Suchergebnisse

Issue 40.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1981. ; Volume 40 Number 6 Nov./Dec., 198;I REvtEw I:OR REto~(;~OUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. REVIEW Rt.'t.lcaous is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1981 by REvtEw ~:OR REI.IGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year; $17.00 for two years. Other countries: $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. I:or subscription orders or change of address, wrile: REVIEW I-'OR REt.~(;~OUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor Nov./Dec., 1981 Vo/ume 40 Number 6 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence wilh the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR Rt:t.tG~OUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd,; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprinls should be ordered from RI-:VIEW I-'OR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles n;~t published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Development of a Constitution Mary Kevin Hollow, S.C.L. Sister Mary Kevin, Community Director of the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth, details here the process of their community's work of revision of their Constitution, which was submitted to the Sacred Congregation for Religious in May, 1981. Sister resides in the motherhouse: Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth; Leavenworth; KS 66048. The Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth, a pontifical institute, originated in the Diocese of Nashville in 1851. The religious community was formed by a group of Sisters Of Charity of Nazareth at the request of Bishop Richard Pius Miles. In God's Providence, many of these same sisters, with the encourage-menLof Reverend Pierre-Jean DeSmet, S.J., accepted the invitation of Right Reverend Bishop Miege, S.J., to come to Leavenworth (Kansas) in the Indian Territory. When asked by the bishop what the requirements of the community would be, Mother Xavier Ross, the foundress, asked that the sisters be .allowed to carry out "to the letter the Rules and Constitutions of St. Vincent de Paul.''~ On November I I., 1858, five,professed sisters, two postulants and one orphan girl reached Leavenworth by steamer late in the evening. In that frontier city, the sisters soon opened an academy (1860), an orphanage (I 863) and a hospital (1864).Christian education of youth, care of the sick, the poor and,orphaned continue to be the "works" of the sisters to this day. As new members joined the original small band, the Sisters of Charity of Leaven-worth set out from the Mother House for dioceses in California, Colorado, "Illinois, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, New Mexico, Oklahoma, Wyoming and 'to Peru and Bolivia. Some 1700 women have joined the community since 1858; the community now numbers over 600. Rule From the beginning, the sisters intended to pattern their lives after the manner and ,thought of the Apostle of Charity, St. Vincent de Paul. An 111~2 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 undated note in Mother Xavier's handwriting says that she petitioned Pope Plus IX "to approve and sanction our practicing the Rules and Constitutions of St. Vincent de Paul (for the Daughters of Charity in France under the title of 'Sisters of Charity').''2 After the usual procedures, the congregation received definitive papal appr.obation in 1922. In 1958 and 1963, some modifi-cations of the Constitution, approved by Chapter Enactments, were submitted to Rome, but the Constitution.remained substantially the same. After Vatican II The Church summoned religious throughout the world to "renew and adapt." Communities were given permission, by way of experimentation, to alter temporarily certain prescriptions of their constitutions, provided that the nature, purpose and character of the institutes were safeguarded. Religious began the study of the documents of Vatican II, especially the decree Perfectae caritatis and the constitution Li~men gentium (chapters 5 and 6 especially), the motu proprio Ecclesiae sanctae and, later, the exhortation Evangelica testificatio. The Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth, women of the Church, cooperated with the new direction set by the Church. The Mother General and her council involved all the sisters in a community develo.pment of a set of schemata devoted to the major facets of the religious life as this pertains to our congregation,s Research of primary sources in the community archives and other centers draws attention to the importance of understanding our original spirit.4 Sis-ters were asked to articulate responses to the question, "Who are we as Sisters ~ Histoo' of the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth. Kansas. 1898. p. 45. 2Addenda Regarding the Code of Life for Religious. Special Commission on the Constitution and Customs, SCL Community Studies. 1967-68. JSisters of Charity of Leavenworth, Community Study 1967-1968: "The Sisters in the Church," "Life of the Counsels," "The Apostolate." "The Person in Community," "Government." "Spiritu-ality," and "Community." 4Our Vincentian Heritage: a study based on archival materials immediately connected with Mother Xavier Ross and on an analysis of the Letters of St. Vincent de Paul. Study of the Spirit of the Community. as shown in circular letters of the major superiors prior to 1950. The Spirituality of Mother Mao' Berchmans Carman, S. C. L. by Sister Rose Dominic Gabisch, S.C.L. Instructions to the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth, given at the Mother House by Mother Xavier Ross. Archival material at the Mother House: several notebooks, written in Mother Xavier Ross's almost illegible handwriting, and a typed copy of the contents by Mother Leo Frances Ryan. S.C.L. and Sister Rose Dominic Gabisch. S.C.L. Comparative Study of the Constitutions, from the "Old Rule" through the Constitutions of 1915. 1922. 1958 and 1963. Parallels, a study of scriptural and theological foundations for the religious life following our present 1963 Constitutions. Development of a Constitution / 1103 of Charity of Leavenworth in the Church in the world?''s Special Chapter The Special General Chapter (1968-69) was the community's direct and formal response to Pope Paul Vl's mandate in Ecclesiae sanctae to implement the conciliar decrees. This Special Chapter, like Vatican Council I1, had for its program of action aggiornamento: "a stimulias to preserve the perennial vital-ity of the Church, its continual awareness and ability of studying the signs of the times, and its constantly youthful agility in 'thinking before an~,thing is done and holding on to what is good.'''6 The resultant interim documents, A Life of Charity and Living in Charity,7 represent "the results of the serious attempts of the community to respond to the challenge of th~ times and to the current needs of the Church.''8 The first book embodied the key themes and principles enunciated by the Special Chapter. The second .book showed how these principles and themes were to be carried out. Its revised edition9 was derived from the directives of the Eleventh General Chapter of the congregation (1973-74). 1974-19110 Elected in July, 1974, the Community Director and her Community Council, as the congregation's major superior and council are now known, were aware that the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council had said that the "prudent experiments" begun during the Special Renewal Chapters could be continued until the next ordinary general chapter. That ordinary chapter would be empowered to grant a further prolongation of prudent experimenta-tion, but not beyond the date of the subsequent chapter. The Community Director and Community Council knew that religious communities were expected to be working toward the text of their revised constitution for pres-entation for approval to the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes. This meant, for the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth, that the Twelfth Community Chapter of 1980 would be the second ordinary chapter beyond its "Renewal Chapter" of 1968-69. The Community Director and ~he Community Council, during their 5Statements on Nature and Purpos~ of the Sisters of Charit'y of Leavenworth by Members of the Community, "Resource for Schema on the Code of Life for Religious, a Self-Study." 6Ecclesiam Suam, n. 50. 7See A Life of Charity and Living in Charity, Directives of the Special Chapter of the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth. 1968-69. 8Mother Leo Frances Ryan, S.C.L., ~'Circular Letter to the Community," Feast of the Resurrec-tion, 1970. 9See Living in Charity, Revised Edition. Directives of the Eleventh General Chapter of the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth, 1973-74. I~Ol~ / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 annual planning days, came to key decisions: the community needed a clear statement of its mission in the Church in today's world, an "'agreed upon" articulation of its charism, and a definite expression of the community's manner of observing the three evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity and obedience. The director and council thought it time to mind Mother Xavier Ross's words: "It is wisdom to pause, to look back and see by what straight or twisting ways we have arrived at the place we find ourselves." Serious ques-tions needed probing. How deep is our spiritual renewal? Which of the "pru-dent experiments" produced the "good fruit"?. The sisters of the congregation needed to reflect prayerfully about these questions and to share their thoughts about their renewal experience with each other. The council sought a comprehensive plan that would involve all of the sisters, as well as each of the "standing committees" of the community--the Sisters' Forum, the Personnel Board, and the Spirituality Commission. The goal of this community involvement was to move soundly toward a written description of our basic identity and mission. If a set of obligations and responsibilities commensurate with that identity and mission could then be enunciated, a new Constitution would finally be developed. Strategy for Community Participation That comprehensive plan and its implementation are detailed in the fol-lowing pages covering the period 1978-1980. Special liturgical celebrations initiated all of the community occasions from the opening SCL Community Reflection on Ministry/Mission at the Sisters'Forum (March, 1978) to the concluding session of the Twelfth General Chapter (November, 1980). Too, the Spirituality Commission called all the sisters to a Year of Prayer and Penance for the 1980 chapter in June, 1979. Constitution Consultors The Constitution Consultors were a key group of sisters in the activities related to the development of the Constitution. These sisters, selected by the Community Director with the consent of the Community Council, were to be a resource group designed to facilitate the work of the community and, at the appropriate time, the work of the Community Chapter in its proper role of determining the final text of the Constitution. Each consultor was selected because of her special familiarity with the history of the community and its charism, her background in theology and Scripture, her ability to listen/facilitate, her ability to write clear English, her knowledge about psychological/human development or her experiential background in current social, trends~ All were Sisters of Charity of Leaven-worth for at least ten years. They were responsible to engage in a study aimed at acquiring expertise in the development of "the new law and the new consti-tutions," and then provide further service to the community for assimilating Development of a Constitution / 1105 "the new law and the new constitutions" for our times. A videotaped presenta-tion was succes.sfully, used in our communities throughout the country and in South America. The assistance of the Constitution Consultors proved invalu-able as the community moved through the various phases of developing the constitution. Reflection on Ministry/Mission The Community Director' presented the first formal introduction for what was to be a Reflection on Mission to the members of the Sisters' Forum on February ! i, 1978. Sister then set forth the time frame for the various activi-ties. The essential mission/ministry questions were addressed, and a bibliog-raphy distributed. Regional, local and area reflections were next in order. Personnel Board representatives scheduled meetings for sisters involved in each of the major "works" of the community. A common paper entitled "Mission and Ministry in John's Gospel and in Religious Life" was delivered at each such apostolate session. The Constitution Consultors circulated their tentative draft of the mission statement that incorporated, input from all these events. The sisters were invited to send responses and suggestions to the consuitors who revised their statement in light of these replies. They presented this revised Statement of the SCL Mission to the delegates of the chapter, and to its Commission on Mission/Ministry in particular. The commission further revised the state-ment, and the chapter approved this final form of the mission statement. It is in the new Constitution. This entire sequence of events surrounding the articulation of the mission statement was very valuable to the community and to the cohesiveness of the chapter in its work of development. Reflection on SCL Charism A workshop in the summer of 1979 prepared designated sisters to be group leaders for the charism reflection that was to take place throughout the com-munity. Sister Dominique Long, S.C.L., assisted by Sister Janice Futrell, O.S.B., from the Ministry Training Service in Denver, met with these sisters for an intense prep~aratiori. The sisters then successfully conducted "charism sessions" throughout the community. Again, the Constitution Consultors wrote a letter to the community explaining that they had reviewed the statements that resulted from these local meetings and extracted the key concepts common to most of the statements. They asked the sisters for a further response as the next step in the charism study. The conclusion was that the charism of the Sisters of Charity of Leaven-worth was already adequately expressed in the interim documents, and that the community seemed to favor threading the expression of our charism through those documents rather than attempting to formulate a specific 111)6 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 statement of charism. This information was made available to the chapter delegates. Study of the Vows In a circular letter reviewing community participation in the various phases of the Chapter Preparation, the Community Director next announced workshops on the vows at various regional centers. The Spirituality Commis-sion wrote all the sisters outlining the various materials available for the study of the vows. They enclosed a booklet, Focus on Vows, an annotated bibliog-raphy on the vows, and an article, "How to Live the Vows Today," by J.M.R. Tillard, O.P., together with some suggestions for a special celebration of the feast of Vincent de Paul. Ma'terial from the area reflections were sent by the Spirituality Commission to the Constitution Consultors for analysis. The material in summary form was then given to the Commission on Formation/ Spirituality of the Twelfth Community Chapter. Study of Interim Documents Next, the Constitution Consultors guided the community through an in-depth study of the interim documents, Life of Charity and Living in Charity. They offered a formal procedure by which each sister would prayerfully con-sider her personal experience of renewal in light of the interim documents" expression of the Gospel, the spirit of Mother Xavier "Ross, and the commun-ity response to the signs of the times. Several hours were required to finish the study (many sisters using more than one session of two hours). For example, they examined each page, section or norm in the document to evaluate its degree of importance in their lives. The over-all response was heartening. The vast majority of sisters returned a completed survey. The Constitution Con-sultors' analyses of the various sections of these responses were of invaluable assistance to the chapter delegates and to each commission of the chapter. The exercise not only renewed an appreciation of the community documents, it proved helpful to the writers of the Constitution as well. Proximate Preparation for Chapter The election of chapter delegates was scheduled early enough for all dele-gates to be available for a chapter-preparation workshop in December, 1979. The delegates established commissions (Spirituality]Formation, Mission/ Ministry, Community/Government and expressed their preference for joining one or the other. A panel of Constitution Consultors briefed the delegates on the work of the consultation, and distributed materials to each commission. At the preliminary meetings each commission explored what was to be the scope of its work, the manner of drafting proposals, and the function of the Chapter Central Committee. David Fleming, S.M., and Sister Mary Kevin Ford, C.S.J., spoke to the delegates on the chapter as an ecclesial/community event. The Personnel Board, a group of sisters representing each of the commu- Development of a Constitution nity's apostolates and ministries, drafted a pre-chapter questionnaire. The questionnaire surveyed each sister's thinking about community living, govern-ment, spirituality, formation, the vows, and apostolic service. Some questions required the sister to assess the entire decade of renewal. This survey, com-pleted by about 550 of the community's 630 sisters, enabled the respondent to .express her thoughts anonymously. Each sister sent the completed question-naire directly to Liguori Publications, a Missouri Religious Life Service Department, where the responses were tabulated by computer and the ques-tionnaires destroyed. Printouts in the categories of chronological age, time since first vows, and apostola.te were sent to each community. Data revealing the sisters' assessment of the renewal years came from answers to questions such as: "Which best expresses your opinion on the changes in our religious life? . When I reflect on my own personal experience of the decade of renew-al, 1 think that of all the areas of my life, the most positively affected aspect was: community living, ministry/apostolate, spirituality (prayer, liturgy, etc.), way of governance, observation of the vows." These computerized evaluation reports were sent to the chapter delegates. In February, 1979, the sisters received copies of the format for submitting proposals for the 1980 chapter with a "flow chart" that depicted the route of the proposal from the sender to the chapter delegates. A second and third mailing drew attention again to the procedure by which any sister or group of sisters could make a proposal for the delegates to consider in chapter. By the deadline (May !, 1980), 113 proposals had been forwardi:d to the respective commission chairperson. The Community/Government Commission received 45 proposals, the Spirituality/Formation, 35, and Mission/Ministry, 33. The Chapter Analysis of the Period of Renewal The Church, as early as 1950, encouraged religious to adapt themselves to the changing times, and to join the new and old in harmonious union. Our community response to that mandate touched every aspect of our religious life--our way of living, praying, working and governance. The varying ways of measuring the impact on our community of over a decade of intensive renewal and adaptation had been alluded to in, several of the previous sec-tions. It remained for each commission to bring together all of the informa-tion from the various community chapter-preparation activities, to sift it all carefully, and to present the commission's own assessment to the chapter. This was done early in the chapter sessions. Development of Proposals Six months after the delegates' pre-chapter workshop, all chapter commis-sions had to have the first draft of their proposals in the hands of all the delegates (May, 1980). All proposal's [rom the various community groups and individual sisters had, of course, been received earlier. At this time, the chair- III)11 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 persons of the three commissions, who themselves formed part of the Central Committee, estimated the number of proposals their respective commission would actually present to the assembly. From this information, the Central Committee drafted a tentative agenda which the delegates approved for the assembly sessions. The work of the chapter now entered a crucial phase, as the proposals were being honed for chapter action. In all, thirty of the proposals of the Spiritu-ality/ Formation Commission were enacted by the chapter, about half of these relating to vows and spirituality, the other half to formation. The Mission/ Ministry Commission's ten proposals were favorably acted upon by the dele-gates. And the chapter delegates passed twenty-nine proposals of the Com-mission on Community]Government, all but seven of them relating to governance. The chapter then recessed so that the Writing Committee, selected from among the Constitution Consultors, could commence its work. First Draft This committee set about the task of writing a draft of the Constitution which was to be presented to the chapter delegates for approval. The content of the draft was, of course, the material already approved by the Community Chapter. At the same time, the Writing Committee attempted to preserve the literary form of the interim documents. In general, they followed the principle that doctrinal, theological, inspirational and juridical.elements should be blended throughout the Constitution. The writers asked that each delegate and each sister read the circulated first draft, using for their criteria in reading clarity, simplicity, accuracy, brevity of language, and the conformity of the text with the enactments of the Community Chapter and the general law of the Church. The writers also had sent the draft to Father Thomas Clarke, S.J., and Father~ Francis Morrisey, O.M.I., for a critical reading of the text from a theological and canonical perspective respectively. Revised Draft After considering the recommendations of the chapter delegates, the other sisters in the community, and those of Father David O'Connor, a canonist (Father Morrisey had not returned from Rome in time to read the material), the Writing Committee prepared a revised draft of the Constitution. A copy of this revised draft was then sent to each local house. Each delegate also received a copy to study prior to the chapter meeting. In a covering letter, the writers explained that they had eliminated or revised some articles. In some instances, an article was removed because it merely repeated a canon that need not be repeated. In other instances, the writers acted on the advice to state only the substance of the chapter action in the Constitution, putting the other details into a book of chapter enactments. They explained that this would not change the nature of the chapter action, Development of a Constitution / 809 nor diminish the importance of its implementation. In any event, the letter stated, the delegates would meet to review and approve or not approve these decisions of the committee. Final Draft The Twelfth Community Chapter of the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth met for its final session to receive the report of the Constitution Consultors. The Constitution Consultors reported the changes incorporated by the writers by reason of the critique of the first draft made by the delegates themselves, as well as by the other sisters and experts consulted. Book I of the first draft, for example, had bee~n re-written in the first person. Sisters who had reviewed the earlier draft of the book, written in the second person, objected to this change. Delegates were asked to make additional editorial changes, reflecting the latest revisions, to conform with style and content suggestions. The president of the Chapter asked the delegates to consider both Book I and Book I1, section by section. Following this, the chairperson of the Consti-tution Consult'ors, herself a delegate to the Chapter, moved the acceptance of the Constitution as circulatetl, presented, discussed and amended by the Twelfth Community Chapter. The motion passed unanimously. The last action of the Chapter was to mandate that the Community Director and the Chairperson of the Constitution Consultors personally take the Constitution to Rome for presentation. And there the matter rests, a task completed and a future begun. The "Active-Contemplative" Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Let All God's Glory Through Donald Macdonald, S.M.M. Father Macdonald, whose last article, "To Experience God," appeared in the issue of March, 1981. has returned to England for a period of study. His present address is: Montfort Mission-aries: 18 Donaldson Rd.; London NW6 6N6; England. ~ remember once chatting with a young couple engaged to be married. When it was suggested that we have a cup of tea, the girl got up to put on the kettle. Seconds after she moved, the young man stood up, vaulted the settee on which he had been sitting, crossed the floor of the room and held the door open for the girl. Because possibly few religious have ever felt that way about anyone, or have ever received such attention in their adult lives, many find it hard to believe that this is the way God feels about them: "the Son of God. loved me and gave himself for me" (Ga 2:20) or, as a later age put it, "we are his [Jesus'] bliss, in us he delights without end."l Lacking such experience, our faith finds it hard to "take off." Nowhere, I think, is this more evident than in our attitude to our Lady. Many of us religious find it hard to credit that she is so loved by God, and, therefore, such a marvelously attractive person in her own right. We then tend to subject her to the slow death of a thousand qualifications. We are ill at ease with her, not because of anything she has done to us, but because we never' quite know how to "place" her. Our first introduction to her was, for many of us, in the company of our parents when we were children. They saw to it that we met someone they knew well on good days and bad. We entered religious congregations, only to find that our founders, too, shared a common devotion to her. The present Ho!y Father is evidently devoted to her, and this is seen by. more than the letter M on his coat-of-arms? Our Lady is part of the wider air ~Julian of Norwich. Revelations of Divine Love. Ch. 23, N.Y. 1977. 810 Let All God's Glory Through / 811 we breathe as Catholics. But, when we try to be more specific, we are uneasy. Have her anywhere near the center, and she seems to usurp the role of the Holy Spirit. This, of course, could never be acceptable--not least at the present time. Yet is she on the periphery of our relationship with God? It might be worthwhile looking again at Mary in the light of the Church and the Gospel. The Church has reminded us of the "various attitudes that bind her to Mary.: profound veneration., burning love., trusting invocation. loving service., zealous imitation., profound wonder., attentive study.''3 Clearly these are sparks from a fire, not a catalogue from a library. What of the person who so attracts, and who .forges such links? For the Church to speak of anyone like that could only be because the Chu.rch is in love with her. We are the Church. Do these words speak for us? Is that how we see her? Mary is part of the Church. To what extent is she part of us? Full of Grace St. Luke's two-volume work, Gospel and Acts, is particularly strong on personality and persons, including some of the most loved in the Christian world. Our Lady is among them. The account of the birth of Christ in which she first appears is written in a deliberately "old-world" style, in part, that is characteristic of the Old Testament. Yet it is light and beautiful and inspiring. As literature it is superb. What if its content is true? God is coming on earth. No wonder the account is alive with puzzlement, astonishment and joy. Who could find words to convey adequately such a message? Yet Luke, in pausing to introduce his gospel, leaves us in no doubt that "having followed all things closely for some time past" he has been careful to check "that you may know the truth" (Lk 1:3-4). His head is not being ruled by his heart. The old order, he writes, is changing. A son is to be born to an old man Zachary and his wife Elizabeth. This is "good news., joy and gladness. many will rejoice at his birth . . . to make ready for the Lord a people prepared"(Lk l: 13, 14, 17, 19). Expectancy, possibility and fulfillment almost beyond imagining is the good news from God--and this only in regard to the birth of the future John the Baptist. It is against this background that we first meet our Lady. She is greeted in a way familiar from the Old Testament: "Hail O favored one, the Lord is with you"(Lk i:28). As Luke uses these words they imply that Mary has been loved and graced by God for a long time. Now, ~is it were, God's love reaches such a 2"'If 1 may be permitted to speak here of my own experience, I will say., that in writing to you I am referring especially to my own personal experience . [A]t the beginning of my ministry I entrust all of you to the Mother of Christ. entrust., your priesthood to her in a special way. Allow me to do it myself, entrusting to the Mother of Christ each one of you" (John Paul Letter to Priests, 419179). 3Paul VI, Marialis Cultus, n. 22 (CTS. 1974). 