Suchergebnisse

Issue 4.4 of the Review for Religious, 1945. ; " GRACE AND ~BEAUTY~--G'. AuguStine Ellard, S.J" . 217 ENEMIES OF FAITHmF. X. McMenamy, S.J . " . 229 NEWMAN AND THE RELIGIOUS LIFE Walter J.On.g, S.J. y : . ~'230 ¯ WHY DOES FATHER ASK QUESTIONS? Gerald Kelly, S.J. Bo~JKs RECEIVED . , . .~252~ PERFECTION IS UNION WI*FH,GOD .~Aug, ustine .Klaas,. S.J. ., 253, PAMPHLET NOTICES ,:~ . .-. . OUR LADY;S PARENTS Francis L. Filas, S.J .~ . .OUR' CONTRIBUTORg / . ' ~ . ~ ~- 270 QUEST~IO,N~ AND ANSWERS~. , 35. Blessed Ashes and Things Put in Sacrar~um- " (.' 271° ~ 36. Jurisdiction o~Mother Generiil and ,Local~Superior . ~7. Bo~y of Deceased Sister in Community Chapel . 38. Permission to Close Religious House . . . . . : . 272 ~ 39.~ Rosaries of String for fi.rmed Forces Only. .° . . ,: . . .o .~273 ~40.~Vows and Status of Reliigious.with Mental Disorder .-. '2_.73) ,41. Anticipating Date of Perpetual Vows .- . : .' .-'. , 275 42. ,Su.pterior's Obligation t6 Pro¢ide Monthly Conference COMMUNICATIONS ' ' ~ " ~77 ' ~BOOK 'REVIEWS~ :7 ' ~A'Dynamic World Order; That You May Live: Too S~nall a Wo-rld: The Hope of the.Har4es~; The Nu'rse:. Handmaid of the DivineoPhysi-." _ ¢ian;.Enjoying the NeW Testament . ~: . . . ' 28.2 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, July, 1945. Vol.IV, No. "4. Publishdd-bi- 'monthly: January, March.May, July,S¢ptemb,er, ahd N0ve~ber at the College Press. 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St.'Mary's College, St., Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical appr.obation.' Entered as second clas~ matter January 15 1942'; at the Post Office, Topeka,,~Kansas, "under the act bf March 3, 1879: ' "~ Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis. S.J., G~ ~ugustine Ellard, oS.J., Gerald Keily~ S.J. Editorial Secretary;: Alfred F, Schneider, S~J.2 Copyright, 1945, by'Adam C. Ellis. .Permission is hereby granted'for quotations of, reasonable length, provided due credit be given this r~view an'd the autt~'b~. Subscription pride: 2 dollars a ~'ear. ~ ~ Pilnted in U: S. A. Before writing to'us, please consult notice on Inside fiack cover. G. Augustine Ellard, S.,J. AN EFFECT of sanctifying grace that does not seem to get as much mention and consideration as it deserves is the beauty that it possesses .and adds to the soul. And yet beauty, with truth and goodness, is the object of the principal aspirations of every spirit. Moreover, beauty is an important element,in the value of grace. A clearer .knowledge of the beauty of grace should lead to a highe~ appreciation of it and a more eager desire for it. I. One could hardly hope in the present stage of the evolution of esthetic.philosophy to propose a for.mal defini-tion of beauty that would be generally acceptable. For-tunately, it is one of those things of which nearly every-body feels that he has a fairly satisfactory empirical notion, even though he could not set it forth in words. Among the definitions of beauty current among those who have studied the matter in the light of Aristotellan br Thomistic philosophy .we find : "the spl~ndor of truth" (attributed to Plato); "the splendor of order" (St. Augustine); "the effulgence of form in material elements definiti~ly limited and proportioned, ok in different forces or actions" (S~. Thomas); "the goodness of a thing inasmuch as when known .by the mind it gives delight" (Kleiltgen, [3ung-mann); and "the perfettion of a thing that makes it pleasing to behold" (Gietmann). Some would place beauty in truth, others in the goodness of a thing, arid still others in both truth and goodness together . Even when it ¯ is embodied in material objects, the perception of it i~ essentia!ly spiritual: animals give no evidence of,having a sense of the beautiful. 217 G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD Reoietu for~ Religidus Beauty may be either physical or moral. !V~oral beauty is found only:iiri th~ character or moral activity of persons; when one's characte,.r or action,i~ such that the very sight or thought of it ~tit~S delight and admiration, then it is morally.beautiful. Many insta.n.ces of heroism are examples :of it." All 6thOr beauty is physical. This may be material o~ sigiritual. About the material 'ther~ will be rio difficulty, and about the spiritual there need be none. It is simply that beauty which belongs to spirits, as material beauty belongs to visible things. To see and appreciate it properly is poss!ble, of course, only to ~pi~its themselves; but wecan have an analogous knowledge and enjoyment of it. It is very evident that angels must perceive one another and that that perception, of itself, must bring pleasure, in fact, great ¯ pleasure, betause prest~mably the beauty of angels is pro-poi: tionate to. their general ~perfection. Therefore one (good) angel viewing another and finding him pleasant to behold would be ~xperiencing What is meant by physical ~spiritual beauty. 'The angels now in heaven possess, as a matter of fact over and above the beauty that follows their angelic nature, the supernatural beauty of grace. Being g.ood, they exhibit also, of course, moral beauty. Simi-larly, human souls or spirits now i'n heaven and adorned with grace give pleasure to all who see them, both by reason of the natural perfection .and beauty of the. human spirit and because of the love!iness of their grace. It is well to¯note that to please ordelight, the. beautiful need not actfially be seen. It is sufficient that it can be seen, or hgs" been°seen, or can be ~epresented in quasi.-vision before the mind, A young man 'enjoys his belov.ed's beaut~, even when she isabsent: A living human soul in graOe is an object of actuAland full complacence to ~whoever sees it;. therefore c~rtainly to God, most probably to one's guardian angel, and perhaps to all the blessed. In heaven its beauty 218 duly, 1945 GRACE AND BEAUTY will add to the joys of all the angels and saints. Meanwhile there can be great satisfaction in really bein~l beautiful, though that beauty be all hidden.within, and in expecting the future manifestation of it. II. Other works:of God are beautiful; therefore, grace. is beautiful. In view of the extension.of beautyih God's works and the intensity of it in His greater creatures; this argu, ment from induction or analogy, seems to be legitimate. "The firmament on high is his beauty, the beauty of heaven with its glorious shew . The glory of the stars is the beauty-of heaven; the Lord enlighteneth the world on high . Look upon the rainbow and bless him that made it: it is very beautiful in its brightness." (Ecclesiasticus 13 : 1, 10, 12.) If the Supreme Artist has produced beauty so widely, and so profusely throughout His creationm -in natural scenery, inthe forms of crytallization, in flowers, in birds, in the human form and face, and in the angelic nature--it is not likely that He l'ias d~nied a high degree of it to wha.t is in a very true sense one of the greatest of all His productio.ns, namely, sanctifying grace. III. A consideration of the nature of grace confirms the conclusion indicated by induction or analogy. Sanctifying grace is essentially a participation in the divine nature, .that is, in what is in God the fundamental principle of the activity that i~s most characteristic of Him, namely, the direct intuition of infinite truth. Now God Himself must be supremely beautiful. He is the first author of all that is beautiful in His universe, in inanimate scenery, in the stars of the heavens, in the vegetative k.ingdom,. in animals, in men and women, and in the angels. "Let them [men] observing the works of the Creator know how' much the Lord of .them is more beautiful than they: for the first author, of beauty made all tho~e things . For by the greatness of the beauty, and of the creatures, the Creator of 219 G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD Review fo~'" Religious them may be seen, so as to be known thereby." (Wisdom 13: 3, "5.) Moreoverall the beauties of human art are ultimately.His creations. As a matter of fact God is not only the origin of all beauty; He is Beauty Itself, absolute, infinite, ineffable beauty, without the slightest admixture of anything that could detract from it. That beauty must be infinite, because the~being, truth, and goodness upon which it is founded are immeasurable. Though all perfec-tions are there, they are unified in the highest degree in abso-lute simplicity, and thus they. exist in the most admirable harmony. God is Hisown uialimited light, brightness, and brilliance. Long ago St. Augustine wrote of the beauty of God: "Consider the whole universe; the,heavens, the earth, the sea, all that is in heaveh or on earth or in the sea: how beau-tiful, how marvelous, how well and wisely arranged it al! is! Do these things move.you? Of course.they move you. Why? Because they are.beautiful. What then of Him. who made them? You would be stunned, I tt'iink, if you saw the beauty of the angels. What therefore of the Creator of tt~e Angels?" ($erm. 19, n.5: ML. 38, 136.) And St. Basil the Great: "Is there anything, I ask, more wonderful than the divine beauty? . .What thought is.there more delightful and pleasant than the magnifice ,rice of God? ¯. Altogether ineffable and indescribable is the brilliance of the divine beauty. Speech cannot make it known, nor ear receive it. Even though you should, think of the splendors of the morning star, the brightness of .the moon, or the light of the sun, everything beside the glory of that beauty. is insignificant and dark, and compared with the true light .is more distant from it than the depth of a gloomy and moonless night from the clearest noonday sun." (Reg. Fus. Tract.; Inteccog. 2, n. 1; MG. 31, 910.) Comprehensively to knox~T the magnitude and fascina£ 220 tibn of Beauty Itself and the enrapturing~effect ofbeholding it is pos~ibl'e only to one of the Bli~ssed Trinity. To.have some proper conception of itand how it feels subjectivdly to. see it is: possible only to those who have experienced the beatific vision, and even they c~uld not express itin human lariguage. Surely it is most significant that, giventhe pres-ent superna~u'ral order oi~ things, nothing on earth or in heaven except the .sight of God can quite satisfy, and quiet the' aspirations of the human spirit. But the sight of infinite truth, goodhess, and beauty is sufficient to beatify even the. divine spirit. Even though the beauty of God must remain concealed from us while we are burdened with the veils of mortality, it is so great that for some contemplatives it can ¯ become a source of the most exquisite delight and ecstasy and a most potent stimulus to di~'ine love. ~, Now sanctifying grace, being a participation oi: the divine nature~ and hence of the divine beauty,' must itself be correspondingly beautiful. Or, in other terms, grace is an assimilation to the divine nature and a resemblarice to it, and must slSar'e in its beauty as a'copy partakes of the excel-lence of a masterpiece. With the sonship to God which grace confer~ it must also brihg something of the paternal lineaments and features. -_,~ St. Cyril of ~Alexandria, speaking of the effect 6f grace, wrote: ".Is it not the Spirit thi~t carves the divine image upon us and like a seal imprints upon us a beauty su.perior to any in the world?" (Dial. 7 De Trin., p. 683.) .Again: "All of us who have :believed and become c6nforrned to God have been made, through union with the Son and the Holy Spirit, paiticipants of.thee divine nature, not only in name but in very reality in as much as we have been glori-fied with a beauty that is above all creation. For Christ is fashioned in us.in a manner that is indescribable, not as one 6feature in another, but as God in created nature in.that He 221 G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD Revieu~ for Religious has transformed our created nature through the Holy Spi.rit into His likeness and raised us to a dignity surpassing that. of all creatures." (De Trin. L. 4.) "The Spirit does not, like a painter, reproduce the divine substance in us as if He were extraneous to it, nor does He in .this way bring us to the likeness of God: rather He Himself who is God and pro-ceeds from God is .invisibly impressed upon the hearts of those wh6 receive Him like a seal upon wax, through com-munion and likeness to Himself, again painting our nature with the beauty of its original model and manifesting the divine image in man." (Tfiesaur., MG. 75, 609:) St. Basil: "Man was made according to the image and likeness of God, but sin destroyed the beauty of that image ¯. Let us return to the original grace from which we were ~alienated by sin. And let us beautify ourselves in the like-ness of God." (Serroo Ascet., MG., 31, 869.) Similarly St. Ambrose: "You have been painted there-fore, O man, and painted by the Lord thy God, You have a good artist and painter; do not. spoil the good painting, resplendent, not with color, but with the truth; expressed not~ with wax, but with grace," (Hex. VI, 47.) And St. Augustine: "Human nattire, When it is justified by its Creato~r, is changed from ugliness and deformii:y into a lovely and beautiful form" (De Trin. XV, c. 8, n. 14). IV, Grace also gives one a share in the beauty of Christ. Among the three divine persons of the Blessed Trinity .bea'uty is appropriatedparticularly to the Word, as "being the flashing-forth of" the Father's "glory, and the very .expression of his being" (Hebrews 1:3)i, or, in Knox's yersion, "who is the radianc~ of his Father's splendour, and the full expression of his being~" Even the created beauty of the humanity of Christ, natural and supernatural, physical and¯ moral, material andspiritual, is very great indeed and an object of the keenest delight to all the angels 222 Jul~, 1945 GRACE ,~NI~ BEAUTY and saints who see it. The Church in her liturgy often proclaims that .beauty: "Thou art beautiful above the sons of men: grace is poured abroad in thy lips . With thy comeliness and thy beauty set out, proceed p~osperously, and reign." (Psalm 44:3-.5.) Commenting on this passage St. Augustine. wrote: ',He is beautiful as God, the Word with the Father; He is beautiful i~ the womb .of the Virgin, where He assumed human_ity and did not lose His divinity.; He is beautiful as .a new-born babe and silent Word (infar~s Verbum) . Beautiful therefore in heaven, beautiful~ on on the earth; . beautiful .in His miracle~, beautiful in the scourging; beautiful while callii~g to life,~ and beautiful in not caring about death; beautiful as He lays down His life,.and beautiful in taking it back: beautiful on t.he. cross, beautiful in the sepulcher, beautiful in heaven . Let not, the imperfections of this body turn your eyes away from the splendor of His beauty. (In Psalm. 44, 3.) Clement of Alexandria thus extolls the.attractiveness of Christ: "Our Savior surpasses all human nature. Indeed He is so beautiful that ' He ' alone deserves to be loved b31 us, if we desire true beauty; for He was the truelight." (St~r,om. L. 2, c. 5.) ' . ~ All who receive sanctifying, grace are adorned after the model of Ch~:ist: "For all Of you who were bapt.i~zed into Christ, have pu~ on Christ" (Gala.tinny3:27):1 "My children witt~ whom I am again in tra.~ai.l,~ until Christ be formed in you" (Ibid. 4: 19) : "Those Whom he hath fore-known, them he hath predestined to bear a nature in the ima~ge of his Son's, that he should be first-born among many brethren" (Romans 8:i9). The Fathers of the Church like to emphasize the 1New Testament texts quoted in this article are from the Westminster Edition. 223 G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD Retffeu~ for Religious ?esemblance even in appearance between Christ and Chris-tians., Thus St. Cyril.of Alexandria writes: "Nor should we be sons by. adopti.on and inlikeness if there were no real and true son; to His form we are fashioned; to beilike Him we are transformed with a certain art and grace" (Tbesaur. MG., 75, 526). "One is molded to become a son of God according to an excellent model . This beauty is spiritual. ~ By participation in the Holy Spirit they ar~ fashioned in Christ as it were, according to Him as a model . Christ is indeed formed in us, the Holy Spirit impres.sing upon us a certain figurel ~hrough holi-ness and jusgice." (In Isaiarn; IV, II; MG.; 70, 936.) Sim!larly St. Gregory'Nazianzene writes: "Since the day -when y'ou were changed by baptism, all your old features have disappeared, .and one.f°rm l~as been imlSressed upon you all, namely, that of Christ" (Or. 40 In Sancta Lurn., n. 27). V. According to the analysis of the beautiful made by St. Thomas., and followed by many Catholik savants, there are three chief elements that concur to make a thing ¯ beautiful;- integrity, harmony, and brightness. Evidently integrity or completeness, in all parts is neces~'.~y. A person who has lost, say, an arm or a leg would ~:i~ly be a candidate for a beauty prize, nor could a buil'd~.~bf w.,,.hich some integral part has been destroyed exemplify architec~,ural beauty. It is deaf too that .har-mony, taken.in~;. ,,a~.~bgr,~o a,_d sense so as to include symmetry, proportion,, oraer, aria in general proper agreement, is required. All the different components that enter into the constitution of a thing ~bat has beauty~for instance, a cathedral~must have appr6priate size, mutually sui~ one ~nother, be suitably arranged, and all in all so fit together into one.coherent whole as really to mak~ a unit and con-vey .a unified impressioia. Order in some sense is so essential 224 dul~t,.1945 . GRACE AND BEAUTY to beauty that disorder and ugliness are almost synony-mous. = It may be noticed in passing that the name "cos-mos" for the uni~rerse as an ordered system of ,things and th~ term "cosmetics," the art of improving ,:feminine beauty, both come from the same old Greek word for "order." ¯ There is an order that we may call static; it is illus-trated, ¯ for example, in the disposition of an artistically planned pai'b]ti.ng 0r building. Dynamic order is found wherever different movements or actions are subordinated to one purpose: for instance, in the.mecbanlsm of an auto-mobile or in the multitudinous movements of an orches-tra. Order is in a peculiar sense the offspring of intelli-gence; and wherever it is found'and in.whatever degree, it gives satisfaction to the mind that p~rceives it. Though variety is said' to please, no great degree of it is necessary if there be sufficient'richness of content,' as, for example, in the finest silks or velvets, similarly certain single colors and tones, if they be sufficiently pure,, rich, and clear, seem t9 be beautiful. '~The e~y,,e admireth at the beauty of the whiteness thereof tsnow] (Ecclesiasticus 43:20). ~. , The third elen~ent required for the beautiful °is,!bright-heSS. Perfection of being, which is otherwise ~ibl~ to delight one who simply considers it, can hardl,y rfiake much of an impression on one who does not se~ it iclearly. Relat.ively to us, therefore, at least, a ~certain clari~ty of presentation is necessary. J,udged by these three criteria., namely, integrity, har-mony, and brightness;.grace has a right to be called beau-tiful. That it possesses integrity, or in other words that it has all that pertains to its perfection, may be inferred from its spirituality, and also from the fact that it is a creation of the .Divine Artist exclusively. He could not leave one. of 'the highest and noblest of His works incomplete nor 225 G, AUGUSTINE ELLARD Review for Religious inferior in appearance. There is an admirable harmony or order about sanc-tifying grace. To begin with, it sets a person in just the right essential_supernatural' relatiori to God, and thus, :at ~least indirectly, with respect to all other persons and things. Grace is alsoa prindple of order within a man himself inasmuch as it is a source 0f supernatural moral, order and propriety, and hence of .beauty, in all his con-duct. Moreover sanctifyin~ gr.ace'possesses order within itself in the sense that it brings with itself and keeps in proportion all the infused moral virtues and the gifts of the Holy Spirit. All these taken together constitute the supernatural organism, the anatomical basis, so to speak, of the supernatural life, and this organism must have a proportion and symmetry and harmony equal to its gen-. eral excellence. Being spiritual, it must be superior to whatever is material; being of itself immortal and incor- ~uptible,,its beauty should be corr.espondingly great and lovely. Not only this, but since it is supernatural, its attractiveness should be higher 'and better than merely natural spiritual beauty. Oftentimes one of the principal sources of,the satisfaction found in the esthetic contempla-fion of works of beauty is the perception df how the artist has really reached or approached the ideal which was evidently before his mind. In grace, Which is a super-natural likeness of the divinity_---in fact the highest pos-sible likeness of it---~.the in'tended correspondence between the model or ideal and the real must be perfe.ct and com-plete since God Himself is the artist who ~produces it. That grace possesses brightness and adds. a certain light to the soul that it adorns is.abundantly evident from the fact that in all the literature on grace, whether ancient or modern,, light is one of the analogues most commonly used to explain it. Thus the Catechism of the Council of Trent 226 dul~t, 1945 GRACE AND BEAUTY says that grace is "a certain splendor and light, which blots out all.the stains of our souls and makes thos~ souls them- . selves more beautiful and splendid'.' (Or: Balatisrn, 50). Grace, therefore, has its own spir.itual and supernatural ¯ integrity, harm.ony, and brightness, and as such is beautiful or fair to behold. ¯ VI. Beauty as ~an effect of grace was a favorite theme with St. ¯Bonaventure. He liked to conceive grace as making one a sort of spouse of God. Hence it was natural for St, Bonaventure to emphasize the adornment that grace confers and that high and special kind of beauty' which becomes a spouse of God. It makes one so attrac-tive and lovely in the sight of God that one become.s a fit object of divine complacence. "The .king shall greatly desire thy beauty: for he is the Lord thy God, and him they shall adore" (Psalm 44:12). "How beautiful art thou, and how comely, my dearest, in delights" (Canticle of Canticles 7: 6). VII. Among the lekser eventual effects of grace will be the resurrection and the beauty of the glorified body. "Then 'shall the just.shine forth a.s the sun' in the king-dom of their Father" (Matthew 13:43). "The Lord 3esus 'Christ. will tr~lnsform the body of our lowliness, that it may be one with the body of his glory, by the force of that power whereby he is able tb subject all things to himself" (Philippians 3:21). The physical beauty of the glorified body will be yer~ great indeed, even in the case of those in whom it will be least, for instance, in the bodies of b~ptized infants who entered paradise with the lowest measure of grace, or in those sinners or converts who barely squeezed in fit the last moment. "There are heavenly bodies and earthly bodies; but the glory of the heavenly is different from that of the earthly'" (I Corinthians 15:40). Oftentimes, 227 G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD 'R~vieu~ [or Religious if not too often, mortal human beauty is enough to enchant and transport men.It is the product of a merely natural process or of the cosmetician's art. Immortal human beauty Will be the creation of the Infinite Artist Himself and such' as befits the final and crowning state of His uni~rerse. The human beauty that we see here is o. nly.too evanescent; celeso tial~ human beauty will be eternal,, forever adding to the delight of all who behold it. Human beauty in this life is granted indiscriminately to the good, bad, and.indifferent. with the advantage rather in favor of the indifferent or bad. -at least because they are more gi.ven to cultivating it. Glorio fled b~au~y is~ reserved for God's. own elect and favorites. Beaut.y here .issuch as becomes this vale of tears; beauty there must be great enough to harmonize with the mag-nificence of the ~elestial mansions and theexcellence of the" persons who form the celestial society. The least beautiful glorified body should be at the minimum, it would seem, incomparably more.lovely than the. most beautiful body not yet glorified. .'What then of the most beautiful men and women in heaven? The personal physical beauty, not only the spiritual, but particularly now that of the glorified bodies of the ~lect, will, like the beatific vision itself, be proportion~ate to~ ~the. amount of grace with which they entered heaven. "There is the ~!ory o~ the sun, and the glory of the moon, and the'glory of the star~; for star differeth from star in glo,ry. And so it is with the resurrection of the dead."" (I Corinthians. 15: 41, 42.) "In the final state such will be the subjection'of t.hebody to the soul that even the quality of the body will. follow the excelience of the mind: whence according to the different degrees of merit, one soul will be more Worthy than another and one body more glorious, than another" (St. Thomas, In II Dist. 21, q. 2, a. 1). VIII. The practical conclusion from all these consid-. 228 GRACE AND BE/~UTY erations is that one who desires to possess the optimum quality and the maximum quantity of beauty, natural and supernatural, physical and moral, spiritual, and b6dily, who wishes to let the greatest number of the best persons enjoy.it, and who would retain all that beauty for the !onges.t time, should devote oneself to accumulating the highest possible measure ofsanctifying grace. Moreover, the more grace one has, the keener will be one's Vision and fruition of the infinite beaugy of God Himself and of all the finite beauty, whether in persons or things, in heaven and throughout the whole universe, and that eternally. ENEMIES OF FAITH The enemies of faith are tw, o and .they are closely related to each othe, r, sin and worldliness, All sin but especially habits of sin obscure spiritual v~sion: make it hard for the mind to see God's full truth. Sin is a thing of darkness, and it loves the darkness to hide its sham~. Worldliness, however, is perhaps the greater enemy of a living faith because more common, more plausible, more insidious seeing that its manifestations are not'always obviously sinful. Worldliness is!a cast of mind and a habit of will that ignore divine adoption: the blight of a naturalism that vitiates one's appraisals, one's likes and dislikes, all of one's habits of life as though one.~were not a son of God. Gradu-ally but surely does it extinguiih the ligl-it bf th~ new knowledge to end in darkness and sin "and disrelish for prayer and the beautiful realities of God.--F. X. MCMENAMY, S.J., in Alter Christus. 229 ' Walter J. Ong, S.J.- MANY religious, sensing beneath the writings of John Henry,Cardinal Newman a character sympathetic to their way of 1if,e, must have asked thdmselves: Why did Newman not become a religious? In this centenary year of his conversion, many will recall that for some time after Newman was received into the Church'on October 9, 1845~ heithought seriously about the religious life as a vocation for himself and for others of the group of Anglicans who came into the Church with him. ~ In a .sense, he finally' decided both for and against the religious state. A year and ~ half after his conversion, he chos,e, in the life devised by St, Philip Neri for his Ora-torians, a place for himself half-way between that of the religious and~that of the diocesan priest. For members of an Oratory of St. Philip Neri are priests, and assisting lay brothers, who live under obedience in a ~ommunity. Never-theless, they are not religious, for they live thus without public vows. The Oratorian community, compared to a religious community,.ii thus very !oosely knit. Each mem-ber in great part provides for his own material needs out of his own resources, and each is free to leave should he wish to do so. Why. did. Newman settle upon this kind of life? Appeal of Religious Life? Was it because the religious life did not at all. appeal ,to him? Some might suspect this. Indeed, owith all the "230 NEWMAN AND THE RELIGIOUS LIFE writing there is about Newman', it would not .be surprising if ~omeone who likes to spade around in the subconscious has turned up a theory that Newman did not become a religious because the re.ligious life demanded too much self-abnegation. Perhaps someone has. Int~res.ting and even amusing texts could be quoted to support the theory. Let us quote a few. Reactions to Religious Observance? In 1846, the year after their conversion, and before their ordination to the priesthood, .Newman and his fellow-convert Ambrose St. John were to go to Rome, where they hoped to mature some definite plans for their future activity in the Church. At Rome they.would s.tay at the Co.llegio di Propaganda, a seminary conducted by theRoman Con-gregation of the Propagation of-the Faith. In this.semi-nary,, or. college, studies were made by many of tbose destined for the priesthood in missionary countries, among which countries England, like America, was classed ~at the time. From a former stud_ent. 'at the Collegio, a Dr. Ferguson, Newman had wormed out an advance description of the life there.'His letter to St. John reporting wh~t Dr. Ferguson b, ad to say s.bows interesting reactions to matters touching the religious life: Every quarter of an hour has its work and is measured-out by rule. It i~ a Jesuit retreat continued through the year. You get .up at half past five, having slept (by compulsion) seven and a half hours, at quarter to six you run into the:passage and kneel down for the Angelus. Then you finish your dressing. At six you begin to meditate--the prefect going up' and down and seeing you are at your work. Three mihutes off the 1half hour a bell rings for the col-loquium. At the half hour (hal'f past six) mass--which every ond attends in surplice. Seven breakfast, some bread and some milk and (I think) coffee. Then follow schools--at half past e1~ven dinner and so on. A dompulsory walk for.an hour and a half in the course 231 Reoieto for Religious of the day.x Newman calls' attention to some details closely related to common life: Recreation an hour after dinner and supper--but all recreate together ~--no private confabs. In like manner no .one must enter any other .person's room. (Corollary. It is no good two'friends going to Propaganda.) . Further, your letters are all opened, and you put the letters you. write into the Rector's hand. To continue--you must not have any." pocket money . "Then there is no good," I asked, '"in taking money." "No," said Dr. F., "none at all." Next, you may not have clothes.of your own--the RectOr takes away coat, trousers, shirts, stockings, ~c. ~c. and gives you some of the Propaganda's. Although the Collegio was run to train not religious but diocesan priests, the details which Newman here singles out for comment includ~ many which remain more or less a permanent part ~)f the religious life~ From the rueful tone of Newman's letter, one might gather that such details 'are listed because they show where the shoe pinched the most unbeara,bly. Little wonder, one would say, that Newman did not' become a religious. The life plainly did not at all appeal to him.' "They give you two cassocks," he goes on, "an old one and a new one." (Newman's own italics). ' "To complete it, he [Dr. Ferguson] said that I should be kept there three years and that I shouid have to read Per- .rone." Reading Perrone seems to have been ~ associated 'iri Dr. Ferguson's mind only with.feelings of the greatest ter-. ror. Perrone, well-known Italian theologian, Was laterto be Newman's friend and champion. But now Newman passes over Perrone's name without comment, having asso- Ciated with the name nothing but the iinister overtones of xWilfrid Ward, The Life of John Henry Cardinal Netoroan (New York: Longmans, Green and Co., 1913), I, 132. All quotations from this work are with the kind permission of. the publishers. . 232 , Ju1~,1945 NEWMAN AND THE RELIGIOUS LIFE Dr. Ferguson's woeful recollections. "Meanwhile . . . we heard that at Rome . . . 'apart:. ments' have been'got ready at Propaganda for Dr. Wiseman and' me." Newman must have shuddered as he~ wrote "apartments": at least he put~ the word in quotes. "The only allowanc~ I extracted from Dr. Ferguson," be continues, "was that you might bare private papers in your writing desk . Dr. F. said one thing was provided gratis--snuff ad libitum and I should be allowed to take a snuffbox." In the event, Newman was not subjected to the rules here described for the young seminarians. According .to our projected theory, this should pro.re that he had no stomach for any life restrained by strict rule. His.sub-conscious repugnance to restraint asserted itself here, and be somehow automatically edged his way around even temporary regular observance--this enterprising theory would hold. Other evidence could be scraped up. ofit of " Newman's letters to give body to such proof. For instance, shortly after his conversion he writes of a visit just paid to the Catholic college at Oscott:. ChaHes Woodmason and I . . . arrived here on the fe.Xstival of St. Cecilia . We found the passage crowded and no servants to answer the bell, and bad to poke in as we might, leaving our 1Bggage at the entrance. I say they perhaps were" scandalized, for they have the most absurd notions about us. I think they fancy I never eat, and' I have just lost a good dinner in.consequence. After returning from Birmingham walking and hungry, I literally have had to pick up a crust from the floor left at breakfast and eat it,. from shame at asking again and again for fhings.2 Does this hankering for servants 'and victuals Show the spirit of abnegation which the re!ig~ous life demands? And, the letter gets worse instead of better: 2lbid., I, 103-104. 233 WALTER J. ONG Review for Roligious . Wall, we were ushered into the boys' dining room--the orches-tra at the end, and the table~ plentifully laden,for all hearers with cake and (pro pudor)" punch~a very sensible w.ay of hearing mu.sic. They certainly were scandalized at my d~tecting the pu.nch--for they said again and again that it was made of lemon and sugar. All i~can say is that ours.at the high table was ~emarkably stiff,.and that I was obliged to dilute it to twice or thrice i~s quantity with water. More of this kind of thing ~ould be dug from New-man's correspondence, and one could turn it all to account to explain quite ~eadily Newman's turning away from the religious state. His unconscious self had said from the first, "Don't be a religious,'.' adding with standard subconscious ¯ hypocrisy, "but talk sometimes about the religious life So you'll get the credit for being interested in it." Thus New-man's attraction, to the religious state was sham--the the-ory Would conclude. A good conclusion, if only it 'were true. Such a con-clusion, hoWever, would not be founded on fact, but rather on a wild misinterpretation of some of Newman's pleasant-ries. Indeed, the last passage just quoted hints that people bad associated with Newman, not. mere talk, but definite habits of abstemiousness quite in accord with the little sac-rifices demanded by religious life. Newman's Self-Abnegation. )ks.a matter of fact, Newman had such habit~. An appetite for quite real s~lf-abnega~ion in .imitation of Christ had worked itself out very practically in Newman's lifd even before he entered the Catholic Church. In 1842 he had retired from Oxford to the neighboring town of Littlemore, where he gathered some of his Oxford friends. Here he became a Catholic 'and here he continued to live until February,. 1846. We have an account of the place of retreat at Littlemore in a letter in the Tablet shortly after Newman's conversion written by Father Dominic, the 234 July, 1945 NEWMAN ~AND THE',RELIGIOUS LIFE Italian Passionist who received him into the Church. "Littlemore," Father Dominic explains, is a village about :two or three miles from Oxford. It presents nothing charming in its aspect or situation, but is placed in a low, flat country; it exhibits no delightful vill.as, nor agreeable Woods and meadows, but one u~nvafi~d uniform appeara.nce, rather dull than pleasant. In the midst of this village we meet with a building, which has'more the look of a barn than a dwelling:house; and in reality, I think it formerly was a barn. This unsightly.building is "divided by a number of walls, so as to forni so many little cells: and it is So low that you might almost' touch the roof with'your hand. In the interior );ou will find t.h.e most beautiful specimen of patri-archal simplicity and gospel i~overky.8 The Italian was iensitive to the vagaries of the English weather and impressed by the sombrene.ss ofEngland's dark, damp days. Failure to take measures against such conditions was to him a sign of real mortification: To pass from one cell to another, you must go through a little out-side corridor, covered iladeed with tiles, but opeln to all inclemencies of the weather. At the end of this corridor, you find a small dark room,'whi.ch has served as an oratory. The furnishings and diet impressed him most of all. In the cells nothing is to be seen but poverty and simplicity-~bare walls, floors composed' of a few rough bricks, without carpet, a straw bed, one or two chairs, and a few books, this comprises the whole furniture ! !-! The refectory and kitchen are in the same style, all very small and v.ery poor. From this description one may easily guess what sort of diet was used at table: no delicacies, no wine, no .ale.,'no liquors, but seldom meat; all breathing an .air of the strictesk poverty, such I have never witnessed in any religious house in Italy. or France, or in any other.country,where I have been. A C~ipuchin monastery would appear a great palace when compared with Little-more. It is the "best geniuses of the Ang!ican. Church" who. have retired, to this house, Father Dominic goes on, and have lived there--persons "of birth, learning, and pie~ty,. Slbid.o I, 106,107. 235 WAETER 3. ONG Review [or Religiou~ who possessed, or at least might have possessed, the richest livings and fellowships which the Church of England can bestow." And yet it had been said that their living as they had at Littlemore was due to singularity and pride! "Those who entertain such an idea," the good father continues, "might in the same way calumniate our Blessed Saviour; his Apostles, and all the followers of the Gospel." Foroit was plain to any open-eyed observer that the life at Little-more was undertaken in imitation of Christ. The. ho!y and simple Italian priest, as Newman's biographer Wilfrid Ward calls Father Dominic, gets so excited at the blindness and malice of Newman's critics that he breaks into a regular, litany of puns: "O men, O English-men," he almost chants as he concludes his letter to the Tablet, hear the voice of Littlemore. Those wails bear testimony that the Catholic is.a little more than the Protestant Church, the soul a little more than the body, eternity a little more than the present time. Understand well this little more, and I am sure you "will do a little more for your eternal salvation. This is .apparently what made Newman, who was undoubtedly embarrassed by t.he good father's letter, remark that no one at Littlemore could read the letter with a grave face. Bu~ Newman does not contest the facts which Father Dominic had set down. Newman and the English Scbne Littlemore shows in some ways a .greater attraction to a life of self-abnegation and self-surrender than perhaps most religious exhibit before their novitiate. But Little-more provides us as well with the key to Newman's final decision against the religious life. For Littlemore was the place wh~re Newman retired to learn God's will in his regard, and there, were good signs.that the will of God called him elsewhere than to a r.eligious institute. 236 dulyo 1945 NEWMAN AND THE RELIGIOUS LIFE Had he been at the time of his conversion a young man, Newman might perhaps have entered a religious institute and let his life be shaped there, just as Gerard Manley Hop-kins was to do. Hopkins, an Oxford man like Newman and destined like, Newman to become a great figure in nineteenth-century literature, was converted at the 'age of twenty-two. But Newman. (who incidentally, was to be the one to receive Hopkins into the Chu.rch in 1866) was forty-four when he became a Catholic. He bad already cut himself a niche in English life. He had been the leader of a party which had split open the intellectual .world of Oxford and with it the Anglican Church; and, although the party had finally b~een .badly routed by the liberal Anglicans at the. time it lost many of its ,leaders to Rome, Newman's place in the Oxford movement had made him a marked man in England. And here we have the basic reason why New-man did not turn to. the religious state: he felt that his value to the Church, a value already fixed by his place in Eng-land's life, could not be best exploited the~e: ~ Being Taught God's Wilt .W.riting many years later to young Edmund Froude, who had rather precipitately made up his mind to be a religious, Newman sald, "I know you are a prudent boy, and I wish you gravely and continually to pray God, that you may. be taught His Will as regards you. For we must persevere in prayer, if we would learn it.''~ Newman him-self had had to persevere in prayer-to be taught God's will in his regard and this not only with regard to entering the true Church. For a year and a half after his conversion there was an interval of prayerful searching, as both New-man and his friends, eager to find what place God ,had marked out for them, felt their way about the edifice of' the 4Gordon-Huntington Harper, Cardinal Newman and William Froude, A Correspondence (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins Press. 1933), p. 169. ¯237 ~rALTE~ ,~. ONG ReOiew [or Reti~iou, s Church,'in which they Were at the same time.very much at home and strangely unconversant with many ordinary thifigs. They were at home because they were indeed in their Father's house, about whichthey, had been reading all their ~lives in the Scriptures and in patristic writings. But, how-ever much at home they felt, the fact was, their Father's house or no, they had never been in it before. Forthis rea-son Newman and Ambrose St. John went frorfi~England to Rome in 1846 to imp.rove their knowledge of the Church from the inside. It is a little amusing to see them cautiously smelling out different theological schools at Ro~e or still indulging in themselves something of the amazement of the benevblent Protestant who has just found thht the Cath-olic clergy are not such a bad lot after all. In this vein, Newman, en route to Rome, writes delight-edly from Langres in France to his friend Frederick Bowles that the French clergy are a merry, simple, affectionate set--some of them quite touchingly, kind and warm-hearted towards me, and only one complaining, as I think he did, of English heaviness (our stomachs were in fault) . M. La~ont is Very cheerful, hnd talks Latin well, which few of "the other clergy.do. The Dean does, and is a kind warmhearted person.5 During this time when he was gaining familiarity with the Church from inside her doors, Newman was in close contact with many religious-TDorninicans, Passionists, Jesuits, Franciscans, and others. He bad a Jesuit confessor at Rome. And Newman was certainly thinking of the various religious institutes in terms Of his usefulness in Christ's cause: "'It i~ ,one especial benefit in the Catholic ~burcb," he writes from Rome to Henry Wilberforc~, that a person's usefulness does not ~lepend on the accident of its .SWard, Life,~ I, 136. 23'8 ,lulg, ~94~ NEV~MAN AND THE RELIGIOUS LIFE being found out. There are so many ready-formed modes of'us~ful-hess, great institutions, and orders with great privileges and means, of operation, that he has but to unite himself to one of them, and it is as if Pope and Cardinals took him.up personhlly.° Newman adds a remark which shows that he was ~hinking of the religious life as a sort of r~fuge from pos-sible ecclesiastical honors: Since, I am in for it, I will add," what (as ~far as Io know) I have. never told to anY0ne--thai, before now; my prayers have been so earnest that I never might" have dignity or station, that, as they have been heard as regar.ds the English Church, I think their will be heard now also. They were~ No honors threatened for m~n)~ weary years; but rather failure and misunderstanding. Special Responsibilities But from the time of his conversion Newman was con-scious tl~at he might have "special responsibilities" which .would not'leave his choice of a State of,life entirely free. He was afraid that these responsibilities might not be discov-ered for him evenin Rome. "I can't tell as yet," he informs . Wilberforce in the same letter, what they will make of me here, or whether they will find me but. It is very difficult to get into the mind of a person like me, especially considering so few speak English . . . and I can say .so little in Italian. Newman and St. John had indeed picked up Italian only in their leisurely journey down through Italy to Rome picked it up not without some disaster, as when, mehning to tell a departing Italian acquaintance in Milan that he hoped to.see him in the winter., St. John blunHered confi~ dently, onto the word inferno for inverno and succeeded only "in leaving the startled Italian with the understanding that the English visitor hoped to see him s6on in hell. Newman was delighted at this occurrence, for St. John Olbid., I, 151. " ¯ 239 WALTER J, ONG Review [or Religious was the greater enthusiast for the language. But when they got to R6me arid Newman could pick his way only rather gingeriy through an Italian ~onversation, he fel'tthat he w~s greatly handicapped in his efforts to find his prope,r place within the Church. Newman wanted information and advice. But "what can people know of me?'" he goes on to Wilberforce, . I don't expect people will know me. The consequence will be, that, instead of returnihg with any special responsibilities upon .me, any special work to do, I Should on my return slink into some re~ady-formed plan of operation, and if I did not become a fi~iar or a Jesuit, I should go on hiamdrumming in some theological seminary or the like. Thus Newman felt that, /:or him; fitting into a ready-made plan might indeed be "'slinking" dodging the "spe-cial responsibility." In accordance with this line of thought, the conviction that he should not join a religious institute finally won out, as it had threatened to do from the first. He writes to Dalgair.ns from Rome on the last day of the year 1846: I have'the greatest fear I am bamboozling nays.elf when'I talk of an order: and that, just as Anglicans talk of being Catholics butdraw back when it comes to the pgint, so I, at my time of life, shall never feel able to give up property and take to new habits.7 But the repugnance to giving up property was no greater,. certainly, for Newman than for many who have embraced the religious life, and it was not this, repugnance which decided him in the course he took. He goes on: -Not that I should not do it [enter a religious institute], had I a clear call--but it is so difficult to know what a. clear call is. I do not know ~nough of the rule of the different ~ongregations to haste any opinion yet--and again I do not think I could, religiously, do any-thing that Dr. Wiseman disapproved. 71bid., I, 170. 240 July, 1945 NEWMAN AND THE RELIGIOUS LII::E Final Reasons for the Orator~t Even with this protestation of ignorance concerning the rules of religious institutes, Newman sbts down' at this time ¯ the reasons which were ultimately to d~termine--indeed, we[e already determining--his choice. In thinking of a. .regular life, he continues, a great difficulty . . . is my own previous history: When it comes upon me how late I am trying to serve the Church,the obvious ahswer is, Even saints, such as St. Augustine, St. Ignatius, did not begin in earnest till a late age. "Yes, but I am much older than ~hey." So then I go on to think and to trust that my past life may form a sort of aphorme [base of operations] and a ground of future usefulness. Having lived so long in Oxford, my name and person are known to a very great many people I do not know--so are my books--and I may have begun a workwhich I am,now to finishl Now the ques-tion is whether as a regular I do not at once cut off all this, as becoming a sort of instrument of others, and so clean beginning life again. As a Jesuit e.g. no one ~ould know that I was speaking my own words:" or was a continuation, as it. were, of my former self. Newman goes on to.set down a notion which he,had thought worthwhile ment.ioning to Bishop Wiseman, that he and his associates should be a group or college in Eng-land dependent on Propaganda, which still administered England in place of a regular hierarchy. "This," Newman concludes, "would not be inconsistent ~ith being Ora-torians." By the beginning of the year 1847 Newman and a group of his friends had fixed on the Oratory of St. Philip as their place in the Church--the place where prayer and common sense and the wishes of their eccclesiastical supe-riors made it plain that God wanted them. In the spring of t847 Newman, St. John, W. Goodenough Penny, J. D. Dalgairns, Robert Coffin, Richard Stantc~n, and F. S. Bowles began a brief novitiate at Rome, and in January of the following year the first English Oratorian ~ommunit~r 241 WALTER J. ONG began tO assemble at Birmingham under a rule adapted slightly to the demands of life in England. Newman's Choice and Prbvidence The event proved that Newman's calculations were {ralid, that his patient and' prayerful search had effectively laid his life in the hands of Providence. For it was to the best interests of Christ's Kingdom that Newman should remain preeminently an individual in the minds of the English people. The English never succeeded in under-standing Newman the Catholic. They would never even have tried to understand Newman the religious---the mem-ber of some weird and superstitious'posse of the Pope's. But with Newman the individual they could at least try to sympathize. And that is how Newman won his countrymen in his ,.Apologia pro Vita Sua, diverting the currents of feeling which swirled confusedly about him into channels friendly to the Church. In 1845 and 1846 and 1847 Newman could not see ahead to the Apologia, in which he was to l~iy bare the history of his religious convictions and jus-ti. fy his conversion to Catholicity. But in the Provi-dence of God, which calls some to one kind of life ai~d some to another, "disposing all things sweetly," he took the step in 1847. which made the Apologia possible and turned his life from a long series of failures into.a great spiritual suc-cess. Had he become a .religious, Newman would have had the same story to tell as he tells in the Apologia. But, as he shrewdly foresaw in 1846, no one would have belie~'ed that he was speaking his own words. In the Oratory of St. Philip, only loosely tied to his associates, he remained .in the popular mind Newman, the individual Englishman. That made" possible the work which God bad for him to do. 242 Why Does Father Ask Questions? Gerald Kelly, S.J. DURING the years of his seminary training,, the young priest-to'be is thoroughly instructed in the duties of those who go to confession anal is also made acquainted with some of the principal difficulties that his future, peni-tents might experience. ' This is as it should be, The priest should be able to help and sympathize with his penitents. But that is only one side of the picture. The confessor-. penitent relationship .is "mutual; and, particularly from the point of view of the penitent, it is, perhaps the most pro-f0u. ndly intimate relationship in the world. The penitent often reveals things to the confessor that he Would not dis-close to anyone, else, even his dearest friend.It seems logical, therefore, that the penitent ought to know something of the duties and problems of the confessor. Catholics do know, in.a rather vague way, something of the confessor's duties and difficulties. They know that he ~ears their sins as the ambassador of God and that he is bound by the most rigid and sacred secrecy possible. And they can readily understand that long hours in the confes-sional must be tiresome and must create a. spei:ial :difficulty with regard to the practice of such virtues as patience and kindness. But there are many things that they do not understand" and one of these seems to be the asking of questions by the.confessor.~ If we may judge from remarks heard in conversations about confession, we may conclude that penitents fall into three rather general classes with respect to being questionbd by the confessor. Some penitents rather like it because it 243 GERALD KELLY Reoieu~ for Religiou~ makes their own task easier and makes them more satisfied that their confession was good. Others definitely resent ~luestioning; they want to say what they have to say and then be allowed to go in peace. Still others neither like nor resent the questioning, but among these many wonder why questions are asked. All these classes of penitents--and of course all who teach catechism and instruct others how~ to go to confession--would very likely profit by-a knowledge of som'e of the reasons why the priest questions °~hem; and if they ~kriew these reasons they would very likely try to improve their methods of going to confession and thus avoid the necessity of questions. As a judge in the placeof Christ, the priest gives abso-lution to a worthily-disposed sinner and refuses absolu-tion to the sinner who is not sufficiently disposed. This is the most imporl)ant office of the confessor; but it is not his only.' function. He is also a pb~tsician., with the duty of healing the wounds of sin.and prescribing remedies for the "future; he is, to some extent~ a teacher, with the duty of instructing the ignorant; and he is the spiritual ~:atber to his penitent, with the° duty of giving paternal admonitions, counsel, affd e.ncouragement. In each and' all of these capacities, the priest might tinct reasons, for questioning pe.nitents. I" cannot discuss all these reasons here; but I should like to call attention to those tbat might be most common or most important. Sut~cien't Matter? For the instruction of. seminarians and for the help. of priests, moral theologians sometimes prepare ~¢hat thev call "case books"--that is, books of practical problems that ~the priest .is likely~ to encounter in.his ministry. To make the problem concrete, it is proposed in the form "of a ficti-tious incident. The student is to,decide what he would do 244 ,lul.q, 1945 \VllY DOES FATHER ASK QUES'I~IONS? under the circumstances; then he can check his solution with the solution offered by the author of the book. I can illustrate the first reason why a priest might ask questions by two s.ample Confessions taken from one of these case books. The first confession is that of a devout woman named Eudoxia. "I never detract others, as many women do," EuSoxia tells her confessor. "I have had to listen to men blaspheme, but.I told them I disapprove of their language. And I forgot to say my morning prayers several times.". That, according to the case book, is Eudoxia's entire confession. Not. a real sin is mentioned; and there is no concluding accusation of the sins of her past life. So far as absolution is concerned, Eudoxia might just as well be a newly baptized baby. But there is this l~rofound difference between Eudoxia and the baby" the baby has not sinned, whereas Eudoxia--unless she has the special privilege given to Our Lady--most certainly has committed some small sins, at least in he.r past life. The confessor's problem is to get her to confess a sin. "Perhaps you have told some small lies, or given way to impatience, or committed some other small sins; like sins of vanity?" the confessor asks Eudoxia. Most of us, I am sure, would call this an easy, safe approach, Tl~ere is" nothing particularly opprobrious about these .sins,.and even very good people occasionally fall into them. But not Eudoxia! "Far be it from me, Father," she replies firmly, ever to commit any of those sins!" With that we can leave Eudoxia to her confessor. He may try to explain to her how all people commit some small, sins, and that in her case it is just a matter of recog-nizing the sins and perhaps of examining her conscience more carefully. He might even indicate that she could get some valuable information abmit herself from. those "other 245 GERALD KELLY women" of whom she spoke in her confession or from those men who blasphemed in her presence. But he may not and cannot give absolution until he knows, there is something to absolve. Virtues, mere imperfections, involuntary acts, and doubtful sins (for example: "I accuse myself in so far asI amguilty") arenot sufficient matter for absolution;' and if a confessionconsists entirely of such things~ the con-fessor simply has to ask questions. ¯ Anbther sample confession, taken from the same case bbok, will illustrate the problem of insufficient matter under a slightly different aspect. This time the penitent is a man, .whose Latin name is best translated by Goodfellow. "'Father," runs Goodfellow's confession, "I haven't anything to confess except that I frequently had impure thoughts, and once, when I was traveling, I missed Mass on Sunday." That is the whole of Goodfellow's confession. He seems tO be a man of few deeds and fewer words. The prin-dipal difference between his and Eud0xia's confessions is that Eudoxia deaily confessed no sins, whereas Goodfellow may be confessing real sins. Every confessor learns, after some little ~xperience, that the accusation, "I had impure thoughts," does,not necessarily mean sin. It could mean that the penitent committed a mortal sin against purity_; but it could also mean that the penit.ent was merely tempted against purity--in other words, that the thoughts were entirely involuntary and not at all culpable. And the same may be said for Goodfellow's failure to hear Mass. Devout people sometimes confess "missing Mass," even when they had. a broken leg. They. do not really mean that they sinned; they merely feel better when they tell the confessor aboutoit. Goodfellow might be one of these devout people; perhaps his journey made it impossible to .hear Mass and lie knew this .was no sin. 246 dul~,IP45 WHY DOES FATHER ASK QUESTIONS? If Goodfellow's impure thoughts were involuntary and he had a good excuse or thought he had a good excuse 'for missing Mass, his confession is the same as Eudoxia's: it Gontains no real sin. Strictly speaking, things like this should not be confessed unless one wishes to get, some advice about them; but if the peni.tent does confess them, he should indicate .that they were not sins and should ' include in his confession some other matter for absolution. Otherwise the confessor must ask questions. Mortal or Venial Sin? Even if Goodfellow's impure thoughts were really sin-ful, there would still be a further problem for the confessor. He has to judge, in so far as this is reasonably possible, whether the penitent ~ommitted a venial sin.or a mortal sin: and this judgment is particularly difficult .to make with regard to such things as internal sins. As I said before, the accusation, "I had impure thoughts," may refer merely to a. temptation, in which case it would be no sin at all. But it could also mean that the penitent was guilty of some negli-gence in getting rid of impure thoughts--and this, though it would be a venial, sin, is a far cry from full consent and deliberate mortal sin. All of us learfied (or were supposed to learn) in cate-chism class that a full-fledged mortal sin must have three. elements: serious matter, sufficient ~eflection, and full con-sent of the will. In some types of[accusations a confessor can readily presume that all these elehaents were present;but in many other~ be must ask a question or tWO to determine whether the matter was really, serious or whether there was sufficient reflection and full consent. It is often very difficult, even after questioning, to.forma judgment regarding reflec-tion and consent; and it can happen that both the penitent and the confessor will have to leave the judgment to God. 247 GERALD KELLY Review for Religious But they are not supposed to "leave it to God" without r~aking some reasonable effort to decide it for themselves. I might mention here that the judgment concerning d~gree of guilt is not nearly so important as the judgment ~oncerning sufficiency of matter. A mistake concerning sufficient matter (for example: if the confessor judged that the confession contained real sin when not even a real venial sin was included in thea c'cusa"tion) would make the abso-lution invalid, even though the penitent, being in good faith, would commit no sin. But a mistake in judging the degree of guilt (for example: by judging a sin to be mortal when it was only venial, or vice vers)~) would not affect the validity of the absolution. The Law or: Integrity Reminiscing on catechism days will also bring to our minds the la~ of Christ that all mortal sins must be con-fessed according to species and number: in other words, the ekact kind of ~in committed andthe exact number of times each sin was committed, in so far as the penitent can tell these details, must be confessed. If the priest notices that this law is not being kept, he must prudently help the penitent by questions. The man who has committed mur-der does not satisfy this obligation by merel.y saying that he violated the Fifth Commandment, because there are many ways of violating that Commandment; and if he murdered his brother he would not satisfy his obligation by saying that he had killed a man, because homicide and fratricide are different kinds of sins. Finally, if we make the wild supposition that he bad seven brothers and that he mur-dered them all, he would not fulfill the law of integral con-fession by simply saying that he had murdered his brothers, because he "is Supposed to tell how many mortal sins he committed. 248 dulg, 1945 WHY DOES FATHER ASK QUESTIONS? I realize that homicide and fratricide are not the regular subject-matter for confessions. A Commandment that would probably touch the lives of ordinary people more ¯ closely would be the Sixth. And the confession of sins against this Commandment present~ special difficulties for both penitent and confessor. Penitents find the confession of sins of impurity embarrassing, and they would naturally 'like to keep their accusation as general as possible. Further-more. they often do not know just how to express them-selves, perhaps because they feel that they do not know the proper terms to be used in the confessional. As for the con-fessor, it is easily seen how he might find the questioning of penitents concerning sins of impurity a particularly delicate matter. The best solution to' the mutual embarrassment problem is to have the penitent try to keep the law of .integrity by confessing in his own words the kind of sin he committed. The confession should be brief and to the point. The confessor can hardly fail to understafid: and thus the need of questions, at least on this score, will be avoided. Of course, there are 15enitents who prefer to be questioned in this matter because they find it too difficult to express themselves without help. These penitents should at least mention their inability to the confessor and asl( for his assistance. True Contrition? A very important--in fact, an essential--judgment to be made by the confessor concerns the penitent's disposition. Practically speaking, tbis means that before giving absolu-tion the confessor must judge that his penitent has. true contrition, at least imperfect contrition. Absolution can-not be ~'alid if the penitent has not this minimum'disposi-sition. ¯Generally speaking, of course, the presumption is that 249 GERALD KELLY Review for Religious ¯ people do not confess their,sins unless they are sorry for them. But this presump.tion admits of many exceptions, as the moral theologiai~s are careful to point out. For instance, there is thecase of the penitent w, ho has been prac-t. ically forced to confession by wife, m0ther~ br teacher. It is true that even under such circumstances a good confession can be made; but there is a very real danger that such con-fessions might be insincere and that genuine contrit.ion and desire for absolution mil~ht be lacking. Another difficulty tha't might make for defective contrition is lack of instruc-tion. Great moralists like St. Alphonsus' Liguori point out that many simple people are a~t to get the habit of going to confession without really appreciating the need of contrition; especially with reference to purpose of amend-ment. In all.cases like the above, where the confessor has a reasonable .suspicion that-contrition is lacking or defective, he must ask a question or two. And besides these general difficulties there are certain sl~ecific problems concerning which he must be especially careful. Among these specific cases a m6st important one .is that of the penitent with a habit of serious sin. . The habitual sinner is apt to have a very vague and ineffective purpose of amendment. In. a general way he wants to break his habit, but he fails to decide on any deft-nite way of doing so. Strong habits are not broken in that way. One must.try to find the reason for his habit and try to remove that reason. The habit may be the result of his own weakness; and in this case he must take some means to strengthen himself. Or the habit may be connected with an occasion of sin; and in this event some very drastic measures may" halve to be taken, with regard to the occasion. These are basic points concerning habits of sin; yet the penitent may be ignorant of them and unconscious of his need for 250 J~,ty, 1945 Wl-iy DOES FATHER ASK QUESTIONS? help. And even if he feels his need very acutely, even if h~ is dreadfully discouraged--a not uncommon effect of habits of impurity---~ he may be too timid to ask for help; hence, if the .confessor does not takethe initiative, great harm may result. Even when a habitual sinner shows good Will his pr6b-lem is apt to be a'difficult one, because.it is not always easy to determine the exact ~ause of the trouble and to prescribe an immediately effective remedy. But the difficulty is much more serious when the penitent manifests a lack of sincer-ity: for example,, if he returns to the same confessor again and again without having made any attempt to follow advice, or if he goes from one confessor to another in order to find an "easy" one or to avoid the .need of giving an account of himself. Human nature is prone, to seek the ehsy ¯ way, and the very law of the Church which allows peni-tents a choice of confessors can be abused in such a way ~s to defeat the purpose of confession. Knowing these things. the confessor cannot omit questions when he notices or has a solid reason for suspecting that his peniten( is insincere. Other Reasons :or Questions. Thus far I have given the principal reasonswhy a con-lessor might feel obliged to ask questions: namely, to determine if there is sufficient matter foi absolution; to decide the degree of sinfulness; to help the penitent to make'- a complete, confession; to test the penitent,'s disposition; and to give needed advice and encouragement. Another very important reason is his desire to correct a false con-science. .These and similar purposes all fall within the scope of his sublime office as minister of the sacrament-- as judge, physiciah, teacher, and spiritual father. And to these we might add the simpler and more natural reasons, such as the fact that he does not hear what is.said, or that 25! GERALD KELLY . he is, not 'sure h.e catches "the penitent's meaning. And finally, the confessor is not exempt~from such difficulties as distractions and sleepiness. His mind may wander, and.his head may nod! If penitents were to keep all these things i'n mind, they would not resent questions, bfit they would try to make their confessions sufficiently clear and complete to allow the confessor tom keep his questions to the mini-mum. No doubt-it is true that occasionally unnecessary and even useless questions are asked: but this is'not the rule. Questioning penitents is seldom pleasant. Books Received ¯(From A~rll ZO to ,lune 20) " " LONGMANS~ GREEN. AND CO., INC., London, New York, Toronto. Enjoying the Neu~ Testament. By Margaret T. Monro. $2.50. THE BRUCE PUBLISHING CO. Milwaukee. A Dynamic 1~7or/.d Order. By Rt. Rev. Msgr. Donald~A. Mac Lean, A. M., S.T.L., Ph.D. $2.50. Weapons for Peace. By Thomas P. Neill. $2.50. CATECHETICAL GUILD, St. Paul, Minn. That You Mug Liue. By L. F. Cervantes, S.J. $2.00. SOCIETY OF SISTERS OF THE HOLY NAMES, Marylhurst, Oregon. The Hope of the Hart, est. By a-Sister of the Holy Names. $4.00 (plus postage). FREDERICK PusTET CO., INC., New~ York. Meditations on Eternitg for t~eligious. By the Venerable Mother Julienne Morell, O.P. $2.50. B. HERDER BOOK CO., St. Louis. A Retreat for Religious. By Rev. Andrew Green, O.S.B. $2.00. Christian Denominations. By Rev. Konrad Algermissen. $7.50. MOTHERHOUSE OF IMMACULATE CONCEPTION, Cdnvent Heights, New Britain, Conn. D,n'l~) Progress in Religious Virtues. By Rev. John Pitrus, S.T.D.'$1.60. 252 Perl:ecfion Is Union wish God Augustine Klaas, S.3. WE OFTEN HEAR it said.that spiritual perfection is union with God .and that~ the moreintimate this union is, the greater our perfection. The statement is true;but is there not frequently some haziness of mind as to just what is meant by. union With God and how it per-tains to perfection? Let .us examine variouskinds of union with God and their relation to spiritual perfectionl Hgposti~tic Union with God 'The closest union of our human nature with the divine is had in Jesus_Christ by rdason, of the hypostatic union, that is, the union of the divine and human natures of Christ in the Person of the Word. One Persofi, the Son of God, having a divine nature from all eternity, took to Himself a human nature like our very own from. the flesh of Mary, and by a viriginal birth became also .the son of Mary. "The Word was made flesh, and dwelt' among us" (John 1 : 14). ~Or as. Pope Saint Leo the Great graphically expresses it: "the Wisdom of God built a house in the flesh, whkh He took from a human being, and which He animated with a -rational soul." The human nature of.Christ ever remains distinct from the divine, but the two natures, are subs[an-t~ iallg united in the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity. This is the closest possible .union of our human nature with God. Such an intimate, substantial union of the human and the divine is had in Jesus Christ alone, for revelation tells of only one hypostatic union. It were blasphemy to say that in our pursuit of perfection we could ever attain to such an 253 AUGUSTINE KLAAS for Religious immediate union with God. We cannot even understand its character fu!ly since'it is an ineffable mystery. Before it we can only bow our heads in faith, in adoration, and in grati-tude, too, because from the hypostat!c union comes not only our sublime Model of perfection, but also from it, as from a fo~antainbead, flow all our grace, justification, incorporation into the Mystical Body, spiritual perfection. and ultimately our everlasting:union with God in heaven. Union with God in Hea~)en The blessed Jn heaven are intimately united to God. This union of our human nature with ,the divine is not substantial, like the previous one, but only accidental. Called the beatific vision, it is an immediate intuitive p.er-ception of the essence of God ~esuking in 10ve, and a sati-ating joy and bliss that Will last forever. Aided .by the "light of glory; the blessed see God face to face. .'.'We see'nqw, ,through a glass in a dark manner.; but then fa~e to face" (I Corinthians 13" 12). And because of this direct vision of God the blessed love God to' their utmost and are supremely happy for all eternity~ They can neither increase nor diminish this union, since their time of probation is over. They are home at last in their Father's house. ¯ However, union with God in heaven is not had by all the blessed in the same degree, for "there are many man-sions" in our~elestial abode. What determines its degree? The degree o.f our vision of God and of our capacity for love and happiness .hereafter is indirect proportion to the sanctifying grace, merit, and spiritual perfection we have acquired in this l~fe. In other words, the degree.of our union with God in heaven is measured wholly by the degree of our union with God on earth. Union with God on Earth On earth we are united to God' by sanctffging grace. 254 dul~,1945 PERFECTION IS uNIoN WITH GOD Pope Leo XIII in his encyclical on the Holy spirit explains this union as follows: No. one can express the greatness of this work of divine grace in the souls.of men. Wherefore, both in Holy Scripture and in the Gritings. of the Fathers, men are styled regenerated, new creatures, partakers of 0the Divine Nature, children of God, godlike, and similar el~ithets. Now these great blessings are justly'considered as especially belonging to the. Holy Spiri.t . . . He not only .brings to us His Divine gifts, 15ut is the Author of them and is Himself the supreme Gift . To show tile nature and e~icacy of this gift it is.wel! to recall the explanation given by thee Doctors.of the Church of the words of Holy Scripture. Tfiey say that God is.present and exists in'all thin, gs by His. power, in so far as all things are sub'ject toHis power; by His presence, inasmuch a's al! thin~s are uncovered and open to His eyes; by His essence, inasmuch as He is present to all.as the cause of their being (St. Thomas, Summa Tbeologica I, Q. 8, Art. 3). But God is' in ma.n, not just as. in lifeles~ things, but in the.furthe.r way thaf He is also known and loved by him, since even by nature we spontane-ously love, desire and seek after the good.~ Moreover, God by'grac~ resides in the justsoul.as in a temple, in a most intimateand peculiar manner. From this proceeds that union of affection by which the soul adheres cl~sely to God, mor~ so than the friend is united t6 his most lovi.ng and beloved friend,' ~nd enjoys God in all fulness and sweetness. Now this wonderful union, which is prop~ly called "indwelling," differing only in degree or state from that with which God beatifies the saints in Heaven, alt1~ougl4 it is most certainly produced by ~the presence of the whole Blessed Trin-ity--" We {vill come to him, and will make .our abode ,with him" (dohn 14: 23)--nevertheless' is attributed in .a peculiar manner to the Holy Spirit. " Habitual union with God present in the~soul in a pecul-iar way through sanctif)fing, grace is of. the very essence of spiritual perfection in this world, since without sanct.ifying. grace we are supernaturallyand spiritualIy dead. On the other hand, the more sanctifying grace is increased in our souls by the worthy r.eception of the sacraments, especially of the Holy Eucharist, and by the assiduous practice of .the 255 AUGUSTINE KI~AAS Review [or Religious virtues, principally charity, the more, intimate becomes our habitual union with God and "the greater our spiritual.per-fection. When We shall have.acquired the maximum sanc-tifying grace we are capable of, granted our particular, indi-vidual opportunities of nature and.of grace, then.we shall hard attained to the closes~ habitual union with God and tbe highest perfection. This fundamental, essential perfec-tion spiritual writers sometimes call static, perfectior~. There is still another union with God flowing almost spontaneously from the'preceding'one-active union. Ac-tive union with God is called d~cnamic perfection and is what we ordinarily mean when we speak of spiritual per-fection. It consists in union with God by mind and will activity. Union with God b~t Mind Activity Active union with God" through intellect is had by thinking of God, by acquiring more and more knowledge of Him and His divine attributes fromthe .double source of reason and supernatural faith. Such knowledge of God is highly praised in Holy Scripture: "For to know thee is perfect justicei and to know thy justice, and thy power, is'tbe root of immo~tali,ty" (Wisdom 15:3). And Saint Paul: "Furthermore I count all things to be but loss for the ' excellent knowledge of Jesus Christ my lord (Philippians 3:8) . in whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge" (Colossians 2:3). Among the Fathers of the Church, did not Saint Augustine epitomize the whole of the spiritual life as an ever increasing knowledge of self and of God? By knowledge of God is here meant not. merely theo-retical knowledge, scientific knowledge, knowledge of God acquired chiefly by the study of philosophy and theology, book knowledge, if you will. Practical knowledge of God. 256 July, 1945 PERFECTION I$ ~JNION WITH GOD that is, knc~wledge inducing will activity, , is still more important. Let us evaluate knowl~dge of God with refer~ ence to perfection. Theoretical knowledge of God is excellent. It can be, .and frequently is, a puissant help and incentive' tospiritual perfection. However, it must be asserted that while such knowledge provides a useful soiid basis for perfection, it does not constitute our spiritual perfection, nor even.indi-care the degree of perfection we may possess. Have there ¯ not been saints, like Benedict Labre and Bernadette Soubi-rous, whose scientific theoretical knowledge of God was ¯ very meager? On the other hand, do we not sometimes see students of theology, who have a verst superior knowledg~ of God and work at it all day long; leading imperfect liveR? The fallen angels have an excellent theoretical knowledge of God, but they are the very opposite of perfect. Eminent theologians warn us that perfection "does not consist in union with God by mind activity alone, even a great deal o~ it. "Tell me, dear Father," said Brother Giles one day to the learned Saint Bonaventure, "can a simple, uneducated person love God as much as a scholar? . Yes," replied Bonaventure, "a simple, little old grandmother can love God more¯ than a master of theology." Whereupon, we are told, guileless Brottier Giles rose up, rushed out ¯ th?ough the garden and along the streets of the town crying at the top Of his voice: :"O poor, ignorant, simple old grand-mother, love Gri!! You can still overtake Brother Bona-venture." If this is true, what the little old gran.dmother probably bad was not so much a theoretical as a practical, a '~realized" knowledge of God, a knowledge leading to,the firm judgment.and deep conviction:' "I must value and 10ve God above all else." ¯UpOn this pract!cal mind activity can be built the loftiest perfection, but in itself it still is not the union with God that is equated with spiritual perfection. 257 AUGUSTINE "KLAAS Reoiew for~ Retigiou; Hence, .while we must greatly esteem knowledge of God, both theoretical ~nd practical, and strive constantly and perseveringly to incre~ise it, by meditation, .by spiritual reading, by delving deeper into the truths of faith, by ofien recalling the presence of God. by recollection, and the like, we must not remain content with only that. If we would be perfect we must pass from union with God by mere mind activity to something b~yonfl, to something still more. pre-. cious, to union witb God' by will activity,by~love. Saint Teresa of Avila says t.hat clearly when discussing union with God in her Foundations (chapter 5): "The soul's advancement, does not conist in thinking much; but in loving much." Our spiritual perfection .is measured, .therefore, not by our knowledge of God, even though it be the knowledge of strong supernatural faith, but rather by" our~active lo~¢e of Him. That is why Saint Thomas can say that "the love of those things which are above us; and especially of God, is to be preferred to the knowledge ~f them: Wherefore charity is more excellent than fafth" ¯ (Summa II-II. Q. 23, Art. 6). A'nd so the little old grand~ mother could probably never overtake the saintly Doctor of the Church by her mind activity, even hi~r practical mind activity: she could overtake him by her will, by her union with God through will acti~;ity, by her active love of God. : Union with God by Will Actiuitg Presupposing in the soul a-close union With God through sanctifying grace and a certain necessary union with Him through mind activi(y, we maintain that spir-itual perfection consists above all in union with God by will activity, that is, by active love of God. Supernal~ural faith and hope must be present in the soul, but we are per-fect in proportion as we love God more; and when we have 258 du1~,1945 PERFECTION IS UNION WITH GOD attained the maximum.activelove of God we are capable of with the assistance of grace, then we have reached the very summit of the mount of perfection. Active love is th~ norm and gauge of spiritual perfection. We are just as perfect as we are united to God by active love of Him. Such is the unanimous teaching of Catholic theologians. as for instance, Saint Thomas, who states in his Perfection of Spiritual Life that "the spiritual life consists principall~r in charity. He is simply perfect in the spiritual life who is perfect in charity."° It is' the teaching of the Fathers of the Church who agree with Saint Augustine when he informs us in. his work On Nature and Grace that "incipi-ent charity is incipient justice [justice here means holiness] ; advanced charity is advanced justice; great charity.is great justice; perfect charity is perfect justice." It is the teaching of Saint Paul (I Corinthians 13). It is the explicit teaching of Christ Himself: "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and withlthy whole soul, and with thy whole mind. This is the greates.t and the first com-mandment. And the second-is like to th~s:.Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." (Matthew 22:37-39.) And again: "Be you therefore perfect, as also your heavenly Father is perfect" (Matthew 5:48). And Saint ~John explains: ':God is charity. '" (I John 4: 16).1 Degrees of Union with God Spiritual masters have made many attempts to give us ~he ascending scale, of degrees in this unifying love of God and the characteristics that mark each degree. They are at ,variance in detail; fundamentally, however, they are in accord, for the main landings on the grand stairway leading to the highest love of God are p.retty well known and agreed upon by all. There are three suchlafidings or degrees of 1For. a fuller treatment of this point, el. Revi'eto for Reliyious, Vol. I, pp. 238 sqq. 259 ¯ ~,UGUSTINE KLAAS union with God through love. In the first the soul is so united to God and loves Him to such a degree that it habitually avoids all mortal sin and the occasions of grave sin. It has a nascent but still feeble desire for greater perfection; it still commits many venial sins, but it struggles valiantly and successfully against strong temptations. Penance for the past, purification, and mortification characterize this rather negative degree. Its prayer is mainly discursive meditation on the .fundamental truths of faith, particularly the four last things. This is the degree of beginners in the life of perfection and it is called the Purgative W.ay. in the second degree, the soul not only avoids all mor-tal sin, but habitually rejects deliberate venial sin. It makes advances in detachment from creatures and has an inc.reasing desire for perfection. The degree is more positive than negative, since the emphasis is on the acquirement of the virtues, especially by the imitation ot~ and assimilation to Christ, "the way, the truth, and the life." The prayer in this degree tends to be predominantly affective. It is the degree of those ad.vancing in perfection: it is called the" Illuminative Way. Presupposing the habitual practice of the other two, the third degree is marked by the struggle to reduce semi-deliberate venial sins and imperfections to the minimum. The soul has made great strides towards heroic detachment and is now intent on the maximum practice of the counsels and works of supererogat!on. Its manner of praying becomes more and more simple, contemplation of God's attributes being a favorite form in this degree. Intense charity permeates all its activity, since it now lives for God alone. This is the Unitive W.ay. Of course, these degrees cannot be rigidly delimited. Nor does .the soul. leave one degree and proceed to the next 260 July, 1945 PERFECTION IS UNION WITH GOD mechanically: it may. be and generally.is ~to some extent in all degrees at once. For example, in.order.to keep onese!f babitually from mortal sin, does one not have to observe a certain number of.the counsels? ~.Is the soul in the third degree exempt from doing penance? The Whole matter is one 0f emphasis, and according to the predominance of the va.rious.qualities noted above, a soul.can be easily placed in one of the tb?ee degrees. Moreover, tb~ third degree admits of indefinite progress, since we can neverlove God as much as He can be loved, and hence; our unions with Him can ,ever become more., intimat~ ag long as we live on this earth. Perf.ect and Imperfect. Love of God From the restricted viewpoi.nt of, nobility of moti~ce .two kinds Of active love of God may be distinguished. can love God above all else because He is good to us. Such is the love of God .indicated by the Psalmist when .be exclaims: "For thee my flesh and my heart hath fainted away" thou art the God of-my b.eart, and the God that is my portion forever" (Psalms 72:26). And again: ."I will ¯ love thee, O Lord,my strength.: the Lord, is-my firmament, my.refu'ge, and ~my deliverer . " .(Psalms 1'7:2). Our Lord appeals to thismotive when He proposes "treasure. in bea'Oen. '~ tbe"bundredfold," and "life e.verlasting." Because of the less perfect nature of the motive this love of God, called "imperfect love" or "i.nterested love" of God. it is already a great deal and should by no means be contemned or slighted, but there is a higher love of God springing from a nobler motive: "perfect. love," or as it is sometimes called "disinterested love", of God. "Perfect love" of God is had when We love Him above all else not so much for the good He so generously bestows on us, but for Himself, because He is all-good in Himself. , This "perfect love" is known as the love of benevolence and 261 AUGUSTINE KL&AS Revietv /:or Religio~s friendship. In its exercise we prescind from our own inter-ests or at least subordinate them to Him, since we love God simply for Himself,, and not for our own advantage. "Fhis highest of motives makes this the highest type of love of .God. In it we take complacent delight in God and in His perfections; we ardent!y desire to glorify Him; we actively give glory to Him by conforming our will as much as pos-sible in all. things to His: we .bring others to glorify Him. And all tl~is simply because God is God,.because God is all-good and all-lovable in Himself. The love Of benevolence affd friendship: is perfected extensively when we embrace by our lov~ more of the per-fections of God and more of His creatures; it: is perfected intensivelty when we make the acts of love more vehemently and more constantly until we develop a solid habit of the perfect love of God. W'hen the love reaches the maximum we are capable of then we are simply perfect. M~/stic Union with God Finally, there is still another union with God for which the union by rhind and will activity is an indispensable preparation. It is mystic union, a special gift of God's grace to His favored friends. Mystic unidn with God, an earthly union which approaches that of theblessed in heaven, is not necessary for spiritual perfection, but it is a potent means to it because it results insublime and intense acts of the perfect love of God. The precious gift of mystic union generally presupposes in him who receives it an advanced degree of union with God by active love, espe-cially perfect love. Conclusion To conclude by way of.summary: spiritual perfection is union with. God. It is union with God by a maximum 262 July/, 1945 ' PERFECTION IS UNION WITH GOD of sanctifying grace, called static perfection. It is unio.,n., with God. by a certain am.ount of necessary supernatura'[ mind activity, theoretical and practical. It is union with God by a maximum of supernatural will activity, a maxi-mum of the perfect love of God, called dynamic perfecti.on. This earthly union with God .whkh is our perfecti6n merits for us and is the measure~of our Union with God in "heaven, our ultimate, inamissible perfection. All our union with God, both in heaven and on earth, all.our spiritual perfection, we owe to the hyp0static union with God had in Jesus Christ, since He as God-man merited them fbr us by His life, passion and death. Moreover, He is the peerless Model of all spiritual perfection and union with God. PAMPHLET NOTICES It seems that religious institutes in increasing numbers are issuing pamphlets and other material to attract aspirants to their ranks. This is as it should be. One such pamphlet comes from South Africa and bears the title, Priestly/ and Religious Voca-tion. After giving a brief account of the m. issionary activity of the Oblates of Mary Immaculate, the author, Father T. F. Kelly, O.M.I., describes the nature and signs of vocation both in relation to the priesthood and to the religious life. He con-cludes with an earnest plea to the generous young people of South Africa to heed' the call of Christ. The pamphlet may be.obtained from the Oblate Novitiate, 44 Park-hill Road, Glebe, Germistou, Transvaal, South Africa. With the same purpose in mind the Sisters of Loretto, Lor~tto M0therho~se, Ner~inx. P.O., Kentucky, have issued a folder entitled "Congratulations Pegg~It."' Written in the form of a letter to a young woman about to enter the novitiate it gives us a brief account of the founding, the history, and the ~vork of the Lorettines in the Uuited States and in China. Some good photogral~hs depicting houses and activities of the congregation greatly increase the value of the folder. Father Albert H. Dolan, O.Carm., the zealous promoter of devotion to St. Therese of Lisieux, has issued a pamphlet, St. Therese, Patroness of the Mis-sions. In 16 pages he sets forth the reasons why SL Therese was chosen as Patron-ess of the Missions and urges her devout clients to follow her example of prayer and unfemittipg sacrifice for the missions. The pamphlet may be obtained from The Carmelite Press, 6413 Dante Avenue, Chicago, Illinois, or 55 Demarest Avenue; Engie~ood, N.J. Piice: ten cents. 263 Our,.Lady's Parents Francis L. Filas, S.3. MUCofH thaes p waree Wntso.u lodf l iOkue rt o,L'kandoyw, w thee c aacnt"u afli nlidf en-osttohriyng directl'y concerning them in the Gospels. However~ Holy Scripture gives us some information in stating that Christ was promised to Abraham and to 3acob, ~nd that He came out of the tribe of 3uda.1 This means that 3esus was a son of David and a son of Abraham, not only legally ~hrough St. 3oseph but also naturally through the Blessed Virgin, and therefore through her parents, 3oachim and /~nne. Various Scripture scholars have proposed a rather ingenious theory tO show that Luke set forth the genealogy of Mary rather than of 3oseph when he.wrote, "And 3esus Hi.resell, when He began His work, was about thirty years . of age, beingmas was supposed--the son of 3osdph, the son of Heli . : . the son of David . . the son of Adam. who was the son of God" (3:23). According to this the-ory the text is phrased differently so as to read, "3esus. being--as was suppbsed the son of 3oseph--the sori of Hell," and so,forth. Thus the person of Heli is identified with the person of 3oachim. Even further, the two names are said~ to be the same, for "Hell" ~Eli) is taken as a shortened form of "Eliachim." Both "Eliachim'~ and "3oachim" are interchangeable, meaning in Hebrew, "God sets up." Unfortunately, so charming a .theory is far from being accepted by all Scripture scholars. From earliest times the ¯ genealogies of Matthew and Luke have usually been inter- XGenesis 18,22, 28; Luke 1:32; Romans'l :3; 2 Timothy 2:8; Hebrews 8. 264 OUR LADY'S PARENi'S preted as giving the 1,egaI ancestry of Our Lord through St. Joseph and not through Mary. This has been the gen-eral tenor of opinion even thoug,19 no one theory fits per-fectly in further explaining th~ problems connected with the two varying accounts. Because of this silence ofthe Gospels we must turn to the only other possible sources of information concerning Mary's parents: the Iegends of Joachim and Anne. The Legends of Joachim and Anne At first sigh~ it might)seem a worthless task to have recourse to a legend to seek data about historic personages. Yet in the case of Joachim and Anne nothing else exists. We must at least consider what' was said about them, even if we cannot a~cept it all as true. The earliest account in which they are mentioned.-is Called the Protoeoange! of James, a work pretending to be a history of the birth of Mary and of the early events in tl~e life of Jesus. 'Having originated about 150 A, D., it is 0nly a hundred years younger than the Gospels and thus enjoys a reputation of antiquity. .- In common with other apocryphal literature ,of its type the Protoeoanget of James was apparently based on snatches of true tradition--a sort.of 'pious gossip---con-cerning Christ and those who were near to Him. Some~ thing like our modern historical novel, the Protoevanget wa~ meant to fill in with plausible details the gaps where the curiosity of the faithful was left unsatisfied by the four Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke~ and John. But unlike "these Gospels the Apocryphal tradition was of purely human origin. It was neither divinely inspired when com-posed nor providentially kept pure when transmitted. Accordingly, as it was.repeated again and again in word and writing, it accumulated more and more exaggerations, 265 FRANCIS L. FILAS R6biew for Religious and additions, so that at the present day we have no way of determining what is genuine and what is spurious in ~its content. The Chur~ch never accepted this imitation of the true Gospels, but early branded it as apocryphal'(as, for example, in .the Decree' of Pope Gelasius in 495). The majority of early Fa,thers of the Church, as well as later ecclesiastical writers, likewise recognized it as counterfeiL None the less, popular authors in the Middle Ages and afterward borrowed .extensively from .the legendary, source in order to stimulate the great ~levotion of the Ages of Faith. In all this spurious devotional literature the ques-tion of lying or passing on a lie was seemingly not attended to; rather, generous hearts uncritically sought and eagerly accepted every means to gain mbre knowledge, of the lives of desus and His saints. Two enlargements were made of the legend of ,loachiin and Anne as it appeared in the Pt'ptoevar~gd of da~es: namely, the Gospel of Pseado-Matthev~ (about 450 A. D.) and the Gospel of the Nativity/ [~f Mat'V (exact date unknown). As is evident, there is more likelihood of truth in the original, the P, rotoevar~get, than in any of its suc-ceeding variations. This is the substance of the original account: Joadhim is a rich and generous shepherd. He and his Wife Anne are deepl.y grieved because they have no chil-. dren. V~rhile Anne is lamenting tl6e curse of her sterility, an angel appears tO her with the Words, "The Lord hath heard thor prayer, and thou shalt conceive, and shalt bring forth; and thy seed shall be spoken of in all the world." At the same tim~ a similar vision is granted Joach~m ~hile tending his flocks~ In gratitude to God, Anne promises to consecrate.he~ child to the divine service in the Temple. Upon the birth'of the child, who receives the name of 266 dulg, 1945 OUR LADY'S PARENTS l~ary, the happy mother breaks out into a canticle of thanksgiving. Later, when she is three years old, Mary is .brought to the,Temple and joyfully remains there to praise and serve God. Such is the g!st of the early chapters of the Proto-evangel of James. In the Gospel of Pseudo-Matthew :the story is given more imagingtive coloring: Joachim's gen-erosity is described at greater length. He distributes his riches to the poor and to those "who' worshipped God"' before taking ashare for himself. At 15 he is already a wealthy shepherd" and at 20 be marries Anne, "the daughter of Acbar, of his own tribe, that is,. of the tribe of 'Juda of the family of David." The couple's childlessness lasts for twenty years, after which the angels appear to Anne and Joachim. The rest of this tale merely develops the story of the Protoevangel, adding more details, greatek emphasis, and .particularly more frequent miraculous inter-ventions. The third and final form of the legend is contained in the Gospel of the Nativitg of Maw, a charming though unhistorical con~pilation of the preceding tradition. This Gospel does not'add substantially to the tale of th~ Proto-evangel, but rather edits it.so that the poetical beauty of the narrative is heightened and made more sublime. ~What Is True of Joachim and Anne? The task of separating the true' from the false in the old Apocryphal legends is most difficult, if not impossible. Yet, though we have no historical norms by which to judge, we can at least, attempt to determine what is definitely interpo!ated and what can perhaps be a vestige of the orig-inal correct tradition. ' In the first place, the special i'niracles of the angelic appa-ritions are quite doubtful. Such momentous divine inter- 267 FRANCIS L. FILAS Review for Religiods ventions in the lives of the parents of Mary would certainly have &awn so muchattention should we say notoriety? .-=to the Blessed Virgin that the obscurity which a-ccom-panied her life with doseph and desus would have given way to constant public notice. Moreoyer,- the Proto-evangel of dames, like all the Apocrypha, has a'very explicit tendency to scatter miracles with a bountiful hand through-out its narrative. Perhaps the most cogent reason for denying credibility to the miracles of the,Protoeoar~gel is the evident modeling of these prodigies on genuine miracles related in Holy Scripture. All the writers of Apocryphal legends are eager to have their accounts placed on a par with the canonical Gospels. They not only copy typical Gospel stories, but even plagiarize directly from th~ inspired text. In thecase ofdoachim his forty days" fast as a prayer. to obtain a child is based on the fasts of Moses, Elias, and Christ.~ Even more striking is the parallel between Anne~s prayer to (3od and theprayer of ,~dnna, mother of Samuel, that the Lord "would give to His servant a man-child.''3 Again, the canticle of thanksgiving of Anne, wife of 3oa-" chim, .is suspiciously similar to.the canticle of her earlier namesake and, .to some extent, to the Mayrffficat of the Blessed Virgin.4 In contrast to the few imi~ortant details given by the Gospels, the legends go to great lengths to set forth trivi-alities. -That is why the familiar details concerning Joa-chim's prosperity must also be re]ected. They constitute precisely the information which the Apocrypha were invented to supply. o The least~doubtful of all the data in the legend is the correctness o.f. the names Joachim and Anne. It seems UExodus 24:18, 34:28; .3 Kings 19:8; Matthew. 4:2. al Kings 1:9,18. 41 Kings 2: Luke 1:46-55. 268 dulq, 1945 'OuR'LADY'S PARENTS likely that,the name "Anne'~ (Anna: Hannah) reminded the early writer of Hannah, mother of Samuel, and thus led him to introduce the direct divine announcement of the forthcoming birth Of M~ry, modeled on that of the annouficement of the birth of Samuel. On the other hand, "Elcana," the name of the father Of Samuel has no resem-blance to "Joachim," the name of the father of Mary. Neither the names nor the circumstances related of Joachim and Elcana are similar. Finally, we must not forget that in all Christian centuries "Joachim" and ".Anne" were accepted as the names of the parents of Mary even while.the other details of their legend were discarded by the majority of Church scholars. While we .can prudently, doubt the authenticity of the legends of 3oachim and Anne, we know with absolute cer-tainty that God gave them every grace needed for their posi-tion as father and fiaother of the Mother Of God: The all-perfect and sinless Mary could hardly be born of any but the most saintly parents. In granting Joachim and Anne the title of saints, the Church has acted wisely and con-si~ te.ntly. The devotion v~hieh it sanctioned does not strand or fall with the correctness or falsity of the iegends. Rather, it represents the honor that is logically paid to the two per-sons ;¢¢hom the Eternal Father chose to bring forth the Mother of God. Just as J~sus sancti~fied Mary and Jose.ph by.His close relations with them, so must Mary .have sanc-tiffed h~r father and mother by her intimacy with ~hem in the years durir~g whi(h God was preparing her for her career as mother of the Savior and as the mother of all redeemed mankind. , The words of St. Peter Damian best express the atti-tude we ought to cultivate with regard to the details of the lives of Mary's parents. "There are s~ome," he writes, "who ¯ w~shing to know what is useless, seek with vain and exces- , 269 ¯ FRANCIS L. FILAS sire curiosity to find who was the father and who ¯ mother of Mary. They seek. to discover in vain¯What the Evar~gelist deemed it superfluous to ~elate. Had this knowledge been necessary, so noble a historiafi would not have neglected to give it to us, inasmuch as it is the constant practice of the sacred writers never to say .what can injure and never to omit what it is useful for us to know.''" If the greatness of the Blessed Virgin stemmed from. ,Joachim and Anne, the Gospels would have described them fully to us. But the case is actuallythe opposite. Mary is the light in whose reflected glory her parents shine. That is sufficient for Our interest. With absolute assurance we know the greatness of Mary from the revealed word of God. This fact again is more than enough to deduce the greatness of her parents. Our piety and devotion do not rest on an old tradition which cannot be authenticated and might one day be proved false in its'entirety. They are based on the truth demonstrated again and again during nine'teen cen-turies of Christian history--nearer to Ma~y means nearer to God. OUR CONTRI.BUTORS AUGUSTINE KLAAS, Professor of Sacramental Theology at St. Mary's College, is the author of several previous articles on the nature of perfection. (~. AUGUSTINE ELLARD and GERALD KELLY are members of our Editorial Board and Professors of Ascetical Theology and Moral Theology respectively. WALTER J. ONG is a stu-dent of theology at St. Mary's. FRANCIS L, FILAS, who has recently been ordained to the priesthood at West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana. has con-tributed several articles to earlier i~sues of the REVIEW. ~Hom. 3 in Natio. B.V,M. .270 ( ues ions and Answers 35 Many sacristans would be grateful ~o you if you would publish these qu6stions and the answers to them in Review for Religious: (I) Must blessed ashes left over Trom Ash Wedn~e~day be put into the sacrarlumT. (2) Please llst all things that should be put into the sacrarlum. 1 ) Yes, it.ls proper to put the blessed ashes into the sacrarium, or else to throw them into the fire. (2) We cannot guarantee to give a list of all the thifigs that should be put into the sacrarium. Here are some of them: used baptismal water, other .blessed water, the.contents of the ablution cup kept near the tabernacle, the water used in washing the altar linens (palls, purificators, and corporals), and the water left in the taoabo dish after Mass. Please outlln~ the respective jurisdiction of the mother general and the local superior in a motherhouse in .which there is alsoa novitiate. What authority should each exercise with regard to (I) Sisters residing habitually in the house, (2). Sisters visiting the motherhouse, (3} occasional, events.~ The mother general goverias the institute as a whole; the local superior governs the local community just as any .other local superior does. Hence the Sisters residing habitually in the house, as well as Sisters visiting the motherhouse, are subject to the local Superior as they would be in any other community. As to occasional events, these have reference either to the local community or to the institute as a whole. In the first case they are under the direction of the local superior, in the second case under that of the mother ~eneral. The novitiate i~ directly under the care and supervision of the mistress of ndvices. Canon 561, § 1 clearly indicates this: "The master (mistress) of novices alone has the right and the obligation of providing for.the formation of the nbvices; he alone is charge.d with the direction of the novitiate, so that no one, under whatever pretext, may interfere in these matters, except 'superiors who are permitted to do so by the constitutions and the canonical visitors; as to the gen-eral discipline of the house, the master (mistress),. together v~ith.the novices themselves, is subject to the (local) superior." 271 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religious In two of our cqnvents there has been a bng-standlng custom of taking the body of a deceasi~d Sister to the communlty.chapel on the afternoon before the day of the funeral. I recall either hearing or reading that only the body of a deceased bishop, priest, etc., may be left in the church or chapel befor~ the burial Mass. What is the affltude of the Church on this point? Has canon law any provisions regarding.this maffer? There seems to be no positive, legislation either prohibiting or permitting the body of a deceased person to be brought to .the church or' chapel the day before the funeral and to remain there overnight. o Hence it would seem to be determined by local custom. In places where such a custom has been observed for a long time it may be con-tinued, but it .should not be introduced in other pkices without first consulting the local ordinary. 38 Some years ago we opened a mission house in a diocese distinct from that in which our motherhouse is located. We obtained permission from both bishops to do so. We now wish to close this house, because of serious difficulties. Is it necessary to informboth bishops of our intention to dis-continue our services in that particular parish? The closing, of a religious house is provided for in canon 498 which reads as follows: "No religious housel whether formal or not, belonging to an exbmpt institute, can be suppressed without apostolic authority; a house belonging to a non-exempt congregation approved or commended by the Holy See can be suppressed by the.supbrior gen-eral with the consent of the local ordinary; if it belongs to a diocesan congregation, it can be suppressed by "the mere authority .of the local ordin.ary after consultation with the superior of the congregation, subject however to the prescription of canon 493 if there be questio,n of an only house, and preserving the right of recourse with suspensive ~ effect to the Apostolic See." "' .Hence we must distinguish three cas~s: (1) The house belongs to an exemp.t institute, that is, to an order (which is exempt by law) or to a congregation which enjoys:a special privilege of exemption. In this case the permission of the Holy See must be obtained in order" to close the house. (2) The house .belongs to a congregation approved or commended (decree of praise) by the Holy See. In this case the superior general can close the house with the comenr .of the local ordin.ary, that is, the bishop of the.diocese in which, the house to 272 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS be closed is located. If' the bishop does not igiv.e his consent, the house cannot b~ closed by the su15erior general, o But the perrnissibn of the bishop of the diocese in which the motherhouse is located is not required to close a house in another diocese. (3) The house belongs to a diocesan congregation. The local ordinary alone can close it after consultation with the superior general of the congregation. The superior 'general cannot close the house: odly the bishop can do so. He must consult the superior general, but he does not need the consent o~ the latter. However, if the superior general thinks the house should not be closed, he may appeal to the Holy See against the decree of the bishop. Until the Holy See decides the case the decree remains sus-pended. ~ ~ m39~ On page 306 of the September, 1944, issue of t.he Review, you have an' article on rosaries made of string. We are eager to learn if anyone use these rosaries and gain the indulgences, or is their use restricted to those who are in the armed forc'es? May~ the rosary indulgences be gained by using the rosary plaques which have a kind of notched bead effect forming a decade around the plaque? These have been advertised in some Catholic reviews. ~ From the fact that this extraordinary privilege of blessing rosaries made of string was granted only to chaplains of the British and Allied Forces for the duration of the war, provided they already enjoyed the privilege of blessing and,indulgencing rosaries, it wo.uld seem to follow that the use of such.rosaries is confined to members of the armed forces. It is very doubtful whether others may use them and gain the indulgences ;ittached. In order that it may be blessed and enriched with indulgences,'a ¯ rosary must be made in the form prescribed.by the Church, that is, it must consist of five, ten, or fifteen, decades. The Sacred Congrega-tion of Indulgences explicitly declared on January 20, 1836, that gold or silver rings upon which ten beads had been embossed could not be blessed with the indulgences of the rosary. Such devices as ¯ rings and plaques may be a help for counting Parers and Ayes, but one would not gain the indulgences attached to the recitation of the beads by using them Is a religious institute justified in refusing perpetual vows to a religious who from the first year of her temporai'y profession began' fo manifest' .273 QUESTIbNS AND ANSWERS Review [or Religioug sym.ptoms of a psychosis (dementia praecox h/pc)?' The doctor s!ncerely believes that the cause and perhaps some minor symptoms may have been present heft;re her first'profession (unknown to the relkjious herself). The doctor also recommends that the individual return to the world because she will have a better chance of maklncj' a normal adjustment outside the environs of the cloister. The answer to this case is contained in canon 637: '"Those who have ,made profession of temporary vows may, when the term of the vows has expired, freely leave the institute: likewi'se, the institute, for just and reasonable motives, cab excltid~ the rehglous from renewin~ the temporary vows o_r~from~,making profession of perpetual~vows, nbt however because-bf ili health unless it be clearly proved that the religious, before profession, had fraudulently hidden or dissimulated the.illness." The institute, therefore; may not refuse perpet.ual vows to the religious in question if she did not fraudulently conceal her illness. The religious, however, is free to leave at~th.e expiration of her tem-porary vows, and a dispensation would readily be g'ranted by the proper a.uthority before the temporary vows have expired. It would be advisable, therefore, to have the doctor inform the Sister frankly of her condition and of the prospect of recovery outside the cloister, and to have him suggest to her that she should ask for a dispensation from her temporary vows, or at least leave of her own accord at the expiration of her temporary vows. If the Sister insists on staying, however, the institute may not send h~r away but must allow her to take perpetual vows if she is mdnt~lly capable of doing so. With reference to those who may be incapable of pronouncing final vows, it may be useful to introduce here two answers regarding the treatment and status of a religious who loses his mind during the period of tempbrary vows. The answers were given by the Sacred Congregation of Religious on Februars; 5, 1925, with the approval of His Holiness, Pius XI. "Whether one who is professed of the simple vows in an order or congregation, and who during the three years loses his mind, even incurably according, to the judgment of physicians, can at the end of three years be sent ,back to his relatives or into the world, or whether he must be kept in the religious institute?" The answer given: "In the negative'to the first part; in the af~rmative to the. second." To the further question: "What is the juridical condition of such 274 1945 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS a religious, and what are the obligations of the religious institute in the matter?" the reply was: "The' religious in question belongs to the religious institute in the state in which he was when he lost his mind. and the institute has th~ same obligations towards him that it,had at that time." ~41-- A certain mother superior of a concjreoafio~ in which temporary vows are taken for a year at a time for three: years preparatory to perpetual profess!on availed herself of the permission granted by canon 577, § 2 to "anticipate the renewal of temporary vows by one month. Thus, suppose the Sisters who made their first temporary profession on August IS, 1942, were permiHed to renew their vows for a year on July IS, 1943, and again on June IS, 1944, and final!y were'allowed to take their perpetual vows on June 15, 1945. Would such perpetual vows be valid? No, the perpetual vows .would not be valid because canon 572 requires that a period of three years x~ith temporary vows precede the profession of perpetual vows in order that it "may be valid. The Sis-ters in question had temporary" vows for only two years and ten months. Hence their perpetual vows were invalid. The mother superior misunderstood the permission granted in canon 577. This allows the renewal of temp,orary vows to be antici-pated ¯ by some days but not beyond one month. It does not take away any of the time required for temporary vows. When the Sis-ters took their first vows for a year, that year expired on the same recurring day one year later, August I15, 1943. Hence the vows which were renewed for another year on duly 15, "1943 did not begin to bind until'August 15, 1943, and did not ,expire until August 15, 1944. That this is the only meaning which canon 577 can have becomes evident if we read canon 34, § '3, 5° which tells us how time is to be computed in this case: "When there is question of acts to be renewed at stated times, for instance, a period of three years after temporary profession up to perpetual prof,ession, the'~ime ends on the same recurring day on which it began, but th~ new act may be placed. at any time on ~bat day." Hence perpettial profession may not be made until the same calendar day three years.after the first tempora(y profession ~was made. As w~ have seen above, this complete period of three .years is require.d bE canon 572 for the validit~l of the perpetual. professio.n. 275 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS --42-- Wh~t ;s the ob~J;ga~fion of the local superior wlth regard to conferences to be given to the community from time to time? How often should they be given? Must they be 9;yen by a priest? What is to be done if no priest ;s available? Canon 509 prescribes that "the local superiors shall take care . . . to have given at least twice a month . especially in lay institutes, a pious exhortation to all the members of the house." This exhortation is something.different from the catechetical instruction pre.scribed by the same canon for lay Brothers ahd l~ay Sisters (that separate class of religious devoted-to domestic duties), The purpose of the exhorta-tion is not principally to instruct but to renew the religious spirit and to urge the members of the commu.nity to even greater efforts in the observance of religious discipline and in the acquirement of religious virtues. These exhortations should be given to the community twice a month. Several eminent authors are of the opinion that they need not be given during the summer vacation. The law says that Superiors shall take care. This is a milder form of precept than the ordinary must se'e to it. It requires serious diligence on the part of the superior to have these exhortations given tO the community twice a month. If after diligent care has been exerted' the exhortation, cannot be had, the law is not violated.~ The exhortation may be given by the superior himself or by some other religious of the community tirovided he is capable. In !ay con-gregations an effort should be made to have a priest give these exhor-tations, at least from time t6 time. In case a, priest Or a capable reli-gious cannot be had to give these exhortations, it is recommended that a conference be read in place of the exhortation. Within kecent ¯ years excellent conferences written especially for religious have been published by Fatherg Skelly, Muntsch, Gabriels, and others. They will serve as a substitute for the exhortation as far as subject matter is concerned. This substitute, however, cannot be strictly imposed, since a pious reading is not the juridical substitute for an exhortation. However, in practice, when nothing better can be had, such pious reading of a conference dealing with a subject relating directly to the religious life will.he.lp to attain the puypose of the law, namely, to stir up the religious spirit' and to renew religious observance. 276 ommunicatdons Aga~ns~ "Formalism" " Reverend Fathers: In your last issue a Priest Religious objected to a pointa Sister brought upin the question, "Is there not too much formalism in our life?" The Sister had a point that should make all superiors examine their own governing of their communities. Is adherence to any com-munity rule more important than charity to the laity? 'But that is only by the way. I'd like to answer in my own humble way some of the arguments he proposes in' answer to her question. He begins by saying that we religious are professional people and can't be expected to be on call twenty-four hours a day. Well, if we are professional people, what is our profession? Unless" the religious is in a cdntemplative order, i~n'.t it the saving of souls by persor/al dealings with them? Helping souls to heaven by teaching, preaching, administering the sacra'merits, leading souls closer to Christ by our own'example, especially charity--not only in spiritdal mat-ters but in mundane matters as ~well? We should thank God that the people trust us enough to come to us with their e~rery day troubles, andif these .things make ours a twenty-four-hou,r-a-day job, then that's what it should be. It will be a sorry day for us if they ever do lose this trust in us, and we are not helpingmatters by refusing to even see them. It would be pretty difficult to imagine Christ or the Bles-sed Virgin setting up office hours for those who wanted to talk to them. The story of Christ and the little children gives us some idea of what He would d6. The Priest Religious then goes on to say tha't religious orders would be wrecked over night if their members were at the mercy of every whim and caprice of undisciplined souls that want us to be serv-ants of the pe~ople whenever their impulse suggests. From what I understand of religious life, we're supposed to be servants of the people even when their impulse doesn't suggest it. And as to-the first part, if any order can be wrecked because people want advice, comfort, or even a "hand-out," from the individual members of.the order, it would probably be" for the" good of the Church if it were wrecked. 277 COMMUNICATIONS Reoiew for Rel!yiot~s I know of no such order; but if any exists, its foundations are cer-tainly very shallow--its members are not. at all Christ-like, and they don't give the correct picture of the "Love thy neighbor" policy that Christ preached and that they should practice. The Priest Religious' then goes on to say, "any priest or religious who i~ at the continual call of unreasonable people . endangers his health." That sou,nds as if the average priest or religious has a line of unreasonable people waiting to see him or her all day long. .I've worked' in a large city parish and no one of the five priests there, no matter how popular, ever had more than four different parties waiting for him. It might take him a couple of ho.urs to see them all, but isn't that our job? Not only God, but even the laity expect us to do more than say Mass, hear confessions, run sick calls, teach in the school, and conduct a couple of sodalities. Then too, the average caller at a rectory or convert( is not unreasonable. Certainly., there are.so.me. and we can't expect to be immune. But bnly one out of ten could be called truly unreasonable. The rest of the time isn't the priest or Sister the unreasonable one when he or she objects that the parlor call is taking them from something else? His letter then goes oh to say, "One means of taking care of this situation is to have an intelligent doorkeeper who can "judge when there is a real need." Heaven help us! Why not tell the house-kegper to call us only for sick calls. People usually come to see a priest, not a housekeeper. I've only been ordained nine years, but even I.can see t~e'spirit of anti-clericalism that is growing even among our own people. Much of this is our own fault." Too often we see or hear of a priest or religious who i~ so high-handed that he makes himself inaccessible to the people. That isn't exactly what Christ had in mind when He called us .to be "fishers of men." No, I'm afraid I can't agree with this Pries~ Religious. If we have people storming the doors of our rectories because they want to see the priest, good for us!! True, our health may be endangered by this overwork, but what greater way to become ill tha~by serving the people, reasonable or unreasonable, as Christ would waht us to? In conclusion, to the Sister wl~o asked, "Is there not too much formalism in our life?" I'd like to say, "There certainlyis, Sister, and not nearly enough charity." A Diocesan Priest 278 Jul[t, "19 4 ~ COMMUNICATIONS Delayed Vocations Reverend Fathers: I remember a few years ago a Catholic weekly began to tun a page ~ for the men in~ the.service. Soon the women in the service com-plained that nothing was done for them. Perhaps they will make the same complaint When they realize that' something big is beihg done for the men to keep alive the grace of a vocation to the religious and (or) priestly life, or to enkindle such a vocation. No doubt there are women in the service whom Christ will favor with the call to serve Him as Sisters; women Whom He will want tO continue their marvellous work of caring for the ~eedy and the sick and of educating children, but not without consecrating their lives to ¯ Him in religion as His Spous,.es. These women will bare bad training in rather rigid discipline: they will have learned that it is possible to live contentedly in a uniform that is not made of silks and satins; they will know what it mean~ to make sacrifices for others. It would certainly' be of great heip for them to follow the inspi-rations ot: grace if they would receive positive encouragement from the Sisterhoods, if they .knew they are really wanted. Sisterhoods that are interested in such vocations should let the women know that they are willing to accept them. My attention was called to the Little Flower Mission Circle, Inc. (321.E. 156tb St., New York 55, N. Y.) for the promotion of vocations to all religious communities. It publishe.s a quarterl3~ chlled Come, Folloto Me. Perhaps this could serve the purpose. Or, a bulletin similar to lntroibo could be printed. Centers might be designated where such candidates could meet, either in a schoolc or in the parish hall, or perhaps even in the convent parlor. Tber~ they could come in direct contact with the Sisters. It seems that' such a venture would be most pleasing to Christ and quite profitable to religious communities and to the Church. Religious Priest [EDITORS' NOTE: Upon "receipt of the preceding communication we wrote to the Editor of lmroibo and asked him to tell us something about this publication. We received the following answer--with permission to publish it if we wished.] Reverend Fathers: lntroibo is a mimeographed bulletin that has had three issues since 279 COMMUNICATIONS . Review [or Religlous January and will have five mbre each~year? It is sent to any service-man who writes to Introibo, 19 Eye St., N.W., Washington 1, D.C. It is meant for servicemen who plan to be diocesan priests, religious priests, or Brothers. It makes no difference.what diocese the men will belong t%,or what religious institute they intend to join. The bu

Transcript of an oral history interview with Harold L. Gilmore, conducted by Joseph Cates on 22 January 2017 as part of the Norwich Voices oral history project of the Sullivan Museum and History Center. Harold Gilmore was a member of the Norwich University Class of 1953; his experiences as a student at Norwich University and his post-graduation career path, particularly as an educator, are discussed in his interview. ; 1 Harold Gilmore, Oral History Interview January 22nd, 2017 Home of Harold Gilmore Interviewed by Joseph Cates JOSEPH CATES: Let's record and we can get started. HAROLD GILMORE: All right. Very good. JC: All right. This is Joseph Cates. Today is January 22nd, 2017. I'm interviewing Harold Gilmore at his home. This interview is sponsored by the Sullivan Museum and History Center and is part of the Norwich Voices Oral History Project. To start off, can you tell me your full name? HG: Harold Lawrence Gilmore. JC: And, when and where were you born? HG: Born in Whitinsville, Massachusetts in 1931. JC: Okay. HG: April 30th. JC: April 30th. What is your Norwich class? HG: Class of 1953. JC: Okay. Tell me about where you grew up and what it was like as a child? HG: I grew up in a very unique town. The town of Whitinsville, a village of Whitinsville, in the town of Northbridge, Massachusetts. It was what you'd call a company town. It was a town that was operated fundamentally by the Whitin Machine Works, which was a textile manufacturing company. My father worked there his whole life. My mother worked there part-time at times. It was a town that was written up by the Harvard Business School at one point in time as sort of a socialistic environment. JC: Oh! HG: It was a town that ran the library. It had its own housing for its people. The rents were subsidized so to speak. They maintained those properties. So, it was a very unique environment, something that probably not many people in the United States have ever lived in but was very enjoyable. It was secure and stable 2 employment, good schools. Other resources were all well-made, fire departments, police departments, many of it subsidized heavily by the corporation. JC: And what corporation was it again? HG: Whitin Machine Works. JC: Oh. Okay. HG: And it was a textile manufacturing company. JC: Oh. Okay. HG: Subsequently, it has disappeared. Went out of business. Textile manufacturing moved elsewhere. Moves down South and then out of the country primarily. The remnants of it are over in New Bedford where I ended up retiring from the University of Massachusetts over there where the icon on the entrance of the school is a huge spindle, which is a representative of a device that runs a thread through looms, weaving machines. JC: What made you decide to choose Norwich? HG: Well, I was the first individual in my family to go on to college. It's a large family. My mother was one of eight children. My father was one of four. They married. They lived within, almost a stone's throw of each other. We lived in the same place. I grew up in the same place and had many aunts and uncles in the neighborhood. So, I did not have any prior experience with Norwich. The only thing that was driving me at the time was my father said, "You've got to get a college education." He was a wood pattern maker and worked at Whitin Machine Works, as I noted, and he said, "This is not your lifestyle. You've got to upgrade yourself." I did not have the experience that current people have of visiting campuses. I never went to Norwich. I had an uncle that had gone to the University of Rhode Island. He had not graduated. So, I applied there. And then, Norwich had a high school visit team that came through and I got impressed with what that fellow had to say so I applied to Norwich. I did not get accepted to the University of Rhode Island. So, I had the choice of one school, Norwich. So, I went to Norwich. Unbeknownst to me about anything about Norwich. As a matter of fact, I had my high school yearbook signed by one of the teachers and he signed it, "Hup, one, two, three" and he signed his name. I said, "What's that all about?" He says, "You're going to a military school! You're going to be in the Army!" I says, "I am?" When I arrived at Norwich, it was like a new day in my life. I had no military experience. I'd never even been a Boy Scout. The regimentation was totally new to me. That probably was the beginning of what I consider a rather difficult period of adjustment for the four years. As you will probably know, I was a private in the Corps for four years. 3 JC: Oh. Okay. HG: Never given rank. I had the one opportunity close to graduation, which I refused. I thought it was a token gift which I did not appreciate receiving at that point in time. I didn't accept it. In fact, I applied to transfer out of Norwich my freshman year to start college at Georgia Tech. I got accepted to Georgia Tech, got a telephone call from my mother saying, "What is this acceptance notice we've received from Georgia Tech?" I said, "Well, I'm going to Georgia Tech next year, Ma. I'm not going to Norwich." She says, "Very well. Pay your own way." I stayed at Norwich for the rest of my life because I had no money at all! JC: What was it like that first day showing up at Norwich? HG: Well, it was a very memorable day. My father and mother drove me to school with the necessary material that I had to have, clothing and I think we had to bring a mattress at the time. We arrived at Norwich in the morning. My father and mother dropped me off, dropped me off at Cabot Hall. Room 109 was my room. My roommate, Ron Bartlett, at the time, had arrived about the same time so I met his father and mother. We met each other, of course. My father, immediately after dropping me off, jumped in the car and drove back to Whitinsville. They had to get home before dark I think. We started out very early in the morning. In fact, had to turn back because he discovered on the way that we probably didn't have enough gas to make it all the way to Vermont. We went back to get an open gas station because we started out so early in the morning. But no, they dropped me off and left. I remember a conversation I had with Ron's mother and father and she said, "Would you take care of Ron? He hasn't been away from home before." I said, "Yes, I will, Mrs. Bartlett, but neither have I been away from home before." (Laughs.) That was an interesting first day. And then, in contrast to the first day my second year, where I arrived on campus and used to ship a lot of my stuff up in a big, overseas container by train so that my shipment had arrived at the mailroom on campus. I went to the dormitory and I was back in Cabot the second year too. I said, "Rooks! Rooks! I need a rook to go down and get my suitcase and bring it up to the room." "Sorry, Sir. We don't do that anymore." JC: Oh! HG: The harassment rules had changed over the summertime and I hadn't gotten word of it. Plus, I arrived too late, I guess, because I recall having to do that very same thing for upperclassmen that first year. JC: Mm hmm. HG: So, anyway, that was my first day at Norwich. JC: What was your major? 4 HG Electrical engineering. JC: And why'd you choose that? HG: Well, my uncle was sort of involved with the electrical work and not that he had a great influence on me but I observed that and I thought, "Well." He was working for General Electric at the time and I said, "Well, I think that maybe I would do the same thing." So, I sort of went into that field not for any other particular reason than he was successful in what he was doing and I thought it would be of interest to me. JC: Okay. HG: Fortunately for me, in the long run, there were only nine matriculated double Es in '49, which got depleted very quickly, either through people who didn't continue at Norwich or transferred to some other major. I graduated with one other very close friend of mine to this day, Al Gardner, who lives out in the southern part of Vermont on the western edge of Massachusetts. We were the two electrical engineers that graduated in '53. We had tutorials. It was a very fortunate thing for me because probably the school where I had to fend more for myself, I might not have done as well as I did in the curriculum. It was a good experience. JC: Which fraternity did you belong to? HG: I joined Lambda Chi Alpha, which is off-campus, up on the hill. My primary reason for joining them was at the pledge period, you were entertained at the fraternities. They had an excellent meal. At that time, they had a pastry chef with some sort of recognition and he put on a beautiful dessert and I was a fellow who had been plump my whole life, loved sweets, and said, "This is the place for me!" Joined the fraternity and wouldn't you know it, he terminated. He quit. The pastry guy was gone! But we still had good cooks, husband and wife team over the four years, and I ended up being steward of the fraternity. It was a large part of my college life was being in the fraternity. I had to be there at least every day, serving a meal, because I was in the kitchen. In fact, I got rewarded for doing that type of job with half my food bill was being paid by labor so that worked out very nicely for me. JC: Well, what else do you remember about being in the fraternity? HG: Great social environment. I thought that we had, as any organization you end up with some cliques and I had three or four fellows that I chummed closely with and carried on to this day until both of them have now deceased. We had a life-long bonding there so the fraternity life to me was probably my sole social environment on the campus other than some of the things I did with the intramural sports and whatnot. I really was sorry to see the fraternities go but I understood the reason for it and, of course, I was long out of the school at that time anyway 5 so I didn't react one way or the other. It was just a little bit of self-disappointment in the whole thing. I've kept my affiliation with Lambda Chi Alpha for over the years. I still am a donor to the fraternity. I've had representatives from Indiana come up and visit me at the house here asking me for more money. The Lambda Chi, at the time, had sort of reputation of being an academically-oriented fraternity and scholarly environment. Probably didn't pan out as scholarly as I had thought it would but I think the fraternity still holds to that sort of criteria. They like to have their fraternities be scholastically oriented, not just a place to go and drink beer or mess around with the ladies, you know. JC: Right. HG: So, yeah. I heard there might rumors that the fraternities with the civilian population at Norwich might come back. JC: Really? HG: Yeah. I heard a rumor about that but just a rumor. I'm sure that it'd be a hard sell to get them back on campus. JC: Yeah. I know Theta Chi would like to be back. HG: Theta Chi was the Alpha Chapter so, and Lambda Chi, we were the Zeta Chapter, the Zeta Chapter of Lambda Chi so we were not new in the world of fraternities as Theta Chi was. JC: What intramural sports did you play? HG: I got involved in softball, a little bit of tag football and basketball. As I recall, I managed, I guess you'd say, our company basketball team for a while, not that I was any expert in the sport itself but I knew enough about it to try to get the boys organized and spur them on at the games with the other companies. I was in Company B, I think, most of the time. We did okay but it gave you something to do as well as sit in your room and study, that sort of thing. Then, I was on the rifle team for a while. JC: Oh. Okay. HG: When I discovered that my scores were not counted because they have a system of counting only the top five or six scorers and I was always one or two below. I figured I never was good enough. I shot for the team and I gave it up. Tom Atwood, a classmate of mine, was an Olympic sharp shooter so he's – JC: Oh. Really? 6 HG: Oh, yeah. Tom was on the team and he spent a lot of time during his days in the military doing just that, representing the United States on the Olympic rifle team. Tom and I keep in touch to this day. JC: Okay. HG: Yep. JC: He would be a good one to interview. HG: Yeah. Tom is down in Florida in the winter and out in the Chicago area, I think, in the summer. JC: Okay. HG: They know, the school, where he's located. So, if you want to hook up with him, it'd be nice to get him because he was a cadet colonel too, I believe. JC: Oh. Okay. HG: I think Tom was. I know he was high rank in our corp. Getting old here. I forget some of the facts. JC: I understand. Besides intramural sports, what other activities did you participate in? HG: Oh. Let's see. University activities, you mean? JC: Mm hmm. HG: I don't think I, I didn't get involved in any of the other, oh, the IEEE, they had a professional chapter, student chapter. I was involved in that and became an officer in it. Of course, there weren't too many electrical engineers but we did have some younger grads, classmates coming in to it. We did field trips for that. And I was involved with the administration of it, so to speak. But that was probably it, the IEEE. JC: What does IEEE stand for? HG: Institute of Electrical and Electronic Engineers. JC: Oh. Okay. HG: Yeah. It's still an ongoing organization. I still belong to them. I'm a life member in that organization now, because of my age primarily and being a member for so many years. But yeah, it was a good organization. 7 JC: What'd you do to relax when you were at Norwich? HG: Sleep! (Laughs.) We would go to the movies. Go to Montpelier. Perhaps go out to eat in Barre maybe once a week. One of the difficulties of my being a student at Norwich was I didn't have any money and I didn't have a car. So, I was dependent upon a very tight budget and it didn't loosen up at all until I became a junior and senior where we were getting the ROTC ninety cents a day supplement, twenty-seven dollars a month. That helped a lot for spending money. My mother used to say, "The only time you call home, Harold, is when you want money. We don't have any to give you." So, I used to spread my money pretty thinly. So, I didn't do a lot of relaxing that cost anything. There is an incident. One time, Garry Moushegian, Al Gardner, my buddy, the electrical engineer, and I decided to go horseback riding and thought that'd be nice Saturday afternoon entertainment. So, we went out and, funny thing, we rented the horses and got saddled up, got on the horses, and started our trip. Well, none of us knew how to ride a horse. None of us had been on a horse before. The horses turned around and went back to the barn. Garry's a tall guy. Well, the barn door was so low, he got scraped off the saddle. Laughs. Finally, we get them back outside and get them on the way. We did our tour and we're coming back home and, of course, the horses wanted to get back in the barn again. So, they started trotted along and we're bumping along behind them in the saddles and so forth. We got back to Norwich and Garry came over to my room. He says, "Look at what happened!" It wore holes in his underwear! Laughs. So, we had some laughs, you know. Different things like that happened. That's the biggest recollection I can of the things that we did. We had fraternity parties. We had to get involved in that, preparing for them and that kind of thing was an activity that I did as extracurricular. JC: Did you do anything else for entertainment other than what you mentioned? HG: Not that I can think of. I wasn't in any outside of the school activities. I did join the Masonic Order when I was a senior. I joined that and that involves some off-campus activity. I got involved in the Northfield Church. Even as a freshman, I would walk down to church. So, I got involved in church activities. And to this day, I support the Christian Fellowship Organization financially on campus each year to help them along so they can have programs that they want to put on. They have a little bit of money to work with. JC: Right. HG: So, yeah, that sort of thing I got involved in. JC: Okay. Do you remember any particular songs from when you were at Norwich? HG: Well, there's "Norwich Forever," of course, the school song. There used to be a song we used to sing, "On the steps of Jackman, crying like hell! There's a 8 newborn baby. La da da." Laughs. That song we used to sing. The other words they escape me and they don't escape me. They better escape me. They were choice words. JC: I understand. I know the words too. HG: Do you know the words!? Laughs. No. That's about all I remember. JC: I've got it in an oral history, "The Indecipherable Song." HG: Have you really? JC: Mm hmm. HG: I'll have to read that because I'd like to find out what the rest of the song is. It's something like, "A bastard's son of old NU." Awful song. JC: Yeah. It's an awful song. Any other songs? HG: I don't think so. Not that I can remember. JC: Who were the instructors who were most influential during your time there? HG: Well, the electrical department certainly was. Professor Marsh and Professor Maxfield and Professor Spencer, those three. There's an F.A. Spencer award in electrical engineering on campus, I believe. And I have contributed financially to that several times. I don't necessarily do it every year. Those gentleman were very influential. They were almost like tutors to Al and I. We'd be in class. It was just the two of us. You got to know the people and they got to know us. That was a very unique college relationship, I think, that we had. JC: Mm hmm. What was your favorite class? HG: My favorite class? I don't know what that would have been. I know my most unfavorable class was. JC: What was that? HG: Thermodynamics! I flunked that one. I had to take that as a, in order to graduate, I had to pass that course my final semester. So, I was taking an overload. I like Public Speaking. That was an interesting class. I did that the freshman year. I recall we all had to give a talk and I think the fellow's name was Fisk that was the professor. After I got through, I was critiqued, of course, by the student population, including classmates and they criticized me for having my Boston accent. Fortunately, for me, Professor Fisk was from Braintree, I believe. He says, "Mr. Gilmore is going to be fine with his language. I understood him perfectly." 9 Laughs. So, that was a favorable thing out of that class. I remember that so I'd call it a favorite class. I enjoyed it. JC: What do you remember about being a rook? HG: The harassment. A lot of harassment and the fact that we had these duties to perform like opening of windows and preparing the latrines and shining upperclassmen's brass and shoes and that sort of thing. As a person unfamiliar with that, having been the oldest in a family of four, and the only male in that family, I was fairly independent and having to be subjugated to these requirements was demanding in terms of my having to conform to the practices that were being expected of me. That was the worst part that I knew of. Probably another thing would be being out where I was without an automobile. I grew up, as I say, in Whitinsville where I lived out of town about three miles. So, I was used to being in a remote area but I could drive. My folks had a car they would let me use and I could get into town fairly easily and, once there, there was always other transportation you could get as well. At Northfield, there was just absolutely nothing and the closest town was Montpelier, twelve miles away. And also, getting back and forth to school, my folks did not have the resources, the time, or the ability to bring me back and forth to school. There were no commercial transportation convenient. The only way I could get back would be to get a ride from somebody else. And so, that was always at the top of your mind. When you come home, how am I going to get to school? How was I going to get to summer camp, which was down in Georgia? I had no car. I didn't have an automobile until I had started, after graduation, when I started working for Westinghouse, without a car. I had to save up enough money for a down payment to buy one. So, my first few months at work were devoted to saving as much money as I received from my Westinghouse pay to build up enough money to make a down payment on a car, which I finally did. I bought a used car in Whitinsville. I remember it cost $1350. It was a 1949 two-door Ford sedan. I ended up taking it to Japan with me and selling it off over there. Didn't bring it back. Yeah. So, those were the hard parts of school at Norwich. You know, I can recall when I'd get back from Norwich from a vacation, it be in the evening, you'd see the lights up on the hill and I would breathe a sigh of relief, "I'm back home and I'll be safe here when I get home." It ended up sort of like a security blanket. The school prepared me for, it gave me the keys to success. I'm forever pleased and blessed that I ended up going and staying at Norwich actually. It's created a great deal of enjoyment for me over my life. I've had a great post-graduate career and one of the things it taught me was perseverance, life-long education. I wasn't necessarily a brilliant scholar but I ended up getting three master's degrees and a Ph.D. post-Norwich experience and I think Norwich had to have something to do with that motivation to do that. JC: What are your master's degrees in? 10 HG: I have a master's degree, an M.B.A., and I have a master of science and a master of arts, one in human resources and one in labor relations. JC: Okay and where are they from? HG: One is from Shippensburg and one is from Loretto. That's awful. Can you give me a minute? JC: Yes. HG: I have a B.S.E.E. from Norwich, and M.B.A., a Ph.D. from Syracuse, a master's degree from St. Francis College, and a master's degree from Shippensburg University. JC: Okay. HG: The most important degrees for me, of course, was the B.S. in E.E. and the M.B.A. Ph.D. from Syracuse because those influenced what I did with my life more importantly. The other two degrees were done because of what I felt I needed to be effective in the classroom that I subsequently taught and administered the programs in at both Penn State and at UMASS Dartmouth. JC: Oh. Okay. Let's see. What was your favorite part of Norwich? HG: Favorite what? Part? JC: Part. HG: Part of Norwich? JC: Mm hmm. HG: What do you mean by part? JC: What did you like most about it? HG: Well, I would like the day I graduated was the most favorite part for me. I had my entire family there, extended family. We rented a whole motel. I was the keystone person that ever graduated in Johnson and Gilmore family. As I mentioned, the size is extensive and I remember quite a few relatives to follow, cousins and so forth. That was an occasion that I really, it was a success for me because I went there thinking, "I've got to graduate. I cannot fail." And I hadn't even though that last semester I had to take that extra course to make it through. I did it. And then the fact that it prepared me. I left the place with a job. I had a commission. I got a deferment for ten months so I could go to work for Westinghouse and get some industrial experience before I went in the military. Stayed in the military for my, 11 well I went in for two years but I extended because I got special weapons training with atomic weapons and I was there for close to three years total. Could have stayed longer. I was asked to stay longer but for family purposes I, stayed in the Reserve though. I retired from the military and I made it well up to the rank of colonel which I felt was something I never expected either and I think Norwich prepared me for that sort of experience, knowing how to behave and accept responsibility and perform the duties that I was required up to a successful level, satisfactory level. So, the best day at Norwich was indeed the day I graduated because it marked a major milestone in my life. Just as the first day I went there marked a major milestone. JC: What was the most important thing that Norwich taught you? HG: I think to be respectful of others and to take life-long learning seriously and to be persevering in what you're trying to accomplish. Norwich's motto is "I Will Try." So, any opportunity that came along for me, I seized upon. I was outwardly looking, several Fulbrights, quite a bit of overseas experience, along with my family, and I think Norwich prepared me for that by having an overseas assignment that was one of my first, the only one I had as a lieutenant was in Japan. And I got to like other cultures and so forth. I pursued that in Africa, Europe, and other places. As a matter of fact, I was contemplating a trip to China this year. JC: Oh. Really? HG: Yeah. I think I may go to China. I got the quotation and everything. One of the things I have to clarify is that both my wife and I's status health-wise to make sure that we're fit to go. I think we both will be allowed to do that from a medical perspective. The only thing remaining is making the commitment. JC: Mm hmm. HG: So, yeah. We're looking forward to that. We've gone on a number of cruises in the meantime to Alaska, the Mediterranean, the Caribbean, Alaska. So, we engaged travel, so I think the military and the Norwich environment has cultivated that sort of orientation to our lifestyle. JC: You mentioned "I Will Try." What did it mean to you as a student? HG: What did it mean to me when? JC: As a student. HG: As a student? Probably not much. I don't think you really appreciate that. I appreciate it more now that I've graduated and look back on things. I think, one of the things, it's not "I Will Try" so much but "I Will Stick to It!" 12 JC: Mm hmm. HG: I will not quit! I was amazed at the number of freshman, matriculated freshman that left Norwich the day they had to get a short haircut. JC: Mm hmm. HG: I, fortunately, grew up every summer having my head sheared off with what we used to call a Harvard clip. So, it didn't bother me to have to have it cut another eighth of an inch off. But these fellows that came up with the golden curls that had to get sheared said no and left. I wasn't going to give up. If Norwich's moral had been "I Won't Give Up," it would have been more appropriate than "I Will Try" in my case. "I Will Not Give Up." JC: What does Partridge's idea of a citizen soldier mean to you? HG: Well, it means to me that I'd like to see conscription come back. That's how much meaning it has to me. I think everyone should have a requirement to do some public service of some sort, not necessarily military but some kind of public service to build a concept of patriotism and to embed the value systems that our country stands for in their lives, personal lives. And so, the citizen soldier concept, I thought that Partridge had was just that. A person has a responsibility for his country, his family, and the two can coexist. JC: Mm hmm. HG: So, that's what that means to me, to be part of the process as an individual. JC: Mm hmm. Do you remember any funny stories from when you were at Norwich? HG: I'm sure Fred told you a funny story, the time I came up and down on the dumbwaiter at his surprise. He wondered, "Where was Harry?" And I said, "Here I am!" And I was inside the dumbwaiter cage! Laughs. That was a comedy. The other thing was the, not so much of a story but incident, was the time I repeated earlier about the horseback riding incident. That was a humorous event. I don't recall any other thing comes to mind at the moment. I'm sure there probably were numerous other events that happened that created some humor but I don't recall any right now. JC: So, what did you do after graduation? I know you went to work at Westinghouse. HG: Yeah. I went to work for Westinghouse immediately upon graduation. Had a job before I graduated. And then, I took a deferment from, Westinghouse gave me a deferment for about ten months because I did have the two-year obligation as a commissioned officer. So, then I went in the military and got asked if I were 13 interested in taking a special weapons training. That's the atomic weapons training. I got a Q clearance and so forth. And I went to Sandia Base. While there, a unit, 261st ordinance detachment was formed. I became the first commanding officer for, until such time as the captain showed up to take over the reins. I was in individual training. Didn't finish that. Went in to unit training, the 261st trained with the 5th field artillery battalion for deployment to Japan which, incidentally, at that time was against the peace treaty that we had signed with Japan. We're not supposed to bring any new armament into the country but we did. We brought in nuclear weapons. We used to have a little difficulty, the artillery did, going out to the range and firing it off. I went there and did some field exercises in Iwo Jima in Okinawa. While there, got to talking to a gentleman at KU Ammunition Depot Bar one evening and he was leaving for Syracuse University for the comptrollers' program there. And he says, "Harold, you ought to think about getting your M.B.A." And I said, "Well, what's that?" He says, "It's a master's degree in business administration. It's a great topping off of your electrical engineering degree and it's highly sought after people." Now, this was back in 1957, '57, '58. So, I put in for an early release. It was like eight months early. They weren't going to let me go until I got some congressional involvement by Saltonstall and he facilitated my departure from the military. I didn't give up my commission. I just went in the Reserve. And so, I went to Syracuse at that time. Got my master's degree. Went back to work for Westinghouse. Worked for AVCO in the reentry vehicle business, the Apollo program. And from there, I decided to go on to Syracuse. I got a three-year fellowship for a Ph.D. program in organizational behavior and operations management. So, I took that, went there, gave up my work, sold my home, took my family to Syracuse. Again, very, in retrospect, very risky situation. A lot of people start out looking for a Ph.D. and they never get it. I was told when I arrived, I had a very good advisor, a fellow who I had as an M.B.A. faculty member, Dr. Seimer. He said, "Harold, you do not leave this campus without that Ph.D. because you'll never get it if you do." So, I says, "All right, Dr. Seimer. I will not leave." So, I stayed there and I got the doctorate and left them. In my first job, I was planning to go back to work for AVCO because I was in a research and development division where higher degree were, of course, very prominent. JC: Mm hmm. HG: Well, and they had said, "Well, maybe there might be an opening for you when you get through." Well, three years is a long time and everybody changed chairs there. There didn't seem to be anything open for me so I took a job with the University of North Dakota at Minot Air Force Base in the Air Force Institute of Technology program. The AFIT program. We transferred their master of engineering degree to an M.B.A. degree while I was there and I was there for a couple of years. And from there, I transferred to Penn State University and I was at the Middletown campus. My office overlooked Three Mile Island. I was there for sixteen years, I believe. I did teach up at State College one semester. Then, for family reasons, I left Penn State. I was tenured and everything but I left Penn 14 State and came to UMASS Dartmouth here for family reasons, health reasons. And I did ten years over here. At that point in time, I retired from UMASS but, in the meantime, had picked up some work for the University of South Pacific at Fiji. So, I worked off and on during a five-year period in the year 2000 over there. JC: Okay. HG: Currently, I am volunteering at the National Graduate School of Quality Management here in Falmouth, which is an online type program. I am the director of the alumni program, which they've never had before. So, it's an experiment and it may be a futile activity but I'm giving it the best go I can give it as a Norwich guy. I'm not alumni but I'm their director. I'm modelling it after the Norwich Alumni Association. As a matter of fact, I used Norwich's bylaws in modifying to try to make them fit this school's program. So, that's where I am to this moment and I don't know how much longer that'll last. I've been doing it for a couple years now and probably give it another, 2017 may be my last year of doing that. Depends upon what my success is this year. JC: Well, you've had a lot of schooling. How did your training at Norwich prepare you for life, specifically? HG: Very well. Very well. In retrospect, I wouldn't have it any other way. It taught me to roll with the punches. You can't have everything your way all the time. To get along, you've got to go along and cooperate and you graduate. I think, probably, the teamwork idea was imbedded, not so much in a pointed way but in an overall way of existing and finishing up your, what you started. We had to work with other people. I started out as an individual and I think I came out as a person who understood that to get along in this world, you're going to have to work with other people and depend upon other people. Now, I probably, even to this day, I'm a volunteer and I know that I have, I have no resources. I have no budget. I don't have even office space, so to speak, except out of the house. Working with some adult people over here and I know that I depend upon them for everything I get done and I acknowledge that very, very fully to the best extent I can. Because I know that their cooperation, my success depends upon them. Without them, I'll die on the vine. I think Norwich has taught me that concept. Oh! I think I didn't mention to you. You probably were aware of this. I created, for the bicentennial, a puzzle. JC: Yes! You did. HG: You're aware of that? So, I put that together. JC: Mm hmm. 15 HG: And, you know, the thing is, the way that transpired, nobody seemed to want me to do it. Sometimes, that rubs me the wrong way. So, I says, "I don't care if you don't want me to do it. I'm going to do it anyway!" JC: Yeah. HG: So, I did it and quite amazed at how it turned out! There's a gentleman next door who's a graphic artist and he's good on the computer. That's what he does for a living. I got the university photographer, they let me access the photographs. I picked and chose some photographs, brought them over to Sean. I said, "Sean, what can you do for me?" He says, "Let me see those." So, we looked. He says, "I'll have something for you tomorrow." He brought over the thing. "What do you think of that?" Well, we made some adjustments and so forth. My wife has a friend who does puzzles and she brought over to our house a wooden puzzle that she had bought for the Lilly family, the big drug people here in Falmouth, a lot of property and donor, a very big benefactor. I said, "Maybe we could have a wooden puzzle for what I've created for Norwich." So, I contacted a guy in Connecticut and he says, "Yeah. If you're willing to pay the price, I can make that for you. No problem." So, I says, "Okay. Let's go with that." I've even gone down there and I've even worked the puzzle thing myself. My wife and I watched him make, it's an example of his work. Got that done. Made a contact overseas. Got somebody to stamp out those puzzles. I bought four dozen of them. Gave them to the school and said, "Use them at will." Then, I gave Sullivan, no, I gave Schneider a wooden one and I think he turned it over to the, the wooden one I gave him because I didn't want it. What was it going to do with me? So, I gave to him and he put it in the museum, I think. JC: It's at the museum. HG: It was a labor of love. That's all. I just did it because I didn't find the support that I thought I might have gotten from the bicentennial committee but they had bigger items on their agenda. This was not going to fit into the program, I guess. And then, I was involved, at one time, with a committee on postage stamps and I had done a lot of work and I was really disappointed. I got mixed messages from U.S. Postal Service as to whether the images that I submitted weren't, "They're fine. We're going to submit them for postmaster consideration." Then, I get a message from somebody else on the committee saying, "No. We're not." And you can't reach anybody on that committee because they're, you just don't have any contact information for them except maybe names. But now I understand that they did release, or rerelease of the Alden Partridge stamp for the ROTC commemorative. They said that now Schneider's got himself behind the request for a Norwich postcard set which is what they usually do. I think if they don't do something for Norwich for the bicentennial, there's got to be something wrong in Washington. I hope they follow through. I sort of dropped out of the picture because it's now gone beyond my involvement. But I filed all the paperwork and everything else necessary for that. Hopefully, we'll see something come to pass. 16 JC: Hopefully so. HG: Yeah. I was told that one the things, they said, "Well, you've got to get the postmaster in Northfield involved. And I said, "Well, I'm not in a position to do that. You're right there in town." The bicentennial committee itself could just go to the postmaster and say, "We want to issue the stamp." And if he supports it, I guess, or postcards, they don't, the stamps are a little more dicey to get through. But the postcards are pretty easy to do, I guess. So, maybe, we'll see what happens. I don't know. I've lost touch with that group. The last I heard was that they upgraded the applications or something by getting Schneider's support and some other people supporting it too. That'll be good. JC: Yeah. Hopefully, that'll work out. HG: Yeah. JC: Well, that's about your involvement with Norwich. HG: Mm hmm. JC: How do you think your professional life would have been different had you not been a Norwich graduate? HG: Oh, dear. Tremendously different because Norwich set me on a military career. It set me up for a military lifestyle, in a way, although I didn't go there with that idea at all nor did I graduate with that but it just sort of grew on you. I can recall, being a reservist, I would say, "Well, maybe I'll just stop going. I'll just give up." One year led to another year and before I knew it I had thirty years and six months and I was boarded out. I got considered for general officer and I didn't make it. I understood why. My competitor, I knew who that person was and a lot of stuff on his chest that I, ribbons on his chest that I didn't have and I figured he was more entitled to it or earned it more than I did. He had combat time. I didn't have any combat time at all. I was in a war zone, Korean War, but that was over practically. So, I think Norwich set me up for that whole aspect of my life. The academic part of it came about, my industrial area was focused on my engineering experience and math and science and so forth. And then, my academic life, all the way from doing some consulting work and so forth and having the idea of a continuous learning environment. I just kept on going to school, both militarily and civilian-wise. I took many, many a correspondence program. I went to Fort Leavenworth to the Command and General Staff School. I taught Command and General Staff School. I taught at the Army War College in Carlisle, both as a military faculty member and as an academic Penn State, because we had a program with them. JC: Right. 17 HG: You know, I'm amazed at the kinds of things I got involved in and I attribute it all to Norwich. If I had gone to URI like I wanted to heavens knows what I would have become, if I ever graduated. Or if I'd gone on to Georgia Tech, I might have failed out! Who knows? Norwich kept me going. I did hit the dean's list a couple times while at Norwich but I was no stellar student. Sullivan and I share one common thread. We both were privates for four years. JC: Yep. HG: And, you know, I'm not proud of that but we survived. He did very well militarily, obviously. Much better than I did! He got, what, four stars. I got the eagle but, nevertheless, I think that Norwich did us both very well. JC: I think so too. Has being a Norwich graduate opened doors for you that might not have been opened otherwise? HG: I thought, militarily, yes. Yeah. I can clearly recall early on in my career, when I was living up in North Andover. I was in the Reserve unit in Boston. The fellow that was in command of that unit, he loved Norwich guys. So, I got signed to his unit. Having somebody who was favorably disposed to where you're from certainly is helpful in the image that you are going to create if you live up to the person's perception of the school. JC: Right. HG: And I did very well. So, I think that opened me up for captain and major level of consideration. From then on, it was, an interesting little thing was when I worked for Penn State, I had a student by the name of Emmett Page. He was one of the Army War College students that were taking the master's program at Penn State. I was a faculty member, teaching him a course and I was over at the graduate program over there, teaching in their program, the military. Came time for me to have an assignment, as a colonel. Guess who I ended up being assigned to? JC: Emmett Page? HG: General Page. Laughs. He was in charge of the electronic research and development command in Adelphi, Maryland. I was his assistant. JC: Oh. Wow. HG: So, I got an assistant commander position with him as a colonel. I'd go down there and he'd say, "Harold," because I was in quality, he says, "I got some contracts out there. I want you to go to these contractors and see what they're doing and jack them up if they need jacking up." Laughs.) I had a great relationship with Emmett. I followed up with him a little bit afterwards. He was 18 my former student, was now my boss. I was grading him and now he was grading me! It's a small world. JC: Yes. It is! HG: Another interesting situation too was, we're in Japan, my wife and I together, concurrent travel. We'd had a major social event in Tokyo. I don't know what level it was, battalion, it wasn't a battalion party. It had to be higher up than that, maybe a Sullivan Theater type thing. Anyway, we went to it and who do we run in to? Colonel Burkle. Burkle was on campus at the time and his greeting to me and my wife when we got together, "Lieutenant Gilmore, your brass is shiny." Laughs. I says, "You can thank Mrs. Gilmore for that." See, most of my fun happened after I got out of Norwich. Yeah, Colonel Burkle. I think he was a colonel at the time. "Your brass is shiny." I said, "Yep. Thank Mrs. Gilmore for that." Oh, dear. I could go on and on and on, I guess. Been a long time. JC: Mm hmm. Do you think Norwich graduates have a special bond that other people don't? HG: Oh! Definitely! Definitely! Oh, yes. I see it in my children who graduated from Penn State. There's nothing like, these online programs, there's no bonding at all! JC: Right. HG: It's like dealing with particles in the air, dust particles, but Norwich, that experience there puts you into close proximity with other people. It served me so well. Al Gardner, I talked with on the phone all the time. Up until Garry Moushegian's demise, he died up in Norwood, MA, with him all the time. Fred Maier, Jack Gillis passed away. My roommate, Bartlett, Jack Gillis, Garry Mousehegian, they all died within a matter of months of each other. I lost all my, so now there's just Fred left and Al Gardner. So, I've got two very close friends. Other people I know but not quite as, as I said, we socially went everywhere with each other, cruises and all that stuff, you know. Families knew each other. Kids knew each other and stuff of that nature. So, yes. Norwich does create a separate, a special relationship, I think, amongst us graduates. JC: Mm hmm. Um, let me see. We've already answered that question. HG: Mm hmm. JC: Um, you've just answered that question. What advice would you give a rook about how to survive and thrive at Norwich? HG: Go with the flow. Join the program full heartedly. Don't fight it. Join it. And see what you can do to excel in it. 19 JC: Mm hmm. HG: I probably chose, I wouldn't say the opposite path but I resisted. I resisted the program and suffered for it, without getting any rank and you don't get ahead in the world that way. You're going to participate in the program and probably if you can't do that full heartedly, you might do better elsewhere. It's not a place for everybody, the military part of it anyway, the Corp. Now that Norwich has a civilian component, you know, Norwich is a nice school and it's a nice environment and Vermont's a pleasant place to enjoy the winter months and so forth. Can't complain about the environment. If you like a rural environment, it's fine. And I grew up in a rural environment so I didn't really rail at that sort of thing. Although, I sent my granddaughter up there for a campus visit and she came back, "Gramp, the place is not for me." She says, "I'm going to be a minority." I said, "What do you mean?" She says, "Well, I'm not going to join the Corp. I'm going to be a civilian. Right now, I detect that they're a minority up there." JC: Mm hmm. HG: I says, "Well, it's a wise maneuver not to go there. You've got to be happy where you are to do the best you can do." My advice to a rook is you've got to decide whether you're going to be happy in this environment or not. If you are, you'll do well. If not, you're not going to do as well. You might get through, but you won't be the success that you could be maybe someplace else. I have two grandsons. I've got three grandsons but two older ones. I tried to talk them into going to Norwich. Mother was not military-oriented and things were not so, we were at war. We've been at war for so long they don't know what it's like to be without it but she didn't think that was the thing to do. I do have a grandson here locally but he's going to Mass Maritime Academy. JC: Oh. Okay. HG: So, he's quasi-military, in a way. I think that he'll finish that program up in two or three years. He didn't want to go to Norwich either. I don't know why. I don't think he gave it a chance, because he likes to ski. He's an outdoors boy. He would do well. He's got the military bearing and so forth, but he chose the Maritime as a place to go. He did hear that employment opportunities were greatest at Mass Maritime and they are. You graduate from that place, you get a job. JC: Mm hmm. HG: If you've got anything going for you at all. Norwich used to be able to say, "You're going to get a commission." But that's not true anymore either. JC: No. It's not. 20 HG: The place is not going to sell itself with providing a vocation after you're through. Where this place practically does. So, he was encouraged to go. It's local and so forth. JC: Yeah. So, you didn't have any relatives that attended Norwich? HG: Hmm? JC: You didn't have any relatives that attended Norwich? HG: No. I didn't. I don't have anybody that went to Norwich. No. None of them. JC: Well, is there anything else? HG: No. By golly, we've had quite an enjoyable interview. I've had some fun talking to you. I can't think of much more. JC: Well, I thank you very much. HG: I enjoyed it. Thank you, too. End of recording.

