Suchergebnisse

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

Issue 53.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1994. ; OUS Christian Heritages and ContemporaryLiving MARCH-APRIL 1994 ¯ VOLUME 53 ¯ NUMBER 2 ¯ Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ° Fax: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ° P.O. Box 29260 ¯ Washington, DC 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1994 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. review for religious Editor David L. Fleming Associate Editors Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Canonical Counsel Editor Elizabeth McDonough OP Assistant Editors ¯ Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Advisory Board Joann Wolski Conn PhD Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Se~in Sammon FMS Susanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MARCH-APILIL 1994 ¯ VOLUME 53 ¯ NUMBER 2 contents 166 feature In the Midst of the Times: Religious Life and the Ever-Present Experience of the World John W. Padberg SJ presents three historical perspectives on religious life to aid in imagining and planning for the future. commitments 182 Vowed Witness in a Church Intent on Love 189 196 David Maria Knight suggests that religious are examples and models of that dramatic gesture which is a key element in launching anyone into passionate relationship with God. Quest for an Undivided Heart Theresa Mancuso ponders a heart focused on God in a life of consecrated chastity. Imaged Celibacy: A Reflection for Priests Brian C. Yates proposes a way of imaging that allows us to enter more freely into the reality of celibate living. challenges 200 Needed: An Ethic of Memories 208 214 222 Joanne Marie Greer suggests various ethical aspects that need to be considered when sharing memories, especially those which are a part of therapeutic counseling. ADiscipline of Self-Respect William Mockus describes the need for spiritual discipline as a function of self-respect. A Transformational Journey Annete Adams SND observes the cycle of the monarch butterfly to gain understanding about the spiritual-direction process. Community for Today and Tomorrow Janet Roesener CSJ sets forth the call and challenges for reli-gious to live a covenantal community life. 162 Review for Religious 231 238 254 263 directions Fruitfulness versus Achievement Peter G. Van Breemen SJ reflects on the distinction which we Christians need to make between achievement and the biblical notion of fruitfulness. Old Brothers and Young, Dreams and Visions Robert C. Berger FSC uses images of the Hebrew Scriptures to shed light on the action of God and the relevance of brother-hood. Just Look at the Lord Joel Giallanza CSC presents a simple and practical melding of our desire to pray and our praying from Teresa of Avila. Pray Always: John Cassian on Distractions Kenneth C. Russell applies the insights of John Cassian to help us live a life focused on God amidst the distractions of the modern world. reflections 273 Genesis Continued Mary Michael McCulla CDP poetically reflects a kind of Genesis account of woman. 278 Called to the Harvest Vera Gallagher RGS enters us into her experience of God's healing grace in people's troubled lives. 285 report U.S. Hispanic Catholics: Trends and ~7orks 1993 Kenneth G. Davis .OFMConv presents a panoramic of the year's events within the U:S. Hispanic Catholid community. departments ¯ ¯ 164 Prisms 303 Canonical Counsel: Norms for Renewal and Reflections on Its Progress 309 Book Reviews Marcb-/lpri11994 163 prisms ~edo not necessarily compliment our-selves when we compare ourselves to the first disciples of Jesus. For example, the two disciples on their way to Emmaus do not symbolize either gospel people (evange-lizers) or apostolic people (on a mission). In a way, of course, they are pilgrim people, journeying, although they are running away from Jerusalem, where their lives are meant to be centered. They know a lot about Jesus-- enough to k6ep talking about him at least between them-selves or privately with an amiable stranger. Yet what stands out in their telling of the Jesus story is their own disappointment. Disappointment may be the common cross that afflicts us followers of Jesus all the more because we like to describe ourselves as Alleluia people. These two disciples symbolize disappointment immediately after Jesus' pas-sion. During the active ministry of Jesus, a rich man with much fervor wanted to lead a holy life, but walked away from Jesus--disappointed with his kind of "Beatitude" challenge. Other disciples caused Jesus such pain by their leaving that he asked Peter and the others identified as the Twelve, "Will you leave me too?" People had left cha-grined by all this foolish talk about Jesus being the food and drink of their lives. They were unwilling to live with promise in such incarnate guise. Disappointment can certainly be a difficult cross to bear for us Christ-followers. For us present-day disciples of the one who has overcome death, it somehow seems "not right" to have to continue to face defeat, failure, and betrayal, especially from agents that speak or act in Christ's 164 Review for Religi?us name. How can we not be disappointed when the Vatican is the only agency among all the world's states which recognizes a repressive government in Haiti? How legitimate the disappoint-ment is when we face the problem of certain clerics or religious who betrayed a trust by their sexual abuse of a child! How disap-pointing for us as a community is the high percentage of failed marriages, often within our own families--marriages celebrated with all the beauty and solemn commitment of the wedding Mass! Are we ever disappointed with ourselves--after years of striving to be Little Flowers--at still feeling more like the scrubby weeds found along abandoned railroad tracks? Disappointments come in all sizes--some so big that they seem insurmountable, but others so small and daily that we suf-fer them as the necessary "colds and flu" of our spiritual life. Disappointments come at all stages of life development. Young and old and all the in-betweens face unrealized or shattered dreams, an if-only sense of things left undone, feelings of aban-donment by ones they love. Where does the event of Christ's resurrection touch most directly the practical living of our lives? I would suggest that we need to look towards our experience of disappointments. We test quickly the firmness of our faith in the resurrection by our lived response to disappointment. Among us followers who want to distance ourselves from this hierarchical church or to walk away from a disheartened priesthood or to dismiss a seemingly anachro-nistic religious life or to reject a cumbersome parish structure, we find an identity with the two disciples on their way to Emmaus. The question we face is whether we will take the time from all our talk or activity to listen to and recognize the call to believe what is central to our faith: Jesus is risen, and our response to disap-pointment need never be a time without grace, an experience without new life. The Easter e{r~nt translates into our creedal "I believe in the resurrection of the dead." But the daily disap-pointments that make us die by inches are where we all need to let our resurrection faith have.its effect. As with the two disciples on that first Easter evening, it is in our hurrying back into a dis-appointing Jerusalem--with our faith in the risen Lord--that we truly act as evangelizers arid people on mission. David L. Fleming SJ March-April 1994 165 feature JOHN W. PADBERG In the Midst of the Times: Religious Life and the Ever-Present Experience of the World The reader of these reflections by an historian will have noted at once that their title is a variation on the immediately preceding theological essay by Elizabeth Johnson csj, "Between the Times: Religious Life and the Postmodern Experience of God." That reprise is quite deliberately meant to introduce the reader to the com-plementary. intent of these remarks, in accord with the overall structure of the Religious Life Futures Project. That comprehensive, study of "the future of religious orders in the United States" included six independent ele-ments or "research units" in its work. The first five were a national survey, leadership studies, studies of caring peo-ple and of visioning groups, and a series of individual interviews. The sixth unit was to be a two-part theologi-cal/ historical monograph, of which the first part was to provide a theological framework for interpreting the data gathered in the study and this second part was to be "an historical postscript" or a set of reflections on that theo-logical essay from an historical perspective. John W. Padberg SJ is director of the Institute of Jesuit Sources in St. Louis. This article will be part of a companion book to The Future of Religious Orders in the United States: Transformation and Commitment (Praeger Publishers, 1993) by David J. Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis. His address is Institute of Jesuit Sources; 3700 West Pine Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. 166 Review for Religious The theological essay concludes saying, "For religious life in the United States it is now Advent, the most honest season of all. ¯. What is needed is vigilant patience, profound prayer, and the ability to act boldly toward that future where new forms of evan-gelical life will develop" (Johnson, p. 24).1 This essay will take off from that judgment, which is both correct and important. Advent is a new beginning, but it comes after the conclusion of the year-long liturgical season during which we first await and long for the arrival of Jesus and then in turn remember and cel-ebrate the impossibly good news that he himself is: a hidden life of long duration, the preaching of the good news in person and in word, his seeming defeat in his terrifyingly real passion and death, and then the paschal triumph. We might be tempted to think it is all just a cycle, but then the year goes on beyond the life of Jesus, like an arrow into the future, to tell us that the spreading of that news and the imparting of that life take place in the down-to-earth reality of the post-Pentecostal church which, if we stop to realize it, still lives on as our present church. And then the year begins again with another Advent. The history of the church has recorded many such Advent and subsequent varying seasons. So has the history of religious life in the church. As the theological essay notes, "the evangeli-cal following of Jesus in the church, traditionally called 'religious life,' has been incarnated in a great diversity of forms [which] have consistently emerged from the insights of individuals and groups responding to the Spirit in the crucible of cultural change" (Johnson, p. 7). If it is true that "the only reason for religious life is the experience of God" (Johnson, p. 16), and that such experi-ence is a "postmodern" one "between the times," it is true in another sense that the only way such religious life is lived is "in the midst of the times" and in the context of "the ever-present experience of the world." Hence the complementary title of this essay and the tenor of its remarks. The theological essay suggests that the emerging "under-standing of [religious] life is primarily that of persons and com-munities called to prophetic ministry embedded in a contemplative relationship to God" (Johnson, p. 12). It maintains that beneath changes in structure are changes in attitude and that underlying such changes in attitude is a postmodern experience of God. "Postmodernity is conscious of the end of progress, the limits of reason, the sad isolation of the unconnected individual, and the March-April 1994 167 Padberg ¯ In the Midst of the Times Spiritualities significantly influence the ways in which °religious congregations remain faithful to their original purposes and the ways in which they respond to human need. catastrophe that results when nature is disrespected," while wish-ing to keep from the modern era such goods as "the emphasis on human dignity and human rights and their expressions in liberty and equality. Postmodernity is awake to the egregious failures that the modern ethos has wrought. It wants to go Away-From-Here" (Johnson, p. 18). But meanwhile it is absolutely nec-essary to remember that the "Here" from which postmodernity seeks to escape still mightily influences our cur-rent life. And while the contexts of pre-sent and past are inevitably different, the reactions to past contexts might yield clues as to how we shall react to the pre-sent context. Religious life has of neces-sity existed in several such past contexts of a world changing around it. Often enough that life took on a particular character from the ways in which its members, men and women religious, looked both on change "in the midst of the times" and on the "ever-present experience of the world" around them (to quote again from the title of these present reflec-tions) and from the ways in which they judged both world and change or history. The body of this essay will deal especially with those two matters. It will, firs.t, present several such modern changes in reli-gious life in the midst of changing times, in other words, several examples from history. Secondly, it will reflect more generally on the ways in which religious life responds to change and to the experience of the world, because the nature of those responses characterizes in part the dominant spiritualities which inform either religious life in general or a particular form of that life. Such spiritualities, in turn, significantly influence the ways in which religious congregations remain faithful to their original purposes and the ways in which they respond to human need. As the executive summary of the study concludes, "fidelity to the spirit of the founder and responsiveness to critical and unmet human needs are basic to the original mission of religious com-munities" (Summary, p. 42).2 168 Review for Religious Three Times in the Midst of Change In its fifteen-hundred-year history in the Latin Church of the West, religious life has experienced upheaval more often than is realized. To look only at the modern world, such upheaval has happened in a major way three times in the last four hundred and fifty years: during the time of the Reformation (beginning in 1517), during the time of the French Revolution (beginning in 1789), and in the renewal which was asked for by the Second Vatican Council, which ended in 1965. First, the Reformation. The whole notion of religious life was rejected by the Protestant reformers. This rejection had its foun-dation in their theology, but it gained popular support because religious life had lost much of its credibility. The scandalous rep-utation of many religious congregations and their members-- especially male religious--was all too often deserved. One does not have to read Chaucer (before the Reformation) or Rabelais (dur-ing it) for examples of why that reputation was well deserved. The church documents in those years, calling for reform, are vivid enough. Over and over those calls for reform were made, and over and over again they were ignored. The effects on religious life in the lands of reform were dev-astating. In England men and women religious had already been brutally driven out of their houses. In other countries monks and nuns left their orders in droves. Even in lands that stayed Catholic, the numbers of persons entering religious life dropped drasti-cally. So bad had the reputation of religious life become that more than once during the Catholic reform it was proposed to the Holy See that all but four orders of men, and most orders of women, be suppressed. And yet, in the midst of this seemingly impossible situation, during the Catholic reform new orders and congregations arose, grew in numbers, and flourished. Older orders gradually took themselves in hand, reformed, and prospered. Why? The second major upheaval took place at the time of the French Revolution. While the religious orders in general had been far more faithful to their rule and to the furtherance of the spiritual lives of their members than at the Reformation, still many, even the most active of them, had often lost touch with the changing world around them, a world influenced in many ways by the Enlightenment. The Revolution brought chaos to the church and to religious March-April 1994 169 Padberg * In the Midst of the Times life. Europe was the home of most of the members of the church. It was the place where the administrative structures, the finan-cial resources, the educational establishments, the charitable apos-tolates, the seminaries, the religious congregations had existed for more than fifteen hundred years, all in aid of the preaching of the gospel and the celebration of the sacraments. Quite simply, the Revolution swept away most of these realities upon which the church depended and in which religious life had embodied itself. The properties from which many of the dioceses and orders drew their support were secularized by the new governments and sold to the highest bidder. (For example, Cluny, the acme of Romanesque architecture, the glory of. the Benedictine Order, the second largest church in the Christian world, was destroyed, in part by revolutionary ideology and frenzy but mostly by several good middle-class families who bought it after the state had con-fiscated it and then had it taken down, stone by stone, to be sold for their profit as building material, all in the name of the sanc-tity of private property.) Many of the religious orders were officially abolished in the lands reached by the Revolution; members of almost all of them were turned out of their houses and left to fend for themselves. In 1789, as the French Revolution began, there were some two thou-sand Benedictine establishments in Europe; by 1815 only about twenty were still functioning. In fact, of the many religious orders of men in existence before the French Revolution, only two, the Christian Brothers and the Jesuits, have ever again grown to be as large as they were before the Revolution or larger. And yet, the hundred and fifty years from the Revolution to the beginning of Vatican II were for religious congregations and orders the most unusual years in the history of the church. More new congregations were founded than in any comparable period in the history of the church. More new congregations of women were founded in that century and a half than in the whole previ-ous history of the church. The older orders grew again. More missionary congregations were founded than ever before, and more women and men went to the foreign missions. Why? To turn now to our own histories, and the third upheaval, the Second Vatican Council brought undreamt-of change to the church and to religious life. Many in the church had hoped for change, but no one could have imagined the depth and breadth of the change which did occur. This is not the place to rehearse 170 Revino for Religious those postconciliar events of the past twenty-five to thirty years. The theological essay has well noted many of the changes that took place. Perhaps, however, the quantity and especially the qual-ity of that change can be evoked by recalling ten words or phrases from Vatican II. With the two exceptions of the words "liturgy" and "revelation," none had been common in the church before the council. The other eight are: aggiornamento, collegiality, dia-logue, people of God, inculturation, religious liberty, joy and hope (gaudium et spes), and ecumenism. The realities behind those words raised expectations and produced changes which often have gone beyond either the worst fears of those who wanted no change or the best guesses of those who hoped for it. But whether we now react with dismay, delight, or doubt, many of the details, good, bad, or indifferent, of the world of the church and the world of religious life in the church of thirty to forty years ago have changed irretrievably or even vanished. In and through those changes since Vatican II religious life has been in tur-moil, as it was in the two other great Changes were not introduced from some source external to the church such as the Reformation or the Revolution, but came about internally, from the church itself'at Vatican II. modern upheavals. A very great difference, however, is that these changes were not introduced from some source external to the church such as the Reformation or the Revolution, but came about internally, from the church itself at Vatican II and from what has been truly in its proportions a paradigm shift in the church's self-understanding. The notion of "tranSformation" in the organiza-tional realm, as described in the Religious Life Futures Project, is utterly apt here for what has happened in the~ church. "It refers to qualitative, discontinuous shifts in members' shared under-standings of the organization, accompanied by changes in the organization's mission, strategy, and formal and informa| struc-tures" (Summary, pp. 9-10). In the midst of all this, religious orders and congregations were themselves directly asked by the church to review and revise their own way of life in the light of the council's teachings, in accord with their originating charism, and in adaptation to the March-April1994 1 ~1 Padberg ¯ In the Midst of the Times needs of today. In general, they have taken this request seriously and generously, often at great personal and institutional cost. They, too, have been caught up in the process of transformation. And yet, in this case, the optimistic aftermath of the two ear-lier upheavals has not occurred in the wake of Vatican II. Why? A brief response to the why asked at all three junctures will come later in this essay. The Experience of the World and of History The second major part of this essay will include some reflec-tions on the particular types of spirituality that inform the inner life and the external activities of religious orders. Again, why? Because on such various types of spirituality which inform reli-gious life in general.and specific orders in particular will depend religious life's understanding and judgment of the times in which it lives and of the world which it experiences. "Spirituality" is here understood simply as the way an individual or a group habit-ually acts in learning about and loving and serving God in accord with God's self-revelation in and through God's deeds, especially the greatest of those deeds, Jesus Christ himself. The heuristic structure used here to describe a variety of spir-itualities3 distinguishes four possible ways in which they view the world and history in the midst of a particular time and space by the responses to this question: Does a spirituality.view or not view the world and history as positive means to express itself and to practice a growing relationship to God? "World" includes not only the obvious natural, material world but also human society and institutions. "History" includes especially process, develop-ment and change. In practice, of course, no one of the four resul-tant types of response exists in its absolutely pure state, and obviously in real life they all exist in. particular sociocultural con-texts. In addition, all four types are always intermingled. Perhaps most importantly, each of them is in itself a good. To distinguish them however is, in general, useful for clarity and, in particular, for helping us to see where our contemporary religious life stands and how we might be inclined to move to the future. The first response to world and to history says no to both of them. The second says no to the world and yes to history. The third says yes to the world and no to history, and the fourth says yes to both world and history. 172 Review for Religious Particular examples may clarify these categories. The first response, a spirituality that says no to the world and no to history, might be called an apophatic spirituality, one which comes to a knowledge of God by way of negation. This is the type of spiri-tuality often and somewhat misleadingly known as mystical, for example the kind expressed through such works as The Cloud of Unknowing, or through the works of John of the Cross, or more recently through some of the writings of Thomas Merton. It is important to note that such a spirituality does not necessarily see the world as evil or history and change as meaningless. Rather, such an apophatic spirituality emphasizes that God is beyond any concepts and that the most authentic expression about God is negation of any specific image from world or history. A person goes to the love and knowledge of God through unknowing or through darkness. In our present and our immediate future, in .what the theological essay describes as "the dialectic between divine absence and presence" (Johnson, p. 23) such a spirituality and the postmodern experience of God may increasingly find sup-port in each other. A second type of spirituality finds an expression of the authen-tic not in the world but in history, that is, in change and conver-sion. In saying no to the world but yes to history, it is a prophetic type of spirituality. For example, the Old Testament prophets offer both judgments and interpretations of history. Through his radical poverty, Francis of Assisi said no to the abuse of material wealth that his world of the early 13th century was involved in; in so doing he gave to the poor a sign of hope in a God faithful to his promises. Such a prophetic spirituality is often characterized by living one or more of the gospel values to an extreme. Such a spirituality surely informed the first examples of religious life among the desert fathers and mothers of the Egyptian Thebaid. Other examples of such a prophetic spirituality, in addition to Francis and his poverty, would be early Christians spurning the world and awaiting the call of martyrdom and contemporary Christians motivated by the gospel to practice civil disobedience. Today, as the theological essay puts it, when accepted "forms are breaking down, interpretive support systems, are collapsing, rift~ with the institutional church exacerbate the darkness, [and] many members are in distress" (Johnson, p. 24), we may have a situation in which religious congregations say no to a world that is passing and say yes to a hoped-for change to a more fully gospel-inspired March-April 1994 173 Padberg ¯ In the Midst of the Times future "in the risk that God is faithful in judgment and grace" (Johnson, p. 14). ¯ Third, what might be called a "locational" or a "city of God" spirituality says yes to the world and no to history. But here the When we seek a stable world and way of living in it or when we focus on a particular community or place or on our own hearts, we localize ideal, unchanging circumstances, bringing a changeless "city of God" dimension to our spiritual lives. world may be a world. Th~ authentic is located in one special place, in a world, geographical, psychological, temporal, theological, to the exclusion of other place's, with the changeless-ness that the fulfillment of that king-dom implies; that place then becomes a reflection of the kingdom of God. For St. Benedict it was the monastery as the place in which to live out the Rule. For The Imitation of Christ it is the safety of our own hearts where "you will see the kingdom of God come into your soul." For some it is the familiar church of pre-Vatican II observances. This type of spirituality may be the most common type throughout Christian history. It has also been one of the characteristics of every other type of spirituality and a force for stability in the midst of chaos, It may be an especially inviting and understandable spiri-tuality for those who have just come through a revolution. VChen we seek a stable world and way of living in it or when we focus on a particular community or place or on our own hearts, we are highlighting a way, or place that has worked for us. As a conse-quence we localize ideal, unchanging circumstances, bringing a changeless "city of God" dimension to our spiritual lives. Finally, there is a spirituality which answers yes both to world and tb history. This can be called an apostolic spirituality. To avoid misunderstanding the term and its application to religious life, let it be~ clear that everyone, of course, even in the most con-templative order, is called in some way to apostolic endeavor, to a life committed to the spread of the kingdom of God. But not everyone is necessarily called to an apostolic spirituality, a'spiri-tuality which seeks God primarily through involvement in the world and the transformation of its history. Ideally, such an apos- 174 Review for Religious tolic spirituality sees the world and history as a locus for trans-formation and for self-transformation. Most of the orders and congregations founded since the Reformation, and especially since the beginning of the 19th century, have been inspired by the ideal of an apostolic spirituality. But because the church since the Reformation, the Enlightenment, and the French Revolution has often made quite hostile judgments of the world and of history or change, this is a difficult double stance to maintain. One can easily multiply examples of church mistrust and con-demnation of the world as a source of self-transformation. And even if we have often thought the world could be such a source of self-transformation provided it had a different history or pro-vided we managed to change it, we can easily multiply examples of church mistrust and condemnation of change as a source of self-transformation, especially if it were suggested that change should apply to religious orders and more especially to the church. The way in which to give positive answers to both world and his-tory can vary greatly. Several of the 16th- and 17th-century Catholic reform reli-gious orders of women are examples of an attempt to do so. Mary Ward had a vision of such a spirituality for her Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary and attempted to put it into practice. But the apostolic group, of "that incomparable woman," as Pius XII called her in praise, was forced out of existence by an uncompre-hending Vatican in the 17th century, only to be papally approved in the 19th century. The Sisters of St. Joseph, of the same 17th century, quietly and obscurely flourished, in part because while liv-ing such an apostolic spirituality, they called no widespread atten-tion to it. The members of the Society of Jesus, for the end proposed to them by its founder, Ignatius Loyola, who could "find God in all things," were supposed to find the self-transformation of holiness through an involvement with the world in spreading the ldngdom of God. It was a world that Ignatius and his first companions knew by experience was changing and needed new ways of living and preaching the gospel. But it was very difficult to get across to many of the next gene?ations of Jesuits that both present world and inevitable change were to be taken seriously as part of a Jesuit apostolic spirituality. In its more recent his-tory, the Society of Jesus in its spirituality continues to seek for "the conversion of the individual," but it also wants to help "to transform the world into a fit habitation for justice and human- March-April 1994 175 Padberg ¯ In the Midst of the Times ity." In so choosing a double yes, it recognized the need to take seriously both the world around it and history, process, develop-ment, and change. In the 19th century, when the Society of Jesus was univer-sally restored after the French Revolution, it could not and did not For all of the 19th century, religious, life inclined heavily not to an apostolic spirituality, with a yes both to world and to history, but rather to a locational or "city of God" spirituality, with a yes indeed to the world but with a no to history or change. both the real successes wish to deny the world itself as the locus of its endeavor. It could hardly do so and be authentically Jesuit. But that world was in the midst of great change, and the church and all religious orders, including the Jesuits, were acutely uncomfortable with change and reluctant to respond pos-itively to it. In the midst of a world in which they had never been more active and thought they had an apostolic spiri-tuality, the church and religious orders were not only uncomfortable with that world as they found it, but also often nos-talgic for a past world and in fear of a world changing yet more before their eyes. In such circumstances, for all of the 19th century, religious life inclined heav-ily not to an apostolic spirituality, with a yes both to world and to history, but rather to a locational or "city of God" spirituality, with a yes indeed to the world but with a no to history or change. This fundamental attitude may help to explain and the real failures of the 19th-century structures and activities and spirituality of religious life with which most orders'and congregations lived until Vatican II. More gen-erally it also may help to explain the puzzlement; the ambiguity, even the dismay with which religious life looked around after Vatican II and could not fathom where it stood or how it expressed its relationships with the world and with history. Which one of the four sets of responses to the world and to history best characterizes the spirituality of most religious life today? When the question is put that way, there is not and should not be a single, monolithic answer. Fidelity to the originating charism and "to the spirit of the founder and responsiveness to critical and unmet human needs" imply and indeed mandate both 176 Review for Religious such a diversity in religious congregations and such an overriding purpose that, as a result, each congregation, in order to be true to itself, will have a response particular to itself, a response which at the same time will always look to those needs. There is a yet deeper question. Why answer.at all? Why reli-gious life at all? What was quoted earlier in this essay still remains the fundamental answer: "The only reason for religious life is the experience of God." It is not only in religious life, of course, that a person experiences God, but that fundamental experience, how-ever dark or bright, however tumultuous or serene, however unin-terrupted or intermittent, has to anchor our experience of the world in the midst of time and our responses to the world and to history or change. The Response to Need Let us return now to the three points at which the question why was raised, the three times in the modern world at which religious life experienced major change in church and world and thus also in itself. Just as at the beginning of religious life in the Egyptian desert and through its earlier centuries, so also, in the post-Reformation church and the post-Revolution church, reli-gious life was a response to a need. For the monks and nuns of the desert, it was a need to live out the gospel and to follow the Lord more faithfully than they thought they could in a society in which the Constantinian church and empire had made peace and had come to rely on each other. In the counter-Reformation century, religious congregations, of direct apostolic service especially, arose in response to the Catholic revival that emphasized a renewed preaching of the gospel (hence congregations for urban retreats and country missions); works of charity (hence religious commu-nities that worked in orphanages and hospitals and prisons); the centrality of the sacraments (hence congregations devoted to urg-ing the reception of confession and Communion); the outward expansion of the gospel to newly discovered worlds (hence for-eign- mission congregations)~ and Christian education (hence con-gregations that took on schools and colleges and seminaries and the publishing of pious books and pamphlets and tracts of all kinds). "Active" religious congregations, both new ones and reformed and revitalized ones, arose in response to specific needs, religious and secular, of church and civic community. As for the March-/ltrri11994 177 Padberg * In the Midst of the Times more cloistered or so-called "contemplative" orders, while they did indeed grow, growth was much slower and reform of the inter-nal life of the community was more the norm. When one asks why the apostolic-service orders grew so dra- When one asks why the apostolic-service orders grew so dramatically in the 19th century, response-to-need again seems the fundamental answer. matically in the 19th century, response-to-need again seems the fundamental answer. In Europe a shattered institutional structure had to be rebuilt. Many of the old and formerly religious educational and social institutions had been confiscated by the state, which was often at least determinedly secularist and often actively anticlerical. The second great wave of European colonial expansion into Asia and Africa took place, with the consequent open-ing of mission fields. Meanwhile the church in the persons of its highest officials and of .most of its members was determinedly con-servative and often actively hostile to the polit-ical, social, c~altural, and intellectual currents of the age. Frequently, then, European Catholics thought that only institutions parallel to but indepen-dent of the state would "protect the faith." To respond to those needs as thus perceived, new religious congregations arose locally, regionally, and nationally. Their founders and their members had maps, the almost unchanged Tridentine rules and regulations, expressed and implied and still unquestioned, of church and reli-gious life. They had the experience of present but traditional unmet needs. They responded, generously and heroically, within the boundaries of that map. They had little imaginative ability to see unmet needs that were new. But neither did the church, for example, in the case of the socially unjust consequences of the Industrial Revolution. In the,United States of the 19th century, the circumstances were somewhat the same, somewhat different, The rules and reg-ulations of religious life were the same as in Europe, but the insti-tutions of Catholic life had to be built up from the beginning, and, as the century went on, the building had to take place right in the midst of an immigrant flood of poor, uneducated Catholics coming into a vastly different and somewhat hostile environment: Here, too, the need seemed to be for institutions to protect the faith of the immigrants and to introduce them into American 178 Revie'w for Religious society. To respond to those needs, here, too, new apostolic or "active" congregations arose and old ones established branches in the United States. They too had the same maps; they knew from experience that those maps had to be modified, simultane-ously felt guilty when they did so, and were often unable to offer to Rome a theoretical basis for the changes. While apt at devis-ing new strategies in traditional apostolates, those congregations, too, lacked the imaginative ability to see unmet needs that were new, for example, in the case of the black population and the unjust institutions of slavery and then of segregation. But at least through the 19th century and up to the end of World War II and the assimilation of the Catholic population into the economic and social mainstream of American society, the active religious congregations responded visibly and successfully to the immedi-ate educational, social, and economic needs of American Catholics. At the third major upheaval in religious life, the one follow-ing Vatican II, religious were called on not, of course, to tear up the old maps and discard them, but surely to revise them thor-oughly in the light of:the council's teaching. But such revision is not a short-term, easily~done task. Religious life in the United States is still at it and, from an historian's point of view, has not been at it very long yet, not even quite a full human generation. For Americans, used to quick results, this seems both intolerable and discouraging. And the analogy of map ~revision can only be partial, since not simply documents but also attitudes, insights, and patterns of practice enter into such a revision. As for experience, the theological essay describes well the "social, economic, and political forces at work in the culture of the United States [as] contributing to changes in religious life" (Johnson, p. 10). All of those forces, even those least direcdy con-nected with the church or religious life, have been part of the context of our experience of that life since Vatican II. They have modified both our reading of the maps of the past from which we came and our tentative responses to the present. The imagi-nation to see how to put those experiences to positive use in con-temporary religious life is still in short supply. What we need most is the imagination to conceive of what we want that future to be. ' March-April 1994 179 Padberg ¯ In the Midst of the Times Something is going to happen to religious life in the United States over the next ten years. What will it be? Future History as a Conclusion An historian is really not a prophet in any of the usual dic-tionary meanings of that word. He or she neither "utters divinely inspired revelations" nor is "gifted with more than ordinary spir-itual and moral insight" nor "foretells future events" nor necessarily is "an effective and lead-ing spokesperson for a cause, doctrine, or group." But near the conclusion of these reflec-tions, an historian might urge on the readers of this essay an exercise sometimes called "future history," an exercise within which one can think about the future with realism and imagination. Briefly, taken literally, the exercise asks present participants in an activity or institution to write here and now but as if from a particular point in the future at least part of the history of what "has" happened in order to get to that future. It thereby requires the participants to imagine what might have happened and to select those things which they think most likely to happen to bring about that imagined future. The purpose, quite frankly, is to provoke people to turn their minds to the future decade. Something is going to happen to religious life in the United States over the next ten years. What will it be? That exercise in future history begins by looking back from the year 2005. What will have happened to religious life in the United States? For example, imagine the community of which you are a part enjoying in the year 2005 a successful existence in the service of the gospel, the church, and the human community. What characteristics describe that success? How did the com-munity achieve that success? Most importantly, what five impor-tant decisions were made by the community in 1994 to 1999, the first five of those years, to make it the success it now is in 2005? On what five things in those five years did you and your com-munity and the ministry you work in and your coworkers come to a consensus which contributed to making your community, its inner life and its exterior works, the success that it is in 2005? The future is in the present in such decisions. This framework for imagining and planning can bring us quickly to concrete details and can gently force us to face up to what we think realistically possible. 180 Review for Religious Where does one start in developing.such a future history? Perhaps with three questions: First, how would I describe to myself what I think my religious congregation fundamentally is? Second, what are the absolutely essential characteristics of its reli-gious community life? Third, what are the absolutely essential characteristics that any work it undertakes should have, be that work contemplative prayer or civic networking or anything in between? With the best answers in hand that we can presently give to those questions, derived from our present experience of the world in the midst of the times in which we live as religious, we might go on to imagine what ideally we want to be in 2005 and to plan what practically we can do to achieve that goal. Neither an historian nor anyone else could have predicted what as a matter of fact did come after the original Advent. What did take place in the coming of Jesus was a deed that was faithful to God's original purpose and to the origins of our salvation in the fulfillment of God's promises. It was an experience of God between the times, surely thus a postmodern experience in that it broke out of all past and present categories, and also a deed that con-tinues to be active even in the midst of times in the presence of the Holy Spirit in a world still "charged with the grandeur of God." That post-Advent deed and its consequences are the foundation for the yet unimagined post-Pentecost future of religious life. Notes ' Page numbers refer to Elizabeth A. Johnson CSJ, "Between the Times: Religious Life and the Postmodern Experience of God," as pub-lished in Review for Religious 53, no. 1 (January-February 1994): 6-28; hereafter Johnson. 2 Quotations from the Executive Summary of the study will refer to the text in Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 6- 55; hereafter Summary. 3This structure is taken from an article by E. Edward Kinerk SJ, "Toward a Method for the Study of Spirituality," Review for Religious 40, no. 1 (January 1981): 3-19. March-April 1994 181 DAVID MARIA KNIGHT Vowed Witness in a Church Intent on Love commitments I spent several years in the confused and glorious hey-day after Vatican II writing and speaking on the goal and value of the re.ligious vows. Inspired by the theology of Karl Rahner, I presented them, in a nutshell, as the "real-symbolic expressing (and therefore experience) of response to the transcendent call of grace." In English this meant that each vow was a way of realizing, of "making real," both to ourselves and to others, the truth of the faith, the hope, the love we were giving to Jesus Christ and his gospel. Poverty is a "real-symbolic" expression of the fact that we have set our hopes for fulfillment and security not on material possessions, but on the riches of the kingdom. Real poverty, voluntarily embraced, is a way of saying we really hope in God's promises, we really place our trust in God. Celibacy is an expression "in the flesh" of our belief that anyone who accepts "the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ" can have with God, now, on this earth, a rela-tionship of love as real as marriage, as satisfying as mar-riage, and as developmental of us as loving persons as the most ideal marriage could be. One does not have to be a celibate to be in spousal relationship with Christ--it is implicit in our baptismal consecration as "brides in the David Maria Knight is a priest of the Memphis diocese. He is a well-known author and speaker. His address is Sacred Heart Church; 1324 Jefferson; Memphis, Tennessee 38104. 182 Revie.w for Religious Bride" who is the church--but the commitment to voluntary celibacy is one way to realize, to make real in flesh and blood and action, the truth of this relationship that our faith tells us about and to experience interiorly the passionate intensity of the love we are giving to God in Jesus Christ. The vow of obedience is a real way of expressing our faith in the active presence of Jesus in the church as true head of his Body on earth, and an expression of confidence that he is able to use us and will use us effectively for the work of the kingdom through the government of those who speak for him with authority in his Body. This was new. It was a departure from the traditional way of explaining the vows as means for overcoming attachment to pos-sessions, desire for sexual pleasure, and pride. The new Catechism of the Catholic Church, although it takes a much more inspiring and positive approach to religious life elsewhere, still describes the "evangelical counsels" as "having as their goal the removal of any-thing which., could be an obstacle to the development of char-ity" (no. 1973). I believe that even if nothing within us were an obstacle to the "perfection of charity" the vows would still be inestimably desirable as passionate expressions, in flesh and blood, of the reality of ourfaith, our hope, our love for God in Jesu~s Christ. Their primary value is not in what they remove, but in what they give: the deep, personal awareness (and witness in the church) of relating to God in passionate faith, hope, and love. I find myself now, however, immersed in lay spirituality. As pastor of a parish--a position I requested precisely to "field test" a plan for.spiritual growth in parishes which I have been devel-oping for ten or fifteen years-- I am fc~cused on preaching and teaching the spirituality of the laity as they are defined in Vatican II (a definition which distinguishes the secular laity from lay reli-gious): those who "live in the world; that is, in each and all of the secular professions and occupations [and who] live in the ordi-nary circumstances of family and social life, from which the very web of their existence is woven." Vatican II not only makes clear, but assumes it is "evident to everyone," that "all the faithful of Christ, of whatever rank or status, are called to the fullness of the Christian life and to the per-fection of charity." This, I believe, is the key to all the aftermath of Vatican II. Pastoral ministry has had to refocus.The goal of parish life is no longer to provide the laity with those services they need March-April 1994 183 Knight ¯ Vowed Witness in a Church Intent on Love to "save their souls." It is to lead the laity, all of them, closer to the "perfection of love." Parish ministry has changed from store keeping to intensive marketing, from a "maintenance spiritual-ity" to a spirituality of growth. Gone are the days when parishes Religious have the personal experience of committing themselves to total response to the gospel and have training and practice in living it which should make them the natural "coaches" for the laity. existed just to provide a preordained set of services, and the only stress on the priest was concern about providing them well. Now every parish is, or should be, a center fomenting desire for "the fullness of the Christian life" in all of its members and pro-viding the motivation, instruction, and sup-port necessary to keep every member growing toward the "perfection of charity." Now every pastor faces the challenge of dis-covering how to do this. And it is not easy; the paths a whole parish can follow to greener pastures are neither familiar nor well -worn. But the goal is clear: parishes exist to support that kind of living in their members which makes the life of every single one of them a "way of perfection"--a term we used to reserve for the vowed life of religious. The life of every Christian should be avis-ible, lived-out response to the first of all commandments: "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your strength, with all your mind." Jesus' words "If you would be perfect." are addressed to all. To every one of his followers he says, "Be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect., strive first for the king-dom of God." How does religious life fit into all of this? There are some obvious answers we need not dwell on, because they should be evident to everyone: Religious have the personal experience of committing themselves to total response to the gospe.1 and have training and practice in living it which should make them the natural "coaches" for the laity as the whole church turns toward this goal. Also, the "fullness of the Christian life" includes involvement in ministry, which is explicit in our bap-tismal commitment. There is no question about the fact that reli-gious, the majority of whom are nonordained women, are the most experienced and effective "lay ministers," taken as a body, that the church has ever known. In the historical context of what 184 Review for Religious is and not only in the abstract context of what theoretically ought to be, it is still true to say, "If you want it done, get a nun!" But there is another way in which religious life fits into this picture of the "new church" striving en masse for perfection, and I think it is something which must be recognized if the conversion of every Christian way of life into a way of perfection is going to succeed. Religious are examples and models of that dramatic ges-ture which is a key element in launching anyone into passionate relationship with God. When Jesus said to the young man in Matthew's Gospel, "If you wish to be perfect, go, sell your possessions, and give the money to the poor. ," he was giving, not a command and not a "counsel," but an example. The young man came out of a legal-istic tradition. Jesus acknowledged this in the beginning by meet-ing him on his own ground and saying, "If you wish to enter into life, keep the commandments." The young man was still thinking legalistically when he said, "Which ones?" so Jesus gave him a list. But when the boy said, "I have kept all these; what do I still lack?" and showed that there was something in him impelling him beyond a religion of law observance, Jesus recognized in him a kindred soul, someone who could learn what he came to teach. Then Jesus said (and now I am paraphrasing), "Well, if you want to live by my 'new way'--if you want to be perfect, to 'live life to the full'--here is something you can do to start with which will show that you understand what it is all about. Go, sell everything you have, and give the money to the poor. Then you can come and follow me." What Jesus was calling for was a dramatic gesture--something that would catapult the young man into another orbit of response to God. He may have been thinking explicitly of the gesture Elisha made when Elijah the prophet called him to be his successor: Elijah set out, and came upon Elisha, son of Shaphat, as he was plowing with twelve yoke of oxen; he was following the twelfth. Elijah went over to him and threw his cloak over him. Elisha left the oxen, ran after Elijah, and said, "Please, let me kiss my father and mother good-bye, and I will fol-low you." "Go back!" Elijah answered. "Have I done any-thing to you?" Elisha left him and, taking the yoke of oxen, slaughtered them; he used the plowing equipment for fuel to boil their flesh, and gave it to his people to eat. Then he left and followed Elijah as his attendant (1 K 19:19-21). March-April 1994 185 Knight * Vowed Witness in a Church Intent on Love Jesus asks all, takes all, is worth all. Why did not Elisha just have one of his workers lead the oxen back to the barn and put up the equipment while he left with Elijah? The answer is obvious: After what he had said to Elijah and Elijah to him, Elisha felt the need to make a dramatic gesture, just to show how willing he was to leave everything immediately and give himself to the service of God. This gesture was necessary, not only to win Elijah's confidence, but so that Elisha himself would know, without any shadow of doubt, that he was sweeping everything out of his heart in undivided dedication to what he was called to do. What Jesus said to the rich young man about "selling everything" was just one example of the kind of dramatic gesture which would show that the man understood, before he started to follow Jesus, what the terms of discipleship would be. In a nutshell, Jesus asks all, takes all, is worth all. What he offers is the "pearl of great price" and the "treasure hidden in a field" for which we must be willing to sell every other pearl, even everything we own. What he said to this young man was no dif-ferent from what he said in several places elsewhere. And essentially what Jesus tells the young man is the same thing he proclaims to all when he says, "whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple" (see the whole of this passage, Luke 14:2 5-3 3). Another translation miti-gates for modern ears the Hebrew starkness of "hate fath+r and mother" by making it "turn your back on father and mother." This puts the interior attitude into the form of a dramatic gesture again, but the meaning is the same: "Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. And if you want to know you do not love father or mothei" more than me, make a dramatic gesture that proves it." Jesus could just as well have told the young man, "If you want to embrace my way, show it by leaving home; abandon your father and mother!" Or he could have used the example Matthew cites right before this and said, "Go make yourself a eunuch for the sake of the kingdom; that will prove you are taking me seriously!" Jesus is a teacher; he.is trying to make a point. It is of no concern to him whether his followers are rich or poor, married or celi-bate, living with their parents or missioned a thousand miles away 186 Review for Religdous from them. They can be living the "perfection of charity" in any of these situations. What Jesus is saying Ks that anyone who authentically follows him must be, in fact, total and undivided in love for God, or at least be consciously committed to such total and undi-vided love. And it is characteristic of human beings that we do not really know what is in our hearts until we express what is in them externally. As 'Karl Rahner puts it, "We do not know that we really believe in the two birds in the bush until we let go of the one bird in the hand." We cannot know that our treasure is in heaven unless in some way we renounce the treasure we have stored up on earth. And if we want to know that we really believe in the invis-ible God in our heart, one effective though rad-ical way to discover it is to give up the visible man or woman in our arms. To launch ourselves into a "way of perfection," we need to make some dramatic, radical gesture which says to us and to others from the outset that we are for real. This is what religious know, what they have experienced, and what the centuries-old tradition of religious life has demonstrated: To launch ourselves into a "way of perfection," we need to make some dramatic, radical gesture which says to us and to others from the outset that we are for real. Jesus Christ is not real to us until we take him for real. And to give up things which are very, very real to us, such as money, marriage, and independence, is a very powerful, passionate way to take him for real. It is authen-tic, it is legitimate, and it works. In the "new" church, which is consciously oriented toward the "perfection of love" as the go.al of every Christian's way of life, religious have the role of witnessing to the need and to the efficacy of expressing dramatically one's commitment to this love. Religious need to understand their vows as the dramatic expres-sion of their own intention to live single-mindedly--in "purity of heart"--in total, passionate, undivided love for God. The vows are a dramatic gesture, but a real one, like that of the bride strip-ping herself for the bridegroom. They are a gesture given daily-- every day, all day--as the expression of enduring, faithfully passionate love. The purpose of the vows is to focus our hearts on the person of Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ offers himself daily in the dramatic gesture of March-April 1994 187 Knight ¯ Vowed Witness in a Church Intent on Love the Eucharist--"This is my body, given up for you." He asks us to open ourselves physically to him, to receive him into our bodies in the dramatic gesture of Communion which pledges us to be one with him in heart and mind and soul, in the living of our lives and in the offering of our lives together with him, the Lamb of God, for the life of the world. Religious have understood for centuries the significance of this language of love. Whatever else they did or did not do, religious, whenever it was humanly pos-sible, participated in the eucharistic celebration daily. Those men and women who daily lived their lives in love, who daily gave expression through their vows to their passionate intention of loving the Lord their God with their whole heart, whole strength, whole minds, grasped without need of explanation the appropri-ateness of joining themselves to Jesus Christ in the passionate daily expression of his love in the Eucharist. Sometimes people ask, "Why is there no sacramental conse-cration to religious life as there is to marriage and priesthood?" Perhaps an answer is that religious ire not consecrated to a par-ticular function in the church the way priests and married people are; their function as religious is that of all the baptized: to bear witness to Jesus Christ and his gospel in the total, passionate, daily oblation of themselves. But religious, by their particular and different way of life~ do this in an explicitly recognizable way. Religious life, when it is authentically lived, is a visible, convinc-ing sign (as martyrdom is) that total dedication to Jesus Christ is possible, that the grace of undivided love is present and active in the church. Sacraments are "visible signs instituted by Jesus Christ to give grace." Perhaps we can say that religious life is "grace made visible in a total commitment to Jesus Christ that is a sign," In this case the sacramental expression of religious life--as of every Christian life which actually aims at the "perfection of love"--is the eucharistic celebration. Religious, who have .been called to make their lives a dramatic gesture of love, celebrate the meaning of their vocation when they join themselves to the dramatic expression Jesus gives to his passion, to his passionate love, every day in the Mass. 188 Review for Religious THERESA MANCUSO Quest for an Undivided Heart On a dark autumn night in Far Rockaway, the rough Atlantic lurches and rolls up the sand. The tide is coming in. Foamy waves crash along the shore, filling rocky crevices with a salty spray, dislodging, sometimes, the fearless gulls that perch precariously on the jetty's edge waiting for their prey, regardless of season, regardless of cold. High up on a boulder overlooking the surf, I perch myself, silent in the coming night, watchful as my three German Shepherd dogs dart back and forth into the water playing tag along the beach. A ripe harvest moon hovers above, the only source of light as the gathering darkness wraps the shore in stillness. Alone now except for the roaring sea,which seems alive in its noisy motion, we are sandwiched here between heaven and earth, time and eter-nity. It is a good place to think, a great place to pray. In this deserted cathedral of earth and sky and sea, I often find renewal for my soul. Solitude, silence, and surrender calm and soothe when I am lonely or afraid or when, perchance, I have momen-tarily lost sight of the vision that impels me. Many-splendored master that it is, the sea is both healer and challenger and the everlasting Face of the Deep is forever a reminder of human lone-liness, longing for God. Many years ago in the romanticism of adolescence, like many others, I was drawn and fascinated by the ideals of religious life and led to embark on a spiritual journey on which celibacy, con- Theresa Mancuso's article "Prayer, Memories, and God" was published in our July-August 1993 issue. She'lives at 448 Seventh Avenue; Brooklyn, New York 11215. March-April 1994 189 Mancuso ¯ Quest for an Undivided Heart secrated chastity, was considered the pearl of great price. For the crown of Sponsa Christi, the young religious was inspired to sac-rifice the heart, forgetful of every, human longing--not knowing for sure all it entailed. To the precious star of chastity we set our sails so long ago and far away, willing to journey through the per-ilous waters of life, armed only with faith and emboldened by the little we knew or understood about reality or ourselves. Maturity was far off, then, as we took ,.the golden chalice of chastity with both our hands, intent on draining it to the dregs. Time folded round about us like the arms of the sea as decade by decade we were washed in the flood of human experience from which there is no return. There is a solitude and silence deep in the heart of conse-crated celibacy, a surrender that echoes in the still point of the soul. Despite the changes time inscribes on the idealism of youth, it is a refreshing experience to meet today's consecrated virgins, men and women of various ages for whom religious chastity has never lost its meaning. Of their lives and their experiences, let us take note. The consecrated virgin is rather little understood and even less appreciated in the modern world. Nevertheless, religious chastity is still the sign and seal of the kingdom of God among us. We try not to forget where we came from or where we are going. There is something indelibly written in the human heart by the vow of chastity. Regardless of all the changing cultural mores in the world about us, regardless, too, of our own restless hearts, the unspeakable beauty of this vow is bound up to the essential integrity it sustains, the quest and achievement of an undivided heart. When those of us who vowed our lives to consecrated chastity long ago and far away confront the reality of today, who we are and what we. have become, deep questions await us. Have we emerged through the years with undivided hearts? Have we found the pearl of great price? Has chastity given us power to love all God's chil-dren, to nurture the world in the spirit of faith, to sustain great and noble friendships without losing the balance of a virginal heart? Is celibacy still our pearl of great price, or has it become an embarrassment to us in a world of sexual adventure,., excess, and casual alliances? Doe's chastity still shine within us with the light of happiness that shone in the promises of youth, or is our love for 190 Review for Reli~ous the celibate ideal so damaged by time and tarnished by temptation that it is long forgotten, pushed to the back of our mind as if, indeed, we had never given ourselves to God? Have we grown tired of trying? Have we lost our precious pearl? The.monk (monachos) or nun (monache) stands in the breach of the universe, a marginal person, monos-- alone. In that desert there is solitude, silence, and surrender, but there is also tenderness, joy, freedom, and peace, the gifts of the Spirit and the happiness of an undivided heart. To be alone with God in the vastness of time is sometimes frightening. We came to religious life burning with desire for union with God. The spiritual goals of enlighten-ment and self-giving called us to surrender our entire existence, everything,, right down to the deepest longings in the human heart. How shall we know if the promise has been fulfilled within us? Eschewing too much analysis, it is not with-out merit to examine ourselves with regard to chastity, for what we paid the greatest price for shall indeed be our sweetest con-solation. The reality of celibacy takes us into solitude, not once and for all, but over and over again. Every time we face the silent stillness of an unencumbered life, we recognize the act of sur-render (for there is really no other alternative), an act that leads time and time again straight to the heart of God. Along this way the saints have gone, and we may follow. Monks and nuns are not alone in celebrating the joy of the undivided heart. Many others, to be sure, in the world about us, have sacrificed sexual expression for the love of God, the practice of intensified religious living, the service of others, and the deepening freedom of the human spirit. Why be celibate in a world exploding with sexuality? Why be chaste in a society glutted by sensual allurement? Why refrain from instant and immediate gratification? The promise of chastity remains today what it has always been, an uninterrupted, pro-foundly unifying discipline of the heart, a calming of emotion. Apatheia. Passionlessness. The emptying of explosive divisive attachment. Our long journey-to God is a quest for an undivided The reality of celibacy takes us into Solitude, not once and for all, but over and over again. March-April 1994 191 Mancuso ¯ Quest for an Undivided Heart Chastity for the kingdom of God shines beside marital chastity as a vocation complete and magnificent in itself. heart, stripped of attachment to all that is not he. Kenosis. Emptying. But we do not strive to abandon passion in order to be phlegmatic zombies. We do not strive to over-come attachment so that we can be cold, mechanical people, devoid of love. Instead, chastity is the baptism of all our feelings, all our emotions, the freeing of all the power within us, zest for life, creative energy. Chastity is the focus of our vision on God,or it is nothing. Celibacy asks its practitioner to pour out its most intimate being, not into the void, but into the Total Ultimate that is God. Chastity calls for continual repentance, continual surrender. Metanoia. Change of heart. The surrender of sexual distraction and satisfaction removes from a human being those concerns about intimacy that. often eat up the larger portion of human consciousness and creative preconsciousness. The heart that is focused on God is empowered to love and embrace the entire world, not for self-satisfaction, but with gen-uine and authentic interest and care. Our consecrated celibacy should make us more loving, more caring, more gentle and tender, compassionate and kind. That is the reality of an undivided heart. To be all things to all for the love of God, unselfishly, with purity of heart--that is the joy of chastity, the empowerment of the virgin. When today the world scoffs at virginity, it acts and reacts without understanding or knowledge of what it truly is. Our quest for an undivided heart is not futile, not wasted. It is the journey of courage that takes us into the fullness of God's abiding presence, more and more revealed to us proportionately as we lay aside all that is not God. The whole point of celibacy is union with God, nothing more and nothing less. Chastity is free-dom from the pursuit of pleasure and popularity, freedom from encrustations of endless self-adornment for the sake of vanity or "sex appeal," freedom from uncontrolled emotion and undisci-plined desire--indeed, freedom from self in areas where self may be the worst enemy. We do not posit'the beauty of consecrated chastity over against marital chastity, but beside it, its sister state. Chastity for the kingdom of God shines beside marital chastity as a vocation 192 Review.for Religious complete and magnificent in itself. Monos, alone. The splendor of the celibate heart is not servile frigidity nor some holier-than-thou imagined adornment of the soul. The consecrated virgin is not opposed to the married; the virgin lives as ultimate marriage of the spirit. The splendor of celibacy is the quickening of abil-ity to embrace the world unselfishly and bring God's love back into it. By surrendering one's right to nurture one's own offspring, one is free to take the children of humanity into one's deepest embrace and to love and serve them forever. Celibacy is a font of energy in the undivided heart, a direEting of the life force to the Life Giver. We need never be ashamed for having made this choice--indeed, for having been chosen for it. Most religious have tasted the price of celibacy. Many have traveled far from the safety of religious communities in which the vows were made, those havens where temptation was kept very much at bay. Unexpqsed and untested, we thought ourselves pure. Later, mind and heart were tested by the real world. The promise of celibacy is far deeper than all the dreams 'and aspira-tions of our youth. Life has a way of sweeping away illusion. One by one we find ourselves devoid of excuses, alone in the wilder-ness wfiere we must do battle against the pull of desire. But God teaches us quietly with relentless compassion until we understand the vigorous truth of what it is all about. And then the years are gone. Single-mindedness in the undivided heart bears fruit in quiet happiness. One finds, after all, that God is always with us, his love underpinning everything we are, everything we do. All earthly delights pale beside the effulgence of God reveal-ing himself to those who seek him with a pure heart. Immersed in him completely, we are given a new ability to focus on the things that really matter. Nor should we think of celibacy as just a physical state. It is more a state of mind, a field of completion for the soul, a refin-ing instrument that fine-tunes emotion. Chastity with diligent constancy chips and chisels all the corners of the human heart. It makes us who we are, but slowly, slow. We are forever becom-ing. As the sea chips and chisels the shore, so does celibacy remove the dross of selfishness as it refines the heart. Not without pain. Not without suffering. But, most importantly, not without joy. I watch a gull swoop down into the waves, taking his catch from the sea. The small fish is caught, devoured, by the power-ful beak of the gull, for this is nature's way. Then the lonely sea March-April.1994 193 Mancuso ¯ Quest for an Undivided Heart Our quest for an undivided heart seems to take a whole lifetime. gull flies up out of the wave and is lost to sight in the evening sky. It reminds me that I, too, fly alone over the'ocean of life, single in the world, without a mate, for one great purpose, God. The gull and I are one for this single fleeting moment as the night steals on and the only sound in the darkness is the song of the sea. Two beings in the universe, separate and complete, starkly alone. Somehow in thavfleeting moment I come to understand why I choose .celibacy. All the props have disappeared since the day on which I promised chastity to God. It is very different now, the life I am leading, Those who inspired me have vanished from the earth in the sweet embrace of death or are far away from me. Our destinies, once so closely entwined, grew separate through the years. The whole world has changed, but the heart remains the same. Over time we face our dragons, such as they are. There is no exemption. Life batters the foundations on which religious vows are built. Suffering and sin touch everyone. The best we can do is to keep on choosing God first, for he has chosen us. To keep on choosing God is to celebrate the vow of celibacy for the love of God and for no other reason. To keep one's eye on the goal is to remain in an undivided heart. All along the way we just keep fac-ing ourselves, as we are, for better or for worse. Staggering truths reveal themselves, but they do not come home to us all at once. As the years unfold, bit by bit we uncover the truths of who and what we really are. Life insists that we go beyond the images, far beyond our misconceptions and imaginings. Sometimes it is a painful, searing journey. Our quest for an undivided heart seems to take a whole lifetime. It was not the work of the novitiate nor completed in the ceremony of vow day. The richness of the vowed life dawns slowly a long way down the road from where we started. As the moon rises higher in the sky over Rockaway, the dark-ness fills with a luminous aura. The sea quiets down as the tide rests inland. The dogs hunker down beside me, digging deep cav-erns in the sand to lie down in. Questions of celibacy have long challenged me, not just tonight, but many nights for more than a quarter of a century. Now, in this luminous nightfall on the shore, all inne~ rhythms find themselves attuned to the sand and sea and sky. One with the universe for a single moment, the burdens of a 194 Revie~ for Religious lifetime fall silently into the waves. Configured in stark simplic-ity, it suddenly makes sense, lt's all about an undivided heart. I did not notice the stars coming out slowly in the black dome of sky as the evening wore on. They twinkle now light years away, far above me. There they are just as they have always been. But I didn't notice them, not until now. Only now do I see them clearly, a starry quilt across the heavens wrapping land and sea in the blanket of their glory. The whole point and purpose of religious chastity seems suddenly at last so clear, so complete. The quest for an undivided heart. Through it we are called to create an interior environment free from the remnants of undisciplined love, unrea-sonable attachment, self-centered emotionalism, and the display of ego. Celibacy re~noves distraction from the undivided heart. One consecrated to celibacy still stands in this troubled world as a sign of the kingdom of God as the stars stand from age to age, forever. Gathering my things, I descend the rocks and leave the beach, dogs at my side. The stars are twinkling high above and the sea's roar is silent. Everything is still as the fullness of nighttime falls. The burden of loneliness is gone; commotions of the mind are silent. With renewed conviction I head for home, focused, for a while at least, on the pearl of great price that once was mine and calls me still to the undivided heart that finds its all in God. Vocation Poets and prophets Are born to bleed And orily lesser ones weep. To have heard and held in hollow heart a word Seared lips al~ne may speak Is glory enough--is glory indeed! Janet Benish March-April 1994 195 BRIAN C. YATES Imaged Celibacy: A Reflection for Priests This reflection on celibacy considers the imagination in e life of a celibate. To put the theme bluntly: Do I see and imagine myself as a celibate? Do I see my celibate self as a lov-ing and lovable man? The apostolic exhortation "I Will Give You Shepherds" (Pastores dabo vobis, 7 April 1992) says, "The gift of self, which is the source and synthesis of pastoral charity, is directed to the church" (§23). My query is this: Is the self that comes to mind in these questions and in this statement my real and true self, or is it in practice my false self?. My false self--using Thomas Merton's distinction--is what may be described as my mask, my shadow, my empirical self, the self I develop in my own likeness rather than in the likeness of God. I develop the false self to cope with the trials of life; it is the self I project and display to the outer world of people and experience. The true self, on the other hand, is that deeper new reality which lies hidden within me as the image of God, the word of God that I am, the new man described by St. Paul. To paraphrase Merton, the real I is simply one's self and nothing more, one's self as it is in the eyes of God. First, then, do I as a celibate try to work at making my false self celibate? Do I attempt to accomplish the task of making who I think I ought to be celibate? Such an approach is all of my own doing--granted all the goodwill in the world--and is prone to utter frustration. Why? Because celibacy needs to be linked not to Brian C. Yates, a diocesan priest, writes for us from Galilee House; 60B Blair Street; Bondi, N.S.W. 2026; Australia. 196 Review for Religious the false, unreal, pretended self, but rather to the real self. I am firmly of the opinion that many of us celibates have tried to make our false selves celibate. It is, however, only when we get in touch with our real selves by honest and true self-knowledge and awareness that we accept ourselves as created by God in his own image and likeness. We then accept the word of God that each of us is. Only when we discover our true self and discover the real-ity of God dwelling within us can we admit that our identity rests on our being loved by God who dwells within. By throwing off the hold the false self has on me, I become open to the gifting of the Holy Spirit. The "Come, Holy Spirit" invocation is a cry from the true self, not the false self. Second, do I image myself as a celibate loving and lovable man? I propose that celibacy thrives as a reality in our lives only when our graced active imag-ination never lets us forget that we possess it as a gift of the Spirit of God. In other words, if celibacy is not imaged as a desired gift, it will not continue to be there as a gift or in any other way. The invitation to image is suggested by Jesus' question "What are you looking for?" (Jn 1:38). Men who have been ordained to the priesthood have been so gifted because, over the course of years, they have imaged priesthood and celibacy as the gifts they are. The art of imaging is not fantasy or mental picture making, nor is it a means of escaping reality and life's demands. Rather, it is the way which Providence uses to get us into the real. It is the energy and power of one's mental faculty that operates through the medium of images, symbols, myths, stories, and parables--for example, the kingdom of heaven is like a pearl of great price, a dragnet, a hidden treasure, a festive wedding banquet. Imaging is a way of knowing--it is beyond mere reason and rational thought. When we image, we intuit and we use our feelings, emotions, and memories, without excluding logic and planning. In fact, these latter ingredients prevent us from sinking into mere reverie or daydreaming. The process of imaging has been aptly caught by the saying that "we tend to create what we love." Do I love celibacy? That is the question. The desire, under grace, to image is encouraged by St. Bernard's remark "The desire is the pledge of the fulfillment of the Imaging is a way of knowing-- it is beyond mere reason and rational thought. March-April 1994 197 Yates * Imaged Celibacy The image of celibacy has a life of its own, a life to be subsequently realized in practice. desire" and by Ricoeur's observation that to change behavior we .need to change the image. I propose that celibates will find their lives greatly enhanced by the practice of imaging celibacy. If one does not image celibacy as a gift to the true self, much energy will be exercised on the task of avoiding temptation, of coping, of excessive concern about the quality of interpersonal relationships, of asking "How far can I go?" or expressing one's sexuality in inappropriate ways, of offering up dif-ficulties, of living encumbered by suppression and repression, of merely tolerating the law of celibacy from outside as a technical requirement of ministry. When a man images celibacy as a gift to himself and practices a celibate lifestyle as a loving and lov-able person, he authors his own life as a free disci-ple of the Lord. Freedom and life are the results of such imaging and such practice. The image of celibacy has a life of its own, a life to be subse-quently realized in practice. As long as it stays healthy by being consciously lived, this life of celibacy prevents a takeover by outside factors. On our spiritual journey the passionate energy of imaging is aptly expressed in Luke's preamble to the Last Supper. Jesus' image is proclaimed: "I have greatly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer." This image, this desire, was acted upon by Peter and John: "Go and prepare our Passover for us" (Lk 22:7-16). The imaged desire of Jesus became a reality--it hap-pened. The Beatitude "Blest are the single-hearted for they shall see God" (Mt 5:8) further captures the imaged energy of the celi-bate. This blessed "sight of God" is shown again in the imaged and vigorously implemented desir~ of Zacchaeus to see Jesus. His running out in front and climbing the sycamore tree secured the presence of Jesus in his house that very day (Lk 19:1-10). Annie Dillard, in her story of the Weasel in Teaching a Stone to Talk, writes of "people taking vows of poverty, chastity, and obe-dience by choice. The thing is to stalk your calling., to grasp your one necessity and not let it go." If their vision has become blurred, celibates need to regain appropriate ways of imaging their choice of celibacy--they must stalk their calling. They must do this in conjunction with their own self-knowledge and aware-ness, their conscience and their value system, They must not shun 198 Review Jbr Religious the effort involved in such imaging and such living. They must keep looking in the right direction, in season and out of season: "They shall look on him whom they have pierced" (Jn 19:37). The Sacred Temple You will find your way by the grace of God over the broad dirt road through the merchant mob: the press of children selling holy cards, the pretty, gypsy girls and brown, drunken bards yelling: "No. no plaster., alabastert." as the ocean air fills with rum and laughter rum and laughter Scattering seagulls like failed prayer's fruit in a once quiet place the mob is upon you pushing, tugging, pulling at your jacket with old gum and bloody, sad gods of plastic their playfully wild dogs between your feet looking, whining, growling for something to eat something to eat But, then your senses blur. You are taken into, away, beyond the soul awakens where the bright sweetness of eternal Light consumes that crazy mob of our false delights where the Word of God draws with gentle bands and you know and are known where the birds fly home to the holy land. John Boyd OSB March-April 1994 199 JOANNE MARIE GREER Needed: An Ethic of Memories challenges In my current careei- I teach and supervise religious who are in training as pastoral counselors in M.A. and Ph.D. programs. Personal memories, memories of inter-personal exchhnges and relationships, are very live issues for these trainees, both in their emerging clinical compe-tence and in their own processing of their own pasts. This article is a result of my reflections deriving from my work with the students. Those reflections were crystallized by the following incident. Quite by accident I met Maria, someone who turned out to be a link to my past of almost forty years ago. I found that Maria was a close current friend of Anna, some-one I had known rather well in high school and also been with in the novitiate. I had moved to another part of the country and had not seen Anna since. Further exchanges ensued: "Well, do you know X?" "Did you know Y? . Did you also live under Mother Z, and what did you think of her?" "Did you visit such and such a place?" and so forth. Then my new acquaintance said, "Oh, by the way, my friend Anna is sometimes called [a slightly salacious nickname] within her community. No one will tell me the story behind it." With a moment's reflection on my part, I was able to supply the embar-rassing information, which came from Anna's life around age sixteen, When she and I were schoolmates. Joanne Marie Greer PhD is director of research in the Pastoral Counseling Department of Loyola College; 7135 Minstrel Way, Suite 101; Columbia, Maryland 21045 200 Review for Religious Later I was reporting this incident to Susan, a current-day friend. I had felt troubled by the exchange with Maria about Anna's nickname, but could not put my finger on the reason. I was certainly not jealous of Anna's friendship with Maria. Anna had not been a close friend of mine, and I had not thought of her in years. My friend Susan reproached me for telling the mean-ing of the nickname, saying: "What you remember of Anna does not belong to you. It belongs to you and Anna together. If Anna had wanted her current-day friend to know this about the past, she would have told her herself. Besides, when Maria tells Anna what she knows, Anna will be troubled. She will wonder what else you may tell Maria about the past." I conceded that Susan was right, and felt 'there was some deep wisdom in her comment. I continued thinking about it off and on for several days. I finally concluded that this apparition from my past had caused me to momentarily regress in my judgment in a way which I still regret. But it may be useful to describe how I reached this conclusion. In this way my medium--this article--becomes part of my message, that memory is a volatile and indeterminate thing. As a psychoanalyst I have learned the professional discipline of analyzing my own thoughts carefully whenever I feel troubled, lest my lurking disturbance throw me off balance in my clinical work. Initially I set out to trace my own free associations to the exchange about Anna's nickname and to Susan's subsequent reproach. The first thing I recalled was working in the novitiate of my order, and the secrets I had painfully held within. I then moved on to the memory of seeing the pain of the novice mistress when it got back to her what gossipy and critical-things the departed trainees had said about her to their relatives and friends. I had found the novice mistress a very difficult work supervisor, and I understood the diffuse anger of the disappointed, disaffiliated postulants and novices. I resolved, however, that if I ever left the order (as I afterwards did) I would keep its dirty laundry to myself. I simply did not want to cause such pain, and I cut off all mem-ories to guard against remembering and talking. I went so far in this that none of my in-laws even knew that I had spent ten years in the convent. Memory .is a volatile and indeterminate thing. March-April 1994 201 Greer ¯ Needed: An Ethic of Memories Another association that came to mind was to a recurring cur-rent- day announcement in my parish bulletin, inviting people to join a counseling group entitled "Adult Children of Dysfunctional Families." The invitation listed several questions. If one answered yes to these questions, the implication was that one should join this discussion group. I recalled that I always read the list of ques-tions with rising irritation and impatience. I am well aware that the answers to these questions can indicate a multitude of subtle or gross psychological difficulties. I also know that these diffi-culties are unlikely to be helped by ten sessions of parent bashing, however ghastly one's parents may have been. In fact, my experi-ence has been that such discussions often give persons with seri-ous characterological difficulties a new excuse to indulge in self-pity, instead of helping them to effect in themselves hard psy-chological changes. My thoughts then went to some students in my pastoral-coun-seling classes who seemed unable to learn anything abstract because their own memories were so enlivened by the class mate-rial. I had to work against the tendency of these few to turn the class into group therapy. This led my thoughts to my admiration for a student who came to me and said simply, "I don't want to go into details, but I'm dropping your class because it's getting me too upset. I'll take it again in two years, after I've done some work in therapy." I also connected my associations to my original contact with psychoanalysis. At that time I was aware of being quite depressed at the impending death of my mother-in-law and the illness of my young son. I went to my HMO (health maintenance organi-zation) for the twenty sessions of psychotherapy included in my employer's contract. After ten sessions the supervising psychia-trist threw up his hands and said, "Go have psychoanalysis. You spend half your energy avoiding mourning over the loss of your friends in the convent, so you cannot stand up under the pres-sure of the present. We cannot do anything for you in ten more sessions." I took his advice, found it helpful, and became so inter-ested in analysis that I ultimately became an analyst myself. So I had become a "specialist in memories," as a roundabout result of my original avoidance of memories! How did this con-nect to my indiscretion in sharing my memory of the meaning of Anna's nickname and to my subsequent discomfort? I spend part of each day listening to memories that are eatin, g 202 Review for Religious at my clients, my analysands. For their own personal benefit, I almost always discourage them from sharing these memories out-side the sessions. They would dissipate the emotional power gen-erated by private reflection and structured therapeutic work on their memories if they broadcasted them to friends and relatives. That emotional power would then be less available for real per-sonal change. Anger, grief, and disappointment are powerful emotions. In the psyche they are similar to oil or coal that can be converted to fuel, used as energy for action and redirection. Endless talk dissipates rather than concentrates this energy. But I have a second reason, an important ethical one, for discouraging people from sharing these old memories that they discover as we work in therapy sessions. Memory is a tricky thing. What we empha-size, and what we forget, depends not only on what happened, but on our intellectual capacities at the time of the event and on our ability to endure the truth. What we remember is seldom the whole story. Here is the advantage to keeping these memories within the therapy sessions. If kept within the treatment relationship, this potential discrepancy between past facts and current memories is simply more grist for the therapeutic mill. If we discover together a suppression of some aspect of the past, within the ses-sion we can very usefully explore why that bit of information was so carefully forgotten and what change has made it possible to remember now. The layering of memories is such a common-place that psychoanalysis has a special name, "screen memory," for a memory that hides behind it yet another, more traiamatic mem-ory. In a full-length analysis of a person with a traumatic but largely forgotten childhood, I have seen the "screen" layers turn out to be more than two deep. This constitutes an excellent i'ea-son for those in treatment to hold their tongues while continuing to trace the red thread through the tangled skein of their mem-ories. There is, however, yet another ethical aspect to the question of sharing a memory from treatment. Suppose the person in treat-ment decides to give a sibling a play-by-play description of the current status of the therapeutic work. Several major problems ensue, which seem to me to have important ethical dimensions. First of all, the listener may have shared some of the experiences What we remember is seldom the whole story. March-April 1994 ]03 Greet ¯ Needed: An Ethic of Memories in the recovered memories. But the listener may not have a ther-apist or other suitable confidant with whom to work through the feelings stirred up by these confidences. Even if the listener is a current-day friend who did not share the speaker's experiences, the friend .may have had similar experiences which are suddenly brought into working memory. In either case, this recollection occurs, not when the listener chooses and feels ready, but when the speaker thoughtlessly imposes this unexpected psychological task. This is one good reason that therapy per se is a profession and not a friendship task. Professional therapists have been trained to attend to their own intrapsychic reactions to the client's dis-course. The client realistically depends upon this aspect of the therapeutic contract in order to be free of the burden of caring for the therapist's psyche during the sessions. Moreover, the client need feel no guilt at all about burdening the therapist, because the client is paying the therapist to perform this intrapsychic task. It is the therapist's job to have recourse to self-analysis, peer supervision, or a resumption of personal treat-ment if a client's discourse about traumatic memories then arouses troubling feelings and memories in the therapist. To expect this same degree of accommodation from a friend would be exploita-five. Such concomitant self-care cannot be appropriately forced on a nonprofessional in order to make one's friend more "useful" in working through one's past. To force this task upon a friend would be appropriate reason to feel quite guilty. A very serious problem may follow the sharing of one's mem-ories outside of therapy as if they were firm fact. The uncon-scious operates by a set of "primary process" laws. The psychoanalytic term "secondary process" refers to our rational, adult way of thought processing and is roughly equivalent to "rea-soning." In contrast, primary process is the more primitive and imaginative way of thinking that takes place in dreams, creative productions, and memories. In primary process the part may be substituted for the whole, or vice versa; one person may be sub-sfituted for another, or one event for another, because of some yet unnoted logical connection between them. In dream analysis these connections can often be recovered by asking the analysand to systematically free-associate to each element (noun, verb, or adjective) of the dream narrative until the stream of associations runs dry. But in memories per se, often the missing or substituted elements become clear only much later, when the remembering 204 Review for Religious person overcomes resistance to a more accurate memory. The dangers of sharing the "interim drafts" of the final memory should be obvious. Terrible hurts may be imposed on the innocent. But suppose the memory is accurate and stands fast over time in the face of careful analysis? There still seems an ethical prob-lem in broadcasting such a memory. Memory by definition refers to the past. The persons in the memories have current-day rela-tionships with other innocent people. For example, suppose a sib-ling who molested you now has a wife and children. What good would be served by venting one's rage within the family and destroying the peace of the newer family members? One would be obtaining revenge, or at least emotional ventilation, at the expense of the innocent. Certainly the person who recalls experiences of victimization and exploitation has every right to establish a psychological dis-tance from the past abuser. But this can be done without sharing one's thoughts. Further, over the course of a long mental-health treatment or course of counseling, the analysand usually arrives at a position of compassion towards those who caused them suffer-ing in childhood. Even in cases of former physical or sexual abuse, the termination of treatment finds the survivors in a position of forgiveness combined with appropriate self-protection, rather than a position of vengeful attack. This psychological disposition is serendipitously not only more Christian, but also more life enhancing. As we approach the end of treatment, I have sometimes been thanked for insisting on the confidentiality of the ongoing treat-ment. In the heat of remembering, one may wish to confront one's torturers. But later, after the pain has been alleviated, an analysand is often grateful that some small but meaningful rela-tionship remains, for example, with parents who are now under-stood to have been pitifully impaired by their childhoods. After the incident of Anna's nickname, one result of my asso-ciative process was a new realization that middle-aged people who have been, or still are, in a religious order have not one but two families of origin. The usual past practice of admitting very young candidates means that many candidates completed adolescence and entered young adulthood with a second set of parents, the training staff. Moreover, the drastic changes involved in enter-ing a religious order could be expected to cause, and did cause, massive regression in many candidates. This means that, in effect, March-April 1994 205 Crreer * Needed: An Ethic of Memories they spent not only some of adolescence but even all of adoles-cence and some of a second latency period within the cloister. It would be theoretically likely that the usual mechanisms of for-getting childhood trauma, recovering it in garbled form, and feel-ing a need to work through it would be present When is a memory private, and when is it community property? When must it be told, when may it be told, and when must it be kept secret? in such people with regard to t~0 childhoods and two sets of parents. My reflection led me to include myself among those who had such a past and to recall that my main dissatisfaction with my training analyst had been his utter incapacity to imagine my life experience as a young religious. Thus Anna's nickname pointed me to a new task in my ongoing self-analysis. My second realization was a personal grasp of a dilemma'I have listened to many times from the victims of family crimes. When is a memory private, and when is it community property? W-hen must it be told, when may it be told, and when must it be kept secret? I had learned that this question may surface about something as large as incest or as small as a nickname. As in many of the subtle ethical dilemmas in life, there is no pat answer to this question. It is well to keep this in mind. Here a final memory linked with Anna emerged, and I under-stood another of the roots of my early resolve against giving pain by narrating private memories of my past convent experience. In this memory I was a novice, on vacation at a rustic seaside camp connected to a rural high school owned by the order. Along the length of the washroom wher~ I was brushing my teeth, there was a ventilation space just under the eaves, open to the cloister walk outside. Out on the cloister walk I recognized, among a group of visiting major superiors, the voice of the nun who had been principal of my school when Anna and I were students together. Another superior who did not know me mentioned my name. My old principal, who had not spoken to me in three years, remarked, "Oh, yes, that one is full of the Old Nick." My eyes filled with angry tears. I felt it was unfair to judge me at age eigh-teen by my behavior three years before. At that point in my current-day reflections, I realized that each of us is in a process of becoming. Those who have remem- ~06 Rwbiew for Religious bered us only by some static moment and then have passed out of our lives do seem to have an ethical obligation to keep their own counsel. After all, persons being impugned via the narration of memory may, in effect, no longer exist; they may be thoroughly different from the persons called to mind by the reminiscence. In any case, they deserve the benefit of the doubt. Participants in therapies which focus upon memories of years ago need to keep this in mind. So do ordinary folk, particularly as they age and their store of memories becomes larger and larger. Easter Lily Your bell is poised for announcement, green-white at first, the color of music not yet tongued. We have come to expect drama: spring's green entrance, the dandelion invasion, snow in the orchard, and those housewrens concealing their nest in the ivy-veiled oak. This morning you trumpeted six gold notes from your ivory cave, a fanfare for the resurrection from the dead. Avis Kunca Kubick March-dt~H11994 207 \~ILLIAM MOCKUS A Discipline of Self-Respect Forthose seeking direction in their spiritual journeys and for .1_ .those who journey with people seeking God's direction, how we use the word discipline needs to be given attention. Our assumptions about discipline significantly affect our spiritual exer-cises and practices. A few years ago a cartoon depicted one man saying to another, "Yes, I'd like to reach spiritual perfection as soon as possible; then move on to bigger and better things." Obviously, this perception of "spiritual perfection" relates more to ego achievement than to true spiritual growth. But, like most humor, what makes it funny is its nearness to truth. We desire to grow spiritually, but we are not sure of how or when the goal is reached. When asked what they desire at the beginning of a retreat or a spiritual-direction relationship, many people say a closer or more intimate relationship with God, a more faithful practice of prayer, or a sense of security around what they are already doing in prayer even though it may "feel dead" to them. Often, from what we have been taught and have come to believe about spiritual perfection, we assume that greater disci-pline, meaning greater self-control, will produce the desired spir-itual fruit. To pray well, we believe we must control our wandering imagination, our body, even our breath. We believe that, if we fdil ai' our discipline ot[ self-control, then we or someone else may judge our spiritual life, if not our entire self, to be a failure. William Mockus, a diocesan priest from Paterson, New Jersey, currently serves on the. retreat team at Bon Secours Spiritual Center. His address is Bon Secours Spiritual C.enter; 1525 Marriottsville Road; Marriottsville, Maryland 21104. 208 Review for Religious We have long recognized that, in developing most worth-while skills, some type of discipline is required. We assume, then, that living Christian lives "skillfully" must involve the "discipline" of putting the Jesus story into our everyday activity. But our image of God should not ignore Jesus' own activity at work within our lives as they are. Having such an image involves a different sort of discipline. Rather than straining to achieve a degree of spiritual perfection that will allow us to feel secure by sheer force of will, we need to seek a "disciplined faithfulness to our own advancing StOry." In the spiritual life the essential ingredient is relationship-- our individual relationship with God and our communal rela-tionship with one another in God. It is for the sake of these relationships that discipline is important, but only secondarily. In our growing-up years, it is important to learn some discipline, some self-control. Without "boundaries of behavior" for impulses and emotions, we would do much harm to ourselves and others. Good boundaries are important for developing ego identity and strength. For adults, however, it is a mistake to confine one's thinking about discipline to self-control. For people beyond young adulthood, viewing one's need for spiritual discipline as a function of self-respect can be more help-ful than striving after an unrealizable degree of self-control. In fact, spiritual (and emotional) growth may be more hindered than helped by too much of it. Mature Christians realize this. Increased self-respect comes from patient growth in God, not from aggres-sively building oneself up to self-perfection. Discipline for the journey is more a matter of trusting in the Spirit's movement than of standing tall or standing one's ground. We do not arrive at "spiritual perfection" as much as journey toward it in hope and faith. Here a healthy discipline of self-respect can prevent us from abandoning the quest for spiritual perfection in frustration because we lack enough self-control to arrive at some idealized point of our own choosing. This adjustment in our understanding of spiritual discipline can help us move from a success/failure model of spiritual life to one of ongoing progress. It is a call for respect of one's "true self" rather than control over one's imperfect self. The practice of self-respect, like most spiritual tasks, requires a real commitment to discipline. But it is a discipline that has patience for the grow-ing self's time of maturation and integration. March-April 1994 209 Mockus * A Discipline of Self-Respect People often perceive their lives as somehow overshadowed by what they have come to understand as their vocation or calling: the idealized notion of being a Christian, to be perfect as their "heavenly Father is perfect." Traditionally we have been taught to strive toward spiritual perfection in prayer and spiritual practices. Unfortunately, for us limited human beings, the reality of our many imperfections is often contrasted too harshly with the ideal. No matter how we struggle we always fall short of our desired perfection, and the ideal always eludes us. If self-perfection is the goal, the flawed reality of our lives usually confronts rather than comforts us in our spiritual quest. In terms of God's perfection, and our own expectations, we always fail. Nevertheless, thanks to the desire that God places at the core of our being, we keep. striving in one way or another to deepen the relationship with the One who is the source of all our desire. Yet, when we do not respect our own truth and wisdom, we too fre-quently seek some magical prayer discipline or some miracle that will deliver us from our failure-ridden struggle. If God wants us to be perfect, then more fervent prayer, or Jesus, or some spiri-tual director will help us finally achieve it--right? For those who seek "spiritual perfection," reaching the goal is constantly frustrated by human limitations. One's prayer disci-pline or acts of charity, one's responsibility to family or commu-nity, fulfillment of one's commitments or vows can never be as they should be because perfection moves as soon as it appears within reach. Considering what might be years of frustration in attempting to reach an idealized image of oneself, it is easy to understand some people's difficulty in determining how to improve their spir-itual practice or in ever finding the "comfort zone" of a commit-ted daily prayer practice. The built-in danger of a self-perception based on an ideal is that the reality of our limitations causes us to judge our efforts harshly, no matter how hard we try--unless in frustration we give up the quest. A typical response to what often feels like constant failure is grief or, worse, despair. In Vital Spiritualities Jerry Broccalo explains the distinction between a spirituality of the real and a spirituality of the ideal while recognizing the value of each. As with the rest of life, when it comes to our spirituality there is a radical difference between the ideal and the real. We too often confuse the difference. Despite the God-life within us, we are not God; weare not 210 Review for Religious perfect and cannot control everything in our life, especially its limits. A discipline of self-respect allows us to see the truth of our humanness more clearly. It requires that we discard the belief that our perfection is within our power. God is God; we are not. Our spiritual growth does not depend on our ability to control reality, but rather on our ability to surrender con-trol. ~ This surrender depends on our recovering what may be termed our "firsts." Making the shift from a discipline of self-control to one of self-respect is a matter of taking the right steps in sequence. One cannot skip the first step in the" process. We need to recover our appreciation of the first commandment, the first beatitude, and the first three steps of any twelve-step program thfit deals with addictions. Each of these firsts points to several parallel truths. We are not in charge, we need God, and we cannot control everything about our lives. The truth behind all of these firsts is that we are mor-tal and limited, as well as graced and saved. We cannot assume the power to judge or condemn ourselves for failures or wrong choices. Although we may judge an action or the lack of action as evil or sinful, it is God's domain to judge the person: Poverty of spirit, the first beatitude, requires that we real-ize exactly who is and who is not God in the human/divine rela-tionship. Because I know that prayer, exercise, and setting boundaries around my appetites are all essential for my well-being, for my "true self" to grow strong, I know that I need discipline, but not the discipline of self-control based on an ideal image of myself. Perhaps the most common temptation to idolatry is the ongoing desire to see myself only through others' .eyes. Butmy holiness depends on being my true self and worshiping the God in whose image I was made rather than a god made in my image. The discipline of self-respect compels me to do these things because .of what Christ has taught me about the reign of God within me. When I do not practice the discipline involved in liv-ing the Good News, I am being respectful of neither nay true self nor the gospel. If I do not pray or care for my body with proper diet and exercise, I need to look again at my spiritual discipline. But even then I have no right to condemn and crucify myself. A discipline of self-respect allows us to see the truth of our humanness more clearly. March-April 1994 211 Mockus ¯ A Discipline of Self-Respect Instead, in honest humility I can admit nay lack of self-respect and recommit myself once more to following the Lord rather than pursuing my idealized self. A discipline of self-respect calls me to constant conversion and does not allow me to assume divine authority over my own, or someone else's, failures. This discipline is one of true humility, and holds that human beings may not usurp God's authority. Maybe this is why the first commandment is the first, and the first beatitude is first, and why the same three steps are put at the beginning of every twelve-step recovery program. The first step is the need to recognize our dependence on God. The first steps in recovery, like the first beatitude and the first commandment, contradict the common belief that, if only we exercised enough self-control, we would pray better and live better and thus become more holy--and, pre-sumably, this level of spiritual perfection would make us more loved by God. This may be more a form of spiritual consumerism than a spiritually mature relationship with God in Christ Jesus. One may object that this type of spiritual discipline sounds too much like those theories which so casually justify the selfishness and self-centeredness of contemporary culture. From teachings learned in our growing-up years, it is easy to believe that all talk of self-respect promotes attitudes that are too self-centered. Admittedly, the danger of self-righteousness always remains with us, but it may be worth the risk to use the spiritual discipline I propose in the hope of gaining a more God-centered rather than self-center.ed view of what discipline is meant to be. The phrase "discipline of self-respect" may suggest imma-ture self-centeredness. People often assume that, if a spiritual dis-cipline does not involve self-denial, then it must be some form of narcissism. But such an ego-driven and immature sense of self is not what we are speaking about. We are advocating respect f0r one's "true self," as Thomas Merton uses the term, where the egoless self encounters the reign of God within one's life. In a conversation several years ago with Dr. Frederick Franck, I inquired about the Buddhist notion of decreasing one's ego desires and the Christian notion of dying to oneself. Dr. Franck responded that "first one had to have an ego." Before one dies to oneself, one must be a self or have what may be termed a' healthy ego, a sense of one's own true self. For the believer, Christ' is not only the image of the invisible God; he is also the image of our true self encountered within the reality of our lives, not in 212 Revie~v for Religious some unrealizable ideal. A discipline of self-respect is not self-ishness. It is a way to understand spiritual discipline as a call to die to one's false self-centeredness in order that one's true Christ-centeredness may be more fully realized in our lives. It is God's reign rather than our own that this discipline seeks. This call to be our "true selves" is always new and meaning-ful, no matter what age we are or in what stage of life we find ourselves. Whether we are young and need to control our impulses and urges, or mature and need to respect the truth of our real but limited lives, our spiritual discipline must reflect our experience of life and God. What is required in the spiritual jour-ney, if it is to be more God-centered than ego-centered, is a healthy and humble discipline towards one's true self. This disci-pline involves an ongoing quest for self-knowledge and self-respect and an openness to God's constant and loving call for conversion. If one's discipline of prayer or exercise or eating or working is to be tru!y healthy and whole, it must be balanced and con-gruent with one's true identity. It cannot be mere conformity to the images and masks we have held before us, whether these are images of perfect beauty or perfect sanctity. One's spiritual per-fection, then, is not a goal to be chalked up on a self-actualiza-tion chart. It is not a matter of self-mastery, but of self-surrender. The discipline of self-respect is a matter of surrendering to one's true self, encountered at the point of contemplative union with the God who made us just the way we are. Correction Do you know what the word KUMASI becomes when the spellcheck of a computer program encounters it? It becomes CHUMPS. Our apologies to the KUMASI diocese of Ghana mentioned in Susan Rakoczy's article "Charismatic Renewal and Consecrated Life" in our November- December 1993 issue, page 913. March-April 1994 213 ANNETE ADAMS A Transformational Journey May living room can be a cozy place in the winter. Making fire in the fireplace, watching the flames, listening to the crackle of wood, catching a glimpse of a spark breaking away, all move me into a very reflective mood. There is some-thing about a fire in a fireplace that captures my spirit and invites me to quiet. I began to think about images: fire, sun, wind, water, animals, insects. Since images have played an important part in my spiri-tual journey, I looked back to see what image has spoken most powerfully to me. That image is the butterfly. I began reflecting on the monarch butterfly about ten or eleven years ago. Did you know that in its caterpillar stage it can resist moving into the next stage? It can postpone moving into the chrysalis until the fol-lowing spring. This experience reminded me of a time I had been resisting a change in my own life and thinking of all the reasons why I was not the person for this new ministry. Why me? Why now? Why not someone else? I struggled for a long time and finally one day, too tired to fight anymore, I just sat and listened to some reflective music. As I listened, someone came into the room and told me of a wonderfulsight she had just seen. She had watched a beautiful monarch emerge from its chrysalis. She had never seen such a wondrous transformation. For me that was a very powerful moment, for it spoke to me of my own moment of surrender. It was not until I surrendered that I could begin to be free enough to say yes to what I was being Annete Adams SND has been a teacher and a formation director. Currently provincial secretary, she also gives retreats and does spiritual direction. Her address is Notre Dame Educational Center; 13000 Auburn Road; Chardon, Ohio 44024. 214 Review for Religious invited to do. Was this the beginning of another time in my life that was beckoning me into my own chrysalis, to a state of fertile emptiness, to a time of waiting, inviting a transformation? That image .and that symbol are still with me on my journey. I sit here now, in the midst of another transition time in my life, knowing it is time to let go, to move on, uncertain about what is ahead, and yet excited about what might emerge and bring new life and energy. I remember being on a week-long retreat and feeling as though I were a chrysalis. There was not a thought, a prayer, a song, or a gesture that spoke to me. I took a walk that day through a very quiet neighborhood and got lost. A monarch butterfly on the ground caught my eye. I went to look at it. It was dead. I remember picking up this fragile bit of creation, too beautiful to leave there, and holding it in my hand as I walked on, seemingly forever. I came to a park and sat on the grass, opened my journal, and drew what I saw; somehow it became a priceless gift for the day. At the end of the time I took it to a "safe place" where it would not be trampled on and then began my journey back. I remember sharing the incidents of the day with my director. I told her I could not even imagine why I was carrying, so care-fully, a dead butterfly. Her question to me was simple and yet profound: "Did you ever think that the dead butterfly was you-- the part of you that died, that is no longer--and that is why you carried it with you until you could let it go? I knew at once that the suggestion in her words and eyes was true. I had been look-ing outside myself for the answer when in fact it was within. As I reflected on this image later, I noticed near the fireplace a small sand castle. It had been given to me as a gift because of my great love for Teresa of Avila and her Interior Castle. I wondered if each dwelling place could be like another cocoon--a place of darkness, a place pregnant with all the possibilities of newness and a place of deep union between the lover and the Beloved--as it awaits its moment of transformation. Such a simple image and yet what profound insights! All this reflecting brought me to con-sider my own journey and' that of those on the road with me. I reflected on spiritual direction for this journey of ours. Have you ever watched the cycle of the monarch butterfly? To me it seems similar to what happens in spiritual direction. The journey is one of wonder and joy. The journey is one of searching, watching, waiting, mystery, and transformation. Marcb-.4pri11994 213 Adams ¯ A Transformational.yourney The egg of the monarch butterfly looks like a very, very tiny pearl. The Searching To get yourself a monarch-butterfly caterpillar, you would do well to look in a field, along the road, or in a garden for the milk-weed plant and then to examine its leaves and stalk carefully. The egg of the monarch butterfly looks like a very, very tiny pearl. You can take the leaf on which the egg rests and place it on a moist sponge; in time you will see a tiny caterpillar emerge to begin its new life. If you cannot find an egg, then you should look for an already hatched monarch caterpillar--with its eas-ily spotted black, white, and yellow circular bands--wherever it has left a trail of partly con-sumed milkweed leaves. Directees do their own kind of searching in spiritual direction. They search for a director who will help them unfold their real selves, one who will help them search out the truth, one who will love them for who they are and continually journey with them as they come to know a God who nourishes them on their journey. In spiritual direction directees search and find; they search and sometimes do not find; but they do not stop searching, no matter how painful it becomes. It is not the director's demand that makes this contihued search happen. It is their realization that God's search for them is much greater than their search for God because God's love for them is unconditional. The Watching If you really want to watch the monarch caterpillar in its var-ious stages, then you need to put the portion of the plant that the caterpillar is on into a large glass jar and cover it with some fine netting. The caterpillar moves all over the plant, continu-ally eating bits of leaqes, taking in all the nourishment it can for the journey. In very quiet moments, with your ear over the top of the jar, you can hear the sound of each bite. It is that kind of posture of attentive listening that is part of being a spiritual director. It takes many quiet moments to notice what is happening in a directee's journey. It takes the right setting, an atmosphere for growth, openness, and readiness for the jour-ney. The directees need to place themselves in a setting where spiritual direction can take place, to prepare themselves to be 216 Review for Religious receptive to however our God wishes to feed them with words, prayers, songs, or silence. The Waiting The caterpillar needs leaves from the milkweed plant every day. You can watch in silence each day for its constant growth-- watching it become larger and larger until one day it stops eating and begins searching for a place to attach itself so as to begin the mysterious and won-derful work of forming the chrysalis. I have watched for many hours in utter amazement at how care-fully the caterpillar walks around and around its container until it finds the place to fasten itself securely. Th