1112 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 pitch that it comes cascading into her life. God wants her to do something for him as an expression of his love for her and for all people. Here is "good news of a great joy which will come to all the people" (Lk 2:!0). Clearly, if God wishes Mary to do something for him, he must give her the means to do it. This is why she is addressed as "Hail, O favored one, the Lord is with you." In the light of the Old T~stament, the greeting recalls the time when Gideon, the farmer's son, was approached by God with the greeting: ."the Lord is with you, valiant warrior!" (Jg 6:12). Understandably he protests that there must be some mistake. He is a farmer not a fighter, and could not possibly undertake the role of freedom-fighter, leader of the people. But God promises to be with him. Gideon therefore has a new identity: "valiant war-rior." He was a farmer. He is a fighter. The power of God will see to this. So when Mary is addressed "Hail, O favored one, the Lord is with you," she, too, is given an identity and a role. This is not empty compliment. It is a statement of who she is as she allows God's love full scope in her life. Her personality becomes fully alive as an expression of God's will. As love from a friend can deepen and enrich life so too with God and our Lady. Such is the love given and received that Mary is to give birth to a son, and "the child to be born will be called holy, the son of God"(Lk 1:35). The word holy attempts to say who God is. Holiness is the "is-ness" of God: "Whatever it is you are wanting to say about God you will find it all summed up and contained in this little word is. Mention every one of [the attributes of God] and you have said nothing extra; say nothing at all and you do not diminish him.TM Who God is, as the Old Testament understands it, is summed up in the word holy. God is then holy, essentially other, quite beyond our categories of understandii~g. To come into contact with God in any way one has to become holy, become like God as far as this can be: "Come no nearer, ~take off your shoes. This is holy ground" (Ex 3:5). God's presence on Sinai and later in the Jerusalem Temple made these places charged with the holiness of God himself (See Ex 19:12; Is 6:1-7). Invitation, purification, awe and worship are required before anyone dare venture near the presence of God. To understand, then, what St. Luke is saying of our Lady, one needs some such feeling for the word holy. So intimately present is God to her that the child to'be born of her "will be called holy, the Son of God." Only then can we see the genesis of the "profound veneration . . . profound wonder" in the Church's contemplation of our Lady. Open to the Spirit Like Gideon and Zachary, Mary, too, is greatly troubled: "How can this be since I know not man?" (Lk 1:34). The answer is so familiar: "The Holy 4"The Epistle of Privy Counsel," Ch. 4, in the Cloud of Unknowing and Other l~orks (Penguin Books, 1978). Let All God's Glory Through / 1113 Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you" (Lk 1:35). Again a wonderful world opens up, illuminating further the person and role of Mary. To describe the Spirit coming upon her, Luke uses the same verb he will later use to describe the Spirit of God coming upon and calling into life the early Church at Pentecost (see Acts !:8). Her receptivity to God's loving creative spirit, allowing his will free rein in her regard, opens up again the possibility that the face of the earth will be renewed. The wider background is perhaps not without echoes of the opening of Genesis. There, the Spirit of God hovered like a bird over .the formless void. The presence of God's creative spirit produced a universe of pattern, purpose and mystery. "The darkness over the deep" (Gen: 1:2) was no more. With the coming of the Spirit upon our Lady so powerfully and joyfully, there, too, issues a new creation (see 2 Co 5:17). Mankind will never be the same again in its intimacy with God. The universe is now to be illumined by a new divine light (see Lk 2:32). While the main emphasis is self-ex;idently on the child to be born, inevitably this reflects on the person of our Lady. It seems scarcely credible that God could use her merely as a passive, if willing, tool. The birth of a child to a woman is an aberration if it is not wholly personal. God's loving, creative Spirit is not programming a computer. Genuine love heightens personality. Light Wherewith to See "How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of one who brings good news, who heralds peace, proclaims salvation, brings happiness" (ls 52:7). If this is true of the message and the messenger, what of its transforming effect on the0one for whom it is meant? "My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior" (Lk 1:46-47). The overshadowing of Mary'by the Spirit of God, invited to love .her without any reserve--"l :am the handmaid of the Lord, let it be to me according to ~,our word" (Lk 1:38)--is not the offering of something but, insofar as a creature can receive, rather the loving, personal gift of God's presence. God's love has been poured into her heart through the Holy Spirit which has been given her (see Rm 5:5). Here, above a:ll, we see "Give and it will be given to you; good measure, pressed .down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap" (Lk 6:38). "For the spirit reaches the depths of everything, even the depths of God" ('! Co 2:i0). The core of the sun or the accumulated energy of the greatest stars is but created-- though unimaginably great to us. How begin to plumb the depths of God-- the uncreated one? We do not have the capacity. Yet, such is our faith, that through the giftof God "now we have received., the Spirit .that comes from God, to teach us to understand the gifts that he has given us" ( ! Co 2:12).5 Cot ad cot loquitur. If this is true of Paul, of his people, and of us, what of our Lady? The depths of her being were touched by the depths of God. As Augus-tine said of the spoken word, it can go from his heart and be possessed by his 1114 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 hearers, yet never leave him. So when the Spirit overshadows our Lady she becomes God's temple, and God's Spirit is particularly with her (see I Co 3:16). God is ever with her. She is always with God. She thus glorifies God in her body (! Co 6:20). The result of such experience must be illumination, albeit lived in faith. For the God who said "let light shine out of darkness" has shone in her heart to radiate the light of the knowledge of God's glory, the glory on the face of Christ (see 2 Co 4:6). The Spirit's gift to her of a son--and such a son--is as the creation of light in the life of Mary. Her whole personality, body and spirit, would reflect her son. Thus, in time, she would be turned into the image of Christ which she reflected. She is the Mother of God. This, of course, is the work of the Lord who is Spirit (see 2 Co 3:17-18). Her eyesight would not see, but her insight (faith) would assimilate life lived in the light of her son. The effect on others of her spirit-filled personality taught her much (see Lk 1:42-43, 45; 2:19). So power-ful a presence has she with her child in her arms that she ~would enter the Temple with him and the place would never be the same again. In her son she brings "a light of revelation to the Gentiles and . . . glory to . . . Israel" (Lk 2:32). So said an old man, Simeon, "and the Holy Spirit was upon him" (Lk 2:25). So he too could "see." "Inspired by the Spirit he came into the temple'" (Lk 2:27) and with our Lady's child in his arms, could say from his heart that now he could die in peace "for my eyes have seen., salvation., a light. glory . . ." (Lk 2:29-32). This is the work of the Spirit. She visits her cousin Elizabeth, and again, such is the effect of her presence that at the very sound of her voice greeting her cousin "the babe leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit" (Lk 1:42). She radiates the Spirit from a personality at one with the will of God. Her being was attuned to the will of God as no creature's has ever been. She is a reflective person who "kept all these things in her heart" (Lk 2:51)--a heart ever open to the illuminating Spirit of God. In a sacramental world, she above all would see God in Christ. It is the "pure of heart" who see God (see Mt 5:8). Open to Her Spirit This realization of the presence of the Spirit in our Lady can help us see why the Church is so attracted to her. One would like to think that today few would confuse insight and perception with formal education. They are not ~"His [the Holy Spirit's] approach is. to enlighten the mind, first of the man who receives him, then, through him, the minds of others also . As a man previously in darkness suddenly seeing the sun receives his sight and sees clearly what he did not see before, so the man deemed worthy of the Holy Spirit is enlighteng,d in soul and sees beyond the power of human sight what he did not know before" (Cyril of Jerusalem: To Catechumens, 16. See Office of Readings: Eastertide, Week 7, Monday). Let All God's Glory Through necessarily linked. Some things in life are never understood until they are loved. The biblical tradition and centuries of the Church would seem to corroborate this as far as understanding anything of God is concerned. "He may well be loved but not thought. By love he can be caught and held, but by thinking never.''6 This is not a fundamentalist anti-intellectual polemic. Faith, love and worship alone know who God is. Kathleen Raine's illuminating comment in another context can perhaps summarize this: "To those who rule out life, an acorn is a poor kind of pebble. The difference is not of degree but of kind.''7 To view any Christian, especially our Lady, without at the same time allowing for the mysteriously lavish action of the Holy Spirit, is indeed to view the acorn as a poor kind of pebble. Religious, therefore, wishing to live wholly for her son in the Spirit would do well to open themselves to whatever love and influence our Lady can bring to bear on them. Time in the company of our Lady is time in the presence of God. Our faith is incarnational, and she is one of the loveliest expressions of the love of God. There are no steps to the guru here. She is so approachable, so uncomplicated. Moses' contact with the holiness of God was such that tradition says his face had to be veiled, as people feared the light reflected there. Not so our Lady. Nondescript shepherds can approach her child and wonder. An old man can take her child from her arms. Her cousin Elizabeth saw her come to her own home, and how pleased she was to see her. Our Lady centers the delight and welcome where they properly belong: "He who is mighty has done great things for me"(Lk 1:49). It remains true that our Lady is blessed among women, and blessed, too, is the fruit of her womb. She is the mother of our Lord, blessed because she believed. "He (Jesus) wills that it be known that all those who delight in him should delight in her, and in the delight he takes in her and she in him.''s Generations in the Church have known and done just that. ~The Cloud of Unknowing, Ch. 6 (Penguin Books, 1975). 7Defending Ancient Springs (Oxford University Press, 1967). 8Julian of Norwich. Revelations of Divine Love, Ch. 25, N.Y. 1977. The Rite of Religious Profession and the Ignatian Tradition Gerald K O'Connor, S.J. Father O'Connor teaches at St. Joseph's Preparatory School and resides at the Ferdinand Farmer Residence; 4520 Chester Ave.; Philadelphia. PA 19143. Many religious communities, especially those following the tradition of the Society of Jesus, have traditionally pronounced their vows before the Sacra-ment at the communion of the Mass of Profession. The new Rite of Religious Profession (RRP), in #15 of its Praenotandao advises that this tradition of professio super hostiam be dropped in favor of profession following the hom-ily of the Mass as a response to the Word of God. A.number of communities have already elected to follow the Roman directive, substituting the ceremony in RRPfor their original lgnatian practice. I believe, though, that it is possible to abide by the directives of RRP while still retaining the core of the Ignatian tradition. In an article which appeared in the Archivum Historicum Sbcietatis lesu in 1940,t I.A. Zeiger discussed the possible origins of profession before the Sacrament in the Society of Jesus. Zeiger's conclusion was that the early Jesuits had borrowed a long-standing medieval tradition of solemnizing an oath through, a ritual "ordeal." The person swearing the oath or vow placed his hand on some sacred object to show the seriousness of his oath and to invoke God as a witness to the truth and honesty of what he was swearing. The "ordeal" of such a ritual obviously lay in the understanding of all parties that a false oath or vow would be punished by the deity represented by the ~I.A. Zeiger. "Pr0fessio Super Hostiam: Ursprung und Sinngehalt der Professform in der Gesell-schaft- Jesu." Archivum Historicum Societatis lesu, vol. 9. pp. 172-188. 816 Rite of Religious Profession and Ignatian Tradition / 1117 sacred object. The Blessed Sacrament was the most sacred thing upon which an oath could possibly be sworn, and Zeiger cites a number of instances of oaths taken with the hand on the Sacrament. When it became unacceptable for non-priests to touch the Sacrament, the ceremony was adapted so that the oath was sworn while the priest held the Host aloft. The reception of communion after the oath was the final seal on the swearer's act. This ceremony fits perfectly into the description of the vows taken by Ignatius and his first companions at Montmartre and later in Rome. Father William Bangert describes the simple ceremony which Ignatius and his first companions celebrated at Montmartre in 1534.2 Pierre Favre, the only priest in the group, celebrated Mass. At communion he turned to face his companions while holding up the Host. One by one, they vowed poverty, chastity, and a journey to the Holy Land. If it were not possible to travel to Jerusalem within the following year, they would place themselves at the ser-vice of the pope. These first vows were not the vows of religion strictly speaking since there was as yet no superior, no real Society established. Still, the ceremony at Montmartre must have been an important step for Ignatius, for years later he prescribed the same ceremony for pronouncing vows in the newly approved Society of Jesus.3 With the acceptance of the Constitutions by the Holy See, this essentially private ceremony of vows before the Blessed Sacrament became a formal ceremony of religious profession. It is the ceremony of profession as described in the Constitutions that was later borrowed by many religious communities and incorporated into their rituals as the professio super hostiam. Now the heart of the ceremony, as we have seen, is the ritual touching of some sacred object while reciting the vow formula or oath. The question can therefore be asked whether or not this central action can be adapted in some way that would accord with the proposed outline of religious profession in RRP. I believe it can be adapted. The elevated Host is sacred precisely as an outward sign or sacramentum of God's presence in the midst of the community. However, the Host is not the only such sign present in the celebration of the liturgy. The Decree on the Sacred Liturgy of the Second Vatican Council teaches us that the Lord is also present in His Word and in the people.4 It is the presence of the Lord in his Word that has become the center of attention in RRP. 1 suggest that it would be in keeping with the core of the lgnatian tradition for those pronouncing vows to do so while holding or touching the Book of 2William Bangert, A History of the Society of Jesus (Institute of Jesuit Sources, St. Louis, 1972), p. 16. Hgnatius of Loyola, Constitutions of the Society of Jesus, (Institute of Jesuit Sources, St. Louis, 1970), George E. Ganss (trans.), n. 525. 4See no. 7. 11111 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 the Gospels. The central ritual action would remain the same: the ordeal of swearing on some sacred object which signifies the presence of God in our midst. What would be changed is the particular symbol chosen to r~present the presence of the Lord. Numbers 12 and 14 of the Praenotanda to RRP require that the ceremonies outlined in the rite be adapted to the spirituality and traditions of each religious family. The adapation I have proposed is just such an adaptation to the traditions of Ignatius and the Society of Jesus. There is nothing in RRP which would prohibit the one pronouncing vows from touching or holding some sacred object during the reading of the vow formula. There are also some positive reasons in favor of the ceremony l have suggested, As we have seen the emphasis in RRP is on the vows as a response to the Word of God. Pronouncing the vows while touching the Book of the Gospels from which God's Word has just been proclaimed in the assembly would further emphasize the intrinsic connection between God's call and the response of the one making vows. Since Vatican II Catholics have begun to recapture the primitive symbol-ism of God's presence in his Word. While an older generation of Catholics was raised on various devotions to the Blessed Sacrament, the younger generation is more likely to have been raised on Scripture services and Bible vigils. The Word of God is as important and vital a symbol of the Lord's presence in the Church today as was the lamp before the tabernacle in the recent past. Neither symbol is complete in itself, neither is better than its complement, but either symbol may speak more clearlyoto a particular generation. RRP has called on all religious communities to adapt their profession ceremonies in light of the new ritual. But the emphasis is on adaptation, not on simple adoption of the new rite. It is possible for those communities which have inherited their traditions of religious profession from Ignatius Loyola to accept the insights of the new rite, while remaining true to the essential core of the lgnatian tradition. In preparing for the adaptations invited by RRP we must enter more deeply into the essential elements of our profession rites. Both individually and as communities we have the opportunity to grow in our understanding of our traditions as we work to adapt them to the new rite. The suggestion made here is one attempt to seize such opportunities. Ongoing Conversion and Religious Life Miriam Louise Gramlich, L H.M. A frequent contributor to these pages, Sister Miriam Louise continues to live and work at St. Mary Convent: 610 WestElm Ave.: Monroe. MI 48161. At a time when a number of religious congregations are preparing to update their constitutions for canonical approval, many communities are engaged once again in a new study of their documents. Although the work of revision is generally entrusted to a special Documents Committee, individual members are often encouraged to take an active part in such a study by submitting their insights and recommendations to the committee. In such preparation, many individuals engage in study groups or small-group discussions on the essence of religious life, earnestly considering such questions as: "At this point in time, how do we see ourselves? What do we believe are the most important elements of religious life? What identifies us as religious?" and the like. Such study and discussion furnished a springboard for this writer to research and reflect on ongoing conversion as one essential component of any truly spiritual life. It was exciting to discover that many reputable contemporary theologians also hold this view. Bernard Lonergan maintains that conversion is fundamental to religious living. He says it is not a topic studied in traditional theology since it is too dynamic to remain with the abstract or the static. It occurs in the lives of individuals not merely as a change, or even a development, but more often as a "radical transformation," a complete about-face in one's relations to others and to God. He further believes that reflection on the ongoing process of conversion may uncover the real foundation of theological renewal, its aggiornamento. * Many religious regard their response to their vocation, their religious profession, as a deep conversion experience. They may question whether a 819 1~20 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 radical, new conversion is possible after one has sincerely committed one's whole life to God. Yet most of us can remember occasions in our lives--times of crisis or quiet times of retreat--when we did experience a deepening and intensifying of our original consecration to Christ. After the initial surrender, our lives are meant to express an ever deeper self-realization, a continual act of self-giving and abandonment to God, a continual conversion. This has to be done throughout our lives. More growth in our surrender is always pos-sible. Depending upon each new situation, we are capable of further growth and maturity in love. Scripture gives us a good example in St. Peter, who although he had faithfully responded to his vocation of following Christ, found further conversions in his life necessary. Before Peter's denial at the time of the Passion, Jesus foretells his apostle's conversion: "I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail, and once you have been converted, you in turn must strengthen your brothers" (Lk 22:31). Conversion, then, is necessarily ongoing,, for religious life calls for con-tinual growth and development. On earth all of us remain pilgrims on the way, and although we may be just, at the same time we realize that we are sinful and in need of overcoming sin through grace and love. Nature of Conversion The word conversion signifies a "turning around" in an opposite direction, making a countermovement. A person has turned in a wrong direction and must retrace his way. For the psychologist William James, conversion is the process, gradual or sudden, in which the divided self becomes unified (p. 123). It means a change in what he calls "the habitual center of personal energy"-- the group of ideas and values to which a person devotes himself. "To say that a man is 'converted' means that religious ideas previously peripheral., now take a central place, and that religious aims form the habitual center of his energy" (p. 125). The converted person now finds new values and meanings in his life; he thinks differently and relates differently. In short, for him life is transformed. In religious conversion, God takes the initiative in calling back the one who has strayed from him. No human being is self-sufficient; no one is able to return to the Father through his own resources. Conversion is possible only through God's grace. Through his merciful love, the Father has sent Jesus Christ, his beloved Son, to live and die for us. Jesus dwelt on earth to reveal the merciful and forgiving love of his Father and to show us the way back to him. His sufferings and death have won for us the grace that is the sole source of all conversion. *Bernard Lonergan. "Theology In Its New Context" from Conversion. Ed. by Walter E. Corm, Ph.D. New York: Alba House, 1978, pp. 12-20. References to other theologians and writers are taken from this book and the pages are indicated in the body of the article. Ongoing Conversion and Religious Life Dom Marc-Fran~;ois Lacan defines religious conversion as "a grace of light which reveals both the ingratitude of man in sinning and the goodness and mercy of God toward him." This grace is received when there is humble admission of sin, an opening up with confidence to the goodness and love of God who desires to forgive. It involves a change of heart in which "the converted one acknowledges his need, humbly accepts God's pardon, opens himself to the grace which renews his heart, and asks confidently for the grace of his transformation." Furthermore, Dom Lacan holds that it is through a necessary and ongoing conversion and renewal that man succeeds in respond-ing to God's call, to his vocation and mission (pp. 75, 79). For Karl Barth, conversion means waking up, ,rising from the sleep of death," or more correctly, a "being awakened," since awakening and rising are possible only "in the power of the mystery and miracle of God" (p. 35). Karl Rahner sees conversion as "fundamental decision"--a basic choice intended to turn a person's entire life to God; likewise, it is response to a call from God made possible through grace. "This call of God is both Jesus Christ himself as the presence of the kingdom of God in person., and his Spirit as the. presence which as God's self-communication, offers freedom and forgive-ness to overcome the narrow limitations and sinfulness of man" (p. 204). Rahner explains that insofar as conversion is concrete concern and obedience to God's call, it is faith; as a turning from the past and abandoning one's own securities, "trusting oneself to the uncharted way into the open and incalcu-lable future in which God comes," conversion is hope; and insofar as it con-sists in unselfish love of God, neighbor and self, conversion is charity (p. 206). Bernard Haring also regards conversion as "radical decision," a humble, grateful and joyous acceptance of the kingdom of God in Christ (p. 216). For Charles Curran, conversion is believing in the "Good News" and turning to the Father. It is heeding the message of Jesus: "The time has come ¯ . . and the reign of God is at hand. Be converted and believe in the Good News" (Mk 1:15). He emphasizes its joyful aspect: "Conversion is a joyfu.l proclamation of God's love, calling for a change of heart." The prodigal son's return to his father was a joyful experience (p. 225). Perhaps Bernard Lonergan's description of conversion best sums up the foregoing ideas: "Religious conversion., is other-worldly falling in love. It is a total and permanent self-surrender without conditions, qualifications or reservations . For Christians, it is God's love flooding our hearts through the Holy Spirit given to us. It is the gift of grace . . ." (p. 18). From all these definitions, it is clear that conversion involves both initiative on the part of God and response on the part of man. In this return to the Father through the Son in the grace of the Spirit, the self is both objective and subjective, both active and passive. Patterns and Dimensions of Conversion Although every conversion, like every person, is unique, certain patterns 1t22 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 and dimensions can be discerned. As already mentioned, some conversions are sudden while others are gradual. Even in those that appear sudden, such as St. Paul's and St. Augustine's, there could well have been a longer time of preparation than we know. Some psychologists and counselors call attention to the frequency of con-versions at the time of adolescence, yet they frankly admit that these can often be the result of suggestion rather than of real growth or maturity in the person's spiritual life, and tend to be transitory. A large number of great religious personalities, such as Paul, Augustine, and Teresa of Avila, experi-enced deep conversion later in life. The one unanimous opinion of theologians and psychologists is in favor of ongoing conversion. Not only in adolescence is a person brought into a new life of maturity and personal insight, but conversion or renewal takes place all through life. Since we live from moment to moment, day to day, year to year, we can never accomplish total spiritual maturity in this life. We can only move toward it. Ongoing conversion in religious life may well be a movement from a merely external and conventional practice of "regular observance," of rules and regulations, to one in which a true interior commitment and surrender to the will of God is paramount. Sometimes external observances, even external worship, can be obstacles to conversion when they become the sole criteria of dove and justice. The hypocrisy of the Pharisees consisted basically in reducing the interior worship of God to mere externals. Although a sound formation is an important element in religious life, if it is over-emphasized it could hinder conversion and the transformation that is the result of conversion. Rosemary Haughton, who considers the importance of both formation and transformation, feels that a good formation is neces-sary for a person to form correct judgments and make right decisions, but it may become a hindrance to true renewal and transformation. She writes: This is the dilemma. A good formation, according to a sound customary and moral law, is necessary if a person is to be able to respond to the demand for the decision to love. Yet if this formation is really good and really thorough, it may. just because it is good, prevent the person from being aware of the need for repentance and decision. No need for repentance will appear, therefore no change of heart, no transformation, will be possible (p. 26). Some religious may find their days characterized by hyperactivity, clut-tered with needless trivia. Often sincere, devout religious become dissatisfied and yearn for something more than their present religious life is giving them. They may feel the need of more time for prayer and reflection. Always it is necessary to stay spiritually awake, to be aware of new calls from God, lest we become like the foolish virgins who let their lamps go out, like the apostles who slept in Gethsemane during Christ's agony. And when these calls come, we must answer them promptly. There is an insistent quality about them. If we do not respond at once, the same opportunity may not come again. The time Ongoing Conversion and Religious Life is always now. "Now is the acceptable time." Now is the time to wake up from sleep and seek the Lord, as Isaiah reminds us: Seek Yahweh while he is to be found. call him while he is still near (55:6). Finally, it is necessary to note that a deep, sincere conversion has always had not only a personal, individual dimension but a communal, social one as well. However, the latter dimension has been given more importance in our time. The emphasis in years past may have been more on striving for God's glory through individual perfection and salvation. Today it manifests itself in seeking God's glory through greater cosmic love and compassion, a conver-sion which leads to more determination to spread Christ's kingdom through selfless service of the world's poor and suffering. In fact, for anyone aiming at wholeness and self-fulfillment, conversion cannot be purely a private matter, an individual concern. As Karl Barth puts it: "The man who wants to be converted only for his own sake and for himself rather than to God the Lord and to entry into the service of His cause on earth and as His witness in the cosmos, is not the whole man" (p. 39). Since by becoming incarnate, Jesus took this world and everything human so seriously, the converted person, in imitation of his model, takes a positive view of the "here and now." He sees his relationship to all his neighbors as immensely important, because he perceives Christ in each one of them: "1 was hungry and you gave me food" (Mt 25:35). He will be involved, in the first place, with his own immediate religious community, viewing it as his spiritual family, and realizing that those have first claim on his love and concern who have opted to live and labor intimately with him for the spread of the kingdom. At the same time, the truly converted religious, open to the Spirit, will be aware of the social sin present in so many institutions and structures of our society today, and will earnestly pray and work to eradicate the social injustices that oppress and exploit so many people. These unjust structures can be changed only through a deliberate commitment on the part of many correctly informed persons to participate coni:retely and realistically in the day-to-day struggle to liberate the poor and oppressed. Through new minis-tries and new means of involvement, today's converted religious is becoming more effective in this mission of liberation. We are in a better position now to recognize'the lineaments and to draw ¯ the portrait of the converted person, the man or woman wholly turned towards God, completely "for God." Although a new creature in Christ, such a person realizes that the rem-nants of the old self still cling to him. He cannot always do the good he wants to do and must constantly struggle against a downward pull, an inveterate tendency towards selfishness and self-will. St. Paul describes this inward con-flict so well. He writes: "The Law is spiritual but 1 am unspiritual . I cannot 1~211 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 understand my own behavior. 