Eat -- be a vegetarian, think of Maharishi all day long. Quit your religion." Because that was convincing to me. I was Catholic, I didn't have to abandon my religion. I didn't have to become a vegetarian, because I'm not. I didn't have to walk around with a picture of Maharishi on me and think Maharishi thoughts, which -- and I met him. He's a marvelous human being. A marvelous human being. Incredible. I mean, he's a Hindu monk and I'm not. You know, I'm okay with that and it's not a big deal. So, to bring that knowledge into this field, knowing that in the field of corrections, with inmates and employees that work in that field, that -- high stress rates -- that police officers and people in law enforcement, corrections, they don't live to normal life expectancy because of stress. Not because of the bad guy. And then military, same thing. I mean, when -- sadly enough, when we have 13 -- minimum of 13 suicides per day, I find that -- I'm extremely patriotic, and these are our men and women, and these are people's -- course, now they're children -- that I have been with, and even if they're not -- that I don't know them, they're related and I understand that stress. I've never been in combat, so I don't understand that stress. But I tire of seeing our beautiful flag folded into a triangle and presented to a grieving family because the effects of their duty drove them to that place that they thought was better than living. And what am I going to do about it? I mean, you can only cry for so long. I want to do something about it. So, I think that this is a tool that may have an effect on that. And if someone can do that -- and I taught on this campus, I've taught a number of veterans that were -- have done a number of tours in different wars. And the results are phenomenal. And it is such a privilege for me to do that, it's such an honor for me to do that, to share that. So, to be here at Norwich is just -- this is -- SY: So, yeah, so how did you get -- DZ: -- ideal. SY: -- pulled back into this work? 17 DZ: Well, I retired from my work early, and I put in 28 years in the field. But I decided that I wanted to teach TM again. In order to do that, I had to do a recertification course, and I went to this recertification course and I met this guy there. He said, "I work for the David Lynch Foundation and I'd like you to work for me." I had no idea what that was. I said, "Oh, okay, that sounds good." And, you know, no big deal. And so, he contacted me later on and said, "You have a chance to go to Norwich and teach TM." And I thought that was England. I was all excited. I thought, cool, we're going to England. Break out -- "Hello." Break out the passport. (laughter) So, I came here, and the first day that I came -- it was kind of, like, an incredibly snowy day like today. I went to a meeting in the Plumley Armory, and I walked into the Nicholson Room and there were nine vets sitting around this table. And I had my little coat and tie on, of course, which is kind of the uniform of the day for TM teachers. That's what -- Maharishi would like people to look professional, so I did. And I had Peg Meyer and Shelby [Gile?] and the veterans, and they started introducing themselves around the table. And this man said his name, and he said that he had done some tours and gone through some troubled times. And so, I looked him in the eye across the table and I said, "Welcome home, brother." And he started to cry. And I got up and I went around the table. And he stood up and I gave him a big hug, and he was just crying. And I just said, "Welcome home." And he sat down, and we continued. And the woman next to me whispered -- she said, "Did you know him?" I said, "I've never seen him before in my life." And so, then we had a chance -- after that meeting, we told them about TM, and they were -- they could start. They didn't have to pay anything. Going to make an exception, because we had an agreement between our agency and Norwich. And then, I went and talked to the student body. I mean, there were about 200 [core or Corps?] members, and we got a group and we started the first study. I wasn't the researcher, but the researchers did -- took some measures before and after. And then, the results were great. Doctor -- or President Schneider got up in front of the students that were there and he said, you know, "Ladies and gentlemen, you have the opportunity to learn this." He said, "It's everything that they say it is. There's no obligation, and you can volunteer if you like. If you don't, that's okay." He said, "But I've checked it out. I've looked at the research," and he said, "that's the only thing that convinced me." He said, "Then I started it, and since I've been doing it, it's wonderful." You know? Not exactly his word, but that he started -- SY: So, the TM with people returning with PTS makes a lot of sense to me. And the TM with platoons beforehand also makes sense, but can? -- I feel like there's this elemental contradiction, right, which is no matter how resilient people are, in war they're going to be forced to see and do things that damage the psyche, right? DZ: Sure, sure. SY: So, I guess, how do you think about that? And how can -- do you believe that TM can, to some degree, change the nature of conflicts? DZ: Well, a couple of things. You know, it only works if you do it. And if a person's in a conflict -- I mean, I understand from a practical sense they're not going to call time out and go, "I got to meditate." But there are going to be some down times. There's going to be conflict that's going to cause that damage no matter what. If you do TM, you don't -- yeah, do TM. What do you do about it when you have it? And this is something that I like in this regard, because they could do it by themselves, and it's an extra tool. If they want to talk to a psychologist, that's great. If they want to take some medication, that's 18 great. Whatever. They can do this by themselves. The veterans that I taught said, "I wish I would have had this when I was in combat, because there were times when I was just losing my mind and I didn't know what to do. And I had time on my hands. I wish I could've sat down and done this." So, in a practical sense, we're giving them tools to use when they can -- if they're in a conflict or if they're not actively doing anything, they have some downtime, to relieve that stress, to maybe -- we don't have any data yet that says TM prevents PTS. I would never say that. Maybe lessen the effects, or even when they get back they have a tool immediately to use. Because what we know is that alcohol, drugs, you know, the different behaviors that break out -- violence, you know, it's fight or flight kind of time when someone has post-traumatic stress. They -- you lash out or they'll walk away from things, and they're not the same person when they return, because what's happened is the brain is damaged. So, the hope is that we can give them this tool to maybe get them strong before they get into the conflict. And if they're kind of doing this workout for the brain, being more flexible to stress that's incoming, they won't react as badly or as poorly as they did if they didn't have the tool. So, what we're doing is -- it's kind of like that analogy of, you know, there's this crack team that rescues people jumping in the river, and they're going down the tubes. And they can pull out every single guy in the river, and every single woman in the river. They can -- they're really good at it. Then someone gets the wise idea and says, "Why don't we catch them where they're jumping in? You know, we can prevent something." So, this is a preventative program. So, we get the vets that have -- coming back, they're on campus. We also get those who are going to be commissioned and go into the service. And I have, you know, over -- probably about 100, and I get text messages from several of them that say, "I meditated before I flew today. I was clear as a bell." Or, "I finished Army Ranger training, and if not -- but for TM, I wouldn't have made it." And so, I see that there's some results. And, you know, I'm not a meditation cop. I don't make them do it. I give them the tool, and that's what the president said. We're going to give them a tool that is proven and see if that makes the difference. SY: No, that's very interesting. So, OK, so Norwich is founded on this idea of the citizen soldier, right? DZ: Mm-hmm. SY: And I think that means a lot of different things to a lot of different people, right? But part of it that I find compelling is the idea that you're creating soldiers who are thinkers, right? Who are -- they follow orders, but they also to some degree come to their own conclusions, right? So, I'm wondering if you feel like TM can create better, more ethical warriors, if it has a moral effect, perhaps, in some way? DZ: Well, I mean, if -- the idea that -- that's a good question. The idea is that -- I think a person's morals don't necessarily come from meditation. But I think when a person has a clearer mind, they make less mistakes, and they're probably apt to err on the positive. So, you know, wouldn't it be nice if we were talking about, ideally, a situation where one of these young men or women become a general and they're big decision makers, and it comes down to doing that -- [make?] a decision to -- is this war -- is it -- are there other alternatives? That clear mind would make the very best decision that that person could possibly make to benefit the most people around them. Of course, that's the hope of every time, so -- but there's no -- I think when people begin to meditate, the hope is -- I had one of my -- so, one of the guys who's a soldier now, he said, "I want you to teach all 19 of my platoon, because we're going to be more in touch with each other, and we're going to be more effective." And, you know, the hope is someday there will not be any wars. How -- you're talking about ethical with regard to during a war, ethical with regard to preventing war, or in what regard are you thinking about? SY: All of the above. DZ: I see. SY: All of the above. I mean, so, yes, so ethical in terms of preventing a war, if it could be prevented. But also, I'm just thinking about -- you know, we've had some unfortunate situations in the past decade of -- you know, that are coming to light more and more, like soldiers -- you know, I mean, I think of Abu Ghraib. I think of other situations like that, and I wonder if a practice like this could help a soldier in a sort of context like that. Be, like, "Yeah, I'm not doing that." DZ: Right. SY: Or, "I'm going to blow the whistle on that." Or, "That doesn't" -- do you know what I'm saying? DZ: Yeah, yeah, OK. That's a good direction. One of the things that I would submit that -- I don't have evidence in every single case, but I would submit that those types of decisions are made from a stressed mind. And same thing with crime. I mean, look at the example in prison. When these guys are doing that, none of them -- they rarely if ever got written up for any violations. And it's not because those rules were not there at all, they didn't understand the rules. It was because their reasoning was influenced by the amount of stress that they had. So, I would guess that when -- the people who did that in Abu Ghraib, and it wasn't every single one of them -- made that decision. That's not a relaxed place. That's an incredibly stressed place. And I would guess that those decisions come from stressed minds. So, I think that what could happen -- if I had the magic wand, I would teach every one of those guys. And, you know, there would be a difference in the -- a physiological change. And again, it sounds very ideal. But break out the EEG machine. And that doesn't measure left-wing granola conspiracies. That measures how the human brain functions in each individual. And when done correctly, there is a positive effect. And I would say that would be where the influence would go. And I see the same thing with, you know, stressed cops, stressed whatever. When I was on the street as a probation officer and we'd chasing the bad guys, I'd come home and there'd be all sorts of stress, of course. But I would meditate, and then I wouldn't bring that stress into my house, you know? And I think that that's the hope. So, I think it's a tool that is -- needs to be looked at, because scientifically it's proven. So, I do think it would have an influence in that regard. Do I think it would have been perfect and no violation? I'm not saying that. I'm saying does it make a difference if they would do it? I think it would increase the chances of positive behavior by a long shot. That's my opinion, absolutely. And so, if you look at that and you look at the idea of where wars come from -- I mean, people making decisions to go to war -- I don't think that's a relaxed nervous system. SY: No, and people that -- DZ: On either side. SY: Right. When people feel like caged animals, they act like caged animals, right? DZ: They're going to lash out, I would guess. I mean, in some cases. And rare -- and bless the guy who doesn't or the woman who doesn't, but it's rare. But I think that -- you know, the same thing -- well, anyway, so that's my opinion on that one. 20 SY: So, one last question -- DZ: Sure. SY: -- because I know I'm getting tired, mostly because these fluorescent lights are awful. Do you have this (inaudible) [01:09:52] (laughs) DZ: They're terrible, aren't they? SY: They're just the worst. DZ: Bam. SY: Ah, thank you! DZ: See? SY: Feel much better. DZ: See, now we're relaxed. SY: Look at that. DZ: We're roaming out. SY: Look at that. DZ: Come on. SY: Things changed. DZ: I mean, come on, hello. SY: Woo! It was, like, my eyes -- DZ: (laughs) Bzzz! SY: -- were like dilating in and out. (laughter) And I was, like, am I here? What's going on? DZ: Who am I? What am I? SY: So yeah. So, actually, I was talking to Sarah Henrich before and I was like, "What do you want to ask Dave Zobeck? What do you want to know?" And she said, "What's your big picture vision?" You could – if you were running the show, you were, you know, I don't know, leader of the world, right? What would you do in terms of TM? DZ: Of the world or for Norwich? The world -- SY: Or of Norwich or -- DZ: Well, here's the deal. I think -- what I think I would do -- I mean, in the world sense at it boils down to Norwich as well. I think you need to get it in the education system. I think this needs to be a class that's offered for credit, that this is -- that you can do maybe some measurements before you get in the class, and at the end of the semester, after X amount of meditations, you can do that. And I think every class would begin with meditation and then follow with some knowledge about development of consciousness, changes in brains, that -- some real scientific kinds of things. And that should be a part of every person's curriculum. I think it belongs in the curriculum. I think this tool belongs with civilians, it belongs to Corps people, it belongs to administrators -- and I have taught a number of administrators here that swear by it. So, if it works, let's do it. So, we have to have this type of knowledge of other subject matters. And I've taught that. I've taught sociology and psychology and that sort of thing and it was -- it's marvelous. You have to have that. It's a good, good bit of information. But the knowledge of the self is so powerful and timeless. These books are outdated five years after I teach the subject matter. Development of consciousness and going within never is outdated as long as you're alive. And that is eternal knowledge. And that's the difference in my satisfaction of teaching TM and teaching these other subjects. I love teaching. When I teach someone how to go and experience and that -- to find this place in their own nervous system -- and then, when they're finished, they feel better and their affect is more positive 21 on other people, because it's good to be around people that are very positive. And they're going to be the decision makers of the future. It's way too common-sensical to do. It makes sense, and there's no -- I don't understand a reason not to. And so, that's what I think the ideal situation -- there are school systems in California, entire school systems that use it. They call it quiet time. They start their day -- the entire school, with the teachers -- they have a bell that rings over the PA system. They start their day with 10 minutes of meditation, they go about their business. At the end, at three o'clock when they're finished, the entire school system sits down, including the teachers. They do 10 minutes of meditation. No violence in the hall, no afterschool violence. They've saved San Francisco millions of dollars -- SY: Of course it's San Francisco. DZ: -- because of shootings and so on and so forth. And the kids are progressing for the first time through middle school, high school, and they're going on to college. The data is there. There's no -- there's nothing -- and they're still Protestants, they're still Jews, they're still Catholics, they're -- they haven't changed. They're still meat eaters. They're citizens that understand how they can contribute better as a citizen to their country, to their city, their community when they're using more of their full potential. This is the tool, and it's proven. And I think it -- you know, move the obstacles out of the way, get to what works. And the sooner we do that, I think we can see results all over the place. Even in cities where there are crime rates and there's X amount of people who are doing TM, there's a difference in the crime level. So, you know, I think it's a tool. So, I think, to answer, you know, that question is -- very directly is put it in the school system. Without a doubt, it should be taught like any other subject matter. The knowledge of self is as important as the knowledge of other topics. And so, I would recommend that. And I'm hoping, eventually down the road at Norwich, it does get in the curriculum somehow, some way, you know? SY: Actually, when I was teaching middle school, we had something -- it wasn't TM, but it was sort of a mindfulness chunk of the week. DZ: Yeah. SY: It was -- it didn't quite work, I think because it was, like, a group activity, right? It wasn't something that, like -- I think with middle school girls in particular -- it was an all-girls school -- they need to close their eyes to, like, step out of the social context in order to be able to access themselves. But when there were -- it was more sort of, like, movement based and they could still see each other, they, like, weren't able to get rid of their self-consciousness. DZ: And to go inside. SY: And to go inside, yeah. DZ: Well, you know, every technique has their own benefits, and I'm not going to knock that. But this is a -- again, if you're going to anyone -- any institution's going to invest money, go to something that's proven. I mean, 600 studies later, and no one's fighting that they're bad studies. There's not one. SY: Do you think that if you hadn't -- if that Marine hadn't come and spoken at that -- at your Air Force base that you would have discovered TM? Or do you think your life would have taken another trajectory? DZ: I think probably -- I think people are on a path to probably discover what they discover. He was just the -- he was the person who -- like, I would -- with some others that just was 22 -- delivered the package that day that I had asked for in some way, shape, or form. I was always looking -- SY: And you were ready for it. DZ: Yeah, I -- and in kind of, like, that Chinese thing when the student is ready, the teacher appears. SY: Right, right, right, you're -- DZ: And I think I was -- we were doing other kinds of things and that came along, and that was just -- that was another thing. But it was the coup de grace. I mean, it made my exercise better, you know, my sleep better and my studies better. So, I saw the benefit immediately, and there's no reason to stop, so I haven't. And so far, there's some tremendous results here at Norwich, and the students like it. And, you know, there's some support. And it'll go as long as it's supposed to, you know? So -- SY: It also seems like, at Norwich, it's also to some degree changed the culture between the cadre and the rooks, right? And I know that people talked about less yelling and, like, a sort of, like, different relationship between -- a kinder relationship, potentially. DZ: Well, the thing is, the first two years when we had the group study that was done at Alumni Hall, we had one platoon that was, you know, taught, and their cadre. And they would meditate together for the first two years. Different platoons, of course. And then we had the control group that didn't learn and then finally learned in the spring when they got recognized. So, we had that -- so, in that specific platoon, they didn't need to yell because these men and women, young men and women, were alert enough the first time around. And they, you know, were less stressed, and they could respond right away. So then, the cadre didn't have to yell, because they got it right the first time. And I know the cadre personally, and they yelled. I mean, it's part of the culture. But it was really good. Now the group is different, because it's opened up to the general population. So, some of the rooks are meditating and they're meditating in the room, but their cadre don't and their other roommate doesn't. Or it's a smattering of -- you know, I taught 116 people last semester, and not all of them were rooks. So, there's still the culture of yelling and screaming, of course. But I think, you know, we've opened it up to the public this time around. But in that regard, when you have everybody with a clearer mind and you have a group of people with a clear mind -- in fact, they sit down and get a clear mind before they start their day and go forward. TM is a preparation for activity. With a clear mind, your activity's going to be more efficient. It's real simple. So, that's how it -- work, and I think Norwich is on the cutting edge of all of this, because they're the first academy to move forward with all this. SY: It's pretty exciting. DZ: It is. I think it's great. SY: It really is. DZ: Yeah. SY: So, OK, any last thoughts? DZ: No, I think it's good. SY: I still want to know why you joined the Air Force. DZ: Oh, well, you know, I mean, my two brothers, older brothers, were in the Air Force. We grew up in Colorado. The Air Force Academy is there. We were always fans of the football team, and we had visited the academy. We were all Air Force guys. And they did it, and I just followed suit. And, you know, it was during the war and I just thought, 23 you know, was a good time to serve. And I joined and -- certainly didn't go to Vietnam. I was a Vietnam era veteran, but I just thought it was a good thing to do. I liked it, and I didn't make a career out of it. I had -- opportunity to go to officer's school, and thought I could progress faster doing studies on my own. And, in fact, that was the case. But the Air Force changed my life. I mean, it got me out of the small town, and I saw the world. And when I lived in Europe, I visited all sorts of different countries, and visited my family in Yugoslavia. I would never have done that without the Air Force. So, I am deeply grateful for that experience. It was -- it's a life -- it was a life-changing situation. Became a TM teacher, taught -- you know, learned another language. So, very, very grateful, the opportunity that was presented, and then got my education -- I mean, finished my education when I got back with the GI Bill and bought a house. And there's so many things. So, it fit, you know? And I really didn't have the brains to figure that out, what I was going to do when I got in. I just said, hey, I'm going to do this and see what happens. SY: You were, what, 18? DZ: I was 20. SY: Twenty. DZ: Yeah, yeah, so -- SY: Yeah. DZ: -- but it was beautiful, I -- so, it was good situation. Very grateful. SY: And you liked the physical challenge, too, right? DZ: I liked it. And the Air Force isn't, certainly, as physically -- challenge as, like, the Marine Corps or the Army. And my Marine friends and my Army soldier friends all agree. SY: I heard (laughter) the joke the other day that -- of the Chair Force. DZ: Yeah. Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. SY: That was the joke that I heard, yeah. (laughs) DZ: But, you know, I take it in all good humor. SY: Yeah. DZ: And I admire them and am very grateful for all their service as well. So, it just -- we're -- I like to be part of the team. And being part of Norwich team and being accepted here and being part of the culture is really good. But, you know, in the beginning, it was very much, you know, weird and strange and odd, which I can understand. I understand that. But once we start looking at the science and the practical application and who I was and -- I wasn't into some of the strange things that are stereotypically associated -- SY: Well, again, you're this bridge. DZ: Yeah, yeah. SY: You're this, like -- DZ: Yeah. SY: -- amalgam that works, right? (laughter) Bringing meditation into these, like, more sort of, like, macho worlds -- DZ: Yeah, yeah. SY: -- like a prison or like the military or -- DZ: And, you know, what I find is that, you know, these young men and women -- Norwich -- the students here are just -- they absolutely amaze me. I mean, at the end of the sentence, they call me sir as opposed to other things that I was called when I worked in the criminal justice system, the combinations of family and different kinds of things were just very 24 creative. (laughter) But they are so motivated, and to add this tool to their -- already their intensity is really nice, because it's like a tune-up twice a day. So, it's going to make them even more effective. So, I say, as a decision-maker, when you become an officer, if that were my son or daughter, I would hope to goodness that you would have a clear mind when you're making decisions when lives are at stake. And clear minds make less mistakes. And your troops -- and you may not even have to go to war. You could be that formidable, that we don't want you as an opponent. We can -- let's have this chat. And so, who knows down the road? But we'll see. Greater minds than mind will make those decisions. But my biggest -- my hope is that they can get it in the curriculum and get it going and have somebody do that. And there's a few young people here who are interested in becoming teachers, and that would be really magnificent. There's a staff member who's interested in becoming a teacher. I would like that. It would be organic in nature, and then I could go onto whatever else I'm supposed to do and -- (laughter) SY: Right, whatever happens to be next. DZ: That's right. SY: Right? DZ: That's right. SY: And -- END OF AUDIO FILE

Issue 50.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1991. ; Review for Religious Volume 50 Number 3 May/June 1991 Paradigms for Ministry ,Religious Life and Modernity Mary, Woman for Peacemakers Atheism in Our Prayer ANNIVERSARY VOLUME Rt~vmw vo~ R~.:t,tc~ous (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at St. Louis University by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus: Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428: St. Louis. MO 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis. MO. POSTMASTER: Send address changes In Rr:v~:w ~'ou R~:~,l~;,ms: P.O. Bnx 6070: Duluth, MN 55806. Subscription rates: Single copy $3.50 plus mailing costs. One-year subscription $15.00 plus mailing costs: two-year subscription $28.00 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for subscription informa-tion and mailing costs. © 1991 R~:w~:w David L. Fleming, S.J. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Michael G. Harter, S.J. Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors David J. Hassel, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Wendy Wright, Ph.D. Advisory Board Mary Margaret Johanning, S.S.N.D. Sean Sammon, F.M.S. Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B. May/June 1991 Volume 50 Number 3 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor should be sent to R~:vl~:w ~'on R~:Lt{;tot~s; 3601 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Cannnical Counsel" should be addressed to Elizabeth McDonough, O.P.; 5001 Eastern Avenue: P.O. Box 29260; Washingtnn, D.C. 20017. Back issues should be ordered from Rt~vt~:w vo~ RELI(;IOUS; 3601 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of Print" issues are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to: Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. PRISMS. Struggle marks these first few months of 1991. The struggle in the Middle East, whatever the good and bad results, has made even more evident in our time the futility of modern warfare as a way of solving human problems. Violent warfare breeds only further injustice in a down-ward spiral for humankind. Pope John Paul II, along with leaders in the other Christian churches, left no doubt that "just" wars (much less "holy" wars) are concepts with no meaning for our technological world. How painful a struggle it is for people of different races or ethnic origins to work together to form a single nation becomes daily more ap-parent in Africa, in India, in the Eastern European countries, and in North, Central, and South America. Poverty and wealth present another face of struggle---evident perhaps as close as our urban neighborhood and writ as large as the consumer societies of the northern hemisphere in relation to the debt-ridden nations of the southern hemisphere. And differences in religious belief and traditions still mix in with other fac-tors to stir up the seemingly endless struggle in situations as far apart as Northern Ireland, Lebanon, and Sri Lanka. In comparison with these world-situated struggles, our local strug-gles in parish life, in our religious communities, in family, and in our various ministry situations pale in significance. But local struggles still cause real pain and leave wounds that cripple our efforts, make us less faith-filled and less human, and ultimately tend to arouse in us the war-monger desires we decry "out there" in the bigger world. In the venerable tradition of the Catholic Church, Mary mother of the Lord, appears to take prominence in our faith lives at times of greater struggle. With reflections particularly appropriate to our present-day con-text, Patricia McCarthy, C.N.D., turns our focus to Mary as a woman for peacemakers. In a similar way, Jeffrey Gros, F.S.C., suggests that Mary may well play an integrating role in ecumenical relations rather than the divisive one that is traditionally projected. Perhaps with our hearts more attuned to the peacemaking role of Mary we can enter more reflectively into the struggle of our Christian and religious community lives and of our various ministries. James J. McEnroe explores new meanings for the images we use in regard to Chris-tian ministry as a way of presenting some reconciling paradigms. "The Ministry of BEing" represents Charleen Hug's attempt to bring balance to the interior struggle which people face in'the midst of their work. For his part, William Hogan, C.S.C., underscores mission as central to life together as well as to a vocational appeal. Dennis J. Billy, C.SS.R., 321 Review for Religious, May-June 1991 brings together some traditional and modern approaches taken to moral theology and the special symbol role of religious life within this disci-pline. Perhaps he points a way to understanding how religious life and peacemaking are meant necessarily to be congruent. Other writers turn our attention to some alleviating factors in the strug-gle areas of our community lives--whatever form community may take for us. Mary Carboy, S.S.J., stresses hospitality, Donald Macdonald, S.M.M., considers courtesy, and Melannie Svoboda, S.N.D., imagina-tively suggests various lubricants for community living. With a specific focus on the life of women and men religious, Albert Dilanni, S.M., pre-sents some insightful reflections to situate the current struggles about re-ligious- life identity. Gerald Arbuckle, S.M., looks at leadership and its organic role in the struggle of refounding. The area of formation in the light of structural sin and structural conversion is the concern of David Couturier, O.F.M.Cap. Doris Gottemoeller, R.S.M., gives us further food for thought about the confused issue of membership as new ways of associating people into religious organizations and activities are be-ing explored. Our ultimate struggle, of course, is our relationship with God. One very important aspect of that struggle is caught in the paradoxical title of David J. Hassel's "Atheism in Our Prayer." Just as the biblical ac-count of Jacob's wrestling with an angel mirrors at times our own strug-gles to respond to the continuing conversion calls from the Lord, so Has-sel tries to shed light into the areas of darkness and apparent absence of God that are often a part of developing faith life. In prayer, in community, and in mission we look to Mary to intro-duce us ever more deeply into the ways of her Son, the Son of peace. Perhaps the Marian mantra for our times is captured in the traditional "Mary, queen of peace, pray for us." David L. Fleming, S.J. Paradigms for Ministry: Old Images, New Meanings James J. McEnroe, Th.D. Father McEnroe, of the St. Louis archdiocese, teaches pastoral theology at Kenrick Seminary and has helped facilitate some programs for the archdiocesan Office of Min-istry. His address is Kenrick Seminary; 5200 Glennon Drive; St. Louis, Missouri 63119. Recently, during a class session in which the topic "Paradigms for Min-istry" was being discussed, a student observed that it is difficult to find meaning in some of the traditional paradigms for ministry, especially those derived from another culture and another time. ~ The paradigms that the student was referring to are some of the more traditional in Christian theology and in the Bible. These paradigms are pilgrim, servant, prophet, and shepherd.2 Each of them, if they are to be meaningful, must be retrieved and reinterpreted in the light of a contemporary understand-ing of ministry, including the skills necessary to live out those paradigms in ministry. In this article each paradigm will be discussed, with special consideration given to its biblical roots, its contemporary meaning, and the skills required to live it out in ministry. Finally, some conclusions will be drawn concerning ministry today, especially the demands placed on persons who are engaged in or preparing for ministry, in the church or in the marketplace. Paradigm (paradeigmatizo) means "to make an example of." Para-digms emerge from an attempt to think about something from within our own experience. Paradigms are by their very nature incomplete; that is, they are helpful constructs with which to speak about a particular reality but which always fall short of that reality. If paradigms are to make sense, therefore, they must resonate with our experience in ministry. 323 324 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 And, if we are to put those paradigms into practice in ministry, we must gain the skills necessary to do so. Pilgrim The paradigm of pilgrim evokes the image of a journey. The Greek word (anabaino) means "to go up to." In the New Testament the fol-lowers of Christ are called nonresident aliens (para-epi-demos), because they were on a pilgrimage to their true homeland, which is connected in-timately with the reign of God. The first epistle of Peter (1:1) is ad-dressed to "those who live as strangers scattered throughout Pontus, Gala-tia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia.' ,3 The image conveyed in the para-digm, at least as it is found in the Christian Bible, is that of persons who know where they are going, but who need to travel through some un-known territory in order to get there. In the Bible these pilgrims are pre-sumed to be traveling on foot, taking one step at a time, and in a rather systematic, that is, orderly, way.4 As with any travelers, pilgrims must possess certain skills, which be-come tools of their trade. Pilgrims are confronted with the need to read road maps, recognize the meaning of signposts, and investigate the proper means of conveyance in order to reach their destination. Those traveling to areas with which they are unfamiliar, for example, soon dis-cover that, unless one of their party possesses a sense of direction and is skilled in the art of map reading, the journey can become inconven-ient, even treacherous. C.S. Lewis, in his Pilgrim's Regress, says that pilgrims must pos-sess the ability to use certain instrumentation on their journey. One of Lewis's characters, a young man named John, is being instructed in the ways of the world by his elders. He cannot understand their suggestions, however. The elders are supposed tO be his guides. Yet, as Lewis points out, if John does not learn to navigate on his own he will be forever at the mercy of other would-be guides.5 At one point in the story, a stew-ard slips a card containing some rules into John's hand, at which point a question is posed. "What use are rules to people who cannot read?''6 If those engaged in or preparing for ministry cannot use the tools of their trade and do not possess practical knowledge, they will be forever at the mercy of other, perhaps less competent, guides. The skills that are required for putting the paradigm of pilgrim into practice in ministry are called instrumental skills. They are the skills of the mind and of the hands: of cognition, of artisanship, and of one's min-istry. The origin of instrumental skills relates to the development of tools in the history of the human community, and to the personal dexterity re- Pardigms for Ministry quired to use them.7 It is difficult to imagine someone ministering in today's Church who is unable to use a computer, which is really an advanced form of the quill or pen. It is equally difficult to imagine someone ministering who is un-able to express himself or herself clearly and effectively, either in pub-lic speaking or in writing. Since ministry today requires both planning and evaluation, it is essential also for those engaged in it to be able to plan programs effectively and to evaluate them when they are completed. There is also a body of practical knowledge, for example, theology, Scrip-ture, and Church history, that is essential for ministry today. It is common to hear persons engaged in ministry complain about be-ing required to attend computer training courses, time-management and stress-management classes, or opportunities for continuing theological education. When asked why they are complaining, persons in ministry may say, "Because I am too busy and tired." Which perhaps demon-strates that time management and stress management are necessary in-strumental skills for today's ministers. While they may complain, min-isters are doing themselves, as well as those with whom and for whom they work, a great service by acquiring the necessary instrumental skills for their work. If we are going to be pilgrim people, we must possess the skills re-quired to be the best of pilgrims. We must, with God's help, be able to chart our course and read the signposts and thereby successfully negoti-ate the journey. Servant The second paradigm, that of servant, evokes an image of one who assists others. In the New Testament the word servant (doulos) is actu-ally a title of honor, which was claimed by Paul and by the disciples of Jesus. In the letter to the Romans (1:1), Paul refers to himself as a "ser-vant of Christ Jesus." The servant paradigm, at least among the early Christians, had lost its pejorative meaning. In fact, those who assisted others in the community were called servants (douleo) because that was their ministry.8 In the Church today there are many ministries that are ministries of service: for example, spiritual direction, pastoral counseling, evangeli-zation, and youth ministry. These,'and other ministries of service, re-quire certain skills that allow the ministers to walk with those with whom they minister and to whom they are sent. Karl Rahner, in his Servants of the Lord, says that ministry is by its very nature service, not status. He adds that service must be seen always 326 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 in reference to the community. Service requires ministers to be with and to walk with others who are on their own journeys in life.9 The skills necessary for serving others are called interpersonal skills. They bring about human cooperation, they enhance human interaction. ~0 In fact, the Church, in its traditional understanding of ministry, equates it with service. Ann Wilson Schaef, in her book The Addictive Organi-zation, points out that we live in a world of codependents, rather than in an interdependent world. Dysfunctions in the family of origin makes it very difficult for an incr.easingly large number of persons to work ef-fectively in cooperative and collaborative settings.t~ Since those preparing for or engaged in ministry are products of their environment, both familial and societal, and since environment deter-mines to a large extent the strengths as well as the weaknesses which per-sons bring to ministry, today's ministers must work especially hard to develop and maintain their interpersonal skills. In the Church today there is a clear call for collaborative ministry, that is, for teams of women and men working together for the good of the Church. Ironically, for some of the aforementioned reasons, many of those choosing ministry as their vocation would rather work alone. They are not team players, perhaps because they have not learned the skills necessary for cooperation and for successful human interaction. ~2 For a significant number of persons preparing for or engaged in min-istry, there are several interpersonal skills that are difficult to put into practice in their lives and in their ministries. One of those skills is con-frontation. Perhaps the difficulty lies in the assumption that confronta-tion, which requires the honest expression of emotion and assertiveness, is not the Christian thing to do. When those engaged in ministry experi-ence conflicts between themselves and others, they must confront the per-son or persons with whom there is a conflict--which is perhaps the only Christian thing to do. Confrontation is the ability to name and express one's inner reaction, usu-ally emotional, to an external event, especially but not exclusively when it involves an unpleasant encounter. Confrontation is like holding up a mir-ror so that others can see themselves. Confrontation should be used with honesty and care to address another person's behavior, when that behav-ior is appropriate and when it is inappropriate. It is essential, both for life and for ministry, to skillfully confront problematic situations so that com-munication and understanding can lead to more successful ministry. Instrumental and interpersonal skills, therefore, are basic skills for anyone engaged in or preparing for ministry. And, more often than not, Paradigms for Ministry / 327 instrumental and interpersonal skills are acquired at the same time. In fact, they are complementary. They enhance the minister's ability to meet the technical demands of ministry and to communicate more effec-tively with others on a daily basis. Perhaps a concrete example of the interaction and interdependence of instrumental and interpersonal skills will be helpful. The ministry of spiritual direction, which more and more persons are requesting, requires directors to possess certain instrumental skills. Directors must know the techniques of direction and be versed in spiritual theology and sacred Scripture. They must also possess certain interpersonal skills. They must hear accurately the issues presented by directees and reflect back to them what they hear. Instrumental skills, for the most part, must be acquired. Interpersonal skills, on the other hand, can be innate. But more often than not they need to be acquired. Perhaps, at meetings with technically competent per-sons, we have seen the participants "sharing" insights with one another and yet not hearing one another, or at least not reflecting back to the speak-ers what they heard. The purpose of such reflecting back, of course, is to give the speakers a sense of being heard and the listeners a chance to check out what the speakers are saying. Formation programs for minis-try, as well as many professional schools, teach and foster not only the instrumental skills necessary for their professions, but also the interper-sonal skills necessary for cooperation and collaboration. This is both en~ couraging and timely. Persons engaged in or preparing for ministry today face the challenge of acquiring the instrumental and interpersonal skills that are necessary for their vocation. Skilled helpers are not only good pilgrims, but they are also more effective servants, offering companionship, guidance, and support. Prophet The third paradigm is that of prophet, which all too often evokes the image of a wild-eyed eccentric ranting and raving against someone or something. In the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures, the prophets (nevi' im) are seers, interpreters of God's activity in the midst of the peo-ple. 13 The prophets see things that others have not seen, cannot see, or refuse to see. Because the prophets are persons of extraordinary faith and commitment to the community, they name the action of God in the midst of the community. In Luke's gospel (2:36-38), for example, the prophet Anna brings the news of the Messiah to those who wait for his coming. She sees, be- ~121~ / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 cause she is a woman of prayer and self-denial, what others have not seen. Like other prophet.s in the Bible, she possesses extraordinary vi-sion. In the Acts of the Apostles (2:4, 17-18; 19:6) and in the Book of Revelation (10:11 and 18:20), we are reminded that on Pentecost the gift of prophetic imagination was renewed by the Holy Spirit and the gift of prophetic vision was given to the community of faith. The disciples saw and heard. And they announced to others the Good News of salvation. More importantly, they exhorted the community to live in the light of the redemption, and they consoled those who were frightened or weary. Their prophetic vision was .their ministry and their gift to the commu-nity of faith, the Church. 14 Gerald Arbuckle says that the refounding of religious life, and per-haps of the Church itself, will be accomplished by persons who possess a charismatically inspired and well-developed imagination. 15 The proph-ets will be those who seek out new ways of doing things. They will be inspired by a prophetic imagination and by the Spirit of God. 16 They will be both intuitive and imaginative. And, at times, they will be misunder-stood by their contemporaries and even by their colleagues, sometimes simply because they will find it difficult to communicate their insights to others, for whom the insights will seem outrageous and ill-advised. 17 Walter Brueggemann, in his book The Prophetic Imagination, points out that the task of prophetic persons, like that of their forebears whose lives are recounted in the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures, is to nurture and to nourish their communities by evoking a consciousness and a per-ception of reality that is often different from that of the dominant cul-ture. 18 Prophetic persons challenge those within the dominant culture, who are unwilling to go beyond the scope of common sense or the pre-vailing wisdom and who say, "This is the way that we have always done things" or "If it is not broke then do not fix it." The key to cultivating a prophetic vision is to learn and to enhance imaginal skills. Those wanting to develop their imagination must engage in projects and educational experiences that encourage them to search for possibly better ways of doing things than the way they have always been done--even improvements on "common sense." Imaginal skills enable one to generate new ideas and alternative so-lutions. 