Issue 38.6 of the Review for Religious, 1979. ; I Will Be--Who I Am Traveling Light in Community: The Oratory St, Teresa, Contemplation and the Humanity of Christ Volume 38 Number 6 November 1979 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published bi-monthly (every two months), is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute: St. Louis, Missouri. © 1979 By REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A.: $8.00 a year: $15.00 for two years. Other countries: $9.00 a year, $17.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS: P.O. Box 6070: Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor November, 1979 Volume 38 Number 6 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Liturgical Spirituality Of Poets, Prophets and the Word Janet Schlichting, O.P. Sister Janet resides at 1314 West Market Street, Akron, OH 44313. The poet Rilke writes, "'For the sake of a few lines, one must see many cities, men and things." He then sets forth a long list of life experiences that will enrich Our treasury of memories, concluding, "Not until they have turned to blood within us, to glance, to gesture, nameless and no longer to be distinguished from ourselves--not until then can it happen that in a most rare hour the first word of a verse arises in their midst and goes forth from them."' Essential to the poet is the perceiving and savoring of life experience. So also is the turning to blood of what is perceived, and the "rare hour" when from that lifeblood springs forth a new word. The life experiences, the turn-ing to blood, the arising and going fortfi--these realities give to poetry its heart. It might also be suggested that these same three realities intertwine to give to prophecy its power and to ChristianitY, its truth. Whether we be poets or prophets or Christians, our call is to communicate. Those moments in which we express our identity are initiated, carried and concluded by the power of word. To all of us are entrusted words. To be human is to have words. Words are the creators and determiners and definers of our life situations. We have words to tell about ourselves, t6 build relationships, to express the meanings ' The Notebooks ofMalte Laurids Brigge (New York: W. W. Norton and Company, Inc., 1949). 801 802 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 and memories and hopes of our lives. Words are human but they are not to be taken for granted. Words are sacred because they are the means by which we grow, and by which we, in turn, nurture growth in others. Sharing with one another our feelings and understandings, we tell one another of new possibilities. Words are tools for building the human community, for forging our future. Words are as resilient as the human spirit that calls them to be. Thus, to have words is to have immense power. To have words is to bear a sacred trust. The most life-giving words are, in Karl Rahner's terms, "primordial words.''~ When a word breaks open reality for us, giving us new understand-ing and new vision, it is a primordial word. When it springs from the heart, when it whispers something of everything, and renders the pulse of infinity somehow available to us, its speaker is apoet--a poet made when the word is spoken. When the word comes howling out of the wilderness, cracking the veneer of our lives, illumining in the suddenness of lightning a raw and throb-bing truth, we have heard a prophet--a prophet made when the word is" spoken. Both poetry and prophecy are entrusted to Christians. They are two edges of the same sword, cutting through to reality. The one comes to birth in the blood within, arising and going forth. The other takes by storm, a power from where the person does not know, only that to speak is a necessity and not to speak is a torment: Woe to me if 1 do not preach the Gospel! (1 Co 9:16). Both poetry and prophecy are entrusted to Christians because a Word has been addressed to them: the Word of redeeming love spoken by the Father in Christ Jesus. We gather to hear and to celebrate this word in liturgical prayer. It is made known to us in and for our particular situation and now. The words 1 have spoken to you are spirit and they are life. (Jn 6:63). If you make my word your home., you will learn the truth and the truth shall make you free (Jn 8:32). When we speak of liturgical spirituality, we speak of three things: the grasping of life, the forging of identity and the going forth--the tasks of poets, prophets and every Christian. One task comes with us to worship; one occurs at worship; one follows worship. The primary truth that these activ-ities together express is the intimate welding of liturgy and life. The first concern of a liturgical spirituality is the way in which we take hold of life, the way we are disposed to our world. For, as the parable 2"Priest and Poet," Theologicallnvestigations HI (Baltimore: Helicon Press, 1967), p. 294. Liturgical Spirituality: of Poets, Prophets and the Word / 803 reminds us, the Word is like a seed. It must find a home. It must fall on good ground, that "good ground" of our lives which we bring with us to worship. And so we are called to question ourselves. Do we bring eyes to see and ears to hear? Do we bring our nights and days, our hungerings and thirstings, our growings, our rejoicings, our failings? Do we bring our brothers and sisters? Do we bring tax collectors and sinners? Do we bring hearts willing to be converted? Liturgy concerns itself with appropriating all of these: the gleaming and the tarnished; the cabbages and the kings; taking it all in--as the poet must do "for the sake of a few lines"--and affirming it. We do not affirm lightly or passively. A.ffirmation goes far beyond acceptance and is more than approval. To affirm, I must grasp hold of and ponder, and thereby allow my life experiences to turn to "blood within." The ability to affirm depends upon a sacramental understanding of human life. To view life sacramentally is to find holiness present in the everyday world of creation and human relationships, in the joys and sorrows and in the decisions placed before us, to realize our relatedness to one another and to the whole groaning creation. To view life sacramentally is to be able to find the glory of the Lord glim-mering, the Kingdom of God bubbling up in the goodness of a Samaritan to a beaten traveler and in the love of the father for his errant son. It is to have a care for mustard seeds and widows' mites, and to know the importance of yeast. '~ To view life sacramentally is not to deny pain and darkness, nor the con-tradictions we find within ourselves, nor our relentless pattern of fail-ure- nor the subtle weaving of sin into our social structures. These, too, are to be taken hold of in the sure hope that amid the terror of the storm at sea, and under the shadow of the cross, we can yet proclaim the triumph of life-over- death and love-over-hatred in the reign of God begun in Christ Jesus. What is this event called worship? The event called worship is the moment when Christians are made and ¢vhen they are made again into prophets and poets. It is a moment when we gather in response to the Word that calls us together, when we bring the ground we have prepared that the seed of the Word m.ay fall upon it; when, in the simple sharing of common things--the gifts of creation, we praise and we thank and we make memorial of the saving action of the Lord Jesus; when our eyes and ears and minds and hearts are again opened to the memory and presence and hope that undergird our lives. It is a moment--a "most rare hour"--when the Kingdom of God breaks in upon us and comforts and confronts us, consoles us and disturbs us, strengthens us, energizes us, and forges in and among usa new identity. It is a moment when we hear and see and taste what we are, and, when reaffirmed in our identity, given again a memory and a hope, we together become again --and more--the Body of Christ. It is a time, a "most rare hour" when, with the Word in our hearts and in ~104 / Review for Religious, l/olume 38, 1979/6 our mouths, we are sent forth to share what we have seen and heard and tasted. My word is not my own: it is the word of the one who sent me (Jn 14:24). Commissioned again as prophets and poets, Christians are entrusted with the Word. It is the nature of the Word to arise and go forth. There is no being called together without the being sent forth. Liturgy is inseparable from life. For the lot of us, the existential experience of worship is somewhat less than that described here. The way we have taken hold of our lives is not wholly affirming, the view we have of life is not always that it is "gift." The ground we present for the seed of the Word is not always too well prepared. In these and in other small ways the quality of our worship is compromised. Oh, we sing our "alleluias"; we say our "amens"; and yet we know well that it would be'a rare moment indeed for us to come bursting forth from worship proclaiming "The Kingdom of God is breaking in upon us!" And yet, that is precisely our commission: to proclaim to the world, "Behold your God!" It is a hard thing, this call. We find here the truth of our Christianity. It is not about privilege but about service and responsibility. And, faced with the utter ordinariness of people and problems, we drag our feet. On-again, off-again poets, part-time prophets. It is hard, preaching this Word entrusted to us, We have not just met the Risen Lord in the garden, so quite possibly we do not come running with his smile still warm upon us. We do not come pounding down the stairs from some upper room with the roar of wind still in our ears. And yet--our God has touched us. Still, in less dramatic ways we are called and sent, in less dramatic ways we can and do speak words of conversion and reconciliation. When the power behind our words is love, when the center from which our words come is a repentant heart, then our words can be a call to faith for others. So daily we arise and go forth: to love and to serve and to forgive; to wit-ness to the Kingdom; to confront our worl~ with its need of salvation; to reach out around us; to build Christ's Body; to strain forward to the fulfill-ment of God's promises. Liturgical spirituality is about becoming poets and prophets. It is about daily living with openness to the Lord's action in our lives. It is about the "turning to blood within us," the affirming of experiences and the forging of our identity in worship, where we gather to meet the Lord in word and sacra-ment. And it is about our going forth, entrusted with the Word. We are ordinary people with ordinary words. Yet, as erratic and clumsy as our speakings may be, we know this: God himself chose the.way of ordi-nary human flesh to make himself known to us. He is accessible to us in our sharings of faith with one another. This is what we proclaim to you: What was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have looked upon and our hands have touched--we speak of the Word of Life. Liturgical Spiritut What we have seen and heard we (1 Jn 1:1,3). And with the apostle Paul (ity: of Poets, Prophets and the Word / 805 ~roclaim to you, so that you may share life with us ve give him glory, ¯ . . whose power working in us can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine. (Ep 3:20). whose power at work in us can make us, in a "most rare hour," poets and prophets one for another. Morning Pra$,er 1 turn the corner of driest prayer to find you smiling amo.ng' the shining children in this raggdd, dusty land and crying with the weary women who carry albaby's body to its stones end, Bitter black~ against a sun-spoked sky. Five strong Icane cutters trudge the dirt sweat-stained sombreros, worn mache es. You'll be tl~ere, arms around them all the way ~o the burnt-black fields, while the silent Senora pleads for p~ennies, and you, a moment's caring¯ In the pla~.~, the youth are dancing. You are~young, Lord, you know the tune . Tonight weIhear a tragic story-- Husband g~ne and children hungry. Tears fall o~ the table-top. Jesus Lord! L~ke Bartimaeus, bhnd and begging, When will ~e truly see our land, Hear your ,footsteps, run to meet you, Find our Treasure, You in all,land all? Sister Wendy Cotter Apartado 460, Chiclayo, Peru Novitiate Formation Agostin Lovatin, C.S. In the course of his studies at St. Louis University's Institute of Religious Formation, Father Lovatin prepared a paper of reflection on novice-formation. He is presently Novice Director and a member of the formation team, residing at Sacred Heart Seminary; 3800 West Division Street.; Stone Park. IL 60165. The central message of the Gospel is a call to repentance and belief (Mk 1:15); it was addressed by Jesus to all those the Father was drawing to Christ. In a radical way it was meant for those whom Jesus chose to be his compan-ions, whom he would send to preach (Mk 3:14). The same call echoes still today in the lives of those the Lord chooses for the continuation of his mis-sion. It is a call to conversion. A radical conversion to God in our case is that process of the transforma-tion that our lives undergo in order to become the best instruments to serve our mission. This process comprises all the elements of what we call formation: prayer, vocation, religious life, priesthood, sending, aposto-late . These elements are harmoniously united together and interdepen-dent upon one another. They develop in due time under the direction of God who alone invites and fosters the new life when the person gives him full co-operation. Because the call and the action'are absolutely of God and depend on the cooperation of the person, the rate and the modality of growth are different from person to person because God in his infinite providence and creativity works through.the most unthinkable circumstances, even through the indi-vidual's unfaithfulness. There is no set order of steps through which this pro-cess takes place nor is there any way of telling beforehand which will influ-ence or provoke what. There isn't either any prefixed length of time that can 806 Novitiate Formation / 807 be made normative for the duration of formation. God's choice hnd man's response make up every time an unrepeatable and unique story. Reflection on the experience and charism of the Scalabrinian community, it seemed to me, could be fruitful in helping others to formulate for their own communities novitiate programs which would nurture and promote the nov-ices' identity with their own community charism and apostolate. Our novitiate program serves only a limited scope. It is normative in a very restricted sense: that is in the choice and updating of general principles and methods, according to the experience and the choices of the community. It is descriptive onlyin the sense that a stated program illustrates some of the stages of growth regardless of the real order in which they take place in the in-dividual because this will depend on the creative action of God and the re-sponse of the individual. Conditions for Entering the Novitiate Novitiate (noviceship) in its real meaning is the beginning of a journey, the first "yes" to God in one's heart; the beginning of a process of intimacy with the Lord that will end at the moment of death. Accordingly, there are conditions presupposed for admission to noviceship. Human Psychological Maturity. Grace presupposes nature. Before an in-dividual can tackle the vital questions that will radically affect the rest of his life, he must possess a psychological, intellectual, affective-sexual maturity that gives him a hold on his life and relieves him from the anxieties this de-velopment br.ings about. Only then can he give himself wholly to spiritual de-velopment. On this condition only can he and the community be safely assured so as to make the formal, mutual religious commitments to his following of the evangelical life in their company. In case the actual development of the personality by the time of noviceship leaves unexplored any significant portion of the major areas of development (intellectual, psychological, affective-sexual), the amount of self-knowledge required for a life-decision would be dangerously reduced and the value of the ensuing commitments would be certainly limited. Maturity means also having acqui~red a sense of independence that means a capability to run one's life in an adult manner. Responsible religious life ought not tend to create dependent people, but should take mature people and make them interdependent. Religious experience. The individual's determination of asking to start the period of noviceship should be understood only as a response to the God-who- calls. Consequently the candidate must have come in contact with the living God and felt his drawing. No matter how simple and unsophisticated this experience might have been, the candidate must have felt in some way the vanity of the world, its principles and values, and an initial attraction to a life of union with God. He must have seen himself as a creature and son of the Father who alone can satisfy all the longings of the human heart. There is no I~011 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 hope of success in the work of the novitiate if the candidate does not know experientially who God is, and does not believe that God can be taken as the absolute partner of his life. The encounter with the living God one way or other, must have generated some willingness to serve him. The individual must possess some concrete ideas about priesthood, religious life and what they entail. Along with this, there must be a sufficient knowledge of the special call to each congregation's particular apostolate: for us this would be the care of migrants. Part of the "yes" to God is the still-vague willingness to leave, to give up one's land and culture, the security of an earthly fatherland, so as to follow the call of those who are homeless and lost in a new country and culture. Goals of Novitiate. Learning how to pray, and prayer itself, is going to be the main goal of novitiate because prayer expresses and fosters the union with God which is going to be the primary reality in the future life of anyone called to an inti-mate cooperation with God. It is in prayer that a religious and priest finds his identity. It is in prayer God manifests and renews his call to him; it is in prayer that God reveals his action in the present and reveals concretely the ways and the means of the still-future apostolate. The apostolate is the salvific action of God in the world, an action that he chose to continue through the cooperation of those who respond to his call. The novice will express and deepen his prayerfulness through the various forms that enrich the Christian tradition. Most of all, he will be introduced to mental prayer, making acquaintance with different methods of meditation. He will experience various forms and, under the guidance of the director, he will search for that particular type which better corresponds to his needs and his character. Scripture will be opened to the novice. It will not be a study of the Bible, but the Bible as the source of the living word of God who revealed himself, and continues to reveal himself to anyone who listens with humility to his voice. Scripture will reveal a new dimension to prayer, and tune the novice into that highest form of prayer which is the prayer the Spirit offers unceasingly in the soul of the believer (Rm 8:26), The liturgy takes the novice into the core of the living Church that, united with her head, offers praise, intercession, pleas and thanks to the Father. The novice will thus share in the eternal priesthood of Christ who alone brings about the salvation of mankind. All apostolate, all building of the Church flows from and to the Eucharist; our apostolic action is the continuation, concretization and development of the action of Christ as.it takes place in the liturgy. Spiritual Direction. All spiritual growth is the action of the Spirit who moves and sanctifies. This action of God is always effective by its nature, However God chose not to force the response of man because he wanted a re- Novitiate Formation / 809 sponse of freedom aided by his grace. As a consequence, the action of God becomes efficacious only when received and accepted by an open heart. In formation, the most important person is the one being formed. He alone is solely responsible for his life. However it is a basic experience in the history of Christianity since its very beginning that this cannot be accomplished by the novice alone. Because of our nature, blinded and weighed down by sin, because of the novelty of the process, it is absolutely necessary to have a guide--one who has experienced the action of God and can direct the soul in its journey. When God moves in with his own light, and the soul is laid bare in its past and present poverty and sinfulness, the experience can be quite shattering. Only an experienced guide can lead the soul through this deep darkness, pointing out the enfolding grace that purifies, through desert and pain, the commitment to love God. God speaks to the soul but his ways are mysterious. The role of the director can be compared, at times, with that of the prophets of the O.T., or with that of John the Baptist: to point to the Lord, convey his message. He will never take the place of God, nor can he respond in the name of the direc-tor. He must keep faithful to his mission by staying out of the way in this inti-mate exchange between the Lord and the novice~ The spiritual director, be-cause of his own life of prayer and careful heeding sensitivity to the action of God in his own life, will help the novice to recognize the action of God in his soul, and help him to respond adequately. He will be in a better position to detect the Word of the Lord, as distinct from those other voices that will speak quite strongly; he will be able to show the novice when he is avoiding, or putting obstacles, to the word. He will encourage, console, advise, chal-lenge- according to the circumstances. He will be a witness and a proof of the everlasting love of God towards the novice. The ,novitiate will provide also other moments of intense prayer and re-flection, such as days of recollection, shared prayer, communal prayer, and other forms current today. Silence. To help set the climate for a gradual focus from the exterior to the interior, from self-centeredness to God-centeredness, it is necessary that there be a constant attitude of recollection and silence. The novitiate will not succeed in its goal if it does not provide an atmosphere of solitude and quiet. The novice has to be free from pressure from the outside to be able to come in contact with his self and find there the privileged place of his encounter with God. He must avoid all distractions that keep him from facing his interiority. Even the necessary amount of leisure and work have to be chosen in a measure that help him to re-create his spirit, not upset and disturb it. At this point he will be invited to a revision of values and priorities in his own life. The society and culture we live in are spasmodically craving for ex-terior action, motion, productivity, noise . There is deeply ingrained a dreadful fear of facing oneself and coming in touch with the core of the per-son. Solitude, peace, interiority, inner motivations are not appreciated. 810 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 Maybe the reason is to be found in the great deal of pain, loss, and confusion caused by the discovery of the dark side of our being. Fear of pain and run-ning away from our self become an excuse and a protective shield that impede going a further step. Silence and solitude will break the circle that keeps peo-ple stuck in this withering rut. Once that we find the courage to risk the loss of superficial well-being and face ourselves, a healing process can take place, and release the vital forces that we constrict in the recesses. A spiritual life be-comes possible. Then the real self emerges in all its riches and creativity from within. Our basic poverty of spirit and incapability of being and doing will open to an encounter with God. Sl~eeit'ic Formation. God revealing and recognized in prayer will start supplying a deeper awareness of a mission to which he will prepare those whom he calls to his in-timacy and service. He will let the novice know that while he calls him to serve and build the universal Church, he wants him to do so in a very specific manner by being the universal Church to migrants. Consequently God is going to renew the call he gave to our founder presenting once more the field of migration as the portion of the Church to which he will send him to har-vest the flock that needs to be gathered and tended. This. is going to be his mission and his name in the Body of Christ (I Co 12:12-26). At this point the novice is ready and willing to receive more formal input about the specific vo-cation and the specific religious family which he is about to enter. The biography of the founder and his writings will provide a model of the call and how to respond to it. The priestly and episcopal ministry of Bishop John Baptist Scalabrini, a man of great union with God, was consequently a man of great dedication and compassion; his work to establish the congrega-tion', his apostolic ideas, his ecclesial openness, his hatred for compromises, his charity that knew no limits, his love for the Church and loyalty to the pope, were to become the prime inspiration and rule in the lives of his fol-lowers. The unfolding of salvation history is mediated through the free response of individual persons (Adam, Abraham, Moses, Mary.) whom God chose as representatives of the whole people and instruments of his blessings. Even in the present time the Church is thus enriched with new charisms by the same Spirit. John Baptist Scalabrini is one of those "whom the Lord calls to be the unique and fitting instruments of his deep, mysterious and providential plans in the world" (G. Toniolo). During his pastoral visits to his diocese he was met with the tragic reality that follows upon migration. By the thousands, his people, because of extreme poverty and a time of political turmoil, were forced to leave their homes and land if they wanted to survive and have a bet-ter future for themselves and for their families. The pain of separation was not the hardest. From the moment they left their towns and villages, their Novitiate Formation / 811 journey was a nightmare, not only given the conditions of the day and their inexperience, but mostly because they were without protection, becoming the easy victims of agents of immigration, lodging owners and travel companies. The crossing of the ocean itself very often became a bad adventure. The new land, once reached, became very soon much less than the place they were foreseeing in their dreams. They found, all too often: --inhuman working conditions --unscrupulous bosses --abominable living conditions --discrimination, loneliness --abandonment by the government of their own country Even when their financial situation was more adequate, their isolation, caused by their ignorance of the language, lack of education, the difficulty of adjusting to different customs and mentality, all these would produce a profound and shocking disorientation. What primarily touched the sensitivity of Bishop Scalabrini was the al-most absolute absence of the Church at the side of the immigrants. He knew that this was hurting them the most. Some even let him know directly. "Tell our Bishop that we are always mindful of his counsels, tell him to pray for us and to send us a priest, because here we live and die like animals. !" (Scalabrini, L'Emigrazione Italiana in America, Piacenze 1887). "That mes-sage," reflected Scalabrini, "from my faraway children struck me as a re-buke." It found a response in his heart: "Faced with this lamentable situa-tion . . . I confess that I blush with shame, I feel humiliated, as a priest and as an Italian, and I ask myself again: What can be done to help them?" (ibid.) His plan of action, and his dreams, were as wide as his vision of faith. He devised a society, the Saint Raphael Society, composed of lay people who would take care mostly of the social and material welfare of the migrants. They were to assist them at the ports of departure and arrival. His mission-aries would assist the migrants not only religiously but also by founding schools and other centers of education and culture. Once this assistance would be established, he saw a new society being born. Emigration, for him, was not to be the mere flux of indigent working forces to more affluent countries to be absorbed in them, but an exchange of cultures to form a new civilization made rich by the best that the world could offer. He saw the world being united by ties of friendship. He also envisioned a missionary expansion of the Catholic faith, given the reality that most of the well-to-do countries were Protestant. It is a fact that national affinity was one of the driving forces that was moving him to action. However, especially after having visited his first 812 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 missions in the United States and Brazil, his vision took the dimension of the universal Church. Besides having accepted a Polish priest to be sent to assist the Polish community in Boston, he began negotiations with the Holy See to start a new Roman Congregation (Congregatio Pro Emigratis Catholicis) and he wrote the draft of the document that would establish it. In the history of our congregation, the novice sees how the action and providence of God has worked in the concrete through the cooperation--and even the weakness--of its members. Both the glorious pages and the dark ones will equally show that our work is the work of God, that he and he alone is the bestower of the good gifts. He had led us through a period of purification and confusion to a clarification of his will in our regard. The present history of our religious family studied under the light of faith should reveal the same traits in its constant effort for continuation, renewal and purification. The place where we find the plan of God for us today is our Constitu-tions. The novice will study and interiorize them with veneration and humil-ity. They contain the spirit of the founder made concrete, and translated into the language of our time to fit our present situation. The constitutions be-come the ~erm of comparison, renewal and challenge for each member of the congregation. From what has been said above, it follows that right at the core and source of our vocation and consecration there exists a tension between two poles. God calls each one to himself, with the absolute exclusivity of any oth-er creature. However he calls to service and witness. The call itself is basically bifocused. Because love of God is genuine only when it becomes love of neighbor, and love of neighbor is charity only if it is love of God, we will have to be balanced between contemplation, and the apostolate, solitude, and being with people, God-centeredness, and people-centeredness, being in the world, yet not of the world. Any attempt to simplify and resolve these tensions destroys the uniqueness of the divine call and makes the person a pure social activist, or a sterile misanthrope. Since the beginning of the process of formation, the novices have to be made aware of, and begin to realize in their lives a balance between the two poles of tension. One feeds the other, influences the other, and makes the other effective. Any apt way to practice this difficult exercise is to expose the novice to the genuine apostolate of the congregation. The purpose is not to learn the ropes or to acquire professional skills but precisely to test oneself on how to do God's work. The exercise of the apostolate does not depend on personal resources but on the grace of God and discovering how to pray, not as a solitary exercise, but in order to continue and carry out the work of crea-tion and redemption. Evangelical Life. Our founder, at the time of establishing the character and distinctive traits of our community, wanted us to become a full-fledged religious congregation. However it does not seem that he handed down to us Novitiate Formation / 813 religious life as some standardized form. Rather, looking at the apostolate, he understood that to perform it there was only one way possible: the Gospel. We understand it more clearly today when we identify religious life as a call to discipleship. Bishop Scalabrini, for his part, never found a better qualifi-cation for his missionaries than to call them "apostles" in his letters and in his conferences. He understood chastity as a condition that made the priest totally available in his ministry to his people, because he has dedicated himself to God with an undivided heart. So great was his conviction on this point that he hardly mentioned chastity in his writings to the missionaries. It was an in-dispensable, undiscussed principle. Most of all, the genuine charism of chastity was eminently present in his own heart. His soul bears the fruits of his life-bearing love. As a young priest he wanted to become a missionary to India. He was sensitive and available to the needs of every sort of people: deaf-mutes, rice pickers, those stricken by famine and cholera. Most of all his fre~edom and wholeness were witnessed by his episcopal ministry: the Chris-tian love he showed his people up to the summons to provide for migrants. Being himself poor and detached from possessions to the point of sacrific-ing readily what could be considered necessary to his position, and even what was most significant and dear to him, he saw poverty as a basic condition for the efficacy of a ministry among migrants. Unless the missionary were de-tached from riches, he could hardly dedicate himself to his ministry, and he could hardly preach among the poor about the poor Christ. One of the main traits of Scalabrini's life was his obedience and loyalty to the pope and to the Church. The practice of this virtue caused him the most bitter sufferings during his life. However he professed that, without intimate union with the Church, there was no way to carry oiat the will of God that is the plan of salvation. To this purpose his writings to his missionary excur-sions contain numerous exhortations to obedience, obedience to Bishops as heads of the local Church. Evangelical virtues. From his biography we learn that, besides these three virtues and vows, his union with God made the bishop rich in evangelical qualities that made of him a true follower of Christ: humility, prudence, meekness, availability, compassion, tender love, loyal friendship, firmness, courage, sacrifice, patience, zeal for the house and honor of God, self-sur-render, love for beauty, peace. Most of all he was ready to lay down. his life for his people. In fact it is known that it was because of his strenuous work in his diocese and through the visits he paid to his missionaries and migrants to America that his life was considerably shortened. Community living. In the writings of our founder to his missionaries he stressed the point of community life as a necessity. He saw it flowing from the call to unity with Christ and the Church that makes every apostolate pos-sible. He saw in it the means to provide the mutual encouragement and sup-port that the hardships and the dedication to. the apostolate would require. I~14 / Review for Religious, l/olume 38, 1979/6 Our evangelical life. When the Lord calls a person to perform a mission, he measures his gifts and charisms to the same mission. Those who are called to continue in Christ the work of salvation are called to a life of identification with Christ, to reproduce his life and ministry as we find it in the Gospel. We saw this happening in the call of our founder who was reading the quality of life-style for himself and his missionaries into the plan of salvation for that particular portion of the Church in which he was called to be active. Our way of reproducing the evangelical life is determined by our mission and dedica-tion to migrants. As we have a special charism of service, so we have a special charism of witness to the life of Christ. Chastity. Our dedication to God with undivided heart in chastity opens our lives to love and to service making it possible for us to leave our family, friends and even our land in order to be completely available at all times. In this condition, we are free to love and to give ourselves to those whom we are called to serve. Our dedication to them. in the Lord will be radical enough for us to dare to spend all our life and energy in serving them. Our love is a free gift, selfless and self-sacrificing. We discover the beauty that is in every per-son. Our Christ-like love will blossom in friendship which is one of the best gifts God grants to a person. Our friendship will not be the satisfying of a craving, the filling of a gap inside our heart, but an overflow of grace from the abundance:of God's love for us. However the novice will learn, even from experience, that his call invites him to purify his heart, at all times, of every human attachment, and to put his trust in the Lord alone: "Cursed the man who trusts in human beings, who seeks his strength in the flesh, whose heart turns away from the Lord" (Jr 17:5). Poverty. The poverty that we profess is a sign and a means to achieve that poverty of spirit that is our human powerlessness and weakness of creatures before the Lord. It makes humility and truth the necessary starting point to recognize the absolute power of God in our life, and to make us docile instru-ments in his hands. When we are poor in spirit we recognize that everything that we are and have is a gift of God, not to be grasped at, but to'build the Church with. The idea that God is the "owner" of everything will also teach us to share among all the children of God. By contrast, we understand that human sinfulness tends strongly to appropriate jealously the gifts of God and use them as a weapon of division and exclusion. Even higher gifts like educa-tion and culture become instruments of oppression and division. The introduction of the novice to poverty will start from the appreciation of material thihgs, their purposes and value, in order to lead him to see all things as gifts, discovering their native tendency to lead back to their creator and giver. Learning the difference between grateful use and possession, he will relish everything with gratefulness. This exercise will soon reveal to him how easy it is to become attached and to accumulate; this difficulty will open him to the idea of necessary renunciation, purification, self-examination. .Novitiate Formation / 815 Poverty is not to become a game or a reason for a more subtle buildup of pride and superiority, but a means of liberation and fraternity. A real appre-ciation of poverty will be shown in the simplicity of life-style. Our call to serve the migrants, to welcome the stranger, requires a deep faith in the na-tive dignity of man even when he is deprived of goods and education. The novice will be ready to dispossess himself of all the prejudices and false priv-ileges that accompany his own culture. To become migrant with the migrants means to participate in their struggles, appreciate the true values of their cul-ture from the depth of one's heart and share their homelessness and rejec-tion. Obedience. In his prayer, the novice will be drawn to know and to value the will of God as the only lead in his life, the will of God that is to bring ev-eryone to salvation in Christ. The life of union that he is called to realize will enkindle in him the strong desire to conform himself deeply to this will of God. Our community and the Church are both committed to this will of sal-vation that constitute them. He will learn that God speaks and reveals himself to everyone if each would put himself in a humble, listening attitude before him. However God never prescinds from the mystery of his will to bring everything under Christ's headship (Ep l:9-10) so that his plans for an individual is always in harmony with the building of the body. The novice will gradually learn that God speaks also through the Church and the com-munity. As a consequence he will make every effort to keep alive and oper-ative the bond that ties him to the Church and to the community in order to become a living branch (Jn 15). Union with God and the Church should blossom in unity among the members of our community. Not any type of community corresponds to our needs. Our community is found in the Word, and gathered by the Word. Its members feed on prayer that they share, renewing themselves constantly in it. Our community is the center of irradiation for our mission. The quality of life that enlivens our communities is the fraternity in Christ that will show the migrants that Christ was born and is risen through being mindful of one an-other, carrying each other's burdens, encouraging, challenging and correct-ing one another; through exercising our welcome among ourselves we will be able to welcome the stranger. By the lives of our members, our communities should give the same corporate witness that our individual lives are called to give. Besides these three headings, our religious life, as a call to discipleship, covers all the virtues that characterize the life and the teachings of Christ. The Scalabrinian in particular cultivates humility, the fruit of his poverty; availability, his openness to people and cultures that are different; patience with those who are ignorant, understanding and appreciation of diff6rent ways, customs and practices; gentleness, a welcoming spirit, simplicity of life, love and respect for those who are poor and simple, the spirit of sacri-fice, and a readiness to move on when our charism calls for it. Religion Can Be a Bad Trip The Psychology of Evangelization Gillian Straker Dr. Straker's last article, "Psychotheraphy: Its Potential and Limit," appeared in the March, 1979, issue. She is a senior lecturer in the School of Psychology, University of the Witwater-srand; 1 Jan Smuts Ave.; Johannesburg; 2000 Republic of South Africa. n the February 1979 issue of HIS' the~'e appeared an article entitled "Reli-gion Can Be A Bad Trip." The article dealt with the high rate of student dropout from evangelization campaigns. It went far beyond statistics to quote what students had actually felt about their experiences. One of the rea-sons students gave most frequently to explain their negative feelings toward religion was that they had become disillusioned with the very people who had first introduced them to it. The article went on to encourage these "religious casualties" to give it another try. In offering this encouragement the follow-ing suggestions were made: Evaluate: has the Bible itself molded your experience or have you been the product of family, school or other people? Make your own decisions. Grow up. They (whoever they be, false Christians or true--a human authority) have been telling you what to do. Now start deciding for yourself. Don't let your encounter with a weak or sickly Christian (or group) cheat you of finding the Truth that can set you free:. 'An inter-varsity Christian Fellowship magazine. -'Stephen Board, "Religion Can Be a Bad Trip," HIS, Feb., 1979, Vol. 30, No. 5, p. 5. 816 Religion Can Be a Bad Trip: The Psychology of Evangelization / ~117' At one level these admonitions seemed to make sense. In essence they di-rect the individual back to examining his relationship with God which is the obvious source of true spirituality. Further, they point out that if one turns away from God one cannot blame others; one has to assume responsibility for one's own actions. At another level it struck me as sad that these admonitions were necessary at all. The advice given that disillusionment with the representatives of reli-gion should not be generalized to include God, or all his representatives for that matter, is sound. However, the painful question that is left unanswered is why the level of disillusionment among erstwhile converts is so high. To search for an answer to this question would seem to be imperative. As Christians, we acknowledge that successful evangelization has its source in God, but we also a_ccept that conversion can be and often is medi-ated through human means. In this regard if the reports of the "religious casualties" are to be taken seriously, it would seem that we who are supposed to be mediators are failing, at least partially, in our roles. Furthermore, the indications are that we are failing, not because we make no impact, but be-cause having made an impact, we do not follow it up in a meaningful way. It is important to question the reasons for this. Naturally there are practical considerations to be taken into account. It would be very time-consuming to follow up every individual who merely indi-cated that he had been reached in some way. This perhaps could be used validly to excuse some degree of the neglect of which we stand accused. How-ever, perhaps the major factor involved in our failure to follow up individ-uals whom we have invited to respond to God rests rather on an oversight on our part regarding the process that is involved in conversion. An invitation to conversion is, of course, an invitation to something that has ultimate value and lasting meaning. It is on this that we usually focus, and, in so doing, we may often see little need to give ongoing support to a person to whom we have offered such a splendid gift. However, by focusing on this end point we may well have lost sight of the whole process that is involved in conversion. Conversion is a process not an event, and therefore evangelization itself should also be conceptualized in terms of process and not event. Doubtless most people involved in evangelization do know this. However, it is easy, in one's enthusiasm to impart the good news or to get others to see one's point of view, to lose sight of the fact. There might well be point, then, to restate some of the known facti~al and experiential aspects of the process of conversion. Carolyn Osiek, R.S.C.J., writing'about what must be the most famous of all conversion experiences, that of St. Paul, draws attention to several issues prominent in the process of conversion.3 One such important issue is that 'Osiek, C., "The First Week of the Spiritual Exercises and the Conversion of St. Paul," RfR, Sept., 1977, Vol. 36, No. 5. 818 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 Paul's transformation did not happen overnight. She points out that Paul himself spoke of a lapse of three years before he began to preach Christ (Ga 1 : 18). Thus Osiek emphasizes one essential element of the conversion experi-ence: it takes a long time. This is a vital fact to remember. Clearly, then, evangelization is not successfully completed when the indi-vidual first repents, requests baptism or initiation into the Church, or indi-cates by some other means that his heart has been touched. Rather this should be regarded as only the starting point. Thus, if evangelization is to be meaningfully completed or brought to full fruition in regard to. this indi-vidual, the need for ongoing support is clear. This is especially true if the evangelization process has netted people who are particularly vulnerable. Eric Hoffer, in his book, The True Believer,4 points out that people who have weak egos or are under stress to begin with are often those most likely to respond to high-pressure political or religious movements. These people, in their search for answers, are usually extremely willing to believe authorized "representa.tives" of the faith. They are keen to join any group which holds out hope of providing answei's to the pressing problems of their lives. This fact, viz., that they have embarked on a religious excursion more out of a need for answers or for a group affiliation than out of a true understanding or personal calling, does not make the evangelizer less responsible for them.Rather, it makes his responsibility even greater, since their very vulnerability and need make him even more responsible by virtue of his original choice to hold out to them the hope of a solution to their problems. The evangelist cannot withdraw simply because his converts did not turn out to be the kind of persons he hoped them to be. Withdrawal would indicate a greater concern with getting the convert to conform to the evangelist's expectations rather than with helping him, within his own limits, to respond freely to God. The difficulties in helping another respond to God without having one's own ego invested in the process are manifold. A close look at church history amply illustrates the extent to which power motives can underpin the determination to evangelize others. Of course, not all individuals who respond to evangelization campaigns do so out of some affiliation need or some need for instant answers. There are individuals for whom evangelization merely clears the path, so that God's call can be more deeply and clearly felt. In instances such as these, where the individual is primarily responding to a personal call from God, it is much more likely that he will survive with or without human support. In fact, he may ultimately be stronger for not having received such support. This, how-ever, should never be used as an excuse for not offering it. The emotional and psychological cost involved in sustaining a conversion experience is not to be underestimated. Osiek, in her articleon Paul makes this explicit. She. points out that Luke's image of blindness approximates in ~Ciled in HIS, op. oil. Religion Can Be a Bad Trip: The Psychology of Evangelization / 1~19 physical terms what must have been Paul's psychic state for some time. She discusses the fact that he must have experienced "confusion, loss, fear, inner chaos, spiritual paralysis, the terrifying feeling that his whole world was com-ing apart. "~. When one considers this description and realizes that it is part and parcel of the process which one is inviting another to undergo, the enormous re-sponsibility involved in extending such an invitation becomes self-evident. That conversion involves psychic trauma is further indicated by the psy-chologist, William James, in his book The Varieties of Religious Experience.6 James, in discussing the psychological component in conversion, acknowl-edges that positive emotions, like love and security, may be involved. But he also points out that the explosive nature of these emotions, experienced as in-tensely as they are in conversion, seldom leave psychic structures as they had been. A fundamental reorientation of psychic structures is a common occur-rence attendant on conversion. That the reorientation of psychic structures can be an excruciatingly painful experience has long been recognized by psychotherapists, who, like evangelists, also work for personal change, albeit of a different nature. In recogniton of the pain involved in change, psychoanalytically oriented psychotherapists prepare to commit themselves to patients they take into therapy for an average length of three-to-five years. During this time the patient is very often seen, at the very least, once a week. This is not meant tO imply that evangelists should be prepared to do the same thing. It is fully recognized that while therapy has only human resources to rely on, conversion relies on God and has its ultimate source in him. How-ever, the point being made is that on a psychological level, therapists recog-nize that the shedding of one's old self is always a painful process, even when one is moving toward a higher level of integration and functioning. If this is the case when one in therapy is changing in a fairly limited way, how much more so should it be true in the case of a person undergoing a radical trans-formation, such as is demanded by conversion. St. John of the Cross was well aware of what was involved, and of the delicacy with which such situations need to be handled. Although the follow-ing was written in the context of spiritual direction and the progressive conversion involved in contemplative prayer, it has great relevance to the present discussion. St. Johrl of the Cross wrote as follows:7 The affairs of God must be handled with great tact and open eyes, especially in so vital and sublime a matter as is that of these souls, where there is at stake almost an infinite ~Osiek, C., op. cir., p. 63. ~James, W., The Varieties of Religious Experience (Fontana Library: Glasgow., 1960L 'St. John of the Cross, Living ~-'lanle of Love in Kavanaugh, K., Rodriguez, D. (trs.). The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross ( W~ishingt on, 1973). 820 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 gain in being right and almost an infinite loss in being wrong. This statement eloquently summarizes the whole point of this article. If the affairs of God were handled with the great tact and open eyes suggested by John, there would certainly be fewer religious casualties and less need for articles such as that in HIS. As it is impossible to add to St. John's statement in this matter, perhaps this article should conclude on that note. However, having stressed human responsibility to the full, lest we should err at the other extreme and see the conversion of another as being wholly within our own power, perhaps it would be better to conclude by reacknowledging that, in all things, "the overflowing power comes from God and not from us" (2 Co 4:7). Now Available As A Reprint Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development b\' Philip D. Cristantiello Price: S.60 per copy. plus postage. Address' Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Religious Formation and Social Justice Stephen Tutas, S.M. Very Rev. Father Tutas is Superior General of the Society of Mary (Marianists), an office which he has held since 1971. Since 1975, he has also been President of the USG Commission Justice and Peace. He resides at the Curia Generalizia Marianisti; Via Latina 22; 00179 Rome, Italy. We have all witnessed the steady development of the movement to pro-mote justice and peace. For myself, shortly after I came to Rome in 1971, one of the first meetings I attended was organized by the Pontifical Commis-sion Justice and Peace at which the Presidents of the Unions of Superiors General, Father Pedro Arrupe and Sister Mary Linscott, asked the Superiors General to urge their religious to follow up the 1971 Synod document on Justice in the World by active participation in the various justice and peace groups that were being organized on national and diocesan levels. We know that since then religious men and women have distinguished themselves not only by their invaluable collaboration with the local Church but also by their own initiatives and expressions of religious leadership in this field. We know, too, that not all these initiatives were always looked on favorably by others, both within the communities and beyond. But we als6 know that there was a gradual purification of motives and clarification of strategies leading to an ever increasing official endorsement of these movements both by the religious communities in their general chapters and also by the local ordinaries and national conferences of bishops. Today we find ourselves in the mainstream of one of the most important movements in the history of the Church. The promotion of justice is now seen to be an integral part of evangelization and has even been called by some a constitutive element of contemporary religious life, If ever it were, the pro-motion of justice is simply no longer an option for religious--as though it 821 822 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 were merely an added feature to the preaching of the gospel. We now see that the promotion of justice is part of the Good News we are called to announce to the world today. We are living in an important period in the history of the Church, one in which the commitment of religious takes on special significance in an-nouncing the gospel to the world in a way that touches the lives of all men and women. The message that we bring to the world is not new, but we are finding a new way to respond to the needs of the world. The whole movement of justice and peace is simply the consequence of the truth that the Church is in the world, and is concerned about the total life of all men and women. In this article I want to comment on some trends that refer especially to this comparatively new dimension of religious formation, the preparation of religious for a greater commitment to social justice: I. Formation is a lifelong process. 2. Prayerful reflection on the gospel inspires social action. 3. Formation at all levels implies serious and systematic study. 4. Reflection on one's personal experience of justice and injustice neces-sarily complements the study of the social doctrine of the Church. 5. The integration of prayer, study and discernment leads to action. 6. Formation prepares for collaboration with others. Formation is a Lifelong Process There was a time when we identified the term "formation" with "initi-ation." Today we understand that the quality that needs to be developed in our life is the capacity for continued growth. Everyone has a built-in tendency to stop growing. Part of our work with others is to assure the conditions for continued growth and to stimulate the desire for this. The goal of a good formation program is not a finalized position but openness to change. The application of this trend to the issue of social justice is evident. We are all learning. Here, more than anywhere else, initial formation is a preparation for ongoing formation. The most important skill to be acquired is learning how to continue learning and to develop that wonderful capacity for continued growth in our lives. Prayerful Reflection on the Gospel Inspires Social Action The most controversial element in the promotion of justice is the discern-ment of motive. Many men and women, including religious, are committed to justice primarily as a humanitarian reaction to injustice. This is certainly a good motive, but Christians should find their fundamental motive in the gospel itself. It is this quality of our motivation, this faith dimension, that must distinquish our commitment to justice. We must never lose sight of the fac~ that the promotion of the integral development of man is related to Religious Formation and Social Justice / 823 evangelization. The ultimate goal of all our activity in building one world must be the explicit proclamation of Jesus Christ. What this means is that we must become more and more men and women of prayer. It is in our personal union with God that we sense the call to go to others with the message of Good News and with a helping hand. Nor must we take refuge in a kind of prayer that is divorced from action simply because the challenge is overwhelming. An important biblical orientation is given to us in the narrative of the multiplication of loaves. The disciples felt that their resources were ridiculously limited in the face of the great need of the people, but Jesus simply asked them to begin and to do what they could. The miracle of multiplication followed upon this act of courageous good will and unquestioning faith. In our programs of formation we must continually refer to faith as the motive for justice and show how this faith is translated into action. Formation at All Levels Implies Serious and Systematic Study Although study is not a new trend in formation, it takes on special mean-ing today when programs of formation are necessarily individualized and geared to the development of personal responsibility. With regard to prepari,ng our religious for a greater commitment to justice, we find that the gospel motive for this is developed further in the documents of the Church. The Catholic social teaching of our time is remarkable. There is "nothing comparable to this in the world today. It is a special gift the Church can offer to all men and women of good will. But we have to study this doctrine. And the habit of serious and systematic study must be inculcated from the very beginning. I do not want to suggest an impossible !ist of documents but I do find the following to be absolutely necessary elements in a basic ,program of formation: 1. Gaudium et Spes 2. Populorum Progressio 3. Evangelii Nuntiandi 4. Redemptor Hominis To these must be added the 1971 Synod document Justice in the World simply because of its timeliness.' To the study of these documents of the Universal Church must be added 'If a textbook presentation is desired, there is in English Monsignor Joseph Gremillion's master-ful study, The Gospel of Peace and Justice, which presents Catholic social teaching since Pope John. Incidentally, Msgr. Gremillion deserves the gratitude of all religious for recognizing the strategic importance of religious communities in the movement to promote justice and peace throughout the world. During his period of service as Secretary of the Pontifical Commission Justice and Peace, Msgr. Gremillion made, through the Unions of Superiors General, special efforts to sensitize religious to the importance of this movement. 824 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 the study of the documents of the local Church-- statements by national con-ferences of bishops or by local ordinaries, as well as statements by national conferences of religious men and women. ~ Another source of guidance and inspiration is to be found in the state-ments of the various general chapters. Since i971 the theme of justice and peace has been one of the principal issues acted upon by most general chapters of active religious societies. What is particularly helpful in these statements is the relation of the founding charism to the promotion of justice. In addition to these statements by the Church and by religious in the Church there exists a huge documentation coming from various centers for justice and peace. Articles about social justice are published continually. It is important to develop a certain familiarity with all this and to develop habits of study that will carry over into a life of the most intense activity. There can be no real commitment to social justice without serious and systematic study. Reflection on One's Personal Experience Complements the Study of the Social Doctrine of the Church The conciliar and papal documents of our time concerning social justice are inspiring calls to action--if they are studied in conjunction with each one's personal experience of the reality of which they speak. The most urgent call to a~:tion comes when we reflect on our personal experience of justice and injustice. Contact with the underprivileged necessarily prods us to do something for the betterment of others. Study of the documents themselves, no matter how inspiring we find the message, is not enough. It is very difficult, if not impossible, to develop a genuine social awareness without actual contact with the underprivileged. A feature of some programs of formation is the experience of another cul-ture. Generally this means the experience of the needs of the Church in other parts of the world, as when religious from Europe and North America come into personal contact with the reality of the Church in Latin America and Africa. The experience of the underprivileged prompts us to ask in what way we are responsible for their condition and what we can do about improving the situation. However, this experience of the life of the underprivileged must always include an openness to recognize special values in them that one lacks in his or her own culture. We must learn from each other. If there is an economic gap between the rich and poor nations, there are also values in the peoples of the so-called Third World to which peoples of the First World would do well to aspire. Such reflection on personal experience is related to the discernment of the signs of the times. This is another way of saying that the faith dimension must take precedence over purely humanitarian and sectarian considerations. What is God saying to us through the events of history? This is one of the Religious Formation and Social Justice / 1125 exciting questions that individual religious and religious communities need to ask themselves. One of the most practical elements in programs of social action is this personal and especially communitarian discernment. Personal discernment is related to study and personal reflection and consultation with others. Communitarian discernment goes on from there. It is an act of faith in the active presence of the Spirit among us and a genuine openness to what the Spirit says to us through the community. "Community discernment" is not limited to reflection among ourselves in community, but also includes consultation with the larger community. On the one hand this refers to the province and, ultimately, to the whole Society; on the other hand, it also refers to the local Church and, ultimately, to the universal Church. Action for justice undertaken as a consequence of such discernment .is well-founded. It is to this kind of social action that our formation programs must be directed. The Integration of Prayer, Study and Discernment Leads to Action We now come to the most difficult point in formation, especially in programs of initial formation: how to translate ideas into action. Yet one of the most heartening features of formation today is precisely that it is action-oriented. We are living at a very privileged time in the history of the Church. We have the documents of the Second Vatican Council, and a rich collection of statements flowing from the Council. We do not lack clear and challenging orientations. And our emphasis on prayer, reflection and personal experience gives us an understanding both of the world around us and also of our mission as religious, so that we hear clearly the call to action. I believe the key element needed to respond well to this call to translate ideas into action is the gift of sharing in the zeal of our founders. I say this because I was struck very much by a remark recently made in one of the meetings of the superiors general in Rome, that our founders were far more prophetic than their successors. Our founders were men and women of vision, gifted to discern the signs of the times in their day and to respond to the needs of the Church in very specific and important ways. It seems to me that today we are giving a renewed value to the specific charisms of religious communities. This involves not only looking back to our roots but also includes the exciting process of discerning what the application of our charism means in our day. Moreover, in international religious communities, the charism of the foundation is continually being enriched as it is made incarnate in different cultures, ' thus enabling us to share new dimensions of our charism throughout the community. Having said this, however, the question remains: "How do we translate ideas into action? It is comparatively easy to instruct others in what must be done but far more difficult to suggest ways and means of how to do it. Of course opportunities for direct action are necessarily limited during the periods of formation, whether this be seen as initial or ongoing, The chal- 896 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 lenge is all the greater with regard to the issue of social justice. There is probably no dimension of formation that must be as action-oriented, in order to be effective, as formation for social justice. Therefore, difficult as it is, we must attempt to suggest how to promote the integral development of a man rather than content ourselves with simply calling for some kind of commitment to human development and letting it go at that. The knowledge of theory must be applied to reality. And for this, there must be a real commitment of time, creativity and energy. There is still another qualification that must be noted. In our commitment to social justice we must always be conscious of our identity as religious. We must find our way, as religious, of committing ourselves to the promotion of justice. At one time in the history of the movement of justice and peace it was believed that the key agents in this movement were the laity. In one sense, the key agents are the laity, but certainly not to the exclusion of priests and religious men and women. In fact, there is a specific role of religious leadership and witness that can be provided only by priests and religious. It is on this specific role that we must concentrate our formation of religious for social justice~ Another mark I want to make about action for justice is the importance of taking a positive approach rather than a negative one. Most calls for social action seem to be phrased in terms of protests. Such reactions to injustice are undoubtedly necessary, but it is far more important to take the initiative, to act for social justice rather than simply react against cases of injustice. This promotion of justice is necessarily determined by the distinctive situation of each culture. But some general examples of social action are the following~. --The use of the material resources of the community for the integral development of men and women. --The updating of guidelines for general and province investments, and decisions taken in consequence of these guidelines. --The use of investments to influence action for the integral development of all men. A religious society, especially in collaboration with others, can, for example, influence justice through the use of rights at-tached to shares in company stocks. --Giving witness of a simplicity of life-style. --Service of the underprivileged in general, and in the Third World in particular, keeping in mind the importance of helping people to help themselves rather than by means of any form of a patronizing "doing for others." --Programs of action-oriented education for justice in our schools and universities. In this regard, it is important to find ways and means of influencing the civic and business worlds to a greater commitment to social justice. Religious Formation and Social Justice / 827 --Participation in programs to help form the social conscience of the laity. At the same time, as we work at those programs which reach beyond the community, we must recognize that, to be authentic and effective, we must also work to promote justice within our own religious communities. As long as someone believes he or she has been treated unjustly there cannot be peace. It is our mission to promote that internal freedom of the human person which permits true openness to God's action in his or her life. To the extent that our religious are really free and open to the action 9f the Spirit, to that extent can they be effective instruments in God's hands for the good of his people. In working to correct unjust structures or practices in our own communities we must be careful not to become aggressive or belligerent ourselves. Many of these injustices come about simply because there is a lack of awareness. Formation Prepares for Collaboration With Others Although formation is necessarily personalized, calling for the develop-ment of a great sense of personal responsibility, formation today is oriented to the building of community among ourselves and with others in pursuit of a common mission, Our own religious communities must be seen as centers of ongoing formation, and care must be taken to try to make our communities favorable to this continued growth in the life of every religious, Efforts must be made, too, to have the local community have a sharper sense of the larger community to which it belongs, whether of the same religious family extended throughout the world or of the local Church in which the community is inserted. The development of a transnational mentality, and at the same time a more effective insertion in the local Church, are important thrusts in religious life today. And one of the features of "insertion in the local Church" is collaboration with other religious societies in the same area. From the moment of each one's entry into religious life, we must em-phasize the importance of collaboration with others: with the local Church; with other religious societies in the local Church; with other communities of our own society locally, in the Province, and throughout the society; with national and local conferences of religious; with national and diocesan commissions of justice and peace; with other men and women of goodwill. As religious communities, in all that we do, but especially in the promotion of justice and peace, we must strive to work with others rather than establish parallel structures. Conclusion Today's call for social action has profound implications for the Church and for religious life within the Church. The insertion of the Church in the world to meet the real needs of men and women today--their integral development and the integral development of the entire human race--is 828 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 part of the Good News we are commissioned to announce. Within our own religious communities, this commitment to social action brings with it one of the most important elements for the radical renewal of religious life. Our commitment to social justice will necessarily stimulate us to greater holiness of life, both individually and as communities. In this question of social justice we must be very patient with one another. There are some religious who are uneasy with the call to social action. Their entire formation and personal experience of the apostolate directed them to a different kind of commitment. The changing of attitudes called for by the Second Vatican Council is not accomplished easily and quickly. While working for the ongoing formation of all our religious we must accept the fact that some will not be able to commit themselves to the promotion of justice in the way that the documents of the Church call for. We must not be aggressive with such religious on this point. But we must he firm in not permitting them to impede the commitment of others who are responding in goodwill to the call of the Church, as is often made specific in general chapter orientations. Not everybody in religious life believes that social action is compatible with religious life; but it is certainly important that everyone in formation believe that this is the case and act accordingly. It is simply a question of recognizing that the commitment to justice is an integral part of religious life today. Annunciation Stirring summer air salutes her cheek, Then tomorrows whirl inside her, Kaleidoscope of thunderstorm and sunrise. She cups a question--"How?"--around the message To know its shape, And strikes white-hot divinity. "Let it be done!" Storm and sun explode In searing glory That contracts into a spark Within her womb. Sister Mary Cabrini Durkin, O.S.U. 1339 East McMillan Street Cincinnati, OH 45206 I Will Be.Who I Am Reflections Culled By M. Geraldine, O.P. Sister Geraldine is a member of the community of Oakford Priory; P.O. Box, Verulan; North Coast; Natal; South Africa. The reflections which follow are writings sent in letters sent at various times by a young doctor working in a very large and busy African hospital. I asked her. permission to publish these, simply because they come from someone--not a religious--who is living in the world, being involved in life, with all its primitive and brutal aspects, and yet remaining gentle, with her inner eye fixed on God--a contemplative in the world. Most of these passages were written over the past two years, during which time she was overworked to a degree beyond comprehension. Her one request in giving her permission was that only her first name be used: "Bobby." I added headings because, in their original form, the pieces did not bear headings, falling rather into the context of letters. Sister Geraldine Me Today This morning It is good to share in the Presence of my Lord. Today, Christ is in the touchables. He is in all that matters 829 830 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 --and doesn't matter. He is Lord of even the mediocre. Today, all I have is mediocrity, And the Lord is here--within all. He promised my coming and my going --my feeling and my unfeeling. I will not leave myself today. I will be--who I am, What I am--with Him. He will have--what I am He will love--what I am He will see--what I cannot see, Unable to see--but quiet In the truth--in Him Who is me. Me I wake in the mornings, and life, apart from the need, The great and unfulfilled need, to find silence, Comes like a great abyss of emptiness over me, Conflicts--tightening and exposing. But today--I felt my own fingers And knew that I was apart from them. I no longer felt my fingers as mine-- I was apart--and I will become Believe, hoping--knowing That God and I will grow together. That God will remove himself from my becoming And become one with my being. And all is more than knowing--this is all! The end of why I am. He has returnedwand I live again A tiny flame of love burns-- And I will be of God. Annunciation Salutation breaks the silence. Words, like rain, drop softly Yet thunder in her ears--as Mary I Will Be-- Who I A m: Reflections Culled By / ~3~ Mother--bends to gather words Which fell on desert earth On drought and burnt horizons. And Mary--Mary speaks her word, And waters flow as streams Through valleys--leveledbhills--brought low. "Do unto me" is a gentle breeze Which sweeps Him into life--through Mary. Contemplation Placid wilderness, You are the cold place--the quiet place and I, shivering in the coldness of your night, I do not mind you. For you have beauty in your wildness And comfort in your darkness And I hold you to me As a singer holds her song Awaiting her final note. Contemplation And I still wait upon His word Though He has laid waste my fields And cast me beyond my knowledge. He has dazzled me in splendor, He has made me sick with love. And though His ways are hard, And tears in solitude have blinded and drenched my roots I wait--humbled--in patience For He calls me by my name And His gracious ways Are beyond my knowledge. Autumn Snow is falling today--not crystals Multi-fashioned of cosmic force-- But life-sprung, from seed and fruit. Our early autumn snow--crisp and dry 839 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 Gentle leaves, slipping on windgusts In their own wafting way Assimilate cold-country snow. Nature Wind, I have rushed like you and blown before me fallen leaves. Clouds, I have touched like you The tips of hills--scudded mountains. Today a man will trample you, Grass, And I, too, will feel your pain. Winter fare It is raining today! Deep inside, water is falling-- And a heart, drenched From constant deluge, ' Hopes for dryness--desert warmth It is raining today, in my heart. Faith To sing relentlessly all my day-- Whether hearing the song, or merely listening for it-- I will sing, I believe-- In heart open, breaking forth-- My song will herald the quiet and the splendor Of the Lord I sing to, Whose music I step to A sound of gentle movement--a manner of being A manner of becoming--movement, Life and splendor. Bobby Progress in Centering Prayer M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O. Father Pennington's last article, "The Vocation of the 'Vocation Father,' " appeared in the May, 1979, issue. He continues to reside in St. Joseph's Abbey, Spencer, MA 01562. ~ would like to share with you three reactions to Centering Prayer. Recently I led a workshop on Centering Prayer for the Eastern Asso-ciation of Seminary Spiritual Directors. After an initial presentation, one of the spiritual directors asked; "Is this the kind of prayer we should move our directees toward, with the idea that, when they get there, they will stay there?" On another occasion a young religious was shirring with me his experience in prayer. After his first few experiences of transcending, he said, he asked himself: "Is this a!l there is to it?" Finally, a priest who had been centering regularly for several years wrote to me from Rome shortly after his election as superior general of his congre-gation: "As for the prayer, all I can say is that when I miss it, I miss it." Itseems to me that that spiritual director, who was not yet well acquaint-ed with or practiced in experiential prayer, was still approaching prayer as a project. This is most common. In our accomplishment-orientated society we tend to approach everything as a project--something to be done, accom-plished. There is a determined, measurable, finished'product in view. In prayer the program or project is lined up according to some traditional teach-ing. If a more ancient teaching, we might think in terms of lectio, meditatio, oratio, contemplatio--receiving the Word of faith through listening or read-ing, internalizing it by a faith-response in discursive or imaginative medita-tion, responding to it in living, affective power, and finally enjoying it in 833 834 / Review for Religious, Volume38, 1979/6 ¯ quiet contemplation. We may be sophisticated enough to know that no one of these four will ordinarily occur as a pure state or way of prayer. There will usually be an admixture. As, for example, in Centering Prayer: we begin with a moment of recall, bringing forth from our memory the Word of Faith. Then we briefly reflect on it and respond to the reality it bespeaks. We then move to the center, the Presence, in affective love. And finally, there abide in contemplation. The four stages are present, and one predominates: contem-plation. It is this latter that is seen as the "goal" when prayer is conceived as a project; we want to get to the stage where contemplation predominates. Or, to express this using another, perhaps more common terminology: our aim is conceived as getting through the purgative and illuminative stages to the unitive, where we can, in our prayer--and more and more, outside of it also --retain a sense of our oneness with God, abide in his presence, touch and enjoy him in all persons and things. Certainly this is a state we do want to enjoy in our lives. And we are real-istic in thinking that it is something that will in its full realization come about gradually, something that we can foster by our spiritual practices and espe-cially by serious, prayer. But the fallacy I detect here is the tendency to identify particular expe-riences with certain stages of growth, and in particular to identify a certain kind of prayer, a contemplative type of prayer such as Centering Prayer, with a certain advanced stage of progress, and to make a project of its,attainment. All Christian prayer does imply a certain turning from self to God, some acceptan,~ce, h6wever implicit, of his personal revelation o~f himself, and a re-sponse to that'. This, therefore, does imply some "progress."~But apart from this basic conversion or turning to God with mind and ~eart, I do not think we can bind any form of prayer to a particular stage of progress in the Chris-tian or godly life. William of Saint Thierry, one of the great spiritual fathers of the twelfth century; and of all time, wrote a beautiful little treatise, On the Nature and Dignity of Love. In it he depicts the growth of the Christiafi, using as his analogue man's natural growth from infancy through childhood, youth, and maturity° to the wisdom of old age. At the conclusion of his very~rich and beautiful description, which includes some deeply insightful and loving re. flections on our Lord Jesus Christ, William says: It must be remembered, .however, that the stages of love [we can substitute the word prayer, in each case, as it is but an expression~of love] are not like the rungs of a ladder. The soul does not leave,the lesser love behind it as it moves onward to the more perfecL All the degrees of love~work together as one, and for this reason another soul's experi-ence of the scale of love may well follow an order which differs from the one 1 have described. ' ~ In .other words, if we want to think in terms of a ladder, then we should Progress in Centering Prayer / 835 see the ladder lying flat on the ground, so that we can be on all the rungs at the same time. Growth in the Christian life is a matter of intensification, of growing toward loving God in Christ with one's whole mind, whole soul and whole strength. At any moment, mind, heart, soul and strength should be at play, each in its own inte.nsity. At a particular time one may be enjoying a deep ex-perience of union with' ,God on one level, thanks to the touch of his grace, while on another level still be strugglingwith quite naked passions. In a word, one might beenjoying a contemplative type of prayer, true prayer, authentic prayer, while still needing and undergoing a process of purgation and purifi-cation in regard to certain deviant tendencies, and a process of growth in understanding in regard to some Of the basic facets of the divine revelation. It is false to relegate contemplative prayer to a marked' state Of Christian perfection or to consider its practitioner as one who "has arrived" there. A contemplative type of prayer is a way of prayer open to anyone who truly seeks God.' And it is the type of 16rayer experieffce that frill ordinarily best help one to make progress in 'the Christian life, to be purified and illumined, and to abide more integrally in union with God in and through all. It is, therefore, not something to be worked toward, a project to I~e undertaken, a goal, but simply a way to b~ entered into, an experience that can be enjoyed --and struggled with--by all who seek GOd'. But this means that the experience of contemplative prayer is open to de-velopment. The initial experien~ce of transcendent union with God is not an ultimate experience. The young religious was right to question,after his first experiences: "Is this all there is to it?" And at the same moment he was shar-ing with me, he.well knew the answer, for he had been faithful to contempla-tive prayer through several years and therefore knew !t was an evolving ex-perience. But it is an experience, and an ,experience that is beyond thought.or feel-ing or emotion. Therefore, we are not really able to capture it in words. It is good; in fact, it is of the substance of our lives. Once we have begun to be really in touch with it; to know it actually, we will say with that superior general, "When I miss it, I miss it." While most of the "official" pray-ers in the Church are celibates, the analogy of married love, it seems to me, can best help towards understanding and appreciating ~the contemplative experience. God himself, in'~the Old Testament, when he wanted to convey to his~peop!e the fullness and intensity of his personal love for them, again and again had recourse to the analogy,of human lovers. We, following perhaps not a few of the Fathers, tend to shy away from taking this portrayal of God's love for us with any literalness and are quick to spiritualize it, to reduce it to mere imagery. But it is precisely its integralness on an experiential level that makes human love such an apt image and ultimately makes it worthy of being, in the New, Testament, elevated to the sacramental order as the sign of Christ's love for us, his Church. 836 / Review for Religious, l~olume 38, 1979/6 The analogy has a good bit to say to us in regard to experiential prayer. Those who use the sex act seeking only gratifying experiences rather than holding it as the most integral way of expressing truly human love find it to be but an experience which quickly plateaus. New techniques, positions, ap-proaches are sought to increase and vary the stimulation, but the long-term result is inevitably frustration, or at best something far short of,. full human satisfaction. So, too, the one who uses methods of meditation or prayer to "have" experiences will soon ask, as did the young religious: "Is this all there is to contemplation?" And soon one will be trying other methods, looking to diverse traditions and teachers. But if one is truly seeking God, if.the use of a method of prayer such as Centering Prayer is undertaken to find a way to express one's love and desire for God in a fuller, more integral, freer way, then the method opens not only to a gratifying experience, but allows the fuller experience gradually, and sometimes quickly, to unfold. Newlyweds would greatly deceive themselves and be much disillusioned if they thought their first bungling attempts at making love were all that sex in marriage could be. Rather, as they attain a greater ease and facility with the bodily ex-pression, it should take its proper role as the vehicle for the fullness of their human and sacramental, grace-enlivened love. Then, free from false and exorbitant expectation, the physical experience will reveal its potential' to be part of an endlessly fuller realization of the union of love and life. So, too, the contemplative experience of God, in :harmony with the whole growth of Christian life which it especially fosters and matures, will daily become a fuller, richer experience. But the qualitative growth of the inexpressible is itself no less inex-pressible. One will only know by the very experience itself and, to some ex-tent, by its overflow into one's life, that this experience is an ever more mean-ingful and fulfilling expression of one's being. As a little boy I used to enjoy, of a summer's evening, to sit on the top step of-the porch and just be there. There was something indescribably good about being there. In the background my grandparents sat, silently, on the porch swing, rarely exchanging a word. I realize now that that something that made this an especially good and memorable experience was the currents of love that flowed between these two whose understanding and communion had matured through m~any decades. And these currents reached ou.t to enfold me. The man or woman whose love of God has matured through years of intimacy is the one whose presence brings enfolding love. We usually call such a person a saint. But the person himself is usually too much in ttie current of love and its outreach to notice anything special going on on the outside. In regard to the inner reality he is apt to say with the Prophet, "My secret is mine. My secret is mine." Many, though, will still be inclined to ask: "As we go on in Centering Prayer, won't we be aware of some progress? Won't we have a greater fa-cility? Won't there be fewer thoughts, greater peace, etc.?" I think in actual Progress in Centering Prayer / 837 fact we say "yes" to such questions. Yet I say that with some hesitancy and fear, for as soon as we begin to approach theprayer with any expectations, in any way seeking something for ourselves, instead of purely and simply seeking God, we undermine the purity of the prayer and thereby impede our" progress. Undoubtedly, as we repeatedly settle:into the prayer, we gain a greater fa-cility to do so. As the prayer grows in meaningfulness for us, a certain eager-ness aids our entry into it. As a greater love compels us to seek the Lord more wholeheartedly, we will more readily let go of lesser concerns so as to turn ourselves to the presence in our depths. Our chosen "word" will grow in its facility to take us to the depths. In fact, at quiet moments when we are initially not thinking of prayer, the word will arise spontaneously, beckoning us to enjoy a moment's repose in the center. With regard to thoughts: Yes, in general we might expect that after a time they will be less.interfering. The basic surface flow of thoughts and images will depend largely on our own particular make-up. Some of us will always be more given to thoughts and feelings than others. But as we grow in love and detachment--two of the many fruits of this prayer--a particular thought will be less apt to get a hold on us and pull us away from the presence at the center. Experience will teach us more and more to ignore the apparent or real inspirations and brilliant ideas. We will know that they are actually usually half-baked, that they will usually emerge again at some free moment when we will have the leisure to evaluate and use them. As for our little friend, the monitor of self-reflection, with the growth of God-centered love and detachment from self and with his simply being ignored he will gradually give up--at least to some extent. As the author of The Cloud of Unknowing assures us: Should some thought go on annoying you, demanding to know what you are doing, answer with this one word alone, if your mind begins to intellectualize over the meaning and connotations of this little word, remind yourself that its value lies' in its simplicity. Do this and I assure you these thoughts will vanish. Why.'? Because you have refused to develop them with arguing (c.7). Increasing peace will let us move through life with less stress, and re-peated soakings in Centering Prayer will release the built-up stresses of the past, so there will be less need of thoughts on that score. So, all in all, we should ordinarily, as time goes on, be freer and freer from thoughts, left more to enjoy uninterruptedly the presence. All of this is apart from an increased activity on the part of God to draw us into a deeper experience of himself through the graces of what some authors have called "passive contemplation." The Lord, of course, is always free to take special intiative and, if he wants, to take us so beyond our own center into himself to the extent that we can only speak of ecstasy. But until he so takes a hand in things there will always be some mental activity. And we should expect recurring difficult periods as he leads us into deeper and deeper freedom through a more thoroughgoing purification. 838 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 At every stage the rule remains the same: Whenever we become aware of anything we simply let it go by, gently returning to the center by the use of our prayer word. Becausb the development we are concerned with herb is essentially a ques-tion of experience, it can, to put it simply, be known only by experience. The Fathers, when speaking of this, repeatedly say--and I must admit it sounds at first hearing a bit snobbish: Those who have experienced this know what I am talking about. And those who have not, pray that you may have the experi-ence, and then you will know. I have often told people that if, before I entered thee monastery, anyone had ever given me an idea of the pain and sorrow I would encounter in my years as a monk, 1 would have run fast in the opposite direction, because they could never have conveyed to me the experience of love that I would find. Such experience can be gained only in the living. Having that experience, l have never for a day,'an hour or even for a moment regretted having re-sponded to the Lord's most merciful and gracious invitation. We have to enter into the experience of Centering Prayer and let it reveal itself to us day by day. I entered the monastery and stayed long enough to "taste and see how sweet is the Lord" because I heard and saw the witness of those who were willing to share this way with me. So too, we need to hear the witness and see in the lives of others the fruit of Centering Prayer to induce us to practice it faithfully until itself can reveal to us its own meaning. And we, in turn, need to share.what we receive and let the beauty of the Lord's work in our live~ shine forth so that others will be attracted to begin and persevere in the practice till they, too, know and can share. "Freely have you received, freely give." One can then rightly expect to. make progress in Centering Prayer. But one should not see that progress primarily, or try to evaluate it, by what hap-pens on the level of thought or feelings during the prayer. The reduction of thoughts, the feeling of peace and so forth are truly accidental' and no true norm of what is going on. Above all we need to avoid coming to this prayer with expectations. For expectations involve seeking something for ourselves --seeking in some way ourselves--and this undermines the very essence of this prayer which is essentially a total, pure seeking of God, a total giving over of ourselves to him. Only I~y a repeated abiding in this will we, bit by bit, die to our false selves and live more freely unto God so that we come to know more and more fully the expbrience of being, through a union of love, one with our V~ery God. Sisters and Nurses Joseph H. Fichter, S.J. This article is part of a larger study being prepared in regard to religion and pain, focusing on the hospital personnel who bring the consolations of religion to the sick. Father Fichter, of Loyola University (New Orleans) is presently on sabbatical leave. He is residing at Corby Hall; Univer-sity of Notre Dame; Notre Dame, IN 46556. he occupational role of women has been Changing rapidly in the recent past of American society. Women are given assurances by affirmative-action emPloyers that they will have job opportunities equal to those of males in the work force. Nevertheless there is still the stereotype and the actuality of certain kinds of "women's work" as exemplified in some areas of the helping professions: social work, school teaching and.nursing. Even in these areas, both in the Church and in the larger society, the manggerial positions are.still largely in the hands of males. The statement of Vatican II, that "wpmen claim for themselves an equitywith men before the law and in fact," is still short of achievement.' Our specific quest for the spiritual ,dimensions of health care focuses here on the women who are engaged in the personal service to the sick in Catholic hospitals. Many religious women hold responsible~positi~ons in administra-tion in the hospital system, just as they do in the field of Catholic education. If spirituality is exemplified anywhere in the Catholic hospital system it ought to be found among the women who have dedicated their lives to God in the service of sick and needy people. Historically, there gradually developed groups of Christian women who formed religious communities specifically 'Gaudium et Spes, n. 9.The first papal statement on equal rights of women came from John XXIII in Pacem in Terris (1963), n. 41. 839 840 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 dedicated to health care. In later years they have been joined by more and more trained and dedicated lay women in the nursing care of people in pain, The Helping Professions Vocational opportunities for women within the American Catholic Church have been in traditional female occupational roles, with the largest number in the Catholic school system. A survey of female religious person-nel, made about two decades ago, showed that 81o70 were teaching, 120707 were in hospital work, and the rest in several forms of social work.2 About nine out of ten of all fulltime teachers in the Catholic school system were female (61 o70 sisters and 28o70 lay women). Teaching is still the Catholic occu-pation that employs the largest number of women, but the proportion of lay women teachers has increased significantly while the number of elementary parochial schools has declined. Women continue to dominate in the Church's institutions of education and social service but numerous factors account for the shift of emphasis indicated in the following table. We have already seen that the number of Catholic hospitals and schools of nursing have dramatically declined. With the lower birthrate, the numbers of orphanages and infant asylums have also gone down. On the other hand, the growing proportion oi~ the elderly in our society has resulted in the establishment of more homes for the aged. Every large diocese in the country has a variety of institutions to carry on the works of mercy, and they hire professional social workers, most of whom are women. These organizations have different labels while covering approx-imately the same~kind of services to the needs of the people~ Most of them had been under the title of Catholic Charities, but are also known as the Department of Christian Service, Family Life Bureau, Program for Refugees and Migrants, and often there are special committees for types of handi-capped persons, the lame, the blind and the deaf. None of these apostoli( ministries could continue to function ~successfully if there were not large numbers of conscientious and trained women available. Table l--Distribution of Establishments in Which Catholic Women Religious Are Employed, 1963 and 1978 1963 1978 Parochial,Elementary Schools 10,322 7,959 Hospitals and Sanatoria 946 728 Schools of Nursing 342 124 Homes for the Aged 357 486 Orphanages and Infant Asylums 258 204 Protective Institutions 134 122 When these diocesan bureaus and committees first began they were 2See Jospeh H. Fichter, Religion as an Occupation (Notre Dame, University of Notre Dame Press, 1961), pp. 145-148. Sisters and Nurses / 841 almost always headed by a clergyman--a monsignor if the post was pres-tigious enough--and may have included one or two professionally trained religious sisters. As the social needs became more apparent and as these insti-tutions increased in size, they employed more and more lay women social workers. The helping professions also grew more demanding for further and more complicated education and training. The criterion for employment began to place almost as much emphasis on the fact that a woman was trained for the work as on the fact that she was of the Catholic faith. The feminist movement has brought forth many legitimate complaints about discriminatory sexism in organized religion, and particularly in the Roman Catholic Church.~ There is, however, one positive aspect that is fre-quently overlooked. It is only within the Catholic Church that large numbers of women, religious sisters, hold important positions in the faculty and ad-ministration of women's colleges. This is true also of the other establishments listed in the above table, where nuns held responsibility for hospitals and orphanages and old folks' homes, and other facilities in Catholic charities. Before the Second Vatican Council there was occupational upward mobility for Catholic women, but it was almost exclusively for the members of relig-ious congregations.' While the sex distribution of the respondents to this study is not meant to reflect the actual proportions of men and women in these Catholic hospitals, we find that almost two-thirds of them (64%) are female. The listing of hos-pitals in the Catholic Directory usually provides the names of the administra= tot and the priest chaplain, and the number of religious sisters and nurses. It does not reveal how many males are employed at the hospital, but simple observation and experience in these hospitals demonstrate that females far outnumber males. The number of women physicians is gradually increasing, but there continues to be a predominance of males in the medical staff of these hospitals. Fewer Women Religious When Cardinal Suenens published his popular book, Nun in the World, in 1963,~ the American religious women were busy about improved profes-sional training and an expanded apostolate. Various options were earnestly discussed and we were reminded that "the hospital apostolate is almost unlimited: contact with patients in apostolic follow-up in their homes; con-tact with the families of patients, often themselves spiritual patients for our ministrations; home visiting of the sick and aged in the parish; organizing ~See Mary Daly, The Church and the Second Sex (New York, Harper and Row, 1968), Chapter I, "The Case Against the Church." 'See Sally Cunneen, Sex: Female; Religion: Catholic (New York, Holi, Rinehart and Winston, 1968), Chapter 7, "Nuns in Evolution. " 'Leon-Josef Cardinal Suenens, Nun in the Worm (Philadelphia, Westminster, 1963). 842 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 retreats and recollection-days for different categories of patients, for doc-tors, nurses, personnel; organizing action groups of the same categories ~for training in the apostolate and in their roles in. the Church.''6 It was a time of great aspirations when almost unlimited opportunities for development lay before the American congregations of religious women. In 1966, the year after the,close of the Second Vatican Council the number of religious Sisters reached its,peak, 181;421. By 1978 this number had shrunk to 129,391, and the repercussions of this .shrinkage were felt in all the Church apostolates where the nuns had been making their greatest occupational con-tribution. Fewer young women were entering the novitiates of religious con-gregations to replace those who had died and especially to fill the roles of the large numbers who resigned from the sisterhoods.7 There is no need to dis-cuss here the reasons for this decline in the numbers of vocations among women :religious, a decline:which is apparent also in all Catholic male church professionals: priests, brothers, seminarians. Meanwhile the American Catholic population continued to grow; new dioceses were established and new parishes were opened. Because of the shortage of sisters to staff the elementary and secondary schools many of them had to close down and others had to employ a growing echelon of lay teachers. The lack of religious women to staff and administer Catholic schools of nursing was one of the reasons, why so many of.them went out of existence. Many changes of personnel occurred also in the Catholic hospital system. ~ With the exception of three institutions operated by congregations of religious brothers, all of the hospitals of this study are under the auspices of religious congregations of women. Some of the largest of these hospitals have more than twenty-five nuns on the staff,8 but the average number for all of them is 11.1 religious sisters. In otherwords, the 297 sisters' hospitals of this survey had 3,300 religious women serving the patients in various capacities. The following table reveals their distribution in the several categories of hospital work. ~ ; Table 2--Occupational Distribution of 3,300 Religious Sisters in 297 Catholic Hospitals Number Percent Bedside Nurses 556 16.9 Pastoral Care 657 19.9. Supervisors 905 27~4 Other Positions ~ 1,182 35.8 °Sister,Gertrude Donnelly, The Sister Apostle (Notre Dame, Fides, 1964), p. 21. 'For a sociolological analysis of this phenomenon see Helen Ebaugh, Out of the Cloister (Aus-tin, University of Texas Press, 1977). For an earlier study see Joseph H. Ficter, Religion as an Occupation, Chapter 8, "Giving Up the Vocation." 'For the correct definition of sisters and nun's see W. B. Ryan, New Catholic Encyclopedia, vol. 10, p. 575 for "nun," and vol. 13~ p. 261, for "sister." Sisters and Nurses Most of the religious sisters who took hospital training and became reg-istered nurses say that they had originally intended to exercise their apostolic ministry as bedside nurses. Indeed, when the oldest of these' hospitals was first established practically all of the bedside nursing was done by religious sisters. This was the direction in which their vocation lay, I~ut circumstances decreed otherwise. Over the decades, as the hospitals expanded and the num-ber of patients multiplied, many lay women were trained in nursing while many of the sisters became head nurses and supervisors or moved into admin-istrative positions. At the present time, and among the hospitals answering this survey, almost three out of ten (28~/0) do not have any sisters at all in the role of bedside nursing. A'young lay nurse in a Catholic hospital of over 350 beds told us that she knew of only three bedside nursing sisters out of the 238 nurses in the hos-pital. She felt that the sisters have certain educational ~iiad [9rofessional ad-vantages in belonging to religious congregations, '~They"don't have to pay for their own training and education, and they are able to get bachelor's and master's degrees in nursing. They get to be supervisors on the different floors and wardSof the hospital. The sisters, of course, are the administrators of.th6 hospital.''It is true that the sister nurses answering our questionnaire are twice as likely as the non-sisters to have attained an acad6mic degree. Many of the hospitals conducted by religious congregations of women continue to have a sister as president, chief executive or administrator, but there is a gradually increasing proportion that now employ trained lay per-sons in positions of top management. From the point of view of personal and spiritual contact with sick people, however, the most significant switch for sisters has been away from the immediate beds.ide care of the sick. It is inter-esting that the largest single category of sisters iri Table 2 is made up of women iff"'other'' positions which constitute an interminable listing in the financ( office, the cafeteria, the laundry, the laboratory, and elsewhere in the hospital.9 This does not mean that all of these positions are filled by sisters who-were formerly involved in nursing. As a matter of fact; most of them were trained and educated for non-medical occupations. '~ Non,Sister Nurses As the numbers of religious women decline, and as they move from bed-side nursing to 'Supervisory 'positions and to other hospital functions, their prayerful influence on the patients will be funneled through the nurses work-ing under their direction. Whether or not this will lessen the influenceof the consolations of religion to sick people will probably depend on the extent to which the lay women nurses fulfill the spiritual functions of the Catholic hospital s~,stem. "If a Catholic .health facility is to witness to Christian values ~The Variety of people who deal directly or indirectly with the patient is listed by Beverly Du Gas, Introduction to Patient Care (Philadelphia, Saundcrs, 1977), p. 104. ~144 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 today, it must do so through the services rendered and values expressed by its employees in their contacts with patients and fellow staff.'''° At the present time in these Catholic hospitals the vast majority of the nurses are lay women, and almost one-third of them (32°70) are not members of the Catholic Church. For the most part, however, they are Christian believers and have affiliation with various Protestant churches. The compar-isons we make here between the sisters and non-sisters who are nurses do not revolve around their technical and medical skills. The non-sisters are on the average two years younger than the sisters, have been in hospital work for fewer years, and fewer have academic degrees in nursing. We assume, how-ever, that all these nurses have been tested for professional competence and are retained in employment on the basis of experience and proven ability to deal with sick people. The comparative analysis then centers on questions of faith, spirituality, the consolations of religion. One of the puzzling differences between these two categories of nurses is that the lay women appear to have a higher appreciation of the hospital's efforts to bring religion to the patients. When we asked them, "In general, how is spiritual ministry to the sick rated in this hospital?" the lay nurses were much more likely (70°70) than the sister nurses (540/0) to give a high rating. We asked them also to make a general assessment of pastoral care at their hospital," and again the non-sisters were more likely (56°70 to 310/0) than the sisters to say that it is "excellent." Indeed, one-fifth of the sisters assessed it as "only fair." One may speculate that because of their religious training and professed ideals, the sisters have higher expectations of the hospital's spiritual ministry and place greater demands on the people in the pastoral care department. In other words, they are less easily satisfied with the quality of spiritual care than are the non-sisters. It is likely also that they pay closer attention and know more about the actual ministry that is being conducted for the religious benefit of the sick patients. Religious practices are more central to their whole way of life, both personal and professional, and this seems certain to sharpen their awareness of others. The proportional responses were switched when we asked the much more personal question about their own spirituality. When we asked to what extent these hospital nurses considered spiritual ministry to the sick an aspect of their own daily work, a higher percentage of sisters (~87°/0) than of non-sisters (71070) said that they consider it "essential." There was practically the same proportional difference (87°70 to 73070) of agreement to the statement that '°William Kenney and Charles Ceronsky, "Developing Christian Values in a Catholic Health Fa-cility," Hospital Prog~'ess, vol. 55, October, 1974, pp. 32, 36-37. "A similar question asked of patients in a large Catholic hospital in Minnesota elicited responses that differed according to the church affiliation of the patient. See Cashel Weiler, "Patients Evaluate Pastoral Care," Hospital Progress, vol. 56, April, 1975, pp. 34-35, 38. Sisters and Nurses / 845 "you can't be a good health professional unless you have a spiritual perspec-tive on life." We proposed also the statement that "the holistic approach in modern health care has to include spiritual ministration to patients." Here again the sisters were much more likely (8007o) than the non-sisters (57070) to say that they "strongly agree" with this statement. It is clear then that the religious conceptualization of the health care pro-fession is of greater significance to the women religious than it is to the non-sisters. Nevertheless, many of the lay women give the impression of deep spir-itual solicitude. "There is a manner about them; they are comfortable with themselves and this is reflected in the way they are with peers, with patients and families. I mean there is a love there that is radiated to others." These remarks were made by a clinical nurse specialist who has been friend and counselor of many nurses. Both types of nurses say that they pray for God's guidance in the work they do daily with sick people, and this tends to be a relatively brief petition for divine help rather than a formal meditative prayer. Practically all of the sisters, and about seven out of ten of the non-sisters report that they "reg-ularly pray" for their patients, asking God to relieve their pain and anxieties. In approximately the same comparative proportions they also say that they "sometimes pray" with patients. Aside from the pastoral care department, which now also includes women, the hospital nurses constitute the main instrument for bringing the consolations of religion to people in pain. Summary The helping pr6fessions of personal service in the Catholic Church are largely in the hands of women, mainly in school teaching, secondly in hos-pital work, and also in social work. In the early sixties there was almost unre-strained enthusiasm about the prospects for women's i'eligious orders. In spite of later charges of sexism, the Catholic Church was the only system in the country that provided opportunities of upward mobility for women in schools and colleges, hospitals, and departments of social welfare. The drastic decline of membership in the religious congregations forced some shifts in the occupational distribution of sisters. Many .parochial schools closed down. Hospitals either retrenched their work force, or hired more and more lay women. The hospital sisters themselves tended to move from bedside nursing to supervisory and administrative positions. Their contact with patients, and their opportunities for spiritual consolation, became remote and less personal. The majority of nurses now in Catholic hospitals are lay women, a signif-icant number being non-Catholics. Nevertheless, they hold the pastoral min-istry to the sick in high regard. The majority of them appreciate the need of a spiritual perspective in health care and agree that spiritual ministry to the sick is an integral aspect of their job as nurses. In personal habits of prayer, how-ever, the religious sisters have more training, experience and appreciation. On Monastic Sexuality James M. Deschene, O.S.B. Brother James' last article, "The Mystic and the Monk: Holiness and Wholeness," appeared in the issue~of July, 1979. Since then, Brother's address has changed to: Ecumenical Monks; P.O. Bo~ 462; Oakdale, NY 11769. monk, almost by definition, is an enigmatic figure. Where most men and women seek out solid niches in society, the monk remains on the fringes, a shadow-figure hard to categorize. While most people seek to make names for themselves and build families to succeed them, the monk.stands apart in a curious,.anonymity, "surrounded by an aura of solitude whidh the modern world finds fascinating, though not perhaps entirelE appealing. Yet of all the enigmatic aspects of the monk's life,°perhhps nothing is more odd to the modern mind than his permanent commitment to a celibate life. There must be moments in the frenetic busyness of life when the monk's solitude appeals to many; moments when his quiet anonymity looks like a sweet .relief from the constant checks and appraisals society makes of most men. and women; moments, too, when the odd "outlaw'.~ freedom of the monk appeals to those whom society has neatly imprisoned in its labels and categories. One can imagine much of the monk's life having at times a certain appeal and enviability for many people, But it would be the rare person, in-deed, who found himself envying the celibacy of the monk's life. ~ In our time--l~erhapS more than in any previous age--celibacy is an enigma and a mystery. But it is through this mystery, faithfully lived out from day to day, that the monk is finally led to a fulfillment and a peace the modern world so desperately seeks y~t so rarely finds. Let it be clear at once that all this is not to say that celibacy ought to be 846 On Monastic Sexuality lived by everyone--it should not. Nor that celibacy is the only path to fulfill-ment and peace--it is not. No sensible person would make such claims. Yet celibacy is~meant to bring into the monk's life a.dimension present, though usually obscured, in the life of every man and ~woman. In being faithful to his commitment to the celibate life, the monk provides an essential witness to this dimension and to its value in the life of authentically human men and women. This is the dimension of intimacy in human love. We cannot hope to understand the mystery of celibacy until we have ex-plored the mystery of intimacy in human life. I suspect, in fact, that much of the modern negative view of celibacy has arisen out of a failure to see and appreciate this deep bond between celibacy and intimacy. Much negative feel-ing- sad to say--must also be attributed to the failure of many celibate reli-gious either to be genuinely celibate or, more commonly, to live celibate lives which radiate rich and deep intimacy. So many celibate men and women have failed tQ generate and radiate the deep affection and luminous warmth that is kindled by genuine intimacy in persons who are not merely unafraid of inti-macy but embrace it joyfully and embody it in their lives. There are few sad-der and more tragic figures in the world than those monks and nuns who, after years in Christ's~,service, have not bloomed with warm human love. These are men and women whose hearts should have blazed like suns with love, yet now lie cold and dead within them. The tragedy is very much theirs, but it is everyone's tragedy too. For it was )ust through these prophetic fig-ures that Christ wanted to work in the world living signs of love. Through them, through their commitment to him, Christ hoped to work miracles of grace, to convince the world that to be human is to be gloriously loving and alive. It was to these figures that the world would come to drink living water; yet too often all the world finds there is a heart of stone. We must pray for such men and women that Christ willprotect them from the despair that daily haunts them. We must do what we can to be loving, warm and intimate human persons ourselves. Celibacy without intimacy is a dead thing. Celibacy without warmth is a deadly thing. Themedieval poet, William Langland, in his i/ision of Piers Plowman tells us that "chastity without charity will be crhained in hell. such a loveless virtue as this shall be fettered in hell.'" To really understand the mystery of celibacy then, we must explore the my~stery of intimate human love. What one discovers almost at once is that intimacy is no merely social or psychological dimension of our person, but one whose roots lie deep in the very ground of our humanness. Intimacy is a real metaphysical dimension of human life. To explore its. landscape is to,.discover whole realms of our human being, heights and depths of which we are often--perhaps sometimes deliberately--unaware. 'William Langland, Piers tire Ploughman (Baltimore: Penguin Book, 1966), p. 37. 848 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 It is important to know from the very start that this landscape of intimacy is not entirely or even primarily the "garden of earthly delights" purveyed by some modern psychologists. Visions of false intimacy abound in our time, luring us with promises of fulfillment no genuine intimacy would ever prom-ise to deliver. We must not confuse intimacy with some kind of utopia--a word, it helps to recall, meaning "nowhere." True intimacy will have the richness and complexity of reality about itS' Intimacy is a very real--indeed essential--element of a truly human life. Coming from the Latin intimus, meaning innermost, intimacy refers to the dimension of depth and of inwardness--the contemplativedimension in each of us, or as the ancient Fathers would call it--the heart. Insofar as a man or woman is in exile from this inner dimension of the heart, that person's life is a shallow affair, infertile and rootless. Alienated from the depths within, we cannot 'help but become dry, cold, shriveled crea-tures, thereby turning God's rich creation into a barren desert of death. Exiled from the heart, we become exiles on the earth. Our lives become sterile and meaningless, and intolerable loneliness drives us to search frantically for something--anything--to fill the aching void we feel. Yet so long as we are exiles from our true inner selves, we find no solace or comfort in any other creature. All our socializing, all our frantic sex can do nothing to bring us peace or rest or life. In this desert exile we learn that the things we so desperately seek to fill our emptiness are revealed, once we grasp them, as mirages. Where we saw water and thought our thirst about to be slaked, the cruel desert--raising our hopes only to dash them more brutally--reveals the illusion and offers us only its dry and deadly dust. Thirstier than ever we run about, sure, despite our every disappointment, that our thirst will be ~atisfied, that the desert will be kind. In this wasteland of our modern rootless lives, only a few paths lie open to us. We may go on as always, restlessly seeking, "distracted from distraction by distraction," hoping to outrun the dark, pursuing shadow that would whisper into our ears the meaninglessness of our lives; hoping perversely for death to deliver us :from bur fretful race and give us, if not peace, at least a blessed nothingness. Others of us, not so adept at fleeing dark truths, end this miserable travesty of life with the quick bullet in the brain or the slower suicide of alcohol and drugs. Still others learn to numb themselves, to deaden the fear and anxiety, to assent to their deathful existence and become living corpses devoid of warmth, liveliness, humor or love. Finally, some few learn to stop in their hectic flight, to resist the whispering voices that offer distrac-tion or tempt one to despair. They learn to become still, to halt beneath that harsh sun and send down their roots into the burning sand in search of water. How foolish these last ones must appear to the others! Yet they alone of all our exiled race stand some chance of becoming really grounded and root-ed-- creatures in touch with the vital source of life, the living water that flows On Monastic Sexuality / 849 in the desert's hidden depths. They are, in a word, contemplatives. Or if that seems too re6aote or specialized a term for modern ears, let us call them people for