1 fail to carry out the things I want to do and I find myself doing the very things 1 hate., though the will to do what is good is in me, the performance is not," and he concludes: "What a wretched man 1 am! Who will rescue me from this body doomed to death?" His answer is that this can come only "through Jesus Christ our Lord!" (Rm 7:14-25). It is in Christ then that the converted person comes to recognize and accept what he is in himself, but also to realize the self as God's gift. Through grace, he sees himself as a lovable person because he is loved by God and others in spite of everything he knows about his own weaknesses, failures and even sinfulness. Through constant, ongoing conversion, Love has gradually become his raison d'etre. With each new surrender to God's will and provi-dence, his life is becoming transformed. He is the same person and yet the change is producing a "new person." As St. Paul expresses it: "If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has passed away; behold the new has come" (2 Co 5:!7). Conversion gives birth to a new life, hidden in Christ, which produces in the person childlike humility and a deep sense of joy, as well as increased freedom and maturity. In the awareness of his own salvation--the great things the Lord has done for him--the converted one is ready to become a witness to the reign of Christ's kingdom and to help others experience the peace and joy he has found in converting his whole heart to God. He echoes David's words: "I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you" (Ps 50:13). Thus ongoing conversion becomes the way in which the kingdom of God is estab-lished anew and the Spirit renews the face of the earth. It is wise to remember that even though there may be exceptions, the renewed spiritual life described in this portrait of the converted person takes a lifetime to become fully developed, even as a seed that is planted in the soil takes time to push up from the ground and develop into the full flower and fruit. Father Bernard Haring says: "Usually only the final yes to the loving will of God in death brings final maturity" (p. 219). Every human experience in life can be a new call of God's love, and every grateful response on the part of a religious can be an intensifying of the divine life within. Each successive conversion is only a new beginning, meant to be ongoing and to deepen the union with the soul's loving Bridegroom. In considering the essentials of religious life, would it not be wise, then, to include "ongoing conversion" as an important element of religious living? Does not the very fact that we must be constantly evaluating our lives and periodically updating and renewing the principles and constitutions we live by prove that such dynamic conversion and renewal are indeed of the essence of our vocation? Communal Discernment George. Schemel, S.J., and Sister Judith Roemer Father Schemel and Sister Judith are on the staff of the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth; Church Road; Wernersville, PA 19565. With today's new awareness of group process, it is not surprising that there has been a renewed interest in communal discernment. Although for a long time historians and theologians have talked about communal discernment, it is ohly recently that groups have returned to a more formal use of this prac-tice. We have personally witnessed and facilitated several of these sessions each year for the past nine years. Although communal discernment is ancient in the church, the historical precedent for the articulated form to which we refer in this writing is the experience of St. Ignatius Loyola and his first companions in their delibera-tions about the founding of the Jesuit order. As a group they worked through questions of community, the need for a vow of obedience, the procedures for sending each other into apostolic works. Out of that experience, written ina little paper known as the Deliberation of the First Fathers, has come a procedure for communal discernment, along with some characteristics that distinguish it from other forms of decision-making. Perhaps most characteristic of this procedure is the insistence on separating the pro and con sides of a qu.estion at issue, requiring that each person prayerfully consider and speak to both. There is, however, more to communal discernment than this. Actually, communal discernment might have many forms. Once some important- elements are acknowledged and considered, many varieties of procedures become possible. Essentially, there are seven elements in com-munal discernment. In the paragraphs that follow, we are going to talk about each one. The seven essential elements of communal discernment are: 825 1126 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 1) An explicit attitude and atmosphere of faith 2) Prayer: before, during, after; for light, for purification 3) Interior freedom: poised spiritual liberty 4) Information: disseminated, assimilated 5) Separation into con and pro reasons 6) Attempt at consensus 7) Confirmation (congruence) a) Internal: joy and peace in the Holy Spirit b) How does the decision work out over a period of time? How is the decision accepted by legitimate authority? The first three elements should be habitual modes of mind and heart. They ought to be part of the group's life rather than something it quickly does on the morning of a decision. The next three elements belong to the more formal part of the discernment process. The last element, confirmation and congru-ence, is monitored in the group over weeks, months, a year, as the new decision is worked out and tested. 1. An Explicit Attitude and Atmosphere of Faith At the base of each communal discernment is a belief and growing aware-ness of our "name of grace," the unique way in which God calls to me indi-vidually and to us corporately. Discernment itself rests on the theological belief that God d~als personally and individually with each of us. Over the years, as this relationship has grown and been nourished, we have often become aware of those patterns and characteristics, those unique notes which characterize one's own personal relationship with God. This "first name of grace"--the unique way in which God deals with me--may seem a new idea at first; but at second glance we recognize that we have come to take it for granted in distinguishing some of our favorite saints: St. Therese of Lisieux and her "Little Way," or St. Francis of Assisi, "God's Little Poor Man," are readily distinguished from St. Robert Bellarmine, "the Church has not his like in learning," or St. Teresa of Avila, the first v~oman Doctor of the Church. in each of these persons, God was known in a unique set of circumstances. Their sanctity developed through this uniqueness. In working out their identity, vocation and mission, what was appropriate for one could not have been appropriate for another. For instance, Francis may well have begged and walked barefoot among the Umbrian hills,.forbidding his followers to ride horseback because it was a sign of nobility and ~wealth. Robert Bellarmine, on the other hand, had ser-vants, a coach and four, and a castle as a part of his being a cardinal. The choices of Francis would not have been appropriate for Robert, nor vice versa. Similarly Teresa of Avila dedicated herself to God in Carmel almost twenty years before she began "to get serious about her contemplation. Again in her case, the timings, the graces, the circumstances were simply different. Yet each was faithful to his or her inspirations. Each became a saint in his Communal Discernment own right. Just as it is important that an individual be aware of his "first name of grace," it is likewise vitally important that groups pay attention to their own unique calling as a group, their "last name of grace." Much was said after Vatican I1 about rediscovering the original grace or charism of the founder. Groups were encouraged to look at their own graces, patterns of call and apostolic works. Any group, be it family, diocese, reli-gious community, parish organization, has its own charism, its own "last name of grace." There is some common identity that focuses the energies of that group. It is much like a family with several children. For example, the distinction among Bob, Mary, Peter and Sharon is certainly observable; yet the fact that they all belong to the Parker family is also immediately apparent. This example highlights the distinction between first and last name of grace. In any communal discernment it is very important that the persons within a group be aware of their faith-reality, their first and last name of grace. The last name of grace, that special uniqueness that we share with each other as members of this particular community, is of especial importance during the iime of discernment. It is necessary that decisions which involve this group of people flow from their awareness of their own group's unique relationship with God. These awarenesses should be heightened at the time of decision so that all are in touch with this reality during the whole process of discernment. Notice, too, that we have said "in an atmosphere of faith." Communal discernment is not another group method along with Robert's rules, management by objec-tives, paternal or maternal guidance, or any other such possibilities. Discern-ment demands that we ask the further question: "What is God asking of me and my group in this concrete situation?" This is an important, feature of communal discernment because, in discernment, we are weighing and decid-ing among goods rather than choosing between good and evil. We are not asking how much money can we save, how much profit can we accumulate, where can we sacrifice now in order to get ahead later, we are asking quite simply: ."What does God want?" The word explicit is also important. There may have been a time when it was not as important as it is today to make faith explicit. "In the good, old days," when the community was close or the group came out of a well-knit parochial setting, there may have been a more common understanding of faith beliefs. In a religious community the way of dress, the customs, the order of the day all said something to everyone about what people believed. There was a time in the lives of many of us when we got out of bed at 5:20 a.m. because "the voice of God is in the sound of the bell"; we kissed the floor before saying the office because we were unworthy to proclaim God's praise; and we said our prayers in Latin so that we could be united with the universal Church. Today, though, I still will listen to God's voice; I am continually unworthy to offer his praise; and 1 am united to the universal Church. But I look different ~!211 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 and my life-style has changed. Unless I am more explicit about my faith values, most people will not know of the faith-drama that is going on within me. For that reason groups must voice for themselves their beliefs, and dis-tinctions they make between faith-absolutes and cultural relatives. Obviously, it is not possible to have this faith-awareness automatically no matter how knowledgeable a group might be nor how group-sensitized it has become. Granted one needs information and group-sensitivity, but the special kind of information and sensitivity needed here is brought about forcefully by the second element of communal discernment. 2. Prayer: Before, During, and After, for Light and Purification Discernment rests on the belief that the human organism is made rightly, and that God actually works perceptibly in one's affective consciousness. It also rests on the belief that evil is a reality. If the deciding body is to sort through and weigh its consolation (those things which bring about an increase of faith, hope, and love--thus urging one close to God) and its desolation (those things which foster a lack of faith, hope, and love--thus urging one away from God), it must do this searching fortified by prayer. No group is without its intimacy questions, its hostilities, its life-style inconsistencies, its power plays and territorial (physical or psychological) disputes. The group must sort out its anger, fear, resentment, ambition, stubbornness, insecurity-- all the negative sinfulness that plagues most of us twenty-four hours a day. The necessity of being in touch with God through all of this confrontation with sin and sinfulness is paramount. The authentic who-l-am--my first and last name of grace--owning its reality of sinfulness, must come before God to listen. If, for instance, on the day my two housekeepers.quit, and 1 am misunderstood by a department head, and the keys to the car are missing when I want to run away, I go before God and say, "Dear Father,,please bless your child and increase my love and devotion to you," I am more probably not being entirely authentic before God. It would likely be better for me to say, "Dear God, I amso angry. I hate my job. I hate housekeeping. It's your fault that l'm in this stupid situation. 1 know I'm being selfish and stubborn and I don't want to change. I am in great need of your help, so please will you heal me?" It is only in that attitude of dependence and honesty that 1 am ready to begin to listen. It is difficult to believe that a matter proposed for communal discernment would be so clear as not to provoke a number of positive and negative thoughts and feelings in a group. There is hardly a topic today that can be introduced for group consideration that does not evoke a host of rational and irrational, controlled and spontaneous reactions and responses. Without prayer, thee third element of discernment is also impossible. 3. Interior Freedom--Poised Spiritual Liberty In the Exercises, Ignatius spends a considerable amount of space on the topic of"indifference"---that attitude of mind which says, "Please God, I want Communal Discernment what you want. 1 will receive honor or scorn, richness or poverty, fame or hiddenness--whatever is for your honor and glory, whatever you want in my life, in whatever measure you want it." That attitude is not easy for an indi-vidual personally; much less is it easy for a group that is involved in a particu-lar work or prejudiced in a particular direction. If, for instance, 1 have just spent two years of my blood, sweat and tears establishing an individualized reading program in grades one to four, I will hardly be spontaneously indifferent or spiritually free for a discernment pro-cess aimed at deciding whether or not to close the primary grades in our school. Similarly, if I have just spent six years getting a B.A. and an M.A. in Latin, it will be very hard for me to be indifferent to a discernment process about dropping the classics from the curriculum. In any such circumstances, we have to be aware of these reluctances, prejudices and fears, prayerfully asking to be freed from their hold on us, at least during the time of discernment. As I mentioned before, these first three elements, faith-prayer-freedom, are ongoing attitudes that need to grow in individuals as well as in the group before decision-making can begin to share the qualities of authentic discern-ment. In one group, my partner and I animated a decision-making group and their husbands or wives over a four month period precisely on these first three elements. We set up a series of structured spiritual conversations in which the group participated in looking at its history together, articulating its gifts and liabilities, reinforcing its individual and qiturgical prayer commitments, and sharing all these with each other in preparation for a decision about its parish finances. At the end of that period of preparation, the group expediti.ously continued into the process and made decisions about a $ i,000,000 inheritance. Along with these habitual modes of living, such as prayer, faith and free-dom, but' before coming to the actual decision, there is a period of research and fact-finding. This leads us into our fourth element. 4. Information: Disseminated and Assimilated There are few, if any, direct pipelines from heaven; and thus there is no substitute for study, research, evaluation, and an awareness of the concrete facts about the subject up for decision. Included in such a list of facts are the feelings and values in the group which are associated with the situation. If, for example, I am on a studies committee that is trying to decide whether or not to send three persons off to get doctorates, we cannot just meet, expecting God to send us an answer. As a deciding group, we need to know the candidates' talents, their grades, their GREs, the requirements of the particular university, the attraction or repulsion each person feels for graduate studies, the finances involved, the transportation and housing available, the related job opportunities present in our system, the relevance of this type of education for our overall work, the spiritual needs of the persons involved, their mental and physical stamina and on and on. Not only must the data be 1131~ / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 accumulated, but all the members of the group must have studied the facts. It would be outrageous for me to arrive some place the night before a meeting and be expected to decide whether a novitiate should be moved to a new location if I am unfamiliar with the topic and have not had time to study the briefs. In that case 1 simply would have no human information to use as a reality check on my discernment. Once information has been gathered and studied, it is necessary to formu-late subject at issue in a simple statement. It is best not to try to address a multifacet6d issue all at once, or attempt to deal with a complicated formula. In other words, keep the issue simple. As a rule, the statement should be a simple, declarative sentence articulating the issue in a manner opposite to the status quo. For instance, if we are presently trying to concentrate our person-nel in a few hospitals (this is our status quo), then the statement of our issue might be, We would have g~reater apostolic effectiveness by scattering our per-sonnel in as many health services as possible. Or, in another example, if our present practice is to elect a president of the board every second year (status quo), our sentence might read, There will'be an election of the president of the board every fourth year. Our pra.ctice of writing the proposition in this way, opposite to the status quo, arose out of experience. Groups seem to be better able to look at their situation from a new perspective when the proposition is presented to them from the opposite situation. One of the big temptations in formulating a working simple sentence is to include too many issues at one time. A statement such as: Five generalate councilors should form an equal-power team in spiri-tuality, apostolate, temporalities, formation, and community life. is just too complex. That proposition contains too many items of concern: I. How many councilors are needed? 2. Should there be team government? 3. Do all the members have equal power? 4. Where does the authority reside? 5. What are the needed areas of responsibility? In such a case it would be better to work at the many issues one at a time~. Part of learning to live with communal discernment is learning to live with process. In other words, the group needs time and patience to work with its own real agenda and to be satisfied with the sometimes small, but clear truths that belong to it. In discernment it is necess~iry to work with clarities and to move as a group from one point to another without jumping ahead of the graces actually present. Once the issue is formulated in a simple, declarative statement we move on Communal Discernment to the fifth element. 5. Separation into Con and Pro Reasons The separation of the issue into the con and pro reasons is necessary so that each and all take a fair look at both sides of the question, and so that at no time-does the discernment become merely a discussion or a debate. In this procedure, where each is asked to address both sides of the issue, the timid are given an opportunity to speak; while the loquacious are challenged to be more focused. This procedure allows the many sides of the issue to be explored and articulated. When a group knows that everyone will be giving the cons and everyone will be giving the pros, there is less chance that any one person will be singled out and made to stand alone. In this way, the defensiveness of the group is reduced to a minimum. Debate is also precluded. Obviously, one does not go into a discernment knowing an answer and pressuring the other side into compliance. Rather, in communal discernment the group members are looked upon as partners in seeking the truth. In fact, should one be convinced of an answer before discernment, it would be foolish for that person to proceed through the process. The purpose of discernment: finding God's will, is already present. It doesn't make much sense to discern about something when one already knows what God wants. To go through those motions would merely mean to play games. When the group finally meets for the more formal part of the discernment, a simple procedure can be helpful. After a period of prayer, each person in a group of possibly six or eight persons is asked to state the reasons he or she sees against the proposition. At this point the person does not say that he or she is personally against the proposition, but only that he sees good reasons against it. Those reasons that he names are real reasons for him. He does not speak for anyone else, nor does he manufacture reasons. The group listens to all the reasons against, each one giving only one reason each time, until each person has given his entire list. There may be a need to go around in the circle of the group several times before this is accomplished. It is helpful for all of the members to write down the various reasons stated so that all have an accurate account of these reasons later on in the consensus effort. The group is then asked to begin a second period of prayer over the reasons for the proposition. At the end of this time, the group meets again and each is asked to state reasons for the proposition. The procedure is exactly the same as the first time. Each one gives one reason, and all stay until everyone has had a chance to give his entire list. They may have gone around the circle several times to accomplish this. Again, the reasons are written by each. For the sake of fairness, it is good to give equal time to con and pro even if this means sitting in silence together. The quiet time can be an opportunity to consider the new information learned from the group. The discipline in these first two sessions of giving con and pro is quite 1132 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 strict. Although one may certainly ask a question about a word that she has not heard or a phrase that was not clear, there is, on the other hand, no discussion or amplification. The assumption here is that the time for discus-sion and challenge has taken place in the weeks before communal discern-ment. At our present point .in the procedure, the emphasis is on listening and sorting out the facts and feelings without further dialogue. Sometimes people ask why.we look at the cons first. Historically~ that is what Ignatius and his friends did. Psychologically, there is n~uch evidence to support the fact that negative reasons are hard to hold in and quite naturally come to the forefront~ It seems best to lay them on the table early. I have, in fact, experimented with a group's giving pro reasons first. On one occasion two of us did a communal discernment with two hundred and fifty persons. We divided the large group into twenty-five small groups. Although all used the same issue, half the small groups worked on positive first, then negative. All groups came to the same general conclusion, but those doing positive reasons first experienced some stress in holding on to their negatives until last. At present, I consistently do the negative or con reasons at the beginning. After the group has looked carefully at con and pro reasons, there is a third period of prayer. At this time each person looks carefully at his or her own reasons and the additional reasons both against and for voiced in the group. He then comes up with his own personal decision about the matter. At a third group session all meet to state their decision and attempt to work towards consensus, the sixth element. 6. Consensus Seldom does it happen that all persons in a group are of one mind right away. It is a good idea at the beginning of this third session to make a quick poll of the group to see its initial stand. Lit us say that a group is discerning whether or not to close a retirement home. Seven say "yes" and three say "no" at the beginning of the first round. Perhaps the three who say "no" have certain legitimate fears about the closing: "Well, I can't agree unless all the residents are carefully placed in other homes." "I could agree if we find some other way of Christian witness in this same .neighborhood." "I can agree provided we wait two years until the new city home is finished next year." It may be, in listening carefully to these provided's,,:if's unless's, maybe's, that we.can seek areas of agreement. Here the dialogue with the group.is much freer. All are listening to hear what is really being said by the entire group. Sometimes, at this point, the original proposition needs to be restated or changed to include the new areas of agreement. Often there is a greater facility in reaching consensus once people are assured that their very real concern can be taken care of in some way that they did not previously imagine. One.of the biggest temptations at this point in the communal discernment is to try to "form consensus" instead of reading the one that is "actually in the group. At one time I saw a .group come to a standstill over whether three or Communal Discernment seven persons would be sent on an African project. On the surface, they thought there was no consensus, and continued to argue over "three" or "seven." However, in this case there definitely was a consensus: both sides agreed to three persons. That is clear. It's just that some wanted four more to go. On another occasion I participated in a group that was locked over the time of liturgy: 6:15 a.m. or 4:30 p.m. We went round and round giving very convincing reasons for both options. Again there appeared to be no consen-sus. Yet there was. All the group agreed the liturgy was a very important part of their life together. All wanted the liturgy at the prime time of day. The disagreement focused around what time was "prime." Once that detail was realized, and the group acknowledged its common faith convictions, the ten-sion was released and the detail compromised and brought to consensus. There are times, however, when consensus in the sense of "we all feel, think, believe together" cannot be reached. When there is no complete consen-sus, a group may have to be content with a vote or having the resident authority declare the practical steps to be followed in the group's life on this question. This is particularly true when time runs out or the urgency of the matter demands~decision. Ideally, one should take the unresolved consensus back to prayer and continue the process. However, there are times when this is just not feasible, and the group has to resort to the expediency of voting or having the consensus declared. Once the decision has been made and the consensus is reached, it is neces-sary to take that decision back to prayer and ask for confirmation. 7. Confirmation: Exterior and Interior Interiorly, when a good decision has been made, the group should expe-rience a peace and joy in the Holy Spirit. There is a rightness in its sense of being, a congruence with the first and last name of grace. This definition of discernment sums up the interior confirmation. "Discernment is an experien-tial knowledge of self in the congruence of the object of choice and one's fundamental religious orientation." If a good decision has been made, the persons within the group will experience these qualities during the following months and there will be a new graced energy to carry out the decision. Sometimes, a group experiences a "sigh of relief: that at last a decision has been made. 'Let's go home!'" That is hardly interior confirmation. Rather confirmation is a growing awareness over time about the rightness of the decision. The decision fits well with who I am personally and communally. It urges me to a greater service of God. Finally, I can return to my habitual form of prayer and find that 1 am not continuing to go around in circles or to debate about the issue, but rather 1 am growing in peace and joy before the Lord. This interior confirmation must be checked with exterior confirmation as well. Is this decision accepted by legitimate authority? Does time confirm the rightness of the decision? ~!~14 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 I once discerned that I should become a regular blood donor so that I could participate in some physical way in the human race. 1 appeared eagerly one morning at the bloodmobile only to be told that unfortunately no one under one hundred ten pounds was allowed to give blood. Another time 1 discerned with a group about going to a particular university. I had all the required finances, housing, and approval on my side of things, and then had the application rejected by the admittance board. In both cases 1 lacked the acceptance of legitimate authority. Sometimes it happens that a group conscientiously submits the results of a genuine discernment to legitimate authority which says, "no." The discern-ment lacks exterior confirmation. For the time being the group can be assured that it is not called to proceed in precisely the way it has decided. This does not mean the group was wrong, or the authority right. It just means they temporarily have no confirmation, and they need to plan carefully for the next step. Ideally, the legitimate authority in a given situation has been a part of the discerning group. It is also important for the group to be clear about whether the discernment it is undertaking is consultative (the group acting as advisor) or deliberative (the group actually being the deciding body). Such distinctions made before the time and energy of the group has been devoted to the process will eliminate strain and misunderstanding later on. Lastly, the practicalities of life add their own kind of confirmation by answering the question, "How does it work over a period of time?" A group may have discerned to take on extra sick calls or catechetical duties, only to find later on that their regular work is being neglected, there is less time for prayer, or they are becoming unduly tired and crabby. All these signs of disharmony suggest that they take another look at their decision. If we set up a soup kitchen, and six months later not too many come for soup, we can rightly assume that the apostolic venture needs to be reevaluated; the apos-tolic possibility we once saw doesn't seem relevant any longer. Summary In summary then, before coming to discernment, a group needs three viable attitudes: !) faith --an awareness of God's acting in my life --an awareness of my own name of grace --an awareness of the group's name of grace 2) prayer --an abiding sensitivity to the movements of.consolation and desolation --a realization of personal and corporate sinfulness --a willingness to face our hang-ups honestly 3) freedom--a willingness to be responsive to whatever God is asking --an indifference towards the options of good that are placed Communal Discernment before us --a desire to move in the fullness of our reality With these attitudes and awarenesses at one's fingertips, we then move into the more formal aspect of communal discernment. 