19 Imaginal skills arise in the interaction between fantasy, emo-tions, and the reflective intellect. These skills allow persons to miniatur-ize, to organize, and to reflect accurately on data gathered from their en-vironment and from the five senses.2° Imaginal skills are acquired some-what differently than instrumental and interpersonal skills. To acquire or Paradigms for Ministry / 329 to develop imaginal skills, women and men must associate and work with other imaginative and creative persons. This, however, requires that cer-tain instrumental and interpersonal skills are firmly in place. Imagina-tion is developed also through attentiveness to, participating in, or ap-preciating the arts. For some, especially for those whose imaginal skills are less well developed, imaginative and creative persons often appear to be flying by the seat of their pants. And in some ways they are. Pro-phetic persons often find little support in their communities because their suggestions seem distant and even frightening to the less imaginative.2~ People commonly criticize persons in their community who are "pains." In reality, those "pains" may be creative and imaginative, but they may lack the necessary skills (instrumental and interpersonal) to communicate with others. Imaginal skills that are necessary for anyone attempting to live out the paradigm of prophet are resourcefulness and experimentation. These skills facilitate progress---even if their attempts sometimes lead to fail-ure. 22 At such times imaginative and creative persons may appear flighty and irresponsible. To prevent avoidable failure, they need to select from the imagined alternatives not only concrete but practical and construc-tive solutions to the problems with which their communities are faced.23 People usually acquire imaginal skills after acquiring instrumental and interpersonal skills because, with instrumental and interpersonal skills, they begin to experience and appreciate their autonomy while still rec-ognizing their connectedness to the community of faith.24 If persons are going to live out the paradigm of prophet, they must possess a prophetic imagination, as well as certain instrumental and in-terpersonal skills. Communities of faith need the gift of prophetic imagi-nation just as much today as at the time of the prophets of old. Shepherd Finally, there is the paradigm of shepherd, which evokes the rustic image of a person with staff in hand leading the sheep down a treacher-ous hillside. The paradigm may seem even more problematic if one re-alizes how dumb sheep really are. Yet in Luke's gospel it was the shep-herds who were among the first to be informed of the Messiah's birth (2:8-20). And in the epistle to the Ephesians (4:1 l) the apostles and their successors, who exercised a ministry of leadership in the community of faith, are referred to as shepherd-leaders ~n the Christian commumty. Gerald Arbuckle notes that leaders in religious congregations, and by analogy in the Church itself, are called to be problem solvers. They must be highly rational and organized persons. They must be able to Iogi- 330 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 cally analyze problems, to take the advice and counsel of others, and to implement the likely solutions.25 Leaders in ministry are called, there-fore, to help create and to share a vision with others, often in consulta-tion and in collaboration with prophetic persons, with servants, and with the great mass of those along their pilgrim way. Leadership in the Church today requires the development of system skills. Leadership requires both an acute sense of the direction in which commu-nities are headed and the ability to help them to get where they should be headed. Yet many persons with these system skills are frustrated. Their psychic and spiritual energies are drained because they face enormous fi-nancial problems and ever increasing personnel issues. Leaders today are expected to keep their communities financially stable and to meet the emo-tional and spiritual needs of the community members. Many leaders spend so much time maintaining the community and its members that they have little time or energy to help create the long-term solutions to the problems. As a friend said recently, "Anyone who yearns for or covets leadership in the Church today deserves to be a leader!" In light of the aforementioned demands, it is reasonable to assume that leaders do not have to be the prophetic or imaginative persons in the community, although a healthy dose of prophetic imagination helps. Lead-ership does require, however, the ability to recognize imaginative and creative solutions to problems and to coordinate the various gifts and skills of the community. System skills require a blend of imagination (imaginal skill), inter-personal sensitivity (interpersonal skill), and instrumental competence (in-strumental skill). System skills enable those who possess them to see how the parts of a community (diocese, religious congregation, parish, or organization) relate to the whole. System skills are not necessarily man-agement skills, although leadership may require a person to be a good manager, to make sound financial decisions (instrumental skill) and to relate well to persons within the system (interpersonal skill). System skills do, however, allow one to plan for change, especially when a change of direction is necessary for the health of the system in question. As Brian Hall says, persons who possess system skills see "the simple unity of it all."26 Shepherd-leaders see the big picture. And they are willing to take the necessary risks that will allow their communities to grow and to pros-per. Shepherd-leaders, because they possess system skills, seldom get trapped by shortsighted and wrongheaded solutions to complex prob-lems. While the solutions they endorse may sound extremely simple, Paradigms for Ministry / 331 even naive, they often embody an inherent wisdom and even God's will and desire for the community itself. An example of a system skill is system recognition, the ability to read the present and future needs of the community.27 At a deeper level, system recognition allows shepherd-leaders to read the signs of the times as they are significant for the community itself. Of course, the challenge to "read the signs of the times" was enunciated at the Second Vatican Council. Pope John XXIII possessed the skills necessary for his pro-phetic and imaginative shepherd-leadership. There is a picture, actually an icon, of Pope John holding a scroll on which the following verse ap-pears: "We are not on earth to guard a museum, but to cultivate a flour-ishing garden of life." The attitude behind that quotation summarizes the attitude with which shepherd-leaders carry out their task. Of course, shepherd-leaders must be able to distinguish between myth and reality, between a bright idea and a right idea.28 System skills allow those who possess them to discern more easily whether the direc-tion in which the system (diocese, congregation, parish, or organization) is headed is in accord with God's will and desire. Persons preparing for or engaged in leadership ministry must learn or develop system skills in order to be shepherd-leaders within their com-munities of faith. It has been said that the paradigm of the shepherd is both outdated and irrelevant. Perhaps, as we put the paradigm into a new context, namely into a system perspective, we can appreciate it in a new way by retrieving its original meaning and beauty, even within a largely nonagrarian culture. Through the Bible and through theology, the Church has been blessed with some very rich paradigms for life and for ministry. These paradigms (pilgrim, servant, prophet, and shepherd), if they are to be lived out in ministry, require the development of certain skills. Practical Conclusions There are some practical conclusions that flow from an understand-ing of the paradigms for ministry that were discussed in this article. First, skill development is sequential. Second, effective ministry requires that skills be identified in and shared among the members of a community. Third, as persons reach a certain level of skill development, they are con-fronted with the need to acquire higher levels of skills in the four skill areas (instrumental, interpersonal, imaginal, and system). Finally, life-long learning and continuing education are required for anyone engaged in ministry today. First, skill development is sequential. Instrumental and interpersonal 3~12 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 skills are developed conjointly. One learns to think and to perform man-ual tasks while learning to relate to other persons in the environment. Dur-ing childhood, for example, we learned to read and write while we learned to relate to others. The process is the same in adulthood, except that the reading, writing, and relating require a higher level of skill de-velopment. Formation programs for ministry in the Church are, hope-fully, teaching those who participate in them theology and the traditions of the Church and of the communities to which they will be sent. They are teaching the participants also to pray. All of these are instrumental skills. Formation programs teach people how to relate to others more ef-fectively and to integrate their lifestyle (married, single, or celibate) into their ministry; these are interpersonal skills. As persons acquire instrumental and interpersonal skills, through for-mal education their energies are directed toward convergent thinking, that is, toward remembering and reproducing what is already known. It is necessary, therefore, to develop within those preparing for ministry the capacity for divergent thinking, which is a requirement for prophetic ministry. 29 Divergent thinking leads to new ideas and new ways of doing things. Gerald Arbuckle describes divergent thinkers as "intrapreneurs," whose task is to revitalize existing corporate cultures (dioceses, congregations, parishes, or religious communities). He describes entrepreneurs as those whose task is to establish new ventures outside the existing corporate struc-ture, yet who have close ties to that structure.3° Intrapreneurs must pos-sess high levels of system skills, and entrepreneurs must possess high lev-els of imaginal skills. In order to be effective, ministers must continue to develop skills in the areas that are appropriate for the ministries in which they are engaged. Second, skills for ministry are most effective when they are shared among a group of persons working cooperatively and collaboratively. As St. Paul said in l Corinthians 12:4-7, "There are different gifts but the same Spirit; there are different ministries but the same Lord." While very few individuals possess notable skill in all of the skill areas, a team of persons may possess all those skills to a notable degree. The more gifted and skilled the collaborators, the more effective their ministry will be. One person, within a group of persons working together, may pos-sess the ability to commit the group's wisdom to paper or even to do some-thing as practical as writing a proposal or a request for a grant. Another person may possess the ability to relate to others in the group and in so Paradigms for Ministry ! 333 doing make the entire team more efficient and effective. Another team member may be imaginative, dreaming up solutions to problems facing the group. Another member may be able to see how the group's activi-ties fit into the overall scheme of the larger community's (diocese, par-ish, or religious congregation) life and mission. The more diverse the skills of the collaborators or coministers, the more efficient and effec-tive their ministry will be. Third, as ministers reach a certain level of skill development, they discover a need to acquire skills at higher levels in order to meet the in-creased demands of their life and ministry. Perhaps some examples will be helpful. Many persons in ministry today find themselves spending time and energy writing talks and proposals. They are learning, there-fore, to use computers and other high-tech communication equipment-- which, of course, requires them to develop more sophisticated instrumen-tal skills. It is also necessary today, especially for those engaged in ministry or in religious life, to become more skilled participants in meetings and in other group endeavors. This requires the development of better inter-personal skills. As ministers plan for their own corporate ministry and for ministering within their communities, there is an increasing need for persons with imaginal and system skills to be working with their col-leagues in ministry. Persons in ministry today must, then, bring to their cooperative en-deavors their own skills and talents. With those skills and talents, the ef-forts of the ministering community will be successful; without them those efforts may be in vain. Finally, if the skills needed to meet the inc.reasing demands of min-istry are to be developed, persons engaged in or preparing for ministry must make a commitment to lifelong learning. Perhaps congregations of men and women religious were the first to recognize this fact and to de-velop continuing-education programs for their members. Today dioceses are developing programs for the continuing education of priests and dea-cons, as well as formation programs and continuing-education programs for nonordained persons in ministry. Persons in ministry do value and use the continuing-education and formation programs at their disposal in order to meet the demands made upon them in the Church in particular and in society at large. Our theological and biblical heritage contains a wealth of paradigms for life and for ministry. We are pilgrims on a journey of faith. We are called to care for one another along that journey. We are invited to dis- 334/Review for Religious, May-June 1991 cern the movement of God's Spirit in our midst as we journey. Finally, we are commissioned to be shepherd-leaders. May our communities of faith be blessed with pilgrims, servants, prophets, and shepherd-leaders skilled enough to build up the body, the Church, and to usher in the reign of God. NOTES I Michael T. Winstanley's article "The Shepherd Image in the Scriptures: A Para-digm for Ministry" (Clergy Review 71 [June 1986]: 197-206), which focuses on the paradigm of shepherd from a biblical perspective, was an inspiration for the class presentation that elicited the student's observation. Winstanley's presentation of the shepherding image invited reflection on the skills that are necessary in order to put that image into practice. That reflection raised the issue of the need to put other equally helpful paradigms into a contemporary context. 2 I am using both prophet and shepherd as gender-inclusive words. 3 The biblical quotations in this article are from the New American Bible. 4 Xavier L6on-Dufour, Dictionary of the New Testament, trans. Terrence Prender-gast (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1980), p. 324. 5 C.S. Lewis, The Pilgrim's Regress (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1944), pp. 15f. 6 lbid, p. 193. 7 Brian P. Hall, The Genesis Effect (New York: Paulist Press, 1986), pp. 99f. 8 L6on-Dufour, p. 368. 9 Karl Rahner, Servants of the Lord (Montreal: Palm Publishers, 1968), p. 6. 10 Hall, p. 100. 11 Anne Wilson Schaef, The Addictive Organization (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1988), p. 96. 12 lbid, p. 100. 13 John E. Steinmueller and Kathryn Sullivan, R.S.C.J., Catholic Biblical Encyclo-pedia (New York: Joseph F. Wagner, 1950), p. 527. i,~ L~on-Dufour, p. 338. 15 Gerald A. Arbuckle, S.M. Out of Chaos: Refounding Religious Congregations (New York: Paulist Press, 1988), p: 1. 16 lbid, p. 14. 17 Ibid, pp. 30f. 18 Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic Imagination (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1978), p. 13. 19 Hall, p. 100. 20 Janet Kalven, Larry Rosen, and Bruce Taylor, Value Development: A Practical Guide (New York: Paulist Press, 1982), p. 23. 2~ Arbuckle, pp. 30f. 26 Hall, p. 147. 22 Kalven et al., p. 26. 27 Kalven et al., p. 31. 23 Ibid. 28 Ibid. 24 Hall, p. 143. 29 Kalven et al., p. 125. 25 Arbuckle, p. 31. 30 Arbuckle, p. 33. The Ministry of BEing M. Charleen Hug, S.N.D. Sister Mary Charleen Hug, S.N.D., wrote "Celibacy: Gift of a Woman's Love" for our issue of September/October 1988. Her address is 3837 Secor Road; Toledo, Ohio 43623. What an exciting age for apostolic women religious! Never before in the history of the Church have there been so many diverse ministries open to them. My people are homeless, shelter them. My people are starving, feed them. My people are oppressed, unshackle them. My people are ignorant, teach them. The lure is there. The challenge is there. The need is there. Called and sent, committed and dedicated to the cause for peace and justice, women religious now head health clinics, retreat centers. They serve in parish ministry, as pastoral associates. They are found in class-rooms, in the mission fields, in hospices for the terminally ill. They are chairpersons on national committees and help staff diocesan offices. They are participants in marches for the plight of the homeless and in protest against nuclear buildup. They take their stand against abortion, racism, and the arms race. They are engaged in all of these ministries and more. More, because there will always be the more. With the two talents I give you, says Jesus in a parable, go and make two more; with five barley loaves and two fish, feed the five thousand; all that I have done, so will you do---all this and even more! In return for the more I will reward even a cup of cold water given in my name, says Jesus. Our present age takes this more seriously, for it is the age of minis- 335 336 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 try. One more act of service to perform, one more cause to support, one more lesson to prepare, one more meeting to attend. The global village is shrinking. Impersonal people "out there" have become our brothers and sisters with very real needs that we can no longer ignore. Address-ing these needs in Jesus' name in view of the gifts and abilities with which we have been blessed is what Christian ministry is all about. For the deeply committed religious it would seem at times that this very min-istry sustains, as though that were part of the hundredfold promised. This is indeed a very blessing because experience soon proves that no matter how many ministries we take on, no matter how effectively and effi-ciently we labor, there will always be the more that is needed--more that cries out to us for fulfillment. Without great vigilance on our part we can all too readily fall into the do-list trap of evaluating the seeming "suc-cess" and "failure" of any given day by the number of items we have managed to cross off our daily list come nightfall. Because continuous do-ing drains, our present age calls apostolic women religious just as loudly to the ministry basic to all ministries, the ministry without which all do-ing becomes meaningless, empty, namely the ministry of be-ing. This ministry will be neither underwritten nor ig-nored without serious consequences not only to do-ing, but also to all that we are. Is it because the ministry of be-ing is so basic to who we are in essence that we rarely take heed of it? Do we take it so for granted that we fail to provide the time and solitude necessary to cultivate, nour-ish, and cherish it? How often, amidst all of our do-ing, do we set aside time to praise and thank God for this ministry for which each person quali-fies, in which each person can excel? In solitude the truth of "what you do flows from who you are" takes in-depth meaning. In solitude we look to Jesus, for whom, to whom, through whom we minister. In the beginning was the Word: the Word was with God and the Word was God . Through him all things came to be, not one thing had its be-ing but through him .The Word was made flesh and lived among us. (John 1:1, 14). The Word had so brief a time in which to perform the greatest min-istry this world would ever know. In the span of just thirty-three years Jesus had to be the fulfillment of the entire Old Testament, make his Fa-ther known and loved, and secure the redemption of every soul his Fa-ther would love into life. Given this ministry Jesus chose to devote the first thirty of these years to the ministry of be-ing God-made-man. When his active apostolic ministry did commence, "I AM!" identified who he was and why he "dwelt among us." He showed himself to be bread for The Ministry of BEing the hungry, drink for the thirsty, comfort for the sorrowing, compassion for the sinner, friend of simple souls, rest for the weary, light in the dark-ness, perfect image of the Father, I AM the way, the truth, the life. That Jesus' mission of be-ing was misunderstood by those to whom he minis-tered is evidenced by those who jeered. What good are you doing hanging there! Come down from the cross and do! There are still illnesses that need to be healed, sins that need to be forgiven, lessons that need to be taught, so much that we still do not un-derstand. Come down from the cross and do! By remaining on the cross Jesus became the supreme example of the relationship between be-ing and do-ing. It was in be-ing the sacrifical Lamb of God that all do-ing for all time would take on eternal value. By be-ing Resurrection and the Life he gave to each person (as inheritance!) eternal be-ing with the Father! Each of us is a be-ing created in the im-age of the Father! To remain true to this essence it is paramount that, in the midst of and because of all the ministries that demand our do-ing, we spend ample time daily in solitude. Then, while "surrounded on all sides by the crowds," as 'Jesus was, we, too, will know when someone has "touched us." We, too, will experience that "something has gone forth from [us]." Someone has called forth from "who we are" the very reason "that we are." We will discover why we are there: why we are there; why we are there amidst that particular crowd of people. In soli-tude we come to see that it is not sufficient that we praise God through our ministry; we long to be his praise. It is not sufficient that we thank God; we long to be his thanksgiving. We are not content to spread his goodness; we desire to be his goodness. It is not enough that we speak to others of his beauty; we long to be a tiny part of that beauty--and of that peace, that joy, that love! Such subtleties are not gleaned in the mar-ketplace. When it comes time for the belt that Jesus said would be tied around our waist leading us to where we would rather not go (see Jn 21 : 18), thus perhaps ending our ministry of do-ing, even if temporarily, we will em-brace that "belt." In the midst of our do-ing we will have sensitized our-selves to hear a Voice beckoning us: Be daughter of the Father, special possession of the Son, bride of the Spirit. Be she in whom the Father delights, she for whom the heavens were made. Be home of the Trinity, safekeeping for the kept secrets of the King. Be she whom the Father surrounds with his presence, enfolds with his tender love. Be faithful daughter of holy Mother the Church. Be an altar for the offering of a sacrifice of pure love, praise, and Review for Religious, May-June 1991 reverence to God. Be the dove sheltered in the clefts of the rocks, long-ing to see the face of God. Be garden enclosed, the fountain sealed. Be the fire set ablaze that Christ came to cast upon the earth. The Voice beckons further extending our parameters: My people are victims of injustice, be their righteousness. My people are suffering from painful diseases, be their relief. My people are lonely and without a shepherd, be their friend. My people are killing each other, be the peace between them. Be the missionary you always longed to be, spreading the joyful mes-sage that the kingdom of God is here, now. Be witness of the fidelity of a merciful God who loves jealously, passionately, infinitely. Be a bea-con of hope to those whose light has grown dim. Be a wounded healer by gathering up the pain of the world and offering it to the Father. Be a caring, compassionate, companion on the journey. Be for those en-trusted to you, those who depend on your be-ing. Be all things to all peo-ple. As in the case of the ministry of do-ing the ministry of be-ing like-wise demands the more, the infinitely more. More joy, more love, more peace, more patience . The more we embrace this ministry, the more it will embrace us. The more perceptive we become to living this minis-try, the more fully alive we become. The more we treasure this minis-try, the more it becomes our priceless treasure. It is an inexhaustible min-istry with inexhaustible fringe benefits just waiting to be claimed. The ministry of be-ing can be the pledge, the promise, and the prized pos-session of every apostolic woman religious. It is this reality that makes the present age an exciting one indeed in which to minister! Religious Life and Modernity Albert Dilanni, S.M. Father Dilanni taught philosophy for thirteen years, served as provincial of the North-east Province (U.S.A.) for six years, and has been vicar general of the Marist Fa-thers since 1985. His address is: Padri Maristi; Via Alessandro Poerio, 63; 00152 Roma, Italy. There are many ways of describing what has happened in the last twenty-five years since Vatican II. Historians say that there has been a shakeout after each ecumenical council and that approximately twenty-five years are required for the spirit of a council to take root and bear its best fruit. Commentators on the development of religious life since Vatican II seem to concur in this. They now present this development in three stages: (1) the rigidity prior to Vatican II, (2) the immediate chaos after Vatican II, and (3) the current period of sober reassessment with its talk of refoun-dation. Some CARA consultants name these stages Paradigms I, II, and III. Vatican II was an effort in openness and aggiornamento. Its changes were radical. The council recognized the ecclesial reality of other Chris-tian religions, opened the way to dialogue with non-Christian religions, took a radically new position on religious freedom, realized the independ-ent goodness of the secular world, called for a renewal of the liturgy and of religious life, recognizing that through baptism the laity are called to the same degree of holiness as priests and religious. All very heady at the time, exhilarating and in many ways very posi-tive and productive. Vatican II brought the Church face-to-face with the world and urged it to view it in its glory as well as its weakness. I do not think anyone really wants to go back. But even Vatican II had its shadow side. One of its results was that Catholicism in general and re-ligious life in particular seemed less important. When personal con- 339 ~141~ / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 science was exalted, when sin and hell were deemphasized in favor of love and heaven, when the great enemies of Protestant theology were quoted side by side with Rahner and Lonergan, when many distinctions were blurred and the Catholic ghetto vanished--there was no longer a dragon to kill. Now, while enemies, distinctions, ghettos, and dragons are not always eminently desirable, they did provide one thing: identity. Their removal was a major r.ea.son why the principal question exercising the Church and religious congregations since Vatican II has been ad nau-seam the question of identity. What does it mean to be a Catholic, a re-ligious, a Jesuit, a Carmelite, a Marist? But the identity question had other nonecclesiastical sources. The post-Vatican II world found itself engulfed in a cultural upheaval which it did not cause. Religious congregations were not simply surrounded by a materialistic and skeptical culture, they were immersed in it. It had in-filtrated the convent walls. Tillard says that the failure of enthusiasm, passion, and wholeheartedness apparent in religious is rooted in a shift in belief, a hesitancy of faith. Walter Kasper has remarked that what we combat today is not only an external atheism, but an atheism within our own hearts. Cultural modernity has been analyzed and reanalyzed as the on-slaught of secularization. ~ It was as if in the second half of our century the Enlightenment had reached the masses. What up to the present were ideas of intellectuals, philosophers, and cranky atheists, now, due to bet-ter communication and general education, became the fabric of culture at large. The well-documentated cultural revolution which has been play-ing itself out since the 1960s seemed to be a quantitative expansion of ideas which had been around since the eighteenth century. But Paul Ricoeur underlines that the Enlightenment has passed through two distinct stages. We might even speak of a first and second Enlightenment, that of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries and the different one which began in the nineteenth and flowered in the twenti-eth century. Both began with doubt, methodic doubt, but the first went back to consciousness and found certitude, while the second in returning to con-sciousness found only suspicion. Descartes began by doubting everything methodically, but banished doubt because he believed we could find a place of certitude in consciousness. Even doubting was a form of think-ing, and the one thing I could .not doubt was that "I think." Cogito, ergo sum. At the center of consciousness was a source of clarity and dis-tinctness (les idles claires et distinctes), a way of banishing skepticism Religious Life and Modernity about the existence of the world or the truth of morality. Thus the first Enlightenment was characterized by an exaltation of the human subject and an overconfidence in a certain type of reason. Its champion was Kant, for whom the subject in the act of knowing became a partial crea-tor of the object known. But the second Enlightenment, grounded in Marx, Freud, and Nietzsche, was quite different. Commencing similarly with scientific me-thodical doubt, these thinkers also turned to the conscious and thinking subject but found there not a place of certitude but another ground for suspicion. For them human consciousness turned out to be a creator of illusions, the fabricator of masks, the great pretender. Consciousness it-self was in need of unmasking. This is the case especially when it con-cocts religions. Religion was the deception par excellence. It was an opium creating lassitude among oppressed peoples (Marx), it was a col-lective obsessive neurosis (Freud), it was a cover for a will to power pres-ent in the hearts of the weak and envious (Nietzsche). Leaving aside the fine nuance present in their systems, we can say that for these thinkers consciousness spins illusory language about God to hide what men and women really desire: sexual gratification, wealth, and power. This modern atheism, the atheism of consciousness as pretender, has with legitimacy been called a "beautiful" atheism. It has an ethical side and bears a moral, attraction. It is born of the desire to avoid masks and pretensions. The modem atheist is an atheist because he does not want to remain in a false consciousness. He wants to be honest; he does not want to tell a lie. The great modern drive, the drive of the second En-lightenment is to be authentic, not to worship an idol. For this reason, too, its geniuses Freud, Marx, and Nietzsche can present themselves as moralists. This is why Sartre can present belief in God as bad faith. Con-sciousness, in the second Enlightenment, is the escape artist, the artful dodger. Consciousness reaches salvation when it strives to catch itself at its own artifices. In light of this we can explain two moral phenomena which have oc-curred in our lifetime. First, the fact that, for many people of the twen-tieth century, hypocrisy became the great sin and sincerity the great vir-tue. (This has been documented by Lionel Trilling.) It was hypocrisy not to admit who and what you were. If you were gay, you must say it. If you were committing adultery, you must admit it. Being moral meant coming out of various closets. But unfortunately many people failed to ask the question whether acting out according to the instincts of these closets was good or bad. Some decided that anything was allowed as :342 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 long as you owned up to it. Others, plagued by a secret guilt, tried to have everyone approve whht they were doing privately; they wanted their private morality publicly sanctioned. The other phenomenon characteristic of the second Enlightenment was that contemporary thinkers were more interested in meaning than in truth. This explains the death of apologetics in the last twenty-five years. Hugo Meynell bemoans the fact that the last real apologist was C.S. Le-wis. Today, he complains, theologians are more concerned to show that Christianity is relevant. What floods the market is writing on the social and political implications of Christianity, or on its power to lead us to a fuller and more authentic personal life. Admitting the importance of such writing, he believes, nevertheless, that a serious apologetic which looks beyond meaning to truth is absolutely indispensable for the Church and that many of its present ills are due to a neglect of it. Without a proper apologetics, says Meynell, "the unbeliever is apt to infer that edu-cated Christians have really grasped the fact that social reform, political action, and psychic hygiene are that to which religious aspiration ought to be directed."2 Related to this move from truth to meaning is the fact that for the last twenty years seminarians, both religious and diocesan, have unchar-acteristically manifested a distaste for intellectual argument. Even some of the most intelligent tended to shun involvement in debates about the truth and falsity of moral positions or thorny dogmatic issues like the in-terpretation of the Resurrection, and were satisfied if they were con-vinced that a particular doctrine of the Church held some meaning for people. More and more religious showed up on the Myers-Briggs test as feelers and not thinkers. Brought up in an Enlightenment of suspicion, they suspected intestinally that the search for truth is impossible and that the different philosophies are simply a parade of ideologies with no cri-terion for discerning which is right and which is wrong. This is prob-ably the deep side of the vocation crisis among the youth of the second Enlightenment. If consciousness suspects its very self and its powers, how can it commit itself to anything for a long-term future? Ricoeur believes that we must face head-on what he calls the "her-meneutics of suspicion." We must take seriously its originators and think-ers and recognize their contribution. We cannot return to a primitive naivet6. But he also insists that we cannot remain in a state of denial, in a vacuum of truth, in mere negation; we must move to a second naivet6, we must move to a new place of affirmation. In order to do this we must not only respect the creators of suspicion but also question Religious Life and Modernity them. We must suspect the suspicioners and put them to the test. We must transcend the Enlightenment in both its phases. We will not achieve this by attempting to return to a consciousness conceived of as pure thought, to a thinking self which is sufficient unto itself apart from the world. For contemporary philosophy such a move is impossible. Consciousness can only be encountered as already in and of the world. The only way to discover what the human mind or human consciousness is like is through an examination of the works it has strewn in the world down the centuries, that is, through an examination of the institutions and documents of culture. Ricoeur bets that after such a re-flection the scandal of the cross will remain as much a scandal for mod-ern consciousness as it was for an earlier consciousness. He bets that the scandal of the cross will be discovered to be transcultural, a scandal not merely for humans in one stage of history, but for the human condition as such. For the modern age, theology's method has itself changed. We do not go immediately to the transcendent, to God, to the sacred and then try to relate God to the world. We find God through the world; we dis-cover the transcendent as the depth of the world. We seek an incarna-tional approach to eschatology and transcendence. We try to find God within the world as the Creative Moment therein, as the source without which justice and equality, as absolute moral imperatives, lack motiva-tion and a rational ground. The Enlightenment andthe Redefinition of Religious Life Whether we consider it in its first or second phase, the Enlighten-ment is marked by the same ideals, the dethroning of authority and tra-dition in favor of reason, free thought, and humanistic brotherhood. The ideals of both Enlightenments can be summarized most easily in the slo-gan of the French Revolution whose 200th anniversary we celebrated in 1989: liberty, fraternity, and equality. It was onto these very three ideals that religious life fastened almost in sequence after Vatican II in an effort to redefine itself, to forge a new identity. It had to deal with them as reinforced by the genius of Nietzsche, Freud, and Marx. Note that these ideals are mirror-imaged in the three vows and are in a sense the concern of the vows: (liberty) obe-dience, (fraternity) chastity, and (equality) poverty. The first of the Enlightenment ideals to make dramatic entrance into our culture and religious life was the ideal of personal or individual free-dom (its hero, Nietzsche). Never in a general culture had the notion "I want x" enjoyed such power as a reason for morally justifying an ac- ~144 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 tion. In an earlier climate of opinion, the fact that someone strongly de-sired something rendered suspect his or her opinion about it. In this ear-lier climate it was because an issue like abortion was so important that it could not be decided principally by the person who was subjectively involved. She could hardly have an objective viewpoint. But now it was precisely because an issue was so important that it must be left up to in-dividual choice. Major books have been written documenting and decry-ing this shift to individualistic freedom: Mclntyre's After Virtue, Allan Bloom's The Closing of the American Mind, and Robert Bellah's Habits of the Heart. Some of its critics distinguish between a liberal spirit which is admirable in its pursuit of discussion and exchange of ideas, and a lib-eral dogma which in its exaggerations is pernicious because it has not allowed us to build a community upon agreed societal values. Enlightenment freedom and its individualism invaded religious life in the 60s and early 70s. The major concern of seminarians and religious of that era was self-fulfillment and the idea that they could not be ful-filled unless they made their own choices about lifestyle and ministry. This was also the age when many seminarians refused to kneel down in chapel and to acknowledge any difference between themselves and their professors. Their slogan was that of the youth culture of the sixties: "Don't trust anyone over thirty!" Articles on religious obedience ap-pearing in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS at the time had less to do with the su-perior's authority as representing God or as the leader of a group engaged in a religious cause, than with how he or she should be a caring person or a listener attentive to the needs of community members. The second Enlightenment ideal used in the attempted redefinition of religious life was the ideal of fraternity interpreted as intimacy (its hero, Freud; its favorite book, Fromm's The Art of Loving). In the 70s fraternity came to the fore in the form of the need for intimacy and com-munity. Some felt that religion itself was a projection of affective needs. Everyone seemed sure that, without at least psychological sexual rela-tions, you could not really develop as a person. A good number left re-ligious life while they were still nubile in the conviction that the Church would soon wake up and change the rules. Others adopted what for a brief time was called the "third way," that is, remaining somewhat celi-bate while dating. All of this was later exacerbated by the gay movement and the inability of some to realize that, whatever one might think of ho-moerotic relations in general, all religious, whether homosexually or heterosexually oriented, had taken the same vow. Those who chose to remain and to keep the vows fought for a more Religious Life and Modernity / 345 fraternal and intimate form of community life and began using the word "sharing" as an intransitive verb. "Sharing" went on till the wee hours of the morning. "Thanks for sharing" and a big hug seemed to end every conversation, even a conversation in which a provincial had in no uncertain terms said, "No.t'' For all its positive aspects, this age of individualistic freedom and of fraternity/intimacy/community was "the era of the divided heart." It was a time, not entirely past, in which many of us, ~11 of us to some degree, were sidetracked, distracted, not completely present to the task, unhappy. For many religious, life became not so much a vocation as an avocation. They did good work and were not completely disinterested in the religious community, but their treasure, their compelling interest seemed to be elsewhere. They did not realize it at the time and cannot be blamed, but absorbed in themselves, jettisoning traditional practices without replacing them with new communal structures, they were sap-ping the energy of the group. It was in subconscious reaction to this drift that there appeared in re-ligious- life circles the talk about the need for a shared vision or a com-mon sense of mission. Much effort went into writing mission statements which everyone signed and accepted mutteringly in paraliturgical cere-monies. But there was an unexamined assumption in writing such mis-sion declarations, the assumption that everyone wanted a common vi-sion. Though there has always been a degree of pluralism and confusion in the Church, what seemed different now was that some religious seemed almost to welcome the confusion. They gave up the search for a shared vision not simply because it is hard to attain, but because in a deep sense they did not want one. It may be a hard saying, but I believe it is true that many of us, all of us to some degree, did not desire a true unity of mind and vision, at least not one which was set down in great detail, one which invaded and interfered with our life. The third ideal of the French Revolution and Enlightenment to enter religious life in the time of attempted redefinition was that of equality (its hero, Marx). It was the same ideal which gave rise to liberation the-ology and to the preferential option for the poor. It came strongly to the fore in the 80s. Beginning with the 33rd General Congregation of Jesu-its it thundered into religious life under the title of faith and justice. So-cial analysis and peace-and-justice committees soon became the vogue. Religious, male and female, left long-standing apostolates in education and hospitals and went to work among the poor and oppressed of both the third and first worlds. Soon the movement became involved with jus- 346 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 tice questions within the Church as well as the world, in the first as well as the third world. Now suddenly every question was interpreted princi-pally in terms of the power-equality schema. Everywhere there was talk of the need for assertiveness, the tactics of confrontation, the evil of pa-triarchy, the lucha de clases. Not just politics but a liberal politics was brought to the center of religion and religious life. At Boston College in 1984 the Jesuit historian John Padberg said, "It must be admitted that from a historical point of view many of the changes which have taken place in feminine religious communities do not derive from Vatican II, but from the secular feminist movement." I believe that these attempted redefinitions of religious life have all failed because religious have remained at a superficial level in thinking about freedom, fraternity, and equality. In their general thrust these new values are wonderful and exhilarating and are here to stay. But they must be retrieved in their Christian depth and meaning. Secularization and the Return of Religion We are in a polarization situation in the Church today, liberals against conservatives. This can be documented by reading any theologi-cal review or religious newspaper. Avery Dulles, in fact, discerns four quasi-ideologies in the Church, liberal, traditionalist, neoconservative, and radical.3 Signs of the resistance appear not only in a growing funda-mentalism in Church practice, but in the "postliberal" or "postmod-ern" stances in academic theology championed by men like Lindbeck, Huston Smith, and Stanley Hauerwas. The resistance is also apparent in the area of religious and priestly vocations. In the entire industrialized world it is the progressive orders which continue to experience a decline, while conservative congregations enjoy substantial increases. But what is not understood is that the very fact of the polarization has a religious meaning. It means that modernity cannot be understood as a single phenomenon of ongoing secularization. There is something else occurring. The evident resistance to a liberal secularism hints at the possibility of a great reversal, a move to a higher synthesis. Many have been willing to see a religious significance in seculariza-tion. They interpret it as the desire to be authentic, to be rid of idols, to avoid at all costs the telling of a lie. But is there not also a deep mean-ing to the liberal/conservative split and the rise of fundamentalism and neoconservatism? Is this not also a sign of the times? It seems simplistic to view the resistance to tendencies which have been the vogue since Vati-can II as a mere knee-jerk reaction, a neurotic flight to security in the face of a secularized world. The very fact of these countermovements Religious Life and Modernity / 347 has a religious sense. It reveals, among other things, that modern men and women still recognize the presence of mystery and transcendence and feel that without it liberty, fraternity, and equality remain superfi-cial and, in the end, stifling. In an article entitled "Can the West be Converted?" Leslie Newbigin, the famous Anglican missionary to India, asks: Can there be an effective missionary encounter with this culture--this so powerful, per-suasive, and confident culture which (at least until very recently) simply regarded itself as "the coming world civilization"? He bemoans as excessive the criticism of the nineteenth-century mis-sionary on the part of socially-minded Christians, and disagrees with drop-ping the term "foreign missions" in favor of "overseas ministries" or "cross-cultural ministry." Says Newbigin: "The contemporary embar~ rassment about the missionary movement of the previous century is not, as we like to think, evidence that we have become more humble. It is, I fear, much more clearly evidence of shift in belief. It is evidence that we are less ready to affirm the uniqueness, the centrality, the decisive-ness of Jesus Christ as universal Lord and Savior, the Way by following whom the world is to find its true goal, the Truth by which every other claim to truth is to be tested, the Life in whom alone life in its fullness is to be found."4 Instead of weighing the Christian religious experience in the scale of reason as our culture understands reason, let us suppose, says Newbigin, that the Gospel is true; that, in the story of the Bible and in the life and death and resurrection of Jesus, the Creator and Lord of the universe has actually manifested himself to declare and effect his pur-pose; and that, therefore, everything else, including all the actions and assumptions of our culture, has to be assessed and can only be validly assessed in the scales which this revelation provides. What would it mean if, instead of trying to understand the gospel from the point of view of our culture, we tried to understand our culture from the point of view of the gospel? Rabbi Abraham Heschel said something similar when addressing theo-logians at a conference on the future of theology: "It has always seemed puzzling to me how greatly attached to the Bible you seem to be and yet how much like pagans you handle it. The great challenge to those of us who wish to take the Bible seriously is to let it teach us its own essential categories; and then for us to think with them, instead of just about them."5 Something new is stirring, something new striving to be born. A sig- 3411 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 nificant group of theologia.ns is reaching for a postliberal stance which might feed the hunger for truth and a deeper meaning which exists in America. Professor Huston Smith puts it as follows: "While the West's 'brain,' which for present purposes we can equate with the modern uni-versity, rolls ever further down the reductionistic path, other centers of society--our emotions, for example, as they find expression through our artists and our wills. --protest. These other centers of ourselves feel they are being dragged, kicking and screaming, down an ever-darken-ing tunnel."6 The first world turns to suicide, drugs, and hooliganism because of a lack of meaning in the lives of its members. Culture is the meaning system of society. According to some sociologists, religion is the deep-est aspect of that meaning system. But the religion which remains in West-ern society is impoverished. The religion of our secularized cultures is highly intellectualized, pared down, devoid of mystery and passion. Mys-teries are embarrassments and explained away reductively. Modern churches look like banks. In many Catholic churches statues of saints are either banished or shrunken to stand sheepishly in shadowy corners. Lit-tle remains of the sense of an invisible reality beyond the material one, of a grand communion of saints, of Blake's "infinity in a grain of sand" and "eternity in an hour." And what has sprung up in the desert of modernity? The so-called "pipeline religion" of charismatics and Pentecostals, a revival of an emo-tional type of prayer with a need for a personal attachment to Jesus ex-pressed emotionally and publicly, the ministry of healing in sum, the desire for a backdrop to life, a deeper dimension, an invisible world; the need once again to feel that God is near and that we are able to commune with him; the need for a God who is transcendent as well as immanent. We desire the divine face of Jesus as well as the human face of God. The pendulum swings of the Christological debates of the early Church are again in evidence. The third redefinition of religious life in terms of equality and jus-tice is an improvement over the first two redefinitions in terms of liberty and fraternity, especially where these are interpreted as individualistic freedom and a sentimentalized intimacy/community. Individualism can-not form community. Nor can we religious be merely intimiste in our spiri-tuality. We cannot be satisfied with simply voicing our affections of love toward others or even for the Lord. Love must be active, social, and even political. Christians cannot concentrate solely on their own salvation whether earthly or celestial. "What would the Lord say," asked Char- Religious Life and Modernity / 349 les P6guy, "if we go to him without all the others?" On the other hand, this third effort to redefine ourselves and discover a lost identity was (is) in some ways more seductive, more liable to be-come an idol, for in itself it is strongly rooted in the Gospel and demands great sacrifice. The quest for social justice is "a constitutive part" of the Gospel, says an oft-quoted text of the 1971 Synod of Bishops. But it, too, has its shadow side. It was an improvement because it took the focus off of the individual subject, the I, but it was not sufficient because it replaced the individual subject with another earthly subject, the spe-cies subject, Marx's Gattungswesen, or with a part of society, the poor, the oppressed of the human species. To define religious life principally in terms of social justice is to make the Marxian move of replacing re-ligion with the need to foster a truly socialized man and woman. While fear of idolatry caused men of earlier ages to set God above the world and beyond all images, the danger of idolatry returns a hun-dredfold when we look for him within the bowels of the world. Some will call this double-talk and say they will have nothing to do with liberation, equality, compassion, and the betterment of people. But such a conclusion does not follow from what I am saying. Just the oppo-site is true. Unless we live in light of the truth that the world belongs to God and that its primary duty is to praise him in gratitude for what has been given, we cannot even begin to construct a world of justice. Unless we see that God is first and creator and that the human is second and created, we cannot find any basis for human equality or for treating everyone with justice and care. Evolutionists turned philosophers say that humans are equal only by the accident that a group of beings with about the same size brain flow-ered at a certain period of time. As a result these thinkers can find no ground for the moral imperative of justice. Such an imperative appears only when and if we view humans as having a relationship to an Abso-lute whose essence is Love. Humans have a dignity not because they hap-pen to have a complex brain which gives them a kind of free will, but because they are loved and because the very meaning of their being is to love as the Father loves. As Martin Buber has said, whoever makes freedom the primary characteristic of humans is blind to the real nature of human existence which is "being sent and a being commissioned."7 It is because God's love for us does not rise out of a personal need but is gratuitous, that the universe has meaning and that social justice is an imperative. In this discovery we will find true freedom. For the God of the absolute future is a God of plenitude who does not enslave nor ~150 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 brook enslavement. Contemporary thinkers are obsessed by the thought that dualisms must be overcome at all cost, that all distinctions must be leveled, the natural and the supernatural, laity and clergy, Church and world. In this same vein, because of the doctrine that all are called to the same degree of holiness in baptism, they tend to believe that the distinction between laity and religious cannot ultimately be maintained. But in counteract-ing dualisms we must be careful not to submerge certain important dis-tinctions. There may be other distinctions between religious life and lay life which are .not connected with the call to holiness shared in baptism. Religious, I believe, are called to a different kind of separation from the world. Religious must be not above or beyond the world, nor seek to escape its toils. BUt yes, their life must be distinct and separate by tak-ing up the very different lifestyle of a pilgrim as did the apostles, not remaining at home but accompanying Jesus on the way. Again, if a religious must be a prophet, as many commentators urge, then he or she must be different from others in the way that a prophet is different from those to whom he or she prophesies. The prophet is one who shows the way. Religious must teach by their life that all Christians must be in the world but not of the world, that their greatness will not spring from surrender to the values of the world. Without a distinction between religious and laity the significance and identity of a truly Chris-tian laity may also be in danger of being lost. Something new is being born: a higher synthesis. It will consist es-sentially in a rewinning for human consciousness the sense of the tran-scendent and a new understanding of what is meant by a separation from the world. The problem of the third world is poverty; the problem of the first world is paganism. The third world retains the sense of the transcen-dent, though the embrace may at times be cluttered with emotion and su-perstitions and not translate into social action. The first world has in many cases simply given up the embrace. And in doing so it finds no adequate ground for love of neighbor, enemy, or stranger. Earlier spirituality taught that only in recognizing God's sovereignty can we avoid pride. It is through the same recognition that we will be-come compassionate and work for justice. True kenosis lies in the reali-zation that all humans--poor or rich, woman or man, ourselves or oth-ers- are of secondary importance. What is of prime importance is be-yond. But the God beyond sends us back to the world whose inhabitants he loves unconditionally as individual persons and as societies. He places upon us the moral imperative of justice and the command of love. Religious Life and Modernity Through a relationship with the Lord established in prayer, the extent of our task as Christians will be revealed. In transcendence we will redis-cover immanence. Modernity and its religious need again to ponder the words of the psalmist: "In your light we shall see light." NOTES I In support of a minority dissenting position, see Andrew Greeley and Michael Hout, "The secularisation myth," The Tablet, June 10, 1989, pp. 665-667. 