Issue 38.4 of the Review for Religious, 1979. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published bi-monthly (every two months), is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Robin 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. © 1979 By REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A.: $8.00 a year; $15.00 for two years. Other countries: $9.00 a year, $17.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS~ P.O. BOX 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 5.5802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor July, 1979 Volume 38 Number 4 Correspoudence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 4.28; 3601 LindeH Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Journey Into Ancestral Fear Mary Grant, L.S.A. Sister Mary's work in strife-torn Belfast has influenced much of her writing. Last year, Our Sunday Visitor published "'Yes in Belfast" under the title, "Yes Lord," which has proven to be a popular source of meditations for many in the United States. She is also involved in Christian Life Communities. Our correspondence address is through Wilbert Forker; 2 Bristow Park; Upper Malone Rd.; Belfast 9; Ireland. Walking up The Falls, reaching out in my heart to the whole city . one with the countless people who have trod this ground through many centuries . Gathering perceptions: sounds, stir-rings of life, the signs ofdeeperlife. Opening up to the signs of death, decay: the burnt-out chimney, the gaping walls--another life, an-other force . The new trees planted: that they would represent Life--not just trees planted on the green of the dead . Gathering all into a unity, integrating all: "Listen to the cry of Your People, Lord! My heart cries their cry--the cry of a thousand years is gathered into Your Presence. When I came to live in this city first, my immediate reaction to hesitant queries was, "Of Course I'm not afraid!" Then one night I dropped a friend in East Belfast, a part of the city I' wasn't familiar with. I missed a turn and found myself lost. Every tiny street was blocked at the end; every time I turned, my headlights picked up "King Billy" on the walls--and slogans! It seemed.every door opened to see who was in the strange tar: I was seized With nameless terror. I could not get out and ask my way. I felt threatened, trapped, alone! 481 4B2 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 / 4 In that night I realized how the fears of our environment had entered into me, despite myself. I understood the fears of those who walked alone at night, defenseless. I understood the fear of many people who had not left their district for years, never entered the "unknown" behind the barriers. Some children have never seen behind the barriers that their parents have erected. How do we learn to break through these fears? How do we become revitalized from the paralysis which hampers us? It is easy to quote. "Per-fect love casts out fear" (IJn 4)! But the truth is that we are a covenant people who have been unfaithful to that spirit of love and community by which all men were supposed to recognize the disciples of the Lord. I believe we have first of all calmly to acknowledge that fact, without blame or judgment on either side. And, equally calmly, we have to go about creating bonds of community. In these last few years we have talked much of justice. Our chief work of justice, though, involves our relationship to this covenant---our relationship among ourselves. What Are the Causes of Oppression Around Us? Reflecting on that night, on the grotesque forms of the unknown, I came to see that fear wears many guises. If we ponder on the question, What are the real causes of oppression around us?, immediately there come the replies: "British domination," Loyalist selfishness," "Social apathy," "I.R.A. Terrorism," "Unemployment," "Subhuman housing," and so forth. These are the likely response of a great number of people, depending on which side of the barriers they stand. ' ~ I'm beginning to be more convinced that the~ real ~answer is our-selves--- our memories, our inability to forgive, to be Christlike; to know what to do and how to be as a Christian in the face of injusticei oppression. Our reaction to oppression has been very different fr6m that of the'early Christians. We look back on our Irish history as a people--checkered, erratic: like many anation. But as Christians; how have we fac(d~it? (I mean aH who call themselveS Christian.) We have retaliated with violence, crude-ness, injustice, in just as bitter a way. Some of us say: "We have not thrown bombs! We don't believe that vio-lence is the answer." But have our hearts changed from republicanism or loyalism to a truly Christian approach to life? These labels really stand for all those people who wish to maintain their status quo, even at the cost of the lives of thej.r brothers and sisters. The death of hope is a high cost to pay for a moment's security behind artificial barriers. You ~Will Find in People What You Expect to Find . ~ Why is the change so difficult to'accomplish? Why-are we still talking about it, rather than simply living in love? I wonder, have we really listened to what the violence is saying? I think it is only the dreadful symptom of Journey into Ancestral Fetir / what is happening to the heart of our people. I hear it as a'scream for help, the screaming of the voiceless. I see it not as someihing we can meet head-on, but amid a persistent reaching out in understanding love of peo-ple's' real needs. I'm convinced of the necessity to get at the cat]se. If not, we'll become submerged ifi the symptoms which will get wors~ and worse no matter how we cover them up. Such encounters with our ancestral depths make it ciear to me that one of the deep-seated causes is the colonizer/colonized mentalities from which springs the. dividing wall of fear, mistrust, suspicion. The ancestral wounds have not healed. A change of mentality.does not happen overnight. It is the growth of a long searching, a patient understanding and a persevering love. Unless we have the cpurage to risk the leap of faith'towards our brother, whoever he is, (and I'm not talking simply about Loyalist and Republican), we cannot hope to begin this change of mentality. And we all need it. ! need first of all to learn to live with myself. I have to' learn to live with my brothers,~my neighbors. Then I can open out to.the wider ~zommunity! The reasons which move people to suc.h positioris are mainly historical. But to grow as a people, to be Christian, we have to reach out across these historical, cultural, spiritual barriers and create a climate of acceptance and understanding of each other. And it musi. be two-way: I must address tile barriers of fear. mistrust, hatred, pride, prejudice within me--overcome them in myself first, and then move outwards. But how many of us have learned to live with ourselves? How many of us have integrated within ourselves the various strands of our ancestry? If I take even the first tentative steps in this process of integration, of growth, I discover that there are no ready-made answers in the movement outwards again towards my brothers. I can only share what I have dis-covered in my attempt to follow Christ. ! discover that I learn all the time, from the people I move among. Yes, God is still speaking today. We need to let him change us! ; His peace will not be found in mass meetings for peace, but in changed lives. While that is true, it is also true that many of the mass meetings for peace do spring from the changed lives of thousands of people, a change which has been taking place ~quietly over the last few years. It seems a change of climate has been growing--a springtime. However, unless it springs from areal change of heart it will die do~wn and get nowhere. I'd fear to think of peace as simply the absence of violence among us. When we experience a comparative lull, as recently we did, how do we read it? Is the lull a nursing of our wounds, a hardening of attitudes? Or is it a time of healing? We have had many violent episodes in the past which eventually died down. But our hearts didn't change. Unless this change of attitude prompts'us to really seek out our brother, to understand him, as he is and not to try to change him, then it is but a caricature of Christianity--you will find in your brother only what you bring, what you are. 41~4 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 /4 Becoming iMore Fully Human The trouble with most of us is that we haven't fully explored who we are. We transfer to our brother a whole lot of that deep subconscious which we haven't faced in ourselves. What is growth, integration, but a process of becoming more truly the person I am not some dream, or ideal, but truly myself. It is not easy to live with a known self, no matter how many angles, or how many depths of light and darkness that self holds. Within the context of what it means to be Christian, I see this growth as a process of Incarnation. Very often we are so close to all that is happening in this .process that we cannot see clearly at all what is .happening while it is happ6ning. Occa-sionally we have to stand back and look from a different viewpoint. Then whole new worlds of meaning light up our horizon. Through a brief en-counter w, ith the East, I myself had some such ~experience. When our separate worlds met (first, second, third), in my being lifted out of my own life experience of p.overty, need, struggle, into a totally "different" world, I experienced "living through Incarnation," not simply looking to it for meaning. I went carrying the burden of this seemingly impossible situation in our country. Would anything the East could teach thl:ow light on that? The situation of other nations was just as appalling. Where might hope be found? I felt saddened by the many who know only a hopeless resignation, and more saddened by those who channel their despair into reckless violence. The presence of Christ assured me that this was only part of the picture, but I had not had the reference ofmy o~vn experience to work on. I had not seen, touched, tasted, so I did not know--I hung on 'to belief. I felt stifled by the polarization of parts of my home-city into ghetto areas which prevents the natural giving and taking in which reaching oi)t and sharing would promote reconciliation. I felt frustrated by the third force which goads each side against the other rather thanwork for peace; The "ancestral fears" of our environment had eaten into us so deeply that I did not recognize them in myself. Yet, in the midst of this atmosphere of defeat, His hope rose up and beckoned more gtrongly, buoying me up. In our sheer need I saw Him at work in broken lives--healing, restoring. But there were so many ques-tions. So much I needed to'learn. In my being lifted out of my own life-exp+ rience of poverty, need, struggle, into a totally "different" world, I felt I lived through this "God becoming man" again. I was not outside, looking on. I became man--human. If I might look for a key word to describe this experience of Incarnation, it might be sharing. Too many have gone from the West to the East to give--to satisfy a nagging sense that "we must do something." We, though, in approaching our hosts with empty, open hearts, found ourselves en-riched beyond measure: reverence for the other; stillness, waiting. Entering into another's reality means going outside the self. Journey into Ancestral Fear Sharing, Not Distributing If we have not gone outside of self, outside "our" great world, we will remain on the level of doing. We will distribute from our bag of tricks and wonder.why, one day, it runs empty and we haven't that -powerful" feeling any more. No, to share speaks of equality. Sharing never makes others dependent, never prevents growth, never closes the door to a return. What else is sharing, but the life of the Trinity of love? Christ prayed that we may be one as They are one. Life is not life at all unless it is shared. To share the ordinary things of life gives me an idea of what it will be like to share the life of God. Have we learned to live a little like our God of Love? Could I truthfully say: "All I have is yours"? (see Jn 17:10). In my eagerness to live for the good of my own people, I learned that I had been affected by the Western sickness of wanting to give all the time. In being thrown back on my personal poverty and powerlessness, I have learned better how to receive--graciously, lovingly. It has opened up a beautiful new perspective in regard to all those whose lives touch mine, whether that might be family, work, community, friends, strangers. To all people, I have learned from the East the meaning of the simple, demanding statement: "I am for you.", Simple realities we take so much for granted have assumed a deeper significance: the really deprived among us are those without hope, those who have not discovered the immense riches of their true selves, those who hide behind barriers of fear, mistrust, hatred; those of us who dare not celebrate a life we feel too fragile; those ofus who have lost the festivity and joy of living. "What does it matter if you gain the whole world and lose your true self?." (Mk 8:36). In being evangelized by those people considered "poor" in the eyes of the world, I have become more deeply human--just as I have received my reality as a person also from those to whom I have been sent here at home. There Are No "Them" and "Us" As He turned to his people he felt great compassion: he wanted to reach out. His very desire for their good healed them--he truly "lived with" their need. There are no "them" and "us"--it is always "we together." He wants to free each one of us from our fears, doubts, hesitations, inabilities, limitations. He wants to launch us on his mission, before his healing power can effectively flow through us. 1 think ! lost any trace of the "Messiah complex," of "giving Christ to the world" rather than discovering him present inall peoples, during that time in the East. This true sharing leads to a deep communion. The bonds of community grow in the measure that we share who we are with all men. How do I approach those on the other side of the barriers in our own environment? Is it from a position of strength toward weakness? Is it from a position of "having it all" and needing to satisfy a nagging sense that "we must do something"? Or do those of us who genuinely want to reach out to others, 4~16 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/4 do so from the reality of being grasped by Christ,freed by him, impelled by his love to proclaim that he is alive today--among us? There is something deep within each of us as human beings that makes us want to live in communion with others. I don't want to approach anyone, or want to break through barriers, with the attitude of "them out there," of "isn't it awful?," of "what can we do about it?" I would rather like to receive all with an empty, open heart, in reverence, in stillness--in waiting, if need be. Entering into another's reality means entering into the "why" of the fears, barriers, defenses. Do I live with a sense of equality among all? When we talk of neighborliness, of friendship across the barriers, could I truthfully say to you, "All I have is yours!"? Only then can we return to each other the festivity and joy of living. How One Man Became Free In the slums of Manila, where 80% of the people live below the poverty line, they spoke with us about the climate of fear and oppression around them. There was no hint of hopelessness--though one often met with a feeling of powerlessness. This was brought home to us as one group told us how they had come across the wife and family of a well-known political prisoner. ~ This manhad been in a position equivalent to the opposition. Since the introduction of martial law he had been in prison, and denied the right to ordinary legal proceedings for a trial. A military tribunal hearing was to begin the following day. His wife pleaded with us visitors to. come with her. With some apprehension as to possible consequences, we did, and' were amazed to find the courtroom nearly filled with priests and sisters morally upholding the prisoner~ The hearings of his challenge to the tribunal was an outstanding example of real strength against injustice. A remark he made during the trial has echoed in my mind through all the weeks and months which followed: My cell door, ironically, has been my door to freedom. Having walked through it, I have lost my fears. It became my door to freedom when I finally acknowledged its threats as the promise of liberation and truth . I cannot yield to you my spirit and my conscience. I am yielding to might but not to right . After four years in confinement, 1 have finally realized that man must fear most the prison of his own making--the prison of fear itself. Freedom From Fear I returned with renewed'faith--God, who has begun this great thing, humanity, and Christianity; will see it through. Sharing in his love for all those whose lives touch mine, I dare to believe that he can use even me to bring life to a world without hope. And, when I am united with you., and you., who believe, the kingdom of God has come among us. "There are no experts, only disciples who learn by doing." ~An'd, when we are given the courage to launch out into (he deep, we don't know where Journey into Ancestral Fear that "doing" will end! When Christ raised Lazarus from the dead, he gave him ~over to the people wh6 surrounded them to be unbound. So, as he raises us, he gives us to each other to continue the unbinding--receiving our reality from each other, giving each other our freedom--in dignity, simplic-ity, beauty, hospitality. "Yes, we are a happy, carefree people, but something is happening to our hearts which we do not understand." The worst form of poverty is to be alive without hope. To be without hope is to be without Him---our Savior. But where He is, there is no fear: "Perfect love casts out fear" (1 Jn 18). I came away from the East free of a fear which had paralyzed and prevented all aspects of my life. And so I understood the fear in our environment here at home. The historic wounds are so deep, part of the very fabric of our lives--so deep we might not recognize ourselves without them. As God touches our beings personally, gradually, gently., leading us toward personal wholeness in him, so he touches us as a people. He, as it were, goes back into history and heals the wounds history has left behind. This is the healing we need as a nation. ~ This freedom from fear enables us to proclaim by our lives: "Serenity--knowing we are loved, assured, at peace with him and our-selves; Stability--God is God, let Him be God. He holds all, hand it over to him. Tranquillity---overflowing from an abiding sense of his presence among US. Capability--his power in our lives, his power overflowing to others. This is our service--to be open to all: the fruit of the Spirit of peace among us. We need to speak for God in these our troubled times as reso-lutely as the prophets of old. We need to proclaim joy, hope, peace in the midst of the many disasters round about. Real hope dawns when there is no other possibility than absolute dependence on God---our foot constantly wearing out his doorstep! The Brotherhood of Man is Possible! Already, as I was learning these truths more deeply, thousands of peo-ple were rising up at home and speaking fearlessly for peace, forging stronger ties towards reconciliation. Since then, freedom has been pro-claimed again and again, echo6d by a thousand voices. In the past, gather-ings in war left bitterness, hatred, division festering in age-old wounds. And then enough people said, "We have been governed by fear" to enable gatherings in peace, and joy, forging links of reconciliation. Yes, I learned how to face our fears, turn my back on them, and reso-lutely turn towards all that builds up a climate of reconciliation, strength-ened not by any ability but by my weakness and dependence on His strength. It was worth going to the other end of the world to learn that alone ! 488 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/4 I have felt great sadness at these gatherings too. How effective they will ultimately be depends on how many present have risen out of their fear, how deeply and how realistically each one becomes peace. Too many are carried along on waves of emotion! Yet the brotherhood of man is possible---even here! The answer to the divisions, exploi/ations, war, hatred, rejection, hunger, fear-in-the-world is our Christ of the Beatitudes, with his call to share. There is only one human family. But if we have never experienced human love, can we offer love, or understand what struggle for another involves, or live a life of communion with God? And how can anyone know love--unless you and I love? In the past I have been constantly strengthened by the beautiful expressions of love and hospitality, of generosity, of sharing that I have known among our people here, daily witnessing to the fact that even in our shattered lives the spirit of love is at work among us. Iam filled with more hope than ever. And I am very, very, grateful at being placed near people in .need--at the heart of my people's search for him; at the point of their desire for him. Life has always been beautiful and full of the surprises of God: that beauty has been increased a thousandfold for me. I feel hope rising in leaps 6f Joy: Expect the impossible! Believe the unbelievable! Proclaim the truth !--For God is with us! Each, returned to his own Galile~i, can proclaim fearlessly that which we have seen, touched, tasted (1 Jn 1:1). He is here. He is with us. Hope makes us live. ForHe is our peace. Sitting It Out With Job: The Human Condition Mary Catherine Barron, C.S.J. Sister Mary Catherine is a frequent contributor to these pages. Her last article appeared in September, 1978. She resides at 91 Overlook Ave.; Latham, NY 12110. For a long time now, he had haunted me, this acerbic little man-- haunted me and annoyed me. He seemed so utterly sore: ulcerous wounds on the outside, bleeding heart on the inside. Who needed it? Who also needed his words--thunderous, vehement complaints~de-nouncing life, God, man. Quite honestly, who wanted to tangle with all this writhing agony? It might underscore the already too familiar. So determinedly, I put him aside and concentrated on other things: the joy of Joseph, the fidelity of Ruth, the.trusting surrender of Esther. But they occupied my time, not my mind. For behind them all, there he sat, that angry, implacable figuremstinking, screaming, wildly gesticulating. Ulti-mately, against my will and better judgment, he antagonized me to his side--flies and all. To be candid, I hate flies. And odors like disease and manure, And unmitigated complaining. And pseudo-sympathy. It all talks and walks like death. So I didn't really like Job in his utter humanity. It was too graphically prophetic. That was the haunting part. The annoying part is that, in spite of all of it, I stayed. So now there are two of us si~ting in the noonday sun--hot and stubborn and mad. Eventually, someone will have to speak. In the end it was Job who broke the silence and cursed the day of his birth (Jb 3:1). 489 490 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 / 4 Just like that--for twenty-six verses--spewing out anger. Why was he born? Why couldn't he die? Words filled with dread of the future, sleepless-ness, lament. Grief has a way of doing that, you know. Utter stone., then the crack across the surface. A few heaves--abruptly a mountain becomes a volcano, lava of words and emotion searing out everywhere. Shock on the faces of onlookers st.ampeding to take cover: "Spare us your painful fire, please. Please.'~ While the volcano rages on. And then., the deathlike stillness ¯ . . followed by meaningless words trying to make meaning. A survivor gasps: "Then Eliphaz of Teman spoke: 'If I were as you are, Job . . .' " If ¯ . . if. Through all the wreckage and debris. "If I were as you." if. The irony of those words: Who can be like Job, when one is sound and whole and safe, free from loss, darkness, despair? Speaking out of loved ones alive and farm lands intact, what can such a one as Eliphaz know of unanswered questions, heartrending supplications? For him, do they even exist? Silence. Then, imperceptibly, a stirring from the ashpit, a flicker of the eyelash. Job speaks: If only my misery could be weighed . What wonder then if my words are wild? The arrows of Shaddai stick fast in me . My spirit absorbs their poison (6: I-4). Ah yes--those poisonous arrows of Shaddai; those intimations of doom from Sheol that stick deep. into the soul; the-certain knowledge- that never again will there be innocence and joy. And always there ~are the bitter questions asked over and over of self: Will I be able to go on? Why go on anyway? Where are my friends? Why can't they understand? Fear and loneliness. The Underworld. Someone creeps near to draw out the stir~g, to touch the cracked skin. It is Bildad. He urges humility: You too, if so pure and honest must now seek God, plead with Shaddai (8:4-5). These are soothing words indeed: "ff you are honest." This is an answer with insight!?'Seek God; plead with Shaddai." How is Job to do this when Shaddai has disappeared? Where is God to be found for Job, the sufferer? A lull ensues. The hot breeze blows. Flies buzz. Then a voice. And Job said: Your own hands shaped me, modeled me: And would you now have second thoughts and destroy me? (10:8). The appeal and bargaining begin. Who hasn't done it? Bargaining with self; Sitting It Out With Job: The Human Condition / 49"1 bargaining with God. And the panic: how dare oppose the Almighty's will? How dare question Yahweh God Omnipotent? Suppose I am right? Wha.t difference would it make? Suppose I am wrong? What then? Yet, what is there to lose when one has already lost everything? "Yahweh, give a little happiness before death." Is this too much to ask? Appeal and bargain-ingwwho hasn't done it? .Zophar apparently. For he queries pontifically: Can you claim to grasp the mystery of God, To understand the perfection of Shaddai? It is higher than the heavens; what can you do? It is deeper than Sheol; what can you know? (11:7-8) Truth--unadorned and stark. What can you do? Nothing. What can you know? Nothingwabsolutely nothing. That is the darkness, the pain. Help-lessness in the face of the abyss--the human condition. What can you know? What can you do? Nothing--nothing except to confront Yahweh. Despair--the human condition. Then, convoluting tortuously, comes the rush of Job's words, ejaculated with the vehemence of despair, discharged with the agony of futility, resolute like one,maddened: I mean to remonstrate with God; I will do the talking, whatever may befall me. I put my flesh between my teeth, I take my life in my hands. Let him kill me if he will (13:3-15). The pathos of those words, the frenzy! The "last-chance syndrome." Where have we heard it before? From what corner of the universe has'it n0t cried out? V~e havehea'rd it on the lips of the dying; in the hearts of survivors; from the tomb called old age and rejection; out of the spectral ¯ stare of disease and starvation. Who has not, at some point in life, taken one's flesh in one's hands, remonstrated with God? But Eiiphaz cannot understand. Not yet having plumbed the depths of misery, never having drunk suffering's cup to the dregs, he cannot fathom .the pain that would drive a man to contend with God. He only sees the obvious: anger and rebellion. And sohe says: ~'See how passion carries you away!" Passion--that double-edged sword of grief and joy, the ecstasy and bestiality of man, the most cherished and most despised of gifts. Passion. Who has not longed for its transforming unity? Who has not wept over its fragmenting discord? Passion. I watch him--Job~as he masticates Eliphaz's words. He chews them carefully as one chews a fish with bones. He moves his teeth cautiously around them and just as cautiously his t6ngue. But he will not swallow 492 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 / 4 them. He holds them in his mouth, in one corner of his cheek, and stares ahead at emptiness. "Swallow them," I plead silently, urgently, "or spit them out. Don't hold them lest they choke you." But there is nothing-- only that awful bulbous cheek and the empty stare. It is mid-afternoon, the height of heat and sun, reason's siesta time. Perspiration drips. Things swim before the eyes: mirages, desert visions, subconscious creatures from the soul. The universe crumples like a folded fan. The breeze pants hot across inert bodies, creating the sense of being played upon, fretted. And then, heartrendingly Job cries out: He has shattered me! He has pierced me! He has breached me! He has borne down on me! Every fibre of my heart is broken! I weep! I cry out! Still he shoots his arrows into me! I am overcome! (16:17) The Litany of Passion, divine passion. Good old platitudinous Eliphaz has finally hit the mark. Unerringly, unknowingly, Job has be'en ravished. In the nakedness of a cloudless day, we have seen him vanquished, embraced. He gasps and swallows. The lump travels to his throat and lodges. Is it possible that loss is no longer what he wails? Could it be that he and Yahweh are suddenly bartering for surrender? Without moving an inch, Job has traversed a terrain. I swallow too. Silence impregnates solitude. No one stirs. The sun moves impercep-tibly. A shade begins. Coolness trickles down my brow. 'I close my eyes and wipe the damp. I feel like sleep. Or death. I feel like dying, if dying is so much a pouring out. I feel like.sleep if sleep is like release. I feel . Mournfully into the dusk, Bildad speaks, musing: Driven from light into darkness man is an exile from the earth (18:18). "Driven from light into darkness." Like the sun's course. Like the ocean's tide. Like the season's change: Like life's pattern! Dawn, noon, night. High, ebb, low. Fertility, fall, winter. Birth, life, death. "Driven from light into darkness." Man. The mood is infectious. Night hedges in. Animal cries echo. And Job takes up the refrain: God, you must know, is my oppressor and his is the net that closes round me. He has covered my way with darkness. My kindred and my friends have all gone away. The hand of God has struck me (19:6-21). Sitting It Out With Job: The Human Condition / 493 "Driven from light into darkness." And suddenly, like a meteor across the sky, Hope flares briefly: But this 1 know, I, Job, that my Avenger lives, and he, the Last, will take his stand on earth. He will set me close to him, and from my flesh I shall look on God. He whom I shall see will take my part; These eyes will gaze on him and find him not aloof (19~25-27). It is the song of the prisoner, the condemned. It is the avowal of the sick man, dying. It is the prayer of the faithful soul, deserted. "I know that my Avenger lives." His words fall into the air dropping like snow on velvet, glistening and hushed. The moon rises and clouds over; the stars wink and disappear. It is the inky time of night. Absolute aloneness. Total isolation. Simple breath-ing is intrusion. And I think: "Enveloped by the darkness, shall we quietly slip away'?" The eternal temptation of friendship: to quietly slip away. Will he even know we're gone, so absorbed is he in pain? Will he even care, since, in fact, we cannot help? Is there any point to vigils when the heart lies already dead? Truly, how far does fidelity go? How deep does commitment bind? Ironically, Job gives the answer: fidelity is radical. Its presence is an absolute grace; its absence, an absolute sorrow not to be compared. Job has known the calamity of loss, the pain of bereavement, the suffering of illness. Yet, none of these hold the anguish of desertion and infidelity which is the dark night of the soul; the index tingler of Yahweh scraping across the heart; the Ruah, his breath, blowing in the memory, tantalizing, near, but indescribably far away. From this void of absolute emptiness, Job laments in prayer: That heavy hand of his drags groans from me. If only 1 knew how to reach him, or go travel to his dwelling! If I go eastward, he is not there; or westward--still I cannot see him. If I seek him in the north, he is not to be found; invisible still when I turn to the south . For darkness hides me from him and the gloom veils his Presence from me (23:2-17). This is Psalm 139 prayed backwards. Even in desolation, Job is a good Israelite. And how accurately he speaks. When human friends depart, the griefis great, but who can measure the torment which ensues when God withdraws? "Under cover of darkness, Yahweh, have You, too, slipped away?" So I sit and wait and rest. The night leaks out drop by drop. Minutes become ages, then cease. It is the hour of desolation, which is timeless. 4~14 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 / 4 Inevitable. "And Job continues his solemn discourse. He says:" Who will bring me back to the months that have gone, and the days when G~d was my guardian; When his lamp shone over my hi~ad~ and his light was my guide in the darkness? I cry out to you and you give me no answer (29:1-4; 30:20). How does one deal with that--the silence of~non-response, the answer of the void? Does one walk away dejectedly or does one catapult into the abyss? There is death either way. And thus, Job carefully considers, examines his days and his nights, probes his heartaches and ecstasies, fingers his hopes and his dreams. Is their memory worth silence or speech, retreat or confrontation? And then with a mighty leap, embodying faith and despairJob issues the challenge, directly, forcibly, to God: Who can get me a hearing from God?~ I have had my say from A to Z; now let Shaddai answer me~ When my Adversary has drafted his writ against me, I shall wear it on my shoulder, and bind it round my head like a royal turban. I will give him an account of every step Of my life, and go as boldly as a prince to.meet him (31:35-40). With this ringing declaration, argumentation ceases; lament is done. "End of the words of Job" (31:40). A tremulous pause. Terror grips. Awe invades. The e]arth turns over and I am sick, my senses reeling. Roaring thunder, thickening night. "My God! My God! We are strangling to death. Our words regurgitate." The desert sand flails. I cover my face; I grovel on the earth; I burrow into the dirt. "And then from the heart of the tempest, Yahweh gave Job his answer" (38:1). In fifty eight questions! And Job replied to Yahweh: My words have been frivolous; what can I reply? 1 had better lay my finger on my lips. (40:3-4) God has a way of doing that--giving questions for answers. He has shown himself divine Socratic: And Yahweh God called to the man: Where are you? (Gn 3:9). Yahweh asked Cain: Where is your brother Abel? (Gn 4:9). YahWeh asked Abraham: Why did Sarah laugh? (Gn 18:13). And the one who wrestled with Jacob said: Why do you ask my Name? (Gn 32:29). And Yahweh answered Moses: Who makes man deaf or dumb, gives him sight or leaves him blind?Is it not I, Yahweh? (Ex 4:12). In fact, all through Salvation History we have been closing our mouths Sitting It Out With Job: The Human Condition / 495 with our fi .ngers~too late. Job is in good company. I relax and come up for air,. And Job gave answer to Yahweh: I know that you are all powerful: what you conceive, you can perform. I am the man who obscured your designs with my empty-headed words. 1 have been holding forth on matters I cannot understand; on marvels beyond me and my knowledge (42:1-3). Humility. Man before the divine. Nature kneeling to Transcendence. The mystery of God. And Job replied: I retract all I have sa!d; In dust and ashes, I repent (42:!-3). The beauty of humanity. Its capacity for enlargement. Its yearning for completeness. Its ability to change. Because 1 knew you then by hearsay, but now I see you with my own eyes (42:5). Knowledge of the heart. Contemplation and surrender. Incarnation re-versed: man entering into God, Peace. My pulse resumes. My heart begins to beat. I can see that I am stained. I can see that I can see.t A mist of rose gathers in the east. A breeze sighs. Or is it Eliphaz? And Yahweh God said to Eliphaz of Teman: 'I burn with anger against you and your two friends for not speaking truthfully a~out:me as my servant Job has done. So now find seven bullocks and seven rams, and take them back with.you to my servant Job, and offer a holocaust for yourselves, while Job, my servant, offers prayers for you. I will listen to him with favor and excuse your folly in not speaking of me properly as my servant Job has done.' Eliphaz of Teman, Bildad of Shuah and Zophar of Naamath went away to do as Yahweh had ordered, and Yahweh listened to Job with favor (42:7-9). So now there are two of us sitting in the morning's dawn, tired, and joyful, and reborn. Someone will have to speakmbut no one does. There is only the echo of a deeper silencemthe silence of refrain: Where were you when I laid the earth's foundations? Who decided the dimensions of:it; do you know? Have you ever gi~,en orders to the morning? Have you journeyed to the sources of the sea? Which is the way to the home of light? Where does darkness live? Has the rain a father? What womb brings forth the ice? (38; 39) Riddles. Unsolved riddles. Man, and mystery, and wonder. Pain, and suffering, and death. The human condition. Riddles. Unsolved riddles. And 496 / Review for Religious, Volume38, 1979/4 always the eternal unyielding question: "Do you really want {o reverse My judgment and put Me in the wrong to put yourself in the right?" (40:3) I stretch and rise to go. Job never notices. He is wrapt in prayer, I suppose, for Eliphaz, Bildad, and Teman. 1 shake out my robe, flex my toes inside my sandals. I start across the sand. The dusty road coils away and flows into the sky; the air trembles with the weight of birds; the grasses caress the soil. Love and infinity. Providence and care. The human condi-tion. I plod on down the road, humming as I go: Has the rain a father? What womb brings forth the ice? Now Available As A Reprint 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 Jungian Psychology and Christian Spirituality: I Robert M. Doran, S.J. Father Doran delivered three lectures at Creighton University last year as part of a Spiritual Enric.hment Program. This isthe first one in article form. He resides in the Jesuit Community; Creighton University; 2500 California Street; Omaha, NE 68178. Christian Spiritual Transformation: Self-Transcendence and Self-Appropriation This is the first of three articles on the subject of Jungian psychology and contemporary Christian spirituality. The present article will focus on the latter of these two items, on Christian spiritual transformation as this is understood at the present moment in the life of the Church. By concentrat-ing on two terms frequently employed in the works of Bernard Lonergan, self-transcendence and kelf-appropriation, I hope to provide a context for the next two articles, which will deal more extensively with Jung. This first article will treat, first, Christian spiritual tranformation as self-transcendence; second, Christian spiritual transformation as growth in self-knowledge orself-appropriation; third, the levels of consciousness that can be discovered when one enters on the way of self-appropriat!on; and fourth, the relation of feelings and symbols to these various levels or dimensions of consciousness. This fourth topic locates that element of our interior lives in regard to which Jung's insights become pertinent for our spiritual self-understanding. I have discovered that any such treatment of Jung as the present one eventually brings me into that form of discrimination which, in Ignatian 497 4911 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/4 spirituality, is called the discernment of spirits. Jung is a religiously contro-versial figure. Not only does my own treatment and evaluation of Jung tend to arouse rather than quell the arguments that surround his person and his work, but, more significantly, my critical response to Jung always ~arries me to the heart of the Christian exigence to differentiate the true call of God from the subtle attractions of the force~ of evil as these two contrary tendencies compete for the allegiance of men and women involved in the renewal of the contemporary Church. Why this is so will hopefully be-come clear in the subsequent articles, especially in the final one. But perhaps I can offer now some indication of the difficulty. First, then, Jung ih a religiously controversial figure. The religious significance of his psychological insights is variously interpreted. John A. Sanford and Morton Kelsey are two well-known authors who have drawn on Jung to promote and understand Christian self-discovery.~ On the other hand, James Hiilman has. maintained that Jung's guidelines to "soul-making" are of a completely different order from the well-known paths to spiritual transformation in Christ and from the insights of the other major religious traditions of the world,z Martin Buber entered into direct conflict with Jung, claiming that the psychology of individuation and Yahwistic faith are diametrically opposedorientations.of the human spirit.3 Jung him-self, as we shall see, gives some indications of his own that the process of individtiation will lead the cognoscentes to the position of being able to dispense with all forms of traditional religious involvement; but he also attempted to offer his psychology as an aid to the pastoral care of souls.4 What 'is one to make of these differences and ambiguities? Obviously, some framework must be found to enable us to enter on the kind of process that Lonergan calls dialectic and foundations: the process, namely, in which we not only assemble and review alternative interpretations, but also evalt~ate and compare them, reduce their affinities and oppositions to their underlyin~ roots,.determine which, if any, of.these roots stand in dialectical ~See, for example,~John A. Sanford, Dreams: God's Forgotten Language (Philadelphia and New York: Lippincott, 1968); Healing and Wholeness (New York: Paulist Press, 1977); Morton Kelsey, Dreams: The Dark Speech of the Spirit, A Christian Interpretation (New York: Doubleday, 1968); Encounter with God: A Theology of Christian Experience (Minneap61is: Bethany, 1972). 2See James Hillman, The Myth of Analysis: Three Essays in Archetypal Psychology (Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1972). I quote from p. 21: "The spiritual-director models of guru, rabbi, oflgnatius or Fenelon, of Zen master, are only substitutions on which we lean for want of surety about the true model for psychology." 3See Edward C. Whitmont, "Prefatory Remarks to Jung~s 'Reply to Buber,' " in Spring: An Annual of Archetypal Psychology andJungian Thought (1973), pp. 188-195; and C; G. Jung, "Religion and Psychology: A Reply to Martin Buber," ibid., pp. 196-203. 4Compare C. G. Jung, "'Is Analytical Psychology a Religion?" (notes on a talk given by Jung, in Sprihg, 1972, pp. 144-148) with Jung's "Psychotherapists or the Clergy," in C. G. Jung, Modern Man in Search of a Soul (New York: Harcourt, Brace, and World, 1933), pp. 221-244. Jungian Psychology and Christian Spirituality: I / 499 opposition to one another in such wise that only a radical transformation of the basic horizon can achieve reconciliation, and, finally, choose that basic horizon and those resultant positions and interpretations which we will make our own.5 Such a framework is what I hope to offer in theopresent article. Secondly,- my own judgments and decisions regarding the potential spiritual fruitfulness of Jung's work are themselves controversial, at least in the sense that they will please neither Jung's detractors nor his enthusias-tic followers. For I will sharply differentiate the process of Christian self-transformation from the way to individuation that .lung maps out for us. But I will also insist with equal force that there is much that we not only can, but indeed must, learn from him in developing both a theology and an ascesis of" spiritual transformation in the context of the contemporary world. Thirdly, the only final arbiter of the kind of discrimination that I find necessary is what we have come to call the'discernment of spirits.lung's theological A.mbiguities, and thealternative interpretations and evaluations that are offered of his work, are symptomatic of an underlying spiritual conflict that can be mediated only in the context of the dialectic ofgrace and of sin, of the Standards of Christ and of Satan. David Burrell has indicated correctly that one cannot fail to meet God if one goes on the inner journey to individuation.6 But one will also meet much.that is not God, and that is even opposed to God. Not only does Jung not help one to discriminate these forces as they operate in one's psyche, but he also contributes to and even encourages the confusion'that can be experienced in such moments that call for discernment, and thus mires one in the conflictual forces that wage an ultimate battle in the depths of one's psyche. Jung's work, if left uncriti-cized, leads one into a psychological cul-de-sac that can assume demonic pi'oportions. Christian Spiritual Transformation As Self-Transcendence ~ ' There are many diverse and quite useful approaches to the understand-ifig'of spiritual transformation. I have chosen to focus on two terms that have been developed by Bernard Lonergan. Lonergan's thought has achieved a great deal of notoriety due principally, it would seem, to its difficulty. I have no intention here of repeating the subtle intricacies of his full argumentation. I will rather present in what I hope are quite under-standable tdrms (he results of that argumentation, and will deal with more 5Bernard Lonergan, Method in Theology (New York: Herder and Herder, 1972), Chapters Ten and Eleven. 6David Burrell, Exercises in Religious Understanding (South Bend: University of Notre Dame Press, 1974), p. 221. 500 /ReviewforReligious, Volume 38, 1979/4 subtle points only to the extent that they are necessary to clarify my basic position.7 I choose Lonergan's approach to the issue of Christian spiritual trans-formation for several reasons. First, it is the approach with which I am most familiar and the one that 1 personally have found most helpful. Secondly, Lonergan explicitly takes his stand in human interiority. And, when we are talking about either spiritual transformation or Jungian psychology, we are talking about the realm of interior experience, about the data of conscious-ness, about such events as insights, judgments, decisions, and, as we will see, dreams. All of these happenings are items that we experience. But we experience them interiorly. None of us has ever seen an insight or a feeling. But I trust, too, that none of us would claim that he or she had never experienced a feeling or an insight, never judged that some proposition was true or false, never made a decision. Moreover, I hope that we all know the experience of wanting to understand, wanting to be reasonable in our judgments, wanting to be responsible in our decisions. For it is in the realm of that desire, and in being faithful to that desire, that Lonergan locates what it is to be an authentic human person. But our experience of these events and of this desire occurs, not in the realm of outer sense, but in the domain of human interiority. It is in interiority that, through these events of understanding, judging, and deciding, we "process" reality. Sensations come in; language goes out; but between sensations and language there is, as Lonergan has formulated it in some recent lectures, the mysterious "little black box" of our interiority. The workings of that little black box are the domain that we concentrate upon in Christian spiritual theology, in Jungian p§ychoiogy, and in any attempt such as the present one that would relate spirituality to psychology. I should mention, in addition, two other advantages that accrue from employing Lonergan's framework for understanding interiority? First, his stress, as I have already indicated, is on human desire, and desire is the area of our being that is illuminated by the explorations also of the great depth ps~ychologists, including Jung, Secondly, and most importantly, Lonergan emphasizes that spiritual development is not something that oc-curs in some realm that is isolated from the insights that we have into the events of our everyday life, from the judgments that we make as to the truth or falsity of the most mundane propositions, from the anxieties we feel and the decisions that we make regarding our orientation and actions as beings-in- the-world. God's saving purpose is a will to save the world itself, to redeem the time of our lives, as Eliot would put it. It is not a dimension of 7There are, of course, dangers in such a procedure, for the reader can easily take the results of Lonergan's explorations as a series of concepts that could dispense one from the task of insight into oneself. There are no short-cuts to the self-appropriation to which Lonergan invites one. But precisely because there are no short-cuts, I can only ask the reader interested in pursuing the process to go to Lonergan's works themselves. Jungian Psychology and Christian Spirituality: reality that is totally extrinsic from the events of understanding, judging, and deciding, that we experience every day. On the other hand, our relation to God is not to be collapsed into a secularistic denial of the supernatural character of grace. Rather, grace is offered in its supernatural character within the events of our everyday lives. So the perspective offered by Lonergan is neither a fundamentalism or extrinsicism that denies the this-worldly character of our lives, nor a secularism or immanentism that ne-glects the absolutely transcendent origin and finality of the relationship to the divine in which we stand at every moment of our lives. What, then, is Christian spiritual development? Lonergan's treatment of this question is provided at the end of a lengthy analysis of human cognitional and moral development that concludes with the realization that the flowering of human potential, the sustained development of the human person, the solution of such social ills as injustice, alienation, and the dominance of totalitarian aspirations in both~the West and East today, are impossible on the basis of human resources alone. We are confronted with a problem of evil in our development as human persons and in the social organization of human affairs. This problem is rooted in our very constitu-tion as human subjects, in our finitude, in the tension between our always limited possibilities and our aspirations to transcend these limitations. I will not go into the intricacies of Lonergan's analysis of the roots of moral impotence. Suffice it to say that he argues persuasively that we are faced with a problem of evil that we are powerless to resolve. If there is going to be a solution to the problem of evil, it must come in the form of redemption. Either there is a divinely originated solution to the problem of evil, or there is no solution at all. If God exists, if God knows of our plight, and if God is good, then there is a divinely originated solution that is offered to our freedom, one that we can accept or reject, and that, if we accept it, will involve us in a whole new area of growth and transformation, an area which we would not even know in any explicit way if God had not come to meet us. This distinct area of development is related to our cognitional and moral development. It is not the product of our knowing and our choosing. It is not something that we vainly imagine, or that we produce by wishful thinking. Rather, it is offered to our knowledge and our freedom as agift. And, if we accept it, it transvalues our values, and provides a new context for Our knowing~ a new atmosphere or environment that enables us to be truly intelligent in our questioning and genuinely reasonable in our judg-ments. This new context is faith, which Lonergan defines as "the eye of love," the eye of the love that is ours, that is the atmosphere in which we live, when we know ourselves as unconditionally loved by, and rooted in, the love that is God's alone.8 8See Lonergan, Insight: A Study of Human Understanding (paperback edition, New York: Harper and Row, 1978), Chapters Eighteen and Twenty; Method in Theology, Chapter Four. 51~2 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 / 4 The divine solution to the problem of evil, then, is God's gift of his love that is poured forth into our hearts by the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.~ Our desire for this love is a natural desire: with Thomas Aquinas, Lonergan insists that we have a natural desire for the vision and love of God.t0 He insists, too, that our subjectivity is mutilated or abolished, unless we are stretching forth towards God: There lies within [our] horizon a region for the divine, a shrine for ultimate holiness. It cannot be ignored. The atheist may pronounce it empty. The agnostic may urge that he finds his investigation has been inconclusive. The contemporary humanist will refuse to allow the question [of God] to arise. But their negations presuppose the spark in our clod, our native orientation to the divine." , Being in love with God, then, is for Lonergan the basic fulfilment of the deepest human desire, that desire that he calls "conscious intentionality." That fulfillment brings a deep-set joy that can remain despite humiliation, failure, privation, pain, betrayal, desertion. That fulfillment brings a radical peace, the peace that the world cannot give. That fulfillment bears fruit in a love of one's neighbor that strives mightily to bring about the kingdom of God on this earth. On the other hand, the absence of that fulfillment opens the way to the trivialization of human life in the pur.suit of fun. to the harshness of human life arising from the ruthless exercise of o, power, to despair about human welfare spnnging from the conviction that the universe is absurd.~ God's love is offered to all men and women at every time and place. This universality of God's self-communication (a notion that he has in common with Karl Rahner) Lonergan speaks of in terms of God's inner word, the word that God speaks in the solitude of our hearts, drawing us to himself. But this love is also embodied, incarnate, revealed for all to see, in the outer word of the life, preaching, death, and resurrection of Jesus.~.'~ "And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, shall draw all men to myself.''~4 The disciples of Jesus through the centuries constitute that community whose task it will.~ be until the end of time to give explicit witness in external words and deeds to the offer of divine love as the only resolution oLthe otherwise hopeless human dilemma of personal incapacity to grow, of social injustice and alienation. As another superb contemporary thinker. Eric Voegelin, has labored for thirty years to argue, no social order that is not permeated with the love of the unseen measure that Christians call God can be just or humanly fulfilling.~5 In language current among those who have followed 9Rm 5:5. ~°See Lonergan. "The Natural Desire to See God." in Collection: Papers by Bernard Loner-gan (New York: Herder and Herder. 1967), pp. 84-95. t~Lonergan. Method in Theology, p. 103. ~21bid. p. 105. talbid., pp. 112-115. t4jn 12:32. ~sSee Eric Voegelin, Order and History, four volumes to date (Louisiana State University Press, 1956-1974). Jungian Psychology and Christian Spirituality: l / 503 recent deliberations Within the Church, faith and justice are inextricably linked in the mission of the disciples of Jesus in the world.16 Christian spiritual transformation, in this context, is thus a matter, first~ of a process of conversion that involves a growing intimacy with the source and fountain of redemptive love, an intimacy that takes the form of being evermore patterned after the example of Christ; and, second, of a growing commitment and ability to participate in the mission of Christ, which is also the mission of that community.whose task it is tb render explicit to the whole world the fact that,.in Jesus the Christ, God has definitively revealed the saving action that he is always working in the world. To be in love with God is also to be sent by God. To grow in the love of God is also to grow in participation in the mission--the saving and revealing mission---of Jesus. Christian spiritual growth thus involves a number of elements: a) One comes to a developing familiarity with God, so that one is able ever more readily and ever more easily to find him and to participate with him in his redemptive work after the pattern of Christ, the suffering servant of God. b) One grows in the ability to discern precisely what it is that God wants of oneself and of one's community, and in the willingness to do what it is that God asks, confident that what one is doing is not one's own work but God's. c) Summing up all of what this development involves, one grows~in self-transcendence. This is the first key term that I take from Lonergan. One grows in self-transcendence, until, in the saint, there is reached a point of the union of one's own understanding, reason, and desire with the knowl-edge and love of God, a union that can only be broadened and heightened, deepened and enriched, but not gone beyond; and a point of self-abnegation and humility that rejoices in sharing the lot of the poor, despised, and humiliated Son of God himself, in his mission of establishing the kingdom of God on earth. Christian spiritual transformation is a matter of continual conversion to self-transcendence, within the community of the disciples of the Lord that is the Church, until there is reached the point where one's understanding, one's judgments of fact and of value, one's desires, and one's choices, while not ceasing to be one's own, are a participation in the understanding, the judgments, the desires, the choices of God himself, working in and through oneself and one's community, to continue and to spread the redemption of the world that only God can effect. If, then, we are talking about Christian spiritual development as a trans-formation of our insights, our judgments, our desires, and our choices, we ~6See the document of the 1971 Synod of Bishops, Justice in the World. See also the Docu~- merits of the 32nd General Congregation of the Society of Jesus, and especially Decree 4, "Our Mission Today." 504 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 /4 are speaking of it as fundamentally a transformation of our interiority, of our basic horizon. The difference that God's solution to the problem of evil makes in the social world, in the world of economics and politics, in the world of institutions and organizations, is a function of the difference it makes in persons, in the unity of personal consciousness, in people's vision and choices. Christian spiritual development, considered most radically; is a transformation of one's understanding and of ~)ne's willingness, so that these two are brought into harmony and cooperation with God's redemp-tive purpose in Christ Jesus and through the community of his disciples. The transformation, once again, is in the direction of self-transcendence, so that, by accepting God'.s offer of both salvation and vocation, one becomes ever more God-centered and Christ-centered in one's apprehensions of value and in one's decisions, in one's pursuit of meaning and truth, and in one's affective engagement with other persons in the dramatic situations that constitute the stuff, the setting, the stage, of one's own personal story and of history itself. Christian Spiritual Transformation as Self-Appropriation Now, besides serf-transcendence, there is another term that Lonergan uses when he speaks of development. That term is self-appropriation. Self-appropriation is a matter of self-knowledge, of self-discovery, of self-understanding. One can bE quite self-transcendent, quite loving and generous, quite genuine in one's relations with others, quite sincere about wanting to understand things correctly, without being very adept at intri-cate and precise self-knowledge.~ One can be, in Lonergan's terms, quite religiously and morally converted without being intellectually converted. 18 Intellectual conversion is a matter of knowing precisely what one is doing when one is pursuing understanding, reaching for truth, trying to decide in responsible fashion. Many people genuinely try to understand, and succeed in doing so, without being able to say precisely what they are doing when they understand, .how their insights are related to their sensations, their questions, their beliefs, their .images, their concepts, their feelings. One can also be quite religiously and morally converted without being what I have called "psychically converted.''~ Psychic conversion is a matter of know-ing what one is feeling, of being able to tell one's story, and to tell it as it is. One,can have a quite genuine and even beautiful life of feeling without being able to tell what he or she is feeling, how this feeling is related .to that, how both feelings are related to the objects they intend, how one's feelings 17See Lonergan, Insight, p. 475. 18On intellectual conversion as self-appropriation, see Lonergan, Method in Theo!ogy, pp. 238-240. ~gSee Robert Doran, Subject and Psyche: Ricoeur, Jung, and the Search for Foundations (Washington, D. C.: University Press of Ainerica. 1977), especially pp. 240-246~ Jungian Psychology and Christian Spirituality: I / 51)5 are related to one's images and symbols, to one's questions and insights, to one's beliefs and ideas. In other words, one can have a quite profound and genuinely self-transcendent interiority without being able to articulate one's inner life with any notable clarity and precision. We all know wonderful and holy people who are quite unsophisticated when it comes to self-knowl-edge, or who will put their self-knowledge in very common sense terms-- people who make at times heroic decisions, but who, when asked why they made this or that decision, or what went on in their minds and hearts which led them so to decide, can answer only, "I don't know; it just seemed to be the right thing to do." Such genuine self-transcendence without self-appropriation is by no means to be disparaged. It is the condition of most good and holy men and women down through the ages, the source of most that is good in human history. But there are factors at work, especially in our age, that seem to indicate that self-appropriatiot~, in addition to self-transcendence, is becom-ing ever more necessary if one wishes to choose responsibly, to judge reasonably, to inquire intelligently, or just if one wishes to know what God wants and does not want. Perhaps there was a time when common sense wisdom and homespun practicality were enough for most people. Perhaps, too, there was a time when the only addition to common sense that some people needed was a good dose of theoretical understanding that was basically in harmony with the Gospel. But there are a number of indications that would seem to argue persuasively that we are now living in a world where self-transcendence, backed up by a common sense framework, or even by a cogent and brilliant theory, is simpl~, not enough; where religious and moral conversion must be complemented by intellectual and psychic conversion; where self-transcendence must be aided and helped, complemented and augmented, by self-appropriation, by precise and even technical self-knowledge, by an ability to articulate just what is going on in one's "little black box." If this be the case, then spiritual transformation today is a matter not only of growing self-transcendence, but also of ever more precise and technical self-knowledge. What are some of the indications that would back up this conviction that I share with Lonergan? Let me talk first about the insufficiency of common sense, and then about the ambiguity of theory. And let me do so within the context of the Church's recent pronounced recognition that the promotion of justice is a constitutive element in the preaching of the Gospel. The paper that issued from the 1971 Synod of Bishops, "Justice in the World," and the statement of Pope Paul VI, Octagesima Adveniens, mark the beginnings, I believe, of a substantial leap forward in the Church's social, political, and economic insight and praxis. One of the few public statements that Pope John Paul I had a chance to make was to the effect that we need a new and worldwide economic order. The achievement of that 506 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/4 order, I believe, is going to demand that we take our stand, and that we enable others to take their stand, not on practical common sense, and not on theory, but on the self-appropriation of our interiority and especially of our orientation to value. Why do I say this? Well, let us treat common sense first, however briefly. One of the cha~'acteristics of practica.I common se.nse is that it not only is incapable of.treating complex, long-range, and ultimate issues and results, but also that it resentfully brushes aside and ignores any attempts to raise questions that are concerned with such issues. It has the world's work to do. and it cannot be bothered by questions that would take time away from doing that work.z° The person exclusively operating from prac-tical common sense is concerned only with "getting the job don~i." Every-thing else mo.tivation, rationale, social organization, interpersonal communication--is oriented to that end. The question of whether the jo.b is worth doing at all. or whether the most expedient way of. doing it is also the most authentic way, is,a bother, yes, but more than that: it is a threat, a subversive question t, hat could overturn the ~ntire project. Rejection pre-cisely of such kinds of questions is what is responsible for the fact that our objective world-situation today can be characterized in terms of opposed totalitarianisms: the totalitarianism of the multinational corporation, pred-icated on the assumption of the need of automatic progress and expansion; and the totalitarianism of the communist state, rooted in the assumption that class conflict can bring the social o, rder into harmony with what is right.2~ Both myths neglect the fact that there are religious, personal, and cultural values that must be pursued in an integral fashion if there is to be a just social order that really provides for the basic needs of all the mem-bers of a society. In both systems, however much theory may. be involved in their establishment, we see operative the bias of practical common sense against the kinds of questions that must be asked if the job is to be done, not only expediently, but also humanely, genuinely, authetically. The ques-tion of integrity is. not just overlooked, but actively repudiated and re-pressed. _ Nor is theory sufficient to reestablish the significance of that question. For there are theories that support the question, but there are other theories that discredit it. The theories of B. F. Skinner or of orthdox Freudian psychoanalysis are just as coherent, just as thorough, just as all-encom-passing, and, for many,just as convincing, as are the theories of a Christian philosophy and theology. The Church's reliance on theory as the ground of praxis arose in the Middle Ages, more specifically with scholastic philosophy. One of the interesting things about that period, though, is that there were not many ~°See Lonergan, Insight, pp. 225-242. ~lbid. Jungian Psychology and Christian Spirituality: theories from.which to choose, and there was not all that much to be learned in order to piece together a convincing theory. Even the disputes in the world of.theory did not touch, as they do today, on the really basic issues, such as the existence of God, the fact of revelation, the ethical end of the human person, the value of a virtuous life, and so on. Right down into the Renaissance, there was so little to be learned that it was possible for one person to be at once an artist, a natural scientist, and a man of practical affairs and we have Leonardo da Vinci to prove it. The need for specialization to master one tiny dimension of reality is a distinctly modern phenomenon. And while one is spending most of one's time specializing in one's own area, one's contemporaries are adding theory upon theory in their specialized domains. And these theories sometimes contradict one another on the most fundamental issues, on issues that every developing adult must confront. But how is one to take a stand, if one has to devote all of one's energies to his specialization? There are issues on which we must judge and on which we must decide if we are to live a human life. Yet there is simply too much to be learned before we can judge and decide.22 Unless we find a ground beyond theory--for it will not do just to fall back on common sense--our situation becomes one of hopeless relativism. It is my contention that this ground-beyond-theorydies in the self-appropriation of human interiority. This point about the need for,a quite technical self-appropriation can be developed at great length; we do not have space to do that here. The point I wish to make in the present context ,is that only through such self-appropriation can one discover the precise relation that obtains between re,!igio~us, personal, and cultural values on the one hand, and the social value of a just economic and political order on the other hand. And one needs to discover these relations, not simply in the abstract, as through some theory of value ,"but in the concrete order in which one is called upon to judge, to decide, and to act. And so I return to my general statement: Christian spiritual transformation is a matter of self-transcendence that, at a certain point, calls fo'r a movement to self-appropriation. Christian spiritual development is a matter of ongoing cbnversion, and ongoing con-version means today not only religious and moral, but also intellectual and p~sychic conversion. The Levels of Consciousness There are five levels of operations that one discovers when one enters upon the project of the self-appropriation of interiority.2"~ Inner and outer sensations, memories, andimages constitute the level of empirical presen- 22Lonergan, "Dimensions of Meaning," in Collection, pp. 252-267. 23On the levels of consciousness, see Lonergan, Method in Theology, Chapters One and Four. Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 / 4 tations. These empirical presentations are organized by understanding, which is a second level of consciousness. For example, if you are reading without any understanding of what I am saying, you are operating at the first, empirical level of operations. If you are reading and understanding what I am saying, your understanding is organizing the empirical presenta-tions into some kind of intelligible whole. You are processing what you hear by the operations that go on in your "little black box." You are operating not only at the first, but also at the second level of o~perations. If, moreover, you not only understand what I am saying but are also trying to judge whether it is correct or not, you have added a third level of operations, where we either assent to, or disagree with, something we have understood. These three levels of operations are what make us to be human knowers. Lonergan calls these levels experience, understanding, and judgment. But we are not just'knowers. There are times in our lives when, after we have made a judgment, "This is t~rue," a further question arises, "What am I going to do about it?" Then we have to decide. And decision constitutes a fourth level of operations. Finally, there is another whole dimension of interior reality that is not dealt with by speaking of the empirical, intelligent, rational, and decisional levels of consciousness. There is a fifth level of consciousness that is a matter of being addressed by and in relation to God. There is the experience of mystery. There is the reality of falling in love with God. There is prayer, worship, mystical experience, the dark night of the soul, the living flame of love, the search for and discovery of the holy, the gift of the divinely originated solution to the problem of evil. Religious self-appropriation, obviously, is a matter of articulating what is going on at that fifth level of consciousness. The means of discovering oneself in one's relation to God are many: there are spiritual direction, retreats, various methods of keeping a journal, and so on. But what is important for us also to appr6priate is the manner in which experience at that fifth level of consciousness has an effect on other levels. The influence of God's grace moves downward in our consciousness. It changes our values (fourth level), so that it provides us with entirely new orientations for our decisions, and enables them to be more self-transcendent. It changes our view of the world, our vision, the way we understand and judge things (second and third levels), and provides us with a determination to under-stand thoroughly and to judge reasonably; and it brings about a harmony and peace at the level of inner sensation, a peace that "the world cannot give," so that our inner being and our bodies rest securely in the love of God. Symbols, Feelings, and Drama Such is the pattern of interiority that is discovered when one enters upon the way of self-appropriation: five levels of consciousness, each related to Jungian Psychology and Christian Spirituality: I / 509 the other, whether we move from~below upwards, or from above down-wards. And now, finally, we are able to locate with precision the region where Jung's discoveries become significant for spiritual development, especially for self-appropriation. For all of the operations that we are talking about--sensing, imaging, remembering (first level), inquiring, understand-ing, putting our understanding into words (second level), reflecting, weigh-ing the evidence, judging (third level), deliberating, deciding, acting (fourth level), praying, worshiping (fifthlevel)--all of these operations are per-meated by feelings. We have feelings about the objects of all of these operations. The operations themselves are always dramatic. When you try to understand, it is because you are confused. When you succeed in un-derstanding, the confusion ceases and you experience satisfaction, maybe even excitement. When you want to know whether you understand cor-rectly, it is because you are not satisfied with just a set of bright ideas; you want to get things right and not just go about spouting opinions. When you have to make a decision, the drama of the situation stands out clearly. Some decisions can be agonizing. All decisions have a great deal of affectivity accompanying them, for we are dealing in decisions with questions of value. And value is something we feel before ever we judge about it or act on it.z4 Finally, fifth-level religious experience has those peculiar sets of feelings that we call "consolations" and "desolations." In sum, we are not just structured conscious operators. We are~also the subjects of a drama, pre-cisely in and through these operations. There is a story to our operating, because there are feelings that permeate all of those operations. Let us focus a bit more on this drama, because it is more complicated than I have so far indicated. In addition to the desire to understand, there is also aflight from understanding (second level). I can flee insight just as passionately as I can pursue it. Moreover, I can resist the truth just as strongly as I can intend it (third level). I can try to escape responsible decision and live a life of ease or of drifting or of hiding my talents, just as persistently as I can conscientiously examine every situation to find the best course of action (fourth level). I can flee contact with God just as passion-ately as I can seek to find him and do his will (fifth level). ~ There are feelings that permeate not only genuine performance at each of the five levels, but also inauthentic actions at each step of the way. The ultimate drama of my life, in fact, is this drama of authenticity and inau-thenticity. The authentic person is the person who pursues understanding, who seeks truth, who responds to what is. really worthwhile, and who searches for God and his will. The inauthentic person is the person who flees understanding, who runs fi:om the truth, who resists further questions 241bid., pp. 31-33. 510 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 /4 about his or her decisions, and who tries to escape God. And those feelings never go away. They are present in the entire drama. They are precisely what make it so dramatic. What. then. are feelings? Feelings are energy-become-conscious. Feel-ings are a~matter of psychic energy. Feelings are the basic sensitive compo-nent of every human operation. Feelings make of spirituality a story. To know one's feeling is to begin to tell one's own story. Feelings are the drive and momentum of the life of the human spirit. Feelings join the spirit to the body in a conscious unity. There is one further aspect to this matter. Feelings always enter con-sciousness through being connected with some representation. Now, the, most basic form of representation lies in symbols. A symbol, Lonergan says, is an image of a real or imaginary object that evokes a feeling or is evoked by a feelingZS; what this means is that there is never a feeling without a symbolic meaning; never a symbol without a feeling. To name one's feelings is to discover the dynamic images, the symbols, that are associated with them. To have insight into one's feelings is to understand the symbolic association. To tell one's story is tomarrate the course of one's elemental symbolizing. And where does one's elemental symbolizing occur in its purest form, untainted by the biases that. in waking life, can lead us to distort our story? The place of elemental symbolizing is in our dreams. It is in the dream that we first are conscious, and it is in the dream that we find a "story" going forward that we cannot distort without being aware that we are doing so.z6 If we want to know our -story" the story of insight, the story of judgment, the story of decision, and the story of prayer--we can find it in our dreams. There is a psychic conversion that puts us into contact with that story. It affects us deeply once it has occurred. For it enables us to judge ourselves in our waking life as authentic or inauthentic in our pursuit of understanding, in our.seeking of truth, in our decisions, and in our search for God. In the next article I will situate Jung's psychology of individuation within this context of the discussion of self-transcendence, and, especially, of self-appropriation. In the third article, though, I will use this same frame-work to criticize .lung's psychology. For Jung did not have an accurate understanding of the structure of our operations as human subjects~ur understanding, our judgments, our decisions, and our search for God. His basic philosophical and theological standpoint did not take its stand on a notion of authenticity as self-transcendence. And this basic flaw renders his contributions to Christian spiritual .development very ambiguous until these contributions are transposed into some such context as I have tried to indicate in the present article. 251bid., p. 64. 26See Doran, "Dramatic Artistry in the Third Stage of Meaning," forthcoming in Lonergan Workshop 11, edited by Frederick Lawrence (Missoula: Scholars Press, 1979). "Matchwood, Immortal Diamond"-- Reflections on Death and Resurrection John Renard, S.J. Father Renard is on the faculty of St. Louis,University. A previous article of Father Renard was entitled "Islamic Spirituality" which appeared in the November, 1978 issue. With:the bitter:sweet clarity that came to him in his illness, ~ohn Donne wrote, "Therefore that He may raise, the Lord throws down.''~ The poet expresse_s a wisidom most of us would rather flee than surrender to; bui our flight from mortality is not always and necessarily a flight toward immortal-ity. Ernest Becket explains the dynamic of the "Jonah Syndrome" by saying that the fear of life often menaces human beings as relentlessly as the fear of death. The "Jonah Syndrome" involves escape from both the apex and the nadir of human potential. It issues in a frantic sear.ch for control of one's destiny to the smallest detail; it deems abstinence from the heights of ecstasy a fair price to pay 'for a shorter fall; it shuns the awesome lest it happen upon the terrible,z Both extremes of the fear ~eem to be rooted in a dread of extinction, whether as annihilation wrought by weakness confronting the ultimate ~This and all other selections of poetry quoted in this paper may be found in the.Norton Anthology of Poetry ('Revised, New York, 1975). "Hymn to God My God, in My Sickness," p. 251. 2Ernest Becker, The Denial of Death (New York, 1973). Term coined by Abraham Maslow; pp. 48 ft. 511 512 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/4 power, or as humiliation wrought by shame in the face of the ultimate glory. I would like to explore both of these aspects of the "Jonah Syndrome." First we will look at the extreme that presents itself more immediately, and which is a more readily recognizable feature of human experience. In that context we will talk of two preeminent characteristics of the experience of Weakness, Shame, and Mortality. Then we will turn to the experience of power, glory, and immortality. In both instances our guideg will be the struggle of great poets to comprehend, the insight of Paul into the incompre-hensible, and the example of Jesus' surrender to the "impossibility" of a life lived across the full spectrum, from being to nothingness and back. Weakness, Shame, and Mortality At the beginning of his chapter on "The Terror of Death," Ernest Becket quotes Sigmund Freud: Is it not for us to confess that in our civilized attitude towards death we are once more living psychologically beyond your means, and must reform and give truth its due? Would it not be better to give death the place in actuality and in our thoughts which properly belongs to it, and to yield a little more prominence to that unconscious attitude towards death which we have hitherto so carefully suppressed? This hardly seems indeed a greater achievement, but rather a backward step., but it has the merit of taking somewhat more into accou.nt the true state of affairs,a Two factors seem most to contribute to a sense of impotence and of the inability to achieve quite enough in one lifespan--and hence to the half-wish for immortality. They are, first, the feeling of time's inexorability, and, second, the conviction that to make a lasting name for myself I must make it for me alone, me the autonomous, me the independent. These twin cliffs of mortality both spell weakness and shame, for the sheer faces of time and of di~sire for self-fulfilment cannot b~ scaled head-on. Nevertheless, the summit is not entirely unattainable. It merely requires the acceptance of "time" and the rejection of encapsulation in oneself. John Donne writes in his "S.atire on Religion:" He's not of none, nor worst, that seeks the best, To 'adore, or scorn an image, or protest, May be all bad; doubt wisely; in strange way To stand inquiring right, is not to stray; To sleep, or run wrong, is. On a huge hill, Craggrd and steep, Truth stands, and he that will Reach her, about must, and about must go, Ahd what th' hill's suddenness resists win so; Yet strive so, that before age, death's twilight, thy soul rest, for none can work in that night. Hard deeds, the body's pains; hard knowledge, too "Matchwood, Immortal Diamond" / 513 The mind's endeavors reach, and mysteries Are like the sun, dazzling, yet plain to all eyes.4 The poet does not advocate pretending the mountain does not exist, nor does he counsel over-confidence as to its vincibility. He does suggest that the most important of attainments are precisely not those which can be attained, but rather those which are allowed to be apparent. It is a question of not denying the obvious, but' also of not taking the obvious for granted. Donne suggests further that mysteries are the very stuff of this life: one had best confront them now, for they set at death's twilight. Time itself is not the poet's nemesis here; the prospect of an untimely death is. As we shall see in the second section of this paper, John Donne found a solution to the problem of time's "unperturbed pace," in his hope of resurrection. As other poets attest, however, not everyone escapes the conviction that time is a vacuum. ,' The Emptiness of Time Many a great poet has written of the vain struggle to deny the marauding burglar of time access to his house. Scarcely a Shakespearean sonne~ but talks of Time's "fell hand," and his "bending sickle's compass," and of the "best jewel from Time's chest., hid." Time is "sluttish,'~ "wasted," "balmy.''5 The young John Milton reflected, "How soon. hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, stolen on his wing my three and twentieth year!" Time was for him, along with the will of heaven, his guide toward his mortal end.6 John Keats, also twenty-three, wrote in a similar vein of his fears that he might "cease to be before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain." His fearful reflections led him to stand alone on the shore of the wide world till Love and Fame sank to nothingness in the face of Time's inevitability.~ At twenty-seven, W. B. Yeats wrote "The Lamentation of the Old Pen-sioner." The aged and discarded man sits sheltered from the rain under a tree and reminisces about how he had once held the center ~f attention in fireside chats "Of love or politics, ere time transfigured me." Though young men once more prepare for combat, the pensioner's "contemplations are of Time thht has transfigured me." Though no woman now turns to look upon him, 'he summons up remembrances of loves past and concludes, "I spit in the face of Time that has transfigured me.''s In his magnificent "Fern Hill," the thirty-two year old Dylan Thomas wrote of his heedless youth when: Nothing i cared, in the lamb-wfiite days, that time would take me Up to the swallow throng.ed loft by the shadow of my hand, 'tNAP p. 246. 5Sonnets 64, 116, 65, 55, 106, 107, NAP pp. 212 ft. SNAP p. 323 rNAP p. 700 SNAP p. 918 514 / Review for Religious, Volume38, 1979 / 4 In the moon that is always rising, Nor that riding to sleep I should hear him (Time) fly with the high fie!ds And Wake to the farm forever fled from the childless 'land~ Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means, Time held me green and dying Though 1 sang in my chains like the sea) ,~ Thomas compressed an entire lifetime into the image of a day, born with the birth of the sun and dying forever under an ever-rising moon. Time was his master: the poet both knew it too,well and, denied it. He was green, but dying; fettered, but singing as though free as the sea. ~ The Fullness of Time Jesus, too/was keenly aware_through his life of the. imminence of an auspicious, even ominous, hour. John's Gospel portrays Jesus early in his public ministry as conscious that hishour would come soon, but had not yet (Jn 7:6 and 30). His later recognition that "the hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified" occurs at.the theological, literary, and even geo-graphical center of John's Gospel (Jn 12:23). It is preceded immediately by. the raising of Lazarus and Mary's anointing of Jesus for burial, .and it is followed immediately by the analogy of the grain of wheat that ~must die. in order to give life. In the Synoptics, too, this crucial hour's striking marks the turning point in Jesus~ life, the fullness of his time. In the Synoptics, however, the theological, literary, and geographical pivot is signalled by Peter',s confession.of Jesus as the Christ and Jesus' decisive reorientation for the journey to Jerusalem (Mr 16:13if; Mk 8:27ff;, Lk 9:18ff). Mark, Matthew, and Luke indicate that it is Peter who is troubled, most of all, by Jesus' prediction of his death, and who tries to dissuade Jesus from his intended course. John, on the other hand, more insistent than the SynOptics on Jesus' awareness of his "tim~ and hour," emphasizes Jesus' own anguish that his time has now come: "Now is-my soul troubled. And what shall Isay? 'Father, save me from this hour'? No, for this purpose I have come.to this hour's' (Jn .12:27). It is an hour of glor.y, but not for Jesus "personally." It is the hour in which his Father's name will be glorifie~l again (Jn 12:28), At this juncture we turn to the second factor that .makes human mortality seem so impotent and dishon6rable--the forever frus-trated yet die-hard desire to make a name for oneself alone. Making a Name: The Delusion of Self-Proclaimed Glory Several years ago a cartoon in a national magazine depicted a handsome young couple in togas seated in an idyllic lakeside glen. The young man gazes into the mirror-smooth lake, and the lady asks, "Is there., someone else, Narcissus? . Everyone," notes Ernest Becket, "enjoys a working aNAP pp. 1166-7 "Matchwood, Immortal Diamond" / 515 amount of basic narcissism,"~° which amounts to a drive for self-protection and self-creation. The more that drive becomes the central life project, however, the moreoenslaving and suicidal it becomes. Chapter two of the Letter to the Philippians is the New Testament's most remarkable.state-ment of Jesus' surrender of his own name for the glorification of his Father's name.~::'He did not count equality with God a'thing to be grasped., but emptied~ ~himself, taking the form of a slave being born in human likeness. And being found in human form he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, death on a cross': (Ph 2:6-8). By "becoming sin who kflew no sin" (2 Co 5:21), Jesus engaged in the ultimate ec-stasy. He rejected the Godly power which alone is immune to the need for striving, in favor of human weakness with its constant struggle for freedom. He rejected the Godly glory which alone is~truly autonomous and peerless, in favor of the shame of common slavery. Power and glory in God are Godly; in human~beings they are merely the produc't of self-aggrandizing,, narcissistic wishfulness. Power and glory in God are His awesomeness and attractiveness; in human beings~they are a pathetic grasp-ing after invulnerability and control, needlessness and Unrelatedness, free-dom from risk.~ That, in the. words of Shakespeare, amounts to "Th' expense of spirit in a waste of shame. . lust in action. In his choice of slavery and emptiness Jesus had even to divest himself of the faintest hope that it would all' have world-redeeming consequences. He had to abandon himself unreservedly to the powerlessness and anonym-ity of the human condition. The colossal irony of his surrender is that, because Jesus forsook his, own name and status, "God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every name, that atthe name of Jesus,every knee should bend., and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father" (Ph 2:9-11). A classic of Chinese tradition called the Tao te Ching spe.aks simply and insightfully of the nature of this paradox: Reality is all-embracing. To be all-embracing is to be self-less. To be self-less is to be all-pervading. To be all-pervading is to be transcendent.~3 Paul elucidates further~ the'implications ~of Christ's self-lessness ~or us. Thb',~ib~e~'ness of self-~areservation must "yield to the folly' of the Cross, "For~tlie. fo61ishness~ of God is wiser than humankind, and the Weakness of l°op. cit., p. 22 ~For further excellent discussion of power and autonomy, see John Dunne's The Way'of All the Earth (New York, 1972), pp. 4-26. ~aSonnet 129, NAP 216 ~aChang Chung-yuan, Tao: A New Way of Thinking (New York, 1975), p. 42. 51!5 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/4 God is stronger than humankind." Self-proclaimed power and glory must yield to a confession of "shame and confession," as in the meditations on sin in St. Ignatius' Spiritual Exercises, for "God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are" (1 Co .1 and 2, quoting 1:25, 27). Jesus' own acquiescence in the arrival of his "hour" and his preference for namelessness led him to the folly of the Cross, that our "faith might rest not in human wisdom, but in the power of God" (1 Co 2:5). And all the heavenly host shouted: "Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and giory.~. And the four living creatures said, 'Amen'" (Rv 5:12, 14). Power, Glory and Immortality If reflection on the ravages of time and change is a common theme in the great poets, musing on what may lie beyond death are no less prominent. "Death once dead," says the Bard, there's no more dying then.''14 Shake-spearc's is a rather cold resignation in that poem. A more hopeful note is heard in Wordsworth's "Intimations of Immortality": 0 Joy! that in our embers Is something that doth live, That nature yet remembers What was so fugitive.15 Another facet of "nature's memory" is the subject of "The Root Cellar'" by the twentieth-century poet Theodore Roethke. Observing nature's stubborn refusal to become extinct, he tells of how in a lowly earthen dungeon all things strain after survival. In that cellar "Nothing would give up life: Even the dirt kept breathing a small breath."16 In "The Far Field," Roethke writes of how "All finite things reveal infinitude." I am renewed by death, thought of my death, The dry scent of a.dying garden in September, The wind fanning the ash of a low fire. What I love is near at hand, Always, in earth and air.1~ The same W. B. Yeats who had written about the Pensioner who spat in the face of Time, later wrote a play called The Resurrection. The p~lay climaxes with a song about the demise of the ancient rites at~the appearance of the Risen Christ who now stands on the stage. The song is a different kind of reflection on how the passing of time exhausts human power and glory to make way for Christ's power and glory: t4Sonnet 146, NAP :p. 217 ~SNAP p. 603 ~6NAP p. 1131 ~TNAP p. 1138-9 "Matchwood, Immortal Diamond" / 517 Everything that man esteems Endures a moment or a day.: Love's pleasure drives his love away. The painter's brush consumes his dreams; The herald's cry, the soldier's tread Exhaust his glory and his might: Whatever flames upon the night Man's own resinous heart has fed.Is Few poets have prayed in our tongue more fervently than John Donne. In the"Holy Sonnets" Donne vacillates between terror in the face of death and the hope that death will lose its sting and concede victory to the Resurrection. "Thou hast made me, and shall Thy work decay?" he asks his Lord.~° Ever awareof his need to ask forgiveness, the poet exhorts the angels to trumpet into resurrection all mortal humanity "At the round earth's imagined corners.''2° Donne then becomes a seventeenth century Paul in one of his best known sonnets: Death, be not proud, though some have call6d thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou are not so; For those whom thou thinkst thou dost overthrow Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me. From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be, Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow, And soonest our best men with thee dO go, Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery. Thou 'art slave to fate, chance, kings and desperate men, And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell, And poppy' or charms can make us sleep as well And better than thy stroke; why swellst thou then? One short sleep past, we wake eternally ' And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.2~ For the original Paul, all that the poe.ts have hinted at, pined for, groped after, and, perhaps, found, is embodied in Christ as image of the invisible God. Christ "reflects the glory of God" and "sustains the universe by his word of power" (Heb 1:3). By that word we are "strengthened with all power, according to the glory of his might" (Col l:l l). The "small breath" of the earth in Roethke's "Root Cellar" is the treasure we carry "in earthen vessels, to show that the transcendent power belongs to God and not to us." We carry in our bodies "the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in oOr bodies" (2 Co 4:7, 10-11). Our universal experience of being "thrown down" in the wasting of our outer nature can-not quench'Wordsworth's "embers" of renewal in our inner nature (2 Co 4:16). It is merely a thorn in the flesh, a reminder that God's "power.is made ~SNAP pp. 927-8 19Sonnet I, NAP p. 248 2°Sonnet 7, NAP p. 249 ~Sonnet 10, NAP p. 250 51~1 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 / 4 perfect in weakness." For that reason Paul could happily boast of his weakness so that the power of Christ might rest on him (2 Co 12:9). The exultant herald's cry and the victorious soldier's tread exhaust their power and glory. Christ's defeat on the cross manifests his all the more, "For he was crucified in weakness, but lives by the power of God." As a result, Christ now deals with us not in weakness, butin power (2 Co 13:3-4). Paul therefore prays that he be able~ to accept his humanity and its impo-tence, in order to~ know Christ and the, power of his resurrection, which will "change our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by,the power which enables him even to subject all things to himself" (Ph 3:8-H, 21). The Apostle prays for,us, too, that we might share in that power and glory and life. Speaking of his own suffering as the glory of the Ephesian Christians, Paul prays That acc6rding to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power interiorly through his Spirit. ; that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have power to comprehend., the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to do far more abundantly than all we ask or think, to him be glory . (Ep 3:13-21). Paul further clarifies the nature of the revivifying power of Christ's love as he describes the different degrees of glory proper to the various earthly and heavenly bodies. Using the same metaphor of sowing and growth suggested in Ephesians in the words "rooted in love," the author writes in 1 Co 15:42-3: "What is sown is perishable, what is raised is imperishable. It is sown in shame, but raised in glory. It is sown in weakness, but raised in power." The full mystery and many-sided paradox of how weakness becomes power; shame glory, and mortality immortality is beautifully summed up in John Heni'y Newman's Parochial and Plain Sermon entitled "The Cross of Christ, the Measure of the World." Newman says that the Cross has brought together and made consistent all that seemed discordant and aimless. It has taught'us how to live, how to use this world, what to expect, what t~ desire, what to hope. It is the tone into which all the ~trains of this world's music are ultimately to be resolved.22 To resolve th~se discordant strains, Chris~ endu,red,every paradox. To teach us how to live with ambiguity and in~.security, Christ put mystery in place Qf what we would otherwise try to solve as a mind-teasing puzzle. To unburden us of the curse of the Law, Christ became accursed o~n the Tree. To obtain for us that which we most grasp at, Christ unhanded ~l~i. To transform our folly into wisdom, Christ became foolishness. To free us from sin, Christ became sin. To loose the bonds of our servitude, Christ became 22Parochial and Plain Sermons, London, 1875, Vol. 6, p. 85. ° ~ "Matchwood, Immortal.Diamond" / 519 a slave. To empower our impotence, Christ became weakness itself. To ransom us from bankruptcy, Christ became poverty. To glorify our dis-honor, Christ became shame. To fill our vacuum, Christ emptied himself. All of which prompted G. M. Hopkins to write in his poem, "That Nature is a Heraclitean Fire and of the Comfort of the Resurrection": "In a flash, at a trumpet crash, ! am at once what Christ is, since he was what I am, and this Jack, joke, poor potsherd, patch, matchwood, immortal diamond, is immortal diamond.''23 23NAP p. 905 Now Available As Reprint An Apostolic Spirituality~for the Ministry of Social Justice by Max Oliva, S.J. Price: $.50 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 St. Luke's Use of the Temple Image Frank X. Reitzel, C.R. Father Reitzel is a member of the Congregation of the Resurrection who has spent most of his active years in his priesthood teaching English literature at the high school, university and seminary levels. He has also done considerable work in counseling, spiritual direction and retreat work. Presently he is on a sabbatical leave doing research study at the Gregorian University in Rome. His address on leaving Rome will be: Resurrection College; Westmount Road North, Waterloo; Ontario, Canada N2L 3G7. Father Reitzel hopes that the present article will form the chapter of a projected book on the concept and image of the Temple as a means of prayer. Part I he Odyssey is most often mentioned as the classic example in literature of the use of thenliterary device or symbol of a journey within which to frame a story. It is important, however, to remember, that every journey has a goal or end to be attained. For Ulysses it was to return to his homeland and there to lay rightful claim to his kingdom, his queen and his home. The traditional name for such a story is epic. St. Luke's Greek cultural back-ground is sufficient evidence on which to base a presupposition that he was familiar with this story form of a journey ending in a kingdom reclaimed. Both his Gospel account and The Acts of the Apostles have epic qualities built on the basic image of a journey. The intention of this paper, however, is to focus attention on the goal of that journey, the Temple at Jerusalem, as Luke uses it in his Gospel in order to show that an awareness of this image can aid a reflective and prayerful reading of the text of the third gospel. The journey theme and the Temple image are equally evident in Acts; but I shall refer to these only in passing. 520 St. Luke's Use of the Temple Image / 521 The Journey It is now generally accepted that the journey theme is an important factor, in the literary structure of Luke's version of the story of the life, death and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth. In every epic the arena of the journey is vast, sweeping from one end of the known world to the other; for Jesus it really begins in heaven and ends there. The action that takes place on earth within the limits of time and space tells of his journey from Nazareth to Jerusalem. At Jerusalem is the focal point and goal of the journey, the Temple. By using principles of literary criticism we can discover that Luke has artistically placed his references to the Temple at significant places in his narrative. I suggest that the position of these references clearly and deliber-ately divides the text of the Gospel, for artistic and meditative purposes, into a five-part structure that is similar to that of classical epics and dramas. Paradise Lost, for example, is constructed in twelve books or movements in which the poet John Milton retells the tragic story of the loss of paradise by Adam and Eve. The number twelve, referring to the twelve months of the year, symbolizes a full-life span or a life's journey. In his second epic, Paradise Regained, Milton uses the more compressed five-movement structure to tell the story of.Christ's cosmic struggle with Satan. In every case the artist freely chooses what he considers to be the proper and fitting frame for his work or story. In order to enhance his retelling of the inspiring story of Jesus that had been-handed on to him Luke employs a similar five-part structure. Later, in his account of the beginnings of the Church, he describes the missionary journeys of Peter and Paul in a two-part structure similar to that of many modern dramas. Moreover, in both works Luke uses carefully placed refer-ences to the Temple at Jerusalem as a central image which unifies the structure and the story of the Gospel as Luke presents it to us. An aware-ness of this image and its function can aid us in using Luke's Gospel as a guide to prayer and a means of personal growth. Reliable Scripture scholarship has shown that the author of the third Gospel was a man of Greek birth and culture who wrote for a Greek Christian audience. Like Paul (arid like ourselves) Luke had not been a contemporary eye-witness of Jesus. He had learned and been inspired by the story of Jesus as he had received it from the apostolic eye-witnesses such as Peter. He wrote to Theophilus, to persons of similar culture and background, that is, to all those like Theophilus in the world. But if we are his audience why does he use the center of Jewish worship as one of his main images? The Temple Image Temples have played a pa.rt in almost every culture; but they differ in one significant feature from the Temple at Jerusalem. A temple for all 522 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/4 pagans (gentiles) was a holy place; it was the house of the gods. But for the Israelites, Yahweh, the One True God, actually manifested his presence in his chosen dwelling place on Mount Zion. The Israelites were prepared and they were often called upon to protest that belief with their lives. They did not just casually believe this--they knew that God dwelt in their midst. No matter where he might be, the devout Israelite could face east to the Temple and enter into prayerful communion.with his God; he could experience an immediate and personal realization of the presence of Yahweh. The ideal, of course, was to make the journey to Jerusalem and there actually present oneself to God, as he had. commanded: "Three times a year all your men-folk must present,themselves before the Lord Yahweh" (Ex 23:17)? Similar references to. this belief and practice in the Old Testament are numerous. The visions of many of the prophets took place in the Temple. It was there that Isaiah (Is 6) and Jeremiah. (Jr 1) w.ere commissioned by God to go forth on their prophetic journeys to .his people. The prophet Amos had condemned the unjust and unprayerful uses that some people made of the place of worship, emphasizing, thereby, that God',s presence, not the bricks and mortar, was of importance. Whenever his people turned to false gods and rejected him, Yahweh abandoned them and their Temple. Each time in history that the bricks-and-mortar temple was destroyed it graphically symbolized Yahweh's displeasure with his ~.people and his ab-sence from them. Through the psalmist as through the prophets, Yahweh insisted that the Temple was sacred because he chose to dwell there. He promised to be with his p.eople as long as they were faithi'ul to him; if they betrayed him, he would withdraw his presence and the Temple, no longer sanctified, would be destroyed. That history and thai faith, were a part of the Judaeo-Christian heritage handed on to Luke. That is evidenced by the fact that his Gospel ends,with the statement that praying and worshipping in the Temple at Jerusalem continued to be a normal practice of Christ's followers after the ascension. And at the beginning of Acts Luke indicates that the same mentality and practices continued to prevail. The disciples, he tells us, went up to the Temple each day at the prescribed liturgical hours to pray (Ac 2:46; 3:1). A shift was beginning to evolve, however; Luke says that for "'the breaking of the bread" they met in private homes. They were Christian-Jews; though a gradual change was "taking place in their worship, they had n6t broken away from their Hebrew. Temple-centered roots. That break would Occur later. But at the time of Luke's writing the Temple was still regarded as the House of Prayer, the place where God made himself manifest among his l~eople. ~Biblical quotations in this article have been made from The Jerusalem Bible (New York: Doubleday & Co., 1966); and from The R. S. 'V. Interlinear Greek-English New Testament, by Rev. Alfred Marshall (London: Samuel Bagster and Sons Ltd. 1978). St. Luke's 'Use of the Temple Image / 523 The Literary Structure It is perfectly acceptable in literature to use poetic devices to emphasize certain features of the text. Luke artistically uses repeated references to the Temple.in order to draw the listener or reader to a more reflective and prayerful attention,to the words and the story action o,f his Gospel. Luke's story of Jesus of Nazareth, which has as one of its themes the struggle between good and evil, is based on a five-part.division. An aware-ness~ of this structure and its main themes can assist us in a reflective and prayerful reading of this account of the gospel. It is important to note that this dramatic and reflective outline (given below) does not run counter to nor violate the exacting topical outline that exegetes suggest for study of the text. This literar~y and meditative approach emph~asizes the dramatic quali-ties of the cosmic struggle between Christ and Satan and recognizes the artistic unity in Luke's use 9f the Temple as a focal image. An Outline For Meditation For careful study of the text, commentaries generally outline Luke's Gospel in the following way:2 ~ (1) The Prologue 1:1-4 (2) The Infancy Narrative 1:5--2:52 (3) The Preparation for Ministry 3:1--4:13 (4) The Galilean Minis~try 4:14---9:50 (5) The Journey Na~ative .~ 9:51--19:28 (6) The Jerusalem Ministry 19:29--21:38 (7) The Passion and Glorification 22:1--24:53 ¯ This can be a valugble g~u.ide to discover what Luke tells us about Jesus, his teaching and 'his ministry. It acknowledges the importance of the jour-ney, but only as a pan,of the outli.ne rather than as a theme throughout the entire gospel. According to his introduction, however,. Luke wrote for a prayerful and reflective audience in an artistic way so as to spark the imagination, the feelings,jthe.heart of his readers and to focus attention on the Person of Jesus in order to open their ears and eyes to respond as fully as possible to the message of the Lord as Luke presents it to them. Jesus taught his disciples that his 'message is best heard in prayer and the graces to respond to it best received in prayer. For such a prayerful consideration and use of Luke's text of the gospel I suggest the following outline. PROLOGUE: 1:1-25 ' (a) Introduction: why and to whom he writes. (b) Milieu: time and pl~ce. 2James A. Michener, The Source (Greenwich, CT: Fawcett Publications, 1967), p. 266. 524 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/4 Zachariah; the Temple scene, in the sanctuary. ACT I: Infancy: Prepare for life. Begins in the Temple: Pre-sentation. Introduces John the Baptist; then Jesus. Closes with the Temple scene. ACT II: Preparation For Mission: ~ Mission, decision, conflict. Career of John the Baptist; genealogy of Jesus. The temp-tations, ending with the Temple image. A hint that Jesus and Satan will meet again. ACT III: Journey and Ministry: Jesus, led by the Spirit, begins his journey toward Jerusalem; He commences his public teaching. A special mention of the Temple (18:10). The section closes with Jesus taking possession of the Temple. ACT IV: Temple and Contest: Jesus teaches daily in the Temple. His enemies plot to kill him. Example of the widow's offering. At night Jesus withdraws from the Temple to the Mount of Olives. 1:26-2:52 3:1-4:13 4:14-19:48 20:1-21:38 ¯ Act V: Conflict: 22:1-24:52a Passion, death and resurrection of Jesus. Signal phrase: "Satan enteri~d." Judas goes to the priests. Trial; condemnation; death. Veil of the Temple is torn. Resurrection and ascension. EPILOGUE: ~ 24:52b-53 The apostles begin their journey in the Tem-ple. The Good News for Prayer In my outline of Luke's gospel, I have indicated that each of the major divisions end witha'specific use of the image of the Temple. In every case of these references the use flows smoothly and naturally out of the thought and action of the story. Artistically, the Temple image serves the same purpose as a major refrain in a symphony or opera; the audience hears it in the background and is reminded~of a principal character or of the primary theme of the work. Like an organist, Luke is able to play on three manuals at once. He uses the image of the Temple, repeated at significant moments in his text, to weave into a unity the principal themes of the life story of Jesus of Nazareth. St. Luke's Use of the Temple Image / 595 The Temple image establishes the goal of the journey theme and gives it a continuity throughout the whole of the gospel as Luke presents it. Moreover, this image repeated at important instances in the narrative emphasizes and gives a continuity to the main theme of the story of Jesus: his life, death and resurrection. In the course of his journey to Jerusalem, Jesus makes allusions to and direct prophecies, of his death, and resurrec-tion, such as: "The. Son of Man" he said "is destined to suffer grievously, to be rejected by the elders and chief priests and scribes and to be put to death, and to be raised up on the , third day" (Lk 9:22). But it is the carefully placed references to the Temple that hold this theme of death and resurrection before our eyes throughout the text of this gospel. For at the end of each major section, designated in the outline above, when reference is made to the Temple something ends and something new begins; death and resurrection are symbolized. In the end the Temple of brick and mortar would be destroyed, as Jesus prophesied, to be replaced forever by the eternal Temple of the Risen Christ. Evidence in Greek Terms The literary prologue (1:9-25) ends with the priestly action of Zachariah in that sacred area of the Temple, the sanctuary, while the people wait outside praying. The events recorded in this episode are interpreted as a signal of the end of the Old Testament and the beginning of the New. It is significant that in the Greek text Luke uses the specific term "sanctuary" or "holy place" (naos) three times in this prologue as his reference to the Temple: (1:9;22). He does not use this term again until after Christ,s death on the cross when he, tells us dramatically, with the tearing of the veil of the "Temple" (naos), that the old has ended and the new has begun~(23:45). There are, however, some instances in the course of his narrative in which Luke makes reference to the Temple or to the sanctuary :with a more general Greek term "the house of God" (oikos theou), because the refer-ence at such times is not essential to the narrative structure. When, for example, Jesus speaks o.f. the prophet "who was murdered between the altar and the sanctuary" (Lk I1:5 l), Luke uses the Greek term, "the house of God" (oikos theos). When, however, the reference is made to the Temple proper and is essential to the narrative structure, he uses the precise Greek term the Temple (hieros). This is the word which he uses at the end of each of the major sections that I have designated as acts in the above outline, as well as in the last verse, the literary epilogue, of his gospel account. Accord, ing to scholars3 Luke.was following a reliable tradition in his use of these 3The Jerome Biblical Commentary, ed. Raymond E. Brown, Joseph A. Fitzmeyer, Roland E. Murphy (New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, 1968), p. 119, 44:19. (For subsequent notes this will be referred to as JBC.)--There is a°good outline of Luke's Gospel for meditative reading in The Gospel According to St. Luke. ed. Alois St6ger (London: Burns & Oates, 1969), two volumes. 526 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 / 4 Greek terms,, and should not be accused of inconsistency. Of importance in the present consideration,~ however, is Luke's use of the term "the Tem-ple" (hieros), with all its sacred and imaginative connotations from the Old Testament as well as its Christian ,associations with the life of Jesus. This is the" term which Luke uses when he refers to the Temple scene (2:46) with which he completes his narrative o'f~the infancy of Jesus. Simi-larly, he ends with this same Temple image what | have designated as Act II, which describes Jesus' preparation for his mission:" Jesus rejects the third temptation 6f Satan who had led him "to the pinnacle of the Temple" (4:9) and begins his public ministry. With one special excepiion (18:9-14), Luke does not use this precise term for the Temple again until the ehd of the third'section of his narrative (indicated as Act III)when Jesus enters the Temple and forcefully takes possession of it as his Father's house (19:45-46). In e~,ery case when Luke uses this term; we notice that there is an end and a beginning; the life-death-resurrection theme is symbolized in the Temple. At this part of the narrative (19:48) the actual suffering and death of Jesus are imminent, for the growing opposition of his enemies has become a calculated decision to destroy him. Throughout Act IV Jesus teaches daily in the Temple area (hieros); but at night for his own safety he withdraws to the Mount of Olives. He continueS to use the Temple for his mission, but he has begun to abandon it; it is no longer a place of safety for him. In Act V, his rejection of the Temple of bricks and mortar is completed in ~he violent tearing of the veil of the Temple (23:45) to signal the beginning of the reign of Christ. In the epilogue, Luke tells us that the apostles went to the Temple after the ascension of Jesus to await, in, prayer, their call to journey and mission. Each dramatic section of this outline of'the action 0f Luke's gospel closes with a precise use of the image of the Temple which, I ~uggest, holds up before the reflective reader the main theme 'of the life, death and resurrection of the story of Jesus. A reflective and careful exami-nation of even a few' of these sections will bear this out. The Prologue As Prayer ' Luke says that although his readers are familiar with the story of the life bf Jesus, he intends "to write an ordered account." I Shggest that his purpose is to write :an artistic and' meditative account of the Gospel in order to lead his refiders to prayer and a deeper consideration of the events o~ that story. The prologue (as I have designated it, verses ! to 25) can be used as a unit for prayer which inv~olves the whole person of th6 reader. For study purposes exegetes rightly identify as prologue 6nly the first ~our°verses~, because theseare writtenin very stylized and formal-Greek. That is proper to a formal introduction; but a literary prologue, besides'addressing the work to the~hudience, also links it to the past and gives.th'e~ audience some hints of the principal themes in the action that is to follow, The formal introduction, that is the first four verses, appropriately ,addresses the St. Luke's Use of the Temple Image / 597 Gospel to Theophilus anti to everyone who professes a love of God. Verses 5 to .7 make the link: this is not going to be. a Gr~eek story, but one set in Israel. The first personages to whom we are introduced are two of the finest people that culture and religion produced: "Both were just in the sight of God and scrupulously observed all the commandments and observances of the Lord" :(1:6). Every word of this quotation is rich in history, meaning and imagery. The word "just," often translated as "righteous," "worthy," -"virtuous," is a summary of the history of God's dealings with the Hebrew people. We should also be aware of the suggestive power of names such as Zachariah: "His name means 'Yahweh has remembered'.TM A note of tragedy is sounded with the words that Elizabeth was barren; but the author hastens to set his scene for the main action and to suggest his main themes. It is the solemn hour of, w9rship in the sacred dwelling place of the True God. It is one of the great moments of Zachariah's priestly career; he has been chosen by lot to offer the incense in the sanctuary. While the faithful outside continue in prayer, Zachariah is plunged into a deep mystical ex-perience. Luke's mention of the angel Gabriel (1:19) is regarded as a signal that the new age is about to begin? The same angel had commanded the prophet Daniel to tell his people that their exile and oppression were at an end and that a messenger would come to herald the advent of a new era (Book of Daniel, chapters 9 and 10). By drawing attention to several pa~al-lels between Zachariah's experience and that of Daniel (such as the evening hour of prayer and their being left speechless6) Luke implies that God is about to fulfill his promise and begin that new era. With this incident in the Temple Luke also symbolizes the coming to an end of the Old Covenant and the beginning of the New. This. of course, will be developed and made increasingly more clear as the narrative unfolds. For the moment, this is the hour for which the whole world has been waiting. God is about to enter into the history of man. By closing the prologue with a reference to the Temple (l:.22).Luke esta~blishes a pattern for his symbolizatio.n of a life-death-resurrection t.heme which will be repeated throughout the gospel-story at the end of each significant dramatic section. Use of Imagination in Prayer A studious reading of the Gospel is important to avoid mere flights of 4Theological Dictionary of the New Testament. ed. Gerhard Kittel; trans. G. W. Bromiley (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Wm. E~rdmans Publishing Co. 1965). For "hieros" see 111. pp. 221-247. For "naos". IV, pp. 880-890. (Subsequent references m these notes will be to Kittel.)~Klaus Baltzer, in "The Meaning of the Temple in the Lukan Writings.'" Harvard Theolog!cal Review (Misso~ula. Montana: Scholars' Press) 58 (1965), pp. 263-277. regards Luke's use of terms for the Temple as "inconsistent." 5JBC, p. 121, #44:27. 6JBC, p. 121, 4#44:28. Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 / 4 fancy, and the use of a good commentary can be of invaluable help. But,a prayerful approach through the use of imagination and other faculties will prevent the opposite errbr of regarding the Gospel as a mere intellectual exercise book. St. Luke's Gospel is a prayer book of the highest merit. But we must bring to it our whole selves as human beings; all our senses and faculties must be employed in our praying. The passage designated as the. end of Act II (2:41-52) is an exemplary unit of action and dialogue which can be momentarily lifted out of the context and used for meditation which involves our whole person in it. ThE opening sentences immediately direct our thought and imagination to Jerusalem and draw us into the journey of Jesus. "Every year" and "Passover" should be equally significant words to us as they were for the people of Jesus' own day. The first activity"is in the world of human, every-day affairs and should alert us to the fact that prayer begins and take~ place in the world of events, circumstances, and persons in the course of our daily lives. Hence, we take our place among friends and acquaintances, with Jesus and Mary. We, too, are going up to Jerusalem, to the Temple, for a joyful celebration. The text, of course, leaves the details of the visit to our imagination. Our prayer at this level might valuably draw us to dwell upon 'what happened at the Temple when Jesus celebrated his entry into adulthood. However,~that can only be surmised; we should not allow our-selves to be sidetracked by it. The text urges us to follow more closely; it puts the emphasis on what occurs after the ceremony of Jesus' Bar Mitz-vah, The return trip to Nazareth is usual and all that might be expected after aj0yful visit to the Temple. Again, it is the world of everyday experience. Jesus was not with his parents, but "they assumed he was with the cara-van." They were conscientious parents and looked for him. No panic is suggested in their action: "They sought him among acquaintances and relations." Where else would one look for a normal twelve-year-old boy who had just experienced the excitement of receptiofi into adulthood? However, "when they failed to find him," anxieties