4) Studying the issue: formulating the question in a simple manner. 5) Separating the reasons into cons and pros and being willing to look carefully at both sides of the issue. 6) Attempting consensus and seeking areas of agreement. Finally, as we come to our decision and begin to carry it out, we monitor ourselves for the next weeks, months, year. 7) Experiencing confirmation both interiorly in peace and joy in the Holy Spirit, in congruence, and appropriate indifference; and exteriorly through the reality check of time and acceptance by legitimate authority. With these seven elements it is hoped that a group can come to a decision that represents God's will for it. Certainly if the group has been faithful to the various elements, not only will its decision be well-grounded but also the lives .together of its members as part of the Christian community will have deep-ened. Within the process they will have experienced trust, faith, sinfulness and forgiveness. In a very real way they have participated in the life, death, and resurrection of the Lord by sharing the work of seeking the truth, facing their sinfulness, and participating in the forgiveness and love necessary to come to consensus. Certainly, this method of proceeding is consistent with who they are~ More importantly, they have allowed the means of their decision-making to enter into their purpose for being together. Just as we assume that the end does not justify the means, in discernment spirituality we go one step further to say that the means enters into the end. All parts of the process are important and must be consistent with the truth and love which a discerning group is called to seek. Communal discernment provides that opportunity more than other decision-making methods. There is no one way of conducting a communal discernment. As long as the seven elements are observed, the variations can be many. A group might prepare and study an issue for several months and then come together for a day, allowing forty-five minutes for each part of the prayer, cons and pros, while leaving the rest of the day for consensus. Or, if time is short, a group may look at cons during one meeting, pros at a second, and consensus at a third. Less complicated situations or smaller groups might use a shorter time. Sometimes people ask how a group knows what issues to use for discern-ment. Usually, as any group stays together, there are any number of issues that arise and need to be settled. Communal discernment is best used on those issues which touch the common vocation. Lesser issues can be handled admin-istratively. They do not need the amount of time and effort that is required of an entire group in communal discernment. 1~36 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 In conclusion, in our own day we have come to realize more and more that it takes the entire community to hear the infinitely rich word of God. No one person has ears big enough to do this on his own. Most of us also accept committee meetings, team efforts, total staff participation, and second opin-ions as a normal part of life. The age of the loner or even of the enlightened amateur is waning. As our awareness of life's richness and complexities increases, we are encouraged to look beyond our personal wisdom to a wider group of conscientious people who will be with us in our decision-making. No one wants the burden of closing a school, opening a new department, with-drawing a subsidy, initiating a new field of research completely alone. More and more we are relying on a gathering of friends, experts, or colleagues to decide corporately what is the best way to go. Most of us, too, have experienced a certain frustration with groups and meetings. Projections and power struggles, contracts and silences that we may have learned to handle and work with on a more individual, personal level, often become very complex in a group. Our current skills do not always seem to work. The group becomes a hindrance rather than a help for our endeavors. On the brighter side, most of us learn quite early that "none of us is as smart as all of us." In our labored ignorance in seeking for truth we welcome as much help as we can get. Theologically, we may have been alerted to the awesome interchange that takes place between God and humankind. The Lord has visited his creatures, and we are a part of that magnificent inter-change. Communal discernment offers us a way of participating in this mystery. At the close of the Deliberations, the author has the following remarks that might well be our goal as well as our prayer during communal discernment. By the feast of St. John, all our business was pleasantly concluded in the spirit of perfect harmony. But it was only by first engaging in prolonged vigils and prayers, with much expenditure of physical and mental energy that we resolved these problems and brought them to this happy conclusion. A Note on Small Beginnings in The Spiritual Exercises Nancy M. Malone, O.S.U. Sister Nancy has been enjoying a "spiritual sabbatical" after a period of service as director of a retreat center and a regional director of the National Institute for Campus Ministries (NICM). She is residing at the Ursuline Convent of St. Angela; 265 East 162nd St.: Bronx, NY 10451. Talking about one's Thirty Day Retreat can, I suppose, be like talking about one's operation, and probably for the same reasons. It is all so intensely meaningful and interesting to the person who has undergone it as to be endlessly fascinating--to her. This article is not about my retreat in the sense of recounting those profound and personal things that happened to me during it. It is about several devices embedded in the text of The Spiritual Exercises which I believe contain one of Ignatius' much-praised psychological insights. The insight is displayed in the various and canny ways that Ignatius has. us use to bring ourselves from "a distance" to "closer," or from "outside" to "inside" in respect tothe scene or person(s) we are contemplating, or, in sohae cases, from "outside" to "inside" ourselves. Underlying the devices is what might be called the "vestibule principle," the need, recognized by Ignatius, among others, that scattered and externalized human beings have to go through an "anteroom" before entering into the "Holy of Holies." Put another way; Ignatius' insight has to do with ways of our becoming "present." I came upon this insight in the course of my Thirty Day Retreat at Loyola House in Guelph, Canada. I used the text of The Exercises itself as translated by Elder Muilan, S.J. Having been warned about Ignatius' less than elegant style and less than contemporary theology and imagery, I nonetheless approached the text on the assumption that the man had chosen his words very carefully and for a purpose. This assumption of intentional precision paid off. 837 11311 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 Take, for instance, the "second prelude" (the composition of place) in all of the exemplary contemplations that Ignatius lays out in the Second and Third Weeks. On the Incarnation: "Here it will be to see the great capacity and circuit of the world, in which are so many and such different people; then likewise, in particular, the house and rooms of Our Lady in the city of Naza-reth, in the Province of Galilee." On the Nativity: "It will be here to see with the sight of the imagination the road from Nazareth to Bethlehem; consid-ering the length and the breadth .'.; likewise looking at the place or cave of the Nativity, how large, how small . " On the Passion: "It will be here to consider the road from Bethany to Jerusalem, whether broad, whether narrow .; likewise the place of the Supper, whether large, whether small . "And again on the Passion: "It will be here to consider the road from Mount Sion to the Valley of Josaphat, and likewise the Garden, whether wide, whether large. . . ." (Notice, by the way, that following his own advice to directors in the "second annotation," Ignatius doesn't paint the picture for us; he simply lays out categories for our imaginations to play with.) Wh'y all this attention to "circuits" and "roads"?. Much has been made in preached retreats I've attended of the difficulties that Mary and Joseph expe-rienced in the journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem. Now if such is the point of so composing that place, it doesn't apply to the other composition mentioned here. But I don't think it is the point. 1 think the point is not content but process. Ignatius knew that something happens inside us when we not only imaginatively put ourselves in a place, but actually imagine ourselves getting there. We are, somehow, more there than if we had begun simply by imagining ourselves there in the first place. In the process of coming, we become present. Ignatius follows a similar process in the three points that he gives us for the contemplations of the Second and Third Weeks: "to see the persons . " "to hear what they are talking about., . to look at what they are doing . " Most people I have asked assume that Ignatius simply wants us to see, hear and understand what is going on in every scene, that it was only the exigencies of getting this down on paper that dictated his separating the three operations into "three points." If you think about it for a minute, though, he could have found an easier way of doing this, if he wanted to. But perhaps he didn't.I Perhaps Ignatius was again bringing us "closer from a distance," this time from outer to inner space. There is a certain kind of knowledge that we acquire simply by observing people across the proverbial crowded room. It ~The separation of the three operations" is particularly marked in the contemplation on the Incarnation where one might have expected Ignatius to direct us to see, hear and look at the persons.on the face of the earth, and then the Three Divine Persons, and then our Lady. Instead, he so constructs the points that he groups the persons together under the separate operations. On the other hand, as an indication that you can't push this thesis too far. he, for some reason not clear to me, changes to the wording of the Second Point in the contemplation on the Nativity from his usual "to hear" to "look, mark and contemplate what they are saying." ¯ Small Beginnings / 839 may be that we gaze more intently when it is only through that one sense that we receive data. It may be that there is in all of us a tendency towards a certain voyeurism, the unobserved observer looking at those who reveal themselves precisely because they don't know that they are being observed. At any rate, when we move close enough also to hear what is being said, we are also moving closer to inner space. We learn something more and different about people than what we learn by merely watching them. It is not only the words that we listen to; it is the quality and tone of voice, inflection, and phrasing. And all of these things are revelatory of the self within; all of them deal "out that being indoors each one dwells," as Hopkins says. But it is in the third point that we arrive at the heart of the matter, as it were. Ignatius tells us to "look at what they are doing," and the way he explicates that in every case makes it clear that what he is after is not another act of imaginative seeing, but an understanding, an entering into the inten-tions, the affections--the hearts--of those we are contemplating: "the Divine Persons . . . working out the most Holy Incarnation . . .; Our Lady . . . humbling herself and giving thanks to the Divine Majesty . . ."; Our Lord being born, "that He may die on the Cross; and all this for me." We have been led, if we have followed the process, from sense knowledge to heart knowl-edge, from outer distance to inner closeness. Consider again Ignatius' meditation on Hell, which can and does present formidable difficulties to present-day directors and retreatants. Many think it more effective to meditate on Hell by considering interior states such as alienation, despair, loneliness and hatred, rather than "great fires, wailings, howlings, smoke, sulphur, dregs, etc." Well, in the first place, I think that lgnatius is on sounder ground, theologically and anthropologically, in not passing over the part played by our body in reaping the bitter fruits of sin that it has helped to sow. And though he doesn't psychologize our suffering too much--too soon, he does bring us inside ourselves in an astute way, and he does this through our bodies. We are directed, it is true, to see the fire, to hear the cries and blasphemies, to smell the putrid things. But when it comes to the sense of taste, we are told to taste, not rotten food or rancid drink, but ourselves: "bitter things, like tears, sadness, and the worm of conscience." In this case, we move from outer to inner through that sense which is, in a way, most inside us. Finally, there is that intriguing little device that we are counseled to use by the Third Addition. "A step or two before the place where I have to con-template or meditate, l will put myself standing for the space of an Our Father . " So often we no more plunk ourselves into our prayer chair than we plunk ourselves also into the cave at Bethlehem, or into the heart of the Trinity. No, at the very outset of prayer, Ignatius has us bring ourselves, physically and spiritually, through a tiny vestibule, no bigger than "a step or two away" or "the space of an Our Father." Now, what does all of this have to say, apart from the fact that, in my 1141~ / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 experience, these devices work? Having said it all, I want to emend one of my original statements. Ignatius' insight is profound, but it is not strictly and merely "psychological." The insight underlying all of these devices has to do not just with the workings of our psyches, but more precisely with the work-ings of body and soul on each other, more precisely, with the organic unity of the human person. On another level, presuming that I am right about what is going on in these instances, that Ignatius is directing us to follow a carefully constructed process, these reflections also say something about the value of using his text as it is. And they suggest that, when The Exercises are accommodated, some explicit attention ought to be given to constructing a process designed to achieve the same results. The Charism of Poverty Robert Faricy, S.J. Father Faricy also wrote "By His Wounds," which appeared in the issue of May, 1979, as well as other articles. He continues to teach at the Gregorian University; Piazza della Pilotta. 4; 00187 Roma, Italy. Poverty can be considered as a vow, as an interior psychological state, or as a gift. Religious poverty, at the most profound level, is a charism; it is a special gift from the Lord before it can be a response to the Lord's love--because it is precisely the gift, the charism, of poverty that empowers me to respond to the Lord's love by living my commitment to him and to be poor for him. Poor With Jesus Poor The gospel text about the rich young man refers to the counsel of poverty and stands as the classically cited passage concerning the vow of poverty. "Jesus said to him: 'If ~,ou would be perfect, go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me'" (Mt 19:21). This fits with Jesus~ general teaching on poverty as a Christian value: "Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven . For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also" (Mt 6:19-20). "It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven" (Mt 19:24). "The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field which someone has found; he hides it, and goes off happy, and sells everything he owns and buys that field" (Mt ! 3:44). The most important words in Jesus' invitation to the rich young man are, "Come, follow me," and they should be understood in the context of Jesus' 841 1142 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 teaching on discipleship: "If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross and follow me. For anyone who wants to save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it" (Mr 16:24-25). The Christian virtue of poverty, then, consists of renouncing self, taking up the cross, and following Jesus. But there is, beyond the general call to a certain poverty, at least interior, and to the cross, a further call, a call to go further and to give more. This call Jesus addressed to the rich young man. Like all Jesus' invitations, it calls, and it empowers to respond. The power to answer the call to a radical poverty, to a special following of Jesus on the way of the cross, is the charism of poverty. Not all Christians are called to this kind of poverty, to this radical way of being poor with Jesus poor. But some are. And the power to live out the answer to that call is the charism of poverty. As a charism, poverty enables me to serve the Lord with a special freedom. I am free to serve him in an apostolate that earns a good salary, or a small one, or that earns nothing at all. Money and material advantages do not determine my choices in serving the Lord. And so the charism of poverty "builds up the body of Christ" i:n that it frees me more for service. And, further, it relates me in a particular way to Jesus, making me his disciple in chosen radical poverty, in the poverty of the cross. When Jesus dies on Calvary, he has nothing. Not only does he die without any material possessions at all, but he dies stripped of all honor, of all dignity, of all respect. He dies, not like a common criminal, but more shamefully, like an uncommon criminal; he dies, not just rejected by his own people, but outside the framework of civilized society, on a hill outside the gate~ outside the city, cut off from human society. Subjected to extensive and horribly severe torture, both physical and psy-chological, he finally dies without composure, without a vestige 'of human dignity, feeling utterly abandoned even by God and crying out to God, "Why have you abandoned me?" The gospel accounts of Jesus' death are strikingly laconic. The Church had no crucifixes for hundreds of years, until the shock could be assimilated; the shock of the terribleness of Jesus' death. So too, the charism of poverty takes one beyond just material poverty freely chosen, lived out voluntarily. The charism of poverty associates one intimately with Jestis in his passion and death, crucifying one to the world and the world to him (see Ga 6:14). "1 have been crucified with Christ" (Ga 2:19). It frees me from ambition for honors, for applause, for attention from others. The charism of poverty acts as an antidote for that malady thai has beset professionally religious people since the scribes and the pharisees and before: the need for na'rcissistic feedback. ~ The charism of poverty empowers me to be poor with Jesus poor, poor materially and poor interiorly, stripped of everything, for love of Jesus who calls me. Religious poverty is not, then, some kind of stoical pragmatism, a streamlining for service. It does free me for service. But beyond that, and more The Charism of Poverty / 1143 importantly, it relates me in love to Jesus who laid down his life for me. Poverty and Liberation , One of the fruitful insights of the Latin American theology of liberation is that religious poverty frees me to become one with those who live in oppres-sive poverty; it enables me to enter into solidarity with the downtrodden, the suffering, the poor, the marginal people who, with Jesus, are "outside the city," outside respectable human society. 1 can see Jesus in them, the least of his brothers and sisters. And, united intimately in love with Jesus, I enter into a fraternal solidarity with the most oppressed, the poorest, the most marginal of his brothers and sisters. I find Jesus most clearly and distinctly in the most needy--in the retarded, in prisoners, in the .very ill--whether physically or mentally or both, in the outcasts and the severely troubled and poorest of the poor. Not that entering into solidarity with those who have nothing is my motive for living poverty. The motive is love. The motive is Jesus, who calls me in love to respond to his love for me. This loving response, made in the power of his Spirit, leads me to live out religious poverty; and it leads me to a preference for the poor. The gospel preference for the poor stands at the hea'rt of Jesus' teaching; it runs through the Acts of the Apostles and Paul's letters; and it holds the thematic center of the letter of James. In his public life Jesus goes to the oppressed, eats with whores and publicans, heals the sick, raises up those who are brought low. This gospel preference for the poor is, always, an apostolic priority. To be poor with Jesus mear~s to be poor with the least of his brothers and sisters so as to participate in Jesus' mission of redemption, a mission he always understood as applying to this life as well as to the next. "He has sent me to bring the good news to the poor, to proclaim freedom to captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set free the downtrodden . " (Lk 4:18). The charism of poverty empowers me to go to Jesus in the poor and~the needy and the oppressed, because I can give up everything for him,. because lam free to love him and' to serve him in the downtrodden, the outcasts, the marginal people. This freedom that the charism of poverty gives me is, firsi of all and above all, an interior freedom. It takes the form of a radical and thoroughgoing dependence on God, a dependence that looks to the Lord for salvation, for liberation from present difficulties both for myself and for those whom the Lord has called me to serve. The theology of liberation has not always recognized the primacy of pov-erty of spirit, of that interior freedom that has the shape of a total dependence on the Lord. God does save his people, bring them out of bondage, i'edeem them. But this deliverance and this redemption begin, on the part of the people, with crying out to the Lord, with a desperate recourse to the only one who can truly save. The Old Testament event of the Exodus dominates Israel's theology as a 8411 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 category of salvation. God frees his people, now and always, just as he did then. Deliverance from Egyptian bondage begins, not with political commit-ment, nor with education, nor with the solidarity of the oppressed, but with the interior poverty that cries out to the Lord. The Bible's oldest passage, directions and a prayer for the temple offering of the first fruits of the harvest, goes like this: The priest shall take the basket from your hand, and set it down before the altar of the Lord your God. And you shall make response before the Lord your God, saying, "A wandering Aramean was my father: and he went down into Egypt and sojourned the~e, few in number: and there he became a nation, great, mighty, and populous. And the Egyptians treated us harshly and afflicted us, and laid upon us harsh bondage. "Th~n we cried out to the Lord the God of our fathers, and the Lord heard our voice, and saw our afflictior~, our toil, our oppression. And the Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, with great terror, with signs and wonders; and he brought us into this place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey. And behold, now I bring the first of the fruit of the ground which you, O Lord, have given me" (Dr 26:4-1 I). The New Testament event-category that is analogous to the Exodus, and is its fulfillment, is the death and resurrection of Jesus. Jesus' deliverance from the powers of darkness is his passage from death to risen life. This passage has its beginning in his crying out to the Father, "My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?'~ (Mt 27:46). Jesus uses the opening line of Psalm Twenty-two. as a prayer to express his feeling of being abandoned by the Father, as a prayer of lamentation, an expression of profound poverty, of radical depen-dence on the Father. As a lament, Jesus' prayer expresses not only his own feeling of being abandoned, but also--implicitly--his abandonment into the hands of the Father. Jesus' prayer of crying out to the Lord leads directly to his death--Matthew's words are carefully chosen, Jesus "yielded up his spirit" to the Father, and in Luke's account Jesus cries in a loud voice, "Father, into your hands 1 commend my spirit." This abandonment into the Father's hands is the essence of interior pov-erty. The charism of religious poverty gives me the power to surrender to God, to say "yes" to the Father with Jesus, and in and through him. Jesus' whole life finds its summation and meaning in his death on the cross, because his death, like his life, was a surrender, a "yes" to the Father. "Jesus Christ . . . was not Yes and No; in him it is always Yes. For all the promises of God find their Yes in him. That is why we say the Amen through him, to the glory of God" (2 Co i:19-20). Prayer for an Increase, of the Charism of Poverty We can pray for a new outpouring of the charism of religious poverty: Lord Jesus, I ask you for a new fullness of the charism of poverty. I ask you to reveal to me now my inordinate attachments, my holding on to things or to persons, my .~'richness" that keeps me from saying a more comp'lete Yes The Charism of Poverty to you. I surrender to you my excessive search for material comforts, and what-ever material goods I have that I do not really need to serve you. I surrender to you my excessive need for attention, for acclaim and applause, for narcissistic feedback from others; I surrender all my selfish ambitions, my search for honors, my vainglory and my pride. I surrender to you my possessiveness of those whom I love; teach me to love (mention the names of any person or persons that you tend to be attached to in a selfish or possessive way)freely, leaving others free; teach me to love with an open hand. I renounce the possessiveness in my love for others; teach me to love more and better. And l ask you now for new graces, for new power to live for you, for a new outpouring of the charism of religious poverty. Give me the interior poverty that depends on you and not on the world's acceptance. You say to me now, "lf the world hates you, know that it has hated me before it hated you; if you were of the world, the world would love its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you. Remember the word that I spoke to you: a servant is not greater than his master" (Jn 15:18-20). Teach me, Lord, to enter by the narrow gate that leads to life (Mr 7:13-14). You are that gate, Lord; let me follow you, taking up my cross. For ybu alone, Lord, are my portion. I have no inheritance, for you are my inheritance; I want no possessions, for you are my possession (Ezk 44:28). Amen. The Forgiving What has been burned is burned, but ashes stir to unseen winds and whirlpool into life raised higher than the flames that birthed them to seed the clouds that grow the tender rains. Sister Linda Karas, RSM Mercy Consultation Center P.O. Box 370 Dallas, PA 18612 The Other Side of Humility: Its Clarity and Strength Frederick G. McLeod, S.J. Father McLeod is an associate professor of the Department of Theological Studies at St. Louis University. He resides at 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis. MO 63108. Christian tradition,] particula, rly in its Scriptures and spiritual writings, has set humility on a prominent pedestal. In fact, it extols humility as the foremost of all the moral virtues, even on a par with charity. It proclaims humility as the weapon with which to parry and fend off the deadly enemy of humanity-- pride. It also trumpets humility as the way that those who are on the last rung of life can mount to the top. Yet, it is a virtue whose meaning and importance are still widely misunderstood. If queried, few today, I suspect, would be able to state accurately what it is, and why it is so central to the Christian message and life. Current Views Humility is not a popular'virtue among our contemporaries. For some, it still evokes unease, if not profoundly negative feelings. In the past, when pride was targeted as the number-one enemy, writers and preachers exhorted us to take up the club of humility to beat down our pride. Unfortunately, in the process many also clubbed down healthy self-love--an experience that still rankles in some. ~This tradition is amply documented in the articles on Humility in the Dictionnaire de Spiritual-itb. Vll, 1136-87. and in The New Catholic Encyclopedia, Vll. 234-36. For a popular but some-what dated book on this subject, see Nivard Kinsella. O.C.S.O. Unprofitable Servants (Westminster: Newman Press. 1960). 846 The Other Side of Humility / 1147 Then, too, pithy statements and striking examples from the lives of such spiritual giants as Saints Paul,2 Benedict3 and Francis of Assisi4 were hailed-- often out of context--as offering the ideal attitude that ought to govern our relationships with others. We were urged to consider ourselves as the worst of all sinners and everyone else better than ourselves. To live thus--according to this advice--is to be humble! While respecting the sincerity of the saints and reluctant to question their spiritual wisdom, many today simply confess their Confusion. They do not see how one, especially a saint of the magnitude of Paul or Benedict or Francis, can truthfully claim to be the worst of all sinners. Moreover, to affirm that all others are better than ourselves in all circumstances is patent nonsense. But what is worse, some who have tried in the past to live out such humility are still,~struggling with lingering feelings of an inferiority complex, ls this the lowliness that humility seeks to instill and achieve? in the past, too, humility was the favorite virtue extolled by authority. Though Christ's remarks on humility seem to have been. directed mainly to those with power and authority, hu