2 "Faith and Reason," The Tablet, March I 1, 1989, p. 276. 3 See "Catholicism and American Culture," America, January 27, 1990, pp. 54- 59. 4 International Bulletin of Missionary Research, April 1988, p. 51. 5 Quoted by Prof. Albert Outler, "Toward a Post-liberal Hermeneutics," Theology Today, October 1985, p. 290. 6 Toward the Post-Modern Mind (Crossroad, 1982), p. 25. 7 Martin Buber, The Eclipse of God (Harper and Row, 1962), p. 69. A Celibate Dialogues with God I asked God: "Must I be my last and only word? Will this who-I-am be heard no more when I am dead? Who will know what I have said? Who will weave my melody into their song or hum at least my harmonies along with theirs? Who will? Who will?" And God said: "Peace. Be still." Irene Zimmerman, S.S.S.F. 3601 South 41 Street Milwaukee, Wl 53221 Focus: The Mission William F. Hogan, C.S.C. Father William Hogan, C.S.C., wrote "Chapters and Structures" for our issue of January/February 1989. His address remains Fratelli Cristiani; Via della Maglian-ella 375; 00166 Roma, Italy. Mission is the most written about concept in religious institutes and it sets the tone of most revised constitutions. Furthering the mission of Jesus in today's world has provided the framework for renewal programs and processes in communities of the consecrated life. The concerns that pre-occupy us affect our lives in many ways, providing an overall orienta-tion for judgments, the determination of choices, the perception of life and reality, the measurement of problems. And yet, all too often con-cern for the mission is not carried over into the nitty-gritty of daily life; we can find in ourselves a gap between the intellectual approach to mis-sion and what motivates our actual responses in concrete situations. Con-tradictions can abound in our human persons! The morale of many religious today is deeply affected by dwindling numbers, aging, and the lack of new members to carry on the life and work. Some give in to discouragement and the tendency to pull in on self; survival looms as a major concern and the scope of vision becomes quite narrow. Surely the Lord does not want a yielding to inclinations along this line because they are contrary to the tenor of the Gospel, which would focus our attention with largeness of heart and vision on the mis-sion of Jesus and the call to live, be, and do in response to the mission today, no matter what. The Christian must be an apostolic person in all the phases and situations of life with their ups and downs. It is understandable that there be a human reaction of preoccupation with self-preservation and self-survival, given the innate drive for the self 352 Focus: The Mission / 353 to live on and the desire to continue a form of life in which one believes. At the same time we must confront within ourselves some very real is-sues, the most basic of which centers around whose mission it is we are called to serve. This is the struggle of God and the "me," the struggle with which we have to cope in one way or another all through life, the struggle of sinfulness. "Your thoughts are not my thoughts, nor my ways your ways" (Is 55:8). What does our God seem to be asking of religious today, especially in institutes that appear to be dying? It surely is not pious platitudes: "God's will"; "God will provide"; "History will repeat itself"; "It happened before." While it may be hard to read what is happening, we can surmise a few points about basic attitudes to which the Lord may be calling us. Most basic of these is to expand our vision beyond our own religious institutes to see how the Spirit is active in the birthing of so many new forms of consecration for mission. Despite secularism and other "isms"--perhaps because of them--our times are seeing all kinds of new Christian community foundations with a variety of time-tested and new elements. We are living in an era as rich as the nineteenth cen-tury, as far as new religious ventures are concerned, although the em-phasis on some aspects of consecration may differ. In many parts of the world the Spirit is pouring forth founding charisms on individuals to wit-ness to Christ in discipleship in new ways. In some instances there are blends of various long-standing spiritual traditions; others are different combinations of the monastic and actively apostolic; still others would appear to be revivals of forms that have passed out of existence over the centuries; some are entirely new. One can look at the community movements springing up and won-der why these people do not simply join already existing religious con-gregations that are in need of new members in order to continue. And we just cannot find adequate answers on a human level. It is not enough to say that today's individuals want less structure because some of the emerging groups are very highly structured. Nor can one merely explain that people want to be unencumbered, free of age-old traditions and in-stitutionalism, since many are deeply rooted in traditions and some have picked up practices that religious congregations have laid aside. Is it the attraction of the new? Who knows? What is important is to have a vi-sion that embraces what the Spirit of God is doing to further the mission of Jesus in our age. If all disciples of Christ are people of mission, the challenge is to keep one's attention on the accomplishment of the mis-sion and not just one's own particular part in it. The glory of God Review for Religious, May-June 1991 through the restoration of creation in Christ is what matters and not how we think we are glorifying God. We are face-to-face with the issue of whose mission this is, God's or ours, and whether we have fallen into the trap of overestimating the importance of our own role in the mission. A breadth of vision is needed, with the focal point being Christ and the continuation of Christ's message and work. We share in that work; we witness to Christ's person and message. The continuation of the mission is what counts, not so much who accomplishes it. Religious today may find themselves in a situation somewhat analo-gous to some incidents described in the Bible: Now two men, one named Eldad and the other Medad, were not in the gathering but had been left in the camp. They too had been on the list, but had not gone out to the tent; yet the spirit came to rest on them also, and they prophesied in the camp. So, when a young man quickly told Moses, "Eldad and Medad are prophesying in the camp," Joshua, son of Nun, who from his youth had been Moses' aide, said, "Moses, my lord, stop them." But Moses answered him, "Are you jea.lous for my sake? Would that all the people of the Lord were prophets! Would that the Lord might bestow his spirit on them all!" (Nb 11:26-29). John said to him, "Master, we saw a man who is not one of us cast-ing out devils in your name; and because he was not one of us we tried to stop him." But Jesus said, "You must not stop him: no one who works a miracle in my name is likely to speak evil of me. Anyone who is not against us is for us" (Mk 9:38-40). If God was giving them the same gift he gave us when we first be-lieved in the Lord Jesus Christ, who am I to impede the action of God? (Ac 11:17). Perhaps individuals experience pain when they see others in search of values in new groups and it appears that the ideals are the same that they themselves are trying to live. Yet the attention must be on Christ and ful-fillment of his plan now, what is needed for the mission now, and not on one's own pain. Granted that this is easier said than done, but we must keep trying to be conscious of the mission that is the very reason for our being. Our faith would tell us that the Lord is very much present in the cur-rent situation, though not necessarily in the way that we would like the Lord to be present, that is, according to our desires and plans. And that is another aspect of what God is asking of religious today: to find him present in the decline as much as in the previous rise in religious life. This entails hope, defined in the dictionary as desire joined with the ex- Focus: The Mission pectation of getting what is desired. The "what is desired," however, constitutes a problem area. Most religious say that they hope there will be a resurgence of vocations to their institutes and they frequently wit-ness to their words through intense prayer for vocations, both in personal prayer and in petitions during the Prayers of the Faithful at Eucharistic celebrations and the liturgy of the hours. Christian hope must be founded on the person of Jesus Christ, whose power gives us the basis for expectations to be fulfilled. Jesus' mission/ kingdom are inseparable from his person and to hope in him touches upon his mission and his ways of bringing it about rather than our own projections of what the mission demands according to our viewpoints-- in particular, the preservation of our particular religious institutes. We hope, but in what way'?. In total openness to God's ways? Genuine hope involves a finding of the Lord present in situations that may lead to a cer-tain type of dying; hope in the Lord may mean a letting go of some of our desires and false hopes, and even of any panicky types of prayer for vocations. Now is a time for deep inner calm founded on the Lord Jesus who is at work among his people, accomplishing the mission, though our vision be obscured through personal suffering over the decline of reli-gious life. Not resignation, but a lively hope in the Lord! How frequently the Word of God calls us to wait on the Lord in a spirit of peace, "singing the favors of the Lord" even when we feel weighed down with concerns. The Lord's time and way so often are not our times, ways, and vision; thus he challenges us to a patient engaging trust in him, as he did Habakkuk of old: Write down the vision clearly upon the tablets, so that one can read it readily. For the vision still has its time, presses on to fulfillment, and will not disappoint; if it delays, wait for it, it will surely come, it will not be late (Hab 2:2-3). This waiting in patience is not passive, for it demands a struggle for faith in and openness to God's ways in the accomplishment .of the mission. And it charges us to keep on going in what we are living, giving, and doing and not to pull into self, overwhelmed by feelings of discourage-ment. The blindness of faith and surrender to the Lord's way are invoked by waiting on the Lord. St. Therese of Lisieux described herself as a little ball: "You [God] throw me to someplace in a corner; maybe ten years later you pick me up again." Catherine de Hueck Doherty mentions in her writings a starets who said that we should be like rag dolls that can be picked up 356 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 by the hand, foot, or head, thrown in the bushes, hugged, thrown in the toy box. These figures of speech point to the self-emptying at the heart of waiting on the Lord--the painful surrenders to go the Lord's way and not our own, holding on in faith as we try to let go of our ways and yield to the divine ways. It is a movement to selflessness with conviction that God knows what he is doing, even when it is beyond our comprehen-sion. Human solutions to problems and techniques for attracting possible vocations are important, but none are miraculous. There is no mystical, magical solution for the vocational crisis in religious institutes. No mat-ter what human avenues and approaches are pursued, we must look to the basic point of attitudes our God wants of us now: faith; largeness of vision of the mission and how it is being realized today and by whom it is being promoted; and awareness that the Lord is calling us to a kenosis beyond what we have experienced in the recent past. And all of this would appear to be part of the divine plan for greater growth in open-ness to God's ways. The alternative prayer for the fourth Sunday of Eas-ter expresses it powerfully: God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, though your people walk in the valley of darkness, no evil should they fear; for they follow in faith the call of the shepherd whom you have sent for their hope and strength. Attune our minds to the sound of his voice, lead our steps in the path he has shown, that we may know the strength of his outstretched arm and enjoy the light of your presence for ever. We ask this in the name of Jesus the Lord. Participative Leadership for Refounding: Reflections Gerald A. Arbuckle, S.M. Father Arbuckle is well known to many of our readers around the world for his arti-cles, books, and workshops. His address: Catholic Theological Union; ! Mary Street; Hunters Hill, Sydney, N.S.W.; Australia 2110. Refounding is the process whereby an apostolic congregation, under the inspiration and leadership of creatively pastoral people, relates the Gos-pel message to the critically challenging problems within contemporary cultures (for example, secularism and injustice) according to the spirit of the original founding vision. ~ These imaginative people cannot emerge and act, however, if their officially appointed congregational leadership team fails to realize its primary function: to foster an atmosphere condu-cive to pastoral creativity within the religious community. I believe that the decision-making processes of the leadership team that aim to facilitate refounding must be based on the principles of parti-cipative (or collaborative) leadership. However, considerable confusion can exist about precisely what is meant by participative government. In this article I seek to clarify what is meant by "participative lead-ership for refounding." I concentrate on the dynamics of participative leadership within the officially appointed congregational leadership teams at the provincial and general levels. By extension, what I say of the participative process within these teams will apply mutatis mutandis to all other congregational leadership groups. Leadership for Refounding: Clarifying the Model Two relevant models of administrative style can be distinguished-- the "mechanistic" and the "organic"; they differ according to the pur- 357 Review for Religious, May-June 1991 pose for which an organization exists.2 In the mechanistic style, the tasks of the organization are considered predictable or unchanging. The organi-zation is characterized by many rules and regulations; the leadership's role is to make sure that these long-established and neatly set-out rules of operation are being followed. Creativity is discouraged because it threatens a predictable way of acting. Thus, the mechanistic style of lead-ership is totally unsuited to a world of change. Within the Church, the methods of evangelization and pastoral care changed little over several centuries prior to Vatican II. The world had to adapt to the Church, not vice versa. The administrative style of the ecclesiastical and religious congregations had become mechanistic. Re-cently I reviewed the provincial-chapter decrees of an apostolic male cleri-cal congregation from 1894 to 1956. Never at any point is there refer-ence to the need for pastoral creativity; instead the emphasis is on con-trol through the maintenance of detailed discipline rules. For example, in the decrees of 1900, phrases like "the present Chapter reasserts the prohibition against." are commonplace. Little wonder that our pastoral administrators failed to take note of the emergence of the urban/factory working class in the nineteenth cen-tury. Pastoral care remained predictably and "pleasantly" rural in ori-entation. Not surprisingly, the vast majority of this often oppressed class became alienated from the Church and continue to remain so. The second style of administration is organic. There are few rules and regulations in the organization. The emphasis is on constant inno-vation, creativity, and evaluative feedback because the marketplace de-mands an ever-increasing variety of new products, devices, and designs. The leadership fosters in the organization a participative atmosphere in which people feel they can create and be supported by other members in the group. Decision making is primarily proactive rather than reactive or crisis solving. By this we mean that organic administrations are "an-ticipative people," that is, they see change coming and then begin to plan and discuss different ways to adapt to it. They begin to create and control change rather than succumb to it.3 Organic-oriented leadership is founded on six assumptions. First, the process of creativity and innovation is a generally very messy one, be-cause it is a human activity that "involves the personalities, emotions, and quirks of many creative people. It does not always work cleanly; it does not always work well; it certainly does not usually work effi-ciently.' ,4 Second, leadership teams need space and time in which to ponder Participative Leadership / 359 over the implications of the information coming .to them. If leaders do not have this sacred space and time, they will, without realizing it, re-gress to an authoritarian style of leadership. Today congregational lead-ership, especially at the provincial level, must carry unprecedented bur-dens. For example, as a consequence of the inevitable contemporary "re-ligious- life chaos," congregational leadership must be involved in press-ing maintenance issues, such as the closing of houses because of the de-cline in membership and the development of new ministries, the pastoral care of religious who are confused by the chaos within and outside re-ligious life, and the finding of finances to cover health and retirement costs. At the same time they must be giving priority to the future of the congregation, its mission, new and creative responses. If congregational leadership is not ruthlessly careful, it will be exhausted with maintenance demands. Creativity space will be choked out. Third, because the organization exists to respond to the needs of a rapidly changing world, the communication about these needs and the creative responses to them must be fast, two-way, and accurate. The lead-ership team is concerned to get the right information at the right time and to pass it on to the people who need it, to get the message understood and acted upon. Fourth, the temptation to spend an excessive amount of time on analy-sis of the information being received must be resisted. Organizations can become so caught up in more and more analysis and information gather-ing that they become paralyzed. On the other hand, paralysis can also develop if organizations are consistently rushing into decision making without sufficient research and information. Creative risk takers become deenergized not only with excessive, introverted meetings and analysis, but also by having to interact with groups that constantly fail to listen to reality.5 In whatever way group paralysis occurs, we have a recipe for organizational suicide. Fifth, even the most creative leadership teams can develop middle-life weariness. They can lose their drive and enthusiasm and adopt a mechanistic leadership style; they fall victim to the deadly temptation to spend their time solving the problems of yesterday rather than anticipat-ing the challenges of tomorrow. Bureaucracy, red tape, and complacency are the symptoms of this mortal disease.6 Sixth, organizations that have become bureaucratic, inward-looking, or unresponsive to changing needs can only be refounded if their leadership is prepared to adopt the organic style. The resistance to change and to creative persons, however, could be so great that the pro- 3130 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 cess of refounding is impossible. The leadership team is powerless. But the team should not lightly surrender to resistance---on the other hand, ,the real obstacles to refounding may well be within the leadership group itself. Seventh, every leadership team needs skills for interpreting what is happening within its own group and within the wider society it seeks to serve. If a team is unable to be honest and courageous enough to reflect on the strengths and weaknesses of its own interrelationships, it will re-main insensitive to what is taking place within the wider organizational culture.7 Organic Leadership Style and Religious Life Apostolic religious congregations exist to minister to the changing pastoral needs of people and cultures.8 An essential reason for their ex-istence is that they be bold in apostolic initiatives.9 This ministry de-mands an organic leadership style in congregational administrations. 10 The Ignatian discernment method of coming to decisions is a form of the organic leadership style. The organic style finds support in the approach of St. Paul to evangel-ization. While there must be respect for the unchanging values of the teaching of Jesus Christ, there must be an openness to the use of the di-verse girls of people in preaching the Good News: "Now Christ's body is yourselves, each of you with a part to play in the whole" (1 Co 12:27). Paul lists the girls in order of importance. After the apostles (and their successors) came prophets (v.28). The prophets, whose distinguishing qualities are spelled out by Paul in writing to the Galatians (5:22), are the imaginative and creative persons within the Church (and religious con-gregations). Their role is to challenge Gospel communities constantly to develop new ways to preach the Good News to the world of today. Paul assumes that leaders of Christian communities must allow authentic proph-ets and pastorally creative persons to emerge and function. There is nothing nonincarnational, stuffy, bureaucratic, or mecha-nistic about Paul's thinking. Achieving Organic Leadership: Practical Guidelines If religious leadership teams are to have an organic leadership style, they must: 1. Formulate a clear team vision of goals and strategies. If a team does not know what it is aiming for, it will be equally fuzzy about what it should be doing; personal and group energy will dissipate Participative Leadership / 361 on minutiae or nonessential issues. The forming of a vision of realistic goals and the strategies to achieve them is at first sight deceptively simple. The formulation of practical strategies, for example, demands precise thinking and forecasting as well as making commitments involving others; most superiors are not accus-tomed to viewing the process in this way. ~ 2. Be aware of differing forms of participative leadership. The participative approach means that all team members share in the decision-making process. They do this in various ways, for example: dis-cussion leads to consensus or a majority vote or after consultation of mem-bers or their free offer of advice, the team leader or a delegated member decides. The preference is the first option: full involvement in decision mak-ing through consensus. However, there must be flexibility. The group should learn what option is the most appropriate at a given time. For ex-ample, the urgency for decision and action may allow only the last op-tion, that is, a decision made by the one with the most authority. Deci-sion making through consensus normally takes considerable time. Canon law and congregational constitutions do prescribe that some matters be decided, for example, by the major superior with the consent or advice of other members of the leadership team. If lengthy or wide consultation or majority voting is made the unchanging rule, then decisions may never be made and the urgent apostolic needs are left unattended. The conse-quence is that an organic style of leadership is turned into an oppressive mechanistic one. Decision making through consensus needs to be carefully under-stood. By consensus is meant that all parties agree what the decision should be and feel that they have been thoroughly involved at all stages. However, if consensus decision making is pursued at all costs, that is, if it is made into a rigid ideology, then points of conflict and disagree-ment are forced underground. If these issues remain unattended to, then all kinds of unresolved negative feelings or hurts will haunt the group and threaten to split it apart. The same danger exists if the majority vot-ing option is pushed through too quickly, because then disagreements and differences of opinion also remain unresolved. Pseudoconsultation is to be ruthlessly avoided; this involves the il-lusion of participation without the substance. Decisions have already been made by leaders, but other team members are then "consulted to keep them happy." There is no intention of changing the original deci-sions. This leads to disillusionment, disaffection, and cynicism. 362 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 I find that major superiors can unwittingly raise false expectations within their leadership teams (and within their province or congregation) simply by failing to specify the particular form of participation they ex-pect at a particular time. Sometimes the word "collegiality" is used interchangeably with "participative government," but this can also cause needless confusion. Strictly speaking, collegiality connotes a particular relationship between the college of bishops and the pope. The term can be applied to religious life only with extreme care. Collegiality has come to be synonymous with "participatory democracy," which assumes that in all decisions every member of a team o.r province must be fully acquainted with every detail and that decision making must be always according to the major-ity vote. 12 Collegial government in religious life, that is, where all mem-bers have equal rights in decision making by law, exists only at general and provincial chapters. 3. Adhere to subsidiarity. Whatever individuals or committees of councilors are able to do for themselves ought not to be removed from their competence and taken over by other people, for example, major superiors. Canon law or. the constitution will set out precisely those decisions that must be made by the major superior with the consent or consultation of the council. In other matters he or she can lawfully delegate authority to congregational team members. I find, however, that subsidiarity fails to work whenever team mem-bers are unsure precisely who has the delegated authority or authoriza-tion. Team members and the province or congregation as a whole must know who has the right to make decisions and takes responsibility for them. Secondly, when the major superior attempts to take back the author-ity without justification or when other team members try to interfere, un-necessary frustration occurs. Team members feel used, irrelevant, and deenergized as persons and leaders within the community. One practical consequence of adhering to the principle of subsidiarity is that great care must be taken to see that the agendas for congregational team meetings be carefully screened. No matter should come to team meetings that can and should be dealt with at lower levels. If this screen-ing does not take place, the team is back to the limitations of participa-tory- democracy procedures. They become bogged down by irrelevant mi-nutiae, and the critically important issues for team consideration become crowded out. Participative Leadership 4. Delegate maintenance tasks. Remember that the primary role of congregational leadership teams is to challenge their religious communities to face the realities of the fu-ture. They cannot even begin this task if they are constantly burdened at meetings with maintenance and personnel issues. This is not to deny the pastoral importance of such issues, but merely to highlight the key function of leadership teams. As far as possible, the maintenance requirements of congregations must be delegated to others. This will demand of leaders a ruthless self-discipline to prevent them from becoming smothered in maintenance prob-lems. Without such self-discipline there can be no congregational fu-ture. ~ 3 5. Be accountable. Every team member must be accountable for his or her performance to the group and through the majo.r superior and team to the whole prov-ince or congregation. But a warning: If delegation is working effectively, then the amount of material being made available to other members of the council or team for the sake of accountability should be controlled; otherwise they will again be swamped within a paper jungle. Leadership teams must be alert to the fact that they can easily be-come trapped in their own busyness so that they have no idea where they are going or what is really important, and end up experiencing rather than inventing the future. Busyness is apt to lull leaders into thinking that their decisions are relevant when in fact the opposite is the reality. 6. Understand and use power. Though power is a commonly used word, it is nonetheless frequently misunderstood. However, it is critically important to grasp its meaning and its various types because the failure to do so can frustrate the work of a congregational team's involvement in the refounding process. Power is the ability to influence the values and behavior of the or-ganizations or cultures in which we find ourselves. Structural power de-rives from the roles that we officially hold in an organization, for exam-ple, congregational leader or team member. Functional power derives from the skill we use within a group, for example, the skill of animation or coriamunication; personal power derives from our personality.14 Again recall that the primary task of a congregational team commit-ted to the refounding process is that of finding, empowering, and sup-porting the right people. On their own team and in the province or con-gregation they serve, these persons must be enabled tO create, not made 364 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 to devise elaborate controls to make less creative or resilient persons do what they should be doing. This requires that the congregational team, first, use its functional and personal power to find the right people and empower them to act and, second, use its structural power to open up the congregational struc-tures to allow the creative persons to operate without unnecessary inter-ference from other sections of the leadership team or the congregation or province as a whole. In brief, a creative team allows for and fosters the "pastorally in-novative eccentric." This may even mean applying the axiom "The new belongs elsewhere," which I have described at length in a recent book. ~5 That is, through the application of structural power, the team establishes structures that permit the "innovative eccentrics" to act without having to be accountable to a large number of people for what they are doing. The leadership team assumes the initiative of explaining to others the na-ture and progress of the creative pastoral project, thus allowing the in-novative people to concentrate on their new apostolic ventures. 7. Foster team trust. Congregational leadership groups must learn to see themselves as teams, not as a set of individuals. On a team, members are aware of each other's strengths and weaknesses; they aim to act in a manner which uses their individual diversity to serve the group. The group needs to ask itself three questions if it is to assess the qual-ity of its teamwork: (1) Does the group have the necessary skills and struc-tures to work together cooperatively and effectively? (2) If the team has not the necessary skills, can it develop them or should it seek them from outsiders? (3) Does the group have the attitudes, values, and norms that foster the required skills and support the required structures? If members do not trust one another, they will communicate inadequately. They will hold back information, thus weakening the quality of the team's deci-sion making. Maybe such lack of trust comes from conflict or the fear of it. Yet conflict is unavoidable even on the best teams. Members should npt try to hide it, but should try to recognize its causes and develop methods of resolving it. Robert Bolton distinguishes between the emotional and the substantive dimensions of conflict. The former include anger, distrust, defensiveness, fear, and resentment. Substantive dimensions involve con-flicting needs, disagreements over policies and practices, and divergent views of roles and the uses of resources. These substantive issues can-not be resolved until the emotional aspects are faced up to; the team may Participative Leadership / 365 require an outside facilitator for this to take place. 16 Members need to realize that the primary concern of team building is not the individual needs of the group's members, but the welfare of the congregation and the Church it serves. Members can become so con° cerned to achieve collaboration and cohesion that these qualities become not a means but an end in themselves. The team style then changes from an organic to a mechanistic one, and a rigid conformity to rules of unity predominates. The creativity of individual team members is then stifled or crushed. This is what William G. Dyer means when he writes: "Crea-tivity is often at odds with the conditions that foster collaboration. It is possible to increase team work while inhibiting creativity, which seems to stem from the less fettered individual.''~7 8. Nurture group life humanly and spiritually. A task-oriented congregational team expends considerable energy. Unless individuals and the group have space and time to restore this en-ergy, problems develop: bickering, excessive tiredness, poor concentra-tion, and individual and group burnout. Organizational and leadership culture must, then, be cared for if ap-ostolic effectiveness is to be maintained and grow. The group can revi-talize its own energies in a variety of ways. The options chosen will de-pend on what the group enjoys doing. One team, for example, may en-joy a regular meal together well away from their place of meeting; an-other team may receive energy through open-ended discussion on par-ticular topics. A group that has fun together is more likely to be a group that can stay and work together.18 As a top priority the spiritual life of the group needs nurturing. When the members are unable to share in prayer their faith experiences, they will lack the inner freedom for honesty and openness. I have seen the energy of individuals and groups rise with extraordinary rapidity as a con-sequence of members sharing their reflections on scriptural passages. Shar-ing cannot be pushed; it grows under the power of the Holy Spirit as mem-bers become more comfortable with one another and with the presence o~ the Lord in their midst. 9. Be flexible with meeting styles. Meetings need variety. Formal meetings, namely, regular team gath-erings that have agendas in advance, are essential. But, since these gen-erally are not the occasions for inspiration and energy-creating interac-tion, from time to time there should be team meetings with no detailed and set agendas. At these informal meetings the group could benefit from 366 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 a clear and simple process of critical self-reflection. Questions like the following could be used: How do you think the team is working together? Are our objectives being realized? Do the objectives need sharpening? Do individual members want to share the major concerns of their depart-ments? These gatherings become a mixture of sharing worries and suc-cesses, of.dreaming about the future of the province or congregation, of brainstorming about strategies. lO. Implement reality-testing sessions. A congregational team, like any human group, can lose touch with reality--for many reasons. For example, the group may become so anx-ious about the difficulties it faces in its leadership task that it uncon-sciously denies and represses much reality and so ignores it in its deci-sion making. To forestall such an eventuality, the team desperately needs regular reality-testing sessions: Are the usual staying-in-touch methods still working? Have they outlived their usefulness? Are they blocking the flow of information in and out of the group? Are members of the team continuing to listen to and communicate with one another? Have barri-ers developed between members? This can be a thoroughly uncomfort-able exercise, but without it much well-intentioned apostolic energy can dissipate. 19 Conclusion We read that the early Christian communities were "united, heart and soul; no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, as ev-erything they owned was held in common" (Ac 4:32). This aptly de-scribes what congregational leadership teams should strive to be like, plac-ing their possessions--their talents and their skills--at the service of the team and the congregation, making that effort even if it be painful. Such unity is achievable only if the efforts of the team members are earthed in the power of Christ's resurrection (see Ac 4:33). It is only through resurrection love that members can learn to find "joy in the truth., to make allowances, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes" (1 Co 13:7). Then there will be an organic, flexible style of lead-ership within congregational teams, and it will be apostolically energiz-ing for all who experience it.2° NOTES ~ See G.A. Arbuckle, Out of Chaos: Refounding Religious Congregations (New York: Paulist Press, 1988), pp. 88-135, and Earthing the Gospel: An Inculturation Participative Leadership / 367 Handbook for the Pastoral Worker (London: Geoffrey Chapman; Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books, 1990), chap. 12. 2 See T. Burns and G.M. Stalker, The Management oflnnovation (Chicago: Quad-rangle Books), passim. 3 See C.R. Hickman and M.A. Silva, Creating Excellence: Managing Corporate Cul-ture (New York: New American Library, 1984), p. 191. 4 K. Albrecht, The Creative Corporation (Homewood, I11.: Dow Jones-Irwin, 1987), pp. 46f. 5 See G. Pinchot, lntrapreneuring (New York: Harper & Row, 1985), pp. 224f.; see also the helpful insights of I. Briggs Myers, Gifts Differing (Palo Alto, Calif.: Con-sulting Psychologists Press, 1980), pp. 69-75. 6 See P. Drucker, Innovation and Entrepreneurship: Practice and Principles (New York: Harper & Row, 1986), p. 149. 7 See E.H. Schein, Organizational Culture and Leadership: A Dynamic View (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1987), pp. 137-147,270-296, and D. Graves, Corporate Cul-ture: Diagnosis and Change (New York: St. Martin's Press, 1986), pp. 120-144. 8 See J. O'Malley, "Priesthood, Ministry, and Religious Life: Some Historical and Historiographical Considerations," Theological Studies 49 (1988): 223-257. 9 See Congregations for Religious and Bishops, Directives for the Mutual Relations between Bishops and Religious in the Church (Sydney: St. Paul Publications, 1978), para. 12. 10 See comments on the New Code of Canon Law in G.A. Arb'uckle, Strategies for Growth in Religious Life (New York: Alba House, 1986), p. 137. i~ See G.A. Arbuckle, Out of Chaos, pp. 30-33, 105f. 12 See L. Schaller, The Change Agent: The Strategy of Innovative Leadership (Nash-ville: Abingdon Press, 1972), pp. 14, 152-154. ~3 See K. Albrecht, Successful Management by Objectives: An Action Manual (Engle-wood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1978), pp. 176f. ~4 Definitions and clarifications on power are provided by Jane Blaxland. See als6 " G.A. Arbuckle, Strategies for Growth in Religious Life (New York: Alba House, 1987), pp. 134-139. 15 See G.A. Arbuckle, Out of Chaos, pp. 112-135. 16 See R. Bolton People Skills (Brookvale: Simon & Schuster, 1987), p. 217; see also J.F. Benson, Working More Creatively with Groups (London: Tavistock, ! 987), pp. 130-145, l19f. 17 W.G. Dyer, Strategies for Managing Change (Reading, Mass.: Addison-Wesley, 1984), p. 176. 18 See J.F. Benson, Working More Creatively, pp. 184-186. 19 See the helpful insights of M.F. Kets de Vries and D. Miller, The Neurotic Or-ganization: Diagnosing and Changing Counterproductive Styles of Management (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1985), pp. 15-45, 133-205; and E.H. Schein, Organizational Culture, pp. 185-208, 311-327. 2°I am grateful for the help of Jane Blaxland and Michael A. Mullins, S.M., in the preparation of this article. Mary, Woman for Peacemakers Patricia McCarthy, C.N.D. Sister Patricia McCarthy, C.N.D., may be addressed at Congregation of Notre Dame; 41 Cole Street; East Providence, Rhode Island 02914. Before much time in the field has elapsed, a worker for peace usually dis-covers, by need, the meaning behind Gandhi's claim that mute prayer was his greatest weapon. Fidelity to truth and perseverance in justice are fruits that can only be produced if prayer is the seed. Such prayer begins with a choice--a choice to respond to the call from God, a choice to take the first commandment seriously and to kneel before God. The choice is to hear and acknowledge the call to worship, to invest time, effort, and attention to this call. The choice is to be there listening day after day, to be there loving hour after hour, and to be there receiving love moment by moment. It is when we make that move from listening and loving to the realization of being loved that prayer becomes relationship. Out of this relationship, we no longer see ourselves as only workers for peace, we become united with Jesus Christ the one peace-maker. From union with his heart, we understand the work of peace to-day and embrace the call to share in it. If we have felt the call to enter into this prayer-love relationship with Christ, our first step is to turn to Mary. Our reasons for this are many. We come to Mary as to an intimate friend, we come asking to know her, to love her, and to realize her love for us. We come to Mary because she is the virgin Mother of God. We come to Mary because she was the most faithful disciple of Christ during her time on earth. We come to Mary because Christ gave her to us from the cross. We come to her be-cause we believe she is our loyal advocate from heaven. We come to Mary because she passionately offered herself to God for the sake of his 368 Mary, Woman for Peacemakers people at the Annunciation. God blessed and accepted that offering two thousand years ago, impregnated her with the seed of God so she could give birth in flesh and blood to Jesus. Finally, we come to Mary because she was faithfully present when Jesus abandoned himself to his Father. Mary was the Mother of God in Bethlehem when the Word of God became flesh to be among us; and Mary was the Mother of God on Calvary when the Word of God surren-dered his flesh to redeem us. Mary was mother and companion to the Son of Peace while he walked this fragile earth. Let us ask her to accompany us as we journey toward peace. For the sake of clarity, let us consider three specific as-pects of our life with her: prayer, mission, and prophecy. Prayer Why Mary with regard to prayer? Devotion to Mary does not come out of some private practice covered with sentimentality. Devotion to Mary comes from the heart of the mysteries of redemption and salvation. From the time angels chose not to worship God and refused to ac-knowledge God as God, evil has existed. It entered into humanity through our ancestors who also chose a created good over the Creator. Along with the existence of sin, however, was the promise of redemp-tion. God never left us without hope even when we did not know enough to care. For years, God formed covenants with us and reformed them af-ter we broke them. God spoke to us to admonish us, to encourage us, to instruct us; God spoke through generations of holy men and women. And, finally, when the fullness of time had arrived God chose to speak through Jesus Christ. With the greate.st risk, God let this divine intervention wait upon the word of a virgin daughter of Israel. Mary. had been chosen and prepared, kept free of any remnant of our ancestral tendency to sin. She had been formed in the covenants of Yahweh, desirous of the coming of the Mes-siah. She had learned to kneel before Yahweh, to worship, to find her joy and hope in her God. Mary understood the angels who were beings of praise, and she knew there were also angels who had chosen differ-ently. She knew the history of her people, the faithful and the unfaith-ful. Her whole being grew in anticipation for Yahweh to come again. Mary's receptivity to the Word of God was the essence of her virginity. She became the virgin Mother of.God because she allowed the power of God to overshadow her. This is also our model for virginity: To understand the yes Mary said at the Annunciation, we have to see her clearly as virgin. Before we can 370 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 say yes, we have to see ourselves just as clearly as virgins. Virginity is a reality today that is poorly understood at best. Virginity, in its narrow-est sense, can be applied to a person, male or female, who has not had sexual intercourse. The virginity of Mary calls us to far more than that. In her virginity, Mary gives us the model for our own. Virginity is receptivity and openness to God's working with us and through us. It is total surrender to the loved one, the abandonment of all defenses and re-serves in the presence of the beloved. It is the willingness to take on a destiny utterly contrary to the culture of the day. It is the commitment to accept the seed of God in order to give the life of Christ to the world. Once we accept the seed we are committed to nourish it. The child will grow and be born of us and we will be responsible for him from that mo-ment on. This is the grace of virginity we received with our baptism, the grace to open ourselves to Christ, the grace that we can choose to coop-erate with whether we are male or female, married or single, religious or lay. This is the grace of virginity that calls us to a passionate chas-tity. This is the grace of virginity that Mary embraced. Mary has also shown us the call to motherhood, the call to bring Christ into the world. To the beauty of virginity God offered mother-hood, an inconceivable reality that Mary freely assented to. With that sin-gle yes, the Savior and Redeemer of the world was conceived. As no one else ever could, Mary in the ecstasy of her surrendered virginity em-bodied the Word of God. "The one whom the universe cannot contain is contained within your womb." She gave flesh to the good news, she brought forth the Prince of Peace. We owe Mary love, because it is through her tha