Transcript of an oral history interview with Maurice Homer Smith, conducted by Jennifer Payne at Colonel Smith's home in Northfield, Vermont, on July 30, 2013, as part of the Norwich Voices oral history project of the Sullivan Museum and History Center. Maurice "Moe" Smith was a member of the Norwich University Class of 1934 from Morrisville and Hyde Park, Vermont. After graduating from Norwich University, he taught school in Barton, Vermont, for a couple of years before joining the Army and serving in the military from 1940 to 1956. He later returned to Norwich University as an employee, working many different jobs over eighteen years. At the time of this interview, he was Norwich University's oldest living alumnus at age 102. ; Page 1 Colonel Maurice Smith, NU 1934, Oral History Interview July 30, 2013 112 Winter Street, Northfield VT 05663 Interviewed by Jennifer K. Payne Transcribed by Lindsay J. Gosack, February 4, 2014 Edited by C.T. Haywood, '12, January 13, 2015 Jennifer Payne (JP): This is Jennifer Payne with Maurice Homer Smith. The date is Tuesday, July 30, 2013, and we're at his home at 112 Winter Street in Northfield, VT. So let me start with some of the basic questions. I know we've gone over some of this, but this is just for the people who will hear it for the first time. Um, which class, what are you, what is your Norwich class? Maurice Homer Smith (MHS): 1934. JP: And, ah, your date of birth? MHS: 26 July, 1911. [sound of a door opening and closing in background] JP: Which makes you? MHS: 102 JP: 102 MHS: [Chuckles] I'm being interviewed here, FRIEND OF MHS: Go ahead! MHS: Can you stand by? MHS: Sit down. [Introducing someone] This is my buddy. We play cribbage together. [Friend chuckles] FRIEND OF MHS: We met. MHS: Huh? FRIEND OF MHS: I said we've met. JP: We have met. [Moe chuckles] MHS: Oh you have? Oh I did not know that. JP: Um so, um, do you have any other names you are known by? Page 2 MHS: Uh [slightly clears throat] well Moe is most of the names. I, in the, in the three years I was in Japan I was called Hank 'cause when they asked me what my middle name was, which is Homer, it's ugly. That was my father's first name. So I said Henry, so they called me Hank. And so even the official Commanding General Yokohama command wrote me a letter and they knew they called me Hank so he addressed it (this was official mail): Major Henry Smith [laughs and coughs]. JP: So where were you born, Moe? MHS: I was born in Hyde Park, Vermont. JP: Were you born at home? MHS: Yes, yes, I was born at home, in the home. I guess most people were in those days, yup. JP: Yeah. MHS: Morrisville now has a hospital, has Copley Hospital, and if it had it then I'd have been born there in the Copley, but they didn't have it then. JP: When you were at school, what was your major? MHS: In college, [sighs] it was language was one. I had [clears throat] really three majors. You normally don't have three majors, but my academic advisor, K.R.B. Flint, told me, said, "You've got the equivalent of three majors." So there's language, which was Spanish, language, I think social, uh, history, and political science. So I had three majors. He said, "you have enough credit in each one of those to declare a major." So I had three majors. JP: Wow MHS: Normally you have a major and two minors or some combination. But, he said, "You got three majors." [laughs] JP: What was your… I know you've had a number of different jobs, but what do you consider your occupation? MHS: Well, I would say most of my life was the Army. I went in the Army full time. I was on, day one, I was in Fort Knox, was activated on June 15, 1940. And that's when the Armored Force came into being. I was there four days before that and the—I was assigned to the 37th Calvary Regiment, cavalry regiment. So when I got down there my advisor said, "Calvary is out, Armor is in." So he said, "get yourself a place to live, you can't live on the post, we don't have room for you." So I went to Elizabethtown, Kentucky, which is about seventeen miles from the post. And, uh, [laughs] what was I about to say though? JP: Your occupation was in the military.Page 3 MHS: Yeah, was in the military. So I've been in the military, well, sixteen years. I went in in 1940 and came out in '56. JP: Wow. MHS: So it was sixteen years. So I was going, at twenty years, you can retire in twenty years on fifty percent, so that's what I was shooting for. And I was in Chicago at the time and I wanted to stay in. And I liked it, I liked my job, liked my work, liked the people. And my mother called up and said, "If you want to come home," which I didn't want to do, and said, "Your father will sell his shares of the drive in theaters to you." So she wanted me to come home, and so I came home after sixteen years in the Army. And but I didn't really want to. And so I bought out my father's share of the Green Mountain Drive-in Theaters Incorporated and drive-in theaters. The largest one in the state was in Newport and then one in Morrisville. And so that's what I did. And then, then I came down to Norwich, and so but I still owned the theaters, but I took the dividends. I didn't work, never did work at the theaters, didn't have to, so I just took my dividends. At that time I think we got $10,000 a year, which is pretty good money, separate. So I had five incomes: Social Security, Norwich, and I'm full time at Norwich, what was the job I said I had? And I had five jobs either way. And so I had a pretty, pretty nice income, so I was living high on the hog. Sent Bill to Northeastern, my son. He didn't do anything, and he is smart enough to do it, but he didn't. He didn't like it. He came back. He said one semester and said, "College isn't for me." So he went off in carpentry and did his own thing. And that's what he wanted to do, so. JP: Wow. So why didn't you want to leave the military? MHS: I didn't want to leave the military, because like I said I had sixteen years and at twenty years you get two and a half percent a year. So if I stayed in for twenty years, I would have gotten, I was a colonel, I would have gotten fifty percent of a colonel's full pay. The maximum is 75%. You could stay in long enough to get 100%, but it stops at 75%. And I would have gotten four more years. I wanted to stay in, I did not want to get out, but mother wanted me to get out and so I did. But I, I…Chicago was my last duty station and so I think I made a mistake, but it doesn't make any difference. I probably made more money by getting out than I did by staying in, so [chuckles]. JP: So it was the money, it was the income, the plan, yeah. So you were born in Hyde Park and you moved to Morrisville as a youngster? MHS: One year, I asked my mother when we moved, she said, "you were about a year old when you [moved]." Hyde Park is only about three miles from Morrisville. I was born at Hyde Park and a year later, so I grew up in Morrisville. And graduated from Peoples. JP: Academy? MHS: Academy. JP: Yeah, how did you know, in high school, that you wanted to go to Norwich? Page 4 MHS: Well, I did not have any college picked out and my brother was at Norwich, and my folks were paying the way and they said, "You're going to go to Norwich." So I never questioned it because my brother was here already ahead of me. He was two years older than I was and he was already here at Norwich. And they said, "You are going to go to college, you're going to go to Norwich." My brother had two colleges he wanted to go to. One was Georgia Tech and the other one was University of Alabama, and the folks said, "You aren't going to either one of them. You're going to go to Norwich." So my brother was here and my—the three of us, only five of my graduating class at Peoples, and three of us came to Norwich. And so I guess I was destined [laughs] to be a, a graduate of Norwich. JP: So your brother's, your brother's name was…? MHS: Phillip. JP: Phillip. And he was class of…? MHS: He was, well he would have been, he took a, he was four years ahead of me but he took a PG course in high school so he lost a year there. He was really two years ahead of me. He was two years older than me so two years ahead of me. And we both went to, he went to Norwich too, my brother did. But he didn't graduate. We'd have the quiet hours from 7:30 [P.M.] to 9:30 [P.M.], and at 9:30 we could, all hell would break loose in the barracks. The whistles would blow and we would get dragged into our holes, and dragged into your hole, we would get in our rooms and it was quieted down and during study hours it was very quiet and, uh, I don't know what brought that on. What were we talking about? JP: Your brother, your brother being ahead of you at Norwich. MHS: Yeah, he was two years ahead of me. And but he didn't graduate. But during study hours, what he was doing was playing cards. What I did was studying. I said—I was really driven to study. I said, "If I don't study, if I don't succeed, I'm going to be carrying a lunch basket to work. And if there is anything I don't want to do, it is carrying a Goddamn lunch basket, a lunch box." And you will if you don't succeed so I was driven to, for success, and I was, and I graduated number three in my class. [Laughs] I was driven I had a desire to do it I said, "I can't fail, I just got to do it." I dug in. So my brother was playing cards and I was studying, so he didn't graduate he, well I won't say he failed out but I used to do his Spanish. We took a Spanish class together and he would be playing cards and I was studying during all that time. I said, "Phil, I got maybe ten sentences all translated so you can copy them off if you want to learn this." Same Spanish class together. [laughs] JP: Was he playing poker or what? MHS: Oh yeah he was playing any kinds of cards. Probably poker or anything like that. In the barracks, quiet. It was very quiet you couldn't talk above a whisper and if you did like whoever was on guard could hear you out in the hallway, you were placed on report and given demerits. You had, allowed 9, were given 9 merits and for every demerit, like I guess walking on the grass I guess was 2 demerits. And so you could, so of all the years my brother was working towards, Page 5 all the time he was there shoveling horse manure on the Sabine Field and things like that, walking tours or either working tours off, punishment tours. And I only, I was a corporal. I only—one month I went over, I had 10. So I slept in, I mean I couldn't sign out for home, I normally sign out for noon so I just stayed in my room till 2:00, from one till two to get rid of that 1 tour and then I went home that weekend. And that was the difference between my brother and me. He was, my brother was in CMC, Close Military Confinement. And that's 10 demerits, 20 tours and 30 days Close Military Confinement. And that's pretty rough on a cadet. And a lot of them quit when they get that. You have to do something really bad. My brother was, he was a, he broke his collarbone. Harmon was leading a charge in the stable; my brother was riding a horse named Ham, H-A-M. And they were racing, and the horse stumbled and my brother went over, pitched over his head there and it was a mad rash. They made Pathè News, Norwich did, Pathè News. So my brother went over the, stumbled Ham, and landed and broke his collarbone. So he was in the hospital and on the post, the post hospital there. And he went to the sign out, he didn't sign out, he went to the movies and he got a good, that's a no-no. So he got caught, got 10-20-30, 10 demerits, 20 tours, and 30 days Close Military Confinement. It's pretty pretty rugged. So he was in a jam most of the time and I wasn't. I said I was a corporal and all sophomores are corporals, juniors are sergeants if you are made, you are sergeants, and the seniors are officers. That is the way it works up there now, I think, even now. Was in my day. Everybody was a corporal that was made, you were either a private or a corporal. I do not know what percentage probably 20% maybe, or 15%, were non-commissioned officers. So all sophomores, you cannot be over a corporal. A junior, you can be different classifications of different sergeants. And as a senior, then you are a non-commissioned officer in the militia, not the army, in the militia. So that's how it works. JP: What does Close Military Confinement consist of? What did that mean? MHS: Well you're like a prisoner, it's like being in prison. And when you go to meals you have to, there is a pass book on the floor, there would be a desk there and you would have to sign out for your meals and sign in for your meals, just like a prisoner. And you were a prisoner. And you have to copy where you are at all times and have to check in and it's pretty rough, it's pretty rough. And you can't speak to anybody, and the cadets can't speak to you. You are ignored, completely ignored. And I had one when I was up on the staff and his father was a superintendent of schools in southern Vermont. Quite a big shot. And he got on CMC, Close Military Confinement, and I'll tell you, he said, "It's no fun being ignored by the people you can't speak that way and they can't speak to you, like a prisoner." And it is, I guess, pretty rugged. He said, "I just kinda laugh smiling about it." He said, "It's nothing to laugh about it," I said, "that's pretty rough stuff." [laughs] JP: Do you have other siblings? Brothers or sisters? MHS: No, just the, well I had a sister, three years old, and we were close 'cause I was seven, my brother was nine. And so I was there enough to my sister. So I paid attention to my sister, my brother didn't, he was nine when she was three and she got appendicitis and died. She had appendicitis for a week, her face was flushed and everything and the doctors didn't know what was wrong with her! So they had a consultation of doctors, of 3 doctors. So at the consultation one of the doctors said, "I think she has got appendicitis," and that's what she had. So they put Page 6 her in the car, my father took her to Burlington, over the rough roads. The roads weren't like they are now, they were gravel roads, and he complained, my father, about hitting all the bumps and everything. And well they were too late, the peritonitis set in, she took her. JP: So what did your parents do, you said that he had a theater, did they have a theater when you were growing up? MHS: No no, that came later in life. That was when I was in the Army. And I get out in 1956, yeah 1956, well that's right I came down here. No. JP: So when you grew up what did they do? MHS: Well, I taught high school in the Northeast Kingdom as the, who was it they called it that, one of the, they called it Northeast Kingdom it stuck. And so, what were you about to say?1 JP: Oh, just asking what it was like when you were growing up. MHS: Well, I, ask me that again. JP: What did your parents do when you were growing up? MHS: Well, of course my mother was housewife, my father was real estate, real estate. And he'd sell it either on a commission, like someone would have a farm and turn it over to my father and father would find a buyer for it, he would get commission like 5% or 8% of the sale. And so that's what my father did. Real estate. JP: So, your parents helped you to decide to go to Norwich and you liked it? MHS: They didn't, they told me where I was gonna go. I told you my brother wanted to go to Georgia Tech and Alabama, one of those two. And they said, "No, you're gonna go to Norwich." I guess they figured he needed the discipline, the military, the discipline. And when I went, I was only, in Peoples, there was only 30 in my class, 25 girls and 5 boys. So 3 of us, 3 of the 5 boys all went to Norwich. JP: Wow, that's a pretty high percentage. MHS: Yes it is! [laughs] JP: So who was your roommate at Norwich? MHS: My roommate was, well that time, four in a room. So the—it's a big right room and I lived in Jackman Hall, was the dormitory. And the people I graduated—White, June White, Ross Grey, and I graduated from Peoples. So we were there and the fourth one was Bob Washburn, and he was from Massachusetts.2 1 Attributed to George D. Aiken (1892-1984) Vermont governor and senator. 2 MHS might be referring to Leon Morris White and Charles Russell Graves of Morrisville, VT. Page 7 JP: So the people you went to high school with your roommates. MHS: Yeah, yeah. They were. Yeah. JP: Oh that's great. And how did you decide which fraternity to join? MHS: Well I didn't have to make it, my brother was ahead of me, and he was a Sigma Alpha Epsilon, and so I was just automatically. I guess I did get a bed at one of the fraternities and but I could go—I wanted to go S.A.E. anyway. So I was just automatic, I mean, you have to accept the brother if he wants to go. And so I was S.A.E. And S.A.E. is the largest fraternity, in my day, in the country. And they had I think, I think the number was twenty-eight, I think throughout all the whole United States there were twenty-eight universities that had S.A.E. and the next one was Kappa Sigma they had twenty-five chapters. S.A.E. had the most in the nation, had twenty-eight chapters. JP: Wow, and do you remember the song that you sang for Sigma Alpha Epsilon? MHS: Oh yeah. JP: Would you mind singing it? MHS: [Singing] Oh sing for Sigma Alpha Epsilon, (lets see) Oh sing for Sigma Alpha Epsilon, and to Minerva (that's not a good key). Oh sing, Oh sing for Sigma Alpha Epsilon and to Minerva who will lead us on! And to Phi Alpha with her guiding light. To royal sons who fight, fight, fight, fight, fight! And when some day we will tell our sons, about the very best fraternity, oh sing for Sigma Alpha Epsilon, our dear old S.A.E. [laughs] JP: [laughs] That is wonderful; would you like a drink of water? Are you okay? MHS: Yeah I am okay, sometimes your voice is clear but now it's not. JP: That was great. MHS: So sometimes in bed I'll sing, and I'll just sing myself to sleep. I'll hum, and it's pretty good. And this is one of my off days [laughs]. My voice isn't in the singing mode. JP: [laughs] It was wonderful! That was terrific. Do you remember your uniform at Norwich? MHS: Yes, yes. JP: What was it like? MHS: I had my picture in the yearbook when I was a corporal and yes, we had the War Whoop was the yearbook, and I was in there because I was a corporal. And all the non-commissioned officers get special caption, a picture of you and well that's, well I was a corporal. All, well most Page 8 the people, most of them were privates, but the few, I don't know what, 20, 25 or 30% of them are non-commissioned officers and all. Corporal is the highest you can go as a sophomore. If you are appointed, sophomores are corporals, that is all. Sergeants are juniors, and commissioned officers are seniors. So I was a corporal, and a sergeant, and a second lieutenant in A Troop. We were troops then, A Troop, cavalry, horse cavalry. JP: Tell me about the horse cavalry. MHS: Well we had, I don't know how many horses we had. The stables are still up there, the original stables. We would have to, once a week, just like your classroom schedule would meet Monday, Wednesday and Friday or Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, it was on there. So once a week we had to go out to riding hall, the riding house, they're still down there, think the riding— no the stables, the riding hall is gone. You would go to this riding hall and do all these different formations inside. By the right hand, Hooo! By the left hand, Hooo! [laughs] and that sort of thing. JP: Did you learn how to ride a horse at Norwich or did you know before? MHS: No, I had a pony of my own at home. So I was, I know the head of the horse to the tail of the horse. People came up from Massachusetts and didn't know what a horse was, but I did. I had a saddle horse for two years before I went to Norwich so I was a veteran [laughs]. Most of the people were, didn't know one end of the horse from the other! JP: Do you know what breed the horses were that you had? MHS: Well no, but they were well trained. When you first went for drill, for close order drill, number one, one, two, three, four in a column. For example, so we would be in a line, and they would say, "Fours left, Hooo!" And you, first they would say to you, "Column fours, be one, be in a line. Column one, two, three, four. Column fours turn your head to the right in your line, and now one, two, three," and I would say, "Four, one, two, three, four." The next row, one, goes "One, two, three, four." And the next one, "two, three, four." So when you were in the line, they'll say, like we are marching for chapel they'll say, "Fours left, Hooo!" And we, everybody, the number one would pivot and the other went around and we went around in a column. There was nothing to it, a piece of cake. JP: It must have looked wonderful. MHS: Yes, it was good, it was a, it got the job done. JP: Did you drive a car on campus? MHS: I had a car my senior year. Yes I had a Buick Coupe. You had to be a senior. Underclassmen could not have a car, but that was a senior privilege. You could have a car, so my dad [telephone rings in background for a few minutes] had a Buick Coupe that he gave me. So I had a car which was nice. Because we could go from the barracks to downtown which was, Norwich was about a mile. We would pile in, go down to the movies, then come back. It came in Page 9 kinda handy. And when we got home weekends, we didn't think of hitchhiking, I had a car right there. So with four from Morrisville we would pile in the car and go to Morrisville [laughs]. JP: That must have been grand. MHS: It was good. You had to be a senior to have a car. JP: Now I noticed in the War Whoop that you were an expert swordsman, an expert pistol, and an expert rifle shot. MHS: I was. I think I was a marksman as a rifle, sharp-shooter as a pistol, and an expert in the saber. And the saber course was be these dummies, would be men, you would come galloping down, like a column, and you'd just, you would lunge forward. I said "Geesh, I'll probably break my arm, but well I'll do it because it was what we were supposed to do." Worked like a piece of cake. So it was on a pivot, like a row, and so we go galloping down, we gallop past, take the saber, and jam the dummy and follow it right around. And when we went past it, we would pull it back. And it worked like. JP: Was it a real sword? MHS: Huh? JP: Was it a real sword? MHS: A real? JP: Was it a real sword or like a wooden sword? MHS: Oh oh, it was real, I mean it was-- JP: It was sharp. MHS: Yeah, it was, you got a medal for it. I said I was a marksman with a rifle, a sharp-shooter, a higher class, as a pistol, and an expert in the saber, in the saber course. JP: And you all learned those things at Norwich? Or did you practice as a kid? MHS: At Norwich, yeah. JP: So they taught you all that, they taught you how to be all that. MHS: Yep, learned it at Norwich. You got it at Norwich. So I had on my tunic, I had those medals, three different kinds of medals on my tunic. JP: Very good. So what was it like to be a Rook, I know you've talked about being a senior, but what was it like to be a Rook?Page 10 MHS: Ooh boy was that bad. It really was. You were not supposed to haze, but it was, it was mild hazing, mild hazing. For example, they would say, "alright get the rooks on the floor like a row boat, you are rowing a boat." It was hazing, you were not supposed to haze, but they did. About two weeks, the first game of the season was Dartmouth we always played at Hanover. They never came here, but we went, the whole Corps marched at Dartmouth. We would march, line up on the street there, and then march onto the field. The whole Corps for the game. We were there for two games. We did that with Dartmouth for the first game of the season, and we did it in the state series. Middlebury, Vermont, Saint Michaels, and Norwich. And we'd marched. If we played Middlebury, we would march at Middlebury. Middlebury, I think there, most everybody came here. I know we went there. The whole Corps went to Coast Guard. Had a special train for the whole Corps. The whole Corps went down to New London, Connecticut to play the Coast Guard Academy in football. JP: On a special train? MHS: Yep, a special train yep. JP: That's always been a big rivalry for the Coast Guard. MHS: Yes, it has always been a good rivalry we have had with the Coast Guard. We always had, we have a nice, nice relationship with the Coast Guard. JP: Now you were quite a jumper. MHS: Yes I was. In the pole vault particularly. Well when I went there, in high school we had track and the coach, Coach Baker was my chemistry professor but he was also the track coach.3 And I went out for track, and I had the no form. It was just jump over, jump over any way you can get there, it was no form. He called it no form. He said, "I'll teach you the eastern roll or the western roll." He told me exactly how they went. So [he asked], "Which one do you think you will like to go on." And I said, "Let's try the eastern roll." That is: you don't come charging really fast, you've got to take a little hop, then take six or eight steps so it comes out just right. You know exactly where, and you go to the bar, you kick up like this, over the bar. With this foot, you twist it around so that the bar hits your body instead of your butt. You aren't dragging your butt, and knocking it off with your butt. So you kick up, with the eastern roll, and then do that, and twist your body right around and the bar passes your body. You want to get your butt out of the way. So I was a high jumper and in the pole vault, I did the 12 feet. The standards only went up to 12 feet and I guess they didn't think that anybody could do it, but I did. So I was the, and the broad jump. So every year, from freshman to senior, I got a little more as a sophomore, more as a junior, and more as a senior. I kept going up. So I was quite the track star. JP: You were, you were. MHS: And P.D. Baker was my chemistry professor and he was like a father to me. A wonderful, wonderful man. So he taught me all those things. He knew how they went. I stopped to think 3Perley Dustin Baker, NU 1920 (1897-1995), was dean from 1950-1957, worked from 1920-1962. Page 11 about it, I said, I think if I had chosen, he said, "you can have your choice." He explained how it was and I think if I had taken the western roll, I think I could have probably gotten, I just got a feeling, I could have probably gotten one or two more inches higher with the western roll. But he taught me the roll anyway. I liked P. D. Baker. He was dean there, and it might have been later, anyway, he was like a father figure to me. I guess that about covers it doesn't it? JP: That's great, what did you do for entertainment? MHS: Well we had, I was an S.A.E., as I told you it was the largest fraternity in the country. It had more chapters than any other college [fraternity], of all the colleges. We would have Freshmen Week, which would be around January. Classes were suspended and we would have 3 days, 3 days, on the weekend for just parties, dancing, and doing anything you wanted to do. It was dancing mostly and you would get your date there. And you would look around downtown get a rate or rent if they couldn't travel, if they were out in like Massachusetts. Then the cadet would get a room for their date, for like Freshmen Week or Junior Week were the two big weeks. Freshmen Week and Junior Week. Freshmen Week was around January, Junior Week would be around May I think. So I had, I had a girl, Cotting her name was, Emma Cotting, and I had her down for the weekend. And of course a lot of them, I would say probably about a fourth of the cadets had dates on those big weekends. The others didn't have them. Either they couldn't afford it or didn't do it for one reason or the other. But I did, I had a date down. And she lived right there during those three days, probably like Friday, Saturday, and Sunday or something like that for Junior Week, for Freshmen Week and for Junior Week in May and Freshmen Week was in January I think. And all the classes were off, and the parties were in. I remember I had some money, and I get through the fraternity and they made us, something, your boaters, not the boaters in something. We didn't want them in. So I went down there, this was during Prohibition, picked up a pint of whiskey and I paid $4.00 for it. I got to thinking, I said, "My God, I can't really afford four dollars." That would be quite a few trips to the theater, pay for a lot of the theaters. So I bought it for four dollars, I didn't have a date and so one of the cadets who did have a date said, "I'll give you $3.75 for it, and I said "Sold." So I lost twenty-five cents but I could go to more movies [laughs]. JP: So movies were a big thing? MHS: They were downtown, you had to get downtown. JP: So where did one procure liquor during Prohibition? MHS: Well I didn't ask, we just, we got it through the fraternities. The fraternities would, you would sign up for it and they, somebody would get a bootlegger or something and they got good liquor. Probably went up to Canada I presume, probably and got it. So I said, $4.00 for a pint, or half a pint, or a pint and I, like I said, I said "I can't afford that. I would rather spend the money on movies." So I sold it for $3.75, sold my pint for somebody that had a date. It was worth it. I remember we used to go to Lake Eden, during the summer time. Lake Eden was 2 hours, 17 miles I guess, 15 miles. And Eight Guide Dunbar, a wonderful band, 8 piece orches—geez, they were everywhere, they were from St. Johnsbury, Eight Guide Dunbar. We would go there every week, Lake Eden, to dance. The men would go up separately; the girls would go up separately. Page 12 Almost everybody took a date. The girls would get up there by bus or any way they could get there. And they would sit on one side of the room, and the men would stand up in the back. When they would wind up the music then we would go over and we'd pick out somebody or for dancing on the floor. I remember I was dancing with this girl, probably could have been my date, I don't know, I was dancing with this girl. Anyway, and a lot of stags went up there. So I would see this girl, and she would shake her head no, too. I said the next dance? No. The second dance? [laughs] While we were dancing, you have these singles. So like I said, the girls got there by bus or I don't know. They got there, they got there anyway. [laughs] JP: What kind of dances did you do? Do you remember? MHS: Most of them were, in those days we used to Jump the Hop. We did a lot of turning around. We would dance around or we would dance, dance, and we would dip. Or at Lake Eden we actually jumped. We would have your partner jump right in the air, jump, jump. It looked good from the outside. I said, gee that looks like great fun, so I learned how to do it and we would jump. Just jump with the steps rather than glide. Supposedly we would jump and twist in the air. It was good. JP: And you were a good jumper. MHS: We thought we were hot stuff! [laughs] JP: Do you remember any slang? MHS: Any what? JP: Any slang? Did you guys use slang? MHS: Slang? JP: Slang. MHS: S-L-A-N-G? Slang. JP: Correct. MHS: Oh, yeah I guess we did. The people from Massachusetts used to rip on the Vermonters for the way we, for the slang, for the way we talked. And the New Yorkers talked different, the Massachusetts talked broader. Vermont talks a lot flat, flat and hickish really, and Massachusetts were a little different and New York was different than them, just a little bit as a group you know. The rest of the states, you could tell, you could almost tell a state a man was from, whether he was from New York, Massachusetts or Vermont by just talking to them. And of course we were hicks. Of course, the Vermonters, we would usually take a ripping from the cadets from Massachusetts for the hickish way we talked. We probably did talk like hicks. [laughs]Page 13 JP: Did they call you hicks or anything else? MHS: No, not that I know of. But we, well they might have, might have called us hicks. If they did, they were right. We were hicks. [laughs] We wouldn't deny it. JP: Now was Mike Popowski one of your roommates? MHS: Yes, Mike was a—when you're—all sophomores, if you are promoted in the Corps. I think about probably 25% maybe are promoted, maybe not quite that maybe 20% are promoted. So you are supposed to live, not officers live with officers, if you are officers. Privates, senior privates, lived together. Juniors were sophomores were sergeants, and sophomores were corporals, juniors were sergeants, and seniors were officers. Now what did you ask? JP: About Michael Popowski. MHS: Oh, oh, well so well my room— I was an exception. I came to Norwich as a private. I had been there only one week. The very first week I was called into the commandant's office. You're promoted at the commissioning ceremony in the spring when, before you break up. You have a promotion parade and I wasn't on the list. Well when I got back, the first week of school I was called into the commandant's office and was promoted right there. And of course a corporal had to get his stripes sewn on. All sophomores are corporals, privates, and privates. You are a corporal, you are a non-commissioned officers, juniors are sergeants, and seniors are officers. First lieutenants through, well my day the highest rank was a major, was the highest rank. Later on they became a colonel was the highest in the Corps. But in my day it was a major, one major. Then there would be about four or five captains. It would be A Company, B Company, C Company, and Headquarters Company. They were commanded by a senior, by a captain, a senior cadet captain. They would have a captain of the company, command the company. A first lieutenant would be the second in command. Then you have your, like I was in A Troop, and we would have two, two second lieutenants. I was one of the second lieutenants as an A Troop when I was a cadet there. JP: Was Harmon the commandant when you were there? MHS: Harmon was a commandant my first year and then it was his last year there. My sophomore, junior, senior year was a, Harmon was the, my sophomore year. And, who was it? I can't remember his name now, I'll have to remember it, but my sophomore, junior, senior year, it was a new man that came in. They are Regular Army people. That was a duty. They are Regular Army, and it was a duty assignment. And, let's see, Harmon was a, well he was a captain when I came in there and he yeah, he was, he controlled the—the Army furnishes officers for each, each company, for the whole Corps I think there was 17 officers. We could appoint 17 officers, cadet officers. And they're appointed by a, well, a commission. I don't know as a group, I don't know who picks them out. I never did understand who picked them out. Well I was a corporal as a sophomore, and that's all. You are either a private or a corporal. Sergeants, you are either a private or a sergeant if you are made. And a senior, you are either a private or an officer. In other words, a company would have one captain, one first lieutenant, and two second lieutenants. Now I was in A Troop, so A Troop was in Jackman Hall. We had a captain, a first lieutenant, and two Page 14 second lieutenants in the company. Or then there was a, they didn't call them companies. They called them companies later on— we called them troops. We were a troop, troopers, cavalry. Cavalry called them troops. Infantry called them companies. So my freshman year we were troopers. Now they changed it to companies in the Corps. JP: So did you go on the ROTC Hike of 1932? MHS: Did I do what? JP: Did you did the ROTC Hike of 1932? MHS: The, um, no. The uh, that was the one year they did not have it. But the year before they had the summer hike, and I think the year after. But my year they had to cancel it so we went to Fort Ethan Allen. Before you would arrive in the post, [then] ride horses from the post to Fort Ethan Allen. Well this year, they could they were tight on money or something so they, we did not have that summer ride. I think ours was the only class that didn't. I think the class after us did. So we drove to the fort on automobiles and our parents dropped us off. But all the classes before and after us, they rode. They took this secured route from Norwich to Fort Ethan Allen. But my year we didn't take it, we drove in cars and rode our horses when we got there [laughs]. Or whatever it was we did, I don't know what we did. JP: So when you left Norwich, and you graduated, and you went in to the military? You went straight in? MHS: No, not immediately. I think it was only, it was hard to get in. As I remember only two people in my class got a Regular Army commission. You went into the Regular Army when the rest of us went into the Reserves. So for 95% went into the Reserves, we were reserve officers. We went down every two weeks out of, we didn't get a chance to go on active duty. So we didn't actually get our commissions. We didn't see much active duty. JP: What did you do after you graduated? MHS: Well I taught high school up in Northeast Kingdom in Barton. I taught there for four or five years. Well from '34 through '39, and then in '40 I went into the Army. JP: What caused you to go into the Army in 1940? MHS: Well, I, thank you [someone passes Col. Smith a drink]. Well I wanted to get in, you couldn't get in. It was good pay. So in 1940 apparentlyWashington got some money together and so those who wanted to could volunteer for active duty. That was 1940. So I jumped, and it was good pay. It was a lot better than teaching high school. I started at $900 at Barton, Northeast Kingdom, $900, then $1,000, $1,100, and then $1,200. I got a hundred dollar bump each year so my fourth year of teaching I got $1,200. When I went into the Army, I got a hell of lot more than that. When I was getting $1,200 I was getting $4,500 to $5,000, I got about four times as much in the Army. So I went in the Army, and the activation of the Armored Force. My order said the Page 15 37 th Calvary Regiment. When I put in for active duty they came through. When I got there and reported to the officer in charge, the Regular Army officer in charge, who was a lieutenant colonel I think he was, he said well. I said, "Mine said that I was assigned to a cavalry unit." He said, "Cavalry is out. Armor is in." So on the activation the Armored Force came into being on the 15 of June, 1940. The 1st Armored was at Knox, the 2nd Armored was at Benning. I was the 1st Armored Division on the first day of the activation of the Armored Force. On the ground level. JP: Ground floor. MHS: I was assigned to a, well, reconnaissance company. The recon company, the recon battalion, A Troop. A Company was armored cars. B Company was scout cars, C Company was tanks, which I was assigned to C Company. And D Company was half-tracks. Everyone had their own division type of vehicles and we all had cycles, motorcycles. That's what I was in. I remember we had old horse sheds that had no horses, and that's where we kept the tanks. So when we went to pick up our tanks they said, "Alright, anybody that has ever driven a tank, step forward or turn your name in." You were here to pick up some tanks. There was just a few handful had driven a tank, and so I was not one, but some of the old Army people had driven a tank. So they got enough tanks. They came out of a depot somewhere and so the people who had driven tanks stepped forward and drove the tanks into the motor park which were really converted horse stables. They were, now [instead of] horses there were tanks in there. Same place but different vehicle [chuckles]. JP: What kind of motorcycles did you ride? MHS: What kind of what? JP: Motorcycles. MHS: Oh, I think we had the Indian motorcycle, I think. It was Indian. And well they had the, the first ones we had, oh God it was a pleasure to ride. They were down, you sit right down, you had controls, sit right down. Well I'll be goddamned if they didn't give those up. They got the new ones and they are up in the air. Well Jesus, it's like learning to ride all over again. On those low ones you just sit right down, sheesh, you could just feel it, you melted right into the cycle on the road. You melted. Now you sitting up here and by god, I never did like them. They were hard, and if you got off balance, you would go down, you would fall down on the ground. Then you would have to get up shame-facedly and pick up your cycle and mount it again [laughs]. I remember one exercise we had, we were out in the field and we come riding into this spot and dismount. And somebody on the team would throw you a Tommy gun, through the air. I don't know where it would come from, but they would throw it to you, and you would have to catch it in the air, the Tommy gun. You would blast a couple [gun noises], it would rise up [gun noises], bring it down, you would take 3 or 4 shots and it rises on you. You do not try to hold it down. You know it is going to, so you do it, you let up on the trigger, then get out 3 or 4 more rounds. Page 16 Then it gets to ride up. Just the force of it forces the Tommy gun up. Then we, when we would finish that I would take the rifle and the submachine gun and toss it to the instructor, jump on the motorcycle, and you are gone [chuckles]. That was a test, I mean, I guess all the officers went through it. It was fun, it was fun. I liked it. It was good. JP: What other weapons did you carry? MHS: We didn't carry anything. We, uh, I'll tell you, in Germany General Harmon had the Constabulary. So when I went outside in Heidelberg and yellow, we had yellow shoelaces. We were special. Constabulary was a special group of soldiers. And we were hot stuff, I guess, under Harmon. And was everybody assigned, a quite few. Well I made the cavalry in Germany and uh, is that it? Does that answer? JP: So you were part of Ironsides? And did you take part in any combat action? MHS: Um, you mean real combat? Or, or, we had maneuvers and it was just like combat. I mean it was, it was. Well you are in a war! I remember I was in the recon battalion, reconnaissance battalion. We were deployed down on the line in a big field. We were there, nothing was happening. We were up front cause— we reconnaissance battalion is the forward most unit of a division, of an armored division, is the reconnaissance battalion. And I was a recon battalion. They lead the entire division. The reconnaissance battalion, and I was in recon bat. So we got here on this field here, nothing was happening and we were just holding there, waiting for something to happen. All of a sudden all hell broke loose and tanks just covered that field. I stood there and said, "My god, it was a maneuver." And that field was covered with tanks! I guess, I never saw so much tanks in my life! And I, uh, "Holy Jesus what am I seeing?" I was really captivated by it, I was a, it was a maneuver, it was maneuvers. JP: And where was this? MHS: Jesus. Well I can't remember. I was the 1st Armored and the 1st Armored was at [Fort] Knox. The 4th Armored, I think, was Drum, Fort Drum. 10th Armored was, I was the 1st, 4th, and 10th Armored as they were building up the divisions. They would send the cadre, a pit crew, to form a new division. They were forming new divisions. So I started out in the Armored, the 1st Armored, the very first beginning, the 1st Armored was in Fort Knox where I was. The 2nd Armored was activated on the same day. The first day of the activation of the Armored Force was the 15 of June, 1940. The 2nd Armored was at [Fort] Benning. Then they grew, so they had 18 armored divisions. They have cadre as a shell for the making of all the key positions of a unit. Then they send in recruit fillers, to fill it up to full strength. That's how they would increase. They had an outline, just an outline of key people who would be assigned as the cadre staff. I was the 1st Armored but I was picked as a cadre for 4th Armored Division. So it's a shell of the officers and non-commissioned officers and then the fillers come in and fill it up. And they go on and do it that way with the 18 armored divisions I think. So I was the 1st, 4th, and 10th Armored Divisions. Page 17 JP: So you were stateside. Were you overseas? MHS: Oh yeah, yes I was. That's, that's something. I went, I was overseas. Where the hell was I? Jesus. Goddamn [whispered with frustration]. I was overseas. Europe? FRIEND OF MHS: Moe, What did you train on tanks in Hawaii? You were a trainer, what did you train people [on]? MHS: My job there was to train Marines on the tank mounted flame-thrower. Hell, that was it. That was a school. Each Marine Division had one tank company or battalion, I can't remember which. They would send a whole unit of Marines over to—I was the head of the school at Kolekole Pass, that's where the Japanese flew in, over that cut in the mountains when they bombed Pearl Harbor. And uh, where was I now? FRIEND OF MHS: You were training Marines. MHS: Yeah, I was training Marines and we would set up trebles on the guns, on the flamethrowers. The flamethrowers were co-actually mounted. You would have a 76 sticking on the tank a big rifle, a big, long tube, a 76. And co-actually mounted to that was a flamethrower right beside it, or below it. So you could have your fire power. You're in the tank, you would have the ammunition in the tank. It was underneath the turret floor for your stored ammunition. So they were independent. They could fire, I can't remember how many, rounds of 76 you could fire or you could use the flamethrower. Either one. And we would make our own napalm. It is like a sawdust, soap, chips, I guess like soap. It's like sawdust, looks like sawdust. You can't get it, even a drop of water, or it breaks it down. So you have to be careful that the drums are dry and you had this napalm, that's the sawdust-like stuff, and mix it up, and it's rubbery. And you reach in there and pull it out like that and hold it and let it go a little snap back to base. It was heavy, it was elastic, like elastic. Now that's your flamethrower stuff. And it has to be that way so you can back off your tank, and that thing we couldn't throw a flame and it works out. They would, I wouldn't happen to be with the unit at that time. But the Japanese would hole up in these caves, so we'd get these flamethrowers and since it was almost impossible to dig out, 'cause the side was like a mountain, all rocks. They were inside with peepholes and everything. Hard to dig those people out. So we get these flamethrowers in there and course they had the aperture, they had it open so they could fire. And we would put the flamethrower and probably shoot it, probably, a couple hundred yards. If it was mixed just right, just right, it was like rubber, like rubber, and you could back your tank off and we would, they would, it had to be that particular action. But then they would fire these flamethrowers in these apertures, or whatever you call them, the rock where they fired. And they would put the flamethrowers in there and burn up the oxygen and those Japanese would be dead. D.E.D. Dead [laugh]. And not a mark on them, they wouldn't have a mark on them, but they'd be dead. It would burn up the oxygen in the air in these caves and kill them all. Just, just, just asphyxiated. JP: Where were you during, where were you when Pearl Harbor occurred? Page 18 MHS: I was in Hawaii. I was in Hawaii and I had a school there. I was the head of the school. Head of school on the tank mounted flamethrower and as I said, we work with; we made mostly Marines, training Marines. Those Marines, I couldn't sing their praises enough, the, the [fades out] FRIEND OF MHS: Moe, when Pearl Harbor was bombed, where were you located? Were you still in the States or were you elsewhere? MHS: No, no, no, when Pearl Harbor was, no, no. When Pearl Harbor was bombed I was in Hawaii with the, with the tank mounted flamethrower - FRIEND OF MHS: So you were training Marines. MHS: training Marines. When the peace came they dropped the bomb and so they gave us 48 hours. We had these big, these 55 gallon drums. We had like a mountain of them, just a heap of them. Gasoline rations for the states they sent it to us to burn up in the flamethrowers or whatever it was. It was hard to get gas for use here for the civilians during the war. So we, when the armistice, when they dropped that bomb they sued immediately for peace, so they gave us 48 hours to clear the range. So we had a veritable mountain of 55 gallon drums, long and high, filled with this napalm. And we opened those drums just as fast as we could open them. And we had a veritable pond of that napalm, that rubberized stuff there, and we would back a tank off, put a flamethrower on it and you would have thought the whole island was going up in flames. I mean it was some fire, I'll tell ya. That was the Kolekole Pass. It was a plateau. It was a low cut in the mountains, I said when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor they came through that pass and I had been there at that time. They flew right over where I had my school. FRIEND OF MHS: So what did you do in Japan? When you went to Japan after the war? MHS: Let's see, I was, Oh! Here is a funny thing. I was, I was an obs-, obscure, obscure major. I'd been there 3 days. Nobody knew me. Hell, there probably a thousand, probably hundreds and hundreds of majors there. It was all in the Far East Command under General MacArthur's Far East, Far East Command. And I'd been there just 3 days and my name came up to be on the General Staff. And I said, "How in hell can I be made? They don't know me!" I said, "I'm the new man here! I am one of hundreds and hundreds of majors and they picked me out. There was a feather in my bonnet and God was with me. God appointed me. God had something to do with that." Three days I was on the General Staff. Seemed pretty good. It was about 18 or 17, we'd have a staff meeting every day. I would be there and it was under, we had reports that came into me and I had a guy in my division that wrote them up and all I had to do was sign them. So I signed them as if they were my reports because I was the head of the division. So, so I signed it, I signed it. I didn't change a word. Call McCarthy, I signed it, sent it up to G3 with my signature. G3 took my name off, put their name on it and sent it up to GHQ Far East Command, General MacArthur's headquarters. It went through all those chains, everybody put their name on it, and I didn't do a thing. I just, tt was all prepared, I never, in all the time I was there, only Page 19 one time there was a paragraph in there that was way off, and I took that out. I said, "By god that's not going to go into the report, that's for goddamned sure." So I took that out. When I said that was my report, when they get it, it was their report to GHQ they passed the line. It was a, I didn't do anything, no really, all I did was look at the reports and send them on up. I did not do anything. But I, it was important because it went to GHQ and the GHQ, when they got through with them, sent the reports to Washington. JP: And after the war what did you do? MHS: After the war I, well I was in Chicago Headquarters, Fifth Army. My mother called up and said, "If you want to come home, your father will sell his shares of the drive-in theaters to you." And I really didn't want to come out, I liked Chicago and I liked my job. I just, I had a good job, and I did not want to leave. I had it made. I had 16 years. All I needed was 4 more years to retire at 50%. Well, mother said, "Your father will sell," So I said, "Well I guess she wants me to get out," so I get out. I really did not want to go, but I got out after 16 years and went home, and bought out my father's shares of the Green Mountain Drive-in Theaters. There was a theater in Morrisville and the largest in the state was in Newport. And we got half. The trade was Canadian trade. They would come down because they did not have any, any, Canada could not have 'em. It was state law, they could not for quite a while, they couldn't have drive-in theaters. So we had a sell out every night and that was a, that was a good payment, but of course we didn't make as much money in those days as they do today. I got $10,000 a year sitting on my butt and doing nothing. [laughs] JP: When did you meet Isabel? When and where did you meet your wife? MHS: I met her before I went into the Army. For 4, 4 or 5 years from '35 to '40, I taught high school in Barton in the Northeast Kingdom. And I taught, coached, I coached and taught for four or five years, I can't remember. 1935 to 1940, and then in '40 I went into the 1st Armored Division at [Fort] Knox. JP: But how did you meet her? Where did you meet her? MHS: Oh my wife? Well we were teaching, teaching school. JP: She was a teacher. MHS: Right. And Issy [Isabel] was home economics, home economics. She graduated from uh, I can't remember the name of the school now. I did know that it was in Massachusetts. She had her degree from a school in Massachusetts. I know where it is but it doesn't come to mind right now what it was. So that's where I met Issy. So Issy was a, we were both teaching school there and we both, we got married. We skipped out one New Year's Eve and got married, came back, didn't tell anybody about it because we weren't supposed to be married, I guess. And we weren't supposed to be I guess. I don't know how they could keep a teacher from, from they could take a Page 20 married teacher or a single teacher. But either way, we got married and didn't tell anybody. Then, then we got out in 1940 and went into the Army. JP: So she couldn't tell she was married because they didn't want women who were married to be teaching. That's why you didn't? Was that it? MHS: I don't know. I don't know. I could never could figure out why didn't want, why they didn't want it. Never could figure that out. But they didn't, anyway, for some reason or another. So then we went to, that's when we were stateside, I was, we were teaching in Barton. So we got married, dropped out of teaching, and I went into the 1st Armored Division at Fort Knox in 1940. JP: Yeah? FRIEND OF MHS: Did you talk about how we ended up at Norwich? JP: No. I'm curious as to how you got from post-World War I [interviewer said one meant two], to Korea and then to Norwich. How did you get to Norwich? And what did you do in Korea? I know those are big questions. MHS: I was in the, ah, I, I, I got out of the Army. Oh! I got out of the Army to buy the theaters, that's why I got out of the Army. Mother said, "If you want to come home, your father will sell you [the theaters]." I didn't want to do it but I did. I got out of the Army and went home and bought out my father's share of the drive in theaters. So I was sitting one day when I got the Norwich Bulletin. I don't know what it's called now. It's a bulletin. It said they are looking for somebody for the commandant's office. It said, "apply to Colonel Black." I said, "Bull, bull, bullshit," I said "I'll jump in my Cadillac and go down and let them see me. I can see them and they can see me." And I did, and I was told by Black that I was one of the, there was only one other, a year later, putting in for my same job and I got it. So I report in as, to Black. Black went up to Harmon and said, "We got a man here on our plea for an assistant commandant." And he said, "He's a Norwich man." And Harmon goes. "Well sign him up and give him three days to get in and get down here." So I was home, I had to clean up and move and everything. So I did and I came down here and reported in in 1940, 1940 1st Armored Division. FRIEND OF MHS: No you started at Norwich in 1950, didn't you? MHS: I started at Norwich… [trails off] FRIEND OF MHS: '56? '54? MHS: In 1940… FRIEND OF MHS: You were in for sixteen years. It would be '56. MHS: Oh yeah. Uh huh. Page 21 JP: You worked seventeen jobs at Norwich for eighteen years, right? MHS: Yeah, yes, yeah. I was— oh here is a funny thing, but it's not really very funny either. One day we had the—I was registrar. I was the first registrar in Norwich history. And Bob Guinn, I knew him, he was a professor when I was cadet. And he wrote the history of Norwich and he said that, "Smith was the first registrar in Norwich history." See before they had the registrar duties, but they partialed all them out amongst different faculty. So they get them all together for the first time and I was the first. And this is in the history. I was first full time registrar in Norwich history. And that was in 1940, yeah 1940, wasn't it? FRIEND OF MHS: It couldn't have been '40, that's when you went into the Army. Sixteen years after that would have been '56 MHS: This was 19… [trails off]… this was, uh, '56 yeah. '56. Yeah '55. '56 was the first year I came to Norwich. Yeah '55-'56 was my first year at Norwich. JP: So, you, you were working on a master's at Columbia before you— MHS: I was uh, yes. I started in and that was, that was a funny thing. I went to one section at Columbia and Columbia had a new deal. It used to be you go to 5 years or 4 years and a thesis. You go to 4 summer sessions and then write a thesis and that was it. Or 5 years without a thesis. Then they finally said, they cut it out and said, all right, you can go 4 years, you can get it in 4 years without a thesis. So I was working towards a Master's Degree at Columbia when I, when I ah. So I got to the next summer, I was waiting to see if I was going to get called into the Army, that was in '39. See if we were called into the Army, I said, I have to make up a decision because after the 4th of July if you go to Columbia, you don't get any credits. You have to be on or before the 4th of July for a full, for the full term. You can miss 2 or 3 days but that was all. And after the 4th of July you could go if you wanted to, but you wouldn't get credit for the Master's Degree. So, where was I now? JP: What was your major? What were you getting a master's degree in at Columbia? What were you studying? MHS: Probably education, I'd imagine. Education. I remember, I remember two of my professors—one was a woman, Doctor Spesicka at Columbia. The other was Doctor Hunt. The one that was the most popular one, he had a theater. We had small classes, 7 or 8 of in the class, but there was this one big class and he was the big, we had it in the theater, about 2 or 3 hundred were in his class. And I can't remember his name! But I remember Spesicka and Hunt. And Issy was there and I took her to class with her one time, when I was working for a master's degree. But it helped, because ah 4, 4 sessions, there used to be 5 and they cut it down to 4. So I was waiting, I said, "Gee I don't want to lose out all around," and I was biting my fingernails wondering whether to – what was it? To decide whether I was going to do something or go back to Columbia? Can't remember what it was. My choice was go to Columbia or Army I guess it Page 22 was. And I said, "I got to make up my mind before the 4 th of July," and it went by. And anyway I went to Columbia anyway, and I got a full year at Columbia. JP: You've had a lot of experience in education. A lot of life experiences with teaching people things and - MHS: The courses that you take in education was dull, dull and meaningless in education. They did not carry any weight, there was no substance to it, education courses. I mean they were stupid, they were dumb. And you had to take 18 hours, you were supposed to have 18 hours to get a, I guess a degree. And ah, I took 2 or 3 courses, and they were stupid! A waste of time! There was a misnomer calling them education courses. They prepared you, they didn't prepare you for anything but took them because they were required and so I went just that one time, and then I went into the Army. I was debating between, I didn't want to lose out on the second term for Columbia, I was biting my fingernails, and I said, "Well it's too late now I have to take what I get," and then my orders came through for active duty. So I played that right. I was lucky [chuckles]. JP: Do you want to take a break now or are you okay? MHS: Oh I'm okay. FRIEND OF MHS: I gotta go along, Moe. Your checks are all set there you have to sign them. MHS: Oh uh, oh the bills. Yeah, okay… come tomorrow, will ya? Okay, you are learning something about me. [chuckles] FRIEND OF MHS: You should tell her all the stories you have about the different generals you have worked for. MHS: Oh yeah, that's right. I have worked for, here is a funny thing. General Newgarden4 had the 10th Armored Division. I was in his division, well he came to the Armored School, and I was, I was something in the Armored School. I was a big, kinda a big wheel. Big wheel. I was a department head and he, everyone, they go to class and then they have to take a 10 minute break and then they go back to class for 50 minutes then 10 minute break. He was a tactics guy, tactics class. So I came up to see him, he didn't know me, I said, "General Newgarden." I said, "You probably don't remember me," (cause he had a division, he didn't know all the people). I said, "I was in your 10th Armored Division!" I said. "I was under your command at one time." So we had a nice chat. I remember his stars were—a pep they call it, a little round thing that clips to your collar, it was gone. And I said, "Gosh I should have fixed that but I didn't." I said, I should have said something, what I should have said was, '"General, your general thing is askew, you lost your pep." And I'd take my pep, "Here take my pep I got another one." That's what I should have done but I didn't do it. I was kind of scared so I let him go with his U.S. dangled Major 4 Major General Paul Woolever Newgarden (1892-1944) Page 23 General. And we talked but he didn't know who I was, so I told him, I said "I was in your division." A lot of officers in a division, you don't get to know them all. FRIEND OF MHS: So you did a lot of, you were in charge of Army training for a lot of , a lot of your career. MHS: Oh yeah, and in Hawaii that's all I did do. And I was the head of the school. FRIEND OF MHS: Who were those, the Spaniards that came, or Spanish speaking group that came? MHS: Oh, well we'd have tourists from all over the country. Colombia, for example, sent two or three different groups at different times. But the colleges all around would send their handpicked people to study our system of education, which was, ah, you could see it! It wasn't that you read something in a textbook and then recite it, but you could see it. It was all hands education. We would take an engine apart and put it together again. Assemble it right on the floor so we, we had engine cells and we would set up engine troubles, trouble shooting, and then the class would come in. We had a little, we had this big dynamometer, a big dynamometer engine in the middle and little cells around there. And we divided, about six officers or noncommissioned officers to a cell and there would be an instructor in there. And depending on whether, maintenance 1, maintenance 2, trouble shooting, so forth and they'd go through that and that'd be one week at each section. And I had the trouble, trouble shooting for over 1 week. So there's 6, 8, I think 8, different sections and then they'd graduate either 6 to 8, they'd graduate after about 2 months. I didn't do it exactly because I can't remember but about 2 months. They would have it on their records that they were graduates of the Tactics Department. The Armored School was the Tank Department, armored cars, tanks, wheeled vehicles, and motorcycles. There were five divisions of the Armored School. It took every, every week, 100, every third class was an officer class. We had an enlisted class, an enlisted class, an officer's class. Enlisted class, enlisted class, an officer's class. So there are 1,200 students at all times in the Armored School. 1,200. So 100 would graduate, 100 would come in. And every third company was an officer's company, so it'd be 300 at any one time, be 300 officers and 900 enlisted men in the Armored School. I had the Trouble Shooting Division. We would have these engine cells, we'd set up troubles on the tank, tank wouldn't start and so they'd figure out why it wouldn't start. And for motorcycles, wheeled vehicles, tank, and halftracks. FRIEND OF MHS: So what happened when the Colombians came to visit? MHS: Well that was, that was a good thing. They, ah, they spoke in English. They came through and they could with just what they could see. I found after, they didn't know what the hell was going on. They didn't! We spoke English and while they could see something, but the instructor - Maintenance 1 or Maintenance 2 or whatever it was - would talk in English and they told me, they [the Colombians] didn't know what was going on. And when they got down to the engine task, I knew that in Spanish, because I took Spanishm, I majored in Spanish in college. So I had Page 24 a corporal, god he was good, he was good. So I had no English-Spanish/Spanish-English dictionary so I had my speech in Spanish. So this, and I had been, I majored in it so I knew quite a few of it but I needed some help in polishing up. So I called this corporal in, he was, god he was a whiz-bang, I'll tell you. So I said, "What's the, what's the word for troubleshooting?" And he said, "There is no word for troubleshooting. It's busca fias look for troubles, that's trouble shooting." And so he helped me with my speech and I memorized it, because I majored in it so I knew quite a bit of it and he filled in the gaps for me cause I had no dictionary. So when the, when the Colombians, when the Brazilians - particularly Eurico Dutra, Chief of Staff of the Brazilian Army - came around, they didn't, they told me, they didn't know what was going on. We just spoke in English. Well when they got up to my place, I delivered it in Spanish they went for their notebooks and started writing like mad. Of the 16 stations, mine was the only one that meant anything to them because they didn't know. My people didn't know Spanish and they'd deliver it in Spanish [means English] but it went over their heads so when I started my speech in Spanish, boy they whipped out their notebooks. I tell you they were writing furiously so it wasn't a complete failure [laughs]. It made me feel pretty good. JP: Thank you. MHS: Any other questions? [laughs] FRIEND OF MHS: Oh. Mike Popowski downtown, his father, what was his association with you? MHS: We were at Norwich together. [At] Norwich noncommissioned officers lived with noncommissioned officers, commissioned officers lived with commissioned officers, privates lived with privates. FRIEND OF MHS: So how did you know Popowski or Pop? What was his nickname? MHS: Well as a sophomore, at commencement the end of my freshman year, my name wasn't on, I was a private. Well I had been there just a week and I was called into the commandant's office the very first week of school and was promoted to, made a corporal. So I was already living with privates. Popowski was a private. There was four of us: Sullivan (an Irish man), Uthenwoldt (a German), and me (English), and Polish, Popowski. We were in Jackman Hall, A Troop, A Troop. We were troops then, now they are, later became companies. It was A Troop and uh… [trails off]5 FRIEND OF MHS: Now did you stay with Popowski all through your school? MHS: So I was a private up until the very first week of school. I wasn't promoted at commencement. So I had my roommates, so when I was promoted to corporal I think I was the only one rooming with privates. All the others were noncommissioned officers with 5 Michael Popowski, George Patrick Sullivan, both Class of 1934 and Fred William Uthenwoldt, jr., Class of 1935. Page 25 noncommissioned officers. And they would keep the privates with their group so they didn't break it up. So I stayed where I was, but I was a corporal. I guess I was the only corporal, noncommissioned officer, who was in with privates, and Popowski was a private. FRIEND OF MHS: So but did you stay with him when you became a junior or a senior? MHS: No, just my sophomore year. And then my junior year it was just two of us. Sullivan, Sullivan I guess it was. I roomed with him from New Hampshire, Berlin, New Hampshire, was my roommate from, to junior and senior year at Norwich. Troops. I can't remember if we were troops. I think they went from, I think my sophomore year they went from troops to companies. They used to be troops for cavalry, cavalry troops. Same number pretty much, and makeup, but they would call them troops. So the band leader, I would take reports, I would be the officer of the day, and I would say, "Report to reveille." And they'd say "A Company present and accounted for. B Company present and accounted for. C Company." And you would say, "Dismiss your troops," if you were the officer of the day. And they would dismiss their troops. Well the band leader, I can't remember his name now, he wanted to call them troops and they were companies. They went from troops to companies. Well he wanted, the Band Company, he wanted to call 'em troops. So when I go out to take a report I say, "Report!" for if you are on duty, if you are the officer on duty for the whole regiment. And then "A Company present and accounted for. B Company present and accounted for," so on and "Band Company present" and, uh so this guy I can't remember his name now said, called it troop, said "A Troop present and accounted for." Well I could have called him on it and say, "Hey look, we are companies now. You will report as a company not a troop." But said, "My god if he wants to call them a troop, I'm gonna let him call it a troop." So he was the only one in the regiment that called his Band Company a troop. Everybody else was a company, and I let it go. I said, "Hell, I don't give a damn if he wants to call his band a troop, I'll let him." Any other questions? FRIEND OF MHS: I can't think of any right off there, chief! MHS: Well, we'll… FRIEND OF MHS: We'll catch up tomorrow. JP: Thank you very much. FRIEND OF MHS: I'm Dick Brockway JP: Brockway, that's right, we met before. I've got a, I can leave a card if you want, I gave Moe a card. Thank you. MHS: You know that, that helped me, that Colombia deal, it was on my, on my record so I got some wonderful assignments. I was, I was on the Armored, I was an obscure major, and I do not know how many majors there were in the Far East Command. I mean hundreds of them, and in three days they picked me out to be on the General Staff. And I said, "By god, I said God is with Page 26 me, God made that appointment." I mean all these majors, and I was an unknown major and they put me on the General Staff. I never could figure that out. [Moe's friend says goodbye] JP: So let's see, you were in, third overseas assignment was the Japan Logistical Command after the war. You were on the Commander General's Staff and you wrote reports that went up to General MacArthur's Headquarters in Tokyo and then to Washington. MHS: It went through channels, through channels. JP: Through channels. So you worked… MHS: In the final, in the Far East Command, MacArthur, MacArthur's headquarters, he was in, so it went to MacArthur's headquarters because he was the Far East Command. He was command of all, all the post caps and stations in the area, Far East Command. MacArthur, and then to MacArthur, my report went to MacArthur's headquarters, Tokyo, and he sent them on to Washington and what they did with them I don't know. JP: So then you went to Chicago? You were in Chicago during Korea. MHS: Chicago was my last duty station. JP: Last duty station. MHS: I was in Chicago. Oh, Headquarters, Fifth Army. I got it in my hat. Headquarters, Fifth Army, and I lived uptown from Chicago. I wasn't down in the loop, I lived a few blocks north, but it was still Army Headquarters. So I was in Fifth Army Headquarters in Chicago. JP: And what did you do there? MHS: I was a, I was a - Command Reports, I managed Command Reports. In other words, feeder reports came into me and I'd give it to my Division Commander whose business it was to write a report. So he wrote up the reports for me. Ah. Month, weekly or monthly reports, I can't remember which, I can't remember if they were weekly or monthly. So they would come across my desk. He would, he was the head of the—I had 4 divisions, 3 or 4 divisions in my company. And his division was to write up what went on in the Fifth Army Area. So they came to me, and I'd read 'em and there was one time that I changed something. I took out a paragraph that didn't belong, I took it out. So they came to me, I signed it as if it were my report, and sent it on to the next echelon of maintenance. And he would read it, and then he would sign it, that means it was his report then, and then it would go on to GHQ, to General MacArthur. And somebody in Special Services, I was in Special Services, in Special Services in the Far East Command would sign it, and then it is his report! Then it went on to Washington. JP: So what was it like when you worked under Harmon at Norwich? Page 27 MHS: I was, it was pretty good. It started out pretty rough, I guess I told you that something was happened. JP: Yes you got in the elevator and it was slow but Colonel Black… MHS: It was good, it was good under Harmon. We went to the uh, we had something at White River Junction, Dartmouth, and uh, at White River Junction, Dartmouth. And I had a big Cadillac and Harmon, I had a carful in my Cadillac there, and I drove with the wives. We drove to White River somewhere, we drove to some headquarters. And uh, [pause] and we met, we had a meeting, a big meeting somewhere. I don't know if it was White River or if it was Dartmouth, could've been Dartmouth. We had a meeting and Harmon rode in. I had Harmon, Mrs. Harmon and the director of admissions and his wife. And I had Issy. Six of us and we went to this, this meeting for the Area Command or something. I can't remember what it was. And Harmon, he was, he could swear quite a bit and he was a, so he made a speech using pretty rough language. Well the Norwich wives knew he spoke that way, and they expected him to speak that way, but the people outside our command didn't, youknow They had their wives there, they were civilian college wives or something like that. And so Harmon said something using his salty language and they sucked in their breath, you know. He could be pretty salty. And Harmon, so on the way back Harmon knew he made a mistake, "Oh god," he said, "I could cut off my tongue for saying what I said." I said, "Well gee General Harmon," I said. "People know you, they expect you to talk that way. If you didn't, you wouldn't be General Harmon. They'd be disappointed." He said, "Yes, they weren't Norwich wives. They weren't all Norwich wives, means there are some Dartmouth wives in there and they're the ones who sucked in their breath at his language." And I had no reply to that, he was right! JP: So you heard quite a bit of salty language. MHS: Huh? JP: So you heard quite a bit of salty language [louder]. MHS: Oh, oh yes. He was a…I remember one time, we were right here, I think I may have told you already. Women were sitting in here, Mrs. Harmon was sitting right here, and maybe not in this chair but in this place. The men were out around here, was it the Norwich community? I guess it was, yeah, high ranking people, Norwich department heads. And so I looked at him and Leona was sitting here, and Harmon you could hear him, god he had a booming voice. And he said, I guess I told you, "I've thrown my leg over many a French lad!" And I said, "My gosh you can hear him!" How you could hear outside and over here, he had a booming voice. Leona sat there and didn't, she knew Harmon, she didn't flick an eyelash. And he didn't care if she did hear, and he was true. He was quite a, as you call it, cocksman? [laughs] JP: I guess when you live in the military and you work with people closely you get to know their personalities. You get to know their good sides and their bads. What is it about Norwich, you Page 28 seem to really love Norwich and the training and the education that you've got. What is it about Norwich, you think, that makes people so loyal and so attached to it? MHS: Well it's the esprit de corps. It's the spirit of the corps. It's the, it's a, now in my day only, I think 2 graduates were accepted into the Regular Army. The rest including me were reserve officers but two, every year, they would take two for the Regular Army commissions. And then I think they dropped that rule. I don't know when they did go about the Regular Army. Oh I know, the reserve officers, I think it was at [Fort] Knox, they had, we were a lot of reserve officers. So they had a special course, and it turned out not to be much, it was a week of special training for the small group that wanted to go into the Regular Army. So a few reserve officers went. I didn't, I wish I had. But it was a short course, it wasn't demanding at all. It was a piece of cake really, and those people who went to that get a Regular Army commission. I was in the whole time on a reserve Army commission. I could just as well done that, and I thought, I said it was gonna involve a lot of work and isn't probably worth it. What I thought, what I heard, it wasn't hard at all, it was a piece of cake really for that week there was nothing to it. You'd get your Regular Army commission. So I went through all those years as a reserve commission. But, got the same pay. Get promotions just the same as everybody else. JP: And you have lived across from Norwich after you retired. So you've been close to Norwich for, gosh… MHS: I was at Norwich for I think 16 years. JP: I think 18, 16 or 18. MHS: I will tell you one thing really gripping. I was registrar. It is recognized that the registrar's duties were fanned out, or under - when I came in it was all coordinated. I was the first registrar as such, full time registrar in Norwich history. Guinn who writes the history told me that. And now where were we? What did you say? JP: Oh, you said you were going to say something gripping about being a registrar. I said you had lived here a long time. MHS: I was the, I was the first registrar in Norwich history. And, well, Dean Perry, and I loved him. Registrar comes under the Dean, he was the Dean and Registrar is under the Dean.6 So the Dean was my boss. So he came in one day. I had the best office in Dewey Hall with a fireplace on it. It was for the Dean but the Dean didn't want it, he wanted to be off the beaten path 'cause he didn't want to be where people were going by his office. He wanted the privacy, so he took the office way down at the end of the hall and I had the spacious office as Registrar, fireplace and everything! Now where was I? 6Col. Lewis Ebenezer Perry, (1899-1963) died on June 7, 1963 on a Friday, at the Cadet Corps Commencement Parade on Sabine Field. Page 29 JP: A gripping story about being registrar. MHS: The Dean came into my office one day and I liked Dean Perry, I guess I loved him really. He was a wonderful, man wonderful man. [Takes sip of water] And he said, "Let's get down to the," he said, "C'mon," I guess I was a colonel, "Colonel," I might have been a lieutenant colonel. "C'mon and we'll go and go down for the alumni parade." I looked at my watch, and I was pretty busy there. And he said, "I know it's early," he said, "but I thought we'd take our time." I said "okay," it made sense to me. So we started out, he started to take his car. I thought, "What the hell is he taking his car for? Jeesh all we have to do is, Jackman Hall is just down the steps and you are there." But, I thought, "Well, we're early, that's why we are taking it." I said to myself, I was talking to myself. "Oh we're early that's why we are." And so we'd go down and take a step, and stop. Take another step, and stop. And we would talk. And what's he going so damn slowly floor. Then again I said, "Well we're early of course." Now there was a reason for us doing that. He didn't feel good, Well, I didn't know that. So two or three different things I didn't question, I said "Oh, well were early we don't have to hurry about anything." So we got down there and I thought, "I'm gonna have some fun today." The Academic Board is the all-powerful board. The Academic Board is the big thing, academic board, department heads mostly make up the Academic Board. So I said, "I'm gonna have some fun with these guys," 'cause I was a colonel, I was a full colonel and they were lieutenant colonels, the department heads were lieutenant colonels. Now they're colonels, but at that time they were lieutenant colonels and I was a colonel. So I said, "I'm gonna have some fun with these guys." So we had to, we were out on Sabine Field, standing back where the tank is, milling around. So we had to march on to the field and they had a seat for us right in the middle of Sa-Sabine Field, seats. So I was to march them down on. I was the Registrar, so I said, "I'm gonna have some fun with these guys." I said, "I'll treat them like recruits." I said, "Alright Academic Board," I said there to the all-powerful board and department heads. I said alright "Academic Board, fall in!" Like they were a bunch of Rookies. I said, "Fall in!" And they fell in, they fell in, they knew what I meant. So we marched in and "I said, 1, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4," but I didn't shout like "1! 2! 3!" Just timed it, 1, 2, 3, 4, so we would be on step but the rest of them aren't supposed to hear necessarily. So we marched on the field, I halted them, and I said, "Fall out" and they fell out and went to the seats. Well, we were, I looked out at the men and the wives were there in the, in the, in the seats, you know out in the stadium, you know, and I looked around and they were laughing. I said "Boy, the girls are having a wonderful time." The wives of the department heads and everything, they were laughing and having a nice afternoon, they were laughing and everything. Well this cadet came up, he got some award, a corporal, he got some award. And it was the awards parade and they had some special academic awards or whatever awards they were. The Dean was pinning them on, Dean Perry, he went out with me, I took him down. I mean I walked down with him. And so he was a, this corporal I guess came up and he was pinning an award on him at the awards parade. And he turned as if to go back, as if he is going to go up into the stands then he Page 30 whirled around again to get back to where he was and he went down in a heap. And I said "Oh God," and I was looking, before that happened I looked and said, "What's that on the back of the dean's neck." It looked like an hourglass of red. I said, "What the hell is that on the Dean's neck?" I said, well, I don't know. So Lillian, his wife, came down crying cause he, I guess he had a little heart trouble but he tried to do, skate, ice skate and everything to stay in shape and to exercise his heart, you know. I didn't realize that till later on. So she came down crying, after they had been sitting there laughing and having a wonderful time. And all of the sudden [snaps] the switch turned and now she was crying. We didn't know it, but he dropped dead, dead on the parade ground. So they got the ambulance, loaded him into the ambulance and took him down here I guess. And ah, so when they went on with the awards parade, finished the parade, I couldn't tell you what happened, I don't think anybody. To hell with this parade, they just took our minds off worrying about the Dean. So when the Public Relations Officer, I didn't know his name, came to the gate we all rushed over to see how the Dean was and he said, "Well he is dead." Oh my God, what a shock. I tell you that, that, that whole summer we went up to Maine, to Popham Beach, and I didn't have any fun at all, really, I couldn't get him off my mind. Oh God, it was terrible. I had a terrible summer. And I remember this time, I went first day registering for classes and everything and I went there, and all of a sudden I got involved, I was in the midst of organizing something, my position there had me organize. And I swear the Lord put his hand on me and said, "Son, forget it." That's how I figured it out, just like turning on the switch I went from a miserable summer thinking about the Dean, I couldn't get him off my mind, and I went there and still felt bad and then bingo, I rolled up my sleeves and went to work. The weight just dropped right off and I said, "My God, the Lord just answered my prayer, I'm healed, I am ready to go to work." It was that fast. And that is when I began to believe in God. And that's how that went. JP: What was the hourglass on his neck? You said there was an hourglass on his neck. MHS: Well I don't know what it was. It was—showed up from the stands. It was red like an hourglass and I said, "I don't know if anybody else noticed it, probably did." I noticed it when I was sitting back there with the Academic Board. And you see, I was on the Academic Board as Registrar, without a vote. Well I didn't give a goddamn whether I voted or not, but I was on the Academic Board without vote, because of my position as Registrar. And so I sat there and looking for anything in particular and I did see that on his neck, and it was bright red, like an hourglass, spider. What's that spider that has an hourglass and is poisonous? JP: Oh, it's a black widow. MHS: Yeah, looked like a black widow spider and I didn't think anything of it, but it showed up and I was kind of, I sat in back and uh, I could see that. Then I poo-pooed the idea, I said, "Oh that's, that's nothing." But then he dropped, of course we didn't know whether he fainted or what it was, he dropped dead, and that whole summer I was, spoiled my summer, spoiled my whole summer. Page 31 JP: Was it a spider on his neck? MHS: I don't know what that was. I don't know what it was. Bright red. And I said "What is that on his neck?" I wasn't going to ask that. Then he dropped, and course we didn't know he died, we thought he could have just fainted, you know, but he dropped dead. And when the Public Relations Officer came through after the parade, I couldn't tell you what went on the parade, I don't think anybody else did either, paid attention to the parade. But they had the awards parade, and then I remember everybody rushed to the gate because the Public Relations man went up the ambulance that picked up the Dean. He came back and we knew he'd have the story on the Dean. So we all rushed to him to see how the dean was, and he said, "He is dead." JP: Oh my goodness. MHS: And let's see. And I remember so plainly. I of course spoiled my summer. That first day I, so I rolled up my sleeves and went to work and it was, I said, "It left me. It stayed with me all summer and bang!" so I turned on a light switch, and I said, "I'm done, I'm through with it, it's done, it's over with it. And I won't grieve no more. I won't grieve anymore." And I didn't and I marveled at what happened because I was—had such a miserable summer and I guess it was just to work, but like turning on a light switch. I went feeling miserable to I said, "I'm healed now, God made that, made that for me," that's what I said [chuckles]. JP: That's nice, that's nice, is there anything else you want to add about Norwich or your service? MHS: I really can't think of, it was important that I almost quit before I started [chuckles]. And Black, Black was—the Corps played tricks on Black7because Black was deaf. He had a hearing thing. He was pretty deaf. He had this hearing thing, he was always twisting it in his ear, everyone knew he was deaf. So they played a trick on him. One time the band was down at the end of the parade so they decided that they wouldn't play it, take their instruments and make believe they were playing and he wouldn't know the difference. So he walks out of here the band appeared to be playing and they weren't and he figured it was his hearing piece and cadets will do those things, you know, when a weakness, they're good at springing in there. [chuckles] They're clever that way JP: They are resourceful. Did you, when you rode horse, at Norwich, in the cavalry training, did you ride Roman style? Did you stand? Did you guys do that thing where you stand on the two horses? MHS: No, they had, no we didn't do that trick riding. We had, it was scheduled like a class, but, or the classes was every other day, meets 3 times a week, this equitation, everybody had to, was 7 LTC John W. Black, USA (ret) Commandant from 1953-1957 Page 32 a class, you got credit for it or met once a week, and that was in the, I guess the riding hall is still down there. Or the stables are there, I guess, not the riding hall is gone, and what you say now? JP: Did you get thrown at all? Or did everyone get thrown? MHS: Oh [clears throat] No. Once we were, we had a night ride and my horse we ended up in a ditch and it just wide enough for a horse and I was—I straddled the horse and I could get out, my feet were pinned in the trench, you know. It was a deep, deep trench, and it was dug, it was a trench I don't know what the purpose of it was. And I kept my feet out because it was wet in there and I got out but my horse couldn't get out. And they got, I don't know how, they got out, I've gone, but they had probably had to dig to get a pathway out, he was wedged right in there and all you could see was his head, [chuckles] head and his rump, with little bit of his rump. And just room enough so he filled that trench right up, you see? So I didn't see what they went through to get him out, of course they finally got the horse out. Now what did you say? JP: Did you get thrown? But it sounds like everybody… MHS: One time I did. I didn't get thrown, but we were galloping toward the, toward the stables and it was a free-for-all and we were going wide open. Well I was riding a horse named Ham, H-A-M, he slipped and he fell, and it landed probably by—my feet were in my stirrups but landed on my leg, but it didn't hurt me. It was a body, you know, soft, just soft and it didn't hurt me at all, didn't even make me lame, it didn't hurt me at all. And I don't know how it did get to stab- going into the stables. And well I was dismounted, because the horse stumbled and fell, so I went with the horse. That was the only time I ever fell off. JP: But the horse fell, yeah, wow. [pauses] You've done a lot of interesting things from flame throwing to… MHS: Probably, you know if you talk long enough, one things leads to another, and you, maybe one or two of them, most important things I probably haven't even mentioned yet, but I, like anybody else, like you or anybody else, you have certain experiences. And if you go off to visit and you come home, your parents want to know what you did, or somebody wants to know what you did and you try to recollect what you did. Things that impressed you. And I said so many things can happen in the situation I was in. I can, one thing can lead to another, probably two or three funny things that happen that I can't remember right now. The art, I went to theater in Morrisville, we called it Bijou Theater and they'd, before the main figure, they needed a comedy, short comedy. One reel, a comedy or a news. So this time I was sitting in the theater the Pathè News came on. It was a Norwich scene, and I said, and I said, I was so surprised, I remember the scene, I said, "I was there!" I don't know if anybody heard me in the theater. And here I was in the theater and here was a scene "I was there! I was there, "I said, "My God, I was there!" It was Pathè News and it was a big news company, worldwide, Pathè News, and somebody like Pathè, P-A-T-H-E, and everybody knew what Pathè News was. And they'd have either that or a comedy. [inaudible] I don't think anybody heard me when I said, "I was there," but I was. Page 33 JP: Where was, what was Pathè News covering? Was it overseas? MHS: It was, it was, they showed the events of Norwich, showed them coming down a steep hill, very steep hill and they're, horses were fighting, you know, as they went. Horses are well-trained, and I guess they have they trust the rider, he knows what he's doing, and they do, they have to trust the rider, so they knew didn't throw anybody, they knew they had to get down, and they were scooting, sliding, they couldn't walk or down or they had to slide down, down they went, dutifully down the steep hill. And Pathè News, which was a big news in those days, it was the big news and they recorded that scene, so that's why I said, "I was there." [chuckles] I was surprised, small world. Well as you try to recollect things, one thing leads, leads to another. If you ask me something, I go off on a tangent and probably have some remarks, yeah [chuckles]. JP: So you worked at Norwich and then you then retired, what did you do after you retired from Norwich? MHS: Let's see now. I retired, oh, I was in, oh I retired from Norwich… JP: In '70….? MHS: Oh I was Norwich for, oh I retired from Norwich, oh I guess went to, let's see. I retired from Norwich, where was I? Where was I living? I was in Chicago when I came home, I was in Chicago and [pauses] oh well I guess I retired. I just retired. Yeah I just retired. JP: So you retired here? MHS: Yeah, I had several incomes. I had 5 incomes, I can't remember all of them—TIA-CREF, a pension, Norwich salary, working at Norwich. And I remember I had 5 incomes. I had a rental income, so I had 5 incomes. So I had a good income, and when I— JP: Did you travel with Issy? Did you and Issy travel to the places? MHS: Well I, when in the Army, yes. Issy went with me. Took about 5 months for a dependent wife down in Japan. A dependent could not go to Japan. They could go to Europe, because that was all settled, but in Japan that came later on. So the wife, so after the war was over in Japan, it took about 5 months to get your dependent wife over. So I was in Japan and Issy joined me in Japan. Well she had a, it was a Washburn, it was teaching school, teaching American schools, just teaching Americans in schools in Japan. No Japanese, American dependents, children. And Issy, they were waiting, Washburn, her husband, she worked in the school system and she knew Issy was a teacher so they desperately need teachers. So I [she] said, "Has Issy got here yet, when's she coming and everything?" So Issy got there 11:00 in the morning and 1:00 she was teaching school, American children [chuckles] and so what we did, we lived—Issy she had a GS-7, that's a federal rating, you know the ratings? And she was a GS-7, which is officer, I mean, so Issy on her own, if she wasn't married to me, well that job she could go to an officer's club. IfPage 34 she was GS-5, she couldn't, but with a GS-7 she could go on her title to an officer's club. So now what were? JP: Issy traveling and teaching in Japan MHS: Yeah. She taught a—I think a graded school, then she had a special class of Japanese. And I didn't think Japanese were very goodly people but by golly, Issy, well she was at the wheel, she had this meeting and she passed out certificates. They passed a certain field in education, she trained them—she was the head of the school system, of that particular school system. And so Issy ran that show and I'm pretty proud of her and by gosh and I sat there and they'd come get their diplomas and oh they were so pleased those Japanese to get their diploma, and I look at them and for the first time I saw a beautiful Japanese girl. Most of them aren't very pretty, but by golly they were that day, I said, "By God, what a beautiful, beautiful girl, they came by me." The Japanese you have to get used to them, they have kind of a flat look like somebody slammed the door on their face or something there they, I couldn't see a pretty one there, but after I'd been there awhile there were some pretty Japanese girls. We had a maid, we were allowed two but we only wanted one. We had a male, he was a handsome Japanese man, young man, but he was a really handsome guy. He wasn't dependable so we let him go, he didn't show up when he felt like it. So we fired him. All we wanted was one anyway, and our quarters was just where we wanted it [phone goes off]. Our quarters were on a block. You could look down south of the yard and see all the shipping in the port. Oh it was a beautiful thing, we were up high and we'd look down and we were, my office was right down at the customs, customs building port of entry in Japan. And we'd, we'd, many a time there would be a cloud, you couldn't see anything, and you'd drive about a quarter or half mile, quarter or half mile, you'd be riding that cloud, when you're in it, you couldn't see much, but it was like a heavy fog. Then you'd come out of it, come out of it there's the blows all laid out for it. It was the headquarters, it was the port of entry for Japan, for commercial shipping, commercial shipping. And I had an office down there. JP: You liked Japan? MHS: I was up on the bluff. Oh I had a real, it was quarters and 388. "Oh I want those quarters." Well what they do, they post them as they come available. I knew 388 had, of all of quarters up on the bluff, way up, looking down, I said, "That is the one I want." Well they'd post - be 5 or 6 housing be available - and when your name got to the top, you got a choice, you take second place, second choice of those say ten or dozen available. And if you didn't take it, you're holding up someone, then your name went down to the bottom of the list. So you, so you couldn't get top and stay in the top. If you didn't take something, holding up for something better, you went down the bottom. So they said you couldn't do that. So I, my number didn't come up and wasn't my time to choose yet and I said, "Oh geez I hope that number doesn't come up too soon." And so my number came up, a group of people for housing, you like to stay there, at such time that you can get housing for you, you had to be there a little while before you got housing, say 10 days or something like that to get housing and that's it, oh man I said, 'Oh God, I Page 35 hope that 388 is there, if isn't I'm screwed, 'cause that's the one I wanted,' and it hadn't been on the list at all, my name was on it, that's where my lame name come up, then you got to choose, and if you don't, then you get down the bottom of the list, so you got to choose, and 'Bam' me, 388, and 'Bam,' just I wanted so I was high on the bluff and I could look down at the shipping and the port, it was way up high on the bluff, oh God it was nice. JP: What port was it, what was the name of the port, do you remember? MHS: The port? JP: Yeah, what town was it? MHS: I think it was the main port of entry, had a big huge beautiful brick building. JP: Was it Tokyo? MHS: Yeah, no, no Yokohama, Tokyo was about 17 miles I think it didn't take long because it had a beautiful, I think, 2 way highway between Yokohama and Tokyo. So you can get to Yokohama, you can be in Yokohama, and you can be in Tokyo in 20 minutes, you couldn't drive very fast. It had this beautiful road but the—I think you're limited 25 miles an hour, and I got stopped once I thought I was staying, and the GI, GI's they wrote me up I guess for speeding, I think I was going probably 26 miles an hour, something like that, and I got a ticket from a GI but he was authorized to do it, he was an MP. JP: What did you drive, what kind of car were you driving? MHS: I had a, I had Buicks, I had a new Buick, I bought a new Buick and two weeks after I bought it, I got my call to report to, I was in New England, in Vermont, to get, Seattle I think it was, a certain time no San Francisco, be in San Francisco. Then when I got in San Francisco, then Roosevelt directed me to Seattle, I got to San Francisco, then for two or three days, then they sent me to Seattle, so I shipped out of, originally it said San Francisco, but they sent me to San Francisco, I waited then they sent me to Seattle and I shipped out of Seattle for Japan, does that answer your question? JP: That's good, so you liked Japan? MHS: Yeah, so my—your car follows you by about 2 weeks so they ship your car but you have to wait about 2 weeks, before your car catches up with you. So I did, so I had a new Buick and I traded every year for a new Buick with the Japanese people, they're nice people and what I did was I'd buy a new Buick after a year I turned it in and they'd give me another new Buick. No deprecation or anything, so I got 3 brand new Buicks at no cost, and when I got home, I sold it for what I paid for it, you couldn't raise the price on a new car. That was a Japanese law, you couldn't raise a price on a new car, you could on a used car. So what they would do is buy a new car, and if you didn't want put it up on the market, then they'd probably double the money, you Page 36 couldn't sell a new car beyond the market price. Well I wanted a, they had 4 Cadillacs, well I guess I was—I was outranked or something another, I didn't get the Cadillac anyways, they only had 4. So I said to the Japanese, I said, 'Don't you now wished now you sold me the Cadillac, because I said I would sold it back to you?' that's what I did with my new Buick. I said I sold it back to you, double your money, and said, 'Yes we could have.' That was—I was too late. [chuckles] Background voice: I'm sorry to interrupt, we're about to leave, and we're about to pull out of the garage. JP: Oh, sure, well, do you have anything else you want to add Moe? MHS: Not unless, you have any questions. JP: I just want to thank you, truly for giving me the time and all this wonderful information. MHS: I like to rehash old times and I have to stop to think, to, you forget these things, but I was, I remember I felt like, I said, 'God's with me and I was an unknown major, and I had been there 3 days, and I was named the General Staff and I said, 'Uh huh,' I said, 'there must be hundreds of majors that would give their ITs to be on the General Staff,' and I was a new major, and somebody God, somebody lead me to them or me, and after 3 days I got a job on the General Staff, and I thank God for that, I said, 'God had a hand in that.' [chuckles] JP: That's certainly true, well you must have been good, [both interrupt] MHS: Oh well, I don't know…

Issue 28.1 of the Review for Religious, 1969. ; EDITOR ¯ R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 631o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 3~i Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9~o6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited v¢ith ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial ottices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. 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Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to REvlr:w rOa R~L~GIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint ~ouis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answermg should be sent to the address Gf the Questions and Answers editor. JANUARY ~969 VOLUME ~8 NUMBER t REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Volume 28 1969 EDITORIAL OFFICE 539 North Grand Boulevard St. Louis, Missouri 63103 BUSINESS OFFICE 428 East Preston'Street Baltimore, Maryland 21202 EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Dlederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gailen, S.J. Published in January, March, May, July, September, Novem-ber on the fifteenth of the month. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is indexed in the Catholic Peri. odical Index and in Boo/~ Re. view Index. Microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Ml. crofilms; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. HILARY SMITH, O.C.D. Qgiet Prayer for Busy Busy religious today seem to be shying away from more contemplative approaches to prayer. The references to quiet and recollection in the older spiritual books are considered now to refer back to a time when every-one's approach to God was modeled on that of cloistered nuns and monks. Yet, outside the religious life people as diverse as Walter Kerr and about the importance of some we are to maintain our sanity. I think it might be helpful the approach to God through Harvey Cox are writing kind of quiet periods if at this time to see that recollection and periods of quiet is neither an approach suited only for monastic congregations nor simply a far out, naturalistic fad in-dulged in by flower children. I think it might be profit-able to examine the approach some of the busy fathers of the Church used in treating of prayer to show that traditionally the effort to find God through recollection was not a practice limited to people in monasteries and cloistered convents. It is interesting to see what a lofty concept of prayer some of the busiest fathers of the Church recommended to their equally busy congregations. While the fathers did speak of prayer as asking God for things, just as preachers a few years ago did, they did not hesitate to talk or write about prayer as a simple raising of the heart to God, as recollection. This might be expected among the monastic Fathers such as St. Basil. But I think it is significant that the more active fathers--bishops, teach-ers-- should tell their congregations--the same people they warned about fornication and drunkenness--about the higher kinds of prayer. It will be helpful, before looking at the works of the fathers, to establish a fairly clear idea of the notion of praye~ that we will be looking for. What we hope to find are suggestions on the part of the fathers that their ÷ ÷ ÷ Hilary Smith, O.CJ3., lives at 7907 Bellaire Boul-evard in Houston, Texas 77096. VOLUME 28, 1969 ÷ ÷ ÷ Hilary Smith, O.C~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS congregations of working men and housewives practice what we would call today, or at least would have called a few years ago, "mental prayer." In St. Teresa of Avila's classic definition, mental prayer "is nothing but friendly intercourse, and frequent solitary converse with Him who we know loves us." 1 This definition of prayer is broad enough to include methodical meditation and even vocal prayers said well, but I believe that it shows that the essence of mental prayer is not a systematic arrangement of considerations with a concluding resolution. Rather mental prayer consists essentially in "tratando," dealing with God, in a friendly way. St. Teresa presents a more specific method of mental prayer, sometimes called the prayer of active recollection. "It is called recollection because the soul collects together all the faculties and enters within itself to be with its God," St. Teresa says in the now quaint sounding language of faculty psychol-ogy. It is with this specific form of prayer, active recollec-tion, that we shall be especially interested. It is impor-tant for us today to understand that this approach to prayer was not peculiar to St. Teresa or to the medieval monastic tradition. It represents a traditional Christian approach to prayer recommended to busy Christians long before men and women with education and leisure were almost all found in monasteries and convents. I hope that the following few remarks of the fathers on prayer will show that the early fathers, not haunted'as spiritual writers a few years ago were, by the spectre of Quietism, did not hesitate to recommend to their congregations a form of prayer that we might think to be too lofty or too mystical. One. very good example of a father of the Church addressing himself to ordinary lay people yet recommend-ing a lofty prayer of recollection is St. Gregory of Nyssa. He was almost certainly married, since in his treatise on virginity he says that he regrets that he himself is pre-vented from attaining to the glory of this virtue. Al-though it is true that he lived in a monastic community for a while, he is most famous as the active bishop of Nyssa, a post he held for eight years., In his works es-pecially in his commentaries on the Lord's Prayer and the Beatitudes, he has in view the needs of the average Christian. Although he is inclined to the asceticism of the desert, he is not a desert father living in isolation from the world around him--a world that seems in many ways similar to our own--but rather a man living in the .1 St. Teresa, Way of Perlection, in The Complete Works o/ St. Teresa, trans. E. Allison Peers (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1950), v. 2, p. 115. world, steeped in its culture and interested in all it has to offer.~ In his treatise on the Lord's Prayer, St. Gregory de-scribes his idea of prayer: "First my mind must become detached from anything subject to flux and change, and tranquilly rest in motionless spiritual repose, so as to be rendered akin to Him who is perfectly unchangeable; and then it may address Him by this most familiar name and say: Father." a St. Teresa's description of the prayer of recollection in her commentary on the Lord's Prayer is closely parallel. She says: "The soul withdraws the senses from all outward things and spurns them so com-pletely that, without its understanding how, its eyes close and it cannot see them and the soul's spiritual sight becomes clear." 4 We must be careful to understand that neither St. Teresa nor St. Gregory is describing some form of mys-tical prayer. St. Teresa is careful to explain that what she is describing "is not a supernatural state but depends upon our volition; by 'God's favor we can enter it of our own accord." 5 Thus St. Teresa distinguishes this recol-lection from what the students of mystical phenomena called "infused contemplation." St. Gregory is not so explicit, but he gives us to understand that the mind lifts itself from created things and places itself at rest in God. There seems to be no question here of God effect-ing something extraordinary in communicating with the Christian. Less to the point is St. Gregory's definition of prayer in general. He says: "Prayer is intimacy with God and contemplation of the invisible." n Though not so graphic as the earlier description, this definition shows St. Greg-ory's lofty concept of prayer; and, found in a treatise written for laymen, it shows that he was not afraid of presenting his lofty ideas to ordinary people. Another early Christian writer who recommends a contemplative type of prayer to ordinary men and women is Origen. His treatise, De Oratione, one of the first Christian treatises of prayer, was written as a reply to questions raised by his friend and patron, the married deacon Ambrose. Although Origen does not describe a kind of active recollection as clearly as St. Gregory, he does indicate that married folk, such as Ambrose, need not confine their praying to the recitation of vocal pray-ers or to asking God for favors. His description of the preparation for prayer brings to mind St. Teresa's defini- = St. Gregory of Nyssa, The Lord's Prayer. The Beatitudes, trans. Hilda C. Graef (Westminster: Newman, 1954), pp. $, 8, 15, 19. 8 Ibid., p. ~8. *Peers, v. 2, 115. 5 Peers, v. 2, 110. 6 St. Gregory of Nyssa, p. 24. + ÷ ÷ Quie~ Prayer VOLUME 28 ~.969 5 4- Hilary Smith, O.C.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 6 tion of prayer as a friendly converse with God. He says that by the very way one disposes his mind to prayer, by the very attitude with which one prays, "he shows that he is placing himself before God and speaking to Him as present, convinced that He is present and looking at Him." 7 Further on he says: "When praying let us not babble, but let us speak to God"; and, "When we pray in this way [in secret] we shall be conversing with God." In another context, in his Contra Celsum, Origen speaks of approaching God in a similar, contemplative-like way. Celsus has complained that the Christians do not worry about the cult due to the national idols, nor do they erect temples for their own worship. Origen answers in a beautiful passage where he says that Christians carry the image of their God within themselves. Every Chris-tian, he says, "strives to build an altar and carve a statue himself, keeping his eyes fixed on God, keeping his heart pure, and trying to become like God." s Again in De oratione, Origen recommends that Am-brose find a quiet place in his home to pray: "If you want to pray in greater quiet and without so much. dis-traction, you may choose a special place in your own house, if you can, a consecrated place, so to speak, and pray there." 0 Origen might well have been speaking to today's busy sisters. Another Church writer known for his work on prayer is Tertullian. Scholars say that Origen very likely drew many of his ideas on prayer from a Greek translation of Tertullian's De oratione. Some idea o[ his realistic recom-mendations to busy people on prayer may be drawn from this remark in his treatise on marriage and remarriage. He has been speaking of the value of continence as an aid in attaining union with God. Then almost equating prayer and union, he says that "men must need pray every day and every moment of the day." This may seem like only a paraphrase of the command "Pray always," but in the context it can be considered as an elaboration of Christ's command. Tertullian does not take Christ's words to mean that we should be constantly petitioning God for help, but rather that Christians should be con-stantly united to God in prayer through much the same kind of converse or treating with God that St. Teresa recommends. One last remark, this h'om St. John Damascene, may serve as a summing up ot what we have seen in St. Greg-ory o~ Nyssa, Origen, and Tertullian about the possi-r Origen, Prayer. Exhortation to Martyrdom, trans. John J. O'Meara (Westminster: Newman, 1954), p. 37. Cels., 8, 17, 18; quoted in Jean Danielou, Origen (New York, 1955), p. 35. Origen, Prayer, p. 43. bility for a contemplative approach to prayer for busy people. It is true that at the time he produced his little work, Barlaam and Joasaph, he was more of a monk than an active preacher, but he says that he is summarizing the ideas of the fathers before him. He says that the fathers define prayer as "the union of man with God," "angel's work," and "the prelude of gladness to come." He asks: "How shalt thou converse with God?" and an-swers: "By drawing near him in prayer." And he ex-plains: "He that prays with exceedingly fervent desire and a pure heart, his mind estranged from all that is earthly and grovelling, and stands before God eye to eye, and presents his prayers to him in fear and trem-bling, such a one has converse and speaks to him face to face." lo Better known, and at the same time a perfect example of a man who was busy, prayerful, and ready to recom-mend prayer to his congregation was St. Augustine. The ditficulty in discussing St. Augustine's approach to prayer briefly is that he has said so much about prayer. I have selected a few passages in which he seems to be speaking especially to busy people and in which he seems to be dealing with what we would call mental prayer, and more specifically with the approach to mental prayer that we described above as active recollection. Shortly after his conversion, before his baptism, Augus-tine retired for awhile to the country where he might have the leisure for prayer. We know from his Con-fessionsix that at this time he began to pour out his soul to God using the words of the Psalmist. But his corre-spondence with his friend Nebridius reveals that at the same time he was trying to withdraw from the noise of the world to find God in the depths of his soul; that he was, in our terminology, practicing mental prayer. His withdrawal was not a flight into the desert or monastery. He still considered himself and Nebridius as "busy people." The recollection he recommends to Nebridius is a practice made easier by the.solitude and leisure he is enjoying for a time in the country, but it is a practice which he says will be helpfullin the midst of activity. First he tells Nebridius of the advantages of adoring God in the "innermost recesses of the soul." He promises him that this recollection brings with it a "freedom from fear," and "an inner peace which permeates our human activity when we return to activity from our inner shrine." Finally, he tells him: "You, Nebridius, are free 10St. John Damascene, Barlaam and Joasaph, trans. Gr. Wood-ward and H. Mattingly (Cambridge: Cambridge University, 1937), p. 295. ~ St. Augustine, Contessions, trans. F. J. Sheed (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1943), p. 185. + + Quiet Prayer VOLUME 28, 1969 Hila~J Smith, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS of fear only when you are inwardly recollected." lz From the Very beginning of h.is life as a Christian; St. Augustine shows, an attraction to solitary converse with God. His own prayer and the advice he gives his busy friend Nebri- ~lius furnish an interesting contrast to the prayer for-merly described in convent spiritual 'reading books. There is no question in St. Augustine's mind about re-pe~ iting many vocal prayers or following-some well-or-ganized meditatiOn plan. A few ~ears later, now a priest, St. Augustine con-tinued his exhortations, .encouraging a ~ontemplative approach to prayer, in The Lord's Sermon 'on" the Mount. He comments on Christ's words: "But when you pray, enter into your chambers." The chambers, h~ says, are our hearts.' We must close the door on things without, "all transitory and visible things which through our fleshly senses noise in upon us while we pray." Then there takes place a turning of the heart tO God; and this very effort we make in praying calms the heart, makes it clean and more capable of receiving the divine gifts. He says: "It is not words we should use in dealing with God. but it is the things we carry in our mind and the direction of our thoughts with pure .love and single affection." These ideas, coming as they do early in St. Augustine's life as a Christian, and very much like, in spirit, the teachings of the neo-Platonists on contemplation, may seem more like Platonism than Christianity. In fact, it might be argued that most of the people cited thus far, including St. Teresa, were influenced by.Platonism. It is not within the scope of this paper to discuss the influence of Platonism on Christian mysticism, nor is the question of great practical import. If authorities on prayer have found that they could effectively approach God in a way that resembles the approach of some philosophers to peace or wisdom, then the marvelous thing is not that some Christians are using a pagan philosophy in their prayer, but rather that there is such a universal inclina-tion in human nature to withdraw from the hustIe and bustle of the world from time to time and turn to loftier things. This inclination was recognized by the pagan philosophers and far eastern mystics, but it can find its best realization in a Christian context in which a personal God comes to live intimately with those who are really dedicated to Him. Later in his life, St. Augustine kept hi~ lofty concept of prayer, although, as a result of his struggle with the Pelagians, he seems to make more mention of prayer as petition. He has to explain that no one can receive ~St. Augustine's Letters, trans. Sr. WilIrid Parsons, S.N.D. (New York: 1951), v. 1, p. 157. grace simply by asking for it, but rather we ask because we have been moved by grace. Nevertheless, his classic definition of prayer in the ninth sermon on the Passion shows that he is not limiting the prayer of his congrega-tion to vocal prayer or meditation. He defines prayer as "the affectionate movement of the mind towards God." In the Enarratio in Psalmum 85, we find the idea ex-pressed above by St. Teresa that prayer is converse with God. St. Augustine says: "Your prayer is conversation with God. ~Nhen you read, God speaks to you; when you pray, you speak to God.'.' As St. Augusdnffbecame more and more imbued with the theology and language of the Bi, ble and more forgetful of Platonism, his thoughts on prayer at6 expressed more in Biblical metaphors than in philosophical abstractions. He had told Nebridius to turn away f(om created things and try to converse with God in the center of his soul. His descriptions of this contemplation of God are not too unlike the instructions of the neoPlatonists on the contemplation of true wisdom. In his later years, St. Augustine continues to instruct Christians on~ the importance of dealing With God through the heart, not just with the lips, of worshiping God in spirit, in truth, not simply in an external way. But now he presents his teaching more in the words of Christ, St. John the Evangelist, the Psalms, and less in the language of Plodnus. He frequently cites Christ's directive about praying in our own chambers, and he explains that the chambers are our hearts,is He quotes Jesus also on not using many words when we pray;14 He likes to point out that the Psalmist who so frequently calls or shouts to God is crying with his heart: " 'You have heard, Lord, the voice of my prayer. You heard when I shouted to you.' This shout to God is made not with the voice but with the heart. Many, with their lips ¯ sil.ent,~ shout with their hearts; others, making a great deal of noise with their mouths, have their hearts turned away and can ask for nothing. If then, you are going to shout, shout from within where God hears." ~ St. Augustine, then, all through his life recommended to his congregations a lofty form of prayer. He did not think it unrealistic to suggest that his people, who Were not cloistered nuns or monks, should strive after a prayerful, contemplative awareness of God's personal presence. Very likely he had achieved a contemplative union with God himself in the midst of his bu~y life and knew that it was possible for others. The modern, harried religious should not feel that his own contemplative aspirations are at all unrealistic. Rather he should see taEnar, in Ps, n. 5; Epis. 130. 14 Sermo 80. 15 Enar. II in Ps. 30, serm. 5. ÷ + ÷ VOLUME 28, 1969 9 ÷ Hilary Smith, O.C.D . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS them as an important aspect of the Christian tradition in which he lives. Another great, active Church father with lofty ideas about prayer is St. John Chrysostom. He also defines prayer as a "conversation ~vith God." a6 He explains the first verse of Psalm 140, "Lord I shouted to you and you heard me," as the cry of a deeply prayerful man. The Psalmist here, he says, speaks of "an internal shout, from a heart of fire. He who thus shouts with his heart, turns to God with his whole heart." Always interested in the affective nature of prayer, he makes an important dis-tinction in explaining verse one of Psalm 5: "You hear my shout." The shout, he says, is not "an intonation of the voice but an affection of the mind." 17 To indicate the lofty nature of the kind of prayer he has in mind he says that it is a duty which we have in common with the angels. To pray with the proper rev-erence we must remove ourselves from worldly things and place ourselves in the middle of the choirs of angels. Although St. John Chrysostom has special praise for the life of monks he is anxious that everyone should give themselves to prayer, "both civil servants and private citizens, both men and women, both the elderly and the young, both slaves and freemen." as And he gives special instructions for busy housewives who would like to spend some time in quiet prayer. He reminds them that unlike their husbands "in the middle of the forum or before the tribunal, stirred up by external things as by heavy waves," housewives should be able to sit down for awhile in the privacy of their homes and recollect themselves. In this way they are like those who go out to the desert, bothered by no one: "Thus the housewife, always remaining within, can enjoy a permanent tran-quillity." Obviously St. John Chrysostom had the same notion of a housewife's life as many men today--and his ideas were probably received with the same disdain. But we are not citing John Chrysostom so much for his socio-logical data as for the importance he attaches to a con-templative form of prayer even for housewives. He ex-plains that even if she is forced to go out to Church or to the baths, once she has acquired the habit of recollection she need not be perturbed. What is more, the prayerful, recollected wife will be able to quiet a restless husband and help him forget the worries and cares of the forum.19 If we remember that St. John Chrysostom recommends a certain amount of solitude and prayer for everyone, ~ In Cap. X1 Gen., Horn. 30 n. 5. a7 Exposit. in Psalm. 5, n. 3. rs Homil. encomiast, in S. Meletium, n. 3. a~ In Jo. homil. 61, nn. 3, 4. we can profit from his commentary on Christ's prayer away from the crowds. St. John is not suggesting that everyone flee into a desert, but rather that everyone imi-tate Christ by leaving the noise of society for a little while to be able to pray and thus to return strengthened and fortified. It is thus that St. John explains the words of St. Matthew: "After he had dismissed the crowds he went up into the hills by himself to pray." ~0 "Why did Christ go up into the mountain? That he might teach us how appropriate is the wilderness, is solitude, for calling upon God. He thus frequently sought the wilderness and spent the night there that he might instruct us that we ought to seek out tranquil times and places for prayer." ~x St. John insists that the solitude necessary for prayer is not the physical solitude of the desert. Christians can pray everywhere because "God is always near." We can pray "in the bath [St. John seems especially interested in the possibility of prayer here] on the road, in bed, before the judge." ~ He says that it is not necessary to be rich or a philosopher to pray, but that even manual laborers can pray "as in a monastery: for it is not the comfortable-ness of a place, but an upright life that brings us quiet." ~3 St. John's insistence that everyone can pray everywhere at any time is b:.sed on two principles: First that God is always near to us, actually living in us as in a temple: "The grace of the Holy Spirit makes us temples of God so that it might be easier for us to pray." ~4 Secondly, we can pray always because in prayer, "the mouth makes no sound, while the mind shouts." Religious should understand, then, that aspiring to a more simple, contemplative approach to prayer, even in the midst of a highly active life, is not at all unrealistic. In fact it is more in keeping with the Christian tradition and the aspirations of human nature than the formalized meditations stressed so much in religious houses in the last two or three centuries. It is an approach to God long fostered by some of the most active fathers of the Church and recommended by them to their equally active con-gregations. .-o Mt 14:23. -~ In Mt. homil. 50. m Homil. de Canan., n. 11. ~ Ad llluminand. Cateches., I, n. 4. =4De Anna, serm. IV, n. 6. + 4- Quiet Prayer VOLUME 28, ]! VINCENT P. BRANICK, S.M. Formation and Task ÷ ÷ + Vincent P. Bran-ick0 S.I~I., is a mem-ber of the Maria-nist Seminary; Regina Mundi; gri-bourg, Switzerland. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS A dilemma confronts those charged with the forma-tion of religious today. A program of formation which encourages the spontaneity of the religious, one which minimizes regulations and concentrates on personal re-sponsibility seems to be the only valid method of forma-tion today. This is true not only for houses of formation but also for active community life where growth in per-sonal identity and in a way of life must continue. But in such a program of formation severe difficulties of vocation often arise. Self-doubt replaces original enthusiam. Scep-ticism challenges the very viability of religious life. And many leave. I believe these vocation difficulties are neces-sarily connected with this type of formation. In such programs administrators engage and direct the critical spirit of members to the interior structures of the life. Focusing on the life of the individual and the com-munity, this criticism strives to minimize the regulated activities and increase the optional elements of daily life. By allowing a religious to choose for himself the details of his life, the administrators hope both to develop per-sonal autonomy and help the younger member to identify himself fully with the life of the community. Seldom, however, do these great hopes materialize in a more vigorous religious life. In fact where superiors implement these reforms most whole heartedly, the greatest difficulties seem to arise. The critical spirit focuses on the interior structures of the life, and the agonizing questions begin. To what minimum should we limit our regulations? What is the basic concept of re-ligious life from which we can derive these minimum regulations? Can the present superiors be trusted to define religious life as it should be? Can a member rely on anyone but himself to conceive the definition and regulations of the religious life he is to lead? This distrust, self-doubt, and aggression generated by this type of criticism is isolating religious in an extreme individualism and is draining away real enthusiasm. The difficulty, however, is not with the criticism in itself, I believe, as with the notion of regulation implied both in this type of critical questioning and in the defensive at-tempts to answer. The basic difficulty consists in a loss of the practical sense of rule, in attempts to deduce rules from a defined concept of religious life rather than from a practical selection of religious tasks. Without an appreciation of objective task as the coun-terpart of rule, the efforts to criticize and modernize our programs of formation are developing an ex.ag.ger.a.ted self-consciousness. Our great emphasis on minimizing rules and developing autonomy is throwing out of bal-ance the dynamic but delicate dialectic of human life ¯ between self-consciousness and self-forgetfulness in task, between subjectivity and objectivity. "Responsibility," "fulfillment," and "freedom," the key words of today's personalism, pertain to subjective states of an individual, just as "minimum regulation" and "optional time" pertain to the subjective or interior conditions of a community. These terms indicate a re-flection of the subject on himself. As developing from this reflection, they are abstract and formal, belonging to a secondary thematic. As categories of human life they are certainly valid; but when taken out of their relation to a concrete activity in a concrete situation, they are deceiving. When considered outside of this relation, these terms appear very precise in. idealistic simplicity. They are ideals and in their simplicity, they evoke a radical response, a response that is immediate and totally absorbing. Men die for freedom. Priests leave their Church for fulfillment. But when these categories are not separated from their context in life, their simplicity is lessened by the com-plexity of daily business. Their radicalness is tempered by respect for the values of concrete situations. The re-sponse to these ideals can still be radical and totally ab-sorbing, but in a way that is more realistic, persevering, and in the end more effective. The objective and concrete counterpart of these sub-jective and reflex categories is task. Task is the creation of values that can be shared, values not simply of an individual subject but of a public world, where many can partake. Yet, task is more than a man's material work. It includes also his duty to worship God, his duty to be thoughtful and thankful of truth and beauty, because such duties are eminently public, even when accom-plished in silence. Task is the outward going service of that which is not self. By emphasizing task as the necessary correlative of subjectivity, we respect the nature of the human subject. Man is no't an enclosed container but an outward thrust to another. Human subjectivity is basically intention-ality. The self becomes self in becoming other. Here we 4. ÷ Formation and Ta~k VOLUME 28, 1969 + ÷ ÷ V. P. Branick, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 14 have the fundam.ental human paradox--a man finds himself through his interest in another, a man achieves personal autonomy by binding himself in love of the other, a man can reflecton ideals only when engaged in tasks. Only the altruistic love of a task can preserve and intensify personal autonomy in the unavoidable restric-tions imposed by daily choices. Choosing some goal or some means to a goal always restricts and limits, whether a person simply accepts, another's choice or whether he chooses for himself. A decision always ex-cludes a multitude of alternatives. But a person who loves his task in no way loses autonomy by this restriction. In his love he concentrates himself in the positive core of his decision, locating his life in the values he wants to accomplish. Without that love he remains scattered over all the alternatives so that the restriction of the al-ternatives becomes a restriction of self. For example, one who loves the task of community prayer can accept the restrictions of a community schedule. One who loves his task of witnessing to eschatological values can accept disengagements from some elements of the commerce of civilization. In these loves a person seeks the fulfillment of what is not himself, and by so doing he develops in and through the unavoidable limitations. Fulfillment by love of task is such a common occur-rence that we tend to overlook it. We find it in the suc-cessful professional man, in the loving parents of a fam-ily, in the dedicated missionary. Conversely, we are struck by the lack of autonomy in the person concen-trating on his own stature in a type of adolescent self-consciousness. The person concentrating directly on achieving his autoflomy is the person least capable of finding it. By centering his attention on himself he can-not maintain the intensity of his normal thrust to the outside without which he cannot live as a mature free man. The man without a task is a tragic figure. The soul searching into which he is forced only aggravates the loss of identity he suffers. He is caught in a closed circle until another comes to him and appeals for his cooperation. In our present appreciation of personalism, the notion of task has faded from importance. Task appears as an impersonal category, something to do rather than some-one to relate to. But in no way are task and person op-posed. Rather the two notions are inseparable in the understanding of human relations. A task has signifi-cance only in view of the person who will benefit from it. And relating to a person implies concrete action that is more than purely symbolic gesture. To limit our cor-poral activities in interpersonal dynamics to mere signs of interior attitudes is to attempt an angelic community and to end up in a gross sentimentalism. Our interper-sonal relations are not simply encounters between spirits. Human community demands the creation of values through corporal work as a medium of com-munication. Task as an impersonal category is an in-dispensable presupposition for a truly human person-alism. A human community receives its unity and its identity from its common tasks. No community can exist on its own substance. A community which concentrates only on interior community life will never attain the well being of its members. The cohesion and dynamism of a com-munity results from a common advancement toward a goal which transcends the community. The convergence of the members with each other results from the con-vergence of all the members on a common goal. In selfless striving for this goal, the members find them-selves united. Their mutual confidence rests on the con-fidence each has that the other' is striving for the com-munity goal, or at least is not surreptitiously seeking his personal advantage to the detriment of that goal. Dis-unities are constructive only if they occur in the context of a greater dynamic unity. If the members agree on their general task, their different ways of conceiving the specific work enter into a productive dialectic. Even adamant differences about the means to accomplish a task are not divisive in the context of agreement about the end. But where members disagree on the basic task of the community, where they dispute the primary pur-pose of themselves as a group, there can be no dynamic coherence. No amount of dedication of the members to each other as individuals can supply for this lack of dedication to a common task. No matter how much the members love each other as persons, they cannot function together. In such a group, accord can exist only by agree-ment not to work together. That is, accord can exist be-tween individuals, but not between members of a func-tioning community. After saying all this about the dependence of the in-dividual and. communitarian subject on its tasks, we cannot stop here without risking a onesided distortion. All I have said is open to the totalitarian interpretation that individuals and communities should uncritically accept and dedicate themselves to tasks handed to them from the past. This is not true. A continuation of the analysis of the relation between self and task indicates why this is not true. Our objective tasks are not fully intelligible in and by themselves. These tasks depend on the subject just as the subject depends on the tasks. Every task presupposes a certain readiness in the subject. Ira man is not ready to meet objective realities by a Formation and Task VOLUME 2B, 1969 15 V. P. Branick, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS certain sensitivity or openness to them, he will never recognize them when he comes across them. And with-out this recognition the objective task can never exist. An educational task exists only for an educated person. A religious task exists only for a religious person. Only by knowing his own religious demensions can a person articulate and thereby give reality to an objective reli-gious task. Besides depending on a subject's recognition, a task also depends for its existence on a subject's freedom in accepting or rejecting it. A task exists only as someone's task, and only in a person's free decision can a task be-come his. The automaton cannot create a task for itself because it cannot freely identify its good with the accom-plishment of the task. A free decision is thus necessary for the existence of a task, and such a free decision pre-supposes a subject who has already achieved.a degree of selfhood or autonomy. This dependence of the object on the subject holds also for communitarian dynamics. The recognition and free acceptance or rejection by a community of its task presupposes a level of coherence and self-understanding already .existing in that community. A task could never draw a group if the group could not direct itself through a group decision. We seem to have an unbreakable circle here. The autonomy of the subject presupposes a thrust toward its objective task, but this thrust presupposes the au-tonomy of the subject. In reality this mutual dependence exists more as a dialectic or oscillation between self and task, by which the subject grows in maturity and his work grows in precision and importance with each turning of the self to his task and from task to self. At the beginning of this dialectic lies, on the one hand, the basic openness of the human spirit, and, on the other, the original call of reality which can only be the direct appeal of God Himself. Task, as this dialectic reveals, has a role in human life which is at once relative and absolute. Any given task will be relative because it depends on the subject who can therefore criticize and change it. This dependence of the task on the recognition and decision of the subject refutes a totalitarian submission of the person to his work. The autonomy which the task confers on the subject is the autonomy l~y which he can dominate the task. But because this autonomy is indissolubly linked with task as such, task is absolutely indispensable to human existence. We cannot change or criticize our need to work as such. And this absolute need to give ourselves to task is present in a concrete way in any given task no matter how temporary or contingent it is. In all its provisional and contingent character, the task at hand remains the source of dynamism for the human dialectic of growth. In fact, the mature development of task requires a very delicate balance between self-reflection and outward-going service, between critical detachment and dedicated engagement, between autonomy and abnegation. Today in many areas of religious life, I believe, we have upset this delicate balance. The sudden wave of self-criticism which religious life has undergone has over-weighted the subjective pole of the dialectical balance. Individuals and communities have almost locked their sights on themselves in a direct concentration on their subjective fulfillment. The surging experience of the need to criticize and modernize the communitarian tasks is failing to issue into a more intense outward dedica-tion. This need to criticize and modify tasks has resulted primarily from the advances of Christian theology in the last twenty years, advances which in a way climaxed and received great publication in the Second Vatican Council. Modern theological insights showed the great horizontal expansiveness of Christian life, the great variety of ways in which Christianity can be :lived. The former theologies. tended to picture Christian life in a rather narrow ver-tical plane which allowed variety only in terms of hier-archic positions. The various tasks of Christian life dif-fered from each other because some were more perfect than others. This gave an absolute character to de-cisions in the selection of concrete tasks. In this narrow but precise view of Christian life, the various tasks of religious orders--their ways of prayer, their apostolic works, their degree of cloister--all seemed direct deduc-tions from the gospel following necessarily from a totally unlimited acceptance of Christianity. By showing the horizontal expansiveness of Christian life, modern theology has changed this view. We can now see many ways of acting and working as Christians, each way with a dignity proper to itself, a dignity that is not simply a limited edition of that belonging to a more perfect task. Modern theology has not depreciated the basic tasks traditional to religious life; but it has rela-tivized them by presenting them in the context of other tasks, thus showing that the acceptance of a task results more from contingent decisions than from absolute de-ductions. There are pressing needs for so many tasks that no necessity binds a community or an individual to one or the other. Seeing for the first time the contingent and provisional character of their tasks, many communities and individ-uals are experiencing a real crisis of identity. The tra-ditional tasks on which they built their identity seem 4- ÷ 4. Formation and Task VOLUME 28, 1969 ]7 ÷ ÷ ÷ V. P. Branick, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]8 to have been depreciated because they have been rela-tivized. For people who tend to think always in ab-solute categories, this relativization of traditional com-munitarian tasks is anguishing. Many religiou.s have become worried about their fulfillment and autonomy through such tasks. This worry often leads to a search to reabsolutize the community tasks, finding a modern task that is the task of the Church today. Although opening new possibilities and purging re-ligious life of obsolete structures, this intense concern about personal antonomy and this criticism of all tasks at hand is impeding the turning outward toward work in self-dedication. By fixing attention on tile subject, this critical self-consciousness is obstructing the oscillation between selfhood and task and in this way is diminishing the general vitality of religious life. Houses of formation are especially susceptible to this loss of vitality becanse it is there that the dialectic be-tween religious identity and religious task must begin. Equipped with neither the subjective identity of a re-ligious congregation nor an understanding involvement in its present tasks, candidates arrive usually with simply a willingness to enter. At this moment of entrance only a vivid presentation of tasks can engender enthusiasm, a presentation of tasks which the person sees worthy of his dedication. Concentrating on such tasks a young religious will gradually develop a self-possession in the style of the congregation that will make him fully responsible for its works, that will allow him to live without thought of external pressure, that will enable him to criticize and modify his tasks. But if on entering religious life or during the years of formation, he sees in the administrators a paralyzing hesitation regarding tile most basic tasks, if his program of formation turns his attention constantly back to him-self in questions of autonomy, fulfillment, and minimali-zation of rules, the dialectic of growth can hardly begin to operate. There is certainly no facile answer to the problem of developing religious enthusiam in a time when all tasks of religious life are being revaluated. We cannot simply ignore the severe doubts that do in fact exist in the minds of administrators. But the present hesitation to present concrete tasks to religious is serionsly hampering the possibility for formation. A rehabilitation of religious task must take place on two levels. The first level is that of the Church as a whole. On this level we can recognize a permanence and uni-versality of tasks. In the life of the Church there is a permanent need for some people to pray in a way that disengages them from personal participation in the eco- nomics and politics of our world, just as there is a per-manent need for others to ~ray in a way that involves them person.ally in economic and political progress. These needs derive from the very nature of Christianity. On this universal level we can articulate a theology that shows the beauty and depth both of the traditional and. o~ the new tasks of the Church. Such 'a theology of the functions of the Church can present these tasks in such clarity that they engender enthusiasm and initiate self-dedication. The second level is that of the particular congrega-tion. On this level we must learn to understand the co,,n~tin, gent and limited nature 'of the congregation'~ en-traiace into the universal work'of the Church. From the expansive range of ecclesial tasks, each with its own theology and permanence, a" congregation must decide on specific tasks to assume. This decision is necessarily contingent on historidal and p~rs~nal ,circumstances, but this contingency need not prevent an intense adherence~ to the tasks. The decision by a congregation will be based on its continge~tt capabilities, as a result of a his-tory of insights and ~pecializatiops, but in that decision a congregation enters into theuniversal dimensions evangelization. A chosen task may not be the most cen-tial, the most perfect possible task of the Church today, but by accepting it with its limi(ations, a religious con-gregation can take its part in the whole work of the Church in all its depth and beauty. The only alternative' to this is a perfectionist idealism that paralyzes all forts. Although in the actual appropriation of a task the two levels blend together, each operates according'to its own rules. The first level is theological and universal; the second, historical and contingent. Formation to task takes place on both levels. It educates to a vivid aware-ness of the universal tasks of the Church and to an ac-ceptance of the contingent communitarian decisions by which a society shares in these tasks. By focusing attention on the fulfillment and spon-taneity of the individual, many programs of formation today run contrary to the needs of both levels. The tasks of the Church are being obscured. Relieving the anguish-ing needs of the people of the world, bringing all men to an intimate knowledge and love of Christ, worshiping God as a community~these tasks of the Church are being displaced by concern for personal development. At the same time, the emphasis on minimizing rules and foster-ing spontaneity is blurring the need to accept the con-tingent communitarian decision of a task and the struc-ture of authority that makes the communitarian decision possible. Certainly we should be pruning away obsolete Formation and Task 19 rules, rules which are no longer associated with a task. But the effort simply to minimize rules for its own sake is equivalent to the effort to minimize community tasks. For a religious dedicated to the community work, the minimization of rules is not a burning issue. The dis-tinction between what is regulated and what is optional is of secondary importance. Rules appear as means of coordinating community effort, as expressions of what the community expectsof an individual, how he can contribute to the community functions. Since contribu-tions to the community functions may vary in a contin-uous range, from indispensable activities to actions which have little relation to the community work, the categories of "regulated" and "optional" are simply in-adequate to divide the day. Endless discussions about the precise limits of regulations indicate that the ques-tion of task has not yet been resolved. Formation must begin and end with mission, a selec-tion and a confiding of tasks, an education of people to the realities of these tasks that evokes their love for the good to be accomplished through these tasks. Trying to educate people to self-direction without at the same time giving them tasks will always tend to a loss of self-giving. Educating people to love and know tasks, allowing the tasks to draw people will inevitably result in a develop-ment of responsibility and self-confidence. The dynamism of task is the only atmosphere conducive to human autonomy. ÷ ÷ V. P. Branick, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 20 JOSEPH FICHTNER, O.S.C. Religious Life in a Secularized.Age Vatican Council II, in its decree on The Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life, analyzed our renewal as a twofold process and laid down two generic principles for the pursuit of that renewal.1 The first principle takes us historically backward, the second forward. The first principle is a continuous return to the gospel of Christ as a basic norm of the religious life, and the second is an adjustment or adaptation to the physical, psychological, cultural, social, and economic conditions of our day. But at this point already one should ask the question: Is not religious life caught in a false dilemma when it at-tempts to return and renew itself at one and the same time? 2 How can it move backward and forward simul-taneously? Is it possible for religious to draw their in-spiration from the gospel as well as adjust themselves within the context of a secularized age? The decree underscores the return to the gospel ideal first of all; this is why a concerted and communal effort is to be made to catch anew the gospel inspiration as a rule of life and conduct. Yet the gospel presents reli-gious with no stereotype of their life that is always and everywhere valid and that they can turn to when-ever they find themselves in religious straits. In order to re-evangelize we have to ask questions of the Bible out of our own concrete, contemporary life, because the religious life experience of 1969 presents us with prob-lems. The problems are compounded because we have till now developed only the embryo of a new style of life which shows very indistinct features of further growth. XN. 2. "E. Schillebeeckx, "Het nieuwe mens- en Godsbeeld in conflict met her religieuze leven," Ti]dschri]t voor theologie, v. 7 (1967), pp. 1-27. I have followed to a large extent the development of ideas in this article. See also Soeur Guillemin, "Renovation de l'espHt et des structures," Vie consacrde, v. 38 (1966), pp. 360-73; she covers much of the same ground from a more practical point of view. Joseph Fichtner, O.S.C., is a faculty member of Crosier House of Studies at 2620 East Wallen Roadi Fort Wayne, Indiana 46805. VOI'UME 28, 1969 - ~oseph Fichtner, O~.C. REVIEW F.OR.RELIGIOUS We are asking questions, therefore, which the past Christian generations could not have asked since they did not live in a secularized age. The gospel cannot reply to questions not put to it; nor does it await questions from us which were already put to it by generations past.,'It is inconceivable that we should inquire .intb the Sc'riptures from the same van-tage point, say, as Sts. Jerome and Augustine had to do for .their respective communities whose members did not take vows but simply pledged themselves to persevere in their religious purpose. The medieval monks interpreted the Bible in a much different way than we can, and they tended to encapsulate the religious life into a profession of the three vows, a notion retained by canon law in its definition of the religious state.3 The former tendency was to regard the religious experience as a form more or less of flight 'from the world, of self-denial; renunciation, the exclusive service of God. We must strenuously reject the identification of the evangelical community life with the fo~ms it has taken in a given period and locale. Perhaps~- though you will have to judge this for yourselves--the change with the times and places is harder for the woman religious because of her naturally (and in other respects advantageously) conservative spirit. The past.historical ~onception of religious life hardly coincides with the demands made upon'human life by a secularized society.4 If we are to research the gospel for goals and guides to present,day religious .life, then we will have to approach it with an open mind, not with the m~ntality of our forebears, founders or foundresses, most of whom lived in a pretechni.cal, preindustrial, pre-democratic age. We may e~,en, have to rephrase our. ques-tions once. we listen to the cadences of God's word. The gospel may. echo. to us the question whether we have been tuned in to the secularization process critically, whether our life context offers any guarantee of human values. The times we live in, with their alternate possibilities of. good~, and evil, do not simply call for an unqualified adaptation. .-Hence what the decree aims atis that religious.evaluate their world in the light of the gospel. Some kind of eval-uation has already.been done for the Church at large in the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World; here the world is seen from a threefold view-point-- as created, as fallen and sinful, and as loved and redeemed.5 Religious life itself has to be reinterpreted 8 C. 487. ' ]. Bonnefoy, A.A., "Presence au monde ~an.s une vie religieuse," Vie consacr~e, v. 39 (1967), pp. 353-67. ; . ~ 8 E. Pin, $.J., "Les insfituts religieux apostoliques et le ~hang~- ment ~ocio-cultuel," Nouvelle revue thgologique, v. 87 .(1965), pp. 395-411. by means of a confrontation between the two, gospel and world. Without such a confrontation, the attempt either to re-evangelize or to adapt is empty and meaning-less; it is sold short by too much evangelization on the one hand and too much humanization on the other. The only way to arrive at a confrontation of the two is to examine human experience today in the light of the gospel and to understand the gospel from the viewpoint of contemporary human experience. Man today looks upon the natural world as the raw material out of which he can create his own world. The supremacy he feels over the things of the world is chang-ing his view of himself too as part of this world. Through his own scientific work he finds himself able to live a more human life; by humanizing the world round about himself he is discovering more human values. One of the values that he has freshly uncovered and that have prompted him to make the world more hu-manly livable is his freedom. Freely and creatively he would carve out of the world a home where the human community can exist in justice and love. He is filled with an indomitable desire to build a better world where men can live together in the solidarity of justice and love. But the humanization of the world by means of science and technology has also created, by way of a byproduct, the danger for man to render this world uninhabitable. The Great Society has been so organized by man that it has well nigh done away with other human opportunities such as the contemplative side of life offers him. He is forced almost to flee from the world in order to have the time and place for that contemplation which does not only regard the things of God but respects the dignity otr his fellowmen. Man risks the danger of treating his fellowmen as things and of overpowering them, of using and abusing them as he would the things of nature. If he loses his respect for his fellowman, he is liable to manip-ulate him, exploit him, and usurp his rights to human achievement.6 Of all the human qualities young people wish for themselves and expect of others the most out-standing are personal right, authenticity, trust, under-standing, loyalty, and honesty. They reject any and every sort of depersonalization. Man can so dominate the world socially, economically, and politically, that he runs roughshod over his fellowman. So the same scientific and technological progress can be both a boon and a threat to a more human existence, depending upon the use to which man puts it for his fellowman. The whoIe secuIarization process that has fallen into human hands has affected man's stance toward religion, 6S6eur Marie-Edmond, "Qu'attendent les jeunes filles de la vie rcligicuse communautairc?" Vie consacrde, v. 39 (1967), pp. 40-50. + Religious LiIe, Secularized Age VOLUME 28, 1969 23 ÷ ÷ Joseph Fichtn~r, 0~.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS though primarily it is a social event that of itself need not lead to any irreligiosity. It does, however, set man upon the pinnacle of the temple of this world; it puts him into a relationship with the world which he never yet experienced. This change of relationship and his own understanding of it is bound to alter his view of God. While formerly the Church was the means of bringing his attention to God as He operated in nature, history, and society, now that man has asserted his creative power over the world, he has at the same time contrib-uted to its desacralization. God would seem to be left out; man comes to the fore. As a result the conclusion we can easily reach is that secularization and desacralization are pagan, heathen, or anti-religious. But the fact of the matter is that this proc-ess has both Christian and non-Christian elements and hence cannot be accept.ed unqualifiedly or uncritically. If anything shakes the younger generation, it is their fear for the destiny of a world so insecure in its secular struc-tures. To give the secularized world its due, we must ac-knowledge it with faith as God's creation to which he gave an autonomy and secularity. Our belief in His act of creation implies that the world be left wholly other than God---creaturely, human, worldly. 0nly if we recog-nize the world for what it is can we catch some insight into who God is, as Someone unworldly, transcendent, uncreated. The more we tend to sacralize the world, the less transcendence do we attribute to God and the less likely are we to worship Him alone. Acceptance of the world and everything worldly from a divine point of view means setting the world free for man; to secularize it is to allow it freedom, a created autonomy. In a sense, then, the secularization process follows from Christianity itself as a consequence of its refusal to commingle, confuse, or fuse God with the world. Chris-tianity has no intention of divinizing or Christianizing or baptizing the world from within, but rather of keeping the world humanized through the retention of its essen-tially human values. Christian secularity is precisely this, that Christians in a spirit of faith discern the dif-ference between the concrete Christian and the pagan elements which make up the world and allow it to be itself. Grace makes it possible for Christians to prepare for Christianization, that is, to secularize and humanize the world by means of a faith outlook. The Gospel does not sterilize the heart of man, emptying it of an appre-ciation of all earthly and human values; rather it opens to him the same full human perspective which Christ had in assuming and recapitulating humanity. Sin alone dims or eclipses the possibility of that perspective. This is the kind of world, its history and culture, in which we must situate the religious life, and this is the same world in which we can ask the appropriate ques-tions of the gospel for the inspiration of the religious life experience. A false understanding of the world will in-evitably lead to a series of false questions. It will incline the religious to view nature, the world, man, negatively, and argue for a flight from the world. The old concept of God.has undergone a change along with the old concept of the world. But the death-of-God theology has evidently failed to come up with a new con-cept of God. In the. past Christianity was always con-vinced that God is inaccessible and ineffable. Faced with the radical inability to express themselves about God or present him to their fellow Christians, theologians and mystics resorted to an apophatic or negative theol-ogy. They admitted to knowing less about who God is not than about who He is. Oftentimes God was popularly conceived as one who intervened in the world; such repre-sentations of Him in the ordinary theological manuals reflected the social and cultural milieu. The experience of faith in God was colored by the social and cultural context necessarily, but 'this did not render it less authen-tic than the experience of faith in our own cultural situation. 'If our era is less sure of and less concrete in its con-cepts of God, it is because we have turned God into a big question mark and into a popular conversation piece. Perhaps there has been more conversation about Him since his "death" than there ever was while He was still considered "alive." We would like to unmask all the former illusions about God and do away with all the pseudo-gods of the past, but in getting rid of all such idols we have not clarified or facilitated the making of God in our own image. By raising the problem of God in our own day, we are likely to forget our own human condition which threatens to falsify the truth about God. In searching for Him we run the risk of creating other idols .than those we just finished demolishing. One of our approaches to God which hides some of His reality for us and which we may be guilty of in the religious life is to think that we can dedicate our-selves to him directly and exclusively. This approach may be devoid of any real, concrete content, a sort of chase into empty space, a flight after some utopian ideal. The only way remaining for us to express ourselves about Him has to derive from our experience within this world and within this era of salvation history. God speaks to us through men, their world and history; this is the hearing aid by which we can listen to His voice. There r.eally is no opposition between God's word in Holy 4- Religious Lile, Secularized Age VOLUME 28, 1969 ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph Fi~htner, O$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Scripture and the authentic religious life experience of today, for the Scriptures provide us the norm whereby we can be faithful listeners to His word as it appeals to us in today's life experience. The latter feeds our under-standing of God, concretizes it, and gives content to our belief in God. To overlook this fact is to retrace our steps to the days when Christians felt it their duty to separate or alienate themselves from the world. We have no criticism to offer of their religious posture, be-cause it had meaning for them, but it leaves us without a real living God. Today we have the idea that to try to approach God directly and exclusively, without any worldly and human medium, is an unchristian illusion. We are inclined, if not theoretically then practically,, to distinguish between a Christian and a pagan secularity. We believe we come in contact with the living God in and through and with our fellowmen. This does not mean that as Christians we do not respond to God immediately and personally, but that our relationship with Him is real and concrete be-cause mediated through worldly and human realities. Christ experienced the immediacy of God's presence in Himself, in and through His humanity. He willed to be-come God in human form. In like manner we encounter God in the immediacy and mediacy of that image and likeness of Him which is man. What is immediate and what is mediate are not mutually exclusive but are linked together in our relationship to God. Against this modern background the religious life must examine the Scriptures to seek the solutions for the problems facing it. Sacred Scripture contains a number of evangelical counsels that simply are irreducible to the three classic vows the medieval monks or nuns pronounced. In fact, the gospel refers to only one counsel,7 one which was not expressly imposed or urged upon the early Christians.s It teaches that the perfection of love is attainable by all Christians, whatever their state of life, without their having to keep the counsel of celibacy.'° All Christians are called to an observance of the commandments and the other evangelical counsels in order to attain the per-fection of love. The one counsel alone is left to the free choice of every Christian and is the evangelical source from which the religious life has grown. Essen-tially, therefore, the religious life is a freely willed Chris-tian celibate life. This life is lived mostly in a community because few people freely will to live it in solitude.~0 7 Mt 19:10-2. s 1 Cor 7:25. ~ 1 Cor 13. ao Soeur Marie-Edmond, "Qu-attendcnt les jeunes filles?" The personal choice of this style of life is motivated by the gospel and makes sense fo~ alifetime only in virtue of the same~ The force of this motive is borne upon those young people who because of the instability and.change-ability of our age fear giving themselves to any style of life demanding continuity and stability. One who is will-ing to spend his entire life ~s a Christian celibate does.so because he is sensitive to the grace of 'God .cifll'ing. him in thegospel. He feels himself responsible to" God-who so strongly affects him that He becomes the source"of his religious life. But ~he particular form or structure of the religious life inspired by the gospel is ~as such a human project and a human construct. The whole human side of this life has developed in the course of history and is bound up with its vicissitudes. It,has t6 face the challenge of changing customs and cultures in older to survive arid renew itself. .We misunderstand the gospel message if.we base bur choice of a celibate life on a gupernatural motive alon~, as if we conceive the delibate life as a ctfoice between the natural good of marriage and .the supernatural good.of celibacy.11 Dedication of a celibat~ life to God has both immediate and mediate aspects about it, just a~ marriage itself. A couple united in Christian man'iage have an immediate duty toward God though they may mediate their love for Him through each other and thdy mayex-periefice tension and conflict in a way similar to what religious feel when they try to mediate their love for God through the world' and their fellowmen. The reli-gious life therefore has no immediate relationship to God without a worldly and human mediacy. Sometimes the immediacy of the religious life is more apparent, .'for instance, when religious live and work in community~ pray, celebrate the liturgy; at other times, in the apos-tolate, the mediacy of such a life comes into starker relief. Christian ~elibacy has also a human meaning, a natural value aside from its supernatural value, for otherwise, no matter how religiously or supernaturall~? motivated it is, it will somehow be left hanging in the air. Essen-tially it does not consist in a.chgice between God and 'a life partner; rather it is a positive choice of aw~y k)f life having natural and human meaning for those who have the iniier ability to embrace, it. Their choice, when you analyze it thoroughly, does not come down to one be-tween God and creature or between God and the world of man, but it is one which springs from the wholenes~ of his being. Celibacy of its nature permits the celibate to concen- ~ Schillebeeckx, "Het nieuwe mens- en Godsbeeld," p. 12. 4- +- +. Religious Ei~e, - Seculhri~ed Age VOL'U~E 2~, 4" 4" 4" Joseph FichOtn.Se.rC, . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS trate upon a certain life value and to dedicate to it his entire life. He freely accepts celibacy because he is con-vinced this is the only way, special as it may be, for him to be totally expendable. The value he has discovered within himself so fascinates him that he is willing to remain unmarried to achieve it; he places himself at its service; he considers it a part of an authentic life. Christian celibacy, moreover, adds to the natural value a religious, charismatic value, especially if men and women would concentrate their whole life upon its value because they would be witnesses to the world of their conviction. Within the Church their witness to the value of celibacy is a more easily and understood sign. It is seen to be a means some men and women take for the sake of the kingdom of God. Religious give to the world an irreplaceable witness of a supratemporal element alive and at work in it. In a sense they transcend history, manifesting a supernatural value and significance--point-ers to a life beyond the present. The better they can serve mankind in this way of life, the better they are able to serve the God who founded His kingdom among men. Religious men and women will show to the world the. authenticity of their life only if they commit them-selves totally to it, convinced that their expendability makes their style of life worthwhile. Others may sacrifice marriage for the sake of a tem-poral career--scientific, social, political, cultural; but Christian celibacy on the contrary entails sacrifice for the sake of a religious value. In both instances there is a sacrifice of a human value, but in the latter a trans-cendence of the religious self becomes evident. The sacrifice points to a transcendence--men and women are willing to give up marriage not for some secular good but because they want to give evidence of the religious dimension of life.x2 The religious sign value of celibacy too easily fades out or is lost among those who engage solely in a secular career, good and beneficial to society as it may be. More than ever in the past religious must be a sign of the transcendence of God in the midst of a secularized world, even when at times this sign may appear to be nothing else than a protest against a world gone pagan. They give eschatological witness of a life that overcomes the temporality of this worldAa Christian celibacy has essentially a close affinity to the other evangelical counsels, poverty and obedience, in that they too contain positive human and religious values. Heretofore the general tendency has been to re-gard the counsels or vows too negatively and isolatedly. = Karl Rahner, "Reflections on the Theology of Renunciation," Theological Investigations, v. 3, pp. 47-57. 18 Lk 20:34-7. When a problem arises, we are prone to isolate it and to forget it may have far-reaching and entangled roots (the race problem provides a good example in those who advocate job opportunity for a cure-all). Perhaps we lose sight of that unity of purpose which brings all counsels together--the following of Christ in His kenotic life; and especially the unity of the person living a trinity of counsels. Like Christian celibacy, poverty and obedience are questionable because in our time and culture they seem to lack any positive value. Today's trend is to stress the need of getting rid of poverty and of accentuating free-dom, and thus to outdate them. The question then arises how are we religious to retain the positive, human values of the two at a time when they are considered caricatures or illusions of reality. For example, how are we to evaluate poverty in a society characterized by mass production, mass consumption, white-collar work, a so-ciety preferring to poverty a prosperity that promotes health, welfare, and education programs, and leisure? Religious poverty makes sense only if it is in keeping with the real poverty existing among peoples today. Its inherent demand is that we live on a similar basis with the poor and at the same time, precisely because we have pledged ourselves to be poor, join in the effort to better the lot of the poor. Religious poverty must square with the economical situation of society and must take into account the level or standard of living. Young reli-gious are filled with a sense of sha~'ing rather than econ-omizing (as formerly) material, intellectual, and cultural goods--a spirit more current with the times. A balance has to be struck between the means and the end of the religious institute which, in any case, will require a special moderation in food, clothing, recreation, and a determination to earn a communal living by hard work. In addition, various kinds of social work performed by religious may lend themselves to social progress. Religious community life can no longer model its authority upon the medieval feudal system. Religious authority that appeals for obedience in the name of God's will is old-fashioned; it dates back to that old era of the divine right of kings. It leads to a confused idea that superiors must reign and their opinion must prevail under the pretext of deriving their authority from God. On the other hand, wherever like-minded people are ¯ gathered into a community, however much they may be motivated by love, they will still have to hold to the inte-grating factors of authority and obedience. Faithful re-ligious do oblige themselves to observe the will of God. Such a spirit of obedience is all the more sensible when Religious Li]e, Secularized Age VOLUME 28, 1969 ~9 ÷ ,÷ ÷ Joseph FicOht~n.Cer., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ¯30 it believes God speaks His will not only through the superior but within a life situation, within a community living together with love, friendship, dialogue, for the common good, and from within one's Own conscience. This type of obedience is not a blind following of the .superior's will rather arbitrarily determined or unex-plained, nor the keeping of meaningless, minute, mean commands, a routinized life without any commands at all, a perfunctory performance of duty without any pro-fessional competence, but an open-eyed observance of God's will as it is made known within an entire life situa-tion. The American practice of obedience functions best in an equalitarian atmosphere; Americans will not tol-erate supremacists in their midst; they are. used to bu-reaucratic (in the good sense of the word), consultative government. The religious life then consists not first and foremost in a negation, the exclusion of positive human and religious values, but in a special Christian, meaningful way of life. This life does entail the sacrifice of such values as wealth, marriage, independence which most Christians freely choose and cordially treasure. By the mere mention of the words "sacrifice" or "renunciation, we are likely to turn off people who think such practices .dwarf the human personality or stifle its spirit.14 Renun-ciations, however, are emphatically no evasion or escape f.r.om the world. The paradoxical fact about them is that they detach us to some degree from the world so as to allow fuller involvement in other ways.15 Religious do not directly choose to sacrifice earthly and human values, but they do choose a Christian way of life full of other and superior values accepted in a spirit of faith, hope, and love. Tertullian once re-marked: "Every choice implies a rejection." ~0 In choos-ing a kenotic way of lift Christ did not sacrifice human values m~rely for the sake of supernatural values; His prefere, nce was for a way of life out of various, meaning-ful messianic possibilities. Among other things His was a predilection for a celibate life because it left him free to establish the kingdom of His Father.17 Religious likewise are inclined toward a style of life which does not drive them from the world but enables them to orient their life, energy, and competence toward the world's future. Theirwhole thrust is to take the world with them to God, and this is the reason for their willingness to accept sacrifice or renunciation along with that a4 Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, n. 41; Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, n. 46. ~ K. Rahner, "Reflections." 16 Apology, 13, 2. ~"~ Lk 9:23. faithful and unconditional service they would give to God and their fellowmen. The loving service they offer concretizes that self-emptying which contradicts an egotistic spirit. The love they dedicate to God and to the world of men expressly calls for self-criticism, sacrifice, and self-emptying. If there is any emerging feature of the new-style religious life it is the conviction of its' mem-bers that they have to be present in and open to the world. The fact that the religious life is a matter of lifelong choice makes it difficult for people of our times to recog-nize its value and meaning. They are quite well con-vinced, and rightly so, that man is so built as to be un-able to appreciate the unknown dimensions of a human act binding him for a lifetime. Human psychology is so complex that for one to make such a binding decision wonld oftentimes be irresponsible, lighthearted, an act tmcharacteristic of the human will. This attitude is exemplified not only in the modern outlook upon the religious life but upon marriage too. Can man morally commit himself to an obligation that, humanly speak-ing, seems to be contradictory to his very nature? No matter how free and knowledgeable his act may be today, he cannot foresee tomorrow--he may react differently to his choice once he is put into hard circumstances where he is likely to experience his failings. To validate and give meaning to his decision, his only alternative is to entrust himself to Christian hope. That this modern mentality has a glint of truth about it, there can be no doubt. But there are values which for the moment we cannot, certainly not [ully, appreciate or approve, which nonetheless surpass the momentary situation and are imperative for the integrity of man. They have an enduring value; they hold good in any and every situation (with some exceptions) which man has to abide by if he is to be true to his own nature. In the matter of the counsels and their public pro-fession, the vows, we are dealing with a choice that in the first place is not ethically binding, it is not necessary, it is not a matter of commandment. So why should anyone be obligated to keep his choice for a lifetime if he has freely willed it in the first place? Man has an intrinsic right to freely change his mind, to decide tomorrow against his decision today. But this human vacillation is obviously giving the world much trouble. The value of following the counsels for a lifetime lies not in a freedom of choice alone but in the free and faithful acceptance of a way of life. It evidences how a religious finds it pos-sible and meaningful to dedicate himself for life despite his failings and mistakes; he accepts a lifetime of service. Fidelity too, and not only freedom, is a basic human + Religious Lile Secularized VOLUME 28, 1969 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS quality, .substantiated by both the nature of man and his history. The will-to-fidelity must have meaning therefore; it is not a mere will-o'-the-wisp; it is the expression of the human self once and for always. Despite the fact that man can point to the vicissitudes of history and to the uncertainty of the future, that he can personally leave himself open to various possibilities for the sake of ex-periment, to see how he reacts to them in the process of maturing, still his human limitations tell him that he cannot experiment or vacillate in his decisions forever. His human limitations force him to make that decision to which he can devote the totality of his life. This is what psychologists have called the "fundamental op-tion," which has its correlative reality in a fidelity to grace and is motivated by a single love, the following of Christ. The fidelity, and integrity of a life of the counsels springs from our efforts, gradual and constant, to per-sonalize them, unify them, liberate ourselves thereby from the selfish impulses which may dominate our lives. Fidelity and integrity are ours to the extent that the counsels permeate us; taken together they add up to a complete style of life. I dare say one reason for religious discontent stems from the failure to bring the three counsels within the focus of the one fundamental option. The saying, "Divide and conquer," applies here: the more divided and disrupted a life, the greater the loss of personal energy and the less resistance to difficulties.18 To be a full man is to be faithful to the true self. It is by totally giving that each of us becomes totally him-self. The full Christian is one who gives a faithful re-sponse to that divine fidelity which never fails him unless he proves faithless to himself. The basic human reason for the inviolability of the religious life is the fundamental option, and not the pub-lic vow from which the religious can be dispensed. The religious who opts for the celibate life is a living em-bodiment of the counsels, particularly celibacy; they do not exist in the abstract or in vows or in constitutions. In making a lifelong choice man wants to be true to himself and thus to bind himself in the service of a basic value. This value is an enrichment to both the religious him-self and to his community. The value, as it were, me-diates between the person and the community, recip-rocally helping the person to serve the community and the community to respect and draw benefit from the per-son by warding off some risks of instability. In its wider scope, the value of a religious community extends to the unlimited horizons of the Church and society. When See Summa theologiae, 2-2, q.44, a.4, ad 3. a person publicly announces his fundamental option to live a celibate life in a religious community, he makes an appeal to the community to help him be a full man and a full Christian. He is helped negatively when the com-munity does not interfere with or hinder the realization of his fundamental option--the development of his personality under grace; he is helped positively when the community has a concern and care for his life ful-fillment. The binding force of a vow is derived immediately from the option one makes of God but mediately from the religious community and the Church in which the religious pronounces his vow. The religious .vow has a quality of reciprocity between the religious himself and the community of his profession. Between the two there exists a sort of two-way street of right and responsibility. In our sociotechnic world there still is much need of the other-directed spirit, of teamwork and a measure of con-formity and mutual respect to obtain the same goals. The religious cannot oblige the community onesidedly, nor can the community willfully or lightly discharge its duty toward the religious. Just as the religious can prove unfaithful to his community, so can the community fail the religious particularly if it does not renew or up-date itself. The human and Christian quintessence of the reli-gious life consists of a special concentration upon a lifelong value by means of a freely willed Christian celibacy. Whatever is added to this quintessence is of human creation and consequently is historically con-ditioned. The evangelical inspiration is subsumed into a variety of concrete forms and structures and institu-tionalisations, all of which are bound up with historical experiences and cultural patterns. None of them has eter-nal value, not even the form(s) the founder or foundress gave to the gospel message. Whenever the evangelical inspiration is found wrapped in a new life experience, its particular value can be questioned and criticized by the psychologist, sociologist, economist, hygienist, anthro-pologist, and others interested in the practical life of man. They compel us to rethink the religious life as it is time-honored and -bound in our constitutions. It is a fatal mistake to identify the latter with the gospel in-spiration. The Council fathers of Vatican II were not unmindful of the fact that religious institutes periodically revise their constitutions in order to adapt themselves to time and place. Surely in calling for a radical overhauling of the religious life they were thinking of the social and cultural revolution we are passing through, when slight and detailed changes and modifications are not enough. + + + Religious Li~e, Secularized Age VOLUME 28, 1969 33 + ÷ Joseph Fichtner, 0.$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS There is much room for consolidating, deepening, and trimming. The crisis we face is deeper and graver than we know; it is clearly evidenced by the revolutionized concept of man and God in our secularized age. If the religious institute as we know it is to survive, we must make a heroic effort to restructure and revitalize it. It does not need a heart transplant, but it will need a series of blood transfusions. Needless to say, the religious institute that cannot or will not adapt will sing its own requiem. The gospel inspiration of the religious life offers no guarantee that the various traditional forms or structures have to endure forever. A religious institute may well have served its purpose and should go out of existence or coalesce with a more viable group. The life experience today is so new, so revolutionalized, so secularized, that in a sense all re-ligious institutes can be considered old which do not reinterpret the gospel in the light of the new life situa-tion. We have to bear a crisis so severe that only a radical restructuring of the religions institute will tide it over: This restructuring has to be more than an offscouring of antiquated practices, making our life easier or more sociable. It has to arise from a thorough re-evangelisation which asks questions of itself and of life as religious live it in a secularized society. Nobody can accomplish this tremendous task but the community itself, and especially its young members who are not baffled by the new life experience becat~se they have been born and raised in it. But one can hardly insist enough upon the duty of the entire community, young and old members, to enter into the restructuring phase. This is not a task divided between the young members pushing ahead with a crea-tive spirit and the old upholding the canons of ortho-doxy. Both have to be patient and indulgent. Nor is it a summoning of an endless series of meetings and discus-sions where members reflect upon their life, haggle back and forth over community life, the apostolate, the struc-tnre of authority, and what have you, yet in the mean-while make no effort at experimentation with new forms and are fearful of groping toward a reincarnation of the religious life. Who does not feel stymied by an inconsist-ency between thought and action, plan and life? Given plenty of room for experimentation, for pilot projects, not necessarily in every monastery or convent but here and there where local needs require it and the proper authorities are willing to assume the ultimate responsi-bility, where everybody enters enthusiastically and not merely tolerantly into the experimentations, thus mani-festing their loyalty to the institute, the religious life will blossom out anew, perhaps in an unsuspected way-- at least under the mysterious, unforeseeable guidance of the Holy Spirit. ANDRI~E EMERY Experiment in Counseling Religious When* I began working at the Hacker Psychiatric Clinic in 1961---on the staff of which I am the only Catholic, unless I count one doctor, who although baptized Catholic does not consider himself a member of the Church--the general opinion of the staff would have paralleled the oft-quoted but not sufficiently validated statement that many more religious than lay persons were mentally ill. At that time they thought, I guess, that most if not all religious must be at least a little crazy.~ In the past seven years the climate of opinion in our clinic has changed, not as a result of apologetic dialogu-ing but through every day, pragmatic experience. Today, if one were to ask our staff for an opinion, they would probably say that the problems of religious were rather similar to those of lay people but that on the whole the religious seemed to be more insightful, more intelligent, and more motivated toward resolving their problems. O£ course, except for the very ill, who constituted merely a fraction of our religious clientele, intelligence and moti-vation could be presupposed; otherwise they would not have asked for psychiatric help. The Hacker Clinic is not a subsidized agency but a private clinic with some 20 professionals on the staff, most of them psychiatrists (M.D.'s). Because of its private character, patients who seek help there are mostly middle-class, financially independent or well insured, and thus comparable to the well-educated and, sup-posedly, well-socialized religious. In the past three and one half years 156 religious--73 men and 83 women-- and 6 diocesan priests were seen in our clinic. I, personally, spent more than 3500 hours interviewing these men and women. Since each person * This is the text of a talk given on August 8, 1968, at the Ameri-can Canon Law Society's Workshop on Renewal at Notre Dame, Indiana. 4- Andr~e Emery, area director of the Society of Our Lady of the Way, is a sociologist and clinical counselor residing at 127 South Arden Boule-vard; Los Angeles, California 90004. VOLUME 28, 1969 ÷ ÷ admitted to our clinic undergoes a full evaluation, which includes testing and psychiatric consultation and in-volves interviews with at least three different profession-als, and since some religious were seen in therapy not by me but by other members of our staff, the total hours spent by our clinic with religious and priests could easily be three or four times this number. I did not include in my 3500 hours time spent in workshops, conferences, seminars, personal interviews during educational ven-tures, nor time spent evaluating aspirants before they were accepted into a community. Thus the 3500 hours, and some, were devoted entirely to direct clinical inter-views, either for evaluation or for therapy. The 156 religious seen in the past three and one half years--118 of whom were finally professed--represent 34 communities. Of the finally professed 66 were religious sisters, 5 were religious priests, 31 were major seminar-ians, 14 were teaching brothers, and two were members of a secular institute of men. One religious priest was on leave of absence, one woman religious was exclaustrated, and three were dispensed from perpetual vows shortly before coming to the clinic. Of the remaining 38 religi-ous, 21 had temporary vows--5 men and 16 women-- and 17 were novices, of whom 14 were men. Only about 10 per cent of these patients were diag-nosed psychotic and approximately another 10 per cent as severely neurotic. The majority merely had problems, probably not very different from those who did not seek our help. The median age of all religious men and women and diocesan priests whom we saw was 28 years. The median age of the men was somewhat lower than this figure, be-cause of the relatively large number of seminarians and novices among them, and that of the women was some-what higher. Only 19 per cent of the women and 8 per cent of the men were over 40 years of age. The services rendered by the clinic varied. 78, fewer than half of the total, were simply evaluated by us. Of these we recommended therapy or counseling for 37, but to our knowledge only in ten instances was our recom-mendation followed. The other 27 did not receive the recommended help. At present, there are 10 men and 10 women religious in therapy in our clinic, 7 of them for less than a year, 13 for more than a year, and there were 64 others in therapy who are no longer coming. 22 hospital patients were visited daily; the majority who were outpatients were seen once or twice a week, and a few follow-up cases were seen once a month. All were seen in individual therapy, but 15 were also in group therapy. Priests and brothers attended group sessions with lay men, the sisters had their own group. 86, or more than half of all the religious and priests seen by us in the past three and one half years, told us that they wished to leave the religious or priestly life. Had we had longer contact with those whom we have merely evaluated, the number might have been even larger. We did not ask them directly about this and not all volunteered unasked-for information in the first in-terview. Exactly half of those who mentioned leaving did leave, most of them shortly after evaluation and without hav-ing been given an opportunity for further counseling-- or perhaps not desiring it. Ten who were in therapy in our clinic left their communities after therapy was in-terrupted against their wishes or against our recommen-dation. Of the 74 whose therapy with us was not interrupted, only four left--three during therapy and one after mu-tually agreed termination of therapy. These figures speak for themselves: problems can and should be solved rather than run from. After listening carefully to a relatively large number of religious men and women, I asked myself the ques-tion: Are their problems similar or different from those that weigh down our other patients? We cannot separate our personal growth and our in-dividual crises from the historical development and con-temporary crises of the group with which we are identi-fied. There is no human being who is free from the influence of the society into which he was born and in which he has been raised. While we sift perceptions and experiences through our personal physical and psycho-logical apparatus that is very particularly our own and give them special emphasis and slant, our apperceptions, our symbols, our values, our conflicts, our likes and dis-likes, the very traits that we think of as most personal, most expressive of our individuality, are suprapersonal. They are consensual with the culture in which we are rooted; at least they must be such if we are to be con-sidered "normal" and not "odd" by our contemporaries. This was brought home to us rather early in our ex-perience with religious patients. At that time some of our non-Catholic staff still expected to find intolerable conditions triggering if not causing the acute problems of religious. (Off the record, I have seen conditions in religious houses of men which I, or most any woman, religious or lay, could not have tolerated, and I am sure that some men, in turn, would feel the same way about our houses.) But to come back to the clinic: Not more than half a dozen of our religious patients described without corn-÷ ÷ ÷ Counseling Religious VOLUME 28, 1969 37 4. Andr~e Emery REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 38 plaint, external circumstances in their convents that seemed intolerable to us. The remarkable thing was that. the communities from which they came were all foreign in their origin and rule and also in their membership. The conditions described would have seemed intolerable to most American religious, too; yet the religious who lived under these conditions, including our foreign-born patients, did not find it particularly intolerable. And so we had to face the fact that our judgment of what was tolerable or intolerable was made from' the point of view of national culture, which was the same for American doctors as for American religious from active congrega-tions. Taking this basic dependency on the culture group for granted, we cannot be astonished that many of the basic problems of religious men and women in the United States do not seem to differ greatly from those of other American men and women. The growth of Western civilization, together with its stratification and specialization, has created models of shifting, sectional, and contradictory prototypes, from Ronald Reagan to Martin Luther King Go Malcolm X. Ours is a mobile society, multi-valued, materialistic, outer directed, as the sociologist would say, easily brain-washed by mass media, advertisements, fads, and. ffish-ions. It is peer-group oriented rather than hierarchical and, at present, is plagued by rebellions, which while not necessarily more violent than those of the past are cer-tainly more ubiquitous. Change and not stability is the epitome of this kind of society even in human relationships, as the steadily in-creasing divorce rate dramatically shows. That time, and thus change, is a human dimension was already recog-nized by Heraclitus 2500 years ago. But the rate of change is not constant; some structures change slower than others; and there are periods when the same entity, be it matter, living being, or human society, slows down or accelerates. The period in human life when change is most evident is adolescence. Yet Erikson, who is perhaps the best known psychologist of this country, calls this period "moratorium"--delay of adulthood, which the young person needs to integrate earlier childhood experiences and to learn to conform to the larger society which will soon replace his immediate family environment. In our Western world--and, particularly in the United States which is considered the apex of it--this morato-rium on adulthood has become extended far beyond the period of physical and sexual maturation and," thus, adolescent problems he.avily "interlace and aggravate the problems that young adults, as a matter of course, must face. It is not that our young who marry or enter religion are much younger in age than were those in former generations, but their readiness to assume adult respon-sibilities, particularly continuing responsibilities, seems to be less. Young and not-so-young religious who were born and nurtured in our culture are no less exempt from this extended moratorium and its consequences than are their married counterparts. Is it really--as we often hear---~the hierarchical struc-ture of religious communities that keeps religious im-mature? More immature than their lay counterparts? We did not find religious more immature or more frequently immature. But, obviously, those who did not wish to assume responsibility, for whatever reason, had a better excuse, a ready-made rationalization. Still, the child wife, the happy-go-lucky husband are not rarities either. The impulsive adolescent who marries or enters religion, having "fallen in love," will back out quickly, and this will be less traumatic for the religious than for the married. But those who cling to the idealized image con-structed by their immature motivations and resist facing reality---even a reality not inferior to their fantasy, just different--will experience severe crises, in marriage or religious life alike--one, two, five, ten years after their initial commitment. The fantasy wears away bit by bit, leaving them numb, empty, and somehow feeling cheated. I was told with great feeling by a 25-year-old mother of four that she had just discovered that she was not a teen-ager any more but "mommy" and that she did not like it a bit. As a matter of fact, she did not know whether she liked children at all. And I had to listen to a very angry, very depressed young superior of 28, who "just wanted to do a good job," but whose ambition was thwarted by the non-cooperation of several sisters, in-cluding one severely mentally ill, and who found that she could not maintain the unruffled, cooly kind exterior that earned her the early appointment to office. The pedestal broke, both under the community where "such things could happen" and under her who could not live up to the fantasy ideal. But to go a step further: Not only does our culture extend the moratorium on adulthood, it openly vaunts that adulthood is not worth aiming for. We have a cult of youth--the historical development of which, though relevant, cannot be presented here. Youth has ceased to be regarded as a transition period in which adult living is learned, in which adult identities are crystalized. It has become an aim, an identity, a subculture, emulated in some ways by the broadest segments of society. Who wants to be an adult today? (And who wants to be a + + ÷ Counseling Religious VOLUME 28, 1969 39 A~dr~e JEnt~ry REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS religious superior?) The model wears a miniskirt not only on her hips but in her (or his) head. At the same time, in strange contradiction but with unavoidable logic, we have put terrible responsibilities and burdens on young shoulders, probably more so than did any former generation. One of the main characteris-tics that differentiate human from animal life is time binding: the ability to transmit experience from one-generation to another. To demand from young people that they learn all the answers "on the go," pragmati-cally, by experimentation, to pretend that in the few years of their lives they could and should discover or duplicate the accumulated experience of mankind is sheer hypocrisy, or what is worse, delusion. The im-mature cannot become mature in human society with-out guidance. To quote Erikson: "By abdicating, by abrogating responsibility, the older generation deprives the young from forceful ideals which must exist for their sake--if only so that they can be rebelled against." Ra-tionalizing our inconsistencies and vacillations, our cow-ardice and lack of principles, with the excuse that it frees them from dependency does not help the young to grow. Is the peer society of the street gang superior to the authoritarian family still found in urban minority groups and in farming areas? If we elected (or, God forbid, appointed) only religious under 35 years of age into all offices, would that really guarantee a better gov-ernment than when we acted according to a different cultural pattern and gave the offices only to the old and supposedly "wise"? Are the younger more tolerant, do they show more empathy, more Christian virtue than the old? Or the other way around? No. The generation gap is legitimate only as an ado-lescent phenomenon--as a pause (though a very active pause) in which the young person has left childhood behind and has not yet reached adulthood. Otherwise the gap is mostly semantic: personalities clashing because they do not use the same symbols, same words, for the same concepts. Interestingly, now it is the old who are expected to learn the jargon of the young and not the other way round. I still smile when I remember a recent conference attended by some 200 people where no one was less than twice 16, and most three times that age and more, and where we had to sing Ray Repp songs during Mass--which in my opinion are both poor music and poor theology--just to show that we were "with it." To this point I have spoken only of a basic social fact--I don't like to call it problem--that affects both lay people and religious in our culture and which is at the root of many symptoms that we encounter in the clinic. There is an important facet of the present confusion that (oncerns religious and priests in particular. At a recent discussion in our clinic I was asked whether I could specify the ideal, the model of a religious--his own concept of his role or identity. I had to admit that had I been asked this question ten years ago, or even five, I would have thought it answerable--but not now. Incidentally, I have asked this same question of several major superiors and received just as vague a reply. It becomes more and more clear that the theology of religi-ous life still needs to be written. Up to the time Pope John opened the windows of the Vatican, we have had--and to some extent we still have--a subculture of religious institutes, distinct though related to othe~ subcultures of the Catholic Church. In the United States the religious subculture was colored by Irish-French, or rather 'French-Irish Ca-tholicism. This religious subculture, this cultural island, was well defined, stable, hierarchical, in contrast to the mobile, multi-valued, peer-oriented culture that sur-rounded it. It had not only a particular philosophy but also its own symbolism and language--understood only by the initiated but understood by all of them much in the same way. Because of its confidence-inspiring stability and the idealism of its teachings, it greatly appealed to many: to the searching, to the young who wanted to cut the apron strings but still needed support, to those who needed status, or those who wished to leave behind materialism, competition, and self-seeking. In a sense it was all to all: it provided security and challenge, asceticism and freedom from cares, opportunity for self-development and oppor-tunity for self-sacrifice. Or so it seemed. As we have been a nation on wheels for some time, not only the present generation of religious but at least two previous ones had to do quite a bit of adjusting to this distinctly delineated structure when they left their families of origin. Perhaps the children of foreign-born parents found it easier to adjust--perhaps not. It de-pended on how much they introjected or, conversely, rejected the values of their primary group. But whether first, second, or fourth generation of Americans, all who entered attempted to adjust to religious life as they found it. I said, attempted to adjust, because our early up-bringing cannot be completely eradicated and conflict patterns will persist. Many of our seriously ill patients were older men and women: some chronically ill with symptoms of chronic frustration in attempted adjust-ment; some acutely ill, with primary processes breaking through the surface of more or less successful controls exercised for years. Adjustment to the religious life, however, has not been 4- Counseling Religious VOLUME 28, 1969 4] ÷ ÷ ÷ A~tdr~e Emery REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS entirely a one-way street. Needs and values which the individual member brought from his primary culture had also an effect on the religious institutes. These slowly changed, became more American in character, sought some kind of equilibrium with the broader society around them. Still, on the whole, they remained distinctive. Thus, the young person who entered might have found it more or less ego syntonic, more or less cor-responding to his personality and early upbringing, but rarely found it completely so. The religious way of life always demanded sacrifice, self-denial, rejection of some earlier values. At the same time it offered sufficient re-wards to enable the individual to exist in it. And then, if I may say so without offending, after Vatican II we suddenly changed horses mid-stream. The point here is not whether the change was for the better or for the worse, and most of us hope and trust that it will be to the better; nor am I questioning the need, in some respects the overdue need, for change. I merely wish to underscore the unavoidable problems that arise from such a massive and headlong change. For the sake of illustration, imagine that you are a teacher, nurse, or drill-press operator and on short notice you are told that your job description and the require-ments for employment have been redefined and that the procedures as well as the rewards have been changed. Moreover, not only are the old role definitions super-seded, but you are told that you must get new directives and guidelines--except that you are not sure from whom or what. Would you not get upset? As one of my patients said: "Formerly we knew that if we got on the boat that went in the right direction and didn't get of[, we were ok. Now we are made personally responsible to get where we are going, but no one has yet thought it through how to get there." Under such circumstances it is understandable that severe conflicts develop. You will say that most of the changes were thoroughly discussed and dialogued, that they were not sudden, that opinions were polled, votes were taken. No one's good will and integrity are being questioned. But even if experiments Were discussed beforehand, did we evalu-ate them thoroughly afterwards? This conference is an attempt to do so. Just how long is it that we have been discussing them? Two years, three years, five years? If we cannot integrate complex childhood experiences during the normal years of adolescence and must extend the moratorium, just how long do you think we need to sift and integrate the huge mass of divergent opinions, rules, roles, and behavior that has been sprung on us in the recent past? A frequent consequence is panic, and not necessarily among the old timers who now have an excuse to remain passive, to leave the initiative to the young, and, if they cannot resist temptation, to sit back and criticize. It is more often the young who panic, because the responsi-bility is too great. Hence exodus of many young progres-sives. Willy-nilly, they accept re.sponsibility for them-selves, but not for the groupl And one cannot blame them; the rules of the game are equivocal and they do I . not know what will prove rewarding. When the religious role is merely a thin veneer on the .I personality, under the abrasion of uncertainties and clashes it wears off. Religio6s ,,who s'eeme,d, to be well adjusted now revert to tlaeir real selves--and since public disapproval has diminished--leave the subculture with which they were not fully identified. It is only lately that we have come to recognize that ¯ I keeping young religious isolated for long periods in the exclusive company of their peers, even for the sake advanced education, did not help them develop ~rich human qualities and did not foster community spirit. They tended to remain a sepa, rate group which out of psychological necessity had to f, ancy itself better and dif-ferent from others, inside and outside the community. The unreality was further inflated when the young sisters were assigned, strmght from school, into positions which their lay ¯counterparts ~could achieve only .after many years of hard work. We liave seen the young Ph.D. who was made a full professojr right after she received her degree leave the community when she encountered the first serious obstacle; the[ young R.N., supervisor without ever having been a rookie nurse, getting doctors, staff, and patients into turmoil land feeling "defeated for good"; the young priest, promiiing member of his order, going literally on a sit-down strike because he could not do all that he expected from hi~nself and from others. Into this group belong also t~e men and women whose delayed adolescence led to so-cAlled "late blooming" and who leave religious life because of real or purported .I sexual oroblems. In our experience, there were far fewer of .these than generally assumed, at least among the women religious. Here I must stop and quali[y~ what I have just said. In the last two months 78 case histories accumulated on my desk, of clients not seen by us in the clinic but about whom I was consulted by a non-sectarian adoption agency. These are cases of seventy-eight ex-religious, most them college graduates, many with advanced degrees, who left their convents 6 to 18 months ago and who are expecting a child out of wedlock. They are mostly in their middle thirties, and most of the fathers of the child ÷ ÷ ÷ Counseling Religious VOLUME 28, 1969 Andr~e Emery REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 44 to be are members of underprivileged minority groups. Not one was a victim of rape. Practically all said the same thing: our community did not change fast enough with the times; our community is not involved with the poor and underprivileged. We wanted to get dose to people in a personal apostolate (none of them were trained social workers); we wanted to live with them in the inner citymand get involved. And so they did. A few of them stated that they were advised by priests to leave the celibate life and get married. But, one of them added bitterly, they never warned her how few eligible men there were in her age bracket. Not knowing these women personally, I cannot judge how many had serious sexual problems, for which this certainly was not the answer, and how many were naively following fashions or using broadly preached but not sufficiently thought through slogans to excuse their im-mature acting out. As regards the quoted advice, it seems to be freely given to both men and women religious, as if marriage were a cure for sexual problems, to be used on prescriptionmwhich incidentally doesn't work rather than a sacrament and a responsible human relationship requiring maturity and mutual respect from the part-ners. ~Arhile some of the foregoing is a regrettable but pre-dictable reaction to stress, enhanced by a cultural incli-nation to buy what is advertised or what is in fashion, irregardless, there is an additional psychological com-ponent in the existing confusion among the religious. When a person searches for a new identity or new iden-tification, by definition he ceases to act in the role of a mature adult. He regresses to quasi-adolescence, to turmoil, indecisiveness, influencibility, impulsive acting out. We have seen this syndrome frequently in refugees and adult immigrants when they tried to adjust to their new country and its culture. The search for new mean-ing, new relevance, new identity in the religious life, whether to the better or worse, per se increases the turmoil caused by other individual and social factors. Perhaps the present quasi-adolescent upheaval of the religious is unavoidable, and hopefully it will lead us into a more and better integrated religious adulthood; but it is painful for those who go through it and more often than not embarrassing for the onlooker. Having become aware of widespread immaturity in comtemporary society and of its consequences, we are now inclined to fall into another pit. We are tempted to demand the impossible: that the girls and boys who enter our institutes, seminaries, convents, be mature. Per-haps maturity could be demanded if we would up the entrance age by some 20 years, in the hope that someone else would give the young the necessary guidance and would develop their personalities for religious life. We cannot stock novitiates and seminaries with sure bets--we have to take chances. We cannot screen out all who are immature, because if we do we abdicate as religious educators, as adults who take the responsibility for nurturing and forming the young. And certainly we should not screen out anyone on the basis of one test, given in absentia and scored by someone who never saw the applicant in person. On the other hand, we should not let young religious take perpetual vows when there is a serious question regarding their suitability. Severely neurotic persons, not to speak of psychotic or potentially psychotic ones, should not be burdened hy commitments which they will not be able to keep. But, when a professed member of a community be-comes disturbed or mentally ill, do we have a right to say that he should never have entered, that she never had a vocation, that they should be let go if at all possible? Are only the perfect seated at the banquet of the Master? Father Orsy last night said that St. Peter would not have been canonized--I don't think he would have been ac-cepted into a novitiate. Are our disturbed brothers and sisters very different from us but for being harder hit by suffering? Who is my neighbor? Only the under-privileged in the inner city? These troubled men and women in our communities are our closest neighbors. They are our poor: we have accepted them, we formed or tried to form or deform them, and we must bear their burden if we are to be called Christians. There are great differences in attitudes toward disturbed religious in their communities. Trying to get rid of them, with the shallow excuse that they never had a vocation and never should have been accepted, is injustice, even if there should be some truth in it; sending them from house to house or cramming them into the motherhouse is no answer to the problem either, and neither is the plan to live in an apartment with chosen friends the solution. When I said good-bye to the chief of our clinic, he said: "You will make a theological point, won't you? [He meant some reference to religion.] After all, you will be speaking to religiousl" I am tempted to belabor for a couple of minutes the often heard remark that no one wants to commit him-self today--which is true to a certain extent. But more often than not we found that persons, religious or lay, are desperately hungry for commitment. They want to give themselves to something or someone. They so very much want to entrust themselves to some group or indi-vidual. But they have not learned to trust because they Counseling Religious VOLUME ~'8, J.969 + ÷ Andr~e Emery REVIEW'FOR R'EL'~G IOUS ,t6 have not found anyone really trustworthy in their young years. Therefore they want and need some tangible evi-dence of appreciation, something in exchange--love or ~uccess--and they want a way out if things do not work out. Their needs are unfulfilled childhood needs; their reservations are rooted deep down in bone and marrow. The concept of commitment is not easily reconciled with such reservations--certainly not Christian commitment which must be an adult act of self-giving. I know that the saints and particularly the mystics are not "in" now, but rarely have I found a better description of the "perfec-tion of charity" (if I may use such an antiquated term) than in one of St. Catherine of Siena's mystical dialogues when she heard our Lord say." I have placed you in the midst of your fellows that you may do to them what you cannot do to me, that is to say, that you may love your neighbor of free grace without expecting any return from him. Someone asked how to tell whether a tree brought good fruit? We are too often inclined to think of success as good fruit. From where did we, Christians, get this notion anyhow? Of instant success as a must? Or even as hard-earned reward of the just? Christianity always was a losing cause, at least in the short run. Few apostles have reaped where they have sown. There was a small item in the Los Angeles morning paper the day I left home. I cut it out because of its deep significance for us. The follow-ing is an excerpt from it: The finest sermon he ever heard, said Dr. Eugene Carson Blake, was just three sentences long. It was delivered by Miss Kathleen Bliss of the Church of England, before the Central Committee of the World Council of Churches last year. In a very brief closing service we had sung the ancient hymn, "Veni Creator Spiritus". Dr. Bliss then read from the Gospel of Luke in the 4th Chapter, the account of Jesus returning to Nazareth and entering into the Synagogue and opening a book where it read, "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me because He has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovering the sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to pro-claim the acceptable year of the Lord." ,, Then Dr. Bliss spoke her three sentences. Our hymn was a prayer in which we dared to ask for the presence and guid-ance of the Holy Spirit. We never know whether He will come or what He will do to us if He comes. I remind you that the scripture account which we have just heard goes on to tell us that Jesus' neighbors in Nazareth then tried to kill Him." .There is another variation on the success theme that is even more disturbing than the naive expectation of in-st~ int reward. In our work with religious we frequently came face to face with a man or woman, capable, tal-ented, "who was deeply angry, resentful, depressed, be-cause he or she was not omnipotent. Some wanted to change others, some wanted to change themselves, some sought external success, recognition, others the persdnal satisfaction of achievement, or, occasionally, material goods. None of them faced "this carnal reality," the limits of human existence, in themselves and outside. They wanted something and therefore it had to be. If it did not happen, they went on a "strike" or they became negative, withdrawn, maneuvering-~each according to his personality. Passive-aggressive? Not always. But what-ever the pathology or the character structure, with one's "third ear" one perceived the echo of the ancient pro~nise: And you will be like God--all knowing, all powerful. When the promise did not come true, there came forth the even more ancient answer: Non serviam. I will not serve. Familiar? Some years ago it was thought that emotionally dis-turbed and mentally ill people were often preoccupied with religion. Actually, in certain crisis periods of life, such as 5-6 years in childhood, in adolescence, in the so-called change of life, when approaching death, people become preoccupied with basic human problems: life-death, love-hate, God or the void. There is a certain logic in that people should turn to God in periods of suffering and turmoil--though sometimes this might be expressed in the form of cursing. I might have misunder-stood one of the earlier speakers, and if I did, I apolo-gize, but it seemed to me that she said that the suffering and the dying are always completely self-centered. Not always, as many concentration camp cases have shown, to mention only extreme instances. When an individual is deeply rooted in a culture that recognizes the tran-scendent, and if his childhood trust was permitted to grow into adult faith, even if he experienced shorter or longer periods of emotional fatigue (to use an euphe-mism) in high and low periods of life he will return to God. This is why I was deeply shaken by the fact that of the 161 religions and priests to whom I have listened for several thousand hours, only two, one priest and one brother, mentioned God. No matter how much I would like to shun it, how can I avoid asking the question: What tragic lack in us, Christian parents of the present generation, religious men and women, teachers, nurses, social workers, catechists, what tragic lack in us has buried God so deep that even the suffering and the troubled cannot reach Him today? Indeed, there is a need for renewal that goes far beyond adaptation. + ÷ ÷ Counseling Religious VOLUME 28, 1969 ANDREW J. WEIGERT Social Dimensions of Religious Clothing Andrew J. Wei-gert is a faculty member of the De-partment of Soci-ology and Anthro-pology at the University of Notre Dame in Notre Dame, Indiana 46556. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The Catholic experience as presently interpreted in America is undergoing many changes.1 In the midst of such widespread change, there may be a danger in under-valuing certain sociological dimensions of clothing in the case of the religious orders, both men and women, and to some extent for the diocesan clergy as well. The prob-lem is no doubt most pervasive in the religious orders of women. At the same time, there seems to be some un-clarity and lack of simple sociological principles to in-form the discussion and aid in the decision making. A folk adage has it that "the cowl does not make the monk," but the resistance offered to changes in religious garb from certain quarters makes it apparent that some may think differently. Nor is such resistance always to be attributed to unthinking conservativism. It may be based on a well founded respect for the "reality" and social, power of appearances. These realistic bases for questioning the advisability of change for the sake of change deserve respect and should be distinguished from various traditions which grow around uniforms (for example, saints appearing in a certain habit) as attempts to legitimize and sanctify a uniform for all times, places, and social orders. The present discussion of religious clothing will focus around two value orientations which are taken to be more or less conflicting: witnessing for other-worldly (transcendent) values, and identifying with this-worldly (immanent) values. In order to witness for other-worldly values, an individual must be recognized as standing for such values; and the sign, for example, a uniform which cannot be identified with contemporary cultural styles, which enables him (throughout this paper, the him will refer to the "religious," both male and female, with all wish to thank Sisters Rosina Fieno, C.S.J., and Mary Margaret Zaenglein, I.H.M., for criticizing .an earlicr version of this paper. II due respects to the latter) to be recognized as a witness also sets him apart from non-witnessing persons. Simi-larly, in order to be identified with this-worldly values, an individual must be recognized as belonging to the group which shares these values. Social recognition, as mediated by clothing, is a cognitive process whereby the viewer classifies and labels individuals according to his interpretation of their tailored appearance. An in-escapable social-psychol0gical dimension of every social order is the necessary visual "giving off" of information about his place and identity in that society which each individual proffers in his appearance. Stated aphoris- ~tic.ally, a member of society cannot not "appear," tha

Issue 49.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1990. ; R[ vl~ w ~-OR R~-t ~G~OUS (ISSN 0034-639X) ~,, pubhshed b~-monthly at St Louis Unlver,,~ty by the M~s-soun Prov~nce Educational Institute ol the Society of Jesus: Editorial Office; 3601 Lmdell Blvd. Rm. 428; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis MO. Single copies $3.50. Subscriptions: United States $15.00 for one year; $28.00 for two years. Other countries: US $20.00 for one year: if airmail. US $35.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address. write: R~vtEw FOR R~-:~.w, ous: P.O. Box 6070: Duluth. MN 55806. POSTMASTER: Send address changes tu R~:vw~:w vor Rv:~.~aot~s; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. ~1990 Rv:vt~.:w vor Rl.:Li~;~ot~s. David L. Fleming, S.J. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David J. Hassel, S.J. Mary Margaret Johanning, S.S.N.D. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Sean Sammon, F.M.S. Wendy Wright, Ph.D. Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B. September/October 1990 Volume 49 Number 5 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to Rv:\'~:w v'o~ Rv:w.uaot~s; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. I~mis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Eliza-beth McDonough, O.P.; 5001 Eastern Avenue; P.O. Box 29260; Washington, D.C. 20017. Back issues and reprints should be urdered from Rr:\'~:w roa Rr:~.~;m~s; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. IA~uis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion uf each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Suciety for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York. NY 10010. PRISMS. At the May meeting of the Advisory Board for REvIEw FOR RELIGtOUS, the members became engrossed in a discussion of the heritages-- Benedictine, Dominican, Salesian, and many others--that consecrated life fosters and should foster in the Church. Sometimes women and men religious forget their special call to be channels of their own spiritual tra-dition and practice. Religious life, signalized in Vatican II documents as belonging to the charismatic structure of the Church, continues to give birth anew to its members by the overshadowing of the Spirit. The particular spiritual in-sights and practices which establish each religious community become permanent gifts not only to the vowed members but also to the whole Church. The Church's recognition and approval is based on this prem-ise. Religious life plays a critical role in carrying forward the Christian spiritual-life traditions in the Church community. The Church expects in-dividual religious and religious families to give witness to their spiritual traditions. It is no surprise, then, that books and journals dealing with the spiritual life (such as REv=Ew FOR REUCtOUS) are so often the product of people living in this consecrated lifeform. In our times we are being made far more aware of the tradition of the Pauline Body of Christ, with the differing gifts of its members. One of the gifts specially present in religious life is its responsibility to hand on the spiritual-life traditions within the Christian community. Obviously God's gifts are never merely self-enhancing, and so religious life was never meant to be a caste apart or its own separate church. The gift of religious life within the Church only heightens the ways that Christians feel called to live out their following of Jesus in their own day--not only the members with a particular religious calling,.but also friends, cowork-ers, students, parishioners---in a word, all who are touched in some way by members of a religious community. This journal's very title could seem to restrict its reading audience to people following a certain consecrated lifeform recognized in the Church. But, as a matter of fact, from its beginnings almost fifty years ago, REvmw FOR REL~CIOUS has invited diocesan priests, bishops, and lay people to find in its pages the roots of our Christian spiritual heritage which nourish us all. The number of subscribers other than religious was small in the beginning, but has grown steadily, especially with the bur- 641 642 / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 geoning of ministries and prayer groups in the Church after Vatican II. Articles in REvmw FOR RELm~OtJS will continue to focus on various Christian heritages which religious life helps keep alive in the Church. We hope thereby to provide for all our readers access to roots as well as to budding developments in the living of the Christ-life. The authors in this issue again are representative of our reading audi-ence. For example, Barbara Dent, well-known for her spiritual writings, continues her own experiential reflections on a prayer tradition deep in the Carmelite religious family. Father Richard Lamoureux, a.a., takes an "American" approach to an age-old Augustinian tradition of prayer. The diocesan priest Father Clyde Bonar uses the experiences of St. Fran-cis of Assisi to suffuse with faith the human experience of shame. Dr. James Magee, professor of gerontology, in his article "Planning an In-tercommunity Skilled Nursing Facility," tries to facilitate the working together of religious groups coming from various religious traditions. Perhaps at this time in history we especially need to grow in our ap-preciation of religious life as the purveyor of the Christian spirituality heritage. If we do grow in this way, the Church worldwide will become all the richer in its own life and mission. David L. Fleming, S.J. Moral Issues in Spiritual Direction Shaun McCarty, S.T. Father Shaun McCarty, S.T., teaches in the Washington Theological Union and is a staff member of the Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation. His address is Holy Trinity Mission Seminary; 9001 New Hampshire Avenue; Silver Spring, Maryland 20903. My gracefully aging mother has acquired a certain Wisdom from the ex-perience of her years, yet she still seeks confirmation from her clerical eldest in matters of faith and morals! Vatican II suited her just fine be-cause, she says, "It said a lot of things I always thought!" On my weekly visits, she will often begin with, "Now tell me if I'm to think this way, but . " And then she will go on to comment on some issue she has been thinking about in the quiet of her "digs" in a condomin-ium for the elderly (which she sometimes thinks may be the only heaven she will get to!). On the issue of Church: "I go to church because I like to, not because I have to. But I can't see running in and out all the time. Especially when people need you. What good is it to go to church if it does not help you be a better person outside?" On prayer: "God's not just in church. He is (she is not fully feminist yet!) in my apartment too. And I do not think ! have to say a lot of prayers; God and I just have these talks when I say what is on my mind and he talks to me." On sev-eral occasions she has raised this moral issue: "Now tell me if I am wrong to think this way, but I think a lot of these rules that come from the Church are not God's. Most are man-made. Now I think God gave us heads to think ourselves. Not just run off and ask the priest what is right or wrong or wait for the Pope to tell us what to do or not do. If you ask me, I just think the reason people do that is because they are too damn lazy to think for themselves! Now is it wrong for me to be think-ing this way?" I ask her: "Now, Morn, don't you think the Church has 643 644 / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 anything to say about what is right or wrong?" She answers: "Of course, but I'm choosy about whom I listen to!" I just smile, shake my head and assure her that she will probably escape ecclesiastical censure! Actually, she gives new meaning, life, and hope for the terms spiritual and moral life! 'Moral is one of those words laden for many with negative undertones ~uch as repressive, punishing, puritan, pharisaical, and the like. Spiri-tual often connotes an a_nemic and pious evasion of down,t0-earth~ d~ ~o-day living. Until we encounter both embodi_e_d_and~i0tegr_~t_ed_i_n~--~l ,rpeople like Mom ,hose lives and choices validate t~]~ch~i'~hg0i~nd prayer! rYOften, too, moral life and spiritual life are separated: the former re- .ferring to what is right and wrong; the latter, to what is good and beetler. 19 the ministry of spiritual direction, which aims primarily-at-'spiri~ual ~rowth, moral issues frequently arise and discrepancies become appa~ ~.nt either within the value system of the dii'ectee, between the dire~tee an~ Church teaching, or between the value systems of the d~rector and the~ dtrectee. What follows wall be an attempt to provide a frame.w~o_rk m which spiritual gu~des~can-tleal'w~th~moral-~ssues'and'grapple with such ~liscrepancies. ~I will first explore the meaning and relationships of some key terms ip.cluding moral and spiritual life, conscience and discernment. Then, I will consider the role of Church as teacher and the role of the spiritual director as guide in the formation of conscience, including some specific ~reas in which the director can be helpful. Finally, I will raise some dif-ficulties that can occur in dealing with moral issues in the ministry of s~iritual direction. ~Moral and Spiritual Life I.n the context of this article, spiritual life means graced growth in the~spirit, that is, in that dimension of human existence by which we are ~.open t~___.transcendent_ rove and drawn by the Spirit into intimate union ~.with God and communion with each other through, with, and in Christ. ~lokalli~ refers t0-th-~t ~i~e~ct of life that has to~do with. human C~h~0~ic~-s ~fi~eely~made~and~lowngl6ehav~ors~freely:embraced~that;-:under:grace, en- ~able one to pursue good, avoid evil, and~ herice, grow hurria-~ly. ,~ As moral theologians point out, unfortunately in the past, there tii~S ~.been and continues to be a split between moral and spiritual theology. Respected Redemptorist theologian, Bernard Haring says: Moral theology for the use of confessors and penitents was almost un- Moral Issues / 645 avoidably guided by the knowledge of dominion and control. Since such a theology, written mostly for controllers, could threaten the freedom of believers in the realm of things solicited by grace, it seemed best to leave out or bypass spirituality . ~ This resulted in a dual track for Christians: one for an elite who wanted to strive for maximum ideals in "seeking perfection" and the other for those who were satisfied to meet minimum expectations in "sav-ing their souls." Beatitudes were for the former; commandments for the latter. Not only was there a split between classes of Christians, but indi-vidual conscience also was divided into two compartments: one for moral norms, the other for "works of supererogation" (those above and be-yond the call of duty!). ~e dichotomies_are unfortunate. Moral and spiritual life are warp and w~i'~?oi;~ameTf:~l~i-U.~'~'~]i~fiaor~a~:~on focuses on an~ai-ea key to human, and therefore, spiritual growth--namely, that of choices that define a person more-thah anything else and behaviors that promot~ ~0~ih~. ;there is a universal call to holiness. To love God with all our hearts and to love others as Christ loves us is a normative ideal for every Christian. The choice is not between a "spiritual" life or a "moral" life. Whether intentional or not, every Christian is on a spiritual journey and summoned to be challenged by the beatitudes as well as by the com-mandments. Again, B. Haring: It is detrimental to the very fundamental norms of Christian ethics, but especially to the formation of a distinctively Christian consciousness, if the law of growth and the criteria for a deeper understanding of Chris-tian love are relegated to another discipline . But it should be equally clear that a distinctively Christian formation of conscience does not belong to those who specialize in "knowledge of control"! For it is at the very heart of salvation.2 The bottom line is that love is the highest common denominator of every moral act as well as the source and goal of all spiritual growth. ~Con~_s_cience ~I~n general, as a faculty of moral lif~-,-~ohscience is concerned with .~ ~ . ~.-:~ ~. . - ~ . .~- ,h~urfian cbOic6s of good or ewl. An ~nformed conscience is the final ar-biter of moral choice. It refers to that element in the experience of free-dom that makes one aware of responsibility and accountability for one's decisions and actions. The biblical term for conscience is "heart" in which God's will is written (Rm 2:15). Theologically speaking, it is "self-consciousness passing moral judgment.' ,3 In speaking of the dig- 646 / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 nity of moral conscience, the Fathers of Vatican II described conscience as ". the most secret core and sanctuary of a man (sic). There he is alone with God, whose voice echoes in his depths."4 Conscience may be said to operate at three levels: ~(1) Fundamental level: This refers to th~ hiJFria--ff-~apacity freely t6 ~hoose a life-orientation towards God (the Choi~ce); _tp. p~_rsue .good(the Wight) and to avoid evil (the Darkness) with an awareness of respp.n__s_i~ ~ility and accountabilii'~At this level, one may be said to have a ge~n- ~ral sense of value.' A fundamental choice for the Light assumes that to be human is to have basic freedom and to have a radical openness to the mystery of God which, again, defines a person more than anything else. To take this option is to experience metanoia (change of heart) which af-fects the whole person (body, mind, and spirit). It is an invitation to turn over all of one's energies to God, to put one's life at the disposal of God, to be a disciple in loving service of others as Christ did and to live under the guidance of the Spirit in subsequent day-to-day decisions. It is in the light of this fundamental level of conscience that important life-decisions such as marriage, priesthood, and vowed life should be made. (2) Reflection/assessment level (individual choices): This level con-cerns day-to-_day choices of varying degrees of importance requiring a process of moral reasoning related to concrete situations.~It calls for re-flection, discussion, and analysis. I think it is what my mother means I~y "using the head that God gave us." Here one is concerned with spe-cific perception of value. At this level, there is room for difference, dis-agreement, error, blindness, distortion, rationalization, confusion, and cultural blindness. Consequently, it is primarily at this level that a per-son needs assistance from more objective sources including Sacred Scrip-ture, one's faith community, friends, confessor, and spiritual director. It is precisely at this level that conscience needs continually to be formed and informed. For that to happen effectively, a person needs humility so that conscience can "kneel at the altar of truth" to which conscience is always subject. It is at this level that the teaching Church as reposi-tory of the values of a faith-community, has an important but limited role as moral teacher and one distinct from that of spiritual director. More about this later. ~,~.(3)~Action level: This refers.to.the_moral judgment or choice of wh~t one believes to be right that brings with it a moral imperative to act. At C~his lev~e_l, a person exercises responsibility and accountability for actions ~and for the consequences of actions that conscience commands. A sign of responsible moral choice is growth in willing, compassionate concern/ Moral Issues / 647 action as opposed to willful, selfish action/inaction. In other words, genu-ine moral judgments and decisions find their completion and become enfleshed in moral deeds. pis:ernn~en~t i Discernment refers to the prayerful sorting out of interior movements ~expenenCe~d ~n-theprocess of tnakmg judgments and deos~ons to deter-m~ ne'wh~ch are of the Spent consequently resonant w~th the fundamen-taVl level-of c-~fiscie0.~e.-It presupposes a quest Of interior freedom as w~ll ~.ffs-careful attent~0n to the concrete particulars of a situation taking into i~onsideration subjective feelings as well as objective facts. It is possible to speak also of levels of discernment that bear some correlation with the levels of conscience occurring at: (1) the fundamen-tal (or core) level of faith, where a person becomes aware of God-experience in light of which one perceives that way of life where she or he can best express and pursue a fundamental choice of God and the good; (2) the reflection/assessment level of day-to-day choices of vary-ing degrees of significance and permanence made with a sufficient de-gree of interior freedom and in resonance with one's fundamental expe-rience of God; (3) the action level whereby a discerned judgment or de-cision is brought to completion by translating it into a concrete behavior that, if it is truly discerned, will bear the fruits of the Spirit. Relationship of DiScernment and Conscience Discernment is critical in the process of what lawyer-priest, R.P. Stake, calls the "evangelization of conscience" which entails the power of the Gospel to reveal to an individual the fact and the seriousness of one's sins.5 What discernment brings to the evangelization of conscience in:~ cludes: (l) a sharper focus on the subjective and unique factors at work,] for this person in this .situation (especially important at a time of accel-erating moral complexity and waning adequacy of objective moral norms and extrinsic moral authority); (2) a situating of decision-making within ff ~?a biblical tradition of both Old and New Testaments, especially in the letters of John and Paul;~(3) a rooting and contextualizing of the decision-r~ aklng process in a person's prayer and experience of Go~l; (4) a more ihtentional attempt to examine motivations to see from where they are ~commg and to where they are 'l~ading so as to create the conditions for greater interior freedom in making choices;~(-5) a nuancing of choicest-- not just of the good over the bad, the genuinely good over the supposed good, but also choices among goods; ~(6) in contrast to an excessive de- 6411 / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 pendence on laws and authority as sources of moral judgment, discern-ment is conducive to ~clearEr focusing of responsibility four,the decision ~. 3. -- a~nd its cons~equ_e_n-ces on_ the pers_on making the de_.c~!s~on; (~7) ~n contrast to an individualistic and isolated process, a situating of the decision~ making process within the context of a person's faith commUfiity; (,8)~ contrast to a more exclusively rational and deductive approach (~s is often the case in the exercise of prudence ), ] serious~consideration of human affectivit~ as an important locus of grace~in human choice. , In testing the spirits oy measunng them against one s tunoamen-tal God-experience, moral judgments are more likely to be integrated with conscience as well as reinforcing of conscience at the level of one's fundamental choice¯ In short, discernment makes for a more prayerful, thorough, personalized, interiorized, and human process of conscience formation¯ Hopefully the discussion thus far makes clear that discernment is not dispensation from moral law, but rather an invaluable help in observing it. Rather than an "occasional exercise," discernment presupposes the cultivation of a "prayerful mode" and commitment to contemplative practice that can clarify one's vision and solidify one's dedication to truth¯ It is interesting to note that moral theologians today are showing a marked interest in a discernment approach to moral choice.6 ~,Role of the Church in Formation of Conscience ~The Church (understood as the e~n~ir'~Z~P~'o~le~f~G~d)~ qt preserves and hands down a faith-community's values, is an impor-tant, but limited agent in the evangelization of conscience¯ The teaching ~'Church is not a substitute for conscience; nor is its proper role one o~ ~Grand Inquisitor"; nor yet is it the ultimate arbiter of morality¯ Con-science is. But the Church is a privileged moral teacher and recognized ~leader that plays a significant role in thg~ilJp_mination of conscience. It d~es not create morality. Rather it helps people to discover God's de-sires for humankind which are written on the "fleshy tablets" of the hu- ~man heart¯ Not only does the Church embrace historically and cross-culturally an experience far wider than that of a single individual or cul-ture, but believers hold that the Church has special guidance from the Holy Spirit. Though the Church cannot be expected to address all the val-ues in every moral situation, it can provide norms against which people can measure their own moral judgment. Such norms protect values. Val-ues may be protected in different ways in different eras and/or cultures. Above all, the Church is eminently equipped to help form mature Chris-tian consciences that will enable people to accept responsibility for "us- Moral Issues / 6t19 ing the heads God gave them" in arriving at sound moral decisions. ~Role of-Sp~tual Director in Formation of Conscience ¯ ,Since:mOraVand~spiritual~life:should not'be d~vided~ the~d~rector ob7- ~o~s.~y ~ concerned w~th the moral choices of the directee. In the pro-cess of disce~ment, choices should be consonant with a fundamental choice of the Light and with the person's value system. Though neithe~ ~a represeatative 6fthe-teaching Church as such nor a moral judge of oth- .ers -Consc~ence~ ~n the role of spiritual dire&or, nevertheless ihe-dir~' t~r dbe~ have a responsibility to assist in the ongoing evangelization of conscience by way of enabling individuals to find their own way.- The director also needs to pay attention to his or her own blocks, biases, and unfreedoms that can arise from conflicts between the director's value sys-tem and that of the directee. The director's moral code is not normative ,for the directee. ~ spiritual director acts best as moral guide by being a witness to ~,(trut~hd pers0ndleXample Of integrity~- In addition, the director can help form consciences by appropriate interventions, pat~'e nt wa~t~ng," " compas-sionate understanding, and by maintaining a non-judgmental attitude, -~hde at the same t~me offering honest challenge. The most helpful in-tervention is attentive listening. All spiritual growth, including the evangelization of conscience, happens incrementally. This calls for pa-tience and attentiveness to the readiness of the directee in a~iving at her or his own judgments. It should be noted that self-denigration is one of the most basic moral issues with which many in direction need to deal~ Real or supposed moral lapse especially can deepen it, and this calls for compassionate understanding. Yet, good people are prone to subtle ways of rationalizing and, at times, need honest challenge. It is one thing to experience ambiguity in moral issues; it is another to refuse to wrestle with it] It is comfo~ing to remember that when difficulties arise, the same Holy Spirit who illumines discerning hea~s is also leading persons to moral integrity~ What specifically can a spiritual guide do to enable the formation of conscience? At the fundamental level of conscience, it can be assumed that the person coming for direction has made a fundamental choice of God and the pursuit of good. It would be important in making discerned moral choices that persons continue to refer back to the deepest level of their God-experience. In reference to a major life-decision affecting a per-son's deepest commitments (for example, to enter or to leave marriage, priesthood, vowed life), a director might ask: Has the directee spent shf-ficient time in serious prayer? Made a careful examen of motives? Asked 650 / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 others for feedback? It is at the reflection/assessment level of conscience that most guid-ance is sought. :S~6'~ " a "ec o be ~i~fulz ~ (1 ) In assessing moral maturity: What is the quality of the moral rea-soning process of the directee in reference to this choice? Does the per-son have a sufficiently informed conscience? Where are the blind spots? To what extent is the directee open to outside input? Is she or he making efforts to inform conscience by some reference to moral norms? (for ex-ample, Scripture, norms of his or her faith community?) Has the directee already made up his or her mind and now is unwilling to be "confused with the facts"? Does the directee rely on authority and law for some directives she or he likes, but on a subjective process of "discernment" for others she or he does not? Who will be affected and how by this moral choice? (2) In clarifying values: What values seem important to the directee (as they become visible in choices acted upon as well as spoken of!) and in what priority are they held? Does the person have sufficient clarity con-cerning these priorities? What values does the directee perceive in refer-ence to the specific moral issue with which she or he is now struggling? Is there any struggle? In "grey" areas is the directee willing to strug-gle? Has the director grappled with the same issue and know where she or he stands at present? Is the director clear about his or her own value system? What unfreedoms in the director might significantly hinder fa-cilitating the directee's discernment? (3) In establishing a prayerful mode: Is the directee bringing the is-sue to prayer/discernment: sufficiently in touch with her or his experi-ence of God? seeking inner freedom? gathering sufficient data? attentive to affective responses as options are explored and data gathered? In re-flecting on and in assessing options, does the directee feel any incongru-ence or resistance within towards one or the other option? In deciding on the action level of conscience: Does the directee trans-late moral judgments into deeds? Is she or he open to accountability? Will-ing to take responsibility for his or her actions? What are the conse-quences of the directee's moral decision for others? For self? ~Difficulties Facing Directors in Dealing with Conscience ,Since consciences differ as people do, it .is tO be expe~.cot_eod_~that diffi- ~'ulties can arise indealing with moral issues. These include: ~(1) Difference in moral conviction: When there is a difference of moral conviction on an issue with a directee (for example, divorce, Moral Issues / 651 greed, tax fraud, contraception, sexual activity, and so forth), what is the moral responsibility of the spiritual director? Although a guide in the process of moral choice rather than a teacher of morality, a spiritual di-rector must make a judgment as to whether she or he feels so strongly about an issue as to be unable to help the person deal with it. The direc-tor might pose the question: Will my own strong conviction constitute a major interference in the direction process? What would be appropri-ate to share with the directees at this time concerning my difference of conviction? (For example, a director might be absolutely unwilling to help a person "discern" an abortion.) ~(2) Inadequate social moral consciousness of the directee: What can a director do to help a person broaden the horizons of a conscience lack-ing in social consciousness or with little sense of social sin? On the one hand, the director needs to respect the value system of the directee and to respect readiness for change. On the other hand, the working alliance between the two should also have provided for appropriate challenge as a help to growth. If social consciousness seems to need broadening, a director might: (a) suggest readings to provoke thought; (b) be attentive to possible points of entry for discussion arising from life experience re-ported by a directee that can be occasions of broadening social aware-ness-- for example, a chance brush with a beggar or a personal experi-ence of discrimination; (c) suggest firsthand exposure to situations of so-cial concern--for example, volunteering time at a shelter for the home-less; (d) at times of periodic assessment (for which a good working alli-ance will also make provision), an honest and direct, yet gentle challenge may be in order. ~)(3) Distress after moral lapse: Without unduly mitigating a healthy sense of guilt that helps a person to recognize culpability and move to repentance, a compassionate director can help minimize the debilitating preoccupation that often accompanies guilt. If a person is overly dis-traught over a moral lapse, a director can help by getting the directee to contextualize it, that is, to see it in relationship to his other fundamental option and to the rest of his or her moral life. Does it reverse the funda-mental optioh? Erode it? Not substantially affect it? In addition to sin, where has grace been experienced? How might the experience of moral lapse and its aftermath (for example, a lessening of spiritual pride) been an occasion of grace? Conclusion In dealing with moral issues in spiritual direction, we have explored the meaning and relationship of moral and spiritual life and seen that the 652 / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 two should not be divided. Moral life has as one of its concerns a key aspect of spiritual life--namely, decision-making and its relationship to character formation. Discernment is not an alternative to, but an enrich-ment of moral decision-making. Both Church as moral teacher and spiri-tual director as moral guide play significant, but different and limited roles in the formation of conscience--the final arbiter of moral judgment which, in turn, must always remain open to ongoing formation. Finally, we considered some ways for a spiritual director to deal with difficulties that arise in dealing with moral issues. Hvopefully, both Church and spiritual director will provide teachi~g~ find guidance that will enable folks, as-Mom says, "to use the heads God !~ga,~ethem to think for themselves!" That might give both the terms moral and spiritual life better press! You know, as I think of it, my mother was and continues to be my first (and probably my best!) profes-sor of moral and spiritual theology! Exercise Can you think of a situation in which your moral judgment differed from that of a directee? One in which the directee's was in conflict with Church teaching? What did you judge as your own moral responsibility towards the di-rectee? How did this affect your ability to discern as spiritual director? How did you try to discern what you should share with the directee? What aided your discernment? NOTES ~ See B. Haring, Free and Faithful in Christ, Vol. I (New York: Seabury, 1978), pp. 2-3. 2 Ibid, p. 253. 3 K. Rahner & H. Vorgrimler, Theological Dictionary (Herder & Herder, 1968), p. 95. 4 "Gaudium et spes," (n. 16) The Documents of Vatican II, W.M. Abbott, ed. (New York: Guild Press), p. 213. 5 R.P. Stake, "Grounding the 'Priest-Penitent Privilege' in American Law," Con-fidentiality in the United States (Washington, D.C.: CLSA, 1988), p. 151. 6 For example, see Tracing the Spirit, J.E. Hug, ed. (New York: Paul ist, 1983), pp. 379ff. Should Spiritual Directors Be Licensed? Timothy Brown, S.J. and Harriet A. Learson Father Timothy Brown, S.J., is assistant professor of law in the Sellinger School of Business and Management, Loyola College in Baltimore, Maryland. Harriet Lear-son, M.B.A., M.A., is a senior management consultant, Right Associates, in Phila-delphia, Pennsylvania, and is a practicing spiritual director. Correspondence may be addressed to Loyola College; 4501 North Charles Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21210- 2699. In today's service-oriented society, one can hardly avoid the media's al-most daily reports about the issue of malpractice. Doctors, lawyers, psy-chologists, psychiatrists, and human service professionals are becoming increasingly liable and vulnerable to public scrutiny regarding their prac-tices, philosophies, and ethics. In an editorial in the Jesuit publication Human Development Father James Gill, S.J., a Jesuit psychiatrist, raised the question of licensing spiritual directors. He comments: Haven't we reached a point in the Church's history when a group of well-trained and experienced spiritual directors can come together and deter-mine what type and amount of preparation would entitle a candidate to be licensed as a spiritual director? For the self-confidence of the direc-tors, no less than the well-being of their directees, a board of examiners and a certifying process comparable to those maintained by clinical psy-chologists, nurses, and physicians should be created. These profession-als have, in conscience, set high standards for their performance for the sake of their clients. We who are given access to the deepest recesses of souls should hardly be less conscientious. I There has been an outpouring of lawsuits against Churches and clergy as a result of alleged malpractice in recent years. The term that 653 654 / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 has been coined is clergy malpractice which covers a wide variety of torts and crimes including child abuse, paternity suits, and intentional inflic-tion of emotional distress. The constitutional questions, under both state and federal Constitutions, oftentimes deny a cause of action because of the First Amendment issue of separation of Church and State. A number of cases have come to the attention of the media in the area of clergy mal-practice. One of the most noteworthy comes from California, Nally vs. Grace Community Church.2 In this case, parents whose son committed suicide brought an action against a church and church-related counselors, alleging negligent coun-seling and outrageous conduct which ultimately led to the death of their son.3 I. Constitutional Issues in Nally Vs. Grace Community Church Kenneth Nally committed suicide after having become part of a re-ligious organization that his parents alleged suggested to his son that, if you kill yourself, you will go to heaven. His parents brought suit against the Grace Community Church of the Valley, a fundamentalist sect, lo-cated in Southern California. The parents sued the church and four pas-tors for malpractice, negligence, and outrageous conduct. They con-tended that the church's evangelical fundamentalist teachings "in-culcated in their son the belief that he had betrayed Christ's love and trust, and otherwise exacerbated Ken's preexisting feelings of guilt, anxi-ety, and deep depression with the knowledge that these acts would in~ crease the tendencies of Ken to attempt to take his own life."4 The church countered that the young man had been examined by five physi-cians and a psychiatrist after an earlier suicide attempt and that the coun-selors had arranged or encouraged many of these visits. A trial judge dis-missed the case after the close of the plaintiff's case, 5 and the case was appealed. The appellate court reversed the trial court's nonsuit of the negli-gence and outrageous conduct allegations against the Grace Community Church and several of its pastoral counselors. They held that the Church's counselors negligently failed to refer this suicidal youth to those authorized and best suited to prevent his death.6 Associate Justice Johnson writing for the majority began the opinion by clearing up the confusion regarding the issue of clergy malpractice: The court., does not view the causes of action discussed in our opin-ion to involve 'clergy malpractice.' Instead, we see them more accu-rately characterized as 'negligent failure to prevent suicide,' and 'inten- Should Spiritual Directors Be Licensed? tional or reckless infliction of emotional injury causing suicide'- which negligence and intentional or reckless acts happens to have been committed by church-affiliated counselors. In our view this case has lit-tle or nothing to say about the liability of clergymen for the negligent performance of their ordinary ministerial duties or even their counsel-ing duties except when they enter into a counseling relationship with sui-cidal individuals.7 The church appealed the ruling by the California Court of Appeals for the Second District. After eight years of litigation after the suicide of Kenneth Nally, the Supreme Court of California in a 5-2 opinion held that the "legal duty of care" imposed by the State on licensed praction-ers did not apply to the clergy.8 Chief Justice Lucas writes: "Neither the legislature nor the courts have ever imposed a legal ob-ligation on persons to take affirmative steps to prevent the suicide of one who is not under the care of a physician in a hospital. Imposing such a duty on nontherapist counselors could have a deleterious effect on coun-seling in general and deter those most in need of help from seeking treat-ment out of fear that the private disclosures could subject them to invol-untary commitment to psychiatric facilities."9 The California court notes the California legislature's recognition that "access to the clergy for coun-seling should be free from state imposed counseling standards." to Two other Justices agreed that the case should be dismissed but said the defendants did have a legal duty of care but that the evidence showed the pastors never breached it or contributed to the man's death. The Court unanimously dismissed the case. II. Spiritual DirectionmA Definition Whether spiritual directors should be licensed to prevent the kind of tragedy described in the Nally case is a question that is presently being debated by many in the field. Spiritual direction has a very broad con-notation. It can be defined as an interpersonal situation in which one per-son assists another person to growth in the spirit, in the life of faith (prayer), hope (difficulties), sufferings (trials), and love (the person's life in the Christian community). 