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 21.1 of the Review for Religious, 1962. ; Volume 1962 21 EDITORIAL OFFICE St. Mary's College St. Marys, Kansas BUSINESS OFFICE 428 E. Preston St. Baltimore 2, Maryland ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS John E. Becker, S.J. Emile G. McAnany, S.J. DEPARTMENTAL EDITORS Questions and Answers Joseph F. Gallen, Woodstock College Woodstock, Maryland Book Reviews Earl A. Weis, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana Published in January, March, May, July, September, Novem-ber on the fifteenth of the month. REVIEW FOR RELI-GIOUS is indexed in the CATHOLIC PERIODICAL IN-DEX. CONGREGATION OF RELIGIOUS Extern Sisters of Monasteries of Nuns AN INSTRUCTION TOGETHER WITH STATUTES CONCERNING THE SISTERS ENGAGED IN THE EXTERNAL SERVICE OF MONASTERIES OF NUNS. TheI characteristic condition of nuns living within cloister is such that in order to safeguard their life of recol-lection, it is necessary that there be certain persons to take care of the business and affairs of the monastery outside the cloister. Accordingly, therehas never been a time when there was a lack of pious women who generally lived out-side the cloister and who were not obligated by any bonds which properly speaking could be called the bonds of re-ligious life. Such women were given the title of oblates, mandates, portresses, or some other such name. In the course of time, however, these pious women ex-pressed a desire for a more intimate participation in the life of the cloistered nuns; and in various places they were permitted to remain obligated to the external service of a monastery after making a special resolution, .promise, oath, or vow. Moregver, there were rules, constitutions, and statutes which were approved by the Holy See and which consecrated this proposal of,leading their life in a religious way. In modern times the decree of the Sacred Congregation of Religious, Conditio plurium monasteriorum, of July 16, 1931, effected and regulated this state as a stable one of sisters with simple religious vows. These sisters (see Statuta a sororibus externis monasteriorum monialium cuiusque Ordinis servanda [Statutes [or the Extern Sisters.of Monas-teries of Nuns o[ Every Oi'der], n. 4) were declared to be "members of the community they serve and participants in the same spiritual goods as the nuns." In order, how-ever, that the juridical incorporation of the sisters into the community should not endanger the contemplative life of ¯ The original text of this document appeared in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 53 (1961), pp. 371-80. Extern Sisters VOLUME 21~ 1962 1 4" ÷ Congregation oy Religious REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the nuns, a general norm was laid down according to which the sisters were to live in. a part of the monastery outside of papal cloister. The experience, however, of the last thirty years has clearly shown that a number of things in the Statutes of 1931 need to be modified by adapting them to more recent pontifical documents concerning the life of nuns, by omit-ting certain prescriptions of common law already included in the constitutions of nuns, and by accommodating them more closely to the tules and constitutions of the second Order to which the sisters belong. Accordingly, the Sacred Congregation of Religious has decided to make a new, shorter, but complete edition of the previously mentioned Statutes. The following points, however, are to be noted. 1. Monasteries of nuns which do.not have sisters for ex-ternal. service and do not need them since the external ser-vice of the monastery is taken care of by secular persons of known worth who have been chosen with the consent of the lbcal ordinary and who live outside of cloister are not obliged to inaugurate this class of sisters. 2. Where the rules or constitutions of a given order ex-pressly prescribe and regulate the external service 6f sisters for a monastery of nuns, the canonical dispositions by which this service is governed retain their full force, pro-vided they are not contrary to the sacred canons nor to the apostolic konstitution, Sponsa Christi. 3.If for the sake of better preserving the spirit of their own foundation and vocation the nuns of an Order wish to insert into their own constitutions special dispositions for the external service of the monastery, they are free to draw up such dispositions, which, however, are to be sub-mitted for the approbation of the Sacred Congregation of Religious. Afer a similar approbation by the same congregation, such prescriptions may also be inserted into the statutes of those federations erected by the Holy See which preserve within the same Order a somewhat diversified practice of regular observance. HOwever, the prescriptions to be added either to the constitutions or to the statutes of the federation according to the nature of the Order are to be conformed to the following gen.eral statutes. Chapter 1: On the Duties and Place of Residence o[ Sisters Devoted to External Service ARTICLE I § I. With the consent of the chapter and with the ap-proval of the local ordinary as well as that of the regular superior if they are subject to one, monasteries of nuns may make provisions for sisters destined for external ser-vice whose principal duty will be to serve the monastery in those external matters which can not be cared for by the cloistered members. § 2. Moderate works of the apostolate connected with the monastery but performed outside papal cloister may be considered as part of the external service, to.which~ the sisters are destined. ~ "'~ ~ , :~'~, ARTICLE 2 The extern sisters are members of the community of their monastery, and in the orderof precedence come after the choir nuns and the lay sisters (conversaq);. they profess the same rule and constitutions as their fellow religious the nuns, but by reason of their proper office they are sub-ject to the present statutes which repeal some prescriptions of the rule and the constitutions. § 1. Without prejudice to article 4, the extern sisters have a residence which is annexed to the monastery and which is subject to common cloister (see canon 604 and the instruction Inter cetera, n. 73), though not within the limits of the papal cloister of the nuns (see the instruction, Inter cetera, n. 11 b; 44 b). Accordingly, they may not enter the part of the monastery reserved for the nuns except in accordance with the provisions made in these statutes. § 2. Without prejudice to the stricter law of individual monasteries, the superior with the consent of her council and with the approbation of the local ordinary and of the regular superior if there be one, has the right to permit the extern sisters to meet at times with the nuns inside the cloister of the monastery for sake of piety or instruction as well as for eating and recreating together, care' being taken that nothing detrimental follows from this. At these times, the sisters, even though they should be questioned impru-dently, should refrain from referring to things they have sebn or heard outside the monastery; they should especially keep silent about matters which do not set a good.'bxample or which can disturb peace ~nd application 6f mind. The superior with her councilors should watch over these mat-ters; and if the entrance of the sisters into the monastery furnishes the occasion for abuses, suitable remedies should be used. § 3. In accordance with the, judgment of the superior and her council together with a previous and at least a general approbation of the local ordinary and of the regu-lar superior if there be one, the sisters living outside the cloister may at times be used for the internal dut'ies of the monastery, care being .taken that they do not habitually associate with the nuns. § 4. What is said in this article about the entrance of the ÷ 4- + Exterrt Sisters VOLUME 21, 1962 ÷ ÷ ÷ Congregation o~ Religious REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 4 sisters into cloister holds as well for postulants and for novices of the second year of novitiate. ARTICLE § 1. Attention being given to the spirit and nature of each order as well as to the number of nuns living in a monastery, monasteries, after a previous vote of the chap. ter and, in the case of monasteries belonging to a federa-tion, after hearing the council Of the federation, may with the approbation of the Holy See permit the extern sisters to be habitually within the limits of the cloister of the monastery, even though they are not bound by the law of papal cloister. In this case precautions should be taken that such association of the sisters with the nuns bound by the law of cloister does not harm the spirit of recollection; besides other precautions, a kind of separation should be instituted within the cloister similar to that prescribed for the novitiate (canon 564, § 1), and the sisters should be forbidden to relate to the nuns the things that happen outside of cloister. § 2. Since they are not bound by the law of papal clois-ter, sisters who habitually live within the cloister, may, ac-cording to the jud .gment of the superior, leave the cloister for the external service or work of the monastery or for another just and reasonable cause. Without violation of the discipline and the purpose of the postulancy and the novitiate (canon 565), the same provision holds also for novices even 'of the first year of the novitiate and for the postulants, if the postulancy, accord-ing to the norm of article 9, § 2, is made within the clois-ter. ARTICLE The residence and other places outside the limits of cloister destined for the extern si~ters are subject to the vigilance and visitation not only of the local ordinary and of the regular superior if there be one, but also, due pre-scriptions being observed, of the superior of the monastery and of the moderator of the federation in the case of fed-erated monasteries (see the instruction, Inter cetera, n. 24, 5°). ARTICLE § 1. In order that works of the apostolate be exercised in monasteries in a stable way according to the norm of article 1, § 2, besides the previous approval of the local or-dinary and of the regular superior if there be one, the ap-probation of the Holy See is required. § 2. In exercising the works of the apostolate, the sisters should follow the norms set down by the local ordinary. ARTICLE 7 § 1. The habit of the sisters should be the same as that of the nuns, suitably accommodated, however, by the chap-ter to the purpose of external service according to the circumstances of time and place. : . ~ § 2. With regard to'th~ ~eii~s :habit in of one and the same ~ederation, the sisters, as far as pos-sible, should be dressed in the same way. Chapter 2: On the Training o[ Extern Sisters Aa'rIcL~ 8 In admitting and forming extern sisters, the same con-ditions should be observed as those prescribed in the con-stitution~ for the nuns of the monastery, account being ~aken, however, o~ the former's special role. The superior with her council should see to it that only those asp.irants are accepted who are mature in judgment and conspicuous for more than ordinary piety, in order that in their deal-ings with seculars, especially outside the monastery, they may give an outstanding example. Ax~cL~ 9 § 1. The postulancy should last one year; the superior, however, having heard her council, may reduce this time to six months or prolong it for another six months beyond the year, according as seems necessary for the fitting prepa-ration. of a postulant for the novitiate. § 2. The postulancy should be made in the residence of the sisters in order that the postulants may be exercised and tested in their proper duties. Nevertheless, in accordance with the judgment of the superior and her council and with the approval of the local ordinary and of the regular superior if there be one, the postulancy can be made within the monastery; that is, within the cloister of the nuns, without prejudice, how-ever, to the statutes of the federation if it is the case, of a federated monastery nor to article 4, § 2. ARTICLE 10 § 1~ The novitiate is to last for two years. The first of these years is strictly canonical; and although these novices are not bound by the law of papal cloister, it is to be made together with the novices within the cloister of each mon-astery or, if it is a case of a federation, of another monas-tery of the federation. This year, in order to be valid, mus, t be whole and continuous according to tile norms of law. § 2. In order that the novices be exercised in their proper works, the second year of the novitiate should be made in the proper residence of the sisters under the vigi, lance of a specially designated sister who is to givea report E~tern Sisters VOLUME ~'1, 1962 5 lllll! I ÷ .t- ongregation ot l~liglous REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 6 to the mistress of novices. Two months before profession, the novices should refrain completely from external ser-vice and remain within the novitiate of the monastery in order that there under the direction of the mistress of novices they may be able to prepare themselves more tran-quilly for profession. § 3. In accordance with the judgment of the superior and her council and with the approval of the local or-dinary and of the regular superior if there be one, this second year also can be made within the monastery with-out, however, the novices being bound by papal cloister. § 4. In training the novices in religious life, while in-structions and conferences are to be given in the same way as is prescribed in the constitutions for the novitiate of nuns, special care should be taken to give them instruc-tions in the external matters and affairs for which they are destined. A~T~CLE 11 The novitiate made by extern sisters is not valid for choir nuns or for lay sisters (conversis); nor is the novitiate made for choir nuns or for lay sisters valid for extern sis-ters. ARTICLE 12 § 1. On the completion of the novitiate, the novice should make a profession of simple temporary vows for six years; these should be renewed yearly, at least during the first three-year period. At the end of the six years, they should make a profession of simple, but perpetual vows or return to the world. § 2. In making the profession the rite of each monastery should be retained with necessary changes, however, being made. The first religious profession following the novitiate is to be made by 'the sisters within the cloister of the mon-astery; the renovations of vows, as well as the perpetual profession, should be made outside of cloister at the choir grille of the nuns. However, in accordance with the judg-ment of the superior and her council and with the ap-proval of the local ordinary and of the regular supe~-ior it there be one, these may be made within the cloister. § 8. The formula of' profession should be the same as that of the nuns with the necessary additions and changes; for each profession of the sisters should be made in the quality of an extern sister according to the rule and con-stitutions of the monastery as well as according to the proper statutes for extern sisters approved by the Apostolic See. § 1. Without prejudice to the prescriptions of the con-stitutions concerning the cession of administration and the disposition of the use and usufruct of property, according to the norm of the common law (canon 569, §'1 and canon 580, § 1) every professed of simple vows, whether perpetual or temporary, unless something else is provided for in the constitutions, retains the ownership of her prop-erty and the capacity of.~acqu~rlng.~other 'property:- Lest, however, the extern sisters be solicitous about their prop-erty, even before their profession of temporary vows they should freely make a civilly valid will with regard to pres-ent property as well as to whatever may come to them in the future. They may not change this without the permis-siqn of the Holy See or, if the matter is urgent and there is no time for recourse to the Holy See, without the permis-sion of the superior of the monastery i~ which the sister is a, ctually living. § 2. Without prejudice to any ivtdult granted by the Holy See, the sisters can not renounce their property or abdicate it gratuitously. § 3. The cession or disposition which is treated in canon 569 can be changed by a professed sister not indeed by her own personal decision unless the constitutions allow this, but with the permission of her superior as well as of the local ordinary and of the regular superior if there be one, pro.vided a change which involves a notable part of her property is not made in favor of the monastery. In case of departure from the monastery this cession and disposition lose their force. § 4. Whatever the sister acquires by her own industry or by reason of the monastery, she acquires for the monas-tery. Chapter 3: On the Discipline of the Extern Sisters ARTICLE 14 § 1. The sisters, no less than the nuns, are subject to the superior of the monastery in all things, both with regard to religious discipline and to the service to be done by them. It is the duty of~ the superior to prescribe the habitual order of their exercises for the sisters and to provide in a maternal way whatever is necessary for them to lead their common and individual lives. § 2. The superior can delegate one 6f the extern sisters or a nun mature in prudence and age and professed of perpetual vows to watch that everything pertaining to discipline or service is carried out in an orderly way ac-cording to the commands of the superior. This sister should prudently make what reports are necessary to the superior or to some other nun designated for this and should receive instructions from her. ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ Congregation Religious REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8 ARTICLE 15, § I. The superior should see to it that the extern sisters perform the exercises of piety which are. contained in the rule and constitutions except those which are proper to the choir nuns: § 2. With regard to Holy Communion and to confession, the prescriptions contained in the constitutions for the nuns should be observed. § 3. With regard to occasional confessions, the sisters enjoy the faculties .which are granted to religious women not bound by papal cloister; namely, if a sister for peace of conscience goes to a confessor approved for women by the local ordinary, the confession is valid and licit, when made in a church or an oratory even a semi-public one or in any other place legitimately destined for the confessions of women or of religious women or legitimately designated as such for a particular confession (see canon 522). § 4. With the consent of the superior and the approval of the local ordinary'and of the regular superior if there be one, the spiritual exercises mentioned ih § 1 may be made by the extern sisters inside the cloister of the nuns. ARTICLE 16 As far as possible, the duties of piety treated in the pre-ceding article should be made by the sisters in common. The sisters should also eat and recreate in common. ARTICLE 17 With regard to the laws of abstinence and fast proper to each Order by reason of the rule and the constitutions, the superior should treat the extern sisters mategnally, dispens-ing in these matters insofar as there is real need. It is de-sirable that in each Order or at least in each federation there be set up the same norm for the observance by the sisters of such proper laws. ARTICLE 18 § 1. The sisters should remain at home, diligently en-gaging in prayer and work; and they should not go outside except to care for the business of the monastery or for some other reasonable cause and with the express per-mission of the superior; nor should they leave the house singly without a just cause and the permission of the su-perior. When they go.out, they should be mindful of their state in their conduct and speech with seculars; and by manifesting modesty, piety, meekness, urbanity, and the greatest reverence, they should be a source of edification to all. § 2. The superior may not permit the sisters to live out-side the house except for a just cause and for as short a time as possible; for an absence which exceeds a month there is required the permission of the local ordinary and of the regular superior if there be one; for an absence, moreover, which lasts beyond six months, the permission of the Apostolic See is necessary. ARTICLE 19 § 1. A sick sister who, in the judgment of the physician or the superior, can not be conveniently cared for in the external residence, may be brought into cloister; and her cloistered fellow religious should take care of her with the greatest charity, offering their help kindly and solicitously. § 2. In the same way, aged sisters who ha~;e become in-capable of external service and who lack suitable assistance in the external residence may, with the permission of the superior to be granted with the consent of the council and with the approval of the local ordinary and of the regular superior if there be one, be admitted into the monastery. § 3. The superior, however, should be vigilant lest on this occasion the discipline of the nuns, especially the spirit of recollection which should always flourish within the cloister, should suffer harm. The matter having been taken up with His Holiness John XXIII in an audience granted to His Eminence the cardinal prefect on March 1, 1961, the Sacred Congrega-tion of Religious in accordance with the commission given it by the apostolic constitution, Sponsa Christi, of Novem-ber 21, 1950 (Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 43. [1951], p. 5) and by reason of the powers conferred on it, prescribes and commands that the present norms and statutes concerning the extern sisters of monasteries be put into observa-tion. All contrary matters notwithstanding. Given at Rome, March 25, 1961. VALERIUS Cardinal VALERI, Prefect L.~S. Paul Philippe, O.P., Secretary + 4- + Extern Si~ter$ VOLUME 21, 1962 9 MSGR. AGOSTINO CASAROLI Papal Plan for Latin America Msgr. Casaroli rep-resented the Ponti-ficihl Commission for Latin America at the Second Na-tional Congress of Religious. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 10 It is indeed an honor and a privilege for me to bring you distinguished members of this great assembly1, the cordial greetings, the thanks, and the good wishes of the Pontifical Commission for Latin America. When the Holy See was informed that the Congress of the Major Religious Superiors of the United States was to consider the problems confronting the Church in Latin America as part of its program of studies and delibera-tions, Archbishop Samore, Vice-President of the Pontifical Commission and Secretary of the Sacred Congregation for Extraordinary Ecclesiastical Affairs, was designated to rep-resent the Commission at this gathering and to speak to you of the struggles, of the desires, and of the hopes of the Church in those countries. Undoubtedly Archbishop Samore was the person most qualified to accomplish this mandate, not only because of the prestige of his office in the Church, but particularly be-cause of the deep knowledge he has of questions concei:n-ing all the facets and perspectives of the situation in Latin America where he spent three years as Apostolic Nuncio to Colombia. Moreover, Archbishop Samore also knows the great generosity and the resources of the Church in the United States where he spent some years at the Apostolic Delegation in Washington. But above all, his passionate and unstinting dedication to the cause of the Church in Latin America, which for many years has been one of the main concerns of his life, would have made him, perhaps, the best informed and most authoritative speaker at this convention on that subject. Unfortunately, recent sorrowful events have prevented him from being present here for a task that he considered as a mission to be accomplished for the Church itself. Since I am not in a position to speak with his eloquence 1 This is the text of a speech delivered by Msgr. Casaroli at the Second National Congress of Religious on August 17, 1961. and his personal authority, I shall limit myself to submit-ting briefly for your consideration some objective facts and remarks. Their compelling eloque.nce together with the heartrending appeals of the Popes in favor of Latin Amer-ica will, I am confident, lead you to adopt positive resolu-tions such as the Holy See eagerly expects, from~this as-sembly and from the magnificent group of thousands of men and women religious you represent. The appeal of the Holy See in favor of Latin America is fundamentally based on two considerations to which no true son of the Church, much less religious men and women, can remain indifferent. First, that duty of charity by which the family, the Body, which constitutes the Catholic Church, feels as its own the problems and needs Of each of its parts; all the more so when such needs and problems are more serious and the part of the Church affected hy them is more important. Second, the interest--in the highest and noblest sense of the word---of the entire Catholic Church, since weakness of or dangers to Christian life in such an important sector of the Church, as undoubtedly Latin America is, repre-sents for it a serious menace, while progress there repre-sents a bright promise. Here are a few facts to support these two propositions: 1. The importance of Latin America to the Church; first of all, its numerical importance, since, with about one hundred and eighty million inhabitants, the over-whelming majority of them Catholic, Latin America rep-resents about a third of world Catholicism in numbers. Moreover, the demographic increase of Latin Americam noted, not always without alarm, by sociologists, econo-mists, and political experts--together with the fact that children are traditionally baptized in the Church of their parents even if the latter are not practical churchgoers, would seem to indicate that such increase will augment proportionally in the future. Secondly, an importance arising from the fact that the twenty nations of Latin America, frequently acting en bloc, exercise in international assemblies--which often treat of principles and questions of vital interest to the Churchma very considerable influence. A third motive of importance is the richness of Latin- American Catholicism--although still rather potential than actual--both in quantity and quality, with the con-sequences deriving therefrom for the future development of Catholicism and its spread throughout the world. 2. This sector of Catholicismwimposing as it is both in numbers and unity, in sincerity and solidity of senti-ment, so heroic in times of persecution, so strongly resist-ing internal insufficiencies and dangers from without~ yet surfer's from perilous elemental weaknesses of structure. ÷ ÷ ÷ Latin America VOLUME 21, 1962 ]! ÷ ÷ ÷ Msgr. Casaroli REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]~ Characteristically, these weaknesses are manifested and in a way summarized by the well-known lack of clergy, and indeed of all apostolic workers, in Latin America; a lack which is at the same time the cause and the result of the dangerous situation there, aggravated by the greater menace of the enemies of Catholicism in those countries. Such enemies and such menaces are particularly--as Pope Pius XII declared to the Second World Congress of the Apostolate of the Laity.in October, 1957--"the inroads of Protestant sects; the secularization of .the whole way of life; Marxism, the influence of which is felt in the uni-versities and is very active, even dominant, in almost all labor organizations; and finally a disquieting practice of spiritism." This list, we might add, is only indicative. 3. Faced with this situation, and foreseeing its future developments, some people, pessimists who lack confi-dence in Divine Providence and the Church's supernat-ural resources and who very often are not objective in observing and judging things as they are in reality, even wonder whether in a few decades Latin America will still be a Catholic continent or if it will not rather be com-pletely lost to the Church. The Holy See does not at all share such pessimistic views. On the other hand, the Holy See does not ignore the danger there might be, if oppor-tune measures are not taken or if they are not taken suffi-ciently urgently. The mere possibility that even part of a continent hold-ing such an important place in the Church could be lost to her is more than enough motive to excite in her chil-dren, and particularly in you religious that feeling of dutiful charity and interest mentioned above. 4. In contrast with these deprecable and deprecated possibilities, there shine forth the luminous prospects em-phasized with such eloquence and paternal satisfaction by the Sovereign Pontiffs when speaking of Latin America; but always on condition that the necessary efforts and sac-rifices be made now, with wise generosity and without delay. His Holiness Pope John XXIII, speaking on March 25, 1960, to the Fathers and Mothers General of Institutes of Perfection, asserted: The future of the Church in the vast territories of Latin America appears rich in ineffable promise; and We nourish the firm conviction that Catholic spirit and life :in those regions have in themselves sufficient strength to encourage the most optimistic hopes for the future. Those treasures Of spiritual wealth so profusely bestowed there in the past, and yet more those which will be given with full hands in the future, will .surely give rise to rich fruits of holiness and grace, to the greater joy of the Chui'ch of God. Earlier still, Pope'Pius XII had affirmed with prophetic confidence: renWdeer earde b caocnkf iad ethnot uthsaatn tdhfeo lbdeln Tefhietsr en owwil lr eccoemivee dth we idlla yla wterh ebne Latin America will be able to give back to the entire Church Christ all that it has received; when, as We hope, it shall have put to use those ample and powerful energies which seem only to await the hands of the pr rhieis t, that they may at once be employed for the honor and wo.s P.