Issue 21.2 of the Review for Religious, 1962. ; FRANCIS J. WEBER The Relics of Christ The spiritual value of a relic is directly proportional to the devotion it inspires in those who venerate it. Apart from this spiritual significance, the relic is merely a his-torical curiosity. It may or may not be of archaeological value to the museums of the world. The official attitude of the Church regarding individual relics is one of extreme reserve. In most cases, the Church prudently withholds definitive judgment on even the most demonstrably ancient relics. In fact, while reluctant to proclaim the authenticity of a particular reli.c, the Church has not infrequently withdrawn from public Veneration relics whose claims were found to be dubious or spurious. In recent memory, this has happened in the case of "St. Philomena," center of a devoted cult for more than a cen-tury, though she had never been formally canonized and nothing actually was known of her life. Despite the many miracles attributed to the relics of this supposed second century martyr, unearthed from a catacomb in 1802, mod-ern research shed doubt on the authenticity of the re-mains. It should be noted that the decree of the Sacred Congre-gation of Rites in 1961 dropping the feast of St. Philomena from the liturgical calendar did not touch on the validity of the miracles attributed to her intercession. They may well have been genuine miracles performed by God be-cause of the faith and devotion of those who prayed for them. The oldest and most cherished of Christian. relics nat-urally are those reputed to have been connected with the holy person of Jesus Christ Himself. Those few that are still extant, for the most part, have sufficient historical documentation to merit scholarly attention. It must be borne in mind that the honor and veneration given to these objects is directed primarily to Christ. Hence, in, some cases where documentation establishes only doubtful authenticity, the Church is certainly jus-tified in remaining silent, if it is understood that in so doing the Church is not giving positive approval and if 4, 4. Francis J. Weber, a dPiorcieesste o of ft hLeo As rAchn-- geles, is presently assigned to Catholic University, Wash-ington 17, D.C. VOLUME 21, 1962 79 4. 4. Francis ~. Weber REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 80 greater honor and glory are thereby rendered to Almighty God. Our approach to this obscure and sometimes contro-versial subject is that of the historian, who presents only the facts, leaving conclusions to the reader, The True Cross The Cross on which our Savior died has been tradi-tionally the most precious of all Christian relics. Tiny splinters of the True Cross have been so widely distributed that, in the words of St. Cyril, "the whole inhabited earth is full of relics from the wood of the Cross." St. Helena is credited with discovery of the True Cro:;s in 327 A.D.1 Early testimony of the fathers, among them Ambrose, Jerome, Sozomen, and Theodoret, recounts this marvelous event in copious detail. The Cross was found in an abandoned cistern near Mount Calvary. Identifica-tion as the True Cross, according to St. Ambrose, was easy enough since the titulus was still affixed. To commemo-rate this great occasion, St. Helena orderd a magnificent basilica to be erected over the H61y Sepulchre. She gave it the name of St. Constantius in honor of her son, the Roman emperor. When Helena returned to Rome, the relics were placed in the Sessorian Basilica, Santa Croce in Gerusalemme. A substantial segment, of the. Cross-was left in Jerusalem where it annually attracted thousands of devout pilgrims. It was captured in the seventh century by Khosru II, the Persian conqueror. When the holy relic was returned by Heraclius in 628, the feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross was instituted. The Jerusalem relic was divided many times. When certain of these fragments fell into the hands of the Mohammedans, the Crusades were inspired to restore them. An extensive and intensive study of the True Cross was made and published in 1870 by Rohault de Fleury. After examination of all extant fragments claimed to be from the True Cross, he drew up a minute catalogue of them, with precise weights and measurements. His findings proved that if all known pieces of the True Cross were put together, they would consitute less than one-third of the original Cross. This effectively silenced skeptics who had scoffed that the total of supposed fragments was bigger than the Cross itself. De Fleury's calculations2 were based on a cross of pine wood weighing an estimated 75 kilograms. The volume of 1 Louis de Combres, The Finding of the True Cross (London: Trubner, 1907). = Charles Rohault de Fleury, Mdraoire sur les instruments de la Passion (Paris: Lesort, 1870), pp. 97-179. this. cross would have been approximately 178 million cubic millimeters. Known volume of the existing relics does not exceed ,t0 million cubic millimeters. 0 Crux ave, spes unica! The Title of the Cross There are many fanciful legen~ls associated with the dis-covery of the True Cross by St. Helena. The manner of distinguishing the True Cross of Christ .from those of the two thieves is usually related with colorful if not his-torically accurate circumstances. However, St. Ambrose testifies there was no problem in identifying the True Cross as the titulus or title-piece was still intact. Other writers corroborate this account, notably Sts. Cyrils and Jerome. As has been the case with so many holy relics, the titulus was divided into seveial pieces. The Diary of Etheria lo-cates a piece of the titulus in Jerusalem in 380 A.D, Helena undoubtedly brought a part of the title back to Rome with her. Regrettably, there is no further documentation avail-able on the fate of the Jerusalem relic, For some reason, very likely to protect it from invaders, the Roman relic seems to.have been walled up in an arch of Santa Croce by Placidus Valentinian III in the fifth century. In the twelfth century it was accidentally un-earthed by Gherardo Caccianemici, titular cardinal and later Pope Lucius II. The future pontiff placed his seal on the reliquary and replaced it in its hiding place. In 1492 Cardinal Mendoza of Toledo rediscovered the relic which he immediately presented to the then Holy Father, Innocent VIII. A papal bull, Admirabile Sacra-mentum, was issued, after which the titulus was exposed for public veneration in Santa Croce. The title-piece is of wood, about nine by five inches in size, and comprises two-and-one-half lines of faded in-scription. Hebrew, Greek and Latin characters are dis-cernible, all of which axe printed in reverse, a practice common with the Romans of the time of Christ. The Shroud of Turin It is recorded in Chapter 27 of St. Matthew how Joseph. of Arimathea wrapped the body of Jesus in a "dean linen cloth." No further mention of this funeral shroud appears in Christian literature until the time of St. Nino4 (d. ~38), who relates how Peter removed the shroud from the tomb shortly after the Resurrection. The fourteenth century Byzantine historian, Nicephorus Callista, tells how this 8Philip Gonnet, De Sancti Cyrilli Hiersolymitani Catechismt~ (Paris: 1876). ¯ Edward Wuenschel, C.Ss.R.0 Sell-Portrait oI Christ (Esopus, New York: Holy Shroud Guild, 1954). ÷ ÷ ÷ Relics ot Christ VOLUME 21, 1962 81 4. Francis $. Weber REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Holy Shroud, soaked with the blood of Christ and bearing an image of His holy face, found its way to Constantino-. pie: "Pulcheria, Empress of the East, having built a basil-ica. at Blachernes in 436, piously deposited there the fu. neral linens of Our Savior, which had just been rediscov-. ered and which the Empress Eudoxia had sent to her." Eyewitnesses to the presence of the Holy Shroud at Con-stantinople are recorded in the Annals of 631, 640, 749, 1157 and 1171 A.D. During the Fourth Crusade, the Holy Shroud was sur. rendered in recompense to Otho de la Roche, Duke of Athens and Sparta. The Duke in 1204 sent the prized relic to his father in France. Soon after, it came into possession of the Bishop of Besan~on. A fire caused minor damage to the shroud in 1349. Later that same year, it was stolen from its case in Besan~on Cathedral and given to King Philip IV who in turn gave it to Geoffrey, Count of Char., ney and Lord of Lirey. There is documentary evidence ¯ that it was at Lirey in 1360. During the Hundred Years War, the Holy Shroud wa:; handed over by Geoffrey's granddaughter to the House of Savoy for safekeeping. In 1454, Pope Sixtus IV directed the Duke of Savoy, Louis I, to build a shrine for the shroud at his Chambery residence. During the troubled war years of the sixteenth century, the Holy Shroud was moved from town to town in France. It narrowly missed being destroyed a second time by fire in 1532, and in fact its corners were noticeably singed. At the request of the aged Charles Borromeo, the shroud in 1578 was brought to Turin where it has re-mained for the past four hundred years. It is presently preserved in the black marble chapel specially built for it behind the city's beautiful fifteenth century cathedral. Several pronouncements by the Holy See leave litth: doubt regarding the Church's official attitude toward the Turin Shroud. An Office and a Mass were formally ap-proved by Pope Julius II in the bull Romanus Ponti[ex issued in 1506. Sixtus IV had previously stated that in thbl Holy Shroud "men may look upon the true blood and portrait of Jesus Christ Himself." A remarkable discovery was made in .1898, when a pho-tograph of the Turin Shroud revealed the faint, blurred image on the ancient linen to be an actual "negative" produced by vapors from a human body covered witll spices. The negative of the modern photo~a negative of a negative, thus producing a positive--offered a far more pronounced picture of a human face than was previously recognizable. ChemiCally, this "vapograph" was caused by the am-moniacal emanations from the surface of the body after an unusually violent death. It has been proved experimen-tally that these vapors are capable of producing a deep reddish brown stain which would vary in intensity with the distance from a cloth soaked with oil and aloes. Hence the image of Christ's face on the shroud is a natural nega-tive. This modern evidence, together with the identification of human bloodstains, prompted Dr. Paul Vignon to read a brilliant paper before the Acaddmie des Sciences, in which he suggested that any explanation denying the authenticity of the Turin Shroud would be scientifically inaccurate. It might also be mentioned that, the impression on the shroud of the Grown of Thorns is in perfect conformity with the "helmet type" of crown displayed at Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris. Further, the nail wounds are not in the palms of the hands but in the wrists. It has been re-alized only in our own times that this was a physical neces-sity, for nails in the palms .of the hands would not have been able to sustain the weight of a human body. One of the major opponents and critics of the Turin Shroud was the anti-pope Clement VII, first of the Avig-non Pretenders. His opposition apparently stemmed from a vague charge made by the Bishop of Troyes that the shroud was the work of a local craftsman skilled in the subtle art of simulating antique handiwork. Other shrouds, thirty in all, each purporting to be the genuine article, have turned up through the centuries. Most notable are thosestill preserved at Besan~on, Ca-douin, and Champiegne. These shrouds likewise bear im-pressions alleged to be those of Christ's face and body. However, the preponderance of ,historical evidence seems to leave no doubt that among all the claimants, only the Shroud of Turin has a valid pretension to au-thenticity. The Pillar of the Scourging The column of the Praetorium to which Christ was bound during His scourging was discovered in the For-tress of Antonia in 373 A.D., according to a chronicle penned by St. Ephrem. St. Paulinus of Nola,5 writing after 409, refers to several relics of the Passion, among them "the pillar at which He was scourged." Philip of Brosserius saw the pillar in the Church of the Holy Se-pulchre in 1285. Some time before the end of the four-teenth century it was broken and one part was sent to Constantinople. An interesting Christian" tradition, dating back to .the See Letter 310f Paulinus. ÷ ÷ ÷ Relics o] Christ VOLUME 21, 1962 83 ÷ ÷ ÷ F~ancis $. Webe~ REVIEW I:OR REI.I~IOUS 84 fourth century, holds that Christ was actually scourged twice. St. John Chrysostom tells us this second flagellation took place at the house of Caiaphas after the mock trial. This tradition finds prominent mention in early chroni-cles. The pillar used for the second scourging was reserved in the Church of Mount Sion, the Cenacle, where St. Jerome reported he saw it. During the Persian invasion, it too seems to have been broken into several pieces. The portion left at the Cenacle was lost in 1537. The other part was returned to a church subsequently erected on the sit~ of the house of Caiaphas. Here it was venerated until the fourteenth century, when it completely disappeared. In 1222 A.D., Giovanni Cardinal Colonna, papal envoy to the Orient, returned to Rome with a fragment of the Pillar of the Scourging, apparently given him by the Sara-cens. He enshrined it in his titular church of St. Praxedes, where it may be seen today. The Roman pillar is of mar-ble, about two feet four inches high. It is.probably one of the parts of the Praetorian column. Its counterpart in Jerusalem is of a different material and may have formed the lower part of the pillar. The Holy Stairs Among the many treasures brought back from the Holy Land by St. Helena was the marble staircase from the palace of Pontius Pilate in Jerusalem. It is still extant,e The stone steps number twenty-eight and are said. to have been sanctified by the feet of Christ himself when He as-cended this stairway at the Praetorium. The stairway, reconstructed in Rome, originally formed part of the old Lateran Palace, leading into a chapel dedi-cated to St. Sylvester. When the Lateran Palace was torn down by Pope Sixtus V in 1589, the stairs were moved to their present location. Today the Scala Sancta constitutes the entranceway to the Holy of Holies~ an old private papal chapelY In its present site, the Scala Sancta is flanked by additional stair-wells on either side. Traditionally the Holy Stairs are ascended only on one's knees. The last pope to ascend the stairway in this fashion was Plus IX on the eve of his exile from Rome in 1870. Pope St. Pius X decreed a plenary indulgence for those who devoutly ascend the Scala Sancta on their knees as testimony of their love for Christ. Replicas of the Scala Sancta have been erected at Lourdes and other centers of pilgrimage. e Herbert Thursfon, The Holy Year o] Jubilee (Westminster: New-man, 1949). ~ Philippe Lauer, Le trdsor de Sancta Sanctorum (Paris: Leroux, t~o~). The Soldier's Lance Mention is made of the soldier's lance in Chapter 19 of St. John. In his account of the Savior's death, St. John re-lates that "one of the soldiers opened His side with a spear . " The first extra-Biblical.~mention of~,this relic seems to be by Anthony of P~efiZ~, who wrot~'~a~;he saw the Crown of Thorns and "the lance with which He was struck in the side," in the Basilica of Mount Sion.s A miniature of the renowned Syriac manuscript, illu-minated by Rabulas.in 586, assigns the name Longinus to the soldier whose lance pierced the crucified Christ. Gas-siodorus and Gregory of Tours speak of a spear venerated at Jerusalem, which was thought to be identical with that mentioned in Scripture. After the fall of Jerusalem in 615 A.D., several of the major relics of the Passion fell into the hands of the Per-sians. The Chronicon Paschale relates that a piece of the soldier's lance came into the possession of Nicetas, who enclosed it in an icon and presented it to Santa Sophia in Constantinople. In 1241 the Holy Lance was given to King St. Louis for Sainte Chapelle in Paris. No trace of this part of the lance has been found since it was lost during the French Revolu-tion, some time after its removal to the Bibliothkque Na-tionale. The second and larger part of the shaft of the soldier's iance was reported seen by Arculpus in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem about 670 A.D. Later it was taken to Constantinople, where Sir John Mandeville writes about it. It was sent to Pope Innocent VIII in 1492 in return for favors shown to the captured Zizin, brother of Sultan Bajazet. At request of the French hierarchy, during the pontifi-cate of Benedict XIV an investigation was conducted to ascertain the .relation, if any, between the two relics, one at Paris, the other at Rome. A papal brief, issued after the inquiry, concluded that both relics were originally parts of the same shaft. Several other supposedly genuine Ho!y Lances are pre-served in various treasuries of Europe, but none of the others offers a valid claim to authenticity. Even the story told by William of Malmesbury about the Holy Lance given to King Athelstan of England is historically in-accurate. Since the tragic loss of ihe Paris relic, only the Roman lance remains. It is exposed each year for veneration dur-ing Holy Week by the Archpriest of St. Peter's Basilica. 8 Francois Martin, Reliques de la Passion (Paris: Lethielleux, 1897). 4- 4- 4- Relics of Christ VOLUME 21, 1962 85 + + + F~ancis ~. Webe~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 86 Veronica's Veil According to the historian Eusebius in his commentary on the Legend of Abgar and according to remarks con-tained in the apocryphal work Mors Pilati, several au-thentic portraits of Jesus Christ were made at various times during His lifetime. The oldest and most authenticated of these images has been known to Romans for centuries as the Vera Icon or Veil of Veronica. So highly has this image been held in Roman esteem, that a Mass celebrating it was composed and inserted into at least one of the early Augsburg Missals.9 There is no reference in Scripture to a woman offering her veil to Christ during His Sacred Passion. But it is highly plausible that there was such a compassionate soul among those who followed Christ on His way to Mount Calvary. The incident itself is undoubtedly worthy of some credibility, since it has found its expression since very early times in the Christian devotion of the Stations of the Cross. Apparently the holy woman in question, known in pious legend only as Veronica, found her way to Rome, where she presented her Vera Icon---True Picture--to Pope Clement I. The veil, ostensibly bearing the image of the suffering Jesus miraculously pressed into it, was vener-ated in several places until the pontificate of John VII who had it enclosed in an ornate reliquary. During the ensuing centuries, the Holy See has exhibited particular solicitude for this precious relic. It had been reserved to the Pope's own chapel, St. Peter's Basilica, where it is ex, posed briefly during Holy Week for veneration by the faithful. The Holy Grail A whole cycle of romantic legends has been woven about the theme of the Holy Grail,1° but the legendary quests, inspiring though they may be, add nothing to the few slim historical facts available. Of the two notable "pretenders" to genuine Grailship, one alone merits se-rious consideration. And while tl~e chalice displayed at Valencia is not generally accepted as genuine by histo-rians, its proponents present a tolerable case in its behalf. An account by Bishop Siuri of Cordoba relates that the chalice used by Christ at the Last Supper was brought to~ Rome by St. Peter soon after the death of Mary. It was used frequently at Papal Masses until the pontificate of Sixtus II. During the persecutions of Valerian, St. Lawrence sent the chalice to his native Huesca in the northern part of o Sainte Veronique, apostre de l'Aquitaine (Toulouse: 1877). a0 Nutt, Studies o[ the Holy Grail (London: 1888). the Spanish peninsula where the Holy Grail remained until 713 when it was removed to San Juan de la Pena for protective custody during the Moslem invasion. A deed of exchange, dated September 26, 1399, testifies that King Martin acquired the Holy Grail for his private chapel in the Palace of the Aljaferia. About 1424 .the chalice was moved to Valencia by King Alfonso V. The chalice has remained at Valencia since the fifteenth cen-tury except for a brief period during the Spanish Civil War when part of the cathedral was burned by the Com-munists. It was restored to its chapel in the Metropolitan Cathedral at Valencia by the Franco government in 1937. Artistically, the Holy Grail is Corinthian in styling,ix made of agate or Oriental carnelian. The handles on ei-ther side are common appurtenances for drinking vessels of its period. The costly pearls, rubies, and emeralds were added much later. The Crown of Thorns St. Paulinus of Nola, writing early in the fifth century, is the first of the chroniclers to mention specifically "the thorns with which Our Lord was crowned." Other early writers allude apparently to this relic of the Passion, but their comments are vague and inconclusive. Writing about 570, Cassiodorus speaks of "the thorny crown, which was set upon the head of our Redeemer in order that all the thorns of the world might be gathered together and broken." The pilgrimage of the monk Ber-nard establishes that the Crown Of Thorns was still at Mount Sion in 870. According to fairly recent studies, the whole crown was transferred to Byzantium about 1063, although many ot the thorns must have been removed at an earlier date. The Latin Emperor of Constantinople, Baldwin II, offered the Crown of Thorns to St. Louis in 1238. After lengthy ne-gotiations with the Venetians, the r(lic was taken to Paris and placed in the newly built Sainte Chapelle where it remained an object of national devotion until the French Revolution. For security, the crown was placed in the BibliothOque Nationale during the bloody days of the upheaval. In 1806, it was restored to Notre Dame Cathedral. It was en-shrined in its present rock crystal reliquary in 1896. All that is left to be seen today is the circlet of rushes, devoid of any thorns. What remained of the original sixty or seventy thorns were apparently removed by St. Louis and deposited in separate reliquaries. The king and his successors distributed the thorns until nothing remained at Paris but the circlet. The Holy Chalice o/the Last Supper (Valencia: 1958). 4. 4. + Relics o] Christ VOLUME 21, 1962 Francis J. Weber REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 88 Reportedly there are more than 700 "holy thorns" scat-tered around the world. But only those traceable to St. Louis, to one of the emperors, or to St. Helena are genu-ine. Such authentic thorns aCe at Cluny, St. Praxedes in Rome, Santa Croce, and at Aachen, to mention but a few. The Nails There seems to be little agreement among Biblical scholars on the number of nails used to fasten our Blessed Lord to His Cross. Religious art of the early Middle Ages almost unanimously depicts the crucified Savior with four nails~ In the thirteenth century, however, it became in-creasingly common to represent the feet of Christ as placed one over the other and pierced with a single nail. Either of these methods is compatible with the informa-tion we have about the punishment of crucifixion as practiced by the Romans. The earliest authors, among them St. Ambrose, speak only of two nails.12 And it is a point of interest that the two oldest known representations of the Crucifixion, the carved door of Santa Sabina in Rome and the Ivory Panel in the British Museum, show no signs of nails in the feet. The most commonly accepted opinion is that there were three nails that actually touched the body of Christ. This is borne out by the evidence of the Shroud of Turin. In addition, there were probably another three nails used for the titulus, the seat block, and the foot rest. St. Ambrose and St. Jerome speak of the discovery of the nails in Jerusalem by Constantine's mother, St. Hel-ena, in the third century. Sozomen notes in passing that St. Helena had no trouble identifying the nails. One of the nails was fashioned into an imperial diadem for the emperor. This Iron Crown of Lombardy is now at Manza. Another nail was made into a bit for the imperial horse. This relic is believed to be the same as the one at Carpentas. A third nail was venerated for many years in Jerusalem before being moved to Rome's Santa Croce by Pope Gregory the Great. Several European treasuries claim to possess one or more of the true nails, but their, authenticity is clouded with the passage of time. Most of the confusion regarding the thirty or more known spurious nails can be traced to the well-intentioned Charles Borromeo who had reproduc-tions made of the nails and gave them out as memorials of the Passion. Conclusion These, then, are the more commonly accepted relics as-sociated with the holy person of Jesus Christ, our Savior. u De Combres, op. cir. If they have served to increase devotion to Almighty God, they have fulfilled their noble purpose. A saintly priest was once heard to exclaim: "Our Savior's greatest bequest to His children was not a treasury filled with mere material relics, but a golden tabernacle in which He Himself resides to be our fo6d~f6r all ~tei'nit~.!: 4. Relics ot Christ VOLIJME 21, ~962 89 EDWARD J. STOKES, S.J. Examination of Conscience for Local Superiors ÷ Edward J. Stokes, S.J., is Professor o[ Canon Law at St. Mary of the Lake Seminary, Munde-lein, Illinois. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 90 In the summer of 1961 Father Edward J. Stokes, s.J.0 was asked to conduct the annual retreat for a group of local superiors. One of the projects he asked them to do during the retreat was to compose on the basis of their own experience an examination of conscience to be used by local superiors at the time of the monthly recollection, the annual retreat, or at any other suitable time. The ques-tions submitted by this group of local superiors were syn-thethized by Father Stokes who then submitted them to the REvmw. The questions were further revised by Father John E. Becket, S.J., of the editorial staff of the REw~w; the final version of them is given in the following pages. Readers, whether superiors or subjects, who have ideas for the improvement of this examination of conscience either by way of addition, deletion, or emendation are urged to submit their views to the Rzwvw. If enough of such improvements are received, a newly revised version of the examination of conscience for local superiors will be published in a later issue of the R~viEw. Personal Religious Li[e 1. Do I strive to come closer to Christ by leading the life of union and interior peace with Him? Do I do everything in, with, and for Christ? 2. Am I afraid of sanctity because of the demands that it will make on me? 3. Have I forgotten that if I live better, I will pray bet-ter, and that if I pray better, I will live better? 4. Am I firmly convinced of our Lord's words: If you love me, my Father will love you and we will come to you and make our abode with you? 5. Am I convinced that this office of superior, when ful-filled to the best of my ability, is a source of sanctification for me? 6. To be a superior means to carry a cross. How often do I thank our Lord for the privilege of suffering with Him? 7. Am I a superior truly aware of my ownnothingness? 8. When I suffer discouragement, is it because I have not succeeded in doing God's will or because I have not succeeded in pleasing men? ~-,, . ~ °~' ~ 9. Am I deeply convinced that if I have done my best to fulfill God's will, I have succeeded? 10. Do I accept as personal any recognition, privilege, or service accorded me by reason of my office as superior? 11. How often do I make a Holy Hour in petition for the solution of a problem or to obtain a special grace for my fellow religious or myself? Ever a Holy Hour of thanks-giving? 12. Do I make the Sacred Heart of Jesus the King and Center of our religious house and Mary its Queen? 13. Do I take St. Joseph as the advocate and the pro-tector of the interior life of each one dwelling in our house? Personal Recollection and Prayer 14. Am I convinced that recollection is an absolute ne-cessity for any progress in the life of prayer? 15. Is my spirit of recollection such that it provides an atmosphere conducive to prayer? 16. How do I prepare the points of meditation in the evening? 17. What special meditation has drawn me closer to Christ?_ 18. Do I sometimes excuse myself from my prayers by telling myself that this or that duty must take first place? 19. Have I given full time. to my prayers or have I hur-ried through them in order to get to my other work? 20. Does the demand for great activity cause distractions in my prayers or perhaps lead me to neglect prayer; or does it rather make me realize my dependence on God? 21. Have I said common vocal prayers reverently and not annoyed others by my haste? 22. Am I observant of recollection immediately after breakfast? 23. Do I make a special effort to keep recollected on the days when it seems especially impossible? 24. Do I ever revert to God's presence in me throughout the day, to adore Him, thank Him, love Him, speak to Him about the needs of soul and body, my own, and those of my fellow religious? Confession 25. Do I make it a point to confess my added responsi-bility by reason of my office when I confess criticism of su-periors or priests? ÷ ÷ ÷ local Superiors VOLUME 21, 1962 91 4, 4, E. ]. Stokes, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 92 26. Do I make it a point to confess my added respons.i-bility as a superior when I confess failure to exercise ju:~- tice or charity in dealing with my.fell0w religioug? 27. Do I take advantage of my weekly confessions to re-ceive spiritdal direction? 28. Have my confessions been hurried due to an in-efficient planning of my time? Particular Examen 29. Is my particular examen specific? 30. Do I make a tie-in of retreat resolutions, the particu-lar examen, and weekly confession? 31. Do I make a daily examination of the motives that govern my external life? 32. Do I make my particular examen a vital part of my day as a religious? Mortification 33. Do I realize that my chief mortification is to tie found in the justice and the charity of my dealings with others? 34. Am I willing to perform one interior and one exte-rior act of mortification each day in order to obtain the blessing of our Lord on my community? Charity 35. Is love for others the outstanding virtue in my life? 36. Have I deliberately practised acting towards Christ in each person I meet? 37. Do I appreciate the importance of my personal charity to this community as a cell of the Mystical Body? Faith 38. Are the mysteries of Christianity the basis of my re-ligious life? 39. Have I made the connection between these mys-teries and the Rule, or have I let concern with the Rule obscure my reliance on broader Christian principles? Hope 40. Am I aware of the need for Christ's help in sanctify-ing myself by governing others? 41. Do I realize that Christ is able to utilize my faults in sanctifying others? Principles of Government 42. Do I realize that the most exalted duty of a su-perior is care for the spiritual life of his subjects? 43. Do I seek to serve God by serving my fellow re-ligious always and everywhere? 44. Do I pray regularly for the spiritual well-being and growth of those in my house? 45. Do I try to help each religious to develop a deep inferior life by my words and by my example? 46. Do I give my fellow religious an example of the love of regularity? . 47. Do I try to help my fellow religious develop a ready and loving acceptance of God's holy will by the example of my own acceptance of it in all my difficulties, trials, and failures as well as in my joys and success? 48. Do I realize and am I firmly convinced that seeing, accepting, and willing all that God wills for me in every circumstance of my life is the essence of sanctity; and do I teach my fellow religious this? 49. Am I trying to establish in my fellow 'religious a sense of the Mystical Body so that they are able to com-municate spiritually one with another? 50. Do I look for Christ in the problem religious? in the impudent child in the classroom? Do I see Him looking at me through the eyes of all my charges, seeking my love and devotion? 51. How often have I passed a fellow religious in the hall without noticing and greeting him? 52. In making use of the aspiration, "Praise be to Jesus Christ" during the periods of recollection, do I really try to see Christ present in that person?' 53. Did I personally visit at least one sick person of the parish or community, or delegate a religious to do so? 54. Have I in any way, by actions or words, shown a mere toleration for lay persons associated with our work? Or have I accepted them as allies in our work? Community Exercises 55. Do I faithfully observe the daily order? 56. Do I realize that as superior I set the tone and the spirit of the house, in recollection, cheerfulness, peace, hospitality? 57. Do I let human respect interfere with the duty I have as superior to insist on charity and the observance of the rules in my community? 58. Do I miss or am I late for spiritual exercises unless for a grave reason? 59. What community exercises have I missed in the past month? My reasons? Did I make them up at another time, or did I let them go through neglect or carelessness? 60. What can be done to make the chapter of faults more effective? 61. Do I create a family spirit? 62. Is my recreation self-centered? Do I do what I want and not talk or .do too much of the talking? Local Superiors VOLUME 21, 1962 95 ]. Stokes, FOR R~:LIGIOUS 94 63. Do I endeavor to make community recreation an exercise of wholesome family spirit? 64. Is my house truly a religious house or does it have the impersonality of a modern railroad station? Personal Qualities 65. Am I even-tempered? 66. Do I show true joy in my work? 67. Have I betrayed immaturity and lack of courage by disproportionate manifestations of disappointment and discouragement? 68. Do I allow my feelings to regulate my actions? 69. Do I have a good sense of humor? 70. How much self-pity does my countenance mirror when things go wrong? 71. Am I approachable? 72. Do I try, as far as possible, to treat all my fellow re-ligious in the same way--not showing any partiality or favoritism? Have I excluded any or passed them over iu the sharing of responsibility or favors? Are the same few always near me? 73. Do I treat as sacred anything that a fellow religious tells me in confidence? 74. How many times in the past month have I been im-patient with my fellow religious? 75. How do I act or react when I know that one of my fellow religious has offended me? Do I~take it in a Christ:- like way or do I hold-a grudge? Do I consider violations of rule as offenses against me? 76. Do I as superior always show exterior peace, calm, and happiness? I must do this if I am going to be the un-derstanding, religious superior that I should be. 77. In the presence of outsiders do I always show great loyalty to each and every member of my community? 78, Am I as reserved as I should be while visiting in the parlor? 79. Am I kind to all lay people, regardless of how much they can, orhave helped financially or otherwise--look-ing to the good of their souls first and foremost? Government 80. Do I run a disorganized house so that my subjects tend to say: "We never know what we are going to do next"? 81. Do I get all the facts before I make a decision? 82. Do I hesitate in making the decisions that I must as superior? Do I harm my fellow religious by my habit of procrastination? 83. Am I under someone's influence in the decisions that I make, an older religious or a former superior? 84. Do I contradict my orders, thus making it difficult to know what is my will? 85. Am I available to my fellow religious? 86. Am I open to suggestions? 87. Do I delegate responsibility and do I trust those to whom I have delegated it? If a duty is not being done as I would, do I give it to someone else or take over myself rather than try to help? Do I show interest without in-terfering? 88. Do I give authority as well as responsibility to re-ligious when I give them a job? 89. Am I a politician in dealing with my fellow religious instead of a Christlike superior? 90. Am I unnecessarily secretive in trivial matters, keep-ing the community guessing? Do I not see that this will cause bad feelings? 91. Do I talk uncharitably or show displeasure to one of my subjects about another subject in the house? 92. Should I not close my eyes to many insignificant petty things? Should I not use tact and by my example bring it about that these failings and imperfections will vanish--al'though perhaps not totally? 93. How have I controlled the conversation at table? Was I alert always to see to it that it never became un-charitable or critical, especially regarding students? 94. Do I initiate conversation regarding worthwhile reading? 95. Do I give the required instruction time to the young religious? Do I conscientiously prepare these instructions? 96. Do I complain about fnoney? Am I overly anxious regarding finances? 97. What is my attitude toward the suggestions, deci-sions, or orders of extern superiors in the institution in which our community works? Fellow Religious 98. Do I as superior treat my subjedts as mature, dedi-cated persons? 99. Do I trust my fellow religious and have confidence in them and show them that I do by the way I treat them? 100. Do I correct all when only one needs the correc-tion? Do I not see that this causes much criticism and irritated discussion? 101. Do all the members of the community feel that they belong and are an important part of the whole? 102. Do I give my fellow religious encouragement and show them gratitude for the good work that they are doing? A pat on the back does not cost much but it means a great deal especially to those inclined to get discouraged at times. 103. Have I within the last month made it a point to 4. Local Superiors VOLUME 21, 1962 95 .÷ ÷ ÷ E. ]. Stokes, .S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 96 compliment or praise or show attention, at least in some small way, to each religious in my charge? 104. Has each of my subjects received some word of praise (not flattery) from me recently? 105. Do I encourage group discussions so that all the community can express themselves? Do I see that such discussions are well-prepared and stimulating? 106. Do I see to it that the rest of the community share,,i in the rich contributions that some of its members can give, those, for example, who have had special oppor-tunities for studies? 107. Do I seek to serve God by serving my fellow re-ligious always and everywhere? 108. Do I show concern for the trials and crosses of my fellow religious? 109. How often do I check and consider the welfare of ¯ each of my subjects--spiritual and physical? 110. Is understanding the essence of my charity? Do I try to put myself in the subject's place and realize his emotions, attitudes, and difficulties--or is my charity based solely on my own attitude and outlook on life? He might not always want done to him what I would want done to me. I must try to understand his viewpoint. 111. Is each religious an individual to me? 112. Do my fellow religious.feel wanted and valued by me? 113. Do my fellow religious find the quality of thought-fulness in me? 114. Do I make it a habit to direct my attention to each religious individually at least once during the day? 115. Have I tried to satisfy each one's basic need to be accepted, the need for belonging? 116. Have I made use of each one's talents (all of them), or do I level them down to an equal share from each? Do I, then, expect only three talents from one who has and can give ten talents? 117. Do I take too much ~or granted the conscientious and well-balanced religious who does not demand my at-tention? 118. Do I give each individual religious my undivided attention regardless of who he is and how often he may come to me in a given day? 119. Do I make a sincere effort to speak to each re-ligious some time each day? 120. Do I give a sufficient amount of time to those who need to talk over with me the question of students who may be a problem to them? This could be a problem of behavior or some method that would help teaching. If a teacher is weak in discipline, this is a good means of gently getting across the fact that the child is not always at fault. 121. How well uo I "listen" when religious come for permissions, advice, and such? With preoccupation? With patience? With haste or annoyance? And this especially at difficult times? Or am I gracious, patient, helpful, Christlike? Have I shown impatience with those who come to me with trifles? Which of them? Do I r~ally listen when a religious is telling me something---or am I finish-ing up this job or starting another? 122. Have I treated each religious the same behind his back as I have to his face? 123. Do I control my hurt when one of the religious tells lies about me to religious of our own house? 124. Can my subjects sway my will by flattery? 125. Do I afford my subjects the opportunity of sug-gesting spiritual reading books? 126. What have I done to encourage professional read-ing on the part of my subjects? Do I give them an ex-ample in this regard? Do I ever check,up on them on this point? 127. Do I seek to prepare my fellow religious for fu-ture responsible positions in the community? ÷ Local Superiors VOLUME 21, 1962 97 KATIE ROCK Restoration, with a Difference 4. + 4. Katie Rock lives at 200 Oak Street, Falls Church. Vir-ginia. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 98 Washington, D.C. is a city of contrasts. There are beau-tiful green expanses and there are dark, depressing alleys. There are massive monuments and tremendous buildingsl and there are rows and rows of shabby, run-down homes. Happily, there is city-wide slum-clearance consciousness; and already in some parts of town the monotonous rows are being converted into magnificent Town Houses with every modern feature. Restoration is taking place for many reasons, but unfortunately the power and profit motives seem the big reason. It is therefore refreshing to know that some are bringing their talents and inspiration to the restoration simply because they want to have part in "restoring all things to Christ." An assignment enhanced by my own curiosity took me to Foggy Bottom, the latest dilapidated section to be-come the site of intensive re-making. Situated only one.~ half mile from the White House, it is bounded roughly by Georgetown, George Washington University, the new State Department Building, and the Potomac River. This was my first visit to Foggy Bottom since it became "fash-ionable," and I was so fascinated as I walked down the narrow streets that I stopped to browse a bit. Gradually tiny broken-down row houses are being transformed into confortable city homes. Interesting colors, small but per.; fect gardens, unique combinations of contemporary and forsaken styling are attractive and appealing. Among the private homes there are apartment hotels arising. ¯ It was fun to speculate about the insides of these color., ful homes as I walked along the old brick sidewalks. Oc.; casionally a brass plate revealed an M.D. was occupant, or a navy captain, or a professor. A baby carriage in a tiny yard indicated there is new life in Foggy Bottom, too; When I arrived at my destination, the corner of H and 25th Streets, I stopped in wonder and admiration. Be-fore me was a turreted three-story structure of brick, painted a soft yellow with black trim which offsets awe-somely the octagon-shaped tower, dormer, and windows. There is a terrace in front, a landscaped yard, and I peeped onto a sheltered patio. A lacy black iron fence surrounds the property and a brass plate announces that this is the home of Melita god~ck,~A.I.A, g: Associates. I was welcomed inside by Melita, who introduced me to her assistant, Bernice, and after' being made to feel at home, I settled down to hear the story of a wonderful new venture into the new frontiers of our faith. Who is Melita? The decor and art work and religious atmosphere of this first floor indicate an unusual life. Melita was born in Milan, Italy, and educated at Vienna Polytechnic. She is a convert to Catholicism. Although she is an artist and sculptress, her professional experience and livelihood have mainly been centered On architec-ture. Twelve years were spent with other firms. Included in her work with those firms were high schools in Arling-ton, Virginia, and Rockville, Maryland, commercial buildings and a shopping center, a drive-in restaurant, hospitals.and the huge Medical Center of the National Institute of Health in Bethesda, Maryland, and many government buildings ranging from a missile base to renovations of Post Offices. Since establishing her private firm about three years ago, Melita has designed the Queen Anne's Lane Town Houses in Foggy Bottom valued at :~1,000,000 (and which won for her a Goid Medallion award), many residences, the Consolata Missions Semi-nary in Buffalo, New York, the Ayles~ord Retreat Center in Chicago, and remodeling of churches in southern Mary-land. For the Government, among other projects, she modified a hangar at Andrews Air Force Base. There is another facet to Melita's background. Dur-ing the 1940's she worked for four years in the Harlem Friendship House, engaged in interracial work, apolo-getics, and the practice of the spiritual and corporal works of mercy. During this time she had rich experi-ences. She undertook a formal course in philosophy un-der Jacques Maritain. She learned the principles of social justice from the best of its exponents, Father John La- Farge, S.J., Baroness Catherine de Hueck Doherty, the Sheeds, and others. During these years, she developed a great love for liturgical music through the influence of other wonderful visitors to Friendship House, one of whom was Professor Dietrich von Hildebrand. More and more, as years went by, Melita!s ability in. architecture and her various artistic talents became an integrated venture. And the motivating force in her life was her religion. Her love of designing, composing, creat-ing, on the one hand, and her love of God and her fellow-man on the other were beginning to congeal into one idea. + + + Restoration VOLUME 21, 1962 99 ÷ ÷ Katie Rock REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS I00 In 1956, Melita took several months off from work to take a trip around the world, studying and observing the architecture of many lands and plans of other countries to meet the changes of modern life. Her first stop was Australia where she visited her brother, an engineer there. Then she visited the Philippines, Thailand, and India, observing certain unique and desirable aspects of Far Eastern architecture. From India she proceeded to the Holy Land, and this part of her journey provided a re-treat, as she put the world out of mind and became ab-sorbed in the life of our Lord. Her travels continued in Turkey, on to Italy where she lingered in Rome, then to Spain and France. In Germany she studied problems in-volved in regional planning for mining. Because of a serious interest in necessity for inter-diocesan planning, Melita was deeply interested in the episcopal planning bureau in Belgium, by which city churches and rural churches and schools are planned according to needs of city, suburban, or rural life. Here in Belgium, Melita observed the tremendous effect of "Young Christian Workers" in Catholic activity. The last stop was England, then home to sift and appraise the ideas and inspiration from her round-the-world journey. In 1958, Melita began her own firm, specializing in providing for her clients complete architectural, engi-neering, and planning service combined with interior decorating. The firm has the services of excellent consul-tants in engineering and financing. When the firm was first Organized, .Melita and Bernice lived and worked in the Potomac Plaza Apartments. One day a For Sale sign went up on a deserted, dilapidated dwelling across the street from the apartment. Curiosity and vision sent Me-lita on an inspection tour. The unusual lines and the lovely view of the Potomac from the third floor tower captured Melita's heart. And the creaky stairs, plaster-bare walls and cobwebs provided a challenge to Melita's pro-fessional ability. The house today seems to say it was joy as well as work that restored it to its immense liveability and unusual beauty. So much for Melita, the architect, for she is more than an artist and an architect. Melita has vision and percep-tion and appreciation for beauty not touched by human hands. Designing is not only a business with her but a God-given talent in which she expresses the love of God in her soul. Creative art, Melita told me, is the remedy man needs in this age of technology, assembly lines, and automation. These things, cold and impersonal, produce ragged nerves and tensions and strike at man's very soul, leaving him unmindful of the purpose for which his Crea-tor put him on earth. Into all forms of art--painting, poetry, music, and so forth---goes one's own personality, reflecting a personal relationship with the Heavenly Father. The closer to God man is, ~the truer his work, and the more he will choose a good and proper use of ma-terials. In the arts a man may find peace and contentment for he may use his.creativ.e ability' to transform his inner energy in a satisfying manner,~, ~, Happily, Melita sees her obligation to use her creative ability to promote a Christian society, a Christian com-munity life. Melita is taking the giant step of using her profession solely for the glory of God and for love of her neighbor with no profit except the profit of peace in her own heart. Others have done this; for example, Dr. Albert Schweitzer and Dr. Tom Dooley and Geo.rge Washington Carver. Her heart and will having been entrusted to God some time ago, Melita began sifting ideas about putting her philosophy into practice. Then ideas had to be translated into blueprints, and these blueprints needed and received approval from her auxiliary Bishop, Most Reverend Philip M. Hannan, chancellor of the archdiocese. Then came discussions with many wise and prudent friends: spiritual directors, teachers, fellow artists, other archi-tects, and even mothers of children who are awakening to the needs of our frustrated society. Far from relying solely on her own ideas, Melita sought and listened to ~he counsel of all. The result was a plan to begin a secular institute of the design professions to be called Regina Institute. A secular institute is an association of lay people living in the world but bound by the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, performing duties suitable for their talents for the love of God. Though popular and plentiful in Europe, secular institutes are just emerging in our coun-try. Their specific purposes vary widely. In Madonna House, for instance, workers live among the poor, teach-ing crafts and catechism, nursing the sick and feeding the hungry. In the Company of St. 