1~ Spiritual direction may better be defined by what it is not, rather than by what it is. Spiritual direction is not pri-marily information even though it may be the occasion for sharing ideas. It is not primarily therapeutic even though there are times when issues of mental and psychological need get discussed. It is not seen as primar-ily advisory although in many situations good advice is imparted. Spiri-tual direction is viewed as primarily the opportunity to get clarification and discernment. How this gets accomplished is by discussing the prayer 656 / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 life and spiritual life of the directee so as to shed some light on what is happening in the life of faith, hope, and love in relation to God. In spiritual direction, the directee tries to describe to a spiritual di-rector his or her prayer experiences. The subject matter of that discus-sion constitutes such areas as when prayer happens, how often, how, what actually happens in the prayer period, other daily life issues such as anxiety over family, job, day-to-day depressions, joys, consolations and desolations, issues of tolerance, patience, and possible manipulation of others. The director's role is to help the person to objectify those per-sonal experiences, to assist by asking appropriate questions in order to gain some clarity on the directee's personal issues. The spiritual direc-tor is interested in helping the directee in the life of prayer so that the relationship with God and the men and women with whom they live and work can become strengthened and enhanced. III. Basic Skills Required of a Spiritual Director At the Jesuit Spiritual Center in Wernersville, Pennsylvania a com-petency profile was developed in an effort at concretizing and articulat-ing the requisite personal qualities, knowledge, skills, and graces to do spiritual direction. Here are some of the standards that were established in that study: 1. Personal Characteristics/Qualities A. Living a vital spiritual life B. Being a recipient oneself of spiritual direction C. Docility to the Spirit D. Kindness E. Gentleness F. Psychological Maturity G. Initiative H. Having a broadly lived human experience J. Stability K. Respect for confidentiality L. Sociability M. Detachment N. Productivity 2. Knowledge A. Lived experience in the Christian tradition B. Christian Doctrine/tradition C. Sacred Scripture D. Christian mystical/ascetical traditions E. The Spiritual Exercises Should Spiritual Directors Be Licensed? / 657 F. Ecclesiology G. Grace H. Christology J. Vatican II K. Justice L. A psychological matrix (theory & language) M. Jungian Psychology 3. Skills/Abilities A. Intrapersonal (affective awareness) B. Discernment C. Listening D. Clarifying E. Diagnosing F. Prescribing G. Judgment H. Common sense J. Interpersonal Skills K. One-on-one L. Group M. Trustworthiness 4. Graces A. Spiritual freedom B. An ongoing call to this work by others C. Called by grace to this work D. Seeing the Gospel happening~2 IV. Ministerial Malpractice Malpractice refers to professional misconduct or the failure of one rendering services in the practice of a profession to exercise the degree of skill and learning normally applied by members of that profession in similar circumstances.~3 The traditional elements necessary to state a cause of action in negligence have beenstated by Prosser as: 1) a duty, or obligation, recognized by the law, requir-ing the actor to conform to a certain standard of conduct for the protection of others against unreasonable risks; 2) a failure on his part to conform to the standard re-quired; 3) a reasonably close causal connection between the con-duct and the resulting injury; and 4) actual loss or damages resulting to the interests of an-other. 14 Review for Religious, September-October 1990 The problem that the courts would face in trying to construe a duty, and then defining that duty in the area of spiritual direction, is in attempt-ing to define what falls within the parameters of the spiritual as opposed to psychological counseling. How would a court make some kind of de-termination as to whether a directee's problem is, in fact, a spiritual or psychological one. The reason that distinction is so necessary is to safe-guard and protect members of the clergy involved in spiritual direction. Father John English, S.J. has written that the distinction between spiri: tual and psychological counseling is oftentimes a fine one. He comments that "although it may be helpful for the director to distinguish between psychological and spiritual counseling, these realities are not distinct within the person being counseled. And the concern is always with the total person." ~5 There are occasions when a director can see that the real need in direction is no longer to facilitate growth in relationship with God but instead to move the person into a psychological counseling setting so that other issues in the directee's life can better be addressed. What are some of the occasions when someone should be referred to therapy? One spiritual director, Mercy Sister Maureen Conroy, R.S.M. regards three situations as clearly signals to refer. They are: 1) when a person experiences serious psychological and emotional disorders, including depression, severe neuro-sis, suicidal tendencies, psychosis; 2) when more time needs to be spent exploring a present life issue, such as a marital problem; and 3) when specific therapeutic skills are needed to explore the conscious and unconscious effects of past life expe-riences, such as sexual abuse or emotional neglect in child-hood. 16 The Supreme Court of California in the Nally case addressed the is-sue of referral of seriously ill directees. Regarding the duty as to "whether the court should impose a duty on defendant and other 'nonth-erapist counselors' (that is, persons other than licensed psychotherapists who counsel others concerning their emotional and spiritual problems) to refer to licensed mental health professionals once suicide becomes a foreseeable risk," the court said no.~7 In determining the existence of a duty of care in any given case, a number of factors were considered, including: "the foreseeability of harm to the injured party, the degree of certainty that he suffered injury, the closeness of the connection be-tween defendants' conduct and the injury suffered, the moral blame at-tached to (defendants), the policy of preventing future harm, the extent Should Spiritual Directors Be Licensed? / 659 of the burden to the defendants and consequences to the community of imposing a duty to exercise care with resulting liability for breach, and the availability, cost, and prevalence of insurance for the risk in-volved. ' ' 18 The court cautiously noted the inappropriateness of imposing a duty to refer in areas involving spiritual counseling because of the very na-ture of the relationship. So many times those relationships are informal, spur of the moment, and gratuitous. The foreseeability of harm may not always be recognized in a one hour session with a disturbed directee. The court concluded by saying that "imposing a duty on defendants or other nontherapist counselors to. insure their counselees [are also] under the care of psychotherapists, psychiatric facilities, or others authorized and equipped to forestall imminent suicide could have a deleterious ef-fect on counseling in general." 19 The California legislature has exempted the clergy from any kind of licensing requirement applicable to "mar-riage, family, child and domestic counselors, and from the operation of statutes regulating psychologists.' ,20 The court took note that the reason why the legislature has exempted clergy from licensing is in order to ex-plicitly "recognize that access to the clergy for counseling should be free from state imposed counseling standards, and that the secular state is not equipped to ascertain the competence of counseling when performed by those affiliated with religious organizations.''2~ V. The Difficulty of Devising Workable Standards For Determining Negligence Along with the difficulty the court recognized with arriving at some kind of workable standard of competency to be established in religious counseling situations, the Nally court also noted the added problem of identifying to whom the duty of duc care should be applied. It would be an immense task to define what exactly constitutes a spiritual direction relationship. Who qualifies as aspiritual director (only the ordained? mem-bers of religious orders?) as well as trying to resolve the issue of relig-ious diversity demonstrates difficulty in determining in what context the interaction is framed. There are all kinds of First Amendment issues in-volved as well. The court expressed the dilemma writing: "Because of the differing theological views espoused by the myriad of religions in our state, and practiced by Church members, it would certainly be impracti-cal and quite possibly unconstitutional to impose a duty of care on pas-toral counselors. Such a duty would necessarily be intertwined with the religious philosophy of the particular denomination or ecclesiastical teach-ings of the religious entity.' ,22 66{I / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 Establishing some kind of criteria of competency that a court could apply would always involve a state intrusion into the realm of religious doctrine and practice. The state would be put in the position of asking whether a particular religious practice was indeed being employed, a par-ticular teachin~g applied correctly, a particular style of spirituality or dis-cernment used properly. All these determinations entail a great deal of state entanglement in sectarian matters. In 1971 the Supreme Court in Lemon vs. Kurtzman,23 adopted a three prong test to decide whether a government activity violates the Estab-lishment Clause of the First Amendment. The test requires that: 1) The purpose of the action be clearly secular; 2) The primary effect of the action must neither advance nor inhibit religion; and 3) the activity may not result in excessive government en-tanglement with the religion.2a Any kind of judicial enforcement of some kind of standard of com-petency for spiritual directors would fail the Lemon vs. Kurtzman test on all three points. The effect of the government overseeing the practices of spiritual directors would more than likely inhibit some of the freedom required to explore, discern, and clarify issues in spiritual direction. The potential for excessive church-state entanglement in the area of enforce-ment of guidelines for direction is limitless. Any standard of care applied in determining qualified licensed prac-tioners in the field of spiritual direction would involve some sort of check as to whether the practice was in step with the religious criteria set forth in the religious teachings of the sect. At best it could be argued that some minimum standard of.training and competence to protect the public from religious fanatics, charlatans, or frauds might be established, but any full-fledged licensing would stifle First Amendment freedom and inhibit re-ligious practice. VI. Difficulties in Establishing a Standard of Care for Spiritual Di-rectors Looking at the Competency Profile of the Jesuit Spiritual Center, one wonders how a court would be able to determine what constitutes com-petency when the spiritual qualification requirements of directors include such characteristics as: 1) Living a vital spiritual life--a life of charity; 2) Habitual experience of individual prayer; 3) A life of Charity .toward all peop!e coupled with an awareness of the w~der needs of the human family; Should Spiritual Directors Be Licensed? / 661 4) An evermore intense interior experience; 5) An ever-growing delicacy of conscience; 6) Kindness--having and showing a benevolent readi-ness to intend the good of others; 7) Giftedness--honoring another's perceptions, judg-ments, and person; a non-defensiveness of spirit, pa-tience, and sympathy; 8) Psychological maturity--free from crippling emo-tional, mental, or volitional habits of a neurotic nature; 9) Sociability--the ability to interact with a variety of per-sonalities; 10) Knowledge--lived experience in the Christian tradi-tion; 1 1) Skills and abilities--interpersonal awareness of one's interior mental and emotional states; 12) Discernment--the experiential knowledge of self in the congruence of the object of choice with one's funda-mental religious orientation; 13) Judgment--the ability to form wise opinions, esti-mates, and conclusions from circumstances presented to the director; 14) Graces-spiritual freedom --without undue influence of disordered affections and attachments; 15) An inner suppleness of character.25 Looking over this list of characteristics needed to be a competent spiri-tual director one could see the difficulty that a court of law would have in trying to render a determination of standards which would meet licens-ing requirements. Courts are not in any position to evaluate the content of the prescribed qualifications. Aside from the obvious First Amend-ment problems found in making judgments on what grace, kindness, char-ity, and other criteria operative within the practice of spiritual direction are, licensing could discourage and diminish the gifts of both the direc-tor and directee. It is the view of the authors that licensing, evolving in the current secula¢ context, goes against the very grain of what spiritual direction is all about and could do a real disservice to those who enter into a direction relationship fearing lawsuits. It could also have a chill-ing effect on directees as well. There is something unique, healing, and very human about spiritual direction as a growth process if we view it as art, science, and discipline. 662 / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 VII. Some Final Observations In reviewing the current legal opinions regarding malpractice in the area of spiritual and pastoral counseling, the authors present several ob-servations. --Licensing spiritual directors is clearly a prophetic question as pro-posed by Gill and is coming increasingly into its own time. The issues surrounding licensing are complex, profound in their implications, dis-turbing, and hopeful as we look at the work of defining the criteria for training, developing, and evaluating competent directors. --Defining what competencies are needed in a spiritual director in different schools of spirituality, religious groups and sects, and what con-tent needs to be included in their training programs producing such pro-fessionals is a challenge that is only beginning to be publicly addressed, discussed, or attempted. --In light of the current legal findings and opinions, spiritual direc-tors need to demand and seek training that is concerned with addressing issues of competency as defined by the required knowledges, skills/ abilities, and personal characteristics/qualities reflecting their spiritual tra-dition towards achieving competency in the training of spiritual direc-tors. --First steps would be for practitioners in the field to come together in a spirit of open inquiry, genuine unselfish concern, and humble aware-ness of the enormity of the task to be accomplished. Developing semi-nars and forming associations or professional forums could provide prac-titioners the milieu to discuss, study, and outline priorities and action steps towards the establishment of professional criteria and guidelines for training, developing, and evaluating spiritual directors. NOTES Gill, "License Spiritual Directors?" 6 Human Development 2 (Summer, 1985). Nally vs. Grace Community Church, 204 Cal. Rptr. 303 (Cal. App. 3 Dist. 1984). Ibid, at p. 303. 4 Ibid, at p. 303. 5 Ibid, at p. 303. Nally vs. Grace Community Church, 253 Cal. Rptr. 97, 1988. lbid, at p. 219. 8 lbid, at p. 105. 9 Ibid, at p. 105. ¯~o Ibid, at p. 105. Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth, Competency Profile. ~2 Restatement (Second) of Torts 299A (1977). t3 Ibid. ~4 W. Prosser, Law of Torts (1966). 15 j. English, Spiritual Freedom (1975). 16 M. Conroy, Growth in Love and Freedom (1987). 17 Nally vs. Grace Community Church, 253 Cal. Rptr. 97 at p. 106. Should Spiritual Directors Be Licensed? / 663 18 Ibid, at p. 106. 19 Ibid, at p. 103. 20 Ibid, at p. 108. 21 Ibid, at p. 108. 22 Ibid, at p. 109. 23 Lemon vs. Kurtzman, 403 U.S. 602. 24Ibid, at p. 60. 25Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth, Competency. The Risk You take a risk when you invite the Lord Whether to dine or talk the afternoon Away, for always the unexpected soon Turns up: a woman breaks her precious nard, A sinner does the task you should assume, A leper who is cleansed must show his proof: Suddenly you see a hole in your roof And a cripple clutters up your living room. There's no telling what to expect when He Walks in your door. The table set for tea Must often be enlarged and decorum Thrown to the wind. It's His voice that calls them And it's no use to bolt and bar the door: His kingdom knows no bounds-~of roof, or wall, or floor. Marcella M. Holloway, C.S.J. 6321 Clemens Avenue St. Louis, Missouri 63130 Prayer as Desire: An American ViewI Richard E. Lamoureux, a.a. Father Richard E. Lamoureux, a.a., has been provincial for the Augustinians of the Assumption. His address is Assumptionist Center; 330 Market Street; Brighton, Mas-sachusetts 02135. The contemporary American artist Andrew Wyeth teaches us a good deal about prayer. Many of his paintings, depicting everyday objects--a bowl of fruit, a cookie jar, a cooling blueberry pie--invite a quiet, simple gaze. But it is not just Wyeth's spare, silent scenes that lead us in the direction of prayer. So many of his portraits are unconventional inas-much as they present the subject turning away from the viewer, appar-ently looking for something in the distance. Forrest Wall, shown in the Man from Maine (1951), turns his back to us and peers out a window partially visible on the right. Elizabeth James, in Chambered Nautilus (1956), does the same from her sick bed. What may be Wyeth's most famous painting depicts Christina Olsen (Christina's WorM, 1948) sit-ting in the field below her home, straining with all her might in the di-rection of the house as if she might return there on the strength of her desire despite the palsied legs that restrict her to the ground. Two of his most beautiful paintings are portraits of Jimmy Lynch. One (The Swinger, 1969) shows him on a porch swing looking off into the dis-tance; the other (Afternoon Flight, 1970) catches him similarly absorbed. What is it on the horizon that draws his gaze?2 This most American artist explores a dimension of our existence that I would consider to be a central ingredient in prayer. In what follows, I want to explain how longing or desire is at the heart of prayer and how desire has fared in our recent American experience. Finally, I will sug-gest a way to address the particular challenge that faces us as American 664 Prayer as Desire / 665 women and men of prayer. No one has explained better than Saint Augustine how desire is re-lated to prayer. Sometime at the beginning of the fifth century, Augustine received a letter from Proba, a Roman woman whose husband had just died.3 Her purpose in writing was to ask a simple question: can you tell me something about prayer that would be helpful? In his response, Augustine writes unexpectedly at great length about widowhood and then tries to explain how it relates to prayer. For example, he says to Proba: What characteristic of widows is singled out if not their poverty and deso-lation? Therefore, insofar as every soul understands that it is poor and desolate in this world, as long as it is absent from the Lord, it surely commends its widowhood, so to speak, to God its defender, with con-tinual and most earnest prayer (p. 400). Augustine very simply reminds Proba that her widowhood, that is, her experience of loss and especially her desire for presence once again, is a precious opportunity to learn about prayer. If you would want to pray, Augustine seems to be saying, begin with the experience of desire or longing. Augustine, then, defines prayer primarily as desire. Words and pi-ous activities, which we normally think of as prayer, are useful only to the extent that they intensify our desire for God. They are necessary, he writes, so that we may be roused and may take note of what we are asking, but we are not to believe that the Lord has need of them . Therefore, when we say "Hallowed be thy name," we rouse ourselves to desire that his name, which is always holy, should be held holy among men and women also . . . (p. 391). Desire then is synonymous with prayer. In relating the two in that way, Augustine teaches us three very important lessons about prayer. First, prayer is really very simple. It is as natural for human beings as desire is. And desire, as we all know, is a universal human experience. It is as natural for a person to pray as it is for a person to desire. And a person who desires is a person who can pray. Second, by defining prayer in terms of desire rather than in terms of methods or formulas or actions, Augustine more clearly situates it as a function of the human heart. There is little that is more personal to us or that we are more hesitant to divulge than our desires. And Augustine would have us understand that it is precisely in that most intimate and personal place that prayer is born and grows. 666 / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 Finally, by relating prayer to desire, Augustine helps us to under-stand that we can grow in prayer, for taking our desires seriously is a stimulus to such growth. He develops this idea in his letter to Proba and most especially in the Confessions. To Proba he writes: God wishes our desire to be exercised in prayer that we may be able to receive what he is preparing to give (1 Co 2:9) . Therefore, it is said to us: "Be enlarged, bear not the yoke with unbelievers" (2Co 6:13, 14), (p. 389). Desire helps to enlarge the heart. Augustine would claim that by fan-ning the flame of desire, we will become more able to recognize God's gift when it is offered and to appreciate it to the extent that it deserves. In the Confessions Augustine explains even more clearly how tak-ing our desires seriously is a stimulus to growth in prayer and can lead to deeper faith and intimacy with God. These desires are a complex re-ality ["Who can unravel that complex twistedness?" (II, 10)4] But rather than shy away from the complexity, Augustine sets out on a long journey precisely to get to the bottom of those desires. He goes all the way back to his earliest desire for the milk from his mother's breast, then recalls the games of his youth, and also the longing for wisdom when he read Cicero. With anguish, he remembers the burning desires that char-acterized his early relations and the resistance he put up to other desires lurking in his heart. "My soul turned and turned again, on back and sides and belly, and the bed was always hard" (VI,16). Augustine's long journey through the labyrinth of his soul was marked by a painful experience of desires at war with each other, but even more so by a confidence that the battle waged in all honesty and with his friends would lead to a liberation of his deepest desire, one that he came to understand could only be satisfied by God. "Behold thou art close at hand to deliver us from the wretchedness, of error and estab-lish us in thy way, and console us with thy word: 'Run, I shall bear you up and bring you and carry you to the end' " (VI, 16). Augustine took all of his desires seriously, even those that troubled him and brought him to tears, because he believed that all of them were in some way, at times in some distorted ways, a path to the deepest craving of the human heart. He seemed sure of God's love and also confident that deep within his own heart was an enormous love for God: "Thou hast made us for thy-self." (Confessions I, 1). Those are convictions we all find hard to come by, but they are crucial for growth along the way of prayer. To summarize then and to make the point clearly: for Augustine prayer is not more complicated than giving free rein and full expression Prayer as Desire / 66"/ to the sometimes confused desire for God that God has placed in our hearts. As he writes in his commentary' on the first letter of St. John: "Love and do what you will." Or perhaps I can say: "Desire and do what you will." Now, that may sound simple, but there are a few complicating fac-tors, some of which Augustine was aware of. Many of the complicating factors, however, are particular to our own time and culture; they are the shadow side of the cultural qualities we cultivate in the United States. One of the recent most popular movies, Dead Poets Society, is a se-rious indictment of American culture. It tells the story of a private pre-paratory school in the United States in 1959, where faculty and student body alike hold in highest esteem the pursuit of successful careers and high social status. Along comes an eccentric poetry teacher, effectively portrayed by Robin Williams. He succeeds in opening a few sleepy, even blind eyes, urges his students to ("carpe diem") "seize the moment," and awakens them to the excitement of poetry. Dull, distracted boys be-come spirited young men full of powerful desires. They found their own secret society where dead poets--and dead students-~come back to life. The movie was successful, I suppose, because it touched a sensitive chord in our American hearts. Though we are reluctant to admit this, the movie helped us see that we might be dull people, men and women with-out longing, without desire. But you might object: "Doesn't every human being desire some-thing?" As I reflected on the movie, I came to understand that for a va-riety of reasons and in different ways desire has been drained from our hearts. I could see it happening in four or five different ways. At other times and in other contexts, I might present the following items in a much more positive vein, as qualities that are proper to us as Americans. But in the context of this discussion on desire, what might be consid-ered the merits of our particular American way of living and looking at things becomes a liability. 1) In our day, in this country, by hard work, ingenuity, abundant natu-ral resources and a little bit of luck, we have attained a level of material satisfaction that enables us to meet most of our needs. We acknowledge that there are unsatisfied needs in us, but we are also confident that the only kinds of needs we have are needs that we can eventually satisfy our-selves. And if it takes too long to satisfy them, we energetically look for and usually find other remedies; there are many "quick fixes" we can turn to. But then if all the needs are satisfied, what is there left to de-sire? I am not simply condemning American materialism, nor am I re- Review for Religious, September-October 1990 ferring here to the unrestrained pursuit of pleasure and sensual satisfac-tion. Instead, I am suggesting 'that the level of material security we en-joy may be having a subtle, debilitating effect on our capacity to long for less material goods. When the Israelites complained to Jeremiah that it would be preferable to return to Egypt rather than remain in exile, he urged them to stay where they were for Yahweh was with them. Instead, however, they returned to Egypt "where at least they would not hun-ger" (Jr 42:1~4). It is not pleasant to be hungry, but can we live without desire? We can call this sort of person "the comfortable self," and the "comfortable sell'' has few desires. 2) Today especially we seek to be creative and responsible members of the human race. We are inclined to set aside as somewhat irrelevant and escapist distractions those vague interior Iongings that apparently can never be satisfied: there is too much in the world to do and no time to lose. We tend to set aside the simple and less gifted i~mong us and have little patience for wasted time and effort. In Bonfire of the Vanities, Tom Wolfe would say that our ambition is to be a "Master of the Universe," and we are convinced we just might succeed. The "creative, functional sell''has little time or. need for vague longings and can realize his desires by rolling up his sleeves. 3) Psychology has helped us uncover, identify, and explain many of our desires. But Freud would also have us demystify these desires, re-duce them to understandable drives, and either "manage" them so they do not interfere or banish them completely. The "psychological sell" runs the risk of reducing desires to insignificance by denying them the possibility of any transcendent origin, significance, or purpose. 4) Dead Poets Society points an accusing finger at a society drained of desire and life. But I think the movie suffers from the sickness it is trying to identify. Note the poets that are quoted in the movie: they are almost exclusively what we call the romantic poets. Other sections of the poetry anthology used by the students are ripped out. No mention of Shakespeare or Homer, Milton or Hopkins. Why should we read poetry, according to this movie? For the excitement of it, I gather. The movie seems to say: it does not really matter what you give your life to as long as you feel passionately enough to give your life. I admire the passion, but it is a self-destructive passion, self-preoccupied, narcissistic. Really, in the end, no passion at all. The desires of the "romantic sell'' self-destruct in a beautiful, but tragically brief burst of flame. 5) Finally, a word about the "tolerant sell'' and what that, in its most recent form, has done to desire. In many ways I consider this to Prayer as Desire / 669 be the most serious attack on desire in our day, and I will discuss it at greater length.5 The founders of our country, acutely aware of the reasons for which Europeans came to these shores and the political struggle that led to in-dependence, enshrined the principles of freedom and equality at the heart of our Constitution. They did so in revolt against oppression in the coun-tries they came from, to assure that in this new regime each person would be free to profess and practice the religion of one's choosing or none at all. In order to assure that no one religion would be given ascendancy and that all religions would be considered equally valid. Such liberty and equality imply a prior commitment to tolerance. As Locke had earlier suggested,6 not only does tolerance forestall religious wars and oppression, it would seem to be synonymous with Christian char-ity. We should hesitate to tamper with a doctrine such as that of toler-ance, which has brought us many blessings, but there may be some side effects that need to be taken into account. If tolerance leads us to assert that all religions are equally valid, then it seems inevitable that at some point one will begin to wonder whether it is worth embracing this par-ticular religion rather than another., or any at all. Tolerance as the paradigmatic American virtue in religious matters erodes conviction and desire; it all too often leads to indifference and loss of confidence.7 Let me explain with a non-religious example. For one person, work-ing hard to provide housing for the homeless is an important "value"-- to use that word as we are accustomed to using it today. For another per-son, earning a million dollars a year and dining at a 4-star restaurant five nights a week is a "value" she or he would hold to with as much, per-haps even more vigor. In a society where tolerance is the paramount vir-tue and where there can be no criteria for ranking so-called "values," our social worker has no right to consider his "value" more important than that of the millionaire. I think that is the conclusion we have to draw, and my guess is that our "tolerant" selves would be reluctant to draw any other. In that case, I could easily imagine the social worker, returning home after a frustrating fifteen-hour day, and exclaiming in quiet desperation: "why bother?" If all "values" are equal, our social worker will begin to doubt the real worth of what she or he is doing and be drained of passion or desire for the cause being promoted. Tolerance is a great American virtue. It protects us from oppression and even allows us to be critical of the regime. But the brand of toler-ance practiced today also exacts a high price. It can drain our soul of all 670 / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 passion. Without passion or desire, the "tolerant self' will find it very difficult to pray. The comfortable self, the creative self, the psychological self, the ro-mantic self, the tolerant self--so many ways in which desire has been disarmed. It has been disarmed or short-circuited. What keeps desire alive has been eliminated. Etymologically, the word "desire" with its reference to "sidera," the stars, suggests that without an object that tran-scends the self, desire that is not created by the self, or under its con-trol, or in any way dependent upon the self, desire quickly evaporates. I think the social and political consequences of diluted or disarmed de-sire have been considerable, but in the context of this discussion I want to draw attention to the consequences for our faith and our prayer as well. So, how do we recover desire? The question is an old one. It already appears in the Gospel. But, as I have tried to explain above, our American context leads us to pose it in a particularly acute way. It should not come as a surprise that since we Americans are closest to the problem that it is we Americans who have also hit upon a solution. I think that Alcoholics Anonymous and its 12-step program, begun in this country some fifty years ago, may be helping us rediscover desire and could be more helpful to those wanting to pray than any crash course on meditation.8 This may come as a surprising suggestion. But consider some of the more traditional methods used to foster growth in prayer. Among the early desert fathers and mothers, one popular and effective method (known in the Russian Orthodox tradition today as "starchestvo") is a practice whereby the novice reveals to his spiritual master all of his in-terior thoughts and feelings and humbly seeks help in discerning what God calls him to through these apparently confused experiences.9 Augustine himself sought to grow in prayer by telling story after story of how he pursued one way then another in search of happiness and peace. Ignatius of Loyola in the sixteenth century devised a system of spiritual exercises, whereby the one seeking to grow spiritually reveals the promptings of his heart to a spiritual guide who helps him interpret and discern the desires that will lead to growth. Ignatius even urged that his followers, members of his Society, regularly "manifest their con-science" to their superiors, much like the monks in the desert, in order to gain enlightenment. Those are the traditional methods of spiritual growth, but for some reason today for many they are not working, or we are not inclined to take them seriously. But many are taking the 12 steps seriously. One of Prayer as Desire / 671 the insights on which the 12-step method is based is the importance of recounting, at a meeting or to a sponsor, the story of one's desires-- desires for alcohol, for sex, for food, desires that have run out of con-trol, but also a desire, perhaps only a small spark at the outset, but a de-sire for sobriety. It is in the telling and the retelling of the story that the desires are sorted out, that the healthiest sparks are fanned into stronger flames, and that one begins to come to deeper serenity and happiness. Why does the 12-step program work? Because I begin to name desires rather than blindly accede to them, proudly condemn them, or run from them in fear. Because I acknowl-edge that a power greater than I alone guides human affairs, inspires hu-man desires, and fulfills the deepest among these: the desires I can sat-isfy will not bring peace to a restless heart. Because I acknowledge that in addition to that power other people are necessary to test my desires and help me keep the best alive. Because I know that helping others will intensify my own desire at the same time as it helps another. I cannot explain adequately in this context the effectiveness of the 12-step program. I am grateful to those friends and confreres who have given me some understanding of the 12 steps and for their own witness to the program's power. They could better make the point I want to make. Beneath the program is an understanding of life deeply consonant with the Gospel and, I would maintain, profoundly nourishing for one's life of prayer. Remember Augustine's words to Proba: Insofar as every soul understands that it is poor and desolate in this world as long as it is absent from the Lord, it surely commends its wid-owhood, so to speak, to God its defender, with continual and most ear-nest prayer (p. 400). Prayer is impossible if you start from a distorted understanding of the Gospel. As Americans, our comfortable self may be too sated to seek a Savior, our creative self may lead us to think we can save ourselves, our psychological self may convince us that the desire for a Savior is escapism, our romantic self may consider the desire an end in itself, our tolerant self may think open-ness and tolerance are identical with love. The Gospel, the writings of Augustine, and the 12-step program re-flect both more skepticism and more confidence about human nature than any of these false selves. They are not so afraid or angry with their hu-manness that they deny or disregard their desires, but they do not accept 672 / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 that responding to the most pressing desires will necessarily lead to the greatest happiness. They are deeply confident that their deepest desires can be satisfied, but have surrendered the illusion that they can or must explain or satisfy those desires on their own. They, like St. Paul, refuse to judge and condemn themselves, and certainly not others, but they cou-rageously and unambiguously name the desire that has led them to dis-aster and they can say: "My name is Richard or John or Dorothy, and I am an alcoholic!" Many are seeking new ways to pray, and a 12-step meeting is hardly an ancient method. But if I were to suggest the practices of sacramental confession or spiritual direction as ways to grow in prayer, many would not take note. Something has happened to our traditional practices or our use of them that has made them seemingly ineffective. What I am sug-gesting is that the 12-step program with its emphasis on confession/ story telling, community, and commitment to service--is a contempo-rary method that I feel convinced can teach us how to pray. I cannot help but believe that God is attentive to the simple prayer of a recovering al-coholic, a wounded person full of desire, who speaks with the words of the psalmist: God, you are my God, for you I long. For you my soul is thirsting. My body pines for you like a dry, weary land without water. So I gaze on you in the sanctuary to see your strength and your glory, for your love is better than life. My lips will speak your praise, so I will bless you all my life. NOTES ~ A first version of this paper was presented as the keynote address for a Conference at Assumption College, Worcester, Massachusetts, entitled "Prayer--A Psychologi-cal Perspective." I am grateful to the organizers of the Conference, Dr. George Scar-lett and Rev. Edgar Bourque, A.A., for their invitation to address the Conference. 2 These paintings are reproduced in Davis McCord and Frederick A. Sweet, Andrew Wyeth (Boston: Museum of Fine Arts, 1970). 3 Quotations from Augustine's letter are taken from The Fathers of the Church-- Saint Augustine: Letters Vol. II (New York: Fathers of the Church, Inc. 1953). 4 Quotations from the Confessions are taken from the translation by Frank J. Sheed in The Confessions of St. Augustine (London: Sheed & Ward, 1984, original edition 1944). 5 Although many have discussed this notion, the most thorough and cogent discus-sion recently is in the book by Allen Bloom, The Closing of the American Mind (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1987). 6 See John Locke, A Letter Concerning Toleration, ed, by James H. Tully (Indian- Prayer as Desire / 1573 apolis: Hackett Publishing Co., 1983). 7 In J. Hector St. John Crevecoeur, Letters from an American Farmer, (New York: Fox, Duffiealad and Company, 1904, reprinted from the original 1782 edition), pp. 64-65, we read an eighteenth-century account of religion in America. After describ-ing in letter no. 3 the variety of creeds cultivated in the country, the author contin-ues: "Each of these people instruct their children as well as they can, but these in-structions are feeble compared to those which are given to the youth of the poorest class in Europe. Their children will therefore grow up less zealous and more indif-ferent in matters of religion than their parents. The foolish vanity, or rather the fury of making Proselytes, is unknown here; they have no time, the seasons call for all their attention, and thus in a few years, this mixed neighborhood will exhibit a strange religious medley, that will be neither pure Catholicism nor pure Calvinism. A very perceptible indifference even in the first generation will become apparent." 8 A good deal of Alcoholics Anonymous literature deals with prayer and spiritual-ity. The eleventh step explicitly encourages the practice of prayer and meditation ("We sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood him, praying only for knowledge of God's will for us, and the power to carry that out.") But the program can have even broader implications for the spiritual life. See "Origins of A.A. Spirituality" by Dr. Ernie Kurtz, The Blue Book, Vol. XXXVIII, Proceedings from the 38th Annual Symposium-June 16- 20, 1986 (January, 1987). Catholic writers and lecturers are beginning to discuss the spiritual potential of the program. See, for example, the recently released confer-ences of Father Richard Rohr, "Breathing under Water: Spirituality and the 12 Steps" (Saint Anthony Messenger Press Audiocassettes, 1989). 9 See B, Pennington, O.C.S.O., O Holy Mountain.t (Wilmington: Michael Glazier, 1984), p. 92. The Emptiness Within Barbara Dent Barbara Dent, mother and grandmother, has been for eighteen years a Secular Carmelite. One of her most recent books has been The Gifts of Lay Ministry (Ave Maria Press, 1989). Her address is Postinia: 7A Cromwell Place; Pukekohe, New Zealand. Ours is an age of space-consciousness and space exploration. These have induced an awareness of a limitless beyond that can be terrifying. We know that in space universe extends beyond universe in an infinitude of expanding galaxies. The immensity is beyond our comprehension. Ours is also an age of inner exploration of our own human psyche. Depth psychology probes level on level of inner awareness, submerged awareness, and non-awareness. These probings link up with that aspect of spirituality which mystically intuits the indwelling of the Trinity, the homeliness of God in us that Jesus spoke of and promised to his faithful followers the night before he died. Just as there is endless mystery in the outer universe, so there is also in the inner one. God dwells in us--if we long for him and prepare our spiritual house to receive him. Not only that, but he permeates our inner being further and further as we open ourselves to receive him. "How rich are the depths of God!" exclaimed St. Paul. And it is these very depths that merge with our own through the divine penetra-tion and the graces it brings. This is by no means always a consoling experience. On the contrary it can seem to hurl us into an abyss of unmeaning which is caused by our incapacity to understand divine meaning and purpose in all their in-finite inclusiveness. Only faith can cope with the apparent absurdity, and too often in this state we experience ourselves as lamentably lacking in faith. 674 The Emptiness Within / 675 In this article I examine and comment on this negative aspect of di-vine and human intermingling by using the concept of "the inner Void." Normally, we human beings fill our days and nights with the busi-ness of living, working, playing, and social interchange. This is the way it has to be if society is to continue and be dynamic. For committed Chris-tians this day-to-day living and doing is permeated with another dimen-sion- that of being-in-Christ. The more fully they relate mundane ac-tivities to loving and serving the Lord, the more Christocentric their lives become. The more they cleave to him, the more the Trinity enters into their inner selves through the purity of their intentions, so that they truly become temples of the Holy Spirit. A pure intention is one that is centered on what Jesus stressed must be our fundamental option--"God's will, not mine, because I love him with my whole being." Strangely, the intensity of such a single-minded love can lead not to a blissful sense of fulfillment, but to its opposite-- an experience of crucifying inner emptiness, a void of unappeasable long-ing crying out for a God who appears not to care or even answer. How much longer will you forget me, Yahweh? Forever? How much longer will you hide your face from me? How much longer must I en-dure grief in my soul, and sorrow in my heart by day and by night? (Ps 13:1-2). The ache for God, disguised as it may be in a multitude of ways, yet seems to be endemic to the human heart. In Christ's followers it can be-come so insistent that it rules their lives. After many years of loving, faith-ful service to this object of their desire, a paradoxical inner state is likely to develop. The searcher for the pearl of great price and the glorious lib-erty of the sons and daughters of God, though consumed with an intol-erable yearning for God, now experiences him as absent just when he is loved and longed for most. This is usually a sign of the call to a much deeper relationship with him, one that has a different quality from any that preceded it. We are drawn by the Spirit into this state of being when all created things have lost their power to compel or fulfill us. We have learned, often in bitterness and pain, that none of them can supply anything but a temporary and partial satisfaction. Behind and through them we have kept glimpsing their Creator, and now he fills our vision and summons us to come closer. We have begun floating in our inner Void, sure at last that only his love can fill it. 676 / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 Aware that he is calling and drawing us, we want with all our will to respond, yet we remain thwarted. Yearn and strive as we may, we can neither reach nor receive him. Empty and grieving, we experience him as the absentee God, yet we have never in our lives been more free of sin and fuller of love than we now are. Why has this Void opened at the very time when we are possessed by love-longing for God? To anyone familiar with the inner depth reality of the subconscious and unconscious, the answer will make sense. The roots of our attachments to what God has created, and the causes of our persistence in letting them come between us and him, are still bur-ied deep within us. They fasten us down to where we are so that we are unable to soar in freedom to him. Though we have done all in our power, with the help of grace, to love and serve him, and though deliberate sin of any kind has long been eliminated from our living, the roots of sinful tendencies remain there hidden away, so that we are not even conscious of them. We cannot locate or name them, let alone wrench them out or dissolve them away. In our impotence and humiliation we gradually re-alize only God can do this through his own mighty love and the grace he pours into us through his Spirit. Only his action can gradually dilate our hearts so that they are able to receive more and more of what he offers. Only his grace can pene-trate into our subconscious to reveal what is concealed there. Only it can in various ways impel upwards into consciousness what is hidden. Only his Spirit of Wisdom knows and can reveal to us in ways we can accept what must be made conscious and purified if we are to enter into full un-ion with the Trinity. By invading our depths, the Spirit is not violating our free will, for God knows our longing for him is such that at last we are prepared to let him have his way with us, no matter how much it hurts. "Oh God, my God, for you my heart yearns, like a dry, weary land without water" (Ps 63:1 ). God's answer to our yearnings is to fill our Void with himself. This process is purgatorial. After death we pass outside time and space into eternity and infinity. If at this transition we are not already filled with God, our Void goes with us. No one has returned to tell us how God deals with it then, but traditionally the Church has taught the doctrines of purgatory (a cleansing process through which grace fits us to receive and behold God), and hell, where our Void remains just that forever. All those, known and unknown, who have become saints before they died, The Emptiness Within / 677 have had their Voids filled with God in this life. Some have left records of what their experience was like, and these indicate something at least of what they endured under the Spirit's ruthless but perfectly loving ac-tion. St. John of the Cross's testimony is probably the most authoritative, instructive, and detailed, After stressing that this state of purification is one of darkness and pure faith, he elaborates as below. "The Divine assails the soul in order to renew it and thus to make it Divine; and, stripping it of the habitual affections and attachments of the old man, to which it is very closely united, knit together and con-formed, destroys and consumes its spiritual substance, and absorbs it in deep and profound darkness. As a result of this, the soul feels itself to be perishing and melting away, in the presence and sight of its miseries, in a cruel spiritual death, even as if it had been swallowed by a beast (as Jonas was). (and) in this sepulcher of dark death it must needs abide until the spiritual resurrection which it hopes for. ". But what the sorrowful soul feels most in this condition is its clear perception, as it thinks, that God has abandoned it, and, in his ab-horrence of it, has flung it into darkness. It is a grave and piteous grief for it to believe that God has forsaken it . For indeed when this pur-gative contemplation is most severe, the soul feels very keenly the shadow of death and the lamentations of death and the pains of hell, which consist in its feeling itself to be without God, and chastised and cast out, and unworthy of him; and it feels that he is wroth with it" (Dark Night II, Ch. VI, 1 & 2). The intensity and pain of this inner experience of the Void will vary according to the strength and depths of our sin-roots, the greatness of our love and longing for God, our perseverance and abandonment during the process, the degree of holiness (or wedding garment splendor and soar-ing freedom) God intends for each sufferer. This purpose of his is, of course, hidden in the mystery of his endless love, of which the Void it-self is but one aspect. If the Void is endured until the process of cleansing and freeing is completed, we have been through and emerged from our own personal purgatory. We are united with the Trinity in what has been called "trans-forming union" ("I live, now not I, but Christ lives in me") or "the spiritual marriage." "Alleluia! The reign of the Lord our God the Almighty has begun. Let us be glad and joyful and give praise to God, because this is the time for the marriage of the Lamb. His bride is ready, and she has been able Review for Religious, September-October 1990 to dress herself in dazzling white linen, because her linen is made of the good deeds of the saints" (Rv 19:7-8). Our Void has been emptied of self and filled with Christ. What are some of the hallmarks of this emptying and filling of the Void, in the here and now? Here is a commentary on a few of the main ones. 1. Helpless Waiting In the Void we have no alternative but to wait. I think of Mary be-tween the annunciation and the birth of Jesus. She knew she had con-ceived and that the Christ of God was growing and developing within her, but the process was and had to remain hidden and secret. What she did not know was exactly what and who the child would prove to be. God was at work in her, and she was co-operating pas-sively, through her fiat, by letting it happen and trusting him about the outcome of his labors. She was "full of grace" and so the whole pro-cess was under the Spirit's complete control. Her personal contribution was to stay still and see what eventuated. Once the Void opens in us, we too, must wait while Christ is formed in us in his fullness. We continue to live and love as Christians, to serve God and neighbor in our work, personal relationships, duties and offer-ings, all aimed at renewing the temporal order and purifying our lives from self-love and self-seeking. We have been doing these things for a long time and had assumed we would be persevering in them in much the same way till death. We do persevere, but not "in the same way." For now the Void is there, and we begin to enter a new dimension and level of being. Gradually grace enlightens us so that we understand something of what still needs to be done in our inner depths to open us to God so he can penetrate further. At the same time we are shown how it is beyond our own capacity and resources to bring about such a self-exposure. A chasm of helplessness and poverty gapes within us. We realize that in our frozen immobility we are still able to act in one specific way. We can let God act, and stay passive ourselves. We can let him do the un-veiling and the choosing, for us and in us in his own way and time. Our role is to surrender and wait. And wait. And wait . Waiting is a difficult art to learn and practice in our frenetically ac-tive and materialistic age. Neither our environment, education nor life aims and circumstances have prepared us for it. Though we try, we go The Emptiness Within on failing, because we cannot help interfering with God in spite of our best intentions. Humbled, we learn that only grace can enable us to learn this painful art. Under its influence, we slowly begin to relax and be still, and our Void gently opens wider in faith, trust, and hope. We realize how im-portant patience is, how lost we are if God does not help us, how he does not and cannot do so unless we deliberately exercise our free will and let him. Here the active and the passive merge. As we go on waiting, our helplessness deepens into a sense of im-potence. We are rather like quadriplegics who must depend on others for most of their needs. If they are not to be consumed with self-pity and rage, they must turn the necessary waiting that forms an indelible part of their lives into an art. We ourselves are not waiting for other people to help us, but for God. "I waited and waited for Yahweh. Now at last he has stooped to me and heard my cry for help" (Ps 40:1). 2. Longing for God Thirst for God consumes us in this state. "As a doe longs for run-ning streams, so longs my soul for you, my God. My soul thirsts for God, the God of my life" (Ps 42:1-2). We are like "a dry, weary land without water" (Ps 63:1). When two lovers are parted, they long ardently and painfully for each other's presence. In the Void we experience God as an absentee God, even as one who spurns us. We are hopelessly in love with him-- we would not have been invited by the Spirit into this level of being were it not so--yet he seems to be denying himself to us, to be teasing us cru-elly on purpose. We know he is there, believethis is so, and in some indescribable, formless way even experience him as indeed with us, enfolding us, and yet we never seem to reach or catch sight of him. In his absence we have faith he is present, but this is no comfort. It is like being alone in a completely dark room, yet having an intui-tive awareness of another Presence with us in the same enclosed space. We cannot see or touch him or even hear his breathing. Yet, shiveringly, we are completely certain Someone is with us. Perhaps because of this strange certainty, our longing that is never appeased intensifies until it possesses us. This absentee yet ever-present God and Lover we experience as capricious, so that our longing is a form of bitter suffering, and often we have to struggle against feelings of re- Review for Religious, September-October 1990 sentment and hopelessness. We challenge him, "It is you, God, who are my shelter. Why do you abandon me?" (Ps 43:2). There is no answer, no comfort. The silence is absolute, our hunger unappeased. In the end, we become dumb. Our patience in waiting has deepened as our longing intensified. We understand the time for consum-mation is not. yet, for we are not ready. We see that our longing is a grace, given to us so we will more readily submit to an even more radi-cal emptying out. We have not yet reached that total nakedness o.f un-selfed love which will indicate our readiness to be clothed in Christ. We have yet to long for this for his sake, his honor and glory, the fulfilling of his incarnational aims, instead of for our own self-gratifica-tion, and our pleasure in our own "holiness." At last we understand that our motives need radical purification, for they are laced together every-where by tenuous, yet tough strands of self-love and self-will. All holiness is God's. Of ourselves we have none until we have put on Christ and can glory in his glory, and love with his love. Our longing is being purified till this is what we truly want above all else. 3. Loss of Meaning and Purpose Whether it is a cause or a result of the Void is hard to say, but one of the hallmarks of this state is loss of meaning and purpose on one level, and final regaining of it on another. The loss shows itself in our life situ-ation in doubts and disillusionments about our personal relationships, and our aims, activities, and ambitions to do with worldly matters. What preoccupied us and fed our drive in our work now seems taw-dry and not worth all this effort. We question its reality and its right to absorb so much of our energy, to demand and receive our concentrated attention. Has it the right to fasten us so securely to the daily grind when God's insistent call to another level of being is there in the background all the time, distracting us? Of what use is "getting to the top"? Winning that big increase in salary? Being treated with respect and deference as the one who "has it all at her fingertips," the indispensable manager and organizer? There are times when we ardently want to "throw it all away" be-cause it seems so fatuous. Yet we know we cannot opt out, for we have a spouse to be faithful to, offspring to put through university, the mort-gage to pay off, obligations to associates to fulfill, our own lifelong am-bition to bring to its triumphant peak, a whole life pattern to round off harmoniously. Somehow we have to learn to live with our growing awareness of it all as a mindless treadmill "full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." The Emptiness Within In the face of the Void, it lacks reality, but, nonetheless, must be at-tended to. The true reality is an indefinable something located in our inner emp-tiness. It is drawing us till we want to let go of everything else and reck-lessly jump into that abyss to meet its embrace. At this point some people have a breakdown so that circumstances force them to take a long rest from their life-in-the world obligations and ambitions. Others keep on mechanically, but their heart is no longer in it, and they feel nothing but relief when someone else replaces them or the time comes for them to retire. This disillusionment and lack of drive registers as a humiliating disaster, yet it may well be a special grace open-ing the way for us to concentrate on "the one thing necessary." Alarmingly, the problem increases, rather than diminishes, once we free ourselves enough for such concentration. It is like a slap in the face to discover that we cannot find "mean-ing" in the things of God either, though we dumbly and idiotically know the meaning is there somewhere, expressed in ancient Babylonian hiero-glyphics no doubt! (And no one taught us at school or in the boardroom how to interpret these!) Faced with the Void and its implications, we find ourselves unable to understand God's meaning and purpose in our own lives or those of others. His actions seem arbitrary and often absurd. In fact, a general senselessness defying the rational mind pervades the whole Void. We slither aimlessly about, till we remember the lesson about staying still and waiting. When we apply this perseveringly, we are able to accept that it is no wonder we cannot understand the divine meaning and purpose when it is infinite and eternal while we ourselves remain time and space im-prisoned. It is also perfect love and omniscient wisdom, while we are full of "lacklove" and distorted vision. During the years spent in the Void we slowly learn to rest in peace in God's incomprehensible will, to trust its apparent irrationality, to have faith in its aim to express his beneficent care of us in and through our life circumstances even when they appear to be nothing but "a tale told by an idiot," to hope doggedly in a future blessed by fulfillment in bliss-ful union with him. Our concept of life's meaning and purpose has changed radically as grace permeated those levels where our basic semi- and unconscious re-bellion and misapplied self-will lay hidden but potent. 4. The Darkness of Entombment Review for Religious, September-October 1990 In the Void we are in the process of dying with Christ and being bur-ied with him so that our life may be his life and we be hidden with him in God, our glory part of his (see Col 2:12, 3:2-4). When Jesus hung upon the cross, he was in a kind of void between earth and heaven: the vacant space left by total immolation for the sake of others; the blank of utmost loneliness and dereliction expressed through his cry of abandonment and desolation; the kenosis of the God- Man brought about by the complete surrender of his awareness of his God-ness, coupled with his immersion in his representative Man-ness--his slav-ery as sin-taker for us when he himself was sinless. In various degrees and ways we, his lovers and beloveds, are invited by him to enter into his crucifixion and kenosis with him so we may even-tually share his resurrection glory. We have to die to self by hanging there with and in him through the sufferings--physical, mental, psycho-logical, emotional, and spiritual that God permits to come to us, and that our own and others' sins and sinfulness bring upon us. After the crucifixion comes the interlude of the entombment before the resurrection can occur. The sense of entombment is an essential as-pect of the Void. If we think of Jesus' corpse lying still,, cold, and alone on the stone slab, we shall understand some of the basic elements of the spiritual state of those called to die with him in order to rise with him. There is the darkness of this stone cavern behind its stone door. No chink of light anywhere. It makes us feel our intellect has been blinded and we shall never understand anything about God again. Though we carry on with our daily lives more or less satisfactorily, we suffer a kind of sense-deprivation of the spirit, (Only those who have experienced this state of being will find meaning in this paradox.) One form of torture of prisoners is to lock them into a pitch dark cell where there is complete sense deprivation so that time ceases to have meaning, as does everything else. Entombed with Jesus, we are in a similar state because all the satis-factions and enjoyments that come to a human being through his senses of hearing, sight, smell, touch, and taste no longer have power either to distract or fulfill us. We have become one-purposed in our longing for God, and the senses cannot tempt us away from it with their promise of surface, ephemeral delights. Since we have renounced the lesser good for the greater, the Spirit obliges by paradoxically taking away their irrelevant enticements--in a spiritual sense. To express it otherwise, our senses and our bodies and The Emptiness Within/ all our material being continue to function adequately for the purposes of everyday life. However, in relation to the spiritual life, we have be-come numb and dumb to their joys, attractions and any urge to seek deep meaning and fulfillment through them. We have been brought to that State where we float in the Void of blind faith that none of our senses can affirm as a reality. We gaze upon God without seeing him. We hear his Word without understanding it. We taste his supportive love without any sweetness or consolation--as if our taste buds had been anesthetized. He is weaning us from all such reassurances by imprisoning us in this Void of sense deprivation. He means us to learn how to enter, unencum-bered, into the central mystery of his Being, spirit to Spirit. He has led us into the depths of the Night of Faith. In it, usually for years after painful years, we learn to lie down with the dead Jesus in the tomb. We learn to lie there patiently and wait in our nakedness. We learn what being still really means as we contemplate the Savior's unbreathing body--not with bodily eyes, but with spiritual ones of unquestioning faith and a love stripped of self-seeking. We are seeds fallen into the ground and undergoing the hidden meta-morphosis from which we shall at last emerge, essentially changed per-sons, into spiritual resurrection. 5. Loneliness The inner Void is a crucifyingly lonely space of nothingness. We shall probably find there is no one who can understand our state, except one who is also in it, or one who has endured it and emerged. The one in it may be able to offer sympathy and sharing. The one emerged can give reassurance, understanding, encouragement, guidance, support, and hope for the future. This is so only if she or he has some understanding of what the lonely one is passing through or has emerged from. Such un-derstanding is rare. The Void can have many guises, including those of mental, emo-tional, or physical breakdown. It is often mingled with factors associ-ated with these. It adapts itself to whatever needs to be purified in the particular sufferer, since it is always under the control of the Spirit. It is not easy, and almost impossible, to discover a fellow sufferer who is enduring the same searching trial in the same ways. A qualified, learned, compassionate spiritual guide who has had both personal experience of the Void and of supporting others immersed in it is a very special blessing from God--one that is seldom given. An es-sential part of learning to live at peace in the Void's faith dimension is Review for Religious, September-October 1990 that of being able to trust oneself blindly to the hidden guidance and con-trol of the Spirit coming directly instead of through an intermediary. The purification process includes enduring it alone with God--and an absen-tee God at that. The only sure and never-failing companion is Jesus in his passion, especially in Gethsemane and in his cry of dereliction on the cross. We can find here, in union with him, the strength and purpose to endure, to hang helpless and in agony in absurdity, giving oneself up out of love for his redemptive work, staying with, and in him gladly, for love of him, sharing his loneliness and comforting his desolation. This is anything but mere sentimentality, as anyone who has really done it knows. It is a genuine, self-obliterating response of "Yes" to his questions, "Will you drink of the cup I must drink of? . . . Will you watch one hour with me? . . . Will you take up your cross and follow ¯ me? . . . Will you give yourself with me for others? . . . Will you love my Father's will wholeheartedly as I do to the end? . . . Will you fol-low me wherever I lead? . . . Will you go down into the darkness and die with me and then wait with me in my tomb till resurrection morning comes? . . . Will you dare Sheol with me? o . ." If we agree to share his loneliness, we shall indeed be lonely, and in that desolation share the essential loneliness of all abandoned, help-less, despised, outcast, comfortless human beings whom he represented on the cross, as well as those lost in the black loneliness of habitual, sev-ering sin, or those immured in purgatory in this life or the next. We may have friends who love and try to comfort us, but this will do little to ease what is a loneliness of our very essence crying out for God. Only if they have been through it themselves will they be able to apply balm. In the ultimate there is only one who can fill the Void of loneliness with genuine fulfillment and it is God himself. He is busy preparing in us a place fit to receive him. All we can do is wait in faith, hope, and love that feel like unbelief, despair, and a numb indifference that will never be able to love again. "Out of the depths have I cried unto thee, O Lord. Lord, hear my voice!" 6. Awareness of Sin The Void strips away inessentials, leaving the emptiness of nothing to cling to but God--and in.bare, stubborn faith. Because the motes in our own eyes (our absorption in the secondar-ies of created things instead of the one primary necessity of God) have The Emptiness Within now been removed, at least partly, by grace, we see much better. One of the things we see with our new sight and in startling clarity is the re-ality of sin. Not so much actual sins--these are fairly obvious to discern and we have long ago trained ourselves to watch and guard against them in our own lives. No--what we now see with the eyes of our spirit enlightened by the Spirit is innate sinfulness. We become aware of its substratum in ourselves (those tangled "roots" I mentioned earlier), and in other hu-man beings we have to do with. We helplessly observe it issuing from us and them in all kinds of meannesses, envies, prevarications, self-delusions, self-loves, rationalizations. Squirming and humiliated, we face, with the help of grace, that, "This is me . . . that is the person I loved and revered so much . " If we do not take care, this pitiless insight will cause discouragement and fear in ourselves, and a judg-mental, condemnatory, disillusioned attitude towards others--even cyni-cism. The taste of this racial and personal basic sinfulness is bitter indeed. We want to spit it out and rush to grab something, sweet to gourmandize on and hide that vile flavor. We have been living all the time with a des-picable traitor within us, and till now we have never even glimpsed him. His cronies are present in all other members of the human race, and from them emanate the sorrows, sins, evils and disasters of living on this planet that has been tipped off its axis. Some of the penitential psalms now have for us as never before a co-gent, humbling, and intensely personal message. Paraphrasing a little, we cry with St. Paul, "Who will rescue me from this enemy within?" and reply with him, "Nothing else but the grace of God, through Jesus Christ, our Lord." We know now that we really do need a personal Savior, that we would be lost without Jesus, that an essential part of our Void experi-ence is acknowledging our personal, basic sinfulness for which the only cure is the grace that Jesus gives. We cry, "Lord, you came to save me-- because I needed you so much. I need you even more now you have shown me the truth about myself. Only show me what you want of me, and I will do it. I will do anything at all for you, my Lord and my Sav-ior, because you have rescued me in my great need." This time we really mean it, because we are so much closer to Truth itself. We have been given the grace of a genuine horror of sin because of what it did to Jesus, and still does to him suffering in his members. We long to help heal the wound of sin in his Body. We offer our per- Review for Religious, September-October 1990 sonal wound of sin to him, humbly pleading for the grace of healing. As never before we understand the cleansing power and action of grace, sac-ramentally and otherwise. We hunger for it, seek it, open ourselves wide to receive it. We become beggars for it. We learn what spiritual poverty really means, and again lie down with Jesus in the tomb, content to be naked, trusting in his Body and Blood to heal us of our grievous wound. We are learning what it means to be dead to self and alive to Christ and his members. In the inner Void the self becomes so tiny in the Allness of God. We do not lose our individuality, but we long for it to be absorbed in Christ, so that we become exactly that aspect of his extended incarnation and continuous passion destined for us by the Father. We pray for deliverance from all evil--for ourselves, and for every other human being. We pray fervently, for at last we have "seen" what naked sin and evil are, and what they bring about--the death of the Loved One. 7. We enter a state of Heroic Abandonment and Endurance. Our Void has opened up enough for us to receive the grace we must have to enable us to lie down in the Lord in a state of advanced inner stillness, trust, and hope. The Void's darkness begins to take on the faint glow of incipient dawn, the intense silence is broken by the first tenta-tive twitterings of birds as something soundlessly rolls away our tomb's stone door. The sense of being stifled eases and we draw deep breaths of sweet, cold, dew-drenched air. There is deep within us an awareness of wounds having been healed, of a terrifying emptiness having been filled with Someone, of Love himself annihilating loneliness forever, of a still, si-lent, crystalline joy, and blessedness welling up from deep, deep down, crying in exultation, "Abba! Alleluia! Amen!" Then we see a Person is walking like a king towards the light grow-ing and glowing every second in the tomb's open doorway. It is as if the light emanates from him, as if he is The Light. Wondering and worship-ping, we rise from our stone slab, gather about us the new white gar-ment we find there and follow the Light into the new day. There is no void of inner emptiness anymore. Christ risen and triumphant fills it with himself. Shame: A Barometer of Faith Clyde A. Bonar Father Clyde A. Bonar is a priest of the diocese of Orlando, Florida. He holds ad-vanced degrees in formative spirituality from Duquesne University and in political science from George Washington University. He has served as parochial vicar and administrator of various parishes. His address is St. Joseph of the Forest Catholic Church; 1764 S.E. 169th Avenue Road; Silver Springs, Florida 32688. Aristotle called shame "a feeling or emotion . a kind of fear of dis-grace."~ Interestingly, what one values and what one distains can pro-vide a source for these feelings of disgrace. This allows shame to become a barometer of faith. For the faithfilled person, lapses in living one's faith, for example, can be causes for shame. Conversely, one who scorns religion may find shameful any personal exhibition of faith in an Eter-nal Being. In this paper I shall examine the generic core of "shame" and re-late the experiences of shame in the life of Francis of Assisi (ca. 1182- 1226). Francis' well-known incidents with the lepers caused that saint feelings of shame. Notably, why Francis felt shame about the lepers dif-fered in the earlier and the later parts of his life. Because of that, Fran-cis becomes illustrative of how shame can be a barometer of one's faith. On Shame The Generic Core The core of the shame experience is a sense of exposure and visibil-ity. 2 First, shame is intimately linked to the need to cover that which might unwantedly be exposed. Experiences of shame involve the expo-sure of the peculiarly sensitive, intimate, and vulnerable aspects of the self.3 Something is to be hidden, dodged, or covered up; even, or per- 687 61~1~ / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 haps especially, from oneself. Feelings of shame included "I am weak" and "I am inadequate." The particularities of what must be covered to prevent exposure may vary widely and are individually determinate. For example, while a physical deformity caused Philip in Of Human Bondage4 to feel shame when his clubfoot was exposed, a deeper shame burned "in secret" as Dimmes-dale in Scarlet Letter saw Hester Prynne bear in public the blame for their joint carnal indiscretion .5 Socrates warns of the disgraceful shame of ap-pearing inept in the presence "of some really wise man.' ,6 Personally, for example, I have felt shame for the way I treated a traveling compan-ion during a three-day trip. Second, there is an intimate connection between shame and visibil-ity. 7 When Yahweh called to Adam after he and Eve had eaten the for-bidden fruit, Adam said: "Because I was naked . . . I hid" (Gn 3:11). In his phenomenology of shame, Jean-Paul Sartre claims that shame arises from the look of the Other. "Shame. is the recognition of the fact that I am indeed that object which the Other is looking at and judg-ing." 8 When another looks at him, Sartre comments: What I apprehend immediately., is that I am vulnerable, that I have a body which can be hurt, that I occupy a place and that I cannot in any case escape from the space in which I am without defense--in short, that I am seen.9 Everyday expressions repeat this connection between visibility and shame. We speak of being "shamefaced" or "hiding my face in shame" when others know our failures, inadequacies, or losses of con-trol. A Happy Blush Two other aspects of shame need to be kept in mind as we proceed: that the feeling of shame comes unexpected. That first and physiologi-cal manifestation of shame, the blush, highlights the involuntary and sud-den characteristic of shame. Helen Lynd is perceptive on this aspect of shame: Shame interrupts any unquestioning, unaware sense of oneself . More than other emotions, shame involves a quality of the unexpected: if in any way we feel it coming we are powerless to avert it . What-ever part voluntary action may have in the experience of shame is swal-lowed up in the sense of something that overwhelms us . We are taken by surprise, caught off guard, or off base, caught unawares, made a fool of. ~0 Shame / 689 In his illustration of the voyeur at the keyhole, Jean-Paul Sartre confirms the "immediate shudder" of being unexpectedly caught: "All of a sud-den I hear footsteps in the hall. Someone is looking at me!''~ Importantly, this self-consciousness contains a revealing capacity. Again, it is Sartre who captures this: "Shame is by nature recognition. I recognize that I am as the Other sees me." ~2 Shame carries the weight of "I cannot have done this. But I have done it and cannot undo it, be-cause this is 1.''13 The thing that is exposed is what I am. To "recognize" one's self is to be open to reformation, and there is the delight. Adrian van Kaam writes that "reformation implies a re-appraisal of formative and deformative dispositions, judgments, memo-ries, imaginations, and anticipations." ~4 If experiences of shame can be fully faced, if we allow ourselves to realize their import, they can inform the self and become a revelation of one's self. The question is exactly what personal disposition is revealed by the quick reddening of the blush, the sudden feeling of shame, this which involuntarily and unexpectedly just happens. Writing back in 1839 on The Physiology or Mechanism of Blushing, Thomas Burgess reported that the blush reflects "the various internal emotions of the moral feel-ings [so that one could] know whenever we transgressed or violated those rules which should be held sacred." He continued to point out that, given this "spiritual" nature of the "blush," it is "solely a moral stimulus that will excite a true blush.''15 That is~ it is our value system that is re-vealed by shame. For example, if I hold dispositions mostly congenial with the particular individual God designed me to be, a blush will reveal that there are also some uncongenial and not-reformed dispositions. Or, by contrast, if my fundamental orientation is that talk of God is mean-ingless I may blush at some scruples within my disposition constellation that would be more in agreement with faith in an Eternal Being. Among The Lepers The immediate question is what should not be exposed, what should be covered from visibility. Francis' experience with the lepers proves in-structive. In his "Testament" he wrote: The Lord granted to me, Brother Francis, to begin to do penance in this way: While I was in sin, it seemed very bitter to me to see lepers. And the Lord Himself led me among them and I had mercy upon them. And when I left them that which seemed bitter to me was changed into sweet-ness of soul and body.~6 This too brief statement includes all the elements of experiences of 690 / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 shame. Fallen Nature of Humanity By his words "While I was in sin" Francis refers to his youthful years. In his parents' home he enjoyed the easy life his successful father could provide. He was a most likable lad, clever, charming, smooth-talking, and insanely generous. Francis had a gift for business and seemed born to be a merchant like his father. The son enjoyed dressing with a studied elegance and entertaining at a good inn with the best of everything. Friends flocked around Francis when he appeared and played the troubadour with his Provencal songs. 17 One would say that Francis was reflecting the fallen nature of hu-manity common since the first sin of Adam, living in ignorance of the true transcendent nature of humanity. ~8 Caught in the competitive trade of the cloth merchant, his father taught Francis to live by that competi-tion. Escape in the exigencies and the excitement of being the business-man became a way of life, with questions of transcendence relegated to minor, occasional thoughts. Responsibility for being a faithfilled Chris-tian example for others was evaded, for the other was also typically the customer, who was to be sold something even if that meant a little de-ception and an excess of charm. Immersion in the sensual joys of life was a natural corollary in a society of, according to Pope Innocent III, "obscene songs, dances, and fornications." 19 Still, why was Francis affected by the lepers as he was? Other youths, his peers in cultural refinement and the easy life, would merely hold their noses when they smelled the horrible stench of the lazaretto where the lepers were confined, and unashamedly turn their horses a dif-ferent direction. But for Francis the human misery breathing death right into his face was incredibly disagreeable. And, the young clothier would experience shame when a wretched beggar would intrude.2° A clue to Francis at this early point in his life, while he was still "in sin," lies, I opine, in the phenomenology of shame. As we saw above, shame is an experience of the whole self: in moments of shameful expo-sure it is the self that stands revealed.2~ Existentialists state this force-fully: in the consciousness of shame, there is "a shameful apprehension of something and this something is me. I am ashamed of what I am . Through shame I have discovered an aspect of my being."22 The self that was standing revealed for Francis'was, in the terms of Adrian van Kaam, his foundational life form. The image of God deep within Francis was being exposed. Thomas Burgess, cited above, might say it was the internal moral feelings of Francis which were being ex- posed. As early as twelve years old Francis was struck in some special way by the elevation of the consecrated host during Mass. In the mud-dle of being dominated by his sensual and functional dimensions and his sociohistorical situations, the inchoate thunderbolt of the transcendent was there. But within the flamboyance and egotism of the sensuous and romantic party giver he appeared to be, Francis would feel shame when his more basic faith in God would protrude. His lifestyle hid from visi-bility the transcendent, as he took greater pleasure in identifying him-self as a prince of the world and knight of Assisi. As God's chosen who would become God's anointed, the young Francis would feel shame where others had no such self-consciousness. According to our paradigm of shame, what Francis's apparent life form, or way of being in his environment, sought to cover during these early years of his life was his foundational life form. When his "vul-nerability" or "inadequacy" was exposed, that is, his sensitivity to the sufferings of lepers and beggars, he felt shame at the "flaw," which was his deeper felt love of God, becoming visible through the cover of how he presented himself to others. Attuned to His God Francis was twenty-four when he stood in front of the episcopal pal-ace at Santa Maria Maggiore and stripped off his clothes in hot haste and threw them at his father's feet. God had seized him: the sinner faded to give way to the saint. But watching his second naked birth, the crowd fell silent, for this "erstwhile dandy" was seen to be wearing a hair shirt. "It was a hideous penitential device of horsehair for killing the instinct of sensuality and chastising the flesh day and night."23 The peni-tential hair shirt was a symbol for what had been happening for some time in Francis--the transformation from dissonance to consonance with the Eternal, a change from running away from God to running toward God. For our present emphasis, we might remember the words of Francis: "Bernardone is no longer my father," but Our Father who art in heaven. The words indicated his change. For Francis, shame is no longer from having love of God exposed within a life lived as a merchant, but henceforth the shame was in having any failure to love God exposed within a life of excited faith. Now, when Francis embraced the leper, as we quoted above in the words of Francis, "that which seemed bitter to me was changed into sweetness of soul." The contrast is sharp between the experiences of shame for Francis before and after his transformation. Upon encountering the so distaste- Review for Religious, September-October 1990 ful leper, "He slipped off his horse and ran to kiss the man . Filled with wonder and joy, he began devoutly to sing God's praises." He be-gan to render humble service to the lepers and "with great compassion kissed their hands and their mouths." Further, the lover of complete humility went to the lepers and lived with them. He washed their feet, bandaged their ulcers, drew the pus from their wounds and washed out the diseased matter; he even kissed their ulcer-ous wounds out of his remarkable devotion.24 Francis took the bold step of overcoming the conventional perception of what is attractive and what is repulsive by reaching out to love what re-pelled him. And the change in the source of shame was seen in other aspects of his life. When his pre-transformation apparent life form had dominated, Francis's selfish pride would tell him to feel deep humiliat

Issue 48.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1989. ; R~z,.'n~w vor R~.t~3~oos (ISSN 0034-639X) is publishcd bi-monthly at St. Louis University by thc Mis- ¯ souri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus; Editorial Office: 3601 Lindcll Blvd. Rm. 428: SI. l.x~uis. MO 63108-3393. Sccond-class postagc paid at St. Lxmis MO. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: $12.00 pcr year: $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail. add U.S. $5.00 per year; for airmail, add U.S. $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or changc of address, write: R~,.'u~w voa R~t.~Gous: P.O. Box 6070: Duluth. MN 55806. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to Rv:vtv:w v(m REI.I(;IOtJS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. David L. Fleming, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors Ma\'/June 1989 Volume 48 Number 3 Manuscripts, books fnr review and correspnndence with the editor should be sent to REvtEw wm Rr:t,t(;mt~s; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. la~uis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 l~eRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709-1193. Back issues and reprints shnuld be nrdered from R~:\'t~:w vo~ R~:~,nntms; 3601Lindell Blvd.; St. la~uis, MO 63108-3393. "Out nf print" issues are available frnm University Micrnfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major pnrtion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Snciety fnr the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. PRISMS . Color plays an important role in our human lives. Before modem psy-chological studies were done about color and its effect upon our human psyche, the Church emphasized color to highlight liturgical seasons and to enhance individual feast-day celebrations. Both the colors for deco-rating altar, tabernacle, and sanctuary and the colors for priestly vest-ments and stoles conveyed a mood or feeling of the season or feast. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS over the past ten years has distinguished its is-sues within any one volume by color. Willy-nilly, whether by foresight or only upon reflection, color for us, too, tends to have a certain sym-bolic relationship to the seasonal and liturgical placement of an issue. An obvious point can be made with the blue cover of this issue--a blue which is associated with Mary, Mother of God and Mother of the Church, and with her special identification with the month of May. In more recent times, the popular place of Mary in the devotional lives of Catholics has dimmed. The Vatican II renewal of our liturgy and sacramental celebrations necessarily focused our attention and re-education upon the central mysteries of our faith-life. Devotions in their myriad forms of litanies, novenas, vigils or holy hours, and various other pious practices--whether in honor of Mary or of any of the saints-- naturally received less attention during this period. Our time and ,our en-ergies were being re-directed so that we could recapture the Eucharistic celebration and the other celebrations of sacraments with all the fervor and participation that marked our popular devotions. It sometimes appeared that, with popular devotions less emphasized, Mary and the saints were also losing their place in Catholic life. Instead, this has been a time of nurturing fresh growth, with new insights and em-phases to invigorate and renew our faith-lives. The recent Marian year stands as a proclamation of the renewed understanding of Mary's place in the life of the Christian faithful. In this issue, we look through four different prisms at Mary. The first article is "Mary in Contemporary Culture" by Father Stan Parmisano, O.P. Just as Mary has played a distinctive role in the various ages of the Church, for example, in the "lady" ideal of the Middle Ages culture, so we need to ask how our relation to Mary facilitates our Christian re-sponse to.the issues and values prevalent in culture today. The author 321 399 / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 stimulates our own thinking about the hidden ways in which Mary might be said to be prevalent in our culture. The second article in this issue is "Through Mary" by Ms. Hilda Montalvo. As wife, mother, and teacher, Ms. Montalvo calls us all into a personal reflection upon what the dogmas about Mary mean to us. She points the way to seeing how Marian dogmas are necessarily Christian dogmas, helping us to clarify our own relationship with God and to en-rich the meaning of our human lives. Sister Mary Eileen Foley, R.G.S., writes the third article on Mary, raising the question in her title, "Reflections on Mary, Bridge to Ecu-menism?" In view of an existing Reformation tradition in which the honor given to Mary continues to divide Roman and Eastern Catholic and Orthodox Christian from the majority of other Christian churches, Sis-ter Mary Eileen suggests ways of seeing how a new understanding of Mary may well be in our day a true ecumenical bridge. The fourth article allows us all to pursue further at our leisure the most recent writings on Mary. Father Thomas Bourque, T.O.R., pro-vides us with a selected bibliography of writings about Mary which have been published between the time of Paul VI's exhortation, Devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary, and John Paul II's encyclical, Mother of the Redeemer. Hopefully this compact bibliography can serve as a helpful resource for a fresh and renewed understanding of Mary's role in the lives of Christian peoples. Finally, I will note that in a newly added section to our Book and Cassette Reviews area, called "For the Bookshelf," we have briefly noted the contents of a few books about Mary just recently published. I hope that you will find the occasional addition of this section to Re-views a help in highlighting those recently published books, which we want to note and can often group around certain themes or issues. David L. Fleming, S.J. Mary In Contemporary Culture Stan Parmisano, O.P. Father Stan Parmisano, O.P., is Regent of Studies for the Western Dominican Prov-ince. He teaches at the Graduate Theological Union in Berkeley, California in the area of Religion and the Arts. His address is 5877 Birch Court; Oakland, California 94618. ~ have been asked to specify the difference Mary, the Mother of Jesus, makes or can make in our contemporary culture. Let me first propose some principles, or basic thinking, that may help toward a fruitful dis-cussion of the complex of issues and subjects involved in the question. Afterwards, we may consider some of these particulars in terms of Mary and her possible role within them. We think of the presence or absence of Mary, as of Jesus, in terms of visibility or of imaginable or intelligible content. Thus if there is a dearth of "thinking" about Mary or of images of her, we would say that she is absent in our time; on the contrary, we would say that she was pre-sent in former times, especially in the medieval and early renaissance worlds, when she was quite "visible" in the content of theology, art, architecture, poetry, music. But there is another kind of presence: invis-ible, unconscious, the presence of form rather than content, the kind of presence we are asked to look for, say, in non-representational art or in music, or in poetry where the music or rhythm precedes idea and image and helps create them. t This is a presence of thrust, of dynamic, of spirit ¯ . . like that of the Spirit of God (ruach Elohim) hovering over the yet unformed waters of chaos and warming them toward visibility and life. I want to suggest that perhaps Mary is present here and there in our time in this last manner, and that we should strive to promote her more universal presence in this direction as well as in that of visible content. In fact, this is the direction in which we should seek to define culture 323 324 / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 itself. Culture is not a matter of any one specific content or subject or activity nor of all taken en masse. Rather, it is the inherited dynamism or spirit or form that produces each of them in all their various nuances, though it itself is affected and reshaped by them.z The same is true with regard to God and Jesus: it is not so much the content of our thought about them, not the images we have of them that is telling, but what un-derlies these, beyond thought and image, inspiring and shaping the con-tent of our belief. I would regard Mary in a similar way. In the earliest Church there was not, perhaps, much content or visibility of Mary, at least when com-pared to Jesus and his male disciples, to Paul and his entourage. But, to borrow an image from one of her later lovers, I would suggest that she was there from beginning to end as "atmosphere," as "world-mothering air, air wild," as form or spirit shaping the emerging thought and action of the Church.3 Certainly it was in her modest context, her "atmosphere," that Christ was preserved from mere myth and acknowl-edged as substantially and earthily human (so Paul's almost casual aside: "born of a woman"). By the late Middle Ages and early Renaissance that spirit had blossomed into a fullness of content. Then that content be-gan to harden till in some instances and locales it quenched the moving spirit and became identified with Mary. And could it be that Vatican II tried to recover her spirit, the "form" of Mary? If so, we must not mis-take what it had to say about Mary for the fullness of Mary but, with its beginnings, refocus on the thrust of Mary in our time and beyond. In speaking of Mary's presence in this way I would hope to suggest another presence, that of the Holy Spirit. Saint Maximilian Kolbe spoke boldly of Mary as the quasi-incarnation of the Holy Spirit, emphasizing the latter part of this hyphenation. Since then, less venturesome theolo-gians have accentuated the quasi.4 In any case few Catholic theologians will deny Mary's special and intimate relationship with the Spirit. They go hand in loving hand, indissolubly Wedded--not only because they were cooperatively together at the conception of Christ and later at the birth of the Church, but because they have a kind of natural affinity. Both are hidden, in the background as it were, but dynamically so, strik-ingly reemerging at critical moments in Jesus's adult years--as when the Spirit leads Jesus into the desert to prepare him for his ministry, and when Mary, waiting for Jesus "apart from the crowd," inspires in him the revolutionary declaration as to his true and lasting kindred (Mk 3:31 - 35). There are other shared characteristics. These are discoverable in cer-tain movements or thrusts of our time, and I suggest that we look here Mary in Contemporary Culture / 395 for the presence of Mary/Spirit in our time as well as in any explicit Marian theology or devotion. Some of these revelatory movements are as follows. The interiorization of religion. Certainly emphasis today is on the sub-jective aspect of belief and morality. Even those who rightly uphold the objectivity of belief and morals are concerned more than ever with lib-erty of conscience, personal and cultural limitations of understanding, the virtue of prudence and its largely intuitive functioning, the unique-ness of a given "situation," the restoration in one form or another of casuistry(the individual case). But interiorization, subjectivity, intuition are of the unpredictable Spirit "who blows where he wills" and of the traditionally feminine rather than of the predictably and predicting ra-tional and the traditionally masculine. Purged of all excess and distor-tion, they are, in other words, of the Holy Spirit and Mary. Contemplative prayer. In the last twenty to thirty years there has been in the western world a mounting interest in and practice of medita-tive prayer, sparked by eastern imports such as TM, Zen, Yoga, and now developed along lines of traditional Christian contemplation. This prayer is seen now to be not just for the select few, mainly among nuns and monks, but for all in whatever walk of life. Here is obviously another aspect of interiorization and the letting go of content in favor of a poised and expectant darkness. It is not a looking to what is outside (image, word, symbol, creed) but to what is within, to the private, personal "reve-lation," to what God is "saying" to me here and now--like a pregnant woman turned inward, quietly aware of the mystery growing within her. Here again is the Holy Spirit praying within us when, as St. Paul tells us (Rm 8:26-27), we do not know what to pray for (that is, when all con-tent is surrendered) and here is Mary, the silent, surrendering contem-plative par excellence. Unseen, unfelt, they are at the heart of so many today who are trying to pray such prayer, and so many others desper-ately in need of it if only to avoid being torn apart and scattered by the noise and confusion of a world off-center. Ecumenism. Another mark, and need, of the contemporary Church is ecumenism, conceived now as the unification not just of the various Christian churches but of the worldreligions as well. Again we may see here the stirring of.the Spirit who is the bond of love, the vinculum cari-tatis, uniting Father and Son, the one hovering over the deep bringing, at the Father's Word, order out of chaos, the one forming and securing the one Church in the beginning. And as Mar~,, with and in the Spirit, brought to birth the one undivided Christ, so is her labor today with re- 326 / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 gard to the Church. It is the opinion of many Catholic theologians that Mary should be downplayed today so as not to offend our Protestant broth-ers and sisters and thereby impede ecumenism. I should think it would be just the opposite, providing the depth of Mary is presented, which is her spirit, her form more than her traditional content; yet the latter, in the purity of Church teaching and practice, is of marked importance, too, for itself and for what it reveals of her spirit and the new directions that spirit may take, for all the churches, in the future.5 Social Justice. Whereas in former times we would speak of charity and the works of charity, now the cry is for justice and the doing of jus-tice: we do for the poor not so much out of our love and their need as out of our sense of justice and their rights. Again, in the past justice has been in the main the province of the male, the one actively engaged in the world, in politics, business, civil defense, and so forth. But women are more and more coming to the fore in it, seeking justice for themselves and for the marginal and oppressed in general. Here we may note a fresh dynamic of Mary--the seed of which, however, was there from the be-ginning. Thus those writing of Mary today, particularly women, view her in the context of the women of justice in the ancient Hebrew world-- Esther, Deborah, Judith--and see a whole theology of social justice in Mary's Magnificat.6 And if the movement toward social justice is of the Holy Spirit, who as creative Love seeks balance, harmony, substantial peace and concord, then, yes we can find, if we look, the Spirit's spouse at work with the Spirit toward the same goal. Mary, while drawing us within in contemplative stillness, also directs us outward to the Christ who lived and lives in our objective, tangible world and identified him-self with the quite visible poor and needy. She points to this Christ dwell-ing outside us as well as within, just as does the Holy Spirit who, as the gospel tells us, is there to remind us continually of all Christ has visibly done and audibly spoken. Perhaps part of the new "content" of Mary today is this visibility of the woman in works of justice and peace, not as having lost the interiorization, the contemplative spirit, the gentle, mothering love of her past, but as gaining something in addition: the hid-den life while, paradoxically still remaining hidden, come forth openly to help heal the world. Mary remains what she was in the past and there-fore under the press of current need becomes someone new for the pre-sent. When considering Mary in her relationship to women, past and pre-sent, we must be cautious. Christ is male; his maleness is part of his his-tory, and history is important in the religion known as Christianity. But Mary in Contemporary Culture / 327 his maleness is meant mainly as a means of access to his humanity and person which are neither male nor female. Christ is equally for both men and women, though, of course, in different ways according to different psychologies and cultures. However, the h~stoncai fact of Christ s male-ness has often dominated our thinking about him, with regretful results; as when, in spite of changes in psychologies and culture it is used to jus-tify an ongoing exclusive male ecclesiastical leadership. Similarly with Mary. Her femininity is a providential part of her history, but it is as a human being and person that she is of greater moment. Accordingly she is for the man as well as the woman; she serves both equally and both are equally to learn from her, though, again, in different ways. Yet her femininity has had its influence, for good and bad. For bad." it has tended to limit our ideal of the Christian woman to what it was in Mary's own day and to which, accordingly, she herself was in good measure bound. For good: it has softened our conception of God and so made our ap-proach to God easier, more inviting, loving rather than fearful. In and through the gospels, past art and poetry and drama, seeing God in the arms and in the care and "power" of this then insignificant Jewish woman--quiet, gentle, lowly, we find some of that same womanhood rubbing off, as it were, on Father God. A fair part of the accessibility of Jesus himself, his merciful compassion, is the fact that he has Mary as his flesh and blood mother. Without her, would we be altogether con-vinced of the mercy of God and the understanding compassion of Jesus? Here is one way in which the "content" or dogma of Mary has affected us in the past, with its mark still upon us, thankfully. In the present thrust of woman toward justice, with Mary behind (and before) her, it would be tragic if this content were surrendered in favor of one that is hard, merely active, superficially and imitatively masculine. Eventually God himself might regress into the terror and cruelty of past and present dark religions. Mary, the Spirit, and Christ Above I recalled the bold but, to my mind, accurate Mariology of St. Maximilian Kolbe. Mary is the spouse of the Holy Spirit in a unique way, such that we can speak of her as the very incarnation of the Spirit, with some reservation (quasi). As indicated above, some Catholic theo-logians are embarrassed by this as by much else in the Church's past the-ology and practice concerning Mary. They think it an exaggeration of the biblical teaching and find it an impediment to union with our Protes-tant sister churches. As to the first objection we must insist that Scripture was not meant Review for Religious, May-June 1989 to stand alone: it sprung up out of the Church (community of believers) and its seeds are meant to grow within the Church under the care of the same Spirit who once inspired it. There was an initial content, to be re-spected as the Spirit's word through all time; but there were also drives, dynamisms within the original word, forms yet to find their specific con-tent or matter. Thus the gospels' powerful presentations, lovingly and carefully lingered over, of the relationship between Mary, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit cry out for meditation and penetration and so the revelation of truths beneath the surface. Thus we have the doctrines of the Immacu-late Conception, Assumption, the Queenship of Mary, and so forth; and her quasi-incarnation of the Spirit. This last is not to make a god of Mary. The gospels are clear on this score: Mary is the handmaid of the Lord, his lowly servant. Rather it is to point up something in God--the femininity, womanhood,, motherhood of God. Mary can be looked upon in two ways: as an historical person, flesh and blood, the daughter of Anna and Joachim (or of whomever), the physi-cal, natural mother of Jesus. Here she is all and only human. But she must also be seen as symbol, but the special kin~ of symbol that makes what is symbolized present in very reality. Thus as the Eucharist does not simply remind us of Christ but makes him really present upon our altars, so Mary does not simply recall the Holy Spirit to our minds and point us in the Spirit's direction; she makes the Spirit. really present among and within us. Seeing her we see the Spirit, as seeing the Eucha-rist we see Christ himself. This is a good and legitimate reason for ad-dressing the Spirit as feminine--not as a sop for the marginal woman but simply because as there are reasons for addressing God as Father or Son there is this equally cogent reason for addressing God as Mother.7 As in time, in the mystery of the Incarnation there is eternal Father, mother Mary, and Son Jesus, so in eternity there is Father and Son with mother-ing Spirit as their bond of Love. As for the difficulties such teaching may hold for ecumenism, they may be only initial difficulties. As suggested above, if we view Mary and present her in terms of form, thrust, spirit, and not just as already shaped content, and if we continually move deeper within this content in context of present needs and lawful desire, perhaps Protestants will eventually come to see what Catholic belief and theology have long since held as truth and will thank us for having led the way back home, as we have reason to thank them for having helped bring us back to much that had been lost. One final remark before considering some of the specifics of our sub- Mary in Contemporary Culture / 329 ject: it has to do with Mary's relationship with Christ. Again, in sensi-tivity to Protestant criticism and in reaction to exaggerated statements about Mary and misguided devotion to her, Vatican II and ecclesiastical documents and theology since have been most careful to insist upon the subjection of Mary to Christ. Salvation is through Christ alone; he is the one mediator between God and humankind. There is little if any talk about what formerly there was lots of talk about, namely of Mary as co-redeemer and mediatrix of all graces. Such theologizing, it is believed, and the devotion arising from (or producing) it detracts from the power and mission of Christ. But I wonder if we are not here misconceiving power and the whole matter of Christ's redemptive work. We seem to be equating Christ's (God's) power with power as we ordinarily think of it: dominating rule, often exclusive. But Christ's power is not univo-cal with ours, and he himself quite literally took the greatest pains to turn the tables in the matter: "You know how those who exercise authority among the gentiles lord it over them . It cannot be like that with you. Anyone among you who aspires to greatness must serve the rest . Such is the case with the Son of Man who has come, not to be served by others, but to serve" (Mt 20:25-28). And what about the power of love, which is Christ's power, or that of helplessness: the power of the sick to draw upon the strengths of oth-ers to heal and console, the power of the ignorant to create scholars and teachers, and so forth? I have often observed that the one with most power in a family is not the father or mother but the newly born baby, the whole life of the family revolving around the child precisely because of its powerful helplessness. If this seems farfetched relative to God, we have only to think of the Christ child in the crib at Bethlehem and the adult Christ upon the cross on Calvary. And what of the power of one who knows how to share his or her power, which requires greater strength, ability, "power" than to keep it all to oneself? I should think the great power of Christ, of God himself, is most manifest in the power to empower, to raise others to his very life and level. Jesus at the Last Supper remarked: "I solemnly assure you, the one who has faith in me will do the works I do, and greater far than these" (Jn 14:12). Not ex-clusive but inclusive--such is the power of Christ. Though our Holy Father in Redemptoris Mater follows Lumen Gen-tium in insisting upon Mary's subordination to Christ, h~, together with the Vatican II document, reiterates an old principle we ought to consider with equal care: "The maternal role of Mary towards people in no way obscures or diminishes the unique mediation of Christ, but rather shows 330 / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 its power" (emphasis mine). Why not assert this aspect of Christ's power and see Mary as true queen "at the side of her Son," as the encyclical expresses it? Indeed, for centuries and still today, at least in our Christ-mas liturgies and devotions, we see the King rather in the power of his mother and in her arms, enfolded by her who gives him to the nations: "and so entering the house, (they) found the child with Mary his mother. Who am I that the mother of my Lord should come to me . He went down with them then, and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them . Figlia del tuo figlio, queen of heaven" (Mt 2:1 I ; Lk 1:43; Lk 2:51; T. S. Eliot, Dry Salvages, after Dante's Paradiso, xxxiii). In one mariological conference that I attended the speakers were in-sistent that we not view Mary apart from Christ. I kept thinking yes, but might not the reverse also be true: we must not view Christ apart from Mary. In Redemptoris Mater, John Paul several times reminds us of the indissolubility of the bond between Mary and Jesus and explicitly de-clares that "from the very first moment the Church 'looked at' Mary through Jesus, just as she 'looked at' Jesus through Mary." Christ does not want to be viewed in splendid isolation with everyone insisting that everything and everyone else is subordinated to him. His own image of himself is of one who serves, just as Mary's self-image is of the Lord's handmaid, neither thought less of their dignity for that: "Behold, all gen-erations shall call me blessed" (Lk 1:48). Mary is the first-fruits of the redemption, the Church in promised fulfillment, the Mother of the Re-deemer, of God himself, the spouse of the Holy Spirit and the effective symbol of the Spirit's presence and action in the world--this woman who embodies the very motherhood of God holds the new creation in her arms and nurtures it, just as she did her divine Son centuries ago. She has a greater, more powerful (loving) role in the work of redemption than much of our present theology is prepared to concede or any of us begin to imagine.8 At the conclusion of Redemptoris Mater we read: ". the Church is called not only to remember everything in her past that testifies to the special maternal cooperation of the Mother of God in the work of salva-tion in Christ the Lord, but also, on her own part, to prepare for the fu-ture the paths of this cooperation. For the end of the second Christian millennium opens up as a new prospect." Our Holy Father also calls for "a new and more careful reading of what the Council said about the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God, in the mystery of Christ and the Church . " Renewed thinking about Mary and action relative to her Mary in Contemporary Culture / 33"1 are called for.9 But we are to do our thinking and acting in the context of both Scripture and the wider tradition, and of current need. We are to listen to the living Spirit as "she" shows within this treasure, Mary, both the old and the new. Mary and Some Specifics of Culture: Psychology In light of the above generalized reflections on Mary and contempo-rary culture I would like to comment briefly upon several segments of our culture in terms of Mary's possible role within them. In the area of psychology, so overwhelmingly influential in the shaping of our contem-porary culture and such an intimate part of it, it depends on what psy-chology we are talking about. If it is Jungian depth psychology, we need not look long or far to find Mary's place within it. Much of the work has already been done by the master and his disciple. Jung maintained that ideas and archetypes such as the anima, the intuitive, the dark, the yin--in general, the feminine--are underdeveloped in our western cul-ture, with disastrous results. His psychology must go even further today and add they are also on the wane in much of the eastern world in com-petition now with the west in its masculine drives toward action and domi-nance, rational knowledge and acquisition. This psychology's percep-tion, then, of the need for Mary or some equivalent dynamic is evident. Jung himself expressly spoke of the need in terms of Mary. He rejoiced over the definition of the doctrine of Mary's assumption, declaring it to be "the most important religious event since the Reformation." At last the feminine was given the exaltation it requires and deserves.~° However, as suggested above, and as Jungian psychology insists, we must not think of the feminine exclusively in terms of the woman. In the past maybe so, and in our present world still many women may be said to possess more of the "feminine" than do men. But feminine charac-teristics are meant to be part of the male psychology as masculine ones of the female, and cases abound where dominance in one or the other is reversed. I think of the two great sixteenth-century Carmelites. Both Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross had the organizational skills and drives and other "masculine" traits appropriate to founders and reform-ers of religious orders, and in these Teresa, as evidenced in her numer-ous religious foundations and governance thereof, may be said to have surpassed John. Again, both were richly passive, intuitive, contempla-tive, steeped in dark and mystery and in cleaving, passionate love, all notable feminine characteristics. Yet it is John, at least as revealed in his poetry, who appears the more feminine: he is the anima, the woman pas-sive under the strong and passionately active love of a quite virile God. 332 / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 To what extent, therefore, the feminine characteristics are de facto ¯ found in women more than in men may be moot. But they are definitely the major component of the psyche of the woman Mary as she appears in the gospels. Mary's strong, paradoxically active passivity (she brings .forth the Word as she receives it), her alert and watchful hiddenness, her concern and compassion for those in need (Cana) and for the suffering (Calvary), her motherhood (of Christ and the Church), her deep, loving fidelity (from thefiat of Nazareth and before to that of Calvary and be-yond) are purposely emphasized that both men and women might real-ize their indispensability in each life that would be Christ's. They are also underscored to draw our attention to the feminine in Christ, whom oth-erwise we might tend to view simply as masculine: visibly out front, ac-tive in his preaching, teaching, healing, immersed in religious contro-versy-- a male among a world of males. In the context of his mother (and the other women who surround him), Jesus is still masculine but we are forced to attend to the deep roots of his masculinity, which is his femi-nine Spirit: his passivity (his prayer and passion), his hidden life even as he actively encountered the world, his cleaving love and compassion unto death, his motherhood (Mt 23:37; Lk 13:34). In Mary's presence, her "atmosphere," such qualities of Christ are not simply seen, but they are seen to be the best of him. Jesus was so powerfully and creatively masculine--such a leader for his time as for all time--because his mas-culinity was rooted in and suffused by the feminine, the Spirit. It is Mary who as his mother nurtured him in this, and who helps draw our atten-tion to it. It is she, then, who as our mother nurtures us in the same Spirit and in a similar way. As for other psychologies suffice it here to say that Mary should be looked for behind and within any therapy working toward healing and wholeness. Again, it is Christ who is the healer, but it is Mary who in-itiates the process by bringing Christ to birth, in the world at large and in each individual. Mary, one with the Spirit, struggles and groans in each of us to bring us to the wholeness, the sanity of Christ. Like her, and with her, we concentrated on the activefiat that allows it all to hap-pen. Politics, Economics, Sociology In the political, economic, and sociological concerns of our time Mary points up the need for the hidden, the contemplative, and for uni-versal justice (as in her Magnificat), and, though unnoticed, she is be-hind and within all creative efforts toward these ends. The absence of the contemplative, of the feminine in general, in contemporary politics Mary in Contemporary Culture / 333 is evident, and results have been tragic. Because they lack roots, our poli-tics, both domestic and foreign, change even as they are being formed; and this condition is aggravated by lack of goals other than immediate and pragmatic. But it is the contemplative spirit that gives depth and con-stancy and lights up the future and beyond. Also, our current concentration is upon superficial differences and divisions (my need, my race, my country, my self) rather than on our deeper oneness, which only contemplation, in the one God-centered form or another, can reveal and promote. Further, the disturbance we experi-ence within and among nations may well have as its root cause the fail-ure of the contemplative, the fruit of which is "the peace that surpasses understanding." And so we find divisions among us, the growth of fear, the expan-sion of military might to safeguard our "own" war or the cold threat of war. We look, then, to Mary, universal Mother and Queen of peace, for political healing. She is already there, in this felt social need, but also in those religious orders of men and women whose main concern is con-templation. One of the concrete ways in which the state might help work its own remedy, and so implicitly acknowledge Mary in its functioning, is itself to encourage and promote contemplative communities within its boundaries. These would help make up for the failure of prayer else-where and would be invitation and incentive for the rest of us to unite ourselves with them, at least from time to time, and so help bring our nation and the world to greater depth, unity, and peace. If the need for Mary and what she represents is obvious in politics, it is more so in the field of economics. Here the masculine dominates to the complete exclusion of the feminine, and material concerns have been so isolated from the spiritual that never the twain do meet. This is especially disturbing when we realize that it is economics that determines even our politics. Science too, as technology, is subordinated to it and dominated by it. Indeed, economics has become the dominant factor of our culture or a-culture; it is our pseudo-religion, often becoming, in fact if not in theory, the determining force in more legitimate and traditional religion. If, then, Jesus needs to be born into our world today, it is cer-tainly here in our economic systems and practice. And if born here, he may begin to penetrate the rest of our world. So once again we look to Mary to mother Jesus where he is most needed and we do what we can to help her in the birthing. To see sociology in terms of Mary is to reconsider love. Whatever the other theories as to the origin of society, from the Christian perspec- 334 / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 tive it is love that first brings us together and, accordingly, it is love that is society's fundamental problem. So from its beginnings Christianity has taught that the basic unit of society is not the individual but the family which (ideally) is the product of love; and social workers, I believe, would readily agree that it is the lack of love, with the resulting fear and loneliness, that is their chief concern. But today love which is meant to unite is itself fragmented. Sex, in-tended to be integral with love, has been divided from it and made to function alone with all the consequent evils, both mental and physical, that plague our society. The inward-outward directions of love have also been severed, so that now it is either love of self (inward) to the exclu-sion of others or the love of others (outward) to the neglect and loss of self. One of the results of this is the breakup (further division) of the fam-ily which, accordingly, is now challenged by sociologists as the de facto basic unit of society. Mary can and, in secret ways, does have a curative place in all of this. Her love was integral. It reached out to others in and through Christ's large love; indeed, she brought that very love to birth. But she also reached deep within herself to the Spirit of love wherein she found her personal growth and happiness: "All generations will call me blessed." True, she "knew not man." But this does not mean her love was sexless. It is the myopia of our time that sees sex as having but one kind of expression. Mary can alert us to look for the depth in sex and sexual love and so open to us new possibilities of love. And love restored to wholeness should work toward the restoration of the centrality of fam-ily with consequent diminution of fear and loneliness. The Arts and Sciences Mary can have, and has, her place in those areas of our culture known as the arts and sciences. In any presentation or exercise of the hu-man, as in the arts and sciences, we are to see Christ, of course, but also Mary who, in her Immaculate Conception and her conception and birth-ing of Christ, was the first to bring the human to perfection. But as in Christ the human is perfected in and through the divine (Christ's person and divine nature) so also we find Mary bringing the human to perfec-tion in, through, and toward the divine. Again, it is a matter of whole-ness, which our contemporary world tends always to divide. Apart from the divine the human can only degenerate into the inhuman; but with the divine all of its gifted potential is realized. It is in this sense that the only true humanism is Christian humanism. Thus in the arts and sciences Mary is present as they express and promote the human, and she is dy- Mar), in Contemporary Culture / 335 namically present, moving them forward and deeper into the divine to become divinely human. Christ alone might be said to suffice for this: he is the one who in his very person brings the human to perfection. But Mary gives assurance of and added emphasis to Christ's humanity (he is of herflesh) and his divinity (she is Mother of God) and is responsible for the becoming of these in our world (she conceives and nurtures the perfect human being). She is behind the process of the arts and sciences. Here, then, as elsewhere in our contemporary world, Mary, together with her Son, may be found, not just as a possibility, but as actively engaged in shaping a reemerging culture. Our concern ought to be to look for them together and, having found them, enter into their work. NOTES ~ "I know that a poem, or a passage of a poem, may tend to realize itself first as a particular rhythm before it reaches expression in words, and that this rhythm may bring to birth the idea and the image; and I do not believe that this is an experience peculiar to myself." T. S. Eliot. "The Music of Poetry" in On Poetry and Poets (New York: 1957), p. 32. z Eliot again: "Culture cannot altogether be brought to consciousness; and the cul-ture of which we are wholly conscious is never the whole of culture: the effective culture is that which is directing the activities of those who are manipulating that which they call culture." Christianity and Culture (New York: 1949), p. 184. For Eliot's summary definition of culture see p. 198. 