Issue 51.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1992. ; for religious Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MAY-JUNE 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 3 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis Universio,., by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048. Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the "Canonical Counsel" department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ 5001 Eastern Avenue ¯ P.O. Box 29260 V~;ashington, D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Senti address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, anti additional offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5.00 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15.00 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28.00 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for subscription information and mailing costs. ©1992 Review for Religious for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe David J. Hassel SJ Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Se~in Sammon FMS Wendy Wright PhD Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MAY/JUNE 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 3 contents life choices 326 A Monastic Way in the World Theresa Mancuso tells of the monasticism she has found herself continuing to live now for ten years in New York City, ever since she left her monastery in upstate New York. 337 I Leap Back Over the Wall Corey S. Van Kuren OFMCap offers reflections on his experience of reentering a religious community. 341 Why We Stay Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ presents a personal witness to a lasting commitment to the religious vocation. 347 When a Sister or Brother Leaves Melannie Svoboda SND offers personal reflections on the departure from religious life of a lifelong friend. transitions 356 The Integral Sabbatical Brian B. McClorry SJ blends the traditional sabbatical elements of coursework and reading with time in a remote wilderness and discovers the riches of the ordinary. 373 Using Ignatian Discernment Philip L. Boroughs SJ applies the Ignatian principles for discernment to a person in a time of transition. scripture and spiritual life 388 A Woman's Compassionate and Discerning Heart Mary Lou Cranston CND examines the compassionate heart of the. woman in 1 Kings 3 as a model for understanding discernment and its relationship to religious obedience and governance. 397 Peter's Characterization in Luke-Acts Lola M. Wells proposes that a unified reading of Luke-Acts provides a valuable portrait of individual discipleship. 3 2 2 Review for Religious 403 Petitionary Prayer in a Biblical Perspective John H. Zupez SJ reflects on the constant value of petitionary prayer especially through a more mature way of entering into our Scriptures. 408 Hasidism, Creation, and the Psalms Joseph Fichtner OSC, guided by the Hasidic tradition, finds in the Psalms an awe-filled creation spirituality alert to the Creator's presence and power. devotional life 417 Marian Spirituality and Apparitions Walter T. Brennan OSM suggests that the proliferation of Marian apparitions leaves us living in a gray area of pastoral judgment and practice, but paradoxically gray is full of color. 424 The Mirror Image in Clare of Assisi Sister Karen Karper develops how Clare presents Christ as the mirror of one's own deepest identity and its apostolic implications. charism and mission 432 Reclaiming Competence Theresa M. Monroe RSCJ indicates that some careful limits and boundaries would protect the creativity our times demand of religious institutes. 453 Restructuring William F. Hogan CSC points out that restructuring in religious congregations must balance the twofold need to maintain institutional essentials and to adapt to the challenges of the mission. 458 reflection Why Claude la Colombi~re? John A. McGrail SJ uses the canonization of Claude la Colombi~re to consider the roots and contemporary value of devotion to the Sacred Heart. departments 324 Prisms 461 Canonical Counsel: Voluntary Exclaustration 469 Book Reviews May-j~une 1992 323 prisms Pope John Paul II seems to be setting a record in saint making. In his various missionary travels, he frequently celebrates the ritual of beatification or can-onization of a woman or man recognized for holiness by the local people. Some are critical of this making of saints. "Out of step with the times," they say. Others just wonder why. We human beings need our heroes and heroines. The stories of women and men who have captured our minds and hearts because of their bravery, their dedicated service, their contribution to a more humane world have been told in every culture and in every age. The names change, the circumstances differ, but the inspiration for human living remains the same. We all seem to be searching for a glimpse or two of heroism not too far from home. Yet some fear or some reluctance appears to stifle, early on, our own desire for the heroic. Various factors may contribute to this reluc-tance. Perhaps pop psychology, too readily imbibed as Gospel, has made us too content with being the ordinary persons we are, too willing to be coddled into a generic self-esteem. Or when heroes are proposed, a mean spirit in us and in our culture may drive us to search out ways to cut these people back down to ordinary size . . . or less. Maybe such behavior flows from a poorly idealized pro-letarian spirit which is a communist residue in us all. Often it seems that heroes or heroines are quickly raised up and 324 Review fbr Relig4ous just as quickly forgotten. Perhaps our enthusiasm for their exam-ple and their deeds lasts no longer than the music or video of the moment. Then, too, we probably fear the disappointment of the hero or heroine letting us down; we surely fear the cost of hero-ism for ourselves. Despite such stifling factors or because of them, our need for inspiring heroism to permeate our everyday world in the living example of contemporary women and men remains. The vari-ous spiritual traditions in the church have been first enfleshed in the lives of women and men before they came to be written down as programs for the following of Christ. Life and ministry shone out in persons with names and faces before any rule or constitu-tions were formulated. There comes a time in every spirituality when structures or formulas or written theological treatises are essential if it is to become a heritage or tradition within the church community. A common way that particular spiritualities have been institutionalized has been through the foundation of religious congregations. Religious life does not exist as a generic reality, but only in particular embodiments, each with its own approved rule of life, an organized spiritual tradition. A religious rule of life, then, not only provides for the identity of a particular reli-gious family as a legitimate form of following Christ, but also ¯ brings that family's prophetic voice to the harmonies and coun-terpoints of the church on earth. The danger of any heritage arises when it becomes a tomb or sculpted sarcophagus, beautiful in its form, but containing disconnected bones devoid of breath. Only heroes and heroines make spiritualities live. Can people live heroic lives in an unheroic age? The answer obviously lies with us. No matter what our spirituality or her-itage may be, the people who embody it for us retain an impor-tance beyond a brilliant theoretical study of a particular charism or some wonderfully fashioned new constitutions. Saints, both old and new, hold out to us the promise that this kind of a fol-lowing of Christ is humanly possible. Requiring a little heroism, perhaps, but humanly possible. Our church and our world need heroes and heroines. Anyone of us who is serious about the spiritual heritage we try to live rec-ognizes the call within it to be heroic. To paraphrase Chesterton, it is not so much that heroism has been tried in our day and found wanting; rather, today we try so little to be heroic. .David L. Fleming SJ May-3~une 1992 325 life choices THERESA MANCUSO A Monastic Way in the World Into the darkness of a cold winter's night, I peer quietly from my third-floor window, reflective after the day's work. Gathering up my briefcase and tightening my gray woolen scarf close about my face, I leave the office and head up Lafayette Street towards the "M" train. This is the evening part of my daily routine, the trip home from work. Upstate far away the semantron sounds over halcyon hills of white birch. Monks and nuns make ready to answer the call of the monastery bell which will soon follow the hol-low rhythm of the semantron. Donning black choir robes, they will take their places for Vespers. Ancient chants will blend harmoniously with the whistling mountain wind as it purrs along the windows of the monastery church. Still living my self-imposed exile of a decade, I walk through the darkening streets of lower Manhattan as falling snow shimmers softly about the dim street lights. I hear down-town church bells chiming six o'clock. The old nostalgia rises as I hustle down broken concrete steps into.the cold, damp tunnel, far from the candlelight kingdom of my monastery home. The "M" train screeches into the sta-tion, jamming to a stop along the drab platform. Doors fling open and I rush to board, jostled by the crowd, my fellow travelers, all scrambling for a seat. Everything monastic, everything I love, is far away and long removed, Theresa Mancuso has been a member of an active religious order and of.a monastic community. She has published on wide-ranging topics 'including religious education, elder abuse, and criminal probation. She lives at 448 Seventh Avenue; Brooklyn, New York 11215. 326 Review for Religious but I carry it still in my heart. Here in the streets of the city or deep beneath them hurling through subterranean corridors on hard cold rails of steel, I ponder the Desert Fathers and the vows I made years ago while walking in their pathways. Every day, five days out of seven, I begin and end my travels at Union Street station in the underside of Park Slope, Brooklyn. It is a poor neighborhood unreclaimed by urban renewal. Trash and waste clutter its curbs and sidewalks, a place where immigrants cling tena-ciously to the fringes of hope that carried them from their homes in Ecuador, Nicaragua, Puerto Rico, parts of Asia, Africa, and Eastern Europe. They work hard here and live hard, struggling to make it on Union Street. These are my neigh-bors and I am theirs. Amid the drama of daily life unfolding here with its stark reality calling me toward a new wisdom, I park my car and climb down the subway steps to board the train to and from Manhattan. Every morning and every evening my meditation begins and ends here, my earnest prayer rising from the cold and lonely street. The crowded train on weekday mornings teaches me much of patience and endurance. Pushing, shoving, sweating, shivering, they board, riders of this underground iron horse, travel-weary as they squeeze into place. Once settled, the subway people sink into watchful silence, hardly raising their eyes yet ever on guard. Destinies mingle here in this place where the sun does not shine and danger is always just a breath away. Muggings and murder are familiar specters in the New York City subway. The security of the monastery is a dream-like state, a fading unfamiliar mem-ory. There is no security here. Here one rides in the arms of Divine Providence, wrapped in total abandonment under the pro-tection of the Mother of God. There are no promises of personal safety in the darkness of this daily voyage underneath the city. I often look about and see prayer happening on the faces of many fellow travelers. Some'read Scripture, openly holding a small Bible on their laps; some say the rosary, while others sit straight with hands folded in the perfect posture of meditation. How true ring the words that rise in my heart as the train rushes forward, "Holy God, Holy Mighty One, Holy Immortal One, have mercy on us." I often look about and see prayer happening on the faces of many fellow travelers. May-.~une 1992 327 Mancuso ¯ A Monastic V~ay in the IVorld Dirt and discomfort surround me as I call upon the assistance of the Holy Spirit to quiet my soul and prepare my mind to reflect more deeply on that which alone is nec.es~ary. In this, the most unlikely of places, I have learned to make my daily prayer. Well I remember the daily formula used in my earliest experience of religious life, when the superior commenced the community's prayer time with the words: "Let us place ourselves in the pres-ence of God and ask the assistance of the H?ly Spirit to make our meditation well." These words speak themselves in my mind as the subway train runs along the track. The harsh screech of iron wheels blazing along the curved track under the East River assaults my ears as my mind focuses on interior prayer. My eyes meet a kaleidoscope of society, fellow travelers scurrying like ants on their way to anyplace but here. They are part of the collage of prayer that rises in my heart. Sometimes I wrestle with truths of the spiritual life learned in the safe, secure society of robed monks and nuns and I try to apply those truths to today's society, neither safe nor secure. What is monasticism if not the road to repentance? And what is this daily voyage in the belly of the earth if not a journey of repentance? I study my companions .along t_fie way, for they will often teach me without saying a word. Busines~ men and women dressed in smart somber suits, their briefcases clutched with pro-found importance--their presence awakens me to the cries of sec-ular society. I watch students and tourists with backpacks loaded on their shoulders, leftover hippies with long hair tied in greasy ponytails. I observe ill-clad .teenagers late for school or playing hookey, perhaps, instead. The sea of humanity that ebbs and flows around me leads me deeper into contemplation of the Creator who knows them all, each by name, who reads the secrets of their hearts and hears their every longing. My fellow riders are of every race, religion, color, size, and descriptign. Together we hurl through tl~is iron tube deep in the belly of darkness. The homeless are here, too, dreary and desolate, fighting a daily battle with hunger, told, and desperation. They live on the subway trains or ride them until they are evicted, for here at least there is some warmth and shelter from the outdoor elements. Coffee cups are freqtiently extended in their dirty hands under hungry, sad, defeated eyes. What can they not teach me of poverty and penance? Indeed, I am embarrassed at the luxuries I knew in the monastery while they, the poor and dispossessed, not 328 Review for Religiog~ by vow but by reality, have perhaps not for one instant in a life-time known real comfort, security, or personal safety. They force me to reexamine everything I once took for granted. I count their sufferings in vacant eyes and in the biting fatigue on faces worn and haggard. They call me to deeper repentance without saying a single word, me who have enjoyed so much of what they lack. Outside the protection and security of the religious life, outside the shelter of community, I have come to new terms with reality, to understand at last what it really means to have no one and nothing but God. Sometimes the subway poor wander through the train speak-ing loudly, interrupting our smug self-centered silence. We are reading, we are thinking, we are silent; they are begging. They ask for change or a dollar perhaps if they feel lucky. But straphanger charity is always unpredictable. Accursed with misfortune, they ride side by side with the powerful and privileged while I, look-ing from one to the other, remember that poverty has many faces. I see it there, poverty, even among the rich, poverty of spirit and of morals, poverty of faith, bankruptcy of the soul. My heart is forced to consider the meaning of poverty in vows I took so long ago and the poverty I practice today, for after all some kind of poverty is essential to the monastic life. But everything is differ-ent now; I understand for the first time in my life the struggle for survival others must face. When I offer one of them the small and meager gift of a dollar or a dime, I know that I am here not for the purpose of teaching them but in order that I may learn. So different from the monastery classroom, this too is an education of the heart. When I left the monastery ten years ago, I fully expected to abandon forever the life I had known, for twenty-five years, the religious life. I thought I was headed for secular society, for free-dom and promise in a world without restrictions and restraints, away from the rigors of community life with all its pain and heartache. I came to New York City at the recommendation of the metropolitan. But, once here, I soon realized that I had only taken the nun out of the monastery, not out of me. All my experiments with other lifestyles served to teach me that monastic life was rooted far deeper and more intensely in my heart than I had ever dreamed. My spiritual journey continued 'far from the support of monastery routine, far from the view of the monastery community. May-.~une 1992 329 Mancuso ¯ ~1 Monastic Way in the World Indeed I found myself living alone the same monastic life I lived in the community. All I had read in years gone by concerning the Camaldolese in the West and ideorhythmic monks in the East began to make great sense to me. Could I survive spiritually as a monastic living in the world? I sought a spiritual teacher and could not find one. Then I found one, strange and unexpected, in New York City; not a per-son, but a phenomenon: this daily ride on hard cold rails of steel. The New York Subway System, harsher than the sternest spiritual father, pulled me from the gutter of despair in the dismal winter of 1981. It dragged me down the cold dark tunnel of despon-dency and forced me to choose between life and death. There I was forced to cling to God with all my might lest I fall from the subway platform by my own step and crash on the tracks below in the path of the roaring train. Ten years have healed that broken-ness. A new hunger awakened within me. A new spiritual jour-ney began as I recommited myself to the monastic way. My search for monasticism in the city led me to understand that what I needed was monasticism of the heart. I knew I could not go back before I grew up, and perhaps never. What I needed more than ever before in my life was an authentic spirituality, a genuine monasticism, for now I was a nun without a monastery, alone in a world I did not know or understand. My new cloister was the streets of the city; my new obedience, an obedience to reality and the obligations of survival. The cold, hard teacher I had found was the subway itself---with no name, no face, and no heart and demanding of me complete abandonment and total surrender to God. It spoke to me as surely as any spiritual teacher I have ever known. It spoke because my whole being was listening. I was searching with all my heart. That is what great spiritual longing does; it opens every fiber .of one's being. Then one can truly hear. At last. One listens best when no more escapes are possible. Every day, morning and evening, I found myself grappling with the mysteries of faith and reality, struggling to discern the presence of God in the secular world. The milieu of faith I had known in religious life and took so much for granted was far behind me now. I had to create one in myself if I was to retain a spiritual focus in my life. In the personless hands of this tutelage, there was no protection, no one to turn to, no arms to hold me faint with fatigue. Fear loomed up over the darkness of my soul like fog on the docks of South Street Seaport. In the beginning I 330 Review far Religiaus was angry, depressed and bitter. Confusion reigned where once I thought I knew my purposes. Conflict raged. Gradually, from daily meditation and interior prayer deep in the darkness of the earth as I traveled the subway system, there came the dawn of a soft, strong light which began to illumine the darkness of my spirit. I remembered words spo-ken to me long ago by my father when I was just a little girl: "There is no night so dark that you cannot reach out and take the hand of God." Slowly I regained perspective on the original purpose of my life, my spiritual journey. Is there, I wondered, searching my heart, the possibility of being an authentic monastic living in the world? And if there is, what shall it ask of me and how shall I answer? When the doors we have passed through are closed and locked behind us and those we have loved no longer speak our name, then indeed we must come to the truth or we shall surely perish. And if the truth should call us on alone, girded only with the armor of faith, with no assurances and no compan-ions to stave off the terror of the night, when there is no road back, we must carve our own road forward. When that which we have loved the most is forever lost to us, we must build a new tabernacle in the desert of the heart. This is the vocation of the monk or nun in the world. To bring to birth in the solitude of society an authentic monasticism of the heart, alone except for God and whatever he provides. Every morning I exit the train at Chambers Street and make my way up the subway steps. The stench of urine greets me, the first smell I perceive each day in downtown New York. I who love the warm richness of burning incense and the leaping flame of candlelight, I am thrust into this daily reminder of what is behind and what lies before me: the smell of the street and its treachery, the darkness of places where candles never flicker. I am Moses in the desert, forty years of wandering across the wasteland of Manhattan. Today I pass two Hasidim studying a subway map just outside the entrance of the train. One is bent with age, his white beard flowing over the collar of a shiny black coat. The other is young, unmarried, tall and blond with side curls fluffing out from under his black yarmulka and felt hat. They do not acknowledge me, a goy, though I pass within inches of their out- 'There is no night so dark that you cannot reach out and take the hand of God." May-~t~une 1992 331 Mancuso ¯ A Monastic Way in the World spread map. On Centre Street a Chinese peddler opens a stall, displaying his wares on two small sidewalk tables set by the curb. He and his wife sell woolen caps, scarves, sweatshirts, and pants. Their breaths steam like smoke in the windy street. Here on the next corner the Italian sausage man has been standing for several hours beside his concession wagon. Smells of sausage and sauerkraut overwhelm me as I pass, for the day is very young. I walk behind two black lawyers dressed in gray three-piece suits. They are deeply engaged in conversation with a white woman, also an attorney. She wears herself proud, this articulate lady; achievement and prominence like her gold earrings proclaim her success in a man's world. They head toward the courthouse on Centre Street carrying their serious leather briefcases with an air of profound importance. I think about pride and power and humil-ity and powerlessness. I think about the righteousness of law. A thin young man, alone and smiling, dressed in woman's clothing, sits on the bench at Thomas Paine Park, quietly hum-ming to himself. He is there every day, all day. Across the street a tall Hispanic man, handsome in his faded blue jeans and tan hooded sweatshirt, keeps his post with hand outstretched. He entertains passersby, juggling several coffee cups and telling humorous stories. Is he a fool for Christ's sake, or has he only learned to play the fool in hope of an extra quarter in his cup? When the morning crowd has passed and rush hour is over, he slumps onto a park bench and does crossword puzzles until later in the day when he will resume his trade, the daily round of beg-ging. I walk on toward Lafayette and Leonard Street. A homeless woman pushes a grocery-store cart which contains all her earthly possessions. She is wrapped in layers of rags. Near the corner of Worth Street, I notice the old cab driver, an Irishman with shin-ing blue eyes and stubbly beard. He is retired now to a life of penury, another beggar on the streets of the city. He sits on the park bench combing white disheveled hair just as he did yester-day, just as he will do tomorrow. What monk weaving baskets in the desert or writing music in a modern monastery knows greater mortification or penance than he? Soon he will change his wet socks no matter how cold it is. In the rain, in the sleet, in the snow, or in the sun I see him every day, his stack of reclaimed newspapers beside him. I wonder if he ever thinks of God, or must he always worry about his daily bread? I continue down Centre Street and lift my eyes to read words 332 Review for Religious inscribed high on the courthouse faCade: "The true administration of justice is the firmest pillar of good government." I think a lot about justice. Justice, mercy, and charity. Righteousness and law. I think about the government of our country, the government of the church and that of monastic life. I wonder about politics in places where politics should have no place, the house of God. I wonder if the hand of justice can ever reach beyond the bound-aries of political alliances, those in the world and those in the church. Does the true administration of justice happen anywhere, I wonder, and if so, when and where? Who renders justice in real-ity? Is the government of the church and that of monasteries in particular built on true justice and charity, or is it linked to the power of a few who have pleased their superiors and risen to high places? Who are the recipients of justice? And I, when shall I learn to be just? When shall I have the courage for justice and charity? Crossing the street before the light changes, I ponder the plight of those for whom justice never happens and charity is but a word, those in the world and those in the church. Now I head toward the large marble building at the corner of Lafayette and Leonard Street. Its dark charcoal .walls shine in the morning sun. It is here on the third floor that I work in the New York City Department of Probation housed in the Family Court Building. It is time now to concern myself with matters of crim-inal justice: domestic violence, restitution, probationer miscon-duct, probationer drug tests. My tasks are writing and analysis. I lay aside my morning reflections and commit myself to the day's work. It, too, has something to teach me. In the monastery I baked cheesecakes and bread, I built cabinets and furniture, grew vegetables and cooked for the community. I tended guests and prepared the hospitality we offered to strangers. Did that work dif-fer so much from the work I do today? Was it more purifying to my soul or more pleasing to God than these hours before the computer researching and writing about criminal justice? Who can say that one is somehow more pleasing to God than another? Is it not the heart that makes the difference?. Everywhere there is something to learn. Often have I looked into the eyes of a pro-bationer, understanding that we are all on probation in this world, all of us facing the opportunity to change our lives or not, and the consequences thereof. Nothing, it seems, is incapable of teaching us if we pay attention with our hearts. This is the way it is, five days a week, every week of the year. May-.~une 1992 333 Mancuso ¯ A Monastic Vday in the IVorM All about me are the signs God places in my path calling me back to himself over and over again. I gather up the fragments of the day, bits and pieces of reality, signposts and fellow travelers I have met along my way. I take them to my heart, where like candles they illumine the darkness of my soul. I pray for them as I pon-der what they have told me without speaking. I am jostled into awareness by the touch of their reality on my own. In seventeenth-century France a man named Vincent, now called St. Vincent de Paul in the Roman Catholic Church and considered by Western Christianity to be the universal father of charity, said to his first sisters--those early pioneer sisters in social service, for nuns until that time were always cloistered in monas-teries--" Your cloister will be the streets of the city and your chapel the parish church." On the streets of New York and beneath them, I have entered a new and different cloister, a spiritual one. It is not an enclo-sure; indeed, it is very open. Open to reality. Open to grace. The parish church is indeed my chapel. There in the sacred hours of Vespers and Divine Liturgy I come to understand what Vincent de Paul was talking about. It is a phenomenon of the last decades that numerous sisters, brothers, monks, nuns, and priests have left the enclosure of con-vents and monasteries and ventured forth into the world. For sure, many of them have completely turned to new lifestyles, abandoning the old. Some have married, others have entered paths altogether removed from that on which they first set their course. I am among another group, that of monks and nuns liv-ing alone in the world and striving to continue the monastic jour-ney started in community. Some may say that monks and nuns in the world cannot be monks or nuns at all. Perhaps so. Perhaps not. If monasticism is repentance and conversion of heart, surely anyone with goodwill who sets out on the path of repentance and conversion of heart is truly a monk, truly a nun. If monasticism is the search for truth and harmony in the universe, a search for God hidden beneath all the layers of reality that cover everything and everybody, then those who search are truly monks and truly nuns. If the habit does not make the monk and the essence of monasticism is seeking God above all things and striving to live the spiritual life with all one's being, then those who commit to this sacred journey--whether alone or in community, dressed in 334 Review for Religious religious attire or secular garb, recognized or not recognized by official ecclesiastical structures--are truly authentic monks and nuns. The riason of the choir is not suitable for the street, but the true choir robe of the heart is purity of intention, single-mindedness in faith, humility before God, ation. One need not live in a monastery to wear this authentic spiritual robe, and thus clothed on the inside of one's being, one is truly a monk, truly a nun. Yes, it is frightening to ~tand on the edge of the desert and know that absolutely there is no other way to pass. It is hard to go naked into the nigh.t of the spirit with no comforts, no road maps, no spiritual father or mother, no companions for sup-port or sustenance. Alone. This stripping, however, of everything we mistake for safety and security is the reality that makes us true monks and true nuns in company with those who have gone before us, the Desert Fathers of antiquity. I do not wish to compare one form of monastic life with and love for his cre- The true choir robe of the heart is purity of intention, single-mindedness in faith, humility before God, and love for his creation. another. I do not wish to contrast the merits of living in com-munity and living in the world. Rather, what I wish to ponder is the fact of the spiritual journey, the reality of the spiritual searcher whereve~ he or she may be. This inner journey never ends though everything may change. If we know that, whatever may have gone before us and whatever yet may come, there is no path for us but through the desert, no cloak for us but the mercy of God, no pos-ture but humility and repentance before his face, then we have sufficient knowledge to continue on the path. He will provide all that is needed. If we find ourselves aware that we have no road map, no comfort station, no companion to lighten our burden and cheer us along, how shall we find our way? Will fear and loneliness defeat us? Having lost or abandoned everything, the soul stands naked and empty in the face of its Creator. This is the moment of truth. Accepting our essential nakedness and littleness, we take our emptiness back to God. Kenosis. The outpouring, the emptying of our hearts. Everything we have done and have failed to do. We gather up the fragments of our lives and return them to the Lord. May-.l~une 1992 335 Mancuso ¯ A Monastic Way in the World Holy wisdom teaches us that everything lost in time will be recov-ered in eternity. Our task is but to seek the Master who calls us to the feast. Contemplating the mercy and terrible judgment of God, how shall we stand? Only in abandonment and complete surren-der, with no excuses and no demands except to pray: "Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we for-give those who trespass against us." When all the rest is taken from us or when we, like foolish children, have ourselves run from our Father's house, have nothing, we may yet have every-thing, for only faith, hope, and love remain, "and the greatest of these is love." I wonder as I wander the streets and subways of New York if the monastery is not really everywhere and monasticism everyone's journey. Over a Garden-Wall at Bambous Mission Ile Maurice Can He be jealous that I hear the music of men's loves swirling whirling over garden-walls dancing through the moonlit trees around, swirling whirling once again and around and out, now carried on the evening breeze mingling with the rustling grass and palms and shyly whispering leaves, now ebbing flowing on the turning tide of salty scented ocean air? Can He be jealous? of me? of them ? Or does He too plainly see and hear the kernel of man's pain and loss and disillusionment they waltz about? And yet He holds me tighter. Cothrai Gogan CSSp 336 Review for Religious COREY S. VAN KUREN I Leap Back Over the Wall tth le 9c5o0n ~Me n° ~ iacf~ d aid ~ni ~y _Cehi rgOh~i~ leeadr s.h ~nr r!eLfl ;c~ o0~ eOr ~eeaV idff' she recounts in classic style what occurred and what she felt as she reentered a world she did not know because of her "hiddenness" in religious life. In the past twenty-five years, many religious have left reli-gious life, and most others have experienced enormous changes in it. Many books and articles have been written about the emo-tional, psychological, and anthropological realities involved in such changes. These writings run the gamut from leaving reli-gious life altogether to changing one's status in a particular com-munity tokeeping the same status in another community with a different history, ministry, charism, or geographic center. Lawrence Rywalt CP, in the September/October 1991 issue of Review for Religious, lays out in fine fashion the realities of what goes on with those who are changing their religious life by pass-ing from a "community of origin" to a "receiving community." Throughout his article he uses terms like "a time of adolescence" to describe the mixed emotions one experiences upon entering the unknown. It is somewhat understandable to this reader, as one who is presently going through this process, that these terms are more than somewhat awkward; they may be harmful if per-ceived to be negative. Not only is there a lack of a "clear" canonical process for Corey S. Van Kuren OFMCap is currently in the reentry program of the Capuchin-Franciscan province of St. Mary (New York-New England). His address is St. Michael's Friary; 225 Jerome Street; Brooklyn, New' York 11207. May-~une 1992 337 Van Kuren ¯ I Leap Back Over the Wall The cycle of leaving/reentry can and perhaps should be perceived as a healthy pattern of living. defining this reality of "reentry," but the rarity with which it is perceived and coped with, let alone talked about, makes the use of analogy the only way to discuss it. There are no terms proper to this process, so we who exp.erience it and those who must deal with us are forced to speak in analogy or struggle to invent new ways of speaking about who and what we are. (This is as frightening as was the experience of Monica Baldwin in 1950.) In my own case, the entry/reentry process has happened a couple of times. I first entered the Capuchin Order in 1973 and left in 1981 before ordina-tion. I returned for a short stint and left again. In 1986 I was ordained a diocesan priest and now am in a reen-try program with the same province of Capuchins. I firmly believe that the cycle of leaving/reentry can and per-haps should be perceived as a healthy pattern of living. It is only through the ongoing struggle to find God's will that anyone of us is going to reach sanctity, the goal of any vocation, religious, mar-ried, or single. We need to call the emotions and behaviors they involve by their real names, instead of trying to liken them to any other experience of change. Leaving religious life is no't like divorce, an analogy often heard. Divorce usually happens after prolonged experience of anger, hurt, or at least a clear realization of irrec-or; cilable differences. My own exp~rienc~ and that of others who have talked with me is that we felt, or discerned, that the life we were leading was not what we were then called to, if indeed we ever were called to it. This is not to say that the feelings of loss were not real for us or that we did not miss the people or perhaps even the structures that w~ left behind, but the negativity of such feelings that divorce usually implies was absent. Likewise, to term the process of reentry a time of "adoles-cence" because it might conjure up feelings 6f "anger, despair, fear, chaos, denial, bewilderment, and malaise," as Rywalt sug-gests in his third stage, casts a shadow on the reality of these feel-ings as healthy or as progress or as worthy of an adult. In any event, the expectation of finding such negative feelings is pro- 338 Review for Reli~ous claimed more strongly than any thought of the possibility of feel-ing joy, peace, and a sense of "coming home"--which seems, at least to me, highly possible for those in the reentry process. Just prior to my ordination as a diocesan priest, at a meeting with Bishop Frank Harrison of Syracuse, I revealed to him one fear I had, that I was not sure that I was not called to religious life as I had previously believed and that I might feel compelled to try to reenter religious life in the future. I felt it necessary to speak to him of this feeling before ordination, and must admit that I feared his response might be that I should postpone my ordination until I was sure. Not surprisingly (in looking back and having come to know Bishop Harrison better), his response to me was wise, fatherly, and helpful. In essence, he assured me that this feeling was no reason not to go forward with ordination, pro-vided I was sure that even as a religious my call would include ordained ministry. In addition he laid no claim to knowing what God had in store for him in the future, let alone what the same God had in store for me. The question remains for me: Should it not be possible to change, to move in and through the structures of ministry as we seek God's will, without enduring the analysis of our psycholog-ical motivation, having our behaviors monitored or judgments made about the health or sickness of our actions? It seems to me that as Gospel people we would at least admit to the possibility of a religious motive, the reality of the call. We are too quick to give over to the sciences that which is spiritual, God centered, and not bound by the analysis of science. Is it a bad thing for men and women to constantly try to dis-cern God's will for them? If occasionally this discernment calls for change in structure or movement in or out of structures, need these people be subjected to an analysis of their health, a ques-tioning of their motivations, or must they live with the stigma of being unable to commit? I cannot predict whether my reentry experiment will be sue-cessful in moving me to "profess" again within the Capuchin com-munity. It is my deep hope and desire that it will. However it happens, though, I will neither judge the community nor myself at fault. Nor will I subject myself to questions whether I am mov-ing or not moving through "healthful" stages of development in the process. Prayer, the grace of God through living the Gospel counsels in common, sacramental grace, and meaningful ministry May-June 1992 339 Van Kuren ¯ I Leap Back Over the Wall will be the reality that decides for me and the community if this reentry is God's will. I find that reality comforting and assuring. I do not want to degrade the proper role of the sciences in defining the realities of our life. But as Christians, as ministers, as religious, we cannot give them positions they do not deserve. They must be seen in the proper perspective, and that means integrated with religious, spiritual realities--not taking their place. The leap back over the wall takes as much grace and courage as does the original leap over the wall. That grace and courage comes from relationship with a loving and forgiving God. Religious find this in the lives and faces of brothers and sisters more than in the psychological and scientific analysis of what is healthy or in other comparisons. A leap over the wall--a leap back over the wall--is always a leap of faith. Antiphonal With joy and gladness we cry out to you, Lord: with love and laughter make our hearts sing today from sunrise to sunset. Wisdom of God, be with us, ever at work in us: guiding our hearts and hands; our thoughts, our words, our works. How happy are we who dwell in your house, 0 Lord, forever praising you. Maryanna Childs OP 340 Review for Religious EILEEN P. O'HEA Why We Stay Aging, inadequate retirement funds, as well as the high cost of health care that paralleled and intensified these issues, were crises in religious life that Archbishop Rembert Weak]and of Milwaukee and the campaign inaugurated by the American bishops made public. This campaign aimed at bring-ing attention and monies to the plight of religious communities in America. It brought public attention to something else as well. Along with the assessments religious communities were making about themselves and the data provided by professional research organizations, it made plain that religious communities, with their median age then at 62 and rising, could be vanishing from the American culture. What to do? Get more candidates! Vocation ministry then became a recognized need in religious communities. These min-isters were given offices, cars, and money to explore solutions to this problem. What was once left to chance meetings of persons attracted to religious life now became a full-time occupation. When the problem did not get resolved with an influx of members, these vocation ministers started confronting both com-munity leaders and community members about their nonin-volvement in the process of attracting candidates. Religious communities then began to examine their collective consciences. Why are people not attracted to us anymore? Are we doing some-thing wrong? Are we no longer reflecting those religious values Eileen P. O'Hea is a Sister of Saint Joseph of Brentwood, New York. Presently she is working as a therapist and a spiritual director at Stony Lake Office Park; 2459 15th Street N.W.; New Brighton, Minnesota 55112. May-June 1992 341 O'Hea ¯ Why l~Ve Stay that attract people to want to live out the gospel in a religious community? Or have we been so coopted by materialism and our own needs that people see us as just another lifestyle with little connection to the holy and the truly religious? Or perhaps we are just not presenting ourselves, not advertising ourselves enough, not effectively reaching the public's consciousness? Not doing enough or not being enough to attract members was taken seriously by religious communities. But numbers of candidates did not increase. What religious communities found was that there were people "out there" who wanted to join them in prayer and gospel response, but not full-time. This gave birth to associate membership. These associates reminded members of religious congregations of the value and importance of community. They recognized, perhaps intuitively, that the joining of persons in faith and love is essential to the experience of realized love. Religious communities opened their doors and their hearts and found that the relationship between them and their associate members was mutually beneficial. Leaders and members of reli-gious communities latched onto this relationship as the hope for the future of religious life. This new hope was translated into a familiar organizational plan: designate a community member as director of associate membership. Give the person a car, office, and money to explore this undertaking. The beginning of associate membership brought a sigh of relief to communities. Many communities began to see associate membership as the answer to extinction. But, shortly after its ini-tiation, problems began to arise about how much "say" associate members would have in setting the direction for religious com-munities and whether they could vote for members for leader-ship positions or become leaders themselves. How much "say" would associates have about monies spent, or how much access would they have to these monies in time of need? Moreover, actual associate membership, however popular and good, is not weighted in favor of youth and vitality. Some of the individuals attracted to this membership share the same median age as the community with which they associate. Some of a dif-ferent age group visit for a while and then move on or are taken up with other commitments. Some, of course, stay and radiate to the established community their vitality, gifts, and deep spirituality. What Archbishop Wealdand did through the campaign he inaugurated was make thoroughly public what had been only 342 Review for Religious known in the privacy of religious communities. What happens to individuals when they finally express some fear out loud to a friend or therapist happened to religious communities. They could no longer deny or conveniently repress the facts of aging and dimin-ishment. When the private fears of religious communities were brought into the public forum, they became more real, more potent. The problems of aging, not attracting permanent membership, inadequate health care are realities known to members who have chosen to stay in religious life. These problems are compounded especially for women religious as they sometimes experi-ence themselves systematically oppressed by the institutional church. Women have been deeply hurt. In this ecclesial relationship, as in other personal relationships, the hurt can come only if the investment is deep enough. And it is precisely because their love for the church is so deep that women, as well as men, have experienced hurt from some of the structures, operating principles, and mind-sets of the institutional church and its representatives. Some of us have chosen to stay in religious life fully con-scious of the crises and dilemmas presented. Others have left for personal reasons such as fear about the lack of security religious life represents. Still others wrestle with the option of leaving as they look at the statistical data, their experience of the institu-tional church, and the logic of the situation. Some of the reasons people stay are very personal, some are theological, and some are mystical. My reasons for staying incorporate all of these and, I believe, represent some of the convictions and intuitions held by many. One of the sweetest gifts of religious life I have experienced is the friendships I have had and the bonding I have experienced with a group of women who are part of my community. Though I do not stay in religious life because of them, their presence is very important. If you could imagine us all standing in a circle facing a luminous light, dancing our way to that light, it would image this reality somewhat. We weave in and out of each other's lives in this dance of life, knowing the reality of the center and at times being that center of light for each other. Though I do not stay in religious life because of my friends, their presence is very important. May-~Zune 1992 343 O'Hea ¯ Why We Stay The ones not in my immediate circle I know belong to another circle of their own intimate friends. We do not experience the light in each other yet. But our experience in community and our interdependence over the years have brought us from mutual rejection or intolerance to mutual appreciation of the differences between our personalities and mutual caring about each other. Someday, after my negative intellectual and emotional program-ming has been purified, I will know that they too are light. In the meantime I am surrounded by women who, at some level, value the search and desire to be one with God and struggle to live this out in their ministry and personal life. In the novitiate our novice director told us that we would be given a hundredfold return. I could not then imagin~ what that could mean, but reflection on the past years says that is so. Although my life has been difficult at points, especially through the sting of a celibate lifestyle, it has also been life-giving and full of wonderful people and experiences that belonging to a reli-gious community has either allowed or facilitated. And although I can point to oppression in the past (religious life, like marriage and other vocations, was evolving in its understanding of itself), today I experience inner freedom. In spite of, or because of, belonging to a religious community, I have come to some under-standing of myself. I have had the opportunity, through prayer and commitment to spiritual pursuits, to know myself as loved and to realize that my being and the Being of God are the same reality. Some days I am more conscious of this truth than others; some days my own egocentricity obscures it completely. My longing to be one with God drew me to religious life. Frequently I was disillusioned by members of my religious com-munity. Each hurt, each disillusionment, forced me to peel away another layer of a psyche torn between finding its happiness out-side itself in people and things or finding happiness inside itself. It was a bright moment, a moment of light, when a deeper self was realized, a self that found within her the longing of her heart and then began to make peace and love with the external world. That process continues. Religious life helps the process. The same wise woman of my novitiate also quoted the saying about putting one's hand to the plow and not turning back. It is another reason for staying in religious life. It is not a matter of logic or assessment of security needs. Staying in community is a stance of faith. In faith I believe that my original desire found 344 Review for Religious form through religious community. The form might change or dissolve or might mimic all living organisms and go through a disintegration period before being reintegrated in a new form. I wafit to be faithful to my original commitment, which is a com-mitment of right relationship with God, of knowing and discov-eri~ ng the essence of this relationship. The task of all forms, including that of religious life, is to give expression to a deeper reality. The reality of God is beyond form. The place of faith is standing with others, community members and friends, and fac-ing together the deeper reality and not being overwhelmed as the form does whatever it needs to do. To be companioned in faith and love at this level of reality is to mirror the light, life, and love of a God who is beyond form. When sisters and brothers stand together at this place of faith, we redirect the energies of the world from its obsession with form to the Reality toward which all form is supposed to point. The creative energy of God is what we see reflected in our material universe, but the ultimate call of all human beings is to go beyond ~he reflection to the source who is Life and Being. As groups of religious unite in faith, facing into and sharing in the c~nter who is Love, they acknowledge the interrelatedness of all p~rsons in a communion of being that is beyond form. Perhaps the apparent disintegration experienced by ?eligious com-munities is part of the nec~essary evolution all living organisms go through. Perhaps it is taking us to a deeper experience of real-ity- the Reality beyond form. We, in our age, have evolved to a point where we are con-scious of being conscious. We are teeter-tottering on the edge of a new shift in consciousness. Members of religious communities have made great efforts to join with one another and to remove the psychological and emotional blocks that cause us to see our-selves as separated from each other. We have made great efforts to know ourselves at our deepest level. As we discover this deep-est self, we begin to realize that God "is" the centered self--that we (God-I) ire one. The realization of this oneness is an experi-ence that cannot be contained. It cannot be restrained by the form that is our body or the form that is religious community. As we recognize our being "in" Love, we begin to experience oth-ers no longer as other, no longer as outside ourselves--or sepa-rated from us. This is the beginning of communion consciousness. It is a way of being with each other that is beyond form. May-June 1992 345 O'Hea ¯ Why We Stay Why do we stay in religious life? We stay because the form that is religious life is still pointing us to the Reality our hearts have longed to be one with. We stay because our companions have been faithful to us and we want to be faithful to them. We stay because the greatest adventure of all, the awakening of con-sciousness to Reality, is about to happen and religious community can facilitate that awakening. We stay because we recognize love here. We stay because we know God's faithful love and want to respond with love. We stay because the form provides, 'through the experience of community and ministry, relationships of mutual love and sharing. We stay because we refuse to be intimidated by fear and a lack of security. We stay because we have put our hand to the plow and want to fulfill our commitment. We stay because our lives and commitment are about faith. We stay because in community the experience of God as Trinity is being realized and manifested in relationships that are life-giving, loving, and mutual. We stay because our intuition tells us that the experience of com-munion consciousness is about the many discovering themselves as one. We believe that the evolution of religious life is moving us closer to this discovery. We stay because true identity is realized in the discovery of the mutual indwelling of our being in the being of God and others. We stay because we want to witness to the Reality beyond form. Silence I cannot say that I no longer sing for in my heart, the while my lips are dumb, my song I keep. I only know that words no longer come to break the silent singing of a thing that lies too deep. Florian Reichert SSJ 346 Review for Religious MELANNIE SVOBODA When a Sister or Brother Leaves All of us in religious life have seen some of our brothers and sisters leave our communities even after many years. The circumstances leading to such a decision are usually complex and unique to each individual. But one fact is simple and universal: a person's decision to leave religious life has an impact on those who "decide to stay." The stronger the ties that bind us together in a religious community, the greater the pain and con-fusion when such bonds are, for all practical purposes, severed. This article explores some of the pain and confusion sur-rounding one sister's leaving. "Sue" (as I call her) is not a "real" sister, nor are these direct quotes from my own "real" journal. Such a reflection would be too personal for me to publish at this time. It would also run the risk of violating the privacy of a par-ticular individual's decision to leave religious life. Sue is rather, a composite of a number of i'eal people who have left my commu-nity and other communities as well. And though this account is fiction in the technical sense, it is nonetheless, I trust,-very true. It is my ho~e that these reflections will resonate with the thoughts and feelings of o~hers who have experienced a friend's departure from religious life. She tells me, "I'm leaving." And she wants me to be one of the first to know, before "it's announced." I sit in silence and disbe- Melannie Svoboda SND, a regular contributor to Review for Religious, resides at Notre Dame Academy; Route One, Box 197; Middleburg, Virginia 22117. May-j~ne 1992 347 Svoboda ¯ When a Sister or Brother Leaves Something is terribly wrong. Like someone has died or something, only I cannot remember who. lief in the front seat of the car. For a few moments I can say and do nothing. I am not surprised. Not really. Hasn't she been sharing her struggles with me these past three years? Didn't I suspect even a year ago that her searching and questioning would eventually lead to this: the decision to go? No, I am not surprised. But I am numbed. At least momentarily. Finally I say, "Are you sure?" And in the dim light of the car I see her nod and pull out a tissue, and I know she is crying. I reach over to her-- awkwardly over the gear shift and try to comfort her. I say her name a few times, and then I start to cry, too. For several moments we sit like that--me with my arm around her shoulder. No words. Just the sound of our soft crying. After a few moments we both sit up straight and blow our noses. In unison. We laugh at that and the laughter frees us to talk. Unhaltingly, she tells me of her most recent talks with her spiritual director, of her meeting with our provincial, and of her plans to tell her fam-ily. Everything seems decided. Everything is in place. She will leave in two months--on July 1. One day short of the twenty-eighth anniversary of her entrance into religious life. Of our entrance. I try to listen to everything she is telling me, but my mind is still stuck back there on her first two words, "I'm leaving." At the end I cry some more. I feel her hand gently on my back. I say, "I'm sorry, Sue." She thinks I mean for my tears. But I don't. "It's okay, Melannie. It's okay." But I am thinking: It is not okay. Nothing is okay. And, I fear, nothing will ever be okay again. When I wake up in the morning, I sense: something is wrong. Terribly wrong. Like someone has died or something, only I can-not remember who. I turn on the light. My eyes wince from the assault of its brightness. As my head falls back onto the pillow, "it" hits me: of course, she is leaving. How could I forget? As I slowly crawl out of bed, I feel sick to my stomach. And I know it's 348 Review for Religious not something I ate, it's not the flu. It's the thought of her going away. Later this morning she calls to ask me how I am. She asking me! I say, "Okay. How about you?" And we talk a little more. But before she hangs up she says, "You know, you cried the most. Of everyone I have told so far, you cried the most." And then she adds, "Thanks." Thanks? For what? For loving you? I go to school and I am the cheerful, competent, organized teacher you read about in all the educational journals. But it is all a sham. Inside I am dying--only no one knows. Her leaving is an oppressive burden I bear alone--for now--in secret. But maybe that is good, I think. For as long as nobody else knows about it yet, her leaving has an aura of unreality about it--which eases the pain a little. For now. o~o o~o o~o o:o I have known her for over thirty years--since we were fresh-men in high school. We sat next to each other in homeroom that year, and I liked her from the very start. She was cute, funny, lively, and (above all) good. Although we were typical teenage girls back then, we were somehow comfortable with bringing God into our more serious conversations. We were both terribly idealistic back then. My idealism nour-ished hers and hers mine. Although we made the decision to enter religious life independently of each other, we obviously influ-enced each other greatly. One month after graduating from high school, at age eighteen, the two of us entered the novitiate of the Sisters of Notre Dame--together. I decide I am taking this whole thing too morosely. I tell myself: "So, what's the big deal, anyway? You are acting as if she has died or something. That's stupid! So, a friend decides to leave religious life. So what? People make big changes in their lives all the time. "So, she is leaving. Don't make it soUnd so awful. Gone are the years when we called such departures 'defections.' Do not try to figure out her decision. Do not try to understand it. Accept it. May-~une 1992 349 Svoboda ¯ When a Sister or Brother Leaves Accept her. Stop moping. She's leaving. But life will go on--for her, for you." And just when such logic makes such good sense to me and I resolve to accept her decision with greater equanimity, she calls me on the phone and, after talking to her for an hour and hang-ing up, I cry again. Through my outpouring of words, I am celebrating her and our friendship. I talk,to Bob about her. He listens with concern and com-passion- as usual. He asks me all kinds of questions--about her, about me, about our relationship. And it is as if a dam has been broken wide open, and my words come gushing out like water. And I talk and talk. And in the talking I suddenly real-ize: I am celebrating her. Through my outpouring of words, I am celebrating her and our friendship. And it feels good. Then I tell him of my concerns for her, my fears. He listens attentively, gen-tly prodding with a question every now and then. And I am grateful, so grateful for this man who can elicit such an out-pouring from me and who is so respectful of everything I tell him. Finally he says, "You love her very much." A simple statement of fact. And I nod and smile at its obvi-ousness, and then I cry a little more and laugh, too. And later he asks, "Have you taken all of this to the Lord, Melannie?" And I stumble over my words, knowing I have not. At least not nearly enough. I tell Bob: "I keep thinking, 'God, if I love her this much, how much more you must love her.'" "That's good," he says. "That's good." And I leave Bob with a lighter heart and a clearer appreciation of my love for her-- and of my pain. And I wonder: When will I take all of this to God? Soon, I think. But not yet. I am worried about her. She is looking for a job now. She is talking about salary and taxes and insurance and getting an apart-ment. Almost all of our conversations these days are about her-- her and her plans. 350 Review for Religious It bothers me a little. Why? Do I feel left out? (I have plans, too!) Or is it that I want our relationship to return to an earlier form, to a time when our plans tended to coincide more? Whatever, I suggest to her: "The next time we get together, let's do something. Like go bowling or even to the zoo or some-thing, okay?" She says okay. I am relieved, for I am tired of talking about her, about "it." But as soon as I admit this to myself, I feel small and selfish. I do not understand her reasons for leaving. They are deep and go back many, many years. She still believes in religious life, she tells me. She still loves our community. And yet leaving us is something she feels she has to do. I do not understand, but I believe she has to do this. That belief makes her going easier for me to accept. o~o o~o o~o o.'o I loved her before we were Sisters of Notre Dame. I will con-tinue to love her afterwards, too. Yet I sense (and so does she) that there will be a change in our friendship--a significant change. After all, our shared commitment in the same religious commu-nity has been a vital part of our friendship. With that pai't gong, we are both wondering: How much wili our friendship be altered? And will the two of us be up to such an alteration? These past few days have been "guilt days." I keep thinking: Did I, as a friend, fail her? Is that why she is leaving? Maybe there is something I could have done that would have prevented her from making this decision. Maj'be .I could have been more sensi-tive, more caring, more supportive, more . Or did we as a religious community let her down? Is there something we as a community should be doing to prevent all these departures? Maybe we are overworked. Maybe we are focusing too much on ministry and not enough on each other. Maybe we are living the life all wrong.-Maybe., maybe., maybe. Bob says,"Youwomen really do get emotionally involved in each other~ lives." May-.~une 1992 351 Svobodu ¯ When a Sister or Brother Leaves I ask, "Don't you men feel like this when a brother leaves your .community?" "No," he says, "with us it is different. I do not think we feel it nearly as much as you women do." If what Bob says is true in men's communities, there is a part of me that envies men. But, then again, there is a part of me that feels sorry for them. Peg calls. She knows now, too. Finally someone in the com-munity I can talk to about it. "What do you think?" she asks me. And I tell her what I think. Then she shares with me her feel-ings. She is hurt. She is angry. She is worried about Sue. And now there is an added dimension to my own pain: seeing the pain Sue's leaying is having on others like Peg. But it is Peg's anger that takes me aback. So far I have not felt any anger, have I? Only hurt. Only worry. But now I wonder: Am I denying my anger? Am I letting Sue leave us too easily? Should I be fighting more to make her stay? Is my acceptance of her decision my way of lessening my own pain? Of easing my anger? I do not know what to think anymore. At the break at the meeting, Carol grabs me by the arm and pulls me out into the hall. "What's with Sue?" she asks brusquely. Not sure how much she already knows, I ask, "What do you mean?" Immediately I sense her irritation: (She has ne;cer been known for patience--or gentleness.) "Okay, Melannie, you can spare me the gory details. I know she is leaving. All I want to know is: Is she going to be okay?" I nod. "Yes, she is going to be okay." Carol seems satisfied--with that tiny scrap of information. I am amazed at how little it takes to appease hei', how little she wants to know. But maybe I am reading her wrong. Maybe she is just being extremely respectful of Sue's privacy. Whatever, she walks back into the meeting seemingly content. It was announced today. In a letter from the provincial. One brief paragraph. (Over twenty-five years of living religious life, and one short paragraph to tell the community of your leaving.) She 352 Review for Religious has asked for a leave "for personal reasons." Let us "remember her in our prayers," and so forth. How many times have I read such announcements? You would think I'd have gotten used to them by now. But I never have. I hope I never will. When I get the letter and read it, I cry again. How strange. I have not cried in weeks about "it." Why now? Then I realize: the announcement finalizes "it." There is no denying her leaving now, no turning back. It is a fact. And every sister in the community knows it now, too. o:o o:. o~o .:o Mary meets me in the hall, and I can tell by her eyes what she is going to say before she says it. "I just read the announcement about Sue, Melannie," she says softly. "And--and I guess I just want you to know: I am praying for her--and for you. I know it must be hard." She puts her hand on my shoulder. I smile. I say, "Thanks, Mary. Thanks." But two people are struggling inside of me. One is saying, "Yes, comfort me! Please comfort me!" while the other one is screaming, "Go away! I do not want your pity! Go away!" So, she is gone. Officially. Not completely, of course. She is still "connected" to us, for the church does not ordinarily permit a quick egress from religious life. Rather, it encourages a gradual one. She is still one of us, although living in an apartment now and working on her own. She will stay in touch with "us" by her contact with the provincial, with one of our local communities, and with a few of us, her closest friends. I tell myself, "She might come back. Some do, you know-- after doing what they have to do or whatever . " But I know in my heart: hardly anyone ever does. I call Sue. It has been weeks since we talked. The spaces between our conversations and meetings are getting wider, I notice. She is upset because she feels her leaving has hurt so many sisters. She knows some are angry with her. She says, "Why can't they see that my leaving is not an indictment against religious May-June 1992 353 Svoboda ¯ When a Sister or Brother Leaves life or their decision to stay? Why can't they just accept my deci-sion?" I say something like, "Well, maybe you have to give them more time, Sue. After all, you took years to make your decision. Now give them time to work through accepting it." I see Bob ~again. He asks about Sue. "Have you begun to deal with what effect her leaving is having on you personally--and your own commitment?" "Not really," I say. "I think I am still wallowing in the pain of losing her. And I am still too worried about her to think too much about myself. And I am so busy, too." ("Mercifully busy," I think to myself.) He listtns attentively and then says, "That's okay--for now. But it will come, you know. Sooner or later. You will have to deal with it: your own decision to stay." I know he is right. At the community meetings this week, I miss her very much. I expect to see her in the hall, to have lunch with her, to laugh with her. Only she is not there. Afterwards I call and talk to her, but I do not know how much of these community meetings to share with her, how much she wants to hear about what "we" are doing. And I sense I am beginning to see her as no longer a part of that "we." If only she were more sure of herself. If only I saw more direc-tion in her life, more certitude. But she still seems so direction-less, biding her time with this temporary job, still searching for who knows what. Everyone asks me, "How is Sue doing?" And I never know how to respond. If I say, "Fine," that is a lie. She is not fine. She is confused, lonely, and struggling. But if I say, "She i~ having a really hard time right now," that is misleading, too. It makes it sound as if she has made a mistake in leaving us. So, not knowing how to respond to their inquiries, I usually end up saying, "She is okay--but it is hard, you know." And my 354 Review for Religious voice trails off, and I think I have communicated the truth as well as it can be communicated. I love her. I care about her. I miss her. That is all I am trying to say, God. These jottings are perhaps too focused upon me and not enough upon her. But I entrust even that to your love as I try to entrust all things--especially Sue. She leaves. I stay. Why? Forever I have never lived in forever. ? where love is always and night never comes. Tonight, as I crawl into the arms of your Love, God, the idea of lasting forever causes a shudder thru my being. I have never known forever. ? here, everything ends. Day ends when night comes. and Yesterday is different from Today or Tomorrow. Here nothing is always the same. As I lie here thinking of your Love that lasts forever, two pains f!ll my being-- fear and desire, because I who had a beginning will join You in life unending. I have never known forever. ? Vowed to You, I promise to persevere unto death. Should I not say, ". into life"? Claire Mahaney RSCJ May-j~une 1992 355 BRIAN B. MC CLORRY The Integral Sabbatical transitions I woke very early on a June morning, restfully uncertain where I was and so checked the surrounds with interest, coffee and cigarette in hand, looking for a sound, geo-graphical answer. The sunlight was bright, the landscape clear: Holman Island, Northwest Territories, Canada, some three hundred miles inside the arctic circle. The third and final part of my sabbatical had begun. Holman seemed a far cry from the Jesuit Renewal Center in Milford, Ohio, where the sabbatical had started, a far cry from Cambridge, Massachusetts, where I had spent a semester at the Weston School of Theology. It was all a far cry from Leeds, England, where I had been Catholic chap-lain for the University and Polytechnic. Both in Cambridge and Milford I had been mildly surprised at the number of people, mainly religious, who were also on sabbatical. No doubt there is a tendency for sabbatical people to frequent the same watering holes when they are not wandering the earth visiting their con-gregation's communities. Sabbaticals are now common among religious, and in the religious press sabbatical pro-grams are widely advertised. The sabbatical now seems to be an unexceptional part of religious life in much the same way that, for some congregations, the tertianship--a kind of compulsory spiritual sabbatical--is an integral part of formation. This is clearly a new development. Brian B. McClorry SJ writes from Manresa House; 10 Albert Road; Harborne; Birmingham B 17 0AN; England. 356 Review for Religious In the 1960s sabbaticals were primarily a way of dealing with problem people or people with problems. It was, of course, a moot point whether the problem belonged to the persons involved or to their congregations. These sabbaticals were, in part, ways of responding to developments which were unforeseen, confusing, and frequently unwelcome. Sometimes they were mainly thera-peutic or disciplinary. There is likely to be a healing element in many sabbaticals, but it is right to allow sabbaticals a valid exis-tence on the far side of therapy. Recently the sabbatical has been reintroduced as a disciplinary measure by congregations and Roman authorities in an attempt to save an order or an ortho-doxy felt to be imperiled. Again the question remains whether it is the person or the institution that stands in need of a sabbatical. This, however, is not a question I will discuss here. There were and are "problem," "therapeutic," and "disciplinary" sabbaticals as ' well as those associated with academic work. But none of these is unexceptional and integral to religious life. The integral sabbat-ical, however, is new. Of course it may well be asked how integral to religious life sabbaticals really are, even at a more or less empirical level. Neither all congregations nor all religious make use of them. Indeed, when taken, not all sabbaticals are greeted in a sufficiently sabbatical fashion. There is the itch to justify or to decry, a ten-dency to view sabbaticals as a reward, or a vacation, or as a debt to be paid. That there are many kinds of response to the statement "I am on sabbatical . . ." is sufficient reason for discussion. Moreover, if religious make widespread use of sabbaticals, the diocesan clergy in the main do not. There are regional and denominational variations. Sabbaticals are commoner among diocesan priests in the United States than in England; the Methodist Church in England has a policy and a provision for sabbaticals whereas Roman Catholic dioceses in England do not-- except in a very negative sense. The questions raised both by sab-baticals and their absence are of widespread interest. In what follows I will try to examine way~ of understanding the "integral" sabbatical, using my sabbatical experience as a kind of case study. This approach inevitably will be limited, but not inevitably limiting. There are no absolute anecdotes: individual cases are also part of our social, cultural, economic, and religious history. Most serious questions will be left decently unanswered on the ground that closure is ordinarily premature. May-d~une 1992 357 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical Timing and Validation One clear and important element in evaluating and preparing for sabbaticals is timing. Scriptural tradition designates every sev-enth year as a sabbatical year. The British province of the Society of Jesus provides for h sabbatical ten years after tertianship. Having a policy, provided it is not applied woodenly, allows indi-viduals to have and to plan for sabbaticals. It also allows the con-gregation to suggest them more easily. It is at the level of policy that the question of justifying sabbaticals emerges with particular force. Are sabbaticals.justifiable? As with many questions, this one is best approached not directly, but through the categories which are found helpful in discovering the kind of thing a sabbatical might be. There are, of course, lines of thought in the scriptural tradition. Originally the intention behind the sabbatical year was to give rest to the land, the vineyard, and the olive grove. This rest would give the poor and the wild animals a chance to eat (Ex 23:10-11) and allow debts to be remitted (Lv 15:2). There would be no scarcity, for the "sabbath of the land" itself would provide enough food (Lv 2 5:6). The help given to the poor was not to be confined to the sab-bath year (Dt 15:9), for this sabbatical value was of permanent importance and validity. What is involved here is a careful knowl-edge of the land, plants, and animals--and the perception that the workings of the economy both damage these and do violence to the community. People are squeezed out and forced into the powerlessness of debt. The sabbatical year is a piece of positive discrimination and a recall to the tru~ values and creative origins of the community. Parallels are problematic, but it may make sense to view the contemporary sabbatical in these terms rather than as intrapersonal refurbishing or as an opportunity for gain-ing skills or knowledge. To leave for a time the work we do may well benefit that work (there will be, it seems, no shortages), and both the work and the workers may recover their creative ori-gins. We may begin once more to perceive whfit is demanded and who is excluded both in our work and in our societies. In this sense a sabbatical may be an effective symbol of grace and faith, of justice and peace. The link between "sabbatical" and "sabbath" is obvious. Whether or not this is the beginning of a line of thought in favor of the "integral" sabbatical, the question of timing remains. Timing is not simply a matter of administrative convenience or 358 Review for Religious possibility, nor is it only a question of calendars, frequency, and opportunity. Some years ago I had a particularly trying period of ministry in a poor inner-city area. The ministry failed. The team failed to work together--a failure in which I was implicated deeply. Eventually the project was closed. I was hurt, angry, and had come to the end of the road. The off-road terrain was hardly visible. I scarcely believed I had energy enough left to start afresh any-where and so began to dally with the seductive idea of a sabbati-cal and its promise of escape. Fortunately my provincial suggested that I return to university chaplaincy work--a ministry I had known and liked. To my surprise I agreed quickly and easily and, in the event, found to my delight that the energy and interest were still there. The work therapy worked. After four years, how-ever, it became clear that my old and easy patience with under-graduates was wearing thin, that I wanted to spend my time with faculty, ecumenical questions, and issues affecting the institutions themselves rather than with students. It was not the end of the road, just time to go. Then the idea of a sabbatical reemerged, tinged with excitement, less seductive but more promising. The sabbatical promised to be less therapeutic or escapist than it would have been if taken earlier. It would be more positive, an affair of discovery. Sabbaticals are "integral" in more ways than one: they are better timed the more they are at one with the positive move-ments of our life stories and not just snagged on fragment.s of these narratives. Better timing, it seems, might also lead to a bet-ter content. Content and Desire Academics on sabbatical might well do research, though many academics speak of sabbaticals in terms not reducible to academic research. Nonacademics also might want to do research, to con-template steadily or ferret away busily in some area which comes into view as life-giving, deeply interesting, part of the emerging oudines of a mysterious but attractive future. On occasion it makes sense to learn skills that can be put to determinate use. Sometimes it is better to do woodwork. Clearly the content of a sabbatical varies indefinitely and could even include the possibility of a care-fully mixed cocktail. I wanted to have time, space, and the right environment for reading and writing. So much was a felt need. I also wanted to follow a program in spiritual direction. For many May-June 1992 359 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical years I had given one or two directed retreats a year and won-dered what, if anything, I had learned from the experience and what, if anything, I imagined I was doing in this ministry. It seemed that retreat work of some kind was a likely future. For me woodwork was not a serious contender--although I can almost smell the i:eel of the grain. Behind the question of content--what, after all, shall I do?- there is the matter of imaginati6n and desire. What do I really desire? How free or frozen is the imagination that shapes our conscious desires? What are the desires that might free or freeze our imaginations? It does not do to link desire solely with what is conventionally good, for there is more to good than convention supposes. It does not do to mold imagination only by pi'agmatic realism, for realism can imprison as well as free our imaginations. Desire is a matter of discovery and strange meetings: a geography of uncertainty and power. Maps for desire do not exist, for it is a contemplative heuristic, a medium in which mystery is disclosed. It is not, however, an infallible heuristic. A year before he died, a friend who had many desires told me, "I have never known what I really wanted to do." Desir~ is not exhausted in the desires we know we have. In Genesis the naming of animals is, in a strange and unfem-inist narrative, part of a search that culminates in the joyful, real-ized completion of creation. God brings the animals to the man to see what he would call them (Gn 2:19). To stay long enough in prayer so that completing the sentence "I want." is done iri God's presence is to begin to name those elements of ourselves and our world which God brings to us for naming. We may name what is incomplete or destructive in us, or what lacks integration in our lives. In this naming w~ may be set free of what possesses Us, an exorcism in which the demons, if they return, have no real power. We are freed from d~fensiveness and become less timid. Alternatively, we may find that we name our positive desires and find in this naming that the truth of our seeking and welcoming is revealed. In both cases the disclosure of the God who, in Christ, dream~ with us brings with it freshness and discovery. The con-tent of a sabbatical, however practical or impractical it may be, is also to be discovered, found out, stumbled across, given. The content of a sabbatical should resonate with or express the desires we discover in us, desires which at the same time help us find out what a sabbatical--or a life--might be like. 360 Review for Religious Even though my imagination was thin, my desires were real enough: an intern.ship in spiritu, al direction at Milford and a semester of reading at Weston. I felt there was much to be dis-covered in the course of these programs that would be enjoyable and useful. I did not envisage any discoveries jolting my paradigms. At Weston I would go on a light diet and look for space. There were, however, some four months of the sabbatical which were as yet undetermined. The "third world" was not a strong contender. I had recently spent a hard but exhilarating summer in Guyana and, years before, had done my tertianship in India. A journey to Zimbabwe or to South Africa always remained a possibility. Whatever the status of my gawky ratio-nalizing, the truth was that I had no particular desire to go to the third world. I found I wanted to go to northern Canada. The experience would be new, which is one value in sabbatical planning; but it was the desire to go, rather than arbitrary novelty, that mattered. Certainly I wanted to be far from known places and defined expectations; there was the lure of the north with its sparse and spacious environment and its rather specialized attractions of ice and snow. That world would have a different scent: snow alters aromas. The Canadian north had always been attractive to me, and once or twice I had sniffed at its fringes. But although the desire to go was clear, its rationale was elusive, mysterious. It had to do, I thought, with going to a large, remote, and cold place in order, paradoxically, to unfreeze my imagination and creativity. The north was the right environment for that kind of event, in some sense the necessary place. Moreover, there was the remote but dramatic possibility of spending time in the Canadian arctic. I liked the dramatic frisson, expected something to "happen," and found that the prospect enhanced the attractiveness of the sab-batical as a whole. It gave a sharp edge to the enterprise and I looked forward to that edge. I got out maps and wrote to bishops. The desire had emerged and persisted. The provincial concurred; the bishops in the north agreed. So much for the discernment. I write, of course, after the event--with the heightened accu-racy and inaccurate overclarity which marks retrospectives. Sometimes, however, the content of a sabbatical is found largely Sometimes the content of a sabbatical is found largely in retrospect. May-3~ne 1992 361 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical in retrospect. Characteristically I planned my sabbatical carefully. I was not going to drift into a sabbatical and discover afterwards that a sabbatical is what I might have had. My time would be spent well, responsibly, even originally. But planning has its times and seasons, and for many "planning" and "exploration" are hyper-active metaphors better replaced by "contemplation" and "wait-ing." A friend of mine spent the first three months of a sabbatical year waiting to see what he wanted to do; another spent some months after his sabbatical finding out what he had done and what his desires had been. It seems that the justification of sab-baticals and their content lies in the mysterious priority of desire and imagination rather than in efficient planning and declared good intentions. There is some need for discernment of desire and imagination, for neither whim nor designer image is a suffi-cient guide. Conventionally, the value of a sabbatical rests on enhanced skills, published research, a revitalized person. The generous mea-sure of truth in these pictures--which do express something of our desires--should not obscure another dimension. Sabbaticals are in some respects like parables.~ Jesus' parables carry many meanings and so have a capacity to interact in many and new ways with our lives and cultures, Sometimes the parables break under their own realism--ninety-nine sheep are left unprotected in the course of the search for the one which is lost. The parables both disjoint our ways of looking at and being in the world and open up new and energetic possibilities. On this basis it is mean-minded to settle effectivelyon one allowed description of a sabbatical, for example, "study leave." What matters is that sabbaticals are allowed to become parables, polyvalent narratives whose realism does not determine the story. Milford and Cambridge It is a commonplace that programs in spiritual direction include much "listening." Accurate, active, contemplative, prophetic, and holistic listening--with individuals and in a group--are all elements in a conversation. They are ways of dis-covering what may be going on in prayer or life--ways of finding a path that fits and may.lead somewhere. No doubt I learned and relearned some skills at Milford and welcomed the lines of inquiry and interest which these engendered. Such learning, however, is 362 Review for Religious notoriously not neutral or unaffecting. Listeners listen also to themselves; and, when they become conscious or aware of what they hear, there is the possibility and gift of a transformation which is not reducible to the addition of skill to skill. So I found, in a time of surprise, a change in me which was about trusting and expecting more from God. The coloration of my world shifted, its shape altered. The world I stepped into was a friendly place and the friend-liness was to be trusted. This perceived feature of the world was not a purely intrapersonal shift. Nor was it entirely an empirical affair. My father moved from house to hospital and from hospi-tal to a retirement home with his memory impaired. I returned to England for a few weeks to help the moves and to sell the house. The Gulf War started unbelievably and ended with unseeing cel-ebrations. Ten feet from me in a bus in Boston a man was shot in the face on Good Friday. But the world was friendly because God was in the world and the world was in God. This discovery did not invite me to rush into developing a theodicy or to reread the old ones, to put together friendliness and unfriendliness. If there was a theodicy, it would be rooted in, among other things, a complex attentiveness to the world, which was in God, and to God, who was in the world. Both the friendliness and the unfriendliness of the world called forth the look of friendly regard. This, the grace-ful face of panentheism, seemed new--a well-remembered face seen as if for the first time. This friendliness connected with specific matters in spiritual direction. In the language of Ignatius's Spiritual Exera'ses, I became better able to trust "consolation" both in myself and in retreatants. God, after all, relates to consolation and desolation in different ways. The relationship to desolation is real but entirely provi-sional; what characterizes God's action is consolation. In this friendliness it also became possible to sit happily with my igno-rance when giving spiritual direction. "Not knowing" was nei-ther a fearful void to be filled nor an affront to be denied. It was not an affront to competence but a resource to be tapped. To sit with ignorance was to be in danger of finding out, with the part-ner in the conversation, what good thing was happening, what shape hope might take. Such changes in ways of looking at and being in the world are at one with the Old Testament tradition on sabbaticals: a recovery of creative origins. They may happen in the staid, sup- May-d~une 1992 363 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical portive, and challenging world of the Jesuit Renewal Center-- although Milford, Ohio, is not a location which of itself provokes radical insight. (Sometimes it seemed that many areas of our planet are invisible from Ohio.) But changes may also require places or environments which are marginal or shocking. A friend of mine spent most of his sabbatical working in a refugee camp in Thailand. What can be hoped for, wherever we go, is that changes include but are not restricted to intrapersonal health and survival. They will also include the world in which we ordinarily live but have only partly discovered. We may also hope to accept and to find that we do not control the narrative of the sabbatical--nor does the institution or environment in which we find ourselves. Such hoped-for changes, as in the Old Testament tradition, do not need to be confined to the time of a sabbatical, but can have a more permanent validity. With some loss of narrative control, I spent a few weeks in Montreal and Quebec City writing fiction (short stories in which I struggled with and for the narrative) before descending on Cambridge, Massachusetts. The semester at Weston was to be reflective: a few seminars for social reasons and an amount of reading. There was much to delight in, from Erich Auerbach's Mimesis to Annie Dillard's Teaching a Stone to Talk. The reading mattered. Someone said that Annie Dillard's writing evidenced "an amoral hospitality to experience." What price could the dis-cernment of spirits fetch here? Auerbach's literary criticism dis-tinguished a high style, quite divorced from the ordinary life of undistinguished people, from a style, also high, which found won-drous significance in commonplace lives and circumstances. If Milford was about trusting God in a world in which consolation and friendliness were to be trusted, Cambridge was about doing that in the ordinary present--the place where true hospitality lies. For some periods of time I had felt (often with good reasons) that there were important things to be done which were not real-izable in the job I had, the place I was in, the circumstances in which I found myself. Matters were unsatisfactory. Something of this feeling is, perhaps, an occasional inevitability. Life is unsat-isfactory in different ways and at a variety of levels. But a gap can open between the present and the significant future which robs both of any real value. Of a character in Raymond Chandler's The Big Sleep, the narrator says, "He was looking over into the next val- 364 Review for Religious ley all the time. He wasn't scarcely around where he was." The gap, of course, is about faith as well as presence. There can be a belief in a "god within" who does not welcome the present and a belief in a "god without"--usually absent from the present--in whose future greatness is promised. These two gods are awkward little idols who are not on speaking terms, but who conspire to augment the discomfort of the believer. In the disappearance of the gap between the present and the significant future, there is the loss of two idols, of two gods, and a being found by the one God. Monotheism turned out to be a very powerful affair. The disappearance of the gap, the exiling of the idols, helped me to let go of some things I would never do, however grand the significant future and the pointed present. This was not asceticism or realism, that doubtful consoler. In friendliness and free from the idols, I found there was no need to package myself, to tie up in well-wrapped parcels who I am and what I do. I become pack-aged for reasons of defense and success. But these energy-con-suming activities turned out to be not only harmful but also, and more importantly, unnecessary. The fears that provoked packag-ing became heavily relativized. John Macmurray has a striking remark about fear: The maxim of illusory religion runs: "Fear not; trust in God and he will see that none of the things you fear will happen to you"; that of real religion, on the contrary, is "Fear not; the things that you are afraid of are quite likely to happen to you, but they are nothing to be afraid of.''2 There may well be matters about which it is right and proper to be afraid, but the fear that provokes packaging turns out to be wonderfully otiose. What emerged in Cambridge and had been emerging in Milford was a new sense of integration or fit, not only in me but in how I am present in the world. I preferfit, with its sense of a curve fitting spot readings, a trail in the wilderness which finds the nature of the landscape, a saying in a conversation which res-onates and reveals. "Integration" is a touch static and inward. The appearance of the fit had precisely the quality of exploration and discovery--exploration within and, at one with that, explo-ration of the world. A man lies bleeding in the aisle of the bus, sol-diers pray for peace as the Gulf War ultimatum runs out, people have the glow and the shock of the Holy Spirit on their faces, the books are in the library, the seminar sparkles, and the cold May-June 1992 365 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical in Quebec City gnaws the bones by the frozen St. Lawrence out-side the first Jesuit house in Canada. In all of this idols vanish, the world has a new curvature, and God dreams and surprises. Sabbaticals are times for heralded and unheralded exploration and discovery. These are prime sabbatical hopes and valid extrasabbatical values. Going to northern Canada, to the remote places, seemed like an appropriate continuation of this journey. It had also the character of a celebration. Yukon and Northwest Territories From one point of view, I went north in order to "supply" in parishes and on mission stations. It would be a time of much trav-eling and short stays. As the sabbatical proceeded and the time for departure drew closer, I found that what I wanted was simply to be in the here and now, in that environment, with those people. To be present in a friendly, contemplative, unpackaged, and reflec-tive fashion was what mattered. I did not want to undertake a study tour or become a tourist. Nor did I want to stay in one place "working" or creating a proactive availability. For this period, rootedness was not a value. Staying wherever the bish-ops3 suggested would keep me free of programs, encourage a being present which had little predetermined character--and yet would allow me to give myself and others a ready and real account of what I was doing and why I was there. Performing a small ser-vice was a satisfactory blessing and a gift I needed. I also wanted to look at the landscape and to see what hap-pened when I looked. The environment, I thought, would announce itself in ways which could not be honored simply by going for a walk. From this viewpoint people were secondary, but there is an environmental dimension inseparable from human life and it seemed that the native people would be at one with their environment. That people were secondary in my immediate inter-ests was not a dismissive attitude. So I looked at the landscape-- from the ground and from the air in light planes. In Yukon Territory it turned out to be difficult to look steadily at the moun-tains, valleys, lakes. What was there remained veiled by a prodi-gal facticity, and I had to set myself repeatedly not to turn aside. To sit' with this ignorance was also difficult. "This coast is too beautiful," said a man in the Vancouver airport to a friend; "get me another beer." Eventually the season of looking (after winter 366 Review for Religioto and before summer) itself turned out to be curiously privileged. The mountains disclosed more of themselves when their features were picked out by a light snow cover than when blanketed by heavy snow, or as free of snow as they might be in the late sum-mer. All seasons are privileged and so--also and therefore--was this present time. Eventually it became possible to see shapes, colors, and variations--to pick out the crude outlines of the geol-ogy. At what seemed an infinite cost, it became possible to look steadily. The startling landscape and harsh climate provoked ques-tions. Although the land is beautiful, some of the "southerners" who have come to stay cannot tolerate the winter isolation and depression. The land is wonderful and the energy people expend relates them closely to the environment; but mining marks the landscape. The slag heap grows huge in the middle of the valley by the mine in Cassiar; the tailings continue to mark the Klondike. But in Elsa, a ghost mining town, there is no human activity. The trees, lynx, and martin--the original inhabitants--are beginning to reclaim their territory. To what does this expenditure of energy and ingenuity relate? Sometimes--often--the energy is not expended. Without employment the choices seem to be contem-plation, alcoholism, activism, or hibernation. But the southerners who come and stay--or who return with regularity--seem to be larger and more significant than I imagine they would be if they had remained "outside." It is as if the landscape gives them value and importance or allows their significanFe to emerge and flour-ish. Some come north for a time of healing or to step away from unaccommodating circumstances; others are on the run and bring their pursuers with them. At best there is more than eccentricity and escapism. Lives are lived with old values brought from the south which are given room and enhancement by the land; new values are recognized and welcomed in small towns in the moun-tain wilderness. Strong views coexist with tolerance, showing a respect for people similar to the necessary respect for the climate. At times there is scant respect for environmentalists, who are seen to have a relationship with the country and the animals which is thin and unreal compared to that of miners, hunters, and trappers. Yet downstream from Whitehorse the waters are polluted. The pollution amazes: the Yukon, though twice the area of the United Kingdom, has a population of only about thirty thousand. Despite the invitation and the rewards, I found it difficult to May-~t~une 1992 367 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical sit, to be, to contemplate, and see. My head, eyes, and feet were always in danger of being drawn away toward the future or toward present effectiveness. There was the ridiculous itch to justify how I spent my time here, in one of the most privileged environments on earth. To look, to appreciate and hear, were not more impor-tant but, rather, prior necessities. So much, it appeared, would be true for me also in the United Kingdom. There, too, I would need to discover how to look and listen. Eventually these dis-tracting energies, these pieces of unbelief, became insubstantial. Sitting in the dust--the gold dust--of Dawson acquired power. What mattered were walks along the banks of the Yukon River, taking care to identify the ducks. Surf scoters! This identifying and naming were not violently dismissive (a "that's that and what next?" attitude) but allowed what I saw to become part of the public world, made it shareable and so part of a communal promise. In some places the forests were thin. It was possible to move through them without following a trail or struggling through the undergrowth and fallen trees. Twice the bright' bark of the birch trees seemed to give light. The forest was lit from within: an event as unexpected and as usual as a fox crossing the road. I left the Yukon for the Northwest Territories. The flight from Whitehorse to Yellowknife exchanged vertical country for a horizontal landscape: a flat, flat land. Whitehorse, in mountain-ous country, has few buildings over three stories; Yellowknife, in a terrain that scarcely undulates, is full of high-rise buildings. So do we mark in our architecture our estimates of ourselves and our relationship to the land. The short Yukon spring, when all the trees came out in leaf during one afternoon, also vanished. I flew to Victoria Island, well north of the arctic circle, where there are no trees. It was snowing at Coppermine and Cambridge Bay, the snow flung horizontal by the wind. The frozen bay and the tundra do not make for "beautiful country," but they are exhila-rating: some snow remains and there are occasional, new flowers close to the ground. I see it as keenly and as vividly as the jaguar I saw in a Guyanese village two years ago. The twenty-four-hour sunlight and the intricate flatness of the land, heaved up into flat-topped rock formations near Holman, enliven my tentative pres-ence in these astonishing places. Suddenly the tundra is a place for happiness.4 There is excited wonder at the native people leaving their 368 Review for Religious houses and going to live in "camp" or "on the land" as the win-ter subsides, at the sleds, skidoos, and boats lining the bay and half covered in snow, the profusion of dog lines. There are the inviting enigmas of the snow and ice (color coded like the houses, where the color gives information about origin and ownership), the wreck of Amundsen's Maud. I walk by houses in spaces which are hardly streets, greeting and being greeted, enjoy the camps, am on holy ground. People here do not live "off the land" like Europeans on safari in what became African colonies; they live "on the land." Certainly they do not have "a place in the country." Marie Zarowny, interviewing the Dene and Inuit peo-ple about their political, economic, social, and cultural concerns, found that these were, for the people, inseparable from spirituality: "We are deeply spiritual and our spiritual power comes from the land . Our spirituality is tied in with the animals.''s I found, in this land of the Copper Eskimos,6 a desire for a project, a Gospel activity, and began to sense something of what it might be as I w.alked the tundra, cut inland by the lakes and pancake-topped striated banks, as I prayed in 'the mornings. It is to live and explore the belief that God in Christ is active in the middle of' our creativity and destructive-ness-- and to do so partly in terms of neglected areas of Ignatius's Spiritual Exercises. The context for this would be ecumenical. The people involved most likely would be marginal in ecclesiastical and social terms. Maybe something of this could be said in pub-lic language. I imagine a thin book as sharp, bright, and useful as a razor. The idea is not new. What is new is the tangibility given an idea by the land. The book does not itself matter. What counts is the invitation to live and move in this way. So much is a possible event, the gift that is also a product of looking and sit-ting with ignorance, of listening and friendliness. It is frail but real. Cautious at first, a caribou crosses the trail and moves off across the tundra, splashing through the meltwater and covering the bare ground and remaining patches of snow at a determined trot. An arctic hare appears, each hair individual and alive, crouches down ten feet away, and remains still, long-eared, and eye to eye. What mattered were walks along the banks of the Yukon River, taking care to identify the ducks. May-June 1992 369 I fly south of the arctic circle to Yellowknife, for two weeks in the parish--weeks full of conversations. Then I go on to Fort Smith, by the Alberta border, for a similar two weeks. It is good to sit by the Rapids of the Drowned on the Slave River watching the pelicans, the birds clearly at home in the spilling and swirling waters. Living "on the land" spoke of ways of living in the United Kingdom. Waiting for the looked-at and walked-over landscape to disclose itself speaks of a wider connectedness, a solidarity. I remember the six Jesuits and two women murdered in E1 Salvador on 16 November 1989. Later I fly north again, north of the cir-cle, to Inuvik. There I wonder once more about space and people: the Northwest Territories are larger than Western Europe and have a population of about 55,000. I do not know what this con-trast might mean or what it is to populate or overpopulate the land. In a short while I will exchange these huge and empty spaces for my own overcrowded little island, where every piece of land seems like an archaeologist's find. Meanwhile there is the Mackenzie delta to see--the delta of the Decho, to use the Dene name--and the small settlement of Arctic Red River to visit. But sabbatical time is running out. When I arrive back in England I will have spent some four months never passing more than two weeks at a stretch in any one place. Afterwards It is usual to say that those who travel undertake an inner journey as well as an outer journey. Covering distance, when the travel is a pilgrimage, is a metaphor for a change of mind and heart. Explorers explore also themselves and their own cultures. Similarly the landscape, the land on which we put our feet and live, is an exterior landscape which affects and is affected by our interior landscape. Barry Lopez, contemplating the "bleak and forsaken" aspect of Pingok Island in the Beaufort Sea, writes: The prejudice we exercise against such landscapes, imag-ining them to be primitive, stark, and pagan, became sharply apparent. It is in a place like this that we would unthinkingly store poisons or test weapons, land like the deserts to which we once banished our heretics and where we once loosed scapegoats with the burden of our transgressions.7 Happiness, however, had been given on the undistinguished tundra. The "land" had become a metaphor, a mnemonic, partly 370 Review for Religious learned and partly obscure, which held attractive promise. This was not distant from the care of the land in the Old Testament sabbatical tradition; it was close, also, to the concern for people and society, for the excluded, which is integral to that tradition. The landscape of Victoria Island and the Decho had reminders, in the oil storage tanks needed for winter warmth, of a different economy, other concerns. The land-scape would also include the cityscape, the interre-latedness and demands of first-world economies. Desire and fear both go into the making of cities and are evoked by the complexity and coloration of their shapes, just as they affect and are evoked by our perception of the land. The city includes and excludes, vivifies and oppresses--and needs as much care in its contemplation as does the tundra in the arctic and the mountains of the Yukon, as much set-ting of ourselves not to turn away. In the city, in our quotidian economies, the invitation is the same: to look steadily, to sit with ignorance, to trust the friendliness, to find, in this also impossible terrain, the outlines of the kingdom as drawn in the few "remembered" words of Jesus. Back in England, in Birmingham, there are vivid memories of smokehouses and camps, mountains and snow, the tundra and the frozen sea, mosquitoes and black flies, the particular people and their traditions. The coffee-lubricated conversations continue to echo. The tundra, I think, was easier to look at than Birmingham. But the tundra invites a fuller regard for my own place, these islands off the coast of Europe, and speaks of new possibilities. The landscape of the Yukon speaks of hoping for what is more and larger than is admitted in other, more usual, locations. Solidarities beckon in a welcoming fashion. A sabbatical is a way of returning to one's own place. The difficulty of all this is clear: "The differ-ing landscapes of the earth are hard to know individually. They are as difficult to engage in conversation as wild animals.''8 Nonetheless, to think of a world without wilderness is to be full of disquiet. For wilderness--living "in the land"--was integral to Milford and Cambridge, and is part and parcel of where I am now and where we all are. Explorers explore also themselves and their own cultures. May-June 1992" 371 Notes ~ In what follows on parables, I am indebted to James Crampsey, "Look at the Birds of the Air ." The Way, 31, no. 4 (October 1991): 286-294. 2 John Macmurray, Persons in Relation (Adantic Highlands, New Jersey; first published by Faber and Faber, London, 1961), p. 171. 3 Thomas Lobsinger OMI, Bishop of Whitehorse, and Denis Croteau OMI, Bishop of Mackenzie-Fort Smith--to whom I am very grateful. The Yukon and Northwest Territories are ordinarily a Jesuit-free zone. 4 A time of happiness, if not frequent, is at least commented on often enough for it to be by no means unique in this kind of terrain. See, for example, P. G. Downes, Seeping Island (Saskatoon: Prairie Books, 1988). The happiness contrasts with, but is not provoked by, the harshness of the country. Imprisoned by "a relentless wind of eight days fury," Downes is told by his partner "You do not 'hope' in this country; you do not hope, you just do the best you can" (p. 63). An explanation is given in a foot-note: "What he means is that 'hoping' is a passive state, and that you must be physically and mentally active in this type of situation." This seems also about right when hoping in God. s Marie Zawowny, "You Can Help Us to Become Strong Inside: Discerning the Direction of the Church with the Dene and the Inuit," Insight: A Resource for Adult Religious Education, no. 4, 1991, National Office of Religious Education, Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops. 6 "Copper Eskimo" was the phrase I heard. Local people do not always use the the more favored general name, Inuit--"the people." A fine account of life with the Inuit of the area is given in Raymond de Coccola and Paul King, The Incredible Eskimo: Life among the Barren Land Eskimo (Hancock House, 1989). The work was first published by Oxford University Press, New York, in the early 1950s under the title Ayorama; the new edition is fuller and uncensored. 7 Barry Lopez, Arctic Dreams: Imagination and Desire in a Northern Landscape (Picador, 1987), p. 255. See also the chapter "Landscape and Narrative" in his Crossing Open Ground (New York: Vintage Books, 1989). 8 The continuation of the quotation noted in n. 7 above. 372 Review for Religious PHILIP L. BOROUGHS Using Ignatian Discernment work, ministry, or living arrangements. Diminishing energy, feel-ings of boredom or of being taken for granted, or an emerging desire for new challenges can signal a need to reappraise one's situation. Obviously, these times of transition are unsettling, and they can be stressful as one begins to let go of the security of the familiar and searches for new clarity and direction. However, these periods also can generate new possibilities and a renewed sense of responsibility for one's life. At times such as these, the Serenity Prayer of Alcoholics Anonymous seems particularly appropriate: "O God, grant me the courage to change the things that I can change, the serenity to accept the things that I cannot change, and the wisdom to know the difference." Sometimes circumstances warrant a fun-damental change in one's life, while at other times a change of attitude or behavior seems mor4 appropriate. As one critically reviews his or her situation and assesses available options, one wisely might wonder whether there are any norms or principles to help one choose among the options. In the Spiritual Exercises St. Ignatius of Loyola offers a num-ber of principles for discernment which can be extremely useful for those entering into a time of transition. One of the major goals of the Exercises is to assist those who Philip L. Boroughs SJ may be addressed at 621 17th Avenue East; Seattle, Washington 98122. May-June 1992 373 Boroughs ¯ Using Ignatian Discernment undertake them to make the right life choices. The principles of discernment reflect Ignatius's own experience of prayerful decision making, and a brief review of the major transitions in his life will offer a context for his insights. Ignatius's Life On 20 May 1521 Ignatius was wounded in the battle of Pamplona, and in the long recuperation period which followed, a fundamental reorientation of his life began. Over the next sev-eral months, as he contemplated his future, Ignatius became aware of different interior movements affecting him. Gradually he rec-ognized the patterns of these interior movements, noting that certain spirits or desires produced peace and hope while others, which initially delighted him, eventually left him sad and depressed. As a result of these fluctuations, Ignatius decided to fol-low the spirit or direction which ultimately consoled him, and thus his religious quest began in earnest. Abandoning his life as a soldier and courtier, he moved to Manresa and formally commenced a spiritual journey which grad-ually helped him to identify and understand his limits and dis-oriented attachments as well as his deepest dreams and desires. After months of intense prayer and penance, mystical experiences, and interior growth, he embarked on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. There he hoped to spend his life visiting the holy places and help-ing souls. However, after he had been in Jerusalem only nineteen days, the Roman Catholic authorities ordered him to leave. The political climate was tense, and they did not want to assume lia-bility for this questionable religious enthusiast. Accepting their legitimate authority over him, Ignatius con-cluded that it must not be God's will that he remain in Jerusalem. He decided that he needed further education if he were to serve God's people in some other capacity. He returned to Spain and began studying grammar at the University of Barcelona. Two years later he advanced to study the humanities at Alcalfi. After many months, however, his austere lifestyle and his growing rep-utation as a lay spiritual director caused such controversy that he was investigated by the Inquisition. Mthough exonerated of any wrongdoing, he was forbidden to continue his spiritual ministry. Consequently he moved to the University of Salamanca. There the same pattern was repeated, and once again he had to revise his 374 Review for Religious plans. Ignatius then transferred to the University of Paris, where he spent the next seven years earning his bachelor's and master's degrees. These were intense years of study and spiritual ministry, and they were also years when he gathered some lifelong com-panions who shared his ideals and his commitment to service. As his formal education drew to a close, Ignatius became seri-ously ill and was advised by his doctors to return to his native country to recuperate. He journeyed home with the understand-ing that he and his companions would reassemble in Venice once he had recovered. From there they hoped to gain passage for Jerusalem, where they would spend the rest of their lives in min-istry. Ignatius and his friends vowed to wait one year in Venice for passage to Jerusalem; but if they could not arrange their trip dur-ing that time because of political turmoil, they would travel to Rome and place themselves at the service of the pope. Since no ships left Venice for Jerusalem that year, they proceeded on to Rome in keeping with their vow. As their reputation for holiness and ministerial effectiveness spread, requests for their services began to arrive from various corners of the world, forcing this rather loose-knit group of friends to consider the nature of their commitment to each other. After weeks of prayerful deliberation, they decided to form a reli-gious community and elected Ignatius to be their religious supe-rior. Although he initially declined the position, subsequent prayer and consultation with his spiritual director moved him to accept. He spent the last fifteen years of his life as the superior general of the nascent Society of Jesus. During this time of rapid growth and development, Ignatius not only provided this new community with inspired leadership, but he also prayerfully drafted its con-stitutions. With the exception of his seven years at Paris and his final years in Rome, Ignatius moved fre.quently throughout his adult life. His constant effort was to discern and follow God's will within the social and historical realities of his time. A!though he was the recipient of many mystical graces, few of them provided him with specific instructions about the decisions he faced. Rather, these mystical experiences confirmed the general direction of his life and God's ongoing companionship with him. Decisions about particular choices he faced required prayer and discernment to discover God's will. Ignatius's early lessons in the discernment of spirits, his respect for human learning and reflectivity, and his May-~Tune 1992 375 Boroughs ¯ Using Ignatian Discernment courage to act once he felt he knew what God wanted of him facilitated his prayerful decision making during the numerous transitions of his life. Predispositions for Discernment Ignatius's religious experience and his Spiritual Exercises sug-gest that, if an individual wishes to enter into a process of dis-cernment in order to discover God's will, certain predispositions are necessary: interior freedom, sufficient knowledge of self and the world, imagination, patience, and the. courage to act respon-sibly. Without these graces, true discernment is not possible. Interior Freedom: The first paragraph of the Spiritual Exercises clearly asserts that interior freedom is a sine qua non for finding God's will: "We call Spiritual Exercises every way of preparing and disposing the soul to rid itself of all inordinate attachments and, after their removal, of seeking and finding the will of God in the disposition of our life for the salvation of our soul" (SpEx 1). When Ignatius speaks of ridding oneself of inordinate attach-ments, he can be very explicit. In the Meditation on the TWO Standards, he identifies inordinate attachments primarily as temp-tations to riches, honor, and pride (SpEx 142). Today we might describe them as an attachment to possessions or a specific lifestyle, a desire for recognition or a preoccupation with the opinion of others, and an insistence on being in control of one's life or radical self-sufficiency. Ignatius believed that attachments " ~uch as these would so condition one's life that one's relationship with God would be seriously compromised and one's freedom to find God's will would be lost. During times of transition in a person's life, other variations of inordinate attachments also can surface. For example, at the first sign of serious difficulty, some people immediately search for new living or work possibilities, fearful of the asceticism required for long-term commitments. Others, feeling misunder-stood and unvalued, find it easier to cling to chronic anger and bit-terness than to identify and address the source of these feelings and move to a more integrated life. Still others become so com-pletely preoccupied with their own personal growth that they ignore the legitimate needs of those whose lives are intercon-nected with theirs. Whatever form an inordinate attachment takes, 376 Review for Religious it can effectively inhibit the possibility of true discernment because it centers one's life in oneself rather than in God. Knowledge: True spiritual freedom or detachment depends on self-knowledge. More than just an understanding of one's limits or even one's patterns of temptation, self-knowledge requires a pro-found awareness of one's gifts and one's deepest desires. However, during times of transition, individuals frequently say that they do not really know what they want. This is often part of the initial unrest which introduces a need for change. But it also can be an invitation for individuals to reclaim their deepest desires, those essential values which give ultimate meaning to their lives, their relationships, and their involvement with the world. For example, when one becomes overwhelmed juggling the increasing demands of family and career, or exhausted by the mounting expectations of one's ministerial position, or seriously disillusioned by institutional intransigence, identifying again or reformulating one's deepest desires provides a starting point for making new choices. Articulating one's deepest desires helps one to prioritize commitments and can provide some perspective for letting go of tfiose concerns which jeopardize whfit is more impor-tant. Sometimes people come to realize that .they have to r~con-sider tfieir original life commitment because of s.ubsequent choices they have made over the years. Others may discern that their deepest desires have not changed, but their they have to find a new oi" healthier way of living them out. S~ill others may experi-ence a call to liv~ out their original commitment even more rad-ically. Reapp~:opriating one's deepest desires is a critical dimension of self-knowiedge. However, for Ignatius self-knowledge was not enough. He spent many years studying in some of the most respected univer-sities of his day and achieved an advanced degree in theology because he believed that education was a critical component for ministry. He even rediaced his intense spiritual activities during his university years because he discerned that his ex[ended prayer was interfering with his con~mitment to study. Ignatius emphasized education as a significant component in the formation of young Jesuits and as an important ministry of the Society of Jesus because through it he promoted the ongoing transformation of individu-als, church, and society. Consequently, not only knowing oneself, but also knowing the complexities of any given situation, pos- May-June 1992 377 Boroughs ¯ Using Iffnatian Discernment sessing a critical understanding of systems and structures, and having sufficient education for one's current ministry or some new possibility are critical dimensions of a discernment process. Imagination: Knowledge in concert with imagination can produce new possibilities. Ignatius clearly manifested an imaginative approach to ministry through the creation of the Society of Jesus and its novel structures and methods. He also used the power of imagination in his approach to prayer. Through an imagina

Issue 9.4 of the Review for Religious, 1950. ; ~uesfions Answered, Books I~evi~wed~ -Report~+o~om~ RI::VIi=W FOR Ri::LI IOUS VOLUME IX JULY, 1"950 NUMBER CONTENTS MEMOIR OF ALFRED SCHNEIDER~-Gerald Kelly, S.J . 169 THE "LITTLE" VIRTUES--Stephen Brown, S.J . 176 ADJUSTMENT OF NEGRO CHILDREN TO A MIXED PAROCHIAL SCHOOL--A Sister of the Holy Names 179 OUR cONTRIBUTORS . 184 ATTEND TO READING--Augustine Klaas, S.J . 185 BOOK REVIEWS-- St. Teresa of Jesus; Storm of Glory; Purgatory; Psychiatry and Asceti-cism . 197 BOOK NOTICES . 201 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 203 FOR YOUR INFORMATION-- Passionist Ghampion; Company of Mary; Servants of Mary; Little Office; Varia . 205 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 18. How to Fill the Water Cruet . ; . 207 19. The Perplexed Conscience . 207 20. Several Hosts to One Communicant . 208 REPORT TO ROME . 209 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, July, 1950. Vol. IX, No.,4. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, a~d November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Copyright, 1950. by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscfiptlon price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U. S. A. Before wr|t|ng to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. Memoir 6t:. All:red chneider Gerald Kelly, S.3. ~N OUR MARCH number (p. 112) we announced the sudden death of Father Alfred F. Sc, hneider, S.3. Shortly after this announcement a loyal friend of the Review wrote to us: "The notice about Father Alfred Schneider made'me make remembrance of him. Now I understand that note of gentleness and considerateness which I always found in his prompt and courteous replies." This note is typical of what scores of others might have written. During his years as editorial secretary Father Schneider carried on most of our editorial business with subscribers and authors; and the number of those who benefited by h'is prompt and kindly service is very large. These, we feel sure, would like to know more about him than we were able to put into a brief notice. Another reason for the present sketch is the value of Father Schneider to the Review itself.¯ We are not waxing poetic when we say that he brought us hope in our darkest hour. Our charter sub-scribers will remember that we had hardly launched this enterprise when war, with all its problems, was upon us. The war made it difficult to get materials and raised the price of such as were available. The war and the postwar period made such demands on college and seminary personnel that many priests and religious who would have helped us with articles had not the leisure. And this same shortage of personnel made it necessary for the editorial board to handle countless details for which they were not prepared. Despite the fact that we had the generous help of Jesuit scholastics and young priests, our early years were very dark. The difficulties just outlined grew in intensity through the early ¯ years of our publication until the middle of 1944. That was when Father Schneider brought relief. We do not wish to imply that, without him, we should have had to discontinue publication---only God knows that; but we can certainly say that his. help towards th~ continuance of this Review was immeasurable, if not absolutely essential. The following pages are not a "biography" of Father Schneider. For the most part they simply record the present writer's personal impressions gleaned through more than five years of intimate col-laboration with Father Schneider. These memories are supplemented, 169 GERALD KELLY Ret,qeto for Religious however, with data supplied by others and with a few facts obtained " from Father.Schneider's notes. Alfred F. Schneider was born in St. Paul, Minnesota, February 8, 1899. He was one of the oldest of a large family. He attended St. Agnes Grade School, took a two-year commercial course at St. Thomas College, and went to work. After several years of steno-graphic work in various business houses he became secretary to the President of the St. Paul-Minneapolis Street Car Company. During these years he managed to cover a regular high school course by attending night school. His business and stenographic experience was obviously an invaluable asset to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. He was an excellent typist, a good bookkeeper, and, of course, he knew shorthand. For myself, I found his shorthand both enviable and exasperating. Often I sat at my desk green-eyed as I watched him make notes with light-ning rapidity. Often, too, was I exasperated when I found on my desk a manuscript, the margin of which was covered with "hen scratches"--the common designation in our office for his shorthand notations. The exasperation, incidentally, did not end with his death. Some books he had been reviewing contained only a few scraps of paper covered with the "hen scratches"; and his retreat notes and personal notes, which I was privileged to examine, were scarcely more revealing. I am told that when he first considered the priesthood his thoughts were directed toward the diocesan clergy; later--for some reason contained perhaps in his shorthand legacy--they centered on the Jesuits. At the age of twenty-four he went to Campion College, Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin, to review his Latin and other studies. He entered the novitate at Florissant, Missouri, on August 8, 1924. In a Jesuit novitiate (and very likely in other novitiates) a man of twenty-five is considered a sort of patriarch. Regulations to th~ contrary notwithstanding, such men are often christened "Pop." Father Schneider was no exception to this contrary-to-regulations custom; he became Pop Schneider. Moreover, because of his com-paratively venerable age he was transferred to the Juniorate after having completed only one year of novitiate. Among us, these older novices who follow the Juniorate regime during their second year of noviceship are sometimes referred to as "skullcap Juniors." The origin of this expression seems to be that "once upon a time" ~he novices following the Juniorate order wore skullcaps to distinguish 170 July, 1950 MEMOIR OF ALFRED SCHNEIDER them from the ordinary novices, who had no special head covering, and from the full-fledged Juniors, who had taken their vows and were supposed to wear the biretta.' As amatter of fact, though there were several "skullcap Juniors" while I was at Florissant, I never saw a skullcap except on some venerable lay Brother. On the occasion of his first vows, August 15, 1926, the Juniors gave their "skullcap" confrere a grand reception; and his age did not prevent him from responding with as much warmth as would the youngest novice. In a letter to his parents, afte'r having expressed great joy o'~er his religious profession, he added: "I was the only ,lunio~? among the vow men and my fellow- Juniors gave me a specially warm reception. A huge bouquet of snowballs stood on my desk, and a smaller bouquet of other flowers; and then there were letters, and notes of congratulation, with little personal notes, and holy cards, so that when I sat down to read them I felt like a big business man opening his morning's mail. I believe that every Junior in the house had something for me. May God bless them all a thousand times for their kindness.''* His warmth was not confined to his fellow-Jesuits. In this same letter he very beautifully expressed his affection for and gratitude to his parents: "It would, of course, be impossible for me to tell you all that I felt or thought or did on, such a never-to-be-forgotten day as yester-day; but I don't want you to think for a moment that now I am wholly cut off from you. It is true I now belong to the Lord, but my love for the best father and mother in the world is not one whir diminished. The Lord would be ill-pleased with me were I ever to forget the big debt of gratitude that I owe you. It. is only too true that one does not appreciate father and mother.' until one is separated from them; and if I have not always shown you the love, respect, and gratitude that I owe you, I will try now to make up for it by my prayers and true love for you. So, do not think that in giving a son and daughter to Christ [one of his sisters is in the convent] that you are losing. No, Mother and Dad, you are gaining immeasur-ably; and I feel certa,¯ l,n that as the years roll o{n you wdl understand that more and more. 1During my tine at Florissant a "skullcap .lunior" named Peter A. Brooks took his vows. The ,lunlors decorated his desk not only with flowers but with a large sign bearing the words, "Peter Noster." Not so many y~ars later he became "Pater Noster" when he was made Provincial oi~ the Missouri P}ovince. As provincial, he obtained permission for us to start this Reoiet~ and asstste~ us with constant encour-agement during our early years. 171 GERALD KELLY Reoieto tot Religiotts The years did roll on. From 1927 to 1930, Father Schneide~ made his philosophical studies at Mount St. MichaeI's, near Spokane, Washington; from 1930 to 1932, he taught at Campion; and from 1932 to 1936, he made the course of theology at Woodstock Col-lege, Woodstock, Maryland. He was ordained at Woodstock in June, 1935. For the spiritual formation of a Jesuit tbd most important single period is the "Year of Third Probation," commonly called the ter-tianship. During this year, and especially during the long retreat which is made near the beginning of the year, one crystallizes the ideal that has been gradually forming during the preceding years of training. Father Schneider made his tertianship at Cleveland, Ohio, from the beginning, of September, 1936, to the end of June, 1937. For the most part, the spiritual notes made during his long retreat are "hen scratches"--absolutely unrevealing, as far as I am concerned; fortunately, however, the principal items of his ]Election are in long-hand. Among his personal needs he lists the "grace to be an exem-plary priest and Jesuit." That he received this grace and that he co-operated with it admirably would be the unhesitating testimony . of all who lived with him here at St. Mary's. Of very special interest is the fact that be considered human respect and indolence to be the principal obstacles in his pursuit of perfection. This item aptly illustrates the old saying that one never knows the true spiritual stature of a man unless he knows his "old Adam." During all the time I knew him I revered him as a man of principle and industry; and I feel sure that all the others in our office bad similar sentiments. We would not have suspected that he could ever seriously accuse himself of either human respect or indolence. If these vices represented his "old Adam," then in him the "new Adam" seems to have attained a complete victory. Afte'r tertianship Father Schneider was assigned to St. Mary's for two years of private study of canon law. The original plan had been to send him to Rome for a doctorate, but this had to be changed because of the condition of his health. In 1939 he began a series of rapid changes which included two years of teaching at St. Louis University, one year as assistant at the parish of St. Ferdinand's, Florissant, two more years at Campion, then back to St. Mary's in the fall of 1944 as editorial secretary of the Retffew. 'It was his health, not his temperament, that accounted for these many changes. An exceptionally talented man, as well as docile and co-operative, he 172 dulg, 1950 MEMOIR OF ALFRED SCHNEIDER would have been an asset to any college; but he was not strong enough to follow the regular schedule of a high school or college teacher. His assignment to the Reoiew was a b!essing to all concerned. For himself, the flexibility of his schedule allowed him to portion out his work according to his strength. For us, his varied talents made him the ideal secretary. Not only was he efficient at book-keeping, typing, and business details, as I have already mentioned; but his knowledge of theology and canon law, plus a generous endowment of good taste, made him an excellent judge of manu-scripts. Add to these the fact that he was a careful editor and proof-reader, and it is easily seen that his service to us was invaluable. His judgment that a manuscript should be rejected was always sympathetic and was never made without a second reading. But once made, his opinion was very definite; and he was no respecter of persons, not even of editors. (This may be one reason why I was amazed to discover that he had ever considered human respect to be one of his failings!) In my own files are several manuscripts which, in kedping with his suggestions, "await revision before publication." Attached to one of these manuscripts is a neatly typed note bearing this verdict: "The examples given in this article are of relatively rare occurrence in religious life. If you could add some that have more or less daily application, I should think it would enliven the article, especially the first part.---A.F.S., S.J." This is typical of his prac-tical criticisms; he always thought in terms of the readers. Efficiency in handling office details made it possible for him to go out fairly frequently to give retreats, Forty Hours' devotions, and days of recollection. He loved this work and seems to have done it remarkably well. His notes made for retreats, conferences, and ser-mons are filled, of course, with the inevitable "hen scratches"; but there are sufficient longhand and typed notations to indicate that everything was well planned. Moreover, reports were always favor-able. As one Sister superior put it, "He gave us an excellent retreat, one that we shall remember the rest of our lives." To this statement she added, "He reminded me of P~re Ginhac." This last remark referred not only to his solid spirituality, but also to his seriousness. Certainly his appearance was serious. He was tall (well over six feet), gaunt, more than semibald, dark-complexioned-- a perfect replica of the traditional, picture of the ascetic. And he was of serious disposition, too. A man who begins .173 GERALD KELLY Review For Religious each day with the realization that it may be his last is not prone to levity. But as he had the gravity of the saint, he also had the saint's sense of humor. By this Imean a keen and gentlemanly sense of humor. It did not respond to the crude or the unchaiitable, but it reacted instantaneously to the wholesomely amusing. He often com-plained to me that the Review tended to become too heavy, that it needed a lighter touch. He particularly liked the articles of our Fran-ciscan contributors, Father Claude Kean and Father Richard Leo Heppler, because of their cheerytone. In his last act of censorship for the Review he chuckled repeatedly while reading "Eyes Right?" by Father Richard Leo. The next day, scarcely ten minutes before we found him dead on the floor of the office, be was joking with Father Ellis. I have several times referred to the suddenness of his death. In one sense it was very sudden. Father Ellis and I left the office, leaving Father Schneider working at his desk. A few minutes later Father Ellis heard a crash, rushed back to the office, and found Father Schneider stretched out on the floor. Apparently he had left his desk to put something in a filing cabinet and as he turned back toward the desk he was stricken either by a heart attack or by a cerebral hem-orrhage. There was no sign of warning or of struggle; death must have come like the snap of a light bulb. Yet, in another sense, it was not sudden for him. Before he entered the Society a thyroid condi-tion had damaged his heart, and from the early days of his religious life he had known'that he had only a threadlike hold on life. At any moment,the thread might snap. Perhaps it was his coflsciousness of impending death that made him so orderly. His person, his room, his desk, his notes and accounts were always neatly arranged. His record of Mass intentions was kept with perfect clarity right up to the day of his death. During 1948-49 he had much extra work to do, especially in functioning as minister of this large house; and this forced him to get behind in balancing his office books. In the early weeks of 1950, despite very serious headaches, he worked assiduously to bring these accounts up to date. This was accomplished just a week or two before he died. As a boy, Father Schneider had loved sports; in the Society, however, his weakened heart prevented him from taking any active part in athletics. He showed his devotion both to baseball and to his brethren by assuming .the unattractive avocation of umpire. Later, 174 dulg, 1950 MEMOIR OF ALFRED SCHNEIDER even the umpiring had to-cease; but his interest continued. To the day of his death he could give with animation and precision the batting averages, pitching records, and so forth, of various teams and ~ndividuals over a long period of years. Another recreational taste cultivated in his youth was for good music. This, too, remained with him through the years; his occasional opportunities of listening to a broadcast of an opera or a ~symphony were a source of great joy to him. Looking back on the life of a friend, one can usually find many aspects under which to summarize the salient factors. One such gen-eral aspect of Father Schneider's life would be his maturity. He had a definite ideal of priestly and religious holiness and he strove methodically to attain it. He had a tendency to scrupulosity, but, at least in his later years, he was the master, not the slave, of this tendency. For the most part, he solved his own problems; when be needed advice be asked for it and followed it calmly. A man of strong likes and dislikes, as well as of vehement temper, he controlled these emotions in the interests of charity and of his own mental peace. He once told me that he had to be careful to read nothing about Communism in the late evening because such accounts usually made him angry and deprived him of needed ~leep. He adjusted admirably to the inconveniences and frustrations consequent to his illness. He was a good companion at recreation, especially a good listener; he was not the type to leave the little details that make for pleasant and efficient community living to "the other fellow." Another aspect under which I might summarize my impression of Father Schneider's life is suggested by Father Louis Hertling, S.3., in his manual of ascetical theology (Tbeologia Ascetica). In the last part of this book Father Hertling discusses the norms for heroic virtue described by Prosper Lambertini (later Benedict XIV) in his treatise on The Beatit~cation and Canonization of the Servants of God. According to Father Hertling, the pen picture of the saintly religious runs as follows: "He loves his own institute. He observes the rules, even the slightest. He keeps to his dell. He observes both juridical and real poverty. He is &hgent in carrying out his duties ~n rehglon. He ~s modest ~n exterior deportment. H~s separation from the world and worldly things is real. He is reverent towards diocesan priests and members of other religious institutes. He makes the spiritual exer-cises prescribed by rule. He is indefatigable in labor, but modest, and 175 STEPHEN BROWN Revieu~ for Religious without self-seeking.''2 To this list, I might add a few points given by Father Hertling in his sketch of the holy diocesan priest: reverence and earnestness in the things that pertain to divine worship; cultivation of theological knowledge; diligence in preaching and hearing confessions. I cannot say whether Father Schneider practised all these virtues of the priest and religious to a heroic degree; but I feel sure that in his final exam-ination on them be must have bad a very high grade. The "Lit:t:le" Vir!:ues Stephen Brown, S.J. IN SERMONS and various spiritual instructions we are ever hearing repeated those great words, Charity, Mortification, Hu-mility, Faith, Self-sacrifice, Perseverance, and the like. They have become so familiar that we are apt not to PaY attention to them, or, if we do, they awe us with the thought of the lofty vir-tues they stand for. But there are other virtues which the preachers do not so commonly preach about and which yet are worthy of thought. St. Francis de Sales used to call them the "little" virtues. Here is a characteristic passage from one of his letters: "Let us prac-tise certain little virtues proper to our littleness, virtues that are exer-cised rather by going down than going up, and therefore not so hard on our legs--patience, forbearance, service, affability, tolerance of our own imperfection, and.other similar little virtues.". If the great virtues seem too much for us, glorious ideals, no doubt, but so far away and so high above us, we may console our-selves with the thought that we can reach the same end by practising the "little" virtues. We are not called on every day to plank down ten-dollar bills or sign checks for I know not how many dollars. No, we pay our modest dimes or quarters, not disdaining even a copper or two, if more be needed. An hour may come, no doubt, in our lives when God will ask us for our little all. And then, no doubt, He will provide us with grace to make the sacrifice. But meantime we keep on paying our little daily installments. There are people who--if not in theory, certainly in practice-- 2The translation is not literal. 176 Ju!g, 1950 THE "LITTLE" VIRTUES make little of the little virtues. They are ready to be charitable, but in the meantime forget to be merely polite. There are others who have great respect, no doubt, for purity and chastity, but are not overparticular about ordinary modesty. And those are not unknown who practise mortification but on occasion are quite likely to insist on getting the best of what is going. There are even people who extol religion but deprecate piety. Yet it seems to me that a certain saying of Our Lord to the effect that "he that is faithful in that which is least is faithful also in that which is greater" (Luke 16:10) has an application here. And again: "W~I1 done, thou good servant, because thou hast been faith-ful in a little, thou shalt have power over ten cities" (Luke 19:17). We might take the great virtues one by one and descant on the little virtues that go to make them up. Humility is a formidable virtue. But we might begin with it by being modest about our own achievements or refrain from making the conversation turn about our merits. That doesn't seem too hard. Abnegation is a hard word, and no doubt a hard thing, but we might start by occasionally letting other people have their way. It is a little virtue without a name, this art of giving in--at all events, I cannot put a name to it. And so we might go on. But lest our thoughts become too scattered let us fix them for a moment on those "little" virtues that are the small change of charity. I have menti6ned politeness. It may be merely the outcome of good breeding--and wherever it comes from how welcome it is! But it may also be a real virtue. To say the least, as one writer puts it, in order to be holy it is not necessary to be boorish. A man may be actually a gentleman as well as a saint. To another little virtue, cordiality, St. Francis de Sales devotes one of his wonderful confer-ences. After explaining what he means by it, he says it ought to be accompanied by two other virtues, one of which may be called affability and the other cheerfulness. "Affability," he goes on, '~is a virtue which spreads a certain agreeableness over all the business and serious communications we have with one another; while cheerful-ness is that which renders us gracious and agreeable in our recrea-tions and less serious intercourse with one another." How much the one and the other might, and no doubt do, help to oil the wheels of life. St. Ignatius LoYola set value on these little virtues, for he objected to wrinkles on the nose. There is another modest little virtue well worthy of considera-tion, and that is considerateness. It is practised by the person who 177 not only remembers your existence but ac(ually avoid~ hurting your feelings or rubbing you the wrong way, as the saying goes. He refrain~ from needless noise (hearken all ye who live overhead!). He remembers the nerves of nervous people; he does not ask embarrassing questions, and abstains from comment where comment might be unkind or inopportune. It is the most unobtrusive of little virtues, and we are often unaware of it in other people. But we are only too well aware of the lack of it when it is absent. Politeness, urbanity, courtesy may be taken as practically synonymous. And then there is obligingness. Who does not like and value the obliging man? But, like all virtues, it must steer a clear course between extremes-~between grumpiness and disobligingnes, on the one hand, and subservience, not to say flunkeyism, on the other. And what of companionableness or sociability? What of helpfulness? What of tactfulness? They are all just aspects of charity-~charity as it works out in daily life. Nevertheless, besides the people who despise the little virtues through a delusion that they are practising the great ones, there are also people sincerely aiming at higher things who are apt to neglect these virtues as merely natural. Well, everything that is natural is not wrong, nor even negligible. God is the ~iuthor of nature as well as of grace. Man pervbrts it or wrests it to purposes of his own. Moreover, these virtues need not be merely natural. Motive or inten-tion can raise them to the supernatural plane. And the minor virtues that center round charity have a peculiar value of their own. They are social virtues: they concern not ourselves alone but those about us. They help to make life happier for both ourselves and them. And I think we may even say that they help to make us Christlike. Is there one of them that the Master did not practise, one of them that He would have thought beneath Him? And, after all, the littleness of these virtues lies not so much in themselves or their results as in the things and circumstances that occasion the practice of them--trifling words, looks, gestures, mere silences. They are virtues of meal time and recreation time, of the breakfast table, the fireside, and the bus. But they have echoes in heaven. [EDITORS' NOTE: This article is the introduction to what we hope will be a series of articles on "The Little Virtues" by Father Brown. For' another of his articles on a similar topic see "Concerning Patience," in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, "VII, 141.] 178 Adiust:ment: ot: Negro Children t:o a Mixed Parochial School A Sister of the Holy Names ST. JOACHIM'S was not always an interracial school. From its remote beginnings it had served a French national parish. When we first began to enroll the colored the very novelty of each isolated case brought the thrill of pioneering. Five years ago we eased into our present position by accepting Catholic colored children on a larger scale. Naturally others not of the faith sought admission. Some few, at the discretion of the principal, were admitted. Each year since then our colored enrollment has increased until this year seventy-five per cent of our student body is colored. Because we started with Catholic children we did not experience the same difficulties at first that we met later. There was some initial resentment shown by our white pupils but this soon changed to admiration. Now there is a calm and unquestioning acceptance of their biracial school. The very few families who transferred their children to other schools because of the change were no great loss. We Sisters of the Holy Names have several schools for colored children in Florida, as well as five missions in South Africa. But this was our first attempt at interracial education on a large scale. .Hor-rified gasps met our early efforts; but, perhaps to the disappointment of the scandalized, no major issue has yet arisen involving color. Nor, with the grace of God, will any arise. With no established precedent known to us, we have had to feel our way. The results have been happy. Let me begin with some don'ts. Never favor a colored child in the classroom. He wants to be treated like the others, not better. I'll always remember the first colored boy I taught. Everything he said or did seemed amusing, and I had difficulty suppressing my smiles. He soon took advantage of my good nature, occupying the limelight for the remainder of the year. The next year I treated him like the others and we both spent a more profitable year. Similarly, don't even seem to mistreat him. He is likely to assume that you're doing it because of his color. If he deserves punishment and under-stands why you are inflicting it, he will submit without difficulty. But you have lost a friend if he suspectsyou of partiality on the basis 179 SISTER OF THE HOLY NAMES Revtew for Religious of color. Be fair, then, in meting out punishment. If two or more are involved, punish all or excuse all. This may seem obvious. We have a classic incident here which we refer to as the Davis Incident. Mr. Davis, a Negro, is a World War I veteran, a man who married late in life and has a philosophy of life all his own. He is moreover very strict with his children and wants to co-operate with the school in every way. Last year a new white family, the 2osephs., moved into the neighborhood. The children came to our school. Instead of going home one day at dismissal time,, Davis Junior and Joseph Junior chased each other up and down the church steps. Both boys were taken to the school "court" where the Patrol Boys arraign those who disobey school ordinances. The Sister in charge, seeing 2oseph Junior in heart-melting tears, excused him. It was his first offense, and she knew he wouldn't do it again. Davis Junior, on the other hand, was awaiting his punishment like a man. He had been to our school for a full year: therefore he should have known better. Hence, a penance for Davis. That night Mr. Davis held his own court in the convent parlor with the Sisters as accused. He insisted that it was only just either to punish both boys or to excuse both. "But the other boy is new and not familiar with the school customs," we hedged. "All the more reason for punishing both to prevent further breaches," came the relentless reply. After much discussion, Mr. Davis very touchingly ended with, "If you don't punish the white boy (God bless you, Sisters), please don't punish mine." Don't be antagonistic. If you don't like the colored and can't treat them fairly, ask to be changed. Naturally very sensitive, they resent the slightest tendency a teacher may have to dislike them. Per-sonally, I have to think twice beford I list pupils as colored or white. I simply forget the color. They are all little ones to be encouraged, checked or admonished, urged, and taught; but never children of one race or another. Other Sisters tell me they have the same experience. Now for the positive side. Be strict but kind. Strictness will never be resented if they understand that it is for their own good. In most cases their parents are strict (we think sometimes too strict), but the fact remains that their children show a much higher respect for the parents than do the white children we have at present. Of course we must keep in mind that the pupils we teach come, for the most part, from the poorer homes. ¯ There are four large well-equipped public schools within walking distance. In spite of this fact, the parents make great sacrifices to keep their children with u~. dut~,1950 INTERRACIAL SCHOOL ADJUSTMENT As' one earnest mother put it: 'TII work my fingers to the bone before I'I1 be so foolish as to take my boy out of St. Joachim's." Another non-Catholic mother who works nights to pay the fees answered her employer, when be endeavored to persuade her to send her children to'the public school: "As far as I can judge, the Catholic school is giving the better education. The best is none too good for them. If I have to stop eating, they will go to the Catholic school." School standards must be set high and maintained. Nothing mediocre will suffice. Colored parents want for .their children what they have never had: a solid religious education. Though theyhave little.respect for easily-won laurels, they s6metimes expect miracles once their children are in our hands. In this connection a strange (or perhaps not so strange) fact merits attention here. Many chil-dren have come to us from special classes for ungraded pupils in the public schools. (I have five such in my own class.) All, without exception, show a marked improvement. ,We have found that they can learn, in some cases as well as or better than the average pupil. One was an inveterate truant. He has not missed a day of school since he came to us. Is it the personal touch? I don't know. Give plenty of homework. Most parents want to help their children and incidentally learn something themselves. True, a few of them are college graduates. Several more have gone through high school. But the majority have had nothing more than an inter-mittent schooling in the "South." Most home backgrounds are therefore apparently not conducive to scholarship. Yet our colored pupils lead their white classmates in scholastic achievement in every grade. We have found it preferable to enroll new colored students in the lower grades only. They are more amenable, at the age of five or six, to discipline and training than they are when they enter a Cath-olic school for the first time in their early teens. Invariably, non- Catholic pupils accepted for the upper grades are problems. They come with their attitudes fixed and their characters strongly devel-oped along paths that conflict with our teaching aims. Consequently, only Catholic children are accepted into the school for the higher grades; the lower grades are open to all who satisfy the entrance requirements. After two or three year~ with us, these children are more docile to our teaching, their behavior is decidedly improved, and their wholesome outlook on life is reflected in the family" circle. Many parents ask to take religious instructions or are importuned by their children to do so within a year or two. 181 SISTER OF THE HOLY NAMES Reoiew t~or Religious Among the fine qualities which we have had abundant oppor-tunity to admire in our colored people, I'd stress their co-operation, their cleanliness (in spite of their tremendous housing difficulties), their high ideals, and last, but certainly not least, their attraction to and love of things spiritual. Never have we received from our white pupils the co-operation and encouragement which the colored have given. Last fall we needed window shades in our classrooms. Those shades which we could pull down either stayed down or came down altogether. Some windows had none to pull down. The mothers of our colored pupils were invited to discuss the matter. They came, nearly every one, conducted the meeting in.parliamentary style~ spon-sored a very successful party, and really amazed us. We now have new window shades on every window in every classroom. Colored parents follow the behavior and the studies of their chil-dren very closely. They frequently telephone or stop a minute after school hours to find out how Isaiah or Donna is progressing. The bimonthly report is not just another card to sign but a meaningful record which both parents and pupils take seriously. Suppose Wood-row is not behaving properly: a note to his mother sets him right. Should Dorsilla become negligent in her studies, a phone call brings results. Thirty of my forty-five pupils are colored. I find my most care-ful workers among them. Boys especially surprise me by their atten-tion to details, their striving for perfection. They would rather not hand in any paper than one that is poorly written or has a mistake on it. On the whole, I have found them clean and neat physically as well as morally. Of course there are some who are untidy, but they are the exception. The colored have high ideals. Their standards are set for the best in everything; such at least is my experience. That is one reason why our Catholic faith appeals so strongly to them. Some of the parents have made mistakes in their own lives; they are eager to fielp their children avoid the pitfalls into .which they themselves have fallen. They see and appreciate the difference between the behavior of the public-school children and our pupils (speaking again of our own neighborhood). Therefore they make untold sacrifices to insure the best training, the best instruction, the best education for their dar-lings. They are not living aimlessly. They have ambitious futures outlined. The children themselves are imbued with their parents' high ideals. You would perhaps be surprised to hear these poor people express 182 19.50 INTERRACIAL SCHOOL ADdUSTMENT their religious opinions. They are hungry for God. They are seeking not a "revival" religion but one that is solid, secure, and authoritative. One family, whose children were among our first Catholic colored pupils, boasts two altar boys. These boys refused so absolutely to go to a public school that thei~ mother was obliged to send them to St. Benedict the Moor's boarding school in Mil-waukee. There they were baptized and made their first Holy Com-munion. The following year they came to us. The older bo3~, a senior altar boy now, is fidelity personified. He serves the nine o'clock Mass every Sunday, rain, snow, or sunshine. He is an honor student at the Catholic high school he attends. Both boys are fre-quent communicants. And all this, despite the fact that neither mother nor stepfather is Catholic. An aunt who teaches in a special school in New York, also a non-Catholic, made several trips West to assure herself of her nephews' educational progress. Each time she has expressed her admiration and appreciation of Catholic education. Could you but come and see for yourself how nonexistent are the bogeys of interracial education, my explanations would be needless. In class, as well as in church, no distinction is made in seating. Side byside they learn their lessons, say their prayers, play their games. Side by side, too, they bear Mass, receive Holy Communion, and serve at the altar. In instructing the many parents who seek bap-tism, the priests in charge of our parish believe in the "slow but sure" adage. They try the perseverance and constancy of their catechumens before baptism. How fervent these colored converts are. Yes, a very few grow careless with the years: but of course as much can be said of our lifelong Catholics. Many of our newly-converted colored families move to better neighborhoods. Yet, some of the children continue to come to our school, although it means coming halfway across the city by bus or streetcar. Others enroll in the nearest Catholic school; the same school might have refused them entrance a year before. It is our consolation to know that they still receive a Catholic education in their changed circumstances. We plant, others water; but God gives the increase. Our first fully-interracial' graduation took place last year. All these graduates are at present in Catholic high schools. They .are continuing their Catholic education side by side with white students, partaking in all school activities on an equal basis. Now to give some general impressions. Some tendencies must be checked. But they are the tendencies which historians tell us are 183 A SISTER OF THE HOLY NAMES manifested by any minority group. Those who sigh over the diff-culties of our present-day teaching efforts forget the very real diffi-culties they encountered a few years ago with o, tber minorities. Besides, every authority recognizes that the already difficult task of teaching has been made doubly hard by the weakening of family dis-cipline, The undesirable traits which I mention are not monopolized by our colored brethren. Fighting, for instance. Resentment. In-feriority complex. These have to be checked rigorously and sen-sibly. We rarely experience difficulties in this regard between the races. Usually it is the colored who quarrel among themselves (or the white as the case may be). Name-calling is unheard of between white and colored. By taking these youngsters in the lower grades, we are succeeding, with the invaluable aid of parents and priests, in teaching them to live peaceably with one another; to regard all men (even if all men do not so regard them) as friends and brothers: to face their difficulties with courage, confident that with God's help they can succeed here and hereafter. We have iiadustrious pupils and lazy ones, bright ones and dull, quick and slow, polite and thoughtless. But these categories are no respecters of color. Racial tensions develop not in school but in the homes where an older generation, grown fearful, sows the seeds of strife and disunion. With us, the teachings of the Church are fearlessly taught. Non- Catholics are expected to take part in. all religion classes. What a beautiful object lesson a colored altar boy can be as, paten in hand, he serves the priest at the Communion rail. It is with no mere mouthing of fine phrases that we teach the lesson that a compassion-ate Christ taught: His love for all men; that He died for all: that black, brown, yellow, and white, we must love one another as He has loved us. How much better our pupils understand this when they look around and see boys and girls of every shade of brown treated the same as those born white. The. best way to get information on interracial education is to see such a school in action. OUR CONTRIBUTORS GERALD KELLY and AUGUSTINE KL,~AS are members of the faculty at St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. STEPHEN 2. BROWN is a professor at the National University of Ireland, Dublin. 184 Aid:end !:o Reading Augustine Klaas, S.J. 44ATTEND to reading," St. Paul long ago advised Timothy t~ (I Tim. 4:13). By this admonition bishops--and pre-sumably priests, too, since they should be imitating their bishops--are counseled to peruse the Holy Scriptures for spiritual reading. Religious are given to understand the importance of spiritual reading by some of the Fathers of the Church, for example, by St. Jerome, who in his own peculiar way urges Eustochium, a Roman virgin seeking perfection in the nearby convent at Bethlehem, to "let ~leep steal over you holding a book, and let the sacred page receive your nodding head." So necessary for his monks did St. Benedict consider daily reading of the Holy Scriptures and of other spiritual works that he used to send two of the brethren around to check on them strictly during this exercise, for he considered such reading the living spring whence flowed the streams of prayer. This can be said to be the general tradition of religious communities from the earliest times down to the present. While it it true that the cur-rent canon law regarding religious does not mention it explicitly, spiritual reading is certainly included under the heading ~f the "other practices of piety," which superiors must see that their subjects per-form daily (canon 565). As a matter of fact, the constitutions of almost all religious orders and congregations approyed by the Holy See prescribe specifical!y at least a quarter hour of daily spiritual reading or its equivalent, whether in private or in common. Today the laity are becoming increasingly aware of the need of spiritual reading fo~ advancement in prayer and virtuous living, and they are'making use of it more and more. These readers of spiritual books are usually yearly retreatants, active sodalists, and the militants of Catholic Action, but there are many others also. Even non- Catholics are helping in a surprising way to make certain Catholic spiritual books nation-wide best-sellers. I Spiritual reading is not just any sort of reading. It is not casual reading as of a newspaper, novel, or poem. Neither is it "heavy" reading, as of scientific, historical, or philosophical works. It is not 185 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Review [or Reli~lious reading for esthetic pleasure, literary appreciation, historical infor-marion, scientific acumen, or doctrinal erudition: at least, such is not the primary purpose of this kind of reading. What, then, is it? It is the reading of Holy Scripture, spiritual books, lives of Christ, of the Blessed Virgin, and of the saints, not so much for knowledge or for some other similar purpose as for moral improvement, for progress in the spiritual life. Spiritual reading is directed to the will rather than to the intellect; it aims more at the heart than at the head. It seeks principally to stir up the affections, move the will, and produce virtuous action. Father Alvarez de Paz gives the classi-cal definition: "Spiritual reading is perusing the pages of Holy.Scrip-ture or the books of the holy Doctors, not so much"that we may know, but rather that we may advance in spirit, learn the will of God; and do it." Elsewhere be calls it spiritu~al reading when we seek in spiritual books "not only the knowledge but much more the relish ~and love of spiritual things." In some ways the reading of a spiritual book has distinct advan-tages over listening to a sermon or exhortation, having a conference with a religious superior or spiritual guide, or discussing spiritual matters in private conversation with a friend. Verba votar~t . Spoken words easily come and go. The printed word is far more permanent and tends to produce a more lasting effect, since what is printed can be reread, pondered, prayed over, and thoroughly assimi-lated. Without strain or too much distraction the last drop of goodness can be leisurely distilled from it. Books, too, can be fearless informants of faults and defects, while preachers, superiors, and equal~ will sometimes bestitate to speak out, and indeed at times they may not be able to do so. Also, the preacher or counselor may be lacking in the special knowledge required for one's particular case; he may be mediocre, or even downright incompetent, whereas one can always choose one's spiritual reading, adapted to personal, needs, from the Holy Scriptures or the latest encyclical of the Pope, from the spiritual masters, .such as Augustine, Chrysostom, and Basil; across the crowded centuries to Marmion, Meschler, and Leen. M~reover, a spiritual book is a precious thing in itself. The Psalmist says (11:7): "The utterances of the Lord are holy utter-ances, silver tested by fire." Spiritual reading often contains latent power similar to that so impressively noted by the two disciples on the road to Emmaus: "Was not our heart burning within us whilst he spoke to us on the way, whilst he laid open to us the Scriptures?" (Luke 24:32.) And Christ tells us: "The words that I have spoken 186 dul~,1950 ATTEND TO READING to you are spirit and life" (John 6:64). And St. Paul: "For what-soever things were written aforetime were written for our instruc-tion, that through patience and through the comfort of the Scriptures we may have hope" (Rom. 15:4). According to the Holy Books themselves, the Scriptures are truth, fire, a lamp, a hammer, the sword of the spirit, an infinite treasure for men; they convert souls, give wisdom to little ores, enlighten the mind, and .rejoice the heart. What Holy Scripture here says of itself applies also in great part to ill spiritual books worthy of the name. II Undoubtedly spiritual reading is a powerful force for salvation and perfection. How many, like St. Justin, have ascribed to it their conversion to the true religion? St. Eugenia was converted by reading the Epistles of St. Paul; St. Domna by reading the Acts of the Apostles. St. Augustine attributed his moral conversion to spiritual reading. Already convinced intellectually of the true faith, he was still struggling with his unruly passions and perverse will, trying to break with his sinful past, when one day he heard the voice of a child sing-songing in a nearby house: "Tolle, lege," "Tolle, lege," "Take up and read." He recalled that the great St. Antony had been converted to a life of perfection by the chance hearing of the Gospel text: "Go, sell what thou hast, and give to the poor; and thou shalt have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me." So Augustine eagerly took up the New Testament, opened it at random, and read from St. Paul's.epistle to the Romans (13:13-14): "Not in revelry and drunkenness, not in debauchery and wantonness, not in strife and jealousy: But put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and as for the flesh, take no thought for its lusts." These words sent streams of light into his mind, warmth to his affections, and strength into his will. Then and there he broke with his sinful past forever. Cen-turies later Ignatius Loyola likewise found in spiritual reading a powerful stimulus to a better life. While recuperating from battle wounds at his ancestral castle he asked for some light reading, some romantic tales, to speed the tedious hours. None could be found ar the moment, so he had to content himself with reading the life of Christ and some saints' biographies. This re.ading, begun with reluc-tance, together with God's grace, initiated a revolutionary change in his whole !ife and started him on the road to sanctity. Augustine and Ignatius are not isolated instances. Countless men and women, of all states of life, have had the course of their moral and spiritual 187 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Review for Religious life changed for the better by reading the Scriptures and other spir-itual books. ¯ Hence it is not surprising that ascetical masters have been lavish in pointing out in detail the various effects produced by earnest spir-itual reading. Here are some of. the. things they say. It shows us our faults as in a mirror, warns of tempt.ations and helps to overcome them, gradually purifies the,,soul from: sin,, and, makes,,the.,,sense of sin ever more and more delicate. It is also a source of nourishment for the soul, since it feeds the soul with salutary truths, which hre its solid and substantial food, and thus plants wisdom. It disposes us for meditation, then enkindles and feeds the fire of prayer and con-templation; indeed, it is truly the "oil for the lamp of prayer." Or, to change the figure with St. Basil: prayers are the sinews of the soul, but the sinews of prayer are spiritual reading. Also, if prayer has gone. badly in the morning, reading can make up for it to a great exterit later in the day. It deepens faith, hope, charity, and all the virtues, stimulates to fervor and devotion, arouses the affections, and strengthens the will. St. Ambrose remarks that just as monks in winter make for the fire, so must we throw off the chill of the world by reading which kindles our love for God. Moreover, r~ading urges to emulation. Did not the youthful Teresa of Avila, on reading the vivid accounts of the early martyrs, immediati.'ly run off to martyr-dom, taking h~r little brother along? Fortunately they did not get very far on their way to Africa but were promptly fetched back home! Little by little spiritual r~ading produces deep interior peace, delight in God, contempt for the world and worldly things; it gives us to taste and experience how sweet is the Lord. It also stirs up apostolic zeal and can be very useful for the apostolate, since it indirectly supplies material for sermons, religion classes, spiritual guidance, and conversation. On the negative side, it prevents wasting precious time on books, magazines, and newspapers of little or no value to religious. In a word, it helps greatly toward making religious spiritually mature. No wonder, then, that so many saintly persons of the past were devoted to spiritual reading. Did not Our Lord Himself read from the Holy Scriptures in the synagogue? St. Augustine says that Our Lady was reading the prophecies of Isaias concerning the future Mes-sias when the angel appeared to her to announce that she was to be the mother of the Redeemer. The servant of Queen Candace was reading Isaias when the Holy Spirit sent the apostle Philip to baptize him. It is significant that the office of reader is a minor order in the 188 July, 1950 ATTEND TO READING Church. How the Iectio dit~ina was treasured in the early Church and by the monastic orders down the years! St. Dominic made great progress in holiness by constantly reading the C'onferer~ces of Cassian, and St. Thomas Aquinas by reading and rereading the Fathers of the Desert and the Fathers of the Church. In this way St. Je~:ome finally broke his inordinate attachment to the pagan classical authors. And didn't St. Teresa cure herself of excessive novel-reading in much the same fashion? We can say without fear of contradiction that the saints universally practiced spiritual reading. I merely note tha~: St. Francis de Sales Used to read himself to sleep at night with z spiritual book, usually Scupoli's Spiritual Combat. He was evidently-following St. 3erome's advice. No wonder the spiritual masters chant the .praises of spiritual'_ reading. Thomas ~ Kempis says that a convent or monastery with-out spiritual books is a kitchen without vegetables, a table without: food, a well without water, a river without fish, a bag without: clothing, a garden without flowers, a purse without money, a vine-. yard without grapes, a tower without guards, a house without fur-. niture; and be adds in all simplicity: "From all these evils and'. injuries to the soul may the good Lord 3esus Christ deliver us, and'. may He be wholly in all now and forever. Amen." Speaking of his: monks, St. Hugh of Lincoln asserts that spiritual books were their arms in time of war, their occupation in times of peace, their support in time of trial, and their remedy in time of sickness. Perhaps Plus X is the most eloquent of modern recommenders of spiritual reading. What he says in his L~tter to Catholic Priestg about its apostolic and personal value can be applied also to religious. "Great progress is made by priests who persevere in this habit of reading; they preach Christ with unction; instead of enervating and distracting the minds and hearts of their hearers, they lead them .to better things, lifting up their souls to heavenly desires. For another reason, very profitable to you, beloved sons, St. 3erome's precept holds good: 'Let spiritual reading be ever in your hands.' Who does not know the very great influence exercised on the mind by a friend who advises freely, who counsels, rebukes, encourages and preserves from'error? 'Blessed is be that findeth a true friend' (Ecclus. 25: 12); 'He that hath found him, hath found a 'treasure' (Ecclus. 6: 14). Now spiritual books may be accounted as true and faithful friends. They remind u~ forcibly of the precepts laid down by authority concerning, true discipline, awaken in us the still small voices of Heaven, reprehend all falling away from resolutions, disturb 189 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Reoieu2 for Religious deceitful calm, expose less worthy affections and self-deception, and reveal the many dangers that lie in the path of the unwary. This they do with such uhobtrusive kindness that they prove themselves to be, not only friends, but the very best of friends. They are beside us whenever we please, ever ready to minister to our secret needs; their voice is never harsh, their counsel never biased, their utteraBces never deceitful or fainthearted." Ill Spiritual reading can be made in private or in common. It is done in common when one person reads and the others listen. Although this way of reading is practised and even prescribed by many religious communities and has certain obvious advantages, yet reading in common is by no means theideal. It is much less effective in procuring the principal purpose of this exercise, namely, virtuous will-action, chiefly because the personal element of the individual religious is not sufficiently taken into consideration. After all, each religious has his own personality, his own spiritual problems, needs. and so forth. What is pertinent for one may not be for another, and at the moment may even be harmful. Spiritual reading in common seems to be a carry-over from the days when books were scarce and perhaps illiteracy not unknown among religious. At any rate, it cannot compare with private spiritual reading, which is being adopted more and more by religious communities, certainly an adaptive move in the right .direction. However, if it must be done in common, the reader should be a capable one, who with suitable preparation tries to read slowly, distinct.Iy, and reflectively. Even where reading in com-mon is practised by rule, other free periods of the day can be profit-ably utilized for private spiritual reading, if only for a half or quar-ter hour. Spiritual reading in private should be done daily, if possible, and at a fixed time, when one is free from duties, and the surroundings are at least relatively quiet. Some find the chapel an excellent place for private spiritual readir~z. The reading should be preceded by a moment ot recollection and a short prayer or aspiration asking for light and grace to benefit by it. The aim should be to read little rather than much--multum rather than malta--and this should be done slowly, leisurely, so that the matter has a chance to sink into the soul like a gentle rain. The reading must be attentive, reflective, ruminative. A wise old laybrother, on the way to spiritual reading, used to say: "Let us chew the cud; unless a sheep chews the cud, it 190 Jul~,1950 ATTEND TO READING will never grow fat." Hence, a pause from time to time, a pause to think, to pray, to meditate, to listen, for St. Augustine says, "When you pray, you speak to God; when you read, God speaks to you." Should we not listen to Him? An old spiritual writer counsels doing what chickens do when they drink water: they take a sip and then look up to. heaven, and keep repeating the process. When we come to something that strikes us, that stirs the affec-tions, we must stay there, read it over and over again, savor it, per-meate it with prayer and aspirations, even make a note of it for future reference. In this way we shall be like the prophet Ezechiel who was told to eat a book, not to swallow it whole; and then like him we ~oo shall find the book "sweet as honey" in the mouth (Ezech. 3:1-3). Such reading will produce fruit, thirty, sixty, and a hundred-fold, provided we understand, absorb, penetrate, realize, and apply to ourselves what we read. It will make us put on Christ, put on Our Blessed Lady, put on Paul, put. on David, put on all the saints and holy ones of God. Ascetical writers say: Read, not with a view to finding fault, but with a deep spirit of faith. It is so easy to be hypercritical and unfair, like spiders distilling venom where bees sip only sweet nec-tar. Read with humility. That is what h Kempis says: "If you wish to make progress, read humbly." Do not be frightened by the style, especially of the old masters; it is something quite secondary, if not unimportant, for our purpose. Persevere, too, and do not flit superficially from book to book. A sick man will never be cured if be merely browses about among the medicine bottles. IV What to read? We are not concerned here with the reading of spiritual books taken in an improper or analogous sense, though undoubtedly it has great advantage for the interior life.' Such, for example, is reading the book of nature. The writer recalls once travelling with a Cistercian abbot on a train going through the Swiss Alps. The mere sight of those snow-covered peaks bathed in sun-light seemed to take the contemplative abbot right out of this world, up to the beauty and grandeur of God. Many of the saints read the book of nature assiduously. Who does not recall Ignatius Loyola contemplating the stars; Francis of Assisi, the birds, animals, Brother Sun, find Sister Moon; Joseph of Cupertino striking the flowers with his cane to 'keep their beauty from sending him into an ecstasy; Teresa of Avila devoutly pondering the waters of fountains, brooks, 191 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Review [or Religious and streams; Francesca Cabrini gazing prayerfully on the wide expanse of the ocean? Perhaps religious do not do enough of this sort of reading; perhaps religious, especially nuns, are indoors too much. There is another type of this so-called reading: it is reading the book of the crucifix. Saints, like Thomas Aquinas and Bona-venture, found much wisdom in it. Philip Beniti (Breviary, Aug. 23) called the crucifix outright "my book." Neither are we so much interested in this article in spiritual reading taken in a proper but wide sense of the term. By this is meant perusing theological, philosophical, historical books, or reli-gious novels, plays, and poems, for spiritual reading. No doubt Franz Werfel's The Song o[ Bernadette or-Francis Tbompson's poems can readily be converted into spiritual reading, and surely this ought to be done at least occasionally as a relief and diversion from regular spirittial reading. By applying the method of reading sketched above, almost any book, even a grammar or scienc~ book, can become spiritual reading of sorts, but this is not spiritual reading in.the strict and ordinary sense, nor should it take the place of the daily reading prescribed by rule. A good norm is this: for the reading prescribed by rule, particularly if it is done in common, what is ordinarily meant by a spiritual book should be used, except on rare occasions. But for any extra time devoted to this exercise, over and above what is prescribed, one can be much freer in one's choice of books. (I might suggest, by way of digression, that in making this spir-itual reading in the wide sense, religious might keep in mind what Coleridge says of readers in general. He distinguishes four classes. "The first class of readers may be compared to an hour-glass, their reading being as the sand; it runs in and runs out, and leaves not a vestige behind. A second class resembles a sponge, which imbibe~ everything, and returns it in nearly the same state, only a little dirtier. A third class is like a jelly-bag, which allows all that is pure to pass away, arid retains only the refuse and dregs. The fourth class may be compared to the miner of Golconda, who, casting .aside all that is worthless, preserves only the pure gems." If we adopt the method of reading suggested above, surely we shall be mine-workers of Golconda, gathering gems and nuggets of spiritual wisdom to trad~ for heavenly riches. And at the end of each day's .treasure-harvest, should we not give thanks to God for the graces received while reading?) First on the list of spiritual reading books in the strict, sense is the 192 ATTEND TO READING Bible, the spiritual book par excellet~ce. St. Paul writes: "Every-thing in the Scriptures hasbeen divinely inspired, and has its uses: to instruct us, to expose our errors, to correct our faults, to educate us in holy living" (II Tim. 3:16). Do we appreciate the Old Tes-tament sufficiently, and do we read it? Of course, for the beginner a selection of Old Testament Books is advisable. Wisdom, Proverbs, Ecclesiasticus, Ecclesiastes, Tobias, ,lob, Ruth, Esther, Isaias, Psalms --these books contain a rich mine of gpiritual treasure. Gradually one can take on the other books also. A good point as we read is to link up the Old and New Testaments, to note, for example, the shadows and figures of the Old .Testament and their fulfillment and verification in the New. Religious are much better acquainted with the New Testament, especially the four Gospels, which must be gone over and over again to be really assimilated and loved. But have we read the Acts of the Apostles? Or the magfiificent letters of St. Paul?. Or the minor letters of the New Testament? Monsignor Ronald Knox's translation of the Holy Scriptures, whatever its deficiencies from the scholarly angle, has this great advantage that it is highly intelligible for the average reader. We recommend it, particularly for the books of the Old Testament and for the Epistles of St. Paul. An encouragement to read the Holy Scriptures for spiritual reading is the three hundred days' indulgence attached by Pope Leo XIII to at least a quarter hour of such reading. And Pope Benedict XV admonishes that "none can fail to see what profit and sweet tranquility must result in well-disposed souls from such devout reading of the Bible. Whoever comes to it in piety, faith, and humility, and with a determination to make progrez in it, will assuredly find therein and will eat the 'bread that comes down from heaven' (,lohn 6:50) . Our one desire for all the Church's children is that, being saturated with the Bible, they may arrive at the all-surpassing knowledge of desus Christ." (Encyclical Spiritus Paraclitus.) . The Apostolic Fathers are certain ecclesiastical writers of the end of the first century and the first half of the second. Although they are not divinely inspired as are the writers of Holy Scripture, they nevertheless portray vividly the mind and spirit of the early Chris-tians. Perhaps the best known among them are Clement, Ignatius, and Polycarp. Who has not been stirred by the fervent letters of Bishop Ignatius of Antioch on his way to Rome .and martyrdom? To the Romhn Christians, who may try to prevent him from dying for Christ, he writes to dissuade them from such action: "God's wheat 193 AUGUSTINE K~AA$ Reuiew [or Religious I am, and by the teeth of wild beasts I am to be ground that I may prove Christ's pure bread." Bishop Polycarp, about to be mar-tyred, replies to the proconsuI trying to make him apostatize: "For six and eighty years I have been serving Him, and He has done no wrong to me; how, then, dare I blaspheme my King.who has saved me!" Who has not thrilled to the heroic courage of these words? Another contemporary source of inspiring spiritual reading is the accounts of the early martyrs, such as Tarcisius, Cecilia, Perpetua and Felicity. And then there are the Fathers of the Church: Cyprian, Ambrose, Jerome, Augustine, Gregory, Athanasius, Basil, Chrysostom, and many others. Their works on martyrdom, virginity, prayer, the ascetical life, the priestly state, make excellent spiritual reading,' reading that has nourished the prayer of .contemplatives down the ages. Also the Fathers of the Desert, such as Antony the Hermit, and the early monastic founders, as Pachomius and Benedict, furnish reading material for advancement in the spiritual life. Pope Pius XII on several occasions has encouraged the reading of these early writers; especially of the first centuries. Since our troub-lous times are much like those of the first Christians, he points out that we need the virtues they especially" exemplified, and he calls attention to four principal ones: 1) an unshakeable confidence in victory, based on profound faith; 2) a serene and unlimited readi-ness for sacrifice and suffering: 3) Eucharistic fervor and recollection arising from the deep conviction of the social efficacy of Eucharistic thought on all forms of social life; 4) a striving after an ever closer and more enduring unity of spirit and of hierarchy. At present there are two series of English translations of these early writings being published: one by The Newman Press, West-minster, Maryland, the other by Cima Publishing Co., New York. Librarians of religious communities should choose from these collec-tions those volumes more suitable for spiritual reading. Com!ng down the centuries, what a cavalcade of spiritual masters passes in review! Bernard, Aquinas, Catherine of Siena, Bonaven-ture, ~i Kempis, Teresa of Avila, John of the Cross, Rodriguez, Francis de Sales, Lallemant, Alphonsus Liguori, Vincent de Paul, Paul of the Cross, and many more. Among the more recent writers we have Lehodey, Goodier, Faber, Newman, Hedley, Th~r~se of Lisieux, Meschler, Chautard, Marmion, and Leen, not to mention the living. Some years ago REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS printed a list of some hundred authors and their works, which may serve as a basis 194 ATTEND TO READING for a re~ding program of the spiritual masters. (Cf. I, 105; II, 117.) Another rich source of spiritual reading is the life of Christ, of Our Blessed Lady, and of St. ,Joseph. These are timeless books, to be read and reread. Then there are the numerous biographies of the saints, especially of those whom the Church has singled out to be the official patrons of various Catholic works, and of the Blessed, and of other holy persons, particularly of the founders of religious com-munities, so instructive, inspiring, and enticing to imitation. In the last twenty or thirty years hagiography has made real progress towards taking the saints from their fragile pious pedestals and, by putting.their feet on the ground, making them attractively real. | V Of course, amid such a wealth of reading material, one must wisely choose. Here are a few suggestions for religious that must not be followed too rigidly but always adapted to special circumstances: Choose those books that will give you the spirit of your own religious order oi congregation, whether active, contemplative, or mixed. These should be preferred tb all others, especially in the early years of the religious life, and they should be reread often. If your community has few or none, then read the books of an order or congregation which has. your identical rule, or has for its purpose one similar to your own. Other books, depicting and implementing other ways of religious life or other states of life than yours, can be read gradually as the years go on. Choose books suitable to your present position in your religious community. The reading of novices is not going to be the same. as that of older religious. Young religious should be directed in their reading by some one experienced in this matter. However, certain authors are recommended by the Holy See to all young religious: St. Bernard, St. Bonaventure, and Father Alphonsus Rodriguez. The latter's Practice of Perfection and Christian Virtues (3 vols. Loyola Press, Chicago) has the added advantage of furnishing a systematic general survey of almost the whole ascetical field--a valuable help at the beginning of one's religious life. Choose books adapted to the spiritual needs of the soul at the moment. This reading will vary according as one is ill, or in con-solation, or in desolation, or in temptation, or in great trials, or has been appointed superior, or removed from some cherished office or employment, and so forth. It will vary, too, according as one has made great or little progr.e.ss in the spiritual life. 195 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Make it a point to read at least one book in harmony with the liturgical year, for instance, something on the Passion during Lent. I~ is good occasionally to read a general survey of the whole of the spiritual life, such as that found in Tanquerey, Garrigou- Lagr~nge, Saudreau, or Parente. A more o~ less systematic reading of the older authors, especially the spiritual classics, should be done by mature religious, while at the same time not neglecting the better books among the moderns. Here a list of books, graded in the order of importance, is a big help. Many modern spiritual books are superficial and ephemeral, and can readily be passed over in favor of the spiritual masters. Mystical books should be read rarely by the young and then only under direction. Older religious of balanced judgment may read such books with profit, especially those of St. Teresa of Avila. With regard to private revelations and mystical phenomena not yet having received the approval that goes with the person's canonization, on~ should always maintain a prudent reserve. This is the Church's own attitude in these delicate matters. An inordinate attachment to ~eading about revelations and mystical phenomena is a sign of' spir-itual immaturity and can be harmful to one's spiritual life. 'Finally, religious should read regularly one or several magazines devoted to the spiritual and religious life, such as Cross and Crown, Life of the Spirit, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Sponsa Regis, or others in foreign languages. These, besides articles suitable for spiritual reading, furnish careful information on spiritual books and pam-phlets, old and new. To conclude with a common objection: "I am too busy; I have no time for extra spiritual reading." Let St. Robert Bellarmine answer it. After asserting that there is always a margin of time left over in the daily schedule tha~ can "be spent on meditation or pious reading, with great fruit for one's soul," the holy Doctor goes on to say: "Seneca in one of his letters takes to task those who claim that time is all too short;and be proves that their complaint is unfounded, because they waste a great deal of time. If only they would use it, they should have plenty of time . Many are short of time because, not content with honest recreation, they squander their existence in dawdling, gadding about, gossiping, visiting, reading about trifles, and doing nothing useful." Perhaps St. Robert has something there! Book/?ev ews ST. TERESA OF JESUS. By Father Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen, O.C.D. Translated from the Italian by a Benedictine of Stanbrook Abbey. Pp. xll-~ 123. The Newman Press, Westminster, Maryland, 1949. $2.00 In this book Fathe~ Gabriel does for St. Teresa what he did some time ago for St. John of the Cross (see this REVIEW, VI, p. 377) ; that is, in a series of five conferences he introduces us to the works and doctrine of the celebrated mystic whom he regards as the great founder of what he is pleased to call "the Teresian school." He makes an effort to present the principal points of that doctrine in an ordered and systematic synthesis, and to "determine what is her considered opinion on the more central problems of spirituality" (p. xi). The supremely important aim in the spiritual life is not contem- t plation, but cbarRy, and the perfection of it. .Being most magnani-mous herself and having been treated most liberally by God, St. Teresa conceives this perfection to be love brought to the highest possible peak of generosity. Nothing, absolutely nothing, is to be refused to the divine Lover. Whatever He may ask, in deed or sacri-fice or suffering, the soul is glad to render. In particular it is eager to do all that it can in the apostolic spirit and for the salvation of souls. This lofty perfection is possible to all Christians who have sufficient good will. It is the same as that most excellent form of union with God, that "true union" of conformity of will in love, which above all other forms Teresa herself always desired and sought. After considering the goal, perfect love, it was only natural that a Carmelite and especially a sublime mystic like St. Teresa should turn to "the contemplative ideal." Besides infused contemplation, "We must conclude that, evidently, Teresa also is aware of the exist-ence of an active contemplation," described in The Interior Castle, "Mansion VI," 7. "Such a contemplation will habitually be the prayer even of a soul already mystical, at such times as it is not favored by God with more special divine enlightening. In the illu-minative way the active, or acquired, contemplation will easily alter-nate with the infused. The matter is thus understood by the whole Teresian school" (p. 118). Her understanding of mystical contemplation is narrower and richer than that of some modern authors: it "is a state of prayer 197 BOOK REVIEWS Reoiew for Religious wherein the soul is experimentally aware of God's action within it" (p. 24). "Even in the lower degrees of infused contemplation the divine action within renders itself in some way perceptible to the consciousness; the soul feels moved, drawn, and from seeing how that motion which it suffers causes it to occupy itself wholly in lovingly gazing upon God, it judges: 'God is acting in me. I am very close to God' " (p. 82). In St. Teresa's outlook the contemplative ideal is of course most important. It is a great "short cut" to the higher degrees of charity and virtue. One ardently in love with God experiences a certain need of the peculiar intimacy and inspiration which contemplation brings. Hence it is in every way most desirable. However, it is not necessary, even for perfect holiness. "We cannot conclude that all generous souls must attai'n to such forms of contemplation ['prayer of quiet,' 'sleep of the powers,' 'union'], much less that they can be introduced into that way of contemplation which, through the series of infused forms of prayer, leads the soul to the spiritual marriage as it is described by St. Teresa and St. John of the Cross . So we may speak of a way that leads to holiness, even perfect holiness, without passing through mystical prayers, strictly speaking" (pp. 36, 37). "Synthesizing these teachings of its great Mistress, the Teresian School has distinguished a two-fold way of perfection: the common way and the mystical way, that is the way of contemplation. The common way knows nothing of infused forms of prayer of th~ characteristic type described by St. Teresa" (p. 43). As a matter of fact, God is most liberal with His gifts and is wont to grant infused prayer to those who exert themselves suffi-ciently. "If we are to interpret her thought faithfully, we must say that in the highest way of sanctity, followed by thoroughly generous souls, mystical prayer, although not ~ecessary, is yet ordinary. Such, also, is the traditional position taken up by the Teresian mystical school, formulated by the Teresian Congress of Madrid" (p. 37). After dealing with perfection and contemplation in the first two conferences, Father Gabriel devotes the remaining three to the preparation that St. Teresa advises for contemplation, to an account of the "Mansions" of The lnterior Castle, and finally to the place of the sacred humanity of Jesus in the spiritual system of Teresa of Jesus. Father Gabriel's book is a clear, brief, and highly inspiring intro-duction to the doctrine of St. Teresa. Moreover, it presents the understanding and interpretation of it which the leading authority 198 duly, 1950 BOOK REVIEWS now in Carmelite spirituality considers to be the true and just idea of it. Hence this work is a very valuable addition to our spiritual literature.--(3. AUGUSTINE ELLARD, S.J. STORM OF GLORY. By John Beevers. Pp. viii -f- 23 I. Sheed and Ward, New York, 19S0. $3.00. This short life of St. Th~r~se of Lisieux is written with a two-fold purpose: (1) to reveal St. Th~r~se as a person truly measuring up to the heroic love of God and the neighbor required of a saint, and a person altogether unlike the child-like and sweetly sentimental saint she is made to be in many books about her; and (2) to point out that St. Wh~r~se has a very special relation to our modern times. Read in connection with the Autobiography of St. Th~rbse, Storm of Glory/will give one a very complete picture of the saint. It fills in many details of her family life in early years as well as her life as a Carmelite, all of which help very much to understand St. Th~rbse, and in addition it tells a brief running story of her life enlivened with concrete incidents and eye-witness stories which show Th~r~se to have been truly heroic in a grown-up way in her love and service of God. The second aim of the book is developed in Part II. The author calls St. Th~r~se of Lisieux th~ greatest saint of modern times, prin-cipally because she has made sanctity seem not only attractive but truly possible to thi many, many little people of the world, who but for her would have thought of sanctity as too remote and mysterious andimpractical for such as they. This is true because her own life was so very ordinary--ordinary works, no extraordinary penances, and for the most part no extraordinary spiritual experiences, and also because of the Little Way of Spiritual Childhood which she teaches as a sure way to become a saint. Further, to the author, Th~r~se, with her conviction of her own littleness and her love of God in every detail of her life, stands in direct opposition to the modern worldly spirit with its pride in purely natural accomplishments and its bitter hatred as well of fellowmen ~s of God. Over the years I have found each fresh acquaintance with St. Thir~se of Lisieux to be spiritually inspiring. And that is what Storm of Glory offers to its readers--a good measure of spiritual inspiration.--A. REID, S.J. PURGATORY. By Martin A. dugle, A.A. Translated by Malachy G, Car-roll. Pp. 203. The Newman Press, Wesfmlnster, Maryland, 1949. $3.25. There are very few worthwhile books on Purgatory. This is one 199 Book REVIEWS Reuiew for Religious of them, one of the best. Unlike most, it is written primarily from the viewpoint of the living and stresses throughout the consoling aspect of Purgatory. In it, Father Martin 3ugie, a theologian of high repute, presents and explains the Catholic doctrine in simple, clear language, but with theological exactitude and above all with reserve, especially on the delicate subject of private revelations. In fact, his balanced evaluation and prudent use of private revelations are some of the outstanding features of the book. The location of Purgatory, its inhabitants, its kinds of punishment, its time-length, these and many other topics, some not found in other books, come up for care-ful treatment. The author devotes considerable space ~o the w.ays in which we can help these souls, by Masses, indulgences, prayers, and almsgiving. Finally, he tells bow to avoid Purgatory altogether, or at least shorten one's stay there, by using the multitudinous efficacious means placed by the Church at the disposal of Catholics. He might have developed more at length the theologically well-founded though not certain doctrine of the immediate entry into heJaven of those who receive the sacrament of extreme unction betimes a;ad with the proper disposi-tions. The translator has done a fair job, but he should have done more car,eful proof-reading, and he might have added a helpful index. We recommend the book highly to all and trust that it will match in English the seven editions it has already seen in French. It is a rare book, combining two things: exact information and quiet inspiration. --A. KLAAS, S.J. PSYCHIATRY AND ASCETICISM. By Felix D. Duffey, C.S.C. Pp. 132. B. Herder Book Co., S÷. Louis, Missouri. $2.00. This slender volume points out defects in the exercise of the sci-ence of psychiatry as it is practiced today and as it is popularly preached. From a consideration of some of the defects of the science, the author goes on to a treatment of certain ascetical principles and practices which are basic to a complete understanding of difficulties in man's mental life, principles and practices frequently overlooked or denied in psychiatric treatment. Perhaps the finest chapters in the book are the Psychology of Mental Prayer and the Psychology of Mortification. The present reviewer has a practical problem with this volume, however. Though the author repeats several times that he has no quarrel with psychiatry which stays within the confines of its sub- 200 duly,.1950 BOOK NOTICES ject matter, the overall tendency of the book seems to condemn the science as a whole. A Catholic psychiatrist would find little encour-agement in reading Psgcbiatry and Asceticism. There are many reputable Catholic psychia~;rists who are doing splendid work in their chosen field, and it is fervently hoped that their number will increase. It is true that Freud held a philoso.pby not consonant with our rule of faith, but a distinction must be made between the philo-sophy of the founder and the therapeutic processes and clinical obser-vations and conclusions of the science. By stressing some of the ideas this volume does, the ordinary layman would put little faith in psychiatry.mJ. J. CAMPBELL, S.J. [NOTE: The preceding reviews of Purgatory and of Psychiatry and Asceticism are published through the courtesy of Catholic Review Service, St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas.] BOOK NOTICES GOSPEL GE,MS, by Canon Paul Marc, contains twenty-four meditations on as many events recorded in the Gospels. The .book is recommended to anyone seeking an aid in making familiar contem-plations or meditations on the Gospel scenes. The prayerful perusal of its simple and inspiring treatment of these scenes will help the reader to acquire a deeper knowledge of Christ and to achieve a more intimate union with Him. (Frederick Pustet Co., New York and Cincinnati, 1950. Pp. 226. $3.00.) AN INTRODUCTION TO HOLINESS, by Henri Petitot, O.P., is a clear, well-balanced statement of the essentials for holiness. The book has three main parts (The Ascetic Life; The Active Life; and The Unitive Life) and a conclusion on The Mystical Body. In these various sections the author insists on the necessity of self-denial, humility, prayer, zeal, knowledge of Christian doctrine, union with God and neighbor through charity[ There is a good chapter on the value of Christian art for stimulating devotion; and the theme that the holiness of one member has profound effects on the Mystical Body is excellently developed. The treatise is intended for the fer-vent laity and for religious. Even among these, the author says, comparatively few attain to a superior state of holiness. But all would profit by the thoughtful reading of this book. Irritating minor tones are the frequent references to things French and the author's apparently unnecessary insistence on his "Thomistic" posi-tion. The translation from the French was made by Malachy Ger- 201 BOOK NOTICES Reuie~u for Reliqious ard Carroll. (Westminster, Maryland: The Newman Press, 1950. Pp. vii ÷ 176. $2.50.) COME CREATOR SPIRIT, by Rev. A. Biskupek, S.V.D., is a series of considerations centering chiefly around those two magnificent hymns to the Holy Ghost, Veni Creator Spiritus and Veni. Sancte Spiritus. Other chapters deal with the role of the Holy Ghost in the sacraments. The book concludes with comments on the Mass of the Holy Ghost and miscellaneous reflections. The treatment is devotional, simple, full of unction, and directed to the heart. This book might best do service to religious as a well-spring for their meditations~to increase their appreciation of and devotion to the forgotten Paraclete. (Techny, Ill.: Mission Press, 1950. Pp. $3.00.) TAKE THIS SCAPULAR contains the conferences given at the Carmelite Third Order's Second National Conference held in the spring of 1949. In the thirty-four chapters, each by a Carmelite Tertiary or a Tertiary Director, is told the story of Our Lady's Scapular, its origin and history, its use and efficacy in modern life. This book provides valuable source material for study, meditation, and preaching on the Scapular devotion. (Chicago: Carmelite Third Order Press, 1949. Pp. 270. $2.50.) Thomas Merton's latest book, WHAT ARE THESE WOUNDS?, is an interpretation of the contemplative life and mystical experi-ences of St. Lutgarde, a thirteenth-century Yrappistine. It is a com-panion book to his THE WATERS OF SILOE, and THE SEEDS OF CONTEMPLATION, and gives a concrete application of the principles of the contemplative life discussed in these two former books. Although the author is careful to explain that the miraculous is only accidental to the mystical life, it is to be regretted that much of the book is taken up with relating just such experiences. This biography of St. Lutgarde is, however, interesting and pleasant reading, since it does afford an insight into the innermost life of an outstanding con-templative and a lover of the Sacred Heart. (Milwaukee: The Bruce Publishing Company, 1950. Pp. xiv + 191. $2.50.) Among the many celebrated writings by St. Athanasius probably none was more influential, over a wider area and for a longer period, than his perennial "best seller," THE LIFE (~F ST. ANTHONY. Atha-nasius had known and esteemed th~ great monastic pioneer and pro-duced this Lit:e shortly after the death of Anthony. The account 202 dulv, 1950 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS literally set the style for Christian hagiography. And, what is vastly more important, it exerted enormous influence East and West in spreading the idea of that full-time pursui.t of Christian perfection that is now organized into religious life under rule and vow. After the Gospels, this Life is really Book One in monastic and conventual literature. The present edition is Number' 10 in the Ancient Chris-tian Writers series. The translator and editor is Robert T. Meyer. .Religious scholars will be grateful to him not only for the smooth translation but also for the annotations with which he interprets the text. (Westminster,Md.: The Newman Press, 1950. Pp. 154. $2.50.) Very noticeable in recent literature on religious vocations is the striving to be realistic, to show young men and women, by word pictures and photographs, just how the religious life is lived. WHAT MUST I Do? by Sister Mary Paul Reilly, O.S.B., is an example of how this purpose.may be accomplished by word pictures. She takes one girl and her companions through the postulancy, noviceship, first and final professions: and, by means of their varied experiences, she shows the girl reader just what she might expect in the religious life. (Milwaukee: The Bruce Publishing Company, 1950. Pp. 96. ¯ $1.60.) THE UNHOLY THREE, by Rev. Henry J. Romanowski, is a very readable treatise on ascetical theology for the laity. The "Unholy Three" are, obviously, the world, the flesh, and the devil. Father R0manowski covers the principal ways in which these enemies attack the soul, as well as the various ways of combatting them. This is his first book. May he publish many more. (Milwaukee: The Bruce Publishing Company, 1950. Pp. xiii ÷ 160. $2.75.) BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS [For the most part, these notices are purely descriptive, based on a cursory exam-ination of the books listed.] B. HERDER BOOK COMPANY, St. Louis, Missouri. Human Personalit~l. By H. C. E. Zacharias. Pp. viii q- 360. $4.00. Describes the way India and China "by their own unaided efforts caused human personality to emerge out of its stage of collec-tive anonymity," and how Israel was an instrument in the hands of God "who gave to human personality a supernatural sanction and an eternal value, unattainable by merely human endeavors." ,, 203 dul~,1950 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS The Nazarene. By Eugenio Zolli. Translated from thd orig-inal ItaIian by Cyril VolIert, S.3. Pp. 309. $5.00. A volume of exegesis for "Scripture students and others who are confronted with difficulty of explaining obscure passages in the Gospels." Revival of Paganism. By Gustave Combes. Translated by Rev. Augustine Stock, O.S.B. Pp. v + 360. $4.50. "This survey of recent trends, especially those fostered by government, toward the dechristianization of our civilization, focuses attention in particular on Russia, Germany, and France." The Message of Christ. By Adolf Donders. Translated by Rev. Rudolph Kraus. Pp. xi ÷ 477. $6.00. Includes 204 brief suggested sermons, based mostly on the life of Christ, for Sundays and principal feasts of the liturgical year. Should prove useful espe-cially to busy parish priests. THE LITURGICAL PRESS, Collegeville, Minnesota. Tbeoloqg of the Old Testament. By Dr. Paul Heinisch. Eng-lish edition by Rev. William Heidt. Pp. 386. $5.00. Although of special interest to teachers of religion and theology, this book will provide the less specialized reader also with a deeper understanding and fuller apppreciation of Old Testament teaching on the nature and attributes of God, the spirit world, creation, the nature of man, human acts, the Messiah. The treatment is both scholarly and com-prehensive and copiously documented with hundreds of Scriptural references. LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO., 55 Fifth Avenue, New York. St. Anne and the Gouty Rector and Other Plays. By Henri Gh~on ~ Henri Brochet. Pp. xx + 190. $2.50. Contains seven plays and useful production notes for each play. The plays included are: St. Anne and the Gouty Rector, The Sausage-Maker's Interl~de, Parade at Devil's Bridge by Henri Gh~on; Christmas at the Cross-roads, The Gardener Who Was Afraid of Death, The Man Who Died Because He Wore Gloves, St. Felix and His Potatoes by Henri Brocbet. NEWMAN PRESS, Westminster, Maryland. Facing Life, Meditations for Young Men. By Raoul Plus, S.J. Pp. xii + 12I. $1.50. Facing Life, Meditations for Young Women. By Raoul Plus, S.J. Pp. xiv + 158. $1.50. Two small books, reprints. Recommended highly for priests 204 July, 1950 FOR YOUR INFORMATION and religious who want to help young men and women meditate. The Sunday Introits and Graduals. By Reir. E. C. Messenger. Pp. 175. $2.75. The Sunday Collects. Pp. 123. $2.75. The Sunday Epistles. Pp. 182. $2.75. -.-The Sunday G'ospels. Pp. 171. $2.75. These four volumes contain simple explanations of the various parts of the Mass. Helpful for religious who .wish to meditate on these parts of the Mass; for priests who wish to explain the Mass; and for the laity who want a deeper understanding of parts of the Mass. Lioing with God. By Raoul Plus, S.J. Pp. xvi -1- 93. $1.50. Another reprint. Seeks to arouse in the reader a more fruitful realiza-tion of the tremendous significance of union with God through sanc-tifying grace. By Rev. E. C. Messenger. By Rev. E. C. Messenger. By Rev. E. C. Messenger. JOSEPH F. WAGNER, INC., 53 Park Place, New York. In Praise of Our.Lady. By Martin Dempsey. Pp. vi + 225. $2.75. A book of sermons concerning the principal feasts of Our Lady, including a special series for a Novena to Our Lady of Fatima. For Your nrrorma on Passlonist Champion Champion of Church and Pope is an attractive pamphlet sketch of St. Vincent Strambi, the recently canonized Passionist bishop. In his preface to the pamphlet Bishop James H. Griffiths says that "Vincent Strambi is a modern symbol of victory of the suffering Christ and His suffering Church over the force and the fear of the tyrannical state." In the text itself Father Aloysius McDon-ough, C.P., brings out not only the remarkable story of St. Vincent's early life (he was rector of a seminary before being ordained a priest) and of his great courage in the face of Napoleon's tyranny, but also the essential details of Passionist life. The publisher is the Sign Press, Union City, New Jersey. Father McDonough, the author, 205 FOR YOUR INFORMATION. conducts the "Sign-Post" in the Passionis~ magazine, The Sign, and is the author of God's Own Method, a book which offers a "design for living . . . drawn from the lessons taught by the crucified Re-deemer." (See REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, VII, 50-51.) Company o{ Mary A Slave of Jesus in Mary is a pamphlet life of Mother Mary Potter, Foundress of The Little Company of Mary, familiarly known as the "Blue Nuns." The institute began in the latter part of the last century; the foundress died in Rome in 1913; yet the Little Company's hospitals are now circling the globe. The author of this pamphlet is Father Marius McAuliffe, O.F.M. Our readers may obtain it for the asking by writing to The Little Company of Mary Hospital, 95th St. and California Ave., Evergreen Park 42, Ill. Servanfs of Mary Another nursing institute of recent origin is The Sisters, Servants of Mary, a society of trained nurses who care for the sick and infirm in their own homes. It too is fast extending its services to the whole world. Its provincial house for the United States is located at Kan-sas City, Kansas. The foundress, Mother Soledad Torres Acosta, was born in Madrid, Spain, in 1826, and died in the same city 1887. She was beatified on February 5, of this present Holy Year. L~ftle Off;¢e M~I Dail~t Otlice is a 6-p~ge folder on The Little Office of the Blessed Virgin. It contains a brief commentary on the Office and reflections on the psalms and canticles. The author is Ft. Jerome, O.F.M. He found in giving retreats to religious that they do not get lectures on the Little OtSce as often as they would wish; hence, he gave some talks and later abbreviated them into this folder. Copies may be ordered, or sample copies obtained, from Assisi Press, St. Francis, Broad Lane, Cork, Ireland. Price for U.S.A. and Canada: $3.00 for 100; $8.00 for 300; $12.00 for 500. I/arla The Poor Clare Nuns have a new monastery situated on a hill-side overlooking the Santa Clara Valley. The address is: The Immaculate Heart Monastery, Route 2, Box 873, Los Altos, California. "The Boy Saviour, My Model for Life," is the title of a new (Continued on page 224) 206 ( ues {ons and Answers nl8m We have heard, or read somewhere, that the water cruet used at Mass should always be filled to the brim? Is that correct; and, if so, why should this be so? At the Offertory the celebrant is supposed to mix a very slight quantity of .water with the wine in the chalice. The quantity should be relatively slight: that is, slight with reference to the amount of wine that he takes. Yet, even priests who use a comparatively large quantity of wine usually try to limit themselves to only a few drops of water. The cruet should be filled in such a way that the priest can accomplish this without spilling the water. Generally speaking, it is very difficult for the priest to take only a few drops if only the bottom part of the cruet is filled, for in this case the water tends to gush out. For this reason, the stoppers so often used in water cruets are a nuisance. On the other hand, when cruets are filled right to the brim, it is often difficult to pour the water without spilling it. The safest way to fill the water cruet, therefore, seems to be almost to the brim. We might add, however, that cruets differ--and so do priests. Sacristans would do well to ask the priest how he wants the cruets filled. And if there is no opportunity to do this, the sacristan might experiment a bit until he (or she) knows just how much to fill the cruet to allow for the pouring of only a few drops without spilling or gushing. In some places Erlenmeyer flasks are used as cruets because it is so easy to control the flow of liquid from them. ml9m What is meant by a "perplexed" conscience? Is it the same thing as scrupulosity? By a "perplexed" conscience theologians mean a state of mind in which a person thinks he would commit a sin no matter what he does. For instance, suppose a mother thinks she would sin by going to Mass and neglecting a sick child, and would also sin by staying with the child and omitting Mass. She has to do one thing or the other--go to Mass or not go to Mass. Hence, according to her "conscience" she would sin no matter what she would do. Another example is suggested by this problem in Moral Guidance (p. 309), by Edwin F. Healy, S.J.: "What should a surgeon do in an 207 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS emergency case where in his opinion he will probably be doing wrong if he operates and probably be doing wrong if he does not operate? He must do one or the other at once." The "perplexed" conscience does not necessarily indicate scrupu-losity. Even one who normally has no difficulty making decisions for himself might occasionally face a situation so puzzling ~that it seems to involve sin no matter what he does. However, a scrupulous person is certainly more apt to experience this difficulty than are those who are not scrupulous. Since we have mentioned the "perplexed" conscience, it may be well to add here the correct principles of conduct in such an emergency. Theologians give three rules to cover the various possi-bilities : 1) Get advice, if this is possible, and thus do away with the perplexity. --For instance, the mother mentioned above might ask the priest or some prudent friend what she should do. 2) If advice or some similar help is unavailable, do what seems to be the less evil. --For instan6e, the s.urgeon mentioned in Father He.aly's problem has to act in an emergency and may have no oppor-tunity to consult persons or books. In that case he should try to estimate whether operating or not operating would be the less of the two apparent evils and then act accordingly. 3) If one cannot decide which would be the less evil, he may follow either course of action without sin. ---The reason for this last rule is that a person who judges that he will sin equally by acting and by not acting no longer has the freedom necessary for actually committing a sin. The ability to sin presupposes the ability to choose between two things, one of which is sinful, the other not sinful. 2O Is it true that the Holy See has condemned the practice of cjivincj several small Hosts to one communicant.'/ A decree of Pope Innocent XI condemned the practice of giving several small Hosts to one communicant. The reason for this prohibition was that the practice, as existing at the time of the con-demnation, was based on a spirit of false devotion. When there is no question of fostering a false devotion, a priest may give several Hosts to the same communicant: for example, when there is need of emptying a ciborium. 208 Reporl: I:o Rome I We c:ntinue hcre the publishing of the List oI Questions to be answered in the quinquennial report by pontifical institutes. For full explanation see our dan-uary, 1950, number, page 52. We encourage all to read these questions thought-fully, as they furnish an excellen~ survey of the Church's law concerning religious. The eighty-six questions published in our 3anuary, March, and May numbers contain the first three articles of Chapter I, "The Institute and Its Government." The questions are published exactly as they appear in the official English trans-lation. Questions marked with an asterisk (*) concern only institutes of men; those marked with a cross (t) refer only to institutes of women.--ED.] ARTICLE IV Concernin9 the financ;al 9overnmenf of the Institute § 1. - CONCERNING THE ACQUISITION AND LOSS OF PROPERTY Concerning the acquisition and registration of propert~ 87. a) What if any immovable property or precious movable property was acquired by the Institute, Provinces and houses; what was the value of these acquisitions. b) Was the aforesaid property acquired by gift or other gratui-tous title, or by purchase, and ~n this latter case was it with the funds of the Institute, Province or house, or with borrowed money. 88. Has the Institute, the Province and each house an inventory of its movable property, especially of that which is classed as precious (by reason of workmanship, history or material) (c. 1522 2°) and of its immovable property. 89. When must these invehtories be revised, and are they in fact revised. 90. In cases where works which are not the property of the house, such as clerical or religious residence-halls, hospitals, churches, etc., are entrusted to the religious houses, are these properties kept clearly distinct from those which belong to the religious house itself. 91. By what method or in~ whose name before the civil law is the religious property registered; and can this registration be regarded as safe in civil law. 92. What forms of registration have been adopted as the more s~cure in various localities. 93. If societies have been established for this purpose, was every-thing done in accordance with the civil law and is everything actually being kept in good order. 94. As regards the aforesaid societies: 209 REPORT TO ROME Review for Religious a) Were all persons to whom the administration or manage-ment of property is entrusted, chosen with due care, after making all the previous investigations which were necessary or useful. b) Were the members of the Institute itself given the preference over outsiders for oflqces of administration, whenever this could pru-dently be done without loss. c) What safeguards were used against dangers arising from abuses of administration. d) Is a constant vigilance conscientiously exercised according to law, through the checking of accounts and through ordinary and other extraordinary and timely inspections of safety deposits and other properties. Concerning expenses 95. Were extraordinary expenses paid from ordinary or extra-ordinary income proper, or on the contrary with borrowed funds. Concerning contributions 96. Did the individual houses and other units subject to the Provinces contribute toward meeting the expenses of the Provinces. 97. Did the Provinces and equivalent units and the houses which are immediately under the Supe.rior General contribute to the com-mon necessities of the Institute. 98. By what authority (Chapter, Council, General or Provincial Superior), on what principles and in what proportion are the contri-butions'to the general and provincial funds determined. 99. Were these contributions paid willingly or more or less under pressure. I00. Are the Provinces and houses allowed to retain whatever is prudently foreseen to be necessary or very appropriate for their own life and growth, in view of the good of souls and the welfare of the Institute. Concerning the alienation and diminution of property 101. What capital property, whether immovable, or stable (i. e. consisting of capital funds) or precious, was alienated, and by what authority, 102. In the alienation of property, were the provisions of law (cc. 534, 1531), especially regarding the previous appraisal by experts, and the norms of the Constitutions, observed. 103. Did the Institute, Provinces and houses consume any stable or founded property or capital funds; for what reasons and by what 210 July, 19~O authority. 104. Are the general, making serious efforts to red 105. What properties o suffered loss; and what wer! REPORT TO ROME rovincial and local Superiors and Bursars over this property. the Institute, Provinces and houses have the reasons. gilance of Superiors and their Councils ~d 'Bursars (c. 516 §§ 2, 3, 4) according Constitutions: ute. 'ovinces and other similar units. muses and works. 111. Does the Superior §3). 112. Do the Councils exercise vigilance in regard also as Bursars (c. 516 § 1 Concerning 113. How many times cils must the Bursars and o their administration. 114. Was a clear and in any case act also as Bursar (c. 516 ~ave their part in the administration and lit, even when the Superiors are acting how do they do this. rhe rendering of accounts a year and to what Superiors and Coun-her Administrators render an account of :omplete rendering of account demanded 21"1 under the direction and vi (cc. 516 § 2, 532 § I), 110. Are there designat to the common law and thl a) For the entire Insti~ b) For the different P: c) For the individual Concernirig debts and obligations 106. a) What debts w~re contracted, and by whom. b) What debts are ac~ua!ly outstanding. 107. In contracting debts and obligations, were the following faithfully observed : a) The provisions of c. 534. b) The precautions mI e.ntioned in c. 536 § 5. c) The norms of the Constitutions regarding permissions, the consent of the Council, etc. | 108. Was the interest ~n debts and obligations faithfully paid, and is diligent care taken t,oward the gradual payment of a debt or the amortization of the capital~ (c. 536 § 5). § 2. - CONCERNING THE[CONSERVATION AND ADMINISTRATION ~F PROPERTY 109. Is the administra~tion of property conducted, not arbi-trarily, but according to the common law and the Constitutions, REPORT TO ROME Reoiet~ for Religious of all and each of the Bursars and Administrators during the five-year period. 115. Were there presented together with the accounts the docu-ments showing the .expenditures and receipts. 116. Was there regularly an inspection and checking of the safe. 117. Are the necessary directions given to the Bursars and Administrators; if so how is this done, and what sanctions are imposed in case of necessity. 118. Have Superiors, Bursars or Administrators, or any other religious, any money or property which they can freely use without giving a regular account of it, even though it belong to the Institute, Province or house. Concerning the intpestment of money and changes of inuestment 119. Did Superiors, Councils and Administrators lawfully, safely and profitably invest (c. 533) the money which was to be invested according to law and the will of benefactors, observing the rules of law and the Constitutions. 120. Did Superiors, Bursars and Administrators make temporary investments of surplus funds which were not required for ordinary expenses, so that they should not lie idle but might draw a reasonable interest. Concerning the consert~ation of property 121. Are money, securities, contracts, precious articles carefully conserved, observing exactly the common norms and the provisions of the Constitutions. 122. On what terms, if ever: a) Were money or precious articles received from outsiders on deposit. b) Or conversely were such deposits made with outsiders by Superiors, Bursars, Administrators or private religious. 123. Do Superiors, Bursars, Administrators conscientiously strive that all the properly of the Institute, Province and house be religiously conserved and providently administered (c. 532 § 1). Concerning foundations, pious causes, etc. 124. What legacies and pious foundations were accepted. 125. In accepting pious foundations and legacies, were the rules of law (c. 1544, ss.) and of the Constitutions observed. 126. Was the money of foundations and pious causes, according to law and with the consent of the local Ordinary when that was 212 July, 19519 REPORT TO ROME required, invested (cc. 533 §§ 1, 2, 1547) and separately and faith-fully administered (cc. 535 § 3, 2°, 1546, 1549). 127. Were the obligations attached to foundations faithfully and conscientiously fulfilled (cc. 1514, 1549 § 2). 128. Did Visitors demand documentary proof of their fulfilment and an account of the administration of the property. Concerning business and trade, etc. 129. Did any religious, Superiors or subjects, personally or through others, engage in illicit business, that is, business not per-mitted to religious, in violation of cc. 142, 592. 130. In cases where for just reasons the permission of the Holy See. was obtained for engaging in business (give the date and Proto-col number), was every semblance, not alone of fraud but also of avarice, diligently avoided. 131. What precautions were taken that religious who are occu-pied in business dealings may not suffer spiritual harm. 132. Whether Superiors and Councils were attentively watchful that, according to c. 1539 § 2, in the administrative exchange of securities payable to bearer, all appearance of commerce or trading be avoided. Concerning actions or affairs which int)oloe tfnancial responsibility 133. How did Superiors exercise vigilance over the actions and dealings of their subjects from which there might arise according to law a financial responsibility on the part of the Institute or of the Province or house (c. 536 § 2) or of the individual religious (c. 536 §3). 134. Did Superiors clearly and effectively, according as the cir-cumstances required, take prompt action to clear the Institute, Prov-ince and house of all responsibility for actions and dealings done by individual religious without observing the norms of the common or particular law. 135. Do Superiors see to it that, in all matters which concern finances, or in those generally which could give occasion to litigation in the canonical or civil courts, everything be done exactly according to law, on the basis of previous written contracts and with the guar-antee of perfectly valid signed agreements, etc. (e, 1529). 136. Have any law suits or losses resulted from failure to observe the prescribed formalities of civil law according to n. 135. 213 REPORT TO ROME Review for Religious 137. !-!ave Superiors and Bursars diligently seen to it that extern workmen and all persons who work for the Institute, Province or house receive at the agreed time a just and fair compensation accord-ing to law (c. 1524), and that the provisions of law regarding the contract of hire and other matters be faithfully observed. 138. What provision is made for the spiritual welfare of those who work in the house, especially if they also reside there. CHAPTER II CONCERNING THE RELIGIOUS AND THE RELIGIOUS LIFE AND DISCIPLINE Concerning the diversity of classes ~ The vows of each class 139. What are the different classes, if any, among the members of the Institute; does harmony exist among the different classes and is f~aternaI charity observed among them. 140. Besides the persons who belong to the Institute or Society as members, by religious profession or lawful incorporation, are there others who are dedicated or given to it, or the like, without being members. 141. Is provision made in fairness and charity for the spiritual life of these persons and also for their material security. 142. Are there any legitimately approved,statutes for them. ARTICLE I Concerning ÷he admission, formation and profession or incorporation of members Concerning the postulantsbip in the wide sense (Apostolic Schools) 143. Are there in the Institute any aspirantships or postu.lant-ships in the wide sense: apostolic schools, etc. 144. For how long a time does the instruction and education in these places last. 145. In these apostolic schools and similar houses and in the residence-halls, are the students of tender age habitually kept separate from the older ones. Concerning the postulantship in the canonical or strict sense 146. Are the postulantships pro.perly conducted according to law in the houses of noviceship (c. 540 § 1), or in houses where perfect religious observance exists (c. 540). 147. Was the time assigned by the common law (c. 539) or by 214 Julg, 1950 " REPORT TO ROME the Constitutions for the postulantship abbreviated or prolonged; if so, for how long a time and by what authority. Concerning the admission of aspirants 148. What means are used to arouse and attract vocations. 149. Are there also advertisements inserted in public bulletins and papers. If so, in what bulletins or papers did they appear. 150. Taking into account the different circumstances of various localities, what causes are regarded as having an influence on the increase or diminution of vocations. 151. Wha~t are the obstacles which aspirants most frequendy have to overcome in order to follow their vocation. Concerning documents, testimonials and informations 152. Were the documents required by the common law (c. 544) and by the Constitutions demanded before admission in the case of each aspirant. 153. At least before entrance into the novitiate, were the fol-lowing testimonial letters demanded and obtained: a*) The common testimonial letters which are to be given by the local Ordinaries and are.prescribed for all (c. 544 § 2). b) The special testimonial letters which are to be given under oath by the Rector or Major Superior for those who have been in a Seminary or a residence-hall which is equivalent to an ecclesiastical one, or in a postulantship or novitiate of a religious Institute (c. 544 §3). c) Likewise the testimonial letters which are required in the case of clerics and professed religious (c. 544 §§ 4, 5). 154. Besides the documents and testimonials which are specially prescribed by law or by the Constitutions, were further informa-l~ ions, which it seemed necessary or useful to know in order to judge with certainty of the vocation and fitness of the aspirants, diligently sought (c. 544 § 6). Concerning impediments and admissfon 155. From what impediments or defects, if any, which are imposed by the common or particular law, was a dispensation granted; how often and by what authority was this done. 156. Were the admissions of aspirants always done by the com-petent Superiors, observing the rules of law (c. 543). Concerning the nouiceship~The house 157. Was every novitiate house erected or transferred after 215 ~EPORT TO ~OME Review [or Religious obtaining in advance the permission of the Holy See (c. 554 §§ 1, 2). 158. Does perfect religious observance flourish in the novitiate houses. 159. Did Superiors'assign to them or permit to remain in them religious who are hot exemplary in their zeal for religious observance (c. 55¢ § 3). Concerning the beginning of the novicesbip 160. Did all fulfill the prescribed days of spiritual exercises before entering the noyiceship (c. 541)~ 161. Were the rite and the rules prescribed for admission to the noviceship faithfully observed (c. 553). Concerning board and expenses for the postulantsfiip and nouicesbip 162. Is the right of the Institute to demand payment for the expenses of the religious habit and board during the postulantship and noviceship, given in the Constitutions or customarily recognized by express agreement. 163. Who determines the amount to be paid. 164. Was there any instance of the grave abuse of dela.ying the profession because the expenses of the postulantship or noviceshlp had not been paid. Concerning the giscipline of the novicesbip 165. Did all the novices and each of them from the beginning of the noviceship have a complete copy of the Constitutions. 166. Are the novices, according to law and the Constitutions, kept separate from the professed, and is any undue communication between them tolerated (c. 564 §§ 1, 2). 167. Did all and each of the novices before their profession per-form the canonical year of noviceship complete and continuous, without counting the first day, in a house of noviceship lawfully erected, under the care and direction of a Master (cc. 555 § 1, 556, 557). 168. Was the noviceship extended or shortened beyond the limits fixed by law (c. 571 § 2) and the Constitutions; if so, for how long a time and by what authority was this done. Concerning the government of the noviceship 169. Was there always in every novitiate a Master of novices 216 dul~l, 1950 REPORT TO ROME duly appointed or elected (c. 560). 170. Have the novice Master and his Socius all the qualifications and all the requisites prescribed by the common law (c. 559 §§ 1, 2) and the Constitutions, or did dispensations have to be asked for and obtained. 171. Are the Master and Socius free from all offices and minis-tries in or out of the house, which might interfere with their care and government of the novices (c. 559 § 3). 172. Do the Masters of novices, according to law (c. 561) and the Constitutions, under the vigilance and direction of Superiors and Visitors, have full possession of their proper authority and use it for the government and training of the novices. 173. Do all the Masters fulfill their office properly (c. 562) and remain constantly in the novitiate house. 174. Do the Master of novices and his Socius abstain from hearing sacramental confessions unless the penitents of their own accord ask them to do so according to c. 891. Concerning the spiritual training of the nooices 175. Were the novices, under the guidance of the Master, during the first or canonical year of the noviceship, engaged exclusively according to law (c. 565 §§ 1, 2) in exercises of piety and other exercises proper to novices; or on the contrary were they assigned to hearing confessions, preaching and external works or ministries; or " did they apply themselves expressly to the study of literature, sci-ence or humanities (c. 565 § 3) beyond the limited measure in which this has been approved by the Sacred Congregation. 176. During the second year of noviceship or during .the time which is over and above the canonical year, were the norms which were given in the Instruction of the Sacred Congregation of Religious (2 Nov. 1921 ) observed : a) Regarding the manner of exercising the external ministries of the Institute (nn. I, II). b) Regarding the conditions under which alone the novices may be sent outside the novitiate house (III). c) Regarding the two months' preparation for the profession (IV). Concerning the documents to be drawn up before the profession 177. Did all the novices, according to c. 569 § I, before the first 217 REPORT TO ROME Review [or Religious profession of simple vows, freely cede the administration and ~itber cede or dispose of the use and usufruct of their property. 178. In case the aforesaid cession and disposition was not duly made before the profession, or in case new property was acquired thereafter, was it made or completed after the profession (c. 569 § 2). 179. Were any changes of the aforesaid cession and disposition after the profession, made always in accordance with ¢. 580 § 3. 180. a) Did the novices of the Congregation, before their first profession of temporary vows, freely make a will in due form, valid according to the civil law, regarding their present or future property (c. 569 § 3). b) Did they afterward render this will valid according to the civil law (c. 569 § 3). 181. Were any changes which may have been made in this will after profession, made according to c. 583 2°. 182. Are the aforesaid documents a), b) faithfully kept in the Archives. Concerning admission to profession and the act of profession 183. Do the General Superior and General Council carefully and constantly keep a severe watchfulness as regards admissions; have they issued any special norms in this matter. 184. Does there seem to be in any Province too great facility regarding admissions, and have the prescribed norms and sound cri-teria been faitbfhlly observed. 185. Has the first profession, after eight full days of spiritual exercises, always been made validly and licitly according to law and the Constitutions (cc. 572, 573, 575) in the novitiate house itself (c. 574 § 1). 186. Was the prescribed rite observed in making the profession, and was the document attesting it duly drawn up (c. 576). Concerning the canonical examination 187L Did the Major Superioresses, or others acting in their name, two months before admission to the noviceship, to the first temporary profession and to perpetual profession, give timely notice to the local Ordinary (c. 552 § 1), so that he or his Delegate mlght gratuitously conduct the canonical examination regarding the free and conscious will of the postulant or candidate (c. 552 § 2). 188t. Was the prescribed examination always made. 218 July, 1950 REPORT TO ROME Concerning the dowry--The obligation and delivery of the dou)rg 1891". According to the Constitutions, is the dowry obligatory in the Congregation, or is it left entirely or partly optional (c. 547 §3). 1901". Was the delivery of the dowry made according to law (c. 547 § 2) and the Constitutions. Concerning the investment, conseroation, administration and return of the dou)rg 1911". Were the dowries, immediately after the first profession, always invested by the Major Superioress, with the deliberative vote of her Council and the consent of the Ordinary of the place where the capital of the dowries is kept (c. 549). 1921". Were the dowries spent or encumbered in any way b~fore the death of the religious concerned; if so, by what authority was this done. Were the dowries so spent or encumbered, even though it were done after obtaining lawful permission, afterward restored or cleared of the encumbrance; what is their condition at the present time (c. 549). 1931. Where and how are the dowries administered. Are the rules of law faithfully observed regarding their administration (cc. 550, 535 § 2). 1941. Is all property which is brought in as dowry, even though it be in excess of the sum required for a dowry in the Constitutions, or even though there be in the Congregation no obligation to bring in a dowry, accepted, invested, administered, etc. with the observance of the norms which govern dowries. 195t. In case of the departure of a professed religious, for what-ever cause it occurred, and in case of transfer, were the dowry and likewise the persona.l belongings which the novice brought with her at her entrance, in the condition in which they were when she left, restored to the religious departing or transferring, without the income which had already accrued (cc. 551, 570 § 2). 1961". Is this done also with property freely contributed for increasing the dowry even beyond the sum required by the Consti-tutions. 1971". In case of the departure of a professed religious who had been received without a dowry or with an insufficient one, if she was unable to provide for herself out of her own property, did the Insti-tute out of charity, according to law (c. 643 § 2), give her Whatever 219 REPORT TO ROME Reoieu; [or Religious was needed that she might safely and decently return home and be decently supp.orted for'a time. Concerning the profession and the renewal of profession 198. What if any dispensations were necessary for the pro-nouncement of the vows. 199. How many and what sanations were afterward necessary. 200. Were the temporary vows which are prescribed by law and by the Constitutions (c. 574 § 1), when the time for which they were taken had elapsed (c. 577 § 1), always renewed according to law (c. 577 § 2), so that no one ever remained without vows. 201. How often was the temporary profession extended beyond the six-year period allowed by law, and by what authority was this done (c. 574 § 2). 202. Conversely, how of