'Paul, members teach, work in the Government, and so forth. This is a quiet life~ there is nothing in their dress to indicate they are an organization dedicated to Christ. Members simply strive to live as "Christs" among those needy in goods or in spirit. Regina Institute is taking another direction. First of all, Melita is concerned with the arts in the service of the Church's liturgy. She would like to assist in setting stand-ards for the quality of sacred art just as Benedictines have set a standard for sacred music. Second, she is endeavor-ing to bring the Incarnation into society by bringing Christian attitudes into the building professions and in-dustry and into city planning. The Christian philosophy of man and the social teachings of the Church are being Restoration VOLUME 21, 1962 ]0! Katie Ro~k REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 102 applied, thus supporting such contemporary projects as open occupancy, adequate housing, and so forth. Third, Melita and associates try to teach all of us the visual arts and their spiritual and cultural values. My visit showed me a great deal about the practice of these ideals and the life of this infant group. Melita and Bernice filled in a picture of a day in Regina House, tak-ing me on a tour of the house as they talked about their Rule. Recently Gwen moved in with Melita and Bernice. For the present they are living according to the Rule of the Third Order of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. Melita has served as novice mistress of the St. Therese Chapter in Washington for eleven years. The Rule seeks to instill in its followers the spirit of constant prayer and love. Early each morning the group leaves for St. Stephen's Church nearby for a halfihour.of.meditation before 7:30 Mass. Breakfast follows, then they recite in ~ommon Prime, Terce and Sext from the Little 01~ce. (On.nice days they do so on the patio which they call their "clois-ter.") At 9:00 work begins. Lunch is at 12:30, followed by None and Vespers, then free time. At 2:00 they go back to work until dinner. At 7:30 comes Compline, Matins, and Lauds, and after that there is recreation-- long walks in nice weather, singing or reading at other times. One day of each.month is spent in retreat. There are three floors in l~egina House. The first con-tains the dining area and kitchen opening onto the patio, Bernice's office, and a music area. Melita plays the piano, and there is also a stereo arid many fine records, including Gregorian chant and classical music. On the second floor, we entered a work and study spa.ce. I was fascinated with the dozens of books and their range of subjects, from the culture of the Far East to the philosophy of Frank Lloyd Wright. There are books in German and French and Spanish, books on philosophy, Catholic Action, and the liturgy, books on ancient architecture and books on mod-ern design. Attractive chairs and a lovely view are invit-ing. Melita's bedroom, also on this floor, shows all her separate interests united in her one endeavor. There are beautiful religious objects, side by side with a drawing board (she is currently working on a dental laboratory) and there were several sketches in process, both water colors and oils. On the third floor are more drawing boards. This floor also serves as a workshop for other projects. Bernice finds time to make beautiful cards by a linoleum process fea-turing Melita's impressionistic designs. Bernice has a talent for dress designing and sewing; also she does lovely ceramic tile work. I noticed several clay models of build-ings as well as wooden models; Melita explained these help her visualize her ideas. Certainly the first purpose'of this institute is sanctifi-cation of its members. Theystrive for a four-fold contact with Christ: Christ the Life, through prayer.and the sacra-ments; Christ the Truth, through study and meditation; Christ the Way, through i~bedience; and Christ the Worker, through creative human effort for love of God. Melita invites young people inclined towards the design arts, who would like to dedicate their service to God, to talk to her. Regina House is large enough to house several women. If men apply, perhaps a home close by will be found for them, while work and prayer will be centered in Regina House. The necessity for meals and housekeep-ing means the Institute must attract also "artists" of the kitchen and "masters" of the broom. In fact, Melita is ready to consider anyone who is willing to share her ideals and approach, and invites those interested to con-tact her at 801 25th St. N.W., Washington 7, D.C. So sold was I by my visit that I was ready to apply-- but Melita just won't take a mother of eight growing children. Reluctantly I said "good-bye" and went out the big black door and the lacy iron gate. I looked back with new appreciation at Regina House which today so sur-passes in beauty and liveability its original design. From the ordinary it has become majestic. I left, believing that Melita's plan for it also far surpasses the ordinary Chris-tian way of living and that its tower truly points to Heaven and its eternal history is just beginning. ÷ ÷ ÷ Restoration VOLUME 21, 1962 103 WALTER DE BONT, O.P. Identity Crisis and the Male Novice Walter de Bont, O.P., is a member of the faculty o! the Catholic University in Nijmegen, Hol-land. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 104 Beginners' Failings Father Lacordaire,1 the day after his entry into the novitiate, confided to the master of novices: "Father, I can't stay here; these young men are childish and quite silly. They think everything is funny," "It would be a shame," the priest answered, "if the former preacher of Notre Dame of Paris should, by a hasty departure, give the world the impression that his entrance into religion had not been thoroughly consid-ered. Wait a while, then." Three weeks later the master of novices asked him, "When are you leaving?" "But I do not wish to go, so long as you are willing to keep me." "But what of your young companions who are so silly?" "Father," said Lacordaire, a little embarrassed, "I am the silliest of them all." In all the novitiates of the world since the beginning of monasticism there h~tve been young men, and some not so young, who were "a little silly." No matter how more or less normal they were a few weeks.previously, before they had left "the world," here they become affected by a whole series of strange phenomena which spiritual authors call "beginners' failings" (see especially St. John of the Cross, Dark Night, 1, 1-7). Using the material furnished by the experiment described below, the following section will give a rapid and pseudonymous portrait of certain "types" who betray the curious behavior encountered among be-ginners. *This article is translated with permission from the original article, "La crise d'identit~ du novice," which appeared in Suppld-ment de la Vie Spirituelle, 1961, pp. 295-325. The translation is by the Reverend John E. Becket, S.J. Passing Vagaries Brother Clement suddenly develops a phobia for drafts; underground currents beneath his bed keep him from sleeping; he wonders whether the spinach from the garden has enough iron to supply his needs; the light bulb on his work table endangers his eyes; and so on. No one has de-scribed more humorously than St. Teresa of Avila this kind of hypochondriac novice who seems "to have entered the cloister solely to labor at staving off death." She her-self, for that matter, knew this temptation of seeking "not to lose one's repose here below and still to enjoy God in heaven." John is a real gourmet--in search of spiritual delicacies. All his efforts are aimed at getting the satisfaction of a very sensible devotion from' prayer; In his :better moments he feels inundated with grace and spends hours in the chapel. When consolation no longer comes to him, he is desolate and lamentsin the blackest sorrow. At such times he passes the time of meditation breaking in books. Guy fears to embark on the road to perfection, excusing himself as one who was not meant to accomplish great things. He even thanks God for not making him too in-telligent. Comparing himseff with others, he has already lost all courage. Some suffer from quite peculiar sexual problems. At the very moment of prayer, confession, or communion, sexual feelings and reactions surge up. Cassian has already spoken of a brother "who enjoyed constant purity of heart and body, having merited it by reason of his circumspection and humility, and who was never afflicted with nocturnal emissions. But whenever he prepared for communion, he was sullied by an impure flow in his sleep. For a long time fear kept him from participating in the sacred mys-teries" (ConIerences, 22, 6). And then there are the pilgrims of ,the absolute with pure and perfect ideals. They are so punctual in their ex-ercises that you can set your watch by them; but they easily forget that the rule is merely a means to love God and their neighbor better. Burning with enthusiasm, they seem to have sanctity within their grasp. Lacking patience, they try to force the ascent toward God with Draconian measures. The novitiate is the decisive year in which holi-ness must be achieved. For them profession is a final set-tlement and not a decisive beginning. Or else there are the grim ascetics. In his enthusiasm for purity, Henry Suso did not scratch, nor even touch, any part of his body. Throughout the day he abstained from all drink. In the evening at the sprinkling with holy water, he opened his dry lips and gaped toward the 'sprinkler, hoping that a tiny drop of water would fall on his arid 4. + + Identity Crisis VOLUME 21, 1962 ]05 4. W. de Bont, OJL REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 106 tongue. At the age of forty, luckily, when "his whole na-ture was so devastated that nothing was left for him but to die or leave off his austerities," he opted for life and threw his whole arsenal of instruments of penance into the lake. For most of these novitiate "follies" are only temporary. Sooner or later good sense reasserts its rights, and the spiritual life of the subject becomes more balanced. St. Teresa had already clearly sensed that this bizarre conduct of the novice-beginner was somewhat forced and not genuine: Anything which gets the better of us to such an extent that we think our reason is not free must be considered suspicious, for in that way we shall never gain freedom of spirit, one of the marks of which is that we can find God in all things even while we are thinking of them. Anything other than this is spiritual bondage, and, apart from the harm which it does to the body, it constrains the soul and retards its growth (Book of the Foun-dations, Chapter 6, from The Complete Works ot Saint Teresa oI Jesus, translated and edited by E. Allison Peers, Volume III, p. 32 [London and New York: Sheed and Ward, 1946]). If "our reason is not [completely] free," then we are not fully on the plane of moral defects, but partially on that of psychic determinisms. And it is precisely the psychic aspect of these, phenomena that we propose to study in this article which has no other aim than to throw some light by the help of modern depth psychology on this strange being whom the masters of the spiritual life have been ob-serving for centuries, the beginner par excellence, the novice, and on his imperfections. The perspective of this article must, then, be clearly emphasized. This is not a work of spiritual theology. The theologian contemplates the events of the novitiate with the eyes of faith; he sees there the hand of God and the conflict between grace and sin. The perspective of this article is much more modest; it is, to put it simply, psychological. Without in any way denying the workings of grace, we shall systematically ab-stract from them; for the designs of God and the ways of grace are not apprehended by the purely human ways of kno~ving which alone are at the disposal of the psychol-ogist. While leaving aside the supernatural aspect of the growth of the novice, we are bound to point out that this aspect tias been amply clarified by the masters of spiritual theology from Cassian and St. Benedict to St. John of the Cross and contemporary authors. Working Hypothesis and Methodology To initiate the psychological study of the novice and of his "imperfections," we took as "subjects" twenty-eight male novices belonging to two quite different communi-ties. We asked for volunteers only, but in each novitiate everyone volunteered. The age of our subjects varied from eighteen to twenty-two years. The level of their previous instruction was for the most part uniform, and they were about equally divided between those, from rural and those from urban backgrounds. The experiment was made dur-ing the fourth month of the/novitiate. i~ A double series of tools was used, since our aim was to clarify certain problems of the spiritual life. of the sub-jects by a study of their personality in the course of evolu-tion. a) For the study of personality, projection tests were used, especially the Rorschach and the Thematic Apper-ception Test (T.A.T.), since these two tests are universally recognized as highly useful for this purpose. The admin-istration of the Rorschach was preceded by the drawing of a human figure, so that the subject might implicitly per-ceive that a creative effort was expected of him. b) For the study of their spiritual life, the novices were asked to write a four-page essay entitled "The Ideal and the Difficulties of My Spiritual Life." c) To complete our information from the character-ological as well as the spiritual side, we conducted inter-views of about an hour with each subject, his master of novices, and the assistant to the master of novices. It was striking, especially in going over the Rorschach protocols, to see the number of signs of anxiety, of ten-sion, and of disintegration. Equally striking, however, were the efforts at synthesis. Given the age. and the situa-tion of our subjects, this called to mind the psychological situation described by Erik Erikson under the name of "identity crisis" (see Erik Erikson, "The Problem of Ego Identity" in Identity and the Lqe Cycle, volume one of "Psychological Issues" [New York: International Univer-sities Press, 1959]). As a matter of fact, the novice is a young adult, around eighteen to twenty years of age. As others become doctors, engineers, and fathers of families, he, at the end of his adolescence, chose in a more or less definitive way the role he wanted to play in adult society: that of religious or priest. This role is the result and syn-thesis of his entire previous development. In this connec-tion, Erikson uses the word "identity" because in this role the young man ought to be able to accomplish the best he is capable of while at the same time promoting the aims of society. The novitiate is his first serious testing of this role; he is vested in the religious habit and he follows the rules of his community as they are adapted for re-cruits. What does this identity of pries.t-religious become in the novitiate? Is the young man able to realize it here in the way in which he dreamed of doing? Does the com-munity he has chosen respect this identity? If these ques-tions receive a more or less negative answer, .a crisis oc- VOLUME 21, 1962 curs, an identity crisis because it is the novice's identity that is brought into question. As with every crisis it is manifested by certain symptoms; and one may assume that the imperfections of beginners are precisely the signs of this crisis on the religious plane. Our hypothesis then is this: The novitiate induces in the young religious a crisis about his identity, about the role he wishes to play in life, a role which is the end prod-uct of all his previous development; this crisis comes from the fact that this role is threatened by the novitiate; and the imperfections of beginners are the symptoms of this crisis. In order to understand this hypothesis better, a more ample presentation must be made of Erikson's notion of identity. This will be done in several of the following sec~ tions. ÷ ÷ ÷ W. de Bwnt, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 108 Identity, Synthesis of the Personality During adolescence all the impulses of earlier life re-appear accompanied by a strong genital drive. It is the characteristic work of the male adolescent to subordinate this chaos of impulses under genitality and find them their proper object, a girl. But this adjustment of one's infan-tile heritage to one's new acquisitions does not confine itself solely to the level of impulsive life; it equally con-cerns the other functions of the personality, the ego and the superego and their identifications. For the young man. must subordinate his previous identifications to a new kind of identification, an ultimate identity learned in so-cial contacts and competitive apprenticeship with his equals. These new identifications no longer have the ca-priciousness of infancy or the experimental fervor o youth; with extreme urgency they impel the young indio. vidual toward choices and decisions which progressively conduct him to a final definition of himself, to an irrev-ocable configuration of rol~s, and then to lifelong com-mitments. The normal adolescent performs this reintegration him. self, using spontaneously chosen adults and older adbles-cents as his models. But the age at which this synthesis is completed varies considerably. The more complicated a civilization is, the longer it takes its members to integrate their personality and find their place in society. At the bee ginning of our era people were married at Sixteen, a thing that rarely happens today. Suso entered the novitiate ar thirteen, whereas nowadays even canon law considers thi.~ too early. Moreover it would seem that workers or farm people come to adulthood before members of the profes. sional classes who have more to integrate and spend a longer time in training. Finally, the presence of acute conflicts can make this integration even more difficult and slow. At the worst, they may even render such integration impossible and the subject becomes neurotic or psychotic. Identity, a Psychosocial Reality This ultimate identity of which we have been speaking is unique for each individual because no two ,develop in identically the same way. '~Id~e'~,er, it is fa~'~O~ being individualistic. A person becomes himself only in a given society and in order to live in that society according to that identity. Ideally, identity implies that one is most oneself when one is most in relation with others and that our personal values and ideals coincide for the most part with those of the environment which is accepted by the person and in which he feels himself accepted. It is of ex-treme importance for the formation of the identity of the young man that society respond to him and that he receive a function and a status which integrates him into the community. In order to take his place in society the young man must acquire the skillful use of his principal ability and fulfill it in some activity. He should enjoy the exercise of this activity, .the companionship which it furnishes, and its traditions. Finally he must receive a setof teachings which allow him to see the meaning of life: religion, philosophy, or some ideology. Speaking psychosocially, the'h, identity is the role, integrated into the character, which the indi-vidual wishes to play in society and for which he expects the approbation of society in order to give meaning to his life. After the psychosexual delay of the period of latency there must, in consequence, be another delay, adolescence, so that the already sexually adult young man may, by freely experiencing different roles, find himself a place in some section of society, a place which in its definiteness seems made uniquely for him. The Genesis o[ Identity Identity must not be confused with identification. The simple addition of infantile identifications (the child act-ing like his parents, his brothers, his uncles, his teachers, his friends.) never results in a functioning personality. These identifications are too disparate and too contra-dictory; they are, moreover, often far from being socially acceptable or realistic, since the child's imagination dis-torts the image of his. parents or other models to suit his own needs. The final identity which emerges in the course of adolescence and which at the end of its development is largely fixed, is rather a new configuration which includes all previous usable identifications while transcending them all. They are transformed to make a whole which is unique and reasonably coherent. This new configuration ought to be achieved in such a way that in it the physical 4. VOLUME 21, 1962 ]~9 ÷ ÷ W. d~ Bont, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS constitution of the young man, his affective needs, his best liked capacities, his effective defense mechanisms, and his successful sublimations find their rightful use. The formation of personal identity, then, has its roots in the most distant past of the individual, a past often lost in the clouds of the unconscious. It begins with the first introjections and projections of the baby whose relative integration depends on a mutually satisfying relationship between the child and his mother. For it is she who must give him that basic trust in himself and in others which is at the foundation of any process of becoming social. Then follow the different identifications of childhood which will be the more successful according as.their proto-types show themselves to be both loving and firm. The last step of the formation of the ultimate identity begins when the usefulness of identifications is over. It consists of the repudiation of some infantile identifications and an absorptive assimilation of others of them into a new configuration, which in its turn depends on the proc-ess by which a society (or the subgroups of a society) "identify" the young man by recognizing him as someone who ought to have turned out as he did and who is ac-cepted as he is. Society in its turn feels "recognized" by the individual who demands to be accepted, or profoundly and aggressively rejected by the individual who seems un-interested in any social integration. Identity manifests itself, then, in the role which the young man is going to play in society. Identity Crisis When the young man, emerging from.adolescence with his newly acquired identity, does not find in society the place he needs in order to continue to be what he has been and to develop still more, he runs the risk of a crisis. His ambitions may be too vast, society too different from his ideal; certain aspects of his identity may be poorly de-veloped in relation to what is demanded by the customs of his milieu from the viewpoint of sex, occupation, or in the area of academic or athletic competition. This constitutes a failure, at least a partial and provisional one. The at-tempt to enter into a relationship with society will piti-lessly reveal any weakness up to now latent in his identity. There results a state of confusion with the following symp-toms: a feeling of isolation, a breakdown of the feeling of personal continuity, shame, inability to enjoy any ac-tivity, a sense of enduring life rather than of actively living it, a distorted perspective of time, and finally, an extreme mistrust of others as if society were in opposition to what the subject wants to be. But no matter how many neurotic or psychotic symp-toms may be discovered, an identity crisis is not a sickness. Rather, it is a normal crisis, that is, a normal phase of sharp conflict characterized by an apparent wavering in the strength of the ego, but also by great possibilities for growth. Neurotic and psychotic crises are characterized by a tendency to perpetuate themselves because o~ a loss of defensive energy and ~i deep social isolation.~ A'grOWth crisis, on the contrary, is relatively more easy to overcome and is characterized by an abundance of utilizab!e energy. This energy, doubtless, causes the reawakening of dormant anxieties and engenders new conflicts; but it supports the ego in the functions it has newly acqtiired or developed during the search for new opportunities or for, new rela-tions which society is more than ever ready to offer. What appeared as the .onset of a neurosis is often only a quite acute crisis which dissipates itself and helps more than it harms the formation of the subject's identity. Some cases, however, reach a less fortunate outcome: derangement, suicide, or a confirmed case of nerves. We have already briefly mentioned the characteristic symptoms of the identity crisis, now it will be worthwhile to give a more ample description of them by contrasting them with the dimensions of an ultimate identity success-fully achieved. The Dimensions of Identity and Its Crisis At each stage of man's psychosocial, development cer-tain criteria allow us to see whether the individual has passed through this phase successfully or whether he has failed. So it is with the baby's crisis of trust (in the oral stage of development); with the crisis of autonomy at the age of two (during the anal phase); with the crisis of in-itiative around the age of five years (the age of the Oedipus complex); with the assimilation of work during the time of schooling; the crises brought about by marriage and the birth of children; and the problems posed by maturity and old age. What interests us here are the criteria which let us evaluate the identity crisis in the passage from puberty to adulthood. Erikson gives eight criteria which show whether the young man has succeeded in building up for himself in accordance with his possibilities an ultimate identity which is both balanced and accepted by his environment, or whether he remains at grips with an outgrown identity which is deficient and replete with conflicts. As has just been said, each growth crisis reawakens sleeping anxieties, the relics of old battles in former crises which were buried but not done away with. In the identity crisis certain con-flicts of preceding stages of psychosocial development are reawakened. This reawakening evidently does not bring these conflicts forward under the shape which they had when the subject was still a baby or a small child, but in a Identity Crisis VOLUME 21, 1962 ÷ ÷ W. d~ Bont, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS way that is colored by his current development. The first four dimensions of the identity crisis mentioned by Erik. son are reawakenings of former crises which, as we have mentioned, have to do with trust in o~hers and in oneself, personal autonomy from others, the ability to take the ini.~ tiatives by which one becomes "someone," and the ability to do one's work well. But the young man is not formed by his past alone; he is also stretching towards the future; The last three dimensions of the identity crisis are then foretastes of the problems which he will have to resolve later on in his life when he marries, when he becomes a fafher, or when he .reckons up the balance of his whoh: life. ¯ Here then are the eight criteria or dimensions of the identity crisis: a) Presence. or absence of a perspective in life. The young man in the grips of an identity crisis manifests a confused attitude toward time which may be more or less grave according to the case. He sees no prospects for him-self in life. Since his identity is not well defined and he is fully confused with regard to his place in society, his con-fidence in the future is completely overturned. He is in despair, even if this shows up as a headlong precipitancy with which he tries to reach his goal, like the student who, for an elementary examination in biology, studies only the most advanced articles. This is a derivative revival of the impatience found in the child who has not yet realized that all human activity realizes itself only gradually in obedience to the progressive nature of time rather than all at once as if by magic. When the young man resolves his crisis and begins 'to become himself, when he synthesizes the different aspects of his character and finds his place in society, this co:a-fused attitude toward the temporal element of his life is changed into a rich diversity of prospects; at the same time he becomes open to the temporal dimension as indispen-sable for every building up of his personality. Moreover, through the temporal dimension of the ideology which it offers him, society can help the young man to rediscover the feeling that his past and his future have a meaning. Most religions, philosophies, or political doctrines teach that there is a meaning and a direction to life. Even though such an ideology may not be altogether realistic and may represent a certain simplification of the order of things, still, in such a situation its pedagogical usefulness is real. b) Self-certainty or self-consciousness. The young man going through an identity crisis is characterized next by insecurity, by a doubting of himself accompanied by shame at what he is or has been. What reappear are the social characteristics of the anal stage. Once he has regained at a higher level the balance which he had achieved before, the new sense of his own meaning gives him the necessary assurance to face life and to assume his chosen role in society. Here again, in the recovery of assurance, social surroundings can be a powerful aid by the uniformity of conduct, arid ,sometimes of~:clbthing, which they impose, often without even demanding them by an explicit code. With the help of this uniformity, the young man, though in a state of confusion, may tempo-rarily hide his shame and his doubts until his identity is sufficiently reestablished. c) Free experimentation with roles or its absence. The healthy young man's entrance into adult society is char-acterized by the provisional adoption of a great variety of roles and initiatives, each of which is tested by a process of trial and error in order to .decide which is better for him so that he may make a final choice which will determine the principal content of his adult life. This is a prolonga-tion of the child play of the Oedipal age in which the child sought to overcome anxiety by his identifications; the child of four who plays at driving a bus attains, in this way, at least in his imagination, equality with the adults he fears, especially his parents (the castration complex of classical psychoanalysis). But in certain cases, especially if adoles-cence is unduly prolonged, the opposite of this free ex-pe. rimentation with roles is found. To characterize this other extreme, Erikson speaks of negative identity, that is, "an identity perversely based on all those identifications and roles which, at critical stages of development, had been presented to the individual as most undesirable or dangerous, and yet also as most real" ("The Problem of Ego Identity," op. cit., p. 131). The 'young man whose mother is always saying, "If you act that wa~ you will turn out like your uncle [a drunkard]" can end up precisely that; he identifies himself with what is forbidden because it is more real for him than the positive ideal which' his mother never spoke of with such eloquence. According to some recent research (that of Adelaide Johnson and her staff) juvenile delinquency (in the area of aggressivity)and perversion (in the sexual area) are frequently the result of such largely negative education. But there are still other ways to renounce a free experimentation with roles; for example, the renouncement of personal identity in an ex-treme conformism which tries to root out everything which goes against even the excessive demands of the en-vironment. Here again the different segments of society offer the young man initiations or confirmations which are apt to encourage the spirit o[ initiative while channeling it and allaying the reawakening of Oedipal guilt. "They strive, within an atmosphere of mythical timelessness, to com- . 4- 4- 4- VOLUME 21, 1962 113 ÷ ÷ ÷ W. ~e Bo~t, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS bine some. form of sacrifice or submission with an energetic guidance toward sanctioned and circumscribed ways of action--a combination which assures the development in the novice of an optimum of compliance with a maximum sense of fellowship and free choice" ("The Problem of Ego Identity," op. cit., p. 144). d) Anticipation of achievement or work paralysis. The next characteristic of the adolescent who is initiating him-self into society is the anticipation of success. He feels able to accomplish something, to fulfill his function in the. community in such a way that the other members will re-pay him by their esteem. This is a prolongation of the ap-plication to school work during the period of latency. When things go poorly, the subject, instead of feeling him-self able to assume his role, is paralysed in the work he is doing either because his ambitions are too vast or because his environment has no place for his special capacities or does not give him the recognition he hopes for. Or he risks everything to gain everything and throws himself." prematurely into an intellectual or social activity which is extravagant and rigid and which may in the end com. pletely destroy his personal happiness, if not his physical existence: At the root of ~ill these forms of work pathology we find, according to Erikson, a reawakening of Oedipal competition and of the rivalry with his brothers or sisters. The different segments of society help those who are the process of learning and of trying out their social role by offering them .a certain provisional status, that of ap-prentice or student--with all that these imply of duties, competition, freedom, and also of potential integration into the hierarchy of jobs and of classes, as in associations for young adults (for example, political parties have their sections for youth which act ~s an initiation into adult life). e) Identity or confusion. The most general character-istic of the young man who has not yet achieved interior and social balance is confusion. This is the global result of all the imbalances set up by the reawakening of old conflicts and of all the confused attitudes which come from the fact that the ~oung man is still unable to take his place in the community of adults. A multiplicity of contradic-tory roles results. Two souls come to exist in one body, as the hermit and the power mad man did in Francisco Jimfinez de Cisneros (Le Cardinal d'Espagne), or ~2z~chiely and Tenebroso-Cavernoso in Father Joseph, the grey emi-nence, "combining in his own person the oddly assorted characters of Metternich and Savonarola" (Aldous Huxley, Grey Eminence [New York and London: Harper, 1941], p. 128). Nevertheless, when the conflict has been crystal-lized, that is, become irreversible, we no longer speak of an identity crisis or of confusion, but of neurosis (sympto- matic or characterological) and of psychosis in which the 'T' has become someone else in the complete collapse of the sense of oneself, as in the case of the novice who, having divested himself in choir, appeared on the altar before the community piously assembled for a ho.ly hour and said, "I am the Immaculate C6nceptiofi."'~ The opposite of this confusion, which emerges in a more or less definitive way at the end of a successful ado-lescente, is identity. It is the feeling of having integrated into one's person all the valuable elements of one's child-hood heritage in order to give oneself with all one's forces .to love, to work, and to the social commitments, of adult life. We need not develop this sinc~ it has already been treated in previous sections of this article. f) Sexual identity or bisexual.conIusion. We come now to the ch~aracteristics of the identity crisis which are not derived from old, preadolescent' conflicts reawakened by physical maturation, but which are rather the precursors of conflicts which will find their climax and their.resolu-tion later in the ages of preadulthood, adulthood, or ma-turity, The proper task of the preadult period is intimacy, es-pecially sexual intimacy, with a partner. According to Erikson the "utopia of genitality" ought to include: mu-tual orgasm with a loved partner of the opposite sex with whom one is willing and able to share mutual responsibil-ity and with whom one is willing and able to adjust the cycles of work, procreation, and recreation in such a way as to assure their offspring a similar satisfactory develop-ment. As for the celibate, "a human being should be po-tentially able to accomplish mutuality of genital orgasm, but he should also be so constituted as to bear frustration in the matter without undue regression wherever consider-ations of reality and loyalty call for it" (Erik Erikson, Childhood and Society [New York: Norton, 1950], p. 230). Whoever fails at this stage becomes an isolated personality. In the identity crisis the precursors of these extremes are seen. The one who will later succeed in entering into a true intimacy with another is the one who succeeds in integrating into his personality the true characteristics of his sex, who sees himself both consciously and uncon-sciously as pertaining to his sex, and not more or less to the other sex. In those periods when the personality is less structured, and especially in irreversible pathological cases, there is a clear incapacity to assume the role proper to one's sex, a confusion of masculine and feminine traits which exceeds the relative confusion which' is normal at the beginning of adolescence. Intimacy presupposes, therefore, a sense of one's iden-tity, a capacity to be oneself on the sexual level as on other levels: "The condition of a true twoness is that one must ÷ ÷ VOLUME 21, 1962 115' 4. 4. 4. W. de Bont, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS first become onself" (Erik Erikson, "Growth and Crises of ~he 'Healthy Personality' " in Personality in Nature, So-ciety, and Cultizre, C. Kluckhohn and H. Murray, eds. [New York: Knopf, 1956], p. 222). Anyone who has .not achieved his own identity can not have intimate relations with another. He will take refuge in a sterile isolation for fear of losing himself completely; or else he will turn him-self over to another body and soul borrowing the identity of the other to fill up his own void, in this way vainly seeking to resolve an identification which was not success- [ul in childhood. Different societies have very different means of helping through these difficulties the young man who is already physiologically, though not socially, adult: by demanding complete sexual continence; or by permitting sexual ac-tivities which do not lead to definitive social engagements; or by stimulating sexual play without intercourse (pet-ting). The purpose of this prop is to stimulate and to strengthen the ego and its identity. g) Authority: orientation or conIusion. The adulthood of a truly healthy man ought to be characterized by pro-. creativeness; this means assuming responsibility for' the. next generation by parenthood or by other forms of al-truism and creativity. A failure along this line means that' one is absorbed in his own problems instead of placing his energy at the service of others. This is a victory for narcissism: "Individuals who do not develop generativity often begin to indulge themselves as if they were their own one and only child" (Erikson, "Growth and Crisis of the 'H~althy Personality,' " op. cir., p. 223). What forecasts this approaching procreativeness in the young man is the ability to be either a leader or a follower according to circumstances. The attitude of the subject {n everything that conc(rns authority (exercising it or obey., ing it) is realistic. Any future failure of procreativity be-trays itself in the inability to lead or to follow when one of these two relationships is required. It is especially in sub-groups of his.companionsthat society gives the adolescent the opportunity to try out this strength in the area of aw thority. h) Ideological orientation or conIusion o] ideals. When he has arrived at maturity, the normal man has the sense of having completed his task as far as possible. He accepts responsibility for what he has made of his life and of his personal abilities. Having helped others to become them-selves, he can now pass on this responsibility to the next generation and withdraw from the scene. The man, on the contrary, who has not realized his potentialities for the service of others will experience despair and disgust with himself. He would like to begin his life over but realises that it is too late. His life is a failure whether he admits it to himself or hides it by projecting the blame onto others. This was the case with Father Joseph, that "grey emi-nence" whose double identity was mentioned above. At the end of his life, he felt the bitterness and frustration of a man who has seen God, but who, through his own fault, has lost Him in the attempt t6i'ser~ two mastersJ~loser to us, we have the story of, Sister Luke' and of all those who leave their communities around the age of forty. These two possible attitudes which can emerge at the crisis of maturity are foreshadowed with the'young man by an ideological orientation, "a choice among many val-ues of those which demand our allegiance"; or on the con-trary, by a chaos of ideals without connection or sy.nthe-sis. Society helps the young man here by proposing a variety of ideologies each of which may be useful to him in proportion to its internal consistency. The above paragraphs are a brief presentation of the eight criteria which, according to Erikson, show whether and how the young man succeeds in constructing an iden-tity of his own. If in one or other of the eight areas listed he does not succeed in extricating himself from the confu-sion engendered by this indispensable maturation of his personal identity, he risks becoming the victim of a more or less profound psychic derangement, which may assume the shape of one of the classical forms so thoroughly stud-ied by clinical psychology: symptomatic neurosis, charac-ter neurosis, delinquency, psychosis, and so on. In spite of the interest there might be in studying these personality troubles as functions of the eight dimensions enunciated by Erikson, it is more to our purpose to apply the light of what has been said about the identity crisis of the young man to a study of the problem of the novice, of his quest for identity, and of the crises which this quest may involve. Identity Crisis in the Novitiate The young man who arrives at the door of the novitiate already possesses a certain identity which is more or less well-founded. It shows itself in the choice he has made: to become a celibate instead of marrying; instead of becom-ing a doctor, engineer, or grocer, he aspires to a function in the Church. Moreover, he has chosen this particular community rather than some other. All these factors (cel-ibacy, priesthood, community) are so many aspects of the role which he wishes to play in life. Vaguely he sees him-self in the future as such and such a person, with a more or less specific function, whether it be that of preacher, pro-fessor, pastor, or diplomat attached to a nunciature. This role is the end product of the candidate's total past life, the synthesis of his previous psychic development, But after four months of ttie novitiate (the stage at which the novices who were the subject of our experiment had arrived), the ÷ ÷ ÷ Identity Crisis VOLUME 21, 1962 W. d~ Bont~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS great majority o[ novices are plunged into a more or less pronounced Crisis o[ identity. Signs oI the Crisis In the tests a considerable number of confusion symp-toms were.found, many more than in a group of students of the same age and background who were beginning their studies at a university. We cannot enter here into the more minute d~tails of these symptoms because of their too tech-nical nature; nevertheless, the following should at least be mentioned: a) The universal presence of a considerable anxiety. Anxiety is always an experience of the disintegration of the sell when old conflicts renew their attack. b) Equally striking was the great number of poor in-terpretations in the Rorschach, although they ought not to appear in a normal protocol. Even by using the Ameri-can scoring system of.Klopfer who tends to diminish their number, twenty-two out of twenty-eight novices gave them. This indicates a certain loss of contact with reality which is experienced as too hard, a retreat into phantasy which accompanies the identity crisis. c) Almost all the novices suffered from bisexual con-fusion with a reemergence of feminine traits. This was not manifested in overt sexual responses (except in two cases),, for the novitiate for the most part suppresses overt manifestations of sexuality. But it was visible, for example, in the defective sexual identifications given to the human figures on the Rorschach.cards and those of the T.A.T. (sixteen novices out of twenty-eight). d) Besides, seventeen out of twenty-eight subjects had a deficient image of their own body, according to their drawing of a human figure. This should not be surprising, for the image (more or less unconscious) we have of our own body is a visualisation of our identity. It is very sen-sitive to the influences of the environment; for example, to the interpretative power of clothing. The substitution of the religious garb, a skirt, for lay dress (masculine) has, from this point of view, a profound effect on one's sense of one's identity. "We identify ourselves with others by means of clothes. We become like them. By imitating their clothes we change our postural image of the body by taking over the postural image of others. Clothes can thu:; become a means of changing our body-image completely" (Paul Schilder, The Image and Appearance ol the Human Body [New York: International Universities Press, 1950], p. 204). The great number of deficient images of the body means that our subjects were in a siate of transition between their former identity (the "old man") and their new one. At the level of conscious behavior the crisis betrays it- self in all kinds of sentimental, per~ectionistic, depressive or even mildly paranoid traits. Brother Claude feels sad-dened by the November weather; another is not at ease working with the lay brothers in the garden; Robert thinks that his companions have something~against him when his prayer is not going well; Josephofeels depressed because he may not go out; and the imagination of John-Paul takes refuge in the past. As' for authority, almost all had a poorly balanced attitude, falling either into an exaggerated sub-missiveness or into revolt, or ifito indiscreet exercise of their own authority. Examples of these will be given later. The majority of the novices, then, manifested the two dimensions of the identity crisis which are at the heart of the religious life, for they relate to the vows of chastity and obedience: bisexual confusion and confusion with re-gard to authority. Catalysts of the Crisis The causes of the identity crisis can be summarized in this way: There is crisis, confusion, and disintegration be-cause the novitiate calls into question the initial identity with which the young man came to the novitiate. a) The young man already had a certain role in life before his entrance into the novitiate; he was president of his class, a member of Catholic Action, a well-known foot-ball player. He had a status in his environment, and be-cause of it he enjoyed the esteem of others. Entrance into the novitiate puts an end to all this. He changes his envir-onment and he must remake his reputation. Former modes of satisfaction no longer exist. A whole network of rela-tionships is broken; and it was precisely within this net-work that he found his own place, that he had realized, provisionally but really, his identity. All this he has to do over again. The impossibility of living out his identity in the old way almost inevitably causes a disintegration. The aspirations of the subject and almost their entire psychic substructure remain in suspension until they can be replaced by others or be reaffirmed. Before his novitiate Claude was in love with a some-what maternal girl who was a great help to him in his dif-ficulties. She forced him to become open, although in his own words he had tried to kill his sensitivity. She made an opening in his armor; he could communicate his ideal instead of pursuing it all alone. Separation from her at his entrance into the novitiate was difficult for him. His mem-ories of tenderness keep him alternating between melan-choly and aggressiveness. Arthur, the son of a farmer, is a young man whose strong ambition was enough to assure his success in stud-ies at the rural high school he attended, though from time to time he got on the nerves of his companions. In the ÷ ÷ VOLUME 21, 1962 ll9 novitiate he is more or less forgotten, for the smarter city boys leave him in the shadows. They take in with ease and naturalness everything that he had to fight hard for with an unremitting labor which had in turn cut him off from his modest origins. He can no longer play the role into which he had thrown all his energy. He has lost his place in society. He becomes depressed, grows still more ambi-tious in doing the Work of the novitiate, and becomes over sensitive to the least remarks of others. As for John-Paul, the role he wishes to play in life can be adequately summed up as that of an important priest, very esteemed by his people. Already at college he had to be first in the class to get admiration; and later, feeling himself crowded too closely by the other students, he plunged himself into extracurricular activities for the same reason. But the novitiate, the first step toward the realization of his identity as a priest, becomes a place of frustration and crisis. There he is far from college where he played a role of the highest rank and equally far from a friend whose affection gave him a sense of personal value. Here no one knows him. Hence his homesickness. During meditation he thinks of his friend, of past times, especially of those scenes in which he played an eminent role; or else he thinks of the future, he sees himself in the pulpit as a preacher. Evidently John-Paul is hypersensitive to the impression which he makes on the other novices; for example, in his reading at table. He takes great care with his hair, gives it a real coiffure, and contemplates himself in the mirror. b) Entry into the novitiate not only deprives the sub-ject of a part of his previous identity, but the community also wishes to change the candidate who comes to it in order to make him into a man who bears the community'.