~o;~f Gx.ozd:., 'a~n;d~,l ;t~h et '~ spread; of Christ's ,~t~r :~l~'b6iesiarn Kingdom on earth (P~us Ch'risti, 1955). ¯ Hence, the conclusions to be drawn ~rom these con-siderations, which could anal sh6uld be developed at greater length, are the ~ollowing: First, the Church~that ~is, all o~ us who, with the Pope, the Bishops and our brothers in the Faith, constitute the Church~has the duty o~ collaboration so that not even a small part o~ that precious heritage o~ the Catholic religion which is Latin America should be lost; second, that the Church has the sacred duty o~ aiding those apostolic ~orces, mostly still latent in Latin-American Catholicism, to activate them-selves, so that their strong support may be.relied upon to engage with high hopes o~ success in the great adventure o~ the conquest o[ the world to the.truth o~ the [aith and to the beauties o[Ghristian living. What is the Church doing, what is the Holy See doing, in regard to the religious problem o~ Latin America? It ¯ would take too long to answer exhaustively or even sum-marily; a ~ew indications are all we can give. First o[ all, it must be said that Latin-American Cathol-icism~ bishops, clergy, religious and ~aith[ul~is reso-lutely working tc~ break the -vicious circle in which it seems to be imprisoned. Good results have been and are being obtained, admirable, praiseworthy, ~ull o~ promise ~or the ~uture. We must also, with all [raternal charity, but also with necessary objectivity, add that the disproportion between the available means, especially o~ personnel, and the ever-growing gravity o[ the tasks to accomplish and the perils to avert is so great, that humanly speaking it would seem impossible, or at least extremely difficult, ~or Latin-Amer-ican Catholicism to be able, unaided, to overcome this critical situation in time. The work o~ the Holy See then, especially in most re-cent times, has been exercised in a two~old effort: (a) that o~ encouraging, aiding and promoting the initiative o~ the Latin-American hierarchy, clergy, religious institutes, and laity; and (b) that o~ encouraging, requesting and discovering collaboration therein ~rom other ~parts o~ the great Catholic ~amily. Regarding the first point, and apart ~rom what concerns the single dioceses or nations, I shall only recall the con-vocation o~ a General Conference o~ the Latin-American Episcopate in Rio de Janeiro in the year 1955 in order to VOLUME ÷ ÷ Msgr. Casaroli REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 14 study the problem together and lay the bases for a vigor- .ous collective effort; then the constitution in 1956 of a permanent office for contact and collaboration between the hierarchies of the various Latin-American countries, called the Latin-American Episcopal Council (CELAM), with its General Secretariat located in Bogat~; and con-sequently the establishment of the Latin-American Reli-gious Conference (CL-AR) in 1958. Passing to the second point, and omitting for brevity's sake anyreference to the collaboration furnished by Spain, Belgium, and other European countries, I shall recall only the meeting held in Washington, D. C., in November, 1959, between representatives of the hierarchies of the United States of America and Canada, and of Latin America, which prepared the foundations of a more in-tense and more closely organized apostolic cooperation of the two great North American nations in favor of those nations situated south of the Rio Grande. As a matter of fact, the Holy See has very great con-fidence, as regards a concerted "Catholic Action" in f.avor of Latin America, in the resources and the generosity of the Catholics of the United States and of Canada, that is to say, concretely, of the bishops, priests, and men and women religious. It is clear that, first of all and above all, this refers to resources of personnel, o~ men and women. In fact, this is the whole purpose of the presence among you of the Pontifical Commission for Latin America in my humble person; namely, to tell you how greatly the Holy See and the Pontifical Commission count upon the understanding and generosity of your religious institutes to aid Latin America; to urge you to respond heartily to its pressing appeal for this work, which the Holy See con-siders essential for the general interests of the Church; and, if necessary, to work together with you to prepare a plan of assistance according to the desires expressed by the Holy See. Of course, the Holy See is quite well aware of all that American religious communities--with their approxi-mately 2,700 members who are now in Latin America-- are already doing in this sense. Their spirit of helpfulness and collaboration has been admirably proven, and the Holy See is sincerely and deeply grateful. But the need is felt to request yet more from your generosity, just as more is being asked also from the generosity of other parts o[ the Church in favor of Latin America. Among the papers which Archbishop Samore had pre-pared for this meeting, I have found a reference to some possible objections, and I quote his own words in this re-gard: It may be objected:First, that just as numerous needs require your presence here in your own country: And I reply:This is true. You do great good here, and yet, in spite of your great numbers, there are not enough of you to meet the evergrowing exigencies of the modern apostolate. But it is also true that in comparison you are much more numerous in proportion to total Catholic population than your confreres in :Latin America. In the United States, for a total Catholic population of about 41,000,000 souls, you had in 1960 more than 21,000 i-eligious priests, 10,000 religious brothers ~rid 170,000 religi0iJs- 'si~ters. Certainly, for the more or less one hundred and eighty mil-lions of Catholics of Latin-America--a total more than four times greater than yours---we are very far from your total num-ber of more than 200,000 members of religious communities and institutes of perfection. You can see how great is the dispropor-tion. You, then, are rich, rich in personnel. And it is from you that personnel is Sought, in the confidence that the Lord will reward you for the generosity with which you give, by sending you ever more numerous vocations.Indeed, I know of particular cases in which, after the acceptance by a particular congregation, for a supernatural motive and at the cost of no little sacrifice, of new fields of apostolic endeavor, their vocations were actually muhi-plied in a geometrical progression. Thus once more the word of the Gospel was verified:Give and it will be given to you, good measure, pressed down, shaken together and flowing over . Second, it may be objected that you are already answering the appeal made in favor of other continents. This too is true. And here too you deserve the highest admiration for what you are doing. But it remains true that we ask from him who has. Be sure I shall never say:Go to Latin America rather than to other countries; I should be guilty of a serious fault and would feel remorse for it. But I do venture to say:Go, even more than you do now, in even greater numbers, to Latin America, without diminishing your efforts and your contribution in favor of other parts of the earth. These are the words of Archbishop Samore; and I be-lieve they remain valid and convincing. And thus we may pass on to the third and last point to consider; namely, what aid does the Holy See expect for Latin America from the religious communities of men and women of the United States, over and above that assistance already being given. I spoke earlier of a "plan"--a popular word nowadays, but truly appropriate in our case. That which the Ghurch feels it necessary to do for Latin America cannot be done through isolated and uncoordinated efforts, no matter how numerous or immediately efficacious they might be. The field is so vast, the urgency so great, and the danger of being circumvented, by enemy forces so real, that all such efforts must be added together, properly channeled, opportunely coordinated, and organically promoted. We could even speak of a real apostolic strategy, to assemble every possible° means, (which resuh always in less than those needed), so that none is lost, none underutilized; to determine the fundamental points of attack and defense; and to concentrate there a common effort so that, by God's grace, action may be prompt, timely, and effective. ÷ ÷ ÷ Latin America VOLUME 21, 1962 15 Msgr. Ca~aroli REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 16 We all recall that His Holiness Pope John XXIII, in, his discourse' to thos.e.attending the third meeting of the' CELAM in Rome, spoke of the opportuneness of setting up a double program for Latin America: a long-term program to solve the basic problems; and an immediate short-term one. Th~ basic solution would be that Latin America succeed in being self-sufficient for its own needs and, we may add, capable also of givi~ng a full and valu-able contribution towards the progress of the universal Church. The collaboration of outside forces should also be aimed towards this end; although immediate needs and exigencies must not be forgotten or neglected, nor yet be given precedence over the long-term basic solution. On its side, the Holy See saw to the establishmeni in 1958 of a "high command" for this effort; namely, the Pontifical Commission for Latin America, which has the duty of "studying in a unified way the fundamental prob-lems of Catholic life in Latin America, and to promote the closest collaboration between the various sacred con-gregations and offices interested in their solution." In their own respective spheres and ranks, the CELAM and CLAR have analagous purposes and aims. On its part, the hierarchy of the United States of America has set up in the National Catholic Welfare Conference a Latin America Bureau (LAB), with. a dynamic and ex-perienced director in the person of Father John J: Con-sidine, M.M. In order the better to coordinate the collaboration re-quested of your communities, it might appear opportune to instruct the Secretariats of your two Conferences to act directly or in cooperation with this Latin America Bureau as the circumstances dictate. In any case, the offices already set up~--together with the Pontifical representatives in the various countriesm can doubtless favor the study and effective realization of an opportune plan. In particular, it becomes possible to coordinate the requests of the ordinaries of each single country, so that the Pontifical Commission for Latin America can consider and evaluate their priority of im-portance and urgency, and recommend them to those or-ganizations or religious communities best ableto ~ope with them. In order that such a plan be realistic, it is of course necessary to know and study, not only the requests pre-sented, but also the means available to meet them. For this reason, the Pontifical Commission would be most greafful to this assembly if, on its part, it were to prepare at least the fundamental lines of a plan of its own. Such a plan should manifest approximately what means and personnel they will place at the disposal of the Holy See and the Pontifical Commission from the men and women religious of the United States of America. Archbishop Samore, in the name of'the Pontifical Com-mission, intended to propose to you a great Ten-Year Plan o[ aid to Latin America, by means of personnel and of foundations, thus corresp6iading to the.needs and requests already received and listed by the Latin America Bureau, and to those which will arrive later. The archbishop's personal knowledge of the generosity of American religous communities, confirmed by their actual contribution in so many diverse fields, encouraged him to make this pro-posal, which I now submit to you in the name of the Pontifical Commission: A Ten-Year Plan: for the decade of the 1960's whiEh may be decisive for the destiny of Latin America even in religious matters, with all the consequences for the Church either for good or evil. If an extraordinarily generous and wise effort is made within those ten years, we have every reason to expect that, with God's help, the battle will be won. A Great Plan: great on the part of the Holy See, of Latin America, and of the Church in general. Great, so the Holy See-hopes, in the contribution of the North American nations, so closely linked to those of Latin America. And great also on your part. This, then, is an appeal to the magnanimity of your communities, and presupposes generosity, self-sacrifice, lofty ideas and great love, love for the Church of Christ, love for God. The concrete content and scope of such a plan is some-thing you must be so kind as to study together among yourselves. Certainly, immense progress would already be made if every community represented here were formally to un-dertake to make, especially during the next ten years, a truly generous contribution of personnel and foundations in favor of the Church in Latin America. Naturally this should be a contribution within the limits of each com-munity's abilities, but also to the extent of your possibil-ities, measured in a great spirit of generosity, sacrifice, and love for the Church, and also measured against the re-quests presented in a plan organized and coordinated by the competent offices. A plan such as this would comprise several divisions, just a few of which we may briefly review: a) direct pastoral ministry, either in parishes, or in groups of parishes such as a deanery, or occasionally in entire ecclesiastical jurisdictions such as Prelatures Nul-lius, Vicariates, and Prefectures Apostolic; b) seminaries; c) educational activities, particularly the foundation of Latin America 17 4. 4. 4. Msgr. Casaroli REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18 American schools, which are so necessary and so strongly desired in Latin America, in a special manner in order to combat the perilous propaganda spread by such schools directed by Protestant sects; d) catechetical activities; e) charitable activities, health programs, social service. This list is merely partial and indicative; but I feel that each of the communities repre~en.ted here today can al-ready see the part it could play therein, either to begin its apostolate in Latin America or to enlarge and intensify those works that several have already undertaken there. Is it worth while making more precise engagements? Is it opportune for each community to determine now a cer-tain percentage of its personnel which will be set aside for the service of the Church in Latin America? The judgment and the decision is left to you. However, interpreting the mind of the Pontifical Commission, I offer you an ideal toward which we reque.st every province to strive. This ideal is the following, namely, that each religious province aim to contribute to Latin America in the next ten years a tithe--ten percent--0f its present membership as of this current year. For example, if the present membership is 500, the ideal would be to con-tribute by the end of this decade fifty members for Latin America. Naturally, all will not be able to achieve this ideal. But it may be possible to reach at least ninety or eighty .per cent of it. For myself, I should like to add one further considera-tion: In no case, should personnel of what might be called inferior quality be set.aside for this work. The Church's cause in Latin America requires that your communities make the sacrifice and have the generosity to devote to it some of the best and most qualified of the vocations sent to them by the Lord. To you, and to the committee you will elect to consider and study this point of your program, let us leave the task of moving forward. The saintly and fatherly Pastor, whom God has set over His Church in our day, when speaking to the Superiors General of the Institutes of Perfection on March 25, 1960, said, "It is necessary that all those who wish to share in the Apostolic anxiety of Our heart, should make every effort and every sacrifice to meet the expectations of that great continent, Latin America." With that prayer, the Holy Father includes his gratitude and his benediction upon all those of his children who give a generous response. COLUMBAN BROWNING, C.P. Woman's Highest Fulfillment Every year hundreds of young women leave behind them family, friends, and the natural joys that might be theirs and enter the religious life. And every year hun-dreds of women go to their eternal reward after having lived their years in the service of God and their fellow man in religion. This vast army of generous women is one of the glories of Mother Church and one of the most con-vincing proofs of her divinity. Such generosity on so large a scale can find its explanation only in the grace of God that leads these women in their youth to the religious state and enables them to persevere in it until death. The world instinctively admires these many women who live their lives in so unselfish a fashion. A religious reception or profession ceremony fills the standers-by with awe and admiration, and they feel instinctively that there is something of God in what they witness. And indeed there is. A religious vocation and the response to that call is always the work of God. What many admiring idealists fail to realize is that the path the young religious enters upon is not an easy one. They admire the generosity of the young woman, but they are no( sufficiently aware of what that generosity costs her. In the practical order, these admirers fail to grasp how really human the young religious is and remains. An ele-ment of "angelism" pervades the thoughts of many out-siders about religious. This attitude is a tribute to the holi-ness of life that has produced it, but it still fails to grasp the genuine heroism of the religious. The young woman who enters religion is just as truly human and as fully a woman as are her classmates who enter the married state. Entering religion means that a young woman surrenders herself to God, making the com-plete gift of her entire self to Him. The greatest offering she makes is that of her womanhood itself, sublimating all her womanly instincts and ambitions to higher ends and 4. 4. 4- Columban Brown-ing. C.P., is the Rec-tor of St. Gabriel Monastery, 1100 63rd Street, Des Moines 11. Iowa. VOLUME 21, 1962 ]9 Columban Browning, C.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 20 purposes. It is precisely in this sacrifice of the natural for the supernatural that the greatest heroism is required, a heroism that cannot exist without the grace of God. And the greatest challenge that the religious faces is how to find in this sublimation the happiness and fulfilment of her deepest womanly aspirations. Because this matter is so.vital to the religious life and because understandably some religious meet with practi-cal difficulties in meeting this challenge, it requires and deserves a proper understanding of the factors involved. In this artidle we shall endeavour to discuss this problem and seek a practical solution to help religious meet the challenge. Factors of the Problem Understanding this problem requires asa starting point an appreciation of woman's nature itself. A full analysis of woman's nature could, of course, require volnmes. But let us here review only briefly the basic characteristics of woman. We can best understand woman's nature by considering it from the point of view of God's plan and purpose. And when we look for God's plan and.purpose we find the key to that plan in the fact that He has given her the body, the mind, and the heart of a mother. Pius XII high-lighted this fact when he said: Every woman is destined to be a mother; a mother in the physical sense of the word, or in a more spiritual and higher but no less real meaning. The Creator has disposed to this end the entire being of woman, her organism, and even more her spirit, and above all her exquisite sensibility. So that a woman cannot see and fully understand all the problems of human life otherwise than under the family aspect (Duties oI Woman in the Social and Political Order, Oct. 21, 1945). Woman is physically prepared for motherhood. She is also psychologically and emotionally disposed for it to the extent that motherhood is the most basic specific craving of a normal woman. Furthermore, she is altrocentric by nature, seeking her fulfillment in another whom she loves and by whom she wants to be loved. It is this that leads a woman to seek a husband and that qualifies her to bestow her undivided love on the child that is the fruit of her motherhood. Since motherhood is the basic orientation of her nature, it is not difficult to single out what is the most character-istic virtue of woman. It is the virtue that makes her motherhood possible and fruitful, the virtue of love. Her heart is filled with a mother's supply of love, and it is a love that must be given in some way. The ordinary young woman finds the object of this love in her husband and her children. In bestowing this love she finds her deepest fulfillment. Woman has by nature other characteristic virtues, of course. But without enumerating them let us merely say here that in her all the other virtues are the servants of love. In a woman who understands her nature propdrly and tries to practice intelligent!y.the vir~tue of love, all the other virtues will follow in due "bi-ddr. Withbt, t that,love at the center of things, the other virtues will also be im-possible to her. This is, in summary, the basic'pattern~of~woman's na-ture as planned by God. This nature is possessed by every normal woman and it is the thing that determines her thinking, her instincts, and her manner of acting. It is easy to see how a woman finds the normal fulfillment of her nature in an ideal marriage. The married woman finds in her husband someone to love and by whom to be loved. In her marriage there: is a complete giving of her-self and sharing of her love, including the physical shar-ing and giving that begets children. In her child, the married woman finds a further outlet for her love and a deep exhilaration of fulfillment. ~ But what about the woman who enters religion? She is and always remains as truly a woman as does her class-mate who marries. She has the same nature, physically, psychologically, and emotionally as her classmate. But she enters a state in which none of these ordinary means of fulfillment are present. She has no husband to love or who will love her, and no ohe in whom she finds a. omparable outlet on the same plane. She has no way of giving her-self in precisely the same way that the married woman has, nor will she ever enjoy the deeply satisfying experi-ence of physical motherhood. The question obviously arises: Is such a one destined inevitably to frustration and the impossibility of fulfill-ment? The answer is just as obvious. We simply cannot doubt that the religious woman, can find fulfillment of her womanly nature. The way of life that a sister lives finds its inspiration in the words and example of our Lord Himself. And the fruits of sanctity in the thousands of woman before her in the same way of life is proof enough that such a woman can find real fulfillment. Indeed, all we need as proof of this is to come' to know just one sister who has lived her religious life successfully. She radiates the best of womanhood to a degree that any other woman can only envy. Her life bears out the truth of the state-ment of Leon Bloy: "The holier a woman, the more she is a woman." Principles of Solution_ When we attempt to explain how a ~eligious can attain fulfillment, a twofold point of view presents itself. The first is the speculative point of view, or considering it + + + Woman's Fulfillment VOLUME 21, 1962 21 4. 4. otumban Browning, C.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 22 from abstract principles. The second a.pproach is from the practical plane. Speculatively, or in the abstract, the answer to the ques-tion is relatively simple. It may be stated this way: The religious woman sublimates all her noble womanly quali-ties and aspirations and finds fulfillment of all on a higher plane. In other words, she dedicates her womanhood in all its fullness to God. And the fulfillment that she fails to find naturally in marriage and motherhood, she finds supernaturally through a total giving of self to God. The love that makes her capable of being a good wife and mother she centers more exclusively on God. This love takes on a new dignity and richness in her dedicated state in that it is more supernatural. Her desire to be a mother finds its sublimation in that, through sacrificing physical motherhood, she achieves a spiritual motherhood toward all souls, and especially toward those whom she personally helps. Thus, on the supernatural plane, one that is richer in true and lasting goods, the religious sister finds an out-let for all her natural inclinations. And in so doing she attains a fulfillment that is really' higher and more reward-ing than is possible for the married woman. Pope Pius XII stated this very clearly in his encyclical on virginity: Finally, it may not be asserted, as some do, that the mutual help which is sought in Christian marriage is a more effective aid in striving for personal sanctity than the solitude of the heart, as they term it, of virgins and celibates. For although all those who have embraced a life of perfect chastity have de-prived themselves of the expression of human love permitted in the married state, nonetheless it cannot therefore be affirmed that because of this privation they have diminished the human personality. For they receive from the Giver of heavenly gifts something spiritual which far exceeds the mutual help which husband and wife confe~ upon each other. They consecrate themselves to Him who is their source, and who shares with them His divine life, and thus personality suffers no loss, but gains immensely. For who, more than the virgin, can apply to himself that marvellous phrase of the Apostle Paul: "I live, now not I; but Christ lives in me" (Sacra virginitas, NCWC edition, n. 39). As we stated before, this is treating the matter from the speculative, or abstract, point of view. And no one can question the validity of this statement of the question. The religious finds fulfillment on an higher plane, devot-ing her womanhood to higher things through the sacrifice of natural goods. When we turn to the discussion of the practical aspects of the same problem, we are guided, of course, by the principles just stated. But since on the practical plane we are concerned with how the individual may realize the ideal in her own life, we are immediately confronted with some difficulty. This difficulty arises from the fact that this higher fulfillment is supernatural. The area of the supernatural is an area of faith. Any supernatural living must be evaluated by principles of faith and all its rewards are supernati~ral. But'just~ as the supernatural life of grace does not destroy the soul's natural life and inclinations, so in our thinking the f~ict that we are guided by faith does not destroy our natural outlook and inclinations. In fact this natural outlook is often the more spontaneous one and needs to be super-naturalized by an act of the will. And it is precisely in the difficulty of maintaining a supernatural outlook on her life of dedication to God in its day by day unfolding that a problem can arise in the life of the individual religious. The goods that she has sacrificed are more tangible and can sometimes be more real to her just because they are natural. The supernatural goods she seeks are spiritual and intangible and can tend at times to be rather unreal to her. In the concrete, then, the conflict amounts to this: The religious is very conscious of her basic natural inclinations and knows that they are toward things that are very real to her. She has a clear idea of what a husband is and is awi~re of her innate desire to be loved by one. She knows what a baby is and feels the instinctive desire for her own baby. She is aware that she has sacrificed these natural goods in order to love and be loved by God and to become a mother of many souls spiritually. But these latter things she cannot see clearly because they are spiritual and super-natural. Sometimes they may appear very unreal to her as in times of greater darkness of soul or discouragement. The remedy in such a conflict is, of course, to use her will to apply the principles of faith to her life in its con-crete circumstances. She needs to remember that super-natural goods are of more worth. ~than natural ones, that goods are not to be evaluated only as they bear on this life, but in the light of eternity. It is in this way that the religious can preserve and deepen her basic spirit of dedi-cation to God. And in the process her faith will deepen enabling her to see the goods she seeks as all the more desirable and rewarding. The sting of sacrifice may always remain because natural inclinations always remain with us as long as we are in this world. But as faith grows, even the sacrifice can become a source of deep joy and peace. Christian tradition is full of evidence of this fact. A case in point is the love poems of St. John of the Cross. The themes of suffering and love are so intermingled in these poems as to be almost indistinguishable. The follow-ing verse is given as an example: 4- Womat~'$ Fulfillment VOLUME 21, 1962 ÷ ÷ olumban Browning~ .P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 24 0 cautery most tenderl O gash that is my guerdonl O gentle handl O touch how softly thrillingl Eternal life you render, Raise of all debts the burden And change my death to life, even while killingl (Poems of St. John of the Gross, translated by Roy Campbell, Penguin edition, p. 59) Sublimation in Practice A religious can easily understand that the principles stated above are true. She finds it easy to see that ideally the religious should find fulfillment through the sublima-tion of all that ig good in her womanly nature to higher goals. She has no difficulty either in seeing that there can be an amount of difficulty in actual practice. This comes from the fact that she is seeking goods that are seen only through faith while all around her she can see attainable goals of the human order that appeal to her. But because the transfer from theory to practice is not always easy, let us attempt to spell out a little more in detail what a reli-gious can do to help herself attain the goal for which she has sacrificed so much. As in all things else, so here, the proper attitude of mind is important. What a sister thinks about her way of life will determine in great part how successfully she lives it. And the attitude of mind that is so important here is that of faith. A faith that merely recognizes the principles stated above is not enough. A living spirit of faith has to be developed and deepened. Without this, the religious can never really attain what she is seeking. But when her faith is strong to the point of being an habitual attitude of mind, she will find in it the motives for living her life positively and happily. Regarding the need for and the role of faith in the consecrated woman, Father Perrin, O,P. says in his excellent little book, Virginity: By her physical constitution, also, and by her sensitiveness, woman is subject to variability and instability. Faith endows her with the stability of being supported by Him Who is the Savior and who changeth not. She is dependent upon Him who is peace both quieting and fulfilling. In feminine virginity the abundance and vigor of faith are more evident for more special reasons. It follows from St. Paul's words: "The head of the woman is the man" that unless she wishes to be a truncated being, a woman without a husband on earth must have Christ as her head (J. M. Perrin, O.P., Virginity [Westminister: Newman, 1955], p. 96). Guided by a spirit of faith, the sister must keep the deep conviction of the supremacy of the supernatural over the natural, of the eternal over the temporal. This means practically in her case that she is pursuing supernatural and eternal goods while the married woman is seeking what are more immediately natural and tem-poral goods. This does not mean to imply, of course, that the married woman is seeking only natural goods but merely that her immediate goals are natural and tem-poral. True, the married woman's, lqve for her husband will remain in heaven and be, a,;s0urce'o[ joy foi-,;he~ But it will be completely overshadowed by her love for God, The natural goods of marriage, which are the ones the re-ligious gives up when she enters religion, are primarily goods of this world. By contrast, the things that the re-ligious seeks are primarily eternal, Her grasp of them here on earth remains very