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

Issue 57.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1998. ; lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Cbristian lives. The articles in the jou.rnal are meant to be ~nformative, practical, bistorical, or inspirational,°written from a tbeologi.cal o.r spiritual Or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University. by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: FOPPEMA@SLU.EDU Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1998 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creatio.n of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP Joe~ Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Pa~icia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 4 contents 342 looking forward Encountering Hinduism: Being Stretched by God Elizabeth Hillis OCD presents her own experience of encountering another religion as a valuable gift and a new way of deepening our faith in God, who is always greater' than our understanding. 354 Towards the Millennium Donald Macdonald SMM ponders the different a'pproaches to the millennium--through our focus on circumstance or our focus on Christ. 368 pioneers Two 17th-Century Women of Wisdom: Mary Ward and Marguerite Bourgeoys Marion Norman IBVM presents, from the changing world of three and four centuries ago, two venturesome women as models of lived wisdom for the church and world of today. 387 A Path Traced Out: Providence in Mother Theodore Guerin's Life Mary Roger Madden SP draws a picture of Mother Theodore Guerin, a pioneer for the missions of the Sisters of Providence in the United States, who will be beatified on 25 October 1998. 33-8J Review for Religious 394 consecrated life Merger Issues and Ways to Address Them Beatrice M. Eichten OSF describes core issues involved when religious congregations seek some sort of merger and offers practical reflections on how to go about it. 4O7 Refounding by Honing the Purpose Concept Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR distinguishes two pursuits, purpose and values, and shows how such careful thinking can help religious in the renewal of their lives together. 419 living together Community: Intentional or. ? Catherine Harmer MMS clarifies the meaning of Christian community, with its four elements of support, challenge, accountability, and discernment. 429 Community Living: A Question of Balance Melannie Svoboda SND, on two continuums, sketches expectations and caring within religious communities and then offers individuals and communities some reflection questions. departments 340 Prisms 435 Canonical Counsel: The Evangelical Counsel of Obedience: Background and Development 441 Book Reviews ~dy-August 1998 Receive the Holy Spirit. Whose sins you shall forgive. prisms One of the most moving moments for me during a meeting with women and men religious in Johannesburg, South Africa, had to do with forgiveness and reconciliation. One of the participants, an Augustinian novice director, observed that, just as the government had set up a Truth and Reconciliation Commission to bring a certain peaceful closure to the painful memories of the apartheid era, so it might be help-ful in the church and in our various religious congrega-tions to establish a similar kind of commission. He noted: "The differences in policies and practices among whites, coloreds, and blacks--in our memberships and in our min-istries, not just between parish congregations but even within a single province of women or men religious---have caused pain and left scars that a church or religious-life truth and reconciliation commission might go a long way to healing." A deeply reflective silence followed, and then a chorus of voices began to express a universal agreement among the white, colored, and black religious present that this agenda needed to be pursued in future meetings among the conference members. Our life experience tells us that we human beings do not easily come to forgiveness and reconciliation. We even find the gift of forgiveness by God the most difficult of God's many gifts for us to accept. Commonly we try to earn forgiveness; we attempt to "make up" for whatever we have done badly or left undone. Our behavior is just as consistent in our relations with one another as it is with God. It is often evident in the way we offer forgiveness: on Review for Religious the condition that the person--whether it is my brother or sister, my son or daughter, my friend or fellow worker--performs in a way to deserve it. And yet forgiveness is just that: a gift "given for" someone. Jesus made it clear through his parables and his example that forgiveness is first a gift from God--given for us--and then God invites us into sharing the gift by the way we live. God so much wanted us to share in the divine way of acting that in the prayer that Jesus taught, it is the only petition to which our personal actions are connected: "Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us." Forgiveness is so far beyond our ordinary human capacities, Jesus seems to indicate, that, we need to pray for the gift in every "Our Father" we say. On that first Easter Sunday evening, Jesus appears to his dis-ciples-- all locked up in fear--and offers first for their peace the gift of his Spirit. With the permanent gifting of the Holy Spirit comes the power for us to forgive. The church for centuries has seen in these very words the foundation of the sacrament of rec-onciliation. But, long before the sacramental system was clearly delineated, the church understood the gifting of the Spirit and the power to forgive as an essential part of our Christian living in peace. Like Jesus, we are meant to stand ready always to forgive. The old saw "to err is human, to forgive divine" is very true. Even with the baptismal and confirmation gift of the Spirit, we more often feel weighted by our human meanness than moved by divine forgiveness. At first we might be inclined to think of forgiveness as being about the past. But, just as the Truth and Reconciliation Commission may be recalling past happenings only to look towards the future of South African society, so God's forgiveness of us and our forgiveness of one another always look toward the future--the way we will relate and the way we will act. That is why, as we prepare to enter into the third millennium, we need to invoke the Spirit. For our wbrld of age-old hatreds and fresh hurts cries out for us Christians to give witness to the precious gift of forgiveness. Giving witness to forgiveness--that will be our new evangelization. David L. Fleming SJ ~ly-August 1998 ELIZABETH HILLIS Encountering Hinduism: Being Stretched by God looking forward I am a Christian, a contemplative religious, yet for sev-eral years I have been learning about my God and about my faith from Hinduism. Is this a contradiction? Is it unusual? I do not think so. Religious pluralism surrounds us and allows us to cross boundaries that once set us apart from those who believe differently. Theologians study and write about how other religions experience God and the world; East-West dialogues have been set up between Christian and Buddhist monastic communities; in secu-lar and professional life we frequently encounter Hindus and Muslims, take classes in yoga, read about kundalini awakening, practice Zen sitting. How is the Catholic to grapple with the challenge to faith presented by such encounters? There is no easy answer, but from prayer-fully reflecting on my own experience I have gained some insights into this important adventure. First, I would like to make clear my belief that encountering.another religion is a valuable gift, that it is actually a divine call to open ourselves to a new way of finding ourselves in a world that is growing smaller, a new way of deepening our faith in God., who is always greater than our understanding. This gift may noF be for everyone, and it is seldom something we choose for ourselves. It just happens. Then we have to make room for it in our lives, room which may reorganize everything else. That is how Elizabeth Hillis OCD writes from Carmel of the Holy Family; 3176 Fairmount Boulevard; Cleveland Heights, Ohio 44118. Review for Religious it was for me, and this article presents some aspects of what I have learned in the process. My first direct contact with Hinduism was through a medical professional whom I met in 1989. From my first meeting with her, I was impressed with something that I felt instinctively had to do with her Indian origin and her Hindu beliefs. What drew me to her seems to have been related to the quality of her silence and serenity. Though busy with her medical practice and busy with being a wife and the mother of teenage children, she seemed to. possess a poise and centeredness, an evenness of mind and judgment, a detached yet focused compassion for her patients and colleagues that was unlike anything I had ever witnessed. She seemed to have a secret source of strength. She once gave this state of centeredness a Sanskrit name, sthita-prajna, and spoke of how she had seen this quality in her own mother the last time she saw her before she died. With her husband and children, she had returned to India to visit her parental home. Her mother had welcomed them joyously, but,. when it came time for them to leave, the mother was equally able to let them go. Her outward serenity seemed clearly to come from serenity within. It was the same quality that I had noticed in this woman. Stbita-prajna, written on a small piece of Post-it paper (that I still have!), was the beginning of my study of Hindu religious texts. My first reading was of the Bhagavad-Gita, probably the most pop-ular and widely read of all the Hindu scriptures, and that which is dearest to many Hindus. There, in the second chapter, I met stbita-prajna again, where K_rishna explains to Arjuna the qualities of an integrated person who can regard all things, persons, and experi-ences equally with detached interest. The Gita states: When a man puts from him all desires that prey upon the mind, himself contented in self alone, then is he called a man of steady wisdom. Whose mind is undismayed though beset by many a sor-row, who for pleasures has rio further.longing, from whom all passion, fear, and wrath have fled, such a man is called a man of steadied thought, a silent sage. Who l~as no love for any thing, who rejoices not at whatever good befalls him nor hates the bad that comes his way-- firm-stablished is the wisdom of such a man. And when he draws in on every side his senses from their proper objects as a tortoise might draw in its limbs--firm-stablished is the wisdom of such a man.~ ~uly-August 1998 Hillis ¯ Encountering Hinduism While this text does not represent the whole of Hindu thought, it does touch on an important element, the yoga (or practice) of renunciation. What is renounced here is not human activity or experience, but the tendency to attach oneself to human experi-ences in such a way that they destabilize the self. These are the "desires that prey upon the mind." Pleasures and sorrows, good and bad experiences, still come and go, but they no longer disturb the person who is established in the truth of the self (atman). Such a person lives in a state of equanimity, stbita-prajna, "steady wisdom" or stable consciousness. My friend had seen this in her mother, and I had seen it in her. In ~ubsequent conversations she explained her understand-ing of a related discipline, what the Gita calls karma yoga or the "yoga of detached action." All work is to be done with detach-ment because it is our duty. Attachment to the reward of our works ties us to what we do; nonattachment frees us from such bondage to deeds (karma). Therefore, detached, perform unceasingly the works that must be done, for the man detached who labors on to the highest must win through. (BG 3.19, p, 55) Furthermore, offering the work to God is a spiritual sacrifice that brings freedom. Content to take whatever chance may bring his way, sur-mounting all dualities, knowing no envy, the same in success and failure, though working still he is not bound. Attachment gone, deliverance won, his thoughts are fixed on wisdom: he works for sacrifice alone, and all the work he ever did entirely melts away. (BG 4.22-23, p. 59) The Gita goes on to teach that the person who is stabilized in self, sthita-prajna, and who engages in d~tached action, karma yoga, has yet another step to take toward complete integration and freedom: devotion or bhakti. This is to make all existence, all action, a means of loving God. The god referred to in the Gita is Krishna, an incarnation of Vishnu, and it is he who instructs Arjuna: "Let him sit, his self all stilled . . . his thoughts on Me, integrated, yet intent on Me" (BG 6.14, p. 66). Thus the stabi-lization of self and the yoga of detached action are not enough by themselves to bring liberation: one needs to focus the mind and heart entirely on a personal god. Bhakti (loving devotion) is nec-essary; a surrender to the divine being both completes the task of personal integration and makes it possible. Review for Religious The source of all am I; from Me all things proceed: this knowing, wise men commune with Me in love, full filled with warm affection . To these men who are ever inte-grated and commune with Me in love I give that integration of the soul by which they may draw nigh to Me. (BG 10.8,10, p. 78) Steady consciousness, detached action, and loving devotion to a personal god, such are a few basic teachings of the Gita which might be an interesting parallel to the Christian path toward union with God. But I am not sure that the study of Hindu texts alone would have held my interest if it had not been for the liv-ing example and friendship of a contemporary Indian woman who was willing to share with me her own experience of her religion. In addition to our infrequent conversations, I had the witness of her own life, which concretely modeled what I~read. She partic-ularly exemplified the path of karma yoga by making offerings to God of her everyday actions: her medical practice, her care of husband and children, driving a car, shopping. I am not speak-ing here of a woman who was externally "religious" in an obvious way. She was far from any Hindu community where she might visit a temple or gather with others in .devotional rituals. Her home, her clothing, her habits were fully American. Her children attended the local public high school. Yet she was attempting to conform her life to the wisdom of the Gita, to live an integrated life as best she could, to work with detachment, to teach her chil-dren the values and beliefs she had internalized. Did she succeed? It seems to me that she did in a way she never planned. In November 1991 she was diagnosed as having a brain tumor, which in spite of all treatment slowly took every-thing away from her: her medical practice, her power of thought and judgme.nt, and even life itself. In this situation of tragedy, she asked, not (as we all might) "Why me?" but "Why now?" She regretted more than anything that she would not see her chil-dren grow up. Yet at the same time she struggled to live in a spirit of self-surrender, one day at a time, sometimes feeling better, often feeling worse. I saw in her a growing search for a hope that could take her beyond the limitations of her physical weakness. From time to time she asked her husband to bring her to our monastery chapel, where she spent time in silent meditation, sit-ting beside him or with one of her sisters who had come from India to care for her. She brought all of her family to meet me, to Hillis ¯ Encountering Hinduism talk about meditation, or to share her questions on whether to seek further treatment. She asked for the address of a place of prayer where she could make a retreat, though she was never well enough to carry out this i~lan. . For me it is significant that this Hindu woman found in a Christian monastic setting a place where she could experience peace and gain insight again into how to live her life fully to the end. We had never spoken of religious questions with a view to converting one another, and yet, with each other's help, both of us had grown in following our own path to God. I like to think that, just as her %lues and beliefs had deepened mine, the witness of a contemplative religious had helped develop in her the "devo-tion" to a personal god that she knew from the Gita: Whoso at the hour of death, abandoning his mortal frame, bears Me in mind and passes on, acdedes to my own mode of being; there is no doubt of this . Then muse upon Me.always. for, if you fix your mind and soul on Me, you will, nothing doubting, come to Me. (BG 8.5,7, p. 72) I have no evidence that my friend found consolation in this text of the Gita as I do now when I think back to her last months. There comes a time when we cannot accompany those we love in their final journey. But knowing that these scriptures were part of the fabric of her life makes me sure that their content and mean-ing had been internalizeddn the way that we Christians have sim-ilar texts engraved in our memory and our heart: "Come to me, all you who labor and are heavily burdened, and I will give you rest" (Mr 11:28). In~ the end the truths that we live by, and die by, are very simple. I miss Shobha. I know that in some mysterious way my life was changed by our friendship. But it was also changed by the religious encounter that was the context of our relationship. Since her death I have studied Hinduism patiently and perseveringly from many different perspectives, and I know that I shall con-tinue to. do so because, just as it did in the beginning through her, this encounter with another religion still constantly reveals God to me. I have taken some time to detail what "happened" to me. Now I need to question how I have (or have not) integrated it into my life. How do I remain a Christian and deepen my Christian under-standing and commitments by learning from Hinduism? How Revlew for Religious does anyone stay balanced when crossing the boundary that nor-mally sets Christian experience apart from the non-Christian? I have formulated four guidelines for my own use, which could be applied to any situation of interreligious exploration, but which here I apply to my study of Hinduism. They are, briefly: (1) Take seriously the differences between my own tradition and that of another religion. (2) Pay attention to the details that I notice. (3) Follow the questions that naturally arise. And (4) keep looking back at my own tradition. First, I need to take seriously the differences between my Catholic beliefs, theology, and practices and those I see in a Hindu friend or read about in a Hindu text. Great injustice can be done both to my own self-understanding and to my real appreciation of the "other" if I look only for similarity of shared views or experience. We may have much in common, but there is probably a much greater area of difference. To over-look this, or to settle for a vague intuition of universal connectedness, is not helpful. It may even be harmful, and it is certainly not respectful of the other. It is usually not true that we are all saying the same things in dif-ferent words. Very often we are saying quite different things about the divine, about human life, and about the nature of human/divine interaction. I had to keep this realization in mind during my conversations with Shobha. It was necessary for me continually to ask myself what she meant by a certain explanation of her beliefs. I had to go to the texts she quoted and try to understand them as she did rather than separate out inspiring' thoughts that fit comfortably into my Catholic framework. An example is found in the texts quoted above from the Bhagavad-Gita and the Gospel of Matthew. In both places the words "come to me" are used, by Jesus and by Krishna. Yet the context shows that Matthew's Jesus is inviting his hearers to human discipleship in the present life, a discipleship which involves a specific sort of following, a willingness to learn of Christ, humility of heart, and the patient carrying of the burdens of life. On the other hand, the Krishna of the Gita calls the devo- How does anyone s tay balanced when crossing the boundary that normally sets Christian experience apart from the non-Christian? Hillis ¯ Encountering Hinduism tee to an inner concentration on his divine being, leaving behind any attachment to human life which could tie the soul to earthly existence and necessitate further cycles of rebirth. In both situa-tions divine comfort is offered to the person who approaches God in loving trust, but in one case the fulfillment given by Jesus is incarnational while, in the other case, material exis(ence must be transcended for the sake of merging with Krishna in his univer-sal form. On the surface it is natural that the words of Krishna would call to mind those of Jesus, but it must always be kept in mind that Krishna is not Christ, nor is his relationship to the devotee the same as that of Christ to the Christian disciple. It seems best to let the differences simply stand as they are. We can learn from the tension of holding these texts side by side and see-ing both what they are saying and what they are not saying. We also learn the detachment of letting others come to Krishna dif-ferently than we come to Christ. This recognition of difference leads into the second guide-line, to pay attention to the details we notice. It is in the details that we most frequently confront the differences that exist between religions. Although it may seem helpful to generalize about another religion in order to have a coherent way to grasp its tenets and the interrelationship of belief and practice, such generaliza, tion gives a false sense of mastery. It glosses over unwieldy facts which do not fit the pattern that a predetermined theology assigns to "non-Christian" experience. If we really want to take another religion seriously, it is worthwhile to read its sacred writings and hear what its followers have to say about themselves. This means attentive listening and openness to a diversity we might not expect. Unfamiliar mythology will frequently perplex us; moving rituals or insightful texts will possibly attract us; exotic practices may repel us. In one way or another, a good many unmanageable details will keep us aware that Hinduism is vast, complex, and varied in its expressions. It takes time and serious application on our part to identify and unlock the meaning of certain key con-cepts. Patient attention to the details we do not understand keeps us in a position of humility. There is much we may have to leave unexplored and unexplained. This is in itself a most respectful way of approaching the "other"--to acknowledge the mystery and to let it stand as it is. It is God we are meeting in this mys-tery of the other, God who acts in the lives .and values of real people who do not believe or think or Worship as we do, God Review for Religious whose grace is far more extensive than our theological constructs might have us realize. Details lead us to question what we are learning. It is impor-tant at this point to follow the questions that arise and to allow them to open new questions, new vistas of understanding, and new mys-teries of God that we cannot begin to penetrate. When the details make me aware that Krishna cannot really be considered a Christ-figure, that he teaches a very different sort of doctrine than Jesus, then I naturally begin to ask: Who is this Krishna? What is his origin? How is he human, how divine? What sort of deity is he? How do people relate to him, worship him, love him, serve him? Such questions are the heart of interreligious experience, but they probably cannot be asked until we have gone through the pre-liminary steps of taking seriously the other religion. As long as I do not consider Krishna to be an authentic deity for a con-siderable number of real people, there is a danger that I will consider him to be only a fable, a religious fiction that need not be reckoned with in a serious way. The situation becomes even more complex if I .begin to follow these initial questions and find that there is not only the Krishna of the Gita, but also the Krishna of north-Indian mythology and the Krishna of south-Indian devotional poetry. How are they the same deity and how different and how do the various strands of the Krishna tradition combine and intermingle? To find out who Krishna is will lead me to question what a deity is, how mythology is part of every religious figure, how story and experience and ritual play a part in the development of belief. These vast questions have opened up for me simply because I paid attention to details about a god who is foreign to my religious tradition. It soon becomes obvious that, to pursue these questions, one must study seriously. This is an important point because encoun-tering another religion has to engage more than my feelings of attraction or repulsion or my intuition of realities beyond words. I need to use my mind in a careful and persevering way in order to enter into the world of the Hindu, who may seem to have Encountering another religion has to engage more than my feelings of attraction or repulsion or my intuition of realities beyond words. ff~dy-August 1998 Hillis ¯ Encounte~ing Hinduism human feelings of devotion similar to mine, but whose way of thinking about religious truths may be unlike any systematic approach familiar to me. Unless thought is explored by thought, there can be no real understanding of the other. To set ourselves to this task is, in one sense, to pursue an unrealistic goal, because the scope of another religion is so vast and the context so for-eign. Yet the very impossibility of the endeavor to think beyond our categories is what calls us to begin, in whatever small ways we can. To try to think with a Hindu about her beliefs, even by read-ing a sacred text she treasures, to set aside prejudgments that would restructure her beliefs in a Christian framework, to thoughtfully pursue questions about the differences we see, but without ever coming to the end of those questions, is to stumble into the vastness of God with a new appreciation of how very limited is the human grasp of Divine Reality. Vv'hen it is so difficult and time consuming to learn about another religion, why would anyone bother? The reason may be that there is an Other whom we do not know and curiosity leads us to investigate beyond what is familiar and comfortable. The exploration of cosmic space is an example of the insatiable need we have to go where we have never been, to understand what we do not yet know. In the experience of going beyond our bound-aries, an incredible miracle can happen. Our astronauts experi-enced it the first time they walked on the moon. It was the miracle of looking back and seeing the planet Earth as one single unit, not a globe divided into nations and territories. It so changed their view of life that, when they returned home, they were impelled to do all they could for unity among the peoples who inhabit the planet, to share their vision of the whole with as many as could receive it. A similar paradigm shift occurs when we try to step into the world of another religion: we see the human quest for God in a different way than before. It becomes necessary to work for a more reverent view of the religious "other." It is no longer possible to criticize or to compete or even to compare; in whatever limited way we can, we must seek to understand. Boundaries between countries and differences between religions will continue to exist, and such differentiation is healthy. But the boundaries can become permeable; the differences can contribute to increased self, understanding. The last step in the process of learning from another religion seems to be that it leads us to keep looking back at our own tradi- Review for Religious tion. Whether we start our investigation because we are curious, or because it seems a good thing to pursue, or simply because it "happens" to us, we will always find it necessary to look back. We need to be firmly grounded in our own tradition and to be deepening our roots continuously as we look outward. In my case, many years of pondering the Scriptures, the Carmelite mystical tradition, and other Christian mystical writings--and some famil-iarity with theology--give me a stable position for looking into Hinduism. I am spontaneously attracted to the writings of Hindu mystics, and these, in turn, call me back to well-known Christian texts that seem almost parallel in their expression of the search for God. Let us put the above-quoted text from the Gita on detached work alongside a maxim of John of the Cross: Therefore, detached, perform unceasingly the works that must be done, for the man detached who labors on to the highest must win through. Content to take whatever chance may bring his way, surmounting all dualities, knowing no envy, the same in ~uccess and failure, though working still he is not bound. Attachment gone, deliverance won, his thoughts are fixed on wis-dom: he works for sacrifice alone, and all the work he ever did entirely melts away. (Bhagavad-Gita 3.19, 4.22-23, pp. 55 and 59) God is more pleased by one work however small, done secretly, without desire that it be known, than a thousand done with the desire that people know of them. Those who work for God with purest love not only care nothing about whether others see their works, but do not even seek that God himself know of them. Such persons would riot cease to render God the same services, with the same joy and purity of love, even if God were never to know of these. (St. John of the Cross, Sayings of Light and Love, 20)2 When texts are paired in this way, we can look back and forth between one tradition and another and gain from the light each one reflects upon the other. We see the obvious and important dif-ferences and the questions which these raise, but this need not prevent us from letting the two texts illumine one another. Francis X. Clooney SJ, to whom I am indebted for this insightful model of comparison, makes this comment about parallel texts: "As I read back and forth., each keeps showing me a way to the other, ~uly-August 1998 Hillis ¯ Encountering Hinduism and I end up with a doubled insight, a spiritual 'sense that goes beyond either text by itself. Pairing texts such as these creates a visual tension and emphasizes the enhancement of meaning occurring when we take our own tradition and another seriously and reverently, at the same time, together.''3 Such a bringing together of texts provides a way of integrat-ing our previous Christian commitment with any experiences that cross religious boundaries. Each encounter with the "Other" echoes back to something familiar even as it draws us beyond. We learn to look alternately in both directions without criticism or superiority, but in humble and careful appreciation. Actually what seems to take place when we look into another religion and then back at our own over a period of time is a weaving back and forth between the two in such a way that the ideas, texts, or expe-riences complement each other and intermingle fruitfully without distortion of their origin.al identity. We do not try to force par-allels, but merely look back and forth from one text to another where different traditions are attempting to grapple with com-mon questions about human experience of the divine. What I learned from Hinduism about sthita-prajna, about karma yoga, and about bhakti enable me to take a new look at detachment, duty, and devotion and at the freedom I have in sur-render to Christ. My frame of reference is not the same as that of the Gita; I am not a devotee of Krishna, but a disciple of Christ. Yet I believe I am a better follower of the gospel and a better reli-gious because of my contact with the Gita and with a woman whose life exemplified for me her Hindu beliefs. My questions about Krishna and what sort of deity he is lead me to look at what sort of God I worship and love and serve in Jesus. Without the vantage point of Hinduism, without (as it were) standing on the moon, I might not have had the perspective to look back and see in simpler terms the unity of my own Catholic faith and the rad-icality of my contemplative quest. I am certain that, without step-ping outside my own Catholic worldview, I would not have been grasped and changed by the vastness of God, who is very present in Hinduism in a way that will always be a mystery to me. The gift of encountering another religion is well worth the demands it makes on us in time, openness, vulnerability, or patient study. There is risk, but if we look back as well as forward, if we stay poised in the tension created by who we are as Catholic and how we are discovering God in non-Christian experiences, if we Review for Religious pay attention to differences, details, and questions, it is very pos-sible that we will be overtaken by the miracle of finding ourselves anew in a world of faith, where we learn from our non-Christian neighbor how very big God is. Notes ~ The Bhagavad-Gita 2.55-58, trans. R.C. Zaehner (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1969), p. 52. The Zaehner translation of the Gita is the most tex-tually accurate, but I quote with apology for the lack of inclusive lan-guage. The Sanskrit text meant "he" because it was primarily addressed to higher-caste males. 2 The Collected Vdorks of St. John of the Cross, trans. Kieran Kavanaugh OCD and Otilio Rodriguez OCD (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1991), pp. 86-87. 3 Francis X. Clooney SJ, "In Ten Thousand Places, in Every Blade of Grass: Uneventful but True Confessions about Finding God in India, and Here Too," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 28, no. 3 (May 1996), pp. 1-42, esp. pp. 2-3. See also his "Praying through the Non-Christian," Review for Religious 49, no. 3 (May-June 1990), pp. 434-444, and his Seeing Through Texts (New York: SUNY Press, 1996). In chapter 5 of this work, Clooney gives many illuminating examples of parallel Hindu and Christian texts. Many foreign missionaries depend upon people like you who donate subscriptions for them to Review for Religious. To start a subscription for a deserving missionary, please send $24 to: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Blvd. ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108 To pay by credit card, phone: 314-977-7363 or fax: 314-977-7362 L353.-- July-August 1998 DONALD MACDONALD Towards the Millennium Ibrecall a series of magazine articles on foreign travel written y people who had never been to the countries they described--this approach would be objective! The magazine was, of course, being humorous. But, in fast-moving times such as ours, we perhaps speak too glibly of the years ahead. Wisely, then, does Tertio millennio adveniente emphasize "preparation for." with a view to being ready for the psychological dynamism of a new beginning should it come. For it is better to examine the present moment with a view to the future than to just dream of what may or may not be. From the Christian perspective, we have the choice of cen-tering either on circumstance or on Christ. I shall sketch briefly what each of these choices means, and then examine them both at greater length. The center of gravity of mature individuals, it has been said, is always to be found where they actually are. Such people accept responsibility for and from the situation in which they now find themselves, even when it is a difficult one. While all of us grow older, not all of us grow up, and so not everyone manages to retain this center of gravity, this poise. We do not automatically mature. People try to avoid responsibility and look for the gap in the hedge. By profession, by publicly giving our word, we religious are considered to have invested ourselves in a group of people who have the intention of identifying with the will of God. Here we are Donald Macdonald S!VIM writes for us the first time eve~ from his native Scodand: Montfort House; Darnley Road; Barrhead; G78 1TA; Scotland, U.K. Review for Religious meant to strike root, and growing maturity should help us exam-ine the present and future landscape from that perspective. In practice, then, our center of gravity is either in circum-stance or in Christ. Present circumstances, like the electricity bill, seem so real as to define reality; they appear so immediate that response to them seems inescapable. Yet, if we are always latch-ing on to current circumstance, reacting to what we think is hap-pening, we should not be surprised to find ourselves with the patchwork personality of a rag doll. It is almost impossible to have a center of gravity in forever changing circumstance. To drive a particular car, the advertiser tells us, means "You know you are a success." Equally the ecology lobby may suggest an indifference to our present environment. Fashions change even in church and religious life. Wise are the religious who never iden-tify wholly with what they are doing at the expense of who they are. To have even a toehold in the present, it helps to have a foothold in the past; "real development is not leaving things behind as on a road, but drawing life from them as from a root.''~ Taking our identity and sense of worth chiefly from present cir-cumstance can never give us such a root; hence, as the millen-nium approaches, there is a sense of rootlessness among many people, people who are subject to the tyranny of the contempo-rary. On the other hand, what is our perspective on life when our center of gravity is in Christ? The ministry [of Christ] has gone on for nineteen centuries and more, and it still goes on. What is the secret of its stay-ing power? The answer of the whole New Testament is that it is the risen Christ himself who is carrying it out. It is very easy for us, who have been brought up in a scientific age, to think of Jesus bequeathing his principles and ideals to his followers and leaving it to them to take up and carry on the task he is presumed to have laid down somewhere about A.D. 30. That is not the New Testament picture at all. There can be little doubt that, if it had been left to the disciples to take up tasks, their choice would have fallen elsewhere . No: the secret of the matter is that it is Christ who picks up the threads, Christ who takes the lead, Christ whose presence and power are one constant inspiration and strength. The resurrection means above all just this, that Christians do not inherit their task from Christ, they share it with him. We are not the successors of Jesus but his com- ~dy-August 1998 MacdonaM ¯ Towards the Millennium panions. That is the measure both of our privilege and our personality.2 Insofar as this insight of faith matures and truly becomes our own, we are taken out of ourselves into a growing realization of the gift of God in Christ in the present moment. This should be an endless source of wonder. We mature as Christians precisely insofar as we realize the wonder of the companionship offered through our baptism into Christ--that we are in the church and with him in the church. Transfiguration into Christ should be seen as a real option. Generations of saints and the genuinely good prove it. There is a world of difference between "succes-sor" and "companion." If we have not matured in Christ, as the New Testament understands it, we shall never understand this, and that perspective will not be ours. We are then unable to see what is there in the present moment in Christ. We are left to look for meaning and purpose in life elsewhere, not least in response to circumstances over which we have little control. A Prey to Circumstance The first thing to be said about approaching the millennium under the tutelage of circumstance is that we may not see it. We may have died. We may, too, be ill or incapacitated. Our limited circumstances will be world enough for us then. Some of us may decide to jump ship to look for a safer berth outside of our order or congregation. This is understandable as a response to circum-stance. Circumstances change and we fear the changes. What will happen to us in the millennium? The thought of sitting among strangers all day in a home for the elderly run by the town coun-cil, with little status and less independence, can really frighten us. Seen as changing circumstances, the millennium means inse-curry. That then, for the first time since our prot~ession, we might find ourselves genuinely "poor in fact and spirit" (Perfectae cari-tatis §13) might weigh little against our fear of radically changing circumstances. We will likely feel bullied and frightened as the coming millennium takes us into an unfamiliar world that we can-not control. We may also be afraid of the changing culture, particularly in the West. The values which to some extent have formed us and to which we have tried to give our lives may increasingly be pushed to the edge. The sales person with a product nobody wants is in Review for Religious a frightening position. Contemporary movers and shakers who set the pace and seem to write the agenda for living may marginal-ize us. The millennium may see us, then, washed further up onto the shore of utter irrelevance. Who are we then? From a Christian standpoint, there is a progressive coarsen-ing of life generally. The positive values of our culture--built on our Judeo-Christian ethic, however imperfectly practiced--have hitherto managed to order relationships between individuals, neighborhoods, bureaucracy, law, and society. Shared assumptions mapped out life around us. This is now changing. The unborn, children, and the elderly are particu-larly vulnerable. The intrinsic dignity of individuals as created by God and redeemed by Christ, along with that dignity's call for respect, is under increasing pressure as the gospel light which illumined human reality is dimmed. Tabloid newspapers and media culture generally appear to be governed by "the bottom line." People are treated cruelly and privacy is invaded as the poor and immature are exploited to make a dead-line. The worldwide picture seems even worse. Power, money, and sex have always been dominant in human behavior, but the pounds, francs, and dollars purchased in that world are often at the expense of the basic currency used there--people. Inevitably, reli-gious whose identity is primarily from circumstance will be influ-enced when not overwhelmed by this. They may approach the coming millennium in a state of free-fall, with numbing fear rather than challenging expectation. Contemporary culture is not wholly negative. The concern for our global environment is a positive value without being made an ersatz religion as well. There is, too, an active social concern to better the lives of people worldwide. But even here, with icons like Francis of Assisi, Mother Teresa, and many a selfless Christian neighbor, the picture painted is often of the church scrambling to catch up with something contemporary and worthwhile whose impetus comes from elsewhere. Whether this is true or not is beside the poin.t to people who take their cue. mainly from the present situation. We mature as Christians precisely insofar as we realize the wonder of the companionship offered through our baptism into Christ. y~uly-dug'ust 1998 Macdonald ¯ Towards the Millennium A further positive value is a growing awareness of transcen-dence and the spiritual. The church, which religious represent and which, one might think, could offer so much here, is again dis-advantaged. A common perception is that the Christian religion emphasizes morality at the expense of spirituality whereas Buddhism, for example, gives primacy to spirituality. It is sad to see this, but in practice it is often the gospel as lived and preached even by committed believers. The Pauline way of centering first on Christ, and then from within that companionship being open to life regardless of circumstance, is far from universal in Christianity as commonly experienced. There is often no real understanding of the motivation for Christian behavior. Religious marked with that lack are handicapped in approaching the mil-lennium. We cannot bring to the millennium values we do not yet have. An increasing desire for the spiritual cannot be met by religious who do not know how to mine that seam from within the past aiad present of their church. Whoever thinks of the future must be concerned with the worrying question of vocations to religious life. In much of the world, families are becoming smaller. The two-child family is not especially suited to being the home of vocations to religious life. And, with family relationships frequently breaking up, the home is not often a likely place for the nurture and support of religious vocations. Against this background the'shortage of candidates cannot just be put down to "bad" men and women religious not living up to the evangelical life to which they are committed. Young people growing up in a sometimes decadent media/pop culture readily get used to being fed on a diet of having rather than giving. "What's in it for me? It does nothing for me! The magic's gone! I'm too young for responsibility!"--such words, all turning on the idea of self-fulfillment, do not create a seedbed for future vocations to any form of adult Christian life. Long-term, open-ended, lifelong commitment is increasingly rare in contemporary culture. Nothing lasts. You are always let down. In nominally Christian communities, many adults do not mea-sure up and do not take responsibility for where they are. The increasing spread of what is held to be politically cor-rect can suffocate an authentic gospel life. The young, especially, need vision and courage if they are not to succumb, in an endless succession, to one or another flavor of the month. Often what is politically correct may not be evangelically right. A newspaper Review for Religious" cartoon, for example, shows a schoolboy buying cigarettes and asking the shopkeeper to wrap them in a copy of Gay News--an acerbic comment on a government policy advocating sixteen as the minimum legal age for homosexual relations while holding to the age of eighteen for buying cigarettes. In webs of circumstance like this, many young people may not be able to hear a call to religious life that is otherwise clear and inviting. Another problem today is that for many young persons the test of reality is how they themselves experience life. No one, particularly no authority figure, is going to tell them how to live their life! They are free! Vv'hat counts is what is trueJbr them. Reality is what they feel it is. Drawing upon a wealth of 20th-century experience, they are chary of giving ourselves to a guru, whether secu-lar or Christian. From the infamous results of "only obeying orders" to the pain caused by religious guides with feet of clay, the path is littered with casualties, and the hurts go deep. What people do not so well defend themselves against--and it can be just as damaging--is losing, unawares, their freedom regarding some contemporary matters, matters about which they adopt unthink-ingly the politically correct answer. The fetters here can hold as firmly as any medieval mindset is alleged to have done, and the damage may be terminal. To vow ourselves to God in religious life means that, to a greater or lesser extent, we commit ourselves to an overarching tradition and to a particular superior. Few people like constraint, and today God, parents, teachers, and other authority figures are often treated with pointed disrespect. There seems to be a com-pulsion for people to assert themselves in opposition to them, whereas nonauthority figures are often worshiped and can take us where they will. If the surface aggression is paramount, there is litde place for trust, and so a genuinely gospel community can-not be built. If this immaturity is carried to the approaching mil-lennium, there will be an inbuilt fault in the foundations of whatever we attempt to create. In the church, superiors are sometimes seen as the unaccept-able face of religion. Yet someone has to be willing to take the The increasing spread of what is held to be politically correct can suffocate an authentic gospel life. J~dy-August 1998 Macdonald * Towards the Millennium responsibility, especially in our unsetded times. It may cost much. The superior, in thrall to circumstance, will suffer particularly, always presupposing his or her own integrity while in office. A for-mer provincial superior, reflecting on his time in office, said; "One loses one's innocence when one is in a position of author-ity. Would it were otherwise"--but he notes that the great major-ity are not the cause of his hurt.3 Cardinal Basil Hume OSB, archbishop of Westminster, spoke of being misunderstood, misrepresented, disliked, criticized, and written off as a disaster.4 (Of course, this kind of thing, in today's jargon, "goes with the territory," but also is not always unde-served.) Yet now he has come to see such suffering as really a blessing. The disguise may seem impenetrable, but the blessing is there. When circumstances chastened and hurt him despite his best endeavors, he found it a marvelous way to grow in the Spirit. In the situation he came to see that only the gospel lasts. Everything else falls away, and ultimately he is graced with the realization that there is only the fidelity of God in Christ to be relied on. St. Paul, writing from prison, would agree: "God. has gra-ciously granted you the privilege (charis) not only of believing in Christ, but of suffering for him as well" (Ph 1:29). When we feel hemmed in and hurt by circumstance as we approach the millen-nium, it would help immeasurably if we were at home with the small print of the gospel. It really does translate experience for us--provided that we focus in any and every situation not on cir-cumstance, no matter how immediate, but on our risen Lord. The Company of Christ and Each Other As the basic guide for religious "is a following of Christ as proposed by the gospel" (Perfectae caritatis §2), it follows that to attempt this we need to know how to approach the New Testament, where the authentic portrait of Christ is to be found. We should test the assumption that, come the millennium, we will really know how to do this. It is the claim of Pope John Paul II that, given "the prayerful and meditated reading of the word . . . a humble and loving lis-tening to him who speaks., one's own vocation can be discov-ered and understood, loved and followed, and one's own mission carried out.''s This is a major claim, but the Holy Father rein- Review for Religious forces it when he says "the person's entire existence finds its uni-fying, radical, meaning in being the terminus of God's word." That is to say, if we mature into habitually, instinctively being a terminus of the gospel, all the threads of a situation and the capac-ity of life to shock or puzzle us will be brought together; whatever lies deepest in us will be reached; and we will be given to see pur-pose in life. For many this is but a worthy platitude, notionally true but factually unreal. Yet the claim stands. If we can find our way to becoming a terminus of the word of God, we will not nec-essarily have a trouble-free life, but we will be given a security which jostling circumstance cannot unsettle. We are, as has been well said, then in touch with the Pilot. Imagine if we approached the millennium from within that perspective, knowing it to be true! A cameo, chiefly from a few verses of Philippians 3, gives us a glimpse of how this might be done and of the dividends to be gained from doing it. From prison St. Paul wrote to his people in Philippi to thank them for remembering him there and for gen-erously sending one of their number to help and encourage him. The backdrop to the letter (and, in truth, the foreground to Paul's understanding of community) is soon stated: "I thank my God . ¯. for your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now" (1:3,5). Invariably it is "us" with St. Paul, never "me and you" unless he is forced to "speak like a fool" in defense of his stand-ing as a genuine apostle. This fellowship (koinonia) between Paul and his people, which stems from the realization of their oneness in Christ through baptism, is the overall context in which the interchange of the letter takes place. When, as here, it is under-stood and reciprocated, it both thrills and puts new heart into him. He writes from within the strength of that relationship to encourage it and further it. That insight of responsibility for each other in Christ is as valid today as then. If we approach the millennium determined to make our baptismal fellowship real by investing ourselves in the c.ommunity, we will communicate, at a deep level. It should be a priority and is well within the competence of most of us if, for example, it is expressed in a word of appreciation, a word of sym-pathy, a word of encouragement, a word of thanks. These are the building blocks, and the present moment is the time and place to lay them. As we know from experience, a word "in season," when genuinely meant, does really help and might encourage us and ~tly-Augttst 1998 Macdonald ¯ Towards the Millennium those around us to reach and welcome the millennium. "Friends are facts, and the good things you have done to them are facts," said G.K. Chesterton. This is time usefully and evangelically spent. Only insofar as we mature in Christian life will we do this and be able to sense how shoes pinch other people's feet. St. Paul writes of his present situation: "I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things" (3:8). The verb suggests total loss as in shipwreck or business failure. Everything has gone--family, status, career, security, good name. He writes from prison now. Initially he was compelled to leave Philippi after being given the standard flogging for a trouble-maker. His present situation follows the same pattern. Then, as now, circumstances are none of his choosing, but in the situation, as Cardinal Hume and many others found when similarly placed, he finds God in Christ: "for his sake I have suffered the loss of all things., in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him" (3:8-9). He is in fact in prison, but Paul knows that he is in Christ! There is his center of gravity. From the viewpoint of circumstance, his fidelity to the call of God's providence in Christ has wrapped him in rags and insecurity. The same situation, seen from the insight of faith, is altogether worthwhile, for it enables him to "gain Christ and be found in him." This is a superb place to be, with an enviable grasp of reality. What a center to move out from! Religious approaching the millennium would do well to try to make that perspective theirs. Whatever the circumstance, our risen Lord is there. We date the present from the moment of Christ's birth. He is our companion now. Each moment of each day as well as the millennium finds us wanting "to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his suffering by becoming like him in his death" (3:10). The verb implies close identity, and again transfiguration is offered as a real possibility. Paul discovered this not by whisding in a cemetery or in a library, but by applying the insight of faith to the circumstances of every-day life, good days and bad. Attempting in such company to become a terminus of the word of God offers us virtually unquan-tifiable dividends. Finally, for our purposes, Paul says, "I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own" (3:12). Again the situation is prison. Paul writes of racing to the finish of a race Review for Religious when in fact he is not going anywhere without his jailers' per-mission. The marathon of the Christian life which he entered at baptism is not particularly concerned with going from A to B to C, Rather, it means interpreting the present situation through a progressive deepening of understanding of what it means to be in Christ, There is never a situation or circumstance where our risen Lord is not there. Even in the isolation of crucifixion, if life is so cruel, even there we are nailed to the cross with Christ. Paul says that he has not yet fully matured in Christ. There is always more to be sounded in those unfathomable depths. The dynamic here is the wonderful realization that "Christ Jesus has made me his own." He wants to hold as he is now being held. Held within the security of his Lord who rose from a grave to make him "his own," Paul is a driven man. He is aware that his present situation may cost him his life--"I am being poured out as a libation" (2:17)--but it can never separate him from Christ. From this unchanging center, there is much more to be received and, within himself, much still to be surrendered. So, from within the security of his risen Lord whatever the circumstance, Paul is "still running, trying to capture the prize for which Christ Jesus captured me" (3:14). The imaginative appeal Of the imagery comes from an imprisoned Christian individual writing a letter of thanks and encouragement to his no doubt frightened people. So much seems to go so wrong so often. Yet he would have them think as he does: "Let those of us then who are mature be of the same mind" (3:15). Just what does he see? Religious who would be more mature as they approach the millennium could usefully examine their situation from that perspective. Does that insight interpret life for us at any level? Baptism into Christ means an invitation to a present relationship with God through the Spirit, not just loose membership in a particular group. Religious life has no other purpose than to invite us to enflesh that in ourselves by attempting to live for God alone at one with his will. The experience of St. Paul in times past is not without value, but what if it could be mine now? Understood from within a Spirit-graced Christian community, it pays altogether richer div-idends. It is not just an example of what someone did then, but an There is never a situation or circumstance where our risen Lord is not there. Macdonald ¯ Towards the Millennium invitation to consider what we can do now. This is interpreting life in the light of the gospel. Unifying, radical meaning is on offer here to those who try to be habitually open to receive. In Christ ours is a present reality. We are his companions, not his succes-sors trying to make what we can of a long-dead tradition. Accordingly, "to mature" means here that we have Someone to give and someone to be. This is not the least of what we can bring to the millennium. If we stay rooted in Christ, into whom we have been bap-tized, we can come to know that immediate circumstance is not all there is in defining present reality. There is no need to approach the millennium like stunned rabbits caught in the headlights. In Christ there is a vast arc of gospel fellowship among the living and the dead, all held in the present moment. We are one in Christ with so very many; and, if we can mature in their faith, we shall be given to see meaning in life. Rather than consider the millen-nium a milestone to be reached at a future date, a milestone that is being surrounded more and more by the massed choirs of the advertising media, why not stay where we are now in Christ and let the millennium (as indeed any circumstance) come to us? Always to be in the one place in Christ!--our center of gravity, our spiritual focal point, can only become more secure as we more and more see God giving himself to us there in Christ. This is where we are. We can then try to interpret circumstance through our risen Lord, knowing that, whether life is good or ill, we are never without the power of his resurrection or the fellowship of his suffering. Travel Light This is not to ~dvocate the passivity of a cow in the field. How could it when the reality of our life comes from our risen Lord who has made us his own? This is energizing, delightful presence, compelling us to be enlivened by it. Whatever a future calendar date brings, it cannot break that firm bond. Ultimately, it is all there is. We then want to make Christ really our own as he has made us truly his. For religious this should mean a hard look at our rule or founder's insight in the light of the gospel. We may have accumulated much. A mere middle-class lifestyle-- without the potentially maturing presence of husband, wife, or child--will not attract or challenge others. Should we not travel Review for Religious light to the millennium? Circumstances may be stripping us of much that we are attached to and find hard to give up, but we can nonetheless choose to drop even more. More has to be done to make our fellowship in the gospel a practical, reality. Arguably, the word community is heard now more than ever before, although there seems to be less of it. Religious profess to find God's will among a particular group of people. But only insofar as the risen Christ is real to them do imperfect individuals, living among others also imperfect and even dys-functional, have the courage to attempt this. If anything is to come of it, then, Christian maturity is essential. Without it we have nowhere to come home to--and indeed no one to be. It is no small achievement to welcome the millennium in the company of Christ and in full awareness that this company is all we have. How best to have this awareness in changing circumstances and amid lessening numbers is a problem. It is for different people to find various solutions in view of their temperaments and God-given gifts. No one can read the future, but, as T.W. Manson pointed out earlier, we are Christ's companions and the initiative of the entire gospel enterprise lies with him. There is no future for the maverick away from Christ. Inspirational individuals will always be found among those who habitually listen to the gospel, wishing to follow wher-ever it leads. Risk, challenge, and retrenching may be factors in an apostolate for the millennium. Community, it has been said, should be more like a hive than a nest. Ultimately, if the millennium finds us in Christ as the gospel understands this, we shall reflect his presence there. The pres-ence of Christ is the one ageless gift we have to offer. Circumstances change and situations sometimes frighten and even crucify, but the underlying reality for those who see with eyes of faith is the presence and power of our risen Lord. Here is where we live and move and have our being. We let life come and find us here. But we cannot do this complacently. We must foster a growing sense of awe and of our good fortune. The more real this awareness of presence is, the keener are we to share it with others. The sacraments (not least the Blessed Sacrament) are realities of presence, and we should try to share The presence of Christ is the one ageless gift we have to offer. d~lly-Augvtst 1998 Macdonald ¯ Towards the Millennium what we find there. They feed us as our life progresses. They are glimpses of life at the heart of our community, and they reflect mystery at the heart of reality. There is much more here than we can see, even graced by the insight of faith. As companions of Jesus, one with him and each other through baptism, we need to try to bring gospel fellowship to people in ways they can understand. Circumstances had Paul in prison miles away from his anxious people. To encourage him they sent one of their number. To thank them he wrote them a letter. They did what they could in less-than-ideal circumstances. Although cir-cumstances do not allow us to do all that we would like, we should not be discouraged from trying to do what we can with what falls into our hands. Remember, the initiative is from the presence and Spirit of our risen Lord. When we are open to his presence, we find we have a community; we have Someone to share. The millennium offers a challenge, and one of the best ways to meet it is for ourselves, our individual selves, to really make Christ our own and so try to be found always in him--and then to give from that center and invite others to meet Christ there. Our Lady and a cloud of saints once lived this life of faith, and, whatever the reasons for moving their statues from our churches and communities, we should again savor their company now in Christ. In the fellowship of the gospel, they can be real and not static presences. Many a secular idol will be worshiped as we approach the millennium. The Christian community can offer more than that. It was individuals sharing with others what they themselves had been inspired to see of the gospel who thereby inspired oth-ers so that even more followed and formed our various religious orders and congregations. We present-day members, perhaps feel-ing our lack of inspiration or vision, would do well to recognize our situation for what it is. If we are afraid, let us admit it, but let us not focus on fears without bringing to them the faith vision that so helped Paul and his people. For them this was no theo-retical exercise. It. could be equally real for us. "A loving knowl-edge of the word of God and a prayerful familiarity with it are specifically important for the prophetic ministry," says Pope John Paul. This echoes the conviction of the best in the church over centuries. This insight had and has now the power both to form an elite and encourage the frail. Review for Religious i G.K. Chesterton, The I~ctorian Age in Literature (London, no date), p. 12. 2 T.W. Manson, The Servant Messiah (Cambridge University Press, 1953), p. 98. 3 R. Rolheiser OMI, "The Last Word," The Catholic Herald (London), 4 July 1997. 4 Cardinal Basil Hume OSB, "Reflections on Leadership" (keynote address at Conference of Religious, 1997), Signum, 20 February 1997, p. 10. s John Paul II, Pastores dabo vobis, 1992. This and the next two quo-tations are from §47. Spirit Prayer Spiritt. Holy! Stirring birds and buds and Buddhists, Moving mothers, monks and Muslims, Turning wheels and churning waters, Shifting rocks and shaking ridges, Sweeping fields and forests, Raising bread and bodies, Spinning dreams and dancers, Whirling clouds and clowns, Filling sails and souls, sifting, Sounding, Singing, Sighing, Spirit, oht. Do what you do, Dance where you dance, Blow when you blow, Move us to move, To break from the laze of our days At the Word we have heard, With the Breath that will lift us from death. Mary Alban Bouchard CSJ j~dy~August 1998 MARION NORMAN Two 17th-Century Women of Wisdom: Mary Ward and Marguerite Bourgeoys pioneers Wisdom, which in biblical literature is usually personi-fied as a woman, is described in Proverbs 8:12-14 as "mis-tress of the art of thought" who shares house with Discretion; hates pride and arrogance, wicked behavior, and a lying mouth; and is a source of good advice, pru-dence, and perception. The Hebrew words for wisdom and wise man (hokhmah, Ex 36:2, and hokham, Jr 9:23) are used in various ways throughout the Old Testament to connote the skills needed to carry out tasks successfully. Hokhmah implies a deeper quality than cleverness, and hokham means not a clever know-it-all but a sage, one who, having acquired knowledge of the world and human nature, can penetrate to the depths of the human situa-tion, seeing it as a whole and then sharing that vision by giving prudent advice or immortalizing it in the form of proverbs or aphorisms. The prophet Jeremiah declares, "Let not the wise man (hokham) glory in his wisdom; neither let the mighty man glory in his might." In rabbinic literature, however, the wisdom of Proverbs has come to refer to the "wisdom of the Torah,". and the wise man now becomes the scholar Marion Norman IBVM (Loretto Sisters) presented this paper, here slightly revised, at the International Mediaeval and Renaissance Conference in Banff in May 1997. Her address is Loretto College; 70 St. Mary Street; Toronto, Ontario MSS 1J3; Canada. Review for Religious well versed in the Torah. The identification of Torah with wisdom dates from Deuteronomy (4:4-6): See I have imparted to you laws and rules, as the Lord my God has commanded me, for you to abide by in the land which you are about to invade and occupy. Observe them faithfully, for that will be proof of your wisdom and dis-cernment to other people, who on hearing all these laws will say, "Surely that great nation is a wise and discerning people." Thus, from originally implying little more than technical abil-ity, wisdom took on moral and religious connotations. In time it became synonymous with reverence for the Lord, as expressed in the Book of Proverbs: "Reverence for the Lord is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and instruction" and "Let your trust be in the Lord. to show what is right and true" (Pr 24:7, 22). Hebrew wisdom was not alone in leaving its indelible mark on Western culture. Greek and Roman wisdom (usually referred to as philosophy) played a significant role as well, as did the leading Hellenistic philosophers, who claimed to teach their disciples how to live by providing moral instruction about what was right and wrong and how best to carry out their duties as individuals and in social relationships. Early Christianity perceived a certain affinity between its own aims, as expressed in the Sermon on the Mount, and those of Judaism and the best Greco-Roman philosophies. All three strains had a great influence on Western culture and, at the time of the Renaissance, came together to provide the intellectual, social, and religious context for the kinds of wisdom exemplified by the two 17th-century women of wisdom who are the subjects of this study. My selection of them has not been arbitrary. That the Bible even more than the Greco-Roman classics has' been the principal source of inspiration for both readers and writers of English lit-erature has long been recognized. Little wonder, then, that the biblical ideal of wisdom was carried over into the conduct of peo-ple's daily lives. This was particularly true of women, who, deprived of formal education in the s~ven liberal arts (reserved almost exclusively for males), relied on biblical primers and the Bible itself as their sole textbooks. We read, for instance, of female servants, shopkeepers, and housewives, especially among the Puritans, painfully acquiring a knowledge of the original biblical July-Aug'ust 1998 Norman ¯ Two 17th-Century Women of Wisdom languages for better access to the scriptural message. And, with the greater availability of biblical texts since the invention of printing and the Reformers' stress on the Bible as the "sole rule of faith," reliance on individual inspiration assumed central sig-nificance. The biblical concept of wisdom saw God as the source of wisdom for individuals seeking humbly to discover and imple-ment it as it was spelled out in the Torah. Each of these two 17th-century women received intimations of the direction in which the Lord was leading her, and, responding with docility and trust, received further clarification about God's plan for her in her own daily living. The response of Mary Ward (1585-1645) and Marguerite Bourgeoys (1620-1700) to God's invitation had implications both negative and positive. It meant, first of all, rejecting the usual pattern of marriage and family in favor of an exclusive conse-crated discipleship, freeing them for the service of the entire Christian community. This, in turn, involved a readiness to leave home and country if God asked it of them. Mary Ward For Mary Ward, at a moment in English history when adher-ence to the traditional religion was proscribed by the state and its preservation imperiled, the immediate need, as revealed to her by God and further discerned by experience, was for a total and free commitment to God that would flow out into love for oth-ers. She felt empowered to reach out to new needs and to devise whatever might be required to meet those needs. Inevitably, how-ever, the wisdom imparted in her close union with God in prayer entailed "the rejection, in whole or in part, of older, conventional patterns and methods that were no longer meeting new needs and situations. The clash between fidelity to divine guidance and official representatives of authority, as in the case of earlier bib-lical prophets like Isaiah and Jeremiah, was inevitable. Mary Ward's own response, which she constantly urged on her com-panions as well, was single-minded and unequivocal: "After busi-nesses I go to find myself in God, without any will or private interest and with a will only to have his will, which I cease not till I find."1 Mary understood this open and faithful orientation to God's will--desiring solely to love God and refer all actions to Review for Religious him--as adapting to the lives of consecrated women the lifestyle the church had already approved for Jesuits in their Formula insti-tuti. Precisely what this would entail was not revealed to her at once. In the first half of the 17th century, the cultural climate cre-ated by the Puritan and Parliamentary ascendancy brought forth a highly vocal group of educational reformers such as John Milton, John Dury, Marchmount Nedham, Samuel Hartlib, and Jan Comenius. At the same time the new scientific movement-- inspired by Francis Bacon as spokesman and promoted, under royal sponsorship, by the Royal Society of London--put Britain in touch with parallel interna-tional movements in France, Italy, and elsewhere. Voices of dissent were not failing, moreover, to speak out coura-geously on behalf of neglected groups of people--especially children of the poor and girls and women. These asserted, by their writings and actions, the rights of the counterculture against the prevailing climate of opinion, including the tendency to denigrate women. It is in the light of such conflicting views on the aims, con-tent, and methods of instruction that the enlightened and coura-geous leadership of women of wisdom like Mary Ward and Marguerite Bourgeoys should be seen. Although 17th-century politicians, theologians, and educational theorists were united in seeing the inadequacy of the current educational system to meet changing needs and priorities, they could agree on little else. Neither Francis Bacon nor John Milton apparently perceived women's education as necessary or even desirable. None seemed to see the value of preparing future mothers who would be responsible for the basic training of the young as future morally responsible and loyal citizens. For English Catholics the educational situation was particularly critical. Harassed politically, sodally, and economically and denied access to such employment as their rank and abilities deserved, they were crippled by taxes for nonattendance at Anglican services and threatened with imprisonment or death for possessing Catholic The biblical concept of wisdom saw God as the source of wisdom for individuals seeking humbly to discover and implement it. July-Aug~tst 1998 Norman ¯ Two 17tb-Century Women of V~dom books or providing accommodation to priests or Catholic instruc-tors. At an early age their children were forced to seek schooling on the continent, facing for up to nine years the loneliness, the foreign customs, languages, and climate, and the other handicaps of exile. Those without the necessary means were denied even basic instruction, while the care of the needy, the sick, the dis-abled, the aged, and the prisoners was entirely dependent on what-ever could be provided by families or individuals. Little wonder that the principal responsibility for transmission of and instruc-tion in the faith heritage devolved on the womenfolk and that, in the face of growing apostasy and indifference, a sound education for women as well as males came to be of crucial importance. Mary Ward, called by a recent historian "the greatest Englishwoman of the 17th century," was born at Mulwith near Ripon, Yorkshire, on 23 January 1585 (shortly before the defeat of the Spanish Armada) and died 30 January 1645 (shortly before the beheading of Charles I at the height of the Civil War). She came from a family noted for its staunch loyalty to the old reli-gion, which had been proscribed in England for more than sixty years. Failure to swear to the Acts of Supremacy and Succession and to attend services weekly in the local Anglican parish church made heads of families liable to imprisonment or even death. Mary's own parents and grandparents and she herself experienced such imprisonment, and several relatives were executed for their faith. The year before her birth, her fellow countrywoman, Margaret Clitherow, had been martyred at York. Like most children in such devout Catholic families, Mary received her early schooling and religious instruction in her own home and in homes of relatives and family friends. During those years she first felt the call to follow Christ in a life consecrated by vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Since the time of Christ and the Apostles (as can be seen in the New Testament), women as well as men had chosen such a way of loving discipleship. From the Middle Ages, too, despite the weight of authority against women's right to education or the exercise of leadership outside their own homes, a surprising quantity of writ-ings by women has survived. Exceptional women like Hildegard of Bingen and Catherine of Siena played prominent roles that changed the course of history, notwithstanding the patriarchalism of church and state. Until the early 17th century, however, women's accepted' mode of service of Christ, apart from that of "helpmeet" Review for Religiotts in marriage, was a lifetime spent in contemplation within monas-teries such as those of Poor Clares and Carmelites. After the dis-solution of religious houses in England, that meant for Englishwomen a lifetime of exile in some foreign climate. Prayerful discernment, as well as natural prudence and obser-vation, convinced Mary that the best way for her to give her life to the service of her "Friend of friends" would be, not marriage, but "some other thing., without all comparison more to the glory of God.-2 Further light came in November 1615 regarding the kind of holi-ness which that "other thing" would require. Rejecting the commonly held view that "women could not do good except to themselves," Mary envisioned a different kind of women's vocation, one engaged in education and other works "congruent to the times." Her institute would be one marked by "a singular freedom from all that could make one adhere to earthly things, with an entire application and apt disposition to all good works." Members would "refer all to God," doing "works of justice. [We would] be such as we appear and appear such as we are . Grounded in this, we should gain at God's hands true wisdom."3 Mary defined what came to be called her concept of "the Just Soul" in terms of three kinds of freedom: freedom from attach-ment to worldly values, freedom for all works of justice necessary in this world, and freedom to "refer all to God." Her words for this special kind of holiness ~'evealed to her were "freedom," "justice," and "sincerity" (or "verity"), the qualifies by which we as human beings participate in God's own life of goodness and wisdom, and which, she insisted, we have the right to ask and expect of God. What seems clear is that Mary, considering these three free-doms of "the Just Soul" to be the qualities essential for living out the ideal of Christian holiness as envisioned by Ignatius Loyola, could see nothing to prevent their application to women as well Mary defined "the Just Soul" in terms of three kinds of freedom: freedom from attachment to worldly values, freedom for all works of justice necessary in this world, and freedom to "refer all to God." ff'uly-Aug'ust 1998 Norman ¯ Two 17th-Century Women of V~sdom as men. This became even more explicit in Mary's speech to her companions (1617) describing the virtues required for their way of life, of which a cleric had disparagingly said, "When all is done, they are but women." Mary's speech, because its depth of insight and vision for the future transcend her own institute and pertain to the whole concept of women's discipleship, deserves to be quoted: I would know what you think he meant by this speech . Fervor is a will to do good, that is, a preventing [preve-nient] grace of G~)d and a gift given gratis by God, which we could not merit. It is true [that] fervor doth many times grow cold, but what is the cause? Is it because we are women? No, but because we are imperfect women. There is no such difference between men and women. Therefore, it is not because we are women, but, as I have said before, because we are imperfect women and love not verity. It is not veritas hominum, verity of men nor verity of women, but veritas Domini, and this verity women may have, as well as men.4 Such was the vision that drove Mary Ward (after her two tri-als of the strictest form of women's contemplative life then known, the Poor Clares, both Flemish and English) and her five like-minded companions to cross the English Channel again in 1609. But Mary was a woman not only of vision but of practical common sense and ingenuity as well. Because at-the time both faith and morals were daily being eroded by ignorance and lack of access to the sacraments, the most pressing need seemed to be the provision of instruction for both children and adults. So, at St. Omer in the Catholic Netherlands, where there was a large English refugee population, they began educating, in secular and religious subjects, children of English refugees and the local poor. Their freedom from enclosure and from distinctive religious costume allowed them a helpful flexibility in their min-istry. They would sometimes wear fashionable dress when calling on gentlefolk (such as the archbishop of Canterbury, who had been desirous of meeting these ladies who had done "more harm than six Jesuits"), and sometimes "mean clothing" when visiting the prisoners or the sick (Mary Ward once disguising herself as a maid to gain access to a lady and bring her back to the practice of her faith),s Because adults, too, lacked instruction and often were destitute as well, the sisters extended their ministry to these further needs of those critical times.6 Review for Religious This new concept of religious life, freed of the restrictions of cloister, of government by male superiors, and of older male-inspired Rules, was so revolutionary that it proved both incomprehensible and unacceptable to ecclesiastical authorities steeped in the patriarchal assumptions of centuries. Today, when church and society are still trying to come to terms on the role of women, Mary Ward seems indeed a prophetic woman of wisdom in the Old Testament tradition. Unlike many visionaries, however, this woman had a vigorous practicality about her. What others said, Mary Ward did. Erasmus and Ftnelon said girls should be educated and, if they were above average intelligence, even taught some Latin as the key to all learning (though under male, direction, of course). Mary Ward opened schools in St. Omer, in Rome, and (under the very noses of pursuivants) even in London to provide education for all who desired it and, as far as they could, regardless of social distinctions. Guided but not bound by the Jesuit Ratio studiorum (1599), Mary believed that, since education is for life and a woman's life is not the same as a man's, the content should differ, though a woman's intellectual powers were by no means to be underrated. "God can use only good ones," she said of both teachers and pupils. So, in addition to the liberal arts and, of course, religion, her curriculum included painting, dancing, music (both vocal and instrumental), handwriting, speech training, drama, and modern languages. Language teaching was always a specialty in her schools, and for this no mere smattering would do, but only suf-ficient mastery to read the best authors of each language and to write it well.7 Originally most pupils were English refugees, but, as the schools spread throughout Europe, though English continued to be taught as a second language, the local vernaculars--French, Flemish, German, and Italian--were added. The nuns, who, as Mary Ward's Memorial of 1629 says, included '"Italians, Spanish, French, Germans, Netherlanders, Bohemians, Hungarians, English, and Irish," usually wrote to one another in Latin, Italian, or French (to make things harder for the English government's paid interceptors of mail). Another evidence of the foundress's farsightedness was that the syllabus included, besides the usual subjects, simple mathematics or "accounts." When one recalls that Samuel Pepys, secretary of the royal navy and a university graduate, required special tutoring to master the multiplication Norman ¯ Two 17th-Century Women of VV'tsdom table, this was very avant garde indeed, as was the inclusion of "globes," a combination of geography and astronomy. As her contemporary Richard Mulcaster had urged better training for teachers, so Mary trained hers so well as to attract the favorable notice of civil authorities (according to documents in the Brussels royal archives) and to elicit a request that she set up a training school for others. As prescribed in the Jesuit Ratio stu-diorum, Mary gave high priority to the teaching and supervision of educators. Writing to their novice mistress about two of her young sisters, Catherine and Cecilia, Mary insisted that their Latin studies should have precedence over everything except prayer and, as to fears that such studies would undermine humil-ity, she sensibly added: "This must and will be so common to all that there will be no cause of complaining." As an early memo in the archives expresses it, "The design of gur school being the sanctification of the mistresses who are members of it for the children of their care, they must be. proficient in writing and reading Latin and English."s The consequences of these high standards soon became so widely recognized that, as one Bavarian ecclesiastic expressed it, "The English Ladies. instill into both aristocratic and ordinary children a noble and well-mannered mode of living., so that they are kept with a loving restraint within the limits of good manners and propriety.''9 And, while the harsh treatment of chil-dren in English boarding schools was notorious even down to the 20th century, Mary advised: "In our calling, a cheerful mind, a good understanding, and a great desire after virtue are neces-sary, but of all these a cheerful mind is the most so.''1° Whenever a foundation was made, two schools were opened simultaneously: a boarding school, mainly for English refugee girls, and a free day school, the criteria for both being tractabil-ity, good manners, and the ability to profit from study rather than wealth or social position. In fact, because of the penury of many English refugees, fees were low and often totally remitted; in any case, they seldom kept up with inflation, especially in the countries affected by the Thirty Years' War. For the poorer chil-dren, especially those in the Italian slums, she provided training in skills that would enable them to earn an honest living, so much so that complaints arose that soon there would be none left to run the houses of ill fame. In imitation of what had been done ear-lier by St. Charles Borromeo, her sisters also ran Sunday schools, Review for Religious providing young servants with religious instruction, basic lan-guage skills, and preparation for the sacraments. And in England, where the priests had a price on their heads, both children and adults were made ready to receive the sacraments and opportu-nities were provided for them to do so. For the sake of mission, one member known only to the oth-ers as Sister Dorothea, living like members of modern secular institutes such as the Grail and Focolare, served as maid-com-panion in the home of the wealthy Suffolk gentlewoman Lady Timperley. Her own description of this ministry has a singularly modern ring: "I dare not keep schools publicly, as we do beyond the seas, . . . but I teach and instruct children in the houses of par-ents . Besides teaching of children, I endeavor to instruct the simple and vul-gar sort. I teach them their. Pater, Ave, Creed, Commandments, etc . I tend and serve poor people in their sickness., make salves., endeavor to make peace among those at variance."11 For the apostolate to spread, it soon became apparent that it needed to be put on a permanent basis and also needed official approbation beyond what it had already received from the local church and civil officials. Despite the often vituperative opposi-tion already encountered (especially from certain members of the Society of Jesus and the English secular clergy, who saw in her work a challenge to their authority), Mary set out with some con-fidence to win formal approval for her institute from three suc-cessive popes: Paul v, Gregory xv, and Urban VIII. Despite ill health, poverty, dangers, and cold, she made three trips on foot over the Alps to Rome to plead her cause in person before the committee appointed to examine her Formula instituti (virtually identical with that approved for the Jesuits).~2 But, though she explained at some length her primary purpose ("striving for the defense and propagation of the faith and progress of souls in Christian life and doctrine"), the means (a new kind of women's order without walls or distinctive clothing, engaged in education and other works congruous with the times), and the instruments (women, distinguished by their well-ordered interior disposition and the virtues of freedom, justice, and verity that characterize the "estate of justice"), these were considered dangerously novel ideas Mary gave high priority to the teaching and supervision of educators. ~7~nly-Aug~st 1998 Norman ¯ Two 17tb-Century Women of Wisdom bordering on heresy with which the good but somewhat obtuse legalists of the time felt unable tO cope except by denial.~3 The foundress was imprisoned by order of the Inquisition, and the institute's way of life was declared contrary to the nature of women and a danger to morals.~4 The savagely worded bull of suppression of 1631 destroyed her first institute, and its members' vows were declared null and void. They were offered the alternatives of marriage, joining some other established order, or living as individual laywomen under private vows. When Mary pointed out the state of these young women, homeless, penniless, and in times of persecution unable to return to their own country, the pope offered them a house in Rome and, under his personal protection, allowed them to resume teaching in Rome, Naples, Munich, and even London and York.~s Mary herself, exonerated of all heresy, was allowed to return to her native country, where, in the midst of the Civil War, she spent the last six years of her life. She and her com-panions remained true to the institute and loyal in obedience to the church, and they continued to be highly commended by those for whom they worked.16 After her death at just over sixty, her tombstone in the Anglican churchyard at Osbaldwick bore this touching tribute: "To love the poore, persevere in the same, live, die, and,rise again with them, was all the aim of Mary Ward.''~7 How is the wisdom revealed by God to individuals to be rec-ognized when, as happened in the case of the Old Testament prophets and Mary Ward, it runs counter to legitimate authority by anticipating the future? Diversity, according to R.B.Y. Scott in his comprehensive study of biblical wisdom, has always attended this concept's evolution and its exemplars, the prophets, as well.~8 Inevitably, however, there is conflict when the fulfillment of the vision comes up against more limited goals and values and older ways of achieving them. Such was the case in the 17th century when it became increas-ingly apparent that the well-worn structures and familiar modes of acting were insufficient to meet the sudden and unexpected challenges in the church and in the world around it. Many were unable or unwilling to accept the fact that new kinds of service were needed to meet these new challenges. In particular, the attempt of the Council of Trent to turn the clock backward, in the case of women, by insisting on enclosure, distinctive clothing, and subjection to male authority severely hampered efforts to Review for Religious envision new forms of discipleship that would free women for more effective service of the church. Instead, they were con-demned as "pernicious growths" needing to be eradicated. Their apostolate, however, continued to grow fruitfully and to encour-age imitators. When official recognition finally came at the begin-ning of the 20th century, Mary Ward's institute had spread round the world to six continents. That Mary Ward was truly a "woman of wisdom," discerning, from her intimacy with God in prayer, the practical needs of her time and place and addressing herself to meet them with pru-dence and courage, was belatedly affirmed in Vatican II's docu-ment on the appropriate renewal of religious life, Pe~fectae caritatis, which reads in part: All those who are called by God to practice the evangelical counsels., devote themse!ves in a special way to the Lord. ¯ . . The religious life is intended above all else to lead . . . to union with God. [but] the manner of living, praying, and working should be suitably adapted to the physical and psychological conditions of today's religious and also . . . to the needs of the apostolate, the requirements of a given culture, the social and economic circumstances anywhere, but especially in missionary territories." (§§ 1-3 passim) Marguerite Bourgeoys Marguerite Bourgeoys was born at Troyes in the province of Champagne in 1620, her youth overlapping the latter years of Mary Ward. At an early age she had a similar experience of God's intervention in her life and felt God's gradual imparting of the gift of wisdom. In 1626, to meet the critical need in that war-torn province for religious instruction and care ofthe needy, a saintly priest, Peter Fourier, organized four hundred volunteer laywomen to go out in pairs among the poor. Attached as externs to the cloistered Congregation de Notre Dame de Troyes, they lived lives of prayer as far as their other duties permitted. Under the supervision of Mme. Louise de Chomedey, a sister of Paul de Chomedey, Sieur de Maisonneuve, the founder and governor of Montreal, Marguerite became one of three prefects in charge of the group. When her desire for the life of a consecrated religious seemed doomed to frustration (both the Carmelites and another cloistered congregation having rejected her application), she pru-dently sought an experienced guide, M. Gendret, chaplain of the J~dy-August 1998 Norman ¯ Two 17tb-Century Women of Wisdom Carmelites. He advised her, while awaiting further light on God's will for her, to consecrate her life by private vows of poverty and chastity.~9 In the spirit of the much-needed religious renewal initiated in the early 17th century by st. Vincent de Paul, M. Gendret had for some time envisaged a form of consecrated life for women adapted to the needs of the time, with a mobility that existing rules of enclosure did not allow. In Marguerite Bourgeoys he now recognized the spiritual and intellectual qualities that would be necessary to lead such an undertaking. A further providential intervention in her life came with her meeting Sieur de Maisonneuve in the home of his sister Mme. de Chevilly. He was visiting France to gather a hundred recruits to work in Montreal. Explaining the need for one teacher to supply the need of reli-gious instruction for his "foolish adventure," he invited Marguerite's help. Realizing partly what it might involve for her as the only woman among male recruits, Marguerite, after prayer and after consulting her spiritual director and the vicar general of the diocese (who gave the plan their blessing), perceived it to be God's will that she should go. Arriving at Quebec on 22 September 1653 and at Ville Marie (Montreal) on 16 November, she began at once a thorough assess-ment of the needs of her new mission, the (pitifully inadequate) resources to meet them, and the obstacles to be faced (such as inclement weather and threats from hostile Indians). Some notion of the risks may be gathered from the warning sent by the French-born mystic Marie of the Incarnation, of the cloistered Ursulines, who had been teaching both native and French children in Quebec since 1639. Writing to the sisters back in Troyes, she said: "If you knew what Montreal actually is like, you would be very careful about sending religious there . . . because of the harsh conditions of the country.''2° Marguerite and her compan-ions not only endured the cold, hunger, and dangers, but also shared their scanty living quarters with the poor, even giving up their own mattresses and blankets. In early-17th-century France, the notion of women religious engaging in apostolic work was only beginning to emerge. To meet the pressing needs of the spiritually illiterate general pop-ulation and the inadequately trained clergy, St. Francis de Sales and St. Vincent de Paul had enlisted generous, skilled women to serve in education, health care, and social work. At the price of Review for Reh~ious their obtaining ecclesiastical recognition, they had had to com-promise: the Visitandines accepting the restrictions of enclo-sure (and thereby qualifying as a religious order) and the Daughters of Charity becoming a society of apostolic life, a group of pious laywomen living in common under simple vows renewed annually. It was immediately evident to the prophetic insight of Marguerite Bourgeoys that neither alternative was desirable or suitable to meet the needs and living conditions of Montreal. Apart from teaching language skills and religion free of charge to both boys and girls of the French set-tlers and military people, there were native children to be edu-cated; adults to be instructed, counseled, prepared for the sacra-ments; and health needs cared for--along with the constant threat from hostile Indian raiders and rival English colonists to the south. The sisters supported themselves by doing laundry, sewing, and mending for families after the day's teaching in school.21 Declaring their readiness to undertake just about anything required to meet the social needs of frontier life, Marguerite and her companions (their number augmented by recruitment on subsequent trips back to France) determined with prudence and divine guidance to take steps to ensure the permanence of their work. The first step, dictated by Marguerite's solid bourgeois back-ground, was to obtain from the king a civil charter permanently entitling them to their place of residence, the abandoned stone stable given them by the governor to serve as their school and as the teachers' living quarters.22 Next they applied to and eventu-ally obtained from Bishop Laval ecclesiastical approval "to teach anywhere in his diocese." In both of these ventures, they received ample support from the laity, whose openhearted response to Marguerite Bourgeoys and her companions' concern for their family life and educational needs was generous and continuous. Evidence of this trust is seen in the young bride on the morn-ing after her wedding coming to weep on Marguerite's shoulder upon finding what was expected of her in marriage, and also in the The sisters supported themselves by doing laundry, sewing, and mending for families after the day's teaching in school. ~dy-Augwst 1998 Norman * Two 17th-Century Women of Wisdom adoption of a nine-month-old native baby who had been aban-doned by her mother and whom Marguerite cared for till she died at the age of six.23 In their practical attention to every aspect of the life of the church in Montreal, the tiny Congregation de Notre Dame, as they came to be called, was ready to meet needs as they presented themselves: premarriage counseling, witnessing of marriages, vocational training, adult education, home eco-nomics, visiting the sick, and preparing the dead for burial. Though they were intent upon living as religious so far as spirit, purpose, and prayer were concerned, it became increas-ingly apparent that their manner of observing common life and serving as disciples would have to be adapted to frontier condi-tions and to "the strengths and talents of each" rather than to preconceived ecclesial rules of enclosure. "If it is the will of God that I go to Montreal," Marguerite had said in response to Maisonneuve's invitation, "I shall want for nothing.''24 Marguerite's wisdom continued to be manifested in her response to divine guidance and providential care in each new enterprise. Her trust in God's will was, however, severely tested on more than one occasion as the years went on. Though provi-sionally approved by Bishop Laval in May 1669, their lifestyle received his official written approval only as "a community in the state of secular women, that is, not bound by enclosure."~s Their Rule, inspired by M. Gendret, which they had been liv-ing, had still to receive formal approval by the church, and for this Bishop Laval, because of the enclosure problem, was unwilling to apply. As Marguerite's biographer wryly ?emarks, the bishop had difficulty distinguishing between the will of God and that of Francois de Montmorency Laval.26 When, upon her return from France with six new recruits, Marguerite was greeted with the news that her community had disintegrated, she replied with calm confidence in God: "He who brings about its fall can very well raise it up again whenever he pleases.''27 When further contro-versy arose over the admission of new members (born in Canada, not France, and two of them aborigines), she felt no longer trusted and offered to resign. The result was an overwhelming reaffir-mation by the entire community of her leadership and special charism.2s Another aspect of Marguerite Bourgeoys's wisdom is reflected in her response to Laval's criticisms of her choice of new candi-dates and her recourse to experienced persons other than himself Review for Religious regarding the community's Rule. Though submitting with humil-ity, she prudently continued to consult the Sulpician directors of the Grande S~minaire, who fully endorsed her wise decision--a visionary missionary thrust far ahead of her time--not to impose a strange civilization on native converts. Her two guideposts, to imitate our Lady and live in the presence of God, fitted admirably into the concept of discipleship she bequeathed to her sisters as that of following la vie voyagOre of the Blessed Virgin. From M. Gendret's explanations long ago, she recalled the distinctions between the three states in which women could follow Christ and serve the church in these words: that of St. Mary Magdalen. observed by the Carmelites and other recluses and that of St. Martha by the cloistered religious who serve their neighbor; but that the outgoing life of the Blessed Virgin was not honored as it should be, and ¯. even without veil and wimple she could be a true reli-giousfl9 The term vie voyagOre (the equivalent of the modern English phrase "to be a pilgrim") seemed to imply, as Marguerite used it, a certain flexibility and adaptability in the service of others and going out into the world wherever there was need. If the first mark of the truly wise person is charity that reflects her close union with God, then it is especially in time of trial that it can best be judged. Such testing was Marguerite's. First came the disastrous fire of 6-7 December 1683, after which the community was reduced to literal destitution. But, when Bishop Laval seized the occasion to urge them to merge with the clois-tered Ursulines, Marguerite firmly defended the identity of her "journeying sisters," modeled on our Lady, Christ's first disci-ple. 3° When an impasse over business matters occurred, she sim-ply turned the whole matter over in prayer to her patroness with the words "Blessed Virgin, I can do no more.''3~ Again, when a visionary in her own community denounced her publicly as in "a state of damnation" and proposed founding a new institute with herself as head, Marguerite, although ready to acknowledge the possibility of having lost God's friendship, persisted in abandoning herself to his divine justice and charity. Her resignation and her replacement as chief superior by the first Montreal-born member, Marie Barbier, reflected both her humil-ity and her openness of spirit.32 At the same time, in trusting Canadian-born candidates and leadership instead of continuing to July-August 1998 Norman ¯ Two 17tb-Century Women of Wisdom depend on reinforcements from France, she was wisely investing in the permanence of her community in New France. The final ecclesiastical approval of the Rule was again to be made contingent on accepting enclosure, vowing obedience to the bishop, and requiring dowries. Though remaining obedient to the new bishop, Jean Baptiste de Saint-Vallier, Marguerite firmly and prudendy defended her original vision of the congre-gation's members as "daughters of the parish" and of the Blessed Virgin herself as their only superior.33 For the sake of survival, she had for the moment to submit to the bishop, and on 24 June 1698 the sisters finally accepted the approved Rules and next day solemnly pronounced their vows. But before her death (12 January 1700) she took care to record in her spiritual autobiography her original divinely inspired intuitions, 'with shrewd observations based on her lived experience and her hopes and fears for the continued existence of her congregation. Like the Ursulines and many other women's congregations of the Counter-Reformation peribd, this uncloistered community of Montreal agreed to modifications in their original Rule on condition that its underlying principles and, above all, their "out-going life" were not sacrificed. Their charism was summed up in the words of the foundress herself: When he ascended into heaven, our Lord left on earth a type of congregation of women which included all the states. Mary was its first superior . The Blessed Virgin, who was a teacher, included all the other things in her own per-son in an eminent degree. She was mother and teacher to the newborn church, which she formed and instructed in all kinds of good, by her words and by her example. Instruction and edification were her principal characteris-tics., particularly to teach in a way that was all the more profitable for everyone [and] within the reach of all.34 Models for Today What did these 17th-century women of wisdom have in com-mon, and of what relevance are their lives to ours on the eve of the 21st century? For answers we need to look at the very human and very universal situation underlying their lives. Each might be described (in terms applied to Joan of Arc by Joan Chittister, an eloquent defender of Christian feminism) as "a model of con-science development, a monument to the feminine relationship to Review for Religious God, and a breaker of the stereotypes that block the will of God."35 In every age, authority figures (usually male) have busied themselves with telling people what they should do, usually cloak-ing their goals in moral terms. Suddenly appears someone-- indeed, a woman!--who has a mission, someone who is bold enough to claim that God has revealed plans to her that may seem outrageous, someone who confronts them with a question greater than they are able or willing to handle and who is pre-pared to fight and even die for it if necessary so that truth may prevail and others may benefit. Mary Ward and Marguerite Bourgeoys were such women, role models for all who have heard the voice of God calling them to transcend the limitations of the present and enable freedom, justice, and sincerity (verity) to triumph everywhere and for all time. Notes a Mary Ward's Retreat Notes, 1619, unpublished collection. 2 Cited by Catherine Elizabeth Chambers, Life of Mary Ward, 2 vols. (London, 1882 and 1885), vol. 1, p. 227. 3 Letter to Roger Lee SJ, 1 November 1615, cited by Chambers, vol. 1, pp. 346-347. 4 Cited by Chambers, vol. 1, pp. 407-408. 5 Chambers, vol. 1, p. 407 and 217-224. 6 Letter of Bishop Blaise, cited by Chambers, vol. 1, pp. 319-320. 7 Chambers, vol. 2, p. 531. s Chambers, vol. 2, p. 249. 9Winkler MS, p. 20. ~°Cited by Chambers, vol. 1, p. 468. ~a Chambers vol. 2, p. 27. Chambers vol. Chambers vol. Chambers vol. Chambers vol. Chambers vol. 2, p. 387. 2, pp. 289-290. 2, p. 325. 2, p. 325. 2, p. 331. a7 Chambers vol. 2, p. 504. as R.B.Y. Scott, Relevance of the Prophets, rev. ed. (Toronto: Collier Macmillan, 1969), p. 13. 19 Patricia Simpson, Marguerite Bourgeoys and Montreal, 1640-166~ (Montreal: McGil!-Queen'~ University Press, 1997), p. 46. ~3~nly~Aug~tst 1998 Norman * Two 17tb-Century Women of l~tsdom 20 Cited by Simone Pgissant CND, Marguer~e Bourgeoys, trans. Frances Kirwan (Montreal: Les Editions Bellarmin, 1982), p. 34. 2~ Simpson, p. 160. z2 Simpson, pp. 117-118, 164-165. 23 Simpson, pp. 109, 126. 24 Poissant, pp. 23-24. 2s Poissant, p. 35. 26 Simpson, p. 175. 27 Poissant, p. 36 . 28 Poissant, p. 43. 29 Letter of Marguerite Bourgeoys to Louis Tronson, September 1693, "Ecrits de M~re Bourgeoys," p. 20, quoted by Elizabeth Rapley, The Dgvotes (McGill: Queen's Press, 1990), p. 101. 30 Poissant, p. 51. 3~ Poissant, p. 52. 32Poissant, pp. 53-55. 33 Poissant, p. 57. 34 Poissant, pp. 49-50. 3s Joan Chittister, A Passion for Life (New York: Orbis Books, 1996), pp. 127-129. Review for Religious MARY ROGER MADDEN A Path Traced Out: Providence in Mother Theodore Guerin's Life M~ther Theodore Guerin founded the Sisters of rovidence at Saint Mary-of-the-Woods, Indiana, on 22 October 1840 and left her mark not only: on an extensive reli-gious congregation, but also--through the schools she established and the philosophy of education she fostered--on tens of thou-sands of lay men and women. Born 2 October 1798 in the village of Etables-sur-Mer, in the diocese of Saint-Brieuc, Anne-Th4r~se Gu4rin was the daugh-ter of Laurent Gu~rin, a naval officer in the service of Napoleon, and Isabelle Lefevre Gu~rin. She had two younger brothers, both of whom died in early childhood, and one younger sister, Marie Jeanne. Her mother taught her to read and write and instructed her in the basics of religion. When she was nine years of age, she attended a small school run by a pious laywoman of Etables. Anne- TMr~se learned quickly and was bored by the basic nature of the instruction. She would often slip away to the seashore, hiding herself among the rocks and cliffs. There, contemplating the vast-ness of the sea, she early learned to pray. A distant relative, a young seminarian forced to postpone his education because of the religious upheaval following the Revolution, came to live with the Gu~rin family. He served as Anne-TMr~se's tutor, calling her his "little theologian." Perhaps because of this advanced religious instruction, she was able to receive her first Holy Communion at the early age of Mary Roger Madden SP writes from Christina Hall; Saint Mary-of-the- Woods, Indiana 47876. 3~:uly-August 1998 Madden ¯ A Path Traced Out ten. At that time she confided to her confessor that she wished to devote her life to God. The kindly priest told her to pray and to be a good, obedient child and wait for God to open the way for her. The even tenor of the Gu~rin family life was disrupted when Laurent Gu~rin, on his way home to rejoin his family after being demobilized, was attacked by brigands, robbed, and killed. Isabelle, who had already suffered the loss of her father and one brother at sea and of her two infant sons by fire, was traumatized by this latest tragedy. She went into a complete physical and mental decline, leaving Anne-Th~r~se, then sixteen years of age, as the main support of the family. Anne-Th~r~se cared for her younger sister and nursed her mother back to health while supporting the little family with her sewing. She never abandoned her desire to devote her life to God. In 1823, when the younger sister had reached an age when she could be expected to take Anne-Th~r~se's place, Isabelle Gu~rin gave reluctant permission for her elder daughter to enter the Sisters of Providence of Ruill~-sur-Loir. This congregation, dedicated to the education of youth and the care of the sick. poor in their homes, had been founded in 1806 by Jacques-FranFois Dujari~, founder also of the Brothers of Saint Joseph, known today as the Brothers of the Holy Cross. A small and relatively obscure congregation, the Sisters of Providence were struggling to establish themselves in a country still reeling from the aftershocks of the Revolution. Anne-Th~r~se, who was given the name Sister Saint- Theodore, soon became a valued member of the family of Providence. Her novitiate had to be prolonged because she con-tracted typhoid fever as a postulant. When she appeared to be on the verge of death, the physician, frantic to save her, adminis-tered such severe remedies as to leave her with impaired health. Never again was she able to digest solid food. Because of her illness, her reception of the habit had been postponed until 5 September 1826; three days later she was per-mitted to take her first vows. She was sent at once to administer one of the most challenging of their missions in the city of Rennes. In 1828 the sisters elected her a member of the first general coun-cil to Mother Mary Lecor, the superior general, During the years at Rennes and later at Soulaines, her exper-tise as an administrator and a teacher was recognized by the Academy of Angers (Universit~ de France), which awarded her Review for Religious an honorary medallion in recognition of her excellence as an educator. In the summer of 1839, the sisters were gathered at the moth-erhouse for their annual retreat when they received a distinguished visitor. Celestine de la Hailandi~re, bishop of Vincennes in Indiana, came requesting sisters to teach the children of the pio-neers in his diocese. The superiors asked for volunteers from among the mem-bership. Although many sisters volunteered, Mother Mary found no one among them with the qualities nec-essary for the leader of such an expedition. She favored Sister Saint-Theodore, who, fearing that her chronic poor health would hinder the work of the mission, had not volunteered. On being told that the supe-riors would accept the mission only if she would lead it, she agreed to go to Indiana. After a turbulent journey of three months by sailing vessel, river boat, canal boat, and stagecoach, the sisters arrived on 22 October 1840 in a dense forest of Indiana. Located five miles from the fron-tier river town of Terre Haute, the little settlement had been named Saint Mary-of- the-Woods by Simon Brut4~ first bishop of Vincennes. Oral tradition has it that he remarked at the time to one of his com-panions, "You will see what great things will be done here." Arriving that dark, damp October evening, Sister Saint- Theodore and her five companions proceeded at once to the small log cabin that was both the dwelling place of the missionary priest and the temporary church. A partially completed building was intended by the bishop as a convent, but no school had yet been started. Waiting for them at the farmhouse belonging to the Joseph Thralls family were four young women who had come to join them. ~.~ The Thralls family turned over to the ten women one of the two rooms which constituted their home, along with half the loft. There they spent the first winter learning English, preparing classes for the opening of the school, and instructing the new members in the principles of the religious life. In November, Mother Theodore, as she was now known, with Sister Saint-Theodore, fearing that her chronic poor health would hinder the work of the mission, had not volunteered. Madden ¯ A Path Traced Out the help of the bishop and some of the money obtained from friends in France, was able to purchase the Thralls farmhouse for a Convent. She found the building planned for them by the bishop "too grand" for a convent and decided instead to open there a boarding school and academy to be called Saint Mary's Female Institute. In July 1841 classes began with five students, three of whom were not Catholic. Indiana's. educational system was in its infancy in the 1840s. Good education, especially for girls, was at a premium. Mother Theodore set about filling this need by establishing free schools side by side. with the popular female academies which were open to Catholic and non-Catholic alike. Despite her wretched health, she visited the schools regu-larly, traveling in the uncomfortable conditions of the day, in order to encourage and support the sisters. Their educational endeavors were conducted in the primitive one- or two-room buildings that often served as both school and convent. In order to compensate for the harshness of their living conditions, she brought them every summer to Saint Mary-of-the-Woods for rest, relaxation, study, and spiritual retreat. In the midst of her exhausting labors, Mother Theodore. suf-fered from constant humiliations and misunderstanding from her superiors both in France and in North America. At Ruill~ the superiors, who were never able to visit the mission in Indiana, had no concept of what the sisters suffered from the intemperate cli-mate, the bigoted populace, and the poor living conditions. Mother Theodore's frequent letters, though strictly factual, were dis-counted as "romances." It would be years before the superiors rec-ognized all that she had suffered. She, on the other hand, never faltered in her love and devotion to the French congregation and its superiors. In the United States, Hailandi~re was provoked by her resis-tance to his interference with the internal government of the con-gregation. He had told Mother Mary that he wanted the sisters in order that they might establish in his diocese the French reli-gious spirit. He praised their constitutions when he read them in France, but, when Mother Theodore attempted to put them into practice, he seemed to have forgotten his former approval. He wished to ,be the one to decide on the acceptance of postulants and the profession of novices; to move the sisters from mission to mission; to open and close missions (without consulting the sis- Review for Religious ters); and, in general, to act as the major superior of the congre-gation. Most disturbing to Mother Theodore was his desire to conduct all visitations of the missions, confining Mother Theodore to Saint Mary-of-the-Woods. His efforts to remove her from office by holding elections, even in her absence, failed; for the sisters simply united in unan-imously reelecting Mother Theodore. The climax came when, frustrated by her gentle but firm resistance, he went so far as to expel her from the diocese, threatening with excommunication any sister who harbored her or attempted to follow her.- This unjust treatment she bore with remarkable patience. In 1847, at the very hour when she was being expelled, an announcement from Rome arrived, accepting Hailandi~re's resigna-tion as bishop of Vincennes and appoint-ing Bishop Jean Bazin as his replacement. Bazin exonerated her and restored her to her congregatiom Mother Theodore's greatest legacy was the example of her love of God and neighbor, a dynamic self-giving that never flagged or slackened, from her girlhood on Brittany's shores to her death in the midst of the Indiana forest. Only a year before that death, she would write to Sister Saint-Athanase, one of the French sisters who had been a companion of hers in the novi-tiate: "How fortunate we are to have given the days of our youth to that God of love who gives us so much affection, and even more when we are old, infirm, and crippled than when we were young and robust." All her other virtues flowed from this ,one deeply held con-viction-- that God's love for her was unconditional. Her humility makes sense in light of her understanding of the mystery of the incarnation, by which the Second Person of the Trinity, for love of us, came to share our lowly estate. Her confidence in the provi-dence of God was nourished by that love. For her part, she saw the cross that marked her life for over fifty years as the mystic sign by which she rejoiced to return some part of that infinite love. In her concern for the p~oor and the ignorant, in her devo-tion to all her sisters, we see the authentic expression of love of neighbor. The love of God which welled up in her spilled over All her other virtues flowed from this one deeply held conviction-- that God's love for her was unconditional. 1998 Madden ¯ A Path Traced Out into the lives of everyone she met. She quickly forgave frailties of human nature that caused her suffering and endeavored to avoid inflicting similar sufferings on others. The last nine years of her life proceeded in relative peace and prosperity. By 1854 the congregation had grown to almost one hundred sisters, who were instructing over one thousand chil-dren in parish schools, academies, and orphanages in Jasper, Vincennes, Madison, Terre Haute, Fort Wayne, Columbus, and Evansville. At the motherhouse she built a four-story brick con-vent to replace the farmhouse in which they had lived since 1840. The heritage of devotion to the education of women contin-ues to be cherished by the Sisters of Providence down to the pres-ent day, when Saint Mary-of-the-Woods College, the oldest Catholic liberal arts college for women in the United States, stands on the site of that first small academy. Physically debilitated by her trials and the hardships of a pio-neer life, Mother Theodore died on 14 May 1856. Reports of her holiness of life spread both during her life and after her death. In December 1908 Francis Silas Chatard, bishop of Indianapolis, instituted proceedings for her canonization. On 11 July 1992 Pope John Paul II, in the name of the church, proclaimed the heroic virtue exhibited by the Servant of God, according her the title Venerable. On 7 July 1997 he formally accepted the first-class miracle needed for the process of beatification to go for-ward. The date of her arrival at Saint Mary-of-the-Woods, 22 October, will be celebrated as the feast of Blessed Mother Theodore Guerin, who said of her own life: "This is the path traced out by the providence of God. I follow it." According to Jean-Baptiste Caussade, "The life of each saint is the life of Jesus Christ. It is a new gospel." As we study the gospel God has written in the life of this valiant woman, we are confirmed in our confidence in the mysterious ways of God, which continue to instruct and enlighten us. Bibliography Belsen, Sister Anita Cotter, SP. Soitvenir of the Fiftieth Anniversary or Golden Jubilee of Saint Mary's Academic Institute. New York: Benziger Brothers, 1891. Brown, Sister Mary Borromeo, SP. History of the Sisters of Providence, Vol. I. New York: Benziger Brothers, 1949. Burton, Katherine. Faith Is the Substance. New York: Herder, 1959. Review for Religious Gonner, Sister Laurence, SP. "A History of the First Fifty Years of the Sisters of Providence in America." Master's thesis, Loyola University, Chicago, 1933. Guerin, Mother Theodore. Journals and Letters of Mother Theodore Gudrin. ed. S. Mary Theodosi