~ image and likeness; in other words, a religious with the spirit of his order. It is far from accepting the candidate as he is. The community has quite fixed ideas about what its members ought to become. Certain aspects of the nov-ice's previous identity, therefore, are necessarily destined for elimination while others must be developed to a more considerable degree. This is a changing of habits with its intellectual accompaniment--indoctrination. The conditions necessary for all indoctrination are (see Erikson, Young Man Luther [New York: Norton, 1958], p. 134): Isolation from the exterior world: family, friends, the old environment. Restriction of the sources of sensory stimulation and an immense value-increase in the power of words. The elimination of all private life, emphasis being placed on common life. Common devotion to the leaders who constitute and represent the community. The novitiate is a closed society; no influence is toler-ated there which would compromise the work of reforma-tion and indoctrination. Consequently no girls, no going out, no radio and television,.rio~,p6cket moridy~V~i~y~ ~ew visits. As for papers and magazines, only the more pious and serious ones will be allowed, In order to occupy the mind of the novice now emptied of worldly concerns, it is filled with spiritual teaching. So that he may be put on. the right road, the candidate is submitted to a daily pro-gram that is rigorous and unchanging and thateventually forms his mind as drops of water wear away stone. He is required to judge his own failings in the twice-daily ex-aminations of conscience. He may have no other company than that of the people who embody or partake of the desired ideal: the master of novices, his assistant, the other novices; there is no other model with whom he may iden-tify. The novitiate is, then, a dosed society in which the voice of indoctrination reverberates like an echo in an empty cave. For a change so profound must be brought about in the young man that once he has set out into the world upon his apostolic mission his' new identity must be the one which prevails over all previous attachments. He must himself become a representative and an incarnation of the spirit of his institute. That the "old man" feels uneasy in this hothouse should not be surprising. For example: Brother Yves states that: the isolation from people causes me some trouble, for I feel the need to be fully accepted as I am and also to be understood . My greatest fear about religious life and particularly about common life is that I may cease to be myself in order to fall into line. I fear a conformity in which all would be superficial and artificial, in which nothing would be assimilated, made per-sonal. I do not desire conformity, uniformity, stoic equanimity in my life. Here we discover an interesting difference between the two novitiates we have studied. In one, spiritual forma-tion is much more intense than in the other. The novices give reports of their spiritual progress to the master of novices, who follows and directs them very closely. The other master of novices, on the contrary, is a proponent of less exacting methods. In the "tight" novitiate, certain of the young men regressed to a point that was not reached by comparable novices in the more relaxed novitiate. Their crisis was more violent, for inevitably the less ac-ceptable aspects of their old identity were attacked with greater force. c) A third cause of the identity crisis in the novitiate ¯ comes from the fact that the previous ideas of the young man about the community of his choice are rarely real- 4. 4. 4. Identity Crisis VOLUME 21, 1962 121 ÷ ÷ ÷ 1¥. 4~ Bo~t, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 17.2 istic. Most often they are based on an idealized image of certain members of the community whom he knew before he entered either personally or through reading. He may imagine that every Franciscan is a Poverello, every Jesuit a Teilhard da Chardin, and every Dominican a Sertil-langes. He wishes to become like them. But he finds out very quickly that most of the members of the religious community are far from being the incarnation of this ideal, and then the novice frequently wonders whether his place is in the institute he has chosen, since it is of so little help to growth in his present identity. When Brother Irenaeus triumphantly ascertains that certain of the old fatheks do not practice what is demanded of the novices, his pride and his mistrust are the means by which he pro-tects his own high ideal. Francis, on the other hand, criti-cizes his fellow novices: they should be more perfect. He can't understand why they should be looking out the win-dow, why they should quarrel, or why they slip apples into their pockets after dinner to eat them in .their rooms. All this is personally disgusting to him. "If they entered religion to act like that . " And he is sorry that "medi-ocrity is not only found in the world, but also in the cloister." His excessive criticism is a means of defending himself against the temptation to do what they are doing, a temp-tation which is inadmissible because of a too rigid con-science. d) Finally, most communities have a great number of ministries to perform. It is often the decision of superiors which determines what role will later be assigned to the novice; whether he will be a missionary, a professor of apologetics, a parish priest, a teacher of the young, or the treasurer of the house. For one who has set his heart on the role of missionary, for example, obedience may create from the novitiate on a climate of uncertainty, a doubt about the possibility of realizing his role in life, his iden-tity. For we must not forget that one's identity is a synthe-sis of all one's previous development and hence it is not changed as one changes clothes. The novice ought, never-theless, to leave himself open to the possibility that the vow of obedience may make altogether a different thing of his life than what he thought. So it is that John-Paul wonders whether his superiors will let him go to the mis-sion where "the pagans, once converted to the faith of the gospel, will know better than the people of this coun-try the value of a priest." For he seeks everywhere the love and security he has up till now not found, and it was this quest which impelled him toward the priesthood. These four inevitable factors provoke an identity crisis in the novice which can go just "short of psychotic dis-sociation" (Erikson, Young Man Luther, op. cit., p. 134). This is a kind of fragmentation of the ego, a breakdown of the personality synthesis in a clash with the new en-vironment. The breach which the impact of this environ-ment makes in the synthesis is always located at its weakest point; that is, in certain conflicts Of the past Which Were poorly dealt with. In this serise,, the novitiate,brlngg .OUt the worst in oneself; the combined pressure of competition, adaptation to the level of the environment and the very rigid mode of life causes even the smallest weakness in the identity of the novice to burst fortl~. Beginners' Faults as Dimensions of the Crisis We can now parallel" the faults of beginners with Erik-son's eight dimensions of the identity crisis; for, according to our thesis, these faults are their equivalents in the re-ligious domain. As a matter of fact, it is not only the sogial life of the candidate which is troubled, but his spiritual life; all the more so since this constitutes the principal content of the life of the group and its members. We re-peat, we are studying the spiritual life here only under its psychological aspect and not at all under its theological aspect. a) Loss of perspective, the first of the dimensions of the identity crisis, betrays itself on the spiritual plane by a lack of patience, by a failure to apprehend that religious development has both its heights and its depths as does any other human evolution. This quest for the immediate is evident in spiritual gluttony and in its counterpart, dis-taste for spiritual realities when they do not procure a sensible satisfaction. It is equally to be found in those who wish. to push precipitously ahead. In his spiritual life Brother Mark seeks the love and consolation he did not receive enough of when he was little. In high school he created an environment for him-self which answered more or less adequately to his needs. But the change of environment deprives him of this sup-port and obliges him.to seek it elsewhere, in God. He seeks "the divine presence, a mysterious presence which I try to locate in myself without success. Each of my members dis-covers new sensations at this moment.". But when the quest does not succeed, "I feel a kind of di~sgust without reason or apparent motive. At such times Jesus does not seem to satisfy me; I thirst for something else too vague to be men-tioned or clearly defined." For Andrew, the need to rush ahead and a false apostolic zeal arose when common life and the demands of the no-vitiate for a change in his habits simultaneously reinforced a precocious superego and the unacceptable impulseg he was trying to harness] The unrealistic demands proper to these last two "imperfections" cause this novice not to feel at home with his less demanding comrades and his father ÷ ÷ ÷ Identity Crisis VOLUME 21~ 1962 ÷ W. de Bont, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS master who are themselves far from accepting with benev-olence this excess of zeal. To novices who have such difficulties the religious com-munity provides a helpful balancing factor in the per-spective of the future it opens to them. They are told of the various stages of the spiritual life; in the religious life there is a step-by-step education over several years (no-vitiate, philosophical and theological studies, ordina-tion.). There is a daily program set up in detail and firmly enforced. Finally, the candidate is promised cer-tain success in this world or in the next if he perseveres. b) Lack of assurance manifests itself in all those im-perfections which seek to hide certain defects by an im-moderate reaction: excessive shame for faults, a too literal adherence to the rules, indiscrete mortifications. Two ex-amples have already been given (B~'others Irenaeus and Francis). The novitiate offers the novices a provisional protection against their initial clumsiness in the unifor-mity it imposes in observances, clothing, spirituality. With this protection the novice is able to regain little by little the confidence in himself which was upset by the causes listed above. c) Pusillanimity in the spiritual life can be considered a failure to experiment with various roles; and certain forms of jealousy (of the progress of others) and of hypo-chondria (in connection with fasting, for example) can be considered as derivatives of Oedipal conduct. So it was that Henry, who was not able to identify with his dead father in order to attain, at least in his imagination, a superiority over his brothers which would give him a spe-cial title to the love of fiis mother, wished to carry on his apostolate in such a way that "after my departure people will forget completely that I was ever around, and that it was I who handled mattersY Fearing competition he does not dare to push himself forward. By always doing exacdy as the others, by effacing himself, he denies that he is dif-ferent, jealous, guilty of favoritism. In this case, the novitiate tries above all to encourage him to attempt one role, that of the apprentice religious. The novitiate is nothing else but an initiation into this role, begun with the taking of the habit as an exterior sign of the status which will be had henceforth in the com-munity and continued every day in the life of the novice. d) Paralysis about work clearly reveals itself in the dif-ficulties which the novice has from time to time in his spirit.ual exercises, meditation, examination of conscience, recitation of the Breviary. For Henry, for example, exami-nations of conscience remain at the surface of his person-ality. He fears lest his jealousy and anxiety come to the surface. Religious educators do everything in the noviti- ate to allow positive fulfillment, by teaching the novice suitable methods for achieving success in this domain. e) Lack of identity or confusion of roles manifests itself in a vague feeling of not b.eing at home in the novitiate, by nostalgia for the past, by the impo.ssibility of finding a place and a role in the communi~y: Examples Were" given above. The novitiate seeks to remedy this by encouraging the recruit to identify with his community by proposing to him in an exclusive way the spirit of the congregation or the order. f) Bisexual confusion manifests itself by all sorts of dif-ficulties with sex: the sexualization of religious life, for example, in sexual impulses at the moment of communion or confession; in particular friendships unddr the cloak of a spiritual relationship; in scruples about ~bad thoughts." Brother Guy, for example, transfers to Christ and St. John his tender feelings about a friend whom he has left in the world: You must have embraced very tenderly, as gently as do two beloved people spontaneously when one has acquired the other's special admiration; when one wishes to protest more deeply his profound joy in and friendly respect for the other. I would have liked to spend with the two of you those long evenings beneath the stars, as I had the happiness to spend them with James, speaking no doubt of Your ambitions, become those of Jol~n s~nce You loved him so tenderly, and he loved You. This transfer is meant to fill the void left by the impos-sibility of continuing an earthly friendship. What the novice should learn here, with the help of his spiritual director, is to renounce the exercise of his sex-ual faculty while at the same time .developing his manli-ness. This is impossible unless this renunciation is in-spired by valid and for the most part conscious motives ("for the kingdom.of God'i)and as little as possible af-fected by fear, shame, distaste, or guilt. g) The lack of reasonable attitudes with respect to au-thority is expressed by a crowd of symptoms: an extrava-gant docility, revolt against authority, a kind of freezing up in relations with superiors; too great a zeal to convert others where the aim is much more to resolve one's own problems than to help one's neighbor. 'Michael, for ex-ample, is so docile as to worry the master of novices some-what. He wants to be told what to do; he never resists; he has the spirit of. sacrifice; anything may be asked of him. If he is nettled, he gives a start and then merely smiles. His spiritual ideal is~ complete abandonment to God. He wishes to forget himself in order to be concerned only for God and His interests. Michael is a young man Whose mother thwarted him in his desire :for masculine inde-pendence. At the conscious level he submitted but uncon-sciously he rebelled against her. In the novitiate obedience 4. 4. Identity Crisis 1~5 4- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is a most important matter and there are very few possi-bilities for aggressivity (for example, sports) left open to him. His problem, then, is accentuated. It may be under-stood, then, that for him God and the master of novices are conceived after the image of his mother. Peter's sense of his priestly mission still has "some end other than a supernatural one." The reason for this is that by a slightly megalomaniac identification with pater-nal authority, of which he makes himself the prophet, he is protecting himself against a feeling of persecution. The image he has of his father is split into two, and his feelings are equally divided. Everything good about his father is projected into God, everything bad into the devil. Accord-ingly, to save the world by his apostolate means in fact to preserve the connection with the good parent (God) and to eliminate the bad (the devil). Since the novitiate is a completely masculine society and at the 'same time by it.~ nature demands obedience, it further accentuates the con. flicts about sexuality and authority which underlie thi:~ apostolic identity (according to psychoan.alytic theory, the paranoid personality is rooted in homosexualized relation-ships with the father, the representative of authority in the family); but at the same time it makes the experience o[ the apostolate impossible for the time being. One may not go out during .the novitiate, and so the balance of forces in Peter is upset. The master of novices will have the difficult task of teaching the novices the just mean between the docility of a sheep and revolt at the barricades, as in the case of the novice who barricaded his door when the superior knocked to get him to rise (he always got up late). To give the novices certain opportunities for leadership frora the novitiate on may contribute to the development of the orientation which is desirable in this domain. h) Finally, a confusion of ideals is the most obvious thing about the novices who do not yet know whether they want to stay or leave the novitiate to return to the world or who hesitate to choose among several communities, Brother Mark has grave doubts about his perseverance because he is torn between a "worldly" past made entic-ing by the admiration he commanded at school and tile frustrations of his present conventual life caused by the lack of tenderness and esteem received from others. Spir-itual training here seeks to take away all ambivalence by presenting the novice with the ideology of his order and excluding all other ideologies (newspapers are ban-ishedl). A certain simplification results from this which sometimes becomes a caricature; one novice will think he is living the "pure gospel" because he walks .around in sandals as the apostles did; another will think he has found the perfect balance between contemplation and action because in his community Compline is sung in common before sleep. When the new identity of the nov-ice is sufficiently established, this simplification will no longer be necessary. Psychologically speaking, the faults of beginners are merely attempts to maintain'. Or to reestablish 15rovision-ally the psychic equilibrium which has been upset by the impact of the environment, an impact which has struck the novice at the weakest points of his former identity. As Father Mailloux has said, they are not "typically pathological reactions per se, but rather.irrational modes of expression, upon which the psychic apparatus will normally fall back whenever an individual is unable to cope with a stressful situation in some rational man-ner" (Rev. Noel Mailloux, O.P., "Sanctity and the Prob-lem of Neurosis," Pastoral Psychology, 10 [February, 1959], 40). For in successful cases the novice readjusts; he incorporates the identity elements offered him by the religious environment into the best which his identity al-ready has and gets rid of the less acceptable elements. Having provoked the crisis, a well-directed novitiate helps also to heal it. And once the adaptation is made and the novice has regained his place, this time in the community of his choice, his beginner's faults disappear like hay fever when the season has passed. In less successful cases, there is a failure. Concord be-tween' the identity of the novice and the demands or the support of the environment remains impossible: The reasons may come from two quarters: a lack of flexibility in the subject consequent upon an identity too charged with conflict as with the brother of the barricades cited above who left his community a little later,, or on the part of the community which is unable to Offer the novice the place which he seeks for his gifts and his particular abilities as in that sufficiently large novitiaite where .eighty percent of the novices left because of a master of novices still living spiritually in the nineteenth' century. The shock was the greater for them as their previous educa-tion was the more liberal. Conclusion We have studied in this article the psychological side of this night of the senses which the novitiate arouses by its very nature. By uprooting the candidate from his for-mer environment, it deprives him of the support which his identity enjoyed before in order to invite him to a higher spiritual balance. Our perspective, it is true, has been a restricted one; we have described only what the novitiate may have in common with any identity crisis studied by the psychologist. On this plane, the crisis of the novice resembles that of a young man who prepares 4. ÷ Identity Crisis VOLUME 21, 1962 W. de Bo~t, 0~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]28 himself for army service at West Point, or who leaves hi.q small-town home to go to a large, university--although course the crisis has a different content according as concerns military formation, the situation of a student, or religious training---celibacy and examinations of con-science do not figure largely in a military perspective. For methodological reasons we have left aside that which con~ .stitutes the very essence of the life of the novitiate: the introduction to the life of consecration to God to which by His grace He has invited the novice. It is this properly spiritual aspect which masters of novices are best ac-quainted with, and they can guide themselves in this by a solidly established spiritual theology. Our only inten-tion has been to draw their attention to the psychological side of this introduction to sanctity, a side which it 'is better not to be totally ignorant of. The "follies" of nov-ices should not be seen as faults which are exclusively in the moral order, as pride, for example, considered as the capita) sin. There is question rather of provisional, and unsuccessful efforts to adapt oneself to a new situation; hence they are normal phenomena which always arise under one form or another when a man must remake the synthesis of his personality. Nevertheless, they are real difficulties and not imaginary, often very painful for the subject who undergoes them and annoying for those around him. The wisdom of an alert master of novices will assuage much of this human pain, and this the more so as he knows better the identity of the novice in ques. tion, with its strong points and its weak. This present article is limited to describing the iden-tity crisis of the novice. It does not pretend to furnish the elements of a possible prognostication. If almost all nov, ices undergo this crisis in some degree or other, how, among so many of the "imperfect," can those who will persevere be singled out from those who will leave or merely mark time for the rest of their lives? This is an important question, for the novitiate terminates with a profession which, even though it be temporary, repre-sents a real and very profound commitment. Certain re-marks of St. John of the Cross (Dark Night, 1, 9) coukl provide us with a point of departure for such a consid- ¯ eration; but this task must be reserved to a later article. PAUL W. O'BRIEN, S.J. Introducing the Young Sister to Prayer One of the problems facing the young sister is learning to pray. She h~is probably been pra

Issue 10.4 of the Review for Religious, 1951. ; A. M. D.G. ~o Review for Religious JULY 15, 19 51 Our Aged Religious . Sister Mary Jafie Redemptorls÷ Spiri÷uali÷y. . Joseph I~t. Coller~n Recollectio"n Day Ouestions " ° Winfrld Herbsf Elections and Appointments . Joseph F. Gallen Grow÷h through the Eficharls÷ Anselm Lacomara ins÷ruction on Sponsa Christi , List of Psychometric Tests Communications Book Reviews VOLUME X NUMBER 4 Rfi::::VII::::W FOR Ri:::LIGIOUS VOLUME X JULY, 1951 NUMBER Jr CONTENTS SOME PROBLEMS OF OUR AGED RELIGIOUS-~Sister MaryJane, O.P1.69 COMMUNICATIONS ': 173 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 174 VACATION SCHOOL IN SOCIAL ACTION .1.7.4 REDEMPTORIST. SPIRITUALITY--Joseph M. Colleran, C.SS.R. 175 QUESTIONS FOR MONTHLY RI~CO~LECTION-- Winfri~l.Herbst, S.D.S . 185 ELECTIONS AND APPOINTMENTS--Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. 187 GROWTH IN GRACE THROUGH THE EUCHARIST-- Anselm Lacomara, C. P .200 HERESY OF RACE 204 INSTRUCTION ON 8PONSA CHRISTI . 205 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 19. Sister Digna's List of Psychometric Tests . 213 BOOK REVIEWS~ Religious Life and Spirit: Living the Mass; Jesus.Christ; The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius . 217 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS " 222 FOR YOUR INFORMATION-- Morality and Alcoholism; The Good Confessor; Seventy Years 224 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, July, 1951, Vol. X. No. 4. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approba~tion. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka. Kansas, under the act: of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Editorial Secretary: Jerome Breunig, S. J. Copyright, 1951. by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Before writ;ncj to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. Some Problems ot: Our Aged Religious Sister Mary Jane, O.P. THE problems of old religious are the problems of each and every one, for none of us is getting any younger. The proverbial old-fashioned rocker on the farmhouse porch where Granny could drowse away her honored last years has vanished, but Granny has not and neither has the aged religious. Never before our generation was the old age problem Sb great because there never were so many old folks. "Statistics tell us that today men and women sixty-five and overc~prise seven per cent of our population. Science has graciously presented another twenty years or more. Religious as well as others must plan what they are going to do. Sixty-Fiue is Young One wonderful and bright fact is that there are numerous reli-gious, both men and women, over sixty-five who are still,:bearing a large share of the burden of the community's w6rk. Dodge and Ford proved that old folks can work; they maintained old-age shops whose able personnel included men in their eighties. Long before either of the above thought of this, religious communities were taking it for granted. Sixty-five in a religious community is usually con-sidered young. Rarely does one find a religious who even considers retiring at that age, or at any age for that matter. How often one finds religious teaching school or doing other types of work at the ripe age of seventy-five and eighty. The author knows a religious who still goes out collecting alms for the community at the age of ninety-two. ~ During the past two wars employers in general were del~ighted with the oldsters' low accident and absenteeism rates,, as well as with their strategy in attacking problems. They were proud o'f the pro-duction power of that proportion of their workers. We, too, have every right to be proud of our aged religious. In the United States most old people subsist on some form ot~ organized "handout.," A few may enjoy adequate pensions from private sources,'frorr/civil service retirement allowances, Veteran allot- 169 SISTER MARY JANE Review [or Religious o merits, or old age relief or insurance. For others, an unfinanced senescence is likely to ,be dreaded: Often, it means ending up in a pub-li~ or private "nursing home." Not so our religious brethren; there is not this-fear for a member of a community. A few religious com-munities have a home for their dear ones, some with a'long waiting list. Waiting, yes, waiting for one or more to be called home for the longed-Ior eternal reward, but. waiting, too, to "occupy the places made vacant. What about the ~ged religious who cannot be admitted to these havens for some reason or other? The Housing Problem Where should these aged religious live? No one would deny them the balmy ease of Orlando, if they could have it. The public institution is out of the question. Some communities have done much but others have mad~ slight provision for their aged members either ih the past or at present. '~In many cases existing conditions and facilities are pitifully inadequate. It is undeniable that unless some corrective measures are set in motion, this already serious prob-lem'will become more acute as the average life expectancy climbs higher. Perhaps many more of the aged religious should be living with their communities, but, where this is not feasible, they ought to have a'special home ~where they may be left alone, but where they can obtain help when they need it. We all agree, that individualization in the care of o~r aged religious is preferable to institutionalization. There is hardly an institutional home for the aged which does not mingle the sick with the near-sick. More often than not, the latter need nothing more than custodial care. It is true that the pressure of modern .urban living makes domestic adaptability between age groups difficult and in many cases well nigh impossible. The aged find it difficult to change their habits so late in life. Nevertheless, many religious can and do get along together, particularly where th~ old religious remember the Golden Rule and the younger ones bear in mind that Our Lord said, "What you have done to these, you have done to Me." Some Symptoms o[ Age Old age is a gradual progression toward deterioration. It often shows symptoms of growing self-interest and lack of impressibility. Important events are no 19nger significant to old people as long as they do not touch directly upon their lives. There is usually a gen- 170 Jul~,1951 OUR AGED RELIGIOUS eral reduction in mental effidency, forgetfulness, arid loss of memory for recent events. Other symptoms include the tendency to reminisce and to fabricate, intolerance of change--routine must be observed and must never be disturbed lest irritability and tension rise--a rest-less desire to be up and about, to travel here and there, "frequently getting lost in transit (whether in or out of the monastery or con-vent) ; insomnia, and a tendency to putter aimlessly about the house and gardens. The t.endency to live in the pasi is very strong in some. Others show a total lack o~ interest in everything about them. Some are unsympathetic and indifferent, and the mood may ,change frequently and even without ~any apparent cause. Some ma~. be cooperativd, orderly, and quiet, and give very little trduble, .While others are untidy, meddlesome, 'and rcstless; Very.'often aged people become resistive when they think they a~.e: being coerced by those who are younger. One may even hear such expressions as "That fresh young thing!" Some Solutions The psychology of persuasion may have t'o called iflt.6.play to meet behavior problems that arise. Various stages of senility can effect disposition changes that necessitate parti.cular ~tre.atnlent and care. A great need is companionship. At its best old age is°a lonely existence, to say the least, and must be brightened by cheerful com-panions and a staff with a sense of humor. Everyone, we are told, comes into this life with three strong fundamental drives or needs: (1) the need of security; (2) the need fcr affection; (3) the need to do things for others or to mean some-thing to others. Frustration of these ftlnda~nental needs, even among religious, causes tension which makes the individual uncomfortable. The persistence of this tendency may be the beginning of a. nervous condition. Disability and chronic illness in the ageing and aged religious are increasing. The burden upon the communities, is already very large. It clearly threatens to increase year by year, unless something effective is done now to better conditions. . Nou) is the Time What can be done now with our young and middle-aged to make them strong, able, and competent to contribute to the general welfare and happiness during their declining years instead of being a burden to their fellow religious and themselves. This is a matter of concern 171 SISTER MARY JANE Reoieu~ [or Religious to each and every one of us. The time has come to speak out. It is not enough for y, ounger members to feel the wave of sentimental pity that sometimes sweeps over them today. It is not enough to provide the physical comforts of shelter, food, and clothing for these aged religious. These dear ones must be understood now by their fellow religious. Now,. too, they must learn to understand them-' SelVeS, The author is not bitter, but sometimes has to count to ten or perhaps whisper an "Ave Maria" to hold back angry words provoked by thoughtless acts, looks, and sometimes even just the tone of voice directed at some aged ~eliglous. If only everyone remembered how little they like. to be singled out as special beings! The attittide.of others is often a great handicap. It may be the lack of belief, the misdirected ~sympathg, sometimes the lack of sympathy, or the failure to regiird the aged one as an individual. Abrasions and fractures may heal, but a broken spirit will not. Often the feeling of younger religious towards the aged of their community combines pity and confusion. The pity may express itself in remarks like: "Isn't that sad?': "Too bad, we ought to be thank-ful." "She's old enough to die." "She served her purpose." Is there perhaps "no room" for the old religious? Again, why do some always make the mistake of thinking that all aged religious are deaf? Needless to say, over-hearing such remarks will hardly boost their morale. If this is what we ageing religious must look forward to as our life-span is extended, we may find ourselves agreeing that there are worse things in life than dying young or dying suddenly. Belonging What the aged religious wants more than anything is to be treated like everyone else, to feel that he belongs to the community, that he is stil! wanted. Belonging is the big thing. The penalties of old age are aggravated with rustication, particularly when undesir-ability, is felt. The aged religious should not be ruled out of any social life in the community nor excluded from recreations. Even when they cannot do the things the younger generation does, they like to watch. It makes, them part of what is going on. An occa-sional movie or a short excursion is sometimes most welcome. Ap-propriate occupations and recreations should be provided. Some religious are more efficient at seventy than others at fifty. Old people --religious are no exception--should be kept as active as possible to I72 ' duly, 1951 COMMUNICATIONS' make rise of their skills and preserve their morale. When they are occupied, they are happy. Properly selected bccupational .therapy exercises arthritic hands and encourages the use of affected extremltle~, preventing complete invalidism. Most activities tend to. stimulate normal functions and to counteract the tendency to apathy, brooding, and introspection. Anything that will preserve the self respect and dignity of old age should be appropriated .for the rise of our elderly religious. They should not be permitted to lose their identity in an atmosphere of depressing gloom and finality. Sickness or dependence of any kind is often a. degrading enough experience in itself. Above all, we must not call attention to their infi~rfiities, if they have any, not even with affectionate attention. Sur.~ly, .it is their right and privilege to have their few remaining years happy and free from worry. The aged are here td stay for longer periods th~n ever. The living and working conditions, then, of our dear aged religious should be a considerate concern of every one. And besides, none of us is getting any younger. Communications Reverend Fathers : In the March issue of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, I read with consternation ,the letter of,Sister M. Catherine Eileen, S.H.M. Since one might be misled by Sister's optimism (justifiable in her particular case), I think a little more information on the fenestration operatiori is essential.' A.few of Sister's statements also should be clarified. Sister writes: "There is fenestration surgery now to cure the type of deafness known as otosclerosis." However, men who have dis-tinguished themselves in this work say that it is only an amelioration of this disease and a restoration of serviceable hearing in suitable cases and,the~results are not as yet individually predictable. There are some who would disagree with Sister when she sa'ys, "Any otologist can diagnose this most prevalent kind of deafness." They hold that there is no method upon which one can depend with absolute certainty for the diagnosis of otosclerosis and that surgery on one afflicted with pathology wbich simulates but is n6t otoscler-osis will not improve the hearing of the individual. 173 COMMUNICATIONS "Some'time to re~over" may mean a period of years accompanied by a discharging ear. Whether or not the operation is successful, the ear will require care for the remainder of the patient's life, i.e., peri-odic visits to the ear specialist. This perhaps is not too great a price if the hearing is improved but rather a steep one if no improvement has resulted. Sister's" c~se does seem successful and I don't wonder she is so enthusiastic. To those whose hopes might have been raised by Sis-ter's zeal, I should say seek the advice of one who has an enviable reputation in the field of ear surgery. May I quote'one such otol-ogist, "In a suitable case the decision between operation and a hearing aid is a question which should be decided by the individual." Anyone who is further interested may write to the American Hearing Society, Washington 7, D. C., and get a copy of Hearing NewS, March 1948, from which I have taken the information con-tained in this letter. The New York League for the Hard of Hearing did not have any later available data on the subject. --SISTER HELEN LOYOLA, C.S.J. ' OUR CONTRIBUTORS JOSEPH M. COLLERAN, the translator of St. Augustine's Greatness of Soul and The Teacher in the "Ancient Christian Writers" series, is a professor of philosophy at Mount St. Alphonsus Seminary, Esopus, New York. SISTER MARY JANE taught both elementary and high school' for twenty-five years before entering the fidld of nursing. She is now an affiliate at the Brooklyn State Hospital for the mentally ill. ANSELM LACOMARA, a missionary and writer, is from Our Mother of Sorrows Monastery, West Sprihgfield, Massachusetts. WINFRID HERBST, au-thor and retreat master, is on the faculty of the Salvatorian Seminary, St. Nazianz, Wisconsin. JOSEPH F. GALLEN is a professor of canon law at Woodstock Col-lege, Woodstock, Maryland. VACATION SC~HOOL IN SOCIAL ACTION St. Francis Xavier University, Antigonish, Nova Scotia, is offering a vacation school in social action for priests and seminarians from August 14-25. There will be lecture courses, combining exposition and opportunity for discussion, on the spiritual foundation of social action and on organizing the parish for social action. The director is the Reverend D. MacCormack. 174 Redemptorist: Spirit:ualit:y Joseph M. Colleran, C.SS.R. WHEN St. Alphonsus de Liguori, in 1732, gathered a groupof ¯ priests and brothers to form the Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer, he intended primarily to 6rganize a band of missionaries to evangelize the neglected country districts of his native Kingdom of Naples, and later, of other parts of the world, and everywhere to preach redemption and repentance to "the most abandoned souls." That its concentration upon this precise .field of apostolic activity constitutes the sole feature disting.uishing the con-" gregation from other religious institutes is the impression given, upon first reading, by the .explanatory constitutions which the saint added in 1764, and which, in this respect, remain the same today. "Every Religious Institute proposes to itself a two-fold end:the first is its own sanctification, the second the salvation of the people and the good of the Church. The former is general, the latter special, and it is by this that the various. Religious Orders differ from one. another . With regard to the second end, by which we ,are dis-tinguished from all other Orders and Religious InstitUtes within the Church, the Rule enjoins that . . . by preaching l~he Word'of God, we should labor to lead the people to a holy life~, especially those who, being scattered in villages and hamlets, are ,most deprived of spiritual help--and this is our specific end" (Constitutions 1 and 5). From the very beginning, howeverl Alphonsus himself practiced, and inculcated upon his spiritual family, a type'of spirituality that would best fit in with this apostolic purpose and would be a distinc-tive mark of his little congregation. This pattern of ascetical formation became more clear and systematic as time went on, and its principles were more exactly formularized as the saint undertook to publish for his followers and for the universal Church, his popular and practical treatises on ascetical and pastoral theology. St. Alphonsus realized deeply that fruitful apostolic activity and personal sanctity were inextricably connected. The sermon that is most effective is the one' that has been lived before it is preached. The asceticism that is most valuable to an apostle is the one that most readily overflows into works of zeal and charity. For that reason he insisted upon an exact proportion between the active labors of the 175 JOSEPH M. COLLERAN Revieud for Religious ministry and the retired contefnplation of.the monastery. He would have his priests be "Carthusians at home and apostles abroad." It was always his ideal that missionaries spend no more than six months of each year in the actual work of the missions, "lest the active life overbalance the contemplative, to their spiritual loss" (Const. 108). He:would have the Coadjutor Brothers, who are engaged in prayer and domestic work, as well as the Sisters of the co.mpanion institu'te, the "Redemptoristines,", not only consecrate themselves to self-sanctification, but also offer their labors and devo~ tions vicariously for the success of the missions. Thus, the saint's pastoral and ascetical directions are inseparable, and together they indicate the spirit of the institute that would continue his labors and copy his way of living with God. The Facets ot: Love Our Lord tells us that the great commandment, for the apostle to preach and for the religious to practice to perfection, is to Iove the Lord thq God u2ith thai whole heart (Mark 12:30),°and St. Paul likewise makes it plain that all Christians must above all things bare cbaritg, which is the bond of perfection (Col. 3:14). While some masters of the spiritual life propose the practice of the various spe-cific virtues as means toward the acquisition of love--so that morti-fication, for example, arises from penance and leads to love--others, like Saints Bernard, Bonaventure, Francis de Sales, propose love as the beginning, th~ seed out of which the other virtues grow. X~v'ithin this second, so-called "seraphic" school, Alphonsus must be num-bered. 1 Love, he recognized, includes and requires both hope and fear. Against Jansenism, whose rigoristic spirit, despite its condemnation, was still deterring sinners from approaching God with confidence and was influencing confessors to demand signs of perfect love before they would grant absolution and permit Communion, the Saint inveighed vigorously. For his more benign practices, he was accused of laxity.At the same time, be fell prey to charges of severity from writers who, holding on to relics of Quietism, were averse to strenu-ou~ ascetical activity, under the pretext of passive indifference. He insisted that his missionaries r~alistically set before the people, to incite them to conversion and fervor, the reality of hell. And out of :tCf. A. Desurmont, C.SS.R., Oeuores Completes, tome 1, L'Art d'Assurer Son Salut. Paris, Libraire de la Sainte Famille, 1906. Introduc~don, p. 23 f. See also C. Keusch, C.SS.R., Die Aszetik des hi. Alfons Maria v6n Liguori. Pader-born, Bonifacius-Druckerei, 1926. P. 236 f. 176 July, 1951 REDEMPTORIST SPI'RITU~ALITY his own missionary experiences,' he formed judgments that other saints and doctors would probably not have expressed so boldly for instance: "If God had not created be!l, wh6 in. the whole world would love Him? If, with hell existing as it really does, the greater part of men choose rather to be damned than to love Almighty God, who, I repeat, would love Him were there no hell? And therefore the Lord threatens those who will not love Him, with an eternal punishment, so that those who will not love Him out of love may at least love Him by force, being constrained to do so through fear of falling into hell.''-~ The keynote of all his exhortations is'salvation, the individual participation in the merits of Christ's Redemption, and salvation is to be. worked out with fear and trembling (Philipp. 2:12). This fear, or more exactly, this love that involves fear, has a function in every grade of the spiritual life. In sinners, Alphonsus aimed to awaken fear by warning them of the eventual limit to the sins that God would forgive, and the limit .to the graces that God would provide. He tirelessly reminds them of the imminence of death, the terrors of hell, the imperative need of conversion. He warns them solemnly" of the fearful dangers of the "occasions of sin." "In regard t9. those striving for perfection', he also has recourse to the motive of fear, although it is prin.c.i.i0Mly the filial fear of losing God and of losing the special graces that are attached to a higher vocation. He voices the warning that although vocation to the religious state is a free gift that does.not imply a strict obligation, yet because special graces are attached i!o this state, it 'is most difficult to attain salvation if one neglects his vocation. Because perseverance is a grace that can be lost by failure to pray, and by lack of correspondence with grace, there is still reason, even in the state of pe.rfeCtion, to fear. (In his own congregation, he added to the three customary vows, a vow and oath of perseverance.) In re~ard to religious, too, he strikds hard at "tepidity," which he identifies as the habit of deliberate venial sin, and which he considers a state to be avoided" with fear. If the saint seems at times encouraging and at times severe, it is only because he is presenting, one at a time and each in its own clarity, the facets of love: confidence and fear. It is, however, con-fidence that predo.minates: "If we have great reason to fear ever-lasting death on account of our offences against God, wfi have, on 2Ditzine Love, II, in The Way of,Salvation and of Perfection, part III. Brookl~n, Redemptorist Fathers, 1926. P. 311 f. 177 JOSEPH M. COLLERAN Review for Religious the other hand, far greater reason to hope for everlasting life through the merits of Jesus Christ, which are infinitely more able to bring tlon.ab°ut" ,,a°ur salvation, than our sins are to bring about our damna- The Practice o[ Love In complete harmony with the long tradition of saints and theo-logians, but with an insistence and clarity peculiarly hi~s own, Alphonsus points out that the measure and the practical test of love of God is conforroit~. , or better, uniformity, of one's will with the Will of God. "Conformity" ~.involves the acceptance of whatever God intend~ for us or permits to happen to us. "Uniformity" sig-nifies our blending our own will as it were, into the Divine Will, so that we .never desire but wh.'a~"[God desires, and there remains only the Will of God, which becomes our own. "The entire perfection of the love of God," the saint writes, "consists in making our own will one with His most holy will . The more united a person is with the Divine Will, the greater will be his love of God . This is the summit of the perfection to which we must be ever aspiring. This has to be the aim of all our work, all our desires, all our meditations and prayers.''4 For Redempto~rists especia.lly, as Alphonsus conceives their voca-tion, uniformity with the Will of God involves two essential require-me, nts. The first is negative: detachment from all created things. The second, more positive means, is imitation of Christ the Redeemer. Detachment While, of course, the conception of detachment is not new with Alphonsus, he gave it such emphasis and priority that he made it a distinctive characteristic of his ascetical doitrine. "Detachment" signifies the exclusion from the heart of everything that is inordinate and alien to perfection; it invplves the denial to self of anything material that does not serve sanctification; it implies the performance of unpleasant rather than of pleasant actions, and greater charity toward the ungrateful than toward the grateful, as signs and means of more ardent love of God; it even requires the sacrifice of certain 3Tbe Practice of the Love of Jesus Christ, Introd., III, in The Hol~t Eucharist. Brooklyn, Redemptorist Fathers, 1934. P. 285 f. 4Conformit£l with the Will of God, I, in The Way of Salvation and of Perfection, part-III, pp. 353, 358. 