3 Gerard Manley Hopkins in "The Blessed Virgin compared to the Air We Breathe." 4 Ren~ Laurentin, indeed, disapproves of the expression altogether, reserving the term "incarnation" for that bf Christ alone~ However, he proceeds to speak of Mary as "pure transparency for the Spirit . . . she is wholly relative to the Spirit; this indeed is at the very core of her deep relationship to Christ and the Father." "Mary and the Holy Spirit," in Mary in Faith and Life in the New Age of the Church (Ndola- Zambia: 1983),"pp. 287-288. 5 See note 9 below for C. Jung's defense of Mary, precisely as in Catholic dogma, as a remedy for a defective Protestantism. In a letter to The Tablet, Sept. 5, 1987, p. 944, Dora Bede Griffiths, writing from his ashram-in Tamil Nadu, South India, suggests a rapprochement, between eastern religions and Christianity through the femi-nine. He notes that in Hebrew the "word for the Spirit (ruach) is feminine and in the Syrian Church, which spoke a form of Aramaic, which is close to the Hebrew, reference was made to 'our Mother, the Holy Spirit.' " The same for the Hebrew word for Wisdom (hokmah): it too is feminine and "this Wisdom is described as 'coming forth from the mouth of the Most High' as a feminine form of the Word of God." He suggests the possible enrichment of our Christian tradition by contact with Hinduism which "has no difficulty in calling on God as 'My Father, my Mother' and with Mahayana Buddhism which conceives of the highest form of Wis-dom as a feminine figure. Dora Bede does not mention Mary here, but it is my sug-gestion that she it is who concretizes the divine feminine, gives it flesh. Thus she 336 / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 is the one who, rather than impede universal ecumenism, is meant to help in its re-alization. 6 There are the fine women theologians writing on Mary, such as E. S. Fiorenza and E. Moltmann-Wendel. But I am also thinking of the poets who perhaps do even more to deepen and broaden our knowledge and appreciation of Mary: a Caryll Houselan-der of the past generation and an Ann Johnson of the present. For the Magnificat especially, see the latter's Miryam of Nazareth: Woman of Strength and Wisdom (In-diana: Ave Maria Press, 1984). 7 In his essay "Sur la maternit~ en Dieu et la feminit6 du Saint-Esprit," Escritos del Vedat !I (1981), Yves Congar argues from Scripture and Tradition to the femi-ninity of the Holy Spirit, but is here silent as to Mary's role in the "sacramentiz-ing" of it. The essay may also be found in Theology Digest 30:2 (Summer, 1982) pp, 129-132. 8 Solus Christus, as solafides and sola scriptura, requires severe qualification. For centuries Catholic theologians have argued vigorously against ~he two latter formu-lae. They have been rightly suspicious of such exclusivity in view of the fullness of Christian revelation. For the same reason, perhaps, they should also challenge the solus Christus, this time in view of the fullness of Christ who is our revelation. 9 In an interview carried in America (June 6, 1987), pp. 457-458, Cardinal Suenens stressed the incompleteness of Vatican II's declaration on Mary. "I felt we needed to say more . She is not merely an historical figure; from the beginning she has been given an ongoing mission to bring Christ to the world." ~0 C. G. Jung, "Answer to Job," in Psychology and Religion: West and East, trans. by R. F. C. Hull, Bollinger Series XX (Pantheon Books, 1958), p. 464. Jung goes on to criticize Protestantism for its criticisms of the dogma. "Protestantism has ob-viously not given sufficient attention to the signs of the times which point to the equal-ity of women. But this equality requires to be metaphysically anchored in the figure of a 'divine' woman, the bride of Christ." Jung realizes that the dogma does not give Mary "the status of a goddess," still "her position (now) satisfies the need of the archetype." 1 don't know how this last can be, however, unless it is in and through Mary that we recognize that within the godhead itself the feminine is real-ized in the Person of the Spirit. Through Mary. Hilda S. Montalvo Hilda Montalvo is currently teaching at St. Vincent de Paul Regional Seminary in Boynton Beach, Florida. She is a wife and mother, currently a candidate for a Doc-torate in Ministry. She has completed the graduate program in Christian Spiritual Guid-ance from the Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation in Washington, D.C. Her ad-dress is 7151 Pioneer Road; West Palm Beach, Florida 33413. The other day at a Lay Ministry workshop there was a spontaneous burst of applause when I shared my way of praying Mary's life. From the be-ginning of my spiritual journey over twenty years ago I have had an in-tuitive knowledge that the objective "facts" and titles about Mary were important not only because they honored and revered the mother of God but also because they spoke of my reality as a human being and a Chris-tian. These Marian dogmas have helped me to clarify and understand my basic assumptions of myself, my relationship with God, and the mean-ing of my life. I have always had a problem with original sin. To inherit Adam's sin is simply not fair, and so at seven I became an agnostic. The idea of a God that punishes and condemns innocent people--and I experi-enced myself as innocent--was repulsive and frightening. Christianity was not good news. If I was good, if ! kept the commandments, then God would love me. The dogma of the Immaculate Conception simply meant that God had wai.ved that evil from one person. To be born with original sin was bad enough but at least it was a shared human experi-ence and it explained (somewhat!) evil and death. But if Mary was born without it, not only was she not totally human but her "fiat" was pre-destined and she had no actual freedom. Christianity became good news when I realized that the fall/ redemption concept of original sin was simply one way of understand- 337 331~ / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 ing the Genesis story. The traditional interpretation of the story of Adam and Eve posits a paradise lost because of disobedience and the conse-quent punishment of suffering and death. But modern biblical interpret-ers such as Brueggemann are recognizing that the fundamental revela-tion of Genesis is that God's creation is good and that God is constantly gracing and blessing it. God made man and woman in "our" image and it was very good. That has to be the most important assumption of our spiritual life. Each person must come to a personal conviction of this truth that is not only an intellectual response but a lived, grounded ex-perience. The story of Adam and Eve is now being understood as that moment in history when human beings first become self-consciously aware, the first truly human act. Before that there was simply undifferentiated ex-istence; total unconscious dependence on environment and relationship, such as each baby.lives through his or her first year. The process of be-coming self-conscious, of becoming autonomous, in a child can be de-scribed a bit facetiously as the "terrible two's," in humankind, as the Fall. Original sin is not a 'thing' that we are born with: it simply de-scribes in mythological language our natural tendency for independence. Catholicism has always affirmed that grace builds on nature. Crea-tion spirituality, which has its origins in the earliest writer of the Bible, the Yahwist, emphasizes the constant presence and blessings of God in spite of the seeming sinfulness of his creatures. The main thrust of the whole Yahwist Saga which culminates in that beautiful and simple story of Balaam and the talking ass (Nb 22:25) is to celebrate God's refusal to curse his people and his insistence of unconditional love and bless-ing. We, like Balaam, are blinded by our needs and expectations. Per-haps .the Immaculate Conception is yet another reminder of our innate gracefulness? Could not this be the fundamental celebration of baptism? Jesus experienced the unconditional love of his Father at his baptism; we celebrate this same unconditional love and our acceptance into a lov-ing community at our baptism. Mary's Immaculate Conception could be the reminder of God's unconditional covenant with each one of us and the celebration of his covenant through one individual. It is not a nega-tive gift--but a positive statement: God is with us and for us. Original sin (and now I can begin to forgive God and Adam!) is the mythical explanation of our desire for independence from God and his creation--autonomy--with the inevitable consequence of alienation and death. Baptism is the celebration of the fact that God not only loves us unconditionally but is present within us and among us; it effects what it Through Mary / 339 signifies. The truth and hope beyond individualization is unity with God and interdependence with others--co-creators of the parousia, paradise, but now conscious and mature and in freedom. Mary is the archetype of this truth which has been named as Immaculate Conception. At the experiential level I resonate with Mary's "fiat." I also have experienced, am experiencing, the overshadowing of the Holy Spirit and have been afraid and anxious. I also wrestle with the "how" and "why" and the "why me." I also (carefully and tentatively) have said "fiat" and Christ has become incarnate, is now conceived, and contin-ues to be conceived in my life moment by moment. I also have felt com-pelled to go forth and share this good news with others. I give birth daily to Christ in my family, in my ministry. I also sing daily "My soul mag-nifies the Lord, my spirit exalts in God my savior." Mary's story is my story and every Christian's story. She is the ar-chetype of the Disciple as well as the archetype of Woman and Mother for both men and women. An archetype, in Jungian terms, is an image in thepsyche that when recognized and owned can serve to integrate be-liefs, feelings, and behavior. Unless one allows the Word to be con-ceived within one's very being, Christianity remains barren and lifeless, a moral code. It is onlywhen I become willing to accept the transform-ing gracefulness of God's love and presence in my life that I become ca-pable of writing my own Magnificat. As I journal the events of my life I become aware that God "has done great things for me," not least of which is to radically change my values and priorities. Mary is both virgin and mother. If this is understood only in the physi-cal sense, it is simply a faith statement that speaks exclusively of Mary. Mary "undefiled" stands above and beyond created reality, sexuality, and life itself. By implication, then, all persons who express their love sexually, even in stable and committed relationships, are impure, cor-rupted, polluted, tainted, or unclean. The list of synonyms in Roget's Thesaurus is much longer. But dogmas and doctrines speak of the truth of our nature and our relationship with God and with one another. Thus it behooves Catholic Christians to question what God is revealing through this dogma. Might it not mean that "perpetual virginity" means a life of integrity and innocence in any walk of life? Every disciple must conceive and birth Jesus; must be reborn; must be both virgin and mother regardless of his or her sex or sexuality. This way of perceiving Mary's virginity and motherhood can be especially fruitful for men who, in Jung's terms, project their ideal image of woman instead of accepting and owning their own femininity or anima. Mary Review for Religious, May-June 1989 within, for all disciples, symbolizes openness, receptivity, gentleness, gracefulness--many of those feminine virtues that have been lacking in our contemporary society. As a wife and mother I recognize and celebrate both the gift of moth-erhood and the wholeness and purity of my own life that is bespoken of through virginity. In and through motherhood I continue to be uncon-taminated, unprofaned, spotless, unblemished, andchaste. As I pray this dogma I become more comfortable with the paradoxical reality of my own inner being; I begin to name and own my authentic self; I become more open and vulnerable to the healing presence of Christ within. To meditate on the dogmas of Mary in this fashion helps us come in touch with the paradoxical nature of creation. It helps us to see be-yond the either/or stance that divides, judges, and creates conflict and war. It helps us to accept that much broader vision of both/and that is so freeing and encompassing. It helps us to see and understand the dif-ference between facts and Truth, between knowledge and wisdom. It is an invitation to live and enjoy mystery, to be surprised by newness and resurrection and Presence. Meditating on the dogma of the Assumption can be especially help-ful for us in recognizing our projections of the categories of time and space unto life after death. We were taught that heaven and hell were places for all time---eternity. Purgatory was a transient place of purifi-cation. The time and place one went to depended on one's choices. All very neat and logical--and totally contradictory to Revelation. The mag-nificence and mystery of the Spirit's presence in the Church is especially obvious in this dogma of the Assumption. Again we must take it seri-ously and symbolically--in the deepest sense of symbol which is to point beyond the literal sense to the mystery of which it speaks. Mary, the Dis-ciple, is assumed, taken up into heaven, body and soul, after her death. In mythological language she passes into timelessness and spacelessness. She simply is. Westerners tend to equate rational thought with knowledge, thus de-nying intuitive, imageless wisdom. The Assumption--as the Resurrec-tion- is revealed knowledge that goes beyond rational logical thought into mystery and Truth. But as finite human beings we factualize and ex-teriorize the nameless, misunderstand symbol, and live mystery as if it were actuality. The invitation of the dogma of the Assumption is to .let go of our need to understand, to know, to control, and simply trust the goodness and kindness of God. The invitation is to live this life to the fullest and trust that God will take care of our future--name it resurrec- Through Mary / 341 tion or assumption. The invitation is to experience beyond imagining and to live with the paradox of knowing but not understanding. My skepticism/agnosticism has served my faith in the sense that by doubting, questioning, and mistrusting religious experience I have not succumbed to superstition or fanaticism. On the other hand--as was pointed out to me by a wise fellow-traveler--skepticism was also an "ego defense, behind which lies a fear of change and loss of control that giving in to the religious experience may bring." Gifted with this insight I have consciously approached the dogma of the Assumption with as much of an attitude of "letting-go" and an open mind as possible. This has allowed me to see beyond the constricting barriers of space, time, matter and form. It has encouraged me to become open to mystery and surprise and to think in other terms than those of classical theology which comes to logical and rational conclusions about the mystery of God: "It is fitting and right." The Assumption means that when I die I become present. The.As-sumption means no more time, space, dualism, paradox. The Assump-tion means no more becoming. All the barriers to fullness of life that I have struggled with either because of environment or because of genes will disappear and I will become--I am, one with Christ. Catholics have traditionally prayed "through Mary to Jesus." This archetypal way of praying Mary, in fact, allows Jesus to become incar-nate in our very being. As I "ponder" the Immaculate Conception I be-come aware of the goodness of creation and my innate gracefulness; I conceive Jesus' within me by the power of the Holy Spirit; I give birth to him daily and discover him in others; I slowly let go of my need to control through power and knowledge. Through Mary belief statements become faith experiences; factual knowledge becomes lived Truth. I can then say with Paul: "I live now not with my own life but with the life of Christ who lives in me." Some Reflections On Mary, Bridge To Ecumenism? Mary Eileen Foley, R.G.S. Sister Mary Eileen Foley, R.G.S., has been teaching courses in Scripture in a par-ish and to her own Sisters, in addition to her free lance writing. She has been princi-pal and teacher of special needs of teenage girls. Her address is Convent of the Good Shepherd; Cushing Hill Drive; Marlboro, Massachusetts 01752. The hopeful days of ecumenism following Vatican Council II in the 1960s highlighted a maj6r difference between Catholics and Protestants, namely, devotion to Mary. For a long time after the Reformation in the sixteenth century, there was an absence of any productive or even respect-ful communication between us, and consequently there was little under-standing of each other's point of view, especially regarding the mother of Jesus. Historical Background Devotion to Mary, an outstanding characteristic of most Catholics, became the dividing line, with symbolic rather than logical origins. Mary represented Catholicism, against which the Reformers were protesting on the Continent. About the same time in England, the suppression of Catholicism un-der Henry VIII was more specifically directed against the papacy. The destruction of monasteries, however, depri red the people of religious in-struction and centers where Mary was honored; as a consequence, devo-tion to her almost died out. Elizabeth I, motivated politically rather than religiously, continued her father's efforts to dominate Ireland, capitalizing on the anti- Catholic movement by implementing the policy of "Anglicization 342 Mary, Bridge to Ecumenism? / 343 through Protestantization." In Ireland, the mere possession of a rosary was sufficient evidence of treason against the Crown, and was punish-able by death. Under Cromwell's dictatorship in England, Anglicanism, as well as Catholicism, was repressed, and even the celebration of Christmas was forbidden. "Where was the Blessed Mother in thought and practice if her son's birthday was repudiated by the law of the land?"~ Divinity vs. Discipleship Influenced by the history and the politics of the times, misunderstand-ings grew in regard to the Church's attitude toward Mary. Protestants were disturbed about the apparent centrality of devotion to Mary; it seemed to be taking something away from Christ. Non-Roman Catho-lics balk at giving Mary the title of "Co-Redemptrix," fearing that Christ will be displaced as unique mediator of salvation.2 In time, Catholics were able to hear Protestants voice their concern about our apparent "divinization" of Mary, yet countless explanations to the contrary did not seem to convince them, either to put their fears at rest or to allow them the comfort and friendship of the Mother of God. The Council actually approached the subject of Mary with the concerns of non-Catholics in mind, even over the objections of some of the bish-ops, who felt that ecumenism should not be the focus of a document on Mary. Some wished her to be declared Mediatrix of All Graces, but this did not happen at the Council. Actually no separate document on Mary materialized. In the final analysis, Mary appears in the context of the document on the Church. In a discussion of Christ (the Redeemer) and the Church (the Redeemed), she is very clearly identified with the Church, the people of God, rather than with Christ, the Son of God. The document portrays her, not as Christo-typical but as Ecclesio-typical. The implications of this decision were far-reaching indeed. First, this is a very different focus from that to which we have been accustomed. We have tended to see Jesus and Mary together, and while Mary was by no means deified, we did tend to .pray to them together. We looked up to them. Her stance now, however, is with us, the re-deemed, the beneficiaries of the passion and death of Christ. Discipleship Part of the reason for the change seems to be the emphasis on Mary's role in Scripture as disciple. As a hearer of God's word, she is an out-standing disciple of Christ, and she is logically first among his disciples :344 / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 and members of the Church. The concept of disciple, clearly presented in .the Scripture, seems to be more acceptable to our Protestant brethren and carries with it no overtones of divinity. All four Evangelists as a matter of fact paint her portrait as the faith-ful disciple, and in so doing, they reflect this role as seeming to surpass her title of Mother of God. "Blessed is the womb that bore you and the breasts that nursed you," cried a woman in the crowd, to whom Jesus responded, "Yea, blessed are they who hear the word of God and keep it" (Lk 12:27-28). "Your mother and brethren are outside, awaiting you," he was told, and he deftly responded with a question: "Who is my mother? Who are my brethren? He who does the will of my Father, is mother, brother, and sister to me" (Mk 3:31-35). Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother and the disciple whom Je-sus loved. "Woman, behold thy son," he said; then to John, "Behold thy mother" (Jn 19:25-27). Jesus is speaking to his ideal followers, who henceforth will model discipleship for all who desire to follow the Mas-ter. It struck me while comparing these Gospel passages that the Evan-gelists are at great pains to demonstrate that Mary's dignity comes from the fact that she was a woman of faith, which is the outstanding charac, teristic of a disciple. She was open to the word of God and completely obedient in carrying out whatever it called her to do. Whether it was ac-ceptance of the angelic message ("be it done unto me according to thy word," Lk i:38) or responding to the call to go to Bethlehem, then Egypt, and finally Calvary, she modeled clearly for us what the disciple of Christ should be. Grace and Discipleship No one, it seems, could be faulted for honoring one who followed Christ so perfectly. Yet, here again, differing beliefs on grace playa part. Protestants believe that salvation is effected by God alone, that hu-man nature plays no role. Protestants tend to view human nature as totally corrupted by sin, and grace as the merciful disposition of God to forgive and to treat the sin-ner as justified . To speak of human cooperation is to underestimate either the radical nature of human sin or the absolute gratuity of grace. In this perspective (from the Protestant point of view) the use of Mary's fiat becomes a primary example of Catholic presumption of God's sov-ereignty, making God dependent on humanity or making a creature mu-tually effective with God in the work of redemption.3 Mary, Bridge to Ecumenism? / 345 Resistance to the title "Co-Redemptrix" is related to this belief also. The Catholic point of view has been adequately stated, and to quote Tambasco again: "Mary's life simply reflects the fullest effects of grace which enable a faith-filled freedom that responds to and engages in the sovereign work of God in Christ .F.reedom does not substitute for grace, or grace, freedom."4 Because she is preeminent in carrying out his word, Mary's signifi-cance lies, according to the synoptics, in this characteristic of disci-pleship, more than the fact that she is Jesus's natural mother. At the foot of the cross, howe~,er, the beloved disciple, John, and the faithful disci-ple, Mary, seem to be called to discipleship in terms of a family rela-tionship, specifically that of mother and son. The role of disciple now seems to be expressed best in terms of mothering! Discipleship And Motherhood Actually, Mary conceived Jesus by means of an act of faith, the mark of the disciple: When the invitation to be Christ's mother is proposed to her, she says, "Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it done unto me according to thy word" (Lk 1:38). And then the Word becomes flesh . Faith comes first, and then motherhood. John, too, is to carry out his discipleship in similar terms. In his First Letter, John's words are as tender as any mother's: "Remain in him now, little ones . See what love the Father has bestowed on us in letting us be called the children of God! Yet that is what we are' (1 Jn 2:28; 3:1). Mothering is what disciples do. Whatever our ministry is, we hope to bring to it compassion and caring. As a teacher l felt honored to be involved in nurturing the intellectual and spiritual growth of students. The Scriptures are full of mother images that apply not only to a disci-ple but were, in fact, chosen by the Lord for himself. The scriptural im-age of Christ weeping over Jerusalem is very explicit: "How often have I wanted to gather your children together as a mother bird collects her young under her wings, and you refused me!" (Lk 13:34). The disciple of Christ shares in his life-giving approach to those to whom he has been sent. Life-giving calls up images of motherhood, and lately it has been very popular to speak of God as Mother. Julian of Nor-wich often prayed to "Mother Jesus." Mary images motherhood for us, not only her own, but the motherhood of Christ as well. Even the Apos-tle Paul says: "You are my children, and you put me back in labor pains until Christ is formed in you" (Ga 4:!9). Finally the God of the Old Testament speaks through Isaiah: "Can 346 / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 a mother forget her infant, or a woman be without tenderness for the child of her womb? Yet even if she should forget, I will never forget you" (Is 49:15). It looks to me that, although Protestants accept the fact that Mary is the mother of.Jesus, they do not seem to see her as their mother, too. While we sometimes see ourselves in the role of mothering, at other times we, too, need to be nurtured or affirmed. The mother of Jesus seems to be a natural one to turn to, especially since we understand that she has been given to us in the words spoken to John, "Behold thy mother" (Jn 19:27). The motherly qualities so ~befitting a disciple are surely present in a special way in Mary, the paramount disciple of all. Doctrine, Scripture, And Tradition Another possible ecumenical barrier regarding Mary is the dogma of the Immaculate Conception (Mary conceived without sin) and the dogma of the Assumption (Mary taken into heaven, body and soul.) A dogma is a doctrine that has been presented for belief, and the idea of the evo-lution of dogma is an enlightening one for many, Catholics included. A doctrine emerges from tradition, which has been explained as follows: Tradition is the living faith experience of the Church which preserves the truths enunciated in the Scriptures but also explicates these truths, draws out what is hidden, and develops more fully insights consistent with but not wholly expressed in the biblical text.5 As has been better expressed above, sometimes a dogma affirms what was not known in complete form from the beginning, but devel-oped from reflections on, for example, the mystery of the Incarnation, and has been the constant teaching of the Church for centuries. Dogma may appear to have been imposed exteriorly, in a context that is a-historical. The vagueness of its scriptural basis is difficult for Protestants, who are biblically, and therefore, historically, oriented. Rootedness in history and Scripture, sources that are being mined assiduously by Catho-lics today, may well provide the undergirding necessary to place devo-tion to Mary in properperspective for all. The aforementioned dogmas on Mary were defined during what we now call the Marian Age (1850 to 1950), although they have been part of the tradition of the Church since the sixth century. Belief (in the Assumption) originated not from biblical evidence nor even patristic testimony but as the conclusion of a so-called argument from convenience or fittingness. It was fitting that Jesus should have res-cued his mother from the corruption of the flesh and so he must have Mary, Bridge to Ecumenism? / 347 taken her bodily into heaven.6 At the end of the sixth century, they began to celebrate the Immacu-late Conception in the East, but it remained unknown in the West until the eleventh century . To eastern ears, which had a different under-standing of original sin, it meant only freedom from mortality and genu-ine human weakness.7 Such doctrines are based on what has been described as "theology from above," or an understanding of the Incarnation as originating in the Trinity. When the Father sent his Son to earth to be born of the Vir-gin Mary, it was incompatible with his nature that the Son would inherit original sin, taught to be transmitted through birth into the human race. Therefore, it was appropriate that Mary be conceived immaculate. The honor is for the sake of Jesus, not Mary. The Communion Of Saints An understanding of the communion of saints, a belief shared by both Catholics and Protestants, may be helpful in seeing Mary's role more clearly. The idea seems to have originated with the martyrs who gave their lives for Christ, and, as a result, were believed to be enjoying his presence and the rewards of their sacrifice. Obviously, they would be in a unique position to be allowed by God to hear the prayers of those still struggling on and would be willing and able to offer these petitions for help to Christ himself, in whose presence they now live. The idea of intercessory prayer is accepted by most people, who pray not only to the saints who have distinguished themselves in the service of God, but to their own friends and relatives who led good lives on earth and as-suredly are still mindful of the needs of those they have left behind. Peo-ple who are still living are also asked to pray for the intentions of oth-ers! That people should present their petitions to Mary in order that she might intercede with her Son for them follows logically in this tradition. It would seem that he would be especially attentive to one who was his model disciple on earth, to one who spent, her life hearing his word and accomplishing it, especially if she were interceding for one who was ask-ing her help to be an effective disciple also. - In ordinary life we often speak to someone with influence in order to present our case. Such is the nature of intercessory prayer, not to be confused with praying directly to Mary,'as if she were able to grant these petitions herself. Protestants dislike seeing Mary in the role of Media-tor, since Jesus Christ is the one Mediator. A movement at the Council to declare Mary Mediatrix of all Graces was scrapped, although this be- Review for Religious, May-June 1989 lief has been part of the tradition of the Church since the eighth century. The ecumenical dimension of the Council reflected the Church's percep-tion of herself now as a world church, with respect for the truth possessed by all churches. Theology -From-Below The contributions of Karl Rahner to contemporary religious thought seem to have great value for the ecumenical movement. Rahner, consid-ered to be one of the greatest theologians of our time, is especially im-pressed with the sacramentality of creation--the fact that God himself is revealed in his works. When creation first came from the hand of God as recorded in Genesis, it was seen to be good--to be holy. God was in his creation from the beginning. Although it was good, it was not com-plete, and in the p.rogress of time, all creation moves to fulfillment, which is finally achieved in Jesus Christ. Rahner's idea is that Christ emerged naturally from God's creation, rather than emphasizing his "being sent down from heaven." He says things often like "the more one is like Christ, the more he is truly him- ~elf." To be like Christ is to approach being a perfect human being. Rahner's ideas allow for experiential learning on the part of Jesus, like any human person going through the normal stages of growth and de-velopment. This Christology is very attractive to a Catholic today, and perhaps it has been better known to Protestants all along. This Christology does not deny his divinity, of course, but the em-phasis is very different from the implications of the theology:from-above design, which seems to emphasize his divinity more, although it does not deny his humanity. One argument advanced was that since one is the mother of a person, rather than a nature, it seemed logical to em-phasize Mary as Mother of God. "In 451," writes Charles W. Dickson, a Lutheran pastor who has served as Chairman of the Commission on Ecumenical Relations of the North Carolina Council of Churches: the Council of Chalcedon dealt with the subject of dual natures by af-firming the inseparability of the two natures, each nature being pre-served and concurring in one person (prosopon) and one subsistence (hy-postasis). 8 Reverend Dickson continues: If this Chalcedonian formulation is given serious attention in contem-porary Protestant thought, some feel the human nature of Christ will not continue to suffer the devaluation of the past, nor will, therefore, its pre- Mary, Bridge to Ecumenism? / 349 cursor in the Incarnation--the Virgin Mary.9 The title, Mother of God, does seem to imply that Mary is divine, and although Protestants accept Mary as the mother of Jesus, tradition-ally they seem to resist the title of "Mother of God." In pagan mythol-ogy, the mother of the god or gods was considered to be a goddess. There seemed to be anxiety in New Testament times from the beginning not to equate Mary with the pagan goddesses, and although this distinc-tion has always been understood by Catholics, it may have looked to Prot-estants that we were divinizing Mary. Popular Religion - An Aid To Ecumenism? In view of the ecumenical dimension, the relationship between sym-bol, basic human need, and religion is very important. Clifford Geertz says that religious symbols provide not only the ability to comprehend the world but to endure it. Man depends upon symbols and symbol systems with a dependence so great as to be decisive for his creatural viability and, as a result, his sen-sitivity to even the remotest indication that they may prove unable to cope with one or another aspect of experience, raises within him the grav-est source of anxiety. ~0 In worship, people tend to clothe God with attributes that will meet their innermost needs. Sometimes in the past the abstract definitions of the theologians left people cold. God was oftentimes seen to be a dis-tant, transcendent God, and a judging God, who dispensed rewards and punishments in strict accordance with one's deeds. People were longing to see him as loving and compassionate, like a mother. If ordinary Catholics had been accustomed to reading the Scripture for themselves, as they are beginning to do now since Vatican II, they might have experienced firsthand the motherly concern of Jesus for the poor, the sick, and the scorned. Probing the Bible now, one is touched, for example, by his attitude toward women, especially disgraced women, regardless of the disapproval of males present. I do understand, however, that Bible reading for Catholics was sharply curtailed at the time of the Reformation due to so many people leaving the Church because of pri-vate interpretation of the Scripture. We understand now that in God there is a perfect balance of so-called masculine and feminine qualities; thanks to insightsfrom psychol-ogy, we are more theologically sophisticated than our predecessors. How-ever, in the early centuries of Christianity, people turned to the feminine Mary, in whom they felt that they had a ready-made mother who cared 350/Review for Religious, May-June 1989 about them. Based, no doubt, on the idea of the communion of saints and the practice of asking for the intercession of the martyrs, who were surely with God, there was a normal development of devotion to Mary, who, as the mother of Jesus, w,a_.,s seen to be more than willing to help those for whom her Son died such a cruel death. Popular Religion And The Apparitions When Catholics finally turn to the Scripture for news of Mary, they are amazed at how little is there! The immense body of material that is available on Mary derives from tradition and also from popular religion, which is based on Mary's relationship to Jesus ~nd the needs of people. Our knowledge of her has been shaped also by .accounts of her various appearances throughout the world. However, as Tambasco comments: ". (the) return to biblical and ecumenical considerations has rightly reduced these devotions to a minor role (p. 71)." Their value is in the Gospel teaching that each affirms. The Church moves very slowly in granting approval for belief in ap-paritions, and even when approval is received, there is no obligation to believe. The one important guideline in regard to any appearance is the fact that nothing is presented or ordered that is contrary to the constant teaching of the Church. An example would be when Mary reportedly appeared to Catherine Labour6 in France in 1830 and to Bernadette Soubirous in Lourdes, also in France, in 1858, she said, "I am the Immaculate Conception," a tra-dition in the Church since the sixth century. At LaSalette she insisted on the observance of the Lord's Day, which the people were ignoring, treating Sunday as any other day. She also re-proved them for blasphemy and taking the Lord's name in vain, thus un-derscoring the second and third commandments. At Fatima she asked them to do penance and to pray for peace. In 1879 at Knock, in County Mayo in Ireland, she said nothing at all! She appeared with St. Joseph and St. John, beside an altar sur-mounted by a lamb and a cross, over which angels hovered. The Irish saw in her appearance a message of comfort for the persecution they had suffered for their faith, dating back to the sixteenth century. They iden-tified the symbols with those of the heavenly liturgy in the Book of Reve-lation, seeing in them an affirmation of their fidelity to worship. Priests had risked their lives to offer the Sacrifice of the Mass, symbolized by the Lamb. St. John the Evangelist is holding the Gospel book in one hand, with the other hand raised, as if he is making a point in a sermon. Mary, Bridge to Ecumenism? / 35"1 The theme or instruction accompanying each visit was not a new teaching in any way, but an old teaching which needed a new emphasis, depending on the times. When I was at Knock in 1987, I remember think-ing to myself: it really doesn't matter whether Mary actually appeared here or not! All around me at the shrine there was evidence of faith, as people prayed, participated in the liturgy, reflected on the passion of Christ at the stations, or were merely kind and friendly to each other. I felt a renewal of my own spirituality in such a faith-filled atmosphere. The element of pilgrimage is, of course, very strong at Knock, and pil-grimage from the earliest days has been a vibrant expression of popular religion among people. Pilgrimage Pilgrimages stemming from the apparition at Lourdes are legendary. According to Victor and Edith Turner (Image & Pilgrimage in Christian Culture, New York, NY: Columbia University Press, 1978), who did an anthropological study on popular religion, people do not necessarily go on pilgrimage for the cure, but for the atmosphere in which their spiritu-ality is nourished. People see a pilgrimage, or a journey, as a symbol of the journey of life, and they value their association with fellow trav-elers oriented toward God in the service of neighbor. There is a leveling of classes on a pilgrimage; kings travel with ordinary folk, as will be the case in heaven. They volunteer as stretcher-bearers or wherever there is a need, and are energized in the role of service to their fellow human be-ings. In writing about pilgrimages to the shrine of Our Lady at Guadalupe, Segundo Galilea says that here the rich can discover the world of the poor and become sensitive to their need for justice and reconciliation. The movement towards Mary obliges the rich to go out of themselves and to meet the poor. It gives the poor a sense of security and allows them to meet the rich without apology, on an equal footing. Mary is, then, one of the rare symbols of integration in Latin America . ~ The apparition at Guadalupe in i 53 I, perhaps one of the first appa-ritions on record, is said to to be a large factor in popular religion in Latin America, and as a result, has given impetus to the liberation theology movement there. It has touched the hearts of the oppressed, making them feel that they are loved by God, and consequently raised in their own self-esteem, to the point where they are seriously struggling for self-determination in their living situation there. 352 / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 Mary and Liberation Theology A new reading of Luke's gospel, which emphasizes salvation his-tory, yields much that is pertinent today in regard to saving, or liberat-ing, the oppressed. Accustomed as we are to seeing Mary as queen, it is a new thing for us Catholics to see Mary as a peasant woman as she was at Guadalupe, and, indeed, at Nazareth. It is a challenge for us to take another look at the Magnificat, which we sing every day in the Liturgy of the Hours. There are places in South America where the recitation of the Magnifi-cat is forbidden, as being subversive. Mary's song begins with the praise of God. "My soul proclaims the glory of the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my Savior." The use of the word Savior emphasizes her stance with us, in need of salvation. She re-fers to herself as his lowly handmaid, on whom he has looked with fa-vor. All generations will call her blessed because he, the mighty one, has done great things for her. In countries where there is no middle class, but only the poor and the rich, who possess all the wealth of the land, the poor hear Mary's Magnificat message in the Virgin of Guadalupe: He has shown might in his arm; he has scattered the proud in their con-ceit. He has cast down the mighty from their thrones and has lifted up the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things and the rich he has sent away empty (Lk 1:51-53). They look to God for the mercy he promised to "our fathers,"-- and here all peoples sharing the Fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of Christ, unite in looking back even to the patriarchs, to whom God prom-ised mercy and liberation, which was accomplished first through Moses and eventually through Jesus Christ. And now there is hope for these poor also. The Exodus and Exile theme of liberation fit the situaiion to-day. A new look at Scripture will allow us to see Mary as homeless and as an exile, driveh out of her homeland to Egypt for the safety of her child. Popular religion often forges ahead of the theologians, and the hier-archy has only recently given its approval to the liberation theology move-ment in Latin America. A Latin American theologian says that the Mariology of Vatican II was more preoccupied by dialogue and relations with Protestants than with the simple people and popular Mariology. What is important now is to prolong the'deep and rich Mariological affirmations of Vatican II by a popular Mariology, a renewed Mariology . ~2 Mary, Bridge to Ecumenism? / 353 The basic idea of this renewed Mariology is that Mary is the sign and sacrament of the motherly mercy of God towards the poor, of the ten-derness of God who loves and defends the poor (Puebla, no. 291). ~3 (ital-ics mine) How will these considerations serve as an ecumenical bridge for us? By recognizing the need among peoples for freedom of conscience, free-dom from oppression, freedom of religion, justice for all. It is said that the problem with the doctrines presented for belief in former days was not with the dogmas themselves, but with authority. (Belief in the Im-maculate Conception predated the Reformation.) The wording was that he who did not believe, let him be anathema! Even Martin Luther did not deny the doctrines themselves, but pronounced them pious opinions. John XXIII insisted that there be no condemnations! He condemned no one. Evangelization itself must be an invitation, even a lure, to Christi-anity. No one is to be coerced in this matter in any way. John Paul II in Mother of the Redeemer.says that the Church's jour-ney now, near the end of the second Christian millennium, involves a renewed commitment to her mission. In the words of the Magnificat, the Church renews in herself the awareness that the truth about God who saves cannot be separated from his love of preference for the poor and humble, expressed in the word and works of Jesus. These points are di-rectly related to the Christian meaning of freedom and liberation' (p. 51 ). One must be free from oppression in order to respond to the call of Christ to do one's part toward the building up of the kingdom of God. In discussing Mary's role at the wedding feast at Cana, when she ad-vised Jesus that "they had no wine," the Pope sees this as expressing a new kind of motherhood according to the spirit and not just according to the flesh, that is to say, Mary's solicitude for human beings, her com-ing to th'em in the wide variety of their wants and needs (P. 30-1). I feel that the orientation toward ecumenism observed at Vatican Council II, especially in regard to Mary, has borne fruit and hopefully will continue to do so in the future. I am intrigued by the interpretation offered by Edward Yarnold in regard to reconciling Protestants and Catholics in regard to the Immacu-late Conception and the Assumption. It is possible that Christians disagree over the symbolic form of doctrine, while not disagreeing over the theological meaning. Thus, Roman Catho-lics could take literally that Mary was immaculately conceived and then assumed into heaven, but that is just the symbolic meaning. Protestants might not agree with that, but could accept the ultimate theological mean- 354/Review for Religious, May-June 1989 ing that says God's grace requires response, providers conditions for re-sponse, and results in sanctification even after death. There would thus be theological unity with a plurality regarding symbolic meaning. ~'~ When the late Rev. Arthur Carl Piepkorn, was professor at Concor-dia Seminary, St. Louis, he explained that "other Christians" (he did not refer to them as non-Catholics) have taken hope from references to Mary at Vatican II as follows: It may yet happen in our time that there will come about a happy bal-ance between excess ardor in the veneration of the Mother of God and in excessive coldness to the role that God himself has given her in the drama of human salvation. If it does, as I pray it will, we shall see in our time what the "Mag-nificat" placed on the lips of the mother of God--'All generations will count me blessed.' Other Christians feel that the more we esteem Mary, the more we honor her Son; when men (sic) refuse to honor Mary, they really do not believe in the Incarnation.~5 NOTES ~ William L. Lahey, "The Blessed Virgin Mary in the Theology and Devotion of the Seventeenth-Century Anglican Divines," Marian.Studies,,XXXVlll (1987), p. 143. 2 Anthony J. Tambasco, "Mary in Ecumenical Perspective," What Are They Say-ing About Mary? (Ramsey, N.J.: Paulist Press, 1984), p. 54. 3 lbid, p. 57. '~ lbid, p. 58. 5 lbid, p. 60. 6 Richard P. McBrien, Catholicism (Minneapolis: Winston Press Inc., 1980), p. 873. 7 Ibid. 8 Charles W. Dickson, Ph.'D., "Is a Protestant Mariology Possible?" Queen of All Hearts (Vol. XXXIX, No. 4) Nov./Dec. 1988, p. 26. Quoted from Willison Walker-- A History.of the Christian Church, p. 139. 9 lbid, p. 26. ~0 Clifford Geertz, "Religion as a Cultural System," Anthropological Approaches to the Study of Religion (London: Travistock Publications, Ltd., 1968), p. 13. ~ Segundo Galilea, "Mary in Latin American Liberation Theologies," ed. Bertrand de Margerie, S.J., Marian Studies, XXXVIII (1987), p. 57. ~2 Victor Codina, "Mary in Latin American Liberation Theologies," ed. Bertrand de Margerie, S.J., Marian Studies, XXXVIII (1987), p. 49. ~3 Ibid. 14 Quoted in Tambasco, What Are They Saying About Mary? p. 64. ~5 "Lutheran Hails Mary in Vatican ll's Words," The Boston Pilot (June 29, 1973), p. 2. Prayer and Devotion to Mary: A Bibliography Thomas G. Bourque, T.O.R. Father Thomas Bourque, T.O.R., is Chairperson of the Philosophical and Religious Studies Department of St. Francis College in Loretto, Pennsylvania. He has been involved in youth ministry, parish ministry, and the ministry of Catholic education and adul( education. His address is St. Francis College; Loretto, PA 15940. The Marian Year is meant to promote a new and more careful reading of what the Council said about the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God, in the mystery of Christ and of the Church . We speak not only of the doctrine of faith but also of the life of faith, and thus of authentic "Marian spirituality," seen in the light of tradition, and especially the spirituality to which the Council exhorts us. Marian spirituality, like its corresponding devotion, finds a very rich source in the historical expe-rience of individuals and of the various Christian communities present among the different peoples and nations of the world. John Paul II Mother of the Redeemer, #48 ~,lohn Paul II invites all of us to reflect upon our.journey of faith with our Lord in light of our relationship with his Mother Mary. As many Catho-lics and Christians continue to question the role of Mary in the Church today, the Pope's encyclical is very timely. Solid devotion to Mary can only spring from an authentic knowledge of her role in salvation history. The Mariology of John Paul lI's encyc-lical, Mother of the Redeemer, as well as the Mariology of Paul Vl's ex-hortation, Devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary, can truly be summed in the words of Paul VI: "In Mary, everything is relative to Christ and de-pendent upon him." Both pontiffs remind us that Mary is never to be 355 356 / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 considered in isolation. She must be seen in relationship to Christ, the head, and to his Body, the Church. Both Paul VI and John Paul II con-tinually link Mary to Christ, and not only is Mary Mother of Jesus, but also to the Church. The basic principle of Mariology is that Mary is Mother and Associ-ate of the Redeemer. She is a woman of faith, simplicity, loving avail-ability, and a disciple of faith. As a follow-up to the Marian year, the following selected bibliogra-phy is offered as an aid for reflection and prayer. This selected bibliog-raphy can serve as a guide to study and reflection on the contemporary devotion to Mary. The concentration of this work is a modern approach to Mariology from the time of the apostolic exhortation, Devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary, to the time of promulgation of the encyclical let-ter, Mother of the Redeemer. The selected bibliography is divided into four sections. The first sec-tion consists of books which deal with Marian prayer, devotion and spiri-tuality. The second section lists articles from periodicals from the years 1974 to 1987. Encyclicals and pastoral letters are cited in the third sec-tion, while typescripts and tape cassettes of value are cited in the fourth section. Books and Pamphlets: Ashe, Geoffrey. The Virgin. London: Routledge and Paul, 1976. ¯ Bojorge, Horacio. The Image of Mary: According to the Evangelists. New York: Alba House, 1978. Branick, Vincent P., ed. Mary, the Saint and the Church. Ramsey, New Jersey: Paulist Press, 1980. Brown, Raymond E., ed. Mary in the New Testament. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1978. Buby, Bertrand. Mary: The Faithful Disciple~. New York: Paulist Press, 1985. Callahan, Sidney. The Magnificat: The Prayer of Mary. New York: Seabury Press, 1975. Carberry, John Cardinal. Mary Queen and Mother: Marian Pastoral Reflections. Boston: St. Paul Editions, 1979. Carretto, Carlo. Blessed Are You Who Believed. Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 1982. Carroll, Eamon R. Understanding the Mother of Jesus. Wilmington, Delaware: Michael Glazier, Inc., 1979. Cunningham, Lawrence and Sapieha, Nicolas. Mother of God. San Francisco: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1982. A Mary Bibliography / 357 Deiss, Lucien. Mary, Daughter of Zion. Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1972. Flanagan, Donal. In Praise of Mary. Dublin: Veritas Publications, 1975. --. The Theology of Mary. Hales Corner, Wisconsin: Clergy Book Service, 1976. Flannery, Austin P. The Documents of Vatican II. New York: Pillar Books, 1975. Graef, Hilda C. Mary: A History of Doctrine and Devotion. New York: Sheed and Ward, Two Volumes, (Volume I, 1963 and Volume II, 1965). --. The Devotion to Our Lady. Milwaukee: The Bruce Publishing Company, 1963. Greeley, Andrew M. The Mary Myth: On the Femininity of God. New York: Seabury Press, 1977. Griolet, Pierre. You Call Us Together." Prayers For the Christian As-sembly. Paramus, New Jersey: Paulist Press, 1974. Guste, Bob. Mary At My Side. Mystic: Twenty-Third Publications, 1986. Habig, Marion. The Franciscan Crown. Chicago: Franciscan Her-ald Press, 1976. Harrington, W. J. The Rosary: A Gospel Prayer. Canfield, Ohio: Alba House, 1975. Haughton, Rosemary. Feminine Spirituality: Reflections on the Mys-tery of the Rosary. Paramus, New Jersey: Paulist Press, 1976. Hertz, G. Following Mary Today. Huntington, Indiana: Our Sunday Visitor Press, 1979. Houselander, Caryil. Lift Up Your Hearts to Mary, Peace, Prayer, Love. New York: Arena Letters, 1978. Hurley, Dermot. Marian Devotion For Today. Dublin: C. G. Neale, 1971. Jegen, Carol Frances. Mary According To Women. Kansas City: Leaven Press, 1985. Jelly, Frederick. Madonna: Mary in the Catholic Tradition. Hunt-ington, Indiana: Our Sunday .Visitor Press, 1986. Johnson, Ann. Miryam of Judah: Witness in Truth and Tradition. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1987. --. Miryam of Nazareth. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1986. Jungman, Joseph A. Christian Prayer Through The Centuries. New York: Paulist Press, 1978. 351t/Review for Religious~ May-June 1989 Kern, Walter. New Liturgy and Old Devotions. Staten Island, New York: Alba House, 1979, 119-184. Kung, Hans and Moltmann, Jurgen. ed. Mary in the Churches. New York: Seabury Press, 1983, Concilium, volume 168. La Croix, Francois de. The Little Garden of Our Blessed Lady. Ilkley, England: Scholar Press, 1977. Long, Valentine. The Mother of God. Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1976. Maestri, William. Mary: Model of Justice. New York: Alba House, 1987. Malinski, Mieczslaw. Joyful, Sorrowful, Glorious Reflections on Life and Rosary. Chicago: Claretian Publications, 1979. Maloney, George A. Mary: The Womb of God. Denville, New Jer-sey: Dimension Books, 1976. Moloney, John. Pilgrims With Mary. Dublin, Ireland: Irish Messen-ger, 1976. Obbard, Elizabeth Ruth. Magnificat: The Journey and the Song. New York: Paulist Press, 1986. Pelikan, Jaroslav. Flusser, David. Lang, Justin. Mary: Images of the Mother of Jesus in Jewish and Christian Perspective. Philadelphia: For-tress Press, 1986. Pennington, Basil. Daily We Touch Him. Garden City, New Jersey: Doubleday, 1977, 135-148. Rahner, Karl. Mary, Mother of the Lord. New York: Herder and Herder, 1963. Randall, John. Mary, Pathway To Fruitfulness. Locust Valley, New York: Living Flame Press, 1978. Ratzinger, Joseph. Daughter Zion: Meditations On The Church's Marian Belief. San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1983. Rosage, David. Praying With Mary. Locust Valley, New York: Liv-ing Flame Press, 1980. Ruether, Rosemary Radford. Mary, the Feminine Face of the Church. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1977. Schillebeeckx, Edward. Mary, Mother of the Redemption. London: Sheed and Ward, 1964, 164ff. Sheed, Frank. The Instructed Heart--Soundings At Four Depths. Huntington, Indiana: Our Sunday Visitor Press, 1979. Stevens, Clifford. The Blessed Virgin: Her L~]'e & Her Role In Our Lives. Huntington, Indiana: Our Sunday Visitor Press, 1986. Tambasco, Anthony. What Are They Saying About Mary? New A Mary Bibliography / 359 York: Paulist Press, 1984. Unger, Dominic J. The Angelus. Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1956. Viano, Joseph. Two Months With Mary. New York: Alba House, 1984. Wright, John Cardinal. Mary Our Hope. San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1984. Articles: Abberton, J. "On the Parish: Marian Devotion." Clergy Review. 63 (April 1978), 147-150. Albrecht, Barbara. "Mary: Type and Model of the Church." REvtEw ~oR REt~tG~Ot~S. 36 (1977), 517-524. Alfaro, Juan. "The Marioiogy of the Fourth Gospel: Mary and the Struggles for Liberation." Biblical Theology Bulletin. 10 (January 1980), 3-16. Barrionveuo, C. "For A Better Rosary." Christ to the Christian World. 18 (I 979), 304-307. Billy, Dennis J. "The Marian Kernel." REview ~oR R~t.~ous. 43 (May/June 1983), 415-420. Blackburn, Robert E. "The Reed of God Continues To Flourish." U.S. Catholic. 47 (May 1982), 2. Browne, Dorothy. "Mary, the Contemplative." Spiritual Life. 23 (Spring 1977), 49-60. Buby, B. "The Biblical Prayer of Mary: Luke 2:19-51 ." R~v~w RE~.tG~Ot~S. 39 (July 1980), 577-581. Buono, Anthony M. "The Oldest Prayers to Mary." Catholic Di-gest. 48 (August 1984), 111-113. Burns, Robert E. "Don't Let Sleeping Devotions Lie." U.S. Catho-lic. 52 (January 1987), 2. Carberry, John Cardinal. "Marialis Cultis: A Priestly Treasure." Homiletic and Pastoral Review. 78 (May ! 978), 7-13. Carroll, Eamon. "A Survey of Recent Marioiogy." Marian Stud-ies. 36 (1985), 101-127. b. "A Survey of Recent Mariology." Marian Studies. 35 (1984), 157-187. --. "A Survey of Recent Marioiogy." Marian Studies. 31 (1980), 11-154 (Similar surveys may be found within volumes 24 to 31 of Marian Studies). b. "A Woman For All Seasons." U.S. Catholic. 39 (October 1974), 6-11. 360 / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 --. "In the Company of Mary." Modern Liturgy. 9 (May 1982), 4-10. -- "Mary After Vatican II." St. Anthony Messenger. 91 (May 1984), 36-40. --. "Mary and the Church: Trends in Marian Theology Since Vati-can II." New Catholic World. 229 (November-December 1986), 248- 250. --. "Mary, Blessed Virgin: Devotion." New Catholic Encyclope-dia. 9 (1967), 364-369. -- "Mary: The Woman Come Of Age." Marian Studies. 36 (1985), 136-160. --. "Prayer and Spirituality: The Blessed Virgin Mary in Catholic Prayer-Life." Today Catholic Teacher. 12 (March 1979), 40-41. Chantraine, George. "Prayer Within the Church." Communio. 12 (Fall 1985), 258-275. Ciappi, L. "The Blessed Virgin Mary Today and the Contemporary Appeal of the Rosary." Origins. 44 (October 30, 1975), 4. Clark, Allan. "Marialis Cultus." Tablet. 228 (April 6, 1974), 354- 356. Colavechio, X. "The Relevance of Mary." Priest. 36 (June 1980), 14-16. Coleman, William V. "A Peasant Woman Called to Guide the Church." Today's Parish. 13 (May-June 1981), 7. Coiledge, E. "The Church At Prayer: To The Mother of God." Way. 19 (July 1979), 230-239 and 19 (October 1979), 314-321. Conner, Paul. "The Rosary Old Or New?" Sisters Today. 59 (Oc-tober 1986), 108- I 10. Curran, Patricia. "Women Reclaim the Magnificat." Sisters Today. 55 (August-September 1983), 24-30. Daly, Anne Carson. "A Woman For All Ages." Homiletic and Pas-toral Review. 86 (May 1986), 19-22. Davies, Brian A. "Mary In Christian Practice." Doctrine and Life. 26 (June 1976), 403-407. Deak, Mary Ann. "Mary's Faith: A Model For Our Own." Catho-lic Update. UPD 108 (I 978). Dehne, Carl. "Roman Catholic Popular Devotions." Worship. 49 (October 1975), 446-460. Demarco, A. "Hail Mary." New Catholic Encyclopedia. 6 (1967), 898. Donnelly, Dorothy H. "Mary, Model of Personal Spirituality." A Mary Bibliography / 361 New Catholic World. 219 (March-April 1976), 64-68. Emery, Andree. "On Devotion To Mary." New Covenant. 11 (May 1982), 12-14. Finley, Mitchel. "Rediscovering The Rosary." America. 148 (May 7, 1983), 351. Fischer, Patricia. "The Scriptural Rosary: An Ancient Prayer Re-vived." Catechist. 20 (October 1986), 21. Flanagan, Donald. "The Veneration of Mary: A New Papal Docu-ment." Furrow. 25 (1974), 272-277. Frehen, H. "The Principles of Marian Devotion." The Marian Era. 10 (1971), 34-36 and 272-277. Foley, Leonard. "Mary: Woman Among Us." St. Anthony Messen-ger. 94 (May 1987), 12-16. Gabriele, Edward. "In Search of the Woman: Reformulating the Mary Symbol in Contemporary Spirituality." Priest. 42 (February 1986), 28-29. Gaffney, John P. "APortrait of Mary." Cross and Crown. 24 ~Spring 1975), 129-138. h. "Marialis Cultis: Guidelines to Effective Preaching." Priest. 38 (December 1982), 14-18. Galligan, John Sheila. "Mary: A Mosaic Joy." REw~wFoR R~L~G~Ot~S. 43 (January-February 1984), 82-92. Galot, Jean. "Why the Act of Consecration to Our Lady?" Origins. 3 (January 18, 1982), Galvin, John P. "A Portrait of Mary In the Theology of Karl Rahner." New Catholic World. 229 (November-December 1986), 280- 285. Gordon, Mary. "Coming To Terms With Mary." Commonweal. 109 (January 15, 1982), 1. Green, Austin~ "The Rosary: A Gospel Prayer." Cross and Crown. 28 (June 1976), 173-178. Grisdela, Catherine. "How May Processions Began." Religion Teacher's Journal. 18 (April-May 1984), 28. Gustafson, J. "A Woman For All Seasons." Modern Liturgy. 9 (May 1982), 4-10. Hamer, Jean Jerome Cardinal. "Mary, Our Foremost Model." Con-templative Life. 10 (1985), 173- i 74. Hanson, R. "The Cult of Mary as Development of Doctrine." Way ,Supplement. 51 (Fall 1984), 8-96. Hebblethwaite, P. "The Mariology of Three Popes." Way Supple- 369/Review for Religious, May-June 1989 merit. 51 (Fall 1984), 8-96. Herrera, Marina. "Mary of Nazareth in Cross-cultural Perspective." Professional Approaches For Christian Educators. 16 ( i 986), 236-240. Hinneburgh, W.A. "Rosary." New Catholic Encyclopedia. 12 (I 967), 667-670. Hofinger, Johannes. "Postconciliar Marian Devotions." Priest. 37 (January 1981), 43-45 and 37 (February 1981), 15-17. Hogan, Joseph. "Hail Mary." Sisters Today. 57 (January 1986), 258-261. Jegen, C. "Mary, Mother of a Renewing Church." Bible Today. 24 (May 1986), 143-166. Jelly, Frederick M. "Marian Dogmas Within Vatican II's Hierar-chy of Truths." Marian Studies. 27 (1976). --. "Marian Renewal Among Christians." Homiletic and Pastoral Review. 79 (May 1979), 8-16. --. "Reply to 'Homage To a Great Pope and His Marian Devotion: Paul VI.' " Marian Studies. 31 (1980), 96-98. -- "The Mystery of Mary's Meditation." Homiletic and Pastoral Review. 80 (May 1980), 11-20. Johnson, Elizabeth A. "The Marian Tradition and the Reality of Women." Horizons. 12 (Spring 1985), 116-135. Karris, Robert J. "Mary's Magnificat and Recent Study." REVIEW ~OR REt~G~OUS. 42 (November-December 1983), 903-908. Keolsch, Charity Mary. "Mary and Contemplation In the Market-place." Sisters Today. 54 (June-July 1983), 594-597. Kerrigan, Michael P. "The Beginnings Of A New And Prosperous Way of Life." New Catholic World. 229 (November-December 1986), 251. Kleinz, John P. "How We Got The Hail Mary." Catholic Digest. 50 (May 1986), 55-57. Koehler, A. "Blessed From Generation to Generation: Mary In Pa-tristics and the History of the Church." Seminarium. 27 (1975), 578- 606. --. "Homage To A Great Pope And His Marian Devotion." Marian Studies. 31 (1980), 66-95. Krahan, Maria. "The Rosary." Mount Carmel. (Autumn 1977), 124-131. Kress, Robert. "Mariology and the Christian's Self-Concept." REVIEW ~OR RELiGiOUS. 31 (1972), 414-419. Lawrence, Claude. "The Rosary From the Beginning To Our Day." A Mary Bibliography / 363 Christian World. 28 (July-August 1983), 194-201. Leckey, Dolores. "The Rosary Time of My Life." Catholic Digest. 47 (October 1983), 57-58. Leskey, Roberta Ann. "Ways To Celebrate Mary." Religion Teacher's Journal. 17 (April-May 1983), 28-29. Lewela, M. Pauline. "Mary's Faith-Model Of Our Own: A Reflec-tion." Africa Theological Journal. 27 (April 1985), 92-98. Low, Charlotte. "The Madonna's Decline and Revival." Insight. (March 9, 1987), 61-63. MacDonald, Donald. "Mary: Our Encouragement In Christ." REviEw FOR REt.tG~Ot~S. 44 (May-June 1985), 350-359. -- "Our Lady of Wisdom." REvtzw FOR REt.~G~Ot~S. 46 (May-June 1986), 321-331. Main, John. "The Other-Centeredness of Mary." R~w~w FOR RELIG~Ot~S. 38 (March 1979), 267-278. Maloney, George A. "A New But Ancient Mariology." Diakonia. 8 (I 973). 303-305. -- "Do Not Be Afraid To Take Mary Home." Catholic Charis-matic. 1 (October-November 1976), 30-33. --. "Mary and the Church As Seen By the Early Fathers." Diakonia. 9 (1974). Marino, Eugene A. "Mary: The Link Between Liturgy and Doc-trine." Origins. 14 (December 27, 1984), 467-471. Marshner, William H. "Criteria For Doctrinal Development in Marian Dogmas." Marian Studies. 28 (1977), 47-97. "Mary and the Saints." National Bulletin on Liturgy. 12 (Septem-ber- October ! 979), 178-183. Mary Francis. "Blessed Mary: Model of Contemplative Life." Homi-letic and Pastoral Review. 8 i (Mary 1981), 6-12. Mary of the Sacred Heart. "Remember the Rosary." Religion Teacher's Journal. 20 (October 1986),39-40. McAteer, Joan. "What the Rosary Means to Me." Ligourian. 72 (October 1984), 16-20. McCarry, Vincent P. "Mary, Teach Us To Pray." Catholic Digest. 50 (May 1986), 40-43. McDermott, John Michael. "Time For Mary." Homiletic and Pas-toral Review. 83 (May ! 983), I i- 15. McHugh, John. "On True Devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary." The Way Supplement. 25 (Summer 1975), 69-79. McNamara, Kevin. "Devotion to The Immaculate Heart of Mary." 364 / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 Furrow. 36 (October 1985), 599-604. -- "Mary Today." Furrow. 31 (July 1980), 428-450. Miller, Ernest F. "Why We Honor Mary?" Liguorian. 63 (August 1975), 13-15. Montague, George. "Behold Your Mother." New Covenant. 10 (May 198 I), 4-7. Moore, M. and Welbers, T. "The Rosary Revisited." Modern Lit-urgy. 9 (May 1982), 4-10. Motzel, Jaqueline. "Growing Through the Rosary." Liguorian. 73 (October 1985), 28-3 I. NC News Service. "Mary: An Image of Obedience and Freedom." Our Sunday Visitor. 75 (April 12, 1987), 17. Nienaltowski, Mary Ellen and Metz, Kathleen. "How Do We Pray The Rosary?" Religion Teacher's Journal. 21 (March 1987), 17-18. Noone, P. "Why Catholics Hail Mary?" U.S. Catholic. 44 (May 1979), 47-49. Nouwen, Henri J. "The Icon of the Virgin of Vladimir: An Invita-tion to Belong to God." America. 152 (May 1 I, 1985), 387-390. O'Carroll, M. "Recent Literature On Our Lady." Irish Theologi-cal Quarterly. 45 (I 978), 281-286. Offerman, Mary Columba. "Mary, Cause of Our Joy: A Bibliogra-phy On Mariology." REvl~.w ~oR RE~.~lous. 35 (1976), 730-734. Palazzini, P. "The Exhortation Marialis Cultus and the Rosary." Origins. 27 (July 4, 1974), 9-10. Pellegrino, M. "Comments on the Apostolic Exhortation: Marialis Cultus." L'Osservatore Romano. 35 (August 29, 1974), 3-1 I. Pennington, M. Basil. "The Rosary: An Ancient Prayer For All Of Us.'" Our Sunday Visitor. 72 (October 23, 1983), 3-ff. Peter, Val J. "Marian Theology and Spirituality." Communio. 7 (Summer 1980), 100-178. Puzon, B. "All Generations Shall Call Me Blessed." Sisters Today. 45 (May 1974), 533-537. Quinn, Jerome D. "Mary the Virgin, Mother of God." Bible To-day. 25 (May 1987), 177-180. Rasmussen, Eileen. "Accept Devotion To Mary." National Catho-lic Reporter. 11 (January 3 I, 1975), I I- 14. Rausch, Thomas P. "The Image of Mary: A Catholic Response." America. 146 (March 27, 1982), 231-234. Roberts, William P. "Mary and Today's Classroom." Catechist. 18 (April-May 1985), 28-29. A Mary Bibliography / 365 Schreck, Alan. "Devotion To Mary." New Covenant. 13 (July- August 1983), 14-18. Senior, Donald. "New Testament Images of Mary." Bible Today. 24 (May 1986), 143-166. Shea, John J. "Mary's Melody of Amazing Grace." U.S. Catho-lic. 47 (May 1982), 6-10. Smith, Herbert. "Mary: Mother and Disciple." Liguorian. 73 (Oc-tober 1985), 52-53. Smith, Joanmarie. "Re-Seeing the Rosary." Professional Ap-proaches for Christian Educators. 16 (1986), 12-15. Smith, Patricia. "Images and Insights: Mary In A Modern Mode." New Catholic World. 229 (November-December 1986), 269-273. Smolenski, Stanley. "Rosary or Chaplet?" Homiletic and Pastoral Review. 86 (October 1985),9-15. Snyder, Bernadette. "Who's Praying the Rosary Today?" Liguorian. 74 (October 1986), 2-6. Speyr, A. "Prayer In The Life Of The Blessed Virgin." Commu-nio. 7 (Summer 1980), 113-126. Stahel, Thomas H. "Redemptoris Mater." America. 156 (May 2, 1987), 353-354. Tambasco, A. "Mary: A Biblical Portrait For Imitation." New Catholic World. 229 (November-December 1986), 244-271. Tannehill, R.C. "The Magnificat As Poem." Journal of Biblical Lit-erature. 93 (1974), 263-275. Tutas, Stephen R. 'Who Is Mary For Me?" REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. 43 (September-October 1984), 778-780. Unger, Dominic J. "Does the New Testament Give Much Histori-cal Information About the Blessed Virgin or Mostly Symbolic Mean-ing?" Marianum. (1977), 323-347. Van Bemmel, John. "How To Pray The Rosary." Religion Teacher's Journal. 17 (April-May 1983), 29-30. Ward, Jack. "The Rosary-A Valuable Praying and Teaching Tool." Catechist. 19 (October 1985), 24-25. Ware, Kallistos, Timothy. "The Jesus Prayer and the Mother of God." Eastern Churches Review. (Autumn 1972), 149-150. Zyromski, Page. "Rosary Meditations Especially For Catechists." Catechist. 20 (October 1986), 20-22. Church Documents, Pastoral Letters and Addresses: John Paul II. "Address to a General Audience About the Rosary As An Opportunity of Pray With Mary." Origins. 44 (November 2, 1981 ), 366 / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 --. "Address to the Faithful About Mary and Her Spiritual Testa-ment." Origins. 30 (July 25, 1983), 2. --. "Address to the Faithful Saying That With the Rosary We Are Armed With the Cross and the Word." Origins. 41 (October 10, 1983), I. --. "Address to the Faithful Saying That Mary Is Present In Every Liturgical Action." Origins. 8 (February 20,, 1984), 10. --. Address to the Faithful Stressing Devotion to Mary Our Mother." Origins. 880 (April 9, 1985), 12. ~. "Address to the Faithful Urging Honor to the Infinite Majesty of God Through Mary." Origins. 891 (June 24, 1985), I. --. "Homily Announcing A Fourteen Month Marian Year To Be-gin Pentecost Sunday." Origins. 16 (January 15, 1987), 563-565. --. Mother of the Redeemer. Boston: Daughters of St. Paul, 1987. --. "Renewal of the Act of Consecration of the World to the Mother of God." Origins. 14 (April 2, 1984), 9-10. --. Redemptoris Mater. Tablet. 241 (March 28, 1987), 355-359. National Catholic Conference of Bishops. Behold Your Mother: Woman of Faith. (Pastoral Letter on the Blessed Virgin Mary). Wash-ington, D.C.: United States Catholic Conference, November 21, 1973. Paul VI. "Apostolic Exhortation: Marialis Cultus." L'Osservatore Romano. April 4, 1974. ~. "Mary, Model of the Church." REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. 34 (March 1976), 161 - 164. ~. "Renewal of Devotion to Mary." The Pope Speaks. 20 (1975), 199-203. --. Devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary. Boston: Daughters of St. Paul, 1974. Poletti, U. Cardinal. "Significance, Value and Practice of Devotion to the Rosary." Origins. 42 (October 16, 1975), 9. Transcripts, Lectures and Tapes: Clark, Alan. "The Holy Spirit and Mary." Mary's Place In Chris-tian Dialogue. (Occasional Papers and Lectures of the Ecumenical), 1982, 79-88. DeSatage, John and McHugh, John. "Bible and Tradition in Regard to the Blessed Virgin Mary: Lumen Gentium." Mary's Place In Chris-tian Dialogue. (Occasional Papers and Lectures of the Ecumenical), 1982, 51-60. Dimock, Giles. "Practical Devotion to Mary." Marian Conference A Mary Bibliography / 367 at the University of Steubenville, 1986, (Cassette). Hutchinson, Gloria. Mary, Companion For Our Journey. Cincinnati: St. Anthony Messenger Press, 1986, (Cassettes). Peffley, Bill. Prayerful Pauses With Jesus and Mary. Mystic: Twenty-Third Publications, 1987, (Audiocassettes). Pittman, Robert S. "The Marian Homilies of Hesychius of Jerusa-lem." Ph.D. Thesis. Catholic University of America, 1974. Powers, Isaias. Quiet Places With Mary: A Guided Imagery Retreat. Mystic: Twenty-Third Publications, 1986, (Audiocassettes). Scanlan, Michael. "Prominence of Mary: The Time of Visitation." Marian Conference at the University of Steubenville, 1986, (Cassette). Ware, Kallistos. "The Mother of God in Orthodox Theology and Devotion." Mary's Place in Christian Dialogue. (Occasional Papers and Lectures of the Ecumenical), 1982, 169- ! 81. An Ignatian Contemplation on the Baptism of Our Lord Michael W. Cooper, S.J. Father Michael Cooper, S.J., teaches in the Theology Department and the Institute of Pastoral Studies at Loyola University of Chicago. His address is 6525 N. Sheri-dan Road; Chicago, Illinois 60626. Baptism has once again become an integral part of the Christian experi-ence. Instead of simply an individual event between God and the bap-tized, the sacrament once more celebrates a person's entrance into the community of believers. Moreover, with the renewal and expansion of the understanding of ministry, it is baptism that now offers the founda-tion for the call to mission and service for every member of the People of God. Even with all these rich theological and liturgical developments, I have still found it difficult to make any vital connection between them and my own baptism. In part, I simply have no sentiments or recollec-tions to explore or deepen. Like many other pre-Conciliar born, I was rushed to the local parish on the Sunday following my birth to save me from a sudden case of limbo. Nor does my mother have any spiritual re-membrances of my baptism to share with me, since on that day she was still in the hospital recuperating from my worldly entrance. Thus until very recently the experiential and spiritual sense of my own baptism re-mained in a limbo of its own. The meaning and power of my own baptism finally came alive, how-ever, as I shared Jesus' experience of his own baptism during several pe-riods of prayer on my recent thirty-day retreat. The thrust of contempo-rary spirituality reminds us to pay close attention to our human experi-ence- whether in prayer, in ministry, or in the rest of life--and to ask 368 Contemplation on Baptism / 369 what the Lord might be saying or how he might be inviting. Often these moments become actual revelations of God's living Word for us-~either individually or collectively. Through these experiences we realize the Gos-pel no longer as. a onetime event in the past but as always happening-- and now most immediately to us. From this perspective of the ongoing Gospel I share the fruits of a very transforming experience of the baptism of our Lord. Though admit-tedly the very personal encounter of one individual, maybe my experi-ence will contribute to our collective efforts to reclaim the experiential and spiritual roots of our baptismal call to community and ministry with God's people. I entitled this article "An Ignatian Contemplation . . ." to highlight a very definite approach to praying the Scriptures. Instead of methodi-cally plodding through the Gospel, I contemplated, that is, I watched at-tentively and receptively the scene of our Lord's baptism, letting it touch my mind and heart. I began by reading through the scripture text (Mt 3:13-17) several times, then I put down my Bible, closed my eyes, and let the event come alive before the inner eye of my imagination. Following Ignatius' instructions in the Spiritual Exercises (no. 114), I then took my place in the scene, so that I would be experiencing the baptism as an engaged participant and not as a disinterested spectator. Paying attention to the persons, their words, and their actions, I contem-plated the event as if it were happening now for the first time. On the banks of the Jordan, Jesus steps out from the crowd and pre-sents himself to his cousin John for baptism. His voice filled with emo-tion, John protests saying, "I should be baptized by you, yet you come to me!" But Jesus responds very straightforwardly. "Let it be for now." Then in a very powerful moment of the contemplation, I hear Jesus go on to explain himself, "I'm no different from the rest of the people gath-ered here. We're all struggling to gain our human freedom and whole-ness. With all the fear and unfreedoms we carry around from growing up plus all the pressures and demands on us today, it's a wonder we're not more wounded than we are." For Jesus, this very heartfelt experience becomes his baptism into a deep identification and solidarity with the rest of the human family united together in the struggle to become more human and free. Jesus' words to John then cannot be taken as some sort of pious self-effacement. Rather, our brother Jesus is experiencing his baptism as a deep, deep bond-edness with the human family gathered at the healing waters of rebirth and wholeness. 370/Review for Religious, May-June 1989 As I continue to contemplate the baptism unfolding before me, I am drawn to even closer physical proximity with Jesus by the magnetism of his human compassion and tenderness. At the same time I begin to feel close again to several friends from whom I have parted company because of certain decisions on their part that hurt me very deeply. Along with this new feeling of closeness comes the realization that despite the pain and darkness that have separated us, there exists a deeper bond of soli-darity in the human struggle that binds us together. We are no different from each other or from the rest of the people on the face of the earth. In one way or another we are each carrying around within us parts of our wounded child and of our stressed adult. The shadow of our fuller human potential and psychic wholeness always seems to lie just beyond our reach. With this realization a lot of the bite to my pain and anger subsides and I hear myself saying very serenely, "In our choices and endeavors, we really do try to give as much as we can at the moment. Sometimes our responses aren't adequate or all that the situation might call for or that we or others might hope for. Because we will always be carrying around our wounded and unfinished selves, we at times end up creating pain and darkness--for others as well as for ourselves--despite our best and freest possible intentions at that moment. I am no different from the rest of mortals. We are all in our own way longing and strug-gling for our human freedom and wholeness as daughters and sons of the living God." These intense feelings of solidarity with my friends that ac-company these reflections free me to let go of a lot more of the pain and misunderstanding in our relationship. And almost immediately these peo-ple actually appear on the banks of the Jordan and, ecstatic and teary-eyed, we embrace one another. By this time Jesus and John are sitting off to the side talking intently to one another. I am savoring the wonderful feelings of reconciliation and the pure joy of this moment when all of a sudden my attention switches. Several close friends for whom I had initially been either .teacher, spiritual director, or mentor become present to me. These new feelings of solidarity in the human struggle now bring a different sort of bondedness with them. Any leftover images of being in some way "the expert" or "the helper" or simply the one who is a couple of steps ahead of the others seem to disappear forever. I am just acutely aware of'how similar our journeys and struggles have been at such a profound level. A marvelous celebration of deep friendship and belonging to each other takes place as they, too, appear on the banks of the Jordan and I jump up to embrace them. Contemplation on Baptism / 371 This first moment of the baptism climaxes as I join hands with my friends who have come to the Jordan. Together with Jesus and John we dance in circles and zigzag chains across the sands. Then we run into the water to splash and frolic like little children and truly we are, because so many of the hurts and wounds of growing up and of adult life are be-ing healed. This wonderful moment comes to a close when with ecstatic reverence we take turns baptizing one another in these life-giving wa-ters of human compassion and solidarity. The second major moment of the baptism begins as Jesus steps out of the water. This time the heavens open and a voice proclaims, "This is My Son, the Beloved, on whom My favor rests." Along with his sense of profound solidarity with the human family, Jesus now experiences most intensely his deep, deep solidarity with God. Because the baptism has become not only Jesus' but mine as well, I feel myself being drawn into that same solidarity with God. I now hear a voice from the heavens addressed to me, "You, too, are My son, the beloved, on whom My favor rests." Initially, I simply rest in this deep sense of belonging to God. Though still feeling very much the earthen vessel, chipped and bro-ken in so many ways, I receive nonetheless a strong assurance in the prayer that I will have whatever I need by way of resources for my per-sonal journey and for my ministry. With God's favor there will be enough of hope, courage, and justice, of human and psychic energy, and of whatever else needed for today with more to come tomorrow. The Lord has spoken . Rather than end a prayer that is really only be-ginning to unfold, I simply thank the Lord from the depths of my spirit for sh.aring the baptism with me both in contemplation and in life. This Ignatian contemplation of the baptism of our Lord invites sev-eral brief comments. First of all, we realize that the foundations for a renewed understanding of Christian baptism do not come so much from our own sacramental initiation as from sharing the experience of baptism with Jesus. Like the Lord, we are baptized into covenantal solidarity with both our brothers and sisters and with our gracious God. From this perspective, baptism loses much of its static notion as sim-ply a once-in-a-lifetime event. Especially for adults being baptized or re-claiming their baptismal call, as we did in this contemplation, the cele-bration of baptism becomes a dynamic initiation into a lifelong process that continues to open up new levels of human and divine solidarity as our Christian existence unfolds day by day. This sacred bondedness with the human family confronts the blatant Review for Religious, May-June 1989 barriers and subtle alienation that separate us from each other. Baptism invites us to embrace the human family--both near and far--as "my peo-ple" and not just God's people. Our experience is meant to mirror that of Jesus: "I am no different from anybody else." The heart of the mat-ter remains this recognition that we are all struggling with varying de-grees of success for our human freedom and wholeness--two of the gate-ways to encountering the divine in ourselves. Here, too, our experience follows the pattern of Jesus in discovering his own divinity. In facing the forces that would shrink, wound, or destroy these most precious gifts of God to us, we plumb the depths of our human resources and discover the wellsprings of the divine energy in us as well. Second, this baptism into human solidarity against the enemies of our humanity celebrates our entrance as adults into the Christian com-munity. We now recognize and claim for our own this community both broken and healed yet always struggling for greater wholeness. Third, this very sacred experience of human solidarity becomes the foundational stance for each Christian's involvement in ministry as part of our baptismal commitment. It is only from a vital sense of bonded-ness to each other that we can enter into the.joys and struggles of one another without pretense or feigned empathy. By the Lord's design we are in this human struggle together. Baptism then celebrates our call to be companions to one another and to all our brothers and sisters in the unfolding of the kingdom of God in our time. Fourth, the divine bondedness solidifies as we hear the voice from heaven address us withthe same love and promise offered to Jesus: "You are My beloved on whom My favor rests." This proclamation then nurtures our heartfelt sense of belonging utterly to God. Moreover, this divine connectedness touches all the dimensions of who we are, so that we begin to look and feel more and more with the eyes and heart of our gracious God on our~e, lves, others, and our world. In the face of our human wounds and inadequacies, this sense of di-vine favor sustains Christian perseverance and empowerment for life and ministry. We can be stretched to the limits of our understanding and of our physical and psychic energies, yet we now know deep down that no matter what comes God's favor will sustain us this day and there will be more of what we need tomorrow. From the Lord we need only ask with Ignatius in the Suscipe of the Spiritual Exercises: "Give me only Your love and Your grace; that is enough for me" (no. 234). For those hungry to deepen their commitment to Christian commu-nity and ministry, an Ignatian contemplation of the baptism may be the Contemplation on Baptism I 373 occasion to nourish those desires as they share this moment with Jesus as though it were happening for the first time. We never know whom or what we might meet on the banks of the Jordan! the woman with the hemorrhage i was tired of their pity and their prayers now for how many years each face became compulsive to be good with kindness--their helpful helplessness i've seen their looks that worried into silence "i'm so sorry" drove me to distraction until they learned my shame would last God only knowswperhaps forever then they disappeared like frightened children and the very thing

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

Issue 11.6 of the Review for Religious, 1952. ; A.M.D.G. Review for Religious NOVEMBER15, 19 5 2 Xavier the Catechist ¯ Anthony Perelra Communion of Saints ¯ " c.A. Herbs÷ OnRace Rela~tions . Gerald Kelly Address~fo Superiors . Pope Plus ×ll ¯ I 0,000 Gold Francs Or Life . Adam C, Ellis A Monument to M. Vincent . Jerome Breunig Questions and Answers Xavier Centenary Book Reviews Communications index for 19S2 VOLUME XI NUMBER RI::::Vi W FOR Ri .LIGIOUS VOLU1VIE XI NOVEMBER, 1952 NUMBER 6 CONTENTS ¯ XAVIER CENTENARY-~The Editors . 281 XAVIER THE CATECHIST--~Anthony Pereira, S.J . 282 A NEW INDULGENCED ASPIRATION . 290 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 290 THE COMMUNION OF SAINTS--C. A. Herbst, S.J . 291 FOR THE SOCIAL APOSTOLATE . 295 BOOKS--FOR NOTHING . ° . 295 NOTES ON RACE RELATIONS--Gerald Kelly, S.J . 296 TEN-YEAR INDEX . 300 10,000 GOLD FRANCS OR LIRE--Adam C. Ellis, S.J . 301 ADDRESS TO RELIGIOUS SUPERIORS--Pope Plus XII . 305 TO TEACHING SISTERS (A Quotation) . 308 COMMUNICATIONS ON INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS . 308 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 28. Use of Income from Inheritance . '. . 309 29. Must Suggestions for General Chapter be Signed? . . 309 30. Mental Prayer during Second Mass . 310 31. Helping Younger Delegates at General Chapter . 310 32. When Do I Start Counting for my Golden Jubilee? . 311 33. Lay" Sisters and Class Distinction . 311 ¯ COMMUNICATION ON CONTEMPLATIVE LIFE . 312 SETS OF BACK NUMBERS . ' . . . 314 A MONUMENT TO MONSIEUR VINCENT--Jerome Breunig, S.J. 315 BOOK REVIEWS-- The Ignatian Way to God; Saint Therese and Suffering . 325 PROCEEDINGS OF CONGRESS OF RELIGIOUS . 327 BOOK NOTICES . 328 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 329 FAMILY COMMUNION CRUSADE . 332 ANNUAL INDEX FOR 1952 . 333 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, November, 1952. Vol. XI, No. 6. Published bi-monthly : January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marsy, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942 at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board i Jerome Breunig, S.J., Augustine G. Ellard, S.J., Adam C. Ellis, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J., Francis N. Korth, 8.J. Copyright, 1952, by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Before writincj to us, please consult notice on Inside back cover. Xavier Cent:enary DECEMBER 2 will be the four hundredth anniversary of the .death of St. Francis Xavier. Since he is not only our own brother inChrist, but also one of the two principal patrons of the Society.of the-Propagation of ~he Faith' and a saint d'dmired and loved throughout the world, it Seems eminently fitting that we pay~. him some tribute in these pages. Ver'y.specially we desire to re-echo' the follow]ng~eulogy of the saint by His Excellency Dora dose da Costa Nunes, Archbishop of Goa and Damaun. and Patriarch of the East Indies, in his Pastoral Letter of February' 15, 1952: "Among so many missionaries, martyrs and saints Who have' .brought the Gospel to the East, none stands out as prominently as the Glorious Apostle. A beacon of.rare brilliance, he illumined with celestial br!ghtness these regions which were at the time involved in mystery and myth. Go where he might, he left in th~ souls of men a trail of light. No one crossed re.giqns so dFtensive in-order to sow ~he seed of the word of God. "Like th~ Doctor of the ~Gentiles, he stopped nowhere, nor did" ,'he establish himself permanently in any. place. His one aim was to prepare new s~ail and march, ahead, b1~zing'trails, raising new out-pqsts of~Christianity and firmly pla~ting the .Church, leaving ~to his co-workers the labour Of watering and he)ping to bear fruit the seed-he had cast in'the soulsof native peoples . ¯ "And yet it was not these qdalities [his missionary exploits] that conquered for him the glory that surrbunds his name. It was t'he rightful fame of his sanctity . Even before the Church .had canon-ized him, he was already canonized, in a manner of speaking, by the. King of Travaniore, who ordered a statue of him to be placed in a Hindu temple." . The Archbishop's words are quoted from The Clergy/"Monthl~! (published by the destiit Fathers, St. Mary's 'College, Kurseong, D.~.Ry., Indi/) for dune, 1952. Their entire number of The Gler~?~t Monthl~ is devotgd to St. Francis.X~vier. With the peimi,s-sion of tl~e editor, we are reprinting one of ~hearticles, "Xavier the, Catechist, by A. Pereira.,,S.d., in the present.number of 'REV.~EW FOR RELIGIOUS. In a subsequent number we shalloreprint an article "6n Xavier the missionary. THE EDITORS.:,. 281 Xavier !:he Ca!:echist: - A. Pereira, S.). -, FATHER B,ROU, S.J.~ in his life of Xavier, calls the Apostle of ¯ the East 'anincomparable catechist." His life and the" few w'riting~ he has left us prove beyond doubt th, at the title is in no way unmerited. We shall study the saint's"idea of ~atechizing, his catechisms, and his method of catechizing. A CATECHETICAL "MENTALITY" "The more universal a good workis, the more.divine." For this reason Ignatius and the Society from the very beginning considered catechizing as more important and necessary than .other ministries. In May, 1537, Ignatius and his companions resolved "that children should be tatighi Christian doctrine for the.space of an hour" a day. They confir,rned this resolution On the 11 tb of June of the same year: "It has been.~.decided,.by all, except Bobadilla, that the article about teaching children for a period of forty days and for an hour, as indi-cated above, should be made the object of a formal vow and oblige under mortal sin." The Formula of the Institute stresses the fol-lowing: "Let them'consider as especially entrusted to them the edu-cation of the children and the ig.norant in the Christian do~trine." Xavier h'ad imbibed the spirit of Ignatius and particularly hi~ esteem for. catechizing, for he wrote to the Flemish Father B, arzaeus: "That way of helping the people is better-which is the more uni-versal, for example preaching, catechizing, confessing." H~nce he did not want th~ Father-in-charge to shove the duty ofoteaching. catechism on others: "You yourself will take charge of teach"ing the prayers to lhe children of the Portuguese, to the slaves, men and women, and to the native Christians. Do not entrustthis,offic.e to others because the persons who see you doing this are much edified and morepeople, come tO listen and learn the Christian doctrine." The h0ur~0f santa doutrina was.sacred to him. How often do we read in his letters remarks'like this: "In the morning¯~ was teaching men, in the evening ~omen, in the afterndqn after dinner the chil-dren." Xavier, then, was not, as some have .styled him, "a mere meieor" flashing througfi the Fky aimlessly. He had a clear aiml Catechizing, ,he knew, was fundamental, so he consecrated the'best of his time and energy to this humbleand absorbing work: "This 282 XAVIER THE CATECHIST fruitful work on behalf of ~he children is'the important on~." Xavier's esteem for catechizing learnt from Ignatius was further enhaiaced by the circumstances of his mission. Pope Paul III, by his Pontifical Brief of 1540, sent Xavier as his legate to visit the islands of the Red Sea, of the Persian Gulf, of the Ocean (Indian Ocean?), also the provinces and places of India on either side of the Gange.s and the Cape of Good Hope. The Pope entrusted to him the mis-sioh' "to ~trengthen the Christians in their faith and to bri,ng tho~e .who did hot know i{, to know, practic_e, and keep.the.same faith." It Was the custom of the time to :administer baptism to pe0pleowhb knelt only the ess0ntials,-which were'forgotten after baptism for lack of continued and vigilant instruct, ion. The King of.Portugal insisted on nlaking Christians ("fazer muitos crist~os, fazer muita cristan-dade'.'), leavi~ag'to others the care of.instructing them. The first missionaries planted but "no watering was done." Ordinarily they stayed with the Portuguese colonists; hence "the Christians, as there is nobody to teach, them, do not know 'more than to say that.they. are Christians." But it was not safe for the priest to live in places. -where he could not get help from .the Portt~guese. In the Moro Island, for instance, Father Fern~o Vinager converted many.to'the faith but he was killed and the island was deprived of the only priest it had. , We should not forget that tl~e first Portuguese missionaries were laymen. Captains of flotillas, merchants, soldiers plaiited the cross and baptized in {he absence of priests, They had come to the East for "pepp0r and souls," but often more for pepper tharf souls. There are some exceptions, however. In 1'537 one of them, Antonio Galv~o, baptized many of the Moluccans, at their own request, and built a ~eminary. When Galv~o was relieved of.his.office, the semi-nary disappeared with him. The knowledge'of the Christian faith imparted by the soldiers, and merchants could not go very far. Much catechizing remained to be done, as Xavier keenly realized. HIS CATECHETICAL WRITINGS Many writers have tried to magnify Xavier by attributing to 'him the gift of tongues. No need for this. His personality stands out much greater if we se~ him as he was--a man of hard work. From his own letter~ we know how much labour it cost him to learn the languages and to compose his catechisms. "May it please God to give us speech!" We are amongst them like statues; they speak and chat about us and we, not understanding the language, remain quiet; 283 Review [o? Religio~s at'present we must be like children and qearn the language." _ ~ His'aim in @riting his .vhrious catechisms was to be useful to h~mself and to his fellow-missionaries, and to spread the faith in every'pos.~ible w.ay. His predecessors in the missiofi field did not try to learn the languages of~ the people. For Xavier this could not last. He learnt the essentials of our faith in their language and wrote them down.to help his memory. He wished to share with his brel~hren this 'st~cessfial method of catechizing. Whenever"h~ found ~that people could read, as in Japan, he distributed copies of his w~itings:. "This winter we shall busy ourselves with writing for the press a rather detailed exposition of the oarticles of the faith in Japa'nese. All the leading people know how .to read and write. As we cannot help all. in person, our faith may be spr.ead everywhere through printed catechisms . . ." At times he had. th(' prayers posted in the church .that all who.could read should' learn for themselves. His catechetical' writings are the, following: 1, Xavier's Catechisms. Xa~vier brought with him to India the 'Short Catechism' of John de BarroL This formed, the foundation of his catechetical teaching. His own Portuguese catechism, Doutrina., Christ8 (which was.printed in 1557 at the press of St. Paul's Col-lege; Goa), follows rather faithfully the text of de Barros, with a" few additional prayers composed by Xavier--he wanted the cate-chism" lesson to.be a prayer. During~ his four months'-stay in Tuticorin, with great labour and' the help 6f interpreters, he translated the most esser~tial parts (the Creed,-commandments, prayers, Confiteor.) int'o Tamil, for the use of the Paravas who were in such great need of instruction. It was not a masterpiece of literature as-Xavier hin~self recognized. ~He wrot'e to Father Mansilhas, his first companion among the Paravad, to point out. some corre'ctions. Father. Henrique Henriques, the at/thor of a Tamil grammar, found in it mistakes (atguns errog) and inaccuracies (mer~tiras) which he attributed to the carelessness of the interpreters: , While he stayed in Malacca, ir~ 1545~, he put intothe Malayan l~inguage "the Creed, with an exposition of the articles of the faith, the general confessidn, Pater noster, Ave Maria and the co'mmand-merits." It cost him much work, f6r "it is a .painful t~ing not to know the language." ¯ As soon as Xavier came to know Anjiro, the Japanese baptized in Goa as Paulo de Sarita F~, he made up his mind to translate the 284 XAVIER THE CATECHIST catechism~di~to d~panese. He, put his resolution into. effect with tl~e help ,of Paul, vchen h~ reached Kagoshima, the native place of Paul. He gave too much,credit to his helper. Hd could say of him, :' ,Anjiro knows hohz to write ~lapanese very well." But, as Father Valignano wrote late, r, "Paul was not a learned~man and though he tried his Best to translatel our ~doctrine into 3apanese, his work was very defec-tivel so~ much so that it was a cause of scoffing and ~idicule for the ,lapanese. !~ It neither expressed the truth which the Father was preaching.:nor was it .written in a way that their learned men could - read without l~ughter.'~ Paul was not a philosopher and Xavier was not a.linguist. In the~ circumstances more could not. be achieved;' Xavier bad to leave perfection to his successors. 2. Declaracao da Fd (Explanation of the faith). This is a.de-tailed explahation of the Creed. The catechism has laid the founda-tions. The Christians were prepared for" more substantial food. ¯ Xavier starts his explanation from the dreation of the world, and then ex!boses the history of the coming of Christ. He wrote this work whilein Ternate in 1546; in 1548 he asked the Tamilian secular priest Gaspar Coelho to translate it into Tamil. Later, with' the help 9f Anjiro, he put it 'into dapanese--another work of Paul's that was not a piecd of art. The Portugues~ text was printed in Goa, ¯ in 1557, together with Xavier's Portuguese catechism. .3. Ordem e regimento (Christian rule of life) is a manual o~ devotidns, the necessary complement of the catechism. Ithas morning and evening prayers taken from his ~atechism, the examen of conscience and various, other, prayers. There is a meditation on sin, mortal and venial, and even a method of hearing Mass for children. 0 - 4. Instruction/:or Catechists. To the Fathers working in India Xavier proposes a method of catechizing, the fruit.of his own experi-ence. From these pages we get a vivid picture of Xavier's own cate-chism classes. Descriptions of hi~ method are also found in a number of his letters. HIS METHOD ¯ Xavier;s ~catechetical method can bd reduced to four points: natural meansl supernatural means, use of lay-helpers, and .the prin-ciple of adaptation. Natural Means "There is nothing in the mind that was not first in the senses,'" philosophy teaches us. The p,edagog~ of the senses plays a great part. 285 , in Xavier s method. ' Ret:iew'~or Reli'gious~ ¯ - His' classes: began With. a processibnfand con.~intied.as,a li~;ing, difilogu.e. ~ procession! 'rich' and. poor, chil- .d~n"dnd grown-ups, went in p~oces~ion' to th*e church. In" Goa', fiS Xavier~himsel'f writes, morethhn 300 childr~nt00k par~. On Sign-days the' church overflowed With people. The Para~vfis did not g0~ fishing on Sundays; in th~ n~orning they came t6 Mass~ and in the evening "there was a great reunion of all-the inhabitan~ "of,.the .~,il"-i lage, men and Women, "young and*' old, to recite .th'e prayers in thei~ langBag~. They ~how great p!~asure a'nd come With.al~icrity.'; .His class w'~s a living 'dialogue. The catechist did. not do 'all'the ialking~ Everybody was awake 'to what was h~ppening: "My brethre,n," he asked," "do you believe that "this our God,is the. only . true God?" They all replied: "Web~lieve.'". His teiiching was a lesson thatentered the soul by various sonses~ .The eyes'were cau.gbt by the ,ver~ fervor and, enthusiasm of the Santo Padre, th~ ears by the holy ~s'ong~, the.unariimou~resp6nse~ andthe clear repetition¯ of the formulae. India'ns for centuries were singing their Puranas. Xavier disc0ve.red ihat singin'g was"the thi~ng for the people of.the- East. In Goa, the custom introduced by Xavier was to be followed byhis'successors. In~ 1578 Father Francis Pasio ,wrote that he ha~l witnessed childreri singing the Christian doctrine" "in a bright and devout melody.'[ They sang it both in Portuguese and- Konkani. F~ther Barzaeus, who followed Xavier's method, closely, ¯wrote the following: "Children go about the street singing the Christian doc-trine: even the Moors go through ~he streets, singing the doctrine heard from ihe boys: in the name'of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost." Xavier himself gives testimony to what hap-pened in T~ernate: "It is.a reason to give thanks to Our Lord for the fruits which God obtained by imprintii~g in the hearts of His. crea-tures: canticles of His praise and honor, in a people recently converted¯ to His faith. It is customary'in Maluco, to Hear the boys in-the squares, the women and the girls day'and night in their houses, the workmen in the fields, the fishermen on the sea,. singing not~friv- Olous songs, but holy canticles as the Credo, Pater Noster, Ave Maria, ¯ the commandments, works'of mercy, and, the general confesSion.and . many other prayers." Xavier's class was a kind of drama where everybody~had to play his part.~ 'Raising the bandsor, extending' them, placing /hem on the breast-whilst s'aying "I believe," looking up to heaven . "these simple gestures k.ept the people active and intere,sted in. the class.~ ¯ ,- . 286 gi?acei''~ Fiai~15 i~ a gift of God~ih~r~fore it' is "tO' be bbt~ined b~ " prayer. CateChism~ class for Xavier ~vas,; d~i!(f0~,afi'~ exerciSe~:{~f prayer.~ Fie b~gan i~ with pr~yer, mingled it .w!thPr~er, and 'e~' .it With 'p~ayer.~ BefOre explaining a'comm~fidhaent, Xavier and :,audience a~ked Our:.Ladyfor.th~. grace, of unders(ahding. A~ the e6d . of hi~ explanation' 'thcy'~k.ed pard0n~' for pa~t faults 'agai~ist ti~ cbmmand,m~ent expl~'ifl'ed~' The cla~s "erid¢'d witfiI' prayer: "Let ia's sa~r ~even Paters an, d sev.en Ayes in honour of th~ Holy° Ghost that may help us, :to believe"fi~mly'wha~the holy¯ Catholic~ f~aith teaches fis." Somebody may object dsat" ~0rnmon :pr~yers."e~isily be.come mere ga.bbling. Xavier fg.restalled "the d~hger by alterh~iting' coin-moil and private., praye.r. "~The Paie~ and Ave'shduld be recited by everybody silently;)" He wanted to accustoin ::tl~em to personal, ,p, rayer. ¯ ¯ ¯ " ~. ¯ Lay-apostles . Xavier had expected hel~ from Et~rop~. ~et he realized their, even so, Parava laymen were indispen.sable.for the conversion and training of the .Paravas. He. thus. forestalled.6Ur pre~ent-da)i lay-apostolate in'.his Organization of the catechists." .In ,the v!llages he ~ Visite,d, l~e"left a copy of his Tamil catechi'sm' and-~ommisSioned a Christian,¯ the kanakapi'llei,, 'to instruct the people, The kan~akapiliei was~.0rdinarily.the-headmari of the village. :.:Xa~,ier wanted to ap, proach the :masses through th~ 'leaders., .~ ' ~ ,' . '" The kanakapillbi¯ (cat~chist~s) producedwonderful fruits. The~ represented the Father "in.his absence, report, ed_ abuses, inquired about impediments .for marriage, proclaimed the banns. "Father Francis in-stituted the .order of kanakapillei whith exists o°h this coast and" i~ has contributed so ~m'uch to the g'lory, of God and:the good of souls: He taught them the form or the rite of baptisin, hi enjoined on them to baptize~n case of necessity, to provide for urgen~ 'needs. Even today, they take care of the" Church, they are l~ke sacristans; they baptize without ~eremonieS, when it.is iargent; .they teach Christian doctririe ~twice a day, to the boys in the. morning and to the gi~lsfin~ the eve= ning, in Latin and in the language of (he 'counf~y"-; thus wrote Teixeira, one df the first historians df .Xavier: Of c0urs.e, the Para-v ¯as did not¯ under.sta~id.Latinbu, t' w l S" a"t ',. X" awer wished wasto accu's-tom them little,by little to tak~ean active'part in thelff~rgy.' The , 2:87 A.- PEREIRA. ~ " . Rt-~ie~ for Religi'ods organization of the kanakal~illei produced wonderful fruit even cdn-turies later. Father;Pi.er, re Martin wrote in 1700:~ "On,e of the things ~at. con~t.ri.bute ,too.st. t.o .make this Christianity so remarkable among others is the.diligence with which the small,est children areo,taught Chrfftian doctrine. This ho'l~y~ustpm has been kept inviolably the times of St. FranCis Xavier. He. was ,convince'd that the faitfi .would strik~ ~oots in the heaits Of' the inhabitants, if from a tender age. ~. h e y . were well" "i n"structed. " The k~n,akapille~! s.aved the faith among the P.aiav~as during the.time of the. pei'secution and in the ab-sence of pri.e.sts. ~. . . The support of the catechists v~as. one Of the great preoccupa-tions of Xavier. He.wrote to Father Mansilhas to obtain help from the giceioy.ThePa,ravas were.paying 400 gold pardaos "for the, slippers of the Queen of Portugal.r'. Xavier wrote to her to relin-. quish the "slipper money", for the benefit of the catechis.ts, remarking jocosely that the best slippers would be the children saved with that money. These would carry her to heaven. Another origin~al ~trait bf Xavier's method is.his h~bit of associ- - ating to his work Goan, Tamilian, .Travancorian, and Malsyan children. First of all:he believed in "the power of their interces-sion." He himself prayed to the children who died after he. had baptized them. He insisted with Father Mansilhas to make the chil-dren pray for .his intentions. Then he.made them share in his active apostolgte. He taugh~ them the prayers that. they, in their turn, might teachthem at home. "For a month I taught' them the prayers, enjoining on the boys to teach what'they-bad learnt in the school to their parents and to all the members of.the house and.neighbours." The children took to it with enthusiasm. They taught ,the prayers-in a pleasant way, for they "sang them," .They prgv~d their zeal in other ways. "They reprehend their parents,: when.they see tfiem practi~ing idol.arty . they come to inform me when such things are 'done . They burn the idols to. ashes." They. were bold enough to challenge the pagans: "they fight with the paga.ns"., and. Barzaeus wrote: "The.boys dis-cuss with the Moors and tell them that the~ cannot be saved, with-out baptism." . . , Xavier shared with the children even the power of. ~iracles. People called on him right and left. It.was.impossible for him to attend, to all: "So many., came to, cal_l me to their .houses to say some .prayers over.the, sick: ~.r .- and since it was not in_ my power~ to deny ¯288 November, 1952 XAV-IER THE CATECHIST such a holy'request. I halve settled the ma~tter in. a Way to.satisfy. all: I have brdered the boys who know .the p~ayers t6' go to the homes' 0f.'the sick and to gather all tl~e nhembers ~of the" hoi~se find tl~e neighbors: a~d to "say together the Credo ovdr and. over.again, telling the sick man to have faith, that he may be cured; and then ~he o~her' prayers. ThuS,,by'the. faith of the,members~of the house of the neighbors, and. o~ the si~k th~mselve,s, God Our" Lord g~anted many favours to the sick, rest6rin~ to them corporal andspiritual 'health. God has ihown great mercy to the ailing: He ~alied them tlJrough sickness, and as it were by forc~ He brought them to the faith." Adaptation 0 A last trait of Xavier's method, is his care to adapt himself to the people ofdifferent'temperam.ents and places. For Goa and t.h.e other Portuguese fo~ts he made himself a catechist a preacher, and a theo-logian. , For these places he requeste.d theolog!ans an.d.preachers." For the Paravas he made l~imself a goqd catechist:' .No need of much learning here: "The persons who hav'e no talent for preaching and confessions., would do much service in these parts'to the infi-dels if they had the corporal and spiritual force~, because there is no need of letters . let them be fit for many corporal works." Among the Japanese, Xavier became both'h ~atechist and 'a. savant. From the very beginning he spent time ahd ene'rgy to trans-late his more developed work, A Declaracao "da Fd, into.Japanese~=He wanted learned meii for Japa, n. ~ But Xavier pra~tlsed "adaptation" above all in his moral approach to the.pedple he had to deal with. T-he Indians easily over-look any imperfection in a priest except impatience. A priest, accord-ing to the Indian mentality, shouldbe a mirr6r of God's serenity. People came to'Xavier at odd hours ~ind children left him no'respite even f6r meals: yet. he never showed the slightest impatience: "When I reached the plac~ the children did not allow ine either to say mY office, or eat, or rest before I taught them some prayers," He wrote to Father Mansilhas: "Pray God to give you much patidnce ;to deal with this'pebple"; and in another letter: '.'L- ea~rn to bear their weak-nesses with patience, reflecting that if they are not good' now, they will be so some day." "I entreat you very much never, on an~r ac-count, to lose your temper with these troublesome people: and When ~ou have much.work and cannot satisfy alL .console yourself by. doing what you can. ~lways'bear with these, pe'6ple ~ith great 289" patience; but. if in:.som'e ¯case. kindness' doe~" not succeed., then~practlse that work'of mercy which"says,'tl-iou wilt chastise himwho'deserv~s to be chastised/" And to Fatl~er Barzaeus he wr0t~:."With this people of ,India',' much is.accomplished by exhortation,~ and nothing by force." ~ ¯ ' Xavier knew that mutUhl love .between the catechist and the pupils makes'his tea'c.hing m6re acceptable. He wrote'.to his c0m-panions bn the Fishery Coast: "Try. with all your might to make y6urself loved by'this people because if you are loved by them, you willpiod~ce much more fruit than if yoh are~ disliked by them. Again, I recommend you to take pains to make yourself loved by the people." It is worth noting ~he stress the saint lays ',not so much ¯ on' themis~sic~nary iovingth~ people but on the j~e6ple loving the" miss!ona,ry.~' People's love for the missionary will be an index of his lpve and devotiori to t~em. Love made up for . Xavier's d~fi-, ciencies, in the l~nguage, for example. It was one of the factors that made of him "ari incomparable catechist." A NEW INDULGENCED ASPIRATION By reason of special faculties granted to it by Our Holy Father, Pope Plus XII. ¯ the Sacred Penitentiary grants to all the faithful who have pidusly'recited th.e invo-cation, "Lord,° teach us to pray/,'" the following indulgences:' (1) a partial¯ indul' genre of three hundred~ ¯ days; (2) .a, plenar~ indulgence,¯ under the usual conditions, tb be gaine~l once a ~nth, if~this inyocation has been piously recited daily through-out ah entire month (April 30,. 195T, Acta Ap. 8edis,~1952, p. 389).' " Our readers will dovcell to'r~meml~er that Canon 928, § 2 states that "unles~ the contrary is expressly indicated, a partial indulgence may be gained a numbdr of times ada, y as, of~en-as the good work is repe~ted." Since the decree of the S:Peni-t. e, ntiary, contains no limiting clause, the partial indulgence of 30"0 days may be gained a.s~ often as the invoc.ation given above is repeated with a contrite, heart. ANTHONY., ~, PEREIRA. ," . ,was.,.°rdained. . a priest on November,, 11 of., the present, . year at.S't" Mary's theologate., Kurs.eong. India:~he is a':Goan.a.nd~ belongs to. the Mission of Goa. ~. A. HERBST is'bn the faculty of St. Mary's College. St. Marys, Kansas. AD~}C'i.~'~,"IS,"G~'I~.ALD KEL, L~.' a~i JEROME BREUNIG~'are members o~'the edi,," tbriai'.board of the"REV[E~" FO~. RELIGIOUS.~ ~ ~'; ~ ~" 290 The Commumon 0t: Sa'int s BELIEVE in the Holy Ghos~ the,.holy'Catholic Church. the Communion of Saints.'" Holy'Mo.ther .Church must think this doctrineof the Communion of Saints very important, and must want her children to bear it clearly in mind, and ~o'think.o.f i~ very ofte.n, since it appears so explicitly.in" the short profe~ion of faith we call the Apostles' Creed. The Church does because. Christ. ,. did., H~ came to found a kingdom to, which, all do Or can belong, the just find the unjust and the poor. and the unfortunate,.'~nd in which the little ones are the favorites. The. angels belong, too, and " r~joic'e when even,one sinful brother does penance. In the perfect prayer we pray as the members bf a family: our Father, give us, for-give us, l'ehd us not into temptation. " St.'Peter s~ys: "'You are a .chosen generation, a kingly priesthood, a ,holy nation, a purchase.d people . (you) are now the people bf God" ('I Peter 2:9-10). St.'Paul says: "You are all the children of God" (Gal. 3, 26). And St. 3ohn: "That which we have seen and heard, we declare unto you, that you also may have fellowship with us, and our fellowship may be with the Father, and with his Son desus. Christ" (I dohn I,. 3). ' "T'he Communion of saints is ~he spiritual solidarity ~vht~h binds together the faith.f, ul on earth, the souls in purgatory, and the saints in heaven.,.The participants, in that solidarity are called saints'by reason of their destination and of their partaking of the fruits of the redemption." (Catholic Encgclopedia, s.v.) The church triumphant in heaven, su~ering in purgatory, fighting on earth, constitute one church, .one society, 6he- family. The chfirch triumphant, suffering, fighting are as three orders'of the same society, three battle-lines of the same army, three branches of the same vine, three limbs of the same mighty ~ree. Christ communkates Hi~ merits to each irfdividual and there is in turn a mutual interchange of °good ottices between each "saint." "The Corn .m.union of Saims compr, ises, and is made fruitful, by, three great vital,.movements. A.stream of, ardent love flows from the Chu,ch;.Triumpha, nt to the members of Christ on earth, and thence returns, i.n,.c.9~ntless rushing brooks to the" blessed in heaven. A similar tratiic of lo~e takes place l~etween 291 t C. A~ HERBST, , ~ Review'for Religious the members of the,Church Stlffering and the Churchl Militant. And thirdly that same communion operates between the several ~members of. the Church Militant, producing those fruitful,!centres of life whereby th~ earthly fellowship is continually renewed.',~ '(Karl Adam, Tb~ Spirit of Catholicism, 115.) We on earth belong to the church militant. ~re must fight. We. are soldiers. We are sealed to this by ,the sacrament of confirmation ".through whithwe receive the Holy. Ghost to make us strong and perfect Christians and soldiers of Jesus Christ." In th~ ceremonies of the administration of this. sacrament the bishop gives us a slight blow on the cheek to remind us that we must be ready to suffer any-thing, even death, for the sake of Christ. Even a little child is a soldier in.the church on earth. We are soldiers in the church mili-tant, but soldiers without guile, without., malice, weak even, and foolish like God, "for the foolishness of God is wiser than men; and the weakness 6f God, is stronger than men~" (I Cor. 1 ~25). We, are invincibly armed With the eight-fold blessing of the beatitudes: poor. in spirit, meek, clean of heart, merciful; we mournl hunger and .thirst after justice, are peacemakers, suffer per, secution for justice' sake. , We fight with spiritual weapons, especially with prayer. -We .pray for one another here on ~arth. "Give us this day .our .daily bread, and forgive us ou_r trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us, and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.". We pray for one another that we may save our souls, for our father and mother and those dear to us, and for a sick friend. ask for favors and for .the conversion of sinners. We pray at Mass and ¯ offer it "for all those present and for allfaithful Christihns," for the holy father and the .bishop by name, and pause to make a special prayer'for the., living. It would be but belaboring the obviousto dwell at length on the intercession of the "saints" here on earth for one another and on the wonderful fruits that.comer from their, good offices in behalf of one another. T.he church' suffering ~s in purgatory, where the souls of, ~he just not yet fully ptlrified are cleansed. Nothing defiled can ~nter heaven. We cai~ help them. The Council of Trent teaches that "there .is a purgatory and that the souls detained .there are: helped by the suffrag,es of the faithful and most of all by the acceptable sacrifice Of the altar" (Decretum de purgatorio). So we follow them with our prayegs. We are still bound to them by the bond of love, by the bond of Christian charity, which is the blood-stream that vivifies 292 November, 1"952, THE COMMUNION O~ SAINTS the communion of ¯saints. Even death cannot break-that bond. "Love is stronger than death." "Charity never falleth away: whether pr6phecies shall be made void, or tongues shall cease, or knowledge shall be destroyed" (I Cot.' 13:8). "Charity which' is the.bond uniting the members of the Church.extends no~.0nly~to the living but also to the dead who die in chari~y. For charity, which is the life of the soul, even as the soul is the life of the body. does not cease." (S. Thom., Suppl.,,q. 71, a. 2.) "It is the'refore a hply and wholesome tl'iought to pray for the dead, othat they may be 16os'ed from their sins" (II Mach. 12:46). This has always been the mind of holy. l~other Church for all .her children, an~ today, as for alm6st two thousand years, ther~ fails f~rom the lips of countless millions the plea! "Eternal rest grant unt~ them, O Lord. and let perpetual light shine Upon them. May they. rest in peace. Amen." The poor souls can pray. of course. In fact. they have nothing else to do but be occup.ied with holy thoughts and desires. ""They thank, they sing the mercies of the Saviour. but always, with a back-. ward-looking towards past, sins. They petition,.but for others, and for themselves only that others may be inspired' by God to pray for them." " (3ugie, Purgatorg, 660 Gratitude would seem to demand that they pray for their benefactors. They are truly poor souls because they can do.little to help themselves and because they must suffer so much, but they g'do not forget, us, and:they will render us good for good. Not c6ntentmerely to. receive, they give. They give that which, the most miserable can .al~ays give. ~They give pra~/er.'" (Ibid., 72.) And since charity must be, mutual in the communion of saints as.elsewhere and the blessed interced~ for the souls in put-, gatory, these "repay the good offices of Heaven by ceaseless prais.e." Many think that ,Jesus and Mary and the saints and angel~ visit purgatory. After all, it is the vestibule of heaven. The guardian angels it seems, are especially at home there. St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi and St. Margaret Mary saw them there. Cardina! Newman pictures one bidding adieu to a soul there. - "Farewell, but not for ever! brother dear, Be brave and patient on thy bed of sorrow; S~wiftly shall pass the night of trial here, ' And I will come and.w~ke thee on the morrow." (Dream of Gerontius., 899-902). ~ith th'e m6rrow comes the dawn of eternal day. The, chur~fi .293 C. A. HERBST Review for Religi~u~ ,shffering passes into the church triumphant. God's children, mili-tant on earth, suffering in purgatory, ¯have c6me home to heaven. The Council of Trent commands that Catholics be taught that "the saints reigning with Christ ,offer their prayers to God for men, and that it is good and useful earnestl~r to invoke them: that their'prayers and powerful aid be sought to~ obtain benefits from God through His Sbn Jesus Christ Our Lord, Who alone is our Redeemer and our Saviour." (Decretum de invocatione Sanctorum.). The many saints assigned by the Church to ~ach day of the year to intercede for fis indicates how fictiv'ely we should be in communion with them. Each of us has his patron saint. ~ We pray to'them and to Mary, the queen of all the saint~, and to our guardian angels. And they pray for us. "And the smoke of the incense of the prayers of the saints ascended , up before Go.d from the hand of the angel" (Apoc. 8:4). How many graces and favors and miracles even they have obtained for u§ we shall never know till we meet them face to face. It is probable, too, ~hat the blessed can efficaciously intercede~for the souls in purga-tory. The elect might very well owe a'debt of gratitude to a sofil in purgatory for some service rendered on earth. And a patron~saint to whom we had great devotion on earth will hardly abandoh us when " We get to purgatory. The communion of saints is a most consoling doctrine. It takes the sting from death, that most~ final and dev~astating ~of events. 'Holy Mother Church insists that on .the day of a holy. person's death we are "celebratin'g ?/is birthday" into heaven, l~ather, mother, brother, sister 'are born ifito eternal life. They hive simply gone'. home. That is what they were" born for. They have left the lowest degreeof the Church, the church militant, and have entered a higher, the church suffering, where they are confirmed in grace and'charity, where eternal life is infallibly.insured to them, and where there is also great joy. Soon the3~ will pass gloriously into the church tri-umphant. We have not lost them but gained them. They are waiting for us there. They ar~ watching over us, praying for us. They love us more now than they ever could on earth; We\are dearer to them now than ever; they can help us far more now. When we pass. into the church suffering their ~rayers will not ceas~ until we come home with them. That will be a wonderful reunion. We shall'never be ¯ separated again. "'Commu6ion of S.aints--what a glad and blessed light illumines it!' It is the hidden treasure, the secret joy of the Catholic.' When 294 November, 1952 THE COMMUNI~)N OF SAINTS he thinks on the Communion of Saints his heart is enlarged. He pass?s out of the solitariness of here and of there, of ye.sterday tomorrow, of I and thou, and he is enfolded in an unspeakably intimate communion of spirit and of life, far. surpassing his n~eds and dearest wishes, with'all those great.ones whom the grace of God hasforged from the refractory stuff bf our humanity and raised' to His height, to participation in His being. Here are no limitations of space and time. Froth out of the remote ages of the past, from civi- .lizations and countries of which the memory is now only faintly echoed in legend, the saints pass into his presence, and call him ~brother, and enfold him with their love. The Catholic is never alone." (Karl Adam, The Spirit of Catholicism, 139, 140.) FOR THE SOCIAL APOSTOLATE Catholics Speak on Race Relations, by Rev. Danid M. Cantwell, is a valuable handbook of quotations on interracial justice and charity. 64 pages, with a good index to the qd~tations, Price: 25 cents each for orders of less than fifty; gener-ous reductions for larger orders. Order from: Fides Publishers, 21 W. Superior, Chi.cago 10, Illinois. Social Thought of the American Hierarchy, b~y Wilfrid Parsons, S.d., is a con-cise, easy-to-read, 24-page summary'of the social teaching of our American Bish-ops. It outlines their constructive teaching on such things as unions, industry councils, rent, human relations, .public morality, divorce, censorship, and family life. Price: 25 cents each; graduated reductions for orders of more than five. Order from: Social O~rder, 3655 West Pine'Boulevard, St. Louis 8, Missouri. S'ocial Order, the recent!y-founded publication of the Institute of Socia~ Order, now' announces special rates for two- and three-year subscriptions.