Issue 19.4 of the Review for Religious, 1960. ; Review fOl" Religious The LordIs My Shepherd The Brothers',Vootion: Natural Ideal by Robert D. Cihlar, S.J. Problen~s of the Late Vocation , byDavid "B. IVadhams~ S.M.~ Is Religious DisObedience Al~ays, a Sin? by Joseph J. Farraher, S.J. The Problem of Transition for the Junior sister, by Sister Mary Magdalen, O.P. , Survey of Roman Documents Views, News, PreViews Questions and ,Answers Book Reviews 193 200 207 215 225 232 237 ,240 " 248 The Lord Is My Shepherd The Lord is my shepherd: I want for nothing; he makes me to lie in green pastures, He leads me to waters where I may rest; he restores my soul. He guides me along the right paths for his name's sake. Although I walk in a darksome valley, I shall fear no evil, for thou art with me. Thy crook and thy staff: these comf.o~:t me. Thou preparest a table for me before the eyes of my foes; Thou. anointest my head with oil; my cup brims over. Goodness and kindness will follow me all the days of my life, And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord days without end. BY A SPECIAL INSPIRATION the Psalmist foresaw that the Redeemer would come in the flesh and that He would found a Church and that He would be a Shepherd over it. However, this is not the only instance in the Sacred Scriptures where God alludes in very distinct language to the "Shepherd" mentioned by the words of the Psalmist in this beautiful psalm; but the "Shepherd" whom God has set over His only true Church is also very clearly indicated in the words of Ezekiel where it is stated: "And I will set up one shepherd over them; and he shall feed them, and he shall be their shepherd" (Ez 34:23). Now what is significant in these words is that the same term is here used for "shepherd" and "to feed," so that the sense is that this Shepherd which God has set over His Church is both our Guide and our Food as well. The Lord is not only our Shepherd; but He is also the means by which we are kept in existence, both body and soul. The Lord is our Shepherd who feeds us with Himself; for by means of the Church which He established He continues to say, "Take and eat! This is My Body" (Mt 26:27). By means of His Church He is able to carry out the words of this psalm and fulfill their implication by feed-ing us with Himself; for that is what the words "the Lord is my Shepherd" mean or imply in the original Hebrew, since in The author of this article is an American layman who is living a contemplative life and who wish~s to rhmain anonymous. 193 THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD Review for Religious that language no distinction is made between tending, govern-ing, and guiding a flock and feeding it. What a wonderful thing it is to have such a Shepherd who is able to feed His sheep, namely, all the faithful, with His own Precious Body and Blood ! But God is not only our Shepherd ; He is also our companion and our friend, since this word shepherd is often used to des-ignate the idea of companionship and friendship. "How beautiful art thou, my love, how beautiful art thou" (Cant 4:1). It is significant that in addressing the souls of all who love Him, God should here make use of a word which is a derivative of the term used by the Psalmist when he refers to Him as his "Shepherd." And so by an extended use of the term shepherd we may refer to our Lord as someone whom we love and in whom we find our whole delight. The Lord is our Shepherd in the sense that it is in Him alone that we can find our whole delight. He alone is the sole object of our love: The Lord is my Shepherd because the guidance He exerts over me is the guid-ance of love and delight. He is Love in nature and essence. The Lord is my Shepherd in the sense that I am being ruled and governed by means of that everlasting love and delight which He is. The Shepherd here spoken of by'the Psalmist is none other than the King of love, and so the dominion He exercises over us is the dominion of love and love alone." God guides and governs us by mean of His love. "The Lo~:d is my Shepherd. I want for nothing." What can be lacking to him who is governed and guided by Love Itself? The Lord is my Shepherd in the sense that I have God Himself for my close com-panion and friend. From the day of my birth 'til the day of my death, this guide in the form of Love Incarnate will be my close companion and friend, so that no circumstance can arise in which His help and friendship will not be there to see me through everything I shall ever have to undergo. Having such a Shepherd we can all say, "I want nothing," that is to say, no circumstance will ever arise in our lives in which we shall suffer any sort of insufficiency; for we will always have what we need from this Divine Lover of our soul, this God who both created and re-deemed us. "I know mine," He tells us in the Gospel of St. John (10:15). He knows us better than we know ourselves, and no real want we can ever have will be overlooked by Him who has loved us from all eternity. There are times when we may think we need what this "Good Shepherd" sees we do not need, and which would not be 194 July, 1960 THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD of any value for our eternal salvation. One thing we can be sure of, and that is with such a lover as God is, anything we really need to advance in our effort to get to know and love Him better we will most certainly have; and so we shall never be 'devoid of the good necessary for our progress along our journey to our heavenly home. The whole Bible has often been compared to a medicine chest ¯ in which may be found remedies suitable to every need the soul can have on its journey through time. And so, just as we think it nothing at all to rush over to the drug store to get something to soothe our bodily aches, so in like manner we should never be slow to turn to the pages of Holy Writ whenever we feel we need some words of help and consolation in the troubles and trials of this life. Our Lord is often referred to as a physician in the Scriptures. By this it is meant that we should use the words He speaks to us in them as a sort of medicine to apply to the ills of our souls. "Honor the Physician," we read in the Book of Ecclesiasticus (38:1). "Honor the Physician for the need thou hast of Him. For all healing is from God . The most high hath created medicines . . . and the wise man will not abhor them." Though these words refer to the medicines the doctor prescribes for the ills of our bodies, we know that in addition to the literal meaning of these words, there is also a spiritual and a mystical one. They also refer to that Heavenly Physician which our Lord is and the many remedies He has devised for the many ills of our souls. "The most high hath created medicines" in the form of the Church with her entire sacramental system; and so, "a wise man will not abhor them." At present, though, we intend to limit our consideration to the medicines to be found in the Sacred Scriptures and especially as these may be had in the words of the twenty-second psalm, and in many others as well; for in one of them we actually see the Psalmist call upon God as we do on an earthly doctor and say to Him, "Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed." These two words heal and healed are so rich in Hebrew that we can hardly realize the comfort they bring when read in the original, since besides the connotation of healing they are also a metaphor for comfort and consolation. When in the words of the Psalmist we ask God to "heal" us, we include the petition that we should be restored to that pristine felicity we all posses-sed before we fell into sin. We ask God that we should one day win back that same unmarred happiness Adam once possessed in Paradise and which the words of the twenty-second psalm 195 THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD Review for Religious reawaken in our soul as often as the beauty of them comes to our mind: "The Lord is .my Shepherd; I shall not.want." The complete fulfillment of all that these words imply will take place after we have been completely healed of the effects of original sin and restored to the state of innocence Adam had before the Fall. "We shall not Want," because after this life is over all our desires shall be fulfilled and there will be nothing we have to have which God will not give us in the complete and perfect giving of Himself to us in the life to come. "We shall not want" because after we die God shall be all in all to us so that, having Him with all the fullness and completion in which we will then have Him, we shall .lack nothing to be eternally happy. God will then "spread a table" before us on which He will Himself be the food of our glorified state. For if even during this life "the Lord is our Shepherd," in the sense that it is in the possession of Him alone that we can find our true delight, what will it not be to have that same delight in Him when we shall become completely assimilated to all that He is in the life to come? If even on this earth we derive our whole satisfaction in the thought that we have God who is Love Itself for our companion and friend, what shall it not be for us to enjoy that companionship and friendship of His when we are where alone we can truly and fully partici-pate in it? And if even while we are on this earth we find i~ such a delight to be ruled and governed by Him who is Love Itself, what will it be when we shall have that guidance and governance in Heaven itself? "The Lord is my Shepherd." What a privilege it is to have God Himself to guide and conduct us through every vicissitude and event of this life ; for with such a guide, "even though I walk in the dark valley I fear no evil, for He guides me in the right paths." The Psalmist says that as long as he shall live he has nothing to fear, because it is the God of righteousness who con-ducts along the paths of His own righteousness, and that He does so for His name's sake, namely, for the sake of Jesus, since we could never have that original righteousness we once pos-sessed in Adam unless Christ offered Himself for us as a victim for our sins. And so it is for the sake of the sufferings of Christ that we are now able to tread those paths of righteousness that will lead us to the realms of unending bliss in Heaven. "And a path and a way shall be there," Isaiah tells us (35:8) "and it shall be called the holy way." Our Lord said He was that "holy way" when He said, "I am the Way." He is the right path of 196 J~tly, 1960 THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD which this Psalmist speaks and along which he is being guided by God. No wonder he can say that, "even though I walk in the dark valley, I fear no evil, for you are at my side." For what shall we be afraid of when.we realize that He who both made and re-deemed us is constantly on the lookout for our every need, and He will permit nothing to happen to us which will not conduce to the greater good of our soul both in time and in eternity? "In .verdant pastures He gives me repose; beside restful waters He leads me." In these words the Psalmist wishes to point out God's tender compassion for the human race and the many comforts and consolations with which we are provided from the very first days of our existence until our last breath. "Show me," the soul says to her Belgved, "Show-me, O Thou whom my soul loveth, where Thou feedest, wh~re Thou liest in the midday" (Cant 1:6). Thh "repose" here spoken of is that of reclining on the bosom of Christ, mentioned in the Gospel of St. John (13:25), for the soul's rest in Christ is here compared to the pleasant and refreshing experience we have when we lie down on the tender grass on a hot summer day. Another signifi-cation for "repose" is the idea of being interchanged. "Repose" refers to that immingling of the soul with that of her beloved Lord by means of some extraordinary grace which makes of the two one; so that the "verdant pastures" are those exquisite de-lights the soul finds as she feels herself being drawn into the inmost essence of Him whom she loves--namely, the beauty and comeliness of Christ. The soul speaks of the pleasure she has in Christ as a sort of lying down on the young, fresh, and tender grass, in order to indicate the pleasing sensation which the rest she finds in Him procures for her. "Beside restful waters He leads me." These restful waters are the vast number of bless-ings we receive from God and which afford us so much consola-tion in the sorrows we have to bear. "He refreshes my soul." God "refreshes" the soul when by means of His grace it is re-stored to that pristine beauty it had before it fell into si.n, for the word "refresh" means to convert, to bring back, to restore, and to renew. Whenever we are being renewed in Christ, we are being, refreshed in soul and reconverted to God. The fullness of conversion will take place by means of that renewal, that res-toration, that complete conversion and refreshing of the heaven and earth spoken of in the Apocalypse of St. John (21:1), where-in he tells us that he saw a "new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away." Through 197 THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD Re4)iew for Religious sin, Isaiah tells us (24:5), "the earth is infected by the in- .habi.tants thereof." And so the time will come when it will pass away and be recreated in Christ, so that at that time our souls will. be completely refreshed because of their being completely converted to God. At present our conversion is only partial; and so the refreshment of which this psalm speaks to us is not as perfect as we would desire it to be, since we still need many things which after we die we will no longer have to have in order to be perfectly and completely happy. It is only after this life is over that our soul will be completely refreshed with that refreshment and renewal in Christ of which this psalm speaks. "Even though I walk in the dark valley, I fear no evil." What is this "dark valley"? Literally, it is the valley of the shadow of death, which in Hebrew is used poetically for very thick darkness. When we read the Book of Job, we find this word shadow-of-death being used on five different occasions to denote what no other expressions convey. In order to express the contempt he had for the present life, Job says: "Let the day perish wherein I was born. Let the darkness and the shadow of death cover it" (3:3-4). On another occasion he character-izes our entire existence in this world as "a land of misery and darkness where the shadow of death dwelleth" (10:22). In the third verse of the twenty-eighth chapter, he again makes use of the same word in order to indicate that our whole life is lived in death's shadow and that we will never cease to be freed from its image until we are out of this world. And the Psalmist speaks of walking in the valley of the shadow of death, because as long as we live we are never free from the fear of our having to undergo the penalties we have to pay for the sin of our first parents. We walk in the valley of the shadow of death, because as long as we live we can never be free from the necessity of dying; and the thought of our death haunts us from the cradle to the grave. We are said to be walking in the valley of the shadow of death because we always live with its image before our eyes, since there is nothing we can see that will not some day have an end. As long as we live we walk, as it were, in the shadow of death, in that the calamities and miseries of life which will last as long as we will, are a sort of image of death, since they prepare us for its approach when the time will come for us to leave this vale of tears. And yet the Psalmist says- and we should all say with him: "Even though I walk in the dark valley -- the valley of the shadow of death -- I fear no evil ; for 198 July, 1960 THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD You are at my side." The Psalmist tells us that we have nothing to fear from death, because Christ has removed its sting. "He suffered death," St. Paul tells, us, "that He might by God's gracious bounty experience the throes of death for the sake of every human being . . . that through death He might destroy him who had control over death; that is, the devil, and deliver those whom throughout their lives the fear of death held in bondage" (Heb 2:9-15). "I will deliver them out of the hand of death," our Lord tells us through the words of Osee. "0 death, I will be thy death; 0 hell, I will be thy bite." The Psalmist knew this; and that is why he says, "Even though I walk in the dark valley, I fear no evil." He knew that Christ would one day die and that by means of His own sacred death we would be freed from the bondage of death, so that even though we die, yet we shall live forever that life He merited for us by all He underwent for our sake. "I fear no evil," we say to God, "for you are at my side." We are not afraid of anything that can happen to us in this life, in-cluding death itself, because we are assured by the words of this psalm that in everything we have to go through, God will assist us by His divine aid, and we will always find ourselves upheld by Him in a manner too marvelous to comprehend. "When thou shalt pass through the waters," that is, the trials and afflic-tions of this life, including the agony of dying, "I will be with thee," our Lord says to us in words we can no more question than we can question our own existence. "When thou _.shalt walk in the fire, thou shalt not be burnt: and the flames shall not burn thee" (Is 43:2). With this divine aid of God Himself before his miffd's eye, no wonder the Psalmist was able to say: "Even though I walk in the dark valley, I fear no evil." For what is there anyone can fear when he is given the strength to trust God in those most agonizing moments of his life when his soul will be wrenched from the flesh of which it formed such a close com-panionship all the time it was in the body? What can unduly alarm him who is not unduly frightened by what so many dread ? Christ has destroyed death's terrors, and so it is now nothing more than a sleep from which we will one day awake as gently as we rise up every morning from our previous night's rest. And so, if we are afraid to die, we should also be afraid to go to sleep every night as well. If we fear God with the filial and re-verential fear He wants to be feared with, we will not have to fear anything else--death included. 199 The Brothers' Vocation as a Natural Ideal Robert D. Cihlar, S.J. yOUTH is idealistic. Whatever appeals to it as the greater good, that it will seek. It will seek it with a determination seldom found in later life. The child's changing ideas of what it wants to be when it "grows up" is a simple confirmation of this fact. At one time it aspires to be a fireman, at another a doctor, and so on. The desire changes with the appreciation of the good to be attained- one's own personal good. The child is led, without knowing the meaning of the word, by an ideal. The ideal not o.nly fires the imagination but it must also be somethin$ within reach of the abilities a man knows are his. A child does not fully realize its limitations. As a consequence it aspires to things far above its present capabilities. For the adult and the young man,. however, the ideal must be something which is possible--and possible through one's own efforts, tal-ents, and opportunities. An ideal must be capable of satisfying a man's sense of personal worth. It must also be achievable by this man. He must be able to see himself as realizing this ideal. People he knows, others he has read about have reached this goal; why not he? Often, not fully appreciating his own limitations, he will, like the child, aspire to things which are not for him. As realization comes, so the ideal changes or deepens. For the time being, how-ever, the mere possession of an ideal is enough to cause him to strive for it. It is not difficult to see how the makings of an ideal ar~ to be found in the married state. It takes a little more discernment to find them in the other vocations; and perhaps this is the reason, naturally speaking, why most people find their vocation in marriage. To be looked up to, even in the small circle of the family, to be the head of that family, to be needed, to be loved and to love, all these satisfy a man's sense of personal worth. The fact that others have failed in this state does not deter him Brother Robert D. Cihlar is stationed at West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana. 200 THE BROTHERS' VOCATION nor make it less available. Rather he is all the more convinced, because he possesses an ideal, that his case will be different. Now let us take up a comparison in religious life also based upon the supposition of the ideal as given above. The priesthood at one time or another seems to appeal to most Catholic boys. They are attracted by the reverence shown the priesthood, and this in turn gives them an appreciation of its dignity. They see themselves invested with this dignity, receiving the reverence now accorded to another. They see themselves at the altar, in the confessional, at the bedside of the sick and dyfng. Their sense of personal worth is satisfied, and they know that the goal is achievable because others have made it. Their efforts could bring them there. We have present then in the priesthood two of the elements which go to make up an ideal. This in turn:,Ldepending on the intensity of the desire, becomes a motivating force to (1) prayer, leading to a more obvious cooperation with grace; (2) reading, leading to a greater knowledge of the true meaning of the priest-hood; and (3) a greater application to study, since scholastic ability is necessary. One thing .leads gradually to another. A vocation does not appear all at once but comes, like the dawn; gradually. No one of these is sufficient in itself. Most x~ocations, however, can be traced back to the development of the ideal. Vocations to the pries.thood are more plentiful beca.use they follow the pattern and contain the essentials of an ideal. It .is not so, however, in the case of the lay brother. Public opinion, and consequently the general opinion of youth, is against such a vocation. It is looked down upon simply (and mainly) because it lacks those two motivationally essential parts of an ideal. A young man cannot imagine himself in the position of one who is looked down upon, who possesses in the eyes of the ldity, and often the clergy, no natural worth or dignity. Why is this? Why must there be a lack of this natural value in this way of life? Why must the motivation for accepting such a vocation be only and solely supernatural?. Obviously this is delicate ~round on which it behooves one to tread ever so lightly, if it is to be trod at all. But it is not my intention in any way to minimize the supernatural motive. A vocation without such is no vocation at all. Nor do I wish to say that it is of lesser importance, for even that which I choose to call natural motivation is in reality an action of grace building on nature. It is sometimes true that the natural motivation is 201 ROBERT D. CIHLAR Review for Religious the more obvious of the two, but in the course of, let us say, the preparation for the priesthood, grace builds on that natural motive to such an extent that the supernatural motive becomes the first consideration. My contention, therefore, is that both natural and supernatural motivation, though not of equal im-portance, are of equal necessity, simply because we are human beings. With this explanation, let us try for a subjective viewpoint of what a young man sees when he looks at the life of the lay brother. Perhaps from such a viewpoint we shall catch some hint of the defects in the presentation of this vocation and the possible errors in our thinking concerning it. Undoubtedly the greatest deterent to a young man is the prevalent attitude among the laity, and some clergy, that the brothers' life is a demeaning of self. They feel that the brother is an admitted failure--or becomes such whe~ he becomes a brother. It is rather hard to dislodge the idea that the lay brother is one who "could not" become a priest because of inferior mental ability or some other defect. Popular Catholic literature and various hagiographers of the past have contributed to this idea. The humility of some saints has been demonstrated by their wishing to be with the brothers or work with them (mean-ing to demean themselves). Among present-day Catholic books the Mass of Brother Michael, though a romantic and enter-taining story, is an example of extremely poor propaganda material. Yet it is from such weakly representative literature that attitudes are formed, and once having formed become tra-ditional. In short, the persistent idea is that a man who becomes a lay brother is exceptional, in either his holiness or his ignor- . ance. It is not a vocation "possible" to the average man because it offends his sense of personal worth. It is within reach of his abilities, but it is also often beneath them. It therefore does not fulfill the conditions of the ideal, in the natural order, as ex-pressed above. This idea poses a very thorny problem, but a problem which must be solved if the numbers of the brothers are to increase. A change is evidently necessary in our thinking--and actions-for the mass of tradition is against the brother. The Church, from earliest times, has made use of the principle of adaptation; and adaptation to the times and their needs is the thing to be considered. 202 July, 1960 THE BROTHERS' VOCATION Tradition dating from the Middle Ages has assigned the brothers' vocation to the uneducated and lower classes who, wishing to serve God more perfectly, seek this perfdction in the religious life. Now, going farther back to the natal days of monasticism, we find that this was not true then. The early "Fathers" were not Fathers at all, but in their manner of living the equivalent of the latter-day brother. They engaged in manual labor, meditation, penance, and so forth, but were seldom if ever ordained priests. Necessity, among which was an ever-widening ministry in the monastic groups, brought about the inclusion of priests in their ranks. As the accent on the ministry grew, 'grad-ually the bulk of membership became priestly. Men of education, since educated men were the exceptioh, were directed to the priesthood. Those without education could not hope to become priests ; but, still wishing to become rel!~ious, they were directed to the life of the lay brother. This insistence upon educated men for the priesthood was brought about as part of the much needed reform of the clergy at the time of the Reformation. It also, as a side result, brought about a complete reversal of the original scheme of monasticism; or at least it was the culmination of a reversal that had been taking place for some centuries. However, considering modern' ~i~nes we find the educational picture itself reversed (at least in most ~vestern countries) and the illiterate man becomes the exception. In the Unite'd States, for example, the major portion of the population has completed at least a high school education; and the years since the Second World War find more and more high school graduates going on to college. Superimpose this picture upon that of the time of the Reformation, and a natural explanation will appear for the decrease in brothers' vocations. However, it is only a natural explanation. This does not necessarily mean that God is calling fewer young men to His service as brothers. It does mean that these men, better educated and better qualified, no longer con-sider this vocation as an ideal or even an alternative, which it much more readily was considered a few centuries ago. The brothers' vocation offers them too little in the way of a sense of personal worth. Tell me that the reason for this is a lack of supernatural insight and I will readily admit that this is true. In the order of grace the brothers' vocation has both great dignity and value. But the young man of today, unfortunately, has a much more sophisticated attitude toward life and greater cultural advan- 203 ROBERT D. CIHLAR Review for Religious rages without the balance of living in an age of faith which would have fostered this insight. This is a fact, and we have to adapt ourselves and our methods to it. It need not be without its own peculiar blessing. We are, after all, instruments which God uses. We commit a heresy of sorts if we expect His grace alone to do the job of foster-ing vocations. We must be prepared to offer candidates opportuni-ties in their work for God which are suited to their greater educa-tion and better-develo.ped abilities. Certainly in the congregations of teaching brothers provision is made for this in the various ad-ministrative and educational aspects of school life. The boys see this and respect it. The primary concern here, however, is with those mixed orders or congregations composed of priests and lay brothers. Here the brothers' duties as a rule are menial as well as manual. If, for example, a brother is qualified by his talents and/or education to work in posts of considerable trust, dignitY, and even title, why should they not be given to them. Such posts as treasurer, registrar, superintendent of buildings and gro.unds, promotion, public relations, library, and so forth, occur as possibilities. I am sure there are many others. Given these posts, they should also be delegated enough authority to act freely in them. I might even say that should a brother be discovered to have talents in these lines .and.not be qualified by education, such education should be provided. All things being equal, there is really nothing that a priest does which cannot be done by a brother except in ,-the direct area of the ministry. I certainly do not wish to advocate the idea that the brotherhood is equal to the priesthood; but I do hold that in his capabilities he is often equal to and sometimes better than the priest. When this is so, prescinding from personalities and persons, should he not be allowed to fully employ these capabilities for God and for the benefit of those who would see him and get to know him? If we want to get brothers who are well-qualified in their lines, do we not also have the duty to God to make the best use of the men He sends us, even to the extent of. demonstrating their qualities to others as a means of influencing them? The introduction of the idea of example as influence pre-sents another aspect in the matter of vocations. Seeing is believing. With brothers openly shown in positions of responsi-bility, an acknowledgment of their abilities is forced upon the beholder. Association will gradually accord a greater respect, provided of course the man conducts himself as one worthy of 204 July, 1960 THE BROTHERS' VOCATION respect. Respect accorded in and out of the order or congrega-tion ought gradually to influence or raise the calling, from the natural viewp5int, to conform with the principles of the ideal. In effect, what I would maintain is that there is a need for a greater "going in their door to bring them out ours." But first, of course, there must also be a change in attitude from within the order or congregation itself, or more precisely, among the members of the order or congregation. It is axiomatic that young men have a sixth sense in de-tecting the defects of their teachers or superiors. It is at times disconcerting to have them expose our weakest points. Though we might all profess a great reverence and esteem for the brothers, too few of us really feel it. Too often, in a rare and honest moment, we find the prevailing attitude toward the brothers in ourselves. We have only a notional knowledge as opposed to a real conviction. This is readily detected and carried over to the students and is reproduced in them. A patronizing, condescending attitude, even one of pity, obliterates the rosy picture we would like to paint; and the student sees right through it. He sees, often more clearly than we, the idea of inequality, of superior and inferior, master and servant. And we should not be surprised that he does not find this attractive. Why is this? Is it possibly because the social attitude has evolved in contradistinction to our own at home? That is, do we in practice have a social attitude toward the brothers which does not correspond to what we hold for society in general? Is this contradiction at home possibly one o~ the reasons that we, who are exteriorly champions of this new social attitude, are not so readily accepted as its champions? Undoubtedly there must be a hierarchy of superiors and subjects for the preserva-tion of good order. This is a pure sociological fact. However, it is not necessary that there be superior and inferior on the social level in religious orders or congregations, which finds its equivalent in the caste system. We maintain the "fiction" of all being equally members of the order or congregation; but this is true only as regards spiritual matters. Actually it works out to the maxim that some are more equal than others as far as temporalities are concerned. If, for instance, the priests are allowed something, the equivalent to the brothers must be less good, and so on right down the line. This spells out to the laity what they assume is our real attitude. 205 ROBERT D. CIHLAR The purpose of pointing up these defects is most certainly not an attempt to antagonize. It is merely to point out things in our actions which negate our words, thereby withdrawing from this vocation some of the sense of personal worth. A prospect of such things, contained in the acceptance of a broth-er's vocation, cannot help but prove repugnant to the young men we would like to gain, for they both sense and see them. Con-sidering the society and cultural background in which they live, it is the only natural conclusion they can come to. We stand convicted by the principles we advocate and the profession we make. We ourselves are not without guilt in this lack of an "ideal" in the life of the brother. We seem to expect almost over-whelming actions of grace in the face of obstacles we have helped to erect, and it is unjust to do so. In becoming a brother, a young man today must surrender much more than did his predecessor of a few centuries ago. We have no ~-ight to expect miracles of grace. Very few Pauls have been thrown from their horses. There are no immediate conclusions this writer can come to or any pat solutions he can offer as regards these problems. Such, as a matter of fact, is not his aim. His aim is rather to raise a doubt in the minds of those who read this, to provoke discussion, to call attention to the possibility of error in our present thinking. As I have mentioned before, there is no intention of min-imizing the necessity of supernatural motivation, of the need of prayer and grace in the fostering of vocations. But I am deeply convinced that we have been seriously mistaken in not providing a so-called natural motivation to accompany it. When, together with the action of grace, we have provided the mak-ings of an ideal, then men will not be lacking who will wish to follow it. Problems of the Late Vocation David B. Wadhams, IF A MAN around thirty decides to begin studying for the priesthood, he is beginning a bold undertaking which entails the hazards, though not the romance, of real adventure. The difficulties he will face will not be those encountered by the man of action, but problems he will have in abundance. These problems are perhaps no more serious than those of his younger confreres in the seminary; but they have a complexity and an urgency which make them special, requiring special considera-tion. These problems must be faced if the man is to persevere; they must be solved if he is to be a happy and efficient priest. Religious congregations now seem more willing then ever before to accept older candidates who are qualified, and the religious life increases the problems the older man must face. How does an older man adjust to community life, the rule, the vows? How does he meet the demands of fraternal charity, surrounded as he is by men younger by ten or fifteen years and presumably more resilient psychically? Will his years in the seminary be a loss if he does not persevere? Is he not just burying himself there, during that crucial period when other men are carving out careers? What if he should fail? The problems are not limited to the older man himself; religious superiors must also face special problems in the case of older religious seminarians. Should they be given any sort of ~pecial consideration or exemption from ordinary seminary and religious discipline? Should they be given greater responsibili-ties because of the experience they bring with them to the seminary? Like superiors, spiritual directors also find that the presence of older seminarians is not without its perplexities. Should they be given more or less direction than the younger men? How should the direction of the older seminarian differ from that of the younger seminarian? Why does it seem so dif-ficult at times to make contact with the older seminarians? Mr. David B. Wadhams is presently studying theology at Marist College, 3875 Harewood Road, N. E., Washington 17, D. C. 207 DAVID B. WADHAMS Review ]or Religious The range and number of such difficulties could be extended indefinitely, but it will be sufficient here to limit consideration of the matter to five points where special difficulties would seem to be present for the older seminarian: (1) the older seminar-ian's special need for patience and humility; (2) his impatience with "unbusinesslike" administrative procedure; (3) his im-patience with superiors and directors; (4) his chafing at being classed with younger men; and (5) his nostalgia, more or less prolonged, for the lay state. The Need for Patience and Humility It seems very likely that special dispositions of Divine Providence are to be seen when a man of around the age of thirty becomes a seminarian. However deep the consolation may be for the older man in this thought (and it is a considera-tion that he must keep uppermost in his mind), yet it must also be realized that this very ordering of things by Divine Providence also entails a special exercise of patience and of humility--the patience and the humility of the old man on the bench with younger students. If this lesson of patience in the practice of humility is not learned, he will not be able to persevere. Of course, all seminarians must learn these virtues; and all of them haveindeed ample opportunity to practice them. But a younger man who knows that his priestly life will begin at, say, twenty-seven has the impatience of youthful impetuosity to tame. On the other hand, the older seminarian has the gnaw-ing discomfort of knowing that he must begin a life at forty. Nor is it much consolation to him when a bright-eyed funda-mentalist slaps him on the shoulder and says, "That's all right, Dad, life begins at forty!" This truism soon fails to elicit any but the feeblest enthusiasm in the older man. This general situation forms a sort of background against which the entire life of the older seminarian must be enacted; life, he knows, is short, and his own, despite his age, has not yet really begun. However manfully he may struggle to be patient and to overcome the sense of frustration and unrest that flows from such a situation, his general background of impatience cannot help but be increased by more specific difficulties which he encounters. 208 July, 1960 LATE VOCATION Impatience with the "Unbusinesslike" For the sake of concreteness, assume that a man comes to a religiousinstitute after ten years as a minor executive in the sales department of some large corporation. After an initial period in the religious life of great good will and satisfaction, he may begin to find himself becoming impatient with what he considers to be the "unbusinesslike" and "unrealistic" opera-tional methods of the seminary. He is told that he should bring suggestions and complaints to his superiors during regular interviews known as adminis-trative counseling. But he finds that his suggestions for improve-ment are met with aloofness and subsequently may be ignored. He may find the cordiality of his superiors somewhat strained and entirely different from the warm spontaneity of office good humor: The happy camaraderie of the old days in business seems to radiate friendliness and mutual good-will in contrast to the remote politeness of this administrative consulation. He finds, in short, that businesslike office methods may not always be found in religious congregationg; and that established cus-toms, even undesirable ones, have a tendency to cling. He may .be shocked that buildings and equipment have been allowed to ~leteriorate because of improper delegation of responsibility in maintaining them, or because of what~ he considers a misdirected cult of poverty. After years spent in surroundings presentable, if not luxurious, he may find cracked and peeling paint in sleeping rooms and officeg, together with ancient furniture, serviceable perhaps, but piteously unappealing to the eye. Administrative-duties may be relegated to a single over-worked lay brother who has to manage a coinplicated acc0unting system with machines years beyond their prime. "Duplicating equipment may be gently awry, p~'oducing legible but~scr.atchy copy. Cash accountihg may be quite nonchalarit. Public relations techniques may be hopelessly mismanaged or totally nonexistent. The man may tend to exaggerate these deficiencies as time goes on, and his itch to rearrange things increases. Why-don't they call someone in for an audit? Why must certain precious ma-chines be available for the indiscriminate and uncontrolled use of fifty people? Why does fresh paint seem incompatible with poverty- surely the walls were freshly painted once? If on the other hand he find~ himself in a congregation whose progressive foresight has placed men of vision in positions '209 DAVID B. WADHAMS Review for Religious of authority, the subject will surely find some evidences of inefficiency. The ease with which a man finds matter for criti-cism is a match for the most progressive system. Perhaps the very businesslike character of the place will strike him as out of place. A man's past will stand him in good stead when he becomes a religious; but the stresses and strains which this life imposes will affect him in those areas where he is mos~ vul-nerable- the sphere of his accumulated treasury of general know-how. Superiors and Spiritual Directors Then, too, the vow of obedience has a peculiar democratizing effect. Along with his deep respect for the office of superior, the subject realizes that both are bound by the same ties. The superior, no less than he, is directly subject to the authority of those above him; and this authority is just as stringent in its demands of obedience. Back in the office, the former senior accountant or advertising man saw his superior in a greatly privileged position within the circle of major executives. He was conscious of a degree of separation measured in terms of seniority and yearly income. Now he finds himself in the religious life where his superior, though he exerts the same authority as his former employer, may be a near contemporary, sleeping just down the hall, and using the same bath. The older seminarian realizes, to be sure, that the motive of his religious obedience is a supernatural one; but, being flesh and blood, in certain cases he cannot help but experience a sense of somewhat dis-mayed surprise at a superior-subject relationship that on the natural level may be so different from his previous relations with authority in the business and commercial world. Another problem for the older seminarian may be spiritual direction. He may find that he has difficulty "opening up." This will be especially so if his director is a younger man, or if he considers his director can have no comprehension of his char-acter. Suppose, for example, that the director is a younger man, that he entered religion on the completion of high school, and that he has had relatively little experience except in the direc-tion of seminarians. In such a case the older seminarian may find it difficult to talk about anything more dangerous than the weather, since he is aware of the considerable difference in background between himself and his director. This and similar cases may cause real difficulties in communication; the difficul-ties will be overcome only if the older seminarian recalls that 210 July, 1960 LATE VOCATION the same Providence which placed him in the seminary has also given him his superiors and directors. Armed with this con-sideration he must then put complete trust in his director, even if he finds it costs him dearly in wounded pride. As has been stated above, he has a special lesson in humility to learn. As a matter of fact, of course, younger directors can be quite satisfactory. Being aware of their relative inexperience, they tend to exercise great prudence in applying theological principles to concrete cases. Moreover, since many problems are solved by the mere telling, the seminarian should be quite con-tent if be can find a man to whom he can talk freely. Relations with the Younger Seminarians Probably the greatest trial which the older seminarian must undergo is being in a class of much younger men. Many institutes have a minor seminary to which they will send the older candidate for a year or so to give him some Latin and to observe him before sending him to the novitiate. The age dif-ference at this level is so great that he will usually be allowed certain privileges to make this period of adjustment easier. At the novitiate, however, he is considered for all practical pur-poses the contemporary of his fellow novices. Here the strict observance of the exterior prescriptions of the rule will place a heavy burden on a man who has enjoyed years of independ-ence. If, for example, he has been a heavy smoker for ten years or so and if he must observe a no-smoking rule, the damage to his good disposition will perhaps be compensated for in a cor-responding growth in character; but the sacrifice is sure to be severe--more so than for younger smokers. After leaving the novitiate where spiritual consolations and graces may have made the way easier for him, the older man' must still face years of study where the difference in age is no less than it was in the novitiate. These years of living with younger men un-questionably present a strain for his vocation; they will, how-ever, if properly met with patience and humility, give him his greatest opportunity for growth in emotional stability and for progress in the spiritual life. Most younger seminarians show brightness and intelligence in their speech and behavior. But at times this basie intelligence is accompanied by the thoughtlessness of immaturity. Many left their homes in middle adolescence; and sometimes their deport-ment tends to remain at the adolescent level, especially since 211 DAVID B. WADHAMS Review for Religion,s no one is constantly correcting them. This lack of maturity will be vexing for the older man, who is only too prone to see in the gaucherie of a few what he may tend to think of as the general boorishness of a class. Young men, for example, have an ex-tremely cavalier way of treating furniture. ,And if the older seminarian has spent the better part of three or four m~nths recovering and reupholstering the armchairs in the recreation room, he' has to swallow hard and bite his lip to keep from shouting at some young philosopher, blithely and quite uncon-sciously wiping'chocolate-covered fingers on the back of a newly covered chair, ¯ The older man must be careful in conversation too. His younger confreies will usually have no more than a ~udimentary background in the fields of non-religious knowledge.-Discussions of politics, art, the theater, economics, literature, all tend to be somewhat superficial. The younger man may often show a quick theoretical perception, yet he may lack sufficient critical discern-ment. Because of this the older man may find himself exercising an air of intellectual superiority and condescendingly needling his companions for their lack of sophistication. As one young seminarian has put it: "The older men ought to stop and think now and then that they have no monopoly on ideas. They could at least listen, even if they disagree." :o. In the midst of'such difficulties the older seminarian could well reflect that if he sometimes finds it difficult to be with the younger men, surely they too find his company occasionally try-ing. If he has passed through the fiery trials of the crucial years between twenty and thirty, his very scars should remind him that seminary life is not always easy for the young men who hunger for action and the exercise of their ministerial labors. Let him think back upon what he was doing at their age; the contrast should fill him with the desire for patience and for-bearance. If he was in the service, his amazement will be com-plete that fifty or more young men can .live together cheerfully, peacefully sharing a life of work, study, prayer, and play. oIn the service, as h~ knows, men behaved quite differently; by contrast, the charity of seminarians clearly shows the effect of supernatural grace. He should reflect maturely that if he is annoyed at little gaucheries and breaches of etiquette, some thoughtlessness and lack of discipline, he will never find more serious faults; for however much he may see of thoughtlessness in the seminary, he will encounter no deliberate malice. Indeed, 212 July, 1960 LATE VOCATION one of his greatest sufferings may be his anguish that he ~cannot accept the small shortcomings of others with greater grace and equanimity. Nostalgia for the Lay State During the first two or three years of his training the older man may be subject to a fierce nostalgia for the lay state. Just as the Jews hungered for the delights of their former, life in Egypt, the older seminarian may sometimes be seriously tempted to think of his life "in the world" as much more useful and vital. This feeling will be all the stronger in the man of great vitality. At times all the reasoning that brought him to his priestly studies will become darkened and submerged. He will forget that one great reason for his having left everything behind was a dissatisfaction with what he was doing. He may begin to chafe at certain restrictions, desiring freedom from the restraint of the seminary rule. What he begins to miss is the habitual adult independence he has always known. Sometimes he will think: "I am too fiercely independent; I am not tem-peramentally suited to the regular life; these habits of inde-pendence are ingrained." As serious as this temptation may be, it will tend to dis-appear as his security in his vocation grows; and in most cases it will not be a source of great anxiety after the~pronouncement of perpetual vows. The nostalgia for the lay state is one temp-tation which .can best be handled in spiritual direction. The subject should regard it as a serious temptation and conscien-tiously follow the course his director prescribes for him. Once a man finds himself in the major seminary of a religious con-gregation, he can rest in complete confidence as to his choice of a state in life. He has chosen by heeding the call; whether he should continue is for his superiors and spiritual :directors to decide. The cool and firm acceptance of this fact will save. the man the added anguish of continually doubting his vocation when the temptation arises to return to his former state of life. Conclusion The older seminarian must train himself to face his trials and difficulties peacefully and tranquilly. His age may indeed tend to make him less flexible in certain respects; he will be less subject to "formation," more set in his attitudes and out-look on life. But this very situation may also be an advantage. If he is mentally awake, he will be at the very., peak of his learning powers. Years of training in judgment will compensate 213 DAVID B. WADHAMS for any alleged diminution of learning powers said to begin after full adulthood is reached. Although the older seminarian may be tempted to think that his best years are being wasted in the seminary, he should remember that, just because he is older, he will see more deeply into the problems of philosophy and theology and that he will draw from them a greater intel-lectual enrichment and practical value. Finally, there are two general attitudes that will greatly .help an older man along in his seminary life. The two attitudes, one natural, the other supernatural, are so diverse as to be almost incongruous when juxtaposed together. Yet the two can work together to ease the trials of seminary life for him. The first attitude is that of a sense of humor. The man who finds his own idiosyncrasies laughable has a safety valve which he will need to use frequently. Since he is constantly confronted with human foibles, especially his own, it is far better to laugh at them with hearty, tolerant, and loving amusement than to dwell on them as consant pricks to pride and self-esteem. The second attitude is one that has been hinted at above; it is a complete trust in Divine Providence. Whatever can be said on the human level of religious life, there is never any waste in the management of things by the fatherly hand of God. The years the older seminarian spent "in the world" as well as the protracted time spent in seminary life before ordination are not useless but completely functional from the viewpoint of the Father who has counted even the hairs of our head. In this sense there is no such thing as a late vocation; the call came and was answered at the time chosen by Divine Wisdom. In this con-nection it will assist the older seminarian to reflect and meditate upon the role of late vocations in the history of the Church; it is not mere fancy to say that without late vocations the entire history of the Church would assume a different cast and com-plexion. Remove, for instance, the three late vocations of Ambrose, Augustine, and Loyola from the history of the Church and consider the difference the removal would make in the course of the Church's history. Indeed it would seem safe to say that of the confessor saints who lived before modern times, a large part of them, if not the majority, were what are called today late vocations. Having seen the finger of Providence with regard to late vocations in the history of the Church, the older sem-inarian will be able to draw therefrom a greater trust in that same Providence with regard to his own late vocation. 214 Is Religious Disobedience Always a Sin? Joseph J. Farraher, S.J. THE CONSTITUTIONS of most religious institutes state explicitly that they do not bind under pain of s{n, even venial sin, except where the vow of obedience is explicitly invoked, or where they determine the matter of the other vows. Most also state explicitly, or at least imply, that the same holds for orders of superiors. Why then do some spiritual writers imply otherwise? For example, Father Cotel in the Catechism of the Vows, says: One sins against the virtue of obedience when one does not carry out a formal order of a legitimate superior. If an order of a superior only recalls an obligation of rule or a com-mandment of God or of the Church, failure to observe it is not a fault against the special virtue of obedience. Such conduct often involves a sin against another virtue.1 In a footnote he adds: According to very famous theologians (St. Thomas, Suarez and others) a simple act of disobedience does not constitute a sin against the special virtue of obedience, but it contains nearly always one or more sins against other virtues.2 And in a later section, he says: Unless the Constitutions determine otherwise, simple injunctions of superiors, commands which are not. made in virtue of the vow, do not always oblige under pain of sin. If the superior formally commands a particular act not determined by the Constitutions, but in conformity with them, it is our opinion that disobedience is always sinful.:~ Again he adds a footnote: "Some thhologians seem ho~v-ever to admit the contrary:''4 And Father Kirsch in his Spi~'itual Di~'ection of Siste'rs under the heading "Sins against the Virtue of Obedience" says: "A religious offends against the virtue of obedience by disobey- 'Peter Cotel, S.J., and Emile Jombart, S.J., Catechis~n of the Vows (New York: Benziger, 1945), pp. 83-84. ~Ibid. ~Ibid., p. 85. ~Ibid. The Reverend Joseph J. Farraher is stationed at Alma College, Los Gatos, California 215 JOSEPH J', FARRAHER Review for Religious ing without reason, the usual commands, regulations, counsels and wishes of the superiors.''5 How can these statements be reconciled with the explicit statement of the constitutions of most religious institutes that fione of the rules or orders of superiors bind under pain of sin unless they explicitly invoke the vow? First of all, Father Kirsch and Father Cotel's Catechism imply that there could be a sin against the virtue of obedience as distinct from the vow of obedience. In this matter, wh usually think of the Fourth Commandment as commanding obedience to all legitimate superiors. Are not religious superiors legitimate superiors? However, the Fourth Commandment commands us to obey all legitimate superiors according to their authority. For ex-ample, children are obliged to obey their parents in all things, except where there is sin, and except in the choice of a state of life: marriage or the religious life. In this last the parents have no authority, and therefore there is no sin of disobedience if children disobey their parents in their choice of life. What is the source of the authority i~f religious superiors to give commands which would be binding under pain of sin by the virtue of obedience? It is not from the natural law, since religious communities are not natural societies, but rather conventional, that is, they are formed by the mutual agreement of the members. Therefore, if there is authority in religious superiors, it will be according to the form under which the in-stitute was organized. But most modern religious institutes (and even some ancient ones) state in their constitutions that. orders of superiors will bind under pain of sin only when they command explicitly in virtue of the vow of obedience. Therefore, there is here no source of authority to command under pain of sin apart from invoking the vow. But some authors, even when they admit that disobedience would not be a sin against the virtue of obedience (which even Cotel seems grudgingly to admit in a later passage), still insist that it almost always involves a sin against some other virtue.6 This brings up the question, certainly a theoretical one but one with very important practical applications, of whether or not a positive imperfection is a venial sin. By a positive imper-fection is meant the deliberate choice of a less perfect action, 5Felix M. Kirsch, O.F.M.Cap., The Spiritual Direction of Sisters (New York: Benziger, 1930), pp. 483-84. 6Cotel, op. cir., pp. 86-87. 216 J~dy, 1960 RELIGIOUS DISOBEDIENCE or the deliberate omission of the better action. For example, I realize that it would be better for me to make a visit to the Blessed Sacrament at this. time; but I deliberately decide not to do so, with no question of the alternative being a sin in itself-- perhaps to continue reading a book. Some theologians have held that every such positive imperfection would be a venial sin. They base their argument on the principle that we are obliged to seek our last end in the best way possible. But this contradicts the opinion of the majority of theologians. We are certainly obliged to seek our last end, but not necessarily in the best way possible. And it seems to me that we have a very strong argument from Holy Scripture itself, in several places, that it is not sinful to choose the less perfect. The most explicit example, I think, is in St. Paul's First Epistle to the Corinthians, in the seventh chapter, where he is talking about virginity and marriage. In verses seven and eight, he says: "I would that all men were even as myself [the im-plication is: virginal].; but everyone hath his proper gift from God: one after this manner, and another after that. But I say to the unmarried and. to the widows: it is good for them if they continue, even as I." And later in the same chapter: "Now con-cerning virgins, I have no commandment of the Lord, but I give counsel, as having obtained mercy of the Lord to be faithful. I think therefore that this is good for the present necessity : that it is good for a man so to be. Art thou bound to a wife? Seek not to be loosed. Art thou loosed from a wife? Seek not a wife. But if thou take a wife, thou hast not sinned. And if a virgin marry, she hath not sinned" (vv. 25ff.). And still a little further on, where St. Paul is talking about a father giving his daughter in marriage: "Therefore, both he that giveth his virgin in marriage doth well: and he that giveth her not doth better" (v. 38). Is not St. Paul saying explicitly here that while it is better to remain virginal, nevertheless it is not a sin to marry? This certainly is the choice between the better and the less good. And he does not qualify it by saying that if one cannot do the better, it is all right to do the less good. He simply gives a comparison: that for the same man, it is better if he does not marry, but it is good if he does, and he does not sin in marrying. So, this is at least one example where deliberately choosing the lesser good is 217 JOSEPH J. FARRAHER Review for Religious not a sin: which proves that the universal statement to the contrary is false. But some adversaries answer: At least to disobey a rule or order of superiors would almost always be a sin because it will involve a bad motive. They give as examples, that it will be done out of laziness or sensuality or human respect. For this, Father Gerald Kelly, S.J., has a good answer in his book on Guidance for Religious (pp. 258-59).7 He is talking about the obligation of daily morning and evening prayers; but, as he himself says, it applies also to the obligation of rules: They would say (i.e., those holding for sin): "Theoretically there is no obligation to pray every day: but in practice there is usually a sin in the omission of these prayers, because when daily prayers are omitted without a sufficient reason this is often due to a small fault of laziness, sensuality, or human respect." This formula, or a somewhat similar one, is sponsored by eminent theologians; and catechists who wish to follow it in explaining the duty of praying are certainly justified in doing so. But I would not recommend it. I find it confusing. It says, on the one hand, that daily prayers are not of obligation, yet on the other, it demands a sufficient reason under pain of sin for omitting them. This seems to beg the entire question; for if there is no obligation to say daily prayers, why should a reason be required under pain of sin for omitting them? As for the statement that failure to say these prayers could be a sin of laziness, it seems to ignore completely the distinction between imperfection and venial sin. [In a footnote at this point, Fr. Kelly admits that those who hold that every positive im-perfection is a venial sin would logically hold this doctrine.] Laziness is not a sin in the strict sense; it is an inordinate disposition or tendency, and it becomes sinful only when it leads to the neglect of some duty binding under pain of sin. In other words, laziness is an imperfection when it induces one to act against a counsel (for instance, to break a rule which does not bind under pain of sin), and it is a sin when it leads one to violate a precept (for instance, to miss Sunday Mass in whole or in part). And what I have said of laziness is similarly true of such things as sensuality and human respect. According to this doctrine of Father Kelly, if a person de-liberately violates a rule or ordination of superiors, because it is easier not to do the thing ordered, for love of comfort, or for laziness, if you want to call it that, it is not a sin. Obviously, to seek comfort is not of itself a sin, or we could not have any cushions, soft beds, pillows, or anything of the kind. A certain amount of comfort is even necessary. The love of comfort there-fore is not wrong in itself; it is wrong only when it leads one to do something that is sinful, or to omit something to which one is bound under pain of sin. To omit something to which one is not bound, because of the love of comfort, is not therefore a sin. 7Westminster: Newman, 1956. 218 July, 1960 RELIGIOUS DISOBEDIENCE Obviously, if the action one chooses in place of obeying the rule is something sinful in itself, it will be a sin. But the mere fact that it is breaking the rule, will not of itself ever make an action a sin that would not be a sin even if there were no rule. How then does one sin against obedience? Aside from dis-obeying those commands which are given in virtue of the vow of obedience, one can also sin against obedience by formal con-tempt for authority. All the authors agree that this does not mean contempt for the person who holds authority, but formal contempt for authority itself. One can also sin against other virtues in disobeying the rules. Formal contempt for religious life and religious rule in general would be a sin against the virtue of religion. And, as was said before, if there is a really sinful motive in one's action and not ,just a less perfect motive, then there will be a sin; but that is apart from the fact that a rule is being violated. There is a further way in which one might sin by dis-obedience to rules and regulations: if one does it habitually, one might very well be getting into a proximate danger of losing his vocation. For a novice, that would not be sinful, because a novice is not bound to that vocation. But one who has taken perpetual vows is bound for life. Therefore, to endanger the perpetuity of his vows knowingly and willingly could be a sin. Generally speaking, an individual violation of a rule or an order of superiors not invoking the vow of obedience would not be a sin in itself, unless the act is sinful apart: from any violation of the rule. I hope that it is cl,early understood that I am not suggesting that we should violate rules or orders of superiors. Certainly, if we truly want to signalize ourselves in the more perfect following of our Lord, we shall ordinarily do our best to observe all rules and regulations. But our motive should be the love of God, not the fear of sin. But is not the rule the will of God for us? Is it not wrong to go against God's will? It would be wrong to go against the preceptive will of God. But the rule is not the preceptive will of God; it is a counsel, a guidepost or directive to the better way of serving and loving God. And even then the statement must be qualified: ordinarily the rule indicates the better thing to be done. But, as we know, no rule made by a human being can be so perfect that it could not admit of exceptions in extraordinary circumstances. But at least ordinarily, in ordinary circumstances, 219 JOSEPH J. FARRAHER Review for Religious the rule is for us the indication of the better way of serving God. But what about the form of the rules? Some will say that they are in the form of laws and all true laws bind in conscience. Some thelogians, myself included, would not agree that all laws must bind in conscience,s But if such a statement is admitted, then the rules are not laws. Because they do not intend to bind in conscience, regardless of how they are worded. This is clear from the constitutions themelves in stating that they do not bind under pain of sin. So, regardless of their wording, they are meant as mere directives to the more perfect following of Christ. Is there any sense in which they contain an obligation? Yes, I think there is- but not under pain of sin. What does obligation mean ? It seems to be a form of necessity in the moral order. When I say moral order here, I mean not in the physical or metaphysical order, but in the order of human conduct. It is a conditional necessity. If we want to achieve a certain end, we must do this particular thing. When we speak of a moral obli-gation, not simply an obligation in the moral order, but an obligation binding under pain of sin, we mean this: that if we want to achieve our ultimate end, we must do a certain thing. Now, we are obliged to seek our ultimate end, therefore we have an absolute necessity to take the necessary means. But if the end itself is not absolutely necessary, then we have no absolute necessity to take the means. We have only a conditional necessity. If we want this particular end, we must take these means. There are obvious examples of this use of words implying obligation which are certainly outside the realm of sin. For instance, if you are playing bridge and bid two spades, you must take eight tricks. That is an obligation, an obligation not under Pain of sin, but an obligation of the game. If you do not take eight tricks, you will receive a penalty. There is no moral fault in not taking the required number of tricks, nor does the in-flicting of a penalty imply this. But there is a certain necessity to take the eight tricks, if you want to succeed at the game. So also in the moral order : we might speak of the conditions of gaining an indulgence. One must fulfill all the conditions, if one wants to gain the indulgence. But one is not obliged to gain the indulgence. Therefore, one is not obliged absolutely to do these things required for the indulgence. For ihstance, if one sSt. Thomas also holds that counsels are an ordinary part of the law, Summa Theologiae, 1-2, 104, 4. 220 J~dy, 1960 RELIGIOUS DISOBEDIENCE wishes to say the same prayer, but not fulfill the conditions of the indulgence, he is free to do so. But if one wants to gain the indulgence, one must fulfill the conditions. You can call that a form of obligation, but not under pain of sin. So also with the rules. If we want to follow the more perfect way, we must do what the rule commands. But are we not obliged to seek.the more. perfect way by our profession as religious? No, the religious profession binds us under pain of sin only to those.things which are explicitly vowed, ~vhich are poverty according to the constitutions, chastity in its perfection, including celibacy or virginity, and obedience in those things which are commanded in virtue of the vow. This is a more perfect way of life, and to this much we are strictly obliged under pain of sin. But we are not obliged by the vows to seek the most perfect in everything we do: If we want to be more perfect still, we must follow the rules and regular;ions. But we are not obliged to them under pain of sin. If we so neglect them that we proximately endanger the fulfillment of our vows or their perpetuity, then of course we are sinni.ng,. Are we not obliged under pain of sin at least by the law.of the Church, which in canon 593 says that religious should order their lives in accordance with the rules and constitutions of their own order and so strive for perfection? A Claretian moralist, Father A. Peinador recently proposed this argument.9 But practically all authorities on canon law, including the out-standing Claretian expert on the canon law of religious, Father Goyeneche,1° agree that this canon adds no new obligation, and that, in fact, a religious can sin against the specific obligation of striving for perfection only by contempt, and not even by individual violations of his vows. In spite of Father Peinador's worries, the individuality of each order is still preserved by the fact that the rules and constitutions determine the matter of the vows and further determine the matter in ~vhich superiors can invoke the vow of obedience. Two. other arguments are proposed by Father Peinador in his effort to prove that the rules and constitutions, oblige under pain of sin in spite of his admission, that this is contrary ~"'Obligan o no obligan las reglas?" Vida Religiosa, 16 (1959), 149-52, 216-20. I°Qt~aestio~es Ca~tonicae de Ittre Religiosor~¢~, 2 (Naples: D'Auria, 1955), 8. Cf. also Bouscaren-Ellis, C(t~ton Law (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1953), p. 285. 221 JOSEPH J. FARRAHER Review for Religious to the wishes of both-their authors and the Church herself. The first is based on the expression, used by St. Thomas and others, that the rules oblige ad poenam: It is true that some authors have interpreted this to mean that, although the rules do not oblige to their immediate object, they do impose an obligation under pain of sin to accept any penance imposed for their viola-tion. Father Peinador thinks that it is absurd to hold that the rules would impose a heavier obligation to accept a penance than to do what is enjoined in the first place. But if it is an absurdity (and I am among those who agree that it is), the conclusion should not be that "therefore the rules oblige under pain of sin," but rather, "therefore there is no obligation under pain of sin to accept a penance imposed by rule or by superiors unless it is imposed in virtue of the vow (as some few are in some con-stitutions), or unless the avoidance of the penance would be a sin for some other reason.''11 Some further explanation may seem required here; but as was hinted above, to discuss the whole question of the obligation of law in general and of purely penal laws in particular, would take too much time and space. Let it suffice for now to point out two briefer answers: either that the constitutions and rules are not truly laws, as Father Peinador himself holds; or, that the expression ad poenam,really means what we would usually indicate by sub poena. This is clear from St. Thomas's use of the expression in opposition to ~d culpam, in English we might translate sub poena (and hence ad poenam as used by St. Thomas) as under threat of penalty, just as we usually translate ad culpam or sub culpa as under pain of sin. Finally, Father Peinador complains that if the rules do not oblige "under pain of sin" (sub culpa), they oblige only "under pain of imperfection" (ba]o imperfecci6n), which to him does not make sense. The expression does sound peculiar; I have never before seen it used. What is usually held is that the violation of a rule is usually an imperfection. I do not think that anyone considers this a threat, as ba]o would seem to imply. It does imply that desire for perfection for love of God rather than fear of sin should be our motive for obeying the rule. If Father Peina-dor means to imply that every positive imperfection is a sin, his objection has already been answered above. l~That this is true of purely penal laws is taught by Vermeersch, I, n. 472, and St. Alphonsus, Theologia moralis, lib. I, n. 145. 222 July, 1960 RELIGIOUS DISOBEDIENCE To summarize: one would sin against religious obedience only on two scores: by a direct violation of an order given in virtue of the vow, or by formal contempt for authority (admit-tedly a very rare form of sin). Endangering the fulfillment of the vows, or contempt for religious life or constitutions could be a sin against religion. Otherwise, a violation of a rule or regulation will be a sin only if the act would be sinful apart from all idea of disobedience. An example of what might be a sin on the occasion of a violation of a rule would be a violation of silence in sfich a way as to disrupt the common order and to cause real inconvenience and mental suffering to those who are trying to serve God in a more perfect way according to the rule. The principles of what is given above are those taught by practically all theologians, including St. Thomas Aquinas,I~ St. Alphonsus,13 and Suarez.14 The practical application as to how often a violation of a rule may involve a sin for some other reason differs from Suarez, who judges that a violation will almost always involve a venial sin because of a venially sinful motive. In this he is correctly cited in Father Cotel's footnote cited earlier. St. Thomas and St. Alphonsus hold that a violation can and perhaps often does involve a venial sin because of a venially sinful motive. All three agree that no violation of a rule will be a venial sin because it is a violation of a rule, but only if the act would be a sin apart from any violation of the rule. Some who follow Suarez' rather severe judgment of fact are heard at times to say such things as: a violation of the rule of silence almost always (or very frequently) involves a venial sin against charity. That seems a rather severe judgment. If one sincerely held that, he would have to hold that almost all conversation, even during recreation times, involves sins against charity. I would not like to admit that. 1"-'Summa Theologiae, 2-2, 186, 9, for the rule; 104, 5, for orders of superiors; 186, 3, on the obligation to perfection. ~'~Theologi~ moralis, lib. IV, n. 38, for the rule; n. 42 for orders of superiors.In both places he simply gives the text of Busenbaum without further comment. ~4De religione, tract. 8, lib. 1, "De obligationibus religiosorum . . . ," cap. IV, nn. 12-13. 223 JOSEPH J. FARRAHER In a'll this we must always remember that the chief motive for embracing religious life should be the more perfect serving of God, and that love of God, not fear of sin, should lead all religious ordinarily to follow all rules and regulations of superiors.15. -. l~Father Rene Carpentier, S.J., in his Life in the City of God (New York: Benziger, 1959), ~vhich according to the title-page is "a completely recast edition, of A Catcchis~t of the Vows," emphasizes the motive of love throughout the book. He also states the obligations of religious obedience under pain of sin, pp. 158-63, much more in the manner outlined in this article. 224 The Problem of Transition for the Junior Sister Sister Mary Magdalen, OoP. In a narrow circle the mind contracts; Man grows with his expanded needs.I THESE WORDS of the eighteenth-century poet apply to any of us at any one stage of our lives; and we who have the rich treasury of the Church always at our disposal must, indeed, blush if our needs do not precipitate that growth which "enriches the harvest o~ charity so that [we] will have abun-dant means of every kind for all that generosity which gives proof of our gratitude toward G6d" (2 Cor 9:10-11). At certain times in our life of grace we reach a plane where a marked change or growth takes place, from which we emerge with new attitudes, firmer convictions to reach for higher alti-tudes. We are not "that which we have been.''2 We have expe-rienced a transition, a "development or evolution from one clearly-defined stage to another"; a "changing from an earlier to a later form with the blending of old and new features"; a building-up which enhances and brings to completion the foun-dation already laid. Such transitions we will experience often enough as we go life's journey; one such is the particular aim of the juniorate period, following the novitiate formation in religious houses. The areas of sensitivity in this development are not difficult to ascertain as we watch the junior sister try to find her place in professed life. She must adapt herself to a more intensive study program, to a more mature assuming of responsibility under obedience, to new social relations that include some secular contacts, to a wider range of age levels and interests in her own religious family. She finds herself being urged toward develop-ing her individuality, yet toward a more virile obedience ; toward creativity, yet toward a zealous dedication to the common life; 1Schiller, Prologues, 1.59. :Byron, Childe Harold, Canto 4, stanza 185. Sister Mary Magdalen is Mistress of Jt~niors at St. Catherine's Convent, Racine, Wisconsin. 225 SISTER ~/~ARY MAGDALEN Review for Religious she is confused in her new environment of "thinking for your-self" and "thinking with the community." Above all, she is not a little appalled by the large issue of resolving~everything within her obligation to grow daily in the love of God, a duty she freely assumed ~with her vows. "How," she asks, bewildered, "do I harmonize it all?" It becomes the task of the junior mistress, then, and of all who deal with the juniors, to analyze the situation, to provide gradually the helps they need to adapt, to take root, and to grow. Since the juniorate provides an intensive study program, what transition will be involved here? Perhaps this is the place, if it has not been previously achieved, to give a clearer under-standing of a truly integrated liberal arts program and the end toward which it aims. We find that though this has been dis-cussed from the postulant's beginning year, the junior sister, probably entering her junior academic year in college, will now be more ready to appreciate such a program. Study is much more the dominant activity of her day than in the earlier years when the novelty of the life, novitiate formation, absence of stability of profession--all militated somewhat against an inten-sive concentrated life of study. Indeed, it may even be somewhat of a problem to convince all junior sisters of the proportionate importance of study in their lives. To sound this note last August we prepared a sym-posium and informal discussion before college classes began on: "The Place of Study in Religious Life." The outline used follows at the end of this paper. Since at this time some of the young sisters still need help with the self-discipline of study, a candid reporting and dis-cussion of these difficulties individually with the mistress offers a helpful way to arouse the sincere desire and effort to establish the habit. Study time must, of course, be provided, and the course load be kept within limits, credit-wise. Long periods of study from two to three hours, at least sometimes, are a real necessity. Along with developing an attitude toward study, these are the years during which to build an attitude toward a habit of broad and well-chosen reading. The young sister must be helped in this by providing the right reading matter, by dis-cussion and motivation toward the choice she will be required to make. The sister must be shown that the need for a profes-sional woman is to keep well-informed on current trends, cul-tural, economic, scientific, to know the mind of the Church on 226 July, 1960 THE JUNIOR SISTER controversial matters, to discuss opinions intelligently (first, to have some), and to choose books that will broaden her ability to evaluate literature, history, the arts, and contemporary move-ments. Here the college instructors must be interested, as, indeed, we find them to be. The Directed Readings courses in the various fields of concentration challenge the sisters to a critical evalua-tion of works ranging through Plato, Aristotle, and Longinus to Tawney's Religion and the Rise of Capitalism, Karl Marx's Kapital, Veblen's Theory of the Leisure Class, works of Newman, Maritain, Hemingway, and Riesman. This practice in seeing'rela-tion of parts to a whole, in evaluation, and in individual and group critical thinking is a facility that can be used by way of transition in attitudes toward religious life. At a recent Chicago meeting of the AHE (Association for Higher Education) the emphasis in a sectional discussion centered on the need for a right conformity along with creativity in thinking and adting. Mr. Kenneth Little of the University of Wisconsin, quoting St. Augustine, reminded the educators present that "the best indi-viduality will ultimately lead to a slavery to God." The whole trend of thinking was that basic disciplines in the classical tradi-tions alone will prepare the mind to develop its own freedom in thinking on contemporary issues and problems. Conformity, rightly understood, and creativity must be seen to be comple-mentary rather than incompatible. The thoughtful junior sister will soon transfer this understanding to' her life of obedience and the development of her own personality. The principles of integration found in the curriculum will take on a new meaning for the sister student at this level. She will begin to relate her biological and physical sciences to the philosophical concepts at her disposal, and her theology, besides becoming a stronger personal defense in her religious life, will serve as a norm to which each discipline will look, while retain-ing its individual distinction as a science. Literature will become a laboratory in which human problems are tested and tried but never completely solved and from which vision .will often arise; contemporary changes on the technological, political, economic scene will prove a challenge, fitting themselves into place in human history, posing questions for the present, challenges for the immediate future. From these understandings and attitudes we can help the young sister in her personal problem of living her vows. From conformity and individuality in analyzing literature, art; and 227 SISTER MARY MAGDALEN Review for Religious history, we can lead her to a clearer appreciation of the en-nobling power of obedience, of her duty to expand her talents, to enrich her personality, and to strengthen her character. She can find her penance in the long hours of severe mental and physical discipline demanded by study; she can direct this pen-ance by her will to love ; she will find her reward both in growth in grace and in love of learning. Father Gustave Weigel, S.J., puts it thus: "Esteem for scholarship will not be produced by legislation or even construction of programs. It is a matter of creative love. To love you must be acquainted. To look for new acquaintances, there must be dissatisfaction with what is at hand.'''~ This dissatisfaction will prompt her to forge ahead in both her intellectual and her supernatural life, for we must help her constantly to see these as one. When to interpret for herself, when to seek advice, when the letter, when the spirit of the law--these knowledges must come to her somewhat through experience, even, as to all of us, through trial and error. No-where will she find the standard rule, the "capsuled" formula, though she will eagerly seek it. We can instruct with examples, but we must also leave room for failure, that necessary human-izing experience from which we as a people shrink. The junior sister must be encouraged to think out her own problems, to do some interpreting of emergency situations, to come out with the wrong answer and face her own mistake. She must be helped through this to the courage to start over, to smile through difficulties, to laugh at herself at times. Many of these understandings and developed appreciations of her religious life, then, will be incidental, casual, imbibed along with her daily living. A formal program of instruction, is, of course, necessary also. We have found the third part of Father McElhone, C.S.C.'s, Spirituality for Postulate, No~)itiate, Scholasticatea an excellent and practical guide for weekly instruc-tions. It lends itelf to natural deviations as the needs of the group demand. The divisions are: Sacrifice, Charity, Humility, Offense to God, Love of God, Accusation of Faults and Sins, Security of Rules and Vows, Temptation, Identification with Christ, Communion, Authority, The Trinity, Eternal Life. The material will easily spread itself over a two-year period. In covering "Sacrifice" we spent some weeks discussing sacrifice 3Gustave Weigel, S.J., "American Catholic Intellectualism," Review Politics, 19 (July, 1957), 275-307. 4Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1955. 228 July, 1960 THE JUNIOR SISTER and renewing our undertanding and appreciation of the Mass, concentrating especially on My Mass by Joseph Putz, S.J.5 Then the virtues of sacrifice, humility, and charity were studied as they w~re portrayed in the lives of our Dominican Saints and our foundress, Mother Benedicta Bauer, O.P. This carried us through the first semester. "Offense to God" and "Accusation of Faults and Sins" we combined in a study of the use of the sacrament of penance, of general and particular examen of ~onscience, and the relation of these to meditation and recol-lection. Our object here was to challenge the sister to see these aspects of her religious growth as a unit, to help her approach her subject of particular examen positively, through the practice of recollection, through harmonizing it .when possible with meditation and mental prayer, with her efforts at self-knowledge. This is to militate against the discouragement commonly ex-pressed by the young sister: "If I make a resolution after meditation, one in my particular examen, one after confession, if I try to concentrate on something quite different during silence by way of recollection, where do I end?--in confusion!" We make an effort, then to "integrate" here, though admittedly it is uphill work, one which is only begun, since it involves patient waiting for the Holy Spirit. Meanwhile we show the importan'ce of constantly striving anew, of making consistent efforts at particular examen, recollection, and mental prayer, cardinal points on which ultimate success hinges. One can help the sister here, individually again; but the approach to the individual conference should put the burden of effort, at least apparently, on the sister herself. Does she need help? Does she want help? Let her go on from there. In still another sphere, we find the junior sister facing a transition--that of adjusting to secular companions in some of her classes and to a more mature group of sisters. We believe in having the juniors mix with the other professed. While we do have provisions for separate recreations, our junior sisters have free contact with all the sisters and join them in many of their recreations. This is an idea] situation for their better under-standing of the older s~sters, for a new relationship with their college teachers. It gives them an insight into the life and valuable services of our nurses and domestic sisters. There are opportunities to observe and test their own youthful impru- ~Westminster: Newman, 1958. 229 SISTER MARY MAGDALEN Review for Religious dences; to visit the sick and read to them; to share experiences with sisters who are not engaged in the schools; to get a better picture of the personnel needed to do all of the community's work. In the classroom situation, too, ihey meet secular students. They are sometimes confronted with unexpected competition, with views, outlooks, examples which alert them to problems of a world from which they are otherwise easily removed. They are challenged at making small decisions as to conversation, explanation, to a sense of poise and graciousness expected of them, to a loyalty to their community, experienced in practice for the first time. We might ask, now, besides the religious instruction and individual counselling, what other approaches can be t~sed to help the juniors in these important transitions? Here, more than ever before in the formation period, must we help her to help herself. An effective and appealing method to face and penetrate mutual problems is the group discussion--in any form. We mentioned earlier an orientation-to-school discussion on "The Place of Study in the Religious Life." The topic was broken down thus : I. Definition of Terms. II. St. Thomas and Study. The virtue of studiousness. a. What it is. b. What it is not. III. Study and the Religious Life. a. Purpose. b. Integration. IV. Practical Considerations. a. Attitudes: . b. Motives. c. Advantages. V. The Apostolate and Study. a. Need for preparation. b. Responsibility of an "apostle." The sisters admitted to a new alertness in the importance of the role of study in their lives. We feel it convinced them that study was truly the chief duty of their state for the time being. Another topic for discussion suggested by the young sisters themselves later in the year as representing a direct need was: "Practical Aspects of Poverty." Our approach this time: Each 230 Ju~, 1960 THE ,.]'UNIOR SISTER sister was asked to submit a question of her own on the subject. These were classified and duplicated so that all might consider, discuss, investigate, and mull over in informal conversation before the final discussion. Other discussions fruitful in broad-ening and stabilizing the sisters' views were centered on "Criti-cism and Censorship in Art and Literature," and on two rather controversial lectures delivered by Ashley Montagu and Vance Packard respectively. We hold, also, weekly, an informal dis-cussion of the Sunday Gospel with the question in mind: "What is Christ telling or asking of us in these words of His?" Quite frequently the discussion leads to a healthy "housecleaning" on points of courtesy, rule, and schedule, and to a group resolution, spontaneously arrived at. Summarily, if the atmosphere of the juniorate and of the sister's entire environment is one of mutual generosity and sin-cere desire to help them make the most of this valuable time, if they are encouraged in the virtues of honesty, candor, and justice, if they are helped to.appreciate somewhat the challenge of the complexities of life, no matter where it is lived, the efforts of all involved will be greatly repaid. We can, then, app~:oach this transition period with the junior sister, aware of the challenge, alert to the possibilities for development, humbly confident that "according to the grace that is given us" (Rom 5:2) we can help .her grow up toward her full stature in Christ. 231 Survey of Roman Documents R. I~. Smith, S.J. IN THIS ARTICLE a summary will be given of the documents that appeared in Acta Apostolicae Sedis (AAS) during January, February, and March, 1960. All references throughout the survey will be to the 1960 AAS (v. 52). The Christmas Message The 1959 Christmas message (pp. 27-35) was devoted by John XXIII to the subject of peace. The first and most important part of the message was concerned with three types of peace and the conditions under which each type can exist, l~eace, His Holiness said, is first of all peace of heart, an interior state of the spirit of each individual. The condition for this kind of peace, he added, is a loving and filial dependence on the will of God. The Second type of peace considered by the Holy Father was social peace, harmony within nations. This peace, he stated, must be based on a deep respect for the personal dignity of each man. ~Christ's incarnation and redemption, he continued, has dignified not only the human race, but each individual of the race. For if He has so loved the individual as to give Himself for him (Gal 2:20), then each man deserves to be given an absolute respect. This attitude is fundamental to all the Church's social teaching, according to which wealth, economy,, and the state are for man, and not man for them. The internal peace of nations, he warned, is threatened by treating men as mere instruments, simple means of production. Contrariwise only by recognizing the dignity of man will a natioa be able to dissolve civil discord. The Vicar of Christ then discussed the third type of peace, inter-national peace. The basis for this peace according to the Pope's message ¯ is truth. The Christian saying that the truth will make men free is also valid on the level of international relations. Hence in the pursuit of peace on the international level, force, nationalism, and the like must be sur-passed; and attempts towards peace must be based on rational and Christian moral principles. From truth, he added, proceeds justice; and justice in turn must be sustained by Christian charity which by its nature embraces all men. Then only will there be a real international life and not merely a coexistence. In the second part of the message the Holy Father pointed out errors b~eing made today by those who are striving to bring peace to the world. Peace, he said in this connection, is indivisible; hence it must be present in all its elements. Accordingly social and international peace are impossible without peace of heart. For true peace men must first of all 232 ROMAN DOCUMENTS be "men of good will." Hence the first step towards peace must be to remove the moral obstacles to it, especially in view of the present dis-equilibrium between scientific progress and moral progress. In the third part of the message the Pope spoke of the work of the Church for peace. He pointed out that she prays for peace; moreover she uses all her means, especially the treasures of her doctrine, to produce peace. It is indeed in and through her doctrine that she has been able to formulate the leading causes of modern international disturbance. These causes are the following: violations of the human person, of the family, and of labor; a disregard of the true and Christian idea of the state; the deprivation of the liberty of other nations; the systematic oppression of the cultural and linguistic characteristics of national minorities; a selfish use of economic resources to the damage and injury of other nations; and the persecution of religion and of the Church. In the fourth and final part of the message John XXIII called on all Catholics to be active in the work for peace and to be conscious of the fact that they have a command from on high for such activity. He then expressed his best wishes to all men especially the poor, the humble, and the suffering. The Consistories On December 14 and December 17, 1959 (pp. 5-24), the Pontiff held three consistories for the creation of eight new cardinals. In the first consistory, which was a secret one, the Pope delivered an allocution in which he stated that his choice of the new cardinals had been governed by a desire to show forth not only the unity of the Church but her univer-sality as well. The rest of his allocution was concerned with a summary of the principal events in the preceding year of his pontificate. Thereafter there took place the creation of the new cardinals; Cardinals Cicognani and Copello changed their cardinalatial churches; appointments to the hierarchy since the last consistory were read out; and the consistory closed with the postulation of the pallium b y newly appointed archbishops. In the second and public consistory the Holy Father imposed the red hat on the new cardinals. In the third consistory, which again was a secret one, the latest appointments to the hierarchy were announced and cardinalatial churches were assigned to the new members of the Sacred College. To the Laity On January 10, 1960 (pp. 83-90), His Holiness addressed an allocution to members of Catholic Action of the diocese of Rome. In the first part of the allocution the Pontiff detailed his long interest in Catholic Action, remarking that he has been actively associated with it since the year 1922. He also expressed his utmost confidence in Catholic Action for the future. In the second part of the allocution the Vicar of Christ developed some of the characteristics of Catholic Action. He told his listeners that Catholic Action was first of all a help to the clergy, as its classic definition 233 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious as the collaboration of the laity in the a~ostolate of the hierarchy shows. The work of Catholic Action, he pointed out, is an effort towards the ful-fillment of that part of the Our Father which reads,."Thy kingdom come." This work of the laity began already in ~he time of the apbstles; it was in this time too that the principle was laid down that nothing should be done without the bishop. The work of Catholic Action, however, can never be achieved without a solid spiritual formation of the individual member. Hence he exhorted his listeners to a life of habitual prayer accompanied by a deep liturgical spirit and a profound sense of the Church. Catholic Action, the Pope continued, is also a spectacle of disciplined unity. The unity of the Church, he said, has an irresistible attractiveness for men. Accordingly Catholic Action must be and appear an organization of union and concord; and this harmony must be shown simultaneously on the level of ideas, of plans, and of execution. Finally the Pontiff said that Catholic Action must be a luminous sign for modern times; it must be the angel in Apoc 14:6 wl~ich carried aloft the eternal gospel. Catholic Action will be. such a sign by defending the fundamental principles of Christian social order, by safeguarding the rights of man, and by validating the things that constitute man's dignity, his liberty, and his inalienable rights. The subject of education was also treated by the Pope in another written message of January 10, 1960 (pp. 100-103). This message was directed to the Interamerican Congress of Catholic Education held at Ciudad de San Josg in Costa Rica. In the message he told the congress that every true and deep education is the work of grace; hence the chief work of the educator is to cooperate with that grace. In order that an adolescent will persevere in the spiritual life given to him by the school, it is necessary, said the Pope, that the school develop in the child a spirit of initiative and an atmo~sphere of spontaneity and sincerity. Moreover, religious training must be directed not only to the intellect but to the will and heart as well. Furthermore, the Pontiff continued, religious culture should parallel the youth's growth in literary and scientific matters. Finally, religiou~ training should prepare the youth for his future family~ civic, and professional responsibilities; it should also provide him with an exercise of the apostolate and of charity. On November 25, 1959 (pp. 54-55), John XXIII directed a written message to the International Federation of Catholic Youth, meeting in Buenos Aires. Among ~other pieces of advice to them, the Vicar of Christ urged them to a great love and respect for their priests and chaplains, telling them that it is these priests who will open to them the sources of Christian doctrine, imbue them with the spirit of sacrifice and self-mastery, and lead them to a generous life of prayer and self-giving. A written message of December 8, 1959 (pp. 96-98), was directed by the Vicar of Christ to the meeting of Pax Romana held in Manila and devoted to the theme of the social responsibility of the student and the intellectual. He told the group that they should be proud of having been. chosen by 234 July, 1960 ROMAN DOCUMENTS Christ to be His witnesses even to the ends of the world. They must, he wrote, make themselves worthy of their call by living a profoundly Christian life; and they must endeavor to gain the respect of their col-leagues by their professional and moral competence. He also bade them to direct their studies to the Church's social doctrine, since the countries of Asia are now in a period of rapid economic growth. Finally he urged them to translate the message of Christian truth into forms appropriate to the Oriental soul. On February 9, 1960 (pp. 158-60), the Holy Father sent a written message to the school children of the United States asking them to pray for the needy children of other lands that they may be kept free from sin and have the strength to overcome temptation. He also asked them to be generous in contributing gifts, clothes, and money to such children. On December 8, 1959 (AAS, pp. 45-50), His Holiness addressed a group of Italian Catholic lawyers. Since the group had previously dis-cussed the subject of freedom of the press, it was this subject that the Pontiff considered in his allocution to them. He disclosed to his listeners his grave anxiety over much that is being printed today and its effects on the young and the innocent. In the matter.of the liberty of the press, he continued, it is always.necessary to have a clear conscience as well as one that is balanced, not insensitive, and not lax. The right to truth, he said, and the right to an objective morality based on the permanence of divine law is anterior and superior to every other right and need. Accord~ ingly there are necessary limitations to the freedom of the press and these limitations are found especially in matters that may do violence to the innocence of the child and the adolescent. Is it ever licit, he asked his listeners, to make a criminal deed the occasion of description and narration that are nothing else than a school of sin and an incentive to vice? In this area, the Pope insisted, the limitations of the press must be rigorously defined; and he called on his audience to study the matter carefully. He also told the lawyers that they should not fea~ to reprove the press and should endeavor to subject it to a human, civil, and Christian discipline. They should especially see to it that the press does not violate fundamental human rights. It would, he concluded, be the legalization of license, if the press were fred to subvert the r.eligious and moral foundations of the people. On December 30, 1959 (pp. 57-59), the Holy Father sent a written message to a meeting at Utrecht of the International Office of Catholic Education; the meeting had been called to commemorate the thirtieth anniversary of Pius XI's encyclical on education, Divini illius Magistri. The encyclical, the Pope told the group, has lost none of its truth; today as then the Church still declares the rights of herself and of the family in regard to education to be anterior to those of the state in the same matter. He also mentioned that since at the present moment national and international authorities are anxious about the intellectual and moral elevation of the human race, it is now more important than ever to have active members of the Church who are ready to explain and defend 235 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious the Church's point of view. They should also strive to adapt the principles of the encyclical to the new situations that have arisen since its publica-tion; and on the personal level they should strive to become the profes-sional and moral elite which the world and the Church need. Miscellaneous Documents On December 18, 1959 (pp. 166-69), the Sacred Congregation of Rites officially affirmed the heroicity of the virtues of the Servant of God, Elizabeth Ann Seton (1774-1821). On February 17,' 1960 (pp. 91-94), the Pope delivered an allocution at the solemn obsequies h~ld for Cardinal Stepinac in St. Peter's, telling the congregation that the deceased cardinal gave a modern example of Christ's words that a true pastor gives his life for his flock. By the Apostolic Letter, Maiora in dies, dated December 8, 1959 (pp. 24-26), the International Marian Academy was made a Pontifical Academy. On February 17, 1960 (pp. 152-58), the Pope delivered an allocution to the faculty and student body of the Pontifical Biblical Institute on the fiftieth anniversary of its foundation. After recalling the Institute's work and success during the last fifty years, he told the Institute to look forward to the future. He urged them to a life of scientific serious-ness which would employ all modern means of investigation and work and which would have the courage to face the problems aroused by recent research and discoveries. Their work, however, should also be characterized by prudence and sobriety, so that they do not propose as definitive that which is only a working hypothesis. He pointed out to the Institute and its members that their work was not merely to form Biblical specialists, but also men who are filled with sacredotal zeal and who brave the souls of prophets and apostles. The work of the Institute, therefore, is a truly priestly work. In all their work they must also have an absolute fidelity to the deposit of faith and to the teaching authority of the Church. Finally in their efforts to understand the pages of Scripture," they must recall the advice of St. Augustine: "Pray in order that you may understand." On December 6, 1959 (pp. 51-52), the Pontiff broadcast a message to the faithful of the Philippines at the beginning of their national mission year. On December 13, 1959 (pp. 52-53), the Pope sent a radio message to the people of Ecuador on the occasion of their presentation of a crown to a statue of our Lady of the Rosary. On January 1, 1960 (pp. 98-100), he sent a written message to the people of Nicaragua on the occasion of the nation's consecration to the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary. On January 22, 1960 (pp. 90-91), John XXIII addressed an allocution to Konrad Adenauer, Chancellor of Germany, and on February 22, 1960 (pp. 95-96), to President Manuel Prado of Peru. Under the date of December 22, 1959 (pp. 61-62), the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary issued the text of a prayer composed by the Pope to be recited by members of newly-founded churches. Faithful of such churches can gain an indulgence of three years each time they recite the prayer devoutly and with contrite heart. Moreover once a month they 236 July, 1960 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS may gain a plenary indulgence under the usual conditions provided they have recited the prayer daily for a month. 0n.December 14, 1959 (p. 105), the Sacred Consistorial Congregation named Cardinal Caggiano, archbishop of Buenos Aires, as military vicar of Argentina. A decree of the same congregation dated December 29, 1959 (pp. 164-65), provided for the continuation of ecclesiastical jurisdiction in the military vicariate of Colombia when the office of military vicar becomes vacant; it also assigned the proper tribunals for ecclesiastical cases of the same military vicariate. In a decree of January 5, 1960 (p. 60), the Sacred Congregation of the Holy Office placed the follow-ing anonymous volumes on the Index: Il Poema di Gesu and Il Poema dell'UomooDio (Isola del Liri: Tipografia M. Pisani). Views, News, Previews Institute Jesus Magister Brother Cecilius, S.C., who is presently stationed in Rome at the Generalate of the Brothers of the Sacred Heart, has sent the REVIEW information concerning the Institute Jesus Magister (Jesus the Teacher). The Institute, .which is now an integral part of the Lateran University, was founded by Pins XII with the purpose of providing for the intellec-tual, cultural, and religious development of teaching brothers. The foundation of' the Institute was announced in the summer of 1957; in the fall of the same year the Institute held its first academic courses°. Accordingly the academic year 1959-1960 was only the third in the history of the Institute. The president of the Institute is the rector of the Lateran" Univer-sity, who at present is Msgr. Antonio Piolanti. The vice-president and director of Jesus Magister is BrotKer Anselmo, F,S.C. The faculty for the academic year 1959-1960 was composed of twenty-six professors, nine of whom were diocesan priests, eleven were .religious 'priests, and six were brothers. During the same year ninety-five brothers attended the Institute. The brothers in attendance came from twenty-three countries and from nine different religious institutes as the following tables show: 237 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS Review for Religious Countries Represented Among the Students of Jesus Magister Number of Number of Country Students Country Students Canada 13 Mexico 3 U.S.A. 11 Chile 2 Spain 10 Nicaragua 2 Italy 9 Peru 2 Brasil 8 Ruanda 2 Australia 5 Cuba 1 France 5 Ecuador 1 Eire 5 Malay 1 Argentina 4 Portugal 1 England 4 South Africa 1 Colombia 3 Venezuela 1 Vietnam 1 Religious Institutes Among Students of Jesus Magister Institute Number of Students Brothers of Christian Schools 38 Marist Brothers 26 (Irish) Christian Brothers 11 Brothers of the Sacred Heart 7 Brothers of Mary (Marianists) 4 Brothers of Christian Instruction (Ploemel) 3 Xaverian Brothers 2 Brothers of Christian Instruction of St. Gabriel 2 Josephite Brothers of Ruanda 2 From the tables it can be seen that besides the intellectual development imparted to them by the Institute, the brothers also profit by contact with fellow brothers of other countries and institutes. At the present time the. Institute offers a four-year course. The first year of the course is chiefly devoted to Thomistic philosophy and fundamental theology; the last three years are concerned principally with dogmatic and moral theology, Sacred Scripture, ecclesiastical history, and catechetics. The courses are presently given in both English and French; other languages will be added as the need arises. At the end of two years of the course, the students are made bachelors in re-ligious sciences; and at the successful completion of the entire four-year program they are given a licentiate in religious sciences. There i~ a possibility that, as the Institute grows, an additional program leading to a doctorate in religious sciences will be added. Brothers interested in studying at the Institute must have a degree which permits them to enter a graduate faculty or a university of their own country. Moreover they are expected to have a sufficient reading knowledge of Latin to be able to handle the texts necessary for their 238 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS studies in the Institute; such texts, for example, would be the Vulgate, the works of St. Thomas, and the code of canon law. The candidate must also make a written application for admission into the Institute; with the application he must include a birth and a baptismal certificate, copies of degrees held, written authorization of his major superior, and two photographs (passport size). Auditors, that is, students not studying for a degree, are also admitted with the permission of their superiors. Finally laymen who are engaged in teaching religion on the primary or secondary level are admitted, provided they 'have the necessary quali-fications for the Institute's program. Persons interested in the Institute can obtain more information about it by writing: Ill.mus Fr. Anselmo Balocco, F.SoC. Instituto Jesus Magister Pontificia Universith Laterano Piazza S. Giovanni in Laterano, 4 Rome, Italy Christ to the World Founded three years ago, this "International Review of Apostolic Experiences" has spread to 125.countries and is contributing in a very efficacious way to the work of the apostolate among unbelievers. The aim of the review is to promote the apostolate in pagan and dechris-tianized environments by pooling apostolic experiences and making known the most fruitful apostolic efforts undertaken throughout the world. In presenting these experiences, the review stresses the method followed, the means used, the difficulties encountered and how they were overcome, the results obtained and the lessons drawn from the experience which will prevent future repetitions of the same mistakes. A sample copy of an issue dealing with the problems one indicates interest in will be sent on request by Reverend L. P. Bourassa, Circulation Manager, Christ to the World, Lungotevere dei Vallati, 1, Roma. Brothers' Newsletter: Menus and Recipes The Brothers' Newsletter reported in its November issue that Brother Herman Zaccarelli, C.S.C., has published a book on menu-planning and recipes for Catholic institutions. This is the first book ever to be written taking into account the specialized food problems of the vow of poverty, feasts, and fasts of the Church year. In the summer of 1960, Brother plans to direct the first school of culinary arts for religious at Stonehill College, North Easton, Massachusetts. He hopes to build this summer course up to a regular three-year program. For his work on the book, Brother received grants from several food com-panies serving Catholic institutions. 239 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religion,s The interesting facts and events relating to the life and training of brothers which the Newsletter contains are available without subscrip-tion fee. Write to Brother William Haas, S.J., West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana, or to Brother Walter, S.V.D., Divine Word Seminary, Techny, Illinois. )uestions ond Answers [The following answers are given by Father Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., pro-fessor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland.] 24. I was teaching a summer course to sisters from several congregations. Canonical questions on the religious life occasionally arose. One sister told me that her constitutions state that a parish convent cannot be a canonically erected religious house because at the commencement of the scholastic year the community of such a house may be composed of new members. Another sister stated that in her congregation all houses of less than four sisters are filial houses, those of four or more are canon-ically erected houses. Difficulties on obedience, according to this sister, arise in filial houses because of the fact that the one at the head of a filial house is not a real superior. To avoid this, higher superiors strive to have all houses canonically erected; and they believe that this is accomplished by the mere fact of assigning at least four religious to a house. They also believe that the'sole fact of assigning three or less sisters to a house makes it filial. My reply to both sisters was in the negative. Was I correct? A canonically erected religious house, because it is a moral person, can cease only by suppression or extinction. A moral person in the Church is of its nature perpetual. If only one member remains in it, all rights of the moral person devolve on him. A moral person and therefore a religious house becomes extinct only when it has ceased to exist, that is, has had no members, for a hundred years (c. 102)'. As a collegiate moral person, a canonically erected house must consist of at least three religious at the time of its erection. Since a moral person is of its nature perpetual, it is evident that the continued existence of a religious house does not depend on the permanent residence. 5f the religious who originally constituted the community. These may constantly change, as they do in other moral persons, for example, an institute or province. The same juridical perpetuity proves that a religious house continues to exist as such if the number of religious assigned to it after its erection becomes less than three. The superior of such a reduced religious house remains a superior in the proper sense of the word, Since he is a superior of a canonically erected house. A higher superior cannot change a canonically erected house into a filial house merely by assigning less religious to it (cf. Larraona, Commentarium Pro Religiosis, 3 [1922], 48, note 176). This 240 July, 1960 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS change demands an extinction or the formalities of a suppression and the permission to open a filial house. Neither may he change a filial house into a canonically erected house merely by assigning more religious to it. This change requires the formalities for the canonical erection of a house. Goyeneche (Quaestiones Canonicae, I, 115) anal Jone (Com-mentarium in Codicem Iuris Canonici, I, 404) deny that such formalities are necessary in this case. They maintain that the change of a filial into a canonically erected house is a mere internal change and conse-quently demands no permission of external authority (cf. Question .17). But such a change certainly and evidently implies the erection 5f a moral person. Canon 497 does not grant the right of erecting a moral person, solely on their own authority, to the superiors of any religious institute. The law on internal and external changes presupposes an existing moral person and its purpose is to determine whether the change has so altered this existing moral person as to make it a different moral person. In the opinion of Goyeneche and Jone, an exempt in-stitute could open a filial house with th.e permission of only the local ordinary; and then, merely at the will of its superiors, with no further permission of the ordinary and no permission whatever of the Holy See, could canonically erect an exempt religious house. But canon 497, § 1, demands the permission of the Holy See for the canonical erection of any exempt religious house. A house becomes a new moral person when it undergoes a formal external change (Question 18) or is moved to such a distance (Question 19) that the formalities of a new erection are necessary and are obtained. It need not be mentioned that religious owe the same reverence and submission to delegated as to ordinary authority. The ultimate source of the authority is the same and the motive of religious obedience is the same in both cases. 25. If we are able to suppress the religious house mentioned in Question 23, to whom does the property of the suppressed house belong? Unless the particular constitutions contain a different enactment, the property of a suppressed or extinct house appertains to the im-mediately higher moral person, that is, to the province or, if there are no provinces, to the institute (c. 1501). The property of a sup-pressed or extinct separated establishment already appertains to the house to which it is attached. All obligations of justice, all rights ac-quired by others, and the intentions of founders and donors are to be respected and observed. 26. Are parish school convents of sisters in fact ~anonically erected or merely filial houses? It is presupposed that the house had the antecedent requisites for a canoncially erected house at the time of its erection (cf. Question 3). If so, such convents are canonically erected religious houses unless the 241 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religious explicit or implicit intention of the local ordinary in particular cases was merely for a filial house (cf. Questions 11-13). This follows from the fact that such convents are only exceptionally filial houses. Parish convents are termed houses in approved constitutions equally with other canonically erected houses, for example, academies, colleges, and hospitals. Their superiors are in the same way superiors in the proper sense of this word, and not mere delegates of a higher superior or another local superior. Their superiors are held to the limit of the three-year term and to two such consecutive terms in the samehouse (c. 505). These same superiors are also equally ex officio members of the provincial or general chapter. Parish convents have their own councilors and bursar or treasurer, and these are proper to canonically erected houses (c. 516, §§ 1-2; cf. Question 6). Furthermore, some constitutions make this general sense clear by stating that only the smaller houses of two or three sisters are to be filial houses (cf. Question 6). It is true that a moral person, by the positive law of the Church, should be perpetual (c. 102, § 1); but the sense is that it may not be erected for a definite time, for example, five years. It is perpetual in the sense of the law when it is erected for an indefinite time (cf. Michiels, Principia Gen-eralia de Personis in Ecclesia, 535). The particular constitutions may add requisites for a canonically erected house. If so, the petitioning of the consent for the establishment of houses is made according to such norms and the houses are canonically erected or filial according to the same norms. 27. What do you think of the enactment of our constitutions that the portress should every night carry the keys of the convent to the superioress? This enactment was contained in article 319 of the Normae of 1901, on which the constitutions of practically all lay congregations are based. However, it was not repeated in the similar norms of the Sacred Con-gregation of the Propagation of the .Faith of 1940, nor is it by any means contained in all constitutions. In some convents, the superior would be the nocturnal custodian of a sufficient number of keys. The efficiency and practicality of this practice are at once questionable. Its necessity is equally doubtful. I personally have never heard of any alarming number of attempts to break into convents at night. The doors should be securely locked at night, but it is not the custom in the United States to use locks that can be operated only by a key from inside. We may also question whether this type of lock is more secure, and a door is not the only means of entrance favored by burglars. The principal objection against the practice is the danger of fire and the fire regulations. To repeat what we have already stated on two occasions: "All doors used in connection with exits shall be so arranged as to be always readily opened from the side from which egress is made. Locks, if provided, shall not require a key to operate from the inside. Latches or other re-leasing devices to open doors shall be of simple types, the method of 242 July, 1960 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS operation of which is obvious even in darkness" (REVIEW FOR RE-LIGIOUS, 15 [1956], 284-85; 18 [1959], 165). It seems evident that all doors leading to the outside should be capable of being used as exits in case of fire; and an exit door locked from the inside, with the key in the superior's room, is a fire hazard of the first order. II. Local Superiors 28. Is a minimum age prescribed for local superiors? Every canonically erected religious house must have a local superior in the proper sense of this term. The prescriptions of canon 505 on the term of office and reappointment affect only minor local superiors. A minor local super

Issue 19.1 of the Review for Religious, 1960. ; Review For Religious Volume 19 1960 Editorial O[[ice ST. h~ARY'S COLLEGE St. Marys, Kansas Publisher TIlE QUEEN'S WORK St. Louis, Missouri EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. Henry Willmering, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS John E. Becker, S.J. Robert F. Weiss, S.J. DEPARTMENTAL EDITORS Questions and Answen Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Woodstock College Woodstock, Maryland Book Reviews Earl A. Weis, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana Published in January, March, May, July, September, November on Ihe fifleenlh of Ihe monlh. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is Indexed in Ihe CATHOLIC PERIODICAL INDEX. Act of "Dedication of the Human Race to Christ the King Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary IOn July 18, 1959 (Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 51 11959~, 595-96), the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary issued a new text of the act of dedication of the human race to the Heart of Christ the King. The text has been revised according to the directives of John XXIII who has also accorded a number of indulgences to the revised prayer. The following is a translation of the new text of the prayer together with the indulgences granted for its recital.I SWEET JESUS, Redeemer of the human race, look do~vn upon us humbly kneeling before Your altar.~ We are Yours and Yours we wish to be; but in order to be still more firmly united to You, today each one of us freely dedicates himself to Your most Sacred Heart. There are many indeed who have never known You; many others have rejected Your commandments and have repudiated You. Be merciful to all of them, 0 kind Jesus, and draw them all to Your holy Heart. Be king, 0 Lord, not only of the faithful who have never abandoned You, but also of the prodigal children who have left You; bring them back quickly to their Father's house lest they die of misery and hunger. Be king of those who have been deceived by erroneous ideas or have been separated by discord; bring them back to the harbor of truth and to the unity of faith so that soon there may be a single fold and a single shepherd. Bestow upon Your Church, 0 Lord, security, liberty, and safety; give to all nations the tranquillity of order; and grant that from one pole of the earth to the other there may ring out the cry: Praise to the divine Heart which brought forth our salvation; to It be glory and honor forever. Amen. July 18, 1959 His Holiness, John XXIII, after abrogating the prayer as given in the Enchiridion Indulgentiarum [Manual of Indulgences], 1952, n. 271, graciously granted the following indulgences: 1) A partial indulgence of five years to the faithful who devoutly recite the above act of dedication with contrite heart. 2) A plenary in- 1When the prayer is recited outside a church or oratory, "in Your presence" should be said instead of "before Your altar." ACT OF DEDICATION dulgence once a month, if they have recited the prayer devoutly every day for a whole month, provided they go to confession, receive Communion, and make a visit to a church or a public oratory. 3) The faithful may gain a partial indulgence of seven years if on the Feast of Christ the King they are present in any church or oratory, even a semi-public one (in the case of those legitimately attending it), when the act of dedication tn the Sacred Heart of Jesus according to the formula given above and the Litanies of the Sacred Heart are recited before the Blessed Sacrament solemnly exposed; moreover, they may gain a plenary indulgence if, besides fulfilling the above conditions, they have gone to confession and Communion. All contrary provisions not withstanding. N. Card. CANALI, Major Penitentiary L. ~I, S. I. Rossi, Secretary Living /aters Frederick Power, $. J. pius XII in his encyclical Haurietis aquas on devotion to the Sacred Heart urges us to"-study diligently the teachings of Scripture, the fathers, and the theologians--the solid founda-tions on which devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus rests." For the Holy Father is "firmly convinced that we can rightly and fully appreciate the incomparable excellence and inexhaustible store of heavenly gifts of this devotion only when we study its nature in the light of divinely revealed truth." The encyclical itself begins with a text from Isaiah: "You shall draw waters with joy out of the Saviour's fountains" (Is 12:3). A few lines further on the Holy Father returns to the idea of the "Saviour's fountains" when he refers to the scene in the Temple at Jerusalem on the Feast of Tabernacles as recorded in John's Gospel, Chapter 7:37-39. The words of our Lord on this occasion are numbered among the principal te~ts which establish the biblical foundation of the devotion. A closer study of this text will be most rewarding and will reveal the appropriateness of the text as the general theme of the encyclical. When the Feast of Tabernacles was at hand, our Lord had declined to go to Jerusalem with His relatives but afterwards went up by Himself "not publicly but as it were privately." The Feast of Tabernacles was held towards the end of Sepo tember after the grain harvest and the vintage and the gathering of the autumn fruit crop. Originally an agricultural festival in-stituted to give thanks to God for the fruitfulness of the soil, it later included the commemoration of the forty years spent by the Hebrews in the desert. In memory of the latter event all Jews of free status except the sick, women, and children lived for the week in huts made from the leafy branches of trees. These huts reminded them of the tents or tabernacles pitched in the wilder-ness of Sinai, a period kept ever fresh in their minds as one in which God gave them the great gifts of the manna and of the water from the rock. The desert ever afterwards remained in Jewish tradition as the place of God's protective presence. Two elaborate ceremonies added to the gaiety of the feast: the procession to the fountain of Siloe and the torch-light illumi-nation of the Women's Court. It is the first of these ceremonies that is of interest for the present article. FREDERICK POWER Review for Religious Each morning the multitude organized into a procession. The people lined the route leading to thepool of Siloe and crowded into the Temple and the surrounding courtyards and porches. Then a procession of priests and Levites descended the valley as far as the pool of Si|oe. Those assisting at the ceremony held a citron fruit in the left hand and in the right a palm branch twined with shoots of myrtle and green willow. The Levites chanted the group of festive psalms called the great Hallel; and the multitude, keep-ing time with the refrain, vigorously waved the fruit and palm branch in token of joyfulness and triumph. The officiating priest carried a golden ewer, and at the pool of Siloe he filled it with water to carry back to the altar of holo-causts. This liturgical act was both a commemorative symbol and a dramatized hope. It recalled the miraculous water that gushed forth from the rock of Horeb beneath the rod of Moses, and it was a figure of the outpouring of graces proper to Messianic times. As the celebrant drew the water of Siloe, the choir repeated the verse of Isaiah: "You shall draw water with joy out of the Saviour's fountains" [12:3), a verse which refers to the blessings promised for the days of the Messiah. This symbol of a spring bursting forth and of water flowing from a fountain was well known to those present, for it is one of the most frequent in the Bible; and in a land afflicted by drought and water scarcity, it was a readily understood symbol of divine blessings. Accordingly, the miraculous event in the desert, when Moses struck the rock with his rod and water gushed forth, was remembered with gratitude in the people's liturgical ceremonies. Moses himself had prayed before the Ark of the Covenant: "O Lord God, hear the cry of this people and open to them thy treasures, a fountain of living water, that being satisfied they may cease to murmur" (Num 20:6). In this text and elsewhere in Scripture "living water" is water flowing from a spring as opposed to the stagnant water of cisterns. It was this symbol of living waters that the prophets used to signify divine blessings. Jeremiah even calls God the fountain of living waters: "For my people have done two evils. They have forsaken me, the fountain of living waters, and have digged to themselves cisterns, broken cisterns that can hold no water" (Jer 2:13). In the last part of the book of Ezekiel, the prophet describes the vision of the holy waters issuing from all sides of the Temple. The desert through which they flow becomes extremely fertile; the trees on their banks have healing power and bear fresh fruit January, 1960 LIVING WATERS monthly. Such is the virtue and dynamism of Yahweh's holy presence in the Temple that it radiates0grace and blessings over the land. Zechariah, too., in speakingof the time of the Messiah, remarks: "In that day there shall be a fountain open to the house of David and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem" (Zech 13:1). The prophets, then, looked on water poured out upon parched land as an image of the new spirit that was to be characteristic of the time of salvation. In .the words of Isaiah: "I will pour out waters upon the thirsty ground, and streams upon the dry land; I will pour out my spirit upon thy seed, and blessing upon thy stock" (Is 44:3). In these texts we see some examples of how the blessings of God and the future blessings of the Messianic era are portrayed under the symbol of living waters, and the passages provide some introduction to the scene in Jerusalem on the last day of the Feast of Tabernacles. After the drawing of the water the procession wended its way up the slope from the pool of Siloe, the officiating priest carry-ing the golden pitcher of water, the Levites chanting psalms, and the crowd singing the refrain. As the procession approached the temple, the people became more enthusiastic, shouting out their response of Hallelu-Yah--Praise Yahweh--with ever greater vehe-mence. It wasin this way that they manifested their deep-felt conviction that Yahweh was their own God who had brought them out of the land of Egypt and had led them safely through the desert. The procession went up to the altar of holocausts just at the moment when the parts of the victim immolated that day were being placed upon it. The priest was greeted by the sacred trumpets and was met at the altar by another priest carrying the wine for the libations. While the people continued their enthusiastic shout-ing, the two pitchers were emptied into conduits that led to the foot of the altar. By this libation it was intended to thank God for the two occasions when He made water flow from a rock to satisfy the thirst of His people in the wilderness. By the same rite the attention of the people was directed to the Messianic promise of living waters and also to the expectation of the fulfillment of the promise which was symbolically signified. For the people were expecting a Messiah who would bring salvation and who was to be another Moses. When the liturgical rite was finished and the singing ended, a silence descended over the throng. Our Lord, who had been 7 FREDERICK POWER Rewew for Rehgmus present among the crowd, now took advantage of this opportunity to reveal His true mission. Mounting a step he cried out to the Jewish people: "If anyone thirst, let him come to me and drink; he who believes in me, as the Scripture says, 'From his heart there shall flow rivers of living water.' " By these words He revealed Himself as the one in whom all the abundant graces of the Messianic period are to be found, the object of the Messianic expectation, the Messiah himself. He is the rock from which the water of life flows; indeed, He is the fountain itself. He is the spring from which anyone who thirsts may quench his thirst. The effect of faith in Him would be the reception and communication of living water. This text requires the explanation of two important points. First, the text as a whole has been interpreted in two ways: that the fountain of living water flows from the one who believes in Christ, or that the fountain flows from Christ, the one in whom we believe. The Holy Father understands the text in the second way in his encyclical; this use, without doubt, holds the richest and profoundest sense, one more in agreement with the Old Testament prophecies given above. It is also more in agreement with the theology of St. John. Secondly, an explanation must be given for the use of the word heart in the text. The Latin edition of the encyclical follows the Vulgate version of the text, the literal translation of which would be: "Out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water." The Latin phrase used is de ventre eius, which literally means "out of his belly." This translation would also be a literal trans-lation of the Greek and Aramaic versions of the text. The trans-lation, however, would not be a correct interpretation of the idea intended. Those who are experts in the Aramaic language agree that for the Hebrews the viscera or the belly was regarded as the seat of the emotions in the same way as we regard the heart. Accordingly a proper translation of the phrase used by our Lord would be "from his heart." Such a translation, though not a literal one, is the proper way to express the idea in terms we understand today. It is what our Lord meant, though He expressed it in the idiom of His own day. It is with this understanding that authorities place this text among the fundamental texts of Scrip-ture regarding devotion to the Sacred Heart. On this occasion of our Lord's revelation of His Sacred Heart, He appeals to Scripture as being fulfilled in His person. He does not refer to one particular text but rather to that whole class of January, 1960 LIVING WATER~ texts from the Old Testament which we considered earlier. The people who heard these ~o.~s could take only one meaning: The man before them was definitely claiming the fulfillment of these prophecies in Himself; He was claiming it and at the same time promising untold blessings to those who would recognize this claim. Certainly St. John is impressed by the words, for he pauses to comment upon them. He tells us that they were prophetic and that they were fulfilled in the final glory of our Lord whicb, for ~John, is our Lord's passion, death, and subsequent transfiguration: "He said this, however, of the Spirit whom they who believed in~ Him were to receive; for the Spirit had not yet been given, seeing that Jesus had not yet been glorified" (Jn 7:39). The Spirit here means the Holy Spirit and includes the abundance of Mes-sianic goods and the gifts of redemption which the Holy Spirit brings to those who believe in Christ. But before the living water would flow, Christ had to be glorified; this was a condition that had yet to be fulfilled. That our Lord's glory was concerned with His passion is seen in His priestly prayer after the Last Supper: "Father, the hour has come! Glorify thy Son, that thy Son may glorify thee, even as thou has given him power over all flesh, in order that to all ,that thou hast given him he may give everlasting life" (Jn 17:2). By sacrificing Himself the Redeemer would cause the Spirit to flow and to open up the "fountain of living water." And this would happen when at the death of the Messiah His Heart would be pierced ~with a lance. The life-giving power of the living waters would find its source in the Blood of Christ as it gushed forth from the wounded Heart of Christ. It is, however, necessary to make here some distinctions between the piercing of Christ's side and the pouring forth of the Holy Spirit. The piercing is not of the same nature as the visible mission of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost. Nevertheless there is an ancient tradition, attested to among others by St. Augustine, that the Church was born from the pierced side of Christ. As Eve was taken from the side of the sleeping Adam, so also the Spouse of Christ, the Church, sprang from the pierced side of the dead Christ, the new Adam in His sleep of death being the source of the new Eve, the Church. And this Church is the Mystical Body of Christ whose soul is the Holy Spirit. FREDERICK POWER Review for Religious That the living waters promised to those who believe in Christ spring from the pierced side of the dead Saviour is also attested to by the common interpretation that for John the water and blood are signs of the sacraments of Baptism and the Holy Eucharist. In his encyclical Plus XII puts it this way: "From this wounded Heart the grace of the sacraments, from which the children of the Church draw supernatural life, flowed most pro-fusely . " And the Holy Spirit is included in the sacrament of Baptism, for the new birth to be effected by Baptism is brought about by "water and the Spirit" as our Lord told Nic~demus. So it is that the prediction of John in Chapter 7 concerning the flowing rivers to come after Christ's glorification was fulfilled when on the cross a soldier "opened his side with a lance, and immediately there came out blood and water" (Jn 19:34). The streams of blood and water are certain signs that now have been fulfilled the Scriptural prophecies of Messianic grace. Now the living water has begun to flow; now the Spirit is given, but only in blood; grace is given but only from the pierced Heart on the cross. Unless the spiritual rock that is Christ had been struck, the waters would nol~ have ~ome forth. And John in his Gospel insists that this incident of the soldier declining to break our Lord's legs and instead opening His side was a momentous event. He emphasizes his own role as an eye-witness of the event: "And he who saw it has borne witness, and his witness is true: and he knows that he tells the truth, that you also may believe" (Jn 19:35). And he puts further emphasis on the event by telling us that by it two prophecies were fulfilled: "Not a bone of him shall you break," and "They shall look upon. him whom they have pierced." The first of these prophecies speaks of the paschal lamb. Now in the concluding events of the passion of Christ it is fully revealed that Christ is the true Lamb of God; accordingly none of His bones were broken. This symbol of the Lamb recalls the mag-nificent theology of the Apocalypse concerning the "Lamb who was slain" (Apoc 5:12). In the Lamb we see the Old Testament prophecies of the Messiah who suffers 'and is glorified in His sufferings: "The Lamb . . . is the Lord of Lords and the King of Kings" (Apoc 17:14). The redeemed are the "bride, the spouse of the Lamb" (Apoc 21:9). In the blood of this Lamb the faithful are able to be cleansed--to be filled with the living waters of the Spirit. And from the fact that the rivers flow forth from the 10 January, 1960 LIVING WATERS wounded Heart of the Lamb, we are led to those passages in the Apocalypse which depict the fulfillment of the prophecies of Isaiah and Ezekiel: "For the Lamb who is in the midst of the throne will shepherd them, and will guide them to the fountains of the waters of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes" (Apoc 7:17); ". he showed me a river of the water of life, clear as crystal, coming forth from the throne of God and of the Lamb" (Apoc 22:1). Thus the act of redemption is enshrined, as it were, in a celestial garden and the redeemed are forever made joyous at the Saviour's fountains. The second prophecy, which is concerned with the piercing of our Lord's side, is from Zechariah: "And I will pour out upon the house of David and upon Jerusalem the spirit of grace and of prayers: and they shall look upon me whom they have pierced and they shall mourn for him as one mourneth for an only son" (Zech 12:10). In this passage God speaks about Himself. As man, He will be the first-born, one for whom they mourn and weep and at whom they gaze although they have pierced Him. God Himself in His human nature brings about the redemption and is the one who gives the living water of the Spirit. He pours forth the Spirit at the moment when the lance opens His Heart. At that moment the Spirit begins to flow and the Messianic work will be prolonged to the end of time when Jesus will come again in glory. In the words of the Apocalypse: "Behold, he comes with the clouds, and every eye shall see him, and they also who pierced him" (Apoc 1:7). Our Lord, then, standing above the throng gathered for the Feast of the Tabernacles, revealed Himself as the long awaited Messiah, the rock of salvation, the fountainhead of all the bless-ings of the Messianic times. For the most part, He was not ac-cepted. A few believed in Him, so John tells us, but only a few. For He is the "stone which the builders rejected." But He is also the rock which will be struck anew for the salvation of the newly chosen people. He will give of His sub-stance to give birth to the new people that He will acquire for Himself. From His pierced side will spring the fountain of eternal life, the rivers of living waters, the Spirit of love, the Church, the new Jerusalem, Baptism and the other sacraments, all the graces of the "last days." The Litany of the Sacred Heart sums it all up in the invocation: "Heart of Jesus, fountain of life and holiness." 11 A Catechism on Obedience of Judgment Paul W. O'Brien, S. J. QWhat are the necessary presuppositions for every act of obedience? A. That the superior has authority and that what he commands is not certainly sinful. Q. Could the superior sin while commanding something not sinful? A. Yes, through sinful motives, for example, envy, injustice, or serious imprudence. Q. What is the formal motive of obedience? A. Authority. Q. Is obedience an act of the will or intellect? A. Obedience of the will is an act of the will; obedience of judgment is formally an act of the intellect, but like faith, is commanded by the will. Q. What is obedience of judgment? A. The conforming of my judgment to the judgment of the superior-because he has authority. Q. To what judgment do I conform? A. Not necessarily to his theoretical (speculative)judgment, that is, something to believe, but to his practical judgment, that is, something to do. The Abbot John did not have to believe that the dry stick would grow into a tree; he had only to believe that God wanted him to water it (for His own mysterious reasons). Q. How would you express this practical judgment? A. Given the order of the superior, I must judge that this is what God wants done (that is, God sanctions with His authority the perhaps mistaken decision of my superior) and that it is best according to the ultimate mysterious plan of God (not necessarily best for the immediate purpose intended by the superior). Q. When I cannot agree with the speculative judgment of the superior and must carry out his practical judgment, how should I obey? A. Not just materially, by merely executing the order (and in such a way as to sabotage the project, emphasizing and dis- 12 O[~EDIENCE OF JUDGMENT playing the weakness of the order, proving the superior wrong); but loyally entering into his, views (without blinding myself to his error), covering up its weaknesses before the public, trying my best to make it succeed. Q. Should I judge the order of the superior to be the will of God because of the reasons of the superior? A. No, but only because he has authority. Q. Then obedience of judgment does not imply that I agree with the reasons of the superior? A. No, it does not imply this. Q. Is it possible to have perfect obedience of judgment and the firm assurance that the superior's order is the will of God for me, while still hesitating over the reasons of the superior? A. Yes. Obedience is specified by authority, not by reasons. Q. Will my obedience of judgment be more perfect in propor-tion as I bring myself into agreement with the reasons of the superior? A. No, though the desire to agree will indicate a more perfect disposition. Q. Then why try to make my reasons agree with the reasons of the superior? A. It helps remove the psychological obstacles to obedience of judgment and chiefly of execution. It is easier to act if humanly speaking I agree with the policy. It is the proper disposition in the face of God's representative. Q. Do I suspend my act of perfect obedience of judgment while I am trying to bring myself to agree with the reasons of the superior? A. No, no more than you suspend your act of faith while you study your catechism or theology. Q. When I have brought myself to agree with all the reasons of the superior, do I have more assurance of doing God's will? A. No. The security that comes from authority (in the line of faith) will always be sufficient and greater than that which comes from the weight of human reasons. (Actually both the superior and I may be agreeing in wrong reasons.) Q. What is "blind obedience"? A. Supposing the two presuppositions of all obedience, I blind myself to the qualities and reasons of my superior, that is, I exclude the consideration of these reasons and motivate my obedi-ence by authority alone. Q. What is the difference between obedience of judgment and 13 PAUL W. O'BRIEN blind obedience? A. There is no difference in the act of obedience. But while obedience of judgment merely states the fact, blind obedience connotes the approach: the exclusion of the consideration of the reasons. Q. Is blind obedience a help to obedience of judgment? A. Yes. It makes obedience of judgment easier and safer for though I could have perfect obedience of judgment while consider-ing, and even while rejecting the reasons, still it is much easier to by-pass these reasons and look simply to authority. Q. Is blind obedience always better? A. No. Even though easier and safer, it is often good and sometimes necessary to consider the reasons of the superior (even while excluding them from the motivation of obedience), for they may: (a) help me to profit by the experience of my elders, (b) enlighten me on the spirit of my community, (c) be necessary to relieve psychological blocks to action, (d) be necessary for the understanding of the mind of the superior in view of carrying out his order more intelligently. Q. What should be my attitude toward the reasons of the superior? A. I should be well-disposed towards them. They are given to help me. I should use them as far as they help. If they trouble me, I should prescind from them and practice blind obedience, But even while using them, I should keep them in second place and unite myself to God through authority. 14 The Theology of Religious Women Yves M.-J. Congar, 0. P. This article was a conference given July 10, 1958, to a convention of French priests charged with the care of religious women. It will ~ppear as a chapter in a book to be entitled Le r61e de la religieuse dans l'Eglise (Paris: Cerf, 1960), a volume in the series Probl~mes de la religieuse d'aujourdhui. The article was first printed in Suppldment de la Vie Spirituelle (1959), 316:42. The present translation is by John E. Becker, S.J. Basic Notions: The Church and the World THE WORLD was set on,its way reality by the creative act. Its story is humanity s quest atos, ,ba e fruitful and multiply; fill the earth and subdue it" (Gen 1:28). For all practical pur-poses, the world, the temporal, history, the drive to civilize are equivalent ideas; the reality they have in common is the effort of man to perfect himself by subjecting, for his advantage, the re-sources inherent in himself and in material creation. And this effort has a direction, a direction which is completely dependent on the facts of Adam's existence: he was at one and the same time both image of God and sinner. As Tennyson said very well, it is only at the end of this great adventure that one can say that man is complete. The Church is something other than this inherent movement of the world or of history even if, as is the case, she envelops it and Ultimately guarantees it. For she does not emerge out of the resources deposited within the first creation. She is placed in the realm of reality by a new initiative of God, properly supernatural, that is to say, an initiative in which God commits and gives Himself (this is the meaning of grace). She is an order of sanctity and sanctification positively instituted from above, a creation of the divine positive law issuing from the priestly, prophetic, and redemptive kingship of Christ. Still she has her existence and, as it were, her proper stability within human societies. Divine insti-tution that she is, she herself creates and shapes according to her needs and her spirit institutional forms proper to herself. On the other hand, the Church is not made to be an end in herself. She is made for God and for the world -- even for the world, to save it by the grace which God has given her to dispense: 15 YvEs M -J CONGAR Rewew for Rehgmus "In it [the faith of the Church] is contained union with Christ.''1 The Church is a new creation of God, and a supernatural one; but she has a mission in and for the world. This mission consists in two things: first, to convert men by making them disciples, that is to say by bringing them into herself, giving them in this way the regeneration of a second birth; and then to sanctify them by communicating to them the grace of the Lord, by forgiving their sins, and by teaching them to conform their lives to the holy and sanctifying will of God;2 second, to operate within temporal life itself in order that in accordance with God's plan it may be directed and oriented towards God to the fullest possible extent. The Church here reveals especially the healing power of grace which, by giv-ing back to nature her primitive orientation, conforms her to the will and to the image of God while at the same time restoring her t'o herself. The Church seeks, by all sorts of initiatives and under-takings, to remold the world according to the plan of God, which is neither the pursuit of self nor the pursuit of power nor egoistic hardness of heart, but on the contrary, service, brotherhood, justice, peace, communion, sharing, helping the poorest, combating all the degrading miseries of body and soul. This is why, from one end to the other of her history and growth, the Church has created ministries inspired by charity. Some of them, more involved with the work of the world and its battles, such as the fight for social justice, are more the role of the laymen within her whom she forms and inspires for this work. Others, more strictly pertinent to her spiritual nature and to her primary office of sanctification, can remain more properly eccle-siastical ministries; such is the case in particular with the corporal works of mercy or the spiritual works such as teaching. "As long as you did it for one of these, the least of my brethren, you did it for me" (Mt 25:40). Basic Notions: The Church in Herself One can consider the Church as the great sacrament of salva-tion and distinguish in her two aspects. She is both the reality of grace or sanctity and she is the means of grace or sanctification: reality and sacrament. Images for comparison are not lacking. However, as with every .image, they are very inadequate, and risk losing through excessive schematization what they gain in clarity. 1St. Ir~naeus, Adversus Haereses, III, 24, 1. ~Mt 28:19-20; Mk 16:15 ft.; Jn 3:3 ft.; 20:21 ff.; Col 1:13; etc. 16 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN For example, the Church as a holy reality may be considered to be. a tower or a temple; as a means of. sanctification, to have the instrumental power of a pick, a mining car, a windlass, a scaffold, and all of those things which are necessary ~to bring the rough stone from the mines to the finished building where each has its place and its proper finish (see the hymn for the dedication of a church). Does not St. Augustine distinguish the "society of the sacraments" and the "society of the saints," the former being ordered to the latter? Does he not also write: "The architect builds a permanent edifice with temporary machinery"?'~ To see in the Church the holiness already rooted in souls is not only to consider the depths of her life, it is to see in her that which will always be. "Charity never passes away" (1 Cor 13:8). To live through charity the life of holiness is really to live as a citizen of the eternal and heavenly City of God. In heaven, one might say, there will be nothing else but that. That city knows no hierarchy other than that of holiness or of love. The Virgin Mary is at its pinnacle. In the Church of this world she had neither a function nor a hierarchical dignity. It could readily be said of her that she was a member, the first member, of the laity if there were not the danger of belying by this way of speaking her per-fection as a consecrated member of the faithful. Mgr. Journet says well, following St. Thomas, that the Virgin Mary has per-fectly achieved the highest holiness, not the highest hierarchical dignity.~ She is-the type, or better, the perfect personification of the Church, but of the Church as final end, not as means. Mary is the "eschatological eikon of the Church.''~ That which in the Church is "sacrament" in the wide sense of the word -- instrument or means of grace -- is as such related to her as a wayfarer. This is true in the first place of her sacraments properly speaking, but also of her dogmatic formulas, of her organizations, and of her ecclesiastical hierarchy which has the care of all these matters. If it were necessary to point out a type or a personification of the Church here, it would not be the Virgin Mary but rather the Apostle Peter. But this would be to consider 3Sermo 362, 7 (Patrologia Latina, 39, 1615). 4St. Thomas, In I Sent., d. 16, q. 1, a. 2, ad 4; Summa Theologiae, 3, 27, 5, ad 3; Albert the Great, In IV Sent., d. 19, a. 7; Charles Journet, L'Eglise du Verbe incarnd, 2 (Paris, 1951), 422; 441; 456, note 2. ~This striking expression is from L. Bouyer, Le culte de la M~re de Dieu (Chevetogne, 1950), 33; Le trSne de la sagesse (Paris, 1957), 188. See also O. Semmelroth, Die Kirche als Ursakrament (Frankfort, 1951), 176-85. A beautifu] and rich meditation on the theme of Mary as perfect spiritual type of the Church is to be found in H. Rahner, Marie et ~'Eglise (Paris, 1955). 17 YvEs M.-J. CONGAR Review [or Religious only one part of the reality, to reduce the power of the Church as means of grace or of sanctification to "institutions" alone. But as a matter of fact the whole life of the Church in time is a means of grace tending to produce that interior fruit of holiness which will always remain. Still, if the distinction which we have proposed is valid -- it is a classical one -- it is very necessary to guard against pushing it to the point of separation or disjunction. The Church in the concrete, the existential Church on earth is at the same time both means of sanctification and sanctity. In terms of the image used above, we should say that she is at the same time the building and the construction works by which she is built; or, using another image, she is the ear of wheat, full of the grain of which the host will be made, and at the same time the root and stem necessary to bear and nourish the wheat until the harvest time. This is why in the Church holiness and means of sanctification interpenetrate. The sacraments are holy; but also the reality of the interior holiness of the members is a powerful means of leading other members and the whole body either to conversion or to greater holiness. There is a spiritual mothering of holiness, or, if holiness seems too broad, of the life of faith, of prayer, and of charity; and perhaps this mothering is too little studied, theoretically undervalued in the Church, even though it is extremely real, a factor of everyday life. We shall return to this point later. It would also be inexact to make a complete separation be-tween holiness and visibility. Holiness manifests itself. It is even a "note" of the Church, that is to say a mark which "notifies" and permits the true Church to be recognized. As instigator and end of all the visible works of the Church, terminus and interior direction of all the instrumentality of grace, intimate soul of all the historical life of the Church, holiness gathers all of these func-tions together to constitute that sign of the Kingdom of God which the Church must be for the world. During His earthly life, Jesus made men sensible of the approach of the Kingdom of God and unveiled something of its proper mystery by "signs" just as He opened up the ways of the Good News in parables. After the Ascension of the Lord, it is the Church which by the grace of Pentecost is the sign for the world. But the different manifesta-tions of her historical life are signs of the Kingdom of God, signs of the charity of Christ, only because they incorporate and radiate holiness. Otherwise they might be signs of power, of legal right, even of greatness; they would not be signs of the Kingdom of God 18 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN and of the charity of Christ. They would not draw the world to the faith. Basic Notions: Religious Life The Church is a body which is organic, organized, and.there-fore composed of different elements. She embraces the infinity of individual differences which are the foundation of the gifts, altogether interior ~and spiritual or exterior and public, of each one: what a variety among men, what a variety in the world of the saints! All this is the rainbow of grace. But there are also larger differences in the Church, delimited categories, groups charac-terized by a particular social structure, even constituted as such by law. These are those major differences of condition which affect Christian life in that profound and permanent as well as public and manifest way by reason of which one may speak of them as states. Christian antiquity and the Middle Ages used the expression orders for any group, and the encyc.lical Mystici corporis of June 29, 1943, reintroduced this idea into its broad theology of the Church as the Body of Christ. Once more it speaks, for example, of the "order of the laity.''~ The fathers spoke of the order of preachers or of prelates, the order of clerics, of monks, of virgins, of the continent, of widows, of deaconesses, of married people. If we consider only the most general divisions of states in the Church, we find ourselves faced with a double distinction, that between clerics and the laity, and another between seculars and regulars or religious (see below, note 50). If we recall what was said above about the Church, we will be able to relate the first distinction more to that ~aspect according to which the Church is means of sanctification, since this difference is between the simple members of the people of God and those members who are destined to exercise some sacred function and are endowed with powers appropriate to the prac.tical application of the means of grace. The second distinction pertains more to the aspect of the Church according to which she is a mystery of holiness; for the "state of perfection," even though it is a means of sanctification, is nor-mally an approach towards a more perfect life in Christ. In both cases, the state ~or particular ecclesiastical position of the cleric and of the regular is a deprivation of the greater liberty legiti-mately given those in the world in view of their conditio.n of life and .activity in the world; the purpose of this deprivation is the better service of God, whether this be more on the plane of per- SActa Apostolicae Sedis, 35 [1943), 200-01. 19 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious sonal spiritual life (religious life) or more on the plane of admin-istering the Church's means of sanctification (clerical, priestly state). It would be superfluous to spend time here defining religious life. Let us recall merely the simple and vigorous manner in which St. Thomas Aquinas characterized it in relation to the Christian life of the simple faithful.7 Each member of the faithful is com-mitted by his baptism, to renounce sin as well as Satan and his temptations. By religious profession, a Christian man or woman commits himself to renounce the world as the context of his life in order to belong more entirely, more definitively to God and to His work; for the world is an ambiguous milieu to live in; it is full of occasions of evil; it is engrossing, distracting, and filled with demands which hinder one from belonging to God completely and of temptations which turn one away from Him. This is why it is essential to the religious life, not only to detach oneself from the earthly and to consecrate oneself to God by vows, but through the rule to separate oneself from the conditions of life in the world. A point of view less individual and more ecclesiological might present the same realities in the following way.s The difference between religious and the simple faithful need not be viewed as a difference between the consecrated and the non-consecrated. This opposition exists, of course; but it should be located between the Church and the world, between the people of God and those who are not, between Christians and non-Christians (see 1 Pet 2:10). In the people of God as such, in the Body of Christ, all is sacred. The faithful are consecrated; their whole life as Christians, in so far as it is Christian, is sacred, not profane. All that religious can ambition is to be more consistently, more integrally Christian, and to embrace more perfect means toward this end." Laymen, or the ordinary faithful, live in the world. It is their precise charac-teristic to serve God in the way that is determined by their natural mission into the world.~° But the world is something other than 7Contra impugnantes religionem, c. 1. 8We employ here a suggestion of R. Carpentier, S.J. in his Life in the City o[ God: An Introduction to the Religious Life (New York, 1959). Compare the same author's "Les instituts s~culiers," Nouvelle Revue Thdologique, 77 (1955), 408-12, in particular, 409, 411. ~Since Dom G. Morin's L'iddal monastique et la vie chrdtienne des premiers jours (Maredsous, 1912), it is better known that religious life is merely the Christian life more fully expressed. 1°There is more and more agreement on this positive and theological definition of the lay state: Y. M.-J. Congar, "Qu'est-ce qu'un laic?" Suppld-ment de la Vie Spirituelle, 1950, 363-92; this article is the first chapter in the same author's Lay People in the Church Westminster, 1957). See also K. 2O January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN the Church. If the Church has its inner consistency and its proper demands, the world has too, Even prescinding from the ambiguity inherent in the enterprises of men and in the tendency toward sin which adheres to the tissue of the world, it is still necessary to render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's. For this reason even those laymen who seek only to love and serve God, whose personal lives are surrendered to God, and whose hearts are wholly intent upon Him find it difficult to exert themselves and to carve out their way in that world, a world which is not surrendered to God. "And he is divided" (1 Cor 7:33-34). The life of the Christian in the world is, unhappily, a divided one. The religious is the Christian who, in the desire to belong totally and irrevocably to God,~ leaves the world and enters a life built up and organized for the service of God, something which the world is not. The religious life in so far as it is a social frame-work for living is actually a creation of the Church for the pur-poses of the Church -- the service of God, Throughout the len.gth of her history.the Church has striven to achieve through religious life that which she tried to do as soon as she entered the world" by the grace of Pentecost; it was something that had been tried' be-fore her, for example in the monasticism of the Essenes on the shores of the Dead Sea. Her aim has been to constitute a way of life which responds perfectly, even as a social or juridical structure, to the communal and fraternal demands of the Gospel and which allows one to be at the exclusive service of God. In fact, through-out the whole history of the religious life one finds references back to the tentative attempt at communal living in the primitive Church at Jerusalem.~- Moreover, it is by expressl.y referring to Rahner, "L'apostolat des la~cs" in Nouvelle Revue Thdologique, 78 (1956), 3-32; a digest of this article may be found in Theology Digest, 5 (1957-58), 73-79. ~St. Thomas: "So that he may not turn back" (Summa Theologiae, 2-2, 186, 6, ad 1; see also Contra Gentiles, 3, 131). l~See Acts 2:44 and 4:32. Some references on this point are: F~r St. Pach-omius see L.Th. Lefort, Les vies coptes de saint Pach6me et de ses premiers successeurs [Louvain, 1943), 3, 30, and 65, 25; for St. Basil, see his Regulae brevius tractatae, int. 148, 187 (Patrologia Graeca, 31, 1180 and 1208) as well as his Regulae [usius tractatae, int. 7 (Patrologia Graeca, 31, 933); for St. Augustine see his En~arrationes in Psalmos, 132, 2 (Patrologia Latina, 37, 1729 ff.), his Sermo 355 and 356 De vita et moribus clericorurn suorum ( Patrologia Latina, 39, 1568 ff.), his De opere monachorum (C.S.E.L., 41, 529 ft.), his Regula (see below, note 21), and A. Zumkeller's Das M6nchtum des hl. Augus-tinus (Wiirzburg, 1950), 129 ft.; for St. Ambrose Autpert, see his In Cant. (Bibl. Max. Patrum, 13, 442); for St. Odo of Cluny, see his Occupatio 6 (Patrologia Latina, 133, 572) and J. Leclercq's "L'id~al monastique de saint Odon d'apr~s ses oeuvres," in A Cluny. Congrbs scientifique, 1949, 227 ff.; for St. Peter Damian, see his Opusculum 24, Contra clericos regulares proprietarios (Patrologia Latina, 145, 482-90). From the time of the reform 21 YvEs M.-J. CONGAR Review [or Religious this historical archetype that all reforms, all renewals of the religious life have been carried out. The "type" of Jerusalem, the City of Peace, the city "where all together make one body" (Ps 122:3), the place of God's habitation, has always been, for the various institutes of religious life, a kind of ideal, or "myth" in $orel's sense of the word. The religious life is a kind of earthly anticipation of the City of God. The chief forms of the religious life derive, even in those things which differentiate them, from the following principle com-mon to all: The religious life is a total consecration which is carridd out on the social level and publicly approved by the Church and which aims at the pursuit of the perfection of charity on the basis of a renouncement of that which hinders this totality, and this renouncement is made in such a way as to close to oneself the possibility of turning back. Within the bounds of this essential principle common to all, religious institutes differ from one another according to that pre-. eminent work of charity to which each one specifically devotes itself. A first overall distinction arises, for this reason, between institutes vowed to the service of the love of God alone, in Him-self, and immediately -- the contemplative life, monasticism, the eremetical life -- and institutes vowed to the service of the love of God in the exterior exercise of love and of service to the neigh-bor -- institutes specifically vowed to the works of mercy, corporal (hospitals), or spiritual (teaching), or the two together (the greater part of the missionary congregations).13 Contemplatives or monks also contribute to the salvation of the world, but only from above and in the context of the mystery of the Communion of Saints, from which comes in its secret forms that spiritual maternity which we have already mentioned and to which we shall return. From the point of view of effective activity they seem to leave the world to its damnation.Nevertheless, this is a historical fact: it is the monks who have made Christianity; of the llth and 12th centuries the references 'to Acts increase; see the studies of Ch. Dereine and others. See also J. Leclercq, La vie parfaite (Turnhout, 1948), 82-108. M.-D. Chenu, La thdologie au xii'~ si~cle (Paris, 1957), 227 ff. 13As is well known there exists a third category, that of the apostolic life, which is sometimes given the strange and little justified name of the "mixed life." In this life the superexcellent work of charity is identical with that of that agape which implies service, self-giving, apostolate, mission. It implies living in the light of faith and love to the extent of communicating them to others by means of the apostolate. But this apostolic life is almost exclusively reserved to men; and in its fullness it demands the priesthood of the Gospels. 22 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN monasticism has been --it is still, it will continue to be in the future -- preeminently the educator who teaches men not only what it is to be a Christian, but also what it is.to be human. In this way it has been the creator of much that is beautiful. It is impossible to accept grace without its showing its healing power, impossible to seek first the Kingdom of God without all these other things being added on besides (Mt 6:33; Lk 12:31). Religious devoted to the works of mercy enter into the torrent of the world to perform the work of rescue. They participate more strictly than the monks in that which in the Church is not only repose in God but also anxiety for and with men; they participate in the Church not only as a harbor of grace and the inn of the good Samaritan, but as an effective rescue service with the difficult commitment to heal the wounded on a road infested with robbers. In the duality of the Church and of the world, the monks represent essentially the distinction or opposition of the two. The Church is not of the world; and in her monks she says to it: "Do not touch me!" But the duality of the Church and of the world is not only distinction and opposition, it is also a kind of coupling; it implies a dialectical and dramatic point of contact. Not only do the Church and the world coexist in the time between Eden and the Kingdom, they exist in a certain way one with the other and one for the other. The world is, for the Church, not only~ the quarry from which she gets her stones, but also a necessary partner in a dialogue, or better, a sort of separated partner, who opposes and tests her, but with whom she must remain joined in order to try to save it. The Church is different from the world, she is grace and salvation. But in the interim between Easter and the second coming, which is her time of wayfaring and of labor, she is joined to the world as the good Samaritan was to his wounded stranger while he lifted him up and carried him, or as a lifeguard is joined to the drowning person whom he attempts to bring to the shore.~ Basic Notions: The Role of Woman in the Church One can scarcely speak of the laws of God's work, for he would thus risk giving the meaning that rules are imposed upon God extrinsically and as necessities. But one may speak of con-stants which the work itself reveals to us. And one of these constants seems to be procedure by pairs or complementary polarities. The study of tradition throughout Scripture, the fathers, and ancient ~On this point read G. Bernanos, La libertd, pourquoi faire? (Paris, 1953), 267-69; and see H. Urs yon Balthasar, Le chr~tien Bernanos (Paris, 1956), 217. 23 YVES M~-J. CONGAR Review for Religious texts and records, has convinced us more and more that this idea has played a very great role in Christian thought and institutions.~5 Among these unified dualities or complementary polarities, the first is without doubt the division of humanity into man and woman. It reappears in the Church, with the reservation that will be noted later. It is the reason that today's relatively numerous studies of "the second sex" have their counterparts, frequently stimulating ones, in Christian publications which attempt to de-termine the particular role and assets of women and hence of religious women in the Church.~ This role and these assets are connected with these larger values: a) Woman stands for receiving, welcoming, consenting; she is the "spiritual vessel." To speak of passivity would be not quite exact; receptivity is vital and active. Recall the "fiat" of the Virgin Mary, the prototype of acceptance and of the faithfulness of the Church before the God who comes, calls, asks. b) It is also said of the Virgin that "she kept all things in her heart." Man has the initiative in producing life. Woman creates for it a milieu that is intimate and warm, a home. In the home she embodies that humble faithfulness which conserves, waits, wel-comes. Man is devoted to the risks of conflict on the outside; he is the victim of its aggression; he suffers change. But thanks to his wife he has a home where he can recover intact his better self, his inner self: the freshness and poetry of love, the faithfulness to memory and to conscience, the delicacy of attention and of care.'7 Man is specialized by work and by action. Woman is nearer 15The following examples have been chosen at random and hurriedly; nevertheless the meaning and the relationships of this theme of "pairs" were a matter of profound experience in the consciousness and texts of the ancients; they will be understood better if one keeps in mind the duality in unity which is at the basis of all the examples: Man and woman, soul and body, the two sides of the body (two eyes, two hands, etc.), sky and earth, sun and moon (the "two luminaries"), the two powers, pope and emperor, the two witnesses Peter and Paul, Moses and Elias, law and grace, the Church of the Jews and the Church of the Gentiles, head and body, Scripture and tradition, baptism and confirmation [Christ and the Holy ~pirit), com-munion under two species, the two columns of the temple of Jerusalem, the two cherubim of the Ark, etc. ~6For studies by Catholics see Gertrud von Lefort, Die ewige Frau ~Munich, 1935); Maura BSckeler, Das grosse Zeichen. Die Frau als Symbol g6ttlicher Wirklichkeit (Salzburg, 1941); D'Eve tt Marie, ou le destin de la Femme in L'Anneau d'or, 1954; F.J.J. Buytendijk, La femme, ses modes d'etre, de paratt)'e et d'exister (Paris, 1957). A Protestant study is Ch. von Kirschbaum's Die wirkliche Frau (Zurich, 1949). A Greek Orthodox study is: Paul Evdo-kimov, La femme et le salut du monde. Etude d'anthropologie chrdtient~e sur les charismes de la [emme (Paris, 1958). ~TThis role of woman is well illustrated in novels such as the following: Sigrid Undset, Kristin Lavransdatter: Elizabeth Goudge, Green Dolphin Street; A. J. Cronin, Th~ Citadel. See also Alice Oll~-Laprune, Liens immortels. 24 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN to the sources of life and of elementary realities, more humbly given over to daily occupations. She has also an instinctive sensi-bility which allows her to grasp things in a more concrete, simpler, more comprehensive fashion, to see things as wholes. She gives herself more simply, and perhaps more irrevocably, in committing herself more thoroughly and totally to these things. In this total commitment of woman there is a value attested to by experience which is expressed remarkably well in the con-secration of religious women. This consecration, for the faithful and even for the priesthood, stands as a kind of oasis, a reserve storehouse of the simple life, of total, unsophisticated faith; it stands for homesteads of inviolate faithfulness softened by a gentle delicacy. There are here, along with a beehive's thrifty efficiency, treasure houses of devotedness and all the strength of an abnegation that is without ambition or defense. We will not delay on this longer because we are not sure that this precisely feminine element is so very important in the religious life. The religious life would represent in the Church rather that condition in which woman becomes most active,, closest to assum-ing initiatives and activities comparable to those of men. So she proclaims in a special way a superiority over the differences of sex and over the other conditions which divide man in his "life in Christ.''~8 If femininity exists at this level, it is that of the whole Church who is, according to patristic tradition and its develop-ment of the indications of Scripture, the New Eve beside the New Adam, Christ. That which, in the Church, represents Christ as Master, Spouse, and Father, is not the male religious institute; it is the episcopacy and the priesthood. It is easy to relate these facts to that which was said above about the two aspects of the Church: that of goal or of holiness, alongside which religious life has its special place, and that of means, alongside which the dis-tinction between priests and simple faithful has its place. The Role of Religious Woman in the Church The religious life is, in the Church, the highest approximation of the City of God. It is, in the sphere of collective realities, that portion which is nearest to being the fruit of lasting holiness (reality), that which most closely pertains to the Church as "Com-reunion of Saints" and eschatological reality. This is what we shall consider first in itself and then in its inherent value as a sign. ~sSee Gal 3:28; Col 3:11. 25 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious Religious life is first of all for God. It exists in the Church first of all as an area reserved for God. It represents the first fruits and their special worth as tokens of homage and as free gifts. Sometimes, in a corner of the countryside withdrawn from the traffic of men one finds a religious house which, humanly speaking, vegetates. But when one has become a regular visitor to such a community, one discovers that it is accomplishing an onerous duty of praise or of intercession, far from the notice or even the knowl-edge of men. "To what purpose is this waste?" ~Mt 26:8; Mk 14:4) It is the song of the bride meant only for her spouse; it is that part of the Church seen and known to God alone, to the Father "who sees in secret" (Mt 6:4; 6:18). Above and beyond all its external usefulness and all i~s ordination to extrinsic things, religious life remains a realization of the mystery of the Church or of the mystical body. It is im-possible to'emphasize this too much: before one can cooperate in the building up of the outside of the Church which is for others, it is necessary that it be built up within. A religious community is a cell of the Church; better, it is a Church in miniature.'9 It gives flesh to the mystery of the Church. The Rule of St. Augustine begins with these words, whose fulness of meaning and even whose technical validity arise out of the great Augustinian synthesis on the sacrifice of the "City redeemed as one":2° "A primary purpose for which you are gathered together in one community is that you live in the monastery with unanimity, having but one mind and one heart in the service of God.''~' Members join together in re-ligious life first of all to live the life of charity, to give reality to fraternal union according to the spirit of the Gospel. We cannot meditate too much on this truth, without which our communities will be nothing but a lie and a scandal.'-'~ The great lawgivers of ~On this theme see the valuable study of Dom Emmanuel yon Severus, "Das MSnchtum als Kirche," in Enkainia, ed. by H. Emonds (Dusseldorf, 1956), 230-48; also A. deVogu~, "Le monast~re, Eglise du Christ," in Studia Anselmiana, 42 (Rome, 1957), 25-46. ~'See De Civitate Dei, X, cc. 5 and 6. ~Patrologia Latina, 32, 1738. ~To stimulate reflection on this matter, I permit myself to cite here the two following texts which are hateful and terrible, but important: "Monks are people who bunch together without knowing each other, live together without loving each other, and die without regretting each other." ~Voltaire, L'homme aux quarante ~cus, VIII, Oeuvres completes, xxxiv, Paris, 1829, 60). "The love of God serves them as an excuse to love no one; they do not even love one another. Has anyone ever observed rea] friendship among the devout? But the more they detach themselves from men, the more they demand of men; and one could say that they do not raise themselves to God except to exercise his authority on the earth." (J.-J. Rousseau, Nouve~le Hdloise 6th Part, Letter 8). 26 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN the cenobitic life, St. Pachomius and St. Basil, expressly defended the primacy of this life over the anchoritic life on the basis of the fraternal charity and mutual edification (one of the great values in the Gospels) for which it gives the opportunity.~'~ One of the essential articles of the religious life is the achievement of a true fraternal relationship, the condition, complement, and fruit of a true relationship with God. If the Christian is an eschatological man because he is a fellow citizen with the saints, a member of the house of God (Eph 2:19), the monk is all the more truly a Christian. "But our citizenship is in heaven.''24 This is :said and it is true of all the people of God, for they are a people in exile journeying towards their fatherland. We have already received the pledge of the Spirit, the first fruits of our inheritance,2'' but only the pledge and the first fruits. We still live here below subject to the slavery of the flesh and the oppression of the devil, whom our Savior ~calls "the .Prince of this world"; all creation, subject to vanity, groans in the labor of its childbirth hoping for the glorious liberty of the children of God (Rm 8:19-23). The citizens of the heavenly city are, in this life, in the situa-tion of a people occupied by an enemy power. There are those who adjust themselves to it, there are even those who compromise and "collaborate." There are many who do not accept the enemy power, and in the midst of external conditions of servitude, they assert as far as they can their loyalty to their homeland. But some go farther and resist. They escape to the outskirts. There at least they advance With great labor the hour of liberation, they live already a life of liberty and they prepare for everyone the coming of the liberator. If the Church is like the outskirts of the world,'-'~ religious life is so in a more decided way. Religious have left their homes, their parents, their fields, the comforts of normal life, to be unburdened, free to serve the King of the Heavens. They are, by a more meaningful title, the first fruits of the new creation.~7 ~:~See H. Leclercq, "C~nobitisme," in Dictionnaire d'archdologie chrdtienne, II, 2, 3047-3248; 3093 is concerned with Saint Pachomius and 3149-50 with Saint Basil. See also Vie de Pach6me, cc. 3 and 4 in R. Draguet's Les P~res du ddsert (Paris, 1949), 90 ff., and Saint Basil, Regulae fusius tractatae, cc. 7 and 25-31 (Patrologia Graeca, 31,928 and 984 ft'.) and his Letter 295 (Patro-logia Graeca, 32, 1037). See also 0. Rousseau, Monachisme et vie religieuse d'apr~s l'ancienne tradition de l'Eglise (Chevetogne, 1957), 80 ff. 24Phil 3:20; Heb 11:13-16. ~SSee 2 Cor 1:12; Rom 8:1-30; Eph 1:14o ~See Yves M. J. Congar, Lay People in the Church (Westminster, 1957), 101. ~TSee Apoc 14:4, "the first fruits for God and for the Lamb." This idea of 27 YVES M.-J. COUGAR Review for Religious Each religious profession is like a guerilla victory by which the power of the occupying forces is checked; and without doubt Christ contemplates it with the sentiments which he expressed when the seventy-two disciples returned from their mission full of joy that the demons had given way before them: "I was watching Satan fall as lightning from heaven" (Lk 10:18). This idea of the religious life as an eschatological life~8 is fre-quently expressed in monastic tradition by the theme of the angelic life.2~ It is a perfectly valid theme. Whether one actually looks at the religious life under the aspect of virginity or under that of the spiritual marriage, which is fundamentally the same thing, or under the aspect of the perpetual praise of God (see in particular E: Peterson), or under that of the anticipation as far as possible of heavenly life, life in the presence of God, and even if one looks at this life in the details of asceticism such as vigils or fasting -- under all these aspects of religious life the theme of the angelic life is authentic, and we wish in no way to exclude it. We are convinced,, nevertheless, that certain expressions can be very dangerous and ought to be criticized in the name of biblical and Christian truth2° Historically these expressions have been somewhat distorted by influences coming from two areas: first, the assumption, without~ a critical attitude sufficiently inspired by the biblical point of view, of certain Platonic and Pythagorean ideas, in particular the idea that man consists of a soul, that the body is a tomb (a~/~a-~l/~a) from which one should free himself as much as possible with the result that perfection is made to consist in the contemplation (Oe¢op;~) of eternal, transcendent truths; second, the development of a wholly speculative theory concerning Adam and the state of paradise. We know how St. Gregory of Nyssa, for example, transposed, the final liberation from the oppo-the first fruits is especially emphasized by Dom Emmanuel von Severus, "Zu den bibiischen Grundlagen des MSnchtums," in Geist und Leben, 26 (1953), 113-22'; see also the same periodical, 27 (1954), 414 ff. -°SThis idea is developed in D. Thalhammer, S.J., Jenseitige Menschen. Eine Deutung des Ordensstandes, 2nd ed. (Freiburg, 1952); in J. Leclercq, La vie parfaite (Turnhout, 1948); in L. Bouyer, The Meaning of the Monastic Life (New York, 1955); and in O. Rousseau, op. cir. (footnote 23). ~Wexts on this are innumerable. The principal ones can be found in the works listed in the preceding note, to which the following may be added: E. Peterson, Le livre des anges (Paris, 1954); A. Lamy, "Bios angelikos," in Dieu vivant, n. 7 (1946), 59-77; J. C. Didier, " 'Angdlisme' ou perspectives eschatologiques?" in M~langes de science retigieuse, 11 (1954), 31-48; U. Ranke-Heinemann, "Zum Ideal der vita angelica im fr~ihen MSnchtum," in Geist und Leben, 29 (1956), 347-57; Emmanuel yon Severus, "Bios aggetikos," in Die Engel in der Welt yon heute, 1957, 56-70. 3°I hope to treat this problem later and on a larger scale with the needed precisions and justifications. 28 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN sition of the sexes (above, note 18) into the creative intention and held that sex had been a ~stranger to the nature of man as God had, or would have conceived of him, if He had not known ia advance that man would sin.'~ The result of this double influence, with which other factors certainly have concurred, has been not so much perhaps to give an orientation toward the recovery of a lost state of perfection, which is an eschatological expectation present in the New Testament; it has been rather to superimpose on (and perhaps to substitute for) the duality between this world and the other which is to come as the fruit of Christ's Passover, a duality between this earthly, bodily world and a celestial, in-corporeal world which is to be imitated as closely as. possible. But is the Christian ideal to be found in the condescension of God who for love entered human history as a suffering servant? Or is it instead an angelic perfection, situated in an ideal world of the spirit toward which the soul must elevate itself by certain degrees of ascension and sublimation thereby withdrawing itself progres-sively from the sensible world? We may well fear lest spirituality seek its place between heaven and earth and turn away from the history of the world and the commitment to be a savior to men's miseries, meanwhile adjusting itself to a theocracy in which the idea of subordination of body to soul ambiguously expresses itself as a basically political program of subjection of the "temporal" to the "spiritual." We find something of this, it seems, in the history of Citeaux at the height of its prosperity. At that very time the "They will be like the angels" (Lk 20:36; Mt 22:30) is transposed from eschatology to the condition of monks on the earth, something which had been completely avoided, for example, by St. Augustine2: But, on the other hand, for St. Bernard, the mysticism of that angelic life which can bear such doubtful fruits as we have just mentioned is balanced by an ardent mysticism of Christ in his humanity and of the imitation of Christ. What is important is to see, as St. Therese of Lisieux very brilliantly saw it and acted on it,'~'~ that the perfection of love con- 3*See De opificio hominis, cc. 16-17 (Patrologia Graeca, 46, 181 and 188-92). On the very subtle thought of Gregory see the Introduction of P. J. Laplace to La crdation de l'homme [Paris, 1943). St. Thomas criticizes this position in Summa Theologiae, 1, 98, 2. 3~See "Eglise et Cit~ de Dieu chez quelques auteurs cisterciens h l'~poque des Croisades," in Mdlanges Etienne Gilson [Paris, 1959) and "Henri de Marcy, abb~ de Clairvaux, cardinal-dv~que d'Albano et l~gat pontifical," in Analecta Monastica, 5 (Rome, 1958). 33See the studies of A. Combes [for example, his Saint Therese and Her Mission INew York, 1955]) and Ft. Heer, "Die Heilige des Atomzeitalters," in Sprechen wir yon der Wirklichkeit (Nuremberg, 1955), 177 ft. From the 29 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious sists essentially not in the ascending movements of an increasing spiritualization, but in a descent by the paths and the steps of humble service to the point of emptying oneselfi34 One must come to the cross where the salvation of the world is worked out and where, by losing ourselves, we work out our own salvation also. This is scriptural and it is Christian, more .scriptural and more Christian than the theme of the angelic life, traditional and valid though it may be under the conditions which have just been detailed. This angelic theme is a monastic theme. Many modern con-gregations, as they are called, have little or no contact with the great sources of monastic spirituality. They are not, for all that, safe from missteps analogous to those which the theme of the angelic life risks causing. The spirituality proposed in these con-gregations, in so far as it is legitimate to reduce it to a common denominator, is largely inspired by Jesuit authors (Rodriguez) and by the spirituality of the French school, the great French moralists and preachers of the "Great Century." But these sources, valuable certainly and even powerful as inspirers of the true Christian life, seem to bear the mark of the two following influences: first, a certain stoic influence, of which Guillaume du Vair would be a particularly representative example35 (we do not mention him for any other reason and certainly not as one of the sources). This stoic influence, diffuse as it may be, is not negligible. Many mod-ern spiritual programs depend rather largely on Christian stoicism. Second: even the great spiritual men of the French school betray the orientation of the moralist, an insistence on those themes which aim to make man conscious of his baseness and his malice, an insistence on the theme of original sin and its consequences, on the wickedness of the world and of all its aims2~ It seems that this is far from the theme of the angelic life; but the two rejoin in certain eventual consequences. There are fruitful considerations in literary viewpoint see von Balthasar, Le chr~tien Bernanos, pp. 156, 160-61, 264 ff., 457-77, 484. '~4Phil 2:7. ~See F. Strowski, Histoire du sentiment religieux en France au xvii" si~cle, I (Paris, 1910), 18-125; and P. Mesnard, "Du Vair et le N6o-stoicisme," in Revue d'histoire de la philosophie, April, 1928, 142-66. Du Vair begins from original sin and the feelings of penance to arrive at a "life in God" by passing through the practice of the cardinal virtues. ~"Some remarks concerning the influence of this spirituality on the con-gregations of teaching religious may be found in J. G. Lawler, The Christian Imagination: Studies in Religious Thought (Westminster, 1955), 38 ft. It is also necessary here to refer to the Imitation of Christ with its moralistic and individualistic perspective of the opposition between the movements of grace and the movements of nature. 3O January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN all these areas, but scriptural monotheism implies another set of values, more thoroughly oriented toward life, toward history, toward the cosmic theme of salvation. The religious life, and more especially the religious life of women, realizes with a particular intensity and purity the voca-tion of the Church to be the Virgin Spouse of the Lord and thus to become spiritually a mother. The application to the Church of these three inseparable themes: virgin, spouse, mother, whose biblical sources are not only abundant, but situated at the heart of the economy of salvation, is frequent in Christian tradition27 To wish to compare them with themes more or less verbally analogous which have been gathered from the history of religions would be to close one's mind to this. Pagan religions are nature religions which transfer to so-called transcendent persons the relationships and needs of men. They sexualise the divinity. The God of biblical revelation is in no way sexualised; He is the living God who unites men to Himself by faith. The whole relationship of alliance and of union which He establishes with man consists in the spiritual relation of faith, and faith includes a total gift, and therefore is not fully realized except by love: "I will espouse thee to me for-ever: and I will espouse thee to me in justice and judgment and in mercy and in commiserations. And I will espouse thee to me in faith" (Hos 2:19-20). That which creates between God and our-selves, between the Church and God, a marital relation is nothing other than this completely spiritual communication in faith. But this communication supposes in us the sole response of a total giving, of receptivity to the coming of God: "Behold the handmaid of the Lord, be it done to me according to thy word." So faith is the point of contact for an exchange of fidelity. "I will be your God and you will be my people." And therefore it is a point at which a relation of alliance is achieved, a marital union which is at the same time altogether virginal. It is altogether virginal be-cause the union is spiritual. It consists in nothing else than fidelity itself and is preserved by maintaining this fidelity, that is to say, by its very chastity. It is altogether virginal also because in this relationship of faith nothing which comes from the outside or from ~TThe bibliography is abundant; we will cite only the following: S. Tromp, "Ecclesia Sponsa, Virgo, Mater," in Gregorianum, 18 (1937), 3-29; O. Casel, "Die Kirche als Braut Christi nach Schrift, V~itern, und Liturgie," in The-ologie der Zeit, 1936, 91-111; CI. Chavasse, The Bride o] Christ: An Enquiry into the Nuptial Element in Early Christianity (London, 1940); J. C. Plumpe, Mater Ecclesia: An Inquiry into the Concept of the Church as Mother in Early Christianity (Washington, 1943); AI. Mfiller, Ecclesia-Maria: Die Einheit Marias und der Kirche (Fribourg, 1951); H. Rahner as cited above, n. 5. 31 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious that which is lower enters in, nothing which breaks or mars its integrity. There is nothing of earthly eros here. Motherhood or fruitfulness comes to this virginal and marital union as its fulfillment. The fathers say and repeat that the Church (or the soul) becomes a virgin spouse by faith, and that she also becomes a mother by faith: virgin spouse by believing, mother by communicating the faith, by engendering men in faith. Again, the relationship is altogether spiritual. It consists in faith and this is why it is superior to every kind of carnal kinship2s Precisely because of this, the vocation of the Church to be both virginal spouse and virginal mother is achieved in all the members in proportion to their fervor. For, according to a theme equally familiar to the fathers and to spiritual authors, every soul is the Church. Nevertheless in so far as God is not fully "all in all" (1 Cor 15:28), the difference between man and woman exists not only as a reality of the world, but projects itself and intervenes in a certain manner in the body of Christ which is the Church. So there exist certain differences in the manner in which men and women exercise the spiritual motherhood of the Church. The priesthood, since it is a position of external authority, is reserved to the man. But this relates to the Church under her aspect as means of grace, and therefore does not touch the religious life. as such. In its external activity a religious institute can just as well exercise apostolic functions which also relate to the Church as means of grace and represent an explicit cooperation with the action of the hierarchy where the motherhood of the Church is achieved. But the religious life as such, the religious life purely and simply, belongs rather to the Church as eschatological realiza-tion of holiness. This devotes it to being the locus of a very pure and altogether spiritual realization of the twofold relationship of virginal marriage and of motherhood. All this is particularly true in the life of women religious be-cause woman is more a being of receptivity and of self-giving: because when she gives herself, and above all whe~ she gives her-self in the integrity of her heart and of her body, she gives herself in a more intense way, a more complete and irrevocable way than man; because having fewer exterior activities and acting less out of duty and more from her heart, she makes good with her fervor that which would have been lost to her in action. For all these ~Read in this sense Mt 12:48-50 (=Mk 3:33-35; Lk 8:21); Lk 11:28. In .the same way St. Paul calls those his brothers of whom he says that he has engendered them and is their father. See above, n. 18. 32 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN reasons religious women, consecrated virgins, play a choice role in the mystery of the Church as virgin spouse of the Lord. They play also their wonderful part in the Church's spiritual motherhood. It is extremely remarkable that this doctrine was recalled to us in a very striking way precisely in a religious woman, Therese of the Child Jesus, who having entered Carmel at the age of sixteen, having died at twenty-four, and having remained unknown by the world during her life, has become not only officially but really the patroness of all Catholic missions2'~ She became all this and remains all this solely in the order of the Communion of Saints. According to St. Augustine, it is pre-cisely the Church as a union of love and a communion of saints which exercises spiritual motherhood.4° And so without exterior activity we can in our prayer and in our laborious efforts at con-version (our penances) include intentions for other men and for all the world's miserable; and we can bear them in the womb of love which is the Church's heart of prayer and charity. It is a part of tradition also that in the Church the strong support the weak (there is no question at all here of any other strength than that which comes from God in faith). This spiritual motherhood is a very profound characteristic of the Church: we believe in the Com-munion of Saints. But experience comes frequently to the aid of our weakness of faith. Who has not appealed to this strength? Who would not be able to bear witness to its reality? The Role of the Religious Woman in the Church as a Sign St. Paul says, "We have been made a spectacle to the world, and to angels, and to men" (1 Cor 4:9). The Church gives a visible body to spiritual gifts. So, for example, the gift of unity in Christ which has been given her becomes the "note" of unity; and that of sanctification by the Holy Spirit, the "note" of holiness. Of all these notes that of holiness is the most insistent; it is'the most efficacious also as a witness to men that the Kingdom of God draws near and calls them. It is also the most directly meaningful note because from the fact of holiness to the presence of God the inference is direct and within the grasp of all. And in this mani- 3~See above, n. 33. Pius XII said that contemplative institutes are "fully and completely apostolic," Sponsa Christi, November 21, 1950 (Acta Apos-tolicae Sedis, 43 [1951], 14). See also the letter to Cardinal Piazza of June 29, 1955, (Acta Apostoltcae Sedis, 47 [~9551, 543). 4°See for example De sancta virginitate, cc. 3 and 5 (Patrologia Latina, 40, 398-99); Sermo Denis, 25, 7 (edition by G. Morin, 162-63); Sermo 215, 4 (Patrologia Latina, 38, 1074). 33 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious festation of holiness which the Church constitutes throughout the course of history, the various expressions of religious life occupy a choice place.4~ Religious communities are living parables for men of the Kingdom of God. If we begin our consideration of this by treating what is more external in religious life, its institutions appear to us first of all as the freest and most genuine expressions of the spirit of the Church on the plane of her social manifestations. We know that the Church is an original institution put into the world by God; she proceeds from spiritual energies which come from above (Mr 16:17-18). But as this divine institution is made up of men and has a historical, terrestrial existence, she projects herself and expresses herself in creations equally historical in which, nevertheless, she injects the inspiration and the mark of her own proper genius. It would not be difficult and it would be extremely interesting to show how this special genius has from the beginning inspired institutions which are essentially communal, and at the same time respectful of the person and of his liberty, and marked with the character of service. There is truly a special Christian genius at the level of social creations.~- The religious life is perhaps the most pure and most represen-tative creation of the spirit of the Church in this area of social realities. It is not in vain that she has always loved to compare herself with the model of the first community of Jerusalem. It is marvelous to see how on the collective and judicial plane religious rules and canon law have known how to translate into institutions and laws thecommands and the inspirations of the Gospel. As a result, the institutions of religious life, just as in a certain degree the canonical life of the Church herself, become a kind of preach-ing of and witnessing to the Gospel. It is no mere coincidence that it is always the same men who fail to recognize the existence of divine positive law in the world, who deny to the Church the quality of being an institution of divine law, and who misjudge, attack, and seek to thwart or sup-press religious life. One thinks of Josephinism, of Jacobinism, of our own French laicism in its virulent form. So the religious life is not only a sign of the heavenly kingdom; it is also, along with the 4XSee Cardinal Dechamps, Entretiens, in Oeuvres, I, 467 ft.; Dora Gr~a, De l'Eglise et de sa divine constitution, II (Paris, 1907), 152. Vernon Johnson was converted by the fact of Therese of Lisieux. 42Chateaubriand and even Montalembert are dated. But there are more recent and more technical studies: E. Chenon, Le rSle social de l'Eglise and the six volumes of the Carlyle brothers, A History of Mediaeval Political Theory in the West. 34 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN sacraments and the hierarchy, a sign of the Church as a separated order, a social and public reality placed ,in the world in virtue of the right God has to affirm and to establish his reign.43 In a world which wishes to be completely autonomous, religious life, situated at the heart of the Church's garden, presents the example of a life totally "theonomous." But it is common, it is normal, that signs should be, according to the dispositions of those to whom they are shown, a call to conversion or a sign of contradiction, a sign of opposition. They can also be, even for well-disposed men, signs which scandalize if they become sign~ that lie, or signs that are simply inadequate for their mission and their aims. There is also, in the religious life, and we think particularly of the religious life of women, a human element -- sometimes too human, sometimes not human enough! Pettiness, legalism, authoritarianism, pharisaism, the spirit of ownership, hardness of heart, lack of fraternal com-munion and failure to share human misery, taste for power, a judaic spirit in the way of considering observances, especially the least important ones, precisely those from which the Gospel has liberated us. Among the causes which brought on the death of Christianity, the betrayal of their true spirit in the last centuries of the Middle Ages by a number of monastic and religious insti-tutions has justly been noted.4~ When it is authentic, the religious life is a sign that the spiritual exists. Heaven exists, and that takes the value out of the the goods and the joys of earth. Not that they are not truly goods, truly joys, but they are so relative! For "this world as we see it is passing away" (1 Cor 7:31). The religious life proposes, without the noise of words, the message of death which the Church addresses to the world, not a sorrowful message -- who is more joyful than the religious man, if not the religious woman? -- but a serious and an important one. Again, the religious life verifies in a singular manner the essence of all Christian life, which is an Easter life, a mystery of life and of death, comprehended within the message of 4'~In this connection I recall the beautiful text of A. Lamy, "Bios angelikos," in Dieu vivant, n. 7, 76: "The function of monachism in the Church seems to be to affirm the citizenship of the Christian in the city of the angels arid to affirm his rights there by the exercise of them." Religious life is one ele-ment of the eschatological right which the Church affirms and translates into the world. On this basis it could be said that religious life is of divine right, not in its various historical forms, but in its essential principle. It flows from the transcendence of the Church with respect to the world and from the right possessed by every Christian to leave the world and to thus affirm his eschatological and spiritual royalty. ~See Fr. Heer, "L'h~ritage Europe," in Dieu vivant, n. 27 (1954), 43. 35 Yvzs M.-J. CO~AR Review for Religious Ash Wednesday, "Remember that you are dust and that you will return to dust" and that of Easter Day, "Remember that you are spirit and that you will return to the Spirit." The religious life, by its mere existence, is a witness to the world that God exists; it calls the world to the obedience of faith. On either side of the chancel which closes in the choir at the abbey of Maria Laach one may read these words of St. Paul:" "I, therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, exhort you to walk in a worthy manner" (Eph 4:1). The religious life, therefore, has its part in the great kerygmatic function of the Church, that is, in its .lifelong exercise of the mis-sion of announcing the Good News of the Kingdom. It is like a lasting sermon against the spirit of the world. Against its freedom-worshipping and anarchical taste for liberty, religious life affirms that one can bind himself to God, that one can, in the Holy Spirit, make a spiritual thing out of that which is corporeal, and make something stable out of that which changes. Against the world's obsessive defeatism before the evil which it inflicts on itself, the religious life affirms that one can conquer the flesh and push back the empire of the devil. Finally if it is true that the very word ecclesia means con-vocation, a gathering of men in response to a call, the cal! of the Kingdom of God, the religious life situates itself at the very source of the mystery of the Church. For the religious life is, both in its substance as well as in the first act which draws one to enter into it, a total listening to God. It is a reality in the image of Mary, Mary herself being, we know, the type, and even better than the type: the perfect personification of the Church as holiness. It is possible to think that in the wide sense everything is a vocation, because everything is a response to the will of God. But there are vocations in the strict sense, and it is correct to speak of "religious vocation." In the Church, as we have seen, the strong support the weakest; docility in the following of that which is strictly a voca-tion is like a compelling example, a sign and a support for the difficult fidelity to vocations in their larger acceptation. The abso-luteness of the response of religious women to their call supports the response of all others. It is necessary that religious women know that they contribute in this way to the continuation of the whole Church, somewhat as each star in the firmament is necessary for the balance of the whole. Spiritually we all have family respon-sibilities. A last remark of some importance ecclesiologically on the subject of the religious life as a response to a special call. In the 36 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN beginnings of Christianity, baptism ratified a personal choice, an eventually dangerous one, of the faith. It was the term of a con-version. It was truly a second birth, not only in the dogmatic sense which is always true, but in the moral sense and on the psycho-logical plane. Psychologists distinguish, since Francis W. New-man, 4~ the "once born" and the "twice born": those who are simply what they were at their entrance into the world plus the results of their being" formed by it; and those who have known a revela-tion, had a decisive ~xperience, heard a call, and are truly, per-sonally, born a second time. A man baptised at the termination of a personal conversion is, psychologically and morally, a "twice born." But, in the general practice, almost universal and one might even say automatic practice of baptism of the newly born, the Church is no longer made up of the twice born except by way of exception. But it is necessary that their moral race always be represented in her midst. She is "twice born" individually by the more or less large number of faithful who are truly born of a second birth. She is "twice born" institutionally especially because of the religious life. Moreover, historically the fact has often been brought out46 that the monastic life developed at the moment when, with the end of persecution and danger and the beginning of the favor of the powerful, large masses of people entered the Church, en-dangering the strength of her leaven. The vocation to asceticism has after a fashion taken the place of the vocation to martyrdom; monks have in a way taken over the status of the martyrs as signs of an absolute response given to an absolute call. The Church's religious life always has this mission of signifying that the Christian life is a second birth whose principle is a call. We will not treat here -- we have already done it briefly elsewhere47 -- an interesting problem, but more theoretical than practical, which was posed by the researches of M. Weber and E. Troeltsch. According to these Protestant authors, religious orders answer within the Church to the needs and the religious tempera-ment which outside the Church produces sects. These would be, sociologically speaking, of the "sect" type, not of the "church" type in so far as they are groupings, first, of volunteers, men who 4~The Soul. Its Sorrows and Its Aspirations. 3rd ed., 1852, 89 ft. 4GFor example, see M. Viller, "Martyre et perfection," in Revue d'ascd-tique et mystique, 6 (1925), 4-25; L. Bouyer, op. cit. n. 28, 89 ft. and his Vie de saint Antoine (Fontenelle, 1950); J. Winandy, Ambroise Autpert, moine et thdologien (Paris, 1953), 56; Ed. E. Malone, The Monk and the Martyr: The Monk as the Successor of the Martyr (Washington, 1950). 47Vraie et [ausse r~/orme dans l'Eglise (Paris, 1950), 288-92 (includes bibli-ography). 37 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious come together in a group on the basis of a personal decision and who thus do not presuppose the existence of the group but con-stitute it; second, men who have achieved a break with the world and prefer the Gospel's opposition to terrestrial life to its universal-ism which necessarily involves compromise. Troeltsch sees in religious orders an ecclesiastical naturalization of tendencies which outside the Church result in sects. There is much truth in the analysis of Troeltsch, but only on its own psycho-sociological plane. Both above and below this level it errs. Without prejudice to other of his well made points, we be-lieve we have shown from the inside, that is to say from the view-point of the Church herself, that it is the mystery of the Church which is found to be the essential element in the life of religious orders and of each of their members. By way of conclusion, we would like to answer a question which it is impossible not to put in the context of what we have been considering. Is the religious life or is it not of the essence of the Church, and if it is, by what title? Papal teaching furnishes an answer and it will suffice merely to present it and explain it. Faced with "Americanism," Leo XIII already affirmed that religious orders are of great importance to the mission of the Church.48 But it was necessary to connect their existence with the end of the Church. The Church would not fully fulfill her mission if the institutions of religious life were lacking. If the end of the "missions," in the strict canonical sense of the word, is to "plant the Church" in such a way that she has in a given country or among a given people all her essential institutions, all the means of existence and of action, one understands why Pius XI demanded that on the missions as many religious orders and congregations as possible should be instituted, and that they should be made up of indigenous elements created in new and better forms, where the need for such arose29 His Holiness Pius XII made the matter still clearer in the constitution Provida mater of February 2, 1947, the charter of secular instutes. The two states of cleric and layman, he said, exist by divine right and are necessary to the Church in so far as she is a society constituted and structured hierarchically; they pertain to the essential structure (to the building) of the Kingdom of God 4sSee his letter Testern benevolentiae to Cardinal Gibbons, January 22, 1899, in Actes de Ldon XIII (Paris: Bonne Presse), V, 322-25; also the letter of December 23, 1900 to Cardinal Richard, ibid., VI, 188-89. ~gSee the encylical Rerurn Ecclesiae of February, 1926, in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 18 (1926), 74. 38 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN on earth.5° The Church recognizes a third state, the religious state, which is common to the two preceding states, since it includes members of the faithful who, canonically, belong to the clerical or to the lay state; this religious state is bound by a strict and peculiar relationship to the end of the Church, sanctification.5~ One can say, then, that the religious state is not essential to the Church considered in her formal elements or in her static constitutives. A bishop and faithful suffice for a Church. From this comes the well-known definition of St. Cyprian, "A people one with its priest and a flock adhering to its shepherd, these are the Church.''~ Nevertheless, as soon as the Church lives she exercises the activities for which she was put into the world. These are the activities of the sanctification of men, that is to say, of their sub-mission to the Kingdom of God and, by that fact, of their entry into her communion. Here it is that the religious life steps in as the social form of existence most strictly conformed to the needs and the conditions of the Kingdom of God. And the religious life was first seen historically under the form of the institution of con° secrated virgins. Evidently, looked at in one or other of its par-ticular forms, religious life is a creation of the Church and stands out in her history. But, looked upon in principle, that is to say as the call to live only for God and for His kingdom, it holds a place at the very heart of the Church. In her quality as bride of Christ, it is included in the obligations and the laws of holiness which this Church pursues as her proper end. ~°Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 39 (1947), 116. In his al]ocution Annus sacer, the Holy Father, citing canon 107, said that "on earth the structure of the Kingdom of God consists of a double element" (Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 43 [1951], 27). ~See Provida Mater Ecclesiae and also Annus sacer, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 43 (1951), 28: "[The religious state] exists and is important, because it is closely connected to the proper end of the Church which is to lead men to the attainment of sanctity." ~2Epistula 66, 8 (Hartel's edition, p. 732; Patrologia Latina, 4, 406 where it is listed, however, as Epistle 69). 39 Survey of Roman Documents R. F. Smith, S. J. THIS ARTICLE will provide a summary of the documents which appeared in Acta Apostolicae Sedis (AAS) during August and Sep-tember, 1959. Throughout the article all page references will be to the 1959 AAS (v. 51). Encyclical on the Priesthood On August 1, 1959 (AAS, pp. 545479), Pope John XXIII issued the second encyclical of his pontificate. The encyclical was entitled Sacerdotii Nostri primordia (The First Days of Our Priesthood); oc-casioned by the Pontiff's desire to honor the hundredth anniversary of the death of St. John Vianney, Cur~ of Ars, the document is devoted to a consideration of the priesthood as exemplified in the life of the saint. The introductory paragraphs recall the temporal links between the official glorification of St. John and the Pontiff's own priesthood: the future saint was beatified shortly after the Pope's own ordination to the priesthood; the first bishop the Pope served, Bishop Radini- Tadeschi, was consecrated on the day of the beatification; and the Pope received the fullness of the priesthood in the year (1925) when the Cur~ of Ars was declared a saint. The Holy Father then lists the great papal documents on the priesthood that have appeared during the present century: Pius X's Haerent animo (Acta Pii X, 4, 237-64); Plus XI's Ad catholici sacerdotii fastigium (AAS, 28 ~19361, 5-53); Pius XII's Menti Nostrae (AAS, 42 [1950], 657-702); and the same Pontiff's three allocutions on the priesthood inspired by the canonization of Plus X (AAS, 46 119541, 313-17; 666-77). To these documents the Pope has now added his own in the hope that it may aid priests to preserve and increase that divine friendship which is at once the joy and strength of the priestly life. In expressing the purpose of the encyclical the Vicar of Christ remarked that he intended to retrace the chief traits of the holiness of the Cur~ of Ars, since these emphasize those aspects of the priestly life which, while always essential, are today so vital that the Pontiff has deemed it his apostolic duty to call attention to them. Priestly Asceticism and Mortification In the first of the three parts of the main body of the encyclical the Pope considered the priestly asceticism and mortification of the Cur~. To speak of the saint, he began, is to evoke the figure of an 4O ROMAN DOCUMENTS exceptionally mortified priest who for the love of God deprived himself of nourishment and sleep, practiced severe, penances, and exercised a heroic self-renouncement. His example, the Holy Father said, should recall to all the important place of the virtue of penance in the perfec-tion proper to the priesthood. While it is true that priests as such are not bound by divine law to the evangelical counsels, still this does not mean that the priest is less bound than religious to strive for evangelical perfection of life. Rather the accomplishment of the priestly functions "requires a greater interior sanctity than even the religious state does" (St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, 2-2, 184, 8, c). And if the evangelical counsels are not imposed on the priest by virtue of his clerical state, nevertheless they are offered to him, as to all Christians, as the safest road to the longed for goal of Christian perfection. The Cur~ of Ars, continued the Pope, is a model of evangelical poverty; he lived totally detached from the things of this world. Freed in this way from the bonds of material things, he could thereby be entirely open to all those who suffered and who flocked to him for solace. His disinterestedness made him especially attentive to the poor whom he treated with tenderness and respect, convinced that to con-temn the poor is to contemn God Himself. Priests, then, if they possess material things, should not cleave to them with cupidity; rather should they recall the directives of canon law (c. 1473) according to which what is left over from ecclesiastical benefices should be used in favor of the poor and of pious causes. The Pontiff, however, made it clear in the closing part of this section that he does not approve the abject poverty to which many priests in small towns and in the country are reduced, and he urged the faithful to cooperate with the bishops to see that the sacred ministers be not lacking in what is necessary for their daily sustenance. Turning to the second of the evangelical counsels, the Vicar of Christ then pointed out that all through his life the Cur~ was mortified in his body and that this was achieved by his constant and careful observance of chastity. His example, the Pope pointed out, is most necessary today; for in many places priests must live in an atmosphere of excessive license and pleasure. And at times they must live in such an atmosphere unsupported by the sympathetic understanding of the faithful they serve. In spite of these difficulties John XXIII called upon priests to show forth in their entire lives the splendor of the virtue of chastity, that noblest ornament of their sacred order, as Pius X called it. The chastity of the priest, he added, will not enclose him in a sterile egoism; for as the Cur~ of Ars himself once said: "The soul that is adorned with the virtue of chastity can not but love others; for such a person has found the source and origin of all love---God." The next component of the Cur~'s asceticism to be considered by the Holy Father was his obedience. The Pontiff emphasized that the 41 l~ F. SMtT~ Rewew for Rehgmus "I promise" of the Cur$'s ordination ceremony was the occasion of a permanent self-renouncement that lasted throughout forty years. From early youth the ardent desire of the Cur~ had been for solitude, and his pastoral responsibilities were a heavy burden preventing him from the fulfillment of this desire; many times he tried to be freed from his pastoral work but always remained obedient to the will of his bishop, convinced as he was of the Gospel phrase: "Whoever hears you, hears me" (Lk 10:16). The Vicar of Christ then expressed the hope that the priests of today would see in the Curg the grandeur of obedience and would recall the words of Pius XII: "Individual holiness as well as the efficacy of all apostolic work finds its solid foundation in constant obedience to the hierarchy." Accordingly priests should endeavor to develop in themselves the sense of the filial relationship by which they are united to Mother Church. Prayer and Devotion to the Eucharist In the second principal division of the document, John XXIII reflected on St. John as a model of prayer and of devotion to the Eu-charist. Prayer, he said, was as important in the saint's life as was penance and mortification. His love for prayer was shown in his long nightly vigils of adoration before the Blessed Sacrament; the tabernacle of his parish church became for him the center from which he drew the strength necessary for his own personal life and for the effectiveness of his apostolic endeavors. This example of the Cur6, the Vicar of Christ pointed out, is sorely needed by the priests of today; for they are keenly sensible of the effectiveness of action and hence easily tempted to a dangerous activism. The Cur~ of Ars should convince priests everywhere that they must be men of prayer and that they can be such, no matter how heavy the press of apostolic labors may at times become. The prayer of the Cur~, he continued, was especially a Eucharistic prayer; for nothing in the life of a priest can replace silent and prolonged prayer before the altar. Nor should it be forgotten that Eucharistic prayer in the fullest sense of the word is to be found in the sacrifice of the Mass. The celebration of the Mass is an essential part of the priestly life, for in what does the apostolate of the priest consist if not in the gathering together of the people of God around the altar? It is through the Mass that in one generation after another the mystical body of Christ that is the Church is built up. Moreover the entire sanctifica-tion of the priest must be modeled on the sacrifice he offers; the priest must make his own life a fitting sacrifice, a participation in the expiatory life of the Redeemer. It was for this reason that the Cur~ used to ob-serve that if priests lose the first fervor of their ordination it is because they do not celebrate piously and attentively. 42 January, 1960 ROMAN DOCUMENTS Pastoral Zeal In the third part of the encyclical the Vicar of Christ delineates the pastoral zeal of St. John Vianney. The Curg's life of asceticism, he observed, together with his life of prayer was the source from which flowed the effectiveness of his ministry; in him is verified once more the statement of Christ: "Without me you can do nothing" (Jn 15:5). As a result, the Curg was a model shepherd of souls who knew his flock, protected it from danger, and led it with authority and wisdom. His example, the Pope continued, included three points of utmost import-ance. The first of these was his keen appreciation of his pastoral re-sponsibilities. From the beginning he conceived of his pastoral work in heroic fashion and expressed his attitude in one of his early prayers: "Grant, O God, that~ the people entrusted to me may be converted. For this I am prepared to suffer all the days of my life whatever You may wish." Following the example of apostles of all ages he saw in the cross the one great effective means of saving souls; so it was that he could advise a fellow priest who was disappointed in the results of his apostolic endeavors that prayer, supplications, sighs, and groans were insufficient unless there was added to them fastings, vigils, and bodily chastisement. Besides his general sense of his pastoral responsibilities the Curg manifested his pastoral zeal by his interest and care for preaching and catechizing. Up to the time of his death St. John never ceased to preach, to instruct, to denounce evil, and to lead souls towards God. This should remind today's priests, the Pope said, that everywhere and at all times they must be faithful to their duty of preaching; for, as Pius X insisted, no task of the priest is more important than this. And in their reflections upon their duty to teach, priests should remember that they preach more by their lives than by their words. The third element in the pastoral zeal of the Cur~ of Ars was, according to the encyclical, his work as confessor. It was this form of his ministry that became the real martyrdom of his life. His fifteen hours a day in the confessional would have been difficult in any case; but these were spent by a man already exhausted by fasting, penances, and infirmities. It can be said, the Pope continued, that the Cur~ lived for sinners; their conversion and sanctification was the aim of all his thoughts and of all his activities. Like the Cur~ priests must devote themselves to the work of the confessional, for it is there that the mercy of God meets and overcomes the malice of men. And they must set their people a good example in this matter by their own regular and fervent use of the sacrament of penance. In the conclusion to the encyclical the Pontiff expressed the desire that the centenary of the Curg may arouse in all priests a desire to accomplish their ministry and especially their own perfection as gen-erously as possible. No problem facing the Church today, he added, 43 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious can be solved without priests. As Plus X said: "To promote the King-dom of Christ throughout the world, nothing is more necessary than a holy clergy." Similarly St. John himself pointed out to his bishop: "If you wish to convert your diocese, you must make saints of all your priests." The Pontiff went on to urge the bishops of the world to make the care of their priests their first solicitude; he exhorted the faithful to pray for priests and to contribute to their sanctification; and he pleaded with Christian youth to reflect that "the harvest is great, but the harvesters are few" (Mt 9:37) and that entire peoples are today enduring a spiritual starvation far greater than any hunger of the body. Allocutions, Addresses, Messages On July 29, 1959 (AAS, pp. 586-89), the Holy Father addressed a congress of the blind and those interested in assisting the blind of the world. Pointing out to his audience that in Jesus' ministry of healing the first place was reserved for the blind, the Pontiff went on to deliver a message of hope to the blind of the world. They must remember, he began, that they have a suffering to offer up to God. In spite of all efforts to ease the lot of the blind, they will always be subject to dis-couragement, loneliness, and the weight of sorrow that blindness carries with it. Yet they must recall that according to the Apostle (Col 1:24) men must fill up what is lacking to Christ's passion and that in the redemptive plan the Lord has need of the daily offering of suffering on the part of the blind. The Vicar of Christ also pointed out that the blind have a definite mission to perform in this world, the mission of silent example that only one thing matters in this world: the love with which the will of God is accomplished. And he added that nothing on tbis earth is loss, as long as conformity with God's will is present. In the concluding part of his address the Pope recalled to his listeners that their goal is that of eternal life and that their journey thither is supported by the words of Christ: "Whoever follows me walks not in darkness, but has the light of life" (Jn 8:12). Blindness, he ended, can prepare those afflicted with it for the shining luminosity which will come in the next life from the glorified Christ. On August 20, 1959 (AAS, 639-41), the Pontiff radioed a message to the Second World Sodality Congress held at Newark, New Jersey. He told the sodalists that they were in the first ranks of the Church's army and stressed in their lives the role of their consecration to the Blessed Virgin, a consecration which of its nature includes the proposal to keep it throughout life. From this consecration, he continued, arises the desire to wish for nothing except what is pleasing to God and the resolution to strive by prayer, action, and example to serve the Church and to work for the eternal salvation of souls. On July 21, 1959 (AAS, pp. 584-85), the Holy Father delivered an allocution to the Prime Minister of Japan on the occasion of that 44 January, 1960 ROMAN DOCUMENTS dignitary's official visit to the Holy See. On August 16, 1959 (AAS, pp. 638o39), he delivered a radio message to the people of.Honduras on the occasion of the official consecration of their nation to the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Heart of Mary, telling them to strive to live in the grace of God, to preserve the sanctity of the family, and to maintain union and concord among themselves. On June 30, 1959 (AAS, p. 589), the Holy Father sent a written message to the Tenth World Boy Scout Jamboree held in the Philippine Islands. In the message he pointed out that the boy scout movement can produce admirable fruits in accordance with the ideals of Christian charity and universal brotherhood. Miscellaneous Documents By the apostolic letter, "Caritatis unitas," of May 4, 1959 (AAS, pp. 630-33), the Vicar of Christ approved the confederation of the various congregations of the Order of Canons Regular of St. Augustine. At the same time he also approved the general principles which are to govern the confederation and directed the members of the confedera-tion to draw up specific statutes for the confederation which should then be submitted to the Holy See for approval. A later apostolic letter, Salutiferos cruciatus Christi, dated July 1, 1959 (AAS, pp. 634-36), was directed to the Passionists. In the letter the Pontiff approved the revised form of the Passionists' constitutions and rules. He noted that the revision was undertaken in an effort to adapt the institute to the needs of the times and observed that in the revision the primary and fundamental characteristics of the institute had been reasserted, strengthened, and made more effective. On July 8, 1959 (AAS, pp. 592-93), the Sacred Congregation of Rites issued a decree approving the Office and Mass of St. Lawrence of Brindisi, confessor and doctor. The text of the Office, of the Oration of the Mass, and of the notices to be inserted into the martyrology is given in AAS, pp. 593-94. Another decree of the same Congregation was dated February 13, 1959 (AAS, pp. 590-92); this decree approved the introduction of the causes of the Servant of God Salvatore Lilli (1853-1895), professed priest of the Order of Friars Minor, and his companions, all of Whom were put to death in hatred of the faith. In the period under survey three documents of the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary appeared. Under the date of July 18, 1959 (AAS, pp. 595-96), the Penitentiary published the revised text of the act of dedi-cation to Christ the King as well as its attached indulgences. This document is given in full on pages 3 and 4 of the present issue of RE-VIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. On August 13, 1959 (AAS, pp. 655-56), the Penitentiary published the text of a prayer composed by the Sacred Congregation of Seminaries and Universities to be recited by semi-narians for their parents. Seminarians who devoutly and contritely recite the prayer for their parents may gain an indulgence of fifty 45 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS Review for Religious days; and once a month they may gain a plenary indulgence under the usual conditions provided they have recited the prayer for a whole month. On the same date (AAS, p. 656), the Penitentiary announced that the faithful who in a church, a public oratory, or (in the case of those legitimately using it) a semi-public oratory privately perform the pious exercise commonly called the holy hour in memory of the passion, death, and ardent love of our Lord Jesus Christ may gain a plenary indulgence, if they have gone to confession, received Com-munion, and prayed for the intentions of the Holy Father. This new concession of an indulgence for this practice is not intended to abrogate the partial indulgence of ten years mentioned in the Enchiridion in-dulgentiarum (Manual of Indulgences), 1952 edition, n. 168. On May 18, 1959 (AAS, p. 647), the Sacred Consistorial Congrega-tion appointed Archbishop Concha of Bogot~ military vicar of Columbia. Views, News, Previews IN A PREVIOUS issue (Review for Religious, 18 [1959], 237), the beginning of a new quarterly, Jesus Caritas, was noted. Response to the new magazine, which is devoted to the spirituality of P~re de Foucauld, has been sufficient to warrant the continuation of its publi-cation. The latest issue has been that of September, 1959. The yearly subscription price has been set at $1.00; in Canada and the United States subscription orders should be sent to: Jesus Caritas 700 Irving Street, N.E. Washington 17, D. C. The first congress of the Confederation of Benedictine Congrega-tions to be held since the promulgation of the confederation's laws by Pius XII in 1952 took place during the latter part of September, 1959. At the congress Dom Benno Gut, Abbot of Einsiedeln in Switzerland, was elected Abbot Primate of the Confederation. The new primate was born on April 1, 1897, was professed in 1918, and ordained in 1921. After studies and a teaching career at Sant'Anselmo in Rome, he was elected abbot of Einsiedeln in 1947. The Cassinese Benedictine Congregation, largest of the fifteen included in the Benedictine Confederation, in a general chapter at Subiaco during October, 1959, elected Dom Celestino Gusi, Abbot of Manila, as the eleventh Abbot General of the congregation. The Graduate Department of Religious Education, Immaculate Heart College, 2021 North Western Avenue, Los Angeles 27, Cali- 46 January, 1960 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS fornia, announces a two-week course in canon law for religious superiors, which will grant two units of graduate credit. The course, conducted by the Reverend Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Maryland, will be open to major and local su-periors of all communities of sisters. It is scheduled for the afternoons of June 28 to July 9, 1960. The tuition is $32. The fourth course in the new program in ascetical theology, which is offered in the Graduate Department of Religious Education, Im-maculate Heart College, will be given by the Reverend Eugene Burke, C.S.P., professor of dogmatic theology at Catholic University of America, from July 11-15, 1960. The course is entitled "The Life of Grace and Growth of Virtue" and grants one unit of graduate credit. Sisters who did not apply for admission to the M.A. program when it began in October, 1959, may apply for admission now. Residence ac-commodations are available for the five-day course at Holy Spirit Retreat House in Los Angeles. All reservations must be made before June 1, 1960, and be accompanied by a ten-dollar deposit. Room and board is $20; tuition is $17.50. Inquiries should be directed to Sister Mary Thecla, I.H.M., Dean of the Graduate School, Immaculate Heart College. A new publication that should prove both interesting and important is the Seminary Newsletter, the first issue of which appeared in October, 1959: The Newsletter is issued by the Seminary Department of the National Catholic Educational Association and "is meant to be a clearinghouse of information about seminaries and seminary training, especially from the academic point of vigw; a clearinghouse of ideas, projects, and results of research." Included in the first issue of the Newsletter is an informative statistical report on Catholic seminaries in the United States. According to the report, during the academic year 1958-1959 there were 381 major and minor seminaries in the United States; of these 99 were diocesan institutions, the other 282 belonging to religious orders and congregations. The report notes "that 131 of the 381 seminaries in the United States have been founded since 1945; 108 since 1950. This means that 34% of the total number have been founded since World War II, 28% of them since 1950. It represents a 53 % increase in the number of seminaries since 1945 and a 40% increase since 1950." The report gives 38,503 as the total num-ber of young men studying for the priesthood in the United States. This number includes besides minor and major seminarians 2082 novices as well as 920 scholastics who have interrupted their seminary studies to teach. In REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 18 (1959), 304-05, Father Gallen discussed the quest~ion whether more American congregations are be- 47 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Rewew for Rehgmus coming pontifical and presented some statistics on the matter covering the years 1943 to 1957. A study of L'attivit~ della Santa Sede nel 1958 (The Activity of the Holy See in 1958), published in 1959 by the Vatican Polyglot Press gives data from the year 1958 on the same matter. According to the report of the Sacred Congregation of Religious that is given in the volume, during 1958, fifteen institutes received the decree of praise; two of these were in the United States: the Missionary Servants of the Most Blessed Trinity (M.S.B.T.) of Philadelphia founded in 1916 and the Missionary Sisters of the Most Holy Trinity (M.S.SS.T.) of Washington founded in 1921. The Congregation also reported that during 1958 there were seventeen institutes which re-ceived the definitive approval of their constitutions; of these none was in the United States. The Congregation's report also contained informa-tion about secular institutes: two secular institutes were granted diocesan establishment, one received the decree of praise, and one, the decree of final approbation; none of these four was in the United States. During the same year the Sacred Congregation of the Propagation of the Faith granted the decree of praise to one institute in Ireland and gave definitive approval to the Daughters of Mary of Uganda, Africa. It is interesting to note that this last institute is the first pontifical African institute for women. ( uestions and Answers IThe following answers are given by Father Joseph F. Gallen, S. J., professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland.] Our constitutions command the mistress to be with the novices always and, if she should be absent from the house, to learn on her return everything that happened during her absence. I do not think that any mistress has followed either injunction literally, but these two prescriptions have caused a highly exaggerated surveillance. Shouldn't the observance of both be tempered by intelligent prudence? Yes. The first injunction, that the mistress should be with the novices always, is in many constitutions, the second only in very few. The first injunction is also and unfortunately observed in many insti-tutes. This is an evidently false spiritual pedagogy. It simply does not work in any field of the development of character and it is unworthy of the religious state, which is a spontaneous, voluntary, and personal dedication of oneself to Christ. The fundamental purpose of the novice-ship is to give the novice a profound consciousness of God, not of the master or mistress. The novice is to be led to a convinced personal dedication of herself to God; her life is to be a personal committment, 48 January, 1960 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS not forced external observance; she is to be trained to think for herself, to personal decisions, and to a sense of responsibility and reliability. The noviceship should be a school that will equip the novice for the life she will actually have to live. She should be instructed and guided but allowed sufficient freedom of action; otherwise you will know what she appears to be but not what she is. She should be checked and corrected, and even more frequently than is commonly done; but this does not demand unceasing vigilance. The more a superior tries to see, the less he will learn. No superior has to try to see everything in order to learrL what he should know. I hazard the conjecture that reticence about interior matters increases in direct proportion to external observation. That the novice mistress or her assistant should be with the novices frequently is intelligent and prudent; that she should be with them always is simply destructive of the purpose intended. Only God. can see everything, and God as one's judge is not the motive of the religious life. The following quotation from a religious woman contains several thought-provoking observations. The principles for the formation of character in congregations are for the most part taken from a psychology of a distant past. This, in the case of women, only aimed at creating habits of will power, furnishing the mind with knowledge learnt by heart, and very little was done to appeal to the interest. They disregarded the education of the senses, any development of initiative and sense of responsibility and the deep needs of feelings. The new psychology seeks to develop the virtues and activities that they may adapt themselves and form personalities . Deeper problems lie in the change of the feminine way of living. In the depth of her being the woman is rather passive. In past centuries the life of a woman matched this interior disposition, but today matters have changed. Modern life forces woman to greater independent activity. She has had to take over responsible work both in private and public life. Her mode of living gets nearer to the masculine type, though at the expense of her individuality. (Sister Agnes, S.I-I.C., Religious Life Today, 162-63.) 2 Our constitutions do not mention at all the canonical requisites for a higher superior. You have already explained these partially. Will you please explain them fully? Canon 504 demands the three personal qualities listed below for the valid election or "appointment of any higher superior of men or women. Age is the only variable element among the three canonical requirements. All of these three impediments established in canon 504 are dispensable but only by the Holy See. The higher superiors in the sense of this canon are the abbot primate; abbot superior of a mon-astic congregation; the abbot .of an independent monastery, even if the monastery appertains to a monastic congregation; the mothers general and regional of federations and superioresses of monast