178 duly, 1951 REDEMPTORIST SPIRITUALITY virtuous actions when the higher demands of charity or obedience conflict with them.5 So important did he consider this purification of the heart as a preparation for advancement in perfection that in the little treatise, The True Redemptorist, which he wrote for his first members, he confines himself to this one point, and reduces the special requirements of any applicants to _a four-fold detachment: from the comforts of life, from relatives, from self-esteem, and from self-will. ¯ The practice of poverty he kept as strict and uncompromising as an active apostolate would allow; and the peculium and any other method of private control of material things, he excluded rigorously from the very beginning. The "common life" he. ev.e.r.,g.uarded jeal-ously, and he manifests his legal tr.aining in the deta~i'~'and precision of his enumerations of things allowed and forbiddeti." The things provided for common use, the amount of the portions at table, the size, number, and materials of various furnishings for the rooms be determined with exactitude and uniformity. Under the vow of poverty is incIuded the renunciation of a bishopric or any other ecclesiastical dignity or benefice outside, the congregation, unless the Holy Father commands its acceptance. Knowing from experience, sometimes from the bitter experience of defections from his infant institute, that the people of his time and land were often loath to permit their sons to make sacrifice of themselves in r~llgion, he was adamant about detachment from rela-tives. In answer to a request from a sick. subject who wanted to go home for the freshness of his native air, he replied that "home air is always pestilential to the religious spirit." When one who was ill offered to go to his relatives, to save expense to the community, he quickly answered that the congregation would sell ~ts books to take care of the sick. The strictness of the saint's rules and written'com-ments on detachment from seculars is balanced by his efforts to promote in his communities the hospitality and brotherliness of family life. Insistent as be is that individual desires be restricted to needs, he is even more insistent that .t.he community provide for every need to the extent that is possible. Self-esteem and independence of will he opposed as mortal dis-eases. Not only did be insist on individuals giving up all ambition for preferment and distinction, but he would have the'institute itself 5Detachment from Creatures in The Way of Salvation and of Perfection, part II, XLI; also Divine Love, ibid., pp. 317-19. 179 JOSEPH M. CoLLERAN Review for Religious humbly accounted the least of all in the Church. Although the work for which each must be ready is preaching, he deprecated'anyone's: putting himself forward to preach without waiting for designation by superiors. "He only has the spirit of the institute," he wrote, "who enters it with the desire of practicing obedience, and,of sub-mitting peacefully to be put away in some corner without having any employment, happy that the good is done by others, while he himself will only do that which is.directly imposed upon him by obedience, without having asked for it.''~ "Re-living the Redemption The imitation of Christ that he proposed to his members is not only the general one that is obligatory on all, but a concentration upon the formally redemptive phase of Christ's life, the motto of his congregation being Gopiosa Apud Eum Redemptio. This emphasis affects both the active apostol~te and the ascetical development of Redemptorists. " They are to be employed only in those tasks that have to do directly with the salvation of souls, and indeed, so far.as is ordi-narily possible, only in those that Christ and His ApoStles per-formed. Hence the principal field of labor is the conducting of mis-sions, in ~vhich the essential and fundamental truths are preached, with a view to converting souls from sin to the state of grace, from inconstancy to perseverance in virtue, and from ordinary fidelity to Christian perfection. Occupations that are not in harmony with the work of redemption ifi the strictest sense, such as t~aching secular subjects in schools, parochial work, the conducting of orphanages, and the like, were deliberately excluded by Alphonsus, and have tra-ditionally been accepted only rarely and temporarily, as need arose and higher authority commanded. The apostolate of red.emption extends to all classes of people, but preference is strictly to be given to the poor,,, to those who have been abandoned by others, and to those found far from those centers of population where the means of salvation are more readily within reach. The style of preaching set by the saint is affective, rather than argumentative; simple, rather than ornate; apostolic, rather than academic. It was his aim to set OThe True Rederoptorist. This short work, with slight alterations to .adapt it to all religious, and with preliminary chapters on detecting and preserving vocations, was also published by Alphonsus under the title Counsels Concerning a Religious Vocation. This treatise is available in English, in the volume The Great Means of Salvation and of Perfection. Broot').yn. Redemptorist Fathers, 1927. Pp. 381- 417. , The sentence which is here quoted from the Manua[e Presbyterorum C.SS.I~. does not appear in the reprint. 180 Jul~,1951 REDEMPToRIsT SPIRITUALITY up in the garden of the Church, not an exalted fountain that would impressively spray its streams on high, but a rivulet that would seep into the ground to nurture and fructify the lowly and the towering growths alike. Since He who saves is He who sanctifies, the Redeemer is the model of asceticism too. "The end of the Institute of the Most Holy Redeemer is no other than to unite priests to live together, and ear-nestly strive to imitate the virtues and example of Jesus Christ, our Redeemer, devoting themselves kpecially to the preaching of the word of God to the poor" (Text of Ruie, Introduction). The Passion is proposed as the customary subject of all evening meditations, and the central act of R~edemption is the.core of all Redemptorist devo-tion. It is likewise the pattern of their personal efforts at self-sacrifice: "the members of our Institute, after the example of the R~deemer, ought to spend their lives in thb endurance of sufferings, and should have a great hatred of a comfortable and luxurious life." (Const. 489). True it is that Alphonsus taught in his writings and inculcated in his religious various devotions in honor of Christ; he was, for example, one of the most ardent proponents of devotion to the Sacred Heart, which, in his time, was "opposed by some writers'and often avoided in practice. But crib and cross and altar are the principal themes of his devotional exhortations, the cross being central, the crib its forerunner, and the altar its keepsake. To devotion toward the Blessed Sacrament he made a tremendous ¯ contribution by his Visits to the Blessed Sacrament, originally in-tended for his own novices but in time spread throughout the world with a popularity that P~re Pourrat compares to that of the Imita-tion of Christ.7 Adoration, thanksgiving, and reparation are the sentiments he would awaken in his followers in regard to the con-tinual presence of the R~deemer among us. He could conceive of no devotion to the Redeemer that did not include devotion to Christ's Persoflal Relic of the redemption. It is true of Alphonsian asceticism, as it is true of practically every modern school, that it is not so liturgically centered as that of St. Benedict. Nevertheless, Alphonsus quite definitely recognized the primacy among devotions that belongs to the Mass. For the laity he wrote The Sacrifice of desus Christ, expounding the doctrine of sacrifice and the meaning of the prayers; for priests he published "a 7Cf. P. Pourrat, La Spiritualit~ Chr~tienne, tora~ 4. Paris, Gabalda, 1947. P. 456. 181 JOSEPH M. COLLERAN Reoiew [or Religious book on The Ceremonies of the Mass, and another, a devotional one, on Preparation and Thanksgiving. The devout and affectionate prayers he composed have as their purpose the extension throughout the. day of the spiritual benefits of the Holy Sacrifice. He also recog-nized the importance of the official prayer of the Church, requiring the Divine Office to be recited in the various communities when the 'missionaries are not engaged in apostolic works. The Mother's Place St. Alphonsus was one of the principal expositors and defenders, in the dogmatic field, of the doctrine of the universal mediation of Mary. As a corollary of this teaching that all graces come through her hands, he taught that some devotion to her is morally necessary for salvation. In asceticism, also, he proclaimed that imitation of the Divine Redeemer involves, a wholehearted and practical devotion to His Mother. In both their personal lives and in their apostolic works, be would have Redemptorists Mary-minded. Preachers are urged to make mention of the intercession of the Blessed Mother in every discourse; every series of sermons or instructions is to include at least one talk devoted to her. From the time of Alphonsus until the definition of the dogma, Redemptorists were required to take an oath that they would defend and teach the truth of the Immaculate Conception; and under this title Mary is the principal patron of the congregation. The saint insists emphatically that Mary is the keeper of vocations; in his congregation the perseverance of every member is committed to the care of the Virgin most faithful. The Practice oF Virtues To facilitate and intensify the practice of virtues, Alphonsus pro-poses the method of concentrating explicitly on one at a time. His original rule was arranged in twelve parts, each of which set forth one virtue. Each "rule" wasit'self rather a short exposition of the relation of the virtue of the R~deemer and an application, rather ex-hortatory and devotional than diregtive and legalistic, to the life of a religious. Each rule is followed.by a "constitution" that gives more detailed and specific directions. In 1749, the Rules and Constitutions were put into a more formal a~d legal structure, but one constitution still directs the special practice of a single virtue each month. In the order of the months of the year these virtues are proposed: faith, l~ope, love of God, charity toward one another, poverty, chastity, obedience, humility, mortification, recollection, prayer, and self- 182 dul~ , 1951 REDEMPTORIST SPIRITUALITY denial with love of the Cross. These virtues, in turn, are to consti-tute the subject-matter of meditations, of particular examens, and of exhortations by superiors during the respective months. Such a division gives ease, simplicity; order, and solidity to the acquisition of virtue, and with all the members of the institute making an effort to concentrate upon one virtue at the same time, each individual is to find in the common activity a strong external support and example. Furthermore, since the different virtues are always considered as phases of the life of the Redeemer and as means of being united with Him, such repeated concentration upon each one serves to impress the mind with the richness of the Divine Model, and to strengthen the will to accept Christ's life as one's own. The Primacy/of Pra{/er The genius for simplicity and practicality that Alpbonsus .pos-sessed shines out pre-eminently in his teachings on prayer. The singular importance he attaches to prayer, he indicates succinctly in the title of one of his most famous works: The Great Means of Sal-vation and of Perfection. Well knovcn is the practical conclusion with which he cut through the learned and endless theological con-troversies on the efficacy of 'grace and predestination: "He .who prays is certainly saved. He who does not pray is certainly lost . Pray, pray, never cease to pray. For if you pray, your salvation will be secure; but if you stop praying, your damnation will be certain.''s No less does he insist that perfection depends upon prayer. He would have religious life a life of prayer, flowering into a continual "con-versation with God," where God speaks to the soul through His vis-ible creations and the impulses of His graces, and the soul responds with acts of love and gratitude. Prayer, for Alphonsus, is nothing less than the breath of super-natural life. Only by praying do we receive efficacious grace to per-form meritorious acts; only by pr~ying do we obtain the help to overcome temptations; only by praying do we acquire the light to know God's Will for us and thestrength to fulfill our vocations; only by praying do we acquire the grace of perseverance; only by praying, indeed, do we acquire the g~ft of praying sufficiently, and of being constant in making our requests. Mental prayer he considers morally necessary as a means to incite the prayer of petition, without which God does not grant the divine 8The Great Means of Salvation and of Perfection. Brooklyn, Redemptorist Fathers, 1927. Part I, ch. 1, p. 49 and Part II, ch. 4, p. 240. 183 ,JOSEPH M. COLLERAN helps, the lack of which, in turn, frustrates all attempts to observe either commandments or counsels. For mental prayer manifests one's spiritual n'eeds, the dangers to his progress, and the measures of improvement to be adopted; and all these stimulate him to prayers of petition. So far as the "meditation" itself is concerned, he reviews and recommends the usual methods that had been developed and proposed by the saints, especially by Theresa and Ignatius. His special and distinctive concern, however, is not with the method of meditation, but with the "affections, petitions, and resolutions" which are to follow upon the considerations as the thread follows the needle, for these constitute the real fabric of mental prayer. In the affections, he would have repeated acts of love, humility, gratitude, confidence, and contrition. Petition should be concerned, above all, with for-giveness of past sins, increase of love, and perseverance until death. Resolutions should be practical, specific, and usually limited to the near future. Petition is the most important of all, and this is the meaning of the saint's striking statement: "To pray is better than to meditate"--that is, petition is of much more .value thanconsidera-tion of trflth. This stress upon acts of the will-rather than on acts of the intel-lect, this priority of affections over considerations, the saint himself illustrates in all his writings and, most notably perhaps, in his familiar Visits to the Blessed Sacrament, where there is frequent and easy transition from description and exposition to fervent iorayer. This procedure facilitates progress from the more common discursive type of mental prayer to habitual recollection and the prayer of simple regard, which prepare the soul for infused contemplation. The school of perfection of~ which Alphonsus is master is thus a simple and practical trainings~ool in uniformity with the Will of (Sod, by imitation of the Redeemer on the cross and closeness to the Redeemer in the tabernacle, by0~etachment from creatures, by prayer of petition, and by tender deybtion to the Virgin Co-Redeemer. There is no favor the saint would ask for his institute but the privi-lege of continuing the effects of Calvary's Cross; for he prayed: "Per-fect Thy work, 0 Lord, and fo~ Tby glory make us all Thine own; so that all the members of this Congregation, even to the day of judgment, may continue to please Thee perfectly, and to gain for Thee a countless number of souls." 184 -Quest:ions t or Mon :hly Recoiled:ion Winfrid Herbst, S.D.S. yOU asked for it. You requested a series of questions for your monthly recollection~uestions that will elicit good resolves urging on to greater perfection in religious observance. And I am glad you realize there is no nobler ideal to strive for than perfect religious observance according to your constitutions. "Make an accounting of thy stewardship" (Luke 16:2). Do this in medita-tive self-examination. Take the following series, not exhaustive by ,any means, but sufficient for your purpose. Place yourself in the presence of Almighty God, before whom, at what hour you know not, you will appear for judgment, and in the presence of your guardian angel. Recall to mind the many graces and benefits bestowed upon you, an unworthy sinner, from the first mo-ment of your existence, and also during the past month. Then humbly consider the following points. 1. What is my service of God like? Do I render tribut~e of Mass and my Office devoutly, in a holy manner, in God:s presence, and without haste? Do I act on the principle that thoughtless haste kills all real devotion? 2. Do I do what is to be done before, at the beginning of, and after my daily meditation? 3. Am I able to look death in the eye without fear? How ashamed would I be to meet Jesus my Judge,now? What am I doing to make myself less ashamed, by living in continual recollec-tion and fraternal charity? 4. Do I try to increase in. personal[ love for Jesus by thinking often of His love for me? Can I, too, exclaim: ".In whatsoever, place Thou shalt be, my Lord and King, either in death or. in life, there ~ill Thy servant be"? (2 Kings 15:21.) o. 5. Whose room is the better, Jesus's (Bethlehem's cave) or mine? What can I do to make mine 19.ok more like His in poverty? 6. Do I recall that Jesus's hidden life says to me, "Family (com-munity) life means charity"? 'Am I trying hard to make others and myself happy in community life by adhering zealously to my prac-tice of increasing acts of charity and considerateness? 185 x,VINFRID HERBST 7. Am I giving to God what He so insistently asks of me: uni-versal, beautiful, fraternal charity and gentle helpfulness, especially in community life? Am I giving it all geneiously, despite the fact that. it is hard? 8. And am I giving Him this other thing for which He asks with similar insistence and which is equally hard: numerous ejacu-lations every day combined with the greatest possible recollection? 9. Have I the habitual disposition rather to suffer anything than commit a deliberate venial sin? Do I occasionally aspire to the third degree of humility, desiring to do and actually doing some hard things just because I want to be more like Jesus and out of love for Him, forgetting the reward? 10. Do I look upon all the rules, even the smallest, as the express will of God in my regard and observe them accordingly, realizing that I can save souls in this manner without even leaving the cloister walls? 11. Do I, for love of Jesus crucified, practice little acts of morti-fication daily, in folding the hands, in kneeling, and in a score of other simple ways? Do I restrain myself at table when I would eat too eagerly? 12. Do I recall that the body of Jesus was placed into a tomb "wherein no man had yet been laid," and do I place His living body into a heart that is new every morning in its purity and fervor, into a heart that is prepared for Him? 13. Do I strive to maintain within myself that spirit of joy and holy gladness without which there can be no real progress in the spiritual life? Do I show it exteriorly, as I ought to? 14. Do I value my vocation as my pearl of great price? 15. Do I try to love God because He is the Supreme Good, of whom the goodness of all creatures is but a faint reflection? It seems to me that it is because of such striving after perfection there are so many beautiful souls in this world. These souls make one resolve not to be outdone in goodness even while they almost fill one with despair of keeping pace with them. PLEASE NOTE CAREFULLY The subscription price of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is now: $3.00 per year for Domestic and Canadian subscriptions; $3.35 per year for all foreign subscrip-tions. For further details please see inside back cover. 186 I:lections and Appointments Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. ELECTIONS a.nd appointments to office are not a daily occur- .fence in the religious life but they are of supreme and lasting importance. The observations that follow concern congrega-tions of Sisters and Brothers. The law of the Code of Canon Law and the practice of the Holy See in approving constitutions are almost the same for Brothers as for Sisters., These observations are not a complete canonical commentary but are limited to the more impor- ¯ .rant and, perhaps, more human elements of elections and appoint-ments. It is evident that each institute must follow it~ own consti-tutions, but some of the suggestions given below can be pondered by all congregations. They may not be contained in the constitutions, but they ycill not be contrary to the constitutions. I. The Elective Sgstern Religious chapters in virtue of canon 507, § 1 are obliged to observe the canonical norms for elections prescribed in canons 160- 182. The Code does not determine what religious in an institute are to be the members of a general or provincial chapter, and here we encounter the first difficulty in elections. Several diocesan congrega-tions of Sisters and a few pontifical institutes that retain the govern-mental structure of an independent monastery' of nuns have what is commonly called the direct vote. In other words every Sister of perpetual vows is a member of the elective chapters. The difticulty arises in this matter when the diocesan congregation wishes'to be-come pontifical or when the pontifical institute described above de-cides finally to conform its constitutions, to its actual life by a general revision. The direct vote must be g.iven.up. The Holy See demands the system of delegates for botl4?'the general and the provincial chapters. First of all, this difficulty is q.r should be practical for several congregations in the United States. The new quinquennial report for diocesan congregations is pellucid on the point that it is the will of the Holy See that very many of the diocesan congregations in the United States should become pontifical. The pontifical congregations alluded to above should institute a general revision of their constitu-tions. It does not seem reasonable to maintain that constitutions 187 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious devised for the relatively small community of one house of enclosed nuns are suitable for a congregation of several hundred Sisters, scat-tered in various houses and cities, and laboring in the active life. A protest against giving up the direct vote is really futile and unreasonable. If the Holy See has now for more than half a century constantly demanded the system of delegates, what is the utility of wishing to retain the direct vote? The Holy See corrects the pro-posed constitutions and will insert the system of delegates if it is riot in the constitutions. Is it likely that a protes} against such a pro-longed and.constant practice of the Holy See is reasonable? The Holy See, in 1901, published a plan of constitutions, called the Norrnae, on which the constitutions of lay congregations that wished to be approved by the Holy See had to be based. These Normae are still in effect in so far as they have not been modified by the Code of Canon Law or the later practice of the Holy See. The Norrnae demanded the system of delegates and prescribed that the general chapter was to be composed, of the general officials, of all the superiors of houses of at least twelve religious and one delegate elec.ted by each of these houses, and finally of one superior and one non-superior delegate elected by smaller houses, which were to be united into elective groups of at least twelve religious. The constitutions could also make former superiors general members of the chapter. If the institute was divided into provinces, the provincials and two elected delegates from each province supplanted the superiors and delegates from the houses. The provincial chapter was to be composed of the provincial officials and the superiors and delegates from the houses as described above for the general chapter. Further-more, we have published corrections of constitutions which show that the Holy See was demanding the system of delegates at least as far back as 1887.1 Diocesan congregations also .should have the system of delegates. It is an admitted principle that diocesan constitutions should con-form to those of pontifical congregations except in matters that are proper to the latter institutes. The system of delegates is in no sense proper to pontifical congregations. The mind of the Holy See on this point is sufficiently indicated by the plan of constitutions pub-lished in 1940 by the Sacred Congregation of the Propagation of 1Analecta'Ecclesiastica IV (1896), 158, n. 12; VI (1898), 57, n. 1; Battandier, Guide Canonique, 4th edit., 1908, n. 300; Bastien, Directoire Canonique, 1st edit., 1904, n. 431. 188 Jut~, 1951 ELECTIONS AND APPOINTMENTS the Faith for diocesan missionary congregations. This plan pre-scribes the system of deleggtes. Reason itself manifests the necessity of the system of delegates. Some of the institutes that have the direct vote can have a chapter of four hundred religious and even more. This is obviously an inefficient number. The vote for the superior general can go to four ballots. Imagine the labor, difficulty, and weariness merely of counting six-teen hundred votes! Each vote must then be opened, examined, and recorded. Then follow six other elections, each capable of going to three ballots. How can a chapter of affairs be efficiently and expedi-tiously conducted when the assembly numbers several hundred? A pontifical congregation of twelve hundred religious divided into four provinces will have a general chapter, exclusive of former superiors general, of nineteen members. As opposed to this practice of the Holy See, a congregation of three hundred religious with the direct vote will have an elective chapter of approximately two hundred 'religious. The opposition of the direct vote to the practice of the Holy See, to reason, and efficiency is so evident that further argumen-tation would only torture the obvious. The principle of the system of delegates is not proportioiaal representation. A province of a thousand will have the same number of delegates as a province of four hundred. Proportional representa-tion is not necessary, since the purpose of a chapter is the good of the congregation as a whole. The capitulars should divest themselves of the narrowness of merely local interests, prejudices, and ambitions and consider only the interests of the entire congregation or prov-ince. It is of no import that the United States, or the East, or the West should get its turn at the office of superior general. Not only the one important principle but the one principle of the election is that the congregation should get the best possible superior general. A greater appreciation of and fidelity.".to this principle would not only effect better elections but would also' assure a more peaceful sequel to some elections. : The system of delegates brings to a chapter a sufficient and effi-cient number of capitulars, who are from all parts of the congrega- ¯ tion and can thus give the information necessary for a knowledge of the congregation as a whole. However, no elective system is an ade-quate substitute for the study, prayer, and purity of intention re-quired for a proper vote. Capitulars can rush into this most impor-tant matter unprepared, grasp at the first prominent name or most 189 " JOSEPH F, GALLEN Review for Religious striking personality, and give a vote that may be firm but not thoughtful. They should previously have studied all religious known to them who are possibly qualified for the consult one another on those qualified, but they are forbidden to electioneer. Prayer is never useless, but in preparation for an election it is especially necessary. Vital prayer brings a peaceful sleep to pre-judice and passion, and t~hese are the natural enemies of a proper election. The illumination and strength of prayer are required to vote for the one God wants rather than the one I like, to vote 'according to the will of God rather than according to the choice of any group. Prayer will bring purity of intention by which the vote will be given to the one most competent and will exclude self-interest, sectionalism, and nationalism. II. Elect Only When Necessary 1. General Officials. The designation of superiors and officials is a matter of internal government and thus appertains to the institute itself. The superio~ general must be elected by the general chapter, since this chapter is the only superior higher than himself in the insti-tute. The general councillors are also elected by the general chapter. This is the reasonable method of designation rather than appoint-ment by the superior general. No superior should choose his own councillors, since ther~ is danger that he would select only those of the same mind as himself or those who would be pliable to his own will. This would be opposed to the canonical concept of canon 105, 3°, which commands a councillor to give his opinion not only respectfully but also truthfully and sincerely. The purpose of a council is to preclude a government that would otherwise be purely individual. At least occasional dissent and opposition of councillors is inherent in the obligation of superiors of seeking the advice and consent of their council. In almost all congregations of Sisters and Brothers the general. chapter also elects the secretary general and the bursar general, but the Sacred Congregation of Religious in approving constitutions also permits that these two general "officials be appointed by the superior general with consent of his council. In my judgment this is the preferable method. The secretary and bursar as such have no part in government. The secretary is merely what his name implies, a secretary and an archivist. The bursar is a treasurer and a bookkeeper. No attribute of these offices demands an election by the general chap-ter. I think we can go further and maintain the following principle 190 ELECTIONS AND APPOINTMENTS as practical: an elective chapter is a sufficiently compet.ent judge of the broad human qualities required for government but is not a good judge of specialized abilities. Chapters have elected secretaries who ~ould not type and bursars who knew nothing of keeping books. What has been said of the secretary and bursar is much more true of the director of schools, or studies, the inspector general of hospitals, and, above all, of the novice master who are elected by the general chapter in a few congregations. The procurator general in congregations of Brothers is also an official of specialized abilities. 2. Provincial Ogicials. The Code of Canon Law does not de-termine the method of designation of the provincial superior, the provincial councillors, or the provincial secretary and bursar. In theory at least the constitutions may determine whether the designa-tion of these officials is to be by appointment of the superior general with the con~sent of his council or by election in a provincial chapter. However, many things that are left undetermined in the Code are determined by the practice of the Sacred Congregation of Religious in approving constitutions, although that is not completely, true in the present instance. Nevertheless, it is most worthy of note that the Normae described above mention only the appointment of provincial officials by the superior general. It is also significant that the two outstanding authors on the practice of the Sacred Cdngregation for the constitutions of lay congregations, Bastien2 and Battandier,"~ do not even mention the designation of provincial officials by election. Looking through thirty sets of constitutions of pontifical congrega-tions of Sisters and Brothers, I find that twenty-six appoint and only four elect the provincial officials in a provincial chapter. It thus ¯ appears more than evident that appointment is by far the preponder-ating method of designation in the practice of the Holy See. Reason itself commends the method of appointment. If the term of office of the provincial is three years, a provincial chapter is neces-sary every three years. Experience seems to prove that the election year is also a distracted year. This argument is not so fdrc~ful when the term of the elected provincial isosix years, as is sometimes pre-scribed in constitutions. The usual norm also is that the superi6r general or his delegate presides at a provincial chapter in which pro-vincial officials are elected. The territorial extent of congregation~ divided into provinces is usually very extensive. If the superior gen- 9Directoire Canonique, nn. 239, 3; 381; 387-389. 8Guide Canonique, n. 505. 191 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious eral believes that he should personally preside at these chapters, he is faced with a burden of travel that can interfere with the duties of general government. It is to be remembered that he is already obliged to make a canonical visitation of his entire institute at least once during his term of office. It is also the ordinary norm of constitu-tions that the superior general with the consent of his council must confirm the election of the provincial officials. These cannot validt~t enter on their offices before they are confirmed. For example, if a religious who is elected provincial superior places any act as provin-cial before being confirmed, that act is null and void (canon 176, § 3). Furthermore, the superior general should, at least outside of an urgent case, assemble his council to secure their vote (canon 105, 2°). The members of a council, at least ordinarily, are to give their opinion in an assembly of the council and not by individual and separate replies to the superior. It is certainly somewhat contradic-tory, as also inconvenient and difficult, that the superior general should ordinarily preside over a provincial chapter and yet ordinarily be present with his council to confirm the election. 3. Is a prooincial chapter necessar~l? A provincial chapter always elects the delegates to the general chapter. It is almost universally true that these delegates are two in number. In some institutes the provincial chapter also decides on the, proposals that are to be sub-mitted to the chapter of affairs in the general chapter, and in a few congregations the provincial chapter may make financial and dis-ciplinary enactments for the province, which, however, are not effective until they are confirmed by the general council. A provincial chapter brings together superiors and delegates from the entire prov-ince. It thus entails the suspension of other works by the members for the duration of the chapter and also the expenditure of a sufficient amount of money for travel. The latter consideration is of no small moment in congregations of ~is~ers and Brothers. It is a safe pre-sumption that such institutes are so poor that economy becomes a basic principle of conduct. It must be admitted that in the practice of the Holy See the pro-vincial chapter is almost the universal means of electing the delegates to the general chapter. However, th~ Holy See has also approved the following method. Those of active voice assemble in each house under the presidency of their local superior. Each vocal writes on the one ballot the names of the two Sisters that she elects as delegates to the general chapter. The local superior encloses these in an 192 dulq, 1951 ELECTIONS AND APPOINTMENTS envelope with her own vote, seals the en,~elope in the presence of the vocals, and immediately forwards it to the provincial superior or superior general. A meeting of the provincial or general council is held after all the envelopes have been received, and at this meeting the votes are counted, examined, and recorded. The two religious with the highest number of votes are the delegates, the next two are the substitutes. It is difficult to see why this simple method is not preferable when the only business of a provincial chapter is to elect the delegates to the general chapter. The two other matters within the competence of the provincial chapter of some congregations can be taken care of in other ways. The disciplinary and financial enactments, which must be confirmed by the general council, can be procured by the exercise of the right of representation to higher superiors, especially at the time of the provincial and general visita-tion. Nothing also forbids an individual religious from suggesting to the provincial superior or either of the two delegates the matters that he believes should be proposed to; the general chapter. 4. Local o~cials. The election of local superiors, councillors, and bursars is blessedly unknown in congregations of Sisters and Brothers. A universal statement is dangerous in such a matter and does not exclude isolated exceptions. III. Reelections and Reappointments 1. Mother General. The legislation of the Code on the duration of office ot: higher superiors is found in canon 505 : "The higher supe-riors shall be temporary, unless the constitutions determine other-wise." Higher superiors in institutes of women are the mother gen-eral, mother provincial, and the superiors of independent monasteries. The Code does not abrogate a prescription of the constitutions in existence before the Codd which ordains~hat the office of the mother general is to be for life. One or two congregations of Sisters have perpetual mothers general. Outside of the preceding case the Code commands that the office of mother general be temporary, but it does not determine the duration of the temlSorary term nor does it forbid the continued and immediate reeiection o'f the same mother general. These principles of the Code a~e very severely limited both by the directives and the practice of the Sacred Congregation of Religious in approving constitutions. It is undeniable that the Sacred Congre-gation is opposed to the continued immediate reelection of the same mother general. The almost universa'l modern practice of the Holy See is to give the mother general a term of six years but to permit an 193 JOSEPH F~ GALLEN immediate reelection only for a second term. A few pontifical con-gregations prescribF a term of twelve years but do not permit imme-diate reelection. The Sacred Congregation manifested in a letter of March 9, 1920, that it is opposed to a reelection of a mother general c~ntrary to such limitations prescribed in constitutions of pontifical congregations and that it is also averse to granting a dispensation. All congregations of Brothers and diocesan congregations of Sisters whose constitutions prescribe the same term of office and contain the same limitations should follow this letter as a directive norm, since it manifests the mind of the Holy See. Some diocesan congregations assign a term of only three years to the mother general. This does not seem to be an efficient norm, at least in large congregations. It takes a mother general a year or more to acqu.ire full mastery of her extensive and detailed office. tions and the distractions of tion. A mother general who gibility. Some constitutions two six-year terms only when The three-year term also makes elec-elections too frequent in a congrega-has been out of office recovers her eli-ordain that she is again eligible after she has been out of office for six years. The matter of the reelection of the mother general has been taken care .of by the Holy See, and the mind of the Holy See at present is that the mother general should have a term of six years but she may be reelected immediately only for a second term. 2. The General Councillors. Ordinarily a congregation of Sis-ters has four general councillors. The first councillor elected is the mother assistant and vicar general. There is nothing in the Code of Canon Law concerning the duration of office or the repeated reelec-tion of the same general councillors. In the practice of the Holy See ¯ their term of office is the same as that of the mother general, but in this same practice it is almost universal that they may be reelected indefinitely. One consequence of this inde.finite elegibility is that in some in-stances and for a long period of time the mother general and the mother assistant have merely rotated in these two offices. Undoubt-edly the reason for this in many cases is that the two were the most competent religious in the congregation for these offices. It is diffi-cult to adcept this as a universal explanation of the fact. Rather fre-quently the impression can be gained that the capitulars did not carefully and thoroughly[ study the possible qualifications of other members of the congregation, and thus chose the effortless path of voting for those whose names were extrinsically prominent. To aid 194 ELECTIONS AND APPOINTMENTS such a study by the capitulars many constitutions prescribe that a list of all religious eligible as general officials is to be posted in a place accessible to the capitulars. This is done in many very large con-gregations. The two in question can be the most competent religious for the office, but we do not have to fall back on conjecture or imagina-tion to see a very talented, competent, and energetic mother general who would-not fit comfortably into the subordinate position of mother assistant. We can readily find a somewhat subdued person-ality who would be a success as mother assistant but who would not necessarily possess the vigor and firmness of will that all supe-riors general must at times exercise. A prolonged period of general government by the same two religious can also deprive a congrega-tion of the quickening influence of new ideas, a new approach, and a new enthusiasm that it may need. The difficulty in this matter could be solved by a more thoughtful, prayerful, and, perhaps, dis-interested choice by the capitulars of the religious most competent for the office. A law to preclude the rotation should be resorted to only if necessary, as can happen in a congregation in which the rota-tion has become ingrained to the detriment of the institute~ Some pontifical and diocesan congregations have enacted laws in this matter by directly forbidding that a retiring mother general be immediately elected mother assistant, and one congregation forbids even postula-tion in this case. The election of a retiring mother genera! as one of the other three general councillors can also create a problem. It is not difficult to imagine that the presence of her predecessor on the council would prevent a mother general from initiating or proposing to her council. a course of action at variance with that of her predecessor. Thus one congregation forbids a mother general to be elected general councillor before a lapse of six years. The continued immediate relection of the same four general councillors is justifiable and commendable when they are the reli-gious most highly qualified for these offices. However, the. repetition here also can be due rather to thoughtlessness than to a studied and prayerful choice. The study of tbe qualification~ for any elective office should go deeper than mere externals. General competence and not mere personality is the rational basis of selection. _An attractive personality is not always.the sign of a competent person. A careful study will also exclude a choice based on first impressions. The price 195 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Re~iew /:or Religious we pay for actions based 6n first impressions is usually delayed, but it is often exorbitant. It is a fact of experience that many people never free their judgment of the influence of externals and first im-pressions. Several congregations bare believed it necessary to place limitations on the repeated immediate reelection of the same four general councillors and thus include the mother assistant. These limitations take various forms: a)an immediate reelection for a second term only: b) reelection for a third term only after the lapse of six years out of office: c) at least at every ordinary general chap-ter two new councillors must be elected; d) a second immediate term only if they receive two-thirds of the votes, but not for a third term before the lapse of six years out of offce. These limitations are practically always applied also to the secretary and bursar general. Since these two officials as such have no part in governme~nt, it is most difficult to see any reason for limiting their tenure of office. 3. The Mother Prooincial. The law of the Code on the dura-tion of the offce of the mother provincial is the-same as that given above for the mother general. As far as is commonly known there are no perpetual provincials. The ordinary practice of the Holy See assigns a three-year term to the provincial and permits reappoint-ment or reelection for an immediate second and, in some instances, even for an immediate third term in the same province. Thus the Holy See has settled any question concerning the repeated reappoint-merit or reelection of the mother provincial. 4. The Provincial Councillors. The provincial councillors are ordinarily either two or four. The Code of Canon Law does not legislate on the term of office of the provincial councillors, and the practice of the Holy See permits their indefinite reappointment or re-election. However, we have here also the possibility of the same diffculties in the mere interchange of the offices of provincial and assistant provincial, in the presence of the former provincial on the provincial council, and in the protracted tenure of office by the same councillors. 5. Local Superiors. Canon. 