limited but her faith will tell her that they are an anticipation of the union with God that is eternal in heaven, A religious needs a strong and persevering conviction of faith on this point or else she will begin to think too much of the things she has given up and that inevitably brings conflict. This same spirit of faith will show the religious ever more clearly the. necessity and the joy of loving Christ with all her heart. We have stated that love is woman's most characteristic virtue and that her love is something that she must give in some way. Pius XII tells us how the religious is to give her love: Certainly it is the love of Christ that ~arges a virgin to retire behind convent wails and remain there all her life in order to contemplate and love the heavenly Spouse more easily and without hindrance; certainly it is the same love that strongly inspires her to spend her life and strength in works of mercy for the sake of her neighbor (Sacra virginitas, NCWC edition, n. 39). The religious must also remember that since love always contains an element of suffering, this must necessarily be so in her life. In fact, this is all the more certain to be present in her life from the very fact that Christ is her Spouse. Regarding this Father Perrin says: Virginity, in sum, is too closely united with Christ, too near His tastes, too aware of what the service of redemption requires not to carry a profound imprint of the Cross. The union with Christ itself, undoubtedly, is enough to enable the virgin to participate in the mortification of Jesus Christ . The willing-ness of virginity for the mystical union will set the sign of the Cross on the whole life, something necessary to remember in order to understand many of the pages of hagiography at their just value (Perrin, op. cit., p. 103). ÷ Could it be that the difficulty that some meet with in ÷ their efforts at sublimation comes principally from their ÷ failure to grasp in a practical way the need for suffering Woman's in the giving of their love? These would do well to recall t~ullltlraent the many ways in which a mother suffers in the giving of her love and in the full implications of her motherhood. It may unquestionably be said that to the degree that VOLUME 21, 1962 25 + + Columban Browning, C~P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 26 the religious grows in the personal love for our Lord, to the same degree will she attain the higher fulfillment she seeks: "Christian virginity is devised for love as the lungs are devised for air" (Perrin, op. cit., p. 99). But when we say~ this, it is important to remember that the love we refer to is not the predominantly emotional feeling that is some-times called love. This type of love may have a great part in leading a young woman into marriage, but even there, it is not enough for happiness in marriage. The religious, too, may sometimes experience something of this feeling but it is not the love that can and must nourish her life. That love is a higher supernatural love that can be entirely independent of any feeling and that is far more enduring and rewarding. It is a love, in other words, that cannot be gauged by how one reacts to things on a given day but by perseverance in self-giving. After all that we have said, must we conclude that the religious woman must free herself from all those qualities of love that we think of as precisely human and womanly? By no means. It is upon her human womanly qualities that these supernatural qualities are based. For all the supernatural faith and love that must animate her, the religious must still remain thoroughly human in the best sense of the word. All that is good in her nature must be developed and used for the glory of God and the good of others. She must use the warmth of her human love es-pecially in her efforts to win others to God and in her dealings with her fellow religious. But at the same time she must remember that this human love has been dedi-cated to God to serve a higher supernatural end. That such an ideal is possible of attainment is clear from the following words of Pius XII: Chastity and virginity (which imply also the inner renuncia-tion of all sensual affection) do not estrange souls from this world. They rather awaken and deepen the energies needed for wider and higher offices beyond the limit of individual families. Today there are many teaching and nursing sisters who, in the best sense of the word, are nearer to life than the average person in the world (Pius XII, Apostolic Exhortation to the Interna-tional Congress o[ Nuns Devoted to the Teaching of Girls, Sept. 13, 1951). The religious has ever within her reach all the means to foster this spirit of faith and love that will enable her to find fulfillment. The sacraments, prayer, spiritual reading, and other spiritual exercises enter daily into the life of a religious. Nourishing herself faithfully at these sources of grace, she can daily strengthen her faith and deepen her love. And as she comes to live more on the supernatural level, she will tend to think less of the na-tural joys she has given up in terms of sacrifice. She will rather think of them as a small price to pay for the deep happiness she finds. Her craving to bestow her love will find its deepest fulfillment in loving God and his children. Her desire to be loved will come to rest in the calm as-surance that God's love for her is constant and unchang-ing. Her motherly instinct will find its fullest outlet as she sees herself as the mother" of~many souls spiritually. An amount of struggle may still remain for the simple reason that she will always retain her basic natural orien-tation. But perseverance will bring to the religious a ful-fillment known only to the woman who has surrendered her womanhood in its entirety to God. ÷ ÷ ÷ Woman's Fulfillment VOLUME 21, 1962 MOTHER MARY ANTHONY Cornelia Connelly and the Spiri of Suffering Obedience Mother MaryAn-thony, S.H.C.J. teaches English at Rosemont College, Rosemont, Pennsyl-vania. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Cornelia Connelly,1 who founded the Society of the Holy Child Jesus (S.H.C.J.) in England in 1846, saw her work spread to America in 1862 when the first foundation was made in Pennsylvania. Today, a hundred years later, the Society has twenty-eight houses in this country. On the occasion of the hundredth anniversary of the Society in this country, this article is offered as a slight memorial to her founder. The heritage of any religious family is a living tradi-tion distinctive in starting point and attitude (an area hard to define), less so in means, toward a goal recogniz-able in generally accepted terms. The initial channeling is traced by the instrument God has chosen and guided first to discern, then to execute a pattern which against the ground of particular time and circumstance will manifest in new detail God's plan for "filling up what is wanting in the sufferings of Christ." Uniqueness resides in the individuality of the instrument, the religious" founder, and in his or her perception of the role of the new insti-tute within the larger grouping that is the Church. This perception, however it may communicate itself person-to-person from the founder to the ever widening circle of disciples, is ultimately formulated in the rule of the con-gregation where the solemn ratification of Mother Church safeguards it from distortion. But the sense of mission, of the public life, as it were, of the fully integrated society presupposes a deep interior-ity, a known way to God that constitutes the individual 1 This article has been approved for publication by the Reverend Desmond McCarthy, promoter of the faith, Diocese of S6uthwark, England. spirituality o[ its members. Personal sanctification and the salvation of souls are the twin goals of religious pro-fession, and the former is the matrix. In what concerns the intimate relations of the soul with God the greatest delicacy is only fitting. Prescriptive norms as such can point the path, then set the soul free to follow '~the draw-ing of that Love and the voice of that Calling." Lived example best helps the hesitant. The working out of the unit figure in the design, seen as God .sees it harmonious and whole, is learned indeed by heart, by loving study of the actual steps to perfection of the one who first lived the teachings cherished now by a growing spiritual family. Cornelia Connelly (1809-1879), foundress of. the So-ciety of the Holy Child Jesus, gives her children just such guidance--a rnle distilled from praye.rful experience and tried in the fire of the unitive life amidst the demands of the teaching apostolate. To her words then for definitive statement, to her life for burning confirmation. And in both the same pattern 'is discernible--love, suffering, obe-dience (conformity to God's will). These come through consistently as motive, means, and end. According to the end and. spirit, of our special, vocatlon,. mysteries of the most subhme teaching are to be found ~n the humble and hidden life of the Holy Child Jesus, in which God manifests in a most wonderful manner the .treasures of His Mercy and of His boundless Love. In that Divine Child, en-closed for nine months in the womb of His Virgin Mother, born in a stable, exposed to suffering and poverty, fleeing into Egypt, hidden and labouring in a humble workshop, is found our Divine Master, our Model and our Spouse; and from the living wells of His perfect humility, His divine charity, and His ab-solute obedience, we are to receive the spirit of the Holy Child Jesus (Rule S.H.C.J., par. 2). In this school of Divine Science, contemplating the Eternal Wisdom in the lowliness of His Humanity, we should seek to attain the knowledge of our own nothingness and misery, and that of His infinite love and mercy; we should learn to uproot the evil inclinations of our corrupt hearts, and to cultivate therein the germ of practical mortification, studying in the ex-ample of a hidden God the sweetness of suffering and contempt, that we may thus rejoice to labour and to die with Him in the constant practice of poverty, chastity, and obedience (Rule S.H.C~J., par. 3). In the rule on humility (adapted from that of St. Ig-natius), we are bidden. "with our whole strength to ac-cept and desire what Christ our Lord loved and em-braced" to the extent of wishing "to suffer insults, false witness, and injuries., through the desire of imitating our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ and of being clothed with His shame," so conforming our lives to His. The order and emphasis are seen to be constant. Love is. motive, stressed as knowledge that moves the will, not as emotion. Suffering is means, chosen because of the exam-ple of Christ, never in isolation. Obedience is end, per- + + + Cornelia Connelly VOLUME 21, 1962 29 fect union in the conformity of our will with God's. The rule on obedience reiterates this forcefully: "All should give themselves up to perfect obedience, recognising the Superior whoever she may be in the place of Christ our Lord"; "they ought to have before their eyes God, our Creator and Lord, for love of Whom they obey His crea-ture"; "All should be prompt at the voice of the Superior as at the voice of Christ our Lord"; "Let each one con-vince herself that those who live under obedience ought to let themselves be ruled and guided by Divine Providence through their Superiors"; "the Sisters should endeavour to accustom themselves to regard not her whom they obey, but rather Him for Whose sake they all obey, Christ our Lord"; "Each one attending to her own duties and office should patiently await, as from the hand of God, what-ever may be decided for her." A directive at once comprehensive and specific opens the purely ascetical Chapter 19 of the Rule: From the Hidden Life of our Divine Spouse we should learn the value we ought to set on prayer and the interior life, making them the basis of our spiritual perfection, and the fountain whence we should draw help and strength to perform in a perfect manner the duties of charity in our active life. ÷ ÷ ÷ Mother Ma~y Anthony REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 3O This focuses the attention of Mother Connelly's daughters on the phase of our Lord's life which is least immediately suggestive of suffering, but from the earliest references the association is unmistakable--"In that Divine Child. ex-posed to suffering and poverty., is found our Model"; "studying in the example of a hidden God the sweetness of suffering and contempt." Love and obedience are in-evitably linked with childhood; what insight joins to these suffering, even makes it central? A grasp perhaps of the utter emptying--exinanivit seipsum---of the Incarna-tion, most compellingly evident in the dependence of the Child. This would indeed be best appreciated by one who had known natural motherhood. We recall the image of that Pieth of February 2, 1840--C6rnelia, the grieving mother, holding the body of her two-year old son. He had died in her arms after severe burns resulting from an accident at play near a vat of boiling sugar at their Louisiana home. This incident had followed swiftly upon an oblation made in response to a sudden inspiration of grace. Over-whelmed with a sense of gratitude and wellbeing in the joy of home life and the fervor of conversion, she had cried: "O my God, if all this happiness be not for Thy glory and the good of my soul--take it from me. I make the sacrific!!" This scene prompts further consideration of Cornelia Connelly's unusual vocation and its acceptance in the spirit of the suffering obedience of Christ. Her unques-tioning docility to ecclesiastical advisors who considered genuine her husband's call to the priesthood and coun-seled the separation it entailed, was truly grounded in the faith of Abraham. She knew as no one else could know the heart of the man who wa~ h~r hfsband.' Did-she:foresee his defection? She knew as no one but a mother could how this strange step would scar her children. Even had the wise and generous provision made for them been carried out, the three living Connelly children would have had much to adjust to in their uprooted and anomalous situa-tion. Mercifully hidden from Cornelia at the time of these decisions was the mad violation of agreement by which their father removed them from her influence and suc-ceeded in estranging them from her and from their Catho-lic faith.2 There was no ram in the thicket for Cornelia. But God raised up children as from the ashes of her holocaust. Her apostolate of education was chiefly among the young, those in whom she bade her daughters "constantly strive to see Jesus," and whom they are to lead "to taste and to embrace the sweet yoke which He offers them." Her choice of the Epiphany as the day on which members of her Society renew their vows points up this double mani-festation, the recognition and response of self-oblation, and the giving of Christ in the self-giving of their lives. Nor may we overlook the relation of the first Epiphany to the slaying of the innocents. To dwell exclusively on the sacrificial aspects of Cor-nelia Connelly's life and teachings is to miss the most dis-tinctive if most paradoxical characteristic of her spirit, its joyfuI simplicity. A brief re-examination ofthe texts al-ready quoted discloses this note: "studying in the example of a hidden God the sweetness of suffering and contempt, that we may thus rejoice to labour and to die with Him," "to taste and to embrace the sweet yoke which He offers." Elsewhere in the Rule we read: "All should cultivate a spirit of joy and spiritual contentment"; "the whole coun-tenance should express cheerfulness and peace." We have here the deep and resonant gaudiurn of Ad-vent, the sense of ancient sacrifice fulfilled and hope brought to fruition, the joy of the mother in her expected child. Cornelia's womanly gift of creating a home as focal point and radiant center of natural happiness has been transformed into Mother Connelly's sure supernatural ~ The Earl o[ Shrewsbury and the Borghese family were to see to the education of the Connelly boys, Mercer (already at Stonyhurst) and Frank when old enough. The daughter, Adeline, was to remain with her mother. Pierce Connelly took all three to Italy with him when he lost the lawsuit by which he hoped to regain power over Cornelia. 4- ÷ ÷ Corneliu ¢onnelly VOLUME 2~ ~962 instinct for making a religious house or noviceship ol: school a Nazareth whose inmates grow in age and grace. with liberty of spirit and loving guidance. It is less saying "no" to nature than "yes" to God. Positive joyous accept.~ ance of God's way made known through ordinary means, this is the heritage of tlie Sisters of the Holy Child. ÷ ÷ ÷ Mother Mary Anthony REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 32 CHARLES B. TRUNDLE, s.J. I, ove and Perfect Chastity God is love, wrote St. John the evangelist. Because this is true, only those who love can possess God during this life and the next. To love is therefore man's greatest necessity: so it always was and so it will always be. Love is the key to life, or better, it is life itself, A man must love if he is to have life in him; this is God's law, a law based on God's own nature and therefore universal, eternal; and necessary. God did not conceal this law from mankind; he did not leave it to chance for man to discover. He did not say: "I will let men find out for themselves the secret of enter-ing into friendship with Me. Those who stumble upon this truth and live according to it, I will reward; those who fail, I will punish." God's love could not let mankind be ignorant in a matter of such importance. The goodness of God moved Him, rather, to establish a school of love, a school almost all men would desire to enter, a school teaching lessons most men would be will-ing to learn. This divinely founded school is marriage. Without marriage, it has been said, most men and women would not achieve the degree of love of which they are capable. And without marriage few children would re-ceive the love which is essential not only for their well-being but even for their continued existence. What kind of love is learned in the school of marriage? It is the love that typifies the mature adult; namely, a love of someone else for his sake, not for one's own. It is the love that characterizes God Himself who loves not that He may receive but that He may give. On the human level perhaps the purest expression of this love is that of a parent for his child. It is this kind of love which is man's best preparation for heaven, for it makes man most like God. It is certain that such a high degree of unselfish love is not to be reached without a long training; accordingly, ÷ ÷ ÷ Charles B. Trundle, S.J. teaches religion at the University of Scranton, Scranton 10, Pennsylvania. VOLUME 21, 1962 Ch~r/~s B. Trund/~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS God has' established some preparatory stages through which human beings normally pass. First, there is the complete self-love of the infant. This is good and a part of God's plan. The baby is just getting his foothold on earth; if he did not make known his hunger, his discom-fort, his needs by day and night, his very existence might be threatened. Soon.the child's love breaks the bonds of self and begins to include an ever widening field of persons: his parents, his brothers and sisters, the neighbors, his classmates, the members of his "gang," and after a brief period of aver-sion the opposite sex. There are, however--and this is to be expected---varying amounts of self-love in all these relationships. Some of them are heavily freighted with a love of gratitude; that is, the love is based on what the other has done or can do for the youth rather than for the other person's worth in himself. In the usual course of events, with the development of sexual maturity in all areas (emotional, intellectual, and spiritual as well as physical), one falls in love with a particular member of the other sex. Normally this love culminates in the establishment of a permanent relation-ship between the two, the state that we call marriage. The preliminary steps have been taken and the two now begin (if their schooling is to be successful) to live the profession vowed at the wedding, to love the other more than self. The couple is happy to express their inner union in a new way by becoming physically one (a unity which God selected as a fitting symbol of the union of Christ and His Church). The pair may be content with this new growth in love, but God has even further plans for them. Nor-mally, he blesses their bodily union with an extension of their love for each other: a new life, their child, is con-ceived and born. Almost without choosing it, the father and the mother are now led to new heights 6f unselfish love. Economies are made, painfully perhaps, but basically in a willing manner, in the areas of recreation, clothing, food, and so forth. Time schedules are altered to fit in with the needs of the newcomer. It may seem, in fact, that one's whole life is revolutionized by the arrival of the infant son or daughter. For the first time, perhaps, many parents will come to know what it means to love another without thought for oneself. An even further development of love is possible, how-ever. The parents' interests and concerns widen con-stantly with the growth of their children. They become attentive to the educational opportunities of their com-munity; they may get deeply involved in the scouts, in Little League baseball, taking on the role of coach or den mother and so forth. Decent literature, safety patrols, medical advances are important to them, as are a hundred other areas touching their child's life. Going along with all this is usually a widening of the heart, a breaking down of old confining walls to extend the limits of love to more and more of God's children. The father who has learned his iessons well in.the school of love can sympathize deeply with other parents who may lose their sons and daughters in a dreadful fire; he can feel for other families who are burdened by poverty, poor health, or other trials. He will wish to help them, if he can, by contributing of his own time and money. Wider and wider his heart becomes until it is much more like the heart of God; until it becomes perfect as his Father's who makes the sun to shine upon both just and unjust and the rain to fall upon the fields of both sinner and saint. Not all are willing, of course, to learn in the school of love; some rebel against its teacher, fail miserably at its lessons. Whatever the cause of this failure may be (very often, perhaps, because someone failed the learner at an earlier stage), God does not wish it to be so. There is nothing new in what has been said up to this point. What bears highlighting is this: the role and pur-pose of sex on the path to love which is traveled by the ordinary man and woman. If neither sex offered the other deeply satisfying intellectual, spiritual, and emotional completion, how few there would be who would enter the married state with its permanent obligations and bur-dens. If there were no physical attraction between male and female, how few couples would be herioc or unselfish enough to bring children into this troubled world! The divine strategy, then, should be noted well. God places in mankind strong appetites, powerful desires which win his heart and encourage his mind and will to make such com-mitments as they would never make by themselves. God does not intend marriage as an end in itself, therefore, but rather as a means to an end; that is to say, as a setting or school in which most men and women best learn how to love. This is one reason why every marriage, whether its participants are aware of it or not, possesses great dignity in the eyes of God. If the married state is dear to God because it can help man become more God-like, the state of consecrated chastity is far more precious to Him. And for this reason: the religious professes to begin his life where the married may be said to end his. By making the three vows of poverty, obedience, and chastity the religious cuts him-self off from the great obstacles to universal love. He enters a religious community so that he may be able to devote himself more completely to the works of love. He sacrifices the privilege of having his own family so that"he ÷ ÷ Love and Perfect Chastity VOLUME 21, 1962 Charles B. Trundle REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS may be a father, a brother, a sister, or a mother to all. He will never meet or serve all people, of course, but he does pray for all and he does make himself free and well-disposed to receive wholeheartedly anyone God may send to him in the course of his apostolic life. Freed from the duty and privilege of loving exclusively one husband or wife and six or a dozen children, he professes to give his love to every soul as if it alone were his only concern. Needless to say, some religious fail .in their own school of love and most of them must work for years to fulfill the ambitious goal they chose with God's grace at the time of their first vows. Be that as it may, the religious life in itself is aimed more directly at loving and serving God and all mankind, and this is one reason for its greater dignity in the eyes of both God and man. Since the young religious bypasses marriage in order to place himself further along the.road to God, he has no need for the God-designed means that lead to the married state; namely, sex. Nevertheless, he possesses it. God does not usually work miracles; he does not tamper with or mutilate His creatures. Accordingly, the sexual faculties (spiritual, intellectual, emotional, and physical) may be expected to be operative in the religious as in any other person of comparable age, education, background, and so on. As a matter of fact, because of a religious' greater sen-sitivity to beauty, generosity, and goodness, these faculties may be even more active than in his counterpart in the world. No religious may expect, therefore, to escape the strongly appealing call of marriage and of all the legiti-mate activities that comprise it. The responsibility for this is not his, but God's. For it was He who designed the faculties and it was His wisdom which added the pleasure to their use so that man would be led willingly to the grand purposes God had in mind for him. This attrac-tion, then; may be expected as a normal experience for most people; it is part of God's general plan for the hu-man race. It is unfortunate that some religious do not have a wholesome attitude ~regarding this very important area of life. One hears the complaint from those tempted; "But all this is so incompatible with my state in lifel" It is only one small, false step to that most disco.uraging conclusion: "Therefore, I am not a good relig!ous." How much more realistic and better would it be to say: "How important it must be to lovel Here is God, remind-ing me through faculties He designed for this very pur-pose that I must be sure to love if I am to have any part with Him. If others need this reminder, how much more do I, for love is. my chosen profession." Better still, he may even voice these thoughts as a prayer: "Dear God, I thank You for this reminder of the necessity of love in every life. But You Yourself have in-vited me to love in a higher and more Christlike way. Give me the grace, please, to carry off my gift to You suc-cessfully and without tension, worry, or fear. Never for-get, Lord, that it is Your doin~ ~h~it I f~el~th~ :appeal of Your school of love in the world; it is Your doing, too, that I have left the world to love You more. You have placed me between the two: I know that You will pro-vide." 4. 4" 4. Love and Peryect Chastity VOLUME 21, 1962 37 PHILIP C. ROND, M.D. Early Recognition of Emotional Illness Dr. Rond, 1500 W. Third Avenue, Co-lumbus 12, Ohio, is Chairman of the Section of Psychia-try at Mr. Carmel Hospital, Colum-bus, Ohio. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS For many--too manymyears there existed the notion that there was no need to be concerned with mental illness in religious because it was extremely rare. Then, too, prayer and devotion were considered a panacea for emo-tional ills such as worry, depression, and so forth; no one needed special medico-psychological help if he or she would just pray fervently. So, besides denial, devotion was prescribed by non-medical persons as a substitute prescrip-tion for medico-psychological help, in order to preserve our religious resources as intact as possible for the higher calling and services they provide. The Medical Corps of the military has the objective "to maintain the fighting strength" using the best 'available techniques. This motto could be modified for religious, "to maintain the devotional strength" using the.best avail-able techniques. This latter would include early recogni-tion of emotional troubles and/or the need for specialized help, from non-medical religious superiors and personnel, and psychiatry. Religious are men and women from all socio-economic backgrounds who carry with them into their spiritual lives their own personality traits, molded by their experiences prior to entering the religious community. Because of these features they may at one time or another develop emotional conflicts with or without associated physical complaints requiring medico-social-psychological aid. First aid could come from within the community, from those trained to handle these conditions. Later, but not too late, .outside professional help should be obtained, especially while the religious is still at his or her daily duties. The needed professional medico-psychological help for the concomitants of their tensions can relieve them of the suffering which makes them pQor community associates and inefficient attendants to their religious duties. The early signals of emotional distress can be put into two main categories: namely, those of habit pattern (be-havior) disturbances, and of physical (bodily) disturbances. The early recognition of these signals depends upon the open-minded, unprejudiced acceptance of emotional prob-lems as specific, actual entities by those in authority in religious communities. So, whileywe d~s~ribe sigfig:' for Which to watch, we are trusting that those who should be alert are not denying the importance of being attentive to them. Dividing the early symptoms into two categories does not exclude the possibility of overlapping of these symptoms. However, if there is alertness to signals from one or the other of these two areas, the sharper will be the perception of significant clues. First, regarding symptoms in the behavior category area, these are based upon knowledge of the individual prior to the devolopment of the changes. Every good leader knows his or her personnel well enough to have such a baseline of reference. The moving of disturbed personnel without the transmission of sufficient personality information puts the receiving superior in the unfortunate position of not having a baseline of normality from which to evaluate, and often precludes early proper action in a given case. Unprejudiced personality assessments should accompany every normal transferee. Disturbed personnel should be moved only with considerable planning in which the in-dividual's needs take precedence over the superior's or the community's needs. Knowing individuals' basic behaviorisms or habit pat-terns, we can proceed to compare them with themselves (not ourselves or others) periodically, casually, thought-fully. The very early signals are almost too numerous to mention but consist of such things as the development of a persistent inability to arise easily at the appointed time or go to bed and to sleep at the appointed hour; a change in eating habits, in appetite; a restlessness, a diminution in attention span; irritability, fussiness; nervousness at devo-tions; inability to perform the usual duties assigned; de-velopment of nervous habits such as eye twitching, fore-head wrinkling, na~al sniffing, head jerking, foot tapping, leg rocking; withdrawing, overaggressiveness, moodiness, silliness, and so forth. In the early stages help is almost 100% effective in stop-ping the progress of the disorder and preventing it from going on to a serious condition. At this point the relief may come from discussing matters with a wise superior. Early referral for professional guidance, diagnosis, and advice, can still keep the role of the therapist in the com-munity, with the superior, or his or her appointed rep-resentatives, with the psychiatrist acting only in the con-sultant role. These early behavioral changes are the result of an individual's efforts to deal with an anxiety that is Emotional Illness VOLUMI~ 21~ 1962 Philip . RoncI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 40 new or too intense, or accumulative from a number of factors uniting with a crescendo effect. The new behav-iorisms may not necessarily be bad in themselves but they indicate a serious conflict situation which, while un-healthy, is often not so deeply fixated as to require in-tensive short or long term psychotherapy, removal from the current setting for therapeutic attention, or any medicine. An ounce of prevention---early recognition-- may make it possible to provide help from within the community. It is to be anticipated that early recognition of signifi-cant behavior changes will improve, as acceptance of them as meaningful is well understood in the community. There are those who are referred to as having always been a little different. However, there is always a point where it should not be accepted without special consideration. Then there are those about whom it is said, "They were 'so normal,' we just couldn't believe it." In the first instance delay with help may occur because "it's expected" behavior. In the second case people may not believe their eyes, until the behavior becomes so bizarre or unacceptable that action must be taken. If we will look on the early behavioral and/ or physical symptoms as ways of asking for help we can justify an earlier move to assist. This way of asking for help results from the fact that the symptoms, a resolution arrived at quite automatically, are quite indifferent to the pressures of social mores. They are admissible because they operate so smoothly within the ego function as not to have to be denied or rejected. Many neurotics are probably happy for the development of a physical symptom be-cause this offers them a reason (acceptable) to seek medical aid. Purely psychological symptoms do not warrant seek-ing help for many because of the social stigma attached even by intelligent people. The second category of body signals or disturbances can and do involve all the bod~, systems and organs, heart, lungs, muscles, bones and joints, excretory system, and sensory system. The specific body complaints are, like the behavioral ones, too numerous to mention, The social-emotional etiology of them is the item to be stressed. Too often insistence by the individual, and/or the superior, that the physical complaint has a structural origin which will be found, has delayed recovery, prolonged incapacity and led to many lost hours of fervent, undistracted devo-tion the world requires so badly. Early medical evaluation is very important for the individual and for eliminating lost devotional hours. The body signals, as the behavior signals, are recognized by their newness in the individual, their lack of responsive-ness to the usual medical procedures, their intensity, and often a bizarre quality in the complaint or in the relating of it; by their association or tie-in with a gradually built up source of emotional tension which reaches a peak, or the sudden development of an emotional charge which has overwhelmed the personality defenses. The signals may be recognized by anyone. Those especial!y close to the situation should be respected When the~ report" shch ob-servations to their superiors who are a little more removed from the case. Early recognition usually implies quick recovery. Better to have pursued a false early signal with a medico-psycho-logical checkup which proves, negative than to have de-layed and produced a medico-psychological cripple with associated impaired devotional capabilities. As the supe-rior and his or her staff develop a competency in counsel-ing, one would expect much relief from the tension effects for the human individual in the religious life and com-munity living. Then the early recognition of signals of emotional turmoil will mean even better results, reflected in a maintenance of a greater operational devotional strength and capacity. Early recognition of emotional dis-orders also must include spotting the person in a com-munity who, because of his or her position, may be the precipitating cause, in oneor more other individuals, of emotional crises with their behavioral and/or bodily com-plaints. The precipitators often are blind to their un-healthy faculty, but many, with help, can see what they do. If insight cannot be gained, removal often is as neces-sary as removal of a focus of infection in the body. In conclusion, early recognition of the signs of emo-tional illness involves co~nparison of the religious behavior and/or physical status with his or her previous behavioral habits and physical state. This may be done by peers or superiors. It requires an open-mindedness about such con-ditions being possible and acceptable and treatable ill-nesses. The treatment of such conditions will vary depending upon the intensity of the distnrbance and the facilities and capabilities of those in the community. Referral for minor emotional problems to the psychiatrist will diminish as the skills in the community to handle them develop. But until such trained personnel are available within the re-ligious community early referral for medico-psychological help should be too early rather than too late. Emotional Illness VOLUME 21, lq62 41 JAMES MICHAEL LEE Notes Toward Lay Spirituality 4. 4. .I. Dr. Lee, 217 Wash- ~ngton Street, Hart-ford 6, Connecticut, ~s a member of thi~ faculty of St. Joseph College, West Hart-ford, Connecticut. "~EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 42 Like every practicing lay Catholic the world over, I went to Mass last Sunday. Nothing unusual about that. And there was nothing unusual about the sermon either. The preacher gave rather clear instructions on how the layman interested in saving his soul should act in the world. He recalled the story of Moses and the Edomites (Num 20: 14-21). The great Israelite leader wished to pass through the land of Edom en route to the Promised Land. He therefore sent a message to the Edomite King saying: "Kindly let us pass through your country. We will not cross any fields or vineyards, or drink any well water, but will go straight along the royal road without turning to the right or to the left until we have passed through your territory." The priest then told us that this passage should serve as the rule of life for all Catholics. Laymen should pass directly on the royal road to heaven and should nei-ther look around at the world nor enjoy its pleasures. Like many a practicing. Catholic the world over, I did some spiritual reading last Sunday. Nothing unusual about that. And there was nothing unusual about the con-tent of the book either. The spiritual writer exhorted his readers to steel themselves against the things of this world so that they may attain glory in the next. He warned that Christians can grow closer to God only by flying directly to Him, and that this flight would be made impossible if we concern ourselves with earthly things. This is standard spiritual fare, and Catholic lay people have been and still are subjected to it from pulpit and page. This approach views the spiritual life as a system of defenses against a hostile world which is literally hell-bent on our destruction. The higher we advance in the spiritual life, the more sturdy will be our defenses. If only the world could be eliminated, then would we attain God! But it is obvious that we cannot eliminate the world as it exists out-side of ourselves. We can make repeated acts of the will saying, "World, cease to existI' but the stubborn world re-mains despite our strongest will acts. The only other course of action, therefore, is to eliminate the world as it exists within ourselves. This can be accomplished by con-stantly directing our thoughts away from the world and focusing our attention on a~n0n~orldly reality, such as God as He is in heaven. In this way the world.will cease to become a part of us, and', if we are vigilant and steadfast, we will attain a state of otherworldliness. This approach to lay spirituality has at least four major defects, any one of which is sufficient to cast serious doubts on its validity as a means of attaining perfection. These four include psychological unsoundness, existential un-soundness, unsuitability, and lack of historical basis. Cer- .tainly this almost exclusively negativistic approach does violence to our humanity. We cannot escape our meta-physical situation. We were made to see, to touch, to hear. Without these our mind would wither, dry up. Over and over again St. Thomas reiterates the necessity of contact with the world outside of us if we are to come to an aware-ness of ourselves. Indeed we know ourselves precisely by knowing others. Our minds and senses were given to us not to negate or deny the real, but rather, as Ghrist did, to draw all things to ourselves and thus to God Man has a double task, namely to enrich himself by expanding him-self so as to take in all reality, and to enrich reality by re-deeming it. All baptized Catholics are other Christs, and as such it is their task to share with Him in the redemption of all things. Man confronts reality as a co-redeemer, as Mouroux has observed. Just as the grass became a bit greener because Christ walked the earth~ so it should be-come greener still because we have walked the earth. ality not only has a duty to us, but we also have a duty to reality. This reciprocal obligation and enrichment cannot be fulfilled by shutting the world out, but rather by letting it flood in and inebriate us. "To be a Christian is to carry the whole world in your heart," said Zundel rightly. The liturgy is an excellent example of how the Church uses the senses to bring the outside world into the wor-shiper, to fill him to the bursting point with sensations of every sort. The beautiful vestments, the altar with its tabernacle and linens, the movement of the ministers all fill the worshiper with visual delight. Gorgeous singing, whether pain chant or polyphony, fills the room with its resonance and melody while the powerfully fragrant smell of the incense wafts about and clings tenaciously, to both building and nostrils. The Church opens to us the beauty of God's world, so that we may fill ourselves to satiety. Ought we not, then, open ourselves to the world? This exclusively negativistic approach to lay spiritual living is also unsound from an existential point of view. Lay Spirituality VOLUME 21, 1962 43 lames M. Lee R~V|EW FOR RELIGIOUS 44 Did not God'create the world? If He did, if He really did, and if creation is continuous and ongoing as the theolo-gians .say, then Godis somehow intimately in that world. Every cause is somehow in its effect. God is in the world more than just by power, just as the composer is in his symphony more than just by his creation of it. This is not pantheism, but rather a realization of the deep .bond be-tween God and His world. Certain of the Greek Fathers were very conscious of God's intimacy in and with the world. All things sing with God, to paraphrase Aristotle. The world is not evil; it is worldliness that is evil. World-liness is a psychological state of man's mind about the world; it is an inordinate, disproportionate love of the world. The world, God's world, cannot be blamed for its misuse in man's mind. God has given us the world so that by it we may return to Him--not in spite of it, but pre-cisely through it. Indeed it can be said that without the world we cannot approach God except by infused con-templation, which is granted only to a very few. If the world were so e,~il, then why will God restore it to man after the resurrection of the body? The world, is man's natural environment. I~ he but lets it be, it can become his supernatural environment also. But for this to come to pass he must look at the worl, d with the eyes of Christ, not with the eyes of Jansenius. The work of that great French Jesuit of this century, Teilhard de Chardin, has done much to give Catholics 'a proper vision of the world. By placing Christ squarely in matter, Chardin has effected a revolution in the spiritual life and in so doing has made the most profound theologi-cal advance Of the century. Chardin did not say that Christ was matter, but rather that He permeated matter. Conse-quently the world deserves our love and respect for the God-soaked reality it is. Man can accept the world, add to it by his co-redemptive faculty or detract from it by giving it.attributes it does not possess. The latter is worldlinessi Strangely, we take away from the dignity of the world when we add to it that which it does not possess. The Chardinian revolution bids us face the magnificent world for what it really is, not run away from it and call this shrinking sanctity. The exclusively negativistic approach to lay spirituality is .further defective because it is almost totally unsuitable to the layman's life in the mode and manner in which he lives it. Unlike most spiritual writers and many priestg, the layman lives completely in the world. Farmers see the beauty of the wheat fields glistening in the sun. Doctors see.the wonderful advances which science has made tb help mankind. After a day's toil, workers in offices arid factories feel the warmth of human friendship. Mathema- ticians become enraptured over the harmony of numbers. Concert audiences are enthralled over the delights of a superbly played symphony. Travellers to Europe are ec-static over the art treasures they find there. Surely they do not really believe that the world is evil and should be fled. They have seen too much of g0od~n~ss, too much.of beauty, too much of love, and yes, too much of G0d.in the world. What happens when the lay Catholic listens to a sermon or reads a book telling him to steel himself against the world? He perhaps assents (if he does not become bored) and then proceeds to act as if nothing was ever spoken or ever read. This course of action clearly indicates that he does not really believe the world is evil and to be avoided. The layman is not a spiritual schizophrenic, as he is some-times .accused, simply because.he never believed what the preacher or spiritual writer said. The result is that many words are uttered by preacher and page which are really wasted. No lay person in his right mind takes them se-riously. Father Thomas Stack, the prominent American litur-gist, complains that spiritual preaching and writing are rarely done with the layman in mind, but rather are in-tended for people who live in some ideal world. The lay-man knows the goodness of the world by practical contact and resists attempts by speculators who tell him that what he sees is an illusion. What is needed is spiritual teaching for the layman. The fourth major defect in an exclusively negativistic approach is that those great figures of Christianity who lived in the world just simply did not believe it, judging by their words and deeds. Christ did not walk through the fields and vineyards on the royal road, neither looking to the right nor to the left. Rather He went right into the midst of the fields and gathered there the fruit of the wheat; and He went into the midst of the vineyard and pressed the juice of the grape. And He blessed both, and gave the world Himself foreverl He left us a sign, not only that we might know Him, but that we might know the proper way to deal with the world. What can be more rep-resentative of the world than bread and wine? Christ did not steel Himself against the world, or reject it; He blessed it and made it divine. The world became Christl One of Christ's greatest servants, St. Francis of Assisi, was a man who knew how to confront the world. He did not despise it, or curse it, or steel himself against it. He opened his soul to it, let it pour in upon his soul, for he knew that simultaneously there flowed in God. St. Francis knew the Christ-like way of confronting a bird, or a blade of grass, or the ocean. In his extraordinarily beautiful and moving Canticle of Brother Sun, St. Francis points the way Lay Spirituality VOLUME 21j 1962 45 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 46 toward proper confrontation of man to world. In this Can-ticle, the Saint takes the various realities of the world, the sun, the moon, the wind, fire, and so forth, and thanks God for what these realities are in themselves. Is St. Francis here denying the relation of God to matter, or holding that God is not deeply imbedded in the world? A close analysis of the Canticle reveals precisely the opposite. The first verse, on the other hand, speaks of the complete ineffa-bility of God; indeed St. Francis here notes that no man is worthy even to mention God. And then in the next verse the holy man of Assisi launches immediately into his praises of the world. Is there a lacuna in the Canticle? Nol St. Francis realized that reality is a paradox, that while no man could mention God, yet every man could mention Him at every moment of his life by properly confronting that world which He made and in which He was deeply imbedded. We do not live in a divided world, with an. abyss separating the natural and supernatural. Rather we live in one world where the natural and the supernatural interpenetrate each other in a fused reality. It was this way before the Fall; and after the Fall, the intense heat of Christ's love as manifested in His life and death acted as a tremendous fusion force to bring about once again the interwoven universe. St. Francis saw all this. We should profit from his life and teaching. Is this article a condemnation of the via negativa, the negative way to spiritual perfection? Certainly notl Rather it is a condemnation of an exclusively negative approach. No one can deny that Christ; or St. Francis, or any other saint for that mater employed the via negativa. However, this article attempts to show that the via positiva, the posi-tive way, is not only an important and necessary avenue to spiritual perfection, but is in fact more suited to lay spirituality than the negative way. It is not a case of a mutually exclusive either/or, but rather of an inclusive both/and. In their deepest existential reality the via nega-tiva and the via positiva merge and become one. The lay-man must use both ways, but for him the primacy belongs to the positive way. Spiritual writers and preachers should remember this when preparing their messages to the faith-ful. Undoubtedly one of the greatest Pontiffs of modern times was Pope Pius XII. Those of us who met him could not fail but to be profoundly struck by his deep sanctity. When this holy man of God lay dying, he asked for music to be played for him. He obviously felt that in his last mo-ments on earth, music would draw him closer tothe God he had served so well throughout his lifetime. What type of music did the saintly Pope ask for in his last hour? Gre- gorian chant? Spiritual motets? Nol He requested that Bee-thoven's First Symphony be played. Here was a deeply devout man, believed by many to be in heaven now, who in those crucial moments just before death, saw God more in "secular" reality than in professedly spiritual !reality. Here was the via positiva iri ~ictionl, ÷ ÷ ÷ Lay Sp~rituaUty VOLUME 21, 1962 R. F. SMITH, s.j. Survey of Roman Documents R. F. Smith, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS This article will summarize the documents which ap-peared in ,4cta Apostolicae Sedis during August, 1961. All page references in the article will be to the 1961 Acta (vi 53). Three A llocutions On June 12, 1961 (pp. 495-99), Pope John XXIII ad-dressed the members of the Central Commission for the preparation of Vatican Council II on the occasion of the commission's first session. The Pope outlined the work of the commission which will consist in considering the prob-lems of the convocation of the council and in examining the preliminary drafts submitted by the other preparatory commissions of the council. His Holiness told the members of the commission that the coming council will leave art indelible mark on the history of the Church. On June 20, 1961 (pp. 499-503), the Vicar of Christ again addressed the same Central Committee, this time on the occasion of the closing of the first sessions of the corn, mission--sessions which were concerned with the member-ship of the council, procedural matters in the council, and the language of the council. The language is to be Latin, though the vernacular will be used when opportunity or necessity requires it. The Pope then proceeded to give the objectives of the council: the renewal of the holiness of the clergy; the effective instruction of the faithful in the truth:; of faith and of Christian morality; the right formation adolescents; the spread of the social apostolate; and the formation of a missionary soul in every Christian. On July 6, 1961 (pp. 503-04), the Pope addressed the members of the Commission for the Lay Apostolate for Vatican Council II. Through the commission he exhorted all the faithful to increased prayer for world peace. Miscellaneous Documents On August. 12, 1961 (pp. 525-27), His Holiness pub-lished the text of his handwritten letter constituting Amleto Cardinal Cicognani Secretary of State. On July 9, 1961 (pp. 504-06), John XXIII sent a radio message for the conclusion of the Seventh'~Na~i0nal Marlan~C0nven-tion of France held at Lisieux. He told his listeners that all Christians of whatever state of life were enveloped in the motherhood of the Blessed Virgin who does for all Chris-tians what every mother does for her child. The Pope in-sisted thatdevotion to the. Blessed Virgin is a mark of a person who is truly C~tholic. On June 20, 1961 (p. 507), the Holy Office issued a.warn-ing, telling those who. treat of Scripture to do so with pru-dence and reverence. They should be mindful o~ the teach-ings of the. fathers, of the magisterium of the Church, and of the sense of the Church. They should also be careful not to disturb the consciences of the faithful and not to violate the truths of faith. On June 26, 1961 (pp. 507-08), the Holy Office issued a decree placing on the Index Jean steinmann's La vie de Jdsus (Paris: Club des Librairies de France, 1959). On May 10, 1961 (pp. 513-16), the Sacred Congregation of Rites approved the reassumption" of the cause of BIessed Matthias Murumba, martyr~ and his twenty companion martyrs of Uganda. The martyrs died in 1886 and were beatified in 1920. On November 9, 1960 (pp. 517-20), the same congregation approved the introduction of the cause of the Servant of God, Brother Andrew (1845-1937), of the Congregation of the Holy Cross. On June 5, 1961 (p. 521), the Sacred Apostolic Peniten-tiary granted an indulgence of three years whenever a visitor to St. Peter's kisses the foot of the statue of St. Peter there and says the invocation, "St. Peter, pray for us." On June 9, 1961 (pp. 521~23), the Penitentiary approved a list of indulgences that may be gained by members of the Pontifical Work of Priestly Vocations. ÷ 4. ÷ Roman Documents VOLUME 2't', 1962 49 Viems/ Nets/ In Memoriam: Adam C. Ellis, S.]. (1889-1961) On November 25, 1961, in St. Louis, Missouri, oc-curred the death of Adam C. Ellis, S.J., one of the three co-founders of REw~w FoR RE~o~o~Js. Father Ellis was born in Buffalo, New York, entered the So-ciety of Jesus in 1905, was ordained in 1921, received his doctorate in 1926 from the Gregorian University, and for most of the rest of his life taught canon law at St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. He was the co-author of Canon Law:,4 Text and a Commentary and the translator-reviser of Religious Men and Women in Church Law and Handbook of Cere-monies. Father Ellis was a zealous worker in behalf of the religious of the United States and deserves a remembrance in their prayers and good works. May he rest in peace. 4. 4. 4, Views, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Instruction from Congregation of Religious On February 2, 1961, the Sacred Congregation of Reli+ gious directed a new document to major religious superiors entitled Instruction to the Superiors of Religious Corn.,~ munities., on the Careful Selection and Training of Candidates. An English translation of the document can be purchased for one dollar from Sister Formation Bulletin., Ottumwa Heights College, Ottumwa Heights, Iowa. Seminary Statistics for the United States The July, 1961, Seminary Newsletter of the National Catholic Educational Association gives a statistical sum.~ mary of United States seminaries for the academic year 1960-61. According to the report there are 96 American diocesan seminaries; of these 28 are major seminaries, while 49 are minor seminaries and the remaining 19 com-prise both major and minor departments. During the same period in the United States there were 295 religious house~; of formation. Of these 106 were major seminaries; 122; minor seminaries; and 67 were combination major-minor seminaries. During the same period there was a total of 23,319 candidates for the diocesan priesthood and 19,629 for the religious priesthood, giving a complete total of 42,948 candidates for the priesthood in 1960-61. One re- mark would seem in order: the 23,319 candidates for the diocesan priesthood are cared for in 95 seminaries, while the smaller number of religious candidates (19,629) are found distributed in 295 houses offormation. This would seem to indicate that clerical religious groups of the United States might well'consider a consolidatingof theii" seminary institutions by grouping the seminary institu-tions of several orders or congregations into larger units. Retreat Conferences Fifteen retreat conferences for lay persons are available either on long play records or on magnetic tape. The con-ferences are given by the Reverend Raphael C.:McCarthy, s.J., retreat director at Sacred Heart Retreat House~ Se-dalia, Colorado. Each album of the records or each copy of the tape costs ~14.95 and can be ordered from Father McCarthy at the above address. The Church in Africa Herder-Korrespondenz for August, 1961, gives statistics illustrating the growth of the Church in Africa between 1949 and 1959. In 1949 there were 11,000,000 Catholics on the continent; in 1959 this number had increased to 20,200,000, a gain of 84%. The largest percentage increase was found in West Africa where Church.membership dur-ing the decade increased 120%; North Africa had the low-est increase, 37%. In eight countries of Africa Catholics form more than one-fourth of the total population. On the other hand two countries are listed as being without Cath-olics: British Somaliland and Mauretania, both of which are entirely Mohammedan in reiigious allegiance. The Church in Spain Raz6n y Fe for March, 1961, has a statistical survey of many facets of Church life in Spain. The following points from the article may be of interest. In 1960 in Spain there were 24,504 diocesan priests and 8,319 religious priests. In the same year there were 20,583 professed men religious and 71,309 professed women religious. In the academic year 1959-60, 5,302 men applied for admittance to Spanish seminaries; of these 4,173 were accepted, the other 1,129 being rejected. The latest available statistics show that Spain has 22,628 seminarians. A survey of more than 17,000 of these showed that roughly 25% were from large cities, another 25% from small towns, and the remaining 50% from rural areas. A similar survey of seminarians on an economic basis disclosed that out of 17,053 seminarians whose backgrounds were investigated 917 were from the upper class, 8,698 fr6m the middle class, and 7,438 from the lower class. ÷ ÷ ÷ Prev~ws VOLUME 21, 1962 51 ÷ ÷ ¥iews, News, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The article also furnishes some data on the number of non-Catholics in Spain (including, therefore, Jews and Orthodox). In 1960 there were between 15,561 and 18,716 non-Catholics in Spain divided among fourteen different religious groups. The largest single group is that of the Plymouth Brethren who in 1960 counted between 4,815 and 5,615 membex;s. Missionary Bishops of the World L'Osservatore Romano oJ May 18, 1961, provides statis-tics on the number and origin of missionary bis.hops throughout the world (exclusive of missionary auxiliary bishops). As of May 15, 1961, there were 196 such bishops in Africa, 64 in the Americas, 153 in Asia, 8 in Europe, and 55 in Oceania, making a total of 476. Of these 289 were born in Europe, 54 in the Americas, 73 in Asia, 32 in Af-rica, and 28 in Oceania. The above figures do not take into account data for countries dominated by Communism. Twenty-Year Index A twenty-year index to REviEw FOR REI~e~OtJS is in preparation. The proposed index will have four parts: author-title index of articles; subject index; author-title index of book reviews; and a canon law index. It is hoped that the index will be ready by the end of 1962. New African Congregation According to International Fides Service of September 2, 1961, a new congregation of religious women was founded in December, 1960, in the diocese of Luluabourg in Africa. On August 22, 1961, the first.four members of the congregation received their habits; and a new postulant was received at the same time. The new congregation is called by the name of the Sisters of the Immaculate Heart of Mary. Guide to Meetings A recent publication of the National Catholic Educa-tional Association will prove useful to those engaged in education. Entitled Calendar of Meetings of 195 National and Educational Associations, 1961-62, it lists by date meetings that have been scheduled for the present aca-demic year. The publication is available for seventy-five cents from NCEA Research Office, 1785 Massachusetts Avenue, N.W., Washington 6, D.C. [The following answers are given by Father Joseph F. Gallen, s.J., professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland.] Shou