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X GETTYSBURG, PA., MAY, 1901 No. 3 TABLE OF CONTENTS The Social Qualities of Robert Burns as Manifested in His Poems, 70 The Cultivation of Patriotism, . 77 Superlatives, . 80 Perseverance, . 82 A Dutch Schoolmaster's Adventure, . . . . .84 Editorials, . 88 An Old Reader, . 90 Pictures, . 91 Spontaneity in Literature, . . . . . .93 In Nature's Realm, . 96 A Country Barn on a Rainy Day, . . - . 97 All Souls Day, . 98 Exchanges, . 100 Now the bright morning-star, day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose. Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire Mirth, and youth, and warm desire; Woods and groves are of thy dressing; Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing! Thus we salute thee with our early song, And welcome thee, and wish thee long. -Milton. Through wood, and stream, and field, and hill, and Ocean, A quickening life from the Earth's heart has burst As it has ever done, with change and motion, Prom the great morning of the world when first God dawned on Chaos; in its stream immersed The lamps of heaven flash with a softer light; All baser things pant with life's sacred thirst; Diffuse themselves; and spend in love's delight The beauty and the joy of their renewed might. -Shelley. 70 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY THE SOCIAL QUALITIES Of ROBERT BURNS AS MANIFESTED IN MIS POEMS D. C. BURNITE, '01 [Graeff Prize Essay] A CAREFUL comparison of the lives of poets, with their pro- ■*"*• auctions, discloses this fact, that almost universally there exists more or less inconsistency betiveen their true characters and the characters which their poems would lead us to believe they really possessed. In some cases the former belie the latter completely. In others, the works are in a large measure faithful transcripts of the men. Great uncertainty would attend an at-tempt to paint pictures of the natures of many poets were we to use as materials only the evidence drawn from their productions. Recurring bombast and affectation preclude any possibility of using their poems, with any great amount of reliability, as stand-ards by which to judge their real characters. Not so, however, with all poets. Here and there in the field of our inspection appears a bard, whose writings are a faithful reflection of his real nature. But before we can be sure that this is true of any poet, we must be certain that he is thoroughly sin-cere. So, before we can proceed to show that the qualities indi-cated in the poems of Burns are revelations of his actual personal characteristics, we must prove his sincerity. And we do this, not by a comparison of his verses with his biography, but by testi-mony drawn from the poems themselves, apart from all historical evidence. Men who talk much of themselves, as Burns does, are not gen-erally prone to admit their own shortcomings. But this poet, contrary to general practice, makes no attempt to present only the good side of his character. Frequently he gives us glimpses of his own weaknesses; not a shameless exhibition of guile, but always with expressions of sorrow and remorse. Never hidden, always open, he bares his whole heart, and shows himself as he is. He seems anxious to have us see him in a true light. How frankly and clearly he reveals his true self when he proposes "A Bard's Epitaph" for his own tomb. Read his condemnation of his own self: . THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 71 " Is there a man whose judgment clear, Can others teach the course to steer, Yet runs, himself, life's mad career, "Wild as the wave; Here pause—and thro' the starting tear Survey this grave. " The poor inhabitant below Was quick to learn and wise to know, And keenly felt the friendly glow, And softer flame; But thoughtless follies laid him low, And stain'd his name !" Can we read this and believe that Burns was not sincere ? But there are other evidences of his genuineness. Affectation and sincerity are incompatible. But, no matter how closely we scrutinize his lines, we find no indications of the former in Burns' works He must have been a lover of the truth, for he never descends to the expression of feigned emotions. His pictures are real; all are undoubtedly the products of his own experience. Of his hundreds of poems, with one or two exceptions, none are the offspring of imagination. All he presents he himself has seen and felt. We see no indications of anything assumed about his addresses "To a Mouse" and "To a Mountain Daisy." Neither is there anything false or overdrawn in his descriptions. Per-fectly natural himself, he presents things as they are. Nothing could be written with much more fidelity to life than his "Cotter's Saturday Night." Without his characteristic straightforward-ness such complete depiction of Scottish peasant life would have been impossible. All his poems manifest in the man a spirit of genuineness and deep sincerity. With this conviction, then, that Burns wrote exactly as he saw, thought, and felt, we can be certain that the social qualities which his poems suggest are identical with those he really pos-sessed. Our investigation, then, involves an answer to the question, What social qualities do Burns' poems make us think he pos-sessed ? With this answered, we then know, with some measure of accuracy, what Burns himself was socially—what it was that, in all probability, must have rendered him an ever-welcome guest both in the humble homes of the Scottish peasantry and in the mansions of the gentry. But in order that we may be competent judges as to what features in his social nature were attractive and 72 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY what were not, we must make allowance for the differences in time, place, and circumstances, and view the matter, not from oicr point of view, but from the standpoint of his Scottish contempo-raries. Only then can we avoid the danger of an over or an under estimation of the man's social constitution. We have already spoken of what we regard as the crowning social virtue of any man—sincerity. "L,et a man but speak forth with genuine earnestness the thought, the emotion, the actual condition of his own heart, and other men must and will give heed to him."* Burns, as we have stated, does this. We here have a certain quality which would of itself draw men to its possessor. A writer whose poetic works are imbued throughout with the truth must himself have been sincere. Burns must have attracted his fellows because of this one social quality, if for nothing else. The whole world loves a patriot. Even those of other nations than his own admire him; but especially his own countrymen. Burns' poems indicate the presence of patriotism in the heart of their author. Compare his stanzas with those of former Scottish bards, and what do we find ? The subjects of their themes are foreign, and they even scout their own native dialect. The poeti-cal works of Burns are the initial achievement of a new era in his nation's literature. He is the first to give out a body of dis-tinctively Scottish poetry. He saw no need to step beyond the borders of his own laud for things of which to sing. He writes of things, not English, or Irish, or Continental, but of things Scottish—thoroughly so, from his country's ' 'braes'' to her moun-tains, from her field-mice to her horses, from her beggars to her kings, from her daisies to her trees, from her " burns" to her rivers; all of his own "bonnie laud." Nor does he hesitate to take the initiative of using the language of his fireside; not, however, because he was unable to write in pure English. Some of his poems show that he could. But he prefers his native tongue, and seems to delight in the use of its quaint expressions. He appears proud of his dialect, and all he describes with it. In almost every poem there breathes the true spirit of patriotism, a quality which we believe helped to make his society desirable. What Scotchman could have avoided a feeling of attraction to the "loyal native" who wrote such things * ♦Carlyle. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 73 .'* ' j as "My Heart's in the Highlands" or "Scots wha hae wi' Wal-lace bled?" Another social characteristic is revealed in his verses; a trait indispensable to gaining the good-will of the Scottish peasantry. How generously he applies himself to the faithful interpretation of the thoughts, feelings and manners of that class amongst whom he was reared ! His poetry teems with this natural sympathy for the lowly inhabitant of the thatched cottage. His were the first Scottish poems to show it, and from it we can be sure that the man himself thoroughly loved the humble people of whom he writes. How nobly he exalts their simple lot in the words he puts into the mouth of Luath, "the ploughman's collie" in "The Twa Dogs." In the "Cotter's Saturday Night" he brings to the notice of the humble bread-winners, not the ills, but the blessings of their toilsome lives. He would make them proud of their station and their labor. He appears at all points to have been a thorough democrat, and evidently was in close touch with the lives of the poorest people. It is such qualities as these that hold men in social esteem, with thehighas well as the low. A highly sympathetic nature was a social trait which undoubtedly helped to make Burns popular. Cheerfulness is a prime essential to social success. A glance convinces us that the man who wrote these poems surely had this attribute. Such a one must have cheered the lives and bright-ened the very faces of those with whom he came in contact. At every turn we meet his genial poetic laughter. And this, too, in the same poems in which he tells of his own misfortunes. To be happy in adversity; what an enviable trait! And if he could shake off his coil of pitiful thought and recognize the good things in his own life, he surely would shed some beams of happiness on the lives of those about him. All his songs attest this quality. "When at his best, you seem to hear the whole song warbling through his spirit, naturally as a bird's."* Note it in this stanza: "Ye banks land braes o' bonnie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair? How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary, fu' o' care?" A vein of humor makes its possessor welcome. "I,augh, and the world will laugh with you." Doubtless Burns' little world "Jeffrey. 74 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY enjoyed many a laugh with him. For some of his poems fairly bubble with humor. And the author of these must have exhibited a like trait when he spoke, as well as when he wrote. We realize this when we "Remember Tarn O'Shauter's Mare;" or read the following from "Death and Dr. Hornbook": "The Clachan yill had made me canty, I was nae fou, but just had plenty; I stacher'd whyles, but yet took tent ay To free the ditches; An' hillocks, stanes, an' bushes, kenn'd ay Frae ghaists and witches. "The rising- moon began to glow'r The distant Cumuock hills out owre; To count her horns wi' a' my pow'r, I set mysel'; But whether she had three or four, I could na tell." These and many other poems, manifest in Burns himself a spirit of jocularity which, we believe, heightened the attractive-ness of his nature wherever he went. That a man was a friend of "John Barleycorn" was no social defect in Burns' day. And he'seems, from his poems, to have been a participant in "those convivial enjoyments which were not only counted excusable by the temper of the time, but gloried in by all whose heads were strong enough to indulge in them without ruin."* In fact, as a "total, abstainer" Burns' social career would likely have been curtailed. It is perfectly natural, therefore, that he gives drink and drinking a very prominent place in his verses. And the fact that he does so leads us to conclude that he was a not infrequent participant in the then prevalent jolly tavern carouses. Many evidences in his poems manifest his inclination toward convivial enjoyments of a more healthy character. He seems to have had a fondness for other gatherings than those where the consumption of "usquebae" was the central feature. We refer to such social functions as he speaks of in his "Hallow E'en." He evinces perfect familiarity with the jolly practices of that mysterious night, as he describes the mirthful sports of the country "lads and lasses." In fact, his frequent description of J *Blackwood'6. Feb., 1872. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 75 such scenes convinces us that he must have been an important member of the peasant society of his locality. But we see evidences that he would also make a valuable ad-dition to a higher plane of society than that of his own country-side. The mere fact that he was able to produce such remarkable verses is enough to show that he was fitted to move on a higher level than that of the peasant class. We can treat only briefly of a few of the many manifest traits which, besides those already cited, would make him a social attraction in the hall as well as in the hut. It is hard to prove conclusively from his poems that Burns was a good conversationalist. But we think there are indications that warrant us in believing that he was. The ease with which we understand the thoughts he wishes to convey in his lines, i. e., his extreme simplicity, together with his vivacity of expression and his powers of vivid description, lead us to think that he was a good talker. Nor would such a writer be at a loss for topics for conversation. He seems perfectly familiar with the full details of an immense variety of topics. Burns undoubtedly was at perfect ease in conversation. A keen insight into human nature, as we see it in his verses, would enable him to throw himself quickly into close sympathy with new associates; an almost invaluable social quality. His oft-appearing spirit of independence would gain him respect. The thoughtful tenderness he exhibits, not only for his fellow-men, but for beasts and flowers, too, suggests a feature in his nature which would draw men to him. Thus we see in his poetry, char-acteristics which would make his company acceptable to those of high rank. Of Burns' actual social successes in a certain direction, we have positive evidence. The great majority of his poems are con-cerning women with whom he has been in love, or at least ad-mired greatly. And we can easily see that, if not as a lover, at least as an admirer, he was accepted in .some cases. At any rate, we can judge from these poems that he had sufficient attractions to make him acceptable among the lasses of his native land. This gives us a clue, though an uncertain one, to his personal appear-ance and manners. To have been admired by so many women, he must have been to some degree attractive in looks and move-ments. 76 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURi Thus far we have considered only those things in Burns for which he was undoubtedly admired. But he shows traits that we cannot believe were acceptable to all of his contemporaries, for he refers in different passages to the fact that he had enemies. Certainly there were some who did not admire all he did; but just as we are limited in giving all his good qualities, by the fact that he does not make manifest in his poems all the traits he really pos-sessed, so are we limited, but to a greater degree, in observing all his bad qualities; for though he constantly confesses that he had monstrous faults, he has not specified what the particular immor-alities were that he committed, and we cannot know all these without referring to his biography. However, he does exhibit definitely some traits which, we believe, would be hindrances to his free movement among all classes of society. Profanity may have been attractive to his tavern associates, but must have been a shock to the strict piety which we know prevailed in his community. Reference to "Holy Willie's Prayer" manifests a spirit approaching blasphemy, an indication that the poet himself was probably not averse to the use of strong expressions by word of mouth, as well as pen. As a sincere man, Burns was a hater of hypocrisy, upon which subject he wrote several poems. But this feeling leads him into a fault. The satires he has written against hypocrites are too bitter to be commended. Were we to see only those works, we would have little desire to meet their writer. The acrimony of his invective seems unreasonable and repulsive, rather than at-tractive. We have mentioned Burns' drinking habits; but though we have no direct testimony in his poems that he himself was over indulgent, yet some of the scenes he depicts make clear that he must have been present at them, or he could not have described them so well. He at least practically confesses that he frequented places and associated with persons of low repute. Whether it is likely that he indulged in the orgies he describes, the reader can judge from the evidence. Such tendencies as these thus indi-cated certainly did not at that time constitute admirable social qualities. That Burns was positively vulgar, we must admit. A look into certain of his poems, which we do not deem fit to make more public by quoting them here, will convince us of this. It is seen, THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 77 for instance, in certain lines of ' 'The Kirk's Alarm.'' A betrayal of such lack of decency, in the eyes of some, would seriously affect his social character. Though to many persons the absence of Christian qualities in a man would be no social objection, yet we must be of the opinion that Burns' great lack in this regard would form a barrier to his entrance into close acquaintance with many persons at his time. We are sorry to admit that such a genius, in all his works, shows no spirit of true devotion to his Creator and His Son. Probably a closer inspection of Burns' lines would manifest more qualities wherein he would be attractive or not; but we think we have drawn from his poems enough of both kinds to indicate whether or not he deserved to be popular. It is our decision that his good far outweigh his bad social qualities. We believe that were Burns' biography to be forever lost, with noth-ing but his poems for grounds from which to reason, the world today, were he to come back again, would greet him—just as Scotland would have done immediately after his death—with open arms. And we would welcome him, if for nothing else, because of his social qualities as manifested in his poems. THE CULTIVATION OP PATRIOTISM FRANK LBNKER, '03 HPO have a thorough understanding of the subject one must ^ necessarily have a full and true conception of the meaning of the word patriotism. Patriotism is—" L,ove and devotion to one's country, the spirit that originating in love of country prompts to obedience to its laws, to the support and defense of its exist-ence, rights and institutions and to the promotion of its welfare." From the definition of the word it is readily seen that without patriotism no good government can exist and by as much as the people of a nation are patriotic or unpatriotic, by so much that nation will be either pre-eminent or debased in the galaxy of nations. Patriotism is of different kinds. It is patriotism that leads a man to shoulder his musket and amid storms of applause and the entrancing strains of his national air to dare to fight for his country's honor. It is still greater patriotism that enables him to endure 78 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY the privations and hardships of a severe campaign and which enables him, when some very daring service is required, willingly to lay down his life. It is patriotism that a man displays when for a season he leaves the pleasures of his home, neglects his business and exposes himself to the censure of those opposed to him, to become a voice of the people in the nation's council. But only the true statesman, the man who stands for right and principle against personal interests, displays this patriotism. Then, too, anyone may be a true patriot. He need not be a soldier, he need not be a statesman, but one thing Me must be—a man—a man true and firm, a man of high principle and lofty sent-iments and above all he must dare to stand by the right. If each one should place his country's welfare above his struggle for per-sonal gain and aggrandizement, what a powerful nation such men would constitute. It is acknowledged that there is no power equal to the mother's in shaping the characters and disposition of the young. If the solemn duties and obligations of motherhood could but be more strongly intrenched in the minds of those who have assumed the positions of wives and mothers, patriotism would surely become a more self-sacrificing and deep-seated kind. Mothers should endeavor to bring their children up to maturity even-minded and devoted to their country and to their God. Early in life children should be taught to reverence the starry ensign—the symbol of their freedom, to respect the nation's laws —safeguards of their liberty, and above all to know our history. Let them know how the nation was established on a foundation of right, cemented with the blood of some of the noblest men who ever lived. Let them know how, when the nation was in its in-fancy, our statesmen studied and planned so that laws tending only to progress might be promulgated. Let them know how gallantly our warriors punished England's insult to that banner, which so long as the true American spirit prevails will tell of the freedom of our nation and assure every American citizen protec-tion abroad or a speedy vengeance if molested. It should not be forgotten to tell them of the Civil War which for a time threatened to disrupt the Union. Tell them how the North was arrayed against the South and how bravely brother engaged brother to the death. But most emphatically tell them that each fought for principle. They fought not concerning petty THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 79 matters but rather concerning deep-rooted belief that each was right. Then review how at first there seemed to be bitter feeling, then gradually take them through the intervening space of time and at last show them how gloriously a united, a thoroughly . united and closely associated baud of men, representing the North, South, East and West, defeated the cruel Spaniards on San Juan hill. Our young should also be led to hate the greatest curse of the nation, they should be taught to abhor the greatest enemy of true manhood and upright living—the moral-debasing and character-weakening rum. Can a drunkard be a true patriot? No, most decidedly not. For how can a man who weakens himself morally, physically and mentally by using the vile stuff offer his ablest and best services to his country either as a statesman, a soldier, or as an exemplary private citizen. Double-dealing, rottenness and corporation influence in politics is another great evil and the one which probably above all others might possibly cause the downfall of these United States. Oh, would that some of our statesmen were more honorable men, would that they were more stalwart warriors in the defense of right and more zealous to forward measures drawn up for the public good rather than for personal gain and advantage ! L,et those, in whose power it is to elect the law-makers, cast their ballots for none but honest men. Then, with an honorable man guiding the ship of state, and none but honorable men on the crew, how can it be otherwise than that a more patriotic spirit would be displayed in the next generation. We turn our sad, reluctant gaze Upon the path of duty; Its barren, unwilling' ways Are void of bloom and beauty. Yet in that road, though dark and cold, It seems as we begin it As we press on—I/O ! we behold- There's Heaven in it. —Ella Wheeler Wilcox. 80 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY SUPERLATIVES J. B. BAKER,'01 WHEN, in accusing Peter of affiliation with Jesus of Nazareth, the morbid scions of Jewish authority, said "Thy speech bewrayeth thee," they described a condition of more than local interest. The sentiment their charge embodied has outlived the perverted Sanhedrin. It prevails to-day and applies to us. We are the heirs of a rich language; londled were we in the lap of opulence and children of fortune are prone to squander. Our language, being as it is a composite one, necessarily, by the survival of the fittest, contains the accumulated grace and vigor of its varied progeny. Its verbs express accurately every shade of human thought, even to the antipodal range of a Shakespeare. Its nouns are like the notes of a pianoforte, so varied is their tone. Its adjectives, in their several degrees embellish even that which already is sublime. They are the grace notes in the vernacular strains and of all things the most difficultly used. The proper adaptation of an adjective, even in the positive de-gree, to its corresponding noun is of itself a task of no mean im-port; the comparative requires more skill, while the superlative, like a run of extras on a key board, is accomplished gracefully, only by a practiced man. And yet how prone we are to use them. With what readiness we carry every thing to a ne plus ultra. Why is it thus? Wherein lies the cause ? Emerson has probably answered it, in his essay on history, without intending directly to do so. After a short disser-tation on the various nations that have come and gone over the highway of time, he says, "But I will make no more account of them. I believe in Eternity, I can find Greece, Palestine, Italy, Spain, the islands, the genius and creative principle ofeach andall eras in my own mind." The much-travelled man does not call each high hill a cloud-piercing peak, nor does he speak of every landscape as nature's last attempt. Those are the foibles of childhood. The evolutions of such whose peregrinations have not as yet translated them be-yond their native shire. Precisely the same is true in the world of thought. The cos-mical mind uses few superlatives. The farther out it pushes into unknown tracts, the more it discovers of hitherto unrevealed re-ality, the closer appears its affinity with it, and with that increasing THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 81 identity there comes an increasing frugality of terms. He who has thoroughly established his identity with all reality could not possibly predicate a superlative of any thing without paying his own self an indirect compliment, and this, if report be true, is of all things the most odious to men of a larger growth. So much' so at least that they will use them stintingly, save only as applied to Divinity. As proof of this we need but resort to the sayings and writings of such great men. The genial paternal Emerson is judiciously sparing even in the use of his comparatives and yet there \s an ex-hilarating loftiness in all his thoughts. The many sided Ruskin speaks most frequently in simple, homely, childlike terms, and yet Carlyle compared his words to copious lightning bolts pour-ing incessantly into the black words of anarchy about him. Tolstoi, whose boldness has incurred the hostility of the Russian royalty, seldom calls things by their hardest names, yet his pen is a very scramasax in the side of monarchial iniquity. Nor is this abstemiousness from any thing that smacks of hy-perbole a characteristic only of him who sits down quietly at his desk and writes in his pacific words. It is characteristic of great men everywhere. Even in the forum, tempest-tossed and raging. The men who kindled and maintained the fires of patriotism through seven years of blood strife were men whose speech was as plain as their garb. A few months training in a country school and a six weeks course in law would not be likely to embellish much the speech of any one. But "give me liberty or give me death" had a potency that added superlatives could not augment. Daniel Webster, in that paragon of American philippics, his reply to Senator Hayne, is deadliest when he is plainest. His unadorned arrows are the swiftest. Lincoln, the great, in his speech on these hallowed grounds, gives us not only a model in structure well worth study, but manifests a chastity in terms seldom seen. Not once, in referring to the war in which we were then engaged, does he use an extravagant term such as thousands of others might with apparent justification have employed, and yet there is an Alpine sublimity pervading it all. So we might continue our citation almost indefinitely, pushing our observations out even beyond the confines ofour native tongue; including all ages past and present, all lands and climes, and find the great men every where corroborating the truth. The greater 82 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY the man, the smaller will things appear, and with the diminution of things will come a corresponding frugality of terms; deducting from this the converse and we have in very truth the modern ap-plication of those ancient words, "Thy speech bewrayeth thee." PERSEVERANCE EMORY D. BREAM, '02 T^HE old saying, " A rolling stone gathers no moss," has been * illustrated so often, and in so many ways, that when we see a young man going from one thing to another, not following one pursuit long enough to overcome its difficulties, we at once con-clude that he will never amount to much. The youth who comes to college with the intention of being a doctor, a lawyer, or having in view some other profession, and when he encounters difficulties in Greek, mathematics and other hard studies, has not the conquering spirit to master them, shows to a marked degree the lack of persistency. Or if, during his college course, he is swayed from his purpose, and decides to take a special course because he has failed in some department, or there is in the regular course a laborious, abstract subject which he dislikes, and which he has not the courage to attempt, it is evi-dent that he will never be well prepared to face the more difficult problems of life. Hence, instead of steering to a position of trust and honor, he will drift down the stream along with thousands of aimless beings like himself. On the other hand, the young man who chooses a worthy and honorable calling because he knows it is right and noble to do so; because he knows that to attain the desired end he will have to work long and hard; if such a young man will do with his might what his hand findeth to do, and, like Henry Clay, Daniel Webster or Abraham Lincoln, overcome every obstacle that comes in his way, each victory won will strengthen and encourage him for something higher. With such persistency he is bound to make life a success. The boy who enters life as a clerk, and looks forward to the time when he will be a prominent business man, lending a help-ing hand to the needy, using his influence in every good cause or having some other worthy aim, and takes for his motto this I THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 83 proverb of Solomon, "Seest thou a man diligent in his business? He shall stand before kings;" the boy who enters a blacksmith shop, determined to hammer out, as it were, link by link the very chain by which he is to be raised to honor and usefulness; if such boys keep in mind the life of Iceland Stanford or P. D. Armour or Clem. Studebaker, never dreaming of failure, future genera-tions will not fail to call them blessed. The drummer-boy who says to himself, '' I shall not always beat the drum. I will rise just as high as my talents or the neces-sities of war will permit;" the youthful soldier behind the gun, who performs faithfully every duty, no matter how small it may be; if within his breast burns the spirit of patriotism ; if he feel that faithful work insures success, and that success means that a man must make the best possible use of his God-given talents for the benefit of his fellow-men; if he never allow himself to be deceived nor turned from the path of martial glory by spending his time, strength and money in the regimental saloon; if such drummer-boys and soldiers take as their ideal Paul Jones or An-drew Jackson or Ulysses Grant, their names will be recorded on the pages of history. To-day there is a greater need than ever for able men in the pulpit; for h°nest cashiers in our banks; for upright and noble statesmen, who do not enter politics for money or the gratifying of selfish desires; for truly patriotic generals and admirals, like him who was called "Father of His Country," and who will not, after the war is over, fill the columns of our newspapers with abominable wrangling as to who won certain battles, Santiago for instance, or who will be promoted-and who will not. We shall be needed. Our future depends upon the present. To make the best use of our present opportunities, we must per-severe. "Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, As the swift seasons roll! Leave thy low-vaulted past! Let each new temple, nobler than the last, Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, Till thou at length art free, Leaving' thine out grown shell by life's unresting sea." —The Chambered Nautilus. 84 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY A DUTCH SCHOOLMASTER'S ADVENTURE A. 0. WOLF, '04' SOME eighty years ago, in the vicinity of the little village of Gettysburg, there lived two celebrated characters. One a long, lank, ungraceful Dutch schoolmaster by the name of Joseph Sleutsenslizer, who wielded the birch in a most prolific manner and who was noted for his arrant cowardice and marked suscepti-bility to feminine influences; the other, Mike Miller by name, a type of Herculean manhood, famed for his ability to break the most vicious horse, and for a diposition to indulge in all the pranks and roguish proceedings-of the most recklessly disposed element of the mischievous young men among whom he lived. It so happened that these worthies were rival suitors for the hand of the village belle. Their antagonism had attained to such proportions that our friend Joseph had felt himself constrained to exert his influence to prevent his rival from receiving an invita-tion to a ball which was to be held at a neighbor's home some distance south of the village. For thus, the schoolmaster argued to himself, he would be able to anticipate the advances of his rival and to monopolize the society of the fair one in question. His plans had worked well. The revelry was over. The tracing and retracing of the woof and weft of the dizzy dance by the light of the roaring logs had ended. The dingy rafters had ceased to ring with peals of girlish laughter and strains of the violin. The swish, swish of fantastic feet was no longer heard. Echo from her rocky cavern stepped forth perplexed at the sudden transformation. A scamper for wraps, a change from almost tropic heat to the crisp atmosphere of a November night, and the terpsichorean revelers bid adieu to their host and the dancing. As they trudge homeward beneath the brilliant emblazonry of a star-lit sky, oceans of midnight air poured over the mountains into the forest-covered valley making its branches groan with forebodings of the coming storm. The maidens became startled at the demoniacal laughter of some melancholy night-bird only to give the attentive swains an opportunity for reassuring them. Jest is passed from couple to couple, and their hilarious spirits find vent in snatches of song and in pertinent thrusts of wit. At the fork of the road they separate with a hasty "good night" and a counter ejaculation of unthought-of-until-the-last-moment inter-rogations hurled at each receding party. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 85 Joseph was now reaping the fruit of his well laid scheme, as, with the fairest of the fair maids in the little village on his arm, he turned to the right on the road that leads past Devil's Den. His heart beat wildly for it was rarely that he had the opportunity of enjoying the society of the beautiful but somewhat reticent maid. In fact, the society of others seemed preferable to his own. This made him gloat over his good fortune as an ogre would gloat over his cannibal repast. The infatuated schoolmaster failed to conceive himself anything but a brilliant courtier in at-tendance on the object of his affection. Moreover, his bigotry would not permit him to offer his awkward, uncouth appearance and decidedly rustic air in striking contrast to the trim figure of his companion, as a possible explanation of her reticence and her disposition to indulge in a peculiar sort of suppressed laughter. Suddenly she became communicative and deftly turned the drift of their conversation on ghosts, hobgoblins and other super-stitious fancies so dear to the heart of the early Dutch settler. Oh, what's that ! she cried, clasping his arm in terror. His heart stood still. But just then a passing breeze rustled the dead leaves on a bush by the roadside which she had mistaken for the crouching figure of some wanderer from Spiritland. After this his aroused imagination saw ghosts innumerable; headless hobgoblins and winged fairies. Even the murky air seemed teeming with imaginary hosts. The drift of his com-panion's conversation by no means tended to allay his trepida-tion. In a fearful whisper she told him of a time when her father passed along that very road after nightfall, and how a horned creature with gleaming eyes and nostrils that breathed forth sheets of flame snatched him up and was bearing him away. It became frightened at the wild cry of a panther, dropped him half dead and galloped into a cavern in the adjacent hillside. Again, she related the story of the adventure of a certain deacon which happened at the rocks which they were then Hear-ing. The deacon was going home from a visit to a sick neighbor and on passing the rocks he heard an unearthly crash and felt the rock on which he stood heave under him. Thunder pealed. The sky was kindled by a lurid blaze. The ground was on flame, and fiery torrents came down in tumultuous avalanches. The rocks melted and the valley assumed the aspect of a basin of glowing ore. He bounded with the speed of the wind through the raging 86 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY conflagration. The sulphurous molten tide pursued him, spouting white columns of vapor and sheets of vitreous lava. As he ran, it gained speed on him; when he bounded, the spot Irom which he sprang was on fire before he alighted on the ground. At length he sank exhausted, but the indefatigable lava rolled on like armies rushing to battle. Suddenly the earth quaked and a fissure appeared, out of which leaped a compan}' of devils as if shot from a subterranean catapult. The foremost, whose stature was as that of a tree, advanced and with a claw-like hand had picked him up and was about to hurl him into the bottomless pit. The deacon recollecting himself cried, "Get thee behind me, Satan,'1 which so enraged his captor that, with a horrible roar, he hurled him through the air with such force that he continued his aerial course until he lauded on his own door step. Joseph was now fully aware of his danger. His natural cow-ardice prompted him to cast his eyes in every nook and cranny of that mass of rocks which now bears such a sinister name, and from which he firmly expected to see the beginning of a sponta-neous combustion which would overwhelm him. Nor had he long to wait. Just as they came opposite the rock a blood-curd-ling yell resounded which would have put to shame a vociferous Comanche brave. By a sudden contraction and relaxation of his muscles, Joseph was elevated some three or four feet in the air. He turned to look for his companion, but she was fleeing with the speed of a whirlwind and giving vent to that series of ex-quisitely rendered screeches, in which startled women delight to indulge. Another whoop from the rock, accompanied by the rattle of chains and clank of iron, and Joseph's knees began to strike each other in a remarkable manner. He looked up, and there on the summit of the rock stood his Satanic Majesty plainly outlined against the stony vault. To the excited beholder he seemed panoplied in all the regal habiliments of a prince of the nether world. His hoofs and horns gleamed in the starlight, and from his eyes scintillated the fiery sparks of his wrath. The poor pedagogue was in a serious predicament. His limbs moved convulsively. His hair rose and with it his hat, allowing the cool breeze to fan his throbbing forehead. His heart palpitated wildly. His breath came in short quick gasps. Hoping that he was in some horrible nightmare, and that his visitor would soon vanish, he looked up. His majesty was de- I THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 87 liberately stepping to the edge of the rock where he tore a tree from its roots, and with a sepulchral roar leaped headlong, with the tree in his grasp, upon the terrified Joseph. The branches of the tree struck him and bore him to the earth. His tormentor leaped upon him, kicked him, pulled his hair, spat upon him, at the same time producing the most hideous noises. Tired of his diversion, he threw the trunk of the tree across the breast of the prostrate pedagogue and started, roaring like an enraged buffalo, in pursuit of the fleeing girl. A rescuing party, aroused by the clamor, came and released the terror-stricken Joseph and heard his fabulous tale. Their mirth knew no bounds. And ever after when the irate school-master was asked to relate his adventure at the Devil's Den he would exclaim, "Vat ! you dink a Dutchman's a geece, hugh ! Do you dink I shust come over tomorrow ?" This, dear reader, is how Devil's Den came to be so named. Again the sun is over all, Again the robin's evening call Or early morning lay; I hear the stir about the farms, I see the earth with open arms, I feel the breath of May. Century Magazine. Oh, the merry May has pleasant hours, And dreamily they glide, As if they floated like the leaves Upon a silver tide. The trees are full of crimson buds, And the woods are full of birds, And the waters flow to music, Like a song with pleasant words. Willis. & There is something grander than the ocean, and that is con-science; something sublimer than the sky, and that is the interior of the soul. —Victor Hugo. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY Entertd at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class matter VOL. X GETTYSBURG, PA., MAY, 1901 No. 3 E. C. RUBY, 'Oi, Editor-in-Chief R. ST. CLAIR POFFENBARGER,' 02, Business Manager J. F. NEWMAN, '02, Exchange Editor Assistant,-E.d,.it.ors Advisor•*y Board . -K, o ,"-. PROF. J. A. HIMES, A. M., LIT. D. M. IS"S "ANNIE M. .S"W" ARTZ, '02 _ " _ " ." ~ PROF. G. D. STAHLEY, M. D. A. B. RICHARD, '02 _ T _. _ ' -. PROF. J. W. RICHARD, D. D. Assistant Business Manager CURTIS E. COOK, '03 Published each month, from October to June inclusive, by the joint literary societies of Peuusj'lvania (Gettysburg-) College. Subscription price, One Dollar a year in advance; single copies Fifteen Cents. Notice to discontinue seudiug the MERCURY to any address must be accompanied by all arrearages. Students, Professors, and Alumni are cordially invited to contribute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Business Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. EDITORIALS '"pHE first day of May was once a festival in honor of an Ameri- *■ can "saint," canonized simply by popular acclamation. Our colonial troops deprived themselves of the patronage of St. George by their rebellion, and at once they looked about for a saint of their own. Their choice fell on Tamina, a sagamore of the Delaware Indians, who, tradition says, bad whipped satan. Naturally the soldiers concluded that the conqueror of satan could also overcome St. George. The name of St. Tamina was in-scribed upon the banners of the colonial troops and on the first day of May celebrations were held in his honor. These celebra-tions were a combination of the Indian war dance and the old English May Day frolics. The May-pole was crowned with a THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 89 liberty cap, and bore a tomahawk instead of the garlands of flowers used to decorate the English May-pole. The army was not alone in doing honor to the "saint." Poets sang of his virtues. His life was dramatized and appeared on the stage in many places. Societies, which usually took the place of the modern club, were formed under his name. In England it was customary, on the first day of May, to wear a sprig of green gathered in the early morning and worn all day. This sprig was called the " May." The narrow-leaved elm and the hawthorn were the trees from which the sprig was usually taken. The expedition into the grove after it was called " going a-Maying," and the carrying of it home was " bringing in the May." The erecting of a May-pole, the young men and maidens dancing around it with flowers and song, and the choosing of the most attractive maiden as the " Queen of the May," to whom homage was paid as long as the day lasted, were characteristic features in the observance of May Day. This festival was quite general in England until the Puritans of the Commonwealth put a stop to it and uprooted the May-poles. It was again revived after the Restoration, but has now nearly, if not entirely, died out. In the New England States this same festival had been observed for a short time. Here it was also opposed by the Puritans, who regarded it as an emblem of satanic rule. In such an atmosphere it could not flourish long, and soon became a thing of the past. The custom of giving " May baskets," however, survived a little longer, and for aught we know may still be observed in some places. A basket, tastefully arranged with flowers, was left by the love-sick swain at the door of his lady-love; children tied baskets and bouquets on the door-knob of the house wherein dwelt their playmates, and friends remembered each other by gifts and flowers on May Day morning. r"pHEPvE is a surprising lack of knowledge in regard to *■ South America, its people and their ways. There is more known of Europe, Asia and Africa than of South America, once an echo of Spain in her glory and the home of a brave people con-quered by treachery and deceit. When we do study its history at all, we start with its discovery and almost abruptly end there. 90 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY Perhaps it is because we do not have so much in common as we have with the people of other countries that we know so little about the people, but it would be better to be more familiar with the doings and character of the people who live on the same side of the world as we do. We usually regard South America as made up of a number of little republics always at odds and the people as indolent and uneducated. We might change our minds some-what if we knew more about them. The natural resources of the country are worth study also, the magnificent mountain-ranges, the valuable forests and mines, the rivers and bays, the fertile plains equal to any which nature has ever bestowed on any country. —S. AN OLD READER CHAS. W. WEISKB, '01 I picked up an old school reader, Which up on the attic lay, Covered with the dust of ages, Brown with mold and decay. I opened its well-worn pages— They were soiled and marked with grime, By the little hands which used them In a by-gone, happy time. And out came the flood of memory, "With a rush, a flutter and sweep, And I lived those days all over— Those days ere I climbed life's steep. Aye! there was the old brown school house, With its warped and beaten floor, And there were the old wooden benches, Arid the old thumb-latch on the door. And there was the rude cut initial, Carved on the desk and seat, And under the forms the shuffling Of stout-booted restless feet. Around me arose a murmur, A chatter and whisp'ring gay, The humming of happy children, In the school beside the way. But the cold winds weirdly sighing, Awoke me from my dream; The present lay before me— Iafe's bright and silvery stream. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 91 PICTURES MARY C. SIELING, '03 HPHERE are pictures not painted with the brush of the artist. * The hills, the valleys, the sky, the rivers—all the works of God—what are they to him that see, aught but so many beautiful pictures ? How the hills, with their trees rising rank above rank, brighten the valleys between them. What artist can imitate the delicate shade of their green ? What colors mixed by man are so beautiful as their red and gold in autumn, and in what picture hung in our houses is there expressed the desolation of those same hills in winter, when the trees are bare and the winds moan through their branches ? The stream sings through the valley, hurrying on to the sea. The sunbeams dance upon the waters, making the scene still more pleasing, while the flowers along its banks add to its,beauty. All this is a beautiful picture, and it fills our hearts with peace. In the sky, too, there are pictures. The heavens are a moving panorama. The blue of the noon-day sky is to the sight what far-off beautiful music is to the ear. It fills us with a vague longing, and turns our thoughts to what is high and spiritual. The sunset is the most beautiful of all pictures, for do not the rifted clouds, bordered in gold, with the splendor spreading from them, seem like outer battlements of heaven when the inner gates are opened ? These pictures are around us and above us day after day. They gladden us, purify us and uplift us. He who can copy these pictures on canvas is the painter, and that man is the best painter who can most com-pletely forget himself and yield his soul and his hand to the Mas-ter of all paintings, content to let himself be the means through which the copies of the paintings, engraved deep on his own soul, are made to stand out on canvas. Raphael painted his beautiful Madonna because, in his mind, there was a beautiful picture of the purity and love of the mother of Jesus, and this picture was his, not only from a study of the Bible, but from the memory of his own pure and noble mother. Michael Angel o, who in the age in which Christian art had reached its zenith, stood almost unrivaled as a painter, sculptor, architect and poet. He painted and carved as never man painted and carved before or since, because he more fully than other men let nature and the God of nature speak through his life and his hand. 92 THE GETTYSBURG MEBCURY But artists are not the only men who try to copy these pictures which God has painted. The poets and prose writers also paint pictures, not with brush and palette, but with words in writing. "The Great Stone Face," how clearly we see with Hawthorne the long valley with the great family of lofty mountains beyond, the great face of stone carved in the side of the mountain, the people of the valley. Ernest, who, as a boy and man, looked through a long life for the face that should resemble the great face carved in stone, and who should thus fulfill a tradition of the valley ! With him we look into the face of the rich man, warrior and poet, and with him we are saddened to find in each one something lacking, but with the people we shout to see at last that he, Ernest himself, is the man who resembles the great stone face. But these pictures drawn by prose writers and painters, in the end mean to us only as much as we put into them. We cannot enjoy a poem or a painting of a forest stream unless we ourselves have felt the restfulness and delightful coolness of a streamlet murmuring over the pebbles under the shade of the overhanging trees, nor will the most beautiful pictured children Millias appeal to us before we have learned in some way the beauty and inno-cence of childhood. Thus in truth, all the pictures, of which we have spoken, depend on the great painter, Nature. But every-body is to a certain extent an artist, because everybody is paint-ing a picture called character. This picture is of more importance in the sight of God and to us than any other kind of picture. Upon this picture depends our happiness hereafter. Some people are trying hard to paint the picture well, while others handle the brush so carelessly that in the end the picture is a mere daub. There are a few men whose characters stand out above others like the paintings of the mas-ters. We should study these pictures, and let the beauty of their character enter into our own lives. If you would teach a boy self-poise, coolness of judgment and majesty of character, let him read about George Washington. If you would have him sincere, looking through the glamour of symbols to the things beneath, let him study long and well the lives of such men as Socrates and Lincoln. But if you would have him to be a true man, rounded, combining all virtues, let THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 93 him study the life of Him more majestic than Washington, for He was the God of man, and more sincere than Socrates. "We should study His life until just as Ernest, by looking long and lovingly into the great stone face, grew like it in feature, we also, by looking at the picture of His character, may grow more and more like Him. SPONTANEITY IN LITERATURE J. RUSH STONER, '01 QPONTANEITY, applied to literature, may be used to desig- ^ nate that spontaneous flow of eloquence or spirit from the depth of the author's own nature, giving to literary work spice and attraction. It may have an ennobling effect, or it may have a degrading effect, according as the life and ethical ideas of the author are high or low. It constitutes the ground upon which what is commonly called good and bad literature are distinguish-able. In the higher sense it might be looked upon as inspiration in literature; in the lower sense, merely as an evil tending to de-moralize the race. All who are familiar with the poetry of Robert Burns have recognized there the naturalness with which the poet gave vent to his feelings. And with the exclusion of his coarser poems, he might be taken as a good type of authors, whose writings flow with natural freshness of pure humor, pathos and wit, appealing strongly to the higher sympathies and the nobler passions. There is in literature a force that molds the character or indi-viduality of the reader. This element, or subtle force, makes itself clearly manifest in the life principles of different individuals, through the subconscious impressions it ingrains upon the mind. For the reader, if he is in the highest sense a true reader, must be in a receptive state, imbibing the spirit and tone of the litera-ture perused. And these impressions are stored up for future reproduction in the principles of life. Enthroned thus in the ruling element of the world, this force becomes at once a power in shaping the destiny of the race. Those who are at all susceptible to literature resort to it either for rest, pleasure, instruction, or for its ennobling influence. The scientist, exhausted from his deep abstraction in the realms of nature, searching for laws and principles in large collections of 94 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY facts, comes hither to quaff from this sparkling fountain, this source of the emotional nature. It is to him a source of rest and pleasure, indispensable to his well-being, that he may draw from his life's work the best results. And, too, what wealth of in-struction is yielded to the earnest seeker after knowledge as he pries into this mine of wisdom. Above all, the ennobling effect ofgood literature is universal; experienced alike by scientist and all who come within the scope of its power. The existence of this subtle force in literature may be verified by the career of a distinguished scientist of the nineteenth cen-tury, who neglected entirely the fine arts and the reading of in-spired writings for the absorbing interests of his life's work. In this description of his own life, Darwin tells his pathetic story. He tells how in the early part of his life he took great delight in poetry and music, and then, after many years of their utter neglect, he tried to read some poetry. But he could no longer appreciate it. His mind had become a kind of machine for grinding general laws out of large collections of facts, and was so revolutionized that poetry seemed unendurably dull and even nauseating. He had lost all appreciation of the higher tastes. He says this atrophy of the emotional nature is doubtless a loss of happiness. And he expresses an intense regret that he could not have his life to live again, that he might, at regular intervals throughout his busy career, pay some attention to those things which appeal to the spiritual side of life, that this horrible atrophy in his mind might have been averted. Here was a man who accomplished a vast work in science, but his absorption in the work, and neglect of the finer arts, brought him to a painful consciousness of the reality of this element in literature, and its influence upon the reader. While there are many instances that demonstrate the reality of this force by showing the change brought about in the indi-vidual who is isolated from its influences, there are also numerous evidences of its positive influence upon the individuality of the reader. So positive is this influence, that the literature a person enjoys is an unfailing index to his character. If the mind be turned into the channels of heroic and active literature, a heroic spirit of'strong and manly principles, master of circumstances and capable of resisting the most powerful evils, is the inevitable re-sult. If, on the other hand, time is spent in devouring nonsensi- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 95 cal trash of a doubtful, or possibly degrading moral tone, you have as a reward, or rather demerit, a nerveless, sentimental tem-perament, unfit for the accomplishment of any great work, be it in the study or in life's profession. There is no more contemptible type of human character than the nerveless sentimentalist and dreamer, who spends his life in a "weltering sea of sensibility," and never does a concrete, manly deed. But, ah ! the individuality formed by contact with inspir-ing and ennobling literature ! How sublime is that character, standing firm amid the tempests, like a tower when everything rocks about it, and the weaker fellow-mortals are winnowed like chaff in the blast ! Since there is. a spontaneous force in literature exerting its influence over every reader, whether he is conscious of the fact or not, how essential it is that all current literature and fiction should be idealistic, upholding the ideal of the race; for this is the law of human progress. It would be better if the realistic novel were never published. What we want is a stalwart ideal-ism. In life " aim and ideal are everything;" so it is in litera-ture. And if these be high and just, the author is true to his profession, and will be false to no one. How great is the responsibility resting upon the author ! He may be the agency through which humanity is brought into the most exalted phase of moral excellence, or into the vilest degen-eracy, endowing the race with real wealth to promote its civiliza-tion, or bringing upon it the deadliest curse. Then let those who are looking forward to a higher order of things, social and politi-cal, equip themselves and aspire to win the favor of the people by making the idealistic literature surpass in splendor the low-grade realistic novel, as the glorious mid-day sun outshines the insignificant glow-worm. And let the unscrupulous author, who has no higher ambition than to cater to the populace, sink into oblivion beneath the weight of a refined popular taste and criti-cism. This mournful truth is everywhere confessed, Slow rises worth by poverty depressed. -Johnson. 96 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY IN NATURE'S REALM J. RUSH STONER, '01. How oft in life's deep vestige sought,— Be it in Nature's realm and throne, Where fleeting time has strata laid, And plant life quivering, by zephyrs blown, Wafts perfume o'er the sacred dead, Or in the search of truth and lore,— The Unintended lifts its head And speaks in oracles of yore! In the closing days of winter drear, When anon begins through Nature's veins To course the life of a living world, We strolled through field and rustic lanes; Enchanting for romance were they, In facts for science richer still. We searched for minerals, types of rock And phenomena caused by rippling rill. And lo! within a fractured rock A microscopic plant was seen. Perennial, delicate, tiny thing, It has of Nature's marvels been One oft escaped the human eye; A life unscathed by Aeolian breath Or Zeus' cataclysms wild, Nor felt Apollo's scorching dearth. But clinging to the rugged cliff A lonely, solitary form; In all the great, wide universe Only a little speck forlorn; Yet symmetry and order plain Are there set forth in clear design By the Supreme Intelligence, Its "Great Original," benign. A useless infinitesimal plant! But it a mission has to fill: It may proclaim the law Divine, And be of greatest value still. If it but shows that God, who keeps The stars in cosmic beauty bright, Regards the smallest forms of being, It turns on science floods of light. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 97 i And man, a spark of the Divine May see in this the message clear, That God who rules things great and small In sweet compassion holds them dear. And he may catch the inspiration, That love, the essence of the soul, Controls and rules the universe And pilots safely to the goal. A COUNTRY BARN ON A RAINY DAY D. S. Weimer, '03 TT is a warm summer morning, the folks have arisen from the long, A sweet slumbers of the night, breakfast has been prepared and served, the horses have been fed and harnessed, and all are ready to go to their respective duties, when, lo! the sky becomes dark, ened and in a short time the rain begins to descend upon the parched earth, causing the drooping plants to lift their heads, as it were, and to spread out their leaves that they may be bathed by the gentle rain. All stand wrapped in delight, as they watch the rain which has been needed so long, no one being unwilling to rest from his labor, while the gentle rain descends to replenish the earth with flowers and fruits. Soon the scene changes. The father, ever mindful ofhis duties, bids the sons go to the barn to unharness the horses. When this is done, they are told that they must go to the barn-floor and pre-pare to thresh some rye in order to have some long straw for tying the corn in the autumn. Soon the doors are thrown open and you see the boys sweeping the floor to get ready to place upon it the sheaves of grain ready for the flail. When the sweeping is completed, you see James climb thelad-der and pass into the mow, while Henry remains upon the floor to arrange the sheaves in order, one after the other, until the floor is fairly covered, when James ceases to throw them from the mow and descends to the floor and prepares to begin with the flail. Taking their flails, they step to their places, and at once begin to strike with alternate strokes, creating a great noise so that it is very difficult to be understood in speaking, but doing the work to which they were appointed with apparent ease and skill. They 98 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY labor during the long hours of the day, ceasing only when thefact that it is time to perform the regular evening duties is made known to them. From what I have said, you may infer that the "Country Barn" is, besides being a protection for the animals against the inclem-ency ofthe weather and a storehouse for grain, a kind ofworkshop, where boys are taught to improve their time and not to throw away the golden moments. We shall see that it is something more. While James and Henry are busy at their work, Willie, Ned, and Joe, who are yet too small to bear the greater burdens of life, are rolling over the hay, turning somersault, standing upon their heads, playing "Run and Jump," "Hide and Seek," and indulg-ing in other sports. Seated in the corner of the barn-floor or run-ning to and fro, or lounging in the swing made by Henry, are Jane and Nell, too selfish to engage in sport with the boys, or probably keeping away, pouting on account of some trick which the boys have served them. Thus wesee that the "Country Barn" is a shelter, a storehouse, a workshop, and a playhouse, teaching to us the lesson that the things which exist may be used for different purposes, each pur-pose in its own time, being necessary for full and complete devel-opment and advantageous to all. «f^£> ALL SOULS DAY W. H. B. CARNEY, '99. Arched above, a reefless ocean Gray of clouds; no sunny glow: Leafless trees affect no motion To the biting' winds which blow. Everywhere are solemn faces,— Father, mother, daughter, son; Over all I see the traces Of a sorrow, deep and lone. Towards God's acre slowly walking Where a loved one lies "At Rest"; Thinking all, but none are talking: Sometimes Silence speaks the best. w THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 99 On the arm a wreath of holly With white flowers wove between; But the gnawing melancholy Of the heart cannot be seen. In the churchyard there is weeping Over every ivied mound; Some have infant forms in keeping, Some by sculptor's hand are crowned. On the graves the wreaths are lying, Glistening with blood-warm tears, Tribute of a love undying, Living on through dragging years. In a homestead sits a maiden Sighing o'er a golden band ; For his grave her hands not laden; There's a trench in foreign land. In her dreams a wife is hearing Lashing waves that froth and roar; And she sees a boat that's nearing,— But it never reached the shore. • In the church is told the story How the Christ, in village Nain, Gave a widow cause to glory, Raising up her son again. While the trumpet tones are blowing All the dead in Him shall rise; And the living, those reknowing. Shall meet with them in the skies. Every desert yield the treasured, Every mountain, and the Bea, Thousands in whose deeps unmeasured Toss like leaves upon the lea. Then I see the faint hearts strengthen And the tears are wiped away; For the shadows soon will lengthen, Herald of Eternal Day. —Berlitz School of Languages, Berlin, Germany. 100 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY EXCHANGES TVTE have been pleased to receive more than the usual number " of magazines and journals from different colleges and universities during the past month, many of which visited our desk for the first time. Among these the Red and Blue, because of its neat and attractive appearance, and wealth of both poetry and prose, will always be most heartily welcomed. The Harvard Monthly is unassuming in appearance, and filled with excellent literary productions. The Nassau Literary Magazine and the University of Virginia Magazine are both entertaining as always. In addition to these, many others could be mentioned. It has been interesting to note that nearly all the magazines have given considerable space to poetical selections, and also that the number of really good prose articles is greater than dur-ing the previous month. The Lesbian Herald contains a tender and beautiful poem, "The Trailing Arbutus," whose title was probably suggested by John Burrough's poem on the" same subject. We quote the fol-lowing : " Her presence like glimmering sunshine seemed, And the soft sweet breath of the spring, The blue of her eyes was the blue of the heaven, Her voice had a gladsome ring. " Like the voice of the birds as they sing in the trees, When the sweet April shower is done, Or lift to the heavens their anthems of praise When a glad new day has begun. " But the wind swept by with a wailing moan, And the maiden so wondrous fair Was gone in her glory of summer sheen, But the prints of her feet were there. " You call it the trailing arbutus flower, A sweet breath of spring, you say, But I know the glory which gave it birth In the foot-prints left that day." The author of '' The L,ady of the L,ake '' in The Mountaineer evidently appreciates the vivacity and beauty of one of Scott's grandest productions, and thoroughly enjoys the chivalric spirit manifested by the characters. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 101 In the St. John's Collegian appears an article on " The Bible as a Text-book.'' The importance of this subject cannot be ques-tioned when we think of the efforts which are made to exclude the Bible from the curriculum of our educational institutions, and the author's very thorough discussion has our entire appro-bation . The Juniata Echo is publishing a series of articles on Porto Rico, written by Prof. M. G. Brumbaugh, Ph. D., Commissioner of Instruction in Porto Rico. These articles contain valuable information. The last issue contains an article on Martin Luther, part of which we take the liberty of quoting: " Martin Luther was the example of loyalty, the exponent of freedom, the guiding star of the Reformation, the advocate of the genuine Pauline Doctrine, and the mainstay of Christendom since the Apostles. . ******* " 'Thou, who art so great in whatever aspect we view thee, so worthy of admiration, so deserving of universal gratitude, alike great as a man, a scholar, a citizen, and a Christian', hast so in-spired us with the thought so characteristic of thy life, that he who steers his frail canoe the best, truest and noblest in the ser-vice of himself, his Alma Mater, his nation and his God; steers it longest when he receives his reward." "The Chemist's Guess" in The Free Lance teaches two important lessons—" the result of careless work " and " honesty is the best policy." J-Other exchanges to be acknowledged are: The Dickinson Lit-erary Monthly, The Susquehanna, The College Folio, The Western Ufiiversity Courant, The Catthage Collegian, The Scio Collegian, The Phoenix, The Campus and The Forum. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. C. R. SOLT MERCHANT TAILOR Masonic Bldg., GETTYSBURG Our collection of Woolens for the coming Fall and Winter season cannot be surpassed lor variety, attractive designs and general completeness. The latest styles of fashionable novelties in the most approved shades. Staples of exceptional merit, value and wearing durability. Also altering, repairing, dyeing and scouring at moderate prices. In buying don't forget the Advertisers. They support us. ESTABLISHED 1867 BY ALLEN WALTON. ALLEN K. WALTON, President and Treasurer. ROBT. J. WALTON, Superintendent. flammelstomn Bromn Stone Gompany Quarrymen and Manufacturers of Building Stone, Sawed Flagging and Tile Waltonville, Dauphin Co., Pa. Contractors for all kinds of Telegraph and Express Address. Cut Stone Work. BROWNSTONE, PA. Parties visiting the Quarries will leave cars at Brownstone Station on the P. & R. R. B. For a nice sweet loaf of Bread call on J. RAMER Baker of Bread and Fancy Cakes, GETTYSBURG. PA. EIMER & AMEND, Manufacturers and Importers of Chemicals and Chemical Apparatus 205, 207, 209 and 211 Third Avenue, Corner 18th Street NEW YORK. Finest Bohemian and German Glassware, Royal Berlin and Meissen Porcelain, Pure Hammered Platinum, Balances and "Weights. Zeiss Mi-croscopes and Bacteriological Apparatus; Chemical Pure Acids and Assay Goods. SCOTT PAPER COMPANY MAKERS OF FINE TOILET PAPER 7th and Greenwood Ave. PHILADELPHIA PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. The Century Double-Feed Fountain Pen. Fully Warranted J6 Kt. Gold Pen, Iridium Pointed. GEO. EVELER, Agent for Gettysburg College PRICE LIST. Spiral, Black or Mottled $2 50 Twist, " 2 SO Hexagon, Black or Mottled 2 SO Pearl Holder, Gold Mounted S 00 THE CENTURY PEN CO. WHITEWATER, WIS. Askjour Stationer or our Agent to show them toyon. Agood local agent wanted in every school No. 1. Chased, long or short $2 00 No. 1. Gold Mounted 3 00 No. 3. Chased 3 00 No. 3. Gold Mounted 4 00 awfwmiffmmmmwiffmiffifmrmiffmmiffifrTffffgg 7k Printing and Binding We Print This Book THE MT. HOEEY STATIONERY AND PRINTING CO. does all classes of Printing and Binding-, and can furnish you any Book, Bill Head, Letter Head, Envelope, Card, Blank, or anything pertain-ing- to their business in just as good style and at less cost than you can obtain same elsewhere. They are located among the mountains but their work is metropolitan. You can be convinced of this if you give them the opportunity. Mt. Holly Stationery and Printing Co. *SPRINGS, PA. UMkJttiUlUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUR H. S. BENNEF?, .DEALER IN. Groceries, Notions, Queensware, Glassware, Etc, Tobacco and Cigars. 17 CHAMBERSBURG ST. WE RECOMMEND THESE BUSINESS MEN. Pitzer House, (Temperance) JNO. E. PITZER, Prop. Rates $1.00 to $1.25 per day. Battlefield a specialty. Dinner and ride to all points of interest,including the th ree days' tight, $1.25. No. 127 Main Street. You will find a full line of Pure Drugs and Fine Sta-tionery at the People's Drug Store Prescriptions a Specialty. J. A. TAWNEY_^ Is ready to furnish Clubs and Boarding Houses with Bread, Rolls, Etc. At short notice and reasonable rates. Washington & Middle Sts., Gettysburg. . A. WONDERS, Corner Cigar Parlors. A full line of Cigars, Tobacco, Pipes, Etc. Scott's Corner, Opp. Eagle Hotel. GETTYSBURG, PA. M. B. BENDER Furniture IRON BEDS, MATTRESSES, SPRINGS Picture Framing" and Repair Work done Promptly 27 BALTIMORE ST. GETTYSBURG, PA. .GO TO. fyokl Gettysburg Barber Sfyop. Centre Square. B. M. SEFTON WTJ /~T\P\r\Dl Successor to . r . {JJUKJKl, Simon J.Codori Dealer in Beef, Pork, Lamb, Veal, Sausage. Special rates to Clubs. York St., GETTYSBURG. .GO TO. CHAS. E. BARBEHENN, Barber In the Eagle Hotel, Cor. Main and Washington Sts. * CHAS. S. MUMPER (Formerly of Mumper & Bender) Furniture Having opened a new store opposite W. M. R. R. Depot, will be pleased to have you call and examine goods. Picture Framing promptly attended to. Repair Work a Specialty Students' Trade Solicited FAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR US. Spalding's Official League Ball and Athletic Goods Officially adopted by the lead ing Colleges, Schools and Athletic Clubs of the Country Every Requisite for— BASE BALL FOOT BALL GOLF TENNIS ATHLETICS GYMNASIUM Spalding's Official League Ball Is the Official Ball of the National league, the princi-pal minor leagues and all the leading-college associations Handsome Catalogue of Base Ball and all Athletic Sports Eree to any address Spalding's Offi-cial Base Ball Guide for 1901, edited by Henry Ohadwick, ready March 30,1901. Price 10 cents; A. O. SPALD1NO & BROS., Incorporated NEW YORK CHICAGO DENVER ROWE, Your Grocer Carries Full Line of Groceries, Canned Goods, Etc. Best Coal Oil and Brooms at most Reasonable Prices. OPPOSITE COLLEGE CAMPUS. S. J. CODORI, ^4 Druggists Dealer in Drugs, Medicines, Toilet Articles, J* Stationery, Blank Books, Amateur Pho-tographic Supplies, Etc., Etc. BALTIMORE ST. R. H. CULP PAPER HANGER, Second Square, York Street. COLLEGE EMBLEMS. EMIL ZOTHE, ENGRAVER, DESIGNER AND MANUFACTURING JEWELER, 19 S. NINTH ST. PHILADELPHIA SPECIALTIES: Masonic Marks, Society Badges, College Buttons, Pins, Scarf Pins, Stick Pins and Athletic Prizes. All Goods ordered tltrough A. N. Beau. To Repair Broken Arti-cles use Remember MAJOR'S RUBBER CEMENT, MAJOR'S LEATHER CEMENT, Meneely Bell Co. TROY, N. Y. MANUFACTURERS OF SUPERIOR BELLS The 2000 pound bell now ringing in the tower of Pennsylvania Col-lege was manufactured at this foundry. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. The Pleased Customer Is not a stranger in our establish-ment— he's right at home, you'll see him when you call. We have the materials to please fastidious men. J. D. LIPPY, Merchant Tailor 39 Chambersburg St., Gettysburg, Pa. Try My Choice lane of ,\ High-Grade Chocolates 3 'at 40c per lb. Always fresh, at ,£ CHAS. H. McCLEARY J Carlisle St., Opposite W.M.R.R. jj Also Foreign and Domestic Fruits A i Always on Hand. B,C L. D. Miller, GROCER Confectioner and Fruiterer. Ice Cream and Oysters in Season. 19 Main St. GETTYSBURG City Hotel, Main St. Gettysburg. Free 'Bus to and from all Trains Thirty seconds' walk from either depot Dinner with drive over field with four or more, $1.35 Rates $1.50 to $2.00 per day John E. Hughes, Prop. 1 k Capitol Cit£ Cafe Cor. Fourth and Market Sts. HARRISBURG, PA. Pirst-Class Rooms Furnished. Special Rates to Private Parties. Open Day and Nig-ht. European Plan. Lunch of All Kinds to Order at the Restaurant. ALDINQER'S CAPITOL CITY CAFE. POPULAR PRICES F. Mark Bream, Dealer in Fancy and Staple Groceries Telephone 29 Carlisl e St., GETTYSBURG, PA. .Photographer. No. 3 Main St., GETTYSBURG, PENNA. Our new effects in Portraiture are equal to photos made anywhere, and at any price. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS Wright, 140-142 Woodward Avenue DETROIT, MICH. Manufacturers of High Grade Fraternity Emblems Fraternity Jewelry Fraternity Novelties Fraternity Stationery Fraternity Invitations Fraternity Announcements Fraternity Programs Send for Catalogue and Price List. Special Designs on Application. MOTEL GETTYSBURG LIVERY GETTYSBURG, PA. LONG & HOLTZWORTM, Proprietors Apply at Office in the Hotel for First-Class Guides and Teams THE BATTLEFIELD A SPECIALTY Uhe JSolton Market Square •fcartfeburg, fl>a. Earge and Convenient Sample Rooms. Passenger and Baggage Elevator. Electric Cars to and from Depot. Electric Eight and Steam Heat. J. M. & M. S. BUTTERWORTH, Proprietors Special Rates for Commer-cial Men "EZ 1ST IMMER CUT ET WAS ZU WISSEIN." These are the words of Goethe, the great German poet, and are as true in our day as when uttered. In these times of defective vision it is good to know something about eyes. A great deal has been learned about the value of glasses and their application since Goethe lived. Spectacle wearers have increased by thousands, while at the same time, persons losing their eyesight have been greatly diminished. If your eyes trouble you in any way let me tell you the cause. Examination free and prices reasonable. We grind all our own lenses and fit the best lenses (no matter what anyone else has charged you) for $2.50 per pair and as cheap as SO cents per pair, or duplicate a broken lens if we have one-half or more of the old one, at a reasonable charge, returning same day received. .E. L EGOLE. 807 and 809 North Third Street, HARRISBURG, PA. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. ^entpol Jlotel, ELIAS FISSEL, Prop. (Formerly of Globe Hotel) Baltimore Street, Gettysburg, Pa. Two doors from Court House. MODERN IMPROVEMENTS. Steam Heat, Electric Inght and Call Bells all through the House. Closets aud Bath Rooms on Every Floor. Sefton & Flem-minfr's Livery is connected with this Hotel. Good Teams and Competent Guides for the Battlefield. Charges Moderate, Satisfaction Guaranteed. Rates $1.30 Per Day. GET A SKATE ON And send all your Soiled Einen to the Gettysburg Steam Laundry R. R. LONG, Prop. Horace Partridge & Co., BOSTON, MASS. Fine Athletic Goods Headquarters for Foot Ball, Gym-nasium, Fencing' and Track Supplies. Send for Illustrated Catalog. 84 and 86 Franklin Street R. W. LENKER, Agent at Penna. College. JOHN M. MINNIGH, Confectionery, lee, ■•««>Iee Creams Oysters Stewed and Fried. No. 17 BALTIMORE ST. The Leading garber v5f)op (Successor to C. C. Sefton) Having thoroughly remodeled the place is now ready to accommodate the public Barber Supplies a Specialty. .Baltimore Street. Grymi5£im(i, PA. ESTABLISHED 1876 PENROSE MYERS, Watchmaker and Jeweler Gettysburg Souvenir Spoons, Col-lege Souvenir Spoons. NO. 10 BALTIMORE ST., GETTYSBURG, PENNA. L. i\. kiimm Manufacturers' Agent and Jobber of Hardware, Oils, Paints and Queensware. GETTYSBURG, PA. The Only Jobbing House in Adams County. i I - >- L PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. For Fine- Printing go to Tte Jo Co Wile Pnviqjg HOOK CARLISLE ST. GETTYSBURG, PA. C. B. Kitzmiller Dealer in Hats, Caps, Boots and Douglas Shoes GETTYSBURG, PA. R. M. Elliott Dealer in Hats, Caps, Shoes and. Gents' Furnishing Goods Corner Center Square and Carlisle Street GETTYSBURG, PA. EDGARS. MARTIN, F^CIGARS AND SMOKERS' ARTICLES. Chambersburg St., Gettysburg Leadership IN THE CLOTHING and MEN'S EURNISHING Business It is strictly here—everybody knows it. Testimony ? The stock itself. The pen suffi-ciently nimble to tell all the good points of our ::::::: PALL AND WINTER. SUITS AND OVERCOATS has not been found. We will keep you dressed right up-to-date if you buy your Clothing and Furnishings here. : : : : STIINE McPherson Block- No. II BALTIMORE STREET <5ett\?stmret pa. /iDerville E. Zinn, proprietor The Leading Hotel Rates $2.00 per Day Long & Holtzworth Livery Attached Cuisine and Service First-Class We furnish The swellest Furnishings for Collegians in America. Ties, Hosiery, Gloves, Underwear, Sweaters, Hats, Caps. PRICES EXTREMELY REASONABLE. Joseph Auerbach, 623 Penna. Ave., Washington, D. C

Issue 53.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1994. ; ChriStian Heritages and Contempora~ Living MAY-J~ !994 ¯ VOIdUME 531 ¯ NUMBER3 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University. by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ Fax: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ P.O. Box 29260 ° Washington, DC 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1994 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific libraw clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. review for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Joann Wolski Conn PhD Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Sefin Sammon FMS Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MAY-JUNE 1994 " VOLUME53 ¯ NUMBER3 contents 326 feature Leadership a New Way: Women, Power, and Authority Janet K. Ruffing RSM explores the Christian concepts of power and the developmental stages which lead to sharing power and to healing the wounds of authority we all bear. 34O 352 life in flux Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark Jane Ferdon OP and George Murphy SJ draw from their experience of spiritual direction to shed light upon some of the darkness experienced by women and men religious. Merging Provinces Gerald A. Arbuckle SM brings insights from cultural anthropology to the process of merging congregational provinces. 364 One Voice from the Middle Place Judith Ann Eby RSM speaks out as part of a new generation which interprets religious life differently from those whose background includes the lived experience of Tridentine Catholicism. 375 life in service Religious, the Laity, and the Future of Catholic Institutions Catherine Harmer MMS suggests that for the good of Catholic institutions it is time for religious to let go of some things and for lay people to take them on so that both groups can act at their best. 386 Being and Acting Holy for Ministry's Sake Clyde A. Bonar proposes some practical ways of being about our one ministry: to be holy. 397 Missionary by Nature William F. Hogan CSC focuses attention upon the essential missionary aspect of every Christian and religious vocation. 322 Review for Rellg~ous life of witness 402 How to Read the Lives of Saints of Old 415 Frederick G. McLeod SJ gives some helps for our understanding and appreciating the richness of meaning found in the lives of saints of old. Prayer Francis J. Ring SJ offers his personal history of praying as a support for all pilgrims in their prayer life. reflective life 420 Even at the Grave We Make Our Song Margaret Bullitt-Jonas explores how three symbols--the crucifixion, the resurrection, and the ascension of Jesus Christ-- came to life as she prayed over her infant daughter's death. 436 A Letter to Dead Parents about Today's Life Eileen O'Hea CSJ writes about her present-day experience of religious life. 440 452 46O religious life in perspective Journeying to God Together Susan Beaudry PM and Edwin L. Keel SM suggest that what religious have to offer the people of God is the experience of the spiritual journey, with its wisdom and skills. Charism as Sonnet: Developmental Considerations S. Suzanne Mayer IHM offers various perspectives on living the charisms of religious life for the dynamic of personal growth. Hispanic Faith and Culture--and U.S.A. Religious Gloria In~s Loya PBVM explains the pillars, of ministry, community, and spirituality .which support religious life in a Mexican-American setting. departments 324 Prisms 467 Canonical Counsel: Directives for the Relationship between Bishops and Religious: Mutuae Relationes 473 Book Reviews May-.lWune 1994 323 prisms E those of us living in the midwestern part of the United States, the spring and early summer seasons bless us with a burst of flowering trees and shrubs and a continuing array of nature's living vari-ety. Obviously all these signs of life are not created out of nothing each year. In fact, the changing seasons remind us of how much life remains hidden from our daily human perspective. Seeds look to be so dry and lifeless. Even in planting them in lawn or garden, we can only wonder about and wait for the activities of life still hidden from our sight. Oceans appear to our eyes as only a huge volume of water, but oceans teem with life--mostly hidden beneath the sur-face- which marine biologists endlessly discover and observe and marvel at. If we buy into the impressions promoted by contem-porary advertising, we find ourselves acting as if what we see is what life is all about. Life as sold by secular culture seems to bankrupt itself in surface impressions. Just how limited such a vision of life is quicHy becomes apparent when we deal with moral and religious issues of human living. Abortion only becomes an option if people keep human life out of sight. Arguments for abortion deal with choices and rights, with nary a thought about the hid-denness of human life. "Ethnic cleansing," whether it be in E~rope, Africa, Asia, or America, is a cosmetic phrase to disguise the deadly idea that some peoples are more deserving of life than others. Put into practice, this deadly idea joins the age-old slave trading, the Nazi concentra-tion camps, and futuristic scientific cloning as another 324 Reviezv for Religious sadly and horrendously narrow human mishandling of human life. For all the words about environment and ecology and quality of human life, we seem unable to reverence the mystery of life-- visible life and hidden life--with which our world abounds. For the young Christian community at Colossae, St. Paul used the pregnant phrase that "our life is hidden now with Christ in God." Perhaps we need to reflect more on the hiddenness of our faith life and thereby come to an appreciation and reverence for the hiddenness of life in general. The fledgling Christian com-munity at Colossae realized that in everyday life they looked pretty much the same as everyone else. They ate, they drank, they sometimes went hungry, they married and had families, they got sick, they died; they had joys and sorrows. They gathered, of course, for Eucharist, and their concern and care for one another and anyone in need did give them some mark of distinctiveness. But overall they lived with a new reverence for life--from the very young to the very old. Why? Because the risen Christ in whom they all were baptized had brought them into a new rela-tionship to God and to one another--a relationship subtle as the Spirit but as real as the risen Christ himself. As Saul (now Paul the writer) experienced and many other persecutors have learned since his day, a voice insists that it is Jesus whom they persecute. We Christians hear Jesus insisting, "If you do it to the least of these, my brothers and sisters, you are doing it to me." We touch here the source of the hidden life we all live in Christ. But Jesus does more than affect the hiddenness of human relationships--whatever tribe or nationality, religious affiliation or secular lifestyle. Because Jesus has taken on the darkness and hid-denness of suffering and death and by his rising joined it into a new fullness of life, the physical world in which we live is not the same as it was. Suffering and death are not just problems to be solved and if possible eliminated; suffering and death, now seen in a wholly new relationship to life in the risen Christ, must also be met with reverence. In the midst of all our necessary human efforts to relieve the suffering in our world, we believers stand with reverence before suffering, lfor we know. with the sureness of faith that because of Christ life lies hidden even in suffering, sometimes especially in suffering. Therein, deep down, like life in winter, lives Christian joy and the root of Christian reverence for life. David L. Fleming SJ May-ffvtne 1994 325 feature JANET K. RUFFING Leadership a New Way: Women, Power, and Authority The FORUS study in its general conclusions identified authority as "perhaps the most pressing question for reli-gious to resolve."' Underneath the question of authority, I find at least two foundational themes which need to be explored--the meaning of leadership in religious congre-gations in light of differing interpretations of power and authority and the specifically religious qualities of lead-ership. As I study the current research on religious life, I continue to uncover the deep ground of grace out of which religious life grows and flourishes. I remain convinced that we cannot hope to understand the reality of contem-porary religious life without probing this depth level of religious experience. The present theological, interdisci-plinary, experiential reflections address such questions as: Leadership for what? VChat obstacles impede our ability to collaborate? Part II addresses questions about religious leadership: How do leaders support the ongoing conver-sion implied as we discover new dimensions of the Christ mystery in our lives and ministries? What ultimately sus-tains us in our calling? "Authority in many U.S. institutions, including reli-gious life, has.undergone deconstruction. Variable under- Janet Ruffing RSM is associate professor in spirituality and spir-itual direction in the Graduate School of Religion and Religious Education at Fordham University. Her address is GSRRE, Fordham University; 441 E. Fordham Road; Bronx, New York 10458-5169. The second part of her article, "If Christ Is Growing in U~," will appear in our July-August 1994 issue. 326 Review for Religious standings of consensus, subsidiarity, discernment, and leadership have diffused understandings of authority. The abuse of author-ity in the past makes individuals reluctant to endorse authority in any way.''2 It is clear from the FORUS study that these differ-ing views of authority and the corresponding understandings of obedience exist within single institutes as well as across insti-tutes. As a result, leadership is sometimes severely impaired in its ability to lead; while in other instances leadership is experi-enced as empowering and free-ing for mission. Authority functions and is understood differently when charism is taken seriously and when governance takes adult discipleship into account. Women religious particularly have been redefining the mean-ing of obedience and authority in ways particularly suited to their awareness of their needs and desires as women. The FORUS study reports that vision groups "view authority as power that is shared among commu-nities of equals,''3 These changes in understandings of authority are related to how such a vision of power and authority and the impli-cations for redefining a vow of obedience appear, to many women to be more compatible with gospel values than does the post- Tridentine version of authority. Women religious as a group, espe-cially at the level of leadership, are pressing for a more enabling exercise of power among themselves. Although religious desire to maintain an ecclesial identity, the FORUS study reports a "lowered respect for the magisterial authority of the church and the U.S. hierarchy in general.''4 According to this study, women are acutely aware of their exclu-sion from leadership by the clerical church. Women religious are looking at church in new ways; they have embraced a clear com-mitment to changing this church. Clerical resistance to this change will further diminish the capacity of women's communities to Apostolic religious women will not fully stabilize nor be able to attract and retain new vocations until ecclesial conflicts about the church's mission and the contribution of religious within it are resolved. NIay-j~ne 1994 327 Ruffing * Leadership a New Way attract the very women who are looking for a public context in society and church that is meaningful for their dedication and service. In my opinion, apostolic religious women will not fully sta-bilize nor be able to attract and retain new vocations until eccle-sial conflicts about the church's mission and the contribution of religious within it are resolved. This includes not only resolving the role of women in the church but also arriving at an operative consensus of the role of the church in the modern world. Religious are in a real sense church people whose mission and identity lie at the heart of the ~hurch's own. The Brooldand Commission Study reported that 94 percent of their respondents named the self-understanding of the church developed in the wake of Vatican II to be a source in forming their ideas about what is essential to religious life.s To the extent that the larger church is ambiEalent about the directions set by the council, religious life will con-tinue to be at risk. In the context of these recent studies which indicate both sig-nificant change and continuing confusion, I will describe the psy-choanalytic roots of our attitudes toward authority, explore several concepts of power disclosed in the New Testament, and reflect on women and power. I will end with the Whiteheads' descriptions of both the developmental stages which lead to sharing power in Christian communities and the necessary task of healing the wounds of authority which we all bear. Formative Experiences with Authority One's basic stance toward authority, those whom I perceive to be "in charge" or more powerful than I, is usually determined by my early experiences with my mother and father and then with institutional authorities such as teachers and other authority fig-ures. This experience forms how I relate to God as an ultimate authority, how I relate to situations of injustice, how I relate to my own authority, and. how I relate to ambiguous authority. (Ambiguous authority refers to that exercise of authority which is usually benign but which is occasionally overbearing or oppres-sive.) If my experience has been one in which authority was exer-cised with genuine love and for my good, I will tend to respect and trust authority. I will creatively participate with authority, and I 328 Review for Religious will feel comfortable being critical of this authority. These responses are based on a sense that persons in authority have benign motives and are both fallible and rational. In other words, were I to present information missing from a decision, that new information would be taken into account and I would not be pun-ished for making a suggestion. Authority exercised with love is neither physically nor verbally abusive, but consistently treats me with respect. On the other hand, if my experience has been one in which authority was not so exercised, fear will be my dominant emo-tional response. I will either conform to the wishes of authority to avoid notice or abuse or I will rebel against it. Neither rebel-lion nor conformity are particularly healthy responses because both are rooted in a feeling of alienation and powerlessness. Authority functions against me and I feel powerless to do much about it. If I rebel, I choose noncooperation. I do not help to change the situation; instead, I may create a separate peace by withdrawing or opposing. If I conform, I do so because I feel powerless. I do not tell the truth but tell them only what they want to hear to avoid conflict. Since I perceive authority to be unloving and irrational, rational discourse cannot achieve any-thing fruitful, so I do not even try. Of course, no one is a pure type, and all usually have had some experience of both forms of authority. But most of the time I inhabit one attitude more than the other. I either offer myself to the process of authority-mak-ing or I withdraw in fear from participation. If my early experience is primarily loving and rational, I will experience God's authority to be for my good; I will recognize and" act against situations of injustice; I will experience my own inner authority and act out of it in nondefensive ways; and I will be able to be critical. I can tell the truth in the face of ambiguous experiences of authority. I can afford to see that a given person in authority has room to grow in the way he or she exercises that authority. New Testament Concepts of Power The New Testament presents two concepts of power. It addresses the way authority exercises power through the behav-ior and teaching of Jesus, and it begins to redefine power as the activity of God in our midst. "Power in the kingdom of God will May-June 1994 329 Ruffing ¯ Leadership a New Way be totally different from power as it is exercised in the kingdom of Satan (the world). The power of Satan is the power of domi-nation and oppression, the power of God is the power of service and freedom." 6 All the kingdoms and nations of this present world are governed by the power of domination and force. The struc-ture of the kingdom of God will be determined by the power of spontaneous loving service which people render to one another. In Mark, Jesus puts it this way: "You know that among the pagans their so-called rulers lord it over them, and their great men make their authority felt. This is not to happen among you. No; any-one who wants to become great among you must be your servant (diakonos), and anyone who wants to be first among you must be a slave (doulos) to all. For the son of man himself did not come to serve but to give his life as a ransom for many" (Mk 10:42-45, Mk 9:35). This teaching occurs in all three synoptics and is par-alleled by the footwashing pericope in John's gospel. "You call me teacher and lord, rightly so--if I your teacher and Lord have washed your feet--so also ought you to wash one another" (Jn 13:14). This is an example of the way power is to be exercised among the disciples--placing ourselves at the service of one another's freedom, calling forth from one another by our exam-ple "kingdom qualities," and releasing the power of the commu-nity in mission. Jesus is very clear about the difference between domination and service. As Albert Nolan says, "The power of this new soci-ety is not a power which has to be served, a power before which a person must bow down and cringe. It is the power which has an enormous influence in the lives of people by being of service to them." 7 Also relevant to this discussion is Jesus' attitude to the law, the power which enabled religious rulers to dominate and oppress. Jesus consistently attacked this abuse of the law. He rejected any interpretation which was used against people. The law was meant to serve genuine human needs and interests. Unfortunately, many fear the responsibility of freedom. We seek the security of a law which gives us prestige and allows us to dominate, or we let others make decisions for us, hiding behind rules, relying on the letter rather than on the spirit of the law. In so doing we enslave ourselves by our fear of freedom, and we deny freedom to others as well. Jesus does not abolish the law, but relativizes it so that we will take responsibility for the sys-tems we create and use them to serve the needs of humanity. The 330 Review for Religious exercise of power and authority in God's kingdom is to be func-tional. It should embody the arrangements that are necessary if we are to serve one another willingly and effectively. Every type of domination and servitude is to be abolished, including religious forms of these abuses. The New Testament also speaks about another kind of power--the power that comes from on high over Mary, the Holy Spirit, who also comes upon the community gathered in Jesus' name after the resurrec-tion. Jesus' ministry is characterized by a release of God's power as he expels demons and heals those who believe. The woman with the issue of blood touches Jesus, and power goes out from him. In Luke, all try to touch Jesus in order to be healed because power emanates from him. When Jesus sends out the disciples to preach, he confers power on them, not to rule but to heal and to cast out demons. Jesus releases in our midst freedom from all that binds us. He heals and forgives sin and invites us to share in this power for good which is the Spirit's action in us. We, as apostolic women, are empowered by that same Spirit. We are called to develop ways of making decisions, organizing our lives, and harmonizing our gifts so that this holy power for mission is released in each of us and in the group as a whole. The disciples had trouble understanding this; they kept mixing up these two kinds of power, wanting to rule and lord it over others rather than releasing the God life to its own ends. Jesus is very clear about the difference between domination and service. Women and Power As women we can often remain confused about these texts and themes. We have been trained in our tradition to be power-less-- to be the servants. Kathleen Fischer puts it this way: "Rhetoric about servanthood has often been used against women, trapping us in subservient roles. As suffering servant Jesus exer-cises power in the service of rglationships,.affirming the dignity and worth of each individual. He empowered others, unlocking their deepest desires and enabling them to use their best gifts."s Women's role in the church has been designated as the subordi-nate one (servants) while others have assumed the positions of May-June 1994 331 Ruffing * Leadership a New Way If we do exercise power unconsciously, we will probably do to others exactly what has been done to us. authority, taking charge, lording it over, and engaging in ritual footwashings while not holding power lightly. As a result, women find themselves oppressed by religious authority and in a posi-tion of permanent subordination. Since power has been a bad word among Christian women, we perceive it as a negative and dangerous reality. Because it is something none of us is to have or exercise, we are therefore often mysti-fied by the use of power in the church and in religious congregations. We do not want anything to do with power, and we may be afraid to exercise it. If we want power, we must be bad. Exercising power in our own interest can leave us feeling selfish, self-destruc-five, or threatened in our relationships. This ambivalence about power and our social conditioning in patriarchal sys-tems create a situation in which we often exercise our power indirectly or unconsciously. Or we may become con-fused and anxious when conflict or struggle comes out into the open. If we do exercise power unconsciously, we will probably do to others exactly what has been done to us. So as not to oppress anyone else as we have been oppressed, we need to understand power differently. We need to see power as a strength and understand how to participate in the healthy use of power. Jean Baker Miller redefines power simply as the "capacity to implement.''9 Expressing power does not need to be coercive or oppressive. Women, however, do not exercise power any better than men unless we become conscious and critical of how and when we express power. The Whiteheads on Power In the American church many men and women, clergy and laity, struggle to reflect critically on their experience of power in ecclesial contexts and to change how that power is expressed. Recent writings by Evelyn and James Whitehead have supported this struggle by exploring gospel understandings of power in the 332 Review for Religious light of the contemporary social sciences. In their work with hun-dreds of teams and in workshops across the country, they found that the single greatest obstacle to collaboration is a mystifica-tion about power along with the inability of many people in authority to share power. The Whiteheads define power and authority this way:l° Authority is the right to command or exercise power in relationship to the goals and values of the group. It is vested in persons (elected leaders) or in offices (specific roles/func-tions). Who or how the "vesting" occurs may be formal (appointment, election, consensus) or informal. But the social group recognizes the function of authority and the process of transferring it from one person to another. Power is the achievement or control of effects. Often it is the ability to produce a change. It may or may not coincide with authority. The Whiteheads continue: It is always present in interpersonal relationships. It is every way of exercising influence over another. One person is always subject to the power of another and no one is com-pletely without power. Power refers to the interactions among us. Finally, they say "power is best. perceived as those interac-tions that both create and threaten human community." According to the FORUS study, it is this definition of power as a resource to be shared that emerges as the dominant view of power among visionary people in religious life. The question remains: How operative is this understanding of power in religious life? In The Promise of Partnership, the Whiteheads consider that one of the primary tasks of religious leadership is to foster the transformation of our experience of power. If religious leaders genuinely exercise power in a manner consonant with the New Testament's understanding, they will use their power to welcome the power of others. They will use their role as leaders to enable those they lead to experience their shared strength in the group. As we mature in personal strength, we experience different modes of power. Early experiences and cultural influences can delay or impede our being comfortable with more mature expres-sions of power. Relying 0n David McClelland's work, the Whiteheads describe four basic orientations toward personal power--receiving power, achieving autonomy, expressing power, and sharing power. ~ May-j~une 1994 333 Ruling * Leadership a New Way Faces of Power Childhood is our basic experience of feeling strong because we are cared for and supported in our growing by our parents. When we are nurtured well, we learn to feel safe in the presence of oth-ers' power. We are empowered by this protection. Feeling empow-ered by others in this way continues into adulthood when we are strengthened by friendship, teamwork, or collaboration. I can feel comfortable receiving care and competence from others, and ][ do not have to rely entirely or only on myself. If I grew up in an unsafe environment, I learned not to trust or I remember depen-dence as demeaning and shameful. Adult experiences can also dis-appoint us and cause us to withdraw, but they are often overcome when we fall in love again or open ourselves again to a new rela-tionship. Autonomy is the strength we have on our own. In achieving autonomy we celebrate our self-reliance and self-sufficiency. Acting on nay own behalf expands my sense of power. Having developed some skills and competencies, I become an agent in my own life. Collaboration depends on my having some basic confidence in my own resources. If I lack autonomy, I will under-mine any partnership through my dependency. However, if I do not learn how to move beyond self-sufficiency, collaboration and openness to outside influence will feel like weakness, for it will imply that my own resources are deficient. Women often have difficulty in achieving autonomy unless the culture in which they function values their self-sufficiency and personal agency. Some religious communities have impeded this development in their members while others have fostered it but have not yet been able to direct this self-reliant energy back into communal projects. Expressing power turns us outward, as we begin to influence others and have an impact on our world. At this stage we feel strong when we influence the world beyond ourselves. A new sense of power stirs when we express our ideas, make demands of others, assume responsibility, take charge, and when others respond favorably. McClelland found that this orientation was prominent among management, supervisors, lawyers, and people in the helping professions. Success in all these fields depends on being able to influence the attitudes and behaviors of others. Personal assertion and social influence are the two particular resources of this power. However, these resources can be dis-played differently. Some express power exclusively in a combative 334 Review for Religious stance of competition with a need to dominate. A leader who feels strong only in this way easily becomes authoritarian. This kind of leader may function effectively in a military unit, but not as well in a helping role or in organizational leadership. !n these roles it is more appropriate to feel power-ful when motivating others, offering assistance, coordinating resources, and helping a group move toward its goals. The shadow side of this abil-ity to influence is dominance and control. Maturity lures us toward still another face of power--feeling strong in sharing power. People at this stage feel themselves to be per-sonally strong and also involved with something larger than themselves. Something beyond self-interest--the will of God, or commitment to a vision--prompts their action. They feel both powerful and empowered, strong both in autonomy and in col-laboration. These people welcome interdependence, the ability to enjoy mutual influence and mutual empowerment. When we work together the power we share increases and enhances my strength. The outcome that emerges from this interplay of interdepen-dence is less mine, yet I feel stronger because something better has resulted. Genuine interdependence is possible only if a significant num-ber of the members of religious communities mature to this fourth level of power. The hierarchical church, in its current exercise of power, shares power minimally. One group is authorized to express power and another group, namely the laity, receives it. If actual partnership is to flourish in the ecclesial community, we need an abundance of religious leaders who value sharing power and who are not threatened by widening the sources of influence. Much of the governance journey in religious life for women has been toward this mode of sharing power. The old way of lead-ership is not capable of fostering the full religious'maturity of its members. A single charismatic leader can function in level three If actual partnership is to flourish in the ecclesial community, we need an abundance of religious leaders who value sharing power and who are not threatened by widening the sources of influence. May-June 1994 335 Ruffing ¯ Leadership a New Way of this schema, but that requires the entire group to submit to that individual charism. I believe the gifts of grace and discern-ment are distributed both more broadly and more abundantly than that. If we truly believe that our charisms live in all of us, that God's spirit releases an outpouring of energy and power, then sharing power is the only style of religious leadership that has the flexibility and openness to engage in the discernment of these movements. Healing the Wounds of Authority The FORUS study critiques dysfunctional religious leader-ship in many religious communities. I understand that much of this dysfunction is a manifestation of incomplete adult ddvelop-ment. For authentic interdependence and collaboration to be pos-sible, those in leadership must be committed to continuing their own development and to fostering the development of their mem-bers. Healing the wounds of authority is often an integral part of the process.12 The Whiteheads describe a continuum of growth in our per-spective about authority. It moves from the perception that power and authority are completely external to ourselves to the percep-tion that we confer authority in partnership with others for com-mon goals. Women in religious life stand all along the continuum. The way authority used to be exercised was coercive. A large part of our individual and corporate journey through renewal has involved deconstructing coercive authority and either avoiding the question of authority altogether (hence not a few resistant women in our midst) or constructing an entirely new way of exer-cising it. Briefly, the Whiteheads portray the function of authority as expanding life, making power more abundant, and calling others to collaborative partnership. However, many of us find ourselves unable to respond to this adult invitation to share power. We per-sist in viewing authority as external to ourselves, with those in authority holding on to power as a permanent and privileged pos-session to be used as they see fit. This kind of authority makes us feel like either children or victims, vulnerable and liable to be hurt when we interact with authority. We project onto our lead-ers impossible expectations, [equiring them to be all things to all people. We treat them as different from us, more knowledgeable, 336 Review for Religious more wise, more talented. Such projection masks our irresponsi-bility and delays our process of maturing. A more mature approach to authority views leaders very much as we view ourselves. We hope they are competent, but we under-stand that they have no special access to wisdom. They, too, are limited, fallible, susceptible to bias and error. No longer something leaders do to us, authority becomes relativized and results in a sense of partnership. Rather than benefi-ciaries, victims, or observers, we become participants with leaders in shaping the best decisions. How do we heal the wounds of authority? Transformation begins, according to the Whiteheads, whenever a crisis causes us to examine behavior that no longer works, whether it he avoidirig authority, fighting it, or trying to win its approval. The process moves through the successive stages of withdrawal, disbelief, self-scrutiny, and authority-making. In withdrawal I recognize that I have put authority outside myself and retreat to an inner place. My external behavior may not change much, hut basically I ignore authority and its claims on me. In the stage of disbelief, I realize that I am more than what authority thinks of me. My sense of self and self-worth no longer depends on external authority. This stage may begin as rebel-lion--" Who says this is the way things are?" I question how things are and think about how things could or should be. I recognize that how things are is often merely the way those in power have decided they should be, sometimes benefiting the leaders more than anyone else. The risk of disbelief is that it can harden into skepticism that rejects all exercise of authority. I can be preoc-cupied with exposing the faults and failings of those in authority when I do not yet see myself as an equal. The stage of self-scrutiny allows me to recognize how I have participated in maintaining coercive authority all along, whether by elevating those in authority, attacking them, or blaming them for things for which I am also responsible. I become able to ask We project onto our leaders impossible expectations, requiring them to be all things to all people. Such projection masks our irresponsibility and delays our process of maturing. May-June 1994 337 Ruling ¯ Leadership a New Way the critical question: When is the influence of external authority-- a leader, a value system, a set of laws--legitimate in my life? A cer-tain level of intellectual and emotional maturity is required in order to respond freely, neither compulsed to negate these demands nor anxious to satisfy a hidden motive. I understand that, as I have contributed to my own oppression, I can participate in my own empowerment. When I can exercise my personal power in response to author-ity both by taking initiative and obeying, I have reached the stage of authority-making. At this stage, I am able to face conflict if nec-essary in the pursuit of a common purpose. This is possible only after I have recognized my prior negative contribution through fear, apathy, or magical thinking. The Whiteheads caution that one cannot wait until this stage is completed; even conscious of wounds and the continuing process of healing, I need to be engaged as a partner in authority.13 The unhealed wounds of authority are frequently the unac-knowledged agenda when leaders and members experience tension between individualism and the common good. Authority will be interpreted and experienced differently depending on the level of healing and the vision of exercising power espoused by each religious. If leaders can encourage communities to begin to heal the wounds of authority and if the majority of the members can endure the pain of growth in this developmental process to become capable of sharing power, our communities will be very different. Both leaders and members will be partners in codis-cernment, as both respond to the ever changing call to be shaped by and to express in life and ministry their shared charism and discipleship of Jesus. According to the FORUS study, outstanding women leaders were extremely active in securing the commitment of the group to appropriate actions or decisions. They used their positional and personal power to influence outcomes, but not at the cost of diminishing the sharing of power in the group. Further they tended "to encourage participation of those they lead, share power and information with them, and enhance their self-worth and energize them." ~4This style of leadership has been pioneered largely by women in a variety of settings as well as in religious life. Clearly, one of the gifts religious women can offer the church is the healing of our wounds of authority and our growth in sharing power, thereby releasing the power of God's spirit in our midst. 338 Review for Religious Notes ~ David Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis, "Research Executive Summary: Future of Religious Orders in the United States," Origins 22 (24 September 1992): 271. 2 Ibid. 3 Ibid, p. 268. 4 Ibid, p. 271. 5 Katarina Schuth, "The Intellectual Life as a Value for Women Religious in the United States," Appendix: Survey, Brookland Commission paper, 16-18 October 1992, 10. 6 Albert Nolan, Jesus before Christianity (Maryknoll: Orbis, 1976 and 1992), p. 84. v Ibid, p. 85. 8 Kathleen Fischer, VVomen at the Well: Feminist Perspectives on Spi~qtual Direction (Mahwah: Paulist, 1988), p. 140. 9 See Jean Baker Miller, Toward a New P~chology of FVomen (Boston: Beacon, 1976 and 1986), for a full discussion of the topic women and power. ~0 Evelyn and James. Whitehead, Emerging Laity: Retm~zing Leadership to the Community of Faith (New York: Image, 1988), p. 36. ~ The description which follows is dependent on Evelyn and James Whitehead, The Promise of Partnership: Leadership and Minist~7 in an Adult Church (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1991), pp. 115-127. ~2 See "Healing the Wounds of Authority," in Promise, pp. 27-36, for the full description of this schema. ~3 It should be apparent that only in these latter two stages of self-scrutiny and authority-making is discernment possible. 14 David Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis, "Religious Leadership Competencies," Review for Religious 52, no. 3 (May-June 1993): 413. May-June 1994 339 JANE FERDON AND GEORGE MURPHY Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark life flux ¯ he renewal of religious life over the past thirty years has generated a series of expected and unexpected results. One of the most puzzling is the persistence of darkness. Despite massive and heroic efforts to update and achieve renewal, many groups and individuals are continually deal-ing with a darkness that nothing seems to dispel. As men and women religious and bishops prepare for the Roman Synod on religious life, people will inevitably both review the transitional years since Vatican II and envision the future. They will gather and analyze data from many different perspectives. We would like to offer the perspective of spiritual direction and our experience of working as spiritual directors with men and women reli-gious.~ Theological, sociological, psychological, economic, political, and cultural perspectives all help in the under-standing of religious life. From spiritual direction we can see how people's experience of God has renewed them and how their experience of darkness, the apparent or real absence of God, has purified or stultified them. People's experiences of God in moments of light, energy, joy, and enthusiasm have received refined attention Jane Ferdon oP and George Murphy SJ are adjunct faculty at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley, where they have been directing a practicum in spiritual direction. Their address is Jesuit School of Theology; 1735 LeRoy Avenue; Berkeley, California 94709-1193. 340 Review for Religious and have been deservedly relished. There are encouraging signs of new vitality in religious life: a growing freedom in people, more laughter, a refusal to be victimized, an ability to love and receive affection, a desire to know God more and share with oth-ers how God is present among us. People are taking apostolic risks and are praying regularly and contemplatively. Many are concerned with the poor and with unjust structures. People strive for integrity, some even risking their lives to protest war and nuclear arms. Others give their lives as martyrs, witnesses of God's concern for God's peo-ple. Some are willing boldly to confront evil both within the church and outside it. There are many reasons to hope. It is precisely in this context that we need to interpret dark-ness, both individually and col-lectively, to ponder its impact and to move toward light. The subject of darkness is not attrac-tive. By its very nature it can evoke self-criticism and blame. We intend neither. Our purpose is to portray people's experience and to raise some serious questions for reflection and considera-tion. We are convinced that only by scrutinizing the darkness can we be more free to enjoy the new life and energy in our midst. Then, with courage, we can pass on what we have learned to the next generation of women and men religious. Admittedly, some-times we have neither the strength nor the disposition to deal with darkness. As painful as it might be, we believe that God is calling women and men religious and the church not only to look at the light but also to discern the darkness. Experiences of darkness are only beginning to be probed and 'mined.z Our thesis is that sometimes darkness is holy; God is present and waiting in the darkness. This is the dark night of There are encouraging signs of new vitality in religious life: a growing freedom in people, more laughter, a refusal to be victimized, an ability to love and receive affection, a desire to know God more and share with others how God is present among us. May-.~ne 1994 341 Ferdon and Murphy * Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark senses or of spirit that Teresa and John of the Cross perceptively explored for their times and now needs contemporary examina-tion. 3 Another darkness, however, is unholy because God is not present in the abyss. This darkness is destructive rather than cre-ative. It is the realm of the prince of darkness, a darkness that needs to be named and avoided or robbed of its hold. In prayer as in life many women and men religious have expe-rienced both forms of darkness; but how do we discern the dif-ference? Are some of the more stubborn blocks to the renewal of religious life examples of the power of the unholy dark? Is the future of religious life to be found only in the holy dark? Some women and men religious feel trapped in a dark place, clawing interiorly to be set free, wanting to find a way out of dreary con-trolled maintenance, making work their escape and ministry a substitute for a vital relationship with God. For more than a few, religious life as it is does not satisfy; church life as it is does not satisfy. The experience is one of darkness. One woman religious who had served many years in admin-istration described her experience of darkness this way: There is no doubt that religious life is in transition. Many men and women religious feel something is missing in reli-gious life. We sometimes sense it in liturgies, at meetings, in group assemblies, in discussions. We go away hungry. Something deep within is left unsatisfied. So we try harder, photocopy more papers, quote more authors, add more meetings, review statistics, hire consultants. We multiply information, yet increasingly remain dissatisfied and weary. Deep within we sense something is missing still. We assume it is the times, the culture, the lack of leadership or the apa-thy of membership. Vocations continue to decline. The membership's vitality is diminishing. It is a telling situa-tion. How do we read its message? A male religious who is a college psychologist described his experience: There are signs that religious life is dying or at least seri-ously sick. There are too many unhappy persons, unhappy communities, and unhappy work situations in religious life today. One needn't look far to find depression, codepen-dence, anesthetized feelings, controlled conversations. While one sees many people who work hard, often to the point of burnout, their work has a joylessness about it. No matter how much one does, it seems never to be enough. One sees too many men and women religious who do not 342 Review for Religious have much joy in living. Some clothe their depression with false piety and pious clichds. Others become TV addicts. Some have become drug addicts. They misuse prescriptive medication or alcohol. Many practice massive denial. They think everything is fine or would be if we prayed more or were more cheerful. Few people are entering; some are still leaving or staying because it is too late in life to begin again. Those who stay in religious life are aging. Even our efforts at renewal seem short lived, using bandages and patent medicine. A devil chased out, the house left empty, new devils take up housekeeping.4 If we liken this period of transition in religious life to wan-dering in the wilderness (a "desert experience"), some dynamics become clear. It can be an exodus from what oppresses to what frees, or it can be an endless exile in the wilderness. We must dis-tinguish whether there is movement forward or paralysis. Are we simply wandering in circles? Many in religious life feel an oppres-sion of spirit. What used to work no longer fits the present real-ity. It is a time of letting go, yet there is a fear of losing precious valuables,s We know we cannot go back, yet we have grave diffi-culty moving forward. Perhaps our renewal has not reached the depth of genuine conversion. We may be stuck in a desert place, tired of the journey, helpless in finding direction, and discour-aged about our future. In this desert experience of transition, it becomes critical to notice the difference between honest disenchantment and crip-pling disillusionment. Many forget that disenchantment can be the beginning of a positive experience. "The point is that disen-chantment, whether it is a minor disappointment or major shock, is the signal that things are moving into transition. At such times we need to consider whether the old view or belief may not have been an enchantment cast on us in the past to keep us from see-ing deeper into ourselves and others than we were ready to. For the whole idea of disenchantment is that reality has many layers, each appropriate to a phase of intellectual and spiritual develop-ment. The disenchantment experience is the signal that the time has come to look below the surface of what has been thought to be so.''6 Are we unknowingly prolonging our transition because we fear being disloyal to the past by recognizing some of its limits? Would we rather prolong the exile than move to a deeper level of honesty or confront the darkness? "The disenchanted person recognizes the old view as suffi- May-June 1994 343 Ferdon and Murphy * Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark cient in its time, but insufficient now.''7 The disillusioned person simply rejects the earlier view. While the disenchanted person moves on, the disillusioned person stops and goes through the same play or pattern again. Many in religious life remain disillu-sioned rather than disenchanted. There is no real movement from ending to beginnings. So patterns are repeated. One changes one's ministry, school, or parish and never goe~ through the interior process of ending to begin. There are no good-byes. There is no letting go. A priest takes the "geographical cure" and moves to another university or parish only to be hounded by the same issues and behavior, but with a different cast of characters. A sister switches ministry. She leaves grade school teaching, tries pastoral care, goes away for a renewal program, begins a theology degree, and lands in a parish facing the same internal dynamics only in a different set of circumstances. Disillusionment grows. A sense of failure increases. There are many reasons to be afraid. Our fears can be para-lyzing. The crucial discernment is whether God is inviting us into the dark. If so, what are the indications of God's invitation? The danger is that we just presume either that darkness is a reality or that God is welcoming us into the darkness when neither is true. When God asks us to look at the dark, God will be present with us. God's presence may not make the dark less dark, but God's presence assures us that we are not alone. In the unholy dark, God is not present. We often get preoccupied with negative voices. An accusatory voice convinces us that we must save our-selves, and we know that is hopeless. Evil asserts its fascination. We step into the darkness alone and meet chaos. Frequently this same dynamic asserts itself in prayer. For instance, one fears the God who will ask too much, the God who demands great suffering from those who are faithful. Thus, the focus of one's reflections becomes the possible forms of suffer-ing rather than dialogue with God. The accompanying affect is naturally negative: fear, anxiety, worry, stress. Often there is guilt and a loss of self-esteem: "Why is it I cannot do what God wants?" Notice what is really happening: the person is preoccupied with the anticipated suffering, not with God. Has God asked for suf-fering, or is it what we assume God wants? Moreover, does one then avoid the God who asks too much by evading prayer? Instead there may be a dangerous substitute for prayer: reflection on self and what one is unable to do rather than asking God what God Review for Religious wants or telling God of one's fears and worries. Prayer becomes unattractive, Unfortunately, so does God. In place of evoking the presence of God and feeling the security of an abiding presence, prayer becomes a reflection on one's fears. What spirit led us to this quagmire? As fears multiply and resentments fester, even the desire for prayer fades. Sadly, this desolation can go on for years as one comes to resent the God whom we think of as asking the impossible. Perhaps the question we must ask ourselves both individually and collectively is: Have we lost some-thing of a sacred focus? What if it is a divine focus that is missing? Men and women religious frequently claim that rarely does our conversa-tion reach the level of the holy: the moments when a reverent silence fills us, the sense that God is near, not because of a timeless theological assumption, but because of a present shared experience. Is it this elo-quence of the holy that is missing? Is it this level of engagement we can-not seem to reach? The disciples and our spiritual ancestors bonded and dreamed; they boldly proclaimed God's word because they talked among themselves of their encounters with and memories of the holy. Do we? Are we fear-ful, anxious or embarrassed? What if there is no real experience of God? What if others ridicule what is deepest within? What if one has to admit it has been a long, long time since God and I really communicated, not just through rote prayer or disciplined meditation, but by genuine, engaging talk---listening, speaking, feeling, discerning--earthy God-talk. We assume that something is God's will. Rarely do we wres-tle long enough with God's word to know what God really wants. Often we are unable to identify and face our own deepest desires. It is a frightening business to feel underneath the feelings, to ponder something long enough to get to the root emotion. The irony is that sometimes it is easier to acknowledge the depth of feeling than to endure the tiring mechanisms of avoidance. It is no Often we are unable to identify and face our own deepest desires. It is a frightening business to feel underneath the feelings, to ponder something long enough to get to the root emotion. May-.l~une 1994 345 Ferdon and Murphy ¯ Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark wonder we have lost a genuine spiritual fluency. Perhaps it is a clue to why we wander in circles rather than move forward. Thus we prolong the transition. Moreover, in our frustration we can make another or others the enemy rather than going more deeply into a conscious examination of our primary relationship, our indi-vidual relationship with God. How much time, attention, thought, affect, dialogue, and development does this relationship get in my day, week, month? Is it really primary? If it is not, what is primary and why? Did something get lost? Can it be found, renewed, enlivened? Who got distracted? To borrow again from the exodus experience: Have we lost sight of the cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night (Ex 13:21- 22)? As a result, do we turn inward with murmuring, grumbling, and accusation (Ex 14:11-12)? Do we feel the disillusionment and strain? As many older men and women religious explain, "This is not the community I entered." We want to tui'n back, not in con-version but out of reluctance. Perhaps we cannot see what is ahead because our backward look prevents us. A woman therapist who sees many men and women religious observed: "Many religious are desperate: body work, crystals, cen-tering prayer, dance, Eastern philosophy, psychotherapy, twelve-step programs, dream work, even hypnosis and psychics have been tried as means to greater peace. The tragedy is that often the means becomes the primary focus. The divine gets lost in the search; searching becomes an end." We become the doers, for-getting that another is there with us, the one to wtiom we are committed by vows. Then we begin consciously or unconsciously to accomplish our own redemption. The Redeemer is forgotten, not deliberately, not consciously, not entirely, but somehow God becomes a distant figure or shadowy image, definitely out of focus, perhaps a memory. Yet, without this presence and this power, there can be no real vision. No wonder we sense something is missing. Someone might be missing, One without whom we can-not move forward. Individual experiences become the dynamic of the group. Often at community or congregational meetings and assemblies there is a clearly defined role for facilitators so that the group process is efficient and the stated objectives are met. Seldom is the same authority given to the spiritual dynamics operative in any group process where men and women religious gather. At times, the belief that God is everywhere becomes an unconscious cover- 346 Review for Religious up for a lack of the divine perspective or an abdication of spiritual responsibility. It can be a form of resistance too. Is there more fear or more freedom in the group? Are there indications of a holy or unholy spirit? Are these named and identified? Which gets more developed. Why have the spiritual dynamics operative in any religious group not been given equal emphasis? One does not wish to propose false piety: the "God will provide" rationale for avoidance. However, we must be wary of an administrative, eco-nomic, or psychological reduc-tionism. Who watches, identifies, articulates the movements or countermovements of the spirit in general chapters? Is it a con-cern? How much time, discus-sion, reflection, or debate is this crucial factor given? Do we assume that all we do is blessed and good, making discernment unnecessary? Are our governing bodies more task- or discern-ment- oriented? If the former, is this one reason we seem so often to repeat patterns? Do we scrutinize the spiritual implications as carefully as we do the financial ones? Do we endure less freedom by letting outside influences rather than spiritual profundities dictate most of our decisions? Do we leave room for the spirit to speak, or do we simply presume or even pretend that we are all speaking in the same tongue? Do we then consider those who disagree misfits? It is worth remembering that, whenever there is no dialogue, there is a breach of freedom. Of course, one can agree to dis-agree, provided one has been heard--but in many congregations many voices are silent. This silence speaks. Can we listen to the silence? Sometimes we are afraid. Besides, the tasks need to get done. Our social analysis must move on to the next phase. The danger is that the tasks do get done, but not always satisfactorily. The initial peace or relief that the job was accomplished does not bear fruit. Too frequently the very same issues come back to haunt us. That experience demands a refined discernment of spirits, not At times, the belief that God is everywhere becomes an unconscious cover-up for a lack of the divine perspective or an abdication of spiritual responsibility. May-June 1994 347 Ferdon and Murphy ¯ Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark just reworded policies. If we were collectively to allow the deeper issues to emerge from a time of discernment, we might face very different topics in our chapters and assemblies and our spiritual governance. Do we tend to look at what we can control? Often the Spirit will introduce us to what is beyond our control. This can be cause for delight or cause for fear, which can of itself be a grace-filled revelation. In this desert experience of transition, we must check where have we built our altars: what are we worshiping? On the exodus journey there were two collections in the desert. In one God asks the people for gold to build a sanctuary that God might dwell in their midst (Ex 25:1-9). The other occurred because of a long delay. The Israelites became impa-tient with Moses, and so they contributed their valuables towards the making of a golden calf. Where are our valuables going? To discern a group's focus and leadership is not a luxury; it is a mat-ter of life and death. To choose life is to have God dwelling among us. This choice comes out of freedom. To choose death is to cre-ate our own god, to guarantee our own future. This choice comes out of impatience and disillusionment. The first heralds a sacred beginning; the second repeats a sinful ending not much different from the pyramid building that was supposedly abandoned, an apt example of disillusionment's repetition of patterns. God bids "a collection from the heart" (Ex 25:1). Where are our hearts calling us? Can we let go of old ways to begin anew? It is imperative to explore the darkness. If it is holy, then there is a presence in the darkness. We are in a safe place, and there is a reason we have been beckoned there. Perhaps a vision will emerge. If it is unholy dark, then we must flee the desola-tion. The dark mood that many men and women religious expe-rience can be a developing spirituality. It is time to go deeper; even if we must first address fear or reluctance. Nonetheless, there is an attraction or longing. Reluctance can be a form of darkness. Depression can sometimes be a side effect. Whether the darkness is a form of the dark night or a stubborn paralysis of spirit needs thoughtful attention as well as careful delineation. To explore the darkness is not an optional task; it is a spiritual mandate. However much good therapy has done for many men and women religious, it can still become a substitute for intimacy, for community, and even for God. It is a contemporary irony that authority is sometimes given to therapists that would never be given to religious superiors or confessors. If the darkness is pri- 348 Review for Religious marily psychological, then one must use therapeutic tools. But what if the darkness is primarily spiritual and the depression a side effect? Is this issue being sufficiently addressed? There is no doubt about the spiritual side effects of depression, but what about the possibility that the current mood among many women and men religious is a form of spiritual desolation or even a form of consolation that goes unrecognized because of the awful sense of empti-ness? The helps for relieving depression might be quite different from the remedy for desolation. Certainly one wants to pursue ther-apy if the darkness in prayer results from psychological blocks or bio-chemical factors. If this darkness is spiritual desolation, however, then an active spiritual response and practical spiritual directives are called for. If the darkness is an exodus leading to something more, then it is consoling. If it amounts to going around in circles, it is frustrating, purposeless, and diminishing. Moreover, fidelity to it is a sham. Discerning the darkness is not only an individual task, but also a collective one. Depression or darkness of spirit can lead to self-absorption or self-transcendence. To know the difference affects the individual, the religious group, and the church. Therefore, one must figure out the source of the dark mood, the imp behind the affect. To mistakenly endure an unholy dark as a dark night of the senses or spirit is abusive and destructive, not purgative. Darkness's fruits also deserve attention. Sometimes what is most obvious is overlooked. For instance, do we leave congrega-tional meetings or gatherings feeling empty, down, or frustrated? Do we feel marginalized or disengaged? Or is our experience joy-ful and revitalizing? Do we feel closer to God and so awed by the Spirit that our prayer is renewed and our ministry energized? Do most of the members feel the same? Again, do we pause and reflect about and then discuss which spirit seems to be dominating the group? If we are on holy ground, we leave one another's com-pany enriched. Or is something lacking? Despite contact with To mistakenly endure an unholy dark as a dark night of the senses or spirit is abusive and destructive, not purgative. May-June 1994 349 Ferdon and Murphy ¯ Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark friends, and gratitude for companionship and laughter with them, is smnething of the sacred absent? It is essential to name that absence lest we bless what is not holy. Religious life as we have known it may be ending, but what about the beginning? If we have failed to negotiate our own indi-vidual transitions, how can we begin to face the group transition? Do we feel heavily burdened? What must we let go of? In-betweenness does not have to last forever. Prolonging the pain only adds to the interior paralysis or feeling of numbness that all-too-many women and men religious experience. Endings are not without sequels, but unless interior conversion takes place no beginnings occur, only *eactions to endings, whether denial, avoid-ance, defensiveness, escape, or repression. How do we begin again? Do we want to do so? We have to acknowledge our pain and voice it to God. We must feel its hold and then move beyond its control to where we can join in a gathering to celebrate survival and new life. We should not let our moaning and grumbling get misplaced and do harm. Transition is the time to ask hard questions, not only of ourselves but also of God. Have we voiced our pain in prayer? Is God with us? What is God communicating? Is God the focus of our gatherings? Are we more lost than we realized? Are we in relationship with God and also in dialogue? What is God saying to us? Is there something we must let go of?. Transition teaches us to get along with less. It removes distractions. Until we discern the darkness, it has a coercive and discour-aging hold. Like a small cancer it can grow undetected until it is too late to cure. Then surgery will not help. What "cancer" might underlie a perhaps subtle but still debilitating lethargy? Our great-est danger is to become numbly resigned to the someday inevitable death of religious life and then stabilize our fear, misplace our anger, distract our anxiety, and live in denial. Religious life is not meant to be endured; it exists for the sake of celebration now and eternally. Unless religious are free enough to name darkness, can-didly, low-grade despair and frenetic avoidance are bound to grow. People close their eyes and shut down to survive. Involvement, activity, ministry become the substitute for contemplation, not the result of contemplation nor food for it. What is really hap-pening is rarely talked about, and thus power is given to the secret. And those who dare to bring up the subject of darkness are quickly judged to be either critical of leadership or disloyal to member- 350 Review for Religious ship and then marginalized by other people's pattern of denial. When denial dictates, dialogue dies. The prince of darkness is empowered, and a divine focus is missed again. The issue is about neither leadership nor criticism; the issue is about neither membership nor loyalty. The issue is that the divine play of light is being overshadowed. In naming the darkness, we allow the light to play, the ligh~ that would illumine all we do, the light that would lighten our lives and allow us even in darkness to be con-fident because the gentle Presence of Mystery reveals that we are indeed on holy ground. Notes ~ We acknowledge our debt to William Barry and William Connolly, The Practice of Spiritual Direction (New York: Seabury, 1982), and to the people at the Center for Religious Developinent; they have had a major impact on our practice of spiritual direction. 2 For a succinct treatment of how darkness appears in directed retreats, see William J. Connolly sJ, "Experiences of Darkness in Directed Retreats," Review For Religious 33, no. 4 (July-August 1974): 609-615. Reprinted in Notes on the Spiritual Exercises, ed. David L. Fleming SJ, (St. Louis: Review for Religious, 1981), pp. 108-114. 3 See Constance FitzGerald's "Impasse and Dark Night" in Living with Apocalypse, ed. Tilden Edwards (New York: Harper and Row, 1984), pp. 94ff. Sandra Schneiders IHM also develops this theme in "Contemporary Religious Life: Death or Transformation," a paper given in Hartford, Connecticut, in 1992 and presented at a faculty colloquium at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley in 1993. 4 For the viewpoint of another psychologist on some unhealthy dynam-ics in religious communities, see Charles Shelton, "Reflections on the Mental Health of Jesuits," in Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 23, no. 4 (September 1991), and a companion article by the same author, "Toward Healthy Jesuit Community," in Studies 24, no. 4 (September 1992). s It is worth while to review Gerald A. Arbuckle's thesis "that a major reason for the reluctance or hesitation of religious congregations, parishes, and dioceses to attempt renewal is their failure to mourn or ritually detach themselves from that which is lost or no longer apostolically relevant. Energy that should be directed toward creating the future is instead spent on efforts to restore or retain that which is lost or dying." See "Organizations Must Ritually Grieve," in Human Development 12 (spring 1991): 22. 6 William Bridges, Transitions (Reading, Mass.: AddisonWesley, 1980), p. 101. 7 Ibid. May-June 1994 351 GERALD A. ARBUCKLE Merging Provinces "May they be so perfected in unity that the world will recognize that it was you who sent me." --John 17:23 Tdre is a trend within the church today for both institutions apostolates to merge: congregations and provinces of congregations, schools and hospitals. Various pragmatic and inspi-rational reasons are given, such as using personnel and finances more effectively for mission. Yet the actual merging commonly fails to meet expectations because people do not appreciate that mergers demand far more than a rearrangement of administra-tions. The contemporary struggle to unite East and West Germany aptly illustrates the point. When institutions seek to combine, they interact as cultures, and the resulting change is not a bloodless abstraction, but a high order of human drama. This introductory article views, from a cultural anthropologi-cal perspective, the merging of congregational provinces--though the theory applies to any organization. Case studies illustrate the theory, and then I suggest some guidelines for use in practice. First we examine what management studies have learned about the mergers of business corporations. Though religious commu-nities are not businesses, they are nonetheless human organiza-tions or cultures. They can learn from the experience of other human organizations that amalgamate,t Gerald A. Arbuckle SM continues to write, lecture, and conduct work-shops on the refounding of religious life. His address is Refounding and Pastoral Development Unit; 1 Mary Street; Hunters Hill; Sydney, N.S.W. 21 I0; Australia. 352 Review for Religious Lessons from the Marketplace The literature on business amalgamations is filled with dreary warnings about the negative effects of mergers. Management con-sultant Tom Peters concludes that "most studies suggest that, in general, [business] mergers do not pan out.''2 Rather than increased profitability, mergers have come to be associated with lowered morale, job dissatisfaction, unpro-ductive behavior, sabotage, petty theft, absenteeism, and increased labor-turnover, strike, and accident rates.3 Management consultant Stuart Slatter advises that the merger of firms "rarely brings increased effi-ciencies, unless accompanied by sound post-merger management. In fact, inefficiencies may actually increase as . divisive splits develop within the new top-management team as each manager retains loyalties to his of change. former business.''4 James O'Toole speaks of the contemporary stress on business amal-gamations as "merger-mania." He says that "the desire of large industrial bodies to merge is insatiable" and that the purpose and strategies for such actions are rarely thought through.5 Charles Handy warns that organizations contemplating merger are "to some extent stuck with their past., their traditions. These things take years if not decades to change.''6 Some authors wonder if the drive for merg-ers comes from authoritarian, patriarchal values dominant in Western society. These values, they claim, blind organizations to feminine values of creativity, of openness to other ways of coop-eration than formal mergers.7 Overall, most commentators conclude that mergers fail because leaders insufficiently consider the human or cultural dimensions of change. In addition to sensitive leadership there must be, authors claim, a cultural compatibility (or what is termed "culture fit") between organizations that seek to merge. If there is insufficient culture fit, then cultural collisions will destroy efforts to merge organizations.8 Anthropologists agree with these conclusions. But they com-plain that, when management writers (with the exception of peo-ple like Edgar Schein) use the term culture, they fail to grasp the complexity of its meaning. They think culture is what people vis- Mergers fail because leaders insufficiently consider the human or cultural dimensions May-3~ne 1994 353 Arbuckle ¯ Merging Provinces ibly do,9 and they fail to consider what they feel about what they do. People may act in the same way, yet differ radically in their cultures, simply because they do not feel the same about what they do. Feelings (expressed in symbols and myths) are at the very heart of cultures, but are far more difficult to name and control than visible actions. A good many authors--for example, Gerard Egan--see culture as but one of many variables in organizations;1° Peter Senge does not refer to it at all.11 Culture is not one facet of life nor merely what people visi-bly do; rather, it is the complete set of feelings affecting, most often unconsciously, all of a specific behavior pattern of individ-uals and groups. Examples are an organization's interiorized system of authority, its modes of communication, its understanding of mis-sion and stratdgies?z Leaders ignore culture at their peril. People may change with relative ease what they visibly do, especially under external pressure; not so their feelings!13 Anthropology Applied Anyone concerned about mergers of institutional cultures must be awai'e of four fundamental insights of applied cultural anthropology. First, cultures have lives of their own, just as indi-vidual~ do. So we rightly say, for example, that cultures grieve or are depressed, are open or closed to creative ideas. Certainly, individuals influence the life of a culture, but the reverse is also true. Sdcond, any cultural change, even for the noblest of rea-sons, is stressful for the people involved. A culture provides peo-ple with a much needed sense of order or security; it is a defense against the anxiety that disorder or the fear of chaos evokes. When cultures interact this felt sense of security is threatened or under-mined; people feel uprooted, losE, disillusioned, angry, sad. Fears and prejudices about the culture with which they must now inter-act come to the surface. Third, people are likely to resist change for one of two rea-sons: the loss of the known and tried, or concern over the impli-cfitions of personal and group loss. Cultural interaction inevitably calls people to new ways of acting; the familiar must be left behind. Hence, any effort to merge cultures leads to varying degrees of overt or underground resistance. Reactions to cultural change in individuals can build up and then explode in ways that appear totally out of proportion to the provocation of the moment. 354 Review for Religious The resistance has merely been deferred and stockpiled; people finally reach a breaking point and express it dramatically. Fourth, the effort to merge cultures is a highly complex and risky pro-cess demanding the leadership of humanly and culturally sensitive and skilled change agents. Without such help people will so resist the change process that mergers falter or fail. The following axioms sum-marize the practical implica-tions of these four points for leaders of would-be mergers: 1. Appreciate the Complexity of Cultures I explain elsewhere in some depth the nature of culture.~4 For our purposes here, how-ever, culture is a pattern of shared values enshrined in a network of symbols, myths, and rituals and created or devel-oped by a particular group as it copes with life's challenges, instructing its members about what it considers the correct way to feel, think, and behave25 Rituals (that is, visible behavior) are the concrete expression of symbols and myths; symbols are experienced or felt meanings. A myth, a set of narrative symbols, is a story or tradition that claims to reveal to people, in an imaginative way, a fundamental truth about the world and themselves. This truth is considered author-itative by those who accept it. In short, myths inspiringly or feel-ingly tell people who they are, what is good and bad, and how they are to organize themselves and maintain their feeling of unique identity in the world. The most powerful myth in every culture is its creation myth, since it provides people with their primary source of identity as a distinct group.~6 Vv~hen the creation myth's existence is threat-ened-- for example, when major cOltural change is being planned or underway--people experience degrees of anxiety, anger, numb-ness, sadness. Various kinds of creation myths affect people in different times and ways. Three of the kinds can be termed the public, the operative, and the residual myths: Myths inspiringly or feelingly tell people who they are, what is good and bad, and how they are to organize themselves and maintain their feeling of unique identity in the world. May-ff-une 1994 355 Arbuckle * Merging Provinces ¯ The public myth is a set of stated ideals that people openly claim binds them together (like the values inherent in the charism of a congregation); in practice these ideals may have little if any cohesive force. ¯ The operative myth, however, is what actually at this point gives people their felt cohesive identity; the operative myth can and often does differ dramatically from the public myth. ¯ The residual myth normally has little or no daily impact on a group's life, but at times can become a powerful operative myth. For example, a former colonial nation will commonly have a resid-ual myth reminding the people of their former dependency on, or oppression by, a dominant European power. If a member of the former country inter'acts with someone from the latter nation, he or she may experience bitter memories of past colonial relation-ships. Then the painful residual myth becomes the operative myth, creating a climate of suspicion and antagonism. The case studies below illustrate the relevance of the above theoretical clarifications, because .proposed amalgamations of provinces inevitably demand changes in existing creation myths. 2. Encourage "Multicultural" Mergers Mergers are not synonymous with takeovers, that is, the total assimilation of other cultures by dominant cultures. True merg-ers recognize the need for dialogue between equals, so that the best of all cultures is preserved in the new emerging organiza-tional culture. 17 3. Arrange for Rituals of Grieving Change causes loss, and all loss evokes a wide range of human emotions: anger, sadness, guilt. These emotions must be ritually expressed and let go of; otherwise they remain repressed and obstruct change. Since individuals and cultures grieve over loss, these rituals must be personal- and culture-oriented.18 4. Seek Culturally Transformative Leadership Leaders must have skills for guiding people through the uncertainties, anxieties, and risks of cultural change.19 Without these rare people, cultural change of a positive kind is impossible. Case Studies: Merging Provinces Case Study 1: An Overefficient General Administration A general administration decided that three provinces should be amalgamated into one province. No problems were anticipated because 356 Review for Religious the administration believed that the reasons for the amalgamation were obvious to all and that the commitment to the congregational charism was greater than to provincial boundaries. The administration explained to the assembled provincials the major reason for the decision: a better use of human and financial resources for mission. On returning to their respective provinces, however, the provincials, who had been convinced by the arguments given them, were surprised to receive immediate neg-ative reactions from their provinces. The provincial administrations then procrastinated for so long that the general administration finally withdrew its decision, blaming the provincials for their lack of courageous leadership. Comment: The general adminstration's decision may have been theoretically correct, but the process of decision making took no account of the provinces as cultures. The decision to merge, taken without adequate consultation, evoked group and individual anx-iety and resistance because people felt that the operative myths of their provinces, giving them felt predictability, were jeopardized. The general administration wrongly assumed that the congrega-tional charism was simultaneously the public and operative myth. On the contrary, the majority of the religious felt closer bonds to their respective provinces than to the congregational charism. Case Study 2: From Euphoria to Provincial "Nationalisms" Three provincial administrations decided to explore the possibility of merging their provinces. An assembly, attended by as many members of all three provinces as possible, enthusiastically endorsed the idea in a vision statement that highlighted the common charism as the unifying force. Thereupon the provincial administrations quickly planned the formal merger. But to their surprise they later received so little cooper-ation from members of the provinces that they finally dropped the entire idea. Comment: An investigation showed that while the religious were together the public myth (that is the congregational charism-based myth) became the operative myth; they enjoyed being together socially as members of one congregation. However, they avoided the pain of looking closely at what they would have to let go of once the merger occurred; they felt the common con-gregational vision would carry them through. On return to their home provinces, the religious recognized what the merger would cost them, and the support for amalgamation rapidly declined; their respective provincial operative myths were revitalized. Quotations from the founder originally assented to in support of May-June 1994 357 Arbuckle * Merging Provinces the merger were now contradicted by other quotations from the same source. Case Study 3: Fearsof Colonialism Revived An administration of a province in the first world explored the pos-sibility of merging with a province in a third-world nation. It argued that the amalgamation would be beneficial to both provinces. The rich province could supply much-needed money to the third-world province; the latter, having a surplus of vocations, could "export" religious to the former. The proposal was immediately and angrily resisted by the poorer province--to the surprise and annoyance of its richer counterpart. Comment: This case study illustrates that a province's iden-tity or mythology can be influenced powerfully by forces beyond a congregation's internal history. The third-world nation had for over a century been a colony of the first-world country. Members of the third-world province sensed an arrogance in the adminis-trators of the rich province reminding them of the oppressive-ness of the colonial era. They did not want their newfound sense of national self-worth undermined by their receiving financial handouts from the richer province. They also feared that they would be administratively dominated after the merger by people from their former colonial power. In this incident the residual myth of the third-world nation became the operative myth of the province; the latter was prepared to remain extremely poor, but in control of its own destiny. Case Study 4: Fears of "Congregational Colonialism" Revived A superior general encouraged two provincial administrations to investigate the advisability of merging their provinces. The investiga-tion showed that for missionary efficiency the merger made perfect sense. However, the reactions to the proposal were so negative in one province, which had been founded several decades earlier by the other, that the plan was dropped. Comment: This case study is similar to the previous one in that the founding province is equivalently remembered as an arro-gant, congregational colonial power. That memory is the residual myth. The thought of a merger makes the residual myth the oper-ative force for identity and effectively prevents any further seri-ous discussion about merging the provinces. Case Study 5: Ethnic Differences Obstructing Amalgamation A general administration encouraged three provinces in a first-world nation to amalgamate, claiming that three separate administra-tions were a luxury the congregation could no longer afford. However, 358 Review for Religious the provincial administration disagreed, claiming that one adminis-tration could never adequately serve the large geographical area involved. Nonetheless, the merger did administratively take place, but the new administration was confronted with previously unforeseen personnel problems. For example, religious resisted requests to move to apostolates across the former provincial boundaries. Comment: The merger was failing, not for geographical rea-sons, but because the provinces were historically formed along ethnic-migrant lines: Polish, Italian, Irish. The cultural preju-dices of last century surfaced once the provinces were adminis-tratively united; that is, the residual myths became the operative myths for a significant number of religious descendants of the original migrants. If people had been involved in the develop-ment and follow-up of the merging, this critical issue would have emerged and been positively worked through. Case Study 6: Merger Plans Successful Three provincial administrations agreed with an outside consul-tant that from a mission perspective it. was essential for their provinces to amalgamate. They consulted all re.embers of their provinces, and most favored the merger. Once the merger decision was finally taken, the provincial administrations sought professional advice on how to pro-ceed. The merger was done in stages over a seven-year period, accord-ing to frequently evaluated strategies. As part of the merging process, all apostolates were assessed for their pastoral relevance and effectiveness in light of clearly stated criteria. Because all members were invited to be part of the merging and evaluating processes, negative reactions were minimal and the ownership of the changes was at a high level. Comment: In this case study the following actions guaranteed success: culturally s6nsitive leadership, aware that in-depth culture change is a slow process; professional assistance in clarifying the vision of the merger and in developing appropriate strategies; the maximum involvement of members of the provinces in all stages of the merging. Advice to Congregational Leaders The following advice is offered to congregational leaders in view of the above theory and the analysis of the case studies: 1. Clarify the Vision and the Strategies for Mergers. The primary aim of any merger of provinces must be to make the religious congregation better able to serve the needs of the May-.~une 1994 359 Arbuckle ¯ MergingProvinces kingdom of God. Thus, congregational leaders must ask ques-tions such as the following: Is the merger apostolically justified, or is it just a way to maintain existing apostolates without evalu-ating them for their apostolic relevance and effectiveness? Are there better ways, than through amalgamation, to achieve the desired effects of a merger? 2. Involve Members throughout the Process. Organizational amalgamations demand cultural change. Any cultural change, to be effective, is slow and risky, requiring as wide an involvement of members as is possible before, during, and after the formal merger. In order to own the new identity people must feel they are realistically contributing to its development. Congregational leaders, therefore, must ask themselves questions like: What structures will best encourage the maximum involve-ment of members? Are the most-skilled cultural-change agents being used to facilitate the process? 3. Foster Group and Personal Conversion-Grieving. Liminality is the cultural betwixt-and-between position which develops when a previous founding myth and its structural or political expressions have terminated, but a new creation myth has yet to be clarified and owned. It is a painfully dangerous stage of grieving because people feeling intense loss are sometimes tempted to retreat back to the old, comfortably secure ways of doing things. The journeying of the Israelites in the desert, with all its temptations to retreat to Egypt and to blame Moses for their miseries, is an archetypal experience of liminality. Moses, confronted by the Israelites' bickering, pettiness, and anger, rec-ognized that, for the people's grieving to be positive, they must have the space to name their anger and sadness in order to let these feelings go in faith and hope. Only then would the Israelites, freed from their attachments to the past, be open to receive the new creation stoW that Yahweh had for them.2° When provinces decide to merge, religious are invited to enter into the liminality of the desert journey. The old provincial creation mythologies must be let go of to allow the creation myth of a new province to emerge and be confidently owned. Congregational leaders, like Moses, must do two things: (1) encourage the religious to share the stories of their provinces with one another, together with their feelings of grief (anger, numbness) over the loss of the predictability that membership in their respective provinces had given them, and (2) call the religious 360 Review for Religious to help shape in hope the vision or founding myth of the new province. It is a call to an ongoing process of personal and cor-porate conversion. Conversion cannot be hurried, but without it .the merging of provinces will fail. 4. Utilize Cultural Change Agents and Consultants. Change agents assume the responsibility for managing the merging process. They are transformational leaders who under-stand objectively the tensions involved in the process, have acquired personal skills to cope constructively with personal and cultural change in their own lives, and are able to foster with empathy a positive approach in others to changes. In the merging of provinces, such people are needed at all levels: as congregational lead-ers, ritual-grief directors, creators of new and relevant provincial structures for mission, and so forth. Because culture change is so complex, it is advisable for con-gregational leaders to seek the advice of consultants at key points in the merging process. The con-sultant's task is to collaborate with those entrusted with the merger in developing "an understanding of the way things are, thinking about the way they might be, and then working with [them] to consider what, how, and whether to change.''2~ The consultant cannot be effective unless he or she has well-developed cross-cul-tural skills.22 The human person is a striver who yearns for progress and is theoretically open to change. But the human person also has basic needs for order, stability, and predictability. The human person is achievement oriented, a striver who yearns for progress and is therefore theoretically open to change. But the human person also has basic needs for order, stability, and predictability. Applied cultural anthropology highlights the fact that, though people may in theory accept change, in prac-tice they commonly opt for the familiar and secure status quo. May-~:une 1994 361 Arbuckle ¯ Merging Provinces This has important consequences for congregations when provinces are encouraged to merge. In the face of declining numbers and the aging of religious, we must not see the mergers of provinces as the automatic panacea to our problems. We need to be: (a) as certain as possible that the merger will improve the congregation's apostolic effective-ness in accordance with its founding vision; (b) aware that merg-ers require, besides mere managerial action at the top, ongoing personal and cultural conversion, or else, like the Israelites of old, religiou~ will resist the changes and hanker after the security of former, apostolically irrelevant provincial structures; and (c) aware that in mergers one province does not take over other provinces, but all are equal partners in establishing a new province to serve the Lord better. Ultimately, without skilled leadership there can be no positive merging of provinces. Edgar Schein warns: "What the leader most needs is insight into the ways in which culture can aid or hinder the fulfillment of the organization's mission and the intervention skills to make desired changes happen . Leadership and ~ulture management are so central to understanding organizations and making them effective that we cannot afford to be complacent about either of them.''z3 Provinces, like all cultures, are unwise to attempt the process of amalgamation, if they lack the necessary leadership. Notes ~ See C. Handy, Understanding Voluntary Organizations (London: Penguin, 1988), pp. 2-23. 2 Thriving on Chaos (New York: Mfred A. Knopf, 1987), p. 7. See also the evaluation of European mergers in The Economist (London), 20 November 1993, pp. 16f. 3 See G. Meeks, Disappointing Marriage: A Study of the Gains from Mergers (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977); S. Cartwright and C.L. Cooper, "The Psychological Impact of Merger and Acquisition on the Individual," Human Relations 46, no. 3 (1993): 327-329. 4 Corporate Recovery (London: Penguin, 1984), p. 245. s Vanguard Management (New York: Berkley, 1987), pp. 258, 250. 6 Handy, Understanding, p. 95. 7 See G. Morgan, Images of Organization (London: Sage, 1986), pp. 210-212. 362 Review for Religious s See S. Cartwright and C.L. Cooper, "The Role of Culture Compatibility in Successful Organizational Marriage," Academy of Management Executive 7, no. 2 (1993): 57-70. 9 For example, see T. Deal and A. Kennedy, Corporate Cultures: The Rites and Rituals of Corporate Life (Reading, Massachusetts: Addison- Wesley, 1982), p. 4. 10 See his Change Agent Skills in Helping and Human Service Setting (Monterey: Brooks/Cole, 1985), pp. 277-287. 11 See his Fifth Dimension: The Art and Practice of the Learning Organization (New York: Doubleday, 1990). 12 See E.H. Schein, Organizational Culture and Leadership (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1987), p. 314. ,3 See S.A. Sackman, Cultural Knowledge in Organizations: Exploring the Collective Mind (London: Sage, 1991), pp. 16-23; J. Hunt, "How People Get Overlooked in Takeovers," Personnel Management (July 1987): 24- 26, and "Managing the Successful Acquisition: A People Question," London Business School Journal (summer 1988): 215. ,4 See G. Arbuclde, Earthing the Gospek An Inculturation Handbook for the Pastoral Worker (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1990), pp. 26-78, 167-186. ,s I have modified the definition by E.H. Schein in his Organizational Culture, p. 9. ,6 See G. Arbuckle, "Mythology, Revitalization and the Refounding of Religious Life," Review for Religious 46, no. 1 (January-February 1987): 14-43. 17 See A.E Buono and J. Bowditch, The Human Side of Mergers and Acquisitions, (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1989), pp. 134-163. ,8 See P. Marris, Loss and Change (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1974), passim; G. Arbuckle, Change, Grief and Renewal in the Church: A Spirituality for a New Era (Westminster, Maryland: Christian Classics, 1991), pp. 151-156, and "Organizations Must Ritually Grieve," Human Development 12, no. 1 (1991): 22-27; D.M. Noer, "Leadership in an Age of Layoffs," Issues and Observations 13, no. 3 (1993): 1-5. 19 For a fuller explanation of the leadership needed, see G. Arbuckle, Refounding the Church: Dissent for Leadership, (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1993), pp. 98-127. 20 See G. Arbuckle, Change, pp. 151-156. 21 E. Miller, quoted by R. McLennan in Journal of Enterprise Management, no. 3 (1981), p. 251. 22 See Arbuckle, Refounding, pp. 213f, 217. 23 E.H. Schein, Organizational Culture, pp. 320, 327. May-d~une 1994 363 JUDITH ANN EBY One Voice from the Middle Place In the matter of human existence the grave and sensible advice of the King of Hearts--"Begin at the beginning" -- cannot be heeded. We have no choice but to begin where we are; and where we are is the middle. It is not given to us to stand on the far side of human time and then, with all delib-eration and grace, to enter . Our first awareness is that we are swimming. We wake in the water. Our beginnings are not wholly our own. Our endings will most likely be beyond our control. We are middle people.~ MmY reflection upon my own journey in religious life draws e to this quotation from John Shea. My entrance into religious life in 1976 was certainly a beginning. I was twenty-one, full of energy and enthusiasm as i entered this new world. Several years later, though, one event was to etch into the core of my being the awareness that I had really entered into a "middle place," a transitional moment in the life of religious communities. After final vows I attended a large assembly of my regional community where the question was asked, "Shall we plan for our future?" A resounding yes echoed immediately, logically, and enthusiastically in my being. Simultaneously an unusually intense session of debate, frustration, and dialogue began in the larger group. After what seemed to be an eternity, the group came to unanimous agreement to plan for the future and spontaneously sang the song of our foundress. Clearly, something significant Judith Ann Eby RSM is a doctoral candidate in the Department of Theological Studies at Saint Louis University. Her address is 4133 Hartford St.; St. Louis, Missouri 63116. 364 Review for Religious had taken place. I also understood for the first time that there was a dimension of the community's corporate journey of which I had no understanding. No matter how much I could intellectu-ally grasp their journey, I would never experientially be able to understand part of their lives. Although not the first of such events, it was certainly the clearest one to signal that, at some moment in time, the commu-nity had stepped into an obviously challenging world and world-view different from a former one. I now shared their new world with them. However, there seemed an almost invisible boundary which prevented me from understanding this former world that still played itself out in their collective consciousness. This invis-ible boundary seemed to be not only the actual experience of Vatican Council II, but the experience of pre-Vatican II religious life. Boundaries which mark the end of one period and the begin-ning of a new one in the life of any community or individual can be arbitrary and theoretical. While it is true that many such boundaries could be named, one moment or event often stands out as a clear crossing over from one world into another. For those within religious life at the time of the council and for those who entered near that time, Vatican II was a watershed experience. For better or for worse, life was never again the same. Joan Chittister comments on this reality: For most communities, updating has been the project and process of religious life for 25 years. Clothing has been con-temporized; schedules have been adjusted to compensate for the invention of the light bulb; internal structures have been brought into sync with the best in organizational plan-ning; individual development has been tested by the most recent and most credible of psychological theorems; theol-ogy programs have progressed far beyond the thinking of the medievalists or the Scholastics; community customs books have been amended to meet the nature of contem-porary life. Every dimension of religious life has been scru-tinized and updated. Most of religious life is definitely not in a time warp any more, at least not if relevance is mea-sured by life styles and learnings.2 The renewal after Vatican II was a crystallizing experience which united a number of different age groups around a new interpretation of religious life.3 This focal experience, it must be emphasized, embraces the formative influence and memory of May-~'une 1994 365 Eby ¯ One l~oice from tbe Middle Place pre-Vatican II religious life as interpreted in light of the council. For more than twenty-five years, changes from the council shook the church and religious communities to their roots. Ways of thinking, ways of being, and ways of acting, an entire collective consciousness of a group, were evaluated and reshaped. It is a subdued statement, indeed, to say that such a vast alteration from one world into another has profoundly affected and continues to affect those who were part of religious life at or near the time of the council. A good number of members still form opinions, beliefs, and attitudes in response to the crystallizing experience of Vatican II. Often this leaves them less likely to understand and sympathize with the ideas and beliefs of those who came well after the council and for whom Vatican II is not a watershed expe-rience. This is not necessarily due to a lack of goodwill, yet there is a tendency for one group to judge the worldview of later age groups as misguided or immature. All worldviews are necessarily limited and contain blind spots not easily recognized by those who hold those views. One question slowly emerges from pondering such a vast alteration and its effects on those in religious life: What of those who entered religious communities years after Vatican II? What has been the experience of such members? Much has been writ-ten about the experience of those who entered religious life before and during the time of the council. Other than some articles on formation, little has been written about the experience and from the perspective of those members who remember Vatican II vaguely or not at all. Some members know only the transitional time of religious communities. My hope is to raise a single voice from this middle place so that it may be heard and contemplated and allow the reader, for just a moment, to stand in the shoes of one who has known only the period of transition and to glimpse religious life from a van-tage point relatively rare within communities. The limitation of this essay is that it is a single voice only. Its strength is that it describes a particularized experience that can be known and touched on a human level. There are several assumptions upon which this essay is based. The first is that arbitrary categories of age and experience are not meant to be divisive or to cultivate a we-they attitude. The realization is deep: we are one, many though we are. The focus on newer or younger members and their perspective is not to deny 366 R~view for Religious or diminish the legitimate experience of others. Categories do not have to be mutually exclusive. What is always of uppermost importance is the vitality of the whole group, not of any age group or of any individual. The main issue is not whether we are grow-ing older, fewer, and poorer as a total community, but whether we are growing in wisdom and clar-ity, conversion and gratitude. The second assumption is that congregations as a whole are often unaware or forgetful of the reality that a minority voice is being lost: the voice of the newer or younger members. Newer or younger members, while known individually and usually well-integrated into the larger community, are corpo-rately invisible and often unheard. They do not necessar-ily possess the same opinions, beliefs, or worldviews because great diversity often exists in terms of age and experience. Generalizations about any age group or category are simplistic at their best and crude at their worst. Many who have known Vatican II have moved to new and cre-ative developments very much in line with the renewal of the council while the thinking, beliefs, and actions of many newer or younger members is stale, noncreative, and full of fear. What is suggested here is that the experience and renewal of religious life resulting fro.m Vatican II continues to exert a formative influence upon a significant number of members while the richness and diversity of an exceptionally small population is being lost. Yet in this group are those who will be the leaders well into the 21st century. Middle places imply an ending and a beginning as well as a continuity with what went before. The human experience of end-ings and beginnings will often be bittersweet and both dark and light. Such has been my journey within my own community. It is these experiences of darkness and light, characteristic of tran-sitional moments, as well as the continuity that I want to articu-late. Congregations as a whole are often unaware or forgetful of the reality that a minority voice is being lost: the voice of the newer or younger members. May-.t~une 1994 367 Eby ¯ One Voice from the Middle Place The church and world I knew while growing up was one of constant change. Everything was in flux: the saints, liturgy, sacra-ments, music, religion class, celebrations of church feasts, parish customs, and more. Change was experienced as normal, expected, and part of what it meant to be church. The religious life I entered was in a time of transition and experimentation. It was a world defined more often by the past than by any communal vision of the future. By the time I entered, the initial hope and enthusiasm surrounding renewal in the con-gregation was beginning to give way to fear, anger, agonizing searching, split factions of liberal and conservative groups, and a cancerous doubt. Mary Jo Le.ddy ~peaks of this middle place: At this point in the history of religious life, we are in an in-between moment, a "dark night," when the former mod-els of religious life are disintegrating and a future model has yet to become clear . As the memory and vitality of this conservative model begin to fade, some of the energy and legitimation of the liberal model begin to wane. Those who have a vivid memory of the traditional model of church and religious life seem more clear about the value and sig-nificance of the liberal model of religious life. But does the liberal model make sense in itself, that is, without refer-ence to the more traditi'onal model? There are those who, like myself, never knew the traditional model or never knew it for very long. We know the liberal model was launched from the base of traditional religious life, but we are begin-ning to wonder whether there is enough fuel in the liberal model itself to take it very far. To use another metaphor, we are beginning to feel that driving a liberal model of reli-gious !ife is like driving into the future through a rear-view mirror.4 My inner experience of enthusiasm and belief in religious life often came up against contradictory elements in the community. A few of the major examples focused on the expressions of doubt, grief, and anger in the community. Doubt can be a creative ele-ment. Indeed, it is often a necessary companion on any mature journey of faith. However, the doubt I encountered was often a cancerous doubt that could eat into the core of one's being. It was often disheartening to come up against, time and time again, such cancerous doubt within many members. Grief, usually unresolved grief, was also a major issue for many in the community. It was not unusual for me to become an object of unresolved grief and anger over some former aspect of 368 Review for Religious religious life that had not been sufficiently mourned by the other. As a newer member I stood as a symbol of all that had passed away, of all that was new and unsettling. Grief, doubt, and anger intermingled in various degrees to produce within some people what I experienced as death-dealing statements. Such statements are expressed as a sigh of grief, of loss, of anxious uncertainty toward the future on the part of countless members. They are uttered in the midst of the hus-tle and bustle of life, at com-munity meetings, at times of election and moments of deci-sion, moments of reflection. The private and public acknowledgment of personal experience can be necessary for overall health. Yet it must be remembered that, for those who come at times of transition and do not share the same under-standing or knowledge of a community's history, verbal expressions can take on a particular significance. Language can shape our reality, tell us who we are and who we want to be, can uplift or demolish. A word, once it is spoken, can take on a life of its own; it can have the power to bring about that of which it speaks. At the middle places, when doubt reaches crisis proportions, language is of tremendous significance. Language, in this instance, reflected both lack of vision and lack of credible vision among the members. For older members can often communicate mixed signals to enthusiastic newer or younger members and cause a frequent cri-sis of meaning for them. It is odd but not unusual that entry into any group will always involve the unconscious or conscious assimilation of the larger group's attitudes about some things. Declining numbers was one crisis with which I had to deal. There is a basic difference between the exodus I experienced and the exodus others experienced in the 1960s. When I look ahead of me, I see lots of numbers. When I look around me, I see a handful, and we are the younger mem-bers. Around the time of final vows, I had to come to terms with Grief, doubt, and anger intermingled in various degrees to produce within some people what I experienced as death-dealing statementsl May-j~une 1994 369 Eby ¯ One Voice from the Middle Place this unconscious assimilation of the crisis of numbers. Even today, though, at moments of weakness, fatigue, and real honesty, fear can reach into the core of my being, and I begin to wonder if I will be the last one through the door. Other times, often at commu-nity gatherings, I look around the room and wonder, figuratively speaking, what it will feel like (other things being equal, which they will not be) to bury all those older than I. Numbers can still overwhelm me. Middle places, by their very nature as endings and begin-nings, possess not only elements of darkness, but elements of light as well. As a newer or younger member, I received the best of all that the community had to offer--which was possible because of all that had gone before me. Many of the community's resources of time, finances, personnel, and talents were shared with me. The best of the community's continually growing self-awareness in terms of charism, history, and spirituality encircled me. It would merely be redundant to enumerate these many experiences, work-shops, and activities, since the majority of members are already familiar with them and have themselves participated in many of them. Perhaps I had greater freedom in personal choices and deci-sions than the majority of members had upon their entrance and for a good por.tion of their religious lives. I had greater flexibil-ity in forming relationships with people both outside community and inside. I experienced great exposure to different areas, groups, cultures, and ministries in my regional community. Barbara Fiand SNDdeN, in her book Living the Vision (New York: Crossroad, 1990), discusses the dark side of this high mobility and the exces-sive amount of stress related to it. As one who lived this experi-ence and whose number of moves around my regional community exceeds the example Barbara Fiand gives on page 148, I can well attest to what she says. She does not connect to this mobility the reality that newer or younger members would be more easily exposed to the cancerous doubt of which I spoke earlier. Today I and others who have stayed in religious life perceive our com-munity as larger than the local area in which we live. We are usu-ally well-integrated into the larger community in terms of knowledge, experience, and relationships. Throughout my years in religious life, it has not been uncom-mon for other members to say to me that they do not understand why "we" stay. I suspect these are comments of frustration, despair, 370 Rewiew for Religious lack of hope, or just plain bewilderment. They are comments indicative of middle places where lack of clarity, direction, and insight plague us all. Middle places, besides containing elements of darkness and light, are also by their very nature places of continuity. The con-tinuity is in the interiority. At the time I entered my community, differences were everywhere in terms of clothes, experiences, and theologies of the vows and reli-gious life, in spite of the renewal of Vatican II. The time of forma-tion for me involved excessive mobility and excessive exposure to all of this. After a long process of ¯ sorting through the externals, I found connection and identifica-tion through the interior. This exposure brought me to the real-ization that times were different, details were different, but the essence of the story was the same. Grace had invited me into the deeper myth of religious life. I can speak for no one but myself when I say that the deepest connection I was able to encounter and perceive in others was the experience of religious life as the deepening of one's greatest life and freedom in a journey with the Divine. I would suspect that all newer or younger members who have been in religious life for several years can appreciate, if not marvel at, the journey of those who have been here before us. I have found numerous women whose journey through pre- and post-Vatican II times has demanded much of them. The journey of these women reveals a depth of discipleship and commitment that mine could never rival. These women are part of my congregation and of other congre-gations; some have long been part of my journey and some are recently a part. Some were part of my journey for a time, a sig-nificant time. Some are with me in a new way beyond the bound-aries of space and time. Growth and transformation are profoundly connected to courageous, faith-filled women who show that "a journey with God is the only real source of satisfaction there is, All newer or younger members who have been in religious life for several years can appreciate, if not marvel at, the journey of those who have been here before us. May-June 1994 371 Eby ¯ One Voice from the Middle Place and a life of freedom, no matter how demanding, the only life worth living." s My view is necessarily limited. I merely offer a glimpse of a few of the experiences which could be characteristic of one who has known only this middle place in religious life. And this mid-dle place, too, is necessarily limited. Sandra Schneiders, in her critique of Mary Jo Leddy's book Reweaving Religious Life: Beyond the Liberal Model, gives a good description of the general experi-ence of members who were a part of religious life before Vatican II and those who entered just as the council closed:6 Leddy vividly describes the symbolic malaise, lack of cor-porate vision, tenuous sense of belonging, identity confu-sion, and ministerial disarray that is obviously the experience of some religious, notably those in Leddy's own genera-tional cohort. These religious, now in their forties, entered religious life just as Vatican II closed. Religious congrega-tions, with the permission of the council, began a period of wide-ranging experimentation which left formation pro-grams suspended in mid-air between the collectivist identity that was being repudiated and a new identity that had not yet emerged. The corporate resources of religious life enjoyed by their older sisters were not transmitted to these new members, nor did they have the experiential realiza-tion of the dysfunctionality of much of the older system of religious life which fueled the renewal zeal of professed members. Thus, they could not rely on the deep roots of shared history, symbolic cohesion, and corporate identity as everything began to change simultaneously. Nor could they invest with passion in reforming a life they had never lived. Schneiders goes on to state that part of the significance of Leddy's book lies in the dialogue initiated "between those who lived religious life before the council and those whose experience of this life is almost totally postconciliar." This dialogue is impor-tant since a new generation has emerged today which interprets religious life very differently from those whose background embraces the lived experience of Tridentine Catholicism. My hope is that such a dialogue may be initiated. Newer or younger members are often isolated geographically from one another and lack opportunities to connect with one another. They can easily have a different perception and interpretation of reli-gious life because of differences in culture, generation, and a host of other experiences. Such connection could allow shared dis- 372 Review for Religious cussion of situations and concerns that are unique to newer or younger members. Energy could be channeled into discussion of a vision for the future. Congregations need to become aware of the importance of encouraging and providing financial assistance for structures that facilitate connection, reflection, and analysis among the very members who will carry into the 21st century the depth and dynamic of religious life. There is a tremendous significance in encourag-ing and supporting opportunities of this nature for newer or younger members whose dialogue among themselves can then lead to greater creativity when in dialogue with the larger congregation. This type of connection is not, in and of itself, exclusive. It does, how-ever, allow analysis and reflection which can never go on in larger com-munity gatherings simply because newer or younger members tend to be overwhelmed by the concerns and issues and by the sheer numbers of other members. Congregations as a whole rarely can articulate the dreams, hopes, stories, and experiences relative to newer or younger members. It is a simple fact that newer or younger members often constitutes a minute percentage of any congregation. The newer or younger members' analysis and reflection pre-cede the synthesis with the larger group that they hope ultimately to accomplish. To arrive at a communal vision that will animate and give energy for the future is a primary effort of many religious congregations at this time. Such a communal vision will come with a mixture of risk, wisdom, courage, insight, and pain. Many communities like my own have embraced a new creation, a new moment in their history. Most assuredly, we will be held account-able for choices made, choices not made, choices which will affect not just religious life but the church itself in years to come. Even so, we are invited, individually and corporately, to the awareness that "our own carefully laid plans and world orders should never be regarded as more reliable than the unsystematic reality of God's presence and grace."7 Congregations as a whole rarely can articulate the dreams, hopes, stories, and experiences relative to newer or younger members. May-June 1994 373 Eby ¯ One Voice from the Middle Place Notes ~John Shea, Stories of God (Chicago: Thomas More Press, 1978), p. 11. 2 Joan Chittister OSB, "Religious Life and the Need for Salt," Religious Life Review 30 (November/December 1991): 284. 3 See Patricia \¥ittberg SC "The Problem of Generations in Religious Life," Review for Religious 47, no. 6 (November-December 1988): 906, 907,908. 4 Mary Jo Leddy, "Beyond the Liberal Model," Way Supplement 65 (summer 1989): 47. s John A. Sanford, The Man Who 12Vrestled with God (New York: Paulist Press, 1981), p. 100. 6 Sandra Schneiders, review of Mary Jo Leddy's Reweaving Religious Life: Beyond the Liberal Model in Spirituality Today 42 (winter 1990): 368, 369. 7 Letter of Administrative Team of the Sisters of Mercy of the Union on 19 May 1991 to membership. Paradox Blosso~n-t~othered branches Of whitethorn trees Showing no wood And so full of the hum Of honey-heavy bees Seem to say to me That I should not Register such emptiness In the presence of such plenty Leaning fragrantly down to me In the final days of May. And I say: There is no should! I am a tree Made wood by my winter; Seasons that oppose Are two opposing goods Where envy may not enter To destroy the gift Of paradox. Bernadette McCarrick RSM 374 Review for Religious CATHERINE M. HARMER Religious, the Laity, and the Future of Catholic Institutions Many Catholics have grown up with the assumption that Catholic institutions, especially schools and hospi-tals, are a normal and permanent part of the landscape. Whether or not their children attend either parish or pri-vate Catholic schools, whether or not ~hey ever use the local Catholic hospital, it takes only the hint that these will be closed to cause a great stir. A second common assumption is that the religious congregations who founded and maintained these institutions will continue to do so in the future. Yet these institutions are more at risk now than ever before. Most of the Catholic institutions in this country had their origin in the last century. The parochial school sys-tem developed out of the concern of 19th-century bishops to maintain the faith for the immigrant populations from Catholic European countries. What has become the largest private health system in the country started very simply with religious sisters caring for the sick .and the poor in their homes. The hospitals built and run by their con-gregations were a response to a need to provide profes-sional healthcare in a Catholic setting. For the most part the organizers, builders, and managers of Catholic insti- Catherine M. Harmer MMS has worked as a psychologist in consultation with religious congregations and health systems in Africa, Asia, Latin America, and the United States. Her address is Medical Mission Sisters; 300 W. Wellens Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19120. life in service May-June 1994 375 Harmer ¯ Religious, the Laity, and the Future tutions for educationl health, and social services were religious sisters, brothers, and priests. Even in the parochial school sys-tems, the bishops depended on the ~isters and brothers to provide the teachers and administrators, and to do so at little cost to parish or diocese. This work of founding and developing the major Catholic institutions, private, parochial, and diocesan, was an immense gift of religious to the church in the United States. Initially they served the immigrant Catholic population. As the years went on, the Catholic contribution was recognized beyond the boundaries of the church, especially in the field of healthcare. Given the social and political status of lay Catholics in the 19th and early 20th centuries, it is doubtful if they could have provided either the impetus or the skill to build these institutions, though their finan-cial contributions were the base for all of them. There is no ques-tion that establishing the institutions was a good thing for religious to do. The question today is whether they can or should continue t.o put as much into them now and in the future as they formerly did. Over the last twenty-five years, there has been a steady decline in the numbers of sisters and brothers, and a steady rise in their median age. During the same period, out of necessity rather than choice, the number of lay people in Catholic institutions has also risen. The cost of maintaining the institutions has increased, par-tially because of salary and benefit increases for the lay staff. In healthcare the potential decline of Catholic-sponsored hospitals was delayed, first by the Hill-Burton funds made available for building and then by the increased availability of third-party insur-ance, Medicare, and Medicaid. The decline of Catholic schools started earlier because there was little financial aid for them except occasional foundation grants. Efforts to acquire tuition credits or direct state support for Catholic schools continue to fail. In many dioceses the future of Catholic schools, even the parochial ones, depends on the ability of the parishes to maintain them independently of the diocese. Thus, only in the wealthier parishes can Catholic schools con-tinue to exist. Even these will last only if the priests and parish-ioners are willing to see fairly large proportions of their income go to the school and if parents are willing to pay increasingly higher tuition. There is the clear possibility that the Catholic school system will gradually disappear through attrition, with 376 Review for Religious only a few schools remaining for those who can afford private education. Creative efforts have been made by congregations. They have involved greater numbers of lay people in their institutions, main-taining sponsorship of the institutions and control over their mis-sion so as not to lose the congregation's charism and values. Particularly in healthcare there have been mergers of different types, from full takeover of one system by another to the collabo-ration of two or more systems forming a new system. Still, while the presence of religious in the institutions continues to decline, the number of lay women and men at high levels of management and in board positions grows. Lay members of the institutions find themselves attracted