505 legislates on the duration of office of minor local superiors. The adjective, "minor," is Used to distinguish local superiors from the superiors of independent monas-teries, who are higher superiors according to the Code, for example, the superior of a Visitandine monastery. The Code forbids a minor local superior to be designated for a term of more than three years. At the expiration of this time she may be designated, if the consti- 196 July, 1951 ELECTIONS AND APPOINTMENTS tutions permit, for a second, but not for an immedifite third term in the same house. In brief, the Code permits a local superior only two successive three-year terms in the same house. No furthe~ limitations are added in the general practice of the Holy.See in approving con-stinttions. If the Sister is local superior and also holds an office such as presi-dent of a college or supervisor of a hospital, she must be taken out of the post of local superior at the end of the second term. The six-year tenure can certainly create a difficulty in such a situation. The Code applies the law of canon 505 equally to active and contem-plative institutes. It is therefore reasonable to assert that the Code favors this temporary tenure primarily, if not exclusively, as regards the government of subjects in their religious life. The Code does not deny the principle that greater permanency in the direction of some. external works of religious institutes is desirable. The automatic six-year change of presidents of colleges and supervisors of hospitals can cause wonderment and lessened efficiency. It will not be easy for any institute and very difficult for a great number to find many able presidents and supervisors. The law permits only two remedies. A petition may be made to the Holy See to prolong the tenure as local superior. The difficulty of this solution is the prolongation of the six-year tenure in the government of the religious life of the com-munity, but experience seems to confirm the wisdom of the six-year tenure in this respect. The other solution is to separate the two offices and to have a superior of the community, who alone is bound by the six-year tenure, and a president or supervisor. The usual objection against this solution is that it creates a dualism of authority. The objection may really be founded on the fact that the system is some-thing new, but we cannot hold that change is of its nature evil and that the only good is the good old way. The greater extent and complexity in modern times of some external activity of an institute may demand a departure from the former method of direction. It is certainly nothing unusual in secular.life and in business for a .person to be subject to two authorities. Docility on the part of subjects and a reasonable working Out of the distinction of the two fields of authority by the superior and the president or supervisor can bring success to this system. A serious reason may exist for retaining a particular local supe-rior in office beyond the six-year tenure, for example, the completion of a buildi'ng whose erection was begun under this superior. The 197 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review/or Religious Holy See will grant the dispensation for a serious reason. It is not in accord with at least the spirit and purpose of the law to make the asking for dispensations a general practice in the congregation. The constitutions of a few congregations emphasize this doctrine by pre-scribing: "Without a real necessity the mother general shall not" ask for a dispensation from a law so salutary for the religious them-selves and for the whole congregation." The limitation of the Code affects the reappointment of a local superior only in the same house. The Code permits indefinite reap-pointment to other houses, and constitutions approved by the Holy See rarely place any limitation on such reappointment. Subjects, however, have been known to grumble at the principle: "Once a superior, always a superior." It is also true that the volume of a grumble quite frequently exceeds that of the idea producing it. Higher superiors and their councils are obliged to secrecy, but evi-dently their justification for the repeated reappointment of the same religious is the dearth of others qualified for the office. This justi-fication must frequently be admitted. However, it is not true in a11 cases of protracted reappointment. We can at times suspect that general and provincial councils have not been at all thorough or per-severing in compiling a list of those qualified for government. Reap-pointment should also not be allowed to become so constant that the reappointment of every superior is expected and its absence is con-sidered a blot on her reputation. On the other hand, religious should remove even from the field of the sub-conscious the principle that a delayed or excluded superiorship bears the same stigma as a delayed or excluded profession, that every priest must have his parish and every Sister her house, that the one source of peace of soul of mature religious life is to be or to have been a superior, and that never to have been a superior is never to have been approved. These are in-sidious thoughts. They can and, perhaps, do cause great loss of peace of soul. It is a very evident but in no way dishonorable fact that all religious are not qualified for government. Few of us are in danger of psychic disorders because we cannot teach Hebrew, but it is most doubtful that the chair of Hebrew exacts the price of pa-tience, humility, charity, self-sacrifice, misunderstanding, and com-pletely unwarranted criticism that must be paid by the one who has the first chair in chapel "and refectory. General and provincial councils should not only prayerfully and perseveringly search for those best/qualified, but in this matter we 198 ! July, 1951 ELECTIONS AND APPOINTMENTS believe it is a prudent and efficient principle that they should gen-erally incline to a new appointment rather than an immediate reap-pointment to another house of a. religious who has completed a six-year tenure as a local superior. A few congregations have legislated in their constitutions on the reappointment of local superiors to other houses. One form of such legislation is: "After bearing the burden and responsibility of supe-rior for six years, it is necessary (essential, very helpful) that the Sister enjoy for at least three (six, one) years the liberty of subjects and the merit of obedience and submission." It can be doubted that a six-year interval is either necessary or expedient. An interval of from one to three years would be sufficient. A second form of the same legislation is: "A third (and fourth) immediate term may be permitted in another house, but at the expiration of three (four) consecutive and full terms of office, a Sister cannot again be appointed local superior before the lapse of at least a.year (three years)." This law inclines against a third or fourth term, since it merely permits such a term. The limitation of this law of four terms with an interval thereafter of at least a year is a generally practical and pru-dent norm. It could well be followed by all congregations as a direc-tive norm. 6. Local Councillors. The Code of Canon Law does not legis- /ate on the tenure of office of local councillors, and the practice of the Holy See permits their indefinite reappointment. In congregations the influence of local councillors is not very great and thus a pro-tracted tenure of office by the same religious is not apt to cause any serious difficulty. However, a change could at times be helpful to give new life to the house, to avoid the monotony of the same old things in the same old way, to soften rigor, to broaden under-standing, to add stability, and even to quicken to activity a govern-ment that has confounded patience with passivity and tolerance with lack of courage. Conclusion The moral of our story has been frequently expressed above. Careful study, sincere prayer, and absolute purity of intenti6n will assure worthy elections and appointments. This extends to the in-dividual religious, who can more readily transgress these norms in the election of the delegates. The legislation that has been enacted in several congregations to secure better elections and appointments manifests that at least these congregations thought there had been 199 "ANSELM LACOMARA Reoieu~ [or Religiou~ a neglect of these norms. Law is a necessity and is born of an abuse. Law also can never be an adequate substitute for human knowledge andintegrity of will. Some things are highly capable of arousing unworthy emotions, and one of these is elections. The best advice to any elector whether of a delegate or of the superior general is first pray, then study, examine the purity of your intention before God, and then vote. Growt:h in Grace Through t:he ,l::ucharls : Anselm Lacomara, C.P. THE life of grace may be compared to a steep hill which has a great treasure await.ing the climber when he reaches the top. Like every such climb, progress in grace meets difficult portions which are apt to slow us down and give us a.little hardship before we finally continue up. At times like this we need a helping hand and an inward drive to propel us forward. In His divine foresight and infinite mercy, Christ has provided us with a help which enables us to take care of every difficulty and overcome every obstaclee. The divine help is none other than Him-self in the Holy Eucharist. He is the help and the helper. We are never alone in walking the road that leads to the heights. Christ's strength and companionship are ours whenever we need them. His company is ever at our disposal when we need a helping hand over the rough spots, ggception of the Blessed Sacrament brings divine help into our lives. Fervent reception of Holy Communion increases our spiritual vitality, for it unites us to the source of all grace. The fruits of this union with Christ are mutual charity and peace. The Holy Eucharist enables us to keep faith with Christ, and with Christ's brothers and sisters through charity. Christ's grace flows through us as the life of the vine flows through the branches out to the tiniest leaf. That it should be thus is clear from the cir- 20O GROWTH THROUGH THE EUCHARIST cumstances in which Christ instituted the Blessed Sacrament and from His prayer on the first Holy T-hursday. Revelation of Love As Christ reclined with the Apostles for His final Passover Feast, the time of prophetic fulfillment had arrived. The sacre~t Jewish ritual was about to be celebrated by its Author and Object. Jesus was at the head of the table. Nearby was John who would not for-get this holy night as long as he lived. Exactly as the Law prescribed, the Master passed the ritual cup, partook of the lamb, consumed the bitter herbs, chanted the Psalms. Suddenly an unexpected hush fell on the group. The Master paused, looked upon His own and silently took bread into His holy and venerable hands. His voice alone broke the reverent silence: "This is my body which is being given for you;',do this in remem-brance of me." In awe and profound humil!ty the rough men received their First Holy Communion. The Master then took the cup, saying: "This is the cup of the New Covenant in my Blood, which shall be shed for you." The Apostles, each with deep emo-tion, partook of Christ's Precious Blood. While He was yet in them by His sacramental presence, Christ revealed the infinite riches of love stored in His Sacred Heart. Hear His words: "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Do not let your heart be troubled or be afraid . . . I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine-dresser. Every branch in me that bears no fruit he will take away; and every branch that bears fruit he will cleanse that it may bear more fruit. Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself unless it remain on the vine, so neither can you unless you abide in me. I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in me and I in him, he bears much fruit, for without me you can do nothing. If you abide in me, 'and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wil1,'and it shall be done to you . . . As the Father has loved me, I also have loved you. Abide in my love . . . This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. These things I command you, that you may love one another." Thus did Christ reveal Himself as our friend and our food, the help and the helper in the life of grace. He has willed to remain with us all days so that we are never alone, so that we never have to 201 ANSELM LACOMARA Review for Religious face life and its burdens by ourselves. He. is with us always to bear us up and to give us strength. The Bread of Life St. Augustine, in one of his sermons on the Passion, put these words in0Christ's mouth: "I am the food of the strong. Have faith and eat me. But thou wilt not change me into thyself; it is thou who wilt be changed into me." And St. Thomas develops the same thought in his commentary on Lombard: "The matter of the Eucharist is a food; the proper effect, then, must be analogous to that of food. He who assimilates corporal food transforms it into him-self; this change repairs the losses of the organism and gives it the necessary increase. But the Eucharistic food, .instead of being trans-formed into the one who takes it, transforms him into itself. It follows that the proper effect of the Sacrament is to transform us so much into Christ that we may say, 'I live, now, not I, but Christ liveth in me.' " Christ is truly the food of the soul in the Blessed Sacrament. Holy Communion is the "Sacred Banquet in which Christ is re-ceived." The source of all life and grace comes to share that same life and grace. In His sermon promising the bread of heaven, Christ said: "I am the bread of life. He that comes to me shall not hunger. I am the living bread which came down frdm heaven . the bread which I shall give is my flesh for the life of the world . . . Unless you eat of the flesh of the son of man and drink his blood, you shall not have life in you . . . My flesh is real food, and my blood is real drink. He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood, abides in me and I in him." It is evident that Our Blessed Lord never intended that the Holy Eucharist to be a reward for goodness of life. It is a food without which we cannot live any kind of a spiritual life. Christ certainly indicated His mind on the matter when He stated with so much force: "Unless you eat of the flesh of the son of man and drink his blood you shall not have life in you." ;Faken simply as spoken, this can mean only one thing: just as physical life cannot continue with-out physical food, so also our spiritual life is unable to continue without the spiritual food of Christ's Sacred Body and Blood. Christ wants us to receive Him frequently and fervently that the life of grace within us may flourish and come to full flower. He has left Himself as the food of our souls'that we may abide in Him, and He in us, and all in the Father. Christ comes to us with His divin- 202 dul~,1951 GROWTH THROUGH THE EUCHARIST ity, His merits, and His infinite riches that He may become for the soul its light and its way, it wisdom and its truth, its justice and its strength. In short, He. who is life itself, comes to fill the soul with divine life that we may see things as He sees them and do things as He wants them done. Union with One Another in Christ The effect of sacramental union will make itself felt not only in the life of the individual religious but in the life of the whole reli-gious family. Christ said: "Love one another as I have loved you." When He gave that command, He and His own were united in a bond of love as they had never been united before. They had come together to worship the same God according to the same ritual. They had partaken of the same food, broken the same bread. Above all, they were united to Christ and to one another in Him because all had shared in Christ's Body and Blood. The supernatural vitality of the Eucharist made their souls throb (vith God's own life shared through divine grace. He in them and they in Him and all in the Father--a unity ineffable. This unity among the Apostles and the Master accomplished in the reception of Communion is a sign of the wondrous unity which exists in Christ's Mystical Body. St. Paul (I. Cot., 10:17) wrote: "XVe, being one, all partake of the same bread." Christ is still in the place of honor. The Pope and bishops are in their allotted place; priests, religious, and laity in theirs. All receive the same Lord; all are nourished by the same divine food. The life of Christ flows in a constant stream to all His members. He is still the vine, we the branches. The words of the Last Discourse still hold true: "the glory that Thou hast given Me, I have given to them that they may be one; I in them and Thou in Me; that they may be perfected in unity." ' Solidarity in Christ! This idea so permeated the early Chris-tians that their charity became their mark of identification. "Behold these Christians: how they love one another." They loved one another in Christ. They shared the same bread of life in conscious imitation of the scene which took place in the Cenacle. Their breaking of bread was a liturgical and ritualistic banquet at wlqich each received Communion. They were acutely conscious that the Master had promised peace and love to all who did in like manner. The secret of the intense love, that led them to sell what they had and give to the poor, was their mutua! love for Christ, their mutual 203 ANSELM LACOMARA life and sanctification in Him. Their reception of Communion was the strong bond which held them to one another in charity. Our first brethren knew that Communion was a vivid continuation of the Last Supper. Holy Communion is also our way of being ~nited with Christ as the Apostles and early Christians were. We partake of the same chalice, break the same bread. This cannot fail to produce the effect desired by Our Lord, our growth in grace and charity. When Jesus comes to us in Holy Communion, let us allow Him to work in us so that we may be truly one with Him. If we are one with Him, we will surely be one with our fellow religious,, for our hearts will be attuned to His words: "Love one another as I have loved you." If we are one with Him, His influence will make itself felt in our daily lives. The curt word will die in its utterance. The sharp reply will be softened on our lips. Our judgments will be kind. We will listen to and respect the opinions of others. Our outlook will be that of Christ, who "loving His own, loved them to the end." Christ wants ~to work wonders in our souls. He loves us more than words can say. His Body and Blood are given to us daily. He desires us to join Him in this Sacred Banquet that His spirit and His peace may fill our souls. If we receive Him in the same spirit of fer-vent generosity with which He comes to us, His priestly prayer, "Holy Father, keep in thy name those whom thou hast given me, that they may be one, even as we are," will have its glorious fulfill-ment in our souls. HERESY OF RACE One can scarcely mention any of the various ways in which Negroes are unjustly treated when he is confronted with the old objections: the-value-of-property-goes- . down-when-the-Negro-moves-in : the-parish-runs-down-if-Negroes-are-not-kept-out ; would-you-want-your-sister-to-marry-a-Negro? : the-black-baby-in-the-seventh-gen-eration; white-students-would-leave-the-school-if-Negroes-were-accepted; hospitals-would- go-bankrupt-if-Negro-patients-were-admitted ; white-patrons-would-boycott-the- hotels-if-Negroes-were-served; and so forth. "All these woulds and ifs," writes Sister Mary Ellen O'Hanlon, O.P., in The Heresy of Race, "and many more, so repeatedly rolled off loose tongues, are false conjectures for which no real or honeit experiences have ever given any proof/' The Heresy of Race. which deals with these old objections and other points regarding the true Christian attitude towards race relations, can be obtained from: Rosary College Book Store, Rosary College, River Forest, Illinois. Single copies, 50 cents. Reduced rates for quantity orders. 204 Ins :rucfion on Sponsa Christi [EDITORS' NOTE: We present here the Instruction of the Sacred Congregation of Religious on the practical application of the Apostolic Constitution, Sponsa Christi. This document was given at Rome under date of November 23, 1950, and pub-lished in Acta Apostolicae Seclis, under date of 3anuary 10, 1951, pp. 37-44.] I. Among the remarkable documents by which our Holy Father, Plus XII, by Divine Providence, Pope, has willed to adorn and crown the Holy Year as with so many precious jewels, assuredly not the least is the Apostolic Constitution, $loor~sa Christi, which deals with the renewal and advancement within God's Church of the holy and venerable institution of nuns. This Sacred Congregation; which as its appointed task, promptly and faithfully assists th~ Holy Father in all things pertaining to the state of perfection, has reverently and joyfully received from him the commission of putting into execu-tion this Constitution, truly remarkable from so. many points of view, and of making its application assured and ea.sy. II. To fulfill this honorable duty, the Sacred Congregation has assembled in this Intruction some practical norms for those points which offer greater difficulty. III. Now, the points in the Apostolic Constitution which offer difficulty and hence require special clarification are:. (I) those which refer to the major or minor cloister of nuns; (2) those which deal with the establishment of federations and the limitation of auton-omy; (3) finally those which have to do with obtaining and co-ordinating productive labor for the monasteries. I. MAJOR AND MINOR CLOISTER FOR NUNS IV. The Apostolic Constitution, Sponsa ~hristi (art. IV), pre-scribes a special cloister for monasteries of all nuns which differs from the episcopal cloister of congregations (c. 604), and which, according to the general ngrm of the law, is papal, as is the cloister of orders of men (c. 597, § 1). In fact, regarding a number of prescriptions dealing with both the entrance of externs into the limits of the cloister and the going out of the nuns from the same, the regu-lations are stricter than those which control the papal cloister of men. V. Hereafter there will be two types of papal cloister for nuns: the one major, which is reserved for monasteries in which solemn vows are taken and a purely contemplative life is led, even though the number of the nuns may have decreased; the other mirror, which 205 INSTRUCTION Reoieu3 for Religious as a rule, is applied to monasteries in which a life is led which is not exclusively contemi~lative, or the nuns take simple vows only. A. Major Papal Cloister VI. Major papa/ cloister is that which is described in the Code (cc. 600, 602) and accurately defined by the Sacred Congregation in its Instruction, Nuper edito, approved by the late Pop~ Pius XI on February 6, 1924. This cloister is fully confirmed in the Constitu-tion, Sponsa Christi, safeguarding the following declarations which the Constitution empowers the Sacred Congregation to make (art. IV, § 2, 1°) 'so that its observance may be prudently adapted to the needs of the times and to local circumstances. VII. Nuns bound by major papal cloister, after their profession, by reason of the profession itself and by the prescription of ecclesi-astical law, contract a grave obligation: 1° of remaining always within the precincts of the monastery which have been put within the definite limits of the cloister, so that they may not leave the cloister ~ven for a moment under any pretext or condition without a special indult of the Holy See, except in those cases only which are provided for in the canons and instructions of the Holy See, or which are envisioned in the constitutions or statutes approved by the Holy See itself. 2° of not admitting to the parts of the monastery subject to the law of cloister any. person whatsoever no matter of what class, con-dition, sex, or age, even for a moment, without a special indult of the Holy See. Certain exceptions, however, of persons and cases are expressly made in the canons and in instructions of the Holy" See, as well as in the constitutions or statutes approved by it. VIII. 1° Indults and dispensations to leave the major cloister after profession (VII, 1°) or to enter it or to admit others (VII, 2°) are reserved exclusively to the Holy See, and can be granted by it alone or in its name and by its delegation. 2° Reasons for obtaining dispensations should be proportionately grave, due consideration being given to the circumstances of cases, times, and places, keeping in mind the practice and style of the Roman Curia. IX. 1° The faculty to dispense may be given ab bomine, either for a definite period of time for all cases occurring during it, or for a certain number of cases. There is nothing; however, to hinder the granting of certain permissions habitually in particular law having 206 duly, 1951 SPONSA CHRISTI legitimate approval, for instance, in the constitutions, in the statutes of federations, and in similar documents.' 2° Whether granted ab homine or by general or particular law, indults and dispensations must determine, according to the instruc-tions of the Holy See affd the practice and style of the Roman Curia. the conditions and precautions .to which the dispensation is subject. X. The penalties against those who violate the laws of cloister remain as stated in toe Code (c. 2342, nn. 1, 3). B. Minor Papal Cloister ~ XI. Minor papal cloister: 1° retains intact the fundamental rules of the cloister of nuns, inasmuch as it differs greatly from the cloister of congregations (c. 604) as well as from that of orders of men (cc. 598-599) ; 2° must safeguard and facilitate for all the observance and care of solemn chastity; 3° it must protect and efficaciously rosier the contemplative life of the monastery; 4° The employments which the Church hag designedly entrusted to these monasteries must be so harmonized with the contemplative life within the confines of the minor papal enclosure that the latter may by all means be preserved while these works are properly and advantageously performed. 5° In monasteries which engage in approyed works, the pre-scription of canon 599, § 1 for the cloister of or'ders of men, which is likewise applied by canon 604, § 2 to the cloister of congregations, is to l~e strictly and faithfully observed, in such a way that a clear and complete separation be ever maintained between buildings or sec-tions thereof set apart for the living quarters of the nuns and for the exercises of the monastic life, and those parts made over to necessary works. XII: Minor papal cloister includes: 1° a grave prohibition against admitting into the parts of the house set aside for the community of nuni and subject to the law of cloister (c. 597) any persons whatsoever who are not members of the community, regardless of class, condition, sex, or age, according to canon 600; 2° another grave prohibition forbidding the nuns after profes-sion to leave the precincts of the monastery, in the same way as nuns subject to major cloister (n. VII-IX). XIII. 1 ° The passage of the nuns from the parts reserved to the 207 INSTRUCTION Revieu~ for Religious community to the other places within the precincts of the monast~ery destined for the works of the apostolate is allowed for this purpose alone, with the permission of the superior, and under proper safe-guards, to those who, according to the norms of the constitutions and the prescriptions of the Holy See, are destined for the exercise, of the apostolate in any way. 2° If by reason of the apostolate, dispensations from the pre-scriptions of n. XII, 2° become necessary, they may be given only to nuns and other religious who are lawfully assigned to the employ-ments, under grave obligation in conscience for superioresses, for or-dinaries, and for superiors regular, to whom the custody of the cloister is entrusted (c. 603). XIV. Admittance of externs to the parts of the monastery de-voted to employments of whatever kind is governed by these norms: 1 o Habitual admittance is allowed to, pupils, boys or girls, ot to other persons in whose favor ministries are performed, and to such women only with whom necessary contact is demanded by reason and on the occasion of such ministries. ' 2° The local ordinary should, by a general or habitual declara-tion, define as such those exceptions which must be made of necessity, for instance, those,ordinarily required by the civil law for the pur-pose of inspections, examinations, or for other reasons. 3° Other exceptions, should such at times seem truly necessary in individual cases, are reserved to the express grant of the ordinary, who is in conscience bound to impose prude.nt precautions. XV. 1° Nuns who unlawfully leave the precincts of the mon-astery fpso facto incur excommunication reserved simply to the Holy See according to canon 2342, 3°, or, by express grant reserved to the local ordinary. 2° Nuns who illicitly leave the parts of the monastery reserved to the community and go to other places within the precincts of the monastery, are to be punished by the superior or by the local ordi-nary, according to the gravity of their fault. 3° Those who illicitl.y enter the parts of the monastery reserved to the community and those who bring them in or allow them to enter, incur excommunication reserved simply to the Holy See. 4° Those who illegitimately enter the parts of the monastery not reserved to the community, as well as those who bring them in or permit fhem to enter, are to be severely punished according to the gravity of their fault by the ordinary of the place in which the mon-astery is located. 208 duly, 1951 SPONSA (~HRISTI XVI. Dispensations from minor papal cloister, except those ad-mitted by law, are, as a rule, reser~red to the Holy See. Faculties more or less broad, as circumstances seem to require, can be granted to ordinaries either ab homine or in the constitutions and statutes. II. FEDERATIONS OF MONASTERIES OF NUNS XVIL Federations of monasteries of nuns, according to the norm of the Constitution, Sponsa Christj" (art. VII, § 2, 2°), are earnestly recomrriended, both to avoid the harmful effects which both more grievously and more readily befall entirely independent monasteries, and which by union can to a great extent be avoided more effectively, as well as to foster both their spiritual and temporal interests. Although, as a rule, federations of monasteries are not imposed (art. VIII, § 2, 2°), nevertheless, the reasons which would recom-mend them in general, could, in particular cases be so strong that, everything considered, they would be deemed necessary by the Sacred Congregation. ~' : XVIII. Federations of mona~'teries are holt to be impeded by the fact that the individual monasteries which intend to form them are subject to superiors regular. Provision will have to be made for this common subjection in the Statutes of the Federati(~n. XIX. When, because of the intention of the .fou~de~ or for any other reason that may occur, there already exists some.kind of begin-ning of a union or federation of monasteries of the same order or institute, anything already done or outlined must be taken into ac-count in the development of the federation itself. XX. A federation of monasteries in no way directly affects the relation, already in existence according to the common or to the par.- ticular law, of the individual monasteries to the local ordinaries or to the superiors regular. Hence, unless an.express and lawful deroga-tion is made to this rule, the powers of ordinaries and superiors is neither increased nor diminished nor changed in any way. XXI. The statutes of a federation may grant certain rights over the federation to ordinaries and to superiors which as a rule do not beloiag to them, leaving intact generally the right over each individual monastery as such. xxII. The general and principal purposes and advantages of unions and federations are the following: 1° the legally recognized facuIty and the canonically sanctioned duty of a mutual fraternal assistance, both in the conservation, de- 209 INSTRUCTION Reoieu~ [or Religious lense, and increase of regular observance, and of domestic economy, as well as in all other th~ngs; 2° the establishment of novitiates common to all or to a group of monasteries for cases in which, either because of a lack of person-nel necessary for the directive offices, or because of other circum-stances moral, economic, local, and the like, a solid and practical spir-itual, disciplinary, technical, and cultural training cannot be given in the individual monasteries; 3° the faculty and the moral obligation, defined by certain norms and accepted by federated monasteries, of asking for and of mutually interchanging nuns who may be necessary for government and training; 4° the possibility of and freedom for a mutual temporary ex-change or ceding of subjects, and also of a permanent assignment, because of health or other moral or material need. XXIII. The characteristic notes of federations which are to be considered essential when taken together are enumerated as follows: 1 o From the source from which they spring and [rom the author-ity from which as such they d.epend and which governs them directly, federations of nuns are of pont[lical right according to the Code (c. 488, 3°). Hence not only their establishment, but also the approval of their statutes, and the enrollment of monasteries in, or their separation from, a federation, belongs to the Holy See exclusively. Provided all the rights over individual monasteries granted by the Code to ordinaries are safeguarded, federations are subject to the Holy See in all those matters in which pontifical institutes of women are directly subject to it, unless a lawful exception has been expressly provided for. The Holy See may commit certain items of its pre-rogatives, either habitually or in single instances, to its immediate assistants or delegates for federations. 2° B~t reason of territory or of extension, federations of monas-teries are to be established preferably along regional lines, for easier government, unless the small number of monasteries or other just or proportionate causes demand otherwise. 3° By reason of the moral persons which constitute them, inas-much as they are collegiate persons (c. i00, § 2), federations are composed of monasteries of the same order and of the same internal observance, though they need not necessarily depend on the same local ordinary or superior regular, nor have the same kind of vows or form of cloister. 210 dulq, 1951 SPONSA CHRISTI 4° Confederations of regional federations can be allowed if need, or great advantage, or the traditions of the order recommend them. 5° From the standpoint ~f the independence of the monasteries, the bond which holds the federated monasteries together should be such that it does not interfere with their autonomy, at least in essen-tials (c. 488, 2°, 8°). Although derogations from autonomy are not to be presumed, they can be granted with the previous consent of each monastery, provided that grave reasons seem to recommend or demand them. XXIV. All ~ederations of monasteries of nuns must have their own statutes subject to the approval of the Holy See before they can be established. The statutes must accurately determine the following: l° the aims which each federation proposes to itself; 2° the manner in which the government of the federation is to be regulated, either with regard to constitutive elements, as for ex-ample, president, visitators, council, and the like; or as to the manner of appointment to these offices; or, finally, the power of this govern-ment and the manner of conducting it; 3° the means which the federation should use that it may be able to carry out its aims pleasantly and vigorousl~; 4° the conditions and means to be used in putting into execu-tion the prescriptions regarding the mutual interchange of persons laid down in art. VII, § 3, 2° of the Constitution, Sponsa Christi: 5° the juridical standing of nuns transferred to another mon-astery, whether in the monastery from which the transfer takes place, or in that to which it is made; 6° The economic help (o be given by each monastery for the common enterprises of the entire federation; 7° The administration of the common novitiate or of other works common to the federation, if there be such. XXV. 1° In order that the Holy See may be able to exercise a direct and efficacious vigilance and authority over federations, each federation can be given a religious assistant, as need or usefulness may suggest. 2° The religious assistant will be appointed by the Sacred Con-gregation according to the statutes, after all interested parties have been heard. 3° In each case his duties will be accurately defined in the decree of appointment. The principal ones are as follows: to take care that the genuine spirit of a profoundly contemplative life as well as the 211 INSTRUCTION spirit proper to the order and institute be securely preserved and in-creased; likewise, to see that a prudent and exact government be established and preserved in 'the federation; to have regard for the solid religious training of the novices and of the religious themselves; to help the council in temporal matters of greater moment. 4° The Holy See will delegate or commit to the assistant such powers as may seem opportune in individual cases. III. MONASTIC LABOR XXVI. 1° Since, by the disposition of Divir~e Providence, the temporal necessities of life are at times so pressing that nuns seem morally compelled to seek and accept labors beyond their accustomed ones, and even perhaps to extend the time given to labor, all should as true religious submit themselves promptly and humbly to the dis-positions of Divine Providence, as the Christian faithful do in like circumstances. 2° They should do this, however, not anxiously or capriciously or arbitrarily, but prudently as far as may seem truly necessary or .suitable, seeking with simple hearts a balance between their under-standing of fidelity to the letter and to tradition, and a filial subjec-tion to the permissive and positive dispositions of Divine Providence. 3° Keeping these directives in mind, let them submit to ecclesias-tical or to religious superiors, as the case may require, whatever ar-rangements seem advisable. XXVII. Ec~iesiastical and religious superiors must: 1° by all means seek and obtain profitable labor for the nuns who need it, and, should the case require it, also employ committees of pious men or women, and, with due caution and prudence, even secular agencies established for such purposes; 2° maintain a careful supervision of the quality and orderly ar-rangement of the work, and require a just price for it; 3° to superintend diligently the coordination of the activities and the labor of individual monasteries so that they may help, sup-ply, and complement one another, and see to it that every vestige of competition is entirely avoided. PLEASE NOTE CAREFULLY The subscription price of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~s now: $3.00 per year for Domestic and Canadian subscriptions; $3.35 per year for all foreign subscrip-tions. For further details please see inside back cover. 212 uesUons and Answers In the March issue of the Review Sister Digna wrote about men÷al and other.tests for candidates aspiring to the religious life. Would you kindly 9ire "Fhe name and address of the publishers of these tests? Sister Digna prepared the detailed description of the following tests which she suggests as helps to'Ocarry out the program outlined in her article. Since we received these lists some tiptoe ago, a number of the prices may have been changed. ~; 1. American Council on Education Psychological Examination for ttigh School Students. This is a time-limit test. Time: 54 min- o" utes. Norms: Comprehensive norms for e~ich annual edition are pub-lished in series V of the American Council on Education Studies for. April of'the school year in which the test is current. Authors: Louis L. Thurstone and Thelma Gwinn,Thurstone, University of Chicago. Publishers: The American Council on Education, 744 ,IacksowPlace, Washington, D.C.; distributed by Science Research Associates, 1700 Prairie Avenue, Chicago, Illinois. Cost: $.07 per test, including test booklet and answer sheet. Additional answer sheets, $.02 each. Manual, scoring keys, and norms, $.25. ~ ,, 2. The Otis Self-Administering Tests of Mental.Abilit.~. These are time-limit tests, consisting of a Higher E~amination designed for grades 9-12 and for college students; and an Inter~edlate t~xamina-tion designed for grades 4-9. Norms: Age and grade norms fur-nished in the manual, as well as charts for .translating raw score to percentile rank, or to Binet Mental Age and I.Q. Author: A. S. Otis. Publisher: World Book Company, Yonkers-on-Hudson, New York. Cost: $1.25 per package of 25 tests, including manual, scoring key, and norms; specimen set, $0.35. Four alternate forms of each test are available. 3. Wechsler-Bellevue Intelligence Scale by David Wechsler. An individual examination including eleven tests for use at all ages from adolescence (age 10) up to 70 years. Five tests are verbal: Similari-ties, Comprehension, Information, Arithmetic, and Memory for Numbers. Five are nonverbal performance tests: Object Assembly (profile, Manikin, and Hand in Form I; face, horse, and auto in Form II), Block Design, Picture Completion, Picture Arrangement, and Digit-Symbol Substitution. An alternate test of Vocabulary is QUESTIONS AND .,~NSWERS Re~ieu~ for Religious provided. A feature of the test is that the IQ can be obtained from as few as eight tests without serious loss in reliability. Scores on each test are converted into star~dard scores. The total of these scores is converted into IQ equivalents by means of a table which takes into account the age of adults. The materials appeal to testees at all ages and levels of ability and are well-suited for classification of .both normal and abnormal individuals. Text, "The Measurement of Adult Intelligence," $2.60. Form I. Test Materials, including 25 Record Blanks, $14.00. The text contains the administrative man-ual for Form I, and must be ordered separately. Form II. Test Ma-terials, including 25 Record Blanks and the manual required for ad-ministering this form, $15.50. Manual alone, $2.00. Specify Form I or Form II. Record Blanks, sold only in packages of 25 and 100 copies. Packages of 25--$1.25 each. Personality Tests . 4. The Adjustment Int~entorg by Hugh M. Bell. A diagnostic tool to .aid the counselor and guidance worker in discovering the sources of personal and social maladjustment in students and adults. The separation of adjustment into four types (home, health, social, and emotional) aids in the location of specific adjustment'difficulties. Scoring requires about three minutes. Tentative norms are given for high school students, college students, and adults of both sexes. Adult form also has scoring fbr occupational adjustment. Untimed. Forms: Student and Adult. Specify form desired. Sold only in packages of 25, $1.85, and. packages of 100, $5.75. Manual and keys included. Specimen Set,'~cluding both forms, 35 cents. Regular IBM answer sheets--for use with regular booklet of questions. Same answer sheet used for both Student and Adult forms. Sold only in packages of 50, $1.10, and packages of 500, $7.75. Stencils for both hand~ and machine-scoring; Student form, $1.10 per set, Adult form, $1.30 per set--specify form de-sired. Nontimed. Author: H. M. Bell, Chico, California, State Col-lege. Publisher: Stanford University Press, Stanford University, California. Cost: $1.85 per 25; $1.75 per 100 machine-scorable answer sheets; specimen set, $0.15. 5. The Minnesota Multiphasic Personality InuentoW by Starke R. Hathaway and J. Charnley McKinley. A diagnostic test con-structed entirely on the basis of clinical criteria. At present the au-thors have made available nine scales: Hypochondriasis, Depression, Hysteria, Psychopathic Deviate, Masculinity and Feminity, Paranoia, 214 dul~,1951 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS " Psychasthenia, Schizophrenia, and Hypomania. Four other scores are ascertained: the Question score, the Lie score, the Validity score, and the K score (a suppressor variable refining the discrimination of five of the clinical variables)i Untimed. Individual Form Forms: Individual and Group. Spec.ify form desired. Individual Form ("The Card Set"). Box of 550 item cards with three sorting cards marked True, False, or Cannot Say. Sturdy wooden box. $12.50. Manual, containing description (including complete list of questions), the6ry, administration, and norms, with supplement ex-plaining how to use the K score. $1.00, when ordered separately. 75 ccfits each when ordered in lots of 10 or more for class use. Keys. Eleven transparent guides made of map cloth, one for each of the nine scales, one for the F or Validity score, and one for the K score. $7.50 including manual. Recording Sheet for recording the subject's sorting and the profile of his scores. One sheet needed for each case. Sold only in packages of 50. 1-9 packages--$2.50.each. ¯Group Form Group Form ("The t~ooklet Form"). The Group Form has been prepared for use witb~IBM answer sbegts, thus permitting either hand-scoring or machineT~coring. The,authors recommend that the Group Form be used only with person'S~°who are still in school or who have had recent contact with test materials in group form. For clinical cases or small groups, the Individual Form is considered de-sirable. Booklets for Grghp Form are printed on heavy stock and will stand repeated use. 1-24 booklets, 25 cent~;e0db; packages of 25, $5.50 each. Manual. This is the same as for the Individual Form but has a supplement. $1.00 when ordered separately. 75 cents each when ordered in lots of 10 or ran.re for class use. Key:;. Envelope contains manuaI, supp!ementary manual, and 16 hand-scoring stencils, $4.00. Similar envelope with machine-scoring stencils, $4.00. Specify which i~ desired. Answer Sheets. IBM answer sheets which can be either machine- or hand-scored. One copy needed for each testee. For each answer sheet ordered, one Pro-file and Case Summary form is. included. Answer sheets are sold onIy in packages of 50, $3.00 each, and packages of 5~)0,.$23.00 each. Extra Profile and :Case Summary forms, for duplicate reports, $1.60 per package of 50. 6, Minnesota Personality Scale by 3ohn G. Dadey and Walter 3. blanks, $:50 per 25;-scoring keys, $1.10 for one key, $.80 for 2 to 215 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS McNamara. ' Five aspects of personality are measured: Morale, Social Adjustment, Family Relations, Emotionality, Economic Conserva-tism. These are based on a factor analysis of several pers6nality tests. Each item is scored for only one scale and each scale is highly reliable. Norms are based on almost 2000 university students. The questions are in reusable booklets. The answers are marked on IBM answer'sheets which can be either hand- or machine-scored. Grades 11 through college. Time, no li,mit, about 45 min. Forms: Men and Women. Order booklets, answer sheets and scoring stencils separately. Specify form (Men's or Women's) and quantity of each. Booklets. Sold in packages of 25. 1-9 packages--S2.50 each. 10 or more packages--S2.25 ',each. Answer sheets. Sold only in packages of 50, $1.80 each, ~tnd packages of 500, $15.00 each. Same sheet is used for either Men or Women. Manual and hand-scoring stencils must be ordered separately, 50 cents. Specify form desired. Manual and IBM machine-scoring stencils, $1.25 a set. Specify form. desired. Specimen Set, either form, 60 cents. Specify form desired. Men's or Women's. 7. The Perso, nality Inuentor~ by Robert G. Bernreuter. Stanford University Press, Stanford, California. Designed to measure six as-pects of personality at~one administration: Neurotic Tendency, Self-sufficiency, Introversion-Extroversion, Dominance-Submission, So-ciability, Confidence. Norms for both men and women have been established for h.igh school, college, and adult ages. Untimed. Sold 'only in packages of 2.5, $1.85, and packages of 100, $5.75, with manual, norms and set of keys. Individual Report Sheets, sold only in packages of 25, 35 cents. Specimen Set, 35 cents. IBM answer sheets available. Sold only in packages of 50, $1.10 each, and packages of~500, $7.75 each. Machine-scoring keys, $2.60 per set; cannot be used for hand-scoring. 8. Stronfl Vocational Interest Blank, (for Men and Women) Author: E. K. Strong, Jr. Publisher: Stanford University Press, Stanford University, California. Cost: Tests, $2.10 per 25; .report 9 keys, $:72 each for 10 or more keys; machine-scorable answer sheets, $2.72 per 100. The Psychological Corporation, 522 Fifth .Avenue, Neb¢ York, N. Y. 9. Kuder Preference Record. Form A and Form BB. Publisher: Science Research Associates, 1700 Prairie Avenue, Chicago. Cost: Form BB-test booklets which can be used many times, $.48 each; answer pads, $.08 each; profile sheets, $.02 each. '216 RELIGIOUS LIFE AND SPIRIT. ByRev. Ignaz Waffero÷,O.M.I. T~rans-lated by Rev. A. S{mon, O.M.I. Pp. vff~ ~- 408. B.Herder Book Co., S~'. Lou~s, Mo. $6.00. Community exhortations and conferences are an important means to spiritual perfection. Just as by the will of Christ the trde Faith was to be preached and propagated mainly by the living w,ord, so also Christian perfection. Christ¯ Himself set the exa'mple¯ in the Ser-mon on the Mount; the apostles and first bishops taught the more perfect way by word of mouth; virgins, ascetics, andoreligious from ¯ the earliest days were instructed and encouraged to ever greater perfec-tion by exhortations; witness, fc~r example, the monks of the desert. Spiritual conferences soon became traditional ~ in the Church; they went down the centuries, from Cassian to Bernard, to Teresa, to Francis de Sales, to Faber, Marmion, and Leen. ¯ Today canon law prescribes them as a regular spiri'tual exercise for religious and semi-narians (cf. canons 509"and 1367), and the rules of almost all reli-gious communities make provision for them. H~nce, they are not something boring, to be minimized and neglec'ted, .but rather a spir-itual element, to be valued and put to good .use. Their purpose: to enlighten the mind b~'instruction and to sup-ply motives and warmth to the will, leading to virthous action. ' For this spiritual energizing the living word is far more effective than the printed page. Of-course, the. person giving the exhortation should posse.ss certain qualities: he must be a man of prayer, self-abnegation, virtuous life, and prudence: .he must have the requisite knowledge derived from study, prayer and experience; he must make careful preparation and adapt his .conference skillfully t.o his audi-ence~ Orat?ry and rhetoric are of sec6ndary importance; simplicity and sincerity are more efficacious for this work. The listener, too, must come to the conference prepar.ed; hi must have a good intention, a desire to profit spiritually from v~hat he hears; he must not be criti-cal, but humble and receptive, diligently making practical applica-tions, not to his neighbor, or tothe speaker, but to himself. Such in brief is the doctrine of the spiritual masters on the exhortation with which religious are so familiar. 3udged in the light of the above doctrine the present collection of conferences for religious stands up quite well, though 'it is by no 217 BOOK REVIEWS Reoiew for Religious means perfect. The author, Fathe~ Ignaz Watterot, O.M.I., was competent to give these cbnferences to nuns, having been for many years a successful superior and counsellor of religious. He knows the religious life, both theoretically and practically; he has put his mes-sage in a concrete way, well-suited to his hearers. Hence, it is not su_rprising to learn that the book has been often reprinted in the original and can be found in almost every German convent. It merits the enthusiastic reception given it by the reviewers when it first appeared. There are forty conferenc~es on forty different topics, averaging ten to twelve pages in length, each one neatly and logically divided by means of sub-headin'gs. The subject-matter covers the excellence and dignity of the religious state, the duties, difficulties, and means to perfection in the religious state, its weakness and defects, its joys and consolations. Almost every important point of the ordinary life of religious receives due consideration. However, there is a surprising and inexplicabl~ dmission, daily~Holy Mass. The conferences are doctrinal and psychological. Holy Scripture, both Old and New Thstament, is cited profusely. Canon law and selected instructions of the Holy See are utilized. The principal ascetical sources are the works of Augustine, Chrysostom, Bernard," Bonaventure, Thomas Aquinas, Teresa of Avila, Ignatius Loyola, Alphonsus Liguori, and above all thos.e of St. Francis de Sales and. St. Jeanne de Chantal. Among the more recent" writers we find Alban Stolz, Albert W.eiss, and Clara Fey, foundress of the Sisters of the Poor Child J~sus, whose cause, for canonization has been intro-duced. The author is also well acquainted, with feminine psychol-ogy, and his conferences abound with practical, even homely, ex-amples and illustrations. The chief drawbacks of this American edition are two. First, the book has not been brought up to date. It was first published some forty years ago. Pertinent official documents of the Holy