PI'S RELIGIOSITY IN YANN MARTEL'S LIFE OF PI Yektiningtias English Literature, Art and Language Faculty, State University of Surabaya yektiningtias@gmail.com Drs. Much. Khoiri, M.Si English Literature, Art and Language Faculty, State University of Surabaya Much_choiri@yahoo.com Abstrak Agama merupakan istitusi mengenai ketuhanan. Agama berisi sekumpulan pengertian dan kebiasaan yang mengacu pada individu. Individu tersebut adalah individu yang religius, pernah religius, atau bisa jadi religius. Partisipasi dalam suatu hal yang berbau religius didefinisikan sebagai religiusitas. Individu yang memiliki religiusitas tidak berarti mereka menganut sebuah agama. Selagi mereka melakukan hal hal yang sebuah agama perintahkan terhadap para pengikutnya, seperti percaya kepada Tuhan, mencintai ciptaan Tuhan, dan melakukan tindakan religius, individu tersebut dapat dikatakan religius. Life of Pi, sebuah novel karya Yann Martel, menggambarkan religiusitas seorang anak laki –laki, Piscine Molitor Patel atau Pi. Sejalan dengan hal tersebut, tujuan dari pernelitian ini adalah untuk menggambarkan religiusitas dari Pi dalam hidupnya dan mengungkapkan faktor-faktor yang mempengaruhi religiusitas tersebut. Metode analisis secara tidak langsung berdasarkan teori psikologi remaja karya Frederick Tracy karena sebagian besar novel tersebut menyuguhkan kehidupan Pi ketika dia masih dalam masa remaja. Hasil penelitian menunjukkan bahwa Pi telah memenuhi tiga komponen religiusitas-keyakinan, perasaan, dan tindakan. Terlebih, ada lima faktor yang mempengaruhi religiusitas Pi. Faktor tersebut adalah pengaruh keluarga, pengaruh pekerja professional, kebutuhan, ketertarikan, dan rasionalitas. Kata kunci: agama, religiusitas, komponen religiusitas, remaja Abstract Religion is the institution of godness. It contains a set of meaning and behavior referring to individuals. The individuals are religious, were religious, or could be religious. The participation in religious things is defined as religiosity. Individuals who have religiosity do not mean they commit to a religion. As long as they do what a religion tells its followers to do, like believing God, loving God's creation, and doing religious action, the individuals are considered religious. Life of Pi, a novel by Yann Martel, depicts the religiosity of a boy, Piscine Molitor Patel or Pi. In line with that, the purpose of this study is to depict religiosity of Pi in his life and reveal the factors that influence it. The method of the analysis indirectly works mostly based on Frederick Tracy's psychology of adolescence theory because mostly the novel presents the life of Pi when he is in adolescent period. The result of this study shows that Pi has fulfilled three components of religiosity—knowing, feeling, and doing. Moreover, there are five factors that influence Pi's religiosity. They are family's influence, professional workers' influence, needs, interest, and rationality. Keywords: religion, religiosity, component of religiosity, adolescence INTRODUCTION Fiction, by its definition, is describing imaginary events and people. The contents of a prose literature which are included in fiction are drawn from imagination that shows creativity or original thought. An unrealistic plot like a boy who flies by a broom, talking animals, aliens, or monsters that attacks the earth often cause delusion. Thus, an author puts truths to make the work more realistic although as the mentality history, a work of art can be a manifestation of reality, critic of reality, and alternative thought of reality (Supaat, 2008: v). A modern literature has a notion that art or literature is a matter of creativity. Often the creativity is bounded with the legalistic and formalistic doctrines of religion. Thus Western societies put the religion aside from their literature. The literature is free and free from religious matters. On the contrary Y.B Mangunwijaya in Supaat (2004: 175) stated that basically all literatures are religious. T.S Elliot in Supaat (2004: 166) added that the value of literature must be seen from the ethic and religiousness. If there is an idea or agreement of a society of a religious ethic so the literature must be 'good' like the religious ethic. Religion within a fiction is based on religious ideas from the real world. The religious ideas can be included into a fictional prose because basically fictional characters are imaginary. Although the characters are made up, they still have people's same willingness, needs, and drives in the real world. What people do in real world includes seeking religious understandings. (http://altreligion. about.com/od/artandculture/a/Religion-And-Fiction.htm retrieved on March 7th 2013). Based on the explanation, art works often raises religious issues to make the story becomes more real. The issues contain the truths from real religious ideas. The authors put more understanding to the issues from the facts. A character seeks for religious understanding for some reasons. The character may find peace and satisfied feeling towards his or her life in religion. Although religion is a term for conceivable religions whether formal or informal (Ferm, 1959: 647) a character does not always practice what a particular religion that he or she commits' rules. A satisfaction is found deep inside a feeling. Because it is related to feeling, it can be related to religiosity. Stolz (2009: 347) defines religiosity as what an individual chooses, feels, believes, and acts that refer to a religion that already exists or to a self-made religion. Religion itself is a cultural symbol-system that responds to problems and possibilities that are related to a very important reality. This system influences everyday life and cannot be controlled directly. Stolz continues with religiosity is when an individual prays, sacrifices, believes, loves or fear his god while the religious symbol-system or religions are like Christianity and Islam (Stolz, 2009: 347). An author may put his understanding about religious things to his works. 'Literature going behind God' is an effort of a man in letter by his works in which nuances in religious with his total comprehension of faith , so that he could comprehend fully of his seeking of God, his Creator, and literature is a dynamic, productive, and creative media (Supaat, 2004: 176). Yann Martel puts his idea of religion and religious things into his fictional work, Life of Pi. "Pi is interested in religions: so am I. Pi is open to all faiths: so am I. Pi is comfortable in different Godhouses: so am I. There is a sociocultural component to religions. Just as there are different ways of feeding the body, there are different ways of feeding the soul. Each religion is one group of people's attempt to understand ultimate reality. I think in each one there is a portion of truth and a portion of error. So I see in all great religions the same frame of being, only seen from a different perspective." (http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/Books/story?id=124838&page=5 retrieved on March 7th 2013) Life of Pi mostly presents such unrealistic things and events. The carnivorous trees and an impossible 227 days survival of a boy together with a Bengal tiger floating on a boat in Pacific Ocean seem hard to dissolve by mind. Although these things are in some ways unrealistic, Martel puts Gods and religions ideas into this work. The Author's Note in the beginning of his novel states that the story comes up from a man named Mr. Patel. Yann Martel, the author of Life of Pi, was in India in searching for inspiration here he met a man in a café who then tells him to meet a man with great story i.e. Piscine Molitor Patel. He then says that the story will make him believe in God. Life of Pi is uniquely presenting its adventurous content with religious values and zoology. Yann Martel was intelligently put those different things into synchronized single unit. The coordination of the true story of Mr. Patel told in first person is incredible. The story begins about Mr. Patel's education and working life which serve with the fact that he was a student of religious studies and zoology. Then it shifts to his life when he was a boy, son of a zoo owner. In this part, the story provides facts about some animals' life inside the cage or out there in the wild. The story next progress is story about Pi's religious life when he was in his teen that reveals his strange religious practice. The 227 days survival in Pacific Ocean on a boat with a Bengal tiger is the next part of this incredible story and it is closed with he is survived. This novel once comes up with controversy of its originality. Some critics come up with their idea that this novel resembles Scliar's Max and the Cats, a story about a family of German zookeepers sets sail to Brazil. The ship is shipwrecked and only a young man survives after floating at sea with a wild jaguar. This issue then goes down as a discussion between Scliar and Martel done. But Martel had been firstly mentioned Scliar's name in his Author's Note part of his book. (http://www.sparknotes.com /lit/lifeofpi/context.html, retrieved on February 12th, 2013). This issue affects the outstanding content of this novel. Some critics, however, still appreciate the novel. This novel makes the reader recalls the story of Ernest Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea Yann Martel was an author of seven awards in literature. His first book entitled The Facts Behind Helsinki Roccamatios and Other Stories was a collection of four short stories published in 1993 deals with themes like illness, the anguish of youth, grief, and loss that blend with the lunacy of 20th century history. This book achieved Journey Prize in Canada. Martel's second book, his first in the form of novel Self published in 1996. This book succeeded to win Chapters/Books in Canada First Novel Award. This novel's theme was study of sexual orientation and identity. Also Martel was the author of a collection of letters to the prime minister of Canada, What Is Stephen HarperReading? (http://Literature.britishcouncil.org/ yann-martel on 17 oct 2012) After the publication of his novel in 2001 Life of Pi, his name was widely recognized by literature world. This novel was able to win five different awards. In 2001, this novel won Governor General's Literary Award for Fiction in Canada and also Hugh MacLennan Prize for Fiction. A year later, it won Commonwealth Writers Prize in Eurasia Region as the Best Book although it won over the shortlist. Also in the same year, Life of Pi was able to get the Man Booker Prize for Fiction that made him create much of literary splash rather than with his first two books and it also won the Boeke Prize in South Africa. As the recent achievement, Life of Pi has been filmed in 2012 and achieved a great success. Martel's works have been praised seven different literary awards although his life began with various odd jobs after he graduated for a degree in philosophy in Trent University in Ontario. He ever became a tree planter, dishwasher, and security guard before he committed in writing at the age of 27. Although he began his life with various odd jobs, his decision to write books after that was a right decision. He got praised for his ability to make multi themes and problems that are not common to be bound in to one. For his ability to combine uncommon multi themes and problems, he succeeded to make Life of Pi to become a novel of great combination of religious values, zoology, and adventurous life. As the opening of the novel, it is told that the novel will make you believe in God. This story reveals Pi's journey of life since he was child until he was mature and graduated from university. This story provides about Pi's religious life which is strange and it affects his understanding about his life and God's destiny for him. The combination of religious theme and zoology of the novel is purposely done for enriching Pi's religious life portraits. Pi is kind of person with maturity in his mind to combine his understanding about God of his religions towards the objects around him although he is still young. As human life is divided into four divisions (Tracy, 1920: 10) in which the first period is the period of childhood. The second is period of youth where this is the period of procreative function to the process of self maturing. The next period is the period of manhood and the last is the period of decay that is being dead. As the character of Pi in Yann Martel's Life of Pi is in the second period of life, he experiences great things in his religious life. In his adolescence that is ranged from 12 up to 24 years of life, Tracy (1920: 187) points out that, youngsters seek for spiritual meaning in religion as well as from the objects of nature, events, and their relationship with other fellows. Piscine Molitor Patel or Pi is originally a Hindu. He lives in a Hindu neighborhood when he was kid until he is adolescence. His religious practice has become strange when he meets two religious people i.e. a priest and an imam. Thus, this introduction constructs his understanding about other religions, Christianity and Islam. His decision to commit three religions, Hinduism, Christianity, and Islam simultaneously is also influenced by Bapu Gandhi who said that the most important thing is to love God. Pi has a strong love towards God although he is still a young man. Pi is having a disliking towards his biology teacher who does not believe in God's existence. Pi sees the doubt on the important of religion and the existence of God as just a while. Every man will pass it someday and reach a happy life. Although Pi is still young, he has already experienced his deep feeling about being religious and to religion itself. The feeling creates him to experience religious flaming. This deep religious feeling or religiosity happens in his teen. His religious feeling seems have mutualism with his personality as adolescence. His life whether they are individual or cultural and social more or less influence personality and affect his decision in understanding religions as the way to love God and being a religious on his multi religions practices. This religiosity that is seen from his religion combinations stresses the importance of individual factors, including social background and personal history. Those backgrounds are to build up his mind of committing three different religions at the same time. Thus this study is to reveal the form of his religiosity in the novel and the influencing factors. RESEARCH METHOD The source of this study is taken from a novel by Yann Martel, Life of Pi reprinted and republished in New York in 2012. The data collection is by analyzing the quotations, phrases, dialogues, or monologues in which reveal thought, speech, action, and attitude that reflects the idea of religiosity of the main character, Pi, from the novel Life of Pi. This study of religiosity will be applied by the concept of religiosity with its components, modes, dimension, orientation, and changes that often experienced by people. The religiosity used to determine and explain about the main character Pi issues of religiosity. To analyze the background of his commitment, it is used psychology of adolescence concept that consists of several psychological points of view about relationship between adolescence and family and religious life of adolescence. Close reading of the novel is done first to determine the major issue of it. The major issues are collected and proposed into a topic of the study by seeing the conflict, the monologue, the dialogue in the novel. After the topic is already decided, it is tried to figure out what should be analyzed with the topic. Thus it is collected two statements of problems. There are the depiction of Pi's religiosity and the factors that influence his religiosity. The next step is searching related information about concept of the topic and to figure it out, it is used religiosity concept and theory of psychology of adolescence for the analysis and the conclusion. CONCEPT OF RELIGIOSITY Religiosity is a concept that has a bound with religion. This concept of religiosity can be defined in some definitions that relate to the religion itself. Supaat (2008: 175) defines religiosity as an aspect which lies inside the deep heart, flaming in the inner heart, personal attitudes which more or less are mystery for the other people, because are based on intimate psychology i.e. universal totality, that includes human's ratio and feeling, inside the personal being. This religious attitude is pointed on personal side of an individual toward his God, and having attitudes as what God wants. Stolz (2009: 347).continues with religiosity is when an individual prays, sacrifices, believes, loves or fear his god. Religiosity can also be defined as participation in religious rituals, various behaviors, and attitude in group or society by an individual (Theodorson, 1969: 345). Rituals are usually what a religion tells the adherents to do. Whitehouse (2004: 4) explains rituals as actions that have lack of intrinsic meanings although there are possible interpretations or symbolic motivations that may be the background of the rituals. Although these actions are lack of intrinsic meaning, the ordeals are ritualized and the speculation of their significance and meaning are still present. Focusing on implicit motivations of people doing the behaviors has some tactical merits (Whitehouse, 2004:24). The explicit religious concept that ethnographers interpret is often difficult to differentiate that the concept is the interpretation of the ethnographers or the people's actual explicit religious concepts. The other reason is from the psychological point of view, implicit concepts are better predictors of behavior. The people can also be manipulated to do the actions because they are not consciously aware and will of their response to the stimulus. This leads to explicit reason to do the behaviors instead of the real motivation of them. The explicit knowledge is likely consisting of post hoc rationalization rather than a guide of the motivation for the behavior (Whitehouse 2004: 25). On the contrary, Fazio stated in Whitehouse (2004: 25) says that the conflicts between the implicit concept and explicit concept are not always true all the time. He says that explicit belief can also be a guide to the motivation. People who do the same ritual procedures regularly results in habituation. Those automated habits can make the people to have less reflection of the symbolic meanings of the rituals (Whitehouse, 2004: 6) for example in religious speech. People can be feeling bored of the doctrinal repetition. Rituals are the main things to do in order to get merits and not being sinful. As Tracy (1920: 183) stated that religion involves man's attitudes towards the Supreme Being without age differences and the main thing is to do positive attitudes towards the Being. To support these, an adherent often does various behaviors like fasting and to behave or keeping his or her good attitude by helping other people and doing good things. God is the invisible but owns the highest power and attitudes towards the Being, as sacred and profane. Durkheim (1915: 37) states that there are two divisions of world. They are sacred in which is the one containing all and profane which is the other all. These are the distinctive characteristics of religious thought. Sacred thing is not only about the personal beings called gods and spirits but a rock, a house, a tree, or anything can be sacred. Profane is what relates to daily life experience of human beings. For example, it is about someone's attitude that results in sins or the way a religion teaches human being to have a meaningful life by giving charity and helping one another so it will result in man's goodness. The representations which express the sacred things, the virtues and powers that they have, or the relation with profane things are like beliefs, myths, dogmas, and legends (Durkheim, 1915: 37) As well as Theodorson, Tarigan (2007:11) supports that. The definition of religiosity for him is as the human attitude which comes from God's blessing. God blesses human to believe in God, to enjoy modest life, to give charity, to help other people, to be lovable, and to be friendly. Because of the participations, behaviors, and attitudes based on particular religion that an adherent must do, sometimes these will cause strain to the adherents. They may feel under pressure because if they are not doing them, there will not be merits that they will get but sins and being afraid of God. God is someone who watches you to see that you behave yourself. (Powell, 1963: 289) The concept of religiosity is also generally accepted as multidimensional phenomenon. The phenomenon happens in the society related, influenced, or caused by many dimensions. The dimensions come from cultural, social, or individual contexts. Religious as the result of practicing and believing religion is also influenced by the religion's system of beliefs, rituals, and practices. Thus, individual actions are often influenced by the religion. Because of factors like afraid of being sinful person or to be considered as a religious person, adherents may do more than what a religion tells. This actualization of excessive religious, religiosity (Concise Oxford English Dictionary Eleventh Edition), besides to show that they are religious by doing it excessively, it also can be deviated from the real doctrines. It is agreeable that religion has to do with the relationship between man and his Maker or specifically it is the relationship between man's attitudes towards whatever he believes to be the owner of the highest power in universe (Tracy, 1920: 183). Because of the existence of attitudes, it needs to differentiate religion and religiosity although they bound each other. Religiosity is something that adherents do from what a religion orders. Then, religion defines as follows A religion is a set of meanings and behaviors having reference to individuals who are or were or could be religious. (Ferm, 1959: 647) The statements means that a religion is a container of what an individual must do or must not do either the individual is religious, was religious, or could be religious. Thus, it is only a term that contains all formal or informal religions in the world (Ferm, 1959: 647). Religion is the institution of godness which is unified system of beliefs, rituals, and practices that typically involve a broader community or believers who share common definitions of the sacred and the profane. (freebook.uvu.edu/SOC1010 retrieved on 18th October 2012) Supporting Ferm, Evans (1978: 305) has a definition of religion in which also has relationship between things or power which are uneasy to explain. Because religion freely allows a man to relate himself to the outer power that cannot be explained with science, quality and intensity of man's religiosity of his religion can be low or high. A man considered himself as religious man not only because he believes on religion , he can be considered as religious without doing religion's doctrines or a man who does it but is considered as not religious one as explained as follows that it needs a deep understanding to consider a man as religious person or not. To be religious is to effect in some way and in some measure a vital adjustment (however tentative and incomplete) to whatever is reacted to or regarded implicitly or explicitly as worth of serious and ulterior concern. (Ferm, 1959: 647) Supaat (2008: 175) stated that someone who is religious is defined as human being who has serious inner heart, pious, careful, and with deep spiritual considerations. GENERAL COMPONENT OF RELIGIOSITY For the social psychologist, religion has five main facets. They are the ideological or beliefs, the ritualistic or practice, the experiential or feelings, the intellectual or knowledge and the consequential or effects (Watts and Williams, 1988: 10). These facets bound into one dimension of religiosity. On the other hand, Duke (1988) defines the general components of religiosity seen from social psychologist are knowing or cognition, feeling or affection, and doing or behavior. Knowing or cognition is abstract. Knowing about things that are related to religiosity and religions are inside every man's mind. This is an ideology. The people believe what he believes that the things are true and good for him. Because ideology is only idea in this context in idea of religious things, the only thing that can be seen from this is the realization of this belief in the real world. For example a person believes that a religion is true. People cannot see his belief but can only see how the person shows his belief true religious doings like doing rituals. The feeling or affective is the feeling dimension of religiosity towards the social situations. The social situations contain things that God has created. Human being, animals, plants, goods, or institution are the creation of God. People who have religiosity are feeling grateful of the existence of His creations. Doing or behavior is the action of showing religiosity. This action aims to get positive effect. Religious doings are the realizations of religion as ideology and the feeling towards the God and His creation in the world. The behaviors are like attending religious rituals like servings God as a duty, studying about religion as the feeling to enlarge his knowledge and religiosity to his God, doing charity as the praise for his sufficiency and love feeling towards fellow, and helping the others to tighten the fellowship. In the matter of religious behavior, cognitive scientists more or less ignored the roles of explicit religious ideas and sentiments as the motivations of people doing the religious behavior (Whitehouse, 2004: 24). Boyer stated in Whitehouse (2004: 24) says that people are feeling the compulsion to participate in rituals because the natural environment often produces contaminants so the people use the rituals as the detection of and protection against them. These specializations are actually just normal cognitive systems. Of these components of religiosity, many researchers still hopes for more developed ways to measure religiosity of someone that the participation in institutional religion because there are differences in religious attitudes and experiences between dominations and between different people with the same denomination and there are fact of the equivalency of average attendance figures (Watts and Williams, 1988: 11). Some people may define themselves as religious in some sense although they play no part in organized religion. From a survey on religious scale items from Independent Television Authority Survey stated in (Watts and Williams, 1988: 11), individuals scored high on religiosity because they classified themselves as very religious or fairly religious, are certain that having some religious beliefs lead a good life, without belief in god life is meaningless, religion helps to maintain standard and morals of society, there is God, god watches each person, are very likely to think of god when they are worried or happy, religious belief affected their everyday lives. MODES OF RELIGIOUS INVOLVEMENT Individual participation on religion consists of two modes of religious involvements. Duke, in his journal, states that the modes are personal mode and institutional mode. The personal mode is built of religious beliefs, feelings, and behaviors. These are found in personal and individualized religion. The person accepts doctrinal orthodoxy from the cultural society around (Duke: 1998). In institutional mode, the religious beliefs, feelings, and behaviors are found in formalized and institutionalized religion. This mode accepts them in which related to religious rituals and worship services like in a particular church or other religions. While Duke divides an individual involvement is a religion as personal and institutional mode, the others like Davidson stated in Duke, separates it to private and public modes. RELIGIOUS ORIENTATION People's interest toward particular religion that makes them religious depends on their own decision. It is whether they are extrinsically or intrinsically oriented (Allport, 1967: 144). Allport's point of view of extrinsic religious is caused by outer reasons or influence. The reason why an individual is committing religious acts aims in seizing mundane goals like feeling comforted and protected and also is like to get a social status and approval. To measure an individual religiosity based on extrinsic orientation is by seeing the influence given by peers, family members, or professional workers. Durkheim demonstrates how process that influence by society motivates individual action. The only source of life at which we can morally reanimate ourselves is that formed by the society of our fellow beings; the only moral forces with we can sustain and increase our own are those which we get from others. (Durkheim, 1915: 425) It is different from intrinsic orientation which assumed without achieving a mundane goal even self denying quality as the reason of religious involvement. This orientation arises from the goal of the contents of the religious tradition itself. To measure this orientation is by seeing the personality. CHANGE IN RELIGIOUS COMMITMENT AND PARTICIPATION Life events relate to religiosity. Peter Berger stated in Cornwall (1998) states that plausibility structures i.e. family, church, or voluntary organizations and conversations with the others are important and can give influence to religiosity. Because there are many life events that will influence someone's religiosity, there is chance of the change of his or her commitment and participation in religion. The changes are change in belief and activity over the life cycle, religion disaffiliation and dropping out, religious conversion and reactivation, religious change as personal development. The changing of religious belief and activity can be related to life cycle. Teens or early twenties may have less religious belief and activity than they who are in late twenties or thirties. This changing is caused by several backgrounds like family backgrounds, early socialization, and to developmental issues of adolescence and young adulthood (Albrecht and Cornwall: 1998) In religious disaffiliation and dropping out, an individual decides to not join one organization because she or he chooses to join another or decides to stop his religious involvement in the organization. Even though this is action of switching, it does not mean they loose their religious faith. They only choose the best belief for them. Religious conversion has often been defined as a rather sudden process consisting of new religious insight or experience which leads to greater religiosity on the part of individual involved (Donahue taken from Albrecht and Cornwall: 1998). Supporting Donahue, Starbuck (1900: 21) added that sudden changes of character like from evil to goodness, sinfulness to righteousness, and indifference to spiritual insight or activity. In the adolescent period, the conversion is an awakening. The conversion can happen in many motifs: conversion from private investigation of alternative ideologies to highly social, emotionally arousing experience (Lofland and Skonovd stated in Albrecht and Cornwall: 1998). Starbuck (1900: 49) states that the motives and forces behind the religious awakening is based on the nature of conversion. To study the motives and fears, the people are grouped into their likeness and differences. They are fears, other self-regarding motives, altruistic motives, following out a moral ideal, remorse and conviction for sin, response to teaching, example and imitation, urging and other forms of social pressure (Starbuck, 1900: 49) Religious development changes as the individual goes matures. This maturation process is primarily seen through psychological study without focuses on the impact of normative events like marriage, first job, child bearing, and death (Albrecht and Cornwall: 1998) PSYCHOLOGY OF ADOLESCENCE Adolescence is the second stage of human life. In this stage, adolescents will experience a period of the birth of procreative function until the full maturity of their powers (Tracy, 1920: 10). This stage is begun in the second dozen period of human life. The first dozen period is childhood, the third is manhood and the fourth or the last period is the beginning of decay of the powers until death. In other word, the adolescent period started from the age of 12 years. Supporting Tracy, Goldenson (1984: 17-18) explains further about the beginning of adolescent of girls and boys. He stated that adolescent period of girls is begun when they are 12 until 24 years. Boys have a year later the beginning of adolescence than girls, which is from 13 until 22 years. The period of adolescence is subdivided into two periods but some writers divided it into three. In the three divisions of this period, there are early, middle, and later adolescence. In this division, the beginning of adolescence happens in the four or five first year while the rest divisions follow this. In two divisions, the period of adolescence is subdivided into early and later adolescence. Both are lined when the adolescents are in their sixteen or seventeen years of life. During the period of adolescence, adolescents will experience a period of puberty. Puberty is a period when sexual life is born and it is also the beginning of procreative quality of them. Although puberty will happen to every person, the birth is varied between an adolescent to the other adolescents. This means that an adolescent can have it when he is 12 and the other may have it in his 14. Besides puberty is the birth of sexual maturity, in some civilized people, puberty is a sign of social and religious obligations of individual. … Frequently by some new emphasis on the social and religious obligations of the individual, evidently with a half-conscious recognition of the close association between the racial and the religious life. (Tracy, 1920: 17). The same thing happens to adolescents in Christian Communions. In this community, adolescents are hoped to take new step of their religiousness and begin to take their religious responsibility. This will lead them to the closer and more open relationship with their church. As well as Tracy, Goldenson (1984: 17-18) stated that during this period, adolescence will experience major various changes that have different rates one to the other. The changes include changing of sexual characteristic, body image, sexual interest, social roles, intellectual development, and self concept. Tracy (1920: 18) stated that in the matter of thought and feeling, adolescence is the period of 'deepening'. The feeling of adolescents will experience a flaming where they will find deepest meaning of things. All experiences of them will make them to interpret them deeper and bound them into a higher thought. In this case Evans (1978: 93) supports Tracy. He explained that in period of operational thinking, adolescents will not face conflict in thought process from the concrete to the abstract form. The adolescents will be aware of logical of basic things and the formulation of hypotheses (Evans, 1978: 93). Thus, they will seek for the logical reasons behind some things, conditions, or situations around them then they began to understand them as something that they have known or purposely introduced when they were kid. The mind of the adolescent reaches out to that which is implicated or involved in the presentation. In a deeper sense than ever before, the mind now takes hold upon the ideal, builds castles, lays plans, and indulges in day dreams, with all kindred psychic adventures (Tracy, 1920: 18) The feeling of adolescents will be richer than when they are children. This will also become actual. The combination of feeling, thought will result of the birth of emotion. Adolescence has primary emotions. They are love, fear, anger, and curiosity. The adolescence does not learn the emotions. The emotions are inborn. Other emotions are built on those primary emotions. Love is a feeling of strong affection or attachment. This emotion makes adolescence concerns for someone or feels delight in an object, person, or situation. This primary emotion builds some secondary emotions like affection, joy, pleasure, and delight. Adolescence will feel alone and insecure without love. Fear is an emotion which ranges from worry. Hurlock stated in Kapunan (1971: 55) categorizes fear into three: fear of material objects, like animals, airplane, elevator; fear of social relationship, like being alone, meeting people for the first time, making a speech; general fear, like poverty, death, darkness, physical incapacity, marriage. Gates and Pressey stated in Kapunan (1971: 56) say that fear has positive values. Fear causes someone to be cautious and careful, thrifty, sober, and the fear prevents one from doing wrong. But, fear also can make one from going a head and can lead to failure. There are three ways to overcome fear. They are forewarning in which the adolescence should be cautioned of something they are afraid of, assurance in which they are told that nothing is to fear, and to live the experience. Some secondary emotions of fear are moods, anxiety, and worry. Anger is an emotion from resentment to rage. This emotion is caused by inability to do or get what is wanted. It may be being teased, treated unfairly, and being bossed. The expressions of anger are like disobedience, resistance, sneers, threats, satire, gossip, or oral attack. This anger also has positive effect. This can make one accomplish more, make one pause and re-examine his practices and limitations. Curiosity is the beginning of knowledge and learning when one starts asking question. This interest or curiosity makes children being aware of the changes around them. This makes their interest aroused. The birth of emotions of adolescence makes the adolescents becoming aware of the combination of those emotions. After that, the action rises. When children's action is imitative, habitual and automatic adolescents' action will be less imitative, habitual, and automatic. It will be controlled by the will although it is not fully controlling the action. It is because their intelligence control is spasmodic and intermittent. FAMILY AND ADOLESCENCE Family condition whether it is related to the parents' attitudes influences the attitude of adolescence. Since many of attitudes or values own by children are well structured in their eight or nine years that are difficult to change, this means the home environment is the primary factor involved in structuring them. Powell (1963: 266) added that although parents have strong role of structuring children's attitudes and values, the home environment also influences them. It is including children's observation of his parent's interaction with each other and with other adults. According to Warnath in Powell (1963: 267) home is the place for children of learning developmental social skill and the desire to participate in activities related to other individuals. THE RELIGIOUS LIFE OF ADOLESCENCE Everyman is basically a religious being. They are capable of religion not at this age or that age. They are always capable of this. Although everyman's naturally religious, they are not capable of it in the same sense. It is not also the ideas and feelings towards a religion are the same in every man. An immature man does not have the same things as a mature man has of the ideas and feelings. It can be said that child's capability of religious experience is not the same in form and content as youth's and adult's. Since religion is a matter of thinking, feeling, and acting, children who are not mature, they themselves have intellectual power over their feeling and behavior (Tracy, 1920: 186). As long as they are given early introduction to God, their life is genuinely religious (Tracy, 1920: 186) as they easily absorb things around them. Thus, the character of children's religious life is based on their mental life and this progress. As everyone knows, child absorbs things around him but without the knowledge of his sense. Although the child tries to look deeper about the knowledge he gets from his surroundings, there is not larger degree of understanding that he will get. Although child may comprehend and speak bout the un-sensed for example the unseen and untouched things, there is not understanding about it. They only know that they can see the unseen if they have keener vision and where to look them. During childhood, children are told that God sees them but they cannot see God and God is near to them but they still cannot see God. They may ask such questions but without understanding. Thus, they will be satisfied to any answers given to them. Religion of child and the religion of youth have much in common but there are still features that differ one from another. The religion of youth is more subjectively personal than the religion of children. Religion of children is natural religion but the youth's is spiritual religion. Youth tries to find spiritual meaning of objects, events, and relationship of human life. Religion influences moral values as well as social attitudes not only for adults but also children and adolescents. Children know about religion early from the one closed to them like from parents. Since the children's religion is natural, as long as they are given early introduction about this, they will likely be religious. This differs to adolescent. Early introduction to concept of religion that is relationship between God and man often creates conflict in adolescence. They begin to question the concepts they have absorbed (Powell, 1963: 284) because they start to find out the hidden meaning of something, like no children. For in childhood there is a simple, direct response to the impressions of the environment, on the sensori-motor reflex plane, without the possibility of the deeper and stronger emotions, and with a minimum of logical interpretation or critical analysis. In youth this naive outlook gives way by degrees to one in which the subjective elements play a more prominent part, with the simple feelings giving place to the profounder emotions, mere sense-perception being supplemented by the more ambitious processes of cognition, and the instinctive and habitual motor reactions by deliberate choice and higher volition. (Tracy, 1920: 189) Adolescence is an important period of dedication in participation of organized religions in the world even in primitive form (Ferm, 1959: 378). Ferm also states that When the religious nurture of childhood must issue in personal commitment if significant religious maturity is to follow (Ferm, 1959: 378) Tracy (1920: 191) distincts two distinctive features of adolescence's religion. The first are the experience of intellectual doubts and difficulties whether it is accompanied by emotional tension and upheaval or not. The second is the experience known as conversion. Doubts and difficulties are related to religious questions. As children is very dogmatic which means they greatly absorbs what others say and answer based on questions that they ask, the mind of adolescence begins to criticize that. Ideas which have heretofore dwelt side by side in consciousness without any sense of clash or conflict, may now reveal to the more alert mind of youth certain incongruities and contradictions. (Tracy, 1920: 193) If the adolescence cannot deal with the idea that they have with the reality that they face, there will be conflict which leads to doubts of what they have believed. In some researches stated by Powell (1963: 286) relating to loss of religious interest with adolescent, show that young people do not loose 100 percents the interest of religion but they do not seem feeling satisfied with traditional religious belief and ritual. In this period, he added that confusion seems to happen that may lead to guilt feeling. Family environment which is included attitudes of father and mother influences the development of young people's religious attitudes, Parents often give their children with strict adherence to specific religion. This habit can make confusion to the children when they come to a more liberal home (Powell, 1963: 286). However, children with less religious even irreligious parents will make them insecure and envy of seeing their classmates involved in religious experience denied them. A better point of view of religion will be in the attitudes of children whose parents are religious and liberal. These combinations seem to make result in developing more mature religious views (Powell, 1963: 288). According to Allport cited in Powell (1963: 290) religious sentiments occur from needs, interests, temperament, rationality, and cultural response. Young people seek for new experiences, awareness of the presence of God, to be useful and unselfish, to participate responsibly, and become members of a wholesome fellowship (Powell, 1963: 291) Kuhlen and Arnold cited in Powell (1963: 289) agrees that religious beliefs become increasingly abstract with the increase of age. The more age he has, the more likely he becomes religious. For many adolescents, leaving religious practice is temporary since they will enter their adulthood that makes them likely to become affiliated with religious practice. DEPICTION OF PI'S RELIGIOSITY Three general components of religiosity are depicted by Pi. The depictions are Pi's knowing about God's existence, knowing about religion, feeling grateful of animals' existence, grateful of goods' existence, Pi's doing like serving God through personal prayer, committing three religions, loving the fellow, and loving animals. As adolescence, Pi has knowledge about the great power of God. Pi thinks that it is only a very serious disease that will kill God. What is meant by serious disease is a real serious disease that infects a human being. Pi thinks that God, the Supreme Being who has super power over all things in the world will not die or never dies because of thing like suffering disease like a man can. God is the creator of human being and all other creatures in this world. He disagrees with his teacher's opinion that God died during partition in 1947. He might also die during the war or when he was in orphanage. Pi believes and knows it so he thinks that it is an impossible thing for God to die that way like a human being does. He also thinks that if God's existence in a man's heart is dead, this condition will lead to terrible things. In other words this is a very dangerous condition. Pi states this because he does not want God disappears from every human being's heart. He compares the terrible things that will happen because of that condition with terrible disease. He attempts to say that the effect of both things towards human beings and other creatures in the world is vey dangerous. Someone who suffers a not-dangerous disease still can infect the people around him then imagine if the disease is terrible. This will have greater effect towards them. Then, if someone does not recognize his God anymore, this will make destruction. For example, if human beings are the highest God's creature compared to animals and plants do not have God inside their minds then the God's blessing like mercy towards the other will be lessen and the worst is disappearance of that. If the people do not have mercy anymore, they will damage the environment. Relating this to Pi's life that is closed to animals, Pi knows and believes that by keeping God inside his heart will make the world and its contents peaceful. Pi has a positive point of view of religion. For him religion is light. The light will guide human beings to the right way along their life's way. When Pi met his teacher, Mr. Kumar at his father's zoo, Pi was so happy to see him there. Mr. Kumar said that he often went to the zoo and thought that other people might think that it was his temple although he was indicating to the Pit of goats' and rhinos' cage. He later talked about politic that lead to religious debate between him and inside Pi's heart. Mr. Kumar thinks that the world will be peaceful if the politicians are like the goats and rhinos. But the real condition is reversed. Pi does not know anything about politics although his parents often complained about Mrs. Gandhi. He bluntly said that religion would save them. After Pi mentioned that they will be saved by religion from the political condition that was terrible, Mr. Kumar's response was not very good. He admitted that he did not believe in religion. He thought that religion is darkness. He thought that there were no grounds for believing thing like that. He only thought that religion was a superstitious bosh. He did not believe in God's existence. Hearing this Pi was only thinking that Mr. Kumar was only testing him for his knowledge of religion. He thought that he was like purposely saying that mammals lay eggs. After that Mr. Kumar is an atheist was in his mind. He was then surprised when he was told that God may have died somewhere some when. Although he was surprised of this, Pi did not hate the fact that Mr. Kumar is an atheist but Mr. Kumar's agonistic made Pi upset. Mr. Kumar spoke that God never came when he needed Him. When he was Pi's age, he was racked with polio. The God never came and saved Him but the medicine did. Pi did not respond anything about it although it was a bit much for him. Pi chooses not to argue with Mr. Kumar not because of his anger but more afraid of loosing someone he loved. The depiction of Pi's gratefulness of animals' existence is found when he was in the zoo. Pi's father was the owner of a zoo in Pondichery. He was feeling very happy of growing up in a zoo. Almost every animal in the zoo left an impression to Pi. In some case, Pi did not have to depend on his activity to the mundane thing like alarm clock for example. Pi did not have to have the clock because he could use the voice of animals around him to wake him up, to remind him for breakfast. He used the roar of a pride of lion who usually roar off between five-thirty and six every morning. The loud voice of howler monkeys punctuated his breakfast time. The animals in the zoo also give Pi a happy feeling. Besides from his mother's gaze, he also got a benevolent from bright-eyed otters, burly American bison, and also orang-utans. Pi was living his life as prince who had the fondest memories of living in a zoo because of the animals. The animals brought him advantages. From morning until dark, Pi was always welcomed by them. Every animal in the zoo has different characteristics, habits, and action. There are animals which voices are very disturbing but there are animals which are not. The habits or the actions of the animals whether they are annoying or not, has brought him to think that they are the graceful gifts from God. Seeing their action made Pi feeling as a lucky boy. Pi has always been feeling grateful of what God has given to him. Once when he is in trouble when floating on the Pacific Ocean, he finds goods that will make him survive. Although he is in trouble, he still remembers about the relationship of the goods' colour with one of the religions he has committed. In Hinduism, saffron is the most sacred color for the Hindu. This color represents fire and symbolizes purity. Wearing this color symbolizes the quest for light. If this color is related to what Pi finds in the lifeboat, this means the goods are source of light for Pi. The light is his survival from the fear. The boat makes him safe from the Pacific Ocean beneath him and the tarpaulin separates him with his Bengal tiger. At first, Pi does not think that the goods he has found will become his lifesaver. But, he then thinks that with the lid, he is separated from Richard Parker. This means he is protected from carnivore that is in the same boat with him. He is feeling grateful of that. Then if the tiger is managed to attack Pi from below, he should push the lid and it will warn him and make him fell backwards to the water. And here it is the function of the lifebuoy. The existence of the goods has caused joyful feeling for Pi. He even cannot compare them with all giving occasions that he has experienced before even the occasions bring great pleasure. Although Pi is floating on the Pacific Ocean, he still does prayers. Pi does the religious rituals adapted to the circumstances. He does all three religions rituals he commits. Pi still does the prayers because he has felt that doing prayer will bring him comfort. But, in practice, doing prayer is very hard for him. He thinks that to have faith in God is difficult. He has to have an opening up, trust, and act of love towards God. It is because he is not in a save condition. There are dangerous problems that he faces on the ocean. He sometimes fills with anger, desolation, and weariness. He is angry at the God who puts him in this kind of situation. In that kind of situation, Pi ensures himself that everything around him is God's, even the hat he is wearing, the attire, the cat, the ark, the wide acres, the ear. Pi has a very strange religious practice. Although he is still adolescence, he has already practiced three different religions. They are Hinduism, Christianity, and Islam. At the age of fourteen years old, Pi meets Jesus Christ and becomes a Christian although he was born Hindu. He is admired by the God's Son's sacrifice. He willingly sacrifices Himself for the goodness of humanity. He pays the humanity sins. The reason is because of love. Although Pi is a Hindu, he also commits to Christianity. He does both Hindu and Christian prayers even right after becoming Christian. Pi commits to Islam a year later. Again he is introduced to Islam by a professional worker. He is a Sufi who is a Muslim mystic. His name is Satish Kumar, person with the same name as his biology teacher. Pi is attracted to Islam because of the brotherhood and devotion that are told in Islam. Pi also feels good when he brings his forehead to the ground. He feels a deep religious contact then. After all those introductions to new religions, Pi practices all of them. Pi's love toward the fellow is depicted through his relationship with his biology teacher. Although Pi is born Hindu and is a well-content Hindu, he still respects anyone who does not have the same faith with him including his biology teacher, Mr. Satish Kumar. One day Pi sees Mr. Kumar in the zoo. He is a regular visitor of the zoo. When he is visiting zoo, he always reads labels and descriptive notices of every animal. He feels scientifically refreshed after visiting the zoo. In the zoo Mr. Kumar and Pi have a talk about political things in India. Mr. Kumar imagines if they have politicians like two rhinoceros and a goat, that live together in harmony that they are watching, India would not have faced many problems. Then Pi says that religion will save them. Mr. Kumar's response is out of Pi's mind. He thinks religion is darkness and God does not exist. Pi is surprised about this. Pi only thinks that he is testing him. But it is not. Mr. Kumar is an atheist, someone who does not believe in God's existence. Although Mr. Kumar's point of view about religion and God is not the same as Pi's, he still accepts this. He only thinks that anyone has doubt like Christ who ever doubts God for forsaking Him. Pi still makes Mr. Kumar as the reason he choose zoology as one of his major in university. Because he is the first atheist person that Pi meets, he is able to think that atheists are his brothers and sisters. He considers Mr. Kumar as a person of blood-relationship with him no matter what faith he has. The faith is their faith. They are free for it like Pi himself. Pi's love towards animals has made him to become a vegetarian. When Pi is in trouble finding the source of food on the boat on Pacific Ocean, he is finding many flying fish, Dorado fish, have flown into the lifeboat. He is finding this event as happy event because Richard Parker has had some food supplies to fill its hungry stomach. Pi also takes one of the fish. He covers the fish with blanket in order to not make him hurt. After that, he tries several times to kill the fish but he could not complete the action. Pi cannot make it because he feels pity of the fish. He even feels a bit responsible of the rat's death because he threw it to Richard Parker. To kill the fish, he thinks that he is between the affection feeling towards animals and the need to have meal. In his lifetime, he is a vegetarian. When Pi has been succeeded in killing the fish, the tears come down his cheeks. He cannot feel the life fighting anymore. He feels sad knowing that there is blood on the fish. Although fish is a common animal that human even other animals eat and they rarely think that the fish is a creature that has soul, Pi's aware that there is soul inside the fish. He is very sorry toward the soul living things that he has killed. The fish cannot enjoy its life anymore. Pi thinks the fish and him are the living creation of God. They should not kill each other. Because he loves it, he is feeling guilty. Then, he promise to pray for the fish in his prayer. FACTORS INFLUENCING PI'S RELIGIOSITY The religiosity of a person can be begun since early life of that person. This can appear to the mind of people when they are children. Not all people will experience religiosity since in their early age. Usually the forms of religiosity are based on religion. The moral values and social attitudes of the people will be likely influenced by it. Early introduction of religious things to people are mostly from the people around them but this religiosity can also come from inside the individuals. The factors that influence religiosity of Pi are family's influence, professional workers' influence, needs, interest, and rationality. Pi's religiosity comes from the influence of his parents because they are the closest figure for the children. Although Pi is from Hindu family, he defines his father as person who does not have strong belief about religion. He later explains that all new animals in the zoo owned by his father are blessed by priest. In the zoo there are also two small shrines. They are to Lord Ganesha and to Hanuman. But, the reason behind this is only to please the zoo director. His father thinks the existence of the shrines is good for his business to build a better relationship with the public, not personal reason like personal salvation for him. It is true that Pi is religious because he has been falling in love with Hinduism. But, the children's mental life grows. Pi sees his father as a less or lesser religious than him. Then he might think that committing two new other religions is okay for him. Because of this reason, he begins to think it won't be any problem with my family if I commits to these new religions. Besides of the religious life of his father, Pi also feels that when he was kid, he has never prohibited reading comic and other papers that contain anything about gods of any religion. Pi thinks that his mother was pleased to see him reading any books so long it was not naughty, because she herself is a big reader. Professional workers have a great influence towards Pi's religiosity. Pi was originally a Hindu because he was born in Hindu family. During his childhood, he was familiar with everything about Hinduism. Later on when he enters his adolescence period that is in his fourteen years old, he begins to know about Christianity. Pi is on a holiday trip in Munnar. In Munnar there are three hills. The hill on the right has a Hindu temple, the hill in the middle has a mosque, and the left hill has a Christian church. Pi is a school boy who attends a Christian school but he never goes inside a church. Then, because of curiosity he decides to hide around a corner of the rectory of the church because he is afraid. Inside the church he sees a figure, a priest who is sitting quietly and patiently waiting for anyone who wants to talk to him. On the next day he manages to enter the church and is welcomed by the priest, Father Martin. Pi thinks he is very welcoming. In that church he was told some story about Christianity including God's son who was willing to pay the humanity sins. Pi cannot accept this. He always questions this thing to Father Martin. He always answers it is because of love. Pi does not feel satisfied of the answer. On his last day in Munnar, Pi decides to come to the church again. At first he thinks that the priest is not in but he is. He says to Father Martin that he wants to be a Christian. He says that Pi already is. Before Pi leaves, he finds Father Martin smiling to him. It is the smile of Christ for him. From these, Father Martin's patience and kindness to give explanation to Pi and answers his questions too have made Pi to feel that Christian is not as what he thinks as people with great violence. He has seen the sincerity of Father Martin. He is feeling comforted about what the man is telling. These makes him understands about the religion and finally commits in it. Another professional worker that influences Pi to Pi's religiosity is an imam of a mosque in Mullah Street. At that time, Pi is also in his adolescent period. He is sixteen years old when he knows Islam. Pi actually does not have good impression about Islam. Islam has a reputation worse than Christianity. Islam has fewer gods but greate

Issue 60.3 of the Review for Religious, 2001. ; Explorations Religious Life Heritages Faithful ~Witness MAY JUNE 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 3 Review for Re, ligious,helps people respond and he faithful to God's universal call to holiness by ~naking available t_o them the spiritual legacies tbat flow from the cbarisms of Catholic consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: g~r,v.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2001 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this ~ssue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to t.he Editor, Review for Religious. for religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann F~ppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp James and Joan Felling AdrianGaudin SC Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla sJ Patricia Wittherg SC MAY JUNE 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 3 contents explorations 230 "Women Religious, Women Deacons? Phyllis Zagano explores why a woman, secular or religious, would seek ordination as a deacon and what questions this poses f6r the corporate life of a religious institute. 245 Confidentiality: Are Religious Superiors Always Bound? Vimal Tirimanna CSSR explores whether there are limits to the professional confidentiality to be kept by ministers and religious superiors and the need for appropriate norms and sanctions. 254 The Computer's Edge: Some Social and Ethical Concerns Linda Herndon OSB introduces some of the s~cial and ethical issues in the computer world, raising some questions, and proposing some practical responses, to stimulate further discussion. 262 269 religious life Authenticity and Contact with Youth Robert P. Maloney CM calls for an asceticism of authenticity that engages and challenges young people in their passion for Christ. Obedience: Vow and Virtue in Our Contemporary World Kathy Dunne RC looks at the vow of obedience as it is born of love, forms us as lovers, and bears the fruit of love. Review for Religious 277 286 heritages ¯ Mechthild of Magdeburg's Spiritual Pilgrimage William C. Zehringer traces the complex pilgrimage story of the medieval mystic Mechthild of Magdeburg. The Poverello's Legacy Bonaventure Stefun OFMCap gives many Franciscan exemplars of poverty as lived through the centuries, all united by Francis's key notion of attachment to Jesus. 295 308 faithful witness Here I Am You Called Me? Marie Beha OSC delves into the meaning of presence, considering especially how we might respond more fully to God and to others. Leap Over the Wall: Why Did I Not? Mary Anne Huddleston IHM offers her personal witness to the commitment value of consecrated life. departments 228 Prisms 314 Canonical Counsel: Requirements for Temporary Profession 320 Book Reviews May-June 2001 prisms To opposing tendencies vie within us from the very beginning of life. Human beings are described as always struggling to stay within the comfort life of the womb and yet pushing to find a con-tinuing newness of life outside the womb. We rejoice in the known, the familiar, what has always been, the traditional. We can be enlivened also by the unknown, what is new and untried, the innovative. A healthy passage between these two human tendencies is caught up in the activity called exploration. Our growth as chil-dren came through exploration; we grow as adults only if we continue regularly to experience the exploratory passage, a passage that joins the past to the future. When John Paul II made his appeal for a new evan-gelization, it was an exploratory call. It was not imme-diately evident to all of us Catholics how far this call extended. We are beginning to realize that a new evan-gelization takes in not just ways of proclaiming the gospel that are effective for our time but also ways of celebrating that proclamation. The latest revisioning of the sacramentary and lectionary is a part of this continuing renewal of our efforts in celebrating the Eucharist as the central mystery of our faith. We con-tinue to explore the passage between the liturgical rites as we have known them and a new formulation of these rites that may more effectively help today's people understand their meaning in relation to contemporary patterns of thought and expectation. A liturgical spirituality rightly has pride of place. But so-called "popular" devotions are important too. In the Roman Catholic Latin rite, expression found in liturgical prayer usually remains formal, with feelings restricted and subjective emotions set aside--whatever the vernacular translation. The more personal and emo- Review for Reli#ous tive piety that was characteristic of Catholic devotional life in the 19th and 20th centuries--expressed in popular language and images--necessarily had to recede in importance after Vatican Council II. The explorations central to our faith expression in baptism, Eucharist, and reconciliation focused all of our worship-ing energy. Marian devotions, Sacred Heart devotions, Eucharistic holy hours, and Stations of the Cross suffered a time of eclipse. Granted that the central place of the Eucharistic celebration and the other sacraments has been properly positioned for us Catholics, we are now enabled to express our persistent hunger and need to nourish our Catholic life also in nonliturgical or, perhaps more positively, more personal and popular ways. As an integral part of our actively entering into our new evangelization, we need to explore devotions that do not seem to be relics of the past, but rather are "new" prayerful ways of celebrating our faith that express the yearnings of our hearts today. What form will these explorations take? We cannot say since devotional life is so much shaped by the social and cultural milieu in which we live. Devotions need contemporary imaging, vocal expressions, and musical or quasi-musical rhythms that appeal to today's people. For example, does the May procession and crown-ing of Mary as queen--a memory many Catholics treasure-- emphasize rather the distancing of Mary from our daily experience rather than her closeness? What may have been "devotional" at a particular time may not be a fitting expression and imaging today. Does a 40-hour Eucharistic devotion fit the rhythm of our social milieu or would a 7 p.m.zto-12 midnight or a 24-hour, all-night vigil speak better? We need to explore how these "old" devotions can be truly a part of our new evangelization; our exploration is an effort to stretch personal and group memories into personal and group hopes and expressions. We may look to the renewal of some of our older devotions such as the devotion to the Sacred Heart (identified of old with the month of June) or we may seek to honor and find our own life-inspiration by devotions expressed for one of our newly canon-ized saints who combines charity with a j3rophetic thirst for justice. Regardless, we are responding to the call for a new evangelization. Exploration is necessary for a faith that is alive and well. No, bet-ter said, exploration is necessary for us believers who want to grow in our maturity in Christ. David L. Fleming SJ May-~une 2001 explorations PHYLLIS ZAGANO Women Religious, Women Deacons? In recent years, discussion about Catholic women's ordi-nation has centered on the priesthood, and the diaconate " has been seen primarily as a step toward priesthood. The official opposition to the ordination of women as priests is well and widely known. But the official position on the ordination of women to the diaconate is that it is "under study." Conflict about the impossibility of women becoming pries(s has obscured the possibility of their becoming deacons even though, after the revival of the per.manent diaconate in the West, the concept of permanent women deacons found significant support.~ Today wtrldwide requests by individuals and groups to have'women ordained to serve the people of God strengthen the notion that the church could restore the female diaconate.2 Such possi-bility, if not probability, provides the opportunity for apostolic institutes and individual religious t6 question whether ordination would be appropriate for them cor-porately, or individually, or both. Phyllis Zagano is founding cochair of the Roman Catholic Studies Group of.the American Academy of Religion and author most recently of.Holy Saturday: An ,qrgument for the Restoration of the Female Diaconafe in tbe Catholic Church (Crossroad). She can be reached c/o Crossroad Publishing Company; 481 Eighth Avenue, #1550; New York, N.Y. 10011; and at pzagano@rcn.com. Review for Religious Why would a woman, secular or religious, wish to be ordained? There is significant resistance among women to becoming involved in a system widely viewed as patriarchal, especially in what is arguably a subservient role. Some say there is no need for ordi-nation, since everything a deacon does can be done with special permission by a lay person. Some focus on other issues. Others say the diaconate is not enough. The answers that affirm a woman's request for diaconal ordi-nation are as individual as each person's vocation to live a life of prayer and service. The unfolding of a single lifelong quest for God has many different layers, and vocations often grow in unex-pected directions. The deacon's vocation is to a life as "minister of the word, of the liturgy, and of charity.''3 Numbers of women's institutes find one or another of these calls, perhaps all, in their founding documents. In fact, women religious are always involved in works of charity, as they can be most broadly described, and their service is similar if not identical to that of deacons. Hence, why should women religious not be formally present and repre-sented in the liturgy? It is women religious who most clearly and most publicly enflesh the gospel. Why should they not proclaim it at Mass and explain, it in a homily? Realistically speaking, women religious are increasingly involved in diaconal work and works, and the charism of orders could only strengthen their commitments and their service. The church itself, both informally and formally, has called forth women to expressly diaconal work and works, that is, work and works that could be more fully served by women deacons. As Doris Gottemoeller RSM pointed out a few years ago, women religious are increasingly parochialized~ to the point that hundreds are parish administrators and are also increasingly involved in professional institutional chaplaincy. Further, official Vatican documents repeat-edly call for inclusion of women in official roles in the church.4 As more women are more involved (even t~ull-time) in diaconal ministries, the need to ordain them becomes clearer, in order to better serve the people of God. For example, there are obvious drawbacks when a woman religious working as a pastoral associate or chaplain does not have the ordinary authority to celebrate bap-tisms solemnly, or witness marriages, or preach, or fully lead litur-gical prayer, all of which ordained deacons do when they have standard faculties.5 If women religious are already serving in clerical roles, why not May-June 2001 Zagano ¯ Women Religious, Women Deacons? add diaconal ordination to their religious charisms? Perhaps obvi-ously the answer is that the nature of lay religious life is different from the nature of clerical religigus life. For an apostolic insti-tute to ordain members, or to incorporate new members already ordained, would imply a change in its nature. Since the church in the West might at any time return to its tradition of a permanent female diaconate, these considerations are real. Even if only hypo-thetically for now, women religious might individually and cor-porately consider the possibilities and consequences of ordination. Six questions asked by the ordaining prelate in the liturgy of ordination combine to form the perfect discernment tool with regard to religious life and the diaconate. The considerations given below do not and could not cover the combinations and permu-tations in every individual case. But they can open the door to additional individual or group discernment on this important pos-sibility. Can a woman religious answer yes to these six questions? More importantly, should she? 1. Are you willing to be ordained for the church's ministry by the laying on of hands and the gift of the Holy Spirit? The woman who might be ordained would be ordained to ministry--of the word, the liturgy, and of charity. A woman reli-gious, therefore, would have the nature of her public Commitment permanently changed. The ordination to ministry would not nec-essarily replace her celibate commitment to a life of prayer and service within her apostolic religious institute, but it would change it. Here she is asked to be available not only for the works of char-ity for which deacons are known, but for "the church's mi.nistry"-- the church's pastoral ministry--of baptizing, marrying, preaching, and burying the dead. This question asks if the deacon candidate will accept the pro-fessional obligations of ministry. The church's pastoral ministry already includes many apostolic women religious; they are pas-toral associates, performing almost every work an associate pastor might. In ~iddition, women religious run the parish soup kitchen and family center, oversee catechetics and the RCIA program. The gradual shift during the last century by institutes of apostolic reli-gious from teaching or nursing in their own institutions to other historically usual works of the deacon, often within the diocesan structure, underscores the whole church's calling women to wider ministries. Women, and especially women religious, are indeed doing the work of ordained deacons. But they are not ordained. As Review for Religious I have argued elsewhere, it is not desirable for the church to con-fuse vows with ordination,6 and so I would argue here that those who are already involved in "the church's ministry" might consider the strengthening of their pastoral charisms through ordination. For the sake of discussion, we can assume that the majority of women religious who would seek diaconal ordination would also choose to remain members of their own religious institutes. Their vocational discernment would need to separate the charism of celibacy in consecrated life from the charism of ordained diaconal life, which does not require celibacy, and from the charism of celibate ordained life. While the vocation to celibate life in community is not identical to the vocation to ordained life, the two vocations are not mutually exclusive. That is, consecrated celibacy and ecclesial ministry are not mutually exclusiye, but each requires separate consideration and support. As Sandra Schneiders has recently pointed out, a "coherent theological framework within which prayer, sacramental life, and ministry make sense in themselves and in relation to each other is cru-cial to the relationship with Jesus Christ that alone justifies com-mitment in consecrated, celibacy that is at the heart of religious life.''7 By contrast, professional ministerial commitment is open to all, celibate or married, "~ho find themselves called to identify with the ministry of Christ: The charism of celibacy can be seen as analogous but not identical to the deacon's call to be minister of the word, the liturgy, and of charity. Again, the call to diaconal ministry does not nec-essarily include celibacy. While the charism of consecrated celibacy might be more broadly experienced by the church if the majority of ordained women religious remained in their institutes, as such this charism should not be confused with the separate and distinct call to diaconal orders. The call to the diaconate is specifically and primarily "f6r the church's ministry," not for an apostolic min-istry arising from celibate commitment within a religious .insti- I would argue that those who are already involved in "the church's ministry" might consider the s~rengthening of their pastoral charisms through ordination. May-June 2001 Zagano ¯ Women Religious, Women Deacons? tute, even though the two calls may coexist in one person and in one institute. The operative points in this question are whether and how the woman religious would participate in the church's ministry while remaining a member of her institute. Those are matters of discernment to be taken up by her,.her superior, and--if she is the first of her institute to ask to be ordained--by the chapter of her institute. 2. Are you resolved to discharge the office of deacon with humility and love in order to assist the bishop and the priests and to serve the people of Christ? There is an ancient document in which a bishop sets forth the qualities necessary for women to be ordained deacons. His major concern is that they be able to get along with the priests.9 Church history, then and now, is replete with examples of ten-sions between priests and deacons. Humility is not humiliation, but many contemporary deacons suffer the latter in their relations with priests, who in many cases just do not know what to do with them and are often threatened by their presence. These insecuri-ties will not be cured by adding ordained women to the mix, but they might be overcome through hard work and loving consider-ation on both sides. There is no question that priests need assis-tance in the pastoral care of souls, and many have learned how to effectively and professionally accept the assistance both of women, secular and religious, and of deacons; the new challenge would be to accept the assistance of women deacons. But the diaconate is not the priesthood, and an objection to the church's potential returning of women to the ranks of ordained deacons (without creating women priests) is that the women dea-cons would still be serving in subordinate positions to men. In many cases, of course, this is true. Yet significant numbers of men serve in the same subordinate positions to other men. Also, many deacons serve in leadership positions in rural dioceses and mis-sion territories. The many women serving in similar situations would be able.to expand their ministries if they were ordained. One source of tension between priests and deacons might dis-appear if the majority of women ordained were to remain as mem-bers of their religious institutes. Currendy most permanent deacons are married. Very few of the unmarried deacons are religious, pointing to a clear distinction between the vocations even though they are combined in the lives of some individuals. There are Review for Religious 25,345 deacons in 129 countries around the world, of whom 514, or two percent, are religious,l° In contrast, there are 404,208 priests in the world, of whom 140,687, or thirty-five percent, are reli-gious, l' These statistics seem to indicate that the distinction between celibate secular and religious life among the ordained is clear, but the vocations are not mutually exclusive. Whether thirty-three percent (the percentage of religious among today's deacons and priests) of the women ordained to the diaconate would become or remain members of religious insti-tutes is, of course, unknown. It is not likely that women candidates for the dia-conate would come mostly from women religious. Rather, many older married women and widows might seek to ratify and intensify through diaconal ordina-tion their commitments to their current volunteer or professional service of the people of God as catechists, lectors, Eucharistic ministers,.and chaplains or pastoral associates. Similarly, young Catholic women now in master-of-divin-ity programs in Protestant and Catholic .seminaries might seek diaconal ordination. Current statistics on lay catechists and other church workers suggest that seventy per-cent of women deacons would be married or single seculars and thi'rty percentof women deacons would be members of religious institutes. The challenge to all the women who envision possible ordi-nation to the diaconate is to recognize with h.umility and love that, practically speaking, they would be assisting the priests, but that their reason for being ordained is to serve the people of God. 3. Are you resolved to hold the mystery of the faith with a clear conscience, as the Apostle urges, and to proclaim this faith in word and action as it is taught by the gospel and the church's tradition? A significant number of the women presently engaged in min-isterial studies are in programs at denominational or interde-nominational Protestant seminaries. There are many reasons for this. Such seminaries are generally in cities, often near or even attached to major" universities, and therefore accessible. These seminaries are often well endowed, and they have substantial schol- It is not likely that women candidates for the diaconate would come mostly from women religious. May-June 2001 Zagano ¯ Women Religious, Women Deacons? arship programs available to women. And master-of-divinity pro-grams at American Catholic seminaries, and specifically at dioce-san seminaries, are not generally available to women. VChile many Catholic seminaries have a second-track "institute" that allows those who are not candidates for priesthood to study with the same faculty, the training offered is not identical and formation possibilities are often minimal. The extraordinary success of the programmatic exceptions to these general statements proves the thirst of many for professional training and ministry formation by and for Catholics. But, in fact, many Catholic women have studied and continue to study at Protestant seminaries; they are or soon will be ministering in dia-conal roles throughout the country. Not all are fully convinced of all church teachings, and their Protestant training has not pro-vided support for such acceptance. It remains to be seen whether they could be resolved to hold with a clear conscience "the mys-tery of the faith., and the church's tradition." The controversial issues that secular women students and min-isters presently consider, sometimes outside the boundaries of ordinary church teaching, might not be so prevalent among reli-gious, or at least among women religious who might be ordained to the diaconate. Even so, there are current ways of discussing certain topics, principally homosexuality, abortion, contraception, and priestly ordination for women, that could render women can-didate~ ineligible for diaconal ordination. Further, there are mis-conceptions and misperceptions about certain church dogmas, from Eucharist to original sin, that would similarly end an indi-vidual candidacy on its merits rather than on the question of gen-der. If these variant positions are indelibly held, for whatever reason, then the woman in question might still be able to minis-ter as a lay catechist--as many currently do--without diaconal ordination. In fact, some might considerdiaconal ordination a hindrance to ministry rather than an enhancement. There is a trend toward this way of thinking among some women in the church. The issue is not necess~arily bound up with any of the neuralgic questions listed above; it is, rather, managing to live a ministerial life without entering the hierarchy or, bluntly, the "male" system. The individual woman not in diaconal orders is in no way bound to the bishop and need not fear his pro-nouncements except insofar as she is employed by him or by one of his parishes or agencies. Even so, many parishes and agencies Review for Religious retain employees whose full consent with all church teaching is neither required nor requested, except perhaps officially. Any effort by an individual bishop to formally require such consent is viewed as draconian at best, and so short-staffed bishops in good economic times can tend to let well enough alone, and not enter too deeply into parish and agency employee matters. The woman, secular or religious, who would seek diaconal orders would have to answer some difficult questions in her own heart and mind about Magisterial teaching, not the least of which would be the theological anthropology, history, sacramental the-ology, and ecclesiology that would allow her to be ordained a deacon while refusing her priestly orders. Hence there is every possibility that individual women can-didates for ordination might have problems when asked if they "hold the mystery of the faith with a clear conscience, as the Apostle urges, and [will] proclaim this faith in word and action as it is taught by the gospel and the church's tradition." 4. Are you resolved to maintain and deepen a spirit of prayer appropriate to your way of life and, in keeping with what is required of you, to celebrate faithfully the liturgy of the hours for the church and for the whole world? This is an interesting consideration for apostolic women reli-gious. The celebration of the liturgy of the hours generally required of all clerics includes the office of readings, morning prayer, one daytime prayer, evening prayer, and night prayer. Though this fourth question includes some interesting phrases, "appropriate to your way of life" and "in keeping with what is required of you," one can .assume that up to an hour of each day is expected to be devoted to the liturgy of the hours, in addition to the time given to the liturgy of the Eucharist and any private meditation, scripture study, and spiritual reading. This is a significant commitment of time. Contemplative and monastic orders celebrate the full liturgy either publicly (spending considerably more than an hour) or both privately and publicly, but many apostolic women religious are no longer accustomed to praying even a portion of the liturgy of the hours, even privately. Along with their living more in nontradi-tional settings, formal prayer in choir has diminished. These changes in institutional religious life at first created a growth medium for different types of communal prayer, often developed by individuals 6r by individual communities. Continued changes May-ffune 2001 Zagano ¯ Wonten Religious, Wotnen Deacons? in communal life, however, have often led to the dropping even of these individualized prayer services from daily to perhaps monthly gatherings, usually with members of 'an intentional prayer group rather than with the "same roof' community. Each permutat!on moves apostolic religious farther from the tradition of praying the liturgy of the hours "for the church and for the whole world," both publicly and privately. A woman religious who would accept the obligations of the liturgy of the hours might find herself limited by time and space from participating in the life-giving communal prayer that nour-ished her desire to seek ordination in the first place. It wouid be as difficult to choose one or the other as it would be to choose both. Where the development of differing types of communal prayer for and among women religious has in many cases created opportunities for growth, it has also intensified the male-female divide, where most of the men (as clerics) and most of th~ women (as apostolic religious) have habits of prayer that are distinct from each other. (In North America, as is true worldwide, there are about twice as many apostolic women religious as priests, secular or religious.12) One would think, therefore, that the obligation to pray the liturgy of the hours might present a challenge to women. But, while all clerics are obliged to celebrate the liturgy of the hours, diocesan directors of diaconate programs state that few deacons do. This is the import of the phrases "appropriate to your way of life" and "in keeping with what is required of you." Typical married working deacons are sincerely encouraged to pray at least thd "hinges" of the day: morning and evening prayer, and night prayer too. Many, if not most, cannot pray the office of readings. Some cannot attend daily Mass. Some do not engage daily in extended personal prayer or scripture reading. While this information is anecdotal at best, it seems little would be actually added to the schedule of a woman religious, whose personal and communal practices probably already exceed those of the typical deacon. So this question could clearly be answered in the affirmative by the. woman religious who sought ordination to the diaconate. 5. Are you resolved to shape your way of life always according to the example of Christ, whose bo.dy and blood you will give to the people? The question is deceptively simple for women religious, whose lives are a constant endeavor to conform their whole' beings to Review for Religious Christ. That they have been engaged in such a struggle for their entire adult lives creates in some cases a distance between them and most secular candidates for the permanent diaconate or the priest-hood. While the emphasis in religious formation is on formation, and in seminary training on training, deacon candidates do receive a certain amount of formation. But religious formation-- focusing as it does, or at least has done, on prayer, life in community, and participation in institutional ministries--creates a qualitative dif-ference that is sometimes strikingly obvious. Many personal qualities stressed in the formation of women religious can translate positively to ordained diaconal service, just as in the case of the ordained service of men religious. A specific attitude of prayer, and selfless ded-ication to mission, are sometimes difficult to obtain later in life, especially by married candidates for orders who have the complica-tions of their secular lives to deal with: spouses, children, grandchil-dren, mortgages, careers, and political life. Of course, the differences can be seen both positively and nega-tively. Since the secular laity con-stitute ninety-nine percent of the church, one might argue that, rather than from among women religious, deacons ought be taken from among mature lay people. One might theorize that some of today's criticisms of celibate sec-ular (male) priests would be leveled at celibate secular (female) deacons. Criticisms of religious priests, which could be equally leveled at religious deacons, often revolve around the apparent and sometimes real financial and personal security of priests and religious. Secular lay persons often complain of a sort of "macu-lar degeneration" in the worldview of religious, ~ blindness to cer-tain exigencies of secular life, a chasm of nonunderstanding. While religious, as countercultural witnesses to the gospel, must be inde-pendent of political exigencies, they must recognize and constandy guard against such blindness. The very fact that women religious are personally and financially free to give prophetic witness to unpopular causes runs the risk of overpowering the poor, whom they most wish to serve. Criticism comes easily, and, since no one Many personal qualities stressed in the formation of women religious can translate positively to ordained diaconal service. ~lay-June 2001 Zagano ¯ Women Religious, Women Deacons? knows precisely what it means to be a woman deacon, these shoals and narrows must be viewed as opportunities. The delicate nature of ministry is enclosed in this question: Can the candidate for the diaconate shape a "way of life always according to the example of Christ"? It would be a radical chal-lenge for a woman religious to continue to live her religious pro-fession completely and freely while adding the responsibility of living out the charism of orders. Would she better continue to serve as a lay religious in commitment to the gospel, or would she better combine that commitment with the charism of ordained service? Beyond, would she better incorporate in her religious life and ministry the charism of ordained diaconal service, for which there is little precedent? In fact, the spiritual!ty of the diaconate is not well developed. For the deacon, what does it Mean to shape a way of life according to the example of Christ? What does it mean to shape a way of life according to the example of Christ for the woman who would be a deacon, and who would be considered in rank with other mostly married male deacons? These are questions that will.really only be answered by the first few women deacons. Practically speaking, it may only be women religious who are available to make the rad-ically prophetic choice to be ordained and serve as deacons in what are mostly uncharted waters. 6. Do you promise respect and obedience to me and my successors? Ordained women religious would remain bound to their supe-riors; ordained secular women would become bound to their dioce-san bishop. When asked of secular candidates, this question would bind a woman to her bishop for all matters: assignments, faculties, man-ner of dress, and so forth, and through him to the universal law of the church. The ordination of secular women to the diaconate would create a class of women whose ministry would be specifically at the disposal of the diocesan bishop. However, when a religious is ordained to the diaconate, this last question refers only to the religious superior and is generally rephrased to reflect the obedience of vowed religious. Only the religious superior gives permission to a member to be ordained; only the religious superior decides what work the religious cleric will take up. No bishop may unilaterally assign a religious to a work, and the local ordinary has authority and jurisdiction only Review for Religqous over what is done in his name, for example, the celebration of liturgies and sacraments (baptisms, marriages, and so forth) and actual work within the diocesan structure. Practically speaking, there may be no advantage to orders for the woman religious outside the diocesan ~tructure, because any-thing she might do that requires clerical status (with the possible exception of preaching homilies at Eucharistic liturgies) would be done in the name of the bishop and with his permission. So the determination here would be whether her religious superior would find ordination necessary for the individual religious's assigned work. That said, there are women reli-gious in the diocesan structure, and the needs of the people of God whom they serve as pastoral associates, tri-bunal judges, chancellors, and chap-lains would be better addressed by a more permanent.authorization, rather than by temporary or ad hoc lay juriso diction.13 The deeper question regarding the ordination of wtmen religious centers on authority and jurisdiction within the religious institute. Institutes of consecrated life are either diocesan or pontifical. Neither is exempt from obedience to ordinaries in matters pertaining to their episcopal authority, but superiors and chapters of institutes retain their power over their members, even if some or all of their members are clerics (canon 596). Canon Law provides for only two types of religious institutes: clerical and lay (canon 588). While, stricdy speaking, clerical insti-tutes must be headed by clerics, men's institutes that include lay brothers have obtained rescripts, or special permissions, to include brothers in their governments. These rescripts indicated that a clerical member of the institute be designated to carry out acts of jurisdiction requiring orders, and it is not clear the need would arise if the only clerical members were deacons. Since the Second Vatican Council, lay institutes have been able to allow members to be ordained without changing the nature of the institutes from lay to clerical.'4 After the 1994 Synod on Consecrated Life, Pope John Paul II established a special com-mission to study jurisdiction questions within mixed (clerical-and- The deeper question regarding the ordination of women religious centers on authority and jurisdiction within the religious institute. Zagano ¯ Women Religious, Women Deacons? lay) institutes, but the provision for lay institutes to remain lay while allowing some of their members to be ordained already exists. So there is no need to assume that the woman religious deacon would automatically cause her institute to give up its essen-tially lay status by allowing her ordination.'s The considerations implied by this final question about respect for and obedience to the ordaining prelate include whether insti-tutes might admit women who were previously ordained. Canon law provides for these exigencies in the case of men previously ordained who wish to enter religious orders, and there is no reason to think, theoretically at least, that ordained secular women could not become members of apostolic institutes of women religious. In discerning her vocation to orders, however, a woman religious would have to discern whether she would choose ordi-nation over membership, should her institute in chapter decline to include ordained members or should her superior decline to give her permission to be ordained. This presents a radical challenge of both vocation and obedience, and underscores the authority of superiors and chapters. These painful possibilities of growth are facts of life. Some women religious might be required to choose between ordination and their religious institutes, but not necessarily between ordi-nation and religious life. Women religious who chose orders over membership might well form new religious institutes, either wholly clerical or clerical-and-lay, creating a new expression of religious life. The larger consideration for women religious corporately is their insertion in the lay state. While canon law says that by its very nature religious life is neither clerical nor lay, women religious can rightly claim "outsider" status to the hierarchical system, even though their public pronouncements and political involvements are identically restricted. It is both significant and interesting that most women's institutes are more clearly led by the Leadership Conference of Women Religious than by the National Conference of Catholic Bishops. This is not new: monastics have always sought to be independent of local ordinaries. Whether ordained women religious would shift the balance of an institute remains t6 be seen, but their ordination would clearly depend, among other things, upon the needs of their institute and of the church at large. In this matter the specific charism incorporated in lay religious insti-tutes would need to be guarded, and an institute's decision against Review for Religious their members' becoming ordained would probably depend chiefly upon such a safeguard. Women religious, especially in the United States, are poised in a particular moment of freedom to raise their voices in defense of the poor and the marginalized. Though they comprise an aging population--the median age is approximately sixty-nine--women religious might, in prophetic witness to the gospel, decide that as lay religious they have nothing left to lose and clerical status might change that.~6 But, then again, it might not. The church needs the service of women and of all who would seriously take up the challenge of the gospel. One might say, "Would that all God's people were prophets!" Let us acknowledge that some women religious might better serve as clerics, and others not. Either choice is prophetic. Notes ~ The 1971 report of a committee of the Catholic Theological Society of America, "The Office of Deacon as a Lifetime State," recommended ordaining women deacons and was printed in American Ecclesiastical Review (March 1971), Crux (19 March 1971), Worship (April 1971), and Catholic Mind (May 1971). See also Clergy Review 56 (1971): 891-893. Additional contemporary discussion on the topic can be found in Agnes Cunningham SSCM, "Women and the Diaconate," American Ecclesiastical Review 165 (1971): 158-166; Peter HiJnermann, "Note: Conclusions Regarding the Female Diaconate," Theological Studies 36 (1975): 325- 333; A.M. Tortras, "Women Priests or Women Deacons?" Theology Digest 29, no. 3 (Fall 1981), translation of "~Mujeres Presbftero o Mujeres Di~cono? Apuntes para una Ordenaci6n de la Mujer," Estudios Eclesifisticos 55, no. 214 (1980): 355-368. ' I have presented an argument from theological anthropology, sacra-mental theology, history, ecclesiology, and law in Phyllis Zagano, Holy Saturday: An Argument for the Restoration of the Female Diaconate in the Catholic Church (Crossroad/Herder, 2000). 3 Roman Ritual, Ordination of Deacons. 4 Doris Gottemoeller RSM, "The Priesthood: Implications in Consecrated Life for Women," in A Concert of Charisms: Ordained Ministry in Religious Life, ed. Paul K. Hennessy CFC (New York: Paulist Press, 1997), pp. 127-138. s The Archdiocese of Anchorage, Alaska, first received a renewable rescript to allow lay persons to solemnly baptize and to witness mar-riages in 1990. A few women religious who are administrators of rural parishes and two other lay person.s have been so authorized on a case-by-case basis. 6 Zagano, Holy Saturday, pp. 142-145. 7 Sandra M. Schneiders IHM, Finding the Treasure: Locating Catholic May-June 2001 Zagano ¯ Women-Religious, Women Deacons? Religious Life in a New Ecdesial and Cultural Context (New York: Paulist Press, 2000), p. 149. 8 Schneiders rightly points out that the specific charism of celibacy for religious is distinct from the unmarried state of the secular cleric. 9 Apostolic Canons of the Church, canon 21. See Josephine Mayer, Monumenta de viduis diaconissis virginibusque tractantia (Bonn: P. Hanstein, 1938), which includes a significant collection of early documents about women deacons. 10 "The Permanent Diaconate Today," A Research Report by the Bis}~ops' Committee on the Diaconate of the National Conference of Catholic Bishops and by the Center for Applied Research on the Apostolate (June 2000), p. 2. " 2000 Catholic Almanac (Huntington: Our Sunday Visitor, 2000), p. 345, citing Statistical Yearbook of the Church, 1997. 12 There are 819,279 sisters and 404,208 priests. Statistics do not dif-ferentiate between women religious who are "sisters" in apostolic insti-tutes and those who were formerly called "nuns" in cloistered orders. 2000 Catholic Almanac, p. 345. 13 A committee of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious, drawing on the LCWR "Benchmarks" study, is analyzing lay jurisdiction. See Jeanean D. Merkel, ed., Creating a Home: Benchmarks for Church Leadership Roles for Women (Silver Spring, Md.: Leadership Conference of Women Religious, 1996). 14 Canon Law Society of America, The Canonical Implications of Ordaining Women to the Permanent Diaconate (Washington, D.C.: Canon Law Society of America, 1995), pp. 47-48, citing Vatican Council II, Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life (Perfectae caritatis), §10. See also Paul Vl, Sacrum diaconatus ordinem, §32, which provides for religious institutes to have some permanent deacons among their members. ~s Territorial monasteries of women present a special case because their prioresses and abbesses have historically had quasi-episcopal author-ity. For the sake of the argument here, we consider only apostolic insti-tutes of women. t6 As of 30 December 1999, the median age of women religious in the United States was 68.49, up from 67.87 in the previous year, according to a study commissioned by the National Religious Retirement Office, Washington, D.C. Review for Religious VIMAL TIRIMANNA Confidentiality: Are Religious Superiors Always Bound? In the Catholic tradition the superiors or animators of reli- .~. gious congregations and communities are expected to respect confidentiality, especially with regard to delicate personal, infor-mation regarding members, to which they have relatively easy access. In church discipline, howdver, there is no official sanction or limit attached to this conventional norm. On the one hand, if a superior violates such confidentiality and thus damages the good name of the confiding member, there are no clear prescriptions in the church's universal law about how the superior is to be dealt with. On the other hand, it is not officially established how a supe-rior ought to act when a member violates the confidentiality and unjustly damages the good name of the superior. Is it only the superior who.is bound by confidentiality? Or, when a member vio-lates confidentiality and damages:the superior's good name (or anyone else's), is the superior still bound by confidentiality? In this essay I attempt to answer these questions, using tradi-tional Catholic moral principles. First I illustrate the point at stake with a real incident well known among religious in Sri Lanka. Then I briefly analyze this kind of confidentiality in terms of its close associate, the professional secret. I examine why conflden- Vimal Tirimanna CSSR is provincial of his congregations's Sri Lankan province and president of the Conference of Major Superiors of Sri Lanka. His address is: 80, Amfritiya Road; Kandy; Sri Lanka. May-.]une 2001 Tirimanna ¯ Confidentiality tiality is essential in certain professions and ministries. Finally I examine whether such professional secrecy always binds the pro-fessional, the minister, the religious superior. A Real Case In 1998 two temporarily professed seminarians (one for four years, one for three) belonging to a clerical religious congrega-tion wrote to their major superior for his approval of their going out to do secular work for a couple of years and thereby testing their vocations. Since the formators and the superiors were already having some serious doubts about these two seminarians' suit-ability for consecrated life, the major superior, with his council's consent, readily approved the request. In the same year another seminarian (temporarily professed for two years) applied for dis-pensation within a week of renewing his vows, saying he Wanted to help his family financially by getting a.secular job. After much hesitation and dialogue, the major superior together with his coun-cil granted the dispensation. At the beginning of the year 2000, all three of these seminar-ians-- with the help of a former, major superior of the same con-gregation (who had been living outside his community illegitimately ever since he left office) and a disgruntled priest member of the same congregation (who had been illegitimately ~bsent for almost two years)--applied to join a diocese in Australia. All three were accepted for the diocese without any consultation of their major superior. The major superior wrote to the Congregation for Catholic Education in Rome, inquiring whether such circumventing of him by the bishop was licit. The Roman congregation asked the bishop for an explanation, and the bishop brought this to the notice of the three seminarians. In the mean-time the disgruntled priest member, living in the same diocese, got hold of the three seminarians and together they wrote a letter to Rome maligning the good name of the present major superior, their intention being to belittle his credibility in the eyes of the Roman dicastery and thus influence the latter's decision. The major superior's predecessor also wrote a letter, to the bishop in Australia, holding the present major superior responsible for the "ruin" of the congregation in Sri Lanka, especially for the dwindling number of members, and charging that it was the same superior's ruth-lessness that drove the three seminarians away from the congre- Review for Religious gation. He sent copies of the letter to several bishops and major superiors in Sri Lanka, obviously with the intention of eroding fur-ther the credibility of the major superior. Note here that the major superior, together with his council, had already initiated a canon-ical process against the disgruntled priest who was illegitimately absent in Australia and against the ex-major superior, also illegiti-mately absent from his religious community. Could this be their, way of settling scores with the major superior? On his part, the Australian bishop sent a copy of this let-ter of the ex-major superior to the above-mentioned Roman dicastery to justify his action of not consulting the major supe-rior before he accepted the three semi-narians to his diocese. After weighing all the matters at stake, the Congregation for Catholic Education instructed the Australian bishop, to consult the Sri Lankan major superior, saying that, acc.ording to the accepted official prac-tice, he ought to have consulted him before taking those three seminarians into his diocese. Apparently the Roman congrega-tion's stipulation to consult the major superior at least at that late stage was the only way of settling the issue in a spirit of Christian charity. But what about the damage this entire episode caused to the major superior? His good name was unjustly tarnished, and he had no way of defending himself, which was surely a legitimate right of his. As the major superior, he could not simply divulge certain vital information regarding the three seminarians and two priests-- which would have given the other side of the story and defended him. He was bound by confidentiality. Ironically, confidentiality, which normally serves to protect the good name of the persons involved, has in this case served to silence the major superior and prevent him from defending his own good name. In the light of this real-life situation, one may ask: In religious life, should con-fidentiality serve all the members of a congregation except supe-riors? Should superiors be the victims of confidentiality? Are there circumstances when the superiors would not be bound to confi-dentiality? In religious life, should confidentiality serve all the members of a congregation except superiors ? May-ffune 2001 Tirimanna ¯ Confidentiality What Is Confidentiality? The term confi'dentiality normally has to do with keeping secrets. Something becomes confidential when a private matter is imparted in secret with the trust that it will not be revealed to anyone else.l According to the moral philosopher Sissela Bok, confidentiality refers to the I~oundaries surrounding shared secrets and to the process, of guarding these boundaries. While confi-dentiality protects much that is not in fact secret, personal secrets lie at its core.2 In confidentiality, then, what is at stake is the fidelity, keeping faith with those who have confided their secrets on condition that they not be revealed) Understood in this sense, confidentiality covers a wide range of ordinary day-to-day human dealings, in which two parties or more are bound, at least by tacit agreement, not to reveal what has been confided. Some promi-nent examples have to do with what is called professional secrecy. In his classic work written more than fifty years ago, Robert Regan defined it as follows: The term professional secrecy denotes a specific moral duty inherent in certain offices or functions of a confidential nature exercised in society. It connotes in its simplest form a relationship between one person constituted in some sort of need and another person expert and skilled in caring for such needs and with official or quasi-official authorization to do so. Professional secrecy may be defined as a special moral obligation, binding in both commutative and legal justice, incumbent upon the members of certain confidential pro-fessions, of maintaining a discreet silence with reference to the confidential communications received by them in the course of duty.4 The professional secret, then, springs from the contractual nature of the relationship between the professional and the client. Doctors, lawyers, and priests are traditionally expected to main-tain confidentiality; they are expected not to reveal to third parties the confidential information they receive in their professional capacity from their clients. The well-known Hippocratic oath of doctors and the confessional seal of Catholic priests indicate that such confidentiality has had a long history with regard to some professions. It would be a mistake, however, to believe that pro~ fessional secrecy is expected only from those professions. Many others members of society--such as counselors, government min-isters, bankers, and accountants--are expected to honor this obli-gation of secrecy, though they may not be bound by any official Review for Religious oath or law. Religious superiors would fall into this latter category, and so, in the rest of this essay, one may see religious superiors as "professionals" and members of religious congregations as "clients." On the one hand, the duty of confidentiality enables the pro-fessionals to gain more information in order to offer help to their clients, and, on the other hand, it enables the clients to open them-selves more freely to the professionals in order to receive the help they need. Patients often share with their physicians information so private that they would not consider sharing it even with their closest friends and relatives. Such information is obviously essen-tial for correct diagnosis and appropriate therapy. Confidentiality, professional secrecy, enables patients to reveal such information to physicians. Thus, professional secrecy, while strengthening the professionals' claim to their professional status, is first and fore-most for their clients' benefit.5 Take, for example, a battered wife who has shot her husband in self-defense.6 She might deny that she has shot him at all because, not knowing that killing in self-defense is lawful, she falsely believes herself guilty of murder. In order to give her a fair trial, it is extremely important for her lawyer to get all the relevant information that led to the .shooting so that he can build a case of self-defense in her favor. But, to reveal such information, the client normally needs at least tacit assurance of confidentiality from the lawyer. It is exactly this tacit assurance of confidentiality that professional secrecy normally gives to clients seeking professional assistance. Note here that under normal circumstances, if what has been confided is revealed, the one who confided will again be victimized. The whole purpose of confidentiality is to protect such victims. What we are dealing with in this essay, however, is the peculiar case of confidentiality making a victim of the professional when the one who confided the private information takes undue advantage of the silence that confidentiality demands of the professional. In the relationship we are considering in this essay, namely, that between superiors and members, the "victims" (or clients, mem-bers, receivers of authorized "professional" leadership) become the assailants, using loose talk, letter writing, and other weapons of calumny or slander to attack the professionals. Although reli-gious superiors may have sufficient information at their disposal to defend themselves, they are bound by the obligation of confiden-tiality and thus become victims--as in the real-life illustration we sketched above. May-ffune 2001 L-249-:--- --- 2-5.0A Tirimanna ." Confidentiality May the Confidentiality Assured by the Professional Secrecy Ever Be Violated? From the discussion we have had so far, it should be clear that the obligation to keep professional secrets is mainly justifiable on the grouhds that it assures clients a clear guarantee that the infor-mation confided in professional secrecy would never be revealed and that such a guarantee evokes a sense of trust and credibility in the clients so that they feel free to share information that would help them in seeking professional assistance. Leroy Wakers holds that the main moral justifications for professional confidentiality fall into just two main categories: The major moral justifications for confidentiality fall into two broad categories: consequentialist and nonconsequen-tialist . Consequendalists generally justify the social prac-tice of preserving confidentiality in certain contexts by. arguing that the efficient functioning of the physician-patient or lawyer-client relationship would be impeded without it. Nonconsequentialists (or deontologists) usually justify con-fid~ ndality by relating it either to the duty of promise-keep-ing, if an implied or explicit promise has been made, or to the duty to respect the autonomy of persons, who in this case would otherwise lose control over important information about themselves.7 Having thus very briefly examined the moral justifications of the obligation to keep the professional secrets, we now move on to whether there can ever be circumstances in which such an obli-gation ceases. In other words, are there circumstances that permit or even necessitate the revelation of a professional secret? Should a physician tell an HW-positive patient's spouse or lover about the illness so that he or she can avoid risky sexual behavior? Regan draws attention to a principle, which he attributes to ¯ theologians, that may be useful in questions of this kind: "The professional person is obliged to keep the client's secre~ as long as the client retains the right to his secret.''8 In using this guiding principle, the crucial question one has to raise whenever a doubt arises is: Has the client 'the right to keep this matter secret? If the client retains that right, then the professional person must keep the secret. However, if the client for one reason or another has for-feited his or her right to secrecy, then the professional person is not bound to secrecy "and normally must take advantage of the free-dom and reveal the secr,et.''9 According to Regan, the causes that will permit or necessitate the revelation of another's secret, includ- Review for Religious ing professional secrets, are generally reducible to three categories: the consent of the client, publication of the fact or knowledge of it from another source, and the necessity of preventing harm from befalling either the community or individuals2° In this essay, what interests us is the last category: What kinds of harm to the com-munity or individuals is it necessary to try to prevent? Regan lists four main ones: .the necessity of preventing harm from befalling the community; the necessity of preventing harm from befalling clients themselves; the necessity of preventing harm from befalling an innocent third party; and the neces-sity of preventing harm from befalling oneself (the professional person). Of these four cases, what is rel-evant directly to us in this essay is the fourth case, namely, preventing harm from befalling oneself---in our case, the religious superior himself or herself. Sissela Bok seems to agree with Regan's first thre~ cases listed above. For her, harm to clients themselves, harm to other specific individuals, and harm to unknown persons or groups of persons in society are the three main limits to the obligation of keeping professional secrecy.11 She says: The premises supporting confidentiality are strong, but they cannot support practices of secrecy--whether by individual clients, institutions, or professionals themselves--that under-mine and contradict the very respec.t for persons and for human bonds that confidentiality was meant to protect.12 It is clear that keeping a professional secret is obligatory almost always. This obligation, however, has limits. In other words, while there is a strict obligation to guard the confidentiality of clients, there are circumstances in which professional secrets may be revealed. Surely one such circumstance is the case .where the pro-fessionals (religious superiors) are unjustly victimized by their clients (members of their religious congregations). Within church life there are many areas in which confiden-tiality is called for. However, except in the case of the confessional seal, church discipline does not seem to have indicated the impor- Are there circumstances that permit or even necessitate the revelation of a professional secret ? May-ffune 2001 Tirimanna ¯ Confidentiality tance of confidentiality by enunciating specific norms with clear-cut sanctions. In the case of the pontifical secret, for example, when people are consulted in connection with choosing a bishop, in the case of counselingi and in this essay's case about religious superiors, it is not sufficient merely to declare the Feed for con-fidentiality. Today it has become important to enunciate what such confidentiality means and why it is necessary, what its norms are, and what its sanctions and limits are. Or else, as we saw in this essay, some parties (in our case, the religious superiors) can unjustly become victims of this very much needed confidentiality. That the religious superiors are morally bound to respect confidential-ity with regard the members of their congregations is beyond dis-pute. The question I have highlighted is this: Do religious superiors have to maintain professional confidentiality absolutely, or are there circumstances when they have the moral "duty not to adhere to such confidentiality, particularly when it damages their good name? To me it seems there are occasions when they are not bound and that such occasions need to be recognized officially by the church in the form of clearly stipulated norms with appropri-ate. sanctions and limits attached to them. Such norms would surely enhance the common good of a given religious congregation whereas their continued absence is likely not only to cripple or paralyze religious superiors or animators, but also to negatively affect the work and welfare of the congregation as a whole. Notes ~ See Shaun McCarty ST, "Confidentiality Issues in Spiritual Direction," Review for Religious 56, no. 4 (July-August 1997): 370. 2 Sissela Bok, Secrets: On the Ethics of Concealment and Revelation (New York: Vintage Books, 1989), p. 119. 3 Bok, Secrets, p. 156. 4 Robert E. Regan OSA, Professional Secrecy in the Light of Moral Principles: With an Application to Several Important Professions (Washington, D.C.: Augustinian Press, 1943), p. 47. s See Bok, Secrets, pp. 116, 122. 6 This example is taken from Alan Donagan, "Confidentiality in the Adversary System," in Ethical Issues in Professional Life, ed. Joan C. Callahan (New York: Oxford University Press, 1988), p. 253. 7 Leroy Waiters, '.'Confidentiality," in A New Dictionary of Christian Ethics, ed. James E Childress and John Macquarrie (London: SMC Press), 1986), p. 112. 8 Regan, Professional Secrecy, p. 9~. Review for Religious 9' Regan, Professional Secrecy, pp. 97-98. 10 Regan, Professional Secrecy, p. 101. 1~ See Bok, Secrecy, pp. 124-131. ~2 Bok, Secrecy, p. 135. See also Karl H. Peshke, Christian Ethics: Moral Theology in the Light of Vatican H, rev. ed., Vol. 2 (Bangalore: Theological Publications in India, 1992), pp. 379-380. Acceptance I know you well, my sins. Like an outworn glove creased and molded to my hand I know you. Fiber-woven we have grown together through the years, and I have come to know your intertwining even in the warp and woof of each shuttled day until you and I are indefinable. I know you wall, my friends, ¯ though not always was it so; and even now I do not wish too much accommodation. But life together holds some gratitude (albeit given grudgingly). Without you being who you are I would not be who I am. Marie LeClerc Laux SSND May-.~une 2001 LINDA HERNDON The Computer's Edge: Some Social and Ethical Concerns ComunmitpiUest etorsd ahya.v Ce obmecpoumteer sa amrea iunssetady t oin w mriotes tl erettleigrsio, utos kceoemp-track of community finances, to hold databases of information about community members and benefactors, to order library mate-rials, and to do some community business. The World Wide Web and email correspondence provide many helpful connections. Many religious have been involved in discussions about which type of computers to buy, what word-processing software to use, whether community members should all have the same type of computer and software, and other similar issues. Beyond these computer applications and issues, there are other computer matters that matter too, and our religious communities may be less alert to them. I suggest that, to begin with, we should be' talking seriously about some social and ethical issues in the computer world, such as equity of access, gender issues, privacy concerns, and the ways computer use can affect our relationships with others. On these issues I will make some remarks, raise some questions, and propose some possible practical responses, in the hope that religious communities will start similar discussions on these and other questions and find answers pertinent to their own situation. Although computers become less expensive with each passing year, they are not cheap. At present, in the first world, computers Linda Herndon OSB, of Mount St. Scholastica in Atchison, Kansas, writes from 409 N. Eau Claire Avenue, #I 10; Madison, Wisconsin 53705. Review for Religious are not necessities in the same way that telephones and cars are, but those of us who use computers regularly would find our work and our communication more difficult without them. Having com- ' puters available in our communities sets us apart from the poor. A recent study by the Fleet Boston Financial Foundation reports that in five northeastern cities fewer than half of the respondents with incomes under $40,000 a year have computers in their homes, and only 32 percent are connected to the Internet.t In 1999 a front-page article in USA Today said, "The Internet revolution is largely bypassing the poor, minorities, and those who live in rural communities and inner cities.''2 The article went on to say that Internet access was becoming both an economic and a civil-rights issue. More and more studies and articles report this. As regards the elderly, the article .said that only "15 percent of peo-ple 55 and over are on line." Although this number has surely increased by now, there is still reason for concern about older people's lack of computer knowledge and access, for with time more and more information is available only on line and not in traditional print formats. Lack of equal access to computers and the Internet, often referred to as the "Digital Divide," poses difficult questions with no simple answers, Are we in religious communities even aware that this situation exists and is a problem? How can we justify set-ting ourselves apart from significant portions of society by our possession and use of computer technology? Do we allow our employees Use of community computers? If we do, do we provide the training they need to use this often intimidating technology? Do we provide adequate computing facilities, including Internet access, for the schools and institutions that we sponsor? There are things we can do to alleviate this access problem. We can donate our older, but usable, comp~lters to community-action organizations that concern themselves with people who do not ordinarily have access to this technology. We can encourage businesses to do likewise. The Washington Post explored such possibilities in a 21 December 2000 article, "Who wants your old computer?" 3 Another way our rel!gious communities can assist organiza-tions that are working to overcome this problem of computer inac-cessibility is by sharing with them our skills in grant writing. We can become more informed about the inequity of access to both computers and the Internet, and we can stir others to address this May-June 2001 Herndon ¯ The Computer'sEdge major social and educational concern. Each .community needs to look at its charism, community resources, and ministries to decide how to address the "Digital Divide." Along with such physical access to computers and the Internet, is our community's Website accessible to all?4 Although court cases have determined that Websites do not need to meet the guide-lines set forth in the Americans with Disabilities Act,s it seems that, in ~he interest of hospitality, we will want our community Websit~ to be accessible to all who try to visit.6 Is our.Website accessible to the blind or to those who are limited to a text-only browser? Websites with the latest "bells and whistles," such as Javascript, multiple frames, sound, and even animation, may make a site inaccessible to those who are running older browsers, are visually impaired, or are accessing the site over a slow modem. As communities of women and men religious, we need to explore the type of image we wish to portray to those who visit us in cyberspace. These decisions will need to be conveyed to those who design and maintain our community Websites. Such deci-sions, if they include not having the latest innovations, may not be understood by our Website creator and may provide occasion for ongoing dialogue with and education of the Web-page designer, community decision makers, and the community as a whole. A study conducted by the American Association of University Women released in October 1998 showed that "technology is now the new 'boys' club' in our nation's public schools.''7 Their 2000 report, "Tech-Savvy: Educating Girls in the New Computer Age," found similar results.8 The current computer climate does not tend to attract girls. Girls dislike the violence present in many computer games and are looking for "high-skill, not high-kill." The entry position of girls into computi.ng is often the 2001 equiv-alent of typing and word processing. These observations, coupled with the steady decline 6f the number of women going into com-puter science and related areas for the past fifteen years, are cause for great concern. The potential contribution that women have to offer in the area of technology will be lost as long as these trends continue. The "gender gap" in technology use raises several questions for us to consider, especially those of us who are members of com-munities of women religious. Do we encourage members to con-sider technology as an important and significant area of study? Do we encourage the girls and women with whom we have con- Review for Religious tact to study computer science and other areas of technology? Do we offer women any training programs in computer skills? Do we sponsor for girls special classes or workshops in technology? These are a few ways that we can help society benefit from the gifts and skills of women in the area of technology. Is it possible for those of us with extra buildings and superfluous space to use some space for computer learning labs specially designed for girls and women? Do we help and support those who are look-ing for foundation, funds for projects that empower girls and women in the use and study of technology? In an attempt to reverse these trends, Anita Borg recently created the Institute for Women and Technology9 as a way to "increase the impact of women on technologyand to increase the positive impact of technology on the world's women.''1° Another group, Women in Technology International, seeks to empower women through technology.~1 If even a small fraction of our religious commu-nities would help support these or similar ini-tiatives where we are--elementary schools, secondary schools, universities, wherever--what a difference we could make for young girls and women. We can encourage and lobby manufacturers of computer games .to explore other, less-violent options. What a great gift this would be to today's youth and to future generations! Lack of privacy is becoming a major concern in our society. Databases containing social-security numbers, driver's license data, health information, banking and credit information, residence and real-estate information, political-party affiliation, and more are available to all kinds of individuals, agencies, and businesses what-ever their purpose. As making purchases on' the Internet by credit card becomes common practice, the need for secure channels grows. Not all transmission of sensitive and personal information is secure; and this poses significant danger to privacy. And there is the question of the privacy of email. Email is not protected by the laws that protect the privacy of mail delivered by the United States Postal Service. Some companies and busi-nesses regularly, and legally, screen the email of their employees. Email is not secure and can be viewed at any of the computers through which it passes' on the way to its destination. At every We can encourage and lobby manufacturers of computer games to explore other, less-violent options. Herndon ¯ The Computer's Edge. "stop" along its path, a copy of the email is.downloaded before it is sent on its way. Since backuPs of these intermediate computers are made regularly, copies of our email are stored for some days, weeks, or even months. Most people are not even aware that copies of their email exist at various unknovcn computer locations. Unauthorized access by others to an individual's email is not likely to occur, but the possibilities do exist. There are many complex questions in the area of privacy. Are we aware of the problem of the lack of privacy that massive databases and the Internet present? Are we aware of what we can do to increase our own and others' personal privacy? Are we advo-cates for email privacy, .especially in the workplace? Do we educate ourselves and our community members about privacy and security concerns in the use of the Internet? Often new users of the Internet, especially older people, are not aware of the need for precaution. We can encourage our com-munity members not to give out unnecessary information about themselves, whether on the Internet, on questionnaires, or over the telephone. The more we can keep the various pieces of informa-tion about ourselves (such as name, address, phone number, social-security number) private, the harder it is for those using multiple databases to put together ~11 the pieces for a "picture" of us. Social-security numbers are probably the single best source of information about people.2 For convenience, many agencies and institutions use s0cial-security numbers for identification num-bers. Unless required by law (as in some financial matters), no one can require that your social-security number be used for your identification number. In Kansas, where I reside, people getting a driver's license may be asked for their social-security number for use on the driver's license, but they can request another number and it will be given. I suggest that, as women and men religious, we speak out against using social-security numbers for identifica-tion. Often people's phone number, date of birth, and so forth are routinely requested on warranty applications and the like. This information is usually not necessary and need not be given out to "strangers" for a database somewhere. After educating ourselves and our community members about these privacy matters, we will be better able to educate others as well. Does our use of the computer and the Internet affect the way we relate to others within and outside our religious community? A recent study found that "the nation's obsession with the Internet Review for Religious is causing many Americans to spend less time with friends and family" and that, the more time people spend on the Internet, the less time they will spend with real human beings.13 If members of religious communities are typical of the people studied, what ai-e the implications of flaese findings for us? There is no doubt that the Internet and email can be used to keep the membership informed and in touch with leadership and its decisions and also with others in the community. But do Internet browsing~ chat rooms, and email take members away from community time and from relating with others with whom they live? Is it safer to relate to another community member at a distance, even someone we have never met face to face, than to relate to our sisters or brothers close by? A related concern is addiction to computers. Compulsive behavior can be exhibited in game-playing, chat rooms, and surfing the Web. Do these things take religious away from their min-istry and their relating with others in normal ways? If so, there is a problem that needs to be dealt with. Seeking pornographic sites would, of course, be a problem in itself. There may be no way to legislate computer use, but religious communities can take some steps to prevent or alleviate various problems. If communal living is a priority, perhaps members should not ha~e "their own" computers. Of course, computers are pro-vided in offices, and also for ministries as needed or desirable, but these probably should not be in private rooms. Communities can have a "general access" computer or computers. Simply having them out in the open could help towards moderate use and a gen-eral sense of community. No doubt computers are here to stay. I have suggested look-ing at a number of social and ethical issues concerning computer use that'go beyond what computers to buy and which software programs are best. I believe that we women and men religious have something significant to offer in the area of computing tech-nology. It seems natural for us to become a voice regarding the social and ethical issues that computers and the Internet raise24 It will take time, much discussion, and a serious search to find answers for ourselves and our religious communities. If we com-mit ourselves to go beyond the obvious, we can bring about a Compulsive behavior can be exhibited in game-playing, chat rooms, and surfing the Web. May-June 2001 Herndon * Tbe Computer's Edge more humane and heal.thy world of computing for ourselves, our religious communities, and the wider world that our lives touch. Since these issues are multifaceted and I have just begun to scratch the surface of them, I have created a Website with links to online resources at: http://www.mountosb.org/social-issues.html. This Website contains links to issues that I have not addressed in this article. Among them are those related to health concerns (including repetitive-stress syndrome) and to environmental con-cerns (called "green computing"). These resources provide fur-ther educational information and can help you and your community develop your own way of handling various issues. This Web page will be updated with new information and links as they become known. I invite you to contribute to making this page a useful resource for all communities of women and men religious as they continue to face or raise issues of social and ethical concern in and around the world of computers. Notes ~ The report is summarized in "News, Resources, and Trends: An Online Newsletter from Syllabus Press," a listserv email of 17 January 2001. 2 D. Lieberman, "Internet gap widening. Study: Revolution bypass-ing poor, minorities," USA Today (9-I 1 July 1999), p. 1. 3 Available at: http://washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A37762 -2000Dec21 .html 4 "Towards Equal Web Access for All," by Jim Isaak (14 January 2001): http://www.computer.org/itpro/Nov_Dec.htm s "Does the ADA Apply to the Web?" by Michael Mason (25 September 2000): http://www.wtonline.com/vol 15_nol 3/federal/1815 - 1 .html 6 For complete guidelines see the Website for the Web Accessibility Initiative: http://www.w3.org/WAI 7j. Kornblum (14 October 1998), "Study: Tech gender gap widening," CNET News.Corn, available at: http://www.news.com/News/Item/0,4,27550,O0 .html?st.ne.ni.lh 8 "Why Girls Don't Compute," by Kendra Mayfield, Wired News (29 December 2000): http://www.wirEd.com/news/culture/0,1284, 35654,00.html 9 For more information see the Women in Technology home page at: http://www.iwt.org ~0 A. Borg (March 1999). "Expanding the Pipeline: Models for Innovation Bring Women to the Table." Computing Research News, p. 2. ~ The home page for Women in Technology International is: http://www.witi.com/index-c.shtml Review for Religious ¯ ,2 This site; "Some Freqtiently Asked Questions on SSNs," maintained by Computer Scientists for Social Responsibility, is an excellent source of more information: http://www.cpsr.org/cpsr/privacy/ssn/ssn.faq.html ,3 "Study indicates Internet use changes social patterns," by John Markoff (16 February 2000): http://wwwlkcstar.com/item/pages/home.pat,local /37743 d 15.216,.html 14 One order's attempt to deal with these questions is the report of the Benedictine Internet Commission, a group of Benedictine women and men from around the United States. Their final report, issued on 15 January 1998, is available at: http://www.osb.org/bic/report.html Only to This Don't try to look as though you had no problems. Who doesn't ? Don't try to act as though you had it all together. Who does ? Don't think that you cannot be defeated. You can be crushed. Only to this must you witness. That in your problems God is there. That in falling apart you are held together. That in being crushed you are already being raised up again. As the crushed grape yields fine wine, and the crushed olive yields rich oil, so does your body yield, and does its yield give life. Paul N. Duckro May-June 2001 ROBERT P. MALONEY Authenticity and Contact with Youth religious life I love this little verse from Isaiah:"Each morning he wakes me to hear, to listen like a disciple. The Lord Yahweh has opened my ear" (50:4-5). God is always try-ing to communicate with us. The Scriptures' powerful words and life's dramatic events seek contnually to rouse us from our distractedness, but often, as Isaiah laments, "hearing we do not hear." The whole New Testament, very mindful of Isaiah's words, is a trumpet call to conversion. The good news begins with a herald's cry in the desert: "Change your way of life. Prepare the way of the Lord." And when John the Baptist presents Jesus as the central figure on the New Testament stage, Jesus' message is simple and clear: "This is the time of fulfillment. The reign of God is at hand! Reform your lives and believe in the good news!" (Mk 1:15). Religioiis, first in their baptism and later in their vocational option, commit themselves to the conversion process of which the gospels speak. But this call to be a new creation is continual. It comes at every stage in our development. It says: Change your way of life now. As Karl Rahner once wrote, "none of us can enter the king- Robert P. Maloney CM, superior gene~,al of the Congre-gation of the Mission, writes again from Via dei Capasso, 30; 00164 Roma, Italy. Review for Religious dom of God as we are." To narrow down this broad topic drasti-cally, I describe in this article one way of constant conversion, that proposed by Vincent de Paul. I analyze it briefly in terms derived from Be/nard Lonergan and then draw a few practical conclusions. Hunger for Truth as Constant Conversion Vincent de Paul wrote to his friend Franqois du Coudray on 6 November 1634: "Simplicity is the virtue I love most" (SV I, 284).1 Almost twenty years later he said to the Daughters of Charity, "I call it my gospel" (SV Ix, 606). Just a year before he died, he told the members of the Congregation of the Mission that everyone loves those who are authentic, whose words match what is in their hearts and whose actions match their words (SV XII, 171). Vincent proposed this "way" to the many groups he founded. It is clearly the virtue he loved most. Today we give simplicity many names: genuineness, sincerity, transparency, integrity, authenticity, hunger or thirst or passion for the truth. I suggest that simplicity is a path of continual con-version. This conversion manifests itself in: ¯ listening for the truth, searching for it humbly as a wayfarer rather than thinking to possess it as an owner; ° speaking the truth (a difficult disci-pline, especially when one's own convenience is at stake or when the truth is embarrassing); ¯ witnessing to the truth, or the personal authenticity whereby one's life matches one's words; ¯ practicing the truth through works of justice and charity; ¯ striving for sin-gle- minded truth, or purity of ihtention; ° living truthfully as a servant of the poor, having modest possessions and sharing what one has; ° expressing the truth clearly, using attractive, transpar-ent language, especially in teaching or preaching. The Asceticism of Authenticity Simplicity or authenticity is impossible without asceticism. The path of simplicity requires a long-sustained exercis~ of atten-tiveness, understanding, reasonableness, and responsibility. Authenticity, in other words, rests on a positive response to what Bernard Lonergan calls "four transcendental precepts": (I) be attentive, (2) seek to understand, (3) be reasonable, (4) be respon-sible. Attentive people observe precisely what is going on. Understanding people search out the meaning of what they see May-June 2001 Malone2/ ¯ Authenticity and Contact with Youth Drifting is the contemporary form of lukewarmness, of being "neither cold nor hot." and hear. Reasonable people formulate possible changes for the better. And responsible people weigh in the balance their short-and long-term advantages and disadvantages, and then choose. On the path that lies between inauthenticity and authentic-ity, there are two great dangers. The first danger to authenticity is bias. All of us have individual biases. They are self-deceptions that we create to protect ourselves or make us feel ¯ more secure. Others often see them in us much more quickly than we do: prejudices, labeling of others as liberals or conservatives, comfortable but unexamined choices, unchangeable patterns of behavior. One of the commonest individual biases I know in com-munity life is intolerance of differing pastoral approaches. Group bias is more subtle. We do not eas-ily identify it, because we share it with those around us. But it is very dangerous. It gives rise to unjust laws, persecutions, wars, abuse of others because of their race, sex, ethnic ori-gin, or religion. In clerical circles there still are strong group prejudices against women. These are especially striking in many European countries, in Africa, and in Asia, but they are found almost everywhere. Common bias is the most difficult of all to discern. It exists not just in individuals and particular groups; just about everyone suf-fers from it. It comes from looking at life in ways that no one reflects about and almost no one perceives as quite unacceptable. For centuries most people, Chris6ans included, regarded slavery as licit. Most of us live and die with common biases, without ever recognizing them. Prophetic voices attempt from time to time to shock us out of them. I am sorry that I cannot point out today's common biases, because, being afflicted with thgm, I am blind to them myself. But I am sure that someday people will shake their heads about us and our blithe assumptions, and ask, "How could they have thought that?" Whht are my biases? The second great danger is drifting. People who have entered the vowed life seldom deliberately choose to be inauthentic. In the contemporary world the great danger is that they might not deliberately choose anything at all. Drifting is the contemporary Review for Religious form of lukewarmness, of being "neither cold nor hot" (Rv 3:15). Drifters find themselves .incapable of moving resolutely toward authenticity. They skip across surfaces, never listening attentively, not searching out life's meaning, unalert for the right path or unwilling to choose it firmly. Do I drift? Levels of Conversion The quest for authenticity and the overcoming of our biases involves conversion on three levels. 1. Intellectual conversion. Staying aliveintellectually is crucial. I am not referring here to abstract, theoretical, high-flying intel-lectual voyages. No, I mean that we nourish our minds; that we read and reflect critically; that, when we ponder the word of God, we apply the four transcendental principles. Be attentive: hear what it is saying. Search out its meaning: understand it in the light of good commentators. Be reasonable: formulate what it may be asking of us. Be responsible: decide and act on the word. The focus of intellectual conversion is the true. 2. Moral conversion. The key to moral conversion is a change in the criterion for our choices, from personal satisfaction to val-ues. It is crucial in life that we decide what our key values are-- something drifters never do--and that we make them the basis of our judgments. The focus of moral conversion is the good. 3. Religious conversion. In religious conversion we are grasped by an ultimate concern. We surrender ourselves to God. Genuine religious conversion is pure grace. It is,not that we grasp God; God grasps us. The focus of i-eligious conversion is the holy. In each of these stages, we make choices and tfltimately our choices make us. We become what we choose. When we choose the true, we become true. When we choose the good, we become good. When we choose to allow the holy to possess us, we become holy. Am I in the process of being intellectually, morally, and reli-giously converted? Toward Being a New Creation Sixty-four percent of the world's population is under twenty-five years of age. These young people are the hope of the future. They are the future. Authenticity is immensely attractive to them. 2Ylay-June 2001 ¯ " Maloney ¯ Authenticity and Contact with Youth They yearn for the truth, hungering for it and rejecting what they consider its bogus forms. Let me suggest some specific ways in Which religious as indi-viduals and as communities can become more authentic. I am convinced that these will be of immense help in our efforts to reach out to the young. These are my dreams for all of us: ¯ My dream: that we become families that pray mightily and beautifully. I start with an aspe.ct of religious conversion. Do people say of our communities, "They really know how to pray"? People surely know many religious communities for their works. When posing this question to the Vincentian family, I put it this way: "The name Vincent de Paul is synonymous with works of practical charity. But do people also see us as a group that is deeply committed to prayer? Do the young people who come among us feel attracted by experiencing how we pray? Vincent himself was an extraordinary pray-er. His contemporaries readily recognized him as a contem-plative in action. He placed great emphasis on mentai prayer, on attuning ourselves to the rhythm of the church's liturgical life, and on celebrating it beautifully." My hope is that religious can support one another in medi-tating daily and fruitfully and that their common liturgical prayer will be "something beautiful for God" and attractive to the young. Do young people feel at home praying with us? Does our prayer ring true to them? ¯ My dream: that we create formation programs for the young. I hope that we can be masters and guides in the spiritual jour-ney. It is most important that we ourselves be rooted authenti-cally and experientially in the mystery of God's love if we wish to help young people share deeply in that same mystery. The mis-sion of the church is, after all, to announce this mystery joyfully. Formation is crucial for helping young people know and feel the good news that God is alive, that he lives within us, that he wbrks among us, and that he has a special love for the poor. Good formation demands hard work, creativity, the preparation of attrac-tive materials, and the dissemination of these materials far and wide to thousands and millions of young people who hunger for the truth. In the schools, parishes, and social centers where many reli-gious serve, have we created effective formation programs for Re~iew for Religqous young people? Have we developed a pedagogy of the experience of God? Can we communicate to the young our passion for truth and accompany them in their longing to be true? ¯ My dream: that we form youth groups and offer young people the opportunity to join in the service of the poor. ¯ Is there any sector of society that Pope John Paul II has focused on more clearly than youth? Today everyone talks about the new millennium. Young people are the third millennium. It belongs to them. If the Church is to be fully alive in this millennium, it will be because it is energized by young people who believe deeply. The young are the future evangelizers of the world and servants of the poor. Most religious active today will scarcely cross the threshold of the third millennium. If statistics hold true, I will not survive its sec-ond decade. But today's young people will be alive and full of energy long after that. And so I suggest that there is no apostolic goal more important for the church today than to reach. out to young people and offer them a strong Christian formation. We have a wonderful gift to offer them. We must bring it to them joyfully and generously. The presence of two million young peo-ple at World Youth Day in Rome last August was striking. Are we actively engaged in form-ing youth groups? Is the truth of our religious charism so important to us that we are eager to share it with them? ¯ My dream: that we offer the young the opportunity to serve in other countries. We live in the global community. Today events everywhere in the world affect us quickly. If the yen is weak, the New York stock market dives. If there is violent trouble in Central America, the number of undocumented people in Los Angeles increases. I urge religious to help young people to see the .plight of the poor throughout the world. Almost four centuries ago, when it was alto-gether common for young and old to die within five miles of their birthplace, Vincent de Paul established lay groups and two inter-national communities of priests, brothers, and sisters that spread quickly from France to Poland, Italy, Alge.ria, Madagascar, Ireland, Scotland, the Hebrides, and the Orkneys. There is no apostolic goal more important for the church today than to reach out to young people and offer them a strong Christian formation. May-June 2001 Maloney * Authenticity and Contact with Youth Do we offer young people the opportunity for commitments of two, three, four, five years in foreign missions? Do we encour-age them to be true to their inner desires in palpable ways, to be free to extend themselves, to take risks, to make temporary com-mitments and even permanent ones? Does the truth of our mis-sionary vocation so burn in our hearts that it carries over to others, brightening, w.arming, building a fire in them as well? In the mid 19th century, Henry David Thoreau went off into the woods and lived fo~: two yea~s more or less as a hermit a~ Walden Pond. It was a time of conversion for him, an intense period in which he sought meaning in his life. One day last sum-mer I visited Walden Pond, walked around its perimeter, and took a swim. In the evening I picked up Thoreau's famous book and read the words that he wrote when he returned to society after two years of searching: I learned this, at least, by my experiment: that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a suc-cess unexpected in common hours. He will put some things behind, will pass aia invisible boundary; . . . and he will live with the liberty of a higher order of beings. In proportion as he simplifies his life, the laws of the universe will appear less complex, and solitude will not be solitude, nor poverty poverty, nor weakness weakness. If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them. How can we help young people dream dreams of the king-dom of God and build the foundations that will make those dreams come true? How can we communicate to greater numbers Of them a passion for the truth, a passion for the person of Jesus, a pas-sion for justice, a passion for the poor? Passion in its root sense includes suffering--can we help young people to be willing even to suffer for the truth they believe in? Note 1 SV refers to the fourteen-volume French edition of St. Vincent de Paul's works, edited by Pierre Coste (Paris: Gabalda, 1920-1925). Review for Religious KATHY DUNNE Obedience: Vow and Virtue in Our Contemporary World Ibt was a breezy, hot summer day in 1958. I was sitting on the ack steps of our suburban Long Island home with my friend Linda. We were both about six or seven years old. My morn had just made cupcakes, but told us we could not have any until after ¯ dinner that evening. Linda and I were discussing the merits of "snitching" a cupcake when my mom was not looking. I held that it would be stealing because they did not belong to us. Since this would be a mortal sin in our° theological framework, I did not think this was such a good idea. I did not want to die that night and go to hell! Linda, more practical-minded, said she thought it would only be a sin of disobedience since my mom said we could not have one until later. That would only be a venial sin! Since my mom stayed in the kitchen, we did not have a chance to take the cupcake. As I reflect on that event, I see that our notion of obedience was rudimentary. We lacked maturity, of. course, and our moral framework was that of young children. After many years of growth in discipleship and in my religious vocation, I found myself with a deeper understanding of the vow of obedience. Obedience means more than acquiescing to external authority; it is a more mature, discerning stance that includes inner authority within the context of community, the church, and the world. Kathy Dunne RC is a spiritual director and works with her commu-nity's affiliates. She wrote "The Still Point" for our issue of January- February 1999. Her address is Cenacle Retreat House; P.O. Box 8115; Metairie, Louisiafia 70011. May-June 2001 Dunne ¯ Obedience: Vow and Virtue This article looks at obedience as an evangelical counsel, lived as vow andvirtue. It approaches obedience from three perspec-tives: the scriptural, especially as seen in Jesus' relationship with the One he called Abba; that of religious life today; and that of con-temporary spirituality, that is, living the Spirit of the Gospels in one's life. Obedience, which comes from the Latin audire, means to lis-ten or to hear. In The New Catholic Dictionary of Spirituality, obe-dience is defined as "receiv!ng and responding appropriately to a message--or Word--from God.''l Jesus Christ, in his fidelity to his Abba (his Father), is the model par excellence of this obedience. Jesus lived in a deep relationship with his Father, modeling for us what intimacy means. Jesus' life of deep prayer, listening, and response to his Abba lies at the heart of obedience. The Scriptures tell us that by his obedience Christ was able to "reconcile all things to himself." In a world fractured by sin and division, Jesus shows us how to be at one with God, with each other, and with the whole cosmos. We are called to obedience in the deepest recesses of our being. We are invited back to primal unity and original innocence. By reconciling all things and all people in Christ Jesus, God invites us back to what life was like before original sin. This original unity models love, inclusivity, respect, reverence, mutuality, and care of the ea~'th and all living things. It is nonabusive and "does not rejoice in the wrong but rejoices in the truth" (1 Co 13:6); there "is ntither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free person, male nor female, for all are one in Christ Jesus" (Ga 3:28). Original Sin Original sin, the sin of fundamental disobedience, echoes Lucifer's "I will not serve." It prevents us from accepting and liv-ing the truth of who we are given to be. It blinds us from seeing with the eyes of Christ. Unable to see clearly, we live in a fog or mist of confusion, contradiction, and rationalization. We are often unaware of the needs of those around us. We justify our thoughts, attitudes, and behavior in the name of expediency. We participate, often without realizing it, in the escalating violence and destruc-tion that affect all persons and all creation. We do this by our presence and by our silence. This happens in personal and in struc-tural acts of sin. By our acts of commission and omission, we are Review for Religious involved both in petty acts of selfishness and in the much larger realms of evil, including prejudice, racism, and sexism. We are called, as Christians and particularly as religious, to stand against this fundamental disobedience. We are called to be in harmony and in relationship with all of creation, with one another, and with Christ in God. Obedience is not easy, nor is it an escape from discerning what God asks of us each day. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer said, "There is no cheap grace." Neither is there cheap obedience. Obedience does not give license to opt out of personal or communal responsibility. Rather, obedience is being in fundamental relationship with Jesus Christ as he was with his Father. For many of us that relationship is also mediated through the church and the profession of religious vows. But, primarily and before any type of mediated relationship, we are called to be disciples. Discipleship is the call to be learners, to stand before God with, in, and through Jesus Christ as persons who desire to do God's will and beg for the grace of actually doing it in all the circumstances of life. Obedience is being in fundamental relationship with Jesus Christ as he was with his Father. Seeking the Will of God There are various ways of seeing the will of God. Some see it to be preset or preplanned, a blueprint thatlone just has to dis-cover in order to be obedient. Others consider it as unfolding in the events of daily life. Some experience God's will as some com-bination of the two. Perhaps another way to see its essential nature is to look at Jesus and his relationship with the One he called Abba. John's Gospel in particular stresses this relationship: "I always do what pleases him"; "I have come not to do my own will but the will of him who sent me"; "I am in the Father and the Father is in me" (John 6 and 14:10). Jesus' obedience hinges on this relationship with his Abba. It is not a driven or mechanical relationship. It is a matter of love and deep passion that God's dream for our world will come to fruition. This type of union flourished with Adam and Eve, as God walked in the garden with them in the cool of the evening. When Adam May-ffune 2001 Dunne ¯ Obedience: Vow and Virtue and Eve ate of the fruit of the tree of good and evil, their eyes were opened. They lost their primal innocence. The Evil One said they would become like gods. Instead, they lost their innocence and were removed from the gard.en (Gn 3:1-19). Jesus, in the words of the Easter Proclamation, "restores lost innocence." The innocence and candor of little children are often spoken of as a kind of na'ivet~. As we experience more of life, we lose that innocence and na~'vetd. Disillusion and disappointment contribute to this loss. As we grow in the spiritual life, studying and reflecting on experience, we may come to what Paul Ricoeur calls 'the second na~'vetd, a kind of innocence that is far from na~'ve. Jesus grew in "wisdom and age and grace"; he taught us by his living, his dying, and his rising what obedient living and loving are about. He models for us the innocence that can be restored in us by obe-dience, by being in relationship with God, from whom all things come and to whom all things return.2 Christ's obedience was part of his relationship of love with his Abba. Deep love of God includes deep interior freedom. Such freedom is not a license to follow our inclinations and impulses into unregulated attitudes and behaviors. Rather, such interior freedom seeks to discover what God is asking in each situation or event of our life. There is no plan that anticipates exactly what to do in any eventuality, but there are general guidelines. The teach-ing of the church, refined by centuries of gospel living and of seek-ing and finding what works best as circumstances change, provides a major guideline. The Scriptures provide another. Individual con-science, our culture, and the mores of our country and society also provide guidance. But none of these is enough by itself. The way God leads us within and sometimes beyond these guidelines must be discerned. Some people are ~alled to be prophets and to challenge the status quo. Some, called to be prophets of justice, challenge church " and society teachings on the roles of women, of minorities, of the poor and dispossessed of our world. Others are contemplatives and mystics, women and men who remind us that, without deep and sustained prayer born of a desire to respond to a loving.God, all our work is for nothing. All must listen to the "still small voice" (1 K 19:12) within in order to be obedient to the call which God gives each of us for building up the reign of God. Paul tells us that there is one Spirit but many gifts for the building up of the kingdom. Some are called to be teachers, some Review for Religious prophets, some administrators; some to speak in tongues and some to interpret the tongues (1 Co 12:4-10). Paul tells us that now we know in part and see in part, but then we shall see face to face. He tells us that all other gifts will disappear, that prophecies will be no more, but that faith, hope, and love remain and that the greatest of these is love (1 Co 13:8-13). Call to Love This call to love, to a growing union and familiarity with God and the things of God, is central to the vow and virtue of obedi-ence. Obedience does not mean going "against the grain" in a mechanical way. Rather, it is a delicate dance in which our choices--our ways of being, thinking, and doing--are gradually transformed. We are gentled, so to speak, discovering the strength that comes from God and not from self. Disciples move from exte-rior conformity to inner listening, listening for what Jesus, the Beloved, would have us do. The hours of prayer that we spend overflow into our life, and the events of our life also lead us to God. We become familiar with God's heart and desire God's mercy and justice for all people everywhere and always. Our heart expands to embrace all and thus grows in compassion. The vow can become virtue. Our growing interior freedom lets go of all that is not God, desiring only God and that which God desires. As disciples we let go of compulsions and addictions, sometimes with the help of support groups, ther-apy, spiritual direction, and study, but always with prayer. Over many years we let go of habits, even preferences for doing things a certain way. Fundamental desires are transformed. We now desire the truth and integrity of heart that come from the interior action of the Holy Spirit. We become obedient out of a growing desire to mirror God's trinitarian love in our life. How do we get to where God's nature becomes ours, where it is second nature for us to make decisions--and actually to live-- as God dreams for us? First, baptism gives us the basic operating system of the Christian life. Through years of praying and study-ing the Scriptures, we come to know Jesus Christ ever more deeply. The church's teaching in all areas, particularly justice and mercy, guides our learning and our praying. We grow in our willingness to be open to all of that teaching--and not just what is convenient or feels good. May-June 2001 Dunne ¯ Obedience: Vow and Virtue In addition, we learn as religious the Rule and constitutions of our particular institute. We move from the externals of the vow of obedience to an inner disposition. We begin to find our own way within the congregation and the church. Our particular talents and learned skills come to light and eventually to fruition. We ¯ learn to use these gifts generously and, when we can, to encourage others to grow in discipleship. Over time the vow gradually becomes virtue. No one can map this out for another in exact detail. What a guide can do is listen with us for the signs of how God is at work and suggest ways to cooperate more fully with God. As we let go of less-than-produc-tive ways of being and doing, we gradually find that, much as Jesus did, we grow in age, grace, and wisdom. Ingrained habits give way to the desires and habits of God. We come to desire love, the unity of all persons and all things in God. As disciples we find ourselves fulfilling our living and loving desires in the concrete actions of daily life~ We find that we must live the gospel radically if we are to be faithful. All that life asks must be integrated in an incarna-tional way with the demands and challenges of the gospel, or we live in vain. Living Obediently How do disciples live this challenge? We pray and we act. We act and we pray. There is really no other way. We do not live iso-lated on our own island. A survival-of-the-fittest mentality does not rule our life. Rather, we cooperate with each day's graces and meet each day's challenges. A living obedience to the demands made each day and a willingness to embrace all that life asks call us to greater fidelity. Just as Jesus' love and mission were not only for the Jewish people of 1 st-century Palestine,' the call to obedience is not limited to "my family, . my community," and "my country." As Jesus' mission was for all people and for all time, so obedience embraces all and thus becomes universal. We are called to be compa?sionate with all people who suf-fer, who are poor, excluded, and marginalized. This demands a range of vision impossible without profound grace. We are so con-ditioned to "get ours" or do things our own way that it takes the wide-angle lens of the gospel and of the church's social teaching, accompanied by much prayer and meditation on these documents, to move beyond our myopic viewpoint. We are called by obedience Review for Religious to embrace all and to include all, not just in an intellectual way but in our loving, our praying, and our acting. We have to think globally even as we act locally. The way we do this is unique to each of us and must be dis-cerned. But act we must, or our religion is in vain. But our activ-ity must not be a mere "clanging cymbal" (1 Co 13:1). We must be, like John the Baptist, "a voice crying in the wilderness" (Mt 3:3) or, like Paul, one who proclaims the gospel "in season and out of sea-son" (2 Tm 4:2). We will not be popular, and we may indeed be martyred--if not by stoning or crucifixion, at least by rejection and hurtful words. Nonetheless, we are called to be like Jesus Christ, who "was crucified for our sakes" (1 Co 15:3). If Jesus Christ suffered and died for what he believed and proclaimed, so shall we. We are like the one we Wofess to follow. Obedient love demands such life and response from us. We know that death is not the end of the story. Jesus was raised to new life. We too will rise, not only on the last day, but each time we die to ourselves and surrender ourselves to our good God. The Scriptures tell us that God will not be outdone in gen-erosity. A generous and obedient heart leads us deeper into God's own heart and calls us forth to minister and to love as Jesus did. As we continue .to die to ourselves each day, we are raised up. As we grow in the vow and virtue of obedience, we see our wdrld with God's eyes and with God's heart. But, because we are human beings and not God, we act accordingly. We make mis-takes. We learn, however, to forgive others and ourselves because God has first forgiven us. We forgive and are gentle because that is the very nature of love and the heart of obedience. Able to laugh at ourselves, we do not take ourselves too seriously. This is, after all, God's world and God's creation. The Potter asks only for our cooperation, that we let go of control. Like Jesus, we are in rela-tionship with our Abba/Amma, our Father/Mother God. We are in an interdependent relationship with God, sharing mutually the fruit of otir love and our labor:3 God is as dependent on us as we are on God in this relationship. As we grow in the ways of God, we become ever more fully ourselves. We rejoice because we are one with the God we love and with all whom God loves. Through the vow and the virtue, we are obedient in heart and spirit. We rejoice in the truth. We live simply and we live radically because we live with Christ, through him and for him who is before all else that is. We are his, and he May-June 2001 Dunne ¯ Obedience: Vow and Virtu~ is ours. We are in relationship and in love. We are obedient. Notes L Richard M. Fragomeni, "Obedience," The New Catholic Dktionary of Spirituality, ed. Michael Downey (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1993), p. 709. 2 See St: Boflaventure, "Contemplating the Divine Unity through Its Primary Name Which Is Being," in Bonaventure: The Soul's Journey into God, The Tree of Life, The Life of St. Francis, trans. Ewert Cousins, Classics of Western Spirituality (New York: Paulist Press, 1978), pp. 94-101. 3 See David Fleming SJ, Draw Me into Your Friendship: A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading of the Spiritual Exercises (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1996), "Contemplation to Attain the Love of God," §§230-234. Suggested Readings Foley, John B., SJ. "Stepping into the River: Reflections on the Vows." Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 26, no. 4 (September 1994). Langan, John P., sJ, "The Good of Obedience in a Culture of Autonomy," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 32, no. 1 (January 2000). Rolheiser, Ronald, OMI. Holy Longing: The Search for a Christian Spirituality. New York: Doubleday, 1999. Schneiders, Sandra, IHM. New Wineskins: Re-imagining Religious Life Today. Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1986. --. Finding the Treasure: Locating Catholic Religious Life in a New Ecclesial and Cultural Context. Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000. Wittberg, Patricia, SC. "Community and Obedience: Musings on Two Ambiguities." Review for Religious 59, no. 5 (September-October 2000): 526-536. NEW ON OUR WEBSITE Complete text of A Spirituality for ContemPorary Life: The Jesuit Heritage Today edited by David Fleming SJ and containing articles by J.J. Muetler s J, Walter Burghardt S J, David Fleming s J, Monika K. Hellwig, Jon Sobrino S J, Elizabeth Johnson CSJ, and John W. Padberg sJ ° ¯ An ARCHIVES section containing indices, abstracts, and summaries of our iournal articles from January-Februau 1995 to the current issue VISIT US AT: http://www.reviewforreligious.org Review for Religious WILLIAM C." ZEHRINGER Mechthild of Magdeburg's Spiritual Pilgrimage '~md where is this inaccessible light, or how can I approach the inaccessible light? Or who shall lead me and take me into it that I may see you in it?" So wrote St. Anselm in his Proslogion at the end of the 11th cen-tury. A lifelong searcher for that divine light was Mechthild of Magdeburg (ca. 1212-ca. 1282), one of the greatest women mystics of the Middle Ages. The ardu-ous and triumphantly successful spiritual pilgrimage of that remarkable woman is recorded in her enduring book, Das Fliessende Licht der Gottheit (The Flowing Light of the Godhead), the first mystical work to have been composed in the author's native language, and a book which "defies genre conventions.''~ So, it might be added, does her life in religion. Mechthild is unique among the female mystics of her time and place, both for the changes that took place in the form of her vocation throughout a long life and for the distances that she traveled before finding, at the last, her soul's rest. "My body," wrote Mechthild early in her Flowing Light, "is in great torment, my soul is in sublime bliss; for William C. Zehringer, a medievalist and free-lance author, received his doctorate from Temple University. His publi-cations include a college writing textbook; this article is adapted from a chapter of a book in progress. His address is 364 E. Second Street; Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania 17815. May-June 2001 heritages Zehringer * Mecbtbild's Spiritual Pilgrimage she has both gazed upon and embraced her Lover in her arms."2 These words summarize her turbulent life, for she long endured both ill health and afflictions from her adversaries, while also expe-rienci. ng deep consolations within her soul. As Emilie zum Brunn and Georgette Epiney-Burgard say, "The return of the soul to its original being in G6d--that is what motivates her desire."3 The revelations and sublime insights of The Flowing Light, which she worked on until the end of her life, won her, in her later years, a devoted following among the wisest of her contempo-raries. These included Meister Eckhart and the h01y nuns ofthe convent of Helfta.4.What.was the source of her appeal to these far-seeing men and women? Perhaps one may attribute it, and the hardy endurance of her single mystical.work through centuries of studied neglect, to the potent force of her convictions and the power of her expression in her'native language. Mechthild's book is remarkable in the way the clarity of her vision emerges from the diverse forms of expression she employs, from prayer to exhortation. Carol Lee Flinders has said, "The over-all coherence of the work derives not so much from formal qualities as from a consistency in preoccupation of the kind that knits together a collection of lyric poetry.''5 This all-consuming preoc-cupation is best told in her own impassioned words: "Then she soars further to a blissful place," and, "when infinite God brings the unfathomable soul to the heights, she loses sight of the earth in her astonishment and is not aware of ever having been on earth" (41).6 These and other startling paradoxes which the saint finds in her soul as she approaches the Sacred Presence are a proof of her lifelong (and ultimately successful) attempt to spiritualize her deep and abiding suffering. But they are also her wayof explaining the experiences which she took pains to have recorded, for the edifi-cation of her fellow Christians. The movifig story of her spiritual pilgrimage is above all a lesson in the way all searchers for.the Source of light and love must chart their courses. As Pierre Teilhard de Chardin so memorably wrote, "Union ir~creases only through an increase in consciousness, that is to say, in vision. And that, doubtless, is why the history of the living world can be sum-marized as the elaboration of ever more perfect eyes within a cos-mos in which there is always something more to be seen.''7 These words apply well to Mechthild's life. And a stirring picture of the price of such vision may be found in "The Lament of the Loving Soul" (Flowing Light, Book 2, ~hap. 25): "Oh, you infinite glory Review for Religious in the power of your nobility! How painfully I long for you when you want to spare me" (92). If one searched The Flowing Light for momentous earthly events, one would bE disappointed, but, read as a narrative of Mechthild's interior journey, the book describes vividly her cease-less hunger for heaven's heights,s It was often the depths of the human spirit that this sen-sitive soul traversed. Mechthild knew darkness and periods of dryness. Albert Camus, that pellu-cid and unresting agnostic searcher, has declared: ~"There is no sun without shadow, and it is essential to know the night.''9 But passages such as the one quoted above also bear witness to another cause of Mechthild's suf-fering: the unjust criticism that was hurled at her by clerical authori.ty when she denounced the vices that flourished in the church of her time. As Michael Novak wisely observed, "the experiences whence language about God springs--freedom, honesty, community, and courage--abut on pol-itics. They will not be contained.''1° In Mechthild's life they were not contained, any more than they were in the lives of Hildegard of Bingen, Birgitta of Sweden, or Catherine of Siena. Here is her heartfelt summary of her interior and exterior afflictions (Book 3, chap. 5, "How the Soul Laments that It Cannot Hear Mass or the Daily Offices"): "Ah,' dear One, how intimately you speak to me. And yet I never dare think upon these words in joy. For I constantly notice with anguish the stench of that dead mongrel, my body; and I, Lord, when I consider the matter, have no idea how things shall turn out for me in the end. What is more, just beholding you I lose all awareness of suffering" (112). The words that I have italicized are as characteristic of Mechthild's spiritual life as are the laments that precede them. How could they not be? For all true mystics believe that an essen-tial task of souls who ha(,e answered the call to holiness is to show a sorely burdened humankind how to avoid the paths that lead to One would gravely misrepresent Mechthild of Magdeburg by dwelling only on the slanting shadows of her thought and ignoring the record of the supernatural joys she experienced. May-June 2001 Zebringer ¯ Mecbtbild's Spiritual Pilgrimage despair.~1 And they most surely accomplish this by relating their own ascent past slippery edge,s,tz One would gravely misrepresent Mechthild of Magdeburg by dwelling only on the slanting shadows of her thought and ignoring the record of the supernatural joys she experienced. There is more light than darkness to be found in The Flowing Light of the Godhead. Mechthild's active compassion and love for the suffering poor as a beguine in Magdeburg is al~other aspect of her spiritual voca-tion. She carried the interior joys of her heart to a world that needed them as surely as ours does. Father Odo Egres called her an angel of mercy who "gave love and consolation to those who in their misery looked for a ray of hope."'3 Her life, then, was not given ?ver completely to serene med-itation on the divine mysteries. The practice of prophetic speech that led to charges of heresy and hard missiles of condemnation was one to which she felt compelled by God's command. In Book 4, chapter 24, she calls her fellow pilgrims to carry out the duties of their state of life so that they find at the end that "God crowns three kinds of people with his fatherly hands: virgins, widows, and married people" (168). Not surwisingly, than, does Caroline Walker Bynum find that "Mechthild of Magdeburg sees herself as a teacher, counselor,'and mediator." 14 But there is another dimension to that part of her life when she lived as a mystic in the world. Mechthild is also a fine poet of the spiritual life and of mystical marriage with her Lord. Bea.uty and pictorial splendor are characteristics of her later work. Lucy Menzies, a 1953 editor of Mechthild's book, says, "Thehuman passion of the younger years gradually gives place to the mature spiritual poise of the late period, when like an eagle 'she soars up to gaze into the face of God.'''is That is a valid judgment, for the knowledge that she was advancing toward her lifelong goal, union with Divine Love and Truth, came steadily to the saint as she con-tinued to labor and pray. Perhaps that is why there is a joining, in her earlier visions, of what seem at first to be opposed ideas (as in the words quoted above: "Dear One, how intimately you speak to me. And yet I never dare think upoh these'words in joy"). These most likely represent, at one and the same time, Mechthild's unsettled response to the overpowering presence of her Savior, her consciousness of sin,.and her aching desire for bliss. Peter Dronke speaks perceptively of"Mechthild's anguished evo-cations of the 'fatal' quality of her love. For all its torments, she Review for Religious cannot help her longing--it is her destiny to sing of love through pain, like the nightingale." 16 And yet, in some of the later por-tions of The Flowing Light, there are harmonious images that sup-port an assured and serene conclusion. In Book 5, chapter 22, "The Seven Things of Judgment," Mechthild proclaims that "the greatest delight in doing comes from keeping one's integrity in all that one does" (196). A beautiful and unique feature of her book is the intense response of the Lord to her plaintive pleas for a surcease from suffering. Divine speech (as in Book 2, chapter 25) is expressed in ¯ cumulative phrases that pierce the heart: Your secret sighs shall reach me. Your heart's anguish can compel me. Your sweet pursuit shall so exhaust me That I shall yearn to cool myself In your limpid soul, To which I have b

Issue 55.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1996. ; fo r reli ious Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MAY-JUNE 1996 ¯ VOLUME55 ¯ NUMBER3 Revtew fo~r .Reli~tous tS a ~orum fo~r Shared reflection on the~ liVed :experie~ice @ all Who find that :the~.churCb's~ rico bemtaffes ~o~ ,sptntuaht~ "sul~OOrt the~r pdrsonal: ~a~d: apostoli~ :~e~a~cles ~tn the~jou~al are ;meant ~to~ ~e t~foNat~ve~ :~radt~dal~.~o~ in~p~at~nal, wH~en~om a th~lO~ic~l or so~nmt or:somenmes mnontcat oo~nt ot vtew,~ , : Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthlv at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP St. Bernadette Convent ¯ 76 Universit3, Blvd. East ¯ Silver Spring, MD 20901 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1996 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe TracT Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez sJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Chris~ar~ ]~er~tages and Contemporary Living MAY/JUNE 1996 ¯ VOLUME 55 ¯ NUMBER 3 230 The Ecclesiology of the U.S. Bishops' 1994 Healthcare Directives John A. Gallagher develops some implications of the ecclesiology underlying the mission, governance, and partnership found in Catholic healthcare services. 249 264 Abandonment That Enlivens and Sets Fire for Mission George Aschenbrenner SJ develops a spirituality of abandonment as central to the stability and identity of a religious congregation in respect to its mission, community, authority, and obedience. Gathering the Fragments: New Times for Obedience Judith A. Merkle SNDdeN explores obedience as affective bonding and the challenge this call presents personally, congregationally, and ecclesially. Review for Religious 283 297 Acknowledging the Gift of Gay Priestly Celibacy William McDonough presents a case for the timeliness of acknowledging the homosexual orientation of gay celibate priests as a gift to the church. HIV Testing of Seminary and Religious-Order Candidates James F. Keenan SJ reviews reasons for and against HIV testing for priesthood and religious-life candidates and suggests some ethical standards that need to be observed. 315 A Call for a Bespoke Revival of a Hijacked Tradition Bertrand Webster FMS suggests a number of ways to update our use of the rosary for both individual and communal devotion. ,~ 228 Prisms 320 Canonical Counsel: General Chapters: Historical Background 326 Book Reviews May-3~ene 1996 prisms Nostalgia becomes a fitti'ng characteristic of the poet Homer's Odysseus--in the midst of all his travels and adventures he is driven by an aching desire to return to his island home and his wife, Penelope. A contemporary dictionary builds upon the original Greek root of nostalgia, expanding its meaning from a home-sickness to the wistful and sometimes abnormal yearning for a return to some fondly remembered season of life or an unrepeatable dream. It seems to be natural for many of us to harbor a certain nostalgia for the past--either what we have experienced or, perhaps, what we have only read or heard about. Movies or television docudramas are often quite suc-cessful in evoking an appreciation of a past with a sim-pler lifestyle or less complicated human relationships. Even reading the Gospels can sometimes lead us to express the wish that we "could have lived at the time of Jesus." The nostalgia to have been among the crowd listening to Jesus speaking out the beatitudes or among the thousands fed by Jesus' miracle of the loaves and fishes receives a rude awakening when we realize that, likely enough, we would have been among those who walked away and went about their ordinary duties of life. In our daily examen of consciousness, we find that we ignore and walk away even now from the many Christs who enter our day. The church of the 13th and 14th centuries--the peak-ing of scholastic theological developments--was in fer-ment from the press of many ideas. The controversies which resulted were often worked through over long peri-ods in a debate form called quaestiones disputatae (disputed questions). The question was a technique to explore the Review for Religious writings of authorities in conflict and the process of conflicting argumentation. Today we sometimes get glimpses of this method in writings found in the medical and health-science fields. Although we may unconsciously idealize the civility of these olden theological discussions, perhaps without too much nostalgia we can appreciate an inquiring drive toward new understanding that is often missing from church life today. Maybe, with computer knowledge banks and television soundbite news, we all have become impatient with debate and discussion; we want only answers and truths and none of the messiness of living with our own responsible choice among some merely provisional under-standings available to us. God's revelation finds its fulfillment in Christ; yet even if revealed truth is complete, it remains for Christian faith to grasp its full significance over the course of centuries. Since the truth of the church's witness is still human truth, we need to ask ourselves the question: Should we not expect disputes and controversies in our theological developments and pastoral practices just as there are in other human disciplines? Consecrated life in the life of the church is not disputed, but how it fits within church structure, what new forms it takes along-side older ones, how to work out the relationship of religious superiors and bishops, and what roles consecrated life plays within the local church are some of the ongoing questions addressed in Pope John Paul's apostolic exhortation under date of 25 March 1996. The letter is the pope's reflections on the October 1994 Synod of Bishops on the consecrated life and its mission in the church and in the world. The pope's letter brings a closure to the synod and at the same time opens out its workings into the future. As one. who exhorts, the pope sees the questions around conse-crated life as reason to commit ourselves with fresh enthusiasm. He sees that the church stands in need of the spiritual and apos-tolic contribution of a renewed and revitalized consecrated life. As a resource for continuing this discussion about consecrated life, a new book, The Church and Consecrated Life, is being pub-lished by Review for Religious. The book includes a review of the official church documents on consecrated life since, Vatican a number of exploratory articles, and the pope's apostolic exhor-tation. The book is available from our St. Louis office; the cost is $20 which includes postage and handling. David L. Fleming SJ May-J, ote 1996 JOHN A. GALLAGHER The Ecclesiology of the U.S. Bishops' 1994 Healthcare Directives "Ethical and Religious Directives for Catholic Health Care Services" has been published now for about a year.' Sponsors (religious institutes, commonly), board mem-bers, and managers of Catholic healthcare organizations have had the time to reflect upon this new promulgation of directives. What new elements do they find? What will they need to assimilate into their decision-making pro-cesses and their Catholic healthcare operations in order to respond appropriately to this teaching of the American bishops? Interestingly, what is most innovative in this set of directives and most clearly different from the 1971 set is not new or more nuanced ethical teaching. Most of the individual directives are unchanged or only minimally changed. Afterations in specific ethical directives are attributable to statements from the Roman curia (for example, the responsum on uterine isolation) and to changes in the healthcare delivery system in the United States (see Part 6, Forming New Partnerships with Health Care Organizations and Providers). Perhaps the most provoca-tive ethical change can be found in Directive 57, which asserts that "excessive expense [to] the family or the com-munity" can render a life-prolonging intervention an "extraordinary" means and thus a morally optional one. The addition of "community" to the classic definition of John A. Gallagher is director for corporate ethics for the Holy Crbss Health System. His address is 3606 East Jefferson Boulevard; South Bend, Indiana 46115. Review for Religious what constitutes an extraordinary means of prolonging life will probably become controversial in a healthcare system increas-ingly dominated by managed care. What is more distinctly new in the 1994 "Directives" is the ecclesiology that can be perceived as a consistent undercurrent throughout the document. Ecclesiology is the theological disci-pline that attempts to understand what the church is, how it is related to the wider world, and how persons within the church (clergy, religious, laity) are related to one another and the church as a whole; "Directives" is not a treatise on the church. But it is concerned to identify the mission of Catholic healthcare within the mission of the church as a whole, to outline a governance structure for Catholic healthcare vis-~l-vis the local ordinary, and to set limits to cooperative arrangements between Catholic health organizations and healthcare providers daat are not Catholic. This underlying ecclesiology constitutes the truly innovative aspect of "Directives." This inchoate episcopal teaching merits serious the-ological consideration by the sponsors and leaders of Catholic healthcare. TheMission of Catholic Healthcare and the Church's Mission How convenient it would be to begin with a definition of church. But mysteries are not readily captured in crisp definitions. Theologians have contented themselves with speaking of the marks or characteristics of the church (one, holy, catholic, apos-tolic). The fathers of Vatican Council II frequently employed analogies from Scripture to provide clarification concerning the nature of the church. The closest they came to a definition was to assert, in Lumen gentium, that the church is the visible sacrament of the saving unity offered to people through the redemptive work of Christ (LG §9). In his masterful Models of the Church, Avery Dulles SJ pro-posed five models, analogies which enable some further under-standing of the mystery of the church? These models are derived from ecclesiologies developed by various theologians to portray what they believed to be the essential characteristic of the church. The models describe the church as institution, mystical commu-nion, sacrament, herald, and servant. Dulles's argument is that, though the church is no one of these models, its identity can be May-~une 1996 Gallagber ¯ Ecclesiology of the 1994 Healtbcare Directives partially clarified through reflection upon each of them. In a sub-sequent edition Dulles added a sixth model, the church as a com-munity of disciples, to emphasize the inherent cohesiveness and unity among the models and indeed of the church itself. The mission of the church pertains to its activities as a "fel-lowship of life, charity, and truth" founded by Christ to be his "instrument for the redemption of all" (LG §9; see also Ad gentes §5). Note that the mission of the church is simply another man-ner of speaking about what the church is; "mission" is a clarifi-cation, not the addition of some further information. The church is its mission. To assert that the church is "visible sacrament" is to clarify both what the church is and what it does. So with each of Dulles's models: they portray not only what the church is, but also what it does. The church is an institution, and many of its activities result from the fact that it has social, legal, and hierar-chical structures. The church is a mystical communion which unites those who are within it and identifies its relationship with other religious groups. The church as sacrament is the visible symbol of the redemptive work of Christ; its activities are symbols having their effect in the world today. The church as herald pro-claims Jesus' redeeming gospel. The church as servant extends its witness into the secular world. The mission of Catholic healthcare is but one manifestation of the mission of the church as a whole; it partakes in that visible sacrament of redemption, in that mystery which is the church's very being. The mission of the church is manifested also in Catholic parochial life, in education, and in various charitable enterprises. The healing mission of Jesus, "Directives" asserts, touches all of Catholic healthcare: The mystery of Christ casts light on every facet of Catholic healthcare: to see Christian love as the animating princi-ple of healthcare; to see healing and compassion as a con-tinuation of Christ's mission; to see suffering as a participation in the redemptive power of Christ's passion, death, and resurrection; and to see death, transformed by the resurrection, as an opportunity for a final act of com-munion with Christ. ("Directives" booklet, p. 6) Thus, Catholic healthcare is a particular specification of the mission of the church itself. As the documefits of Vatican II say with regard to missionary endeavors, so also with regard to Catholic healthcare, "the differences to be found in this activity Review for Religious of the church do not result from the inner nature of her mission itself, but are due rather to the circumstances in which this mis-sion is exercised" (AG §6). "Directives" (p. 1) indicates that a major reason why a revision was needed was developments within the church: changes in reli-gious orders and congregations, the increased involvement of lay men and women, a heightened awareness of the church's social role in the world, and developments in moral theology. Another major reason was the reconfiguration of the American healthcare system. The acute-care hospital and the long-term- care facility, the two places where most Catholic healthcare has been provided, are being incorporated nowadays into integrated delivery systems. Catholic healthcare organi-zations are b.ecoming owners or partners of these systems or are providing services within them and thus are assuming some fundamen-tally new obligations. Accordingly it became necessary to reflect anew on Catholic health-care's mission. But why explicitly? With Catholic health-care now consisting of myriad structures and organizations by which an array of healthcare services is provided to individual persons and communities, what the new "Directives" intends to accomplish is "a theological basis for the Catholic healthcare ministry" (p. 2). The healthcare ministry has always been manifested in the activities of physicians and nurses, orderlies and aides; women and men dedicated to care of the poor, the dying, the homeless. This ministry was in part animated by people's desire to mirror the healing mission of Jesus. In the United States, Catholic healthcare ministry has, along with the witness of these many individuals, also been closely identified with the healthcare institutions that many religious congregations have sponsored and governed. Now, however, as "Directives" notes, lay people are increasingly emerg-ing as the leaders of this ministry. "Directives," which is "con-cerned primarily with institutionally based Catholic healthcare services" (p, 2), is intended to provide a theological basis for con-temporary Catholic healthcare ministry because this ministry must increas.ingly receive its theological impetus from the apos-tolic endeavors of lay people rather than from the church- What the new "Directives" intends to accomplish is "a theological basis for the Catholic healthcare ministry." May-~une 1996 Gallagber ¯ Ecclesiolog~ of the 1994 Healtbcare Directives approved constitutions and the apostolic vision of sponsoring congregations. This point is crucial for understanding the ecclesiology of "Directives." Catholic healthcare in the United States has almost exclusively been the ministry of religious women. As the number of religious available for the ministry continues to decline, lay women and men, i~acluding indeed a significant number of non- Catholics, have become leaders of the Catholic healthcare min-istry. From the perspective of the mission of the church and the perspective of lay Catholics, this is a major development. Laypersons are now leaders of an institutional Catholic ministry, roles traditionally reserved to clerics and religious. Lay people are no longer at the periphery; no longer just collaborators, they are increasingly the major participants. The laity has always had a role in fulfilling the mission of the church. The apostolate of the laity has generally been construed as bringing the mission of the church into the secular world. Lumen gentium defines the lay apostolate as "a participation in the saving mission of the church itself" and describes the role of the laity as making "the church present and operative in those places and circumstances where only through them can she become the salt of the earth" (§33). The lay apostolate, however, has generally been embodied in the activities of individual Catholic men and women. In their lives of service as doctors, lawyers, judges, and teachers, they concomitantly witnessed to the saving mystery of Christ. They sometimes joined associations of Catholic lawyers or doctors and sometimes taught or practiced in a Catholic college or hospital, but for the most part their apos-tolate was conducted outside an institution officially associated with the mission of the church. If Catholic lay-persons chose to carry out their apostolate in a Catholic school or hospital, it was the priests or religious who were the sponsors and administra-tors. It was the presence of priests and religious that both canon-ically and de facto gave the institution its Catholic identity and its link to themission of the church. ~ Such an understanding of institutions as vehicles for the mis-sion of the church has become codified in canon law. The law strives to assure that the property and financial resources of such institutions will be used e~xclusively for the mission of the church (canon 1254, §2). When a bishop confers Catholic identity on an educational or healthcare institution, he expects that certain obli- Review for Religious gations of faith and administration will be embodied in the life of that organization.3 A Catholic institution ought to carry out its ministry in a manner that reflects the church's understanding of the gospel and the tradition. "Ethical and Religious Directives" is the episcopal effort to delineate at least some aspects of the church's current understanding of the gospel as it relates to the healthcare ministry. What is most innovative about "Directives" is that it acknowl-edges and endorses the leadership role of the laity in these insti-nations. In the past, as lay people participated in the ministry of priests and sisters, they were sometimes encouraged to model their lives on those of religious, to become mem-bers of third orders, in order to enter more fully into the ministry. But now laypersons qua laypersons are becoming the major par-ticipants in this ministry. In line with what Yves Congar OP wrote shortly after World War II, lay people in the American church have now begun to take part "in the hierar-chical apostolate, that is, in that sacred activ-ity., which defines the church's proper task and mission.''4 Thus "Ethical and Religious Directives" announces a significantly new manner in which the ministry of Catholic healthcare will be conducted in the 21 st century. This sort of development is occurring also in other institutional ministries of the church in the United States. The laity are increasingly being recruited into leadership positions on all levels of Catholic education, In a recent address Father Philip Murnion, director of the National Pastoral Life Center, said that "the fuimre of parish ministry, of educatior~, of pastoral care 'and the development of worship life will increasingly be in the hands of the laity."s The laity are fill-ing the vacuum created by the declining numbers of priests and religious active in the church's institutional life~ Therefore, as Ladislas Orsy SJ has recently suggested, the opinions and rec-ommendations of layperson~ will need to be'more fully integrated into institutional decision making within the church.6 If lay people are to constitute the staff and leadership of Catholic healthcare in the 21st century, how is that ministry to be "The future of parish ministry, of education, of pastoral care and the development of worship life will increasingly be in the hands of the laity." May-~une 1996 Gallagber ¯ Ecclesiology of the 1994 Healtbcare Directives theologically articulated? At the presenttime, mission statements and core values derived from the constitutions and way of life of the sponsoring congregations have provided the sense of purpose and direction that animates the ministry. But, as sponsorship becomes more tenuous and at some point no longer exists, what will replace it? At that point American Catholic healthcare will be drawn back to its ecclesial roots, to what is common to the founding congregations and to the lay apostolate and to the ministry of healthcare: the mission of the church. How the participants in Catholic healthcarewill articulate the relation between the mis-sion of the church and the ministry of healthcare in 2025 or 2050 lies far beyond the worries of current leaders of Catholic health-care. But it is the duty of those who live in a period of transition like ours to begin to make the theological transitions. Dulles's models, I believe, provide us with theological categories with which to begin such a reflection.7 The church as institution, sacrament, and mystical commu-nion will'always be central to its healthcare ministry because those words describe what the church is, as does the word mission. As an institutional ministry, Catholic healthcare must maintain its link to the church as institution. Catholic healthcare will always be sacramental; it will continue to serve as a symbol of the healing and caring ministry of Christ. The anointing of the sick, the sacra-ment of reconciliation, and especially the Eucharist will continue to be essential in Catholic healthcare's holistic healing ministry. Further, as an institutional ministry staffed by persons of many faiths and providing services to a culturally and religiously diverse population, the Catholic healthcare ministry will continue to be a sign of the church as mystical communion. In, a time of transition such as the present, however, and as "Directives" makes clear, there are dangers in the current envi-ronment which jeopardize this relationship. The three models we have just discussed will not be adequate to describe the Catholic healthcare of the 21st century. As laypersons increas-ingly become the bearers of the ministry of Catholic healthcare, it is the herald and servant models of the church that will best correspond to Catholic healthcare's activities. The servant model construes the church's activities in a sec-ular- dialogic model, "secular, because the church takes the world as a properly theological locus, and seeks to discern the signs of Review for Religiotts the times; dialogic, because it seeks to operate on the frontier between the contemporary world and the Christian tradition.''8 Patient care, relations with collaborators and other providers, and the governance and management of multibillion-dollar corpora-tions will increasingly draw the healthcare ministry into a world with which it can never be truly at ease and which it cannot con-trol; but it is the world in which the healthcare ministry will make present the saving mystery of Christ. Will Catholic healthcare as servant be able to have signifi-cant influence on the business and medical spheres which will shape its institutional presence in the world? The values of med-ical science and of business and the manner in which they affect the lives of individual persons and communities will be the socio-cultural matrix which the church as servant will seek to influence. The servant model directs the ministry of laypersons where it has traditionally been done, the secular world. But the lay people enter this world no longer as individuals, but with the collective power, influence, and responsibility associated with the leader-ship of an institutional ministry. The church as herald is, in a sense, the counterpart of the church as servant, The latter seeks to engage the secular world, to bring about at least a partial recognition of the human signifi-cance of gospel values. The church as herald, on the o.ther hand, does not seek the transformation of society, but contents itself with witnessing to the Word of God. The church is gathered by the Word of God which it has received as "an official message with the commission to pass it on.''9 The church as herald com-plements the church as servant by recalling to Catholic healthcare that fidelity to God's Word is the test of its collaboration in a secular world. The Governance Structure of Catholic Healthcare The 1971 version of "Ethical and Religious Directives" makes no specific reference to the role of the local bishop in regard to the affairs of Catholic healthcare organizations. The 1994 edi-tion, on the other hand, assigns a major role to the local bishop in the governance of healthcare organizations within the diocese. The healthcare ministry in a local diocese is an activity in which the diocesan bishop exercises responsibilities that are rooted in his office as pastor, teacher, and priest. As the center of Gallagber ¯ Ecclesiolo~mtof tbe 1994 Healtbcare Directives unity in the diocese and coordinator of ministries in the local church, the diocesan bishop fosters the mission of Catholic healthcare in a way that promotes collaboration among healthcare leaders, providers, medical profession-als, theologians, and other specialists. As pastor the dioce-san bishop is in a unique position to encourage the faithful to greater responsibility in the healing ministry of the church. As teacher the diocesan bishop ensures the moral and religious identity of the healthcare ministry in what-ever setting it is carried out in the diocese. As priest the diocesan bishop oversees the sacramental care of the sick. ("Directives," p. 4) Individual directives define the role of the local bishop in the founding of new Catholic healthcare facilities (no. 8), in the administration of the sacraments to non-Catholics (no. 20), and in the appointment of Catholic and non-Catholic chaplains (nos. 21, 22), especially the director of pastoral care (no. 21). Directive 37 proposes that there be some form of liaison between ethics committees and the local bishop. Part 6 deeply involves the :bishop in decisions of Catholic healthcare institutions concerning entrance into new partnerships and alliances. The local bishop is to be consulted (no. 67), and in some instances appropriate autho-rization or a nihil obstat is to be obtained from him. "Directives" of 1994 articulates a set of mutual responsibilities between the local bishop and the leadership of the healthcare ministries within the diocese. The issues posed by these aspects of "Directives" define how the governance of the bishop is to be exercised. These are fundamentally issues of ecclesiology, not of ethics or morality. Their purpose is to clarify the relationship of the local bishop to the ministries of Catholic healthcare in his diocese. The point is to specify the mutual responsibilities of bishops and the boards and senior management of Catholic healthcare orga-nizations. The more subtle and more important purpose is to maintain the link between the local church and its healthcare ministry. It will be important for Catholic healthcare and the bishops to consider whether this is the appropriate relationship. The ecclesiology of this section of "Directives" is based upon the canonical principle that a .bishop is subject to no higher author-ity in his diocese other than the pope (canon 381). But Catholic healthcare organizations and their member institutions crisscross diocesan lines. Indeed the healthcare ministry is partially set within individual dioceses, but its service and witness are spread Review for Religious to the American healthcare system as a whole. Although canoni-cally there is no such thing as the American Catholic church, it is within the publicly recognized reality of such an organization that the Catholic healthcare ministry exists. That the local bishop is the sole person with the authority to confer Catholic identity upon a new healthcare facility is certainly nothing new, nor is it riew that the bishop should have. a role in the appointment of Catholic chaplains and oversee the administration of the sacraments. Both of these activities pertain to the institutional and sacramental aspects of the church, which are at the heart of a bishop's ministry. What will require clarification is the role of bishops with regard to. ethics commit-tees and the formation of partnerships and other alliances. Ethics committees exist in virtually every Catholic hospital in the United States. They provide three functions. First, they offer edu-cational programs for physicians, nurses, and staff. Second, although they do not make patient-care decisions, they do provide consul-tation to patieni:s, families, nurses, and physi-cians concerning ethical issues that can arise in the course of patient care. Third, they collabo-rate with the officers and board of a hospital in writing policies on such issue~ as "do not resuscitate" orders, informed consent, and physician-assisted suicide. Through such policies Catholic hos-pitals have expressed their compliance with "Ethical and Religious Directives." Many Catholic hospitals possess written policies on abortion, sterilization, contraception, and euthanasia. Physicians, nurses, and other medical personnel practicing within the hospi-tal are expected to conform their treatment plans to the policies of the hospital. The work of the ethics committee is one of the places where Catholic healthcare as h~rald is particularly active. These com-mittees grapple with the concrete details of medical practice within an acute-care setting. The committees require the skills and knowledge base of physicians, nurses, ethicists, and hospital administrators. They apply ~he principles of Catholic healthcare to concrete patient-care decision~. They do so in an environment in which professional medical standards, patient preferences, the What will require clarification is the role of bishops with regard to ethics committees and the formation of partnerships and other alliances. May-J*lne 1996 Gallagber ¯ " Ecclesioloy~y._of tbe 1994 Healtbca~re_D__irec~'.v_e. ,s, desires of insurance companies and other payers, the dictates of civil law, and the teaching of the Catholic hierarchy may not be in agreement. As Catholic hospitals are progressively integrated into organized delivery systems, the work of the ethics commit-tees will need to migrate from the acute-care setting directly into the managed-care environment where the major policy and patient-care decisions will be made. In many instances the Catholic organization will be part of a larger whole; it will not have the same degree of control over policies and patient-care decisions that it has had in the past. If bishops or their representatives enter the deliberations of ethics committees with the same sense of purpose as other par-ticipants in the healthcare ministry, if they come as servants and as heralds, then they will be received as welcome collaborators. The work of ethics committees is very concrete; rarely is time devoted to the discussion of ethical theory or metaethics. Consensus is the mode of decision making on which these com-mittees thrive.I° Authoritarian interventions in the work of ethics committees simply will not work. They will drive away the col-laborators essential for the successful operation of a contemporary ethics committee. How the bishop chooses to interact with the ethics committees associated with healthcare ministries in his dio-cese will determine the contribution these interventions will make to the ministry of Catholic healthcare. A recent article by Kevin Wildes SJ deals with the role that the 1994 "Directives" ascribes to the local bishop. He concludes by saying that the ecclesiology of "Directives" marks a shift toward a top-down model in ecclesiology. The Catholic tradition, Wildes argues, has generally maintained an uneasy tension between those in authority (the pope, the bishops) and those considered to be authorities (theologians). Wildes's concern is that "Directives" gives the impression of being "an effort of those in authority to restrict the space and liberty of those who are an authority.''a~ Wildes's premonition must be taken seriously. The list of those who are authorities in the area of healthcare must include physi-cians, nurses, healthcare administrators, and an array of other professionals whose expertise is essential to the management of American healthcare organizations. Successful relationships among these professionals are based upon collaboration, trust, and a mutual sharing of values. Any form of authoritarianism which denies or rejects the integrity and professionalism of one's col- Review for Religious leagues will destroy the healthcare ministry, which can exist only in a world that does not completely share its values. The legitimate concerns of local bishops for the future of the healthcare ministry in their dioceses is obvious. In some places the institutions of Catholic healthcare are the most visible signs of the church in a diocese. Ethics committees within Catholic health-care organizations address issues that go to the heart of the mis-sion of Catholic healthcare, to the implementation of its fundamental purpose. "Directives" does not propose that the bishop or his representative be directly involved in the work of the committee. Rather, it says that there should be "appropriate stan-dards for medical ethical consultation within a particular diocese that will respecLthe diocesan bishop's pastoral responsibility as well as assist members of ethics committees to be familiar with Catholic medical ethics" (no. 3 7). The purpose of the directive can be most suitably fulfilled by the bishop's creation of a diocesan committee to inform and advise the bishop in the exercise of his stewardship of the healthcare ministry. Such diocesan committees, many of which are already in the process of formation, must be staffed by healthcare profes-sionals and theologians knowledgeable about the realities of the contemporary American healthcare delivery system. Where dio-ceses are small and lack appropriate resources or where diocesan boundaries overlap the service areas of Catholic healthcare min-istries, such committees could be established within regional or state episcopal conferences. In either case, such a committee offers the bishop the means of informing himself on the issues con-fronting the healthcare ministry before becoming directly involved. The Creation of New Partnerships Until relatively recently, Catholic healthcare organizations, like their counterparts in the overall American healthcare deliv-eW system, functioned as independent, autonomous institutions. If there were several Catholic hospitals or long-term-care facili-ties within a diocese, they existed in isolation from one another. There were few reasons for them to function conjointly. The reform of the healthcare delivery system within the United States has greatly altered this basic characteristic of the Catholic health-care ministry. Collaboration, partnerships, and alliances have replaced the earlier autonomy of American healthcare. May-June 1996 Gallagber * Ecclesioloffy of the 1994 Healtbcare Directives The many reasons underlying this ~ajor reconfiguration of the healthcare delivery system reasons already well known to sponsors, board members, and managers of Catholic he~althcare are not ~irectly germane to the purposes of this essay. The con-sequences of this realignment, 'however, are among the fundamental reastn~ for the revision of "Directives," with its emphasis on ecclesiology. The"buzzword in American healthcare is integration. A health- ~are organization, hospital, or long-term-care facility, must be integrated horizontally and vertically. Horizontal integration implies a collaboration or alliance among an array of healthcare organizati6ns that can provide all the services necessary to sustain the wellness and treat the illnesses of a covered 15opulation. Such an integrated delivery network (IDN) or organized deli,cery sys-tem (ODS) will contain primary-care and specialist physicians; ambulatory-care centers, labs and centers for diagnostic medicine, pharmacies, long-term-care facilities, and acute-care hospitals. Vertical integration, refers to the manner in which th6 IDN or ODS is aligned with a system of payers and insurance compianies that furnish the financial support for the network of providers. The stand-alone hospital or long-term-care facility has no future in a healthcare system based upon horizontal and vertical inte-gration. The question the mission and business question before every CathOlic healthcare organization over the past several years has been: With whom should it be a partner? Successful IDNs and ODSs have secured sources of revenue (payers, insurance companies)' and can offer an appropriate array of health services across a geographicalarea. Such IDNs and ODSs have set up rela-tionships with a large number of physicians, have made agree-ments with multiple providers Working together, and have entered into contracts with multiple suppliers of goods and services. These are large complex btisiness operations. Catholic healthcare orga-nizations seek either to become members of or to create such IDNs and ODSs as ways of resolving their business questions. But the presence of a Catholic healthtare organization within a viable IDN or ODS does not necegsarily ensure an appropria'te resolution to the mission quest!on. Can Catholic healthcare insti-tutions be pfir~ners with for-profit corporations? Can they be partners with institutions that provide abortions or other proce-dures that conflict with the "Ethical and Religious Directives"? Review for Religious Can the Catholic healthcare.minlstry retain its status as an instru-ment of the mission of the church in whatever sort of business,~ economic, or healthcare environment? Questions such as these are what induced the bishops to put Part 6 into "Directives" and to append their interpretation of formal and material cooperation. At the present time, Catholic healthcare organizations are developing and acting upon diverse answers to the mission question. Cardinal Bernardin is attempting to facilitate the development of an alliance among the Catholic hospitals of the Chicago archdiocese. Catholic Health Care West has created in California a statewide IDN/ODS that is composed largely of Catholic providers. In Indianapolis, St. Vincent's Hospital has created an alliance with Community Hospitals, a not-for-profit organization, in which other Catholic and non- Catholic organizations are in the process of seeking membership. Recently the Sisters of Charity of St. Augustine ~in Cleveland announced that their hospitals would be entering a partnership with Columbia/HCA, a for-profit hospital corporation. In each of these four very different IDNs/ODSs, the Catholic parties have contended that they are making a business ar}angement that is compatible with their healthcare ministry. "Directives" encourages the leaders of Catholic healthcare to consult with the local bishop and to seek his approval or nihil obstat in the creation of partnerships that will affect the organi-zati0n's mission (no. 68). This process of consultation and approval is a matter of central importance to the leadership of Catholic healthcare organizations as well as to the members of the hierar-chy. Ho~ it is to be conducted and what its goals are will be key factors in the success of such a process. Several directives touch upon issues internal to the process of consultation and approval. Directive 59 stipulates that the prin-ciples governing cooperation should be used to limit the partic-ipation of a Catholic organization in an alliance which provides services "judged morally wrong by the church." Such services, referred to elsewhere in "Directives," include abortion (no. 45), euthanasia (no. 60), direct st~erilization (no. 53), contraception The stand-alone hospital or long-term-care facility has no future in a healthcare system based upon horizontal and vertical integration. May-.]une 1996 Gallagber * Ecclesiolog~f tbe 1994 Healtbcare Directives (no. 52), and artificial fertilization that separates the unitive and procreative components of the marital act (nos. 40, 41). Scandal, the appearance of cooperating in and accepting as permissible an objectively immoral act, rnust be avoided in the partnerships entered into by Catholic healthcare ministries (no. 45). Of course, avoidance of scandal would be agreed to unhesi-tatingly by all parties to this process of consultation and approval. Scandal is a sin against charity, against the very bond that unites persons within the church. No participant in the Catholic health-° care ministry would willingly let the organization's activities be a source of scandal. The more likely discussion would focus on what, in fact, constitutes scandal. The concepts of formal and material cooperation in the evil of others have generally been the gauges used by moral theologians to make such a determination. It is at least questionable, however, whether this mode of moral reasoning will be sufficient to resolve the issues that currently confront the ministry of Catholic healthcare. The concepts of formal and material cooperation were devel-oped by theologians to resolve the qu.estion of the culpability of one person's cooperation in another's morally evil act. The clas-sic example in recent medical ethics has been the Catholic nurse who cooperates with a physician in performing an abortion. If the nurse's cooperation was simply to care for the woman after the procedure in a postoperative (post-op) area, her cooperation was generally deemed remote and material. Her actions were after the fact (remote) and incidental to the act of an abortive-proce-dure; she was simply providing care that would be provided to any post-op patient (material). Indeed, under the principles gov-erning cooperation, a nurse could assist in the abortive proce-dure by handing instruments to the physician if she did not intend the evil of abortion, was performing a task that was itself not immoral (simply handling the surgical instruments), was under duress to cooperate in the procedure (fear of loss of job), had voiced her opposition to the.' procedure, and was not repeatedly placed in this situation.12 The principles governing cooperation were developed to assist confessors in their assessment of the moral culpability of penitents coerced in some fashion to coop-erate in the evil of another. Can it be applied to the activities of healthcare institutions? Fathers James Keenan and Thomas Kopfensteiner, the authors of the appendix to "Directives" that defines the principles gov- Rewiew for Religiot~s erning cooperation, contend that such is the case.13 However, this issue requires further reflection. Certainly the decision-making processes of corporations and institutions are much more complex than those of individuals. Decision making in modem corporations and institutions is spread all through them. Corporate boards endorse or reject proposals made by CEOs and their senior man-agers; CEOs and their management teams approve or modify rec-ommendations from directors and managers. In the healthcare setting, physicians have a strong influence on decisions about healthcare delivery. Corporate decision making is the result of an ongoing, multileveled, integrated discourse that eventually reaches a decision. Although corporations and institutions are moral agents, their agency ought not be confused with that of individual persons. It will be from within the corporate structures which consti-tute the decision-making processes of the Catholic healthcare ministry that the future profile of that ministry will be discerned. If the principles governing cooperation assist some organizations in responding to the question of the manner in which their health-care ministry can be legitimately configured in an IDN/ODS, then clearly they should employ them. Many Catholic organiza-tions, however, have begun to develop processes of corporate ~dis-cernment in order to ensure'that their activities in a reconfigured delivery system will continue to be an authentic ministry in sup-port of the mission of the church. Such decision-making processes are being developed for sev-eral reasons. "Directives" (pp. 6-7) has identified some key values for the Catholic healthcare ministry, "normative principles that inform the church's health ministry": human dignity, care of the poor, the common good, stewardship of resources, and the right to refuse services inconsistent with church teaching. The first four of these principles are clearly values that leaders of Catholic healthcare can share with potential collaborators. Although these values are central to the Catholic ethical tradition, they are also readily embraced by others. Catholic healthcare personnel strive to cooperate with other providers who share these basic values. An IDN/ODS becomes an instance of the very concrete manner in which such principles become embodied in a corporate structure composed of Catholic, and non-Catholics dedicated to providing healthcare services for a community. Indeed, agreement on these values does not necessarily resolve the issue of a Catholic orga- May-~une 1996 ; Gallagber ¯ Ecclesiology of the 1994 Healtbcare Directives nization's partnership with an organization that provides elective tubal ligations or even.abortions. But it does widen out the array of issues that are deemed relevant in determining whether~a par-ticular partnership or alliance will be acceptable to a local bishop. These fundamental values of the Catholic healthcare min-istry need to be woven into an array of complex business deci-sions. The very location of places of service will say much about an organization's commitment to care of the poor. The managed-care programs of Catholic organizations and their human-resource practices will portray their interpretation of human dignity. The various allocations of capitated dollars within a system are signs of the system's stewardship of resources. Finally, how an IDN/ODS plans for care of the poor in a nation that has growing numbers of people without health insurance and that faces pending reduc-tions in Medicare and Medicaid spending will be a witness to an important value. All of these decisions need to be made within corporate structures that will take the values central to all Catholic healthcare ministry and make them operative in a given institu-tional structure. Careful processes of discernment assist board members and the leadership of Catholic healthcare organizations to identify the explicit rationale for individual decisions. Such processes pose questions: Why are we doing this? ls this decision in support of the ministry of Catholic healthcare? Will this deci-sion not only facilitate the success of this organization as a busi-ness operation, but also enhance its ministry? In their discussion and discernment about the purpose and practice of their ministry, Catholic healthcare organizations go well beyond the principles governing cooperation. Catholic healthcare has never defined itself in negative'terms. It was not created, nor has it continued into the present, in order not to do certain things. The foundresses of Catholic healthcare and their successors endeavored to operate virtuous institutions that would serve their communities. Current and ongoing reflection by a new generation of successors sets the same positive goals and strives to choose wisely the means to accomplish them. These ~eflective processes are educational; they require that individual board members,and managers, become familiar with the values that.shape the behavior and expectations of the orga-nization. Since values like human dignity and care of the poor are part of the discourse part of what the organization talks about and how it makes its decisions new members need to Review for Religious become sensitized to these values in order to function profes-sionally within it. A culturally diverse professiona! staff can be attracted to ~'participate in the activities of a virtuoias institution that strives to embody values in its services. Their involvement in such an institution need not jeopardize their own religious con-victions. The reflective processes of corporate discernment can con-tribute to the refounding of the healthcare ministry. At this point both bi~shops and leaders of Catholic healthcare are more certain about what the healthcare ministry was than what it is or will be. Latent in all who are concerned for the future of the healthcare ministry is a longing, perhaps even an expectataon, that some wily theologian will identify the essence of Catholic healthcare so that, knowing what that essence or nature is, they can produce it and make it available. But this is not likely to be the case. Catholic healtheare in the past was built upon the religious values and commitments of women who forged a ministry in isolated railroad towns in the West and in the urban poverty of 19th-century American cities. People who practice reflective disc~i'nment together will not discover the new essence of the healthcare min- )stry, but they will invite the leaders of this ministry into a period of dialectics in which the clash of facts and values, of business realities and religious visions, wil.l give rise to a new foundation of the Catholic healthcare ministry. Reflective discernment pro-cesses are heuristic: they strive to pose questions whose answers will render the world in which we live coherent and enlivening. But Catholic healthcare is not yet in such a world. In all like-lihood, it will be some time before the healthcare ministry is securely situated on a new foundation. When that time arrives, Catholic healthcare will be distinct from what it was for most of the 20th century. Yet, in a form that is not altogether clear at this time, it will be a ministry of service and witness, of diaconia and kerygma. At present, however, American Catholic healthcare remains a pilgrim ministry that tries to read the signs of the times and find its way into the future. Notes 1 "Ethical and Religious Directives for~Catholic Health Care Services" was approved by the National Council of Catholic Bishops at their November 1994 meeting. First published in Origins 24~ no. 27 (15 December 1994): 449-462, it was afterwards published as a booklet (Washington: United States Catholic Conference, February 1995). May-yTune 1996 Ga/lagber * Ecdesiology of the 1994 Healtbcare Directives 2 Avery Dulles SJ, Models of the Church (New York: Doubleday, 1974). ~ Adam J. Maida, Church Property, Church Finances, and Church Related Corporations (St. Louis: Catholic Health Association, 1984), pp. 53-58. 4 Yves Congar Op, Lay People in the Church, trans. Donald Attwater (London: Bloomsbury Publishing Co., 1957), p, xxiv. s Philip Murnion, "The Next Steps for the Laity," Origins 25, no, 2 (1995): 30. 6 Ladislas Orsy SJ, "Structures for the Vision: An Interview with Ladislas Orsy sJ," America, 7 October 1995, p. 12. 7 See Bernard Lonergan SJ, Method in Theology (New York~ Herder and Herder, 1974), pp. 285-293. s Dulles, Models, p. 92. 9 Dulles, Models, p. 76. ~0 See K. Danner Clouser and Bernard Gert, "A Critique of Principlism," Journal of Medicine and Philosophy 15 (1990): 219-236; John Arras, "Getting Down to Cases: The Revival of Casuistry in Bioethics," Journal of Medicine and Philosophy 16 (1991): 29-52. See also Jonathan D. Moreno, Deciding Togetber: Bioetbics and Moral Consensus (New York: Oxford University Press, 1995). ~ Kevin Wildes sJ, "A Memo for the Central Office: The 'Ethical and Religious Directives for Catholic Health Care Services,'" Kennedy Institute of Ethics Journal 5 (1995): 138. ,2 Orville N. Griese, Catholic Ide~nti?y in Health Care: Principles and Practice (Braintree: Pope John Centei', 1987), p. 401. ~3 James Keenan and Thomas Kopfensteiner, "The Principle of Cooperation," Health Progress, April 1995, p. 24. Annunciation Having left no hint Of handkerchief or halo, Gabriel was gone. There was no other word between them needed, For she and God would grow together so, No angel would intrude. Sally Witt csJ Review for Religious GEORGE ASCHENBRENNER Abandonment That Enlivens and Sets on Fire for Mission In 'recent times mission, community, authority, and obe-dience have not always blended well in religious congre-gations. But, when a congregation carefully integrates these four elements, it possesses a healthy center of religious experience that makes possible a clarity of identity, a cohe-siveness of membership, and, most importantly, a fire for mission. This is the thesis of this article. The challenge .fa.c.ing us religious today is not simply a matter of deploy-ing members efficiendy or satisfying their ministerial pref-erences. Rather, the challenge includes a self-abandonment that renews the members' total reliance on a loving God while enlivening them and setting them on fire for mis-sion, their hearts fused together in one consecration. The issue fundamentally is religious and spiritual. Mission always has the overarching importance when-ever it is related to community, authority, .and obedience. Mission, as the very heart and meaning of any congrega-tion, ties the members into the great desires of God as revealed in Jesus. Surely more than being just a job, mis-sion draws its effectiveness from a spiritual theology, active and unitive within the hearts of all the members. At the same time, though mission has a priority over the other three elements, it can never replace any of them without George Aschenbrenner SJ is presently director of the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth at Church Road; Box 223; Wernersville, Ptnnsylvania 19565. symposium part 2 May-j~une 1996 Ascbenbrenner ¯ Abandonment That Enlivens seriously weakening the congregation's overall effectiveness and corrupting the significance of the element apparently replaced. Obedience when separated from the other three becomes an unhealthy ascetical practice, something shortsightedly in and for itself. Mission when separated from community produces a scat-ter- shot diffused effect, and community without much relation to mission narcissistically turns in upon itself. No, there is no avoiding the interrelationship of these four elements. The very identity and stability of a congregation depend upon it. A clear central integration~of these four elemeflts is as neces-sary for active as for mona~stic congregations, despite the signif-icant differences between them. In religious life today this fourfold central unity may express itself differently in the two, but it r~emains important for both.~ Though not easily accomplished, this central unity .can take on a critical importance in active con-gregations. Because it is the nature of an active community that its members be sent out and dispersed in a variety of ministries, the accomplishment of unity and a sense of felt membership can be difficult. But when the centrifugal force of ministry is not bal-anced with the appropriate centripetal force of community, the pain of disunity and loneliness can destroy the congregation. In many cases the issue addressed here touches on nothing less than the very survival of the group. After renewing a basic .supposition about religious life, I will develop a spirituality of abandonment as central to ,apostolic mis-sion. This spirituality has four different personal objects and cen. trally affects the exercise of religious government for mission. Finally, four results emerge when an appropri.ate,integration of our foursome is ~achieved. Religious Life: Essentially Corporate Existence Orders and congregations each have their own version of the evangelical imperatives of chastity, poverty, and obedience, but all of them have a corporate faith, focused in a shared vision and mission, that distinguishes religious life from other life-forms in the church. In the midst of a great variety of changes within reli-gious life, an essential corporate existence continues to play a central identifying role. And t.hough the und~erstanding of reli-gious community has shifted a lot since Vatican Council II, only some clear shared corporate vision--believed and practiced by Review for Religious all--can prevent religious life from changing into a wholly dif-ferent form. This fundamental communitarian existence stands as one identifying continuity stretching back even to Pachomius in the 4th century. At a time of shifting meanings for religious community, care must be taken not to lose the reality. Especially in the active apos-tolic model, one of the revealing signs of a religious vocation con-tinues to be a genuine desire for a shared faith and life. This must include some form of the following actions done together: shar-ing faith, praying, living, and ministering. These shared actions are not arbitrarily left to the individual's choice or whim. They con-stitute membership. So one is excused only for directly ministe-rial reasons. These commitment mechanisms ritualize in some genuine fashion the corporate vision and faith. Without such reg-ularly siiared experiences, the sense of religious community becomes ethereal and chimerical. Therefore, in some carefully understood sense, religious life is life in community, and not just on one's own. For an active religious, not to have a genuine desire to be,together in praying, living, and ministering becomes a seri-ous countersign to membership and cannot simply be tolerated. This corporate shared life has within it a dynamic impulse to public, visible expression. The life-form of a secular institute runs on~a different dynamic: to be hidden and unrecognized within the secular society. And so, ordinarily the religious life-form will stand out more than that of a secular institute. This element of public visibility gives external expression to the essential corpo-rate nature of religious life. Of cot~rse, the evangelical impera-tives, especially celibate chastity, add their own focus~to this central corporate identity. My point here is simple and clear: reli-gious life is not something done on my own and alone. It is always a shared corporate vision and existence. Mission: A Profound Spirituality and Theology Mission is a great growing concern within religious life today, and well it should be. But this great concern can be misunder-stood. In these days of second, third, and even fourth careers, more and more religious find themselves wondering "What would I like to do now?" or "What should I try after ten years of teach-ing?" Though these and similar wonders can naturally entertain our minds, they can fixate us on too superficial a level. As men- May-June 1996 Aschenbrenner ¯ Abandonment That Enlivens tioned above, mission is not finally a matter of personal preference and efficient deployment of members. Mission in religious life always catches fire in a profound the-ology and spirituality. Religious consecration gathers together and roots members in the mystery of Jesus' obedience to the great universal mission of God's love. A passionate desire for every-body to know how loved and cared for they are in the mystery of God is always burning in Jesus' heart. He is always on this mis-sion. It is his very identity. Jesus' consciousness is dominated by a sense of being sent. He never stands on his own. He never comes to do his own thing. Whatever he speaks and does and is, he receives from another. The Gospel of John makes this very clear in many passages. "I do nothing on my own authority but speak simply as my Father has taught me. The one who sent me is with me now: the Father has never left me alone, for I always do what pleases him" (Jn 8:28-29). There is a clear limit to any process of self-actualization in Jesus. This clear limit does not speak of immature dependency, but rather points to a theology and spirituality of love always aflame in his heart. The receptivity involved in Jesus' experience of mission reveals the central love affair that burns at the core of his identity. Rather than passive submission to the marching orders of some distant authority, mission for Jesus always radiates a life of love with the One he calls "my dear Father." At the heart of this love affair, a mysterious abandonment burns in an identity of perpetual ado-ration. It is an adoration that sets him afire every day for his mis-sion and finally for the fearful but well-loved completion of that mission: the great Passover of his life. He does not tell his dear Fathe~ what to do. Rather, their self-abandonment in mutual love forges such a union that Jesus, aglow in the Holy Spirit, is God's mission always burning among us. Jesus: Abandonment to His "Dear Father" In this abandonment Jesus' heart is always burning true. Sometimes he shows his love by carrying out ordinary routines, while at other times he performs deeds of high drama. All disci-ples of the great mission of God must do both kinds of things in their own lives, according to the specifics of their own personal religious experience. Review for Religious In the temple at the age of twelve, Jesus speaks a word of truth: "Didn't you know I must always be where my dear Father is?''2 This truth radiates identity for the young boy, as well as for his distraught mother and foster father. While not easily under-stood, such a word invites contemplative treasuring in their hearts. It not only cannot be contradicted, but it allur-ingly presages a mysterious future. Years later this word has become so clear in his heart as to call him away from his beloved home and mother. An urgency beckons him, an urgency to go to his cousin, the Baptizer, at the Jordan. There the fire flames forth in an enor-mously special way. A religious experience, always alive in his heart, flashes forth in a dramatic moment. A love beyond words and imagining; a Son so specially beloved and pleasing; a servant uniquely chosen for mission--in such a moment the abandonment of his life to his dear Father is so very obvious and very right. He knows that this fire in his heart has not been set by himself, but by a dear Father's loving Spirit. The original temple-word, now a clearly recognized relationship with a dear Father beloved beyond limit, becomes a guiding light all through his busy life in the midst of the people. Always he is one called and sent into the mission of every day. This special inner consciousness keeps the fire of loving aban-donment zealously aglow, ~in his heart. "I have come to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were blazing already!" (Lk 12:49). This inner fire burns finally into the completion of his bap-tism. "There is a baptism I must still receive, and how great is my distress till it is over!" (Lk 12:50). The growing paschal ful-fillment of that temple-word brings him into the great mission-ary climax of his life.-It is high drama. A mission of love plays itself out on the stage of his troubled heart, and the audience stretches into the fullness of time. In an olive grove his aware-ness that "everything is possible for you, dear Father" raises a puzzling possibility: "Take this cup away from me." But, beyond the fear and questioning of his mind, in the deepest adoring still-ness of his heart, that fire of self-abandonment faithfully burns and enlivens: "But let it be as you, not I, would have it!" This chosen servant, so much the delight of God, brings the whole mission of his life to unending fullness in the climactic Mission for Jesus always radiates a life of love with the One he calls "my dear Father." 2~lay-37~ne 1996 Aschenbrenner ¯ Abandonment That Enlivens challenge of Calvary. Though the drama and intensity of the moment is high pitch, the story is still the same: a servant aban-doning himself to the Beloved. The mission of love is now some-how complete. "It is accomplished" (Jn 19:30). "Dear Father, into your hands I give over my spirit" (Lk 23:46). Jesus, God's mission. in our midst, stripped to the simple clear essence of his identity, becomes a fire of forgiving love blazing into the fullness of time. Disciples: Sent for Missidn This enlivening fire for mission in Jesus is meant to deter-mine the missionary lives of all his disciples. A great desire for mission and evangelization sends disciples all over the world. This evangelization must always be fueled by an urgency of desire that more and more people taste the joy, freedom, and union of God's deeply personal love in Jesus, a reconciling love in which we all live and move and have our being. Disciples always bring an aston-ishing wealth of gifts, training, and experience to this mission of evangelization. This is marvelous. The cooperation and blend-ing of all these talents in any particular operation, however, is not always easy. At the heart of this sense of mission must always be the same profound identifying attitude of Jesus. An eager, ready abandon-ment in love stokes the heart's coals for the fire of mission. Such missionary eagerness comes from a burning desire to be sent, This fire for mission involves a profound attitude in faith that becomes visible in the results of an appropriate ministerial place-ment process. Daily discipleship in the great mission of Jesus always requires the stance of radical abandonment that identifies Jesus in his love affair with his dear Father. Various dangers today threaten the faith attitude and reli-gious experience needed if we are to share Jesus' burning sense of mission. In recent years many congregations have borrowed ter-minology from corporate management and social psychology to name roles played in the community's organization and struc-ture. 3 While there surely is some value in this, we must be care-ful~ of the significance of our language. Language often has an effect on us that is not immediately evident, It can .talk us into or out of certain attitudes, almost without our noticing. If we slip out of the profound faith perspective described in this article, a prophetic vision easily becomes ideological, and fire for mission Review for Religious becomes political competition. We must be careful that our words do not distract us from the realm of profound faith where the dynamics of life and love are often quite different from those of our secular society. An age still strongly individualistic, therapeutic, and security conscious keeps the focus on self and taking care of self. In ways insidiously subliminal or at least not obvious, this spirit can lead to an assertiveness that resists the abandonment that sets a person afire for mission. Especially when this therapeutic spirit seems very convincing, the dynamic of "sending oneself" can quench the red-hot coals of missionary abandonment. Such self-sending is easily justified in the heady winds of assertiveness and individ-ualism. Such self-sending often makes a person blind to any par-ticipation in the corporate vision; it blocks genuine community mediation and can even manipulate it. Such an attitude and prac-tice ~threatens our sharing in Jesus' sense of mission. The issue finally is always the same: The self-abandonment that enlivens and sets the heart on fire is itself being abandoned. An Abandonment to Whom? The abandonment described here must be an interpersonal experience of love. Though we may pledge allegiance to a flag, we can abandon ourselves only to some person who loves us. Then, when the beauty of the beloved is magnetic enough, the aban-donment becomes practically unavoidable. 'No mere cause, how-ever noble and (xciting, can affect us in this way, can move us as profound interpersonal love, engagement, and abandonment of self can. The abafidonment beyond self that participates in God's mis~- sion in Jesus always includes four loves or four ways of loving. First and foremost, we abandon ourselves into the loving hands of God. This falling 6ut of control can never be forced or strongly willed on our own. We can only be lured and seduced to it by the astonishing beauty of God's love in the fidelity of Jesus. For someone who does not feel the magnetism of that love, the aban-donment so central to this article not only will be almost unin-telligible, but will also be altogether impossible. The person may even repel any such suggestion. The continuing struggle in active apostolic congregations to integrate mission and consecration is relevant here. A certain consecration to, with, and in God is nec- May-June 1996 Ascbenbrenner ¯ Abandonment That Enlivens Our hearts' desires and attentions must not focus on ourselves, but on needy people of the world. essary if mission endeavors--even fervently "prophetic" ones-- are to become more than just efficient social work. In other words, the proper integration of consecration and mission can take place only in the actual experience of abandoning ourselves to God's love so radiantly.inviting in Jesus. Second, fire for mission also involves an abandonment in com-passionate sensitivity to all sorts of needy people in our world. No impersonal cause, however rabidly espoused, will suffice. A specification and personalization of the great needs throughout our universe invites the missionary abandonment described in this article. For this aspect of the abandonment to have strong effect today, certain countercultural developments are needed. Our hearts' desires and attentions must not focus on ourselves, but on needy people of the world. This calls for gener-ous abandonment. The charism of each congre-gation must help its members to see needs in the world and then to set priorities. The charism must be alive in their hearts so that they actually address some specific needs of today, rather than simply embrace a vague universalism. A charism that is trying to do everything runs the danger finally of accomplishing nothing. Third, abandoning myself to the community of brothers or sisters who share the same religious consecration implies a belief that our corporate good is much more important than my own individual good. Community here must be, not some idealized reality, but the real people of the here and now. This aspect of abandonment for mission does not make light of my own good, but presumes the pervasive corporate identity whereby my own sense of self cannot be conceived apart from our shared life and mission together. The central energizin, g concern is we, not me. Once again, as mentioned earlier, corporate ministerial impact is what mission is about, not a scatter-shot effect of talented pro-fessional individuals. This corporate identity is not easily attained in an age of therapeutic individualism. It continues to be a major issue in religious formation today, and it must be resolved suffi-ciendy at the time of profession if candidates and communities are to have a future together. Fourth, the abandonment we are discussing will always some-how involve human mediators who specify, clarify, and incarnate Review for Religions God's loving authority in Jesus for mission. Whether these medi-ators are friends, a spiritual director, a leadership team, a provin-cial, the bishop, or the people with whom I live, mission can never be simply a matter of myself and God. The dialogue and dis-cernment stretch beyond individual limitations. Each member's discernment always assumes great importance, but is never the ultimate determining factor in the decision. In many situations human mediation is precisely the point of struggle and disagree-ment among us. Some of this struggle is an understandable reac-tion to excessively authoritarian practices of mediation in the past, but not all of it is so easily explained. Some of this reaction needs to be explored and challenged. Without settling for vague gen-eralities at this point, I want to describe some specific develop-ments in the riext section without, however, resorting to overly definitive, rigid uniformities. This brings us to the role of religious government in fostering a congregation's fire for mission. Role of Religious Government for Mission Models of religious government have gone through an enor-mous transformation since Vatican II. The diversity of develop-ment between men's and women's congregations has been striking. As we become sensitive to the enriching differences of the femi-nine and the masculine, this diversity of development is expected and is perhaps long overdue after many years in which women religious were forced into structures and models originally cre-ated for men. But some further questions surface at this point. Should the governmental models in congregations of women and men be so different? Along with some diversity that all seem happy to allow for, should there not be more similarity in the role of authority and the practice of obedience within men's and women's congregations? How do we recognize and maintain, both for women and men, a continuity of development with the past.in this area of religious authority and obedience? (Such continuity, though not easily recognized at certain junctures in the development, is always a sign of the guidance of the Holy.Spirit.) These questions are not easily answered, and I hope that together we will deal hon-esdy with them for some time. It is too easy a resolution simply to say: that is the masculine way and this is the feminine way. It is my hope that the diversity in thi.s area between the practice of men and women will be mutually challenging and enriching. May-June 1996 Aschenbrenner ¯ Abandonment That Enlivens To give authority to someone utterly without the charism of leadership will usuall not promote the corporate ministerial impact of a con regation, o A movement awayofrom hierarchical models has character-ized ma.ny congregational leadership arrangements since Vatican II. This movement was not so clearly called for in the cohncil's Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life; espe-cially in its treatment of obedience.4 Throughout all the docu-ments of the council, we can clearly find glimpses of a new "vision for the people of God that would legitimate in the Spirit-some of this movement away from a thoroughly hierarchical model. But, withgut' doubt, other waves of influence gathering force over the last thirty years have been churned up and driven along by secular winds. Strong'democratic and egalitarian presumptions have been hard at work deconstru4dng most models of ¯ authority and government. And, once tidal-wave proportions have been reached, it is hard to be concerned about nuance and degree of development and chan~e. The Ignatian model is an interesting.~xample. The original Ignatian concePtion of authority and obedience for mission was strongly hierarchical and centralized. It was this strong centralized model, of authority that made both internal cohesiveness and widespread external ministry possible. Some would view this Ignatian model as the beginning of active religious life in the ~'modern world,s Congregations of women and men claiming Ignatian 'influence and roots in their founding interpret this in quite different ways today, howe~,er much they have or have not thought through and discussed the matter. A triangular model of authority as flowing down from the pinnacle has given way to a model of much more mutual and shared responsibility. We are rediscovering the authority in each mature believing person. When well informed by the Holy Spirit and well in touch with God's people as a whole, each person is able to "author forth" as part-of God's mission of love among us. But is this individualized, egalitarian authority enough for the mis-sion of religious life in the future? If we simply let the recent decentralizing development have its way, will the. proper under-standing and practice of authority for mission just naturally emerge? I think not, Such a development implies too ethereal a Review Jbr Religious view of the Holy Spirit, as though not inviting the cooperative ohard work of human minds and hearts. Authority's triangle can-not simply be exchanged, in my opinion, for a circle composed of brothers and sisters of completely equal authority. A Model of Concentric Circles To properly integrate mission, community, authority, and obe, dience, I suggest another model for religious institutes: concen-tric circles. In the centermost circle is God revealed in Jesus with a very special authority. In the next circle are the founders and foundresses with their charismatic vision and that vision's con-tinuous development. In the next few circles would be individu-als or teams on the general or local levels who possess an authority for unity and mission beyond that of all the other members. This special authority is received both from God and from all the mem-bers through the group's ecclesially approved process of choice. This distinctive authority does not finally s~t these people off from the rest of the members. As a matter of fact, it will have effect only as contextualized within, the community of all the brothers and sisters. The people exercising such special authority are sisters and brothers to. us all. This is precisely why these cen-tral circles are placed concentrically within the largest circle, which contains all the members gathered as brothers or sisters in the one congregation. In the concentric model it is important to distinguish, but not separate, authority, leadership, and obedience.6 Authority is a canonical, juridical office of power rooted in God, not in the chancery or some Vatican office. This is a power about other per-sons for.ministry. Leadership, on the other hand, is a charism of influence and inspiration over other people. This latter cannot be legalized and institutionalized. Not everyone has this charism. Though the juridical office of authority and the personal charism of leadership can and should be distinguished, we must always work hard to keep the two in a proper balance of relationship. To give authority to someone utterly without the charism of lead-ership will usually not promote the corporate ministerial impact of a congregation. To confuse this distinction and the operative government-model in a congregation will always have its cor-rupting effect on the unity of the membership and on its shared fire for mission. That lines of authority be clear regarding who May-~nne 1996 Aschenbrenner ¯ Abandonment That Enlivens exercises it and for what object is not a finicky concern for tidi-ness, but rather a strong desire for spreading fire effectively in the mission of God's love. If authority and leadership must stay in relationship, the same is true of authority and obedience. They form an essential mutual relationship. One cannot stand without the other. While author-ity invites the mature obedience of careful listening, so too must it be sensitive in careful listening to the membership's calling forth healthy mature exercise of authority. Each calls forth the other in a vitality and interrelationship always focused on greater unity.and fire for mission. The decentralizing trend in religious congregations since Vatican II has affected this interrelationship of authority, leader-ship, and obedience. It has thereby also affected the structure, appearance, and sense of belonging in many congregations: But, as we keep relating this decentralization to two other corporate values (membership and ministry) and not allow it simply to develop a life of its" own, a couple of important questions face us. How decentralized can a group become and still preserve a cohe-sive unity and an outreaching mission? How much unrefined plu-ralism can a group tolerate without losing its unity and identity? These questions not only nag at religious groups, but also affect secular organizations and are not susceptible to pat or easy answers. However, dealing with them is crucial because it keeps this decentralizing tendency in relationship with the foursome (mission, community, authority, and obedience) that provides (as this article argues) the central stability and identity of any religious congregation. One of the dangers today is that this decentralizing spirit may assume a solitary dominating influence. Religious authority, then, as exercised in the concentric gov-ernmental structure presented here, serves two major important purposes. In the first place, this authority fosters clarity and energy about the mission of God in Jesus for us here and now. Decisions are made, not simply according to individual preferences and seri- 6us individual discernments, but in light of a congregation's charis-matic identity as that has developed over years to a contemporary specification. Authority thus exercises a preserving role regarding the congregation's present specification of its identity in the mis-sion of God in Jesus. Rather than having a stifling effect, these mediators in the exercise of authority foster: fire for mission and are servants of the faithful continuity of the congregation's Review for Religious charism. Of course, they could never serve this special role with-out the energetic cooperation of us all. In the second place, this authority is especially related to the corporate unity of the group. Just as God's authority is never meant to be an oppressive ,burden, but serves toward the uplifting unity of the whole human family, so this religious authority is a unique service for love in the unity and mission of the congregation. Mediators of this authority, therefore, are special servants of the group's unity in love. Without careful, clear exercise of authority and obedience, a congrega-tion's experienced unity gets ragged and its fire for mission dims. Results of Healthy Integration The proper interrelationship of mission, community, author-ity, and obedience produces four healthy results. First, ministry is always seen as rooted in and flowing out of the Trinity. Neither empty theory nor impractic.al idealism, this profound spiritual theology must ground and animate all ministry in the church. Ministry is really God's work and not some project that we, are in sole charge of and that belongs completely to us. This vision of bedrock faith has very practical implications. The second result is one of these practical implications. This Trinitarian vision of ministry keeps in check the serious danger of finding our very identity in the ministry. To succumb to the dan-ger and identify ourselves in what we do is always to stunt the richness and profundity of our person. This is even more serious in terms of our identity in Christ. Whether consciously or uncon-sciously, letting our very identity--who we are in Christ~--be con-sumed by our hands-on daily work has serious repercussi6ns. Our view of self becomes superficial and overly pragmatic; we stub-bornly cling for dear life to our ministry. The religious experi-ence of taking genuine risks because of our reliance on God's promise in Jesus shrinks. Moreover, the physical decline of old age can bring deep frustration after many years of busy activity if we have allowed those years to teach us by osmosis this faulty maxim: The harder we work, the holier we become. As disciples called by Christ and, saved in Christ, our identity is given; it is revealed, not earned, not merited. "It is, remember, by grace and not by achievement that you are saved . It was nothing you could ordid achieve--it was God's gift of grace which saved you" (Ep 2:6, 8). May-June 1996 Ascbenbrenner ¯ Abandonment That Enlivens Jesus' death on the cross is our hope, our salvation. He is our identity beyond all others. In this greatest act of love, we find an identity so deeply rooted in God that we can be surprised; sur-prised by a ministerial availability beyond limits we had mistak-enly imposed, surprised by a ministerial effectiveness beyond our careful planning, and surprised by an experience of aging that invites an. intimacy with Jesus beyond expectation. Once again the central point of this article stands clear: Jesus' abandonment on the cross attracts us and unites us in a similar abandonment that is the core of all ministry. As a third result, when mission, community, authority, and obedience are meshing in the proper way, an invigorated sense of membership pervades the congregation. Members do not feel competitively alienated from one another in seeking, finding, and carrying out employment. Members, rather, feel part of a reality much. bigger than themselves because their individual placement in ministry somehow really involves the entire community. Their daily ministry is part of the community's whole commitment to mission, extending far beyond individual preference into the enor-mous venture of God's mission of love in Jesus for the transfor-mation of the whole universe. As a fourth result, the proper implementation of the four-some described in this article enables a congregation to pool its resources, especially financial ones, and respond to some extremely critical contemporary needs even when the work is not recom-pensed by a living wage or any salary at all. A corporate commit-ment can overcome the limiting of ministries only to those that individual members find adequate to support themselves. In this way availability for minisu'y is stretched beyond the limits of indi-vidual preference, individual job search, and individual income. In conclusion, the church throughout the world,-and espe-cially in North America, faces the tremendous missionary chal-lenge of a civil society becoming more and more secularistic, more permeated with a practical atheism. In the face of such a challenge, fear would distract our gaze and corrupt our courage. All of the church's members must respond courageously. But we religious, from the vantage point of our celibate, simple lifestyle, should be able t6 gaze and~listen together in a specially sensitive and enlightened way, always eager fo~ a self-abandonment that will enliven, not dehumanize, us and will set us on fire for mission way beyond the individual likes and dislikes. The fire of this self- Review for Religious abandonment will constantly remind us, and everybody, that God is at the heart of it all and that God's love in Jesus is the real work being done and to be done. Notes l See George Aschenbrenner sJ, "Active and Monastic: Two Apostolic Lifestyles," Review for Religious 45, no. 5 (September-October 1986): 653-668. 2 This is a tra~nslation of Luke 2:49 suggested by the Jesuit scripture scholar Father David Stanley in a retreat given in 1967. 3 See Ma~y Linscott SND, "The Service of Religious Authority: Reflections on Government in the Revision of Constitutions," Review for Religious 42, no. 2 (March-April 1983): 212-213. 4 Most commentators on the document notice an ambiguity within a variety of positions due to the conflicting views represented in the body 6f the council and in the commission responsible for Perfectae caritatis. See Commentary on the Documents of Vatican 11, vol. 2 (New York: Herder and Herder, 1968), pp. 301-370. s See David Knowles, From Pachqmius to Ignatius (Ox,ford: C_larendon, 1966), pp. 61-68. 6 See Mary Linscott SND, "Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government," Review for Religious 52, no. 2 (March-April 1993): 166- 193. Composition of Place With consistency, theocean disarms life's taut livery. Before the vasL I let it, like a magnet, draw away heavy-metaled worry that cages me unfree. In its place I embrac~e the gossamer interlace of sun and s,ky and foam, fit garment for a psalm by the side of the sea with ;the waves' response in holy antiphony. Anna Marie Mack SSJ May-if:tote 1996 JUDITH A. MERKLE Gathering the Fragments: New Times for Obedience an Matthew's Gospel we visit a scene with which we are all miliar, the multiplication of the loaves and fishes. Jesus, upset over the death of John the Baptist, withdraws to a quiet place. The disciples and the crowds follow him. The sick come and he heals them, even though he is filled with a sense of loss. It becomes evident the people are without sufficient food. Through strengthening the faith of the disciples, Jesus not only heals the sick but even feeds those who journeyed with him to this out-of-the- way place. At the end of the meal, the apostles gather the fragments from the feast and then continue to journey with Jesus. We too have journeyed with Jesus to what some would call an out-of-the-way place. Over the last thirty years, we as religious have set out in search of Jesus. As Perfectae caritatis states, "the religious life is intended above all else to lead those who embrace it to an imitation of Christ and to union with God" (§2). We have found Christ in prayer, in the poor, in our classrooms and emer-gency wards, on planes to Africa, and in AIDS clinics in our urban areas. We have sought union with God in the reforms of Vatican II, in the retreat movement, marching with farm workers, or pro-viding support to the elderly. We find ourselves in a new place, still seeking to listen to his word. We too have our sick with us, and we have our concerns for them. We too wonder if we have brought enough food for the Judith A. Merkle SNDdeN is in the Religious Studies Department at Niagara University. She is the author of Committed by Choice (1992) and a forthcoming book on religious life, cultural crisis, and the vows. Her address is: P.O. Box 1869; Niagara University, New York 14109. Review for Religious journey. We seek food from Jesus for these next steps of renewal, while at the same time knowing that a world on the cusp of a mil-lennium seeks new food from us. We too, like the people on the hillside, are at the end of a divine banquet. Historically we have witnessed in 19th-centnry religious life a multiplication of the loaves and fishes. In its insti-tutions, its way of organizing religious living, its powerful con-tribution to the church, and its marvelous growth, we have seen something unparalleled in church history since the 13th century. , Today we are left with only the fragments of 19th-century religious life; the fragments of the institutions they founded, the fragments of the way of life they constructed to express religious life, the fragments of their spirituality and beliefs. We can no longer go back and re-create the world they once built, and nei-ther the quality and extent of the next divine banquet nor our part in it is clear to us. There is, however, a choice before us today. We can sit on the hillside and tell stories of a wondrous event, of a former way of living religious life, remembering with nostalgia that brief moment of grandeur when God so touched our lives. We can allow our companionship to cover up our hopelessness about the times ever again being right for such a visitation. Or we can hold the fragments in our hands and ask what revelation they may hold for 'us. Why did God leave us with these fragments? Why must the disciples gather them up? As people living on fragments, we must ask, too, what the people did the day after the banquet. How did they continue their journey of faith? We know they did continue it because today we can gather in Jesus' name and we remain a people who live in this mystery. Let us, then, hold these fragments in our hands and pon-der the pain and promise in them. We will be examining expressly the vow of obedience and how, in the context of our times, it takes on new meaning. We will first discuss how religious share in the cultural crisis in our society at large, and in this way we will speak to the pain these fragments hold. Second, we will focus on obedience as affective bonding and on the life process which this involves. Here we will take heed of the promise which religious living holds in our cul-ture as we face issues of morfil decline, fragmentation, and drift. I would like to explore with you the challenge this call presents personally, congregationally, and eccle~ially. May-3~ne 1996 Merkle ¯ Gathering the Fragments What is obedience in a social context where the rules have changed from a premodern to a modern to a postmodern mindset in a thirty-year period ? The New Situation We sha~e with others in the Western world in a new situation. of our lives. A recent book makes it clear that the United States society currently lives from moral fragments and community frag-ments only. Ours is a time of moral breakdowns, moral hope-lessness, and drift. We have looked to both economic progress and government to provide a quality life for all, but we realize more and more in the 1990s that there is nothing more important to our lives together than the regeneration that moral community can provide,l ~ Hearing this analysis as religious, we know that the moral drift in the wider cul-ture has touched us also. Thirty years ago Perfectae caritatis launched us on a path of renewal with these words: "The more ardently religious unite themselves to Christ through a self-surrender involving their entire lives~ the more vigorous becomes, the life of the church and the more abundantly .her apostolate bears fruit" (§1). But what is the shape of this self-surrender in a culture living on frag- .ments, where cultural wisdom says to find some corner of the world where your needs are met and stay there, avoiding life's larger questions and the needs of one's neigh-bor? 2 What is obedience in a social context where the rules have changed from a premodern to a modern to a postmodern mind-set in a thirty-year period? Before Vatican II, it could be argued, religious life shared many of the characteristics of premodern life. Community was based largely on a shared geography, kinship, ethnicity, and the particular territorial identity created by the institutions of 19th-century' religious life. The cloister provided a world apart, within a modern world. Vatican II brought the modern world into the cloister, and with it the emancipation, .freethinking, open future, and promise of progress that are chariacteristic of modernity.3 Religious entered into a world organized by mobility of money and work. The old institutions and the clear but at times static thinking they repre-sented gave way to the new. We welcomed this change. New Review for Religious beliefs gave moral and social coherence to our lives. Personal freedom, using one's gifts in ministry, freedom of conscience, per-sonal' development, renewed social commitment, and political reform came to the forefront Community and Identity In this rapidly changing situation, however, the type of local community which taught the virtues, values, obligations, and iden-tity of our congregations was harder to maintain. We sought to enlarge our concept of community with a greater sense of our province community and with various new forms of government at the congregational level. We argued over government, but found ourselves really arguing over community and how we belonged as we experienced growing pluralism among us. We knew that a common checkbook was not enough of a unifier in our growing diversity. But at times we imitated a culture which turned to the market and government as unifiers in the absence of weak-ening moral community.4 But we felt the incompleteness of it all. Community became largely intentional on a small scale, yet broadened to the world at the level of association and conscious-ness. In the mobility of life, community became too transitory for many and at times only an enclave of privacy,s The change brought good and bad, yet this transition has not been complete. As we discern the new times for our vow of obedience, we grabble today for a sense of identity, not just before others but among ourselves. We struggle with the identification of the lim-its of our way of life and with' questions about the appropriate moral ways of dealing with them. For moral discourse always implies boundaries and limits the stuff of community. In this we share in the moral drift of the wider culture where also there has been a weakening of centers of moral formation: family, church, community. Postmodern Challenge We have difficulty, too, with public conversations about our identity as religious because we find, unlike thirty years ago, that words such as church, sacrament, authority, and celibacy do not always have a common core of meaning among us. Years ago we argued about progressive and conservative viewpoints, but we shared a core of meaning. Today our cofiversations reveal vast differences of meaning among us. May-dTune 1996 Merkle ¯ Gathering the Fragments This flows from our being in a culture that lacks a broad interpretative metaphor to explain the order and meaning of the world. Beyond this lack, the uncertainty of any knowledge is widely held. The meaning of any idea is constandy in flux, and no one meaning or interpretation has any authority over another. Since people believe that one cannot know the truth, they think of "truth" as merely the momentary victor among ideas vying with one another for popular acceptance. Criticism of any and all ideas goes on and on. This is a brief description of what authors term postmodernism.6 It is also a description of where some reli-gious locate themselves. We also find a weakening in our skills for envisioning and pursuing the common good together. In a more static society, one cannot opt out of the common good, for one's own enter-tainable options are out of the question if they infringe those of another, and vice versa. In a mobile society, where community is an experience rather than a place, this face-to-face existence is weakened and along with it the ability of a group to reinforce behavior that moves beyond self-interest. We experience this in our difficulty in addressing the responsibilities and benefits of membership. ,4 Situation of Moral Hazard Charles Wilber, the economist, claims that our modern way of living separates us from one another and creates "imperfect knowledge" of one another. This in turn breaks down trust and can place us in a situation of "moral hazard." While Wilber's anal-ysis focuses on industry, I suggest that it provides a window on our experience as religious.7 A moral hazard occurs in situations where people are affected by one another's behavior. A situation is termed a moral hazard when a low trust level causes people to engage in self-defeating behaviors. An example is the distrust that can occur between an employer and employee. The employer fears that the employee is not doing her job. The employee fears that the employer will require too much work or will fire her if given the chance. In response the employee begins to withdraw and shirk her job. To remedy the situation, the employer supervises more to stop the expected laziness. If the employee could self-supervise, work would be more efficient and the company would profit. Instead, what results is a Review Jbr Religions situation where each, the employer and the employee, pursues his or her self-interest. Other individuals working in the situa-tion can observe troublesomeness growing, but no one individual can do anything about it. It becomes a climate, and a self-defeat-ing one. The result is that all individuals are worse off and the group is worse off than if they had been able to work together. Why is it so difficult in such a situation to cooperate?s Because exit is cheap and voice is expensive. Exit means to withdraw, to drop out of the conversation that would be needed to come up with a solution which serves each individual's interest and the group's interest as well. The ability to exit is facilitated by "room to move," the very meaning of a "mobile" society. Voice, on the other hand, involves the communication of one's concern to another and the willingness to work out a solution. The cost to individuals to do this often exceeds the benefits they might hope to receive. Hence, one of the two persons at odds exits. The situation of moral hazard has parallels in religious life 'today. The fragments of an earlier religious lifestyle that we live with include problematic questions about membership and the possibility of group action. We need group decision more than ever before because our problems cannot be solved by individu-als, yet our lifestyle is such that to take up the challenge of voice instead of exit is getting more and more "expensive" emotionally, spiritually, and personally. Obedience in These Times These are new times for obedience. Today the practice of obedience has to be linked to a common consciousness of one's interdependence with others, self-restraint based on a gospel life, and institutional reinforcement of those values that constrain self-interested behavior and build common meaning out of a plural-ity of experiences. Those in leadership know that government can regulate only what people allow to be regulated. Money and government are inadequate unifiers unless there is a moral com-munity based on these beliefs. Researchers today point to "affiliative decline" among reli-gious. They charge that religious lack a sense of purpose based on a belief in the meaning and viability of their way of life. This breeds a sense of disaffection or alienation. The researchers believe that congregations will decline if members have no stronger reason to remain than mere bonding.9 May-June 1996 Merkle ¯ Gathering the Fragments For these reasons the reclaiming of obedience today has to address issues of meaning and common commitment in a situation of pluralism. It has to further outline the path by which religious and their congregations bond the real people who are their mem-bers in the diverse situations in which they live, by shared com-mitment to and reinforcement of the values which give meaning to their lives and direction to their congregational ministry. Our language of obedience has to touch,the process by which we learn to participate--because we want to, as an affair of the heart~-in the life and mission of our congregation. We obey in the '90s:like religious before us, in imitation of Jesus, who obeyed his heavenly Father because he wanted to, out of love. He defined his whole life by this pursuit. Postmode~m means that the systems of the modern age are no longer workable. Progress, freedom of choice, and open bound-aries have not necessarily brought quality of life. We realize today that some of the systems we created in renewal are defective. We, like others in our culture, are searching for meaning, spirit, and moral direction and for new structures, policies, and organiza-tion to unify our communities. Questioning these new times of ours for obedience, there-fore, has consequences for congregational and ecclesial regener-ation as well. There is no obedience without mutuality. As we turn to obedience as affective bonding, the perspectives we gain will have ramifications for congregational response and ecclesial life. I will suggest a few of these ramifications. Obedience as Affective Bonding Obedience of the mind, or cognitive growth in one's knowl-edge of the church and the Christian mysteries, is easier to define than the path of affective bonding which the vow of obedience pri-marily involves.I° Cognitive growth can be measured by assimila-tion of important information. Formation programs, courses of study, and catechetical syllabi can put information about the church and Christian life and one's congregational spirit into a sequence of increasing complexity and hierarchy of importance. Such order-ing allows for proper intellectual formation of a religious. Affective bonding takes longer, is harder to measure, and is difficult to chart. The goal of affective learning is for persons to act as they do because it is in itself satisfying to them. Educational Review for Religious literature offers mbdels to help people reflect on the components of affective learning and bonding.To the degree that growth in obedience is a path of affective learning and bonding with God, with one's community, and with the mission of the church, :reflec-tion on such components or Stages of affective bonding can reveal important aspects of obedience today. The stages we discuss will be termed receiving, responding, valu-ing, prioritizing, and communal charac-ter/ characterization.11 Looking at them one at a time will make their meaning .and relevance clear. Receiving Obedience begins with receiving, becoming conscious of, a vocation and having a willingness to attend to people and events associated with it. All voca-tions begin with a connection: to a men-tor, to a person in a certain apostolate, to a chance advertisement, to a casual remark. Obedience begins here, long before a vow is taken. If there is any decision, it is to remain open to the sub-ject of a religious vocation. At this point there is usually no decision about the merit of the call itself. A per-son is invited to move in this stage from a consciousness of a vocation, to a willingness to receive, to a decision to give mat-ters concerning a vocation some careful attention despite com-peting choices or distractions. While receiving is a stage in obedience, it is also a recurring theme. All through religious life, there are new occasions to revisit this grace of obedience. A new member of cdmmunity is waiting to be received or a new program is being launched. New leader-ship, maybe not of one's own choosing, needs to be accepted. An intervention regarding health, retirement, or change in ministry needs to be examined. Can we even consider it? Can we receive this into our lives? Inability or refusal to "receive" one's congregational reality into one's life causes disaffection. Disaffection here is understood as an alienation from something which is important to our whole-ness or completion)2 When we make a vow of obedience, we say Our language of obedience has to touch the process by which we learn to participatem because we want to, as an affair of the heartm in the !ife and mission of our congregation. May-~une 1996 Merkle ¯ Gathering the Fragments we want our relationship with Jesus to happen within the con-text of this community in the church. Disaffection occurs because we are not in harmony with something which we have chosen as a life-giving relationship. Like the rich young man, we feel the sadness this creates. Congregational mail is not read, a change of ministry is never considered. Persons in authority are rejected before they act. We are living within a congregation, but not receivi ~ng it in our lives. Since obedience has ramifications for the bonding of the com-munity and its effectiveness in mission, disaffection at the. level of receiving can be contagious and can create a negative climate in a local community or a province. Congregational. Disaffection can also be caused by the inabil-ity of the congregation to receive the members. Whom do we receive today? Are we in a posture to receive new members? Do we receive our own present members, or do ageism, racism, and ideological battles cut us off from one another before we begin? Do we know how "they" think before they speak? Do we turn people off?. How do those of us in international orders receive members of cultures not our own? How do these things affect our bonding and our future? While we complain that members have "dropped out" of our congregations, how large is our own circle of inclusion? Ecclesial. In the 19th century the juridical mentality of the church regarding religious life was one of enclosure. To be a reli-gious meant to be "removed" from the world. The new congre-gations forming, however, were different from what canon law described. Hence, they required a new mentality to give them birth ecclesially. The church had to receive something with which it was not familiar. We find that new congregations of simple vows were formed over a period of a hundred years, while the main body of canon laws officially recognized as "religious" only the traditional, enclosed style of religious life.~3 A more radical dia-logue between religious life and the society produced, not the death of religious life, but a newness in its expression and form. The church had an important role in fostering this newness. What today needs to be received to allow this tradition to continue? Responding The next step in affective bonding is a response beyond mere attending to a call or invitation. In response a person does some- Review for Religious thing with, in, or,about the call, besides merely perceivin~ it~ Our first response to the call ofour vocation was to enter, to promise we would give our vocation a try. 0 Responding can begin passively as compliance and later .become voluntary. When persons begin religious life, they often do things they areasked even though the purpose of them may not seem evident at the time. Many would tell of judging early adjust-ments as "what is involved" and going along with what was asked. In order to take on the story of the community and its way of life, such a response is required. When response becomes volun-tary, an emotional response of pleasure or enjoyment occurs. .Responding to people, events, and matters of one's community is accompanied by a feeling of satisfaction. It is obvious that responding is an ongoing element in the obedience of the religious. What marks its distinctiveness is the passage from compliance to voluntary action. Compliance is a valuable obedient response .to many requests in religious life. However, it is only through voluntary action that affective bond-ing moves beyond the fragile link of compliance. The satisfac-tion that comes from voluntary'action is the free blending of the hearts and the wills, which is of the essence of obedience as affec-tive bonding. Compliance is only the handmaiden of voluntary action. Disaffection can occur at the level of responding when a per-son cannot move from compliance to voluntary action. Religious slip .if, fearing enforcement or fearing that lack of any response at all would invite emotional sanctions from. their peers, .they do only what they have to do. Disaffection sets in because in this state the religious are bereft of the normal emotional satisfaction that should come from voluntary participation in the life and mis-sion of their congregations. Congregational. The need to create meaningful avenues bf response' is key to growth in a congregation. Withdrawal breeds lack of emotional involvement, and lack of emotional involve-ment breeds withdrawal. Research claims that altruism in a group actually atrophies when it is not called forth.~4 The resources of love in a group are not fixed or limited; rather these moral resources respond positively to practice, to learning by doing, and negatively to nonpractice. This is not to recommend mak-ing~ exaggerated demands, but only to.re'commend that the group do some stretching. May-~tne 1996 Merkle ¯ Gathering the Fragments ~'Ecclesial. The 19th century was'a ,tirfie of new needs. The tur-moil of the Industrial Revolution called ~eligious. from the clois-ter to active involvement in collective, works :of'social significance: education, social services, and healthcare:The church was called to expand its geographical reach and its ministerial presence in a society which claimed its irrelevance. The times were not unlike our own. -, 'Religious, however, ~,ere .partners with the church in meeting this crisis. Many 19th-century orders had superiors general and were not directly under the authority of a local bishop. This new jurisdictional authority in the church enabled the coordination of ministerial works which were transdiocesan and which in turn established the credibility of the church in sectors where it was not previously received,t5 Response of religious to the ,church and response of the mag-isterial church to religious have to continue this tradition for the sake of both the church and religious life, for neither ~prospers in a climate of alienation. The crisis of the 19th century stimulated the creation of a n~w authoritative identity in the church. What is needed today to. strengthen the relationship between religious and the magisterial church is 'for each to view the other novas a problem but as a partner. At this valuing stage in the process of obedience, members make it clear that membership in community is worth something to them. There is enough participation in the life and mission of orie's congregation and enough identification with its way of life so that other people readily identify the members as belonging to the group, _ A later stage of valuing consists of efforts to grow as members, Opportunities for renewal and deepening are sought out. Here there 'is an actual preference for religious life and its values. One is committed by choice. There is an investment of time and energy beyogd the minimum. Members manifest a growing conviction and loyalty regarding the values of religious life and a desire to convinceothers or at~least share their own faith experience. Here the satisfaction felt earlier as pleasure is transformed into an aroused need or drive to act and grow as members of the congregation within the ~hurch and society. There is a motivation to live the life to its fullest extent. Commitment is measured by Review for Religious the extending of such dedicated living over a period of time and by renewed desire to continue. The ongoing dynamic of obedience is shown in the act of prefei'ence.One prefers the life and mission of one's congregation over other things. One willingly considers community priorities in selection of a mission. One willingly chooses to work through a difficult community situation. One faithfully stands by someone in illness in spite of its time-consuming nature. This is the dynamic of valuing. This growth enables the member not just to par~ ticipate passively in community life, but to function actively. A~ fundamental values are owned and appropriated deeply, they also can be translated into new forms and expressions~ Congregational. Conviction regarding the life and mission of the community breeds new endeavors and investment in the worth of meaningful traditions. Dispiritedness, however, grows in a con-gregational climate of doubt about the value of the group, its authenticity, and its future. There is no longer a desire to invite new members. There are no new initiatives. There is apathy and lack of commitment to act and grow as members. People have no energy for anything but super-ficial reminiscing and required presence. This is a great danger especially in a congregational culture which has relied on com-pliance and force as its bond of membership. No one individual can treat this doubt. A~ a situation of moral hazard, it requires group ac6on and leadership. Without oppor-tunitiesto move from compliance to voluntary action, religious are not likely to deepen .their valuing of their congregational life, for they know little of the emotional satisfaction that. comes from voluntary action. Many congregations today are discussing processes of "re-membering," of calling their members to reinvest in new ways that could help them overcome the apathy and fear which threat-ens them. When such a decision of valuing occurs, it leads to the more mature obedience of the next stages. Ecdesial. The effort of the Synod to study the value of religious life was for us religious a supportive moveas we seek or explore The ongoing dynamic of obedience is shown in the act of preference. One prefers the life and mission of one's congregation over other things. May-ffTtne 1996 Merkle ¯ Gathering the Fragments our meaning and role now and into the new millennium. We reli-gious need the affirmation of the church, not just passively, but to help us participate in its life actively and creatively within its own re-creation. On our part, what values does our experience rec-ognize as essential in spite of the rapid change we'have under-gone? What support do we need so that w& can translate these values into new fo~ms~and expressions? What do we need and what do we not need from the church? If we religious do not want our relationship to the magisterial church to be based on compliance and ~force, then we too have to do our communal work in taking hold of our future. Prioritiz~ ing As one matures in religious life, membership has to be inte-grated with other values: career goals, family relationships, beliefs, coping, with personal crises, new knowledge and experiences and opportunitie~. Religious have to see how life in community and in the church relates to other dimensions of their life. ~ The first step in prioritizing is a willingness to think issues through. The next step is to bring together a complex of values, possibly disparate values, into some semblance of order and mean-ing. Since renewal has brought a plethora :of experiences into a community, it is critical that the group be' able to sit and talk about .these new yearnings. This ability to talk,will help keep the bonds of~community realistic and centered in the present. For instance, communities can ask how members experience com-' munity when they live apart from the group. Religious need to .relate multicultural experiences, new ways of prayer, educational o'pportunities, changes in the church, mis-sion experience, and women's issues with their membership in religious community. This may require familiarity with new areas of church teaching or involvement in groups within or outside . the community that gr.apple with how the gospel and new per-sonal experiences impinge on one another. For instance, religious who are working through various types of addictive behaviors can learn together the meaning of a twelve-step program in their lives as religious. While this is, an affective process, a sharing of the heart, it also involves cognitive growth, new information, and the ability to generalize and engage in abstract thinking. It requires accu-rate information. In many instances it requires good theology. Review for Religious How do women's issues, church membership, and fidelity to reli-gious commitment relate? How is one a feminist and a member of the church? How does one integrate his desire for political reform and his commitment to the priesthood, which usually means he cannot hold public office? How does one uphold one's valuing of community life and yet reach out in a ministry that makes com-munity contact difficult? Prioritizing is an act of obedience. The organization of values as one prioritizes may result in their synthesis into new ways of membership and deeper investment in the church and community. It is obvious that prioritizing is a principal task in fol-lowing a mature religious lifecourse. Those who take on the hard work of prioritizing achieve a high result, that is, an internally consistent integration of membership in their congregation and church with other aspects of their lives. Congregational. VChen we look at the religious of the 19th century, we can see they did this prioritizing. They integrated religious commitment with an entirely new cul-ture of the Industrial Revolution. They influenced the culture and created a new expression of religious life. They distinguished themselves from "regular" cloistered religious life by collective works of social significance: education, social services, and health-care. In the eyes of the church, it was the leaving of the world which constituted the religious state. However, these religious were immersed in the world. How were they religious? They rejected the upward mobility of liberal society by differentiating their activity from other forms of work in the society. They were active in the society yet were removed by social position. They were "placed" by obedience in the works of their congregation. Their works were not those of the new profitable capitalist cor-porations, although there is evidence of scattered experiments with founding "Christian factories" to give the poor employment and a sense of Christian community.~6 We religious'today are called to the task of integrating our charism with the new situation of our culture. We still struggle with how we have left the world yet are immersed in it as a place of revelation and service. This struggle to achieve a balanced understanding will overcome the feeling of powerlessness, isola-tion, and frustration in the face of a vast and complex future. Prioritizing is an act of obedience. May-Jvtne 1996 Merkle ¯ Gathering the Fragments Those who avoid prioritizing see the choice of religious as between embracing everyday secular life as they know it and going back to a pre-Vatican life based on a religious worldview that no longer communicates, This all-or-nothing viewpoint eliminates the possibility of synthesis between the real world of everyday life and the transcendent one which prioritizing calls forth. Ecclesial. For this prioritizing to occur, there has to be a cli-mate in the church in which one can safely explore new avenues of thought and living, engaging in critical reflection and respectful dissent until the value and relationship of new ideas to the mysteries of the Christian life is.evident. Today something is perceived as credible, not just because the church says it, but because it makes human sense. Religious need to be involved in helping the church make sense to the world and the world make sense to the church. Needed church reforms such as giving women more .decision-mak-ing power cannot be ignored by religious orders if they hope at the same time to promote the credibility of the church in first-world society; nor can economic, social, and political reforms be supported only halfheartedly in poverty situations in both the first and third worlds. These corporate stances of prioritizing mark the communal path of obedience within a congregation. Communal Character/Characterization At this stage of obedience, the values of membership in their congregation have a place in the individual members' lives. The values are organized into some kind of internally consistent sys-tem and have controlled the behavior of the individual members for enough time that they are now readily seen as persons who have adopted "living the life" of the congregation. It is impor-tant to note that such a stage of obedience does not come until members have had to prioritize, that is, integrate the new dis-coveries of their gei~eration with the gospel and the founding charism. There is no "cheap grace" in religious life, and one gen-eration cannot hand on to another a ready-made commitment. At this stage of characterization, issues surrounding mem-bership no longer arofise emotion or affect except when the indi-vidual is threatened or challenged. By now .the members are described and characterized as individual persons by their iden-tification with the congregation. It has been integrated into their entire philosophy of life or worldview. To an outsider, identification with the congregation is so clear Review for Religious that it makes individual members predictable and comprehensible. The values of the community are important determiners of the way the various members approach a problem, determining what they will see as important in it. In other words, the living charism becomes a principle of ongoing and daily discernment and opens the religious to the full call of the gospel. The values of the charism will limit the things that members will take into account in attempting to find a solution .to a prob-lem. They provide a focus and an identity. They will al

Issue 51.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1992. ; Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living NOVEMBER-DECEMBER 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 6 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ FAX: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ° 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ 5001 Eastern Avenue ¯ P.O. Box 29260 Washington, D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for more subscription information and mailing costs. ©1992 Review for Religious for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Se~in Sammon FMS Wendy Wright PhD Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living NOVEMBER-DECEMBER 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 6 contents religious life directions 806 Journeying Together in Faith Paul K. Hennessy CFC sets forth three themes from the Israelite covenant experience pertinent to religious life. 815 Communities of Hope Donna Markham OP suggests a dynamic of'religious life in terms of bringing forth a new way of life based on collaboration, mutuality, and respect. 823 The Service of Lay Associates Patricia McNicholas OSU examines different responses to the trend of religious communities sponsoring associate membership programs. dialogue ministry 830 Inculturation as Dialogue Diana Taufer SC suggests that interculturation better describes the task of church ministers in working among the Na~:ive American peoples. 839 Jewish-Catholic Dialogue since Vatican II Alan Altany describes how both Jews and Catholics approach the dialogue and also what dynamics the continuing dialogue will involve. formation and ministry 854 The Media and the Good News Patil F. Harman SJ challenges the Christian disciple to enter into the communications media with imagination and fortitude. 866 The Core of Ministry Laura Morgan FMSC discovers a garden of olives as the meeting place between God and us. 870 Spirituality in the Puebla Document Juan Ram6n Moren6 SJ ~aighlights the fundamental traits of a spirituality that is moving the Latin American church. 802 Review for Religious values and virtues 882 Confidentiality: Erosion and Restoration James F. Keenan SJ underscores the standard norms of confiden-tiality when therapy involves a client, a therapist, and a religious superior and community. 895 Detachment: The Enclosed Garden of the Soul Judy Bush describes various forms of everyday detachments by which God leads us to closer union. 906 The Spirit at Play Kenneth Homan describes how God's Spirit encourages us to become playful stewards. prayer and life 911 Iconoclasm for Holiness' Sake Julie Hollitt FDNSC ventures through iconoclasm to discover the extraordinary with the ordinary. 916 Four Types of Prayer Anthony H. Ostini SJ presents four ways of praying traditional in the church. 920 Broken Arrows Joseph F. Nassal CPPS reflects on a solitude necessary for heal-ing and transforming our life together. departments 804 Prisms 927 Canonical Counsel: Secular Institutes 933 Book Reviews 951 Indexes to Volume 51 November-December 1992 803 prisms ~henever we celebrate the feast of Christmas, we come face-to-face with our ways of imaging and under-standing God. Drawing close to a baby in a manger does not seem difficult for young or old, for shepherds or the-ologians. Yet the implications of such an imaging need to be appropriated anew by people in every age and culture. The Christmas tableau challenges our way of evalu-ating ourselves, our relationships with others, and our own response to God. People of our time, we find it nat-ural to stress our personal gifts and talents; we look to our strength in self-image and our self-reliance in thought and action. And, yes, we are made aware of a lot of proper healthy correctives given to us today by the psychological sciences. We are encouraged to pull our own strings, to be confrontative and even aggressive in pursuing our goals. Yet the angels' trumpeted Gloria above a stable reminds us that human dignity and personal choice are not values without restrictions or limits. Today our relationship with God centers often on gender-imaging, but with the result that something like "the force be with you" expresses the compromise of a god-without-a-face. In the midst of some overly serious abstract arguments and of our age's all-too-limiting focus on personal expe-rience comes a human baby named Jesus, whose mother is Mary. Each time we place ourselves in wonder before this creche, we are enabled to glimpse some of the deepest realities about divine and human life. Jesus comes to us as poor and humble. He is poor, not only because like any baby he is totally dependent for food and shelter on others, but also because he incarnates God's chosen way of relating to us. Jesus shows us a God who 804 Review for Religious truly needs us, who waits upon our response, who suffers our indifference as well as our petty insistences on making gods more to our own liking. Jesus brings home to us that God is not a mighty one who delights in hurling lightning bolts or an impas-sive one seated on a cloud and forever lost in contemplation. We rejoice in being led to a God who has chosen to make himself so needy that our efforts can fill what is still lacking in the redemp-tive act and that our prayers and our actions do build up the com-munity of the city of God. In fact, in recognizing such a God, we know that being poor is not a curse but a grace that makes us more like God. When we recognize our neediness as a fact in our relation to others and to God, then our poverty is truly becoming our graced choice. We are becoming like Jesus; divinity becomes us. Again like any poor person, the Son of Mary and the car-penter must labor for the necessities of life. He will say that every-thing he has is gift given by the one he knows as Abba, but at the same time, because this God is one who works, Jesus matter-of-factly professes "I work." And from the very beginning Jesus calls others to labor with him--so reminiscent of that creation account of God asking the first humans to work in bringing the garden to a greater fruitfulness. Jesus again brings home to all of us that God is the first of collaborators. If we want to grow more in the divine life, our direction is clear. To work with oth-ers is the dynamic of Christian living--in families, in workplaces, in parishes and religious communities, in ecumenical endeavors, in civil society. To celebrate Christmas is not to seek escape into magical stars and angels singing and plum puddings and once-a-year friendly greetings. We Christians worship a God who chooses to be poor like us so that we might make a similar choice and thus realize a richness which can only be God's gift. We Christians step for-ward to take on the responsibility of collaboration with God for the coming of the kingdom; like our God, we catch sight of our real selves not in doing our good works for others, but always in acting with others. God so loved the world., and in our so liv-ing and in our so working we make real our love for God, our-selves, our neighbor, and our world. That this be the Christmas grace for us all is the prayer of the editorial staff. David L. Fleming SJ November-December 1992 805 PAUL K. HENNESSY Journeying Together in Faith religious life directions A joint assembly of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR) and the Conference of Major Superiors of Men (CMSM) was held August 26-30, 1992 in Greensboro, North Carolina. This article and the one which follows are the addresses of the presidents of CMSM and LCVV~R. The theme we set for ourselves, "Now is the Time . . . Religious Life at a Moment of Kairos," is calling us to a journey in faith. Contemporary congregational leaders need to journey frequently. Ministry to our sisters and brothers and those they serve requires more than a tele-phone and a fax. For communities with personnel spread far and wide, frequent-flyer credits build up quickly. One of my personal rules of travel, especially in developing countries, where bus or airplane delays can be inter-minable, is to be involved in a good novel. Ever since I read The Day of the Jackal many years ago, I have been attracted to Frederick Forsyth's books. While waiting in JFK Airport in New York before a five-week visit to our South American communities recently, I began his Deceiver. In this three-part novel, an older German gendeman spy falls in love with a much younger prostitute, whom he later kills because of her infidelity. The novel's protagonist, Sam McCready, consults a psychiatrist about Paul K. Hennessy CFC, provincial of the Eastern American province of the Congregation of Christian Brothers, is midway through his two-year term as president of Conference of Major Superiors of Men. His address is 21 Pryer Terrace; New Rochelle, New York 10804-4499. 806 Review for Religious possible reactions this fellow, spy may have, since he needs him to complete a job. The German has disappeared. The ensuing dia- 10gue struck me as pertinent on many levels and precipitated some thoughts ~:or this address, which I wrote in Peru, a country very close to God in its poverty and dependence and, therefore, ani-mated by wonderful hope. The passage is as follows: "Fugue," Dr. Carr purst~ed as he speared a forkful of tender sole meuni~re, "means flight. Flight from reality, especially ~iarsh, unpleasant reality. I think your man will by now be in a really bad way." "What will he actually do?" asked McCready. "Where will he go?" "He will go to a sanctuary, somewhere he feels safe, ~ome,where he can hide, where all the problems will go away and people will leave him alone. He may even return to a Childlike state. I had a patient once who, overcome by prob-lems, returned to tied, curled into the fetal position, stuck his thumb in his mouth, and stayed there. Wouldn't come out. Childlike, you see. Safety, security. No problems. Excellent sole, by the way. Yes, a little more Meursault. Thank you." Each of us, I am sure, encounters people, inside or outside our communities, who prefer to look to the future through the rear-' view mirror: "Let's go back to where we were. Times really haven't changed." Underlying this, of course, is the implication that the past was better than the present. As we know, such comparisons can involve value judgments about loyalty and authenticity. As I journeyed aboizt South America and reflected upon the struggle inherent in continual conversions and authentic renewal and i'efounding, I could not help reflecting upon the journey our ancestors in faith, the Israelites, were called to make from Egypt to Canaan, from the old to the new. Are we not also daughters and sons ot the covenant? Three themes fr6m the covenant experience, from covenant theology, seem especially pertinent to us today: first, God's initiative in creation, in vocation, i.n pouring forth wisdom and giving.us discerning hei~rts; second, the attraction of returning to Egypt from the confusion of the journey, but the irresponsibiiity of doing so; third, the promise, which is faithful and immutable. Although the two creation narratives in Genesis differ sub-stantially in origin and in content, the common element.is that the initiative is God's. "In the beginning, when God created the heav-ens and the earth, the earth was a formless wasteland, and dark- Nove~nber-December 1992 807 Hennessy ¯ Journeying Together in Faith ness covered the abyss, while a mighty wind swept over the waters. Then God said . . ." (Gn 1:1-3). In the second account: "At the time when the Lord God made the earth and the heavens, while as yet there was no field shrub on earth and no grass of the field had sprtuted., the Lord God formed man." (Gn 2:4a-7). The belief of our biblical forebears was that God is the initiator of all that is good and meaningful. We have the capacity to be selfish, to be confused about who is in charge. We have the capacity to sin, bu~ we cannot create something new without God. The call of the great leader Moses, together with his sister Miriam and his brother Aaron, is forthrightly a call, a vocation, from God. The call to minister, to lead, is not one we take upon ourselves. "Come, now! I will send you to Pharaoh to lead my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt" (Ex 3:10). Throughout the Scriptures we are reminded that, in some mysterious and yet direct way, it is God who calls and sends forth: Abraham and Sarah; Hannah and her son, Samuel; David; Zechariah and Elizabeth; Mary and, yes, Jesus. "Then a voice came from the heavens: 'You are my beloved Son. On you my favor rests.' At that point the Spirit sent him out toward the desert [and he was] put to the test there by Satan" (Mk 1:11-13). While Solomon is the prototype of dependence on God for wisdom and understanding, the theme runs throughout our Scriptures. The forceful poetic rendition of this message in chap-ter 38 of the Book of Job is one I heard a retreat master recite from memory: "Then the Lord addressed Job out of the storm and said: Who is this that obscures divine plans with words of ignorance? Gird up your loins now, like a man; I will question you, and you tell me the answers! Where were you when I founded the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding" and so forth. Note in a much different context the wise advice of Gamaliel before the Sanhedrin after the apostles are tried: "My advice is that you have nothing to do with these men. Let them alone. If their purpose or activity is human in its origins, it will destroy itself. If, on the other hand, it comes from God, you will not be able to destroy them without fighting God" (Ac 5:38-39). The author of this account clearly understands the prophetic statement as an inspired one. The duty of a leader is to search prayerfully for the wisdom which is of God and not to depend on that wisdom which is solely our own. This leads us to the discernment of spirits. The spirit in our 808 Review for Religious Scriptures, which are the testimony of the faith of our Jewish and Christian forebears, is always a fructifying one which leads us to integrity and joy. Note in Psalm 1 that the person who delights in the law of God and meditates on it day and night is like a tree planted near running water that yields fruit in due season and whose leaves never fade. Integrity and joy as well as peace and kindness are always hall-marks of the Spirit's presence (see Ga 5:22- 26). The Book of Sirach reminds us that people who open their lips in prayer and ask pardon for sin will be filled with the spirit of understanding and will pour forth words of wisdom and give thanks to the Lord (see Si 39:6). What is the application of all this for leadership in religious communities in today's world, especially here in the United States? Clearly, we must be people of faith and hope supported by prayer: faith that the God who worked in unexpected and wonderful ways in ages past has not deserted us; hope and prayer, because we have to have the courage to express our inabilities, our own sinfulness, and our own confidence in the promise. There is a natural concern in our societies today for new mem-bership, and we could be discouraged by a naive understanding of fruitfulness. Looking again at Psalm 1, we note that the tree by the running water does not clone or multiply itself. It ~inks even deeper roots into the fertile ground so that its own integrity is more secure--reminding us that the quality of our religious lives depends on us and that we have control over it in ways in which we cannot control the number of members. There is a clear hunger among us for a greater understanding of contemplation and its fundamental place in our own spiritual lives. In our common discernment in Louisville in 1989, it was identified as one of the most important Of the transformative ele-ments which would lead us to the next century. Last year it was the theme for the LCWR assembly in Albuquerque. There are voices which, without entering into our processes and our prayer, would criticize our direction. We cannot mistrust the movement of the Spirit which we leaders, numbering one thousand, experience. The quality of our religious lives depends on us, and we have control over it in ways in which we cannot control the number of members. Noventber-Decentber 1992 809 Hennessy ¯ ffourneying Togetber in Faith We must challenge ourselves and those we serve to form new communities of women and men, confessing their dependence on God's initiative and joyously reflecting God's beauty and wis-dom. This is a gotd ~hat clearly re.sponds to the creativity of Yahweh throughout our sacred history. In Louisville we identified the first three transformative elements as calls to prophetic wit- .ness, contemplation, and a clear Option fo.r the poor. Can we have go.tten closer to covenant theology? Reconsidering the advice of Gamaliel, we must be convinced that, if our "purpose or activity is human in origin, it wil! destroy itself." If, on the other hafid, it comes from God, "people will not be able to destroy it without fighting God." The Bdok of Exodus reflects our journey. It is a wonde.rful source for meditation. We read of high aspirations of fidelity and great sinfulness in cowardice and betrayal. I began this address with a quotation from Forsyth about a character tempted to reg,ress into the past. Do we not see this same confused longing among the Israelites? Do we not identify with Moses and Myriam? After all they have done to free the people from Egypt, in a short time, we are told, these same peopl.e "grumbled against Misses and Aaron" and said to them, "Would that we had died . . . in the land of Egypt, as we sat by our fleshpots and ate our fill of bread! Bu.t you had to lead us into the desert to make the wl~ole community die of famine" (Ex ~6:2-3). Over and over, lived experience depicted in literature, both sacred and secu!ar, reflects perennial wisdom that we can never go home a.gain. Sefin Sammon FMS, in his presidential address at the CMSM assembly in San Antonio last August, reflected the reac-tions of people in the midst of major periods of transition. Certain!y one of these is to deny there is change going on. Another is to blame the leader, as the Israelites did. I am quite confident that the vast majority of the communities of women and'men religious in the United States have maturely and prayer-fully addressed the impact of the changes in society on our con-secrated lives. I am sure we have made mistakes and are willing to admit them, but I feel that overall we have been on target. While it is natural that some members within our communities have not welcomed the changes necessitated by a changed society, we have also had to expend a lot of energy defending ourselves from crit-icisms from outside our commu.nities, from people who have not walked in our 'moccasins. This is unfortunate, and we may need to 810 Review for Religious be very careful that we do not neglect that prophetic leadership which the vast majority of our members has called us to give. We are called to let the individual founding charisms which brought our communities into existence shine brightly in a transformed society. I have been privileged for the last four years to serve in a leadership position in CMSM. This has brought me into close contact with the men and women leading both our conferences. I trust my experience. I have observed firsthand how mature and faith-filled women and men can come together to listen, to respect, to collaborate, and to grow in love. Together we have learned and we continue to learn about prayer, about witness, about the poor, about the environment, and about striving for peace based on justice. Many in this room were gathered in Louisville three years ago and experienced our solidarity about our future. Why should we doubt that God is leading us? Theologians have consistently identified the sensus fidelium, the prayerful and thoughtful experience of good Christians, as one of the focal points for determining the will of God. Let us trust our own experience and continue to move forward. Certainly, we can be misled at times individually and even collectively, but we do not seek easy answers. Jesus reserves his harshest criticism for those with easy answers. He does not always question their sincerity, although sometimes he does, but he reminds them that God is continually pouring forth new wisdom. The Pharisees were not bad people, but they were terrified of change. Their monolithic understanding, as devout as it may have been, did not allow God to continue to bring forth the new, to pour new wine into new wineskins. The desire to go back to Egypt may have been attractive in the midst of uncertainty, but was it faithful to the call? Almost twenty years ago Thomas E. Clarke SJ, the philoso-pher and writer, collected a series of his essays into a book enti-tled New Pentecost or New Passion? The Direction of Religious Life Today (Paulist, 1973). In the foreword he said: How are we to disengage Christian faith from the time-bound cultural expressions and vehicles of the past without the loss of integrity? That is indeed the question at the heart of the anguish, tensions, and polarizations character-istic of a period which has turned out to be as much a new Passion as a new Pentecost. No group in the church has November-December 1992 811 Hennessy ¯ Journeying Together in Faith had to deal with the question with greater seriousness than members of religious communities and particularly of American communities of religious women. In my opinion, these last represent the cutting edge of renewal and have yielded in the past several years the most courageous and intelligent leadership which we have in the church today. Our living God not only inspires and challenges us to seek faith-ful, even if difficult, answers. God also calls us to responsibility. The third and final theme from our covenant theology that I wish to note, although I have referred to it already, is that there is a promise of a future of peace, based on love and justice; this pledge is faithful and immutable. The German theology of hope of the 1950s and 60s (names like Moltmann, Pannenberg, and Metz come to mind) found its way, with some permutations, into a Latin American theology of liberation closer to our own time. In my recent visit to Peru, I was struck once again how these peo-ple are really hope-filled. It seems to me that the word esperanza appears in practically every hymn and popular song. That hope is not just for a better Peru or even for a mundo mejor, a better world; it is a deeply religious belief in a better life which will never end. The promise to Abram and Sarai that they would be led to "a land that I will show you" (Gn 12:1) is at the very heart of the pil-grim spirituality of the people of Israel and is their reason to hope. If God is faithful, so must Yahweh's people be. "Keep all the commandments, then, which I enjoin on you today, that you may be strong enough to enter in and take possession of the land into which you are crossing, and that you may have long life on the land which the Lord swore to your fathers [and mothers] he would give to them and their descendants, a land flowing with milk and honey" (Dt 11:8-9). Psalm 135 exhorts us to keep the faith, to have hope "because the covenant fidelity," the hesed of Yahweh, "endures forever." In a properly understood theology of hope, as in liberation theology, our expectation is neither passive nor blind. The prophets used many words and much energy reminding the peo-ple that they also were responsible for bringing about a better world through their industry and ingenuity. Jesus, too, stresses the personal responsibility of each of his followers to bring about a world in which the hungry are fed, the thirsty are assuaged, and the naked are clothed (see Mt 25). Nearly thirty years have passed since Martin Luther King Jr.'s 812 Reviem for Religious prophetic words resounded from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. Reflecting on the covenant promises expressed in the United States Constitution, that prophet reminded the pilgrims who marched on Washington that the reality had not yet come close to the vision set forth in the Constitution. King reminded the world that even the freedom associated with the name Abraham Lincoln was not yet realized for all races. Coming from the shadow of the massive likeness of Lincoln, King's words wafted like a liberating breeze across the mall on that warm August day in 1963. The phrase still echoes in my memory: "Now is the time . . . now is the time." In a properly understood theology of hope, prophetic leaders remind the people of the orig-inal covenant. They do not ignore the chasm that exists between the promise and the reality. They are neither shy in telling the story of the way things could be, nor unrealistic about the way things are. And because they are people of hope, they proclaim confidently and continu-ously, "Now is the time., now is the time." It is my conviction that those of us in roles of religious lead-ership are obligated to reflect upon the instrumental position we play in the realization of the promise. We must, first of all, rec-ognize our own absolute dependence on God, and therefore we must spend significant time in prayer. Without such prayer we take ourselves all too seriously. Prayer becomes especially neces-sary, it would seem, when conflicts and misunderstandings arise within our communities or in the broader sphere of the church, of which we are both members and leaders. At those times par-ticularly, the promise must be our consolation. We are each called upon to bring our talents, our insights, our faith, our ingenuity, and our industry to bear in order to assure that we are faithful to the Gospel of Jesus and the original inspirations of our founders and foundresses. Our continuing call is to discern the signs of our times. While I have emphasized that reverting to the past is not an option for people of the promise, we need to study those aspects of covenant theology which are our greatest challenges today. We must not be blind to the fact that our proven North American We have been called to a community in baptism; we are saved as a community. November-December 1992 813 Hennessy ¯ Journeying Together in Faitls individualism creates real problems for the communitarian empha-sis in salvation history. We have been called to a community in baptism; we are saved as a community. Our founders and foundresses called us to community. While we cannot return to a time which canonized uniformity and called it unity, we have a key role to play in our church and in the world; we need to witness to the transcendent value of unity in heart and mind witnessed pub-licly. Our various founders and foundresses had different inten-tions in this area, and so a monolithic understanding of community is inappropriate and indeed impossible. However, when the affinity of our members with one another is so loose that true community is more in the imagination than in reality, we might have missed the mark. I indeed believe that in this area very necessary self-critiques are taking place within our houses. What do we mean by common prayer, common life, and so forth? It is appropriate that the examinations be internal since we seek the original inspirations and intentions of our various founders and foundresses. I am certain that the call to real community is an essential part of the covenant between God and ourselves. I believe that religious are in a privileged position for witnessing to com-munity forthrightly. It is an opportunity we cannot neglect for the sake of a world and a church in which people are crying for meaning, affiliation, and fulfillment. The Scriptures, which we call "sacred," are written expres-sions of an experience of God which is normative for us. The 'faith experience that the Scriptures report is not very different from our own. We are called to journey, to be confident people on pilgrimage. God is both initiator and fulfillment. We are called to faithfulness, exhibited in common lives of joy, love, and hope. "Now is the time., now is the time." In Memoriam David J. Hassel sJ died in Chicago, Illinois, on 26 September 1992. Father Hassel, a well-known author and contributor to this journal, recendy completed his term as a member of our advisory board. Please remember him in your prayers. 814 Review for Religious DONNA MARKHAM Communities of Hope Mtaphor is a window into the heart of human desire nd longing. It reveals the human spirit as it fuses our deepest-he!d beliefs with our lived experience. Metaphor expresses the kernel of What has been forgotten, lost in the whirlwind of our distracted lives. It holds the power to break through all that stands in the way of the proclamation of truth. Metaphor is at the center of the power of the mystic, the therapist, and the artist tO effect profound healing and change at the core of the human spirit. Because it touches the center of truth, a metaphor inter-preted always provokes change. Consequently, metaphors are often very disturbing--both to the speak.er and to the listener. A metaphor disturbs because it cannot be pursued very far without our being led to the very boundaries of what is most "sacred. It cannot be g,rasped at the level of the intellect alone--it is an empathic resonance of the spirit, an expression of what is true. like a parable, metaphor uses ordinary language to exprgss the extraordinary truth of what it.means to be human. Community, as metaphor, expresses the truth of our longing for relationship, the best expression of our humanness. Com-munity enge.nders awe and wonder as it webs together hearts in a world where individualism, separatism, and nationalism collude to keep us isolated and disempowered. Central to the birthing of an alternative world grounded in compassion and justice, com-munity threatens the prevailing culture by drawing near to and Donna Markham OP recently completed her one-year term as the Leadership Conference of Women Religious president. Her address is 8808 Cameron Street; Silver Spring, Maryland 20910. This presentation by the LCWR president (see introduction on page 806) was previously published in Origins 22, no. 14 (17 September 1992). November-December" 1992 815 Markham ¯ Communities of Hope conspiring with the transformative power of God. The presence of a community of hope disturbs and disquiets because it disrupts the social drift toward autonomy and self-sufficiency. It disturbs those of us who aspire to live it, and it unsettles the environment in which it is situated. It threatens change on every level and demonstrates that conversion and healing are, indeed, painful processes. Truly, community is a healing metaphor for a frag-mented world. It is not an option. It is an obligation essential for the survival of the planet. It is our obligation as religious women and men who have committed our lives to working for the reign of God in our world. The Prevailing Mood The most profound longings of our contemporary human spirit are variously contained in the language of critics, scholars, theologians, and poets--and those ordinary folks who are capable of verbalizing their inner pain. Repeatedly we find references to persons feeling alone and orphaned, individuals searching for meaning. Not too long ago, a 31-year-old mother of two sat with me in tears as she said, "I don't feel like I belong anywhere or to anyone. I just feel unwanted and not connected to anybody. I keep looking for things to make me feel better, but nothing is working." She went on to tell me how she had bought a high res-olution TV and a new VCR and, most recent!y, had gotten a sta-tionary bike. In spite of her new acquisitions, she continued, "I feel like I'm on the verge of dropping out, giving up. I can't sustain a lasting friendship or belong to a group for any length of time. Noth!ng lasts. The pain is horrible. I am trapped, cold and alone. I can't get out. Nothing makes sense anymore." Her expression is that of a prisoner in self-enforced solitary confinement. "I am trapped, cold and alone. I can't get out"--the deepest truth of her experience expressed in analytic metaphor. In the act of expressing her truth and in the response of someone interpreting her excruciating pain of helplessness and isolation, she begins her journey toward freedom. Similar experiences of disengaged subjectivity and alienation have often resulted in an escalation of materialism and con-sumerism-- a desperate effort to capture some solace and com-fort. In a rather disturbing commentary on contemporary experience, Robert Bellah notes that one of the most prized and 816 Review for Religious inexpendable commodities which we Americans possess is a microwave oven--the antithesis of the sacrament of the family meal (The Good Society, 93). A family's shared preparation of, par-ticipation in, and cleaning up after Sunday dinner all-too-fre-quently is replaced by each member "zapping" his or her own favorite microwave-ready food and rushing off to the next sched-uled event. Daily news commentaries unveil progressive fragmentation and self-serving separatism. Separatism, often disguised and jus-tified as American "pluralism," promotes scandalous division and destruction in every corner of our lived experience. Recently we have had our own experience with this type of heretical rational-ization and have experienced its painful effects. In an attempt to recover from the stunning and disheartening consequences of enforced and formalized division, we face with greater determi-nation our commitment to call for union and collaboration among those who are committed to justice, peace, and the common good. We know well from our own experience that the obsessive pursuit of private agendas, often driven by politics, has resulted in personal, ecclesial, and national crises of meaning and belong-ing. Repeatedly our poets, spiritual writers, ecolog.ists, sociolo-gists, and even business analysts reflect to us the dangers and numbing effects of individualism, separatism, and the disregard for unity and the good in common. Communities of Hope Entwined in these commentaries of our day is the longing for connection, meaning, and belonging. Community is the delib-erate human expression of such profound yearning for intimacy and purpose. I am convinced it is our final hope for establishing reconciling communication in a pained world. And it is our hope for the future of a religious life that finds itself immersed in an era roiled by exclusion, competition, and confrontation. Communities of hope become the bridges between islands of the spirit where compassion, friendship, and commitment to the mission of the Gospel still flourish. Vibrant communities of hope hold the power to proclaim the truth that we are profoundly interconnected with God and with ill creation. We are part of a living system which is our home. Communities of hope witness to our being embedded in the whole Noveraber-December 1992 817 Markham ¯ Communities of Hope of God's creation and, as living parts of this system, they are agents for the conversion of all those who promote fierce com-mitment to their own separate survival. What are the demands and conseq.uences of living at the heart of the metaphor? What does it mean for us, women and men reli-gious at a very precarious moment in history, to commit and entrhst 6urselves to ultimate belonging--to the creation of com-munities of hope which attest to the truthfulness of God's rela-tionship with us and with our world? This question is currently a. focus for many provincial and general chapters. It is a question which we are addressing with a degree of candor and self-critique that attests the maturity of American religious life. And it is a ~luestion we are answering by calling ourselves to no less than the profound communal transformation of con.temporary religious life. We know well that norms and lifestyles which were sufficient and effective yes.terday are painfully inadequate' to address the crises o.f today. Yet, in spite of uncertainty and the lack of clear direction, and often in the midst of misunderstanding and criticism from those upon whom we have counted, we entrust Ourselves to our faithful God and move on. We are taking the charism of religious life extremely seri-ously. We ar~ risking new ways of being communities of celebra-tion that radiate coherence and hope into society. More and more we are immersing ourselves among the marginated and most vul-nerable. In the blighted core of an inner city, a group of religious engaged in various ministries opens its home to neighbors--a place for prayer, respi.te, and hospitality--a contradiction in an environment charged with violence and suspicion. In a border town young adults and religious ~'espond to the needs of Central American refugees by establishing a center 'for illegal aliens. Theological reflection, common prayer, radical simplicity, and advocacy form the nonnegotiable basis of their communal life. Surrounded by affluent retirement communitieF, a growing enclave of destitute migrant workers is attended by wonderfully altruistic college students, religious brothers, and some commit-ted. couples who live among, pray with, and work on behalf of this neighborhood of preyiously ignored people. Such communities of hope are growing in strength and num-bers across the country. Increasingly we are embedding ourselves in uncomfortable places where we are bound to challenge the dominant norms of our church and our society. Counting on the 818 Review for Religious binding friendship of God, we are often venturing into places where many--and, indeed, where we--may not wish to go. Nevertheless, with all the metaphoric power of being part of a greater whole--a part which contains and is contained by every other part--we are conspiring in and committed to the healing and unify-ing transformation of the earth. While we have reason to be encouraged, we realize we have much to which to call ourselves and our congregations. Such a growing commitment to be communities of hope is inspired by the covenanted intentionality of God. We become more closely bound to God as we bind ourselves increasingly to God's will for mercy, justice, and peace. This binding intimacy--and the continued conversion to which it calls us--destabilizes the status quo and, consequently, is perceived as subver-sive by those who feel more at home in an environment of sepa-ratism and elitism. Such people fiercely resist the "subversion" they do not want to see. Increasingly we are embedding ourselves in uncomfortable places where we are bound to challenge the dominant norms of our church and our society. The Cost of Commitment Clearly, there are obligations which follow from taking responsibility to live at the core of metaphor. To begin with, com-munities of hope relinquish the security of the rigid constructs and protective routines that once defined community life. They are resilient and responsive to the ebb and flow of the needs of those among whom they li',;e, all the while claiming contemplative space, some time set apart. Participation in these transformative communities calls us to let go of our own accommodation to per-sonal comfort and possessions, to lay aside rugged autonomy and private agendas, in order to respond together to those needs which are most urgent. Those who live in the metaphor strive to rep-resent that which is most true. For many of us, that calls us away from what has been more comfortable. Communities of hope call us to be marginated anawim while, at the same time, being surrounded by the dominant culture. That November-December 1992 819 Markham ¯ Communities of Hope is, we are called to make a home with the dispossessed and vul-nerable in the midst of a culture that rejects them. We commit ourselves to live in the midst of prevalent social norms while maintaining a distinct identity as outsiders who refuse to be domesticated. We commit ourselves to responsible criticism of the prevailing culture, to search for and proclaim the truth of what we see and experience. We do this through the rigorous practice of a shared faith, through nondefensive and honest inter-action with those who oppose us, and through an uncompromis-ing commitment to contemplation, common prayer, and, most importantly, a reconciling compassion. Further, communities of hope hold the capacity to grieve together as they remember what has been forgotten and feel the shared pain of being outsiders. The catharsis of grieving yields to the.celebration of a faithful God who is friend and companion, who has called us together to be an organic conspiracy for the healing of our world. The inability of persons to feel and admit sadness marks a dulling adaptation to the existing state of affairs. One of the more disturbing symptoms an individual or a group can exhibit is the absence of the human emotion of sadness. Those who are unable to grieve have closed themselves to the transfor-mative power of empathic love and compassion. They have sealed themselves in smug detachment. As members of transformative communities, we must have the hope and the stamina to sustain rejection, misunderstanding, and unfair judgment--even ridicule--from the dominant major-ity. Walter Brueggemann addresses this in his Interpretation and Obedience, saying that exiles "must hold and practice faith in an empire that is deeply hostile., to our most precious social vision" (206). He continues, "The empire has a plan for the exiles: that they should be forever displaced, homeless, at risk, restless, admin-istrated (223). The empire will never understand. In the end, however, it will yield" (232). Staying Faithful Communities of hope are consistently faced with the risk of becoming sidetracked from their dynamic function of bringing forth a new way of life based on collaboration, mutuality, and respect. The dominant system will try to entice us to set aside our own agenda and replace it with its own. It will consistently and 820 Review for Religious untiringly try to seduce us into spending time and energy in reac-tion to it rather than in being about the threatening task of pro-claiming truth, justice, and compassion. It may even attempt to entrap us, freeze us out, and isolate us in the hope that we will feel just as imprisoned as that 31-year-old mother. But as long as com-munities remain faithful expressions of the human desire for heal-ing, for solidarity with the suffering and the vulnerable, and for communion with God and with creation, we will continue to agi-tate and disturb the pervasive system--and we will continue to promote its healing. The prevailing culture will attempt to undermine communi-ties of hope by coopting individual members to submit t6 a more comfortable existence, removed from the stringent demands .of proclaiming what is true and just. The dominant system cleverly realizes that solitary persons will not survive long as outsiders in its midst. They are ripe to be picked off and assimilated, thereby losing their power to convert and transform. Nowhere is the evil of the dominant system more apparent than when it works to devalue and fragment those who are bound together to work for the common good. The more hostile, intransigent, and wily the environment, the greater the need for the community to gather hope, strengthen desire, and realize vision. Leading at the Heart of Truth Good leaders have the courage to interpret the metaphor. They know that meaning is wrapped in the heart of metaphor. Leaders risk telling the truth. They realize that, left uninter-preted, the metaphor is bereft of the fullness of its power to bring about change. But the metaphor can be interpreted only from a posture of deep love. If there is any element of judgment or reprisal, the interpretation will be rejected. To prepare ourselves for the act of interpretation, we know that we must love with a passion that transforms our whole being, that is rooted in and nourished by contemplative relationship with God. We pray for a love that is so transparent and pervasive that it gives us the greatness to accept our own failings and those of our sisters and brothers, the courage to proclaim the vision of an alternative world ruled by the good in common, and the wisdom to challenge any acquiescence to the status quo. This is the foun-dation of interpretation. November-December 1992 821 Markham ¯ Communities of Hope What might interpretation entail for leaders today? It would entail: ¯ recalling the memory, the charism, and the values of the covenant; ¯ acknowledging, supporting, and celebrating deepening com-munities of hope; ¯ sharing the sorrow of the community of outsiders as they struggle to maintain integrity and unity in the face of misunder-standing, stereotyping, or ridicule; ¯ challenging those who are being tempted toward assimila-tion by the prevailing norms of individualism and materialism; ¯ asking difficult questions when the obliteration of bound-aries begins to diminish the identity of the community and moves it to compromise its prophetic purpose. It is in the honesty of the interpretive act that truth is revealed and continued conversion is realized. We who take on the respon-sibility to interpret must know that we will be called to profound experiences of inner conversion that happen only when we love the community so very deeply. In this act of interpretation, we are led with our communities to the edge of what is, simultane-ously, overwhelming and most sacred. A~ we continue to promote the coming of the reign of God in this new day, we bind ourselves in communion, united in a vision of religious life that is unafraid to live truthfully in the criticism of a dominant system, and we pray in the words of the prophet that we will continue to seek God with all our heart, with a sin-gle loyalty, with a centered hope (see Jr 29:13). 822 Review for Religious PATRICIA MCNICHOLAS The Service of Lay Associates Ordinary people can do extraordinary things. Many lay people fee! called to service of the poor and needy, but c~anfiot always find appropriate or worthwhile ways to respond to thi~ call. M.any communities of women religious have the per-so. nnel, the financial resources, and the contacts that enable var-ious forms of ministry to the poor and the disenfranchised to 6perate~ successfully. These programs are now being shared with lay people who desire to work with religious .communities in coop-erative ministry projects. Are thes~ programs, which involve the !aity in a religious co.mmunity's outreach efforts, one mor6 aspect of the movement toward formal lay association with religious communities? This aru,'cle attempts to place such efforts within the broad conte~ of the associate movement as it has developed in the United States. In the last twenty years, religious communities have set up various relational structures with groups of lay persons. T,hese are usually Enown as associate members or co-members. The groups are of special interest because, seeming to have appeared out of nowhere, they have increased in numbers at a tremendous rate. Today more than 60 percent of women's communities have an associate program and another 19 percent indicate that they are developing or are interested in developing a program? The phe-nomenon continues in spite of the lack of any clear-cut struc-tures, national organization, or official impetus. In some religious communities these groups embody their hopes for the future of religious life; for others they are a threat to that v~ry same future. Patricia McNicholas osu is completing her work on a doctorate in ministry. She c~n be addressed at 4250 Shields Road; Canfield, Ohio 44406. November-December 1992 823 McNicbolas ¯ The Service of Lay Associates Rosemary Jeffries asserts: "There is a plurality of religious life modes operative at ~he current time but none seems totally ade-quate in itself. New and emerging forms of membership suggest that one model might not be sufficient. Clearly the traditional model cannot accommodate alternative forms of membership.''2 The persons who participate in associated groups typically resemble the community of which they are a part. For example, the vast majority are older, white, middle-class, educated women-- the same description that would hold for most religious commu-nities of women. In the pastr membership in religious communities was lim-ited to vowed members only. No longer is this the case. Recent research shows that associate groups participate at different lev-els within community life and that the various programs tend to follow discernible patterns in their development and in their rela-tionship to specific religious communities. Jeffries describes five trends that are generally found in such programs: 1. The associate membership programs tend to attract persons very similar to the religious themselves. 2. Decisions and responsibility for the programs are mainly in the hands of the religious. 3. The activities of associate programs are limited, and communication with associates is generally sparse. 4. Most religious and associates currently involved in the associate programs are ambiguous about the purpose and future direction of these programs. 5. Associates are more positive about the programs than are the religious.3 In May 1989, more than 100 directors of such programs and associate members gathered at Bon Secours Spiritual center in Marriottsville, Maryland, for the first national gathering to discuss the movement. The purpose of the gathering was described as exploring "how spiritualities or charisms of the church, previ-ously identified with particular religious congregations, were being assimilated by groups of lay people who claim the identity, history, and traditions of a particular spirituality as their own.''4 Although the groups differed in the frequency with which they gathered, in the typg of commitment required, and in the kind of formation provided by the rel!gious community, what they seemed to have in common was the forming of bonds between the laypersons and the religious on the basis of the charism and 824 Review for Religious mission of the community. The persons at this assembly also emphasized the importance of spiritual growth and of the expe-rience of community. In some religious communities, associate groups have become so integrated within the community itself that they may now be considered co-members of the institute. Rose Marie Jasinski CBS and Peter Foley describe what they identify as four "generations" of associates. The first-generation associate was a person look-ing to the religious for spiritual growth. It was assumed that the religious took the leadership in the movement. In the second gen-eration, there was a growing sense that the laypersons and the religious journeyed together on this spiritual path. In the third generation, the associates were invited to participate in the com-munity life of the congregation. In the fourth and current gen-eration, associates actively participate in the mission of the congregation and may be considered co-members.5 Should all associate groups move toward the vision suggested byJasinski's schema? Conleth Overrfian seems to believe so. He thinks associate groups will be the very stimulus needed to create a future for religious institutes that are currently losing mem-bership. He calls on reiigious communities to extend member-ship to the laity. He says, "The future of religious life lies, not in some foi'm of 'non-canonical' organization, but in a vital amal-gamation of the fully vowed religious membership and an associ-ation of l~y people who would in actual fact be members of the religious institute.''6 He envisions a group of dedicated prayerful people who share the spirit of the institute and collaborate with vowed members in fulfilling the community's mission in the church.7 Out of this experience Overman sees religious institutes revitalized with a torrent of new life. This vision of religious life extends the meaning of what it means to be a religious, just as in earlier centuries the concept of being a religious was expanded from the notions of enclosed cloister to apostolic religious com-munities. Paula Gonzales SC also envisions co-membership as important for the renewal of religious communities. She main-tains that the emergence of associate/co-membership is the begin-ning i~f a marked transformation in the very identity and understanding of religious life.8 In March 1990, Region VI of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious met in Cincinnati to discuss the movement. In preparation for the meeting, the members completed a mail sur- November-December 1992 825 McNicbolas ¯ The Sei'vice of Lay Associates vey about their experiences regarding the associate movement. Doris Gott~moeller reported the results of the siar~ey and then summarized her finding in an article in Review for R~ligi~)us.9 Many questions about the movemen~ emerged. The most basic one concerned the very nature of associate groups. Are they really iaew forms of membership !n [he congregation,, or are they essentially noncanon, ic.al, lay associations connected to various religious institutes? Jeffries maintain~ that [h~ emergence of the associate movement and 6ther altei'- native forms of membership re,deals the need to reconcep-tualize religious life as a plurif6rm mod~l inclusi;ce of different ways of belonging rather than ~is one model . Possibly the more pluriform reality of contemporary reli-gious life provides an appropriate atmosphere for the growth of nonclinical forms of association.~° If these new organizations do represent a visionary refound-ing of th~ institutes and a new form of membership within the institute, what effect will such programs have on the existing corl-gregation and on its sense of ideritity? What rights do the asso-ciates have? Should associates be invited to participate in congregational events such as chapters, assemblies, and celebra-tions? Gottemoeller is clear about the need to clarify and answer these questions. Elizabeth McDonough criticizes.the popular belief that ~associates should be given rights to participate in inter-nal commuriity matters. She says: Perhaps religious ~vary of this ti'end instinctively sense the accuracy of the . . . analysis by sociologist Wittberg, who notes that the associate/co-membership t~'end is far from a contemporary i'efounding. It is me~ely t'i!pical behavior for ¯ . . groups that have no central communitai'ian identity by wbicb, they can attract others or into which they can incor-porate newcomers or from which they c~n claim the ongo-ing allegiance of or make significant demands on--those who belong.~ Her view would seem to suggest that the question is no~ just one concerning levelsof membership, but one concerning the ver~ identity of the institute itself. If associates are seen as mem-bers, then is the institute graying the boundaries that create its i.dentity and in that very process conti'ibuting to its own demise? In a re(ent issue of Human Developm6nt, Donfia Markham also raises the question of boundaries. She sa~,s that l~aders of reli- 826 Review for Religious gious institutes in this time of tremendous change need to "call the group to hope and to a bold vision for the future. They push at the boundaries of how the group has defined itself.''~2 Later in the same article, though, she notes that it can be a form of denial for a community to "make its boundaries so permeable that they no longer truly exist.''~3 Thus the nature and identity of these associational groups is the most significant one to be answered by any congregation as they form and develop associate programs. Experts in canon law also have serious questions about the move toward membership rights for associates. In a bulletin pub-lished by the Canon Law Society of America, David Hynous OP states: It is not appropriate to use the terminology of membership to designate those women and men collaborating with us in our ministries. It may very well be inspired by the sincere hope of stimulating our lay colleagues to give serious con-sideration to a lifetime commitment in religious life. But, insofar as we are discussing lay participation in the apos-tolic endeavors of religious institutes, it is misleading to use the terminology of membership,t4 He raises concerns when associates are invited to live and work with religious. These include questions regarding appropriate formation, issues surrounding celibacy, and financial concerns including hospitalization and retirement. These are serious issues around the question of membership. Gottemoeller, in her reflections, also raises the question of what kind of formation should be provided.'5 She asks, too, whether the program is intended to support the congregational members or whether it is outwardly focused, that is, intended to promote the mission of the church. She challenges the view that associate membership will be a way to ensure the continuity of congregation-sponsored ministries. Most associates seem more concerned about their personal relationship with the congrega-tion than with the future of the congregation's institutions. She states, "My impression is that very few associates are in positions of responsibility in congregational ministries, with the talent and energy to direct the ministries in the future.''~6 In addition, Jeffries notes that most associates reflect the aging patterns of their respective communities.'7 Gottemoeller concludes by not-ing that, given the nature and number of the questions about the associate relationship identified here, any conclusions about November-December 1992 827 McNicbolas ¯ The Service of Lay Associates its long-term contribution to religious life are decidedly premature. Perhaps the best stance to take is to be cautious about either overstating the potential of associate programs to redefine religious life or underestimating the power of the Spirit to use this vehicle to revitalize an age-old phe-nomenon within the church.~8 In spite of the questions raised concerning the nature of such groups, many communities are continuing to sponsor or plan for these types of associate groups within their community structure. These associate membership groups will continue to provide one way for lay people to fulfill their baptismal call to contribute to the mission of the church, namely, through cooperation with the efforts of a specific religious community. At the same time, those who participate will enable the community to expand its own con-cept of what it means to be a "member" of that specific commu-nity. The participants in associate programs will come to some understanding of the community's history and charism and will participate in the mission of the community. There is a need for continued research on this relatively new phenomenon within religious life. In the meantime many layper-sons are finding fulfillment in a variety of ministerial experiences related to the charisms and works of specific communities. If the results of the trend are positive for the religious communities that sponsor such associations, for the lay people who participate in them, and for the poor and the needy who benefit from them, this trend may well be with us for a very long time to come. Notes ~ Rosemary Jeffries RSM, "Results of the Survey on Associate Membership in Religious Life," Horizon: Journal of the National Religious Vocation Conference 16 (winter 1991): 65. 2 Ibid, p. 63. 3 Ibid, p. 74. 4 Rose Marie Jasinski CBS and Peter Foley, "Reflections on the Associate Movement in Religious Life," Occasional Papers, a publication of The Leadership Conference of Women Religious, 16 (October 1989): 7. s Ibid, p. 8. 6 Conleth Overman CP, "The Need for Religious Institutes to Develop a Strong Outreach of Lay Associates," Sisters Today 57 (February 1986): 345. 7 Ibid, p. 347. s Paula Gonz~ilez SC suggested this in an address at the First National 828 Review f~r Religious. Conferences of Associate/Co-Membership, as quoted in Karen Schwarz, "Alternative Membership in Religious Congregations," Review for Religious 50 (July/August 1991): 559. 9 Doris Gottemoeller RSM, "Looking at Associate Membership Today," Review for Religious 50 (May/June 1991): 391-393. 10 Jeffries, p. 64. 1~ Elizabeth McDonough OP, "The Past Is Prologue: Quid Agis?" Review for Religious 50 (January-February 1992): 93. The reference to Wittberg is from Patricia Wittberg SC, Creating a Future for Religious Life (New York: Paulist Press, 1991), esp. chapters 2, 3, and 4. ~2 Donna J. Markham OP, "Making Friends with the Dragon: Women's Leadership in a Time of Transformation," Human Development 12 (sum-mer 1991): 29. 13 Ibid, p. 32. ,4 David M. Hynous OP, "Associate Membership in Religious Institutes," Bulletin on Issues of Religious Law 6 (Silver Spring, Maryland: Canon Law Society of America et al., 1990): 6. is Gottemoeller, p. 393. ~6 Ibid, p. 396. 17 Jeffries, p. 65. ,8 Gottemoeller, p. 397. Signs The straws in the wind at the door of a cave were signs, of a sort, of the brush of the Spirit-- but who caught the hint the Messiah would have a crib of rough chaff in that draft, or so near it? P.C. Ghotiolo SJ November-December 1992 829 DIANA TAUFER Inculturation as Dialogue dialogue ministry During a 1991 conference, Basic Directions in Native American Ministry, Sister Genevieve Cuny asked the Pueblo Indians present, "What gifts can the church share with you?" Again and again individuals answered for their groups, "Respect." This response indicates how church ministers can make the quincentennial years of Columbus's voyages years of reparation. It is the way of inculturation, of ongoing dialogue between faith and culture, because true dialogue fosters respect in and for all participants. But too often inculturation is a monologue by the church. The word lends itself to this misinterpretation. A better word would be "interculturation," which emphasizes that real ongoing dialogue clarifies the truth in both faith and cul-ture and thus leads to the mutual transformation of both. And dialogue requires a pervading presence of church min-isters among the people. Christ's message contains, at least implicidy, the whole truth for our living as God's people. The church, how-ever, has in its humanness proclaimed it imperfecdy, espe-cially by giving it overtones of Euro-American culture. The Native American and other cultures can offer insights which point out foreign and neglected elements in church teaching. Interculturation is also a matter of justice. An old def- Diana Taufer SC drew upon her work as a docent at the Indian Pueblo Cultural Center for her reflections in this article. Her address is 1014 South George Drive; Tempe, Arizona 85218. 830 Review for Religious inition of justice is "giving each one his or her due." Christ's mes-sage is due to ~ill people in all its purity with respect for them as persons and with respect for the truth that is in them. Church history is full of examples of how missionaries of old, influenced by the limitations of the times, failed to dialogue because they did not r~spect the culture and were not really present among thd people. The quincentennial presents an opportunity for church min-isters, ordained and nonordained, to learn from the way inter-culturation did or did not happen in the past when Catholic missionaries worked fimong Native Americans. A good starting point is With the Pueblo Indians of the Southwest, 90 percent of whom are baptized Catholics. While practicing also their native religion, they have maintained their language and cul-ture better than any other group of Native Americans. As early as 1528, Spanish explorers, accompanied by Franciscan missionaries, began to make inroads into Pueblo territ6ry. The first permanent settlement in New Mexico was made in 1598, nine years befoi'e the establishment of the colony at Jamestown. The Franciscans were men of their times, and the times were the years after the Protestant Reformation and the Council of Trent when the fear of heresy permei~ted the church. A~ a result, close relationships between the friars and the Indians Were discouraged by their superiors, and the friars were advised not to learn the native language. It became Franciscan policy to shift the priests frequently from one mission to another and to send them back at times to Mexico. The' priests emphasized the differences between the indigenous religion and the Catholic faith rather than the similarities, contrary to the practice of many earlier priests in Mexico. Coercion became the order of the day. The policy for con-version, as framed by the king of Spain and announced by the friars, stated that, if the natives accepted the Catholic faith once it was explained to them, great rewards would follow. If they did not, all of them would be enslaved, which consequence would be their own fault. Those Indians who did not cooperate sufficiently. An old definition of justice is "giving each one his or her due." November-Decen~ber 1992 831 Taufer ¯ Inculturation in their own "conversion" were whipped, humiliated, and other-wise punished. When the Indians later resisted the destruction of their nativ~ religious paraphernalia, some multioffenders were hanged. Joe Savilla, who with his wife, Peggy, heads the ministry to Native Amei-icans in the Archdiocese of Santa Fe, has begun to call these latter Indians martyrs. Coercion also invaded the Indian workday. The massive churches--sandstone set in adobe mud, with huge roof beams brought from mountains many miles away--were constructed with conscripted labor from the pueblos. To make matters even more unpalatable, men were often required tO do what they con-sidered women's work, for instance, plastering walls. In addition, the Pueblo Indians were expected to support the missions with food and other necessities. The NIexican government's economic system added to these burdens by awarding to local Spaniards tribute exacted from the native peoples in the form of labor, corn, blankets, hides, and so forth. By J680 the Spanish colonials and missionaries had so alien-ated the native peoples that they revolted. When the friars refused to leave, twenty-three out of thirty-one of them were killed along with about three hundred colonists; the remainder were driven out'of the area. Father Ed Savilla, a Pueblo Indian and pastor at Tats Pueblo, calls the 1680 revolt a spiritual power struggle between the Indian spiritual leaders and the missionaries. After the Spanish returned and regained control (1692-1698), coercion eased. Nevertheless, about 1773 Father Joaqu~n de Jestis noted: The petty governor and the lieutenant have their places at the door so that people may not leave during the hour of prayer and Mass. When all are in their places,., the father takes atten-dance to see whether everyone is there . If anyone is missing, the petty governor goes to fetch him. If he is not in the pueblo., he is punished on the following Sunday. The pueblos responded to these policies by taking their native practices underground, literally in some cases because kivas were at least in part below the ground. Anthropologists like Edmund Spicer describe their present pattern of belief as compartmental-ization, the practice of two religions kept separate. Ed Savilla thinks a better term to desEribe the relationship between their two beliefs is "parallel." A Pueblo woman told me that she wor-ships the one God in two ways, but she values the Eucharist above 832 Review for Religious all else. A Taos man, who spoke at the 1992 conference on Indian spirituality in Santa Fe, described his native and Catholic beliefs as interwoven. When I questioned him further, he answered that this description, he felt, fitted the majority of his people. Joe Sando, who was raised in Jemez Pueblo and still main-tains ties with the village, summarizes the beliefs of his people in his latest book, Pueblo Nations: Eight Centuries of Pueblo Indian History (1992): Elements of Catholic ritual that have been accepted are: worship on Sundays and receiving the various sacraments, confirmation, baptism, weddings, and the native social dances of the saints' days, Christmas, and Easter. These rit-uals are now accepted as traditional Pueblo social and cul-tural patterns. When I questioned him in an interview concerning what Catholic teachings Pueblos might disagree with, he said he knew of none. Presumably he is acquainted with at least the basic Catholic doctrines since he is a graduate of the Jemez mission school. Is the Pueblo culture in any way transforming the Catholic Church in New Mexico? If the interiors of the churches are any evidence, the answer is "a little." The old church at Zuni is being decorated with life-size representations of Zuni ceremonial figures. A church or two have been painted with Indian designs and have bowls of corn meal at the feet of statues. The interiors of most of them are old European in style. If the liturgies are any evidence of Pueblo cultural influence on the church, the answer is "very little" except on major feast days. Then the statues are carried in wocession after Mass to a shrine in one of the plazas, and the dancing begins. The Mass itself, homily and all, does not incorporate Indian elements, even when the readings could be linked to Indian spirituality. On the other hand, Sister Ann Rosalia Sazbo and the Tewa choir at San Juan Pueblo have translated sung parts of the Mass into Tewa and set the words to music. The factor that seems to make the biggest difference in the amount of interculturation that has occurred is the residency or nonresidence of a priest in the pueblo. These pieces of evidence are externals only, but if they are so slight, it is unlikely that much interculturation is taking place on a deeper level. The whole church would be much richer if authentic interculturation did occur. Even a little understanding November-December 1992 833 Taufer ¯ Inculturation of the Indian belief in the interdependence of all creatures would make a big difference in the American way of living. The Pueblo Indian believes that, if you intend to kill an animal, you have to let it know why and ask for understanding. An unusual instance of this realization was thd 1980 grasshopper invasion of the Rio Grande Valley. The elders advised their people: "Talk to them, tell them to have mercy. Tell them to eat, but to remember that we have children to feed too. Ask them to go on to another place and do not make war on them." Many Pueblos used the wooden plow long after the iron plow was introduced by the Spaniards. The wooden plow was gentler to Mother Earth because it did not scar so deeply. Ironically, a headline in the 29 June 1992 i~sue of Time states: "The plow is being displaced by new technique that protects the land." Another headline reads: "By the year 2000 no-till farming will be used in 80 percent of the cropland. It will be the greatest change in agri-culture in 100.years." The Pueblo Indians strive also for harmony among them-selves. They regard a schism in the village as the worst of evil. They believe that striving for wealth, social prestige, or personal power can weaken the harmony in the village. Often persons will refuse an office until they can no longer hold out against those urging acceptance. Traditionally, personal excellence is not regarded as success. When Maria Martfnez rediscovered the lost secret of black pottery for which she became world famous, she shared it with others without asking for any compensation. One's place depends upon fulfilling communal obligations. Surely the rest of us can learn from such attitudes even if we prefer not to imitate them in detail. There is no part of their culture that I have experienced more than their practice of sharing. The Bureau of Indian Affairs tried to stamp out their practice of it because the authorities regarded it as improvident. Nevertheless, the "throw" persists to this day. I was invited to be present for one at Laguna when the family was celebrating the name days of several members. Several persons stood on the rooftop and threw food and household items to a cr6wd of two hundred or more gathered below. Another sharing custom occurs on important feast days: families invite friends and strangers into their homes for a meal as a special prayer offering in honor of the day. This custom was explained to me by a young man when he realized that it was my first time to have been 834 Revieiv for Religious extended an invitation. Later I was glad that I did not linger too long, when I learned that courtesy requires that you leave so as to make room for others to be seated. On Christmas Day a Pueblo man at the rear door of Santo Domingo Church was giving each visitor a loaf of oven bread. When I asked if I could give something in return, he suggested a donation to the church. The visitor register showed that people from all over--Canada, Mexico, the Netherlands, Switzerland, New Zealand, Morocco, and so forth--had experienced that day the Indian gift of sharing. Later that year a woman I had just met invited me to visit her home in Santa Clara Pueblo. As I was leaving, she gave me a black-on-black pot that she had made. Greatest, however, of all their gifts is the example of a life permeated by religious beliefs. At Jemez State Monument a plaque reads: "We have no word for 'religion.' We have a spiritual life that is part of us 24 hours a day; it deter-mines our relation with the natural world and our fellow man." The Pueblo Indians engaged in many struggles with the American government because of their determination to main-tain traditions essential to the practice of their beliefs. In 1924 Charles Burke, commissioner of Indian Affairs, ordered the erad-ication of some observances which he regarded as sadistic and obscene. In response the council of all the New Mexico Pueblos issued a formal declaration: "Our religion to us is sacred and is more important than anything else in life . There is no future for the race of Indians if its religion is killed." When the American government wanted to incorporate into public lands the sacred Blue Lake of Taos, the elders refused to accept all arrangements, including those reimbursing them for lost lands, until in 1971 Blue Lake was returned to them. What Joseph E. Brown says of the Native American in gen-eral can be applied to the Pueblo Indian in particular: 'We have no word for "religion." We have a spiritual life that is part of us 24 hours a day.' With the American Indian we are dealing ultimately with a quality of culture wherein action and contemplation are interrelated and integrated . It may be said that special rituals and ceremonials, as well as the routine of daily life, Novevnber-Deceraber 1992 835 Taufer ¯ Inculturation constitute meditative acts that open to the exceptional per-son at least possibilities of pure contemplation. The dance, as a form of worship, is as ancient as their legends and has roots deeply embedded in their traditions, stories, poetry, and whole way of life. Students of their way of life have been much impressed by the depth to which the dance has entered into their spirituality. The Pueblos dance for all the important com-munal needs and occasions of the year: spring planting, harvest-ing, feasts of the Catholic Church year, installation of their officials, hunting, and so forth. The very young and the very old participate by the hundreds in the most common of the dances, the Corn Dance. In times past the men in a pueblo spent a major portion of their lives in native religious duties. Such is not the case today because of changes in pueblo economy and ways of earning a liv-ing. It is virtually impossible today for a non-Pueblo person to examine their religious life closely enough to verify statements such as these. Pueblo secrecy concerning their indigenous reli-gious practices stems from two principal sources. There is a deep-rooted belief among them that "power talked about is power lost." Some of them tell how informants died soon after they had given away their power by divulging secrets to anthropologists. Secondly, resentment persists at the conduct of the church, the government, and anthropologists. Church and government tried to eradicate many Pueblo practices while anthropologists enhanced their professional reputations and finances by writing about guarded details of Pueblo life. Pueblo Nations states: "The traditional Pueblo framework still remains. However, judging from this writer's traditional upbringing, it is rapidly disintegrat-ing in the face of a new order and a new lifestyle." At the 1991 conference on Indian spirituality, a young Pueblo man suggested very tentatively that perhaps the Pueblos should open secret ceremonies to priests and sisters so that they might better understand the Pueblo people. An elderly woman, a devout Catholic, emphatically rejected this suggestion because the Pueblos would then have nothing that was just their own. At the 1992 conference Sister Jose Hobday, mindful of their reticence, urged them gently to share their gifts. Father Matthew Fox, among others, has indicated the type of dialogue, the type of interculturation, that could tak.e place between Indian cultures and the Catholic faith. Pueblo people 836 Review for Religious have told me, "He talks like an Indian." Fox advocates "panen-theism," which emphasizes that "God is in everything and every-thing is in God." He condemns the dualistic mentality that sets up a subject-object mentality leading to manipulation of other crea-tures, puts one's feelings against one's thoughts, and divides a per-son into body and soul. He prefers an approach to the universe based on the cycles of nature rather than on a "mythical state of perfection in the past." For dialogue to be truly intercul-turation, the Catho-lic Church needs to examine a number of important teach-ings in the light of Native American experience, espe-cially the role of Jesus and the mission of the church. Carl Starkloff expressed the need well: Christian Indians "seek. a deeper penetration of Christianity into areas where, because of the missionaries' lack of imagination or knowledge, the church has never gone." Jesus needs to be shown free of the overtones of Western cul-ture. That necessity has long been recognized, but much more needs to be done about it. In addition, among the Pueblo Indians, and probably others, the role of Jesus as savior meets obstacles. The traditional Pueblo view regards the hereafter as similar to life on earth and as generally independent of the good or evil a person has done in the here and now. This view seems to leave lit-tle room for repentance and reconciliation with a God who willed Christ's sacrifice on the cross. The traditional Indian sees evil as excess and imbalance for which each person answers to the com-munity. The Pueblos find it difficult to understand how the death of one person centuries ago could affect their chief obligations designed to bring food, well-being, harmony, and protection to the village. The church's mission to teach all nations puzzles many Native Americans. They believe that the Great Spirit has entrusted to For dialogue to be truly interculturation, the Catholic Church needs to examine a number of important teachings in the light of Native American experience, especially the role of Jesus and the mission of the church. Novonber-December 1992 837 Taufer ¯ Inculturation them beliefs that they are to adhere to and guard. He has done the same, they say, for other peoples because he understands their needs and environment, and so there is no point to or need for conversion. Interculturation is an ongoing process, and the quincentennial could stimulate a real dialogue between Native American culture and the Catholic faith, leading to a mutual transformation through clarifying the truth in each. It could also serve the cause of justice by giving both groups their due: respect for the persons involved and for the truth that is in them. As Max Warren has said, "Our first task in approaching another people, another culture, another religion, is to take off our shoes, for the place is holy; else . . . we may forget that God was there before our arrival." Dialogue obviously requires not only that we approach and arrive, but also that we be truly present among the people. I hear again and again from Native Americans--from Hispanics too-- that church ministers are not present among them, that we remain closed away in our convents, rectories, and offices. They regard our absence as a sign of an aloof and superior attitude. Respect for and presence among persons of another culture is essential to interculturation, whether that culture is different from our own because of race, nationality, economic level, religion, sex, or age. Bibliography Brown, Joseph Epes. The Spiritual Legacy of the American Indian. New York: Crossroad, 1982. Department of Education, U.S. Catholic Conference. Faith and Culture. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Catholic Conference, 1987. Starkloff, Carl T. The People of the Center: American Indian Religion and Christianity. New York: Paulist Press, 1974. 838 Review for Religious ALAN ALTANY Jewish-Catholic Dialogue since Vatican II Tmhe Second Vatican Council of the Roman Catholic Church arks for many people 'the .beginning of a significan~ change in the church's relati6ns with Jud.aism, a change away from excltisiveness and triumphalism to a more dialogic and apprecia-tive attitude towards Judaism as a living.and holy religious tradi-tion. From the Jewish point of view, this development has b~en seen as a beginning, but certainly not a completed process. It is the intention here not to discuss this ongoing dialogue chronologically up to the present, but to examine the nature of it, even the the-ology of it at times. It is important to emphasize how both Jews and Catholics approach the dialogue, bringing to it their own positions, and what dynamics the continuation of the dialogue will involve. From the historical record it is apparent that the Jewish peo-ple have been the victims of two millennia of persecution, oppres-sion, and capitai crime at the hands of Christians. The Jewish people know this s.tory and its trail'of wounds, but Catholics have too often ignored it; "ignorance of and negative attitudes toward the Jews permeate each on~ of us."~ As the Jewish writer Henry Siegmah has said, "Anti-Semitism from the first century to the twentieth century is a Christian creation and a Christian respon-sibility.'' 2 When one side of a dialogue has exercised political, social, and economic control over the other side for much of history, a Alan Altany is assistant professor of religious studies at Marshall University. His address is Department of Religious Studies; Marshall University; 400 Hal Greer Boulevard; Huntington, West Virginia 25755. November-DeceTnber 1992 839 Altany ¯ ffewisb-Catbolic Dialoffue buildup of trust is necessary if the dialogue is not to be taken by the minority side as a further means of control and domination. The Jewish people have had to face this problem in the context of suffering, for "no doubt the memory of Jewish suffering at the hands of the church makes it difficult for Jews to take as seriously as they should their own classical affirmation of the religious worth of Christianity.''3 One person who went a long way in developing the needed trust and love was Pope John XXIII, even though he died in 1963 before the council he had called was completed (1962-1965) and before the declaration on the Jewish religion was issued. The Jewish author Arthur Gilbert has written that "certainly no pope had communicated as clear and consistent an attitude of friend-ship toward the Jewish people and Judaism in all of history as had Pope John XXIII.''4 The very fact of dialogue can be considered an advance over earlier times, although not everyone agreed that there should be such communication or what the nature of it should be if it did occur. On the one hand there was the position of Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik, leader of the American Orthodox Jews: "Jews need not withdraw from cooperation on social problems, but there is no value at all in theological conversation, nor, for that makter, is such conversation possible.''s The conservative Catholic theolo-gians who wanted to maintain the old triumphalism in theology were also very skeptical of dialogue, for they felt they could gain little from it, having theologically denied the living worth of Judaism. Martin Buber has spoken about a different perspective on dia-logue, each group living in the heart of its own faith while appre-ciating the other: "It behooves both you [Christians] and us to hold inviolably fast to our own true faith, that is, to our own deepest relationship to truth. It behooves both of us to show a religious respect for the true faith of the other.''6 Another prominent Jewish thinker, Abraham Heschel, has also addressed the nature of dialogue, saying that we should not seek to expose the inner mystery of our faith to the other; rather, "the supreme issue is whether we are alive or dead to the challenge and expectation of the living God.''7 The Jewish perspective is emphasized here, for the church needs to see its historical perse-cution of Jews with great honesty; "while there are notable excep-tions . . . the history of the church's persecution of Judaism and 840 Review for Religious the Jewish people is even today not part of the consciousness of the church.''8 The dynamics of the dialogue are theologically and historically unique and must be understood. For a dialogue to be authentic, its participants must know the history both of the rel.ationship between Jews and Christians and of the anti-Semitism which has afflicted that encounter. Jews involved in the dialogue tend to emphasize this history of oppression whereas Christians have been inclined to focus upon the theological aspects of the relationship. From the time of the Vatican Council II, there has been a renewed look at the history of Jewish-Christian relations. Jews have wanted to remind Christians that to know this history is a moral responsibility because "the Christian experience of salvation has., been disconnected from the peo-plehood of Israel and the fate of the community of Israel through-out the ages.''9 There has been an abyss of Christian unawareness of the lived history of the Jewish community. The dialogue has caused the question to arise whether the interpretation of the Christian Scriptures needs some revision to remove ideas that, over the centuries, led to anti-Semitism. The Patristic period is important in this discussion, "for the [church] Fathers made no effort to understand the Judaism of their age on its terms, and certainly none to recognize in the Synagogue an authentic, if non-Christian, form of biblica! religion . The old wineskins cannot suffice. The new wine, flowing in the consciousness of post-Auschwitz theologians, must seek more suitable wineskins for its ferment.''~° Isolated and oppressed, the Jewish communities through the ages have been involved in a history of tragedy that deeply influ-ences the Jewish perspective on the dialogue. Rabbi Agus reminds us that "to put one community outside the pale of humanity as being at once charged with a metaphysical sin and condemned to an inscrutable fate is to lay the groundwork for the madness of mythological anti-Semitism." ~ Rosemary Ruether says it simply: "This very suppression of Jewish history and experience from 'The supreme issue is whether we are alive or dead to the challenge and expectation of the living God.' November-December 1992 841 Altany ¯ Jewish-Catholic Dialogue Christian consciousness is tacidy genocidal. What it says, in effect, is that Jews have no further right to exist after Jesus.''~z After becoming more familiar with the realities of history, the Christians in the dialogue have been confronted with Judaism as a living religion, a heritage of faith that does not define itself within Christian ~heological thought. This is at the very heart of the Catholic-Jewish discussion, for it says that the two religions, while sharing a unique relationship, are two separate religions that need to define themselves on their own terms, not on those of the other. Christians have had the major share of clarification to do here: "Christians must be ~ble to accept the thesis that it is not necessary for Jews to have the story about Jesus in order to have a foundation of faith and a hope for salvation.'''3 This amounts to Catholics realizing tha.t "Judaism can develop an inter gral self-definition without direct reference to. Christianity, while Christianity of nec.essity must include Judaism as a reference point in its self-definition.''~4 In the past a refusal or inability to see this reality has led Christian theologians to declare Judaism an essentially dead religion, serving only as a sterile witness to Christianity. The dialogue has brought this religious exclusivism into the light of criticism where it is understood' that Judaism can define itself without reference to Christianity: "Judaism does not usually define itself in relation to Christianity at all. Ra,ther, it represents an autonomous biblical religion which has passed through many stages, of growth quite independent of Christian assumptions concerning its character.''Is The Catholic Church's official statement on relations with Judaism is included in the council's Declaration on the Relationship of the Church to Non-Christian Religions.16 The final version was weakened in content from the original draft because of pressure from conservative bishops a.nd those bishops from Arab countries who said they feared reprisals against Christians in their countries if the statement was very strongly appreciative of Judai.sm's worth and herit.age. The major watering down of the statement was the decision not to include an explicit condemnation of charging the Jews with "deicide." !t was further criticized for a lack of penitential expression of Christian respon-sibility for persecution: "In vain does one search the Declaration of Vatican II for the slightest positive sign of Christian penite.nce. Because none is present, a.n opportunity of the century was betrayed.''~7 Another deficiency is noted by Henr~ Siegman, who 842 Review for Religious writes that "the failure of the Vatican Guidelines (1975)18 to deal with the theological dimension of the Jewish relationship to the land of Israel constitutes a grievous omission.''19 Yet Rabbi Siegman does say that the two major statements from the Vatican on relations with Jews signal a new spirit of respect and compas-sion that "bracket the past decade [ca. 1965-1975] like a set of bookends,''2° with the Declaration on Non- Christian Religions (Nostra Aerate) "marking a turning point in the history of the Catholic Church and the Jewish people.''2' The Guidelines, although a full decade passed before they were issued, speak more strongly than the conciliar statement about the vitality of Judaism when they state that "the history of Judaism did not end with the destruction of Jerusalem, but rather went on to develop a religious tradition . . . rich in religious values.''z2 We return here to our real theme, that the Jewish-Catholic dialogue must revolve around the realization that each tradition is a vital religion offering a path to God for its members. This recognition is also found in the statement of the U.S. bishops on Catholic-Jewish relations, where there is an exhorta-tion that homilists and liturgists "promote among the Catholic people a genuine appreciation of the special place of the Jewish people as God's first-chosen in the history of salvation and in no way slight the honor and dignity that is theirs,m3 The French bishops had issued in 1973 their own statement putting Nostra Aerate in a developmental perspective: "The posi-tion taken b.y, the Second Vaucan Councd should be considered a beginning rather than a final.achievement.''z4 This document goes on to demand Christian acceptance of the religious identity and spirituality of Judaism: "The Jewish people must not be looked upon by Christians as a mere social and historical reality, but most of all as a religious one; not as the relic of a venerable and finished past but as a reality alive through the ages.''25 The French bish-ops also said that, "far from envisaging the disappearance of the Jewish community, the church is in search of a living bond with 1t."26 A block to such a bond in the past has been the Christian focus of its relationship with Judaism on a theological level. By Each tradition is a vital religion offering a path to God for its members. Novernber-Decentber 1992 843 Altany ¯ Jewish-Catholic Dialogue that is meant a Christian theological perspective that saw no pres-ent validity in Judaism because Jews have not accepted Jesus as the Messiah. This has been coupled with the disasterously false accu-sation of "Christ killers" and the resultant "theology of curse," in which the Jews were thought to be cursed by God throughout the ages for their refusal to accept Jesus as the Jewish Messiah. The notion ofservitusJudaeorum, of Jews being destined to suf-fer always in this era of salvation history, grew very deep roots. Christians no longer related to Jews as to authentically religious people, but to a negative legend of Jewishness that arose from the dark depths and persistence of anti-Semitism. What has the Jewish-Catholic dialogue done to transform this situation? Discussions of the relation between Jews, Christians, and covenant took place. The French bishops said that "the First Covenant was not made invalid by the Second.''27 Monika Hellwig's attitude on this issue is that "living out the implications of contemporary theology may make Christians look a great deal more like Jews, and they may discover that they are after all one tree with them, rooted in the one covenant."z8 What is the relationship between the Jewish and the Christian covenant(s)? What does "chosen people" mean? What is the rela-tion between the church and Israel? These are theological ques-tions that are beyond the scope of this discussion, but they do suggest the need for a continuation of the dialogue into the 2 1st century and for ongoing theologizing to interpret past and present positions and to develop new insights and opportunities for deeper cooperation and dialogue. Coloring all of the discussions between Catholics and Jews are, and must be, the two pivotal realities for all Jews (and in a real sense for all Christians), the Holocaust and the founding of the modern state of Israel. In the consciousness of the Jewish partic-ipants, these realities have been constant factors determining the nature and direction of the dialogue itself. The deadly irony was that, by denying the living status of Judaism and of the Jewish people as still "chosen," the Christian churches down through history contributed to the brutal "choos-ing" of the Jews for persecution. This was the background for the evil of the Holocaust. Rabbi Agus speaks of an expanded under-standing of "chosen" when he says: "It seemed that there could be only one Chosen People, and all who were not so chosen would be cast into outer darkness. Today many of us interpret 'chosen- 844 Review for Religious ness' in the sense of an example, not of an exception. The greater the number of people covenanting with the Lord, the better.''29 The ages-long Christian exclusion of the Jews from the main-stream of Christian theological understanding, in the sense of refutingJudaism's authenticity as a living religion, built the foun-dations for persecutions, for the Holocaust. The Catholic John Pawlikowski has said that "Hitler and his collaborators could never have attained the heights they did if it were not for the centuries-long tradition of anti-Semitism in Christian theology and preaching.''3° The Holocaust is at the end of an ancient and tenaciously tri-umphalistic tradition of anti- Judaism and anti-Semitism. "The Holocaust acted out the church's fantasy that the Jews were a nonpeople, that they had no place before God, and that they should have disap-peared long ago by accepting Christ.''31 The Holocaust incorporates all the acts of hostility, barbarity, and fearsome hatred that Christians have enacted against the Jews over the centuries. Without such a historical founda-tion, it is very unlikely that the Holocaust could have been carried out by the pagan Nazis. The dialogue has encouraged a radical look at the Holocaust and has encouraged the incipient efforts to seek its meaning for Jews and all peoples. Rabbi Irving Greenberg sees the Holocaust as revealing an existential division within Christianity: "The redemption and revelation of Christianity is inescapably contra-dicted by the constellation of its classic understanding of Judaism.''32 This division within the Christian theological inter-pretations could, through wisdom and compassion in the dia-logue, be critically transformed. The dreadful absurdity of the Holocaust is portrayed by Rabbi Greenberg when he says that, "were Jesus and his mother alive in Europe in the 1940s, they would have been sent to Auschwitz.''33 Generations of Jews and Christians will have the responsi-bility to reflect upon its causes and meaning, although its mean- Coloring all of the discussions between Catholics and Jews are the two pivotal realities: the Holocaust and the founding of the modern state of Israel. November-December 1992 845 /litany ¯ Jewish-Catholic Dialogue ing escapes all logical analysis. From the Catholic viewpoint, the church must keep the Holocaust in its consciousness. Gregory Baum sees it as revelation that must be incorporated into the church's own understanding of itself, an encounter that is a turn-ing point for the church's vision of itself.34 The Holocaust is coupled in Jewish awareness with the found-ing of the modern state of Israel after World War II. It was men-tioned earlier that the Vatican Guidelines were criticized for their failure to address the vital relationship between the Jewish peo-ple and the land of Israel. The importance of this failure is high-lighted when the Jewish position is made clear that Israel rose from the ashes of the death camps: "Israel's faith in the God of History demands that an unprecedented event of destruction [the Holocaust] be matched by an unprecedented act of redemption, and this has happened [the establishment of the state of Israeli.''3s In the dialogue this Jewish attachment to a particular place has reminded Christians, who may overly tend toward abstract uni-versalisms, that people live in place and time, that their religious heritages are founded and developed within history. Christians have faith in the person of Jesus, not in some neutral, impersonal force. So, too, Jews regard Israel in a very personal and commu-nal way; it is the "place" of the people of the covenant and has a crucial role in the salvation of the people. "One Jewish scholar in an. address to a Christian audience said that 'for us Jews Israel is our Jesus.'''36 Israel remains a top-priority issue in the dialogue. Each one of the issues mentioned so far, such as covenant, the Holocaust, Israel, and the church documents could have been the topic for this whole discussion. However, they have been men-tioned briefly as the necessary foundation for the main purpose, to discuss the very core of the Jewish-Catholic dialogue, which is the awareness and appreciation of one's own faith and of the reli-gious tradition and faith of the other. From here we will deal with one of the main dialogic developments that may prove to be a means of drawing Jews and Catholics (and all Christians) into more theological communication in the future and of helping Jews and Christians address in solidarity the human task of being human. The development has to do with the interpretation of redemption and eschatology, that is, the final events of salvation history. Christians have always announced that the messianic age was here, that the kingdom of God was activated and present in Christ. Review for Religious The Jews have responded by pointing out the window at the suf-fering and evil still present in the world--so how could the mes-sianic times be here? It is on this point that the Jewish-Catholic dialogue has wrestled theologically, and we can look at some of the early results of that intimate and intense grappling. The French bishops have said: "Though Jews and Christians accomplish their vocation along dissimilar lines, history shows that their paths cross incessantly. Is not the messianic time their common concern?''37 For Jews Israel has a crucial role in the mes-sianic reality of building the kingdom of God through God's ini-tiation and responsive human participation. Israel became the center of the hope for messianic fulfillment for the Jews and all peoples. Rabbi Agus says that in Jewish awareness Israel is a "part of the universal messianic vision''38 and that "in modern Israel the ~fterglow of the messianic mystique is a potent reality, and Jews the world over respond to its perennial allure . ,,39 This was the expression of an "Israel-centered eschatology [that] favored the rebuilding of a Jewish state as a further step in the fulfillment of the messianic hope for all mankind.''4° "Fulfillment has become a centering point in the dialogue.''4~ It is fascinating that, in a relationship so often stained with blood (Jewish blood) in the past, a new relationship of compassion and plain humanity is being encouraged and formed through dis-cussion of the future and through eschatological theology: "This eschatological turn [new focus on eschatology by Christians] has brought the Church closer to the Synagtgue: both Jews and Christians now yearn for the messianic days when God will tri-umph over the power of darkness.''42 Rosemary Ruether speaks of unfulfilled and fulfilled redemp-tion. This approach opens doors for dialogue, including a look by Christians at what they mean by the parousia, the second com-ing of Christ. For Christians the present age is not yet completely fulfilled messianically, and the hope remains for a future fulfill-ment at Christ's return. In his introduction to Ruether's Faith and Fratricide, Gregory Baum addresses this future hope of fulfill-ment: ". the incompleteness of present redemption. Jesus is a significant beginning, an irreversible turning point, and a promise for future fu!fillment . The early Christians had a special vocab-ulary'for speaking about the unfinished character of the present redemption: they spoke of the second coming.''43 Pinchas Lapide and Hans Kiing engaged in a Jewish-Catholic November-December 1992 847 /litany ¯ Jewish-Catholic Dialogue dialogue, and a couple of their discussions are pertinent here, as well as displaying the warmth and humor necessary for dialogue to flourish. First K~ing, the Catholic: "We would also agree with you in this decisive argument which is continually raised by Jews against the Christian message: that redemption in the sense of consummation is not yet truly present . lit is] in this sense [that] Jesus Christ . . . announced this kingdom.''44 Lapide, the Jew, later said: "You are waiting for the parousia; with you, too, the fullness of the redemption is still in the future; I await its coming, but the second coming is also a coming. If the Messiah comes and then turns out.to be Jesus of Nazareth, I would say that I do not know of any Jew in this world who would have anything against it.''4s It is significant that Jews and Catholics can agree that redemp-tion will be further realized and fulfilled in the future through the revealed and mysterious action of a saving God, as shown by their acknowledgment that "the eschatological tension has not been resolved. What may be expected in the messianic fulfillment has not yet become manifest in the world . The messianic event should be seen as lengthy, complex, unfinished, and mys-terious." 46 For the Catholic Church, theologizing in this way can open up directions for and development of a theology of, and for the purpose of, dialogue with Judaism. Such a theology can help to melt the religious exclusivity and transform triumphalism into cooperation. The Christian can remain Christian and not suc-cumb to some kind of syncretism or eclecticism, while still seeing that God graces all humanity. The old "no salvation outside the church" (extra ecclesiam nulla salus) used as a weapon for con-demning all non-Catholics becomes an historical relic that can be buried. Our age is a time of new openings for dia!ogue among religions, and people begin to see more clearly that God's love touches, all human beings: "Since the divine redemption is not finished in Jesus, except by way of anticipation, the church is not the unique vehicle of grace: room remains in world history for other ways of grace, for many religions, and in particular for the other biblical faith, for Judaism.''47 Of course, Jews do not need to be told that Judaism is a vehicle of God's grace, but it helps for Christians, too, to have this understanding. So we return here to what was stated at the beginning, that the dialogue needs to be conducted with mutual appreciation Of each 848 Review for Religious other's religion, with special emphasis given, because of the his- .torical realities, to a Christian awareness of Judaism as a living and holy religious heritage. In looking at the Church's Guidelines document, Rabbi Siegman has written that "the Guidelines are the first Catholic document on the highest level of authority that view Judaism as a rich and vital religious movement in the period following the rise of Christianity as well [that is, not only in pre- Christian, patriarchal times]."qs Then in 1985 the Vatican's Commission for Religious Relations with the Jews pub!ished a document called "The Jews and Judaism in Preaching and Catechesis," Without such awareness by Catholics that Judaism has been and continues to be a living religious tradition, there could be no dialogue at all. But a change in the negative momentum of two millennia begins as Catholicism sees that God comes to the Jews through the Jewish religion, that God does hear the prayers of the Jews. Baum has said it clearly: "God continues to operate in the Jewish people. Christians must regard the Jewish re!igion as an authentic, God-inspired, supernatural worship of the one'true God.''49 History must be remembered; Jews and Catholics must remember and must envision new possibilities. Auschwitz and hope must be permanent parts of consciousness. For just as "no Jew is likely to forget Auschwitz, . . . no Christian can afford to blot its horror from his memory, for theology, like history, has changed its character, and nothing can reverse the situation.''s° By studying the traditions of rabbinic Judaism and learning the teachings of the Jewish sages, Catholics can be enriched; they can discover this living wisdom and faith. By taking a fresh look at Jesus and by studying the Christian sages of spirituality, Jews can be enriched; they can discover this living wisdom and faith. For Christians Jesus himself is their Jewish point of contact for "Jesus the Jew thought as a Jew, loved as a Jew, . . . suffered as a Jew, and died a Jew. It is impossible to understand Jesus without under-standing his Jewish concept of God's people and of God's covenant with his people.''51 The dialogue is thus not simply a work for small groups of A theology can help melt religious exclusivity and transform triumphalism into cooperation. November-December 1992 849 Altany ¯ Jewish.-Catholic Dialogue theologians. It has become part of the religious atmosphere, a process that surely is still at an early stage of progress. Yet steadily, implicitly or explicitly, the dialogue has meaning. Rabbi Siegman has said: "Given his or her own self-understanding, the Christian cannot avoid being confronted by the persistence 6f a living, thriv-ing Judaism. That living reality poses for the Christian the ques-tion of ultimate truth, and that is what makes the dialogue necessary and compelling.''52 And the dialogue demands action, especially from Catholics as they reconceive history. How can there re.ally be dialogue if there is an absence of genuine Catholic repentanc.e? How can the dialogue continue into the future with-out moral reconciliation? "Professor [Friedrich] Heer [a Catholic] asks: 'How is this church of ours to answer, today and tomorrow and the day after, for what she has done over these two thousand years to Jesus the Jew, to his people, to mankind, and to herself?.' V~e must confess our sin; we must ask God's forgiveness and that of the world community of Israel. But we must also perform deeds of reconciliation.''53 The time is now past when the facts about persecution of Jews by Christians over the course of history, facts deeply infused in Jewish experience, can be absent from Christian conscious-ness. Any claim to ignorance of such tragedies has no more excuse. Contemporary Jewish and Catholic theologies need to be devel-oped in the burning reality and memory of the Holocaust. M1 of this means that the dialogue demands radical reformation and compassion; Jews and Catholics mus~ recognize in each other a witness to God's saving love: "To be a b!essing unto people and a light unto nations is to be Israel. Toward that vocation both Christians and Jews feel themselves called. May we be worthy of our name.''54 Notes ~ Eugene Fisher, Faith Without Prejudice (New York: Paulist Press, 1977), p. 14. "[That] the church can understand its own nature only in dia-logue with a living Judaism is literally breathtaking to one who knows the history of the dark days of suspicion and polemics" (p. 27). 2 Henry Siegman, "A Decade of Catholic-Jewish Relations: A Reassessment," Journal of Ecumenical Studies 15, no. 2 (spring 1978): 249. 3 Ibid, p. 254. 4 Arthur Gilbert, The Vatican Council and the Jews (Cleveland: Word Publishing Co., 1968), p. 85. 850 Review for Religious s lbid, p. 125. 6 Ben Zion Bokser, Judaism and the Christian Predicament (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1967), p. 377. 7 Siegman, "A Decade of Catholic-Jewish Relations," p. 246. 8 Ibid, p. 248. 9 Monika Hellwig, "From the Jesus of Story to the Christ of Dogma," in Anti-Semitism and the Foundations of Christianity, Alan T. Davies, ed. (New York: Paulist Press, 1979), p. 126. 10 Alan T. Davies, Anti-Semitism and the Christian Mind (New York: Herder & Herder, 1969), p. 90. 1~ Jean Dani~lou, Dialogue with Israel (Baltimore: Helicon, 1968), p. 121. Rabbi Jacob Agus wrote a response to the views of Dani~lou in the book. 12 Rosemary Ruether, Faith and Fratricide (New York: Seabury Press, 1974), p. 258. 13 Ibid, p. 256. ~4 John Pawlikowski, "The Contemporary Jewish-Christian Theological Dialogue Agenda," Journal of Ecumenical Studies 11, no. 4 (fall 1974): 608. "Despite their shared biblical heritage and other simi-larities, Judaism and Christianity are essentially distinct religions, each one emphasizing different but complementary aspects of our religious dimen-sion" (p. 605). is Davies, Anti-Semitism and the Christian Mind, p. 104. 16 The very phrase "non-Christian religions" gives a sense of at least implicit exclusivism. ~7 A. Roy Eckardt, Your People, My People (New York: New York Times Book Co., 1974), p. 51. 18 The council statement was issued in 1965, while "Guidelines and Suggestions for Implementing the Conciliar Declaration Nostra Aestate" (n. 4) was issued in 1975 by the Vatican Commission for Religious Relations with the Jews. 19 Siegman, "A Decade of Catholic-Jewish Relations," p. 251. 20 Henry Siegman, "An Overview of Christian-Jewish Relations," Jewish Digest 20, no. 9 (June 1976): 66. "There seems to have been no comparable developments of similar import for Christian-Jewish rela-tions during this entire decade in Protestant and Orthodox Christianity" (p. 66). 2, Ibid, p. 69. 22 Guidelines, 1975. 23 "Statement on Catholic-Jewish Relations by the U.S. National Conference of Catholic Bishops," November 1975, in Stepping Stones to FurtherJewish-Christian Relations, ed. Helga Croner (New York: Stimulus Books, 1977), p. 34. 24 Ibid, p. 60. "Statement by the French Bishops Committee for Relations with Jews," April 1973. November-December 1992 851 Altany ¯ Jewish-Catholic Dialogue 25 Ibid, p. 61. 26 Ibid, p. 64. 27 Ibid, p. 62. 28 Monika Hellwig, "Christian Theology and the Covenant of Israel," Journal of Ecumenical Studies 7, no. 1 (winter 1970): 51. 29 Dani6lou, Dialogue with lsrael, p. 113. 30 Pawlikowski, "Contemporary Jewish-Christian Agenda," p. 613. 31 Gregory Baum, "Catholic Dogma after Auschwitz," Anti-Semitism and the Foundations of Christianity, ed. Alan T. Davies (New York: Paulist Press, 1979), p. 142. "The church's negation of Jewish existence before God created symbols and produced an atmosphere in which it was pos-sible for Hitler to make the Jews a scapegoat for the ills of society, and count on much popular support for his anti-Semitic campaigns" (p. 139). 32 Irving Greenberg, "New Revelations and New Patterns in the Relationship of Judaism and Christianity," Journal of Ecumenical Studies 16, no. 2 (spring 1979): 257. "Never again should official badge or pro-fessed religious belief allow murderers to escape condemnation and excommunication or allow victims to be excluded from the circle of humanity. Surrendering religious exclusivism or triumphalism is a crucial moral step" (p. 260). 33 Ibid, p. 258. 34 Baum, "Catholic Dogma after Auschwitz," p. 141. 3s Greenberg, "New Revelations and New Patterns," p. 263. 36 Pawlikowski, "Contemporary Jewish-Christian Agenda," p. 599. 37 Croner, Stepping Stones to Further Jewish-Christian Relations, p. 65. 38 Jacob Agus, "Israel and Jewish-Christian Dialogue," Journal of Ecumenical Studies 6, no. 1 (1969): 31. 39 Ibid. 40 Ibid, p. 18. 41 Ibid. 42 Baum, in Davies, ed., Anti-Semitism and the Foundations of Christianity, p. 147. 43 Ruether, Faith and Fratricide, p. 17. ~ Hans K~ing and Pinchas Lapide, "Is Jesus a Bond or Barrier? A Jewish-Christian Dialogue," Journal of Ecumenical Studies 14, no. 3 (summer 1977): 480. 45 Ibid, p. 482. 46 Hellwig, "Christian Theology and the Covenant of Israel," pp. 49-50. 47 Baum, in Ruether, Faith and Fratricide, p. 18. "Because Christianity proclaims an unfilled messianism, the church is not the only instrument that serves the coming of the final kingdom: there is room for other vehi-cles of grace" (p. 203). 48 Siegman, "A Decade of Catholic-Jewish Relations," p. 258. 852 Review for Religious 49 Gilbert, Vatican Council and the Jews, p. 207. "Today we encounter the divinely inspired tradition of a living Judaism as a tradition, like our own, 'rich in religious value'" (Fisher, Faith Without Prejudice, p. 7). so Davies, Anti-Semitism and the Christian Mind, p. 190. Sl Friedrich Heer, "The Catholic Church and Jews Today," Midstream 17, no. 5 (May 1971): 26. s2 Siegman, "A Decade of Catholic-Jewish Relations," p. 245. s3 Eckardt, Your People, My People, p. 250. s4 Gilbert, Vatican Council and the Jews, p. 242. Crib Chiaroscuro Always, by distance of darkness, You lay far as a star away. Always, the darkness was the gentle despair of knowing You were there, Your haloed-hair glowing against brown, slatted wood, but that I could not bridge that black of my own love-lack. Then, at my midnight moment of clarity when the sky of my spirit was spun by the sweet suddenness of Your smile to a cosmic charity-~even then I could not come near it, the crib reeling with a radiance too concealing. But now, dimmer than daystar at dawn, the crib is a pale glimmer of grace obscurity framing Your face and Your purity. I touch the Intangible. Marilyn Eynon Scott November-December 1992 853 PAUL F. HARMAN The Media and the Good News Raymond Carver, the widely acclaimed short-story writer from the Northwest who died just two years ago, gave one of his stories the title "Where I'm Calling From." Let me begin these remarks about formation and the communica6ons apostolate by telling you "where I'm call-ing from." In 1984 John O'Brien SJ, who was then the commu-nication secretary in the Roman curia of the Society of Jesus, wrote a position paper on "Jesuit Formation in Social Communication." He proposed introducing a com-munications component at every stage of the Society's for-mation process and sketched this out in some detail. His proposal met with only polite interest. Talking with Jack a few years later in Rome, I felt he was disappointed that there had not been more enthusiasm. Yet when I reread his proposal recently, it was clear that many of his recom-mendations had, in fact, found their way into the Jesuit formation program in the United States. Moreover, when Father Peter-Hans Kolvenbach, the superior general of the Society of Jesus, gave his "State of the Society" address to the provincials gathered at Loyola in 1991, he was able to report that "formation in communication for all Paul E Harman SJ is the Secretary for Formation for the Jesuit Conference in the United States. This article is the substance of an address he gave in Denver on 2 August 1992 to JESCOM, an association of Jesuits and their fellow workers in communi-cations apostolates. He can be addressed at Suite 300; 1424 16th Street N.W.; Washington, D.C. 20036. 854 Review for Religious scholastics is now becoming a fairly regular occurrence." The Jesuit major superiors of Africa and Madagascar, for example, have given their approval for an integrated program of training in communication covering the whole of Jesuit formation from novi-tiate to ordination. There is no lack of very clear and specific communications from all quarters about what formation should and should not be doing. In April 1992 the pope issued the official papal response to the 1990 Synod of Bishops on priestly formation. In November 1992 the U.S. bishops are looking at the fourth edition of "The Program for Priestly Formation," the document which is nor-mative for all seminaries and religious houses of priestly forma-tion in the United States; the revisions have taken almost two ~ears of committee work and gone through several drafts. Over the past eight years I have read at least forW pastoral letters, major addresses, and Roman documents--all published in Origins--on the identity, formation, education, spirituality, and ministry of priests. And, of course, there are the more controversial writings on Jesuit formation past, present, and future: Frank Houdek's "T.h.e Road Too Often Traveled,''1 Peter McDonough's Men Astutel.y Trained,2 and Joseph Becker's The Re-Formed Jesuits, vol-ume 1.3 (The latter two works, ~hough from different perspec-tives, look back with more than a little nostalgia to an older formation program and raise questions about the 9hanges intro-duced by the Second Vatican Council and General Congregations 31 and 32 of the Society.) If eight years ago formation personnel did not rush to imPle-ment every recommendation in Jack O'Brien's position paper, it was not for any lack of interest in or commitment to the com-munications apostolate. Rather it was because then, as now, those responsible for formation--perhaps this has always been and always will be the case--were concerned about "overload." The formation period is both too long .and too short. The list of all that needs to be accomplished in the space of the formation years g~'ows and grows and grows. There are, first of all, the "basics": formation in religious life, in community,, and in the spirituality of the order or congregation; introduction to its history, its traditions, and its varied aposto-lates. 'The essential academic studies of philosophy and theology demand large amounts of time as do the study of language, history, art, science, literature, economics, and psychology. And--along November-December 1992 855 Harman ¯ The Media and the Good News the way--issues of community life, interpersonal relationships, psychosexual development, addictions, and family disorders may need to be addressed. Can we do more in formation in the years between the novi-tiate and final profession? Of course we can, and we will because the times and circumstances demand it of us. Could we do for-mation, differently, so that it is not simply a matter of adding more and more components to a process that is al~'eady very long, con-sidering that the average entrance age is 26? Perhaps. There are always efforts in that direction. After eight years of looking at formation at close range, I am more and more inclined to think that we need to put less empha-sis on formation and more emphasis on mission. In doing so, we might discover that, in formation, less is definitely more. I was in the Far East earlier this year and met some of the novices and scholastics there; they were, on the average, about the same age as our novices and scholastics (that is, late twen-ties), generous, eager, intelligent, self-posses~ed, many of them with stories that I will not easily forget (as is true of our own entering novices in the United States). I listened intently to the discussions of formation issues in Korea, Indonesia, China, Vietnam, Japan, and Singapore, but I kept asking myself the same question that I ask here in the United States: Do we expect too much of formation? In my notebook I wrote: "Enough of forma-tion! Just ~et them free to become saints and martyrs. Mother Teresa says, 'Do something beautiful for God.' Here at home the Nike ads tell us, 'Just do it!'" So that is "where I'm calling from." Having said that we should talk less about formation and more about mission, let me say something about mission and the com-munications apostolate. If someone were to ask me to list the places in the text of the Exercises from which Jesuits over the centuries have drawn par-ticular energy and motivation for their lives, one of the first texts I would point to is §106 in the first contemplation of the first day of the Second Week. In this contemplation'on the incarnation, St. Ignatius proposes that the exercitant "see" all the people on the face of the earth "in such great diversity in dress and in manner of acting. Some are white, some black; some at peace, and some 856 ~Review for Religious at war; some weeping, some laughing, some well, some sick, some coming into the world, and some dying . " Put very simply, the exercitant is invited to look at the masses, not with the dis-passionate eye of the statistician or social scientist, but with the loving gaze of the Trinity. It is almost fifty years since a special Labor Day Weekend me~ting at West Baden, Indiana, of some 200 Jesuits gathered to assess the situation of the Society vis-a-vis the social situation in the United States. Peter McDonough makes much of this 1943 assembly in his book Men Astutely Trained. Unfortunately, there was nothing like JESCOM around then, but Father Dan Lord, who knew a thing or twO about the media, spoke forcefully aboui: reaching the masses, noting in passing that the Communist party in the United States showed more zeal in this respect than did the Society. (Jesuits seemed to rely more on the "trickle down" theory--focus-ing principally on the educational apostolate.) Many religious congregations, now more than ever, are becoming aware of a mission to reach the many, the masses, as well as the few. How do religious communities--all of us, not just those in formation--take i'esponsibility for this mission? Let me concentrate on one part of the mission, naniely, the Catholic masses. The Official Catholic Directory puts the number of bap-tized Roman Catholics in flae United States at almost 60 million; we are nearly one-fourth of the total population, and we are an increasingly diverse group. It has been said that Roman Catholics are now the only major religious denomination that truly has everybody in it. Now that is a mission with some challenge! Of the 60 million Catholics, 15 millionwa fourth of the Catholic population--are "inactive." Eighteen million Catholics have not attended Mass in any given month. The level of educa-tion among U.S. Catholics has risen dramatically in the last gen-eration and is actually slightly higher than the average national statistics; but young Catholics, for the

Issue 28.6 of the Review for Religious, 1969. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard. S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor,.as well as books for review, should be sent to I~VIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 631o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 32~ Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Dt, imty of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building, .539 North Grand Boulevard, Saint Lores, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright (~) 1969by REVIEW FOg REmnlous at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. 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; other 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 accom-panied by a remittance, should be sent to REVIEW FOR 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 RELIGIOUS ; 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. NOVEMBER 1969 VOLUME 28 NUMBER 6 BROTHERS THOMAS MORE, C.F.X:, AND LEO RYAN, C.S.V. Development: A New Challenge to Religious In a majority of the articles written these days in religious journals, the emphasis has been largely on areas which are of great concern for those seeking ways to achieve renewal and adaptation in the religious life. As a result, new and valuable insights have been gained in such areas as government, the evangelical counsels, prayer, community, personal responsibility, the aposto-late, secularization, and formation. There is, however, one significant movement which has yet to be fully treated in journals written for re-ligious. And because this movement could elicit from the religious families in the Church a response corre-sponding to that which characterized the great move-ments in the past, we want to draw the attention of religious to this phenomenon so that it" can become a + growing part of the literature on renewal and adapta- + tion. This movement can best be described as development. Because development is still more or less in its infancy stage, only gradually emerging into a full-blown move-ment in society and in the Church, it is not our in-tention to give here a definition of the term. Instead, we want to describe a number of events and programs which will illustrate not only the potential dynamism of de-velopment but also the implications which it has for religious institutes. On January 6, 1967, Paul VI issued the motu proprio Catholicam Christi Ecclesiam setting up the Pontifical Justice and Peace Commission. The objective of this Commission would be "to arouse the people of God to 869 Thomas More, C.F.X., is superior general of the Xa-verian Brother~; Antonio Bosio 5; 00161 Rome, Italy. Leo Ryan, C.$.V., is general councilor of the Viatorian Fath-ers and Brothers; Via Sierra Nevada 60; 00144 Rome, Italy. VOLUME 2B, 1969 + 4. 4. Brothers More and Ryan REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS full awareness of its mission at the present time, in order on the one hand, to promote the progress of poor nations and encourage international social justice, and on the other, to help underdeveloped nations to work for their own development." 1 Shortly after establishing this new curial organ, Paul VI issued his famous encyclical, Populorum progressio, which is the charter of the Pontifical Commission and its basic text. The call of the encyclical is to all the Church, which is to be educated, stimulated, and in-spired to action by it. Cardinal Maurice Gilroy of Quebec, president of the Pontifical Commission, and Monsignor Joseph Gremil-lion, its secretary, set about the arduous task of travel-ing throughout the world to create national commis-sions for justice and peace witkin bishops' corr[erences. After this work had been completed, the commission turned to the Union of Superiors General in Rome to solicit its support. Monsignor Joseph Gremillion per-sonally addressed the Union, urging it to establish con-tact with the Commission and to take an active role in the promotion of the aims of development within all the religious families of the Church. in May, 1968, the Union unanimously approved the writers of this article as its official liaison with the Pontifical Commis-sion. Now that the liaison committee has been in existence for one year, it is in a position to discern a number of trends which indicate the response religious institutes will make to development in the immediate future. The remainder of this paper will be devoted to an elabora-tion of these trends and a brief description of the more important programs from which these trends have is-sued. At the present time we see four trends in development which have significant implications for religious insti-tutes. It is very dear now that development has an ecumenical character. Second, because of the nature of development, religious institutes will be looking for- 1Father. Arthur McCormack makes the following clarification: "The name Justice and Peace must be understood in the following way: Justice means social justice within and between nations so that every human being should have conditions of life in keeping with his human dignity, which will enable him to progress towards a fully human development--to the fullness of a more abundant life~ and enable him also to make his contribution to building a new and better world. Peace is to be understood, not in the sense of main-raining peace or working for peace in the political or diplomatic sense, but in the sense of building peace--the new name for peace is development--producing the conditions that are fundamental for peace, a more just, humane, better world in accordance with para. 76 of the Encyclical, Populorum Progressio" ("The Pontifical Com-mission Justice and Peace," World Justice, v. 8 (1967), pp. 435-55). ward to training specialists in planning, sociology, tech-nology, and social justice. Towards this end, some re-ligious institutes are establishing within their general administration a secretariat for development, Third, there is a growing spirit of collaboration within re-ligious institutes, since it is evident that no religious family can tackle the problems with its own resources. Finally, there is a search for a new theology of develop-ment. 1. Ecumenical Character oI Development In the spring of 1968, the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace, the Catholic .Rural Life Society, under the direction of Monsignor Luigi Liguitti, SEDOS, FERES, and ISS2 sponsored a two-day seminar on the Church in developing countries at the theologate of the Oblates of Mary, Rome. This seminar was arranged specifically for superiors general and their curias to acquaint them with development. However, interest in the meeting was so great that it turned out to be a cross-section of some of the most important European bodies having a Third World orientation. At the meet-ing were representatives from several Roman Congrega-tions, the German mission-sponsoring agencies Adveniat and Misereor, Caritas Internationalis, Protestant ~6b-servers, sociologists, and a number of developing organi-zations from Italy, France, Germany, Belgium, and Hol-land. The Catholic-Protestant team under the direction of Canon Houtart (FERES) and Professor Egbert de Vries (ISS) gave the audience a report of their three-year Ford-funded study of the Churches' work in the four developing countries of India, Brazil, Indonesia, and the Cameroons, in the areas of education, medicine, and social work.3 But of far greater importance than any of the socio-logical findings of the three-year study of FERES-ISS was the ecumenical character of the study and the seminar. The meeting was tangible evidence of the growing spirit of collaboration between the Catholic Church and the World Council of Churches, especially in an area which was once the most sensitive one in ~SEDOS (Servizio di Documentazione e Studi) is a cooperative documentation and research venture on the part of about thirty superiors general in Rome. FERES (Federation Internationale des Instituts Catholiques de Recherches Socio-religieuses) is the inter-nationally well-known research center in Brussels. ISS (Institute for Social Studies) is the Protestant counterpart of FERES and is lo-cated at The Hague. 8 A report of this seminar has been published by SEDOS under the title, The Church in Developing Countries;.Via dei Verbiti, 1; Rome, Italy. ÷ ÷ Development VOLUME 28, 1969 871 4" 4" Brothers More and Ryan REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the past--the developing countries. It is not surprising, then, that one of the most important conclusions ac-cepted by the superiors general was that cooperation between the different denominations be extended. Moving quickly from theory to action, the superiors general of several congregations devoted to medicine shortly after the seminar entered into discussions with the Christian Medical Commission, a semi-auton-omous organism related to the World Council of Churches. As a result of a number of meetings between Mr. J. McGilvray of the Executive Committee of the CMC, Geneva, and these religious congregations, the CMC Executive Committee reached the important con-sensus this past March that five Roman Catholic con-sultants would be appointed to the Commission after nomination by the Secretariat for the Promotion of Christian Unity. These consultants were present at the Commission's general assembly in August of this year. A third example of ecumenical cooperation in de-velopment is of far greater significance, since it was mounted on a larger international stage. In 1967 the World Council of Churches and the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace formed the E~ploratory Committee on Society, Development and Peace (SODEPAX) as an experimental instrument for ecumenical collaboration. Father George H. Dunne, S.J., formerly of Georgetown University, was appointed by Dr. Eugene Carson Blake and Cardinal Maurice Roy as joint secretary of this committee. SODEPAX held a conference in April, 1968 on world cooperation for development in Beirut, Lebanon, to which it invited sixty specialists from all over the world. The participants were Protestants, Orthodox, Catholics, observer-consultants from intergovernmen-tal bodies, and two participants from the Muslim com-munity of Lebanon.4 The conference was the first attempt on the part of the World Council of Churches and the Roman Catholic Church to jointly study and plan the involve-ment of the Christian bodies for the betterment of society. It is a concrete example of the way churches will unite their moral forces towards achieving human dig-nity and world peace. One of the conclusions of the meeting states this objective in terms which make an appeal to all religious: This Report has suggested many ways in which the Churches, acting together, can foster development programs both in ¯ A report of this conference has been published under the title, World Development, the Challenge to the Churches; Publications Department; The Ecumenical Center; 150 Route de Ferney; Geneva, Switzerland. the advanced and developing countries. Joint action for de-velopment will serve basic Christian aims. To work for devel-opment is to express in particular measures the aspiration for brotherhood and human dignity for every individual. And it can also be a significant contribution toward a more orderly and peaceful world. Development can gradually reduce the gross imbalances which promote instability; working together can encourage a wider sense of community among mankind; and the strengthening of international agencies will create structures for common effort and order. These three examples of ecumenical collaboration in the field of development are growing evidences of the need for all religious institutes to work together with other Christian bodies to concert their actions for play-ing their part in the long task of building a more stable international order of well-being and peace for the whole human family. This ecumenical spirit should be built into the thinking and planning of general and provincial chapters, constitutions, formation programs, and the apostolic work of religious families. It should also be the concern of national conferences of re-ligious institutes. The work is of too vast proportions to be left to the interest of those few religious who have up until now been involved in development. 2. Specialists and International Vocation The second trend in development in religious com-munities is the deployment of personnel to act as specialists in the Third World, along with the estab-lishment within general curias of a secretariat for de-velopment. Shortly after the seminar on the Church in develop-ing countries, Misereor approached the superiors general with an offer to provide funds for the training of some specialists who would assist bishops' conferences in de-veloping countries in setting up offices of trained experts in planning. The offer came as a result of the dis-cussions at the seminar concerning the lack of the skills of planning for the proper deployment of dwin-dling personnel, the retooling of personnel for meeting the new needs of the day, and the necessity for co-operating with governments in national planning. The time had come, it was agreed, for religious com-munities to become deeply involved in this modern approach and to train experts who would have com-petency as well as apostolic zeal. After many months of discussions with the superiors general, Misereor agreed early this year to provide funds for the training of highly qualified development experts for the countries of Indonesia, East Africa, and the Congo. Other countries would be added as the pool of experts becomes larger. As the agreement was finally 4, 4, Development VOLUME 28, 1969 873 Brothers More ¯ and Ryan REVIEW FOR ~ELIGIOUS worked out, the funds are in the form of a scholarship for 'the trairiing of experts in the fields of social ac-tion, science, communication, cooperatives, trade unions, medicine, agriculture, and technology. These experts would be seconded to central advisory and coordinat-ing bodies in the selected countries and would devote themselves specifically to the analysis of the problems, the planning of a strategy, and the coordination of pro-grams with national planning. This new type of service would be rendered by the religious ~ommunities only at the invitation of interested bishops' conferences of one of the three countries. This proposal clearly indicates that as the religious communities become more involved in social action, they will need more experts in this field. It also be-comes increasingly clear that religious congregations will now turn their efforts towards promoting and edu-cating a corps of highly qualified men and women who will act not for their individual communities alone but in teams for ihe good o[ society. This task force con-cept of highly competent religious from different in-stitutes could be the most dramatic response of religious congregations to the challenges provided in the Third World. From what we have just said, it is evident that re-ligious will have to respond more promptly and in-telligently to what we would call the apostolate of internationalism. To act as specialists in the Third World, to become globally involved in development, re-llgious will be entering more actively into what Barbara Ward calls our planetary community, a community which. cuts across all the lines and barriers of nations and races. In such a community, religious ought to feel very much at home, especially since the vision of all founders of religious communities extended beyond the hori-zons of a particular country or culture. That spirit which inspired founders to send their men and women to meet the needs of mankind in all parts of the world must now impel their followers to send trained and competent personnel to participate in international bodies which are working to achieve the humaniza-tion' of mankind. This apostolic thrust could be as dramatic and far-reaching as the missionary journey of Francis Xavier to the Indies. There are a number of religious currently engaged in this international apostblate. Those we have met or know of are: Father John Schutte, S.V.D., who was recently appointed by Pope Paul as assistant to Mon-signor Joseph Gremillion, Secretary of the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace; Father Arthur Mc- Cormack, M.H.M., special consultant to the same Com-mission; Father Philip Land, S.J., Gregorian University, Rome; Father George H. Dunne, s.J., SODEPAX Joint Secretary, Geneva; Father Thomas F. Stransky, C.S.P., Secretariat for Promotion of Christian Unity; Mother Jane Gates, Superior General of the Medical Missionary Sisters, who is working with the World Council of Churches in the field of medicine; and Father Theodore M. Hesburgh, C.S.C. The first indication we have of a religious institute becoming serious about development and the promo-tion of the international apostolate is the derision of Father Pedro Arrupe, superior general of the Jesuits, to establish a secretariat for development within the curia of his general administration. Father Francis Ivern has been appointed by Father Arrupe to head this secretariat. Similar offices could be set up in many of the larger congregations of men and women. In the case of smaller units, it is quite possible that interested and competent religious could be, as a matter of policy, trained to take their place in general curias. Others could be as-signed to work on task forces, national bishops' con-ferences, international or national research centers, na-tional conferences of religious, and the pontifical or the national conferences of justice and peace. 3. Spirit of Collaboration It is quite evident from what has been said above that there is growing within religious congregations and institutes a greater spirit of collaboration to make the response called for by Populorum progressio and the objectives of the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace. Since the work of development is of such gigantic proportions, no one rellgious institute can unilaterally plan its involvement in it. No one individual religious, or even a cadre of them, can shoulder the heavy re-sponsibility of this new apostolate. It must be the work of all religious, or the efforts for the humanization of mankind will be considerably weakened. One model of collaboration already exists in Rome. It is an organization to which we have already re-ferred many times, namely, SEDOS. This voluntary organization of a number of superiors general, formed only six years ago on the initiative of a few missionary congregations, has in a short time given proof of the results that can flow ~om the spirit of collaboration. Within a span of just one year, for imtance, SEDOS has held a seminar on development, a symposium on the theology of development and mission, and a con-÷ ÷ ÷ Developme~ VOLUME 28, 1969 875 Brotmheurl s. RM~oarne REVIEW FOR.RELIGIOUS terence on intermediate technology. As noted already, it has worked out an agreement with Misereor to finance the education of a number of specialists for developing countries. It is also actively engaged in es-tablishing guidelines for a mutual exchange of ideas between the World Council of Churches and medical missionary congregations in the field of medicine. SEDOS is unique in a number of ways. Its member-ship consists of both men and women religious. Its ex-ecutive secretary is Father Benjamin Tonna, a secular priest from Malta, who is a professional sociologist. The director is Miss Joan Overboss, a multilingual expert from Holland. But its uniqueness lies principally in its spirit of co-operation among the superiors general in facing the new problems evolving from the Third World. Since there was no structure among religious institutes or in any Roman curial congregation to help religious fami-lies prepare themselves for their involvement in the work of development, superiors general united their forces to establish a documentation and research center which would enable them to convert from a family business to a modern and efficient concern. Thus, for the first time in the Church's history, religious congre-gations have banded together at the highest level to make their contribution in an area in which the Church in recent years has focused its principal at-tention. This same spirit of collaboration is evident in such countries as the Congo and Indonesia, where religious are working together with bishops' conferences in es-tablishing planning secretariats. Quite recently we read an appeal by the East African conference of religious to its membership to turn itself to the question of de-velopment and to form a task force that would assist the bishops' conferences in establishing a secretariat for development. If religious congregations are to involve themselves in this apostolate, this spirit of cooperation must con-tinue to grow. Many religious want to see their in-stitutes take decisive measures to execute the social objectives of Populorum progressio and to work actively to achieve the goals of the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace. The younger generation of religious also want to become actively engaged in working to create conditions within and between nations that are in keeping with the human dignity of man. But they need some concrete programs to give them direction. As a step towards establishing some programs, con-ferences of religious and individual institutes could give attention to the following suggestions made by the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace at the end of its first plenary meeting of March, 1967: 1. That Bishops' Conferences, teaching orders and all those concerned with education should be encouraged to include the teaching of international social justice in the curricula of schools, seminaries, universities and all institutions of learn-ing. 2. That retreats, sermons and specifically religious instruc-tion should emphasize the discussion of world justice, ~. That such curricula should be, where possible and suit-able, worked out on an ecumenical basis. 4. That competent study groups, again when suitable on an ecumenical basis, should continue the work of elaborating a doctrine of world-wide development and justice. 5. That lay groups of all kinds be invited to include world justice in their programs of adult education and, when com-petent to do so, assist the Commission in suggesting programs for the mass media. 4. A New Theology ot Development A concern very often expressed at the seminar on de-velopment alluded to above was that what was needed was an honest exchange of views on the theological foundation of development. In fact, one of the prin-cipal resolutions of the seminar asked the Congregation for Evangelization to put the theology of development on its agenda for its next meeting and for eventual presentation to the Holy Father as agenda for the next Synod of Bishops. Another resolution requested a sym-p. osium on mission and development. These two actions reveal that a theology of develop-ment has become a matter of urgency for religious. So long as the effort of missionaries was expended 'within the limits of a parish or a diocese, no special problem presented itself. But today the organization of develop-ment has become a much more complex affair; it has assumed the dimensions of whole nations, of entire continents, of the planetary community itself. While such a task calls for specialists, the ordinary missionaries run the danger of no longer seeing and understanding the role they are called on to play in the task of de-velopment. They stand, then, in perplexity when faced with the contradictory opinions of theologians. If some theolo-gians insist on the irreplaceable character of the proc-lamation of God's word and of the sacramental ministry, missionaries taken up with the tasks of development be-cause of the demands of the situations in which they find themselves and the concrete needs they daily encounter are troubled by an uneasy conscience. If other theologians stress the primary role of development, then those mis-sionaries whose tasks are those which belong to the more + + + Developmem VOLUME 28, Z969 8?7 traditional patterns of the apostolate begin to question the value of what they are doing. It was in response to this perplexity that the superiors general of SEDOS held a mission theology symposium in Rome this past April. Theologians from Europe and other parts of the world were invited to tackle this prob-lem first among themselves, and second in open discus-sions with the generals and their staffs.~ This symposium's importance lies in the fact that it has brought before religious congregations the theologi-cal dimensions of development, while adding to the growing literature on tlfis subject. This hard confronta-tion with the realities of development is a hopeful sign of growth within the Church and religious institutes. And instead of standing before the reality with perplex-ity and bewilderment, religious institutes, with their sense of global dedication, ought to be in the vanguard of working out a new theology of development. This mission theology symposium should set the pace for all religious families of the church. It has been our intention in this paper to draw the attention of religious to the phenomenon of develop-ment so that it can become a growing part of the litera-ture on renewal and adaptation. As a contribution to this literature on renewal, we have pointed out four major trends we have noted over the past year in the field of development as they affect religious institutes. The contribution religious can make to development, we are convinced, is enormous. The single attempts being made here and there must spring into a massive effort that will engage religious in a venture that has taken the center stage of the Church. If development is the new word for peace, it is a new challenge to religious. ~ Preparations are being made for the publication of the pro-ceedings of this symposium in various languages. The English edi-tion will be published by Maryknoll Publications. Brothers More and R~an REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JAMES A. CLARK Placing U. S. Personnel in Latin America Once a bishop or provincial decides to give manpower assistance to Latin America, he quickly discovers the dif-ficulties of attempting to find the wisest way to assign priests, brothers, or nuns to projects in Latin America. Since few authorities can agree on proper priorities for such placements, a superior is wise to recognize im-mediately that optimum, effective assignment of per-sonnel throughout Latin America represents an unat-tainable goal. In the past, assignment of American religious in the southern half of the hemisphere resulted from acciden-tal factors. The high ratio of Americans in Peru derived from the efforts of a zealous nuncio who welcomed them warmly. The large numbers of Americans in Guatemala result from a statistic that indicated that Guatemala had the worst proportion of priests to peo.ple of any Latin American country. Bewildered superiors anxious to respond to appeals of the Vatican to send missionaries to Latin America seized on this fact as a reason to send their subjects to Guatemala. Localized concentrations of Americans usually can be traced to a friendship begun at the Vatican Council between North and Latin Ameri-can Church leaders or through the bonds of a religious community existing in both halves of the hemisphere. The complexity of properly placing people in Latin America appears as a new problem because previously the allocating of workers to missionary lands did not require any accommodation with a structured Church in the foreign situation as is the case now in Latin America. One locale appeared as needy and worthwhile as another for apostolic laborers. The presence of a viable and strong Church in Latin America demands :extreme delicacy in interposing foreigners to serve that Church. Yet the need is so general and widespread in Latin America that from a spiritual point of view it has be- 4- ÷ James A. Clark is a staff member of the apostolic delegation at The Manor House in Rockcliffe Park; Oto tawa 2, Canada. VOLUME 28, 1969 879 come impossible for even the indigenous Church to ar-rive at a generally satisfactory set of realistic and valid preferences. Priorities which have aided in the distribution of financial grants are applicable in part to the appoint-ment of people even. though this latter commodity, people, raises mnch more profound questions since it is so much more precious and scarce in Latin America. This dilemma especially concerns diocesan priests be-cause the international 'religious communities already have a functioning system for distribution of their mem-bers. This arrangement, made under the auspices of the Holy See, has served for generations and enables provincials to provide staff for missionary areas without an agonizing analysis in each case. Those communities without Latin American branches and bishops entering the field for the first time find the subject distressingly difficult. The. Most Reverend Marcos McGrath, Second Vice- .President of the Bishops' Council for Latin America (GELAM), has encouraged even the religious communi-ties to refuse to cling to traditional apostolates and to become open to new forms of ministry: Priorities of needs in the churches of Latin America can be determined most effectively when undertaken by a national episcopal conference. Deciding who comes first is a difficult exercise in the spirit of collegiality because each bishop would like to see his diocese at the top of the list. But it is a necessary exercise and is of great assistance to those from abroad who want to know what the bishops as a whole think about the needs of their country. A listing of priorities may indeed be prepared, by a special committee named by the local bishops. Such an arrangement has been requested in some instances by various organizations of assistance. CELAM's continental sec-retariat of the Latin American bishops may indicate some gen-eral priorities of needs through its specialized departments. ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Several complex plans have been proposed to resolve the problem of placement. The secretariat of the U.S. Bishops' Committee for Latin America once devised a coordinating committee of ten expert advisers to counsel bishops on the proper method of allocating personnel for Latin America. However since the ten could not agree among themselves on how to achieve best results the committee never met and the plan died. The secretariat received requests from most of the ecclesiastical jurisdictions in Latin America (more than 600) and circulated these to bishops and superiors of religious houses. However, no attempt to provide criteria for selecting one petition over another ever appeared. Standard policy urged superiors to.visit potential recipi- ¯ ent areas personally, a rather unrealistic suggestion for harried superiors already overstocked with requests for their manpower. Naturally, bishops prefer to retain jurisdiction over their priests. For this reason the concept of a military ordinariate type structure to recruit, train, and appoint personnel in Latin America failed to receive widespread acceptance, since experience .with military chaplains alerted bishops to the fear of losing control of their sub-jects for the major portion of their ministerial lives. Several prominent churchmen, support attempts to permit diocesan priests to serve in a religious community on the missions through a temporary connection with a religious order. Only diocesan priests who have lived for any length of time in the house of a religious society can foresee the difficulties of this plan. In spite of abundant good will on the part of all involved there is no escaping the feeling on the part of the secular priest that he is a "junior" or "non-incorporated" subject, without status and without the possibility of participation in decision making sessions. Likewise, this association causes the priest to lose identity both at home and abroad as a diocesan priest serving temporarily on the missions. The entry of diocesan priests with previous parish ex-perience into missionary areas revealed the value of these men over those who went directly to the missions upon ordination without any experience in a normal parish situation to use as a barometer for their missionary en-deavors. A diocese-to-diocese setup is not workable because one diocese in the States cannot properly provide for train-ing, support, leave time, illness, vacations, and so forth of overseas staff. Yet a method must be found which preserves the interest of the home diocese which usually provides the financial wherewithal enabling the Latin American mission to function. Other proposals include appointing men for a time to a national conference of bishaps in a given country, in-cardinating priests temporarily into a Latin American diocese, or assigning them to the U.S. Bishops' Com-mittee for Latin America, which, in conjunction with the U.S. and Latin American bishops involved, could arrange for training and distribution of priests. Two countries have established national offices to deal with this issue, and bishops assigning men to either Chile or Brazil need only refer to the national offices for ad-vice. Several methods of providing diocesan priests to Latin America have sprung up among the 76 dioceses involved in this effort. 24 dioceses merely permitted priests to go to Latin America. 17 assumed responsibility to support the volunteer priests during their term of Latin Ameri- 4- 4- 4- Latin America can service but they make no provisions for the assign-ment of these priests. 34 accept the task of supporting a parish or several parishes in Latin America. In Boston, Richard Cardinal Cushing founded in 1958 a society to bring these diocesan priests together. Currently this St. James (the Cardinal's middle name) Society counts slightly more than 100 members from 30 dioceses in the U.S. and several European countries. This corps pro-vides pastoral services to a half million people spread across Peru, Ecuador, and Bolivia. It represents the best vehicle currently available for sending diocesan priests to Latin America. A similar organization for pooling nuns going to Latin America received attention at an inter-American meeting of Bishops at Georgetown University in 1959 but has failed to be implemented. In attempting to establish priorities, the national conferences of Bishops in Latin America have proved to be a boon although usually the primatial archbishop in a country tends to see his own needs first and with good reason for he usually presides over the largest metropoli-tan portion of that country. But rural bishops complain about the criteria when they witness most foreign ar-rivals remaining in the capital city. Both CELAM and the Pontifical Commission for Latin America have sought to provide a solution in this sensitive area but without success, as most attempts at coordination cause disputes over the choice of one diocese over another as beneficiary of American clerics. Originally the Pontifical Commission offered the facili-ties of the nunciatures throughout Latin America as clearing houses, but a.fear of Roman control of the en-tire movement impelled both donor and petitioner dioceses to bypass quietly any Commission services. As a former nuncio in Panama, the late Archbishop Paul Bernier commented on this question during his tenure on the Canadian Bishops' Commission for Latin America: lames A. Clark REVIEW FOR'RELIGIOUS I think there is a strong feeling against forming a society of any kind. Most of the bishops, if I understand well, insist on having and keeping an effort of the secular clergy as such with no affiliation, neither to the diocese ad quam nor to any particular religious or semi-religious society but to keep all of them [the priests] incardinated in the diocese a qua. If they don't want to stay there for more than five years, or if for any other reason they cannot remain, they come back to their own diocese just as if they were never out of it. I think that in Canada at least the impression of the bishops would be rather contrary to affiliating or incorporating our diocesan ~nd secular priests to any particular society. Most bishops would be willing, however, to send according to their abilities one or two, five or ten priests, to some form of, not a society, but a responsible organization which in the last analysis would be in the hands of the Episcopal Committee for that. Whoever accepts responsibility for such appointments will have need of some priorities or guidelines since the priestly requirements of Latin America could not be fulfilled if every priest in. the United States went to Latin America. Some principles to follow in this area would include the following points. The i~rst choice to be made is a selection of a category of work for a religious volunteey, that is, shall I send my priest (or brother or sister) to work as a catechist, teacher, parish worker, or what? The departments of CELAM indicate the critical apostolates which normally will have first call on foreign services: education, medi-cine, social service, relief, charity, seminary/vocational work, catechetics, student/university apostolates, and service to laborers. Next the superior must choose a geographical classifi-cation, that is, shall I send him (her) to serve on the con-tinental level with CELAM, or on the regional or na-tional level with the conferences of bishops, or to the diocesan and local level. Foreigners often function best in posts removed from the intimate personal relation-ship of priest-to-parishioner which reqmres sensitive cul-tural perception. Usually their North American organi-zational talents achieve widest impact on a broader scale at the continental, regional, or diocesan levels. Also a decision must be made as to whether to send personnel to the rural or urban locations. Many Mary-knollers in Latin America have regretted the decision made many years ago to spread Society members across the mountain ranges. The impact of an individual is broader in the cities. On the other hand Cardinal Cush-ing says that the revolution in Latin America will be born in the mountains and the Church ought to be there. At one time it was thought preferable to assign North Americans to dioceses with North American bishops at the helm. This principle has been subsequently disre-garded since it leads to a danger of creating a church within a church, one foreign and one native. The monster parishes which have arisen in Latin America as a resuh of abundant American material and personnel aid have become a source of distress for Latin Americans and embarrassment for North Americans. Parish A flooded with American assistance can only re-flect poorly on parish B which is struggling along with local resources only. OccasionaIIy a choice arises between placing people in projects underwritten by private industry or govern-÷ ÷ ÷ Latin America VOLUM~ 28~ 1969 883 4- 4- REVIEW FOR,RELIGIOUS 884 ments, for example, a company hospital or a state nor-mal school. These opportunities sometimes permit the assure, ption of responsibilities which would otherwise be financially prohibitive; on the other hand, alliance with a government or industrial concern can be severely det-rimental to the Church image and impact. .One essential requirement demands that the project given help be integrated into the local church structure. For this reason each local request must be approved by the national conference of bishops to insure that it co-ordinates with the national pastoral plan. From the viewpoint of the candidate to be sent to Latin America, if he or she speaks one of the languages of Latin America or has studied or served in a particular country naturally it is logical to assign the person to that place. All attempts to satisfy reasonable personal preferences will reduce the inevitable cultural shock suffered by v, olunteers. A first principle of sending people into Latin America is that they be sent as members of a team effort and never individually. The ability of the subject offering his services will sometimes be the final determinant of assignment; a seminary professor will not serve best in a slum parish nor will a Trappist normally function well in a mass communications program. Due to the profound social division in Latin America there is a need to predetermine whether personnel are to be placed in projects serving the wealthy or the im-poverished. In the latter case a realistic plan for external financing will normally be required. Projects which provide some hope of eventual self-sufficiency in regard to their staffing needs should be selected rather than those which will require permanent foreign workers. Realistic approaches to provide new solutions to basic religious problems of Latin America deserve special con-sideration. For examples, the novel approach to slum parish work of Father Andres Godin, a Canadian Oblate, in Lima, Peru; or that of American Oblate Edmund Leising who has developed a remarkable program in Brazil for promoting parish self-support through Ameri-can fund raising procedures; or the renowned apostolate of Father Leo Mahon in San Miguelito parish in Pan-ama who has discovered an entirely new process for parish effectiveness. These offer novel and successful approaches to stubborn problems. Similar examples of projects managed by Latin American priests themselves could be cited. Most superiors have the background to recognize that adequate and detailed financial arrangements must be agreed upon in advance by both sides to prevent animos-ity from developing on obscure financial responsibilities. The overall plan an agency presents ought to be ex-amined carefully to learn if it is realistically conceived. Experience in Latin America reveals that ill.constructed, idealistic proposals soon collapse. Those of us familiar with the problem of positioning personnel in Latin America are aware of the difficulties superiors face in this field. Hopefully some of the above remarks will assist the ongoing dialogue in this area and be of some assistance to those who seek to serve the Church by releasing people for work on the only Catholic continent of the globe. + + ÷ Latin America VOLUME 28, 1969 885 JOSEPH F. GALLEN, S.J. Comments on tl e Instruction on Formation Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., writes from St. Joseph's Church; $21 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Penn-sylvania 19106. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Prepostulancy Nothing is said in the Instruction on a prepostulancy period. Number 4 states that it would be worthwhile to consider whether the practice of going directly to the novitiate from such places as aspirancies, apostolic schools, or minor seminaries should be continued or whether an interval of probation should be had to develop the human and emotional maturity of the candidate. In the case of those obliged to a postulancy by canon 539, § 1, this development can be taken care of during the postulancy, which can last up to two years and also be made while residing outside any house of the in-stitute (n. 12). There is nothing in the Instruction for or against such places as aspirancies but, as is clear from what was said above, number 4 presumes that they will continue to exist. Postulancy (nn. 4; 10-2; 33) Importance. "Hence it follows that all institutes, even those that do not prescribe the postulancy, must at-tach great importance to this preparation for the novice-ship" (n. 4). Purpose. This is to judge the suitability and aptitude of the candidate; to give a preparation that will enable the noviceship to be made more fruitfully; to provide a gradual transition from secular to religious life; and to verify and complete, if necessary, the religious knowledge of the candidate (nn. 11-2). "Tentative" in number 11 of the Vatican English translation is not in the Latin text and "to formulate a. judgment" is to form a judgment. Power of general chapter. In institutes in which the postulancy is of obligation by common law (in insti-tutes of perpetual vows: all women but in those of men only lay brothers) or by the constitutions, the gen-eral chapter may keep in mind, for a better adaptation of the postulancy~ the following norms (n. 12): Duration. In institutes in which the postulancy is not obligatory by common or constitutional law, the general chapter may determine its nature and duration, which can vary for different candidates but should not be too brief nor ordinarily longer than two years. In institutes in which the postulancy is obligatory from common law, it must last at least six full months (c. 589, § I), and this minimum time is more probably retained in the Instruction; but the general chapters of these institutes may also follow the two-year limit, the principle that the time may vary for different candi-dates, and probably that the minimum time may be less than six months (n. 12). 1 do not think the right of canon 539, § 2, to prolong the postulancy for six months extends to a postulancy of two years. A postu-lancy longer than two years would not be very rea-sonable, especially since it can be varied within that time for the individual. Place. Preferably not in the novitiate house, and it can be profitable for it to be made wholly or in part outside a house of the institute (n. 12). The postulancy may therefore be so organized that the postulants con-tinue to reside in their homes or in such another place as a college. See also numbers 4 and 11. The latter speaks of a "gradual transition from lay life to that proper to the noviceship." Director. The postulants, wherever the postulancy is made, are to be under the direction of qualified re-ligious, between whom and the master of novices there is to be sedulous cooperation (n. 12). Dross. The determination of the dress of the postu-lants appertains to the general chapter (n. 33). How-ever, canon 540, § 2, had required simply that the dress of the postulants be modest and different from that of the novices. It could therefore have been secular but modest; special and uniform, but this was not neces-sary; religious, but different from that of the novices. Noviceship (nn. 4-5; 13-33) Maturity requisite Ior beginning noviceship (n. 4). The noviceship should begin when the candidate is aware of God's call and has reached that degree of human and spiritual maturity which will allow him to decide to respond to this call with sufficient and proper knowledge and responsibility: "Most of the difficulties encountered today in the formation of novices are usually due to the fact that when they were admitted they did not have the required maturity., it must ÷ ÷ ÷ Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 887 ÷ ÷ ÷ $. F. Gallen, S.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 888 be affirmed that the age required for admission to the noviceship should be higher than heretofore" (n. 4). Place. The noviceship for validity must be made in a house legitimately designated for this purpose (n. 15) by the superior general with the consent of his council and according to the constitutions (n. 16). The superior general with the consent of his council and after consultation with the interested provincial may in a case of necessity permit also many novitiates in the same province (n. 17). When the small number of novices is not sufficient to promote community life, the superior general should, if possible, establish the novitiate in a community of the institute capable of aiding the formation of such a small group of novices (n. 18). To better meet some demands of their formation, the superior general may authorize that the group of novices be transferred during certain periods to another house of the institute designated by himself (n. 16). In particular and exceptional cases, the superior gen-eral with the consent of his council may permit that a candidate validly make his noviceship in a house of the institute other than the novitiate house, under the direction of a qualified religious acting as a master of novices (n. 19). Duration. For validity the noviceship must last for twelve months (n. 21). A continuous or interrupted absence from the noviti-ate group and house that exceeds three months ren-ders the noviceship invalid (ft. 22). In lesser absences the higher superior, after consulting the novice master and considering the reason for the absence, may in individual cases command an extension of the noviceship and determine its length, and this matter may also be determined by the constitutions (n. 22). Formative activity periods outside the novitiate house must be added to the required twelve months, nor may they be begun before a novice has spent three months in the novitiate (if the contrary is done, the noviceship be-gins only on the completion of the formative activity period) and must be so arranged that the novice spends a minimum of six continuous months in the novitiate, re-turns there at least a month before the first vows or other temporary commitment, and the time of the whole novice-ship extended in this manner may not exceed two years (n. 24). The noviceship amplified by such formative activity periods may not exceed two years, but this does not abrogate the right given to higher superiors in canon 571, § 2, to prolong the noviceship up to six months in a doubt about the suitability of a candidate. Such a prolongation is permitted in a noviceship of two years without formative activity periods. A higher superior for a just cause may permit first profession or commitment to be anticipated but not beyond fifteen days (n. 26). Formative activity periods. The general chapter by at least a two-thirds vote may experimentally enact, in keeping with the nature of the institute, one or more periods of formative activity outside the novitiate house, the number to be determined in practice accord-ing to the judgment of the master of novices with the consent of the higher superior, for the formation of the novices or, in some cases, for a better judgment of their aptitude for the life of the institute. Such periods may be used for one, several, or the entire group of novices. If possible a novice should not be assigned alone to these periods. In these periods the novices are under the direction of the master of novices (nn. 23, 25). "It must be emphasized that this formative activ-ity, which complements novitiate teaching, is not in-tended to provide the novices with the technical or professional training required for certain apostolic ac-tivities, training which will be afforded to them later on, but rather to help them, in the very midst of these activities, to better discover the exigencies of their vocation as religious and how to remain.faithful to them" (n. 5; see also n. 25). Separation of novices. There must be some separation between the novices and the professed religious, with whom, however, and with other communities, the novices may have contact according to the judgment of the master of novices. It appertains to the general chapter to decide, according to the nature of the institute and particular circumstances, what contacts may be had between the novices and the professed of the institute (n. 28). The use of the term "professed re-ligious" in the second sentence makes it sufficiently clear that there is no prohibition of contact between the novices and the postulants, as might be feared from the word "members" in the other two sentences of number 28. Studies during the noviceship. The general chapter may permit or command certain studies during the nov-iceship for the better formation of the novices, but doctri-nal studies should be directed to the knowledge and love of God and to the development of a more profound life of faith. From the twelve months of noviceship of number 21 all studies, even theological and philosophi-cal, made for obtaining diplomas or for acquiring a formation directed to preparation for fulfilling future Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 889 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 890 duties are forbidden (n. 29). Provided doctrinal studies are directed to the spiritual life, as prescribed in the first sentence, it is probably not forbidden to receive credits for such studies when these can be had but the studies are not to be directed to the attaining of credits. There is no doubt that the prescription on doctrinal studies in this first sentence also applies only to the twelve months of noviceship of number 21, as is also true of the canonical legislation in canon 565, § 3, on this point, "even though the Latin text says "during the time of the noviceship," not "during the regular novitiate year," as in the English translation. The latter also has "all formal study programs" in the second paragraph whereas the Latin reads "all studies." Dress o] the novices. It appertains to the general chapter to determine the dress of the novices (n. 33). Number 33 speaks of the "habit of the novices and of other candidates for the religious life." It certainly had not been the practice nor is there any tendency to give a religious habit to postulants, and the meaning here of "habit" is "dress." No limitation is placed on the power of the general chapter to determine the dress of the novices and postulants. Canon 557 commands the wear-ing of the habit during the whole time of the noviceship, but it has also been maintained that the noviceship is an uncertain time and that the habit, to retain all its significance, should not be given to the novices. Noviceship lot another class. Unless the constitutions determine otherwise, a noviceship made for one class is valid for another (n. 27). The constitutions may de-termine the conditions regulating a transfer from one class to another (n. 27), Novice master. The novices are under the direction of the novice master who may seek the aid of other skilled helpers (n. 30). This is to be kept in mind with regard to a formation team. See also numbers 5, 12, 15, 23, 31, 32. Temporary Bond (nn. 2, 6-9; 34-8) A different temporary bond may be established and ]or all. Number 34 gives a faculty, not a precept, but in general language: "The General Chapter, by a two-thirds majority, may decide to replace temporary vows with some other kind of commitment as, for example, a promise made to the institute." The same general lan-guage is found in numbers 2, 6, 10, 24,' 37-8. The pos-sibility of the extension to all in the probation after the noviceship is not certainly excluded by other num-bers of the Instruction. A dil~erent bond should be introduced only a]ter most careful thought. The reasons are (1) number 34 demands a two-thirds vote of the general chapter to in-troduce a different bond and (2) number 7 explidtly re-quires such careful thought: "No institute should de-cide to use the faculty granted by this Instruction to replace temporary vows by some other form of commit-ment without having clearly perceived and weighed the reasons for and the nature of this change." A different bond in fairness, prudence, and proper regard [or sound spirituality should be introduced only [or those in whom the special immaturity exists. The reasons are (1) by vows a special consecration is had according to number 2: "Thus it is that religious pro-fession is an act of religion ~nd a special consecration whereby a person dedicates himself to God." (2) Be-cause according to number 7 temporary vows are com-pletely in harmony with the greater response to God so important at the beginning of the religious life and also enable the candidate to make the consecration proper to the religious state: "For him who has heeded the call of Jesus to leave everything to follow Him there can be no question of how important it is to respond generously and wholeheartedly to this call £rom the very outset of his religious life; the making of temporary vows is completely in harmony with this requirement. For, while still retaining its probationary character by the fact that it is temporary, the profession of first vows makes the young religious share in the consecration proper to the religious state." (3) Because immaturity is the sole reason given (n. 7) for substituting another temporary commitment: "In fact, more fre-quently now than in the past, a certain number [quidam] of young candidates come to the end of their novitiate without having acquired the religious ma-turity sufficient to bind themselves immediately by re-ligious vows, although no prudent doubt can be raised regarding their generosity or their authentic vocation to the religious state. This hesitancy in pronbuncing vows is frequently accompanied by a great awareness of the exigencies and the importance of the perpetual religious profession to which they aspire and wish to prepare themselves." (4) Possibly also because the desire for the different commitment was true only of some institutes (n. 7): "Thus it has seemed desirable in a certain num-ber o[ institutes that at the end of their noviceship the novices should be able to bind themselves by a temporary commitment different from vows, yet answering their twofold desire to give themselves to God and the institute and to pledge themselves to a fuller preparation for perpetual profession." Since the Instruction describes temporary vows as a consecration that is special, proper to the religious state, and in harmony with the greater ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 28. 1969 89! + ÷ .~. Fo Gallen, $J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 89~> response to God, it at least seems unfair, imprudent, and without regard for sound spirituality to deprive a novice of temporary vows when he has all the quali-ties requisite for making them, that is, when he is not affected by the special immaturity described in number 7. ¯ Some observations on this immaturity. Is this im-maturity proper to the young or is it the emotionalism that is today found in many older religious, and which the young often manifest only after continuous contact with such older religious? Isn't there a movement at this moment in the United States to give the vote to those who are eighteen years of age because the young are now more politically mature? In more than thirty states it has been the law that a girl of eighteen may marry without the consent of her parents. Is there any widespread tendency at present to change this very general law because of the immaturity of the ~young? Don't some hold that the greater physical development of modern youth argues to a greater psychological de-velopment? Does one frequently and without indoctri-nation encounter a novice who is judged to have a certain religious vocation (see also c. 571, § 2) but is too immature to take temporary vows? What factual and ob-jective investigations were made in the United States to prove the existence of such immaturity? Isn't it true that such immaturity would occur with regard to the temporary vow of chastity, not of poverty or obedience? Prescinding now from the obligation of the different commitment, don't the commandments of God still bind such a candidate and under serious sin in a violation of chastity? The simplest and most appropriate different com-mitment would be a promise to the institute to observe poverty, chastity, and obedience because (1) neither the form nor the object of the different commitment is determined in the Instruction (see n. 34) but (2) in numbers 7 and 35 the Instruction at least says it is fitting that the dit~erent commitment should in some way refer to the exercise of the three evangelical counsels, for example in number 7: "Whatever form such a temporary commitment may take, it is in keeping, with fidelity to a genuine religious vocation that it should in some way be based on the requirements of the three evangelical counsels." and (3) more directly and even categorically in number 13 the Instruction apparently says that the novice is to make profession of the evangeli-cal counsels at the end of the noviceship by temporary vows or other temporary commitment: ".that a novice.may implement the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, and obedience, the profession of which 'either by vows or by other sacred bonds that are like vows in their purpose' he will later make." This number of the Instruction is talking of a novice and therefore o[ the first consecration, which can be either vows or another temporary commitment. There is no alternative for the profession of perpetual vows. Other forms and objects of commitment are possible. The form and object of members in the strict sense of secular institutes is: "By making profession before God of celibacy and perfect chastity, which shall be confirmed by vow, oath, or consecration binding in conscience, according to the constitutions; by a vow or promise of obedience.by a vow or promise of poverty." (Provida Mater Ecclesia, February 2, 1947, Art. III). Some of the different forms of commitments in societies of common life without public vows are annual private vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience and the service of the poor; private perpetual vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience; promise of fidelity to the observance of the rule and constitutions; perpetual promise of observ-ance of common life and poverty; perpetual agreement to obey the rule of the institute; perpetual oath of perseverance and obedience; and perpetual oath and promise of perseverance and obedience,x The societies of common life more £requently encountered are the Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul, Eudists, Josephites, Maryknoll Missionaries, Oratorians, Pallot-tine Fathers, Paulists, Precigus Blood Fathers, Sulpicians, Vincentians, and White Fathers. Is one who makes a di1~erent temporary commitment in a state of perfection, in the religious state, a re-ligious, and a member of his institute? This is at least a very basic question and with wide implications. The negative arguments are that the Instruction nowhere says that one who makes a different temporary commit-ment is a religious and that canon 488, 7°, demands public vows to constitute a religious. On the other hand (1) vows are required only by canon law, not by divine law or the nature of the matter,2 to constitute a re-ligious, and the Instruction derogates from this canon law, as will be seen from the following arguments: (2) number 36 states absolutely that the subject is united with his institute and absolutely that he is obliged to observe its law; (3) the Instruction throughout does not differentiate between such a commitment and temporary vows (see nn. 2, 6, 10, 24, 34, 37-8); (4) num-ber 10 states explicitly that the temporary commitment is not the noviceship. If an entirely new state were being 1 See also Beste, lntroductio in Codicem, 497; Guti~rrez, Gora-mentarium pro religiosis, 38 (1959), 312-3. =See Goyeneche, De religiosis, 10-11; Guti~rrez, op.cit., 29 (1050), 72-3. ÷ ÷ ÷ VOU, JME 25, 89~ REV;EW FOR RELIGIOUS introduced distinct from that of the noviceship and temporary vows, this should have been dearly stated in the Instruction. (5) The probationary periods can last for thirteen years. This seems in itself to be un-reasonable if the subject does not become a member of the institute until the end of such time. The professed of temporary vows are members by first profession. The present canon law does not permit a duration of tempo-rary vows longer than six years, and canon 642, § 2, likens a professed of six years of temporary vows to one of perpetual vows. (6) During this prolonged time the institute would not be held in the case of such a subject to the norms of dismissal for professed but could dismiss him almost in the manner of a novice, whereas the pro-fessed of temporary vows would have also a right of sus-pensive recourse against his dismissal. Nor would canon 643, § 2, on the charitable subsidy apply, nor canon 646 on an automatic dismissal. (7) There would be an evident distinction in the rights and obligations of these subjects and the professed of temporary vows even though both would be in the same factual state of proba-tion. It is true, as number 7 states, tl~at "the profesz sion of first vows., makes the candidate share in the consecration proper to the religious state." Such a consecration, however, is required only by canon or human law, which can therefore enact that other suitable forms of commitment would also constitute a candidate in the religious state and make him a re-ligious, as also because such a candidate is always des-tined for this proper consecration in perpetual profes-sion. Religious women are nuns and their institutes are religious orders even though no one in fact has solemn vows provided at least some are destined for solemn vows from the particular law of the institute. Public vows would also remain proper to the religious state and to religious institutes since they are not had either in societies of common life nor in secular institutes. I therefore believe that the subject in a different temporary commitment is in a state of perfection, in the religious state, is a religious, and a member of his institute, but the question should be authoritatively serried by the Holy See. In the contrary opinion, those in a different temporary commitment are in a state that is neither noviceship nor profession, one also for which we have no parallel, and consequently a state of deep obscurity at least juridically. Determination o~ details b) the general chapter (n. 36). In virtue of canon 543 only a higher superior is competent to admit to the noviceship and to any re-ligious profession. The same canon demands a vote of the council or chapter for admission to the novice- ship, first temporary, and perpetual professions. The gen-eral chapter should require the deliberative vote for admission to the first temporary commitment and pre-scribe for renewals and prolongation of. such a com-mitment the same vote as is enacted in the constitutions for these acts with regard to temporary profession. The same policy should be observed concerning the superior competent for permitting an anticipated renewal of the temporary commitment, for exclusion from renewal or from the profession of perpetual vows (c. 637), and for the vote of the council in this case. The superior general with at least the advice of his council should be given the faculty of consenting to the dissolution of the com-mitment by the subject, to so consent to the request of the subject at any time during a commitment, who can then be immediately admitted to temporary vows, and with the consent of his council from the institute. Reception of ment is not necessary because it (c. 1308, § 1), and the consent of to dismiss a subject the different commit-is not a public vow the institute was suf-ficiently given and expressed in the admission to the commitment or its renewal. The general chapter could prescribe reception since such a repeated consent of the institute is not contrary to common law. The formula of the vows will have to be changed for a different commitment, for example, a promise will be to the institute, not to God as is a vow. Even if the new com-mitment does not have obedience as its express object and is therefore not productive of another obligation of obedience, superiors, as the head of the institute or of its parts, possess at least the same authority that they have over a novice and, if the Holy See decides that a different commitment is on the same juridical level as temporary vows, they possess the same authority as over a professed but without the added title to exact obedi-ence from the vow (c. 501, § 1; 502). Ganons whose application is obscure. The applica-tion of the following canons to those in a different temporary commitment should also be decided by the Holy See: responsibility for debts, 536, §§ 2-3; canonical examination, 552; dowry, 547-51; making of cession and disposition regarding personal patrimony and a civilly valid will, 569; retreat before first profession, 571, § 3; profession of a novice in danger of death. Requisites for a valid profession, exclusive of recep-tion, the necessity of three years of temporary vows, and understanding the derogations regarding a valid novice-ship in the Instruction, 572; age for profession, 573; deliberative vote for first profession, 575, § 2; written declaration of profession, 576, § 2; no intervals between renewals or perpetual profession, 577, § 1; 575, § 1; ÷ ÷ Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 895 ~. F. Gallen, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 896 enjoyment of the same indulgences, privileges, spiritual favors, and suffrages, obligation of observing rules and constitutions, active and passive voice and computation of time for obtaining either, 578; illiceity and invalidity of acts contrary to the vows, 579. Acquisition of property by a professed of simple vows, change of cession and disposition, 580; renuncia-tion of personal patrimony, 581; 583, 1°; change of will, 583; 2°. Common obligations of clerics in canons 124-42, 592; obligation of common life, 594; obligation of wear-ing habit, 596; cloister, 597 ft.; religious duties, 595; right of exempt correspondence, 611; enjoyment of privileges of first order by nuns, 613, § 2; enjoyment of clerical privileges of canons 119-23, 614. Transfer to another religious institute or monastery, 632-5; 544, § 5; right of professed of temporary vows to leave at the end of a temporary profession, 637; ex-claustration, 638-9; effects of secularization, 640-3; compensation may not be sought for services given to the institute, 643, § 1; charitable subsidy, 643, § 2; laws on fugitives, 644, § 3; 645; 2386; automatic dismissal, 646; dismissal of a professed of temporary vows, 647-8; provisional return to secular life, 653. Six professed constitute a formal house, 488, 5°; precedence from first profession breaking a tie in elec-tions, 101, § 1, 1°; first profession as date of computing eligibility for office, 504; 559, §§ 1-2; prohibition of being members of third orders secular, 704; prohibi-tion of being a sponsor in baptism and confirmation, 766, 4°; 796, 3°; special jurisdiction necegsary for the confessions of religious women, 876; funerals of religious, 1221; 1124, 2°; permission for writings, 1386, § 1; punish-able for violations of common life, 2389. Obligation o[ observing the evangelical counsels. If the Holy See decides that a different temporary com-mitment is on the same juridical level as the profession of temporary vows, the evangelical counsels must be observed at least with the same obligation as the con-stitutions, no matter what be the object of the different temporary commitment because (1) not only does num-ber 36 impose after the new commitment "the obliga-tion of observing the Rule, constitutions and other regulations of the institute" and therefore a fortiori also the obligation of observing the evangelical coun-sels as more essential and important for a state of complete Christian perfection but also and more pro-foundly because (2) the observance of the evangelical counsels is necessary from the nature of a state of per-fection, as can be seen from the following direct and clear statements of only three Popes and Vatican II: "The religious orders, as everyone knows, have their origin and raison d'etre in those sublime evangelical counsels, of which our divine Redeemer spoke, for the course of all time, to those who desire to attain Christian perfection" (Leo XIII, December 23, 1900). "When the only-begotten Son of God came into the world to re-deem the human race, he gave the precepts of spiritual life by which all men were to be directed to their appointed end; in addition, he taught that all those who wished to follow more closely in His footsteps should embrace and follow the evangelical counsels" (Pius XI, March 19, 1924). "It is true that by the apostolic constitution Provida Mater Ecclesia we declared that the form of life, which is followed by secular institutes, is also to be accepted as a state of perfection publicly recognized, because the members are bound in some way to the observance of the evangelical counsels" (Pius XII, July 13, 1952).3 Vatican II affirmed: "Thus, although the religious state constituted by the profession of the evangelical counsels does not belong to the hierarchical structure of the Church, nevertheless it belongs in-separably to her life and holiness." 4 Moral obligation of a new temporary commitment. It might seem that a general chapter could also completely determine this (see n. 36), but number 34 gives a promise to the institute as an example of such a com-mitment. We are to presume words in such a document are being used in their proper sense, and in such a sense a promise produces a moral obligation. In a merely private promise to God or man, the one making the promise can oblige himself only to a light obliga-tion in light matter but in serious matter he can assume either a light or a grave obligation. May a general chapter, therefore, define the moral obligation of the new temporary commitment, for example, a promise to the institute, as only light? It could do so if it is decided by the Holy See that such a commitment is not on the same juridical level as temporary vows. Could it do so if the level is the same? Such a definition is not excluded by the nature of a commitment or promise purely in itself nor by the explicit wording of the Instruction. The light obligation can also be urged from the reason for permitting a different commitment, that is, the immaturity of a candidate. It would not 8Courtois, The States of Perfection, Dublin: 1961, M. H. Gill and Son, nn. 33, 130, 403, 474; see also Schaefer, De religiosis, n. 125; Beste, op.cit., 328; Padri Claretdani, II diritto dei religiosi, n. 3; Fanfani, II diritto delle religiose, n. 2; Bastien, Directoire canonique, nn. 9, 14; Creusen, Religious Men and Women in Church Law, nn. 4-5; Guti~rrez, ibid., 63-4, 67. ' Abbott-Gallagher, The Document~ of Vatican II, 75. 4" 4" 4" Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 89~ ]. F. Gallen, $.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS seem very practical to enact that such a candidate does not have to take the added serious obligation of a re-ligious vow if he must assume the added serious obli-gation of another form of commitment. On the opposite side it can be well maintained from the nature of the matter that it would be incongruous for the funda-mental obligations of a permanent state of life to be only light. Above all there is a reply given by the Sacred Congregation of Religious, May 19, 1949, in an entirely parallel case and in general language to the effect that the bonds assumed by the members of secular insti-tutes cannot be light in their general nature.~ The pur-pose and nature of secular institutes are given as the reason for this doctrine. A secular institute is an apos-tolic state of complete Christian perfection, and the reasoning of the Sacred Congregation appears to me to apply, at least equally, if not afortiori, to religious in-stitutes. In effect this would mean, in the promise we have advocated to the institute to observe poverty, chastity, and obedience, the same light or serious obliga-tion that is had in the religious vows. The document reads: 1. The obligations which are contracted by members in the strict sense (Art. III, §§ £ and 3) for the full pursuit of the juridical state of perfection in secular institutes (Art. III, § 2), if they are to correspond to the purpose and nature of the institute, cannot be light in their general nature and under every respect (ex genere suo atque ex omni parte). 2. On the other hand, the bonds on which this state of perfection rests, are considered so to oblige in conscience that the obligations thus produced must be called grave in their general nature (ex genere suo). 3. In individual cases, an obligation must be considered grave only when its matter must be considered as certainly grave according to the constitutions and the common teaching regarding equal or similar bonds. Moreov,er, according to the well-known rule of law (Reg. 30 in VI°), 'In obscure matters, one is obliged to Iollow only the least obligation," it cannot be affirmed in a doubtful case that an obligation is grave or more grave, for example, on the ground that an obligation arises from or is reinforced by the formal virtue of religion. 4. Just what is the nature of the bonds assumed in individual institutes and what is the precise mode of obligation---e.g., in addition to justice and fidelity, is there also and, if so, to what degree, an obligation from the virtue of religion--must be learned from the constitutions, which should give an accurate presentation of the matter, and from the formula of consecra-tion or incorporation in which the bonds are expressed. 5. Even when it is certain that there is a formal obligation arising from the virtue of religion, since there is question of vows or bonds which, although they are not fully private, nevertheless, in law, cannot be called public in the strict and specific sense and do not effect a public consecration of the' "Bouscaren-O'Connor, Canon Law Digest /or Religious, 167-8; see also Commentarium pro religiosis, 28 (1949): Larraona, 199-200; Fuertes, 292-8. person, the malice of sacrilege must not be attributed to their violation. Duration oI probation after the noviceship. The gen-eral chapter is to determine this but it is to be no less than three nor longer than nine years (n. 37). I find it difficult to see why a period longer than five years should be generally prescribed (n. 6). The total possible probationary period, that is, 2 years of postulancy, 2 of noviceship, and 9 of temporary commitment, can thus be 13 years. This would ordinarily mean perpetual profes-sion at the youngest only at the age of 30 or 31 years. Would we advise marriage only at 30 or 317 The gen-eral chapter may permit a prolongation in individual cases of a prescribed time, e.g., five years, up to the full nine years or may limit the power of prolonging, e.g., to only one year (n. 37). Precise length of dil~erent commitment. This may be made in the one act for the full length of the interval before perpetual profession, for example, five years; or for a briefer period, for example, three years, to be re-newed for two years on its expiration or to be followed by temporary vows (n. 34). The provision of canon 577, § 2, of permitting a renewal of temporary vows to be an-ticipated but not by more than a month may be also applied to the renewal of a different form of temporary commitment. Such an anticipation is permissible £rom the nature of a commitment and is not excluded by the Instruction. Must also a di~erent temporary commitment be ac-companied by the intention of renewing and of admit-ting to a renewal on its expiration? If the decision of the Holy See is that the juridical level of temporary vows and other temporary commitments is the same, the answer is in the affirmative. The explanation of the necessity of this intention in temporary vows has been the following. The religious life has ever and now de-mands stability or permanence. From its concept it is a state of life in the same way as the clerical or married state. A state of life is something that contains the note of stability or permanence. The exact permanence re-quired is defined by the Church as follows: solemn vows or simple perpetual vows are sufficient but not neces-sary; the minimum requisite is simple temporary vows. Therefore, an institute in which all the members make only annual professions of poverty, chastity, and obedi-ence fulfills this requisite. The Church further requires that temporary vows be renewed on their expiration (c. 488, 1°). This implies an intention on the part of both the religious making temporary profession and the superior admitting to this profession that, iI no obstacle ÷ ÷ ÷ Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 899 ]. F. Gallery, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 900 occurs in the meantime, the vows will be renewed on their expiration. It is evident that the same necessity of this intention and its explanation apply to a different temporary commitment since the necessity of the inten-tion is required not from vows as such but from the fact that the religious state is 'a state of life and demands stability.6 Lastly, such an intention is required in secular institutes, in which the bond can be vow, oath, consecra-tion, or promise: "The bond by which the secular insti-tute and its members in the strict sense are to be united must be: 1o Stable, according to the constitutions, either perpetual or temporary but to be renewed at its expira-tion (c. 488, 1°) . ,, 7 ConIusion on temporary vows. Tkis is the appropriate place to mention the extensive confusion that has existed on temporary vows in this whole matter of a different commitment. Many talked as if a temporary vow were a most unusual and even a contradictory thing. Evidently they did not know that temporary vows were mentioned in canon law (c. 131.1) as also in practically any manual of moral theology and in canonical works that included the treatment of the vows. It was also frequently stated that the intention of renewing and of admitting to renewal on their expiration was a contra-diction of the temporary duration of such vows. This again was ignorance. The intention was not and could not have been absolute, which would have been clearly contrary to the probationary nature of the period of temporary vows. It was a conditional intention to renew the vows i[ no obstacle intervened in the meantime, S and this obstacle, if not always, would practically always have been the discovery by the institute or the subject that he or she had no vocation. There was almost an equal number of statements that a temporary profession was invalid if at the time a religious had the intention of not renewing or a superior of not admitting to a renewal on the expiration of a temporary profession. Canon 572 does not list such an intention among the requisites for a valid religious profession. Canon 488, 1°, does not append an invalidating clause to the necessity of this intention as required by canon 11. A requirement for liceity only will also sufficiently fulfill the required stability. An invalidating law according to canon 15 does not exist in a doubt of law, and there is certainly a doubt o See Larraona, op. cit., 2 (1921), 137, 209; 28 (1949), 205; Schaefer, op.ciL, n. 128; Jone, Commentarium in Codicem iuris canonici, I, 387; Padri Clarettiani, op.cit., nn. 3, 6; Vermeersch-Creusen, Epitome iuris canonici, I, n. 580; Goyeneche, op.cit., 9-10; De Carlo, Jus religiosorum, n. 2. ~ Provida Mater Ecclesia, Bouscaren-O'Connor, op.cit., 151. aSee Larraona, op.cit.o 2 (1921), 209 and note 81; 28 (1949)~ 205; Guti~rrez, ibid., 90. of law in the present caseP There was also a great deal of talk merely about promises, as if a vow were not a promise. Nor was there too much knowledge of sanctity of life and of the relation of the evangelical counsels and of vows to this sanctity. Sacred orders may not be conferred belore perpetual profession (n. 37; c. 964, 4°). For a just reason a higher superior may permit that a first profession be made outside the novitiate house (n. 20). The Instruction does not mention the commitment presumably because it is held that the prescription on place of canon 574, §1 applies only to vows. Readmission of one who legitimately left either after completing temporary vows or other commitment or a[ter being [reed from either. He may be readmitted by the superior general with the consent of his council, who is not obliged to prescribe another noviceship, nor an-other postulancy (c. 640, § 2), but is obliged to enjoin a previous period of probation and also a period of tem-porary vows or other commitment not less than a year nor less than the time that remained to be spent in this temporary probation before perpetual profession when the subject left. The superior general may prescribe a longer period of temporary vows or other commitment (n. 38). Immediate preparation for perpetual proIession and similar periods during tbmporary vows or other commit-ment. It is desirable that perpetual profession should be preceded by a sufficiently long immediate preparation something in the manner of a second noviceship. The duration and other aspects are to be determined by the general chapter (nn. 9, 35). It is also desirable that periods of withdrawing to prayer, meditation, and study be established during the time of temporary vows or other commitment (n. 25). Section IlL Application of the special norms. The par-ticular provisions axe called norms because they have been enacted for experimentation (VII). They are in effect from January 6, 1969 (VII). The norms and direc-tives of the Instruction appertain only to religious in-stitutes; other institutes of common life may but are not obliged to follow them (n. 3). Common law (canon law, laws enacted after the Code of Canon Law, laws of Vatican II, and postconciliar laws) remains in effect un-less derogated by this Instruction (I). The faculties granted by this Instruction may in no way be delegated g See Schaefer, op.cit., n. 128; Jone, op.cit., 387; Guti~rrez, ibid., note 65; Vermeersch, Periodica, 31 (1932), 122 ft.; Goyeneche, Corn. mentarium tyro religiosis, 16 (1935), 315-6; Vidal, De religiosis, n. 9, holds for invalidity. 4- 4- ÷ VOLUME 901 ~. F. Gallen, $.]. 902 to another (II), but they may be used by those who legiti-mately take the place of the superior general when there is no superior general or he is legitimately prevented from acting (IV). The same principle is true of the vicars of other higher superiors since they are actually exercising the office of the higher superior when accord-ing to the constitutions they take the place of a higher superior, such as a provincial, in the vacancy of the office, in his absence, or when he is otherwise impeded from fulfilling the duties of his office. There is nothing of such importance in the faculties granted in the Instruc-tion to higher superiors that would merit the exclusion of vicars from the exercise of such faculties. An abbot at the head of a monastic congregation is also to be understood under the name of superior general in this Instruction (III). In the case of nuns dedicated exclu-sively to the contemplative life, special norms shall be inserted into the constitutions and submitted for ap-proval, but the norms in numbers 22, 26-7 may be ap-plied to them (V). I[ the special general chapter has already been held, the superior general and his council acting collegially,x° after a careful study of all circumstances, are to decide whether a general chapter should be convoked to deliber-ate on the faculties granted to it or whether it would be preferable to await the next general chapter (VI). If they decide against the above convocation but also that the use of the faculties granted to the general chapter is urgent for the good of the institute, they, again acting collegially, have the power of putting all or some of the same faculties in use until the next gen-eral chapter provided they have previously consulted all other higher superiors and their councils and have ob-tained their two-thirds affirmative vote. These other higher superiors should have it at heart to consult previ-ously the professed of perpetual vows. In institutes with no provinces, the superior general must consult the l~rofessed of perpetual vows and obtain the affirmative vote of two-thirds OgI). The following appertain to the general chapter: with a two-thirds vote: to introduce periods of formative ac-tivity in the noviceship (n. 23) and a different tempo-rary commitment (n. 34); with the vote prescribed by the constitutions: to make determinations for the pos-tulancy (n. 12); to decide on the permissible contacts of the novices (n. 28); to permit or command studies during the noviceship (n. 29); to determine the dress of the novices and other candidates (n. 33); to determine the duration of the probation between the noviceship See REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 19 (1960), 131-2. and perpetual profession and other aspects of the same probation (nn. 35-6-7); and experimentally to enact other matters that imply a change in the constitutions, for example, in numbers 16, 22, and 27. The following appertain to the superior general: with the consent of his council: the institution of a novitiate (n. 16) and of many novitiates in the same province, having consulted the interested provincial (n. 17); the making of the noviceship in a house that is not a noviti-ate house (n. 19); the readmission of one who legiti-mately left either after completing temporary vows or other commitment or after being freed from either (n. 38); alone: to permit the group of novices to reside for a time in another house designated by him (n. 16); to per-mit a small group of novices to make their noviceship in a house more suitable for community life (n. 18); with the council acting collegially: to decide on the calling of a general chapter to implement the Instruction or to permit, without a general chapter, the use of the facul-ties granted in the Instruction, after consulting all other higher superiors and their councils and having obtained the affirmative vote of two-thirds of them or of the pro-fessed of perpetual vows when the institute does not have provinces (VI). The following appertain to higher superiors: alone: to permit first profession outside the novitiate house (n: 20); to permit that first profession be anticipated but not beyond fifteen days (n. 26); after consulting the master of novices: to decide on a supplying of absence of a novice of less than three months (n. 22); and it is rec-ommended that higher superiors below the superior general previously consult the professed of perpetual vows on the use of faculties of the Instruction without having a general chapter (VI). Spiritual principles of the Instruction. In the intro-duction to the Instruction, the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes stated that the reason Vatican II gave no small measure of attention to reli-gious was that the Church might have a greater abun-dance of spiritual strength and be better prepared to proclaim the message of salvation to the men of our age; quoted Lumen gentium, numbers 44-5, to the effect that the state of the evangelical counsels appertains to the sanctity of the Church and that the practice of these counsels is uniquely effective for the perfection of the love of God and of the neighbor; spoke of the duty of religious institutes to renew their spiritual, evangelical, and apostolic lives; recalled that no loss was to be per-mitted in the basic values of the religious life; and de-clared the necessity of defining again the principal as-pects of this life. Formation VO'LUME 28, 1969 9O3 I. F. Ga//en,~$.l. REVIEW FOR REI.~G~OU$ 90; In the first section, which treats of principles and criteria, the Sacred Congregation reaffirmed that pro-fession of the evangelical counsels is a total consecration of one's person to God; that both from the teaching of the Church and the nature of this consecration the vow of obedience appertains to the essence of religious pro-fession; that by this consecration the religious exercises the perfection of apostolic charity, even though the apostolate is not the primary purpose of religious pro-fession; and that it may not be said that the nature of religious profession is to be changed or its proper de-mands lessened. The Sacred Congregation stated that the noviceship retains its irreplaceable role in formation; that novices are to be taught the cohesive unity that should link contemplation and apostolic activity; and that this unity is one of the fundamental and primary values of apostolic institutes. The achievement of this unity requires a~proper un-derstanding of the realities of the supernatural life and of the paths leading to a deepening of union with God in the unity of the one supernatural love for God and for man, finding expression at times in the solitude of inti-mate communing with the Lord and at others in the generous giving of self to apostolic activity. Young reli-gious must be taught that this unity, so eagerly sought and toward which all life tends in order to find its full development, cannot be attained on the level of activity alone, or even be psychologically experienced, for it resides in that divine love which is the bond of perfec-tion and which surpasses all understanding. The attainment of this unity, which cannot be achieved without long exercise of self-denial or without persevering efforts toward purity of intention in action, demands in those institutes faithful compliance with the law inherent in the spiritual life itself, which con-sists in arranging a proper balance of periods set aside for solitude with God and others devoted to various activities and to the human contacts which these in-volve (n. 5). The Sacred Congregation maintained that suitable maturity was required that the religious state be a means of perfection and not a burden too heavy to carry, as also the desirability that the perpetual con-secration to God of perpetual vows be preceded by a sufficiently long immediate preparation spent in recol-lection and prayer that could be like a second novice-ship. The second section of the Instruction is on special or particular norms and contains the following spiritual ideas and principles. The novices are to develop that union with Christ which is to be the source of all their apostolic activity; conformably to the teaching of our Lord in the gospel, the formation of the noviceship con-sists especially in initiating the novices gradually into detachment from everything not connected with the kingdom of God; that they learn to practice humility, obedience, poverty, to be instant in prayer, to maintain union with God, along with a soul receptive to the inspirations of the Holy Spirit, and to be mutually and spiritually helpful to one another in a sincere and un-feigned charity; they are to study and meditate on Holy Scripture; to be formed in the spiritual doctrine and practice required for the development of a supernatural life, union with God, and the understanding of the re-ligious state; they are to be initiated into the liturgical life and the spiritual discipline proper to their own in-stitute; they are to be given the occasions for striving to preserve faithful union with God in the active life; for the novices there is to be a balancing of periods of ac-tivity and of those given to recollection in prayer, medi-tation, and study to stimulate them to remain faithful to it throughout life, and a similar balancing is desirable during the years of formation before perpetual profes-sion. The Instruction reaffirmed the principle of the spiritual life and of Perfectae caritatis, number 8, that apostolic activity must have its source in intimate union with Christ and that therefore all the members should seek God only and above all, and unite contemplation by which they adhere to Him in mind and heart with apostolic love, in which they are associated with the work of redemption and strive to spread the kingdom of God; that novices are likewise to be formed in purity of intention and love for God and man; to learn to use this world as if they did not use it; realize that devotion to God and man demands a humble control of self; culti-vate the necessary human and spiritual balancing of the times given to the apostolate and the service of men and of the properly prolonged periods, in solitude or in com-munity, dedicated to prayer and to the meditative read-ing of the Sacred Scriptures. By fidelity to this most necessary and important program in all such institutes, the novices will gradually develop a peaceful union with God, which comes from conformity to the will of God. They must learn to discern the divine inspirations in the duties of their state, especially those of justice and charity. A mutual confidence, docility, and openness are to be fostered between superiors, the master of novices, and the novices that the master may be able to direct the generosity of the novices to a complete gift of themselves to God and lead them gradually to discern in the mys-tery of Christ crucified the demands of true religious + + + Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 905 obedience, and in this manner inspire them to an active and responsible obedience. The Instruction affirms with sufficient emphasis that the religious s~ate is different from secular institutes and from the state of the laity. ~. F. Gall~, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS SISTER MARY PATRICIA NORTON A New Form Community oJ Religious Government The custom that has been traditionally followed in women's religious communities of focusing all authority, responsibility, and decision-making in one person at the local, regional, and generalate level has, we believe, been a custom that grew up as a result of historical circumstances. When some of the original women's re-ligious communities were founded, there was a com-paratively small number of the members that were well educated. There has, of course, always been a local, regional, and general council to assist and advise the superior; but in actual practice the superior has gen-erally led an overburdened existence, weighed down by the responsibility of major decisions. Since the founding of the early communities, the pic-ture has changed dramatically. The rank and file sisters are no longer uneducated followers. Vatican Council II has told us that the Holy Spirit breathes up ~rom below, that is, He speaks and points out the way through the person of each and every member of the community. In the summer of 1967, the 48 Maryknoll Sisters working in Korea, considering the problems of the past, the directions of the future, and the urgings of Vatican Council II (that "all members of the community have a share in the welfare of the whole community and a responsibility for it"--~om the Decree on Ap-propriate Renewal o[ Religious Life, n. 14), began to draw up a new plan for regional government. This plan was to provide for sharing more broadly the burdens of responsibility, participation of every member in the decision-making and planning of community affairs, and to foster in each member a mature spirit of initiative and involvement. The experiment is at present under way with three elected members now jointly sharing the responsibilities that had previously belonged to the regional superior. 4, 4, Siste~ Patricia Norton is missioned at the Maryknoll Hospital; P.O. Box 77; Pusan, Korea. VOLUME 28, 1969 907 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOU$ (Note: The work of the Maryknoll Sisters in Korea is designated as a regional unit.) No one of these is superior to the others in authority or responsibility. Each one is responsible in the area that has been allotted to her: Personnel, Administration-finance, and Planning-research respectively. These three sisters are known as the Regional Team. Although each one has her area of responsibility, she does not bear this burden alone. Each of these team members has a corresponding committee of 4 regular members and one alternate member. Each committee meets once a month and the results of these meetings constitute the agenda for the meeting of the Regional Team (the three team leaders). The Regional Team also aims at meeting monthly as high priority has been placed on the value of close and frequent communications. It is felt that real participation of each and every mem-ber of the region is dependent on the thoroughness of these communications. In addition to the monthly meetings of both team and committees, good communications are fostered by availa-bility of the minutes of the Regional Team, of each of the three committees, and the publication of the agenda before each meeting. With the publishing of the agenda, each sister is invited to respond with her ideas, sugges-tions, objections, and so forth to any item on the agenda. This is one technique to insure participation by every individual. Furthermore, all those sisters who are neither mem-bers of the team nor of one of the committees become members of an interest area. The latter means that the sister has indicated her interest in one of the areas, follows the activities of that committee in par-ticular, and is ready at any time to fully participate. The Maryknoll Sisters are divided among six houses in Korea. In the event that one of these houses does not have a particular committee member, one of the in-terest area members acts as contact person for that house. Planning for this experiment began in early Fall of 1967. It was formally inaugurated at a regionwide work-shop in October of that year. Since that time it has undergone several evaluations resulting in both minor and major changes. What so far have been the advantages and disad-vantages in regard to this experiment? Some of the disadvantages: ---outsiders who have contacts with the Maryknoll Sisters do not understand it; --it is expensive (train travel and postage) and time consuming; ---it deprives the other sisters of that leisure they used to have while the superior did all the work. Some of the advantages: --it takes the heavy, burden from the shoulders of one person and spreads it" out over the shoulders of all; --it provides for the utilization of the ideas, inspira-tions, and talents of each person rather than just two or three; --it provides for decisions to be made at the level at which they are carried out; --it helps to uncover and develop leadership qualities in a wider spectrum O[ persons; ---it allows for a more truly Christian li[e [or each sister as a completely participating person, con-scious of her own role of responsibility for the success or failure of Maryknoll works in Korea; ---it cuts down dissatisfaction and provides a channel for rectifying any dissatis[actions that may occur. The comment was made by one observer: "It deprives the religious of that necessary sacrifice involved in obedience to a superior." Those who have been living ¯ this experiment would strongly differ. Obedience is not a vanished thing. It is merely the focus that has changed. Decisions are made through group-to-group or individ-ual- to-group dialogue and the individual remains open and ready to obey the results of this dialogue. It is now two years since the initial idea for this type of government was discussed. Since that time there have been many pros and cons, many wrinkles to be ironed out. It has been said by informed sources that such an arrangement Without ultimate responsibility resting in one person can never be a success. The Maryknoll Sisters are willing to concede that this may be true. But they are not willing to concede without an earnest trial. ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 28, 1969 9O9 WILLIAM A. HINNEBUSCH, O.P. Origins and Development oJ Religious Orders William A. Hin-nebusch, O.P., teaches ecclesiastical history at the Do-minican House of Studies; 487 Michi-gan Avenue, Waahington, D.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 910 An# attentive study of the origins and history of reli-gious orders reveals that there are two primary currents in religious life--contemplative and apostolic. Vatican II gave clear expression to this fact when it called on the members of every community to "combine contem-plation with apostolic love." It went on to say: "By the former they adhere to God in mind and heart; by the latter they strive to associate themselves with the work of redemption and to spread the Kingdom of God" (PC, 5). The orders1 founded before the 16th century, with the possible exception of the military orders, recognized clearly the contemplative element in their lives. Many of them, however, gave minimum recognition to the apos-tolic element, if we use the word "apostolic" in its pres-ent- day meaning, but not if we understand it as they did. In their thinking, the religious life was the Apos-tolic life. It reproduced and perpetuated the way of living learned by the Apostles from Christ and taught by them to the primitive Church of Jerusalem. Since it was lived by the "Twelve," the Apostolic life included preaching and the other works of the ministry. The pas-sage describing the choice of the seven deacons in the Acts of the Apostles clearly delineates the double ele-ment in the Apostolic life and underlines the contem-plative spirit of the Apostles. The deacons were to wait on tables; the Apostles were to be free to devote them-selves "to prayer and the ministry of the word" (Acts 6:~4~). ¯ This is the text of an address given to the annual meeting of United States major superiors of men religious held in June, 1968, at Mundelein, Illinois. x I use the words, "order," "monasticism," and their derivatives in a wide sense to include all forms of the religious life. In its strict sense "monasticism" applies only to the monks and does not extend to the friars and the clerks regular. There were, however, exceptions to the general rule that monks did not engage in the ministry. An Eastern current of monasticism, influenced by John Chrysostom, viewed missionary work as a legitimate activity of the monk; and, as we shall see, many Western monks shared this conviction. Nevertheless, missionary activity did not become an integral part of monasticism. Even after most monks became priests, they considered their vocation to lie within the monastery where they could contemplate and dedicate themselves to the service of God. Since the clergy did not embrace the religious life, with the ex-ception of those of Eusebius of Vercelli and Augustine of Hippo, the ministerial element remained generally absent from the religious life until the development of the canons regular. In itself the life of the monks was exclusively contemplative. "Tradition assigns no other end to the life of a monk than to 'seek God' or 'to live for God alone,' an ideal that can be attained only by life of penance and .prayer. The first and fundamental manifestation of such a vocation is a real separation from the world." Yet in the thinking of the monks and of the friars, who integrated apostolic activity into the religious life, their prayer, contemplation, and example were mighty forces working for the upbuilding of the Body of Christ. Foundation o[ Monasticism Though other Scriptural elements contributed to the origin of monasticism, the concept of the Apostolic life was the decisive force. This truth has been demon-strated by historians who have been studying this point for over half a century; it has recently been dis-cussed scripturally by Heinz Schiirmann, professor of New Testament exegesis at Erfurt. The historians show how the life of the Apostles and the primitive Christians influenced the origins and growth of monasticism; Schiirmann makes clear that the constitutive elements of the religious life were taught to and demanded of the Apostles by Christ. Religious life is rooted in the key Biblical texts that record the calling and formation of the Apostles. These passages determine the character of the Apostolic office and the relationship of the Apostles to Jesus. They are to be with Him, listen to Him, and follow Him. His call is rigorous and imperious. He demands commitment without reserve. Negatively, this requires a complete break with one's previous life: family, wife, home, and oc-cupation; positively, it establishes the Apostles in a state of total availability. Abandoning their possessions, their means of livelihood and, like the lily and raven, trusting completely in divine providence, they follow Christ, + ÷ ÷ Religious Orders VOLUME 28, 1969 9]] W. A. Hinnebusch, 0~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 912 putting themselves in a student-teacher, servant-master relationship to Him. All .the features of their new life with Him are already conveyed in brief in Mark's ac-count of their call: And going up a mountain, he called to him men of his own choosing, and they came to him. And he appointed twelve that they might be with him and that he might send them forth to preach (3:13-5). In this text, too, we find the first s~atement of the contemplative and apostolic elements that reappear in the religious life. They are "to be with him." Here is the contemplative element. They are "with him," devoting themselves to the "one thing necessary"--listening to His word. Yet in hearing and learning .they are made ready so "that he might send them forth to preach." As Schiirmann summarizes it: First they hear and learn, then they teach and act: "Preaching isonly one part of their life and its follows from the other." The Apostles enter irrevocably into a community of life with Jesus. They share His life and destiny: eat with Him, walk the dusty roads with Him, serve the people with Him, undergo His trials, conflicts, persecu-tions. They must be ready to hate and even to lose their lives for His sake. He wants total obedience, one based on their "faith in Him who calls and proposes the word of God in an entirely unique fashion. Their following of Christ becomes understandable only as a permanent state of profession of faith., fit] opens up a new pos-sibility of existence, a new manner of being-in-the-world, a new 'state' of life." Though the Apostles take no vows, their life is that of the three counsels. Christ imposes no greater moral de-mands on them than on all the other believers, but they alone live this close community life with Him. Not all who declare for Christ are chosen by Him to follow Him in this intimate, permanent way. Obviously Mary, Martha, and Lazarus do not. Others asked to be ad-mitted into the group of disciples but were not accepted. Mark (5:18-19) describes one case: As Jesus was getting into the boat, the man who had been afflicted by the devil began to entreat him that he might re-main with him. And he did not allow him, but said to him, "Go home to thy relatives, and tell them all that the Lord has done for thee, and how he has had mercy on thee." (See also Mt 11:28, Mk 3:35, Lk 12:8-9, 10:38-42, 9:61-2.) Being with Christ constantly, hearing His word, com-pletely obedient to His wishes, separated from family, home, and occupation, the Apostles enter a new form of existence that signifies. The prime purpose of their spe-cialized following is to declare themselves openly for Him, so that all might come to believe in Him. In a strikingly visible way their intimate following pro-claims to the Jewish world that the one thing necessary is to hear the word of Christ and to keep it. Their visi-ble, stable following becomes a sign to the world. Only after they have made this permanent commitment are they sent out to preach and to act. At every step in monastic history, whether in its ori-gins, renewals, or creation of new forms, the Apostolic life taught by Christ to the Twelve, and by them to the primitive Christian community of Jerusalem, was the leading and most powerful influence. The Gospel texts and those in the Acts of the Apostles that describe the primitive community were decisive in creating the con-cept of monasticism and in fashioning its life and usages. In the Jerusalem community we find fraternal unanim-ity, common ownership of possessions, fidelity to the teachings of Christ, common public prayer, intense pri-vate prayer. The following passages embody all these features: Now the multitude of the believers were of one heart and soul, and not one of them said anything he possessed was his own, but they had all things in common (Acts 4:32). And they continued steadfastly in the teaching of the apostles, and in the communion of the breaking of bread and in the prayers. And all who believed were together and held all things in common. And continuing daily with one accord in the temple, and breaking bread in. their houses, they took their food with gladness and simplicity of heart, praising God and being in favor with all people (Acts 2:42-7; see also 1:14, 3:1, 6:4,34; Mt 10:gff). The ministry of the word, evangelical preaching of salvation, was c~irried out by the Apostles (Mk 6:6-13; Acts 6:4), a mission that entailed indefatigable journey-ing (Mt 10:7if; Mk 6:6-13; Acts 6:4). Only the pre-dominately lay character of early monasticism delayed the full realization of the ministerial mendicant orders. For centuries monks examined and lovingly scruti-nized the texts. The power that they exercised over monastic founders is illustrated by the passage where Athanasius describes the origin of Antony's vocation in his Life of Antony: As he was walking along on his way to Church, he col-lected his thoughts and reflected how the Apostles left every-thing and followed the Savior; also how the people in Acts sold what they had and laid it at the feet of the Apostles for distribution among the needy; and what great hope is laid up in Heaven for such as these. With these thoughts in his mind he entered the church. And it so happened that the Gospel was being read at that moment and he heard the passage in which the Lord says to the rich man: "If thou wilt be perfect, ¯ go sell all that thou hast, and give it to the poor; and come, follow me and thou shalt have treasures in heaven," 4- 4- Religious Orders VOLUME 28~ 1969 W. A. Hinnebusch, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS As though God had been speaking directly to him, An-tony left the church, sold what he had, gave it to the poor, and went into the desert. During subsequent centuries the Scriptures lost none of their influence over monasticism. The Apostolic texts led to much more than the abandonment of riches and fleeing the world; they provided a complete program of life in community. Explaining the origins of monasti-cism about 1122 A.D., Abbot William of Saint-Thierry shows how the meditation of hundreds of years had sys-tematized the Scriptural influence: We come to this spiritual sbciety of which the Apostle Paul spoke to the Philippians (2:1-5; 3:17) in praise of the regular discipline and of the sublime joy of brothers living together in unanimity. To do justice to this discipline it is necessary to return to its beginning in the time of the Apostles, since it was the Apostles themselves who instituted it as their own way of life, according to the teaching of the Lord. Unless it was the grace of the Holy Spirit which gave them power from above to live together in such a way that all would have but one heart and one soul, so that everything would be held in common, and all would be continually in the temple in a spirit of harmony. Animated by a great !ove for this form of life instituted by the Apostles, certain men wished no longer to have any other house or any other lodging than the hbuse of God, the house of prayer. All that they did they did according to a common program, under a common rule. In the name of the Lord they lived together, possessing nothing of their own, not even their bodily strength, nor were they even masters of their own will. They lay down to sleep at the same time, they rose up together, they prayed, they sang Psalms, they studied together. They showed the fixed and changeless will of being obedient to their superiors and of being entirely submissive to them. They kept their needs to a minimum and lived with very little; they had poor clothes, a mean diet, and limited everything according to a very precise rule. Influence o[ Cassian Soon after Antony went into the desert, the influence of the Scriptures on monastic origins was enhanced by a misconception of Eusebius and Jerome, who mistakenly believed that the Apostolic life of the primitive Jerusa-lem community was followed in Alexandria, Rome, and other centers. Writing a century later, Cassian developed this misconception and found in it th~ explanation of the rise of monasticism: The conversion of the Gentiles forced an abandonment of the Apostolic way by the ma-jority of Christians, even by the clergy. More zealous souls refused to give it up and founded communities to perpetuate it. This theory was very fruitful in its effects when it was coupled with the example of Antony and Pachomius, the founder of the cenobitic life, who were inspired by the Scriptures alone. This fusion constituted a powerful op- erative force in the development of monasticism for many centuries. Scarcely any monastic 'author was read so continuously as Cassian. As late as the thirteenth cen-tury, St. Dominic was reading his Conferences. Con-stantly read and reread, Cassian's books [ashioned the medieval--and our ownnmonastic life. The Holy Spirit at Work in the Church The truth underlying Cassian's error is the almost simultaneous appearance of the religious life everywhere that the Church took root. The origin of the monastic life was a spontaneous manifestation of the Holy Spirit impelling Christians to live the life of the counsels taught by Jesus. Antony was merely the first to emerge, thanks to Athanasius, from the anonymity that conceals the virgins, celibates, and ascetics who preceded him. The impetus of the Spirit is seen particularly in the early acceptance of the virginal life by both men and women as a prime means of following the Master. From the end of the first century there are references to ascetics who lived continently "in honor of the flesh of Christ." After the third century virgins were looked upon as "the most illustrious portion of the flock of Christ" and were considered the spouses of Christ. Perfect continence, to-gether with voluntary poverty and austerity of life, was a constitutive element of the ascetical life that began to develop in the second century. Though these ascetics lived in their homes, sometimes holy women, widows, and virgins formed small communities that were marked by considerable personal freedom. The general reverence of the Church for chastity when Antony became a hermit about 300 A.D. accounts in large measure for the immediate wide diffusion of the eremitic and cenobitic forms of monasticism throughout the Christian world. The dynamic power of the Holy Spirit has been con-stantly operative during the history of the religious life. Here again there is a link with the early community of Jerusalem. These Christians, as we find their record in Acts, were very conscious of the action of the Spirit in their lives and apostolic works. Theirs was a life lived in the ~lan of the Spirit, as Vicaire remarks. ImmediateIy after describing the primitive community, the Acts of the Apostles goes on to say: "And great grace was upon them all" (4:33). This grace made itself visible even by miracles: "And many wonders and signs were done through the apostles" (2:43). When William of Saint-Thierry, whom I quoted a few pages back, described monastic origins, he manifested the awareness the monks had that the charismatic power of the Spirit was at work among them. In William's think-ing it was the "grace of the Holy Spirit which gave [the ÷ ÷ 4. Religious Orders VOLUME 28, 1969 W. A o Hinnebusch~ O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Apostles] power from above to live together in such a way that all would have but one heart and one soul, so that everything would be held in common . '~ Cen-turies before, Gregory the Great, writing his Dialogues within fifty years of the death of Benedict, described the great patriarch of Western monasticism as the ideal "man of God," the spiritual father who was entirely under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. The attention paid to the miracles worked by the founders and great figtires of monastic history is not merely a thoughtless emphasis on the secondary but was motivated by. the belief that the true monk, living in community, possesses an extraordinary grace for radiat-ing sanctity and contributing to the upbuilding of the B6dy of Christ. He can even receive from the Spirit the power of working miracles. The present-day interest in the charismatic character of the religious life and the charismatic founders is a legitimate, more explicit, recognition of the power of the Spirit working through all the years of monastic history. His role in the religious life deserves more attention and should awaken in us a great hope in the future of the religious life. Antony the Hermit Monasticism entered the pages of history close to the year 300 A.D. when Antony, the great hermit, gave away his possessions and retired to the Egyptian desert. The holiness and ordered discipline of his life, characterized by solitary contemplation and a severe but lofty and well-balanced asceticism soon brought other hermits to him for direction. Great colonies of solitaries arose under Antony's direction, especially at Pispir, where he lived, and at Nitria and Scete. These disciples lived alone like their master. Antony found so many imitators because of his moral greatness at a time of growing wickedness in the contemporary world. When Constantine ended the per-secutions and began to favor Christianity, the consequent lowering of the moral level of Christian life stimulated the development of a powerful ascetical movement, in-spired by the Gospels, on the ~ringes of the populated world. Antony became the model of the movement, especially after the appearance of his Life, written by Athanasius in 357 A.D., a year after Antony died. Gre-gory of Nazianzen called it "a rule of monastic life in the form of a narrative." Athanasius, who had known Antony personally and had seen him often, considered "the life of Antony an ideal pattern of the ascetical life." He intended to hold up Antony as the exemplar of the consecrated life and induce his readers to imitate what they saw. The work enjoyed a~tonishing success and was shortly translated into various languages. Antony, earnestly desiring to die the death of a martyr, went to Alexandria in 311 A.D., when the persecution of Maximin Daja broke out, to minister to the confessors in the mines and prisons, not thinking it justified to turn himself over to the authorities. When his hopes were dis-appointed, Antony returned to his desert cell where "he was a daily martyr to his conscience, ever fighting the battles of the faith. For he practiced a zealous and more intense ascetic life." With this short passage Athanasius enriched monasticism at its very birth with a positive view of asceticism and the renunciations involved in the life of the counsels. Antony's life in the desert was a substitute martyrdom and the monk the successor to the . martyr, a concept that remains alive to this day. Pachomius the Cenobite The weakness of the ei:emitical life lay in the minimal opportunity for practicing charity. Pachomius remedied this defect when he formed a genuine fellowship based on the communal charity inherent in Christianity. He composed the first monastic Rule, in it establishing the economic and spiritual bases for the common life and providing for community government. A younger con-temporary of Antony, Pachomius first served an appren-ticeship under the hermit Palaemon. Then about the year 320 A.D. he established a monastery at Tabennisi on the right bank of the Nile. Other monasteries soon followed, so that when he died, nine for men and two for women were under his guidance. These foundations were large settlements of monks who were organized into smaller groups according to the kind of agricultural work they did or the crafts they practiced. They lived a disciplined life, practiced individual poverty and de-tachment in essential matters, supported themselves by remunerative work, gathered for prayers morning and evening, and observed the three counsels, though they took no vows. Numerous biographies testify to the esteem in which Pachomius was held and the extent of his in- ~uence. Basil the Great The eremitical and cenobitic types of monasticism spread quickly both in East and West. Basil the Great, who benefited from the experience of the previous half century bf monastic experience, became the lawgiver of Eastern monasticism when he wrote his Longer R