- It is pubiished monthly, except duly and August, and it is 6f invaluable assistance to all.who are engaged in, or otherwise interested in, the social apostolate. "Price: $4.00, one year; $6.00, two years: and $7.50, three years. Order from:.Social Order, 3655 West Pine Boulevard, St. Louis 8, MiSsouri. BOOKS~FOR NOTHINg? We have been asked about a new "crusade," the purpose of which is to stock tee community libraries with new books--~-" for almost nothing. The scheme is too complicated to describe in detail, but it seems to come to' this: you send out one new book, add your name to, a circulating list, and eventually you will get 256 new books. The ide.a seems to be that ever~tone who~ sends out the~ one. new~ book will get 256 in return. We'are not versed in the higher forms of mathematics, but according to our simple arithmetic, this adds up-~o magic. 295 .No!:es on.Race Relat:ions Gerald Kelly, S.J. =~'HE Most Reverend Astone-Chich.ester, S.J., Vicar Apostolic of ~' Salisbury, in Southern Rhodesia,~presents an excellent analysis 0 of the "Problem of Race Relations" and its proper solution, in The South" African Ctergg Reoiew, for ~:ebruary, August, and No: vember, 1951. For the future of Africa, and indeed for the whole world, he s~¢s, there must be a solution to the race problem which is just to everyone. ~ InAfrica, the problem is intiniatel~, associated with its tremen-dous resources which are so badly needed by the rest of the world. To develop these resources native labor must be used. This calls for. bettering the health conditions of the native populations, .and this cannot be done without education. Education in turn leads to de-mands for better economic .position, and this. will call for a better political standing. If the political standing is not given, the result will be discontent and strife. In his various articles Bishop Chichester develops the points men- .tioned above; I~hen he outlines first a false, then a true, solution ~to the race. problem. The false s91ution'is one that does not recognize the intrinsic value of the non-European as a true human .b.eing; that sub, sfitutes the utilitarian 1~rinlip.le of. "enlightened self-interest" for the rational and Christian principle of mutual sympathy and respect; and that uses religion, as a mere tool for conveniently settling human problems. The third article outlines the prindples on which the true solu-tion mus['be based. For the most part. these principlds are but a re-statement of basic human rights and duties;, but the last. principle is somewhat unusualand might be .a subject of meditation for ~11 of "It is through God's providence that diverse races and varieties human beings come into this world, each of them intended tO add its peculi~ir goodness to the w0rld. T.herefore we ought,_ as a duty to God, to look at-the good qualitie.s in others and tq.praise them, the more partic, ularly as'~they are different from our own)' Bishop Chichester then~ ~oes on to show that Euiope~ns and ¯ non-E~ropeaia~ in. Africa are interdependent: first, materiallyl because 296 " - ~' NOTES ON RACE RELATIONS the European need~,the~.African labor and the African ne~ds "the ~ European's knowledge, of technique and. his m.achiner)i: and also spirituall'y. "The Afri,can," he iays, '.'needs the integrity, .self-control, sense of responsibility which is the'i~heritance of a sound 'Eurgpean tradition. But the European needstheAfrican, and can learn cheerfulness, p'atience ,and humility from him." Toward the end of his third article, the Bishop returns to the question of "racial superiority"--the false attitude on which no satisfactory sdlution Of race problems can be based. No matter how . seemingly affable or even generous the white man is, he will never ' solve the race problem unless he tre~ats the non-white With ge'nuin~ respect, a respect built on the consciousness o~ personal dignity. This ds aptly brought out by the following words of a Nigerian African: ¯ "Some Europeans wonder why: the hitherto ignorant African w~6m thdy. have bedn kind enough t9 educate soon takes up ,a hostile. attitude towards them. It is not due to ingratitude; it is not due to failure to'~ealize wh~t difference for thd bdtter his contact With the European has made for him. In many cases it is the reiult of wounded bon0r. This may be a personal opinion; but a close exam, ination Will reveal that it lies.beneath many racial prbblems today." Another s~atethent on Race Relations, issued by all the Arch-bishops and Bishops of South Africa, is published in The Catholic Mind, September, 1952, pp~ 572-76. The entire statement is well worth, reading. .The point that impressed me as~ most interesting in. 'tills statement is. the Bishops' realistic facing .of.t,laeir problem by dis-tinguishing between essential human "rights, and what they ca!! secondary rights. The first category includes:' "the right-to life, ~'dignity, sustenance, worshil3, to the integrity~ use and normal devel-opment of ¯faculties, to ~vork and the frt~it of work, to private owner-ship Of property, to sojourn and' movemen'f, to marriage and the procreation and education of childrdn,:'t0 assoCiation with one's.fel-low- men." The Bishops insist that no one should be deprived of th~ ,exercise of these rights:" . By secondary rights the statement means such things as partici-pation in political and social life. Non-Europeans who are fitted for such participatioh are entitled to it. But the Bishops admit that large numbers of the non-Europeans are not yet sufficiently developed for-this~ kind 6f equality, arid the duty of the Europeans in this case is to help t15em in thi~ cultural development. What do our own Bishops say about tl~e race problem? One GERALD.KELLY . . . ~ Review [or Religious .who is interested in the answer to this question will do well t~con, suit Catholics Speak on Race¯ Relations, by Father Daniel M. Cant-well. In this little 'booklet of ~xce~dingly quotable quotations Father Cantwell has sixty-t';vo statements by Popes and various members of the 'hierarchy. Thirty-seven of these are made¯ by our own hierarchy. Representative of the latter are such brief pointed remarks as these: "Among the saints there is no distinction of race or color" (Car-dinal Stritch) ; ".The race of which it is our duty to be conscious is the entire human race" (Archbishop Cushing); "Is it not Catholic doctrine that when a brother is excluded,¯ re-jected, segregated, it is Christ Who is insulted and humiliated?" (Archbishop Lucey) ; "I doubt very much whether in the field of jbb discrimination we can educate unless we also legislate" (Bishop Haas on FEPC) ; and '-'Jim Crowism in the Mystical Body of Christ is a disgraceful anomaly" (Bishop Shiel). Father Cantwell's booklet is not limited to episcopal statements; it also contains apt quotations from priests, Sisters, laymen, Catholic papers, and°so forth. It is divided into four parts. The first part concerns the fundamental truths of the unity and equality among men. The second refers to human rights: life, work, living family wage, economic freedom, ~education~ housing, neighborhood peace, esteem and honor, marriage, and ~ or~hip of God. The third part concerns various viola.tions bf. these basic rights; ;ind the fourth part deals with positive ways of promoting interracial justice. It is a very valuable booklet, a. re~al "must" for all who are interested in the great cause Of interracial justice and amity. For details about¯ the price, see page 295 qn'thi~ number of' the Revietv. Foremos.t.amQng the race problems in the United States is the so-called Negro problem. On this problem, the annual statement of our hierarchy, issued November 1 i, 1943, contains the .following directive: "In the Providence of God there are among us millionsof fell~w citizens of the Negro race. We owe to these fellow citizens, who have contributed so largely to the development of our country, and for whose welfare history imposes on us a ¯special Obligation of jus-tice, to see. that~ they have in fact the rights which are given them in 298 November, 1952 N~)TES ON RACE RELATIONS our Constitution. This means not only political' equality, but also fair economic and educational opportunities,.a just share', in public welfare projec'ts, good housing without exploitation, and a full chance for the social development of theirrace." (Cf. Huber, Our Bishops Speak, p. 118.) Social Order, .for February, 1952, contains an analysis if a re-port on family incomes for the year 1949. It is interesting to read some of the items of this report in the light of the Bishops' statem+nt lust°quoted. For inst~ince, 10.4 per cent ofth~ white families had incomes under $1,000:~ whereas 30.9 per cent of the non-white fami-lies were in this bracket. 13'.7 percent of the white families' .incomes were between $1,000 aiad $1,999: whereas 28.6 per cent.of the non- . white families fell within these limits. "For incomes from $2,000 to1 $2,999, there were 20.5 per cent of the white families, and 22.1 per cent of the nbn-white. Finally, as regards incomes exceeding $3,000 (the or~lgt bracket, incidentally, which includes income thai would correspond with Catholic teaching on the family living wage), 55.4 pqr cent of the white families attained this level, as against 18.4 per cent of the non-white families. Pessimistic though these comparative statistics are from the l~oint of view of interracial j~ustice, the economic picture is not entirely Without brightness, at least asregards Negro employment. "Fortune, for July, 1952, has an article entitled "Negro Employment: A Progress Report," b.y John A. Davis, which shows' that ~luring the last decade the Negroes in our country have made coiasiderable gains in employment. But these gains, says l~Ir. Davis, "were possible only through FEPC. They cannot continue without further legis-lation." This agrees with the opinion of Bishop Haas, previously quoted in these notes. All of us, no doubt, would prefer some kind of voluntary program of fair employment practices. We would prefer "education" to "legislation"--but actual facts show that it is not a sirhple matter of "either-or"; we need both'the education and the legislation. Mr. Davis's report shows that legislation has ac-tually produced good results where a plan of Voluntary action was ineffective. A'ccording to him, the recent gains in Negro employ-ment are largely attributable to the fact tha't in eleven states and twenty-two .cities, embracing sixty million people, business is now operating under some kind of Fair Emp19Yment Practice laws. In'"The Church Segregated" (The Priest, July, 1952), 2ohn Richards sees the segregation policy as practiced within th~ Church 299 GERALD K~LLY ,~" through the eyes of a Catholic Negro f~riend. This friend refuses to contribute to a drive for'a .new "colored'.' cburch'because be says he,' does not approve of segregated churches. He resents the fact t~at som~.Cat.holic schools willingly take Protestant white pupils, but exclud~ col6red' Catholic children. He believes that state laws requiring segregated education do not apply, to Catholic schools; 'and even if they did apply the Church should be the first.to Oppose such laws. He is ~distressed when priests join the Knigh~ts of Columbus, because he says that in his locality the Knights of Columbus is.a lily, White organiza'tion: an~ if "the Negro parishioners are not good enough for the local council, then the local council is not good enough for the pastor of these parishioners." Also, he sees no'valid reason for referring to the segregated colored parishas the Negro mis~ sion; nor any~more reason for efitering "Negro""in the Baptisma! ¯ register than there is for noting "black hair." , "Theqntegration of Negroes in Catholic parishes, in the South would drive lukewarm Catholics away from the Church." This rationalization leavesdohn'Richards' friend cold---oi', to shift the figure of 0speech, it makes him hot. The Church's insistence on ~the. di;cine" law regarding birth control_ and divorce drives lukewarm Catholics away; too but the doct~:ine is not watered down nor the practice of virtue mitigated for their sakes. Why should :the .policy be different regarding the inherent injustice of the segregation policy? To all the friend'~ omplaints, I say "Amen." At its best racial segre'gatio.n isan ugly thing: practiced in any' specifically Catholic institution it is at its worst. And this brings me back to Father Cantwell s little booklet, tothe following quotation from a pastorai letter'of Bishop Vincent Waters, of Raleigh,,N~C.': : " "To believe ~hat one race or nation.is superior to another in the Churcl~, or before God, is heresy and should be condemned. ~'"Equal ,rights are.accorded, .therefdre, 'to,every race and every " nationality in afiy Catholic churc~h, and within the church building itself eyeryone is given ~he privilege to sit or kneel wherever he de-sireS, and to approach the Sacraments Without any regard to race or. ~ nationality. ; . "Pastor~ are responsible for the observance of this practice." TEN-YEAR INDEX More cbpies 9f the Ten Year Index of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (1947.- l~95.!)~oare still available at one dollar per copy. Kindly enclose payment with the oider from REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, S12 Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. ° 300 qo,ooo Francs "or Lire Adam C. Ellis, S.~I. AS SUPREME ~ administrator' and steward of. all church prop-erty (canon. 1518) the Roman Pontiff has the duty of regu-lating the' administration of all prop~erty owned by moral persons in the Church (dioceses, parishes, religious houses, and the !ike). ,Just as the state regulates the, civil corporations which it brings into existence and safeguards their financial'transactions, so the Code of ~Canon Law contains many prescriptions regarding the property of moral.persons in the Church. One of the most important of.these.is~the limitation put upon such moral persons with"regard to the alienation of property and the incurring of debts. Law of the Code Canon 1532 lays down a general law for all moral .persons in the Church, limiting their power to alienate property'to the sum of 30,000 life or francs, and canon 1538 extends this limitation to the incurring of debts: canon 534.applies both .these" general laws to religious moral persons (institutes, provinces,, hofises) .and protects it With other detailed requirements: These canons requir.e the permis' sign of the Holy See in order to alienate property or to borrow mon.ey when the sum involved excdeds 30,000 francs or 1ire. When the Code of Canon Law was published in 1917, canon~st~ almost unanimously interpreted "'30,000 francs or life" according to the gold standard which then prevailed in Europe. As far back as 1865, Belgium, France, Italy, and Switzerland had established the Latin Monetary Union in which it was agreed that all four coun-tries" were to issue coins of equal foim. weighf, and value (gold con-tent) to be equally usable in all four countries. According to thi~ gold standard, fran.cs: whether Belgian~ French, or Swiss were truly equal both among themselves and to the Italian lir~ Hence the com-mon reference througho.ut the canons of the Code to "francs o? 1ire." Most.of the couniries of Europe followed the standard of the Latin Monetary Union in ,oract~'ce. Some had coins of the same value as the franc or lira, others of equivalent value. Thus in 1917 ;the- 301 ADAM C, ELLIS i~et~iew for Religion,. ~0,000 francs or life of the cknons regarding alienation or ~he in-curring of debts were evaInated as follows: 30,000 Belgian francs French francs STcciss francs Italian fire Spanish pesetas Bulg.arian leva Greek drachmas Serbian din~rs 24;000 English shillings (1,200 pounds) 24,000 German marks 27,000 Au~strian crowns 6,000 U.S. dollars 6,000 Canadian dollars While all the coin-s listed in the first column above had an actual gold value Of $.193, forpractical purposes they were e~caluated at'5 to the dollar, and thhs the sum of $6,000 was arrived at for the united States and Canada. The EngliSh shilling and the German mark were evaluated at 4 to the dollar. The,Roman Curia never formally declared that "30,000 francs Or life" were to :be taken as gold francs or life. Nevertheless, in practice, the Sacred Congregations of Religious, for the Propagation of the Faith, and of the Eastern Church, and the Sacred Consistorial Congregation permitted their clients to interpret these sums on the basis of gold, and f0r the United States and Canada it wasc6m-monly held that one did not need to get the permission of the. H01y See for an Jalienation or for a loan unless the sum involved exceeded $6,000 in gold. : Two world wars within a period of twenty-five years disrupted the moneta_ry systems of the nations of the world. In our own country, on January 31; 1934, the 'American gold dollar was devaluated from 100 cents to .5906 cents. Hence a 100 cent gold dollar was worth $1.692 of the present 59 cent dollars. As a mat-ter of ~act, all. gold currency had to be turned over to'the U.S. gov-ernment, and. no 59 cent dollars were ever coined. However, at that time,,it was estimated that henceforth the 30,000 lire or fra.ncs of theCode corresponded to !0,000 of the 59 cent dollars, and that one needed permission from the Holy See for aliena.tions and loans only When the transaction exceeded 10,000 present day. dollars. In Europe, especially in Latin countries,¯ currency 10st its prewar ~alue and i~ was difficult to determine jus~t what the equivalent bf the 30.2 November, ~1952 :' 10,000 GOLD FRANCS OR LIRE" .30:000 francs, or'fire was in th~ paper money .of the day. ~s a result' some persons went to the. extreme of never asking the permis-sion Of the Holy See. for alienations and loans. To remedy the' situ-ation, at least for the religious of Italy, the Sacred Congregation of Religious recently required that PermiSsion had to be" obtained for alienations and loans whenever the'amount in~,olved exceeded one million fire. - - The New Decree Finally, to provide a general re.medy for the situation, the Sac~d Consistorial Congregation issued the following decree on July 113, 1951: Since~he'change~in value o-~ "both metal and paper mon'ey has created particular'di~culties in certain place~ regarding the applica-tion of the pre.scription of canons 534, .§ I and 1532, § I, 2° of the Code of Cadon Law,. the Holy See has been requested "tO. establish'a suitable norm. Wherefore, having considered" the matter carefulhj, His .Holiness, Plus XII by Divine Providencb Pope, has kindly v6uchsafed to ¯ determine by this Decree of the Sacred Consistorial C~ngregation that, as long a~ present conditions last and subject to. the will of the Holy See, recourse must be had to the same Apostolic See whenever {here is question of a sum of money which exceeds ten thousand gold francs or life. There can be no doubt about the" fact that, for. the present least, the Holy See has taken the gold st~ndard"as~a norm 'for.the amount of money rcqui~ing the consent of the Holy See for aliena'- tion of church property and for tile incurring of debts. Our present problem is to translate."10,000 gold francs or. lire" into. modern paper currency. The most obvious way would be to take $2000 gold dollars of 1914 to a bank and ask that they be converted into present day dol-lars. The banker probably would call the police, Since it is against the law for: a private citizen to have gold cdin in' hi's possess~ign. But supposing the banker were a kindly soul and forbore tutning",one over to the law,-he would be allowed by law to give only .$2~000 paper dollars in e~change for the gold. " :: ¯ Another w, ay would b~ to (ake 10,000 gold. frhncs and .get .,the value in actual Belgian ~Sr French francs, and th.en.redute it to presen,t day dollars. F.atber f~mile Berg}i, S.J. (Revue des Communaut~s Re, ligieuses, 1951, p. 166), tells us that at.the end of.World War. IEin. ¯. : 303 ADAM C, ELLIS 1945 it w'as estimated.that ~he 30,000,francs for Which one needed aft indult fromthe Holy"See r.epresen, t.ed from,900,000 tO 1,000,000 actual Belgian f~ancs. Sirice tl~e recent decree now requires recourse for l(J~000 gold tirancs, this would amount to one third the sum .give~ above,-that is, to at iea~t 300,000 Belgian francs,-and'to 2,200.~300 French francs ~es16ectively. Reducing these sums. to American dollars ~t the cfirrent rate of ~xdhange, we get a minimum of $6,000 at 50 Belgian ~rancs" to the dollar, and $6,285 ';it 350 -French francs to the dollar. ':Father' Joseph Creusen, S.J. (Revue des ,Communaut~s Reti-gieuse~, 1952, p.-66), c~lls attention to the fact that the term "gold franc" may mean either the purchasing po.wer of the gold kilo; or its worth on the official exchange, or on the free market. He prefers to assess the value of the gold franc on th.e basis of its buying power immediately before World War I in 1914, but does.not tell uswha~ this would be in terms of present day dollars. ~ Finally, Father George Jarlot, S.2.,,a professor~at the Institute of Social S~iences of the Gregorian University, Rome, informs us that th~ pu~rchasing power of 10.000 gold francs in 1914 was equal to about $7,000 in American money.today (Periodica, 1952. p. 156), ¯ This is also th~ sum arrived at as the equivalent of the "10,000 gold francs,or life" bit other Roman canonists, according to private infor-mation received by the writer. , ~. Conc'lusion: Father A. Guttierez, C.]k,I.F. (Commentaridm pro Rbligiosis, 1951, 258), w~hile not" hazarding,ar~ opinion Of his own as to the value of "10,000 gold francs or lire" thinks it would be desirabl'e to have the Holy See determine-the equivalent for each ¯ country. Until this is done, we.may safely follow Jarlot's opinion a~nd~ consider 7,000 present day dollars as the equivalent of the 10,000 goldfrancs or life set as the norm by the iecent decree of- the S~c'red Consistorial Congregation. Whenever. therefore,-there is que'stion of'the hlien~tion of property or of the incurring 6f a debt, thd'value of which exceeds $7',000, the permission of the Holy See must.b~ obtained in order that the transaction may be valid. We take this occasion" to remind our readers that the permission nec~essary may now be obtained from Hi.~ Excellency, the Apostolic Delegate in~ ,Washihgton, D.C., ~vhen the sum involved does not exceed a half. .million gold dollarS;~ pr6vided the other conditions prescribed by .the la~v a~re fulfilled. (See Bou~caren, Canon Law Di'gest, Supplement 1948;,I3.~.131, under i:anon 858). ~ 304 Address ot: PoPe Pius XII .Religious Superiors [Tl~is address was given tO the supekiors genera! of institutes of geligious4women. on Se~teraber 15, 1952, at the conclusion of their first international congress.] . ELOVED daughters, We extend Our fatherly greeting tb you, who have come in such large numbers 'to the~ International Congress of Superiors General of O~ders and congregatisris of,' Women, and who, at the endof your labors, on th~ ¯point of putting into.effect the results.of your deliberations, have come't0, ask of.Us , the blessing of the Vicar of Christ. When the Sacred Congregation of Religious proposed calling this ,Congress to Us, Wefelt obliged to think'it over. An enterprise o'f in'ternation~il scope such as this always demands a considera.ble. penditure of time, money, and effort. Nevertheless, We had to acknowledge its necessity or, at least, its Usefulness~ Indeed, We felt OUrselves obliged td ~,ield before the solidity of the reasons pre-. sented; and the imposing assemblage~ which We have before Our eyes, your countenances, your entire appearance tell-Us that great good ~¢iI1 has been at work these days. ~ Yes, beloved' daughters, the echoes of the Congress which follow i~s conclusion hav~ proclaimed how-seriously you regard the service of God and flow desirous yos are of .spendin.g yourselves for your religious families and for the Church. With this. in view, you hop~e to receive fiom .Us a word of consolation, 6f eficouragement, and of direction. " Just one" year ago, We t~:eated in detail a series of questions. to~iching on ~he prog.ress of teaching orders and congregations and their adaptation to present conditions. Some, if not mos~, of thi~ in-structions We gave on that occasion hold equally true for all -other religio~s congregations. The experiences of the year .which has elapsdd urge Us to draw your attention to the directives which¯ We formulated at that time. We ask you to conform to them cousage-ously when your sisters and yot~r own experience tell you that. the time has come tO take intelligent account of aspects of contemporary life. We have,, moreover', a very special .reason for .speakin~ to you. You know that orders of wom~n are now facing a very grave crisis. We refer to the decline in .the number of vocations. Most assuredly,. POPE PlUS XII ' Reoiew for Reli~lions this crisis has not touched all countries. Even .where it has raged, its iritensity is not e.verywhere l~he same. 'tSut right now in one group of Euroi~ean countrie~ it i~ alarm, ing. In one region, where twenty years ago the religious life of women was in full flower the number 'of vocations has dropl~ed to half. And yet in times past serious diffi-culties impeded the vocations of girls, whereas iia Our day external ~onditions seem to 'impel them thither and there' would seem to be a iaeed for guarding against imag!ne.d x, ocations. We do not intend a detailed discussion of this crisis which is causing Us such deep anxiety. Another occasion will furnish. Us . with the opportunity~ Tod~y We wish only to address those, b~ they priests'or laymen, preachers, speakers, or Writers, who hax, encit a word c~f aigproval or of praise for viriginity pledged to Christ; who, for year~, in spite of admonitions by the Church; ~nd contrary;' to her mind', have accorded marriage an essential superiority 6ver the virginal state; w15o even go so far as to present marriage as the only rfieans capable of assuring.the development and natural perfection of human personality. Th~se who speak and write thus mu'st take. cognizance of their responsibility to God and to the Church. must reckon them amongst those chiefly responsible for a state of affairs of which We cannot speak without sadness. When, through-outth~ Christian world'.ahd everywhere else. there, re-ech0 at)veals ' for Catholic sisters, it is quite ordinary to be com't~elled reluctantly to give one negative answer after another. Yes, even long;sthnding . establishments--hospitals and educational institutions must be closed from time. to time--all because vocations do not eqtial the " needs. As for yourselves. "h~r'e are Our recommendations. With voca-tions in their present critical state, see to it that the religious habits, the manner of life, or the asceticism of your religious families do not form a barriei or a'cause of failure in vocations. We speak of c'ertain usage~ which, while they once had meaniog in another cultural milieu, are meaninbless'today, and in which' a truly good and cou-rageous girl would find only obstacles'to, her vocation',, In "Oul statement of last year We gave various examples 6f this. To repeat briefly on the question of clothing: the religious habit must always express consecration to Christ; that is what everyone expects and desires. Bu( the habit should alsb conform to modern demands and correspond to the :ne~ds of hygiene. We could not fail to express.Our satisfacti6ff--when, in the.course of. the year, We lsaw that sortie con-" 306 November, 1952 " ADDRESS TO RELIGIOUS SUPERIORS gregations had already put some of these ideas into practice. In a word, in these things that are not essential, adapt .yourselves as far as reason and well-ordered chhrit% advise. This said, We propose to you, beloved daughters, two matters with Our most earnest commendation: ~ 1) A motherl~t spirit as regards the direction of your sisters. It is undoubtedly true, as psychology claims, that a woman vested with authority does not succeed so easily as a man in measuring and bal- ~ancing strictness with kindness. All the more¯ reason fcir ~cultivating your maternal feelings. Convince yourselves that the vows have re-quired a great sacrifice from your sisters, as from yourselves. They have renounced family, the happiness of marriage, and the intimacy ¯ of the home--a sacrifice of. much value, of decided importance for the apostolate of the Church, but a sacrifice all the same. Those of your sisters whose spirit is nobldst and most refined feel this separation most keenly. The words of Christ, "He who puts his hand to the plow and then .looks back is not fit for the Kingdom of God," find complete and, even today, unreserved application here. "But the brder must replace the family as far as possible; and you, 'the superiors gen-eral, are called up.on first and foremost to breathe into the community life of your sisters tile spirit of family affection. Also, you yourselves must be maternal in yo, ur external attitude, in_ your written and spoken words, even if, at times', you ha'~e to exercise self-control; above all, be thus in your inner thoughts, in your ,judgments, and, as far as possible, in your feelings. Every day ask Mary, the Mother off Jesus and our Mother, to teach you to be motherly. 2) The formation o~ ~tour sisters for the v~ork and .the task which is incumbent upon them. Here let there .be no parsimony; take a broad and generous view. Be it a question of education, pedagogy, the care of the sick, artistic or other activities, the sister ought to 'entertain this conviction: "My superior is making pos'sible for me a fotmatibn which wlill put me on an equal footing withmy colleagues in the world." Make it possible also for them, and g!ve them the.means, to keep their profession, al .knowledge and training up to date. On this point We have also elaborated dr/ring the past ¯ year. We repeat it in order to underline the importance of this re-quirement. for the interior pea~e and foi the work of your sisters. "'" You come, beloved daughters, from all parts of th~ world, Prom near and far. Tell your sisters that We thank them for their prayer, 307 "POPE PIUS XII of ~vbich We have snch great need; 'for their good exampl'e~ Which helps" powerfull~ to confirm so many.Cath01ics in their faith and to lead to the Church ~o many who do not belong to it; for their work in the service of 3iouth, the sick and the poor, in tl~e missions, in so many other w, ays~ all of which are so valuable for the growth and strengthening of the reign of ~lest~s Christ over souls. Tell ~our sis-ters. that'We give~ them all Our affectibn; that their concerns are Our'. concerns~ .their joys Our joys; tha.t, above;all, We wish for them the two-fold strength of courage and of, patience in the work of their own perfection and in the apostolote which their' Divine Master and Spouse has assigned them. As a token of Our patqrnal, benevolence ~nd a pledg~ of- the tri-umphant grace and love of ~the Divine Heart; We grant you, beloved daughters, for you.rselves, your ~isters, and your worksl Our Apostolic Benedktion. ADDRESS TO TEACHING SISTERS NOTE: The exhortation to the first international Congress of Teaching Sisters (September 15. 1951) to which the Holy Father refers in the foregoing address is i~ublished: in The Catholic Mind, ,June. 1952, pp. 376-80. The .following are a.mong the p.ei~tinent passages: ~ . "'The religious habit: choose it in such a way that it becomes the expression of inward naturalness, of simplicity and spiritual mfdes'ty. , Thus.it will e~dify every-one, even modern young, people . : "Followed in letter and spirit, your const~tut,0ns, too, facilitate and bring the Sister all she needs and must do in our time to be a good teacher and educator. This also ~applies to purely mechanical matters. In many "countries today, for example, even Sisters "use bic~ycles.when their work~demands it. At first¯ this was something' 'entirely new, though not against the Rule. It ispossible that some details of the school schedules, certain¯ reguiations---simple applicatifns of the" Rule--:-certain cus-toms. which were, perhaps, in harmony with past .conditions but which today° merely hinder educational work, must be adapted, to new circumstanc:s. Let supe-riors and~the general chapter prb~eed in this matter conscientiously, .with.foresight, prudence and cour.age and, where the case demands, let them not fail to submit the proposed changes to. competent ecclesiastical authorities." COMMUNICATIONS ON INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS Superiors and ,others who were privileged to attend the International Congress of Superiors General of Orders and Congregations of Women in Rome would 'do a great service~to our readers by sending their 0bservatio~s .on the congress. 308. ues ons and Answers M~'y a religious have the interest on his i~herifance? Suppose amounts to $300 a year: may he use this amount for Masses, hls'relatlves, or fo'r charlfy?. A religious~with: sole,mn yows loses all right to own, so there ~an be question here.only of a religious With. a simple, vow 6f poverty. He.ma.y .not.have the interest on his,inheritance, because canon 569, § 1 explicitly obliges every novice before taking first vows, to give away the usufruct or annual income deriving from his perso.nal pr6perty, unless the constitutions provide otherwise. The novice is free to give his annual incorn~ (interest on money, stocks, .bond~, rents from real estate; and the like) tO any. person., physical or moral, v~hom.he Nay choose; but h~ is forbidden to use it for himself, or to distribute it himself annually. The whole tenbr of the history of this canon is to the effect that the beneficiary.of the income :is .to .b~ determined upon once for all. Should the beneficiary die, another person may be appointed in his place; but in order to change the beneficiary determined upon at the'time of first profession, the per-mission of the superio.r is required unless the constit~utions provide otherwise (canon 580,.§ 3). We ~ave been invited to s~nd in our requests and compla~infs which will be proposed to the general chapter to be held within the n~xt 'three months. Are we obliged to slcjn our.names to these suggestions, or wili it be sufflclentto give them to on~e of the .delegates to the general chap-ter. and s.ay that these a~'e the requests of a.number~ of rellgious? Unless the constitutions or ~ustom require .that such requests or complaints must be signed, they need not be signed. Usually .they. a.re given to one of the delegates to the gen.er~al chapter who, in turn, at the proper time, turns them in to the special committee appointed for the purpose of screenin, g such requests and' complaints. Those that are considered worthy of the attention of the general chapter are pro-- posed to it in. due time during the chapter of affairs.,. At the end of thechapter, before a vote to adjourn is taken, any delegate may ask that a request or complain.t whichhas been turned, in but has. not - been submitted to the general chapter should now be read, and the 309 QUESt'IONS AND ANSWERS ,7 chapter will then vote first.on Whether the request or complaint is to be considered or not. If it is rejected, that is the end of the matter. If the majority vote is .for }onsidering it, it will then be considered in the same Way as the other requests or complaints, which were already, submitted to the general'ch.apter, ~30~- ~ By ou~" constifutlons We are directed to make one hour of~menfal prayer each day. In some of our houses it frequently happens .that .the Community Mass follows the first half hour.~of prayerJ The second half hodrwill then be made after thanksgiving, during which a second =Mass is sometimes said. Is attendance at this second Mass considered as fulfill;ncj the obligation of the Constitutions? In ma.ny religious communities it is customary for the communit~r to assist at the Mass of a ~isiting priest, usually .on a voluntary basis. There "does not seem to be any objection" to performing one's, spirit-ual duties, such as meditation, rosary, and the like during this second Mass. " Review for Religio~s " We are to have our general, chapter in January. " Is it proper for older delegates to ins~'ru~÷ ÷he youncjer Sis~'ers how ~'o 'vo~'e, "l-ha~" names of capable Sisters to them? " It is highly, improper for the Older delegates to instruct the younger Sisters how to vote in chapter. This is expressly forbidden by canon 507, § 2 which .states: "All must abstain f~om seeking votes either directly.or indirectly for themselves or for.others.':; What is allo'wed by certain c6nstitutions, and should be used with moderation, is to question other members, of the cl'iapter regarding the abilities of certain Sisters who have passive 'voice, that is,° are eligible for office. This should be done in a specific manner, for in-stance; by asking: "Is Sister N.N. firm in her manner of operating, does she ~aye good judgment, is she patient, kind, and the like" rather than ask: :'Do yo9 think Sister N.N. would make a good superior. One might ~sk a Sister who is very well acquainted with the indi~ vidual .in question: "Do you know of any serious.imp.erfection on th~ part of Sister N. N.' which would prevent her from being a good superior?" However, the Sisters of. tl'ie chapter thus in.terrogated are to answer tt~e questions proposed to them, and not offer any general advice not asked for. 3i0 November, 19~ 2 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Is the gblden jubilee in religion counted from date of entrance Or of first profession? There are no regulations in canon law re.garding this matter. Each institute follows its own custom. We l~hink, that, all things. coiisidered, tl~e jubilee shot]ld be counted from-the dal~e" o'f entrance intothe novitiate, since that is the first official step ~f dedication in religion to Christ's service. From" a practical viewpoint; fift~i years is a lon~ period of time, and should begin to run as soon" as possible afte'r" entranc~dnto religion, that is,' from the day of entrance into the novitiate. Cor~stitutions/requiring l~hat the gol.den jubilee be counted from the first temporary"prof.ession, or even frbm per.petu~l profession, may be changed by the proper authority, provided that'a majority 6f the members assembled in g~neral chapter request such a change~ Customs regard!rig the golden jubilee may be changed by'a majority ; ote of the chapte.r Without referring the matter to any higher authority. --33m What is the mind of the Church regarding Sisters "of |he second class," that is, lay Sisters?. Does this not savor of class distinction? Certainly the cl~ss of lay Sisters and Brothers savors of class dis-tinction. However, before condemning the Church for introducing such a distinction; it will be well to recall"that th~ Church take~ so-cial conditions as she finds them and seeks to better thefia gradually, Up t6 the begifining of the twentieth century, ~he only opportunity of bettering their condition was offered to the youth of the poorer classes oi~ Europe by the Chufchin the ranks of her clergy .an'd reli-giou. s. In modern times when the world has become more alert to social justice, and the opportunity to re~eiv~ 'an educati'on has become m6re common, the Church will readily grar~t permissi6n to abolish the class of lay Brothers and Sisters. This is especially true in the case of non'-dlerical i:ongrega.ti6ns of Sisters or Brothers only. The permi~- sioia, may be had for the. as~ing~ l~ovided that a ma'jori~r of the riaem-bers'of the gen.eral chapter reqfies~th~ Hbly See f6t it. In the case of a diocesan dongr~gatiohl ~he 16"c~il 6rdinary can gr~an~ the, p~rmissii3fi: 3il -ommunica ions Reverend Fathers: -It was nice to find an ar~ticle about the National Congress for Re-ligious in the REVIEW, as I had been looking for something in print about it." I had looked in.vain in several periodicals and papers, but with the "exception of The Santa Fe Register, I found notl4ing. I was privileged to be one of the few contemplative ieligious )resent. Another abbess from our monastery in Cleveland was there and a few other cloistered religious. The Congress for Religious was a most impressive and unique gathering, uniting as it did in one purpose, one endeavor, the. supe-riors of many religious orders of men and women. It would be impossible, .without a "record, to even hazard a guess at the number of Orders and Cong'regations that were represented. ¯ All the papers which were read and the discussions, etc. at the session for religious women, wdre compreheniive and manifested deep study and Understanding of the subjects treated. There was not enough time in the three days of the Congress to discuss thoroughly the subjects" chose~a or to cover more subjects. There were also the special sessions.~vhich proved very satisfactory, but some ~loubled up on others, so that only too often it was impossible not to miss one for another, both being conducted at the same time in differdnt buildings. That the subject of "prayer in the li~e of a religious" was com-pletely omitted seemed regrettable to.me. The priest ( I do not re-member .who h~ was) who brought up the subject of the contempla-tive life, and its having so great "an attraction for the youth of our day, left the subject woefully unfinished. That there is a great influx of vocations among the Trappists is evident, and leads one to hope that the future .will prove them to have really been true vocations. However, I do 'n0k believe the youth of our day in general shows a greater attraction for thecontemplative life than those of the past. There is a moderately larger number of v6cations in our day than in the past: but not in proportion to our increasing~populi~ti0n. In fact, taking' into consideration the fact that our Catholic population, our schools, colleges, etc. have vastly increased in the past 40 y'ears, the number of vocations to the contemplative Orders have not increased in prOportion. .: The statement which was made about the typical temptation Of 312 COMMUNICATIONS the active, and contemplative.religious is, I dare Say, not true. ¯ While active religious very often do 'long fo5 more timd for prayer, and the more fervent they are, the m6re they desire ~his.,-it is not.true ~hat the . temptation of the contemplative is to do more. No one but a cbn-templgtive. sh0uld make a statement touching so deeply the contem-plative soul, The contemplativ.e does r~ot feel that she dods not do ,enough, but that she does not pray enough, and .this~ after living many years the cloistered contemplative life. I ihould have liked to speak on the subject, but the paper had already gone over its allotted time, a'nd the subject could not be handled in a few sho~t sentences. " A life.of prayer does not comprise only the hours.allotted .to that _exercise, be it vocal in the recitation of the. Divir~e Office or mental, but it covers every hour of the day. Monastic work is prescribed by the Church for all c0nte~platives, notas a rest or cessation from prayer,, but as a means for uninterrupte.d, continuation of interior prayer. The contemplative knows that until her life is perfected by degrees in this uninterrupted interior p.rayer, not indeed a torturing of_the mind, but a silent, peaceful, interior communing.with Gbd in love, sbehas not yet attaiiaed to anyt~h~ng like, ~/high degree of that which she has set herself to fetich. Any woik, be it manuaLlabor or' simple domestic duties, be it of the literary or artist.ic, type, which fills in the tifiae befGeen the'hours of prayer.proper, must always be for the contemplative but a continuation of that interior union with God ¯ which was begun in her prayer before the Blessed Sacrament. Prhyer is not one department and .work another. The work of the contem-plative is as valuable as her prayer, and her prayers as. valuable, as her work. Her temptation is not to do more, but to fed dissatisfied that. that her life is not a mord uninterrupted union and converse with her' Di~vine Spouse, the striving for the perfection of this.~being her one aim. There is an unseen world which to her is very real. The inci-dents of daily-life are mereaccidentals which are. of valud or~ly so far' as they can purchase for her more p~rfect union with God. This unseen world is as real to her as the things she can ~each out and touch, and touching it she can make every action of hers Prayer. I am speaking o£ pra~er,~ -not pra~/ers. The Di~cine Office, thoughoit is a vocal prayer, can yet give to the. contemplative, one of the most valuable occasions of the day for interior prayer, when her soul can remain in closest union with God, reaching 0ut'to Him in: loving, peaceful attention, whether she understands and grasps the meahing 313 COMMUNICATIONS. Reoieto for Religious of the wor'ds or not. o,. - .-. , . . ¯ ~ .The contemplati_ve:life should not be giamorized. This gives ¯ young people a mere admiration of it or a passing fervor at learning of its grandeur, which is not a vocation, Only too o, ften postulants applying have a mistaken idea of the contemplative life. picturing it as a quiet restful going to prayer and enjoying its peaceful hours.with little else to do. This is not what the contemplative life demands. It is a life of prayer indeed, but.united with the self-effacement and self-abnegation necessary to bring the soul to a detachment from ~elf and self-love, which alone can lead to higher union of the'soul With God. This is not a pleasant process if it is to lead to solid growth in holi- ¯ ness. It is not what enriches us but what effaces us that leads to union with God. But,'neither should we suppose that the, way is all darkness and strewn with thorns. The soul also comes to stretches of light and joy when she stands very.close to the Divinity to which she is wedded. Our Lord is ever a loving Spou.se who will not be outdone in generosity. Much more can be s~iid on the.subject, but I wrote this much be-cause I felt an explanatign was due since ,you .repeated the statement in the REVIEW which was made on the floor at the,Congress, and I feel it has given an incorrect impression. There isAlready a great deal written about the contemplative life Which should be reviewed or corrected. The trouble is few contemplatives write,and what is writ-ten is too often merely theoretical by those who have not lived the enclosed contemplative life. SISTER M. IMMACULATA, P.C. (Abbess) SETS OF BACK NUMBERS AVAILABLE To :meet the numerous requests for back numbers the following ligt has .been prepared. It contains the number of complete sets available.for the different years, together with the prices. The price of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS was rai~ed to $3.00. in 1951. ' " Sets at $2.00 Sets at $3.00 1945 " 8sets 1951 . 17.0sets 1948 ., . 87sets 1952 . ~. 130~ets 1949 . . 115 sets ' 1'950. . . . 75 sets ~ ~" Please order from the. business. ot~ce: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 606 Harrison, Top~.ka, Karisas. 314 A =h onument: t:o Vincen!: Jerdme Breunig, TH]~ recent Uook, Saints for Now, edited by Clare Boothe Luce, has two articles on St. John of the Cross and none on St. Vin-cent de Paul. Yet Vincent de Paul is pre-emin, e.ntly a modern saint, a "saint for now." In Social Action (July, 1952, p. 135) J. Correia-Afonso writes.: "Vincent.de Paul is indeed a modern saint, not chronologically., but as one of the first of his contemporaries to understand the new times ushered in by the R~naissance, and to consider them with a just and sympathetic discrimination; one of the earliest too to observe and to seek a practical solution for the social questign, which in" its different aspects has beiome the problem of our own days." (Social.Action is a'periodical published monthly by the Indian Institute of Social Order, St. Vincent St.,Poona 1, India.). The "omnipresence" of the Daughters of Charity; (more. than 40,000 strong) in the cities of the world, the numerous Vihcentian seminaries, the De Paul hospitals and schools, as well as the other congregations, associations, and works of charity that derive directly from or were inspired I~y St. Vincent may have rendered the saint too' obvious to be singled out. Recent tributes to the ~ipostle of charity are not wanting. The realistic'spiritual grandeur of the film, "Mon-sieur Vindent," is a notable instance. But the monument, "more lasting than bronze"is the fifteen-volume ~ork of Pierre Coste, C.M. This includes eight volumes o~ Correspondence, four of Con&fences; and a three-volume Life and Works of St. Vincent de Paul. The work is translated by'Joseph Leonard, C.M. The last seven volumes mentioned above were published, by the Newman Press during the present year. (See page 325 for prices, etc.) THE LIFE AND.WORKS OF ST. VINCENT DE PAUL Reviewing Pierre Coste's biography in the Month when the book first appeared in the early thir.ties, Archbishop Goodier "wrote: "He has already given.to us, ig eight volumes, the saint's correspondence; he has now published in three volumes more, ~ study of the saint and his l,i e which is not likely ever to be superseded,. It is a masterpiece of research, 6f eruditionSand in ~he full-length portrait of SL Vin-cent de Paul which it~ depicts; si~aringhim in nothing, "~s the saint himself would not want to be spared,_, it allows u's to watch this Very -315 ~" JEROME BREUNIG Re~'ie~ for Religious ¯ human being, if ever there.was one, grow¯ into one of the most glori-ous heroes this world has ever produced, the pride alike of man and of .the Church, one of those in whose canonization the veriest pagan must rejoice." , The biography can be divided into three sections that are not co-terminus with the three volumes. First is traced the early-life 6f the s~int.ahd the first beginnings of the associations he founded. Then, in turn; follc;ws a detailed study of the growth and expansion of each. The third section treats.of his work at the French court, his. efforts against Jansenism, and his care of'the Visitation" Order after the ~dea'th of St. Francis de Sales: gives summary studies of his sanc-tity, his daily order, and the like: and concludes with. an account of his d~ath, beatification, and canonization. The r~al drama and challenge of Vincent de Paul's long life (1581-1660) is h~ightened rather thin dimmed by the careful ex-cision of legends such as the story of his exchanging places with the galley slave. The meager record of the early years is sufficient to m- .dica~e the initial struggle of a gifted poor boy who had to "work his~ way thiough college" by teaching boys. Not in accord with the pre- ¯ scriptions of Trent, Vincent was ordaified at twenty years of age. Providence .afforded realistic post-ordinatio~ training. The youfig priest.was ~capttired by Moors and sold int6 slavery in'Tunis. It was almost tq¢o years before he escaped to France. ~ The. turning point from mediocre to high sanctity seems to have been Vincent's promis~ to consecrate the rest of hi~ life to theservice of the'poor. Shortly afterwards when the Master of'the Paris M~nt gave him a personal gift of 15,000 livres, the dedicated priest gave the entire sum to the Charity Hb~lSitai on the very next day. Whether.pastor of Clichy or Chatillons, chaplain t6"the De Gondi Family or to the Queen, Vincent de Paul fulfilled his promise to help the po.0r.Whenever he recognized a serious need., whether spiritual or material, he tried a realistic approach, often not particularly orig-inal, experimented, made recommendations, and finally outlined pro-cedure~ .that would meet the difficulty. The Congregation of t~e Mission "The establishment of the Congregation of the. Mission is the result of the sermon at Folleville:' it sprang from it as the tree does from the seed" (I, 70). This mission sermon givdn on the feast of the Conversion of St. P~ul ,and exhorting the. yillager.s to make a 316 November, 1952 MONUMENT TO M. VINCENT general confession, was so abundantl¢ blessed that it.clearly under-lined the need to provide for thousarids bf similar missions and a congregation¯ of priests specially dedicated'to g!ving them. Incompetence and worse among the clergy of France~was another problem Vincent helped solve. First he prov!ded retreats for priests and ordin~nds. Hd saw, however,¯that a more radical remedy Was needed. Adequate seminary training had to be provided. -The Con-gregation of the Mission undertook and is continuing these special-ized sacred works for th~ sa'nctification of the clergy. Relief for the poor began in the same simple.manner. "On a cei-taifi Sunday, 'just as I was vesting,to say Mass, a person came to tell me that, in an isolated house a quarter of.a league away. the whole family lay ill, so'that not a single ond of them could come to the as-sistance of the others, and they were in Such dire straits as cannot be ,,expressed. ,It moved me to the depths of my heart. I did not fail to speak feelingly about them during the sermon, and God, touching the, hearts of those who were listening, caused them all to be moved to compassion for the poor afflicted people. "After dinner, a meeting was held in/the house of a good lady in the town to see what help could 15e given and every single one of. those present was quite~prepared to go and see them. to console them ,by talking to them and'to help them to the best of their ability." (I, 82.) The care of this familj, led to the care of'.others. After three months experience St. Vindent formed" an association to be called the Confraternity, of Charity. Its members were to be known fis the Servant~ of the Poor or of Charity. "It was to have desus Christ as its patron and its rriotto was to be: Blessed are the merciful as my Father is merciful} or, Come, ye bles'sed of my Fat'tier and possess the Kingdom prepared fo? you from the beginning of th~ world, for I was hungry and ge gave me to eat, I was sick and you visitbd me; for what you have done to theleast of thesq, {you have done unto me.'" (I, 83.) The Daughters of Charity Again,,this' confraternity became the model for similar ones,¯, From them developed the group known as the .Ladies ofCharity" who gave generously of time and money to h~lp the .poor. As the work of these groups expanded, it .became¯ clear that a permanent group of Full time dedicated nurses and teachers was indispensable. With the help of, Louise de Marillac, a "Lady of Charity." Vincent ' 317 ,JEROME BREUNIG Reoiet~ for Religious de° Paul established the Daughters of Ch, arity. This new congregation marked a great innovation in the reli-gidus iife. "The Daughters of Charity wdre not, like the members of ¯ :other communities of women, confined to "their homes; they were perfectly free t6 walk about the streets, and this was even a duty in-~ asmuch as their functions called them to leave their houses and enter. those of the poor. 'Your monasteries,' St. Vincent said to them, 'are the houses of ~he sickf ybur cell, a hired room; your chapel, the " parish church; your cloister., the streets of the city; your enclosure, obedience; your grille, the fear of God; your veil, holy modesty!' " .(I, 345.) The. Vincentians (C.M.) and the. Datighters of Charity are the largest but not the.only religious families Vincent founded. He suC-ceeded St. Francis de Sales as d~rector of the Visitation Order an~ helped found the institutes of th~ Daughters of Providence, the Daughters of the Cross, and the Daughters of the Holy Family. These congregations helped car.ry on the ~far-flung spiritual and cor-poral works of.mercy that were first initiated by M. Vincent. The Fou'ndlings Artists like to depic~ St. Vincent trtidging through slum areas leading one child by the hand and carrying another. They are not, drawing ~maginary scenes. In a diary kept by one of the Sisters at La Couche we read:. "3anuary 22, M. Vincent a~rived about eleven o'clock at night;, he brought us two childrea; o_ne may be six days old, the other is older. The poor little things were crying. The Lady Superioress has handed them over to the nurses. ~ . . ~' "'February 7. It i~ very, cold. M. Vincent paid a visit to our community; this holy man is always on foot. The Superioress asked ¯ him to rest, but he hurried off at once (o his little childiefi. It is marvellous to listen to his beautiful words of kindness and consola- ¯ tion. These little creatures listen to him as to.a father. Oh! what does not this kind, good Monsieur Vincent deserve! ';I have seen his tears flow ~oday. One of our little ones died. 'It is an angel now,' he explaiiaed, 'but it is very ha~d not to see it any more.' " (II, 263- 4.) An appeal of Vincent to the Ladies of Charity is recorded: "And no~; Ladies, s.ympathy and charity induced you to ad.opt these poor little creatures as ~?our children; yo.u have been their mothers ac-cording to Divine Grace ever .since their mothers aceording to nature 318 Novemb~r~ 1952 MONUM.ENT TO I~I.VINCEN'~ abarid~ned them. Cease to be their mothe.rs and become their judges; theirlife and death, i~ in your h~nds; I am i~ow abo~t to collect yoflf votes: the time has come to pronounce-their sentence and to ascertain whe.ther~ you desire any longer to be merciful tO them. They will live, if you charitably take care of them, and on the other l~and, they will die and infallibly perishif you abandon therfii experience does.- not allow you to think otherwise." (II, 222.) Chaplain for the Galle~ts "Nothing could give a bettei picture of hell than the hulks.[of the galley slaves] at Marseilles," wrote a biographer (I, 117). Into these tombs for the living, .Vincent went as an angel and consoler. His own experience as. a prisoner and a slave helped him to use his positior~ as chaplain-general of the galleys, to which General De Gondl bad appointed him, to alleviate the conditions of'the convicts. At Vincent's bidding, the Bishop of Paris sent a pastoral letter asking alms to prepare better quarters for the prisoners. The sp!ritual .minis.try among tl~e prisoners was not neglected: sacraments were ad-ministered and missions were sometimes arranged for them. The apostle of charity ektended his care to .other. needy classes besides foundlings and .prisoners. The sick poor in the over-crowded hospitals, orphans, the insane, fallen woinen, he.lpless beg-gars, and others were to. share the warmth of his contagious charity. A separate. ~tory is the relief woik of Vincent, that almost beggared the Parisian benefactors, to assist the provinces of Lorraine, Picardy, Champagne, and L'Ile,-de-France when they were torn by maraud-ing armies in the wars of the Fronde. Saving assistance was also provided for the Irish refugees who fled to France" during Oliver Cromwell's ~eign of terror. Spiritual Works Among the reforms in the spiritual apostolate that Vincent helpedpromote was punctu, ring the pompous, empty eloquence that ¯ had. become quite widespread.' Sentences like the following were commonplace: "I am about to grasp the intoxicating chalice, replete ¯ with SO much excellence, to replenish .your hearts through the orifices of Yourears." "May the gentle zephyrs of the Holy Spirit. waft the, .'sails o'f my thoughts.over the sea of this great audience to lead and bring it safely to a fair haven." (II, 206). Vincent promoted sim-plicit~ y, in form and tone. "Motives, nature, and means, all set out simply and cl.early--sucb is Saint Vincent's 'little method!' " (I!, 319 JEROME BREUNIG " ReuietuforReligious 217).He had no use for bitter sarcasm. "Bitterness "has never served.any 6ther purpos'e'than to embitter" (II, 218). Of greater impoFtance was his clear.standagainst heresy. ".The Jansei~iSts have never forgiven Saint Vincent for the pr6minent pait which he played in ~ecuring-the condemnation of their' doctrines" (III, .180). Vincent's sound faith, arid Cath01ic sefise kept him clear of this heres@ that won so many of his coun,trymen. Mqre-. over, his influential position at the French court enabled himo.to help expose the false doctrine in his bwn .country. A loy.al son. df the Church, he was also instrumental in ¯h~lping bring the matter to Rome where the heresy Was oflicially condemned. THE CONFERENCES OF ST. VIN'CEN~ DE PAUL The multifarious good works of Vincent de Paul ¯might give the impression that he was merely a man of action. The Conferences, in four v01um~s, modify this impres.sion by revealing the inner.spir-ituality which was the mainspring of the exterior activity. Not having a" Wire-rec, ording machin'e or even the Gregg short-hand method, the first Daughters of Charity pieced together what they heard, sometimes with the help. of Monsieur' Vincent's memor-andum. Of all the conferences Vincent gave duriiag aperiod of about 25 years (1634:1660), only 120 have been preserved. The handwriting ot~St. Louise de Marillac is recognized in twenty of" th~ transcriptions. Fragmentary and occasional as they are, the con-., ferenCes reveal an. inspiring and unmistakably high spirituality. It must be remembdred that When these conferences were given the Sis-ters were simply an association of layw0men who did not live in" a convent but usually in hired rooms in the particular parish wheie they worked. " " The "'Method" in the Conferences.° An interesting and, perhaps in some meagure, imitable feature of Vincent de Paul's conferences was the method. The Sisters were not ~nly .informed.when the conference was to be held, but they were told .what the subject matter was to'be.° Besides, the~ were to be prepared to give their own thoughts and to iinswer questions on th~ subject. The first time the method was introdiaced iff recorded:. '"In the t~ompany. "Sir, disunion seems to me to be like a building that is falling ddwn~ . . . JERk)ME BREUNIG Revie~,'for Religious (~ Another Sister said : "'Union is an image of tb~ most ~Ble~sed' .~rihity which is made up 6f three dlvme Persons, United.:b.y love. I~ we are thoroughly well united; we shall all be ,of one will and in complete harmony. Disunion, on the contrary, gives us a picture of hell, where the dem~ns live in perpetual discord and hate." ,(I, 87- Thus'each of. the group added to the conferende. These "conver-sati0ns" ai ~iven in the' Con(erences may stem toopat and perhaps too:good to some modern readers. This mhybe due to the editing. The idea seems to be a sound ont. After hearing the members and answering any questions, Monsieur Vincent would give a fuller treat-ment of ttie subject. The conferences were not monologues an'd fulfill the real meaning of the word conference, a meeting of minds. Inspiring scenes such as the following happened more than once. "The Sister who spoke on the good use of admonitions added: 'Recently .I.was so proud that, when my attention was called to a fault by _one of my Sisters of whom I had asked charity, I manifested displeasure. I. very l~umbly'ask pardon for having done ~o and als6, Sister, I'ask.for yours, who p.e?formed this act of charity towa'rds me.' At these words, the other Sister knelt down and said: 'It is I, Sister, who ask your forgiveness. I did not admon'ish you as I should have done, foi there were others present.' " (I, xv.) The Co£tent "" P~re Coste summarizes the content of the conferences in his troduction to the work. ;'His addresses chiefly dealt withthe voca-tion of Daughters of Cha)ity; their functions; thepoor, the sick, the foundlings; their daily exercises: rising, prayer, their general and par-ticular rules; the Christian virtues and those ¯which .go to make up. the spirit of the Company: simplicity, charity, humility, mortifica-tion, loVe~of work; the" frequentation of the Sacraments; Confession and Communion. Scandal, temptations, envy, admonitions, and the Jubile~ were also subjects of excellent conferences. He devoted several conferences to the virtues of deceased Sisters, and Sisters who were sent to the. proviricds were not allowed to.depart~ithout a few words of advice. The elections of officials .was'~ilso an occasion for a biief address. The. choice of subject was dictated by circumstances~ the needs of the Company, and the suggestions of St. Louise de 322 . November, -1952 MON~IMENT TO M. VINCENT rillac." (I, xii.) , St. Vincent had much to say about prayer. "Pray'er is th~ soul of our souls--that is to say, that what the soul is to the body, prayer is to the soul . The soul without prayer isalmost like a body without a soul, in what concerns the service of God; .it is without feeling, movement,, and has only worldly and earthly de-sires. I may also add that prayer is like a mirror in which the soul ¯ can see all its stains and disfigurements; it notds what renders it dis-pleasing to God; it arranges itself sb that it may be conformable to Him in all things." (II, 49.) Very practically, Vincent associates success in prayeb with re-tiring on time, getting enough sleep, and mostly with prompt rising. "Risi,ng is the first act of fidelity we render to God:. ~. the rest of the day. is determined by rising in the morning. Befiev~ me, there is no us~ in fighting with your pillow; you are always bound to lose" (iI, 22). "If sleeping during prayer becomes a habit, then one should, in order to get rid of it, stand upright, kiss the floor, or renew one's attention from time to time because, if we do not remedy this bad habit, it will return daily. Ar.e you not aware that there is a devil whose business Jr'is to put people to sleep when the~ are at " Pra.ger?" (I, 29.) ¯ He also suggests the use of pictures of Our Lord and .the saints as a help durifig prayer. Spiritual reading as a help to prayer is highly commended. "You must never fail to find time to read a chapter'of some devout book; it is very .easy and most necessary, for, as in the morning you" speak to God when at prayer, so God speaks to you when you read. If you wish your prayer to be heard by God, listen to God when you read. Theie is no. les.s' happiness and profit in list~ning to God than there is in speaking to Him. Hence, I strongly recommend you not to fail to do so, as far as you can and, if possible, to spend a little time in prayer afterwards." (I, 105.) The most difficult mortification is proposed to the Sisters. "Mor-tification is. also necessary, Sisters, if you are to endure the little suf-ferings that are bound to crop up in the course of your' exercises, and. the complaint.s tba.t those poor people may make about you. When .~he gentlemen in charge of the wounded pay them a visit, they may perhaps hear complaints about you; the wounded may tell them that you have not looked after them, that you ldft them all alone from morning until go6dness knows what hour. Very well, Sisters, ~ll that must be endured without complaining; do not seek to justify 323 JEROME BREUNIG yourselves, oh! no, never!" (IIL~ 3.) "The last means of loving God continually, and for ever ismsuffefifi~:' ~o suffer sicknesses, if God sends them; to suffer calumny, if we are unjustly .attacked; to suffer interi.orly the trials God sends us to test our fidelity''~ (II, .105) A witness to much deterioration in religious life,-Vincent was opposed to the'~ very Shadow of la'~ity. "The third thing-which.- causes.us to lose the love of our "vocation is-~-I shall not say im-p6rity, 6h! no, never, b.y~G6d's grace h:is this sin, even been men-tioned-- but merely' a certain sort of unrestrain.ed liberty. On~ is quite, pleased to meet men; one. is not a bit disturbed at listening to them.; one replies to and.,.enters into conversation, with them, even with one's'confessors apart from confession; on'e passes th~ timd in .speaking of matter~ that are neither necessary nor urgent, but just tO keep up a conversatmn. (II, 89.) F rstDaugbter ot: Charity" Among the finest conferences are those which treat of. the lives the first members.' .Here is "an abbreviated account of the. "First ' Daughter.of Charity": "Margaret Nas'eau, of Suresnes, was the first Sister who had the happiness of pointing out the road to our other Sisters," both in the education of. young girls and in nursing the sick,° although she had no other ma~ter: or mistress but'God. She w~is a poor, uneducated cow-herd. Moved by a powerful inspiration from Heaven, the idea occu'rred to h'~r that she would instruct children and so she bought an alphabet but, as she cduld not go to school for in-struction, ~he went and._asked the parish priest or curate tJ3 tell her what were the first four letteks, of the, alphabet. On another occasion, she asked what¯were the next four, and so on for the rest. Afte/~, Wards, whilst she minde~l her cows, she studied her lesson . "She afterwards made up her ~mind to go from village to village instructing the young . It was xiery .remarkable that she und~rto01~ all this withotit money or any other help save that of Divine Provi-dence.': She often fasted for whole days, and dwelt in .places bf which nothing remained but the walls. The harddr she worked at t~eachiJ~g the children, the more th~ ~village folk laughed at and' calumniated her. Her zeal gre~w more ardent . She provided for the education of some young men who had not the means of doing so . These ybung men are now good priests. Finally, when she learned" that there was a Confraternity of Charit~y'ifl Paris for the sick poor, she went- there moved by a desire 324 November, 1952 BOOK REVIEWS to be employed in this work, and although, she ~reatly desired to cc;ntinue instructing the young, nevertheless she laid aside this char-itable. work to take'up that of nursing the sick poor, which she be-lieved to be more perfect and charitable. This was, indeed, the will of. God, for He intended her to be the first Daughter of Charity and servant of the sick poor in the city of Paris. She attracted .to the work other gikls whom she ha'd helped to detach from all earthly vanities and to embrace a devout life. " . She Was most patient and never complained. Everybody loved be~ because ther.el was nothing' in her that was not lovable. Her charity was ~o great that she died from sharing her bed with a poor plague-stricken girl.". (I, 71-3.) THE LIFE AND WORKS OF ST. VINCENT DE PAUL. By Pierre Coste, C.M. Translated by Joseph Leonard, C.M. Pages' in Volumes: I, xxiii -f- 608; II, xi-]- 500; III, xii -]- 563. Newman Press, Westmin-ster, Maryland, 19S2. Three-vohme set, $1S.00. .CONFERENCES OF ST. VINCENT DE PAUL TO THE SISTERS ,OF CHARITY. Edited by Pierre Coste, C.M. Translated by Joseph Leonard, C.M. P~acjes'in Volumes; I,xxii -1- 322; II, vi -~ 310; III, vl -f-, 317; IV, xi -b 340. Newman Press, Westminster, Maryland, 19S2. Four-volume set, $16.00. For comment on these volumes see the article, "A Monument to Monsieur Vincent," beginning on page 315. THE IGNATIAN WAY TO GOD. By Alexander Brou, S.J. Translated by William J. Young, S.J. Pp. xii-1- 156. The Bruce Publishing Com-pany, Milwaukee, 19S2. $3.7S. This'exposition of the spirituality of St. Ignatius was written by Father Brou mainly to disprove a charge that Ignatian spirituality is "rigid and excessively methodical." He begins his work with a briel/ study of St. Ignatius himself and his directives on' prayer to his young Society, and,goes on from there to show that the spirituality of St. Ignatius is in all essentials that of the Spiritual Exercises. The purpose of the latter is to prepare one to seek the will of God and, having~found it, to embrace it. And ¯prayer for St. Ignati6s has the. same end. Father Btou says: "Prayer, according to St. Ignatii~s, is. 325 BOOK REVIEWS~ ' . Revi~w'f~or Religious a'combination of personal activity and of surrender to the inspira-tionof God, of method and of liberty," all of Which points he provesfrom the-bobk of the Exercises. ~ "Intriguing chapters in the development are: "The Exercises and the Graces. of P'rayerl . Id'quod ; olo," in the' Spiritual Exercises:, "The Men"formed to great hdliness by the SpiritUal Exercises; and, finally, in an Appendix, "The Liturgical Life and'the Spirituality of St. Ignatius!' a refutation of the fancied opposition between Igna-tian Spirituality and the Litfirgical Movement. A shcond App~ndi~ contains the~ following." "A D.e.scription of the Spirituality of St.~ Ig-natius," "The Holy See and the Exercisesof St. Ignatius," "The Method of St. Ignatius j and those of Louis of Granada and of' St. Francis de Sales," which shows the striking similarity between ¯ them. Each chapter of this excellent treatment of Ignatian Spirituality is bulw~rkdd by abundant references to sources,, collected in a special section in,the back of the book so that anyone ~ho wishes to.inves-tigate the subject more.deeplyhas start'ing leads for doing so. ~ -~.' ~UBREY 3. REID, S.J. SAINT THERESE AND SUFFERING. By Abb& C~ombes. Translated from the French Edition by Msgr. P; E. Haileff. Pp. rift -k 130. P./.Kene-dy &iSo.ns, Ne~v York, 1951. $2.S0. '" '.'Shadow on the Earth" mea.nt human sufferings'in the'fine bo.ok of.the same title by Owen Francis .Dudley, And anyone .wh, o i~ s.uffering.or~ has suffered kno~3vs that suffering.i~ truly a heavy shadow coming betv~een God .and us and putting our faith in Him to. a.severe test. We think'somewhat as follows: "God is all powerful. and He:loves me: And my, needis ov.erwhelming. Why doesn't'He help me?" TO any and all .who are asking a question of this kind, we strongly recommend Saint Th3rb'se and Suffering by Abb~ Combes. The author undertakes to make known St. Th~r~se's attitude to-wards sufferin~ as revealed in her own words and acti.ons.' "Tl~e Carmelite Saint of Lisieux is shown to be a sufferer from her earliest days. From.her First Holy Communidn she begins to welcome ¯ suffering and even to'find mysterious happiness in it. From then on suffering meant to her the price, she had to ,pay, to love Our I~ord greatly and to win souls from hell for Him. ' . , But.finally Th~r~se-tells us that she;~ .no longer desires ~.uffe.rings,i 326 November;,.195?_ ¢, BOOK REVIEWS but ':'the perfect accomplishment of the will 6f God~in my so~l." However, the Will of God for her is further sufferings, .indeed her great~st cross of suffering, for from the beginning of April, 1896, tintil:her death on September 30, 1897, she endured almost without break or respite severe trials of her faith in God's Goodness, and in her belief in heaven: see~rfiingly all her prayers went unanswered and the ravages of the disease' which would bring about her death were causing her intense physical, pain. And so St. Th~r~se died, as did her Savior, on the cross--b~ut how quickly came the Shower of Roses which proved that Th~r~se was,"living h~r heaven in doing good on earth," as she had promised. ° Now what do. we learn from St. Th~r~se about suffering? One point we surely notice is thai suffering did not in any degree distort her character. Suffer greatly though she did, St. Th~r~se will always. be one of the most lovable, attractive, and "inspiring Of the saints. In her life We learn" again the old truth that suffering is often a most precious gift of God. It merits His love. It helps to save souls. It gives~im something very special for which He can reward "us in heaven. Then most important of all. for us, as for Th&~se, as even fo,r the Son of God Himself. the rock bottom reason for accepting suffer; ing and bearing it patiefitly is that'it is God's will for us. And this too is the very heart of Th&~se's "Little Wa~r to God" in all things to trust ourselves to God With complete confidence in His love for us.AUBREY ,J. REID, S.,J. 0 PROCEEDINGS OF .CONGRESS OF RELIGIOUS The proceedings of the Firs~ National CongreSS of Religious held at the Uni-versity of N6tre Dame, August~, 1952, are being published under the title. Relioidus, Community,Life in the United States, in two separate books, one for the men's ses-sion and "one for the Sisters' session. A cloth bound copy of- ehch book of approxi-mately 300 pages is being'sold for $2.50. If you ~,ish to participate in the lim-ited first, printing, which is promised before Christmas. order promptly from: ,~Th.e ¯ Paulist Press. 401 West 59th ,Street, NeW-York 19; New York. ! "327 BOOI~'NOTICE~ ReviOw [or.I~etiOious . ,- ",'- ' BOOK'N6TICES" Thd'Dominicafi Nuns of'Cdr-pus Christi Mbnast~ery, Menlo Park, . California deserve thanks for translating so competently the book" KINSHIPS by Reverend ~ntonin S~rti]langes, O.P. In it you will find 76 brief chapters well suited to" induce- deeper,~spiritual insight and enthusiasm. Several chapters, though their exact number varies, have been grouped beneath the following gefieral subjects: ~od's, Presence, His Providence, Union with God, Love for G0d,Lo;e for .Self, Lovd for Others, the Apostolate. Sometimes a single parggraph, occasion-a! ly¯ one brief sentence, will make you pause tb'pofider and to pray. (New York: McMullen Books Inc.,,195~. Pp. v + 234. $2.95.) BE YE ~RFECT by David L. Greenstock, ~s a treatment, both scientific and devotional, of Christian perfection and various aspects of it. Much is made, for instance, of th~ distinction between essen- Hal perfectiofi, that is, being in the state of grace, and accidental per: fection, ulterior degrees of grace and virtue. The former is possible to all and ought to Be attained by all; how much farther one~n~o depefids upo~ the particular providence, of God. Those wno'nave a fair knowledge of the spiritual life would not learn much by reading this work, and people who are looking for an inffoduction would' d0 well to seek it in other books. This one is confusing rather than informative, and it is more ap~ to leave one comforted and contented wlth'mediocrity in virtue than to stimulate one to great'efforts. (St. Louis;.B. Herder Book Co., ¯1.'952. Pp. 362. $5.00.) A capable author with an attractive subject should produce a ¯ g0°~l biography. This formula works effectively in Katherine Bur-ton's THE TABLE OF THE KING, the story of Emmelie. Tavernier Gan~elin, Foundress bf tl~e Sisters of Charity of Providence. The words that w~re later inscribed on the coat of arms of the first Provi-dence Asile, "The Charity of Christ urget,h us," were' almost miracu-lously operative in Emmeli~ from her ~arly childhood, whe~ she used to distribute alms for her mother. As a girl still in her teens, she had a room set apart in the house where she fed the poor at "the table of the King"mherself do!ng the cooking, serving, .and ~lish-washing. Th'rough sorrow over the successive loss of her husband andthree small children she learned fhe practical need of trust in DivineProvi-dence; and this¯ trust was deepened and broadened when the bare cup-board of her first Old Ladies' Home was repeatedly replenished in an unforeseen manner. It is not strange that God should choose such a 328 November, 1957. BOOK ANNoUNcEMENTS woman to found an ifistitute w_h.oie function is Charity and Whose principle of growth is unbounded trust in Providence. (New o~or, k: McMullen Books, Inc., 1952.) "Come North as ~oon as possible!" These were th'e words Bishop Midge to M6tber Xavier, foundress.of the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth. COME NORTH is the exciting story of Ann Ross of Methodisi~ Parentage--her father was a harsh, unforgiving Method-ist preacher who disowned th~ daughte~r after she ran away to the convent. Sister Julia Gilmore, S.C.L., is to be congratulated for the very readable account of the spiritual 'and spatial odyssey of the ~oundress of her own flourishing~'ongregation. There0is hardly a dull page in the entire book, from .the account of the birth of Ann Ross in 1813 to that graphic account of the '.'aged itinerant revival-jsti' who drove up to the St. Mary Female Institute near Leaven-worth, Kansas. All unknown to himself, this circuit rifler had come to the Academy founded by his own sister who many years ago had run away from home. to enter a convent.The book ends thus: "Two Sisters walked with him to the c~metery~where he saw the plain white marker that reads: Mother Xavier.Ross Died April 2, 1895 Aged 82 years." '(New York: McMullen Books, Inc., 1951. Pp. 310. $3.50.) , , ' o Book ANNOUNCEMENTS [For the most part, these notices are.purely descriptive, based on acursory exam-ination' of the books listed.] ¯ AMERICA PRESS, 70 E. 45th St., New York, 17, New York. The State and Religious Education. By Robert C. Hartnett, 'and Anthony T. Bouscaren. On recent SupremL, Court decisions, D~: Conant, and the California tax exemption case: Pamphlet, $.25. BRUCE .PUBLISHING CO., 400 Broadway, Milwaukee 1, Wisconsin. Life Begins With Eooe. By E.Boyd Barrett. "With a suc-cinctness that pierces: so.phisticotion and a depth of conviction that commands, the author summarizes this Imitation o: Christ for mod-erns: keep''your promises, keep your temper, keep oyour~mouth shut, keep you~r heart warm

Issue 56.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1997. ; for relig i ou s Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JANUARY-FEBRUARY 1997 ¯ VOLUME 56 ¯ NUMBER 1 lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the joumml are meant to be informative, practical, or inspirational, written from a theological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Lonis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: I:OPI~ EMA@SLUVCA.SI~U. E DU Manuscripts, books for review, aud correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDouough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ° Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional ,nailing offices. See inside back cover for iuformation on subscription rates. ©1997 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy an), material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal t, se of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear uotice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will o,aly be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisoty Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages.and Contemporary Living JA~NUARY-FEBRUARY 1997 ¯ VOLUME 56 ¯ NUMBER 1 contents living the consecrated life ~ 6 The Ambiguity of Religious Life: Does It Evolve? Nadine Foley OP highlights the living tradition of consecrated life evidenced in the phrase "consecration for mission" and its development in Vita consecrata. The Vatican II Generation and Religious Life Brian J. Pierce oP comments on his post-Vatican II experience of contemplative spirituality, community living and sharing, and ministry among the poor. Of Those Who Leave Us: A Typology Edward van Merrienboer OP describes five types of members seeking permission to leave and the behaviors that led to their petitions. growing as christians 37 Four Seasons for Christian Group Sharing Hilary Ot~ensmeyer OSB proposes a dynamic based on the framework of the four seasons for Christian groups to reach new levels of sharing. Inner Work with You~ Anger 'Paul Duckro, Marjorie Kukor, and Jean Meier CSJ present the potential of a contemplative or meditational encounter with anger, so linking the psychological and spiritual aspects of healing. On Letting Go Denise M. Callaghan SSND reflects on the pervasiveness of a "letting go" in the continuing call of God to us as individuals and as a community. Review for Religious 59 loving as celibates Nuptial Love and Discerning Celibacy's Call Daniel J. Trapp examines the specific call to celibacy as a spousal response to Christ's love. Consecrated Celibacy as Means, Peril, and Delight Melannie Svoboda SND describes a few aspects of the religious experience of consecrated celibacy which is rooted in the unfathomable mystery of God's radical-mad love. 72 finding God Mystical Moments in Daily Life Matthias Neuman OSB calls attention to the mystical moments that reveal a transcendent mysteriousness and often a holy . presence which are a part of our ordinary faith experience. Silence Donald Macdonald SMM points the ways in which silence helps us perceive the priceless gift of a Spirit-filled world. Jesus, Power, and the ONE Edmundo Rodriguez SJ presents a way of understanding how action on behalf of justice is sanctioned by the life and teaching of Jesus. departments Prisms ~.,~ /~o ~ ~-,~, ~-Jf~o,o- Canonical Counsel: Diocesan Institutes and Pontifical Institutes Book Reviews January-February 1997 prisms Jesus is the focus of this year's celebra-tions preparatory to the coming third millennium. In John Paul's apostolic letter "As the Third Millennium Draws Near," the thematic structure of the three-year period 1997- 1999 is Trinitarian. Since the distinctly Christological char-acter of the jubilee is a primary emphasis, the first year, 1997, is devoted to "reflection on Christ, the Word of God, made man by the power of the Holy Spirit" (40). National conferences of bishops, local dioceses and individual parishes, religious congregational provinces, and other church organizations have proposed various ways of entering into this reflection on Christ: Some helpful study aids, reflection guides, and discussion outlines are available. Programs and conferences, gatherings among various Christian churches, and especially prayer services are planned throughout .the year. We all are called to become a part of this movement-- like a three-year-long Advent preparation--to celebrate our Christian jubilee. The challenge for each of us is accept-ing our responsibility "to know Christ Jesus" and acting on it. Knowing Jesus was a constant theme of St. Paul's writ-ings to the young churches. It is the theme reemphasized in our preparation for celebrating the millennium. How do we come to know Jesus? Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John each give us a way of knowing Jesus. Every Gospel account became a composite reflection of the stories told about Jesus within an evange-list's particular community. Details and settings of the same stories differ from Gospel account to Gospel account, and it does not matter. Each way of telling the story is true in its Review for Religious ability to give us an entrance into knowing Jesus. At one moment in our lives, through the Gospel of Mark we may find ourselves impressed by the immediate sense of Jesus' activism, the uncluttered quality of his speech, the directness of his affective response. At another time we appreciate the Jesus of Luke's Gospel, who appears so much the person of prayer, compassion, and lively joy. Sometimes the longer wisdom stories of John's Gospel and the image-identity language of being bread, life, light, vine, shepherd, gate, or para-clete call us to pe~r deep into our well of meditation. Over and over as we move through the Gospels, we find ourselves always com-ing to know Jesus~ Perhaps, taking our cue from St. Paul, we might discover anew the insight especially applicable to our millennium preparation. Necessary and helpful as the Gospel accounts are for our knowing Jesus, only in entering into our own experience will we find the Jesus who calls us by name, knocks at the door of our heart, and persists in bringing about the fullness of the reign ofGod. St. Paul was marked forever by his experience of One saying to him, "It is Jesus of Nazareth whom you are persecuting." For Paul there was no confusion of James and Joseph and Julia and Claudia with Jesus. But Paul realized that, in his dealings with James and Joseph and Julia and Claudia, he was also dealing with Jesus and coming to know him more, Paul came to know Jesus the more he preached and the. more he worked with all the people in his churches and the more he prayed. What Paul focuses for each of us is the Jesus in front of us, the Jesus whose coming we await by the way we live and minis-ter now. Jesus in his total gift of living and dying and Jesus in his sure promise of coming is always being made present to us in the Eucharist and so in his Body, the church. We experience Jesus. Experiencing Jesus is more than studying Christology or gospel reading. Experiencing Jesus is more than serving a, soup line or demonstrating for peace. Experiencing Jesus is knowing Jesus in the way that Paul exhorts his churches to know Jesus and to let themselves be seen as models of imitation because of that knowl-edge. The demand for people who know Jesus in this way has never been so clearly expressed as it is in the pope's apostolic letter. In John's Gospel, the story is told of some Greeks who came forward to Philip, making the request "We want to see Jesus." How will we, with the question coming both from within us and from with-out, respond this year to that request? David L. Fleming SJ ~anuary-FebtwaO, 1997 living the consecrated life NADINE FOLEY The Ambiguity of Religious Life: Does It Evolve? A number of years ago, in one of those seemingly endless discussions about the character of religious life that flour-ished among women religious after Vatican Council II, I remember making a reference to the evolution of reli-gious life. Within my hearing a canonist vehemently snapped out an objection. "Her response startled me; I could not see a reason for her agitated insistence. Was it the word evolution? The word seemed appropriate to me as a member of a religious congregation of women whose founders, responding to needs of the mid-1800s, emerged from their cloistered life in Regensburg, Germany, and ,.met the challenges of ministry in their new home in America. The move was not merely geographical. It entailed considerable adaptation of their lifestyle, their sense of mission, and ultimately their self-identity as a religious congregation of women. Their revered daily reg-imen of discipline and prayer as Second Order Dominican nuns was not immediately adaptable to what they were to undertake in a new and strange world. In due time they made the wrenching decision to become conventual Third Order Dominicans, an available alternative within Dominican structures. Was this development some kind of evolution? Nadine Foley OP, a former president of the Leadership Council of Women Religious (LCWR), is professor of religious studies at Siena Heights College and is historian for the Adrian Dominican Sisters. She can be addressed at 1257 East Siena Heights Drive; Adrian, Michigan 49221. Review for Religious Other institutes of women religious, founded directly for active apostolic or ministerial life, came sooner or later to share much similarity with active institutes such as mine that have their ¯ historical roots in the cloistered contemplative life. For both of these groups, there were expectations of meeting the obligations that had pertained to contemplative life: separation from the world, limited contact with the laity, conformity in dress and often in demeanor, a set horarium of prayer and liturgical observance, and disciplinary practices of silence, self-abnegation, and obedi-ence. Many of these were unique to women religious and not shared by their male counterparts. But changes were occurring in women's religious life without the appropriate "infrastructure" to support it. Modifications were made--dropping night vigils and prayers, from the daily horarium, omitting face veils from the prescribed dress, and the like--but tensions often existed, whether acknowledged or not. The model for the religious life of women remained that of the enclosure. The 1917 Code of Canon Law, welcome in many respects, more or :less fixed the ambiguity canonically in the sense that its architects--and, no doubt, members of religious institutes as well--did not have a clear perception that something new was emerging in religious life and might require a new look at the canonical legislation. In the 1930s and 1940s religious congrega-tions hastened .to write new constitutions in conformity with the Code while at the same time many made formal application for the status of pontifical institute. The all-consuming preoccupation for women religious (and many men religious as well) was with developing the entire spectrum of Catholic education and health-care to meet the needs of a burgeoning Catholic population. The effort required education of the members in all of the relevant fields of specialization to meet the standards of accrediting agen-cies. Meanwhile, imperceptible to the outside observer and even to many within religious life, a ferment of dissatisfaction and dis-affection was gradually spreading. The competencies developed by religious in the many secular fields required for their professional ministries had the additional effect of providing them with criti-cal tools of analysis that they began to apply to their own per-sonal development and their social organization as religious institutes. Then came Vatican Council II. By this time the institutes of women's religious life were ready for the directives from Rome ffanuary-Febrttaty 1997 that followed it: Hold a general chapter of renewal within three years, consult all the members in preparation, and enter into a period of experimentation where it seems advisable. A further communication, directing the institutes to write new constitu-tions and statutes, called for a thorough review of the original inspirations of the founders. No one could have predicted the impact of what followed, particularly when the institutes devel-oped internal processes for consulting all the members. Their reflections and consultations brought to the fore a wealth of expe-rience that hitherto had not been factored into general-chapter decisions about the congregations' agendas. The questions and the solutions were wide ranging and radical in the very good sense of reaching to the roots of religious life and its very identity. Reexamining origins and reflection upon a century and a half of experience in ministry were critical in formulating new con-stitutions. The documents produced were perhaps the first to reflect the character of women's active, or ministerial, ~eligious life. Mining the rich tradition~ in the original inspirations of reli-gious institutes led to a breadth in understanding ministry, not so much as specific works, but as response to the needs of people in our times. 'But a parallel effort was in progress at the same time: the reform of the Code of Canon Law. While religious worldwide submitted data for the section on religious life, their work on constitutions proceeded without benefit of knowing how the canonical revisions were progressing. In the final analysis, while some strides were made, religious were unable to find in the revised canons support for some of the new approaches--to traditional values of governance, community, ministry, the vows-- that had already been duly incorporated into their constitutions and statutes. As one who participated in the process of gaining approval of new constitutions through conversations with members of the Vatican Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL, a recent name change that requires its own exegesis), I had a privileged vantage point from which to examine the notion that religious life does not evolve. While processes had been devised whereby entire congregations participated in developing new constitutions (documents that for the first time accurately reflect our sense of identity as ministerial congregations of women religious), it became quite clear that we were expected ,to fit into a Procrustean bed of fixed categories. Review for Religious The suggestion, once heard, that we could save ourselves a lot of trouble if we just settled upon calling ourselves "secular insti-tutes" epitomized the problem. We did not fit many canonical expectations of "consecrated life," but at the same time we found no comfort in being labeled secular institutes. ("Institutes of apos-tolic life," founded specifically for traditional "missionary" activ-ity in "foreign" lands, continues to be a unique category.) It is against this background that I read the postsynodal apos-tolic exhortation Vita consecrata. Many things can be said about this document, some positive and some nega-tive. (I will not dwell here on the persis-tence of noninclusive language.) But I take encouragement in the inference I draw from it that there is basis here for the idea that religious life can in fact evolve--or at leastodevelop, if that is a more acceptable word. I draw this conclusion as I move from chapter 2 to chapter 3 and find a distinct theological shift from a transcendent view of religioils life to what I will call an incar-national one. The shift is particularly evi-dent in the treatment of consecration, no longer wholly identified with the vows, but associated with mission in the phrase "con-secration for mission." While the theological reorientation is not consistent throughout, the theme is pervasive enough to be noted as a significant change. Two themes that are present throughout 'the exhortation are consecration and eschatology. The manner of their treatment illus-trates, the shifting theology. In chapter 1 the organizing biblical text is Matthew's account of the transfiguration, described as "a decisive moment in the ministry of Jesus" (§ 15, italics in the original here and elsewhere). While the document presents this experi-ence of Peter, James, and John as constantly relived by the whole church, a people on its way to the eschatological encounter with its Lord, it has particular meaning for those called to the conse-crated life. For, we read, Peter's words "Lord, how good it is to be here! . eloquently express the radical nature of the vocation to the consecrated life." The. ecstasy and the mystery of the trans-figuration lead to the evangelical counsels as "a specific acceptance of the mystery of Christ, lived within the Church" (§16). Thus reli- Reexamining origins and reflection upon a century and a half of experience in ministry were critical in formulating new constitutions. Januaty-February 1997 gious consecration is linked to the eschatological realization of the reign of God to come. Applying this interpretation to the three basic vocations within the church, the text reads: "The laity, by virtue of the secular character of their vocation, reflect the mystery of the Incarnate Word particularly insofar as he is the Alpha and the Omega of the world, the foundation and measure of the value of all created things. Sacred ministers, for their part, are 'living images of Christ the Head and Shepherd who guides his people during this time of 'already and not yet,' as they await his coming in glory. It is the duty of the consecrated life to show that the Incarnate Son of God is the eschatological goal towards which all things tend, the splendor before which every other light pales, and the infinite beauty which alone can fully satisfy the human heart" (§16). The three vocations here do not reflect the division of the church into episcopacy, clergy, and laity found in Vatican II's Lumen gentium, an outline that, by including nonclerical religious only invisibly among the laity, seems to drop them from the church (see LG §§31 and 43). While harking back to the "objective superiority of the conse-crated life" (§§18 and 32), a notion seemingly abandoned after Vatican II, chapter 1 acknowledges that religious life, in addition to its eschatological witness, is also "a particularly profound and fruitful way of sharing in Christ's mission, in imitation of the exam-ple of Mary of Nazareth, the first disciple" (§18). The "sacred bond of chastity for the sake of the kingdom of God" is singled out as the first and essential evangelical counsel. A further expansion to all the church's members' manifesting the one mystery of Christ is contained in the statement (here retranslated from the Latin) that, "as their specific but not exclusive characteristics, the lay faithful have activity in the world, the clergy have ministry, and consecrated men and women have special conformity to Christ chaste, poor, and obedient.''l This assertion occurs in the discus-sion of baptism and confirmation's conferral of a consecration that is common to all members of the people of God (§31). Erroneously but understandably, "ministry" in the official English translation of this sentence is sometimes taken to be the exclusive responsibility of the clergy, and special conformity to Christ in chastity, poverty, and obedience an exclusive character-istic of consecrated men and women. The qualifier "but not exclu-sively" seems to be attached only to the specific characteristic of the laity ("activity in the world") when in fact it pertains to the Review for Religious specific characteristics of the other two groups as well. Just as the laity and the clergy are not to repudiate the importance of their own "conformity to Christ chaste, poor, and obedient," neither priests nor (at least during the last several hundred years) women and men religious have been excluded from activity "in the world" along.with the laity. This is "missionary" activity, understood in the fundamental sense of their having been baptized into mission. It is just possible that collectively reli-gious have been quite as involved in ministry in the world as the laity have been, and no doubt proportionately more so until the recent past. Further reflection upon these three distinct-- but also overlapping (officially in this document and manifestly in historical praxis)--categories of baptized people seems to suggest that such separation of roles among the people of God no longer serves, If all the people of God are baptized into mission, and bear a responsibility for it, saving the term ministry exclusively for bishops and priests would scarcely be helpful. The term is today widely applied to many kinds of ser-vice as forms of diakonia, an essential component of mission, along with kerygma and koinonia--preaching and community. Perhaps in this connection we could profit from an expanded exploration of the meaning of the priesthood of all of the faithful. In various ways it is being exercised, but without the kind of theological reflec~ tion that would help us understand who we are as a total priestly people of God addressing the many aberrations in faith and morals that surround us in our global society today~ For many of us the subhead "Consecrated for mission" that appears at the beginning of chapter 3 leaps off the page as a sign of theological breakthrough. It encapsulates the case that I tried to"make for this concept in.my 1989. LCWR presidential address (see Origins 19, no. 13 [31 August 1989]: 209-214). At that time the idea abroad here and there that some r.eligious had opted for consecration and others for mission seemed dangerously divisive. The dichotomy became a defining issue for reflecting upon who and what women religious uniquely had become. We were and If all the people of God are baptized into mission, and bear a responsibility for it, saving the term ministry exclusively for bishops and priests would scarcely be helpful. Janltary-Febrvtmy 1997 are present in the world not merely as a kind of ethereal escha-tological "sign" of the kingdom to come--by reason of the vows we profess, that particular consecration of ours. Rather, we were and are present also as ministerial workers actively advancing the good of people and, thereby, the reign of justice and peace. In this way, too, we are a striking sign of the reign of God--by rea-son of our dedication to the mission of Jesus, consecration in that sense as well. Indeed, as the exhortation at this point says, "The task of devoting themselves wholly to 'mission' is ~,. included in their call . A sense of mission is essential to .every institute, not only those dedicated to the active apostolic life, but also those dedicated to the contemplative life" (§72). In support of this, Luke 4:16~ 19 is cited to emphasize that the Spirit has consecrated Jesus to bring good news to the poor, to captives, to the blind (§82). Consecration for mission places the vows in a new context and suggests that they testify to the evangelical counsels' "profound anthropological significance" (§87). Chastity is presented as a response to "a hedonistic culture which separates sexuality from all objective moral norms, often treating it as a mere diversion and a consumer good and, with the complicity of the means of social communication, justifying a kind of idolatry of the sexual instinct" (§88). Poverty is related to "a materialism which craves possessions, heedless of the needs and sufferings of the weakest, and lacking any concern for the balance of natural resources" (§89). And obe, dience is a response to "those notions of freedom which separate this fundamental human good from its essential relationship to the truth and to moral norms. In effect, the promotion of freedom is a genuine value, closely connected with respect for the human person, But who does not see the aberrant consequences of injus-tice and even violence, in th( life of individuals and of peoples, to which the distorted use of freedom leads?" (§91). These ideas on the vows, incarnational in my view, are more compatible with our experience than the idealized and "transcendental" notions pre-sented in the earlier sections of the document. They are consonant with the serious study we have done on Gaudium et spes and with the implications we have drawn for our identity in mission and the ministries we have undertaken to further the reign of God. These interpretations are welcome in expressing a realistic understand-ing of the vows, one with which we can identify. Whether or not~ religious life evolves is in the end not that sig-nificant a question. What really is at issue is whether or not the Review for Religious church--and the religious life within it--has a living tradition, one that adapts and grows and grafts new things into its old self, for the sake of gospel mission. The experience of women reli-gious over the years reveals that there is a dynamic interior prin-ciple among us that challenges, motivates, energizes, and adapts in our ongoing history. The traditional values of religious life are not cast aside; they are evaluated in new contexts, reinterpreted and reformulated for our mission in the contemporary world. Our communal discernment in these recent years convinces us that this interior principle is the Holy Spirit, to whom we must be faithful. Thus, Vita conseo'ata, Pope John Paul's postsynodal exhor-tation "on the consecrated life and its mission," strikes us as an affirmation of a movement of the Spirit of God that we have rec-ognized in our experience and articulated in our theological reflec-tion. We are happy to find this movement acknowledged in this exhortation. Note i "Licet varia haec genera unum Christi mysterium demonstrent, pro-prietatem peculiarem quamvis non unicam laici prae se ferunt, saecular-itatem nempe, pastores ministeriorum curationem, homines consecrati peculiarem cum Christo virgine paupere oboediente conformationem" (AAS 88, no. 5 [13 May 1996]: 405, §31). Our Lady of the Gifts Bewildered by the gifts: they bring Her son--such treasurest. and still listening For more nightsongs strange spirits sing, Her human love thrusts these apart As not fully human; let him start With just one gift; pressed to her breast For all she has to give: her human heart. Nancy G. Westerfield Janua~y-Februmy 1997 BRIAN PIERCE The Vatican II Generation and Religious Life lhad just celebrated my second birthday when John XXIII _~-went over to a dusty, closed window, threw it open with a smile, and invited the windy spirit of Vatican Council II in to freshen things up a bit. Needless to say, I do not recall the excite-ment of that time. Nor do I remember where I was when the news broke that John F. Kennedy had been shot. Only three at the time, I was probably building a fort in a sandbox somewhere-- totally oblivious to the tears and shock that swept the nation and the world, sending my mother into early labor. I do not even remember my little brother's birth the next morning. My preparation for first Communion was with a group of guitar-playing sisters who taught us a revised version of the Act of Contrition (I never did learn the "0 my God, I am heartily sorry" version that my older brother learned). They taught us, too, thaf it was okay to chew the Communion host before swal-lowing it, something my brother had distinctly been told not to do. To top it all off, none of my philosophy or theology classes as a Dominican were in Latin, and so, every time an older Dominican tosses out a Latin phrase during a dinner conversation, We younger men just roll our eyes and pretend to know what he is saying. Coming from that background, I can honestly say that I love the church and am committed to continue the journey as a Brian J. Pierce oP is a member of a Dominican community whose activ-ity includes lay ministry formation, university ministry, and pastoral accompaniment of persons with AIDS. His address is Frailes Dominicos; Apartado 2608, San Pedro Sula; Honduras, Central America. Review for Religious believer, a disciple of Jesus, and a preacher in the family of St. Dominic. I often get the feeling, though, that some of those who grew up in the pre-Vatican church look at us of the postconciliar generation as second-class Catholics: "Nobody can call himself a real Catholic if he's never attended a forty-hours' devotion," said one of those faithful daily-Mass folks to me one morning. I swallowed and smiled, not daring to confess to him that the young priest who had just "said Holy Mass" was one of those question-able "pseudo-Catholics." A sense of humor and some patient understanding help in those situations in which the distances between the generations seem irreconcilable. Religious Life and Spiritual Development In his recent book Further along the Road Less Traveled, M. Scott Peck, noted psychiatrist and spiritual guide, has capsulized in simple language the stages of spiritual development that James Fowler and others had mapped out earlier. Peck speaks of four stages: (1) chaotic-antisocial, (2) formal-institutional, (3) skeptic-individual, and (4) mystical-communal. My intention here is not to give an overview of the stages, but instead to comment on my own experience as a religious withi'n the post-Vatican church in light of Peck's categories. I realize that to make sweeping generalizations about faith development, especially on an institutional level, is both preten-tious and dangerous. I do so only as a way of situating us within the present moment so that we can more readily hear the Spirit calling us to growth. All ages of church history have had persons and communities representing each of the four stages. I think, though, that i( is safe to say that the pre-Vatidan church and reli-gious life had become somewhat bogged down in the legalistic uniformity of Peck's stage 2 (formal-institutional). Vatican II opened up the windows and doors of dialogue, both within the church and with the world. This dialogue marked the social and ecclesial environment in which my generation of religious grew up. In our childhood years Catholic liturgy was being transformed (causing its share of confusion, I later learned), and we began singing such hits as "Sons of God, hear his holy word" (inclusive language being still in an embryonic stagg). Renewal brought many new apostolic groups and movements, and there was an Janua~y-Febm,ary 1997 Pierce ¯ The Vatican H Generation and Religious Life overall air of dialogue and experimentation, especially in religious life. Uniformity was out, and modified habits and consensus deci-sion making were coming in. Vatican II's fresh breeze opened up the possibility for many persons and religious communities to move into skeptic-individ-ual faith development, Peck's stage 3. Peck says that, even though this stage is outwardly less "religious," it is in fact more "spiritual.". It is the stage of healthy questioning, conscientious dissent, and the blending of psychology and spirituality. In many ways those first years manifested themselves as an overreaction to the for-malities and legalisms of years past. In a positive sense it was a time of much dialogue and growth. My generation was still too young to be involved in 'the dialogue, but our early religious edu-cation took place in that environment. I remember the lay couple who taught our confirmation class in the early 1970s stressing that for us to be mature Christians we had to learn to make moral decisions with gospel responsibility. A far cry from the Baltimore Catechism of our parents' generation! Now we are in the 1990s and rapidly approaching the new millennium. Again, recognizing the frailty of making any kind of generalization, I think it safe to say that most of us raised in the postconciliar generation and most of the religious communities that went through renewal are still in Peck's stage 3. I do not mean that we have stopped growing or have become stagnant. Quite the contrary. In the American church in general and also among religious, a strong spirit of creative searching, is still preva-lent. At the same time, though, I think that very few religious communities have moved to what Scott Peck calls the mystical-community level. This may be quite natural, given the fact that Vatican II happened only thirty years ago, but my hope is that our generation may have something to offer here. Those of us who were formed in stage-3 parishes and reli-gious communities, complete with guitar Masses and face-to-face "celebrations of reconciliation," never went through the painful birthing process that gave way to the renewal of Vatican II. We are grateful to those who have gifted us with this rich inheritance-- a more mature and liberating life of faith within the community of believers. In many ways we had it easy, and perhaps it is now our .turn to lead the way through the desert. Many of my friends (ages twenty to forty) have left the church for a variety of reasons. Some have gone back to stage-2 Review for Religious Catholicism (usually lured there by disgruntled elders) or have found security in fundamentalist Christian groups. Reactionary Catholic religious congregations and movements and Bible-thumping evangelical churches (sometimes even with a shiny, high-tech faFade) are on the rise. Others of my friends--some of whom experimented with drugs--are trying to get to stage 4 by New Age pseudomysticism. Many young people today have a thirst for religious and mystical experience, and not all of them seek just a quick fix. The large num-ber of young adults (many ex-Catholics) adhering to the rigorous disciplines of Eastern meditation practices is an impor-tant phenomenon of our day. Our gener-ation is willing to sacrifice if we believe it is worthwhile (that is, no blind obedience, please). What, then, is this new journey that calls out to us today? If Our religious com-munities are not opening up the path to a deeper mystical and communal level of faith (Peck's stage 4), how can we respond in creative ways to bring about the needed growth? I am no expert on either faith development or postcon-ciliar religious renewal, nor do I propose to speak on behalf of all the Vatican II'generation. I simply speak out of my fourteen years of experience, prayerful struggle, and reflection as a Dominican. We have been hearing for several years now that religious life is in crisis, and I basically agree with that reading of the signs of the times. Crisis, however, does not have to mean something bad, a negative experience. Crisis can mean growth, a time for matur-ing, Just as past generations of Catholic religious strove to pro-duce new forms of religious life, so must we do today. This is no time to give up or go backward. We have received a generous and precious inheritance indeed, but the "not yet" of God's reign still burns within us: Now it is our generation's time and task to carry the torch. I am aware that much is being written about the renewal and refounding of religious life these days, and in no way do I intend a comprehensive overview of the issues at'stake. I will look at three main topics (contemplative spirituality, community living and sharing, and ministry among the poor) while attempting to We have received a generous and precious inheritance indeed, but "not yet" of God's reign still burns within us. I7- Januao,-Feb~waO, 1997 Pierce * The Vatican H Generation and Religious Life reflect on them from the perspective of us who were raised beneath the cool shade of Vatican II. Contemplative, Prayerful Living My mother, whbm I consider to be a fairly open and renewed Catholic, still pulls a tattered Stations of the Cross prayer book out of her purse to reflect on before Mass or after Communion. In other words, she still holds on to and receives life from the meditative and devotional practices common before Vatican II. That kind of prayer-book piety does not fill my spiritual needs, but neither does the "my ministry is my prayer" pastoral workaholism that apparently has taken its place, especially among us younger religious. It seems to me that we went from saying prayers (Peck's stage 2) to not saying prayers (stage.3 skepticism) and somewhere along the way began to lose sight of the plain, simple art of just praying. For many of us, the charismatic renewal, with its focus on prayer rather than saying prayers, offered a stepping-stone in our spiritual development, but the emotionalism and fundamental:- ism in the movement caused many to look elsewhere. I am con, vinced now more than ever, after five years of living among the destitute poor of Central America, that being a follower of Jesus necessitates a deep commitment to prayer--and prayer requires time, energy, and creativity. Without a very intentional spiritual life, we run the risk of doing many good things on an ego~ trip rather than out of gospel-based selfless love. As I grow in prayer-ful communion with God, I discover that my loving others is freer, less needy, more liberating. In the past several years, there has been a growing interest in contemplative and centering prayer throughout the country. This is a wonderfully hopeful sign, and in many places it is the laity who are taking the lead in this kind of prayer. It saddens me that I have lived in or visited religious communities where com-mon prayer is either nonexistent (stage-3 individualism, at best) or simply "reciting the breviary" (stage-2 formalism). In order to grow into a communal, stage-4 level of faith, we must learn once again what it means to really pray together. I occasionally spend my annual retreat with a small commu-nity of Benedictine women in Oklahoma. These women gather three times a day for contemplative, sitting meditation, a blend of Review for gelig4ous Catholic contemplative prayer and Eastern meditation practices. The shared silence has been a gift beyond measure for me. In my years of formation, we were enc.ouraged to give time each day to personal or "private" prayer--can Christian prayer ever be "pri-vate"?-- but because of the previous generations' experience of having to spend a half hour together each morning in the chapel for "meditation," we rarely shared silence as a form of prayer. It seems to me that in our day and age, with all its diversity and respect of the individual, we could profit immensely from a kind of shared prayer of silence. Silence binds together and bridges gaps in ways that words sometimes cannot. The liturgical reforms brought in by Vatican II .helped to bring our com-mon prayer back into the real world, but I believe that in many ways our common prayer has become just one more task to complete in the day's busy schedule and thus something that many find uninteresting. Introducing some shared silence into our common prayer can be a way of celebrating sacred time together in a "non-doing" manner. Prayer as a,task to be completed increases the workaholism of the many religious and lay Christians brought up on "do good to your neighbor" faith renewal after Vatican II. Not that we should reverse the renewal, for the recovery of the social-justice dimen-sion of our faith has been one of Vatican II's greatest gifts to the church; but are we perhaps only following our culture's insatiable drive for success and efficiency when we burn ourselves out as gospel do-gooders? A deep spirituality.that combines contem-plative prayer and Sabbath rest not only promotes gospel values, but challenges our consumerist society as well. The renewal of the contemplative dimension of our religious life consequently brings into question the professionalization of our ministerial commitments. I think that the emphasis on solid formation in theology, Scripture, and the social sciences that has come as a result of Vatican II is to be highly lauded, especially for women religious, for whom such opportunities were rare in the preconciliar years. To my mind, this move toward professional- In our day and age, with all its diversity and respect of the individual, we cof~Id profit immensely from a kind of shared prayer of silence. ~anua~y-February 1997 Pierce * The Vatican II G, eneration and Rdi~_ous Life ization, though, has taken away much of the evangelical freedom that marked the early years of our foundations. As professionals we have had to buy into the world of competitive salaries, con-trolled work schedules, tenure-track professorships, and the over-all efficiency mind-set that characterizes the corporate and professional marketplace. Can we honestly cultivate the deeply contemplative prayer life that we entered religious life desiring while yielding too much to that system? Without losing sight of the need to be justly compensated for our ministry, have we not given up some of the freedom to "be with and for God" by trad-ing in our vow of poverty for the corporate model of church life? Have we fallen into'a minimalisrunderstanding of Sabbath (noth-ing more than Sunday Mass) because of the demands of ministry? At a recent day-long conference on Dorothy Day and Thomas Merton--given by Jim Forrest, who knew them both--someone asked what his strongest memory of Dorothy Day was. Jim answered quickly and with no hesitation: "When I think of Dorothy, I think of her on her knees praying. She spent a lot of time in prayer." Imagine that! This dedicated social-justice apos-tle of the United States is remembered as a woman on her knees praying, and for long periods at a time. Stage 4's mystical dimen-sion cannot be integrated into our lives if prayer is just another point on the "things to do" list for the day (after clocking out from work at the social-service agency, of course). Our commu-nal and contemplative prayer must be leaven in the dough of our daily lives. For, when our prayer truly becomes prayer, then our ministry and our lives as a whole will also become prayer. Real Community vs. Corporate Individualism We know it. We say it. We preach it. We write books about it. But do we live it? Do we live real community? The early Christian communities were not sacramental fast-food outlets, nor were they the early predecessor to Motel 6 (key, clean bed, cable TV,, free breakfast, cheap rates). They were brothers and sisters who had made a commitment to each other and to fol-lowing in the footsteps of Jesus of Nazareth. They lived, shared their goods, worshiped, and died with and for one another and the gospel. The beatitudes were their daily bread, and they knew that being a disciple of J.esus was to be their everything, their cross and their deep joy. Jesus was the way, the path by which the com- Review for Religious munity of believers would walk together towards the promised reign of God. Does this sound a bit idealistic? Well, the picture which the Gospels and the Acts of the Apostles paint for us probably is a somewhat idealized version of reality. But let us not forget that these pictures appear in our Scriptures precisely because they were the goal towards which the early communities strove. Many ist-century Christians gave their lives to make this dream of com-munal gospel testimony a lived reality. Today we have the same struggles, difficulties, and weaknesses as the early Christians. But can we also claim to share the same goal of offering the world a living witness of the Body of Christ? I think that women and men religious provide coundess exam-ples of Christian witness, but I also think that the communal dimension of gospel living--and consequently of religious life-- has suffered great setbacks since Vatican II. We give ourselves to excellent and creative ministries, but more and more we do them alone. Everyone in the community has a project, and all the pro-jects are nicely organized under a fancy mission statement. We have all made use of the Myers-Briggs and the enneagram to facil-itate our once-a-month interface gatherings (which used to be called community meetings!), but does the world feel the force of our communal witness to the gospel of Christ? In my own Dominican tradition, the example of the first fri-ars in the Americas stands out strongly: a small band of Spaniards on the island of Hispaniola in the early 16th century. Needing to make a response to the atrocities of the conquest and oppression of the island's native inhabitants, and convinced that the atrocities were not the will of God, the community broke with the dominant theology of the day and preached that the Spanish conquerors were living in mortal sin because of their unjust treatment of the Indians. They all signed the community's homily that was preached by Antonio de Montesino, and, as expected, their words brought upon themselves a tidal wave of reactions, one of which was a harsh reprimand from their provincial back in Spain. Listening to the homily that day was young Bartolom~ de las Casas, who years later became the continent's most important defender of the cause of Indian rights. The question that blaringly stands out is whether or not the same words from a single Dominican friar on the island would have had the same dynamic effect on the history of Latin America that the community witness had. I think not. .']anuaty-FebruaD, 1997 Pierce ¯ The Vatican H Generation and Religious Life Today's church has become so individualistic in its focus that one wonders if there is still room for a prophetic witness in com-mon. The "something for everyone" mentality has worked its way into every part of chursh life in our country. Many of our parishes look more like the food malls where thirty or so minirestaurants are squeezed in between J.C. Penney's and Florsheim Shoes. We have become pastoral experts in creating a program for every-one, in itself not a bad outreach mentality; but the lack of focus is something we have to look at seriously. What is the message we are giving about the gospel? How can we celebrate the gains brought on by the council, with its renewal of lay participation in church life, without dispersing our witness in so many directions? I believe we need to step back and ask ourselves the tough ques-tion: Is corporate individualism the same as community? The question becomes even more urgent when we ask it from the point of view of publicly vowed religious life. Are we mir-roring the communal striving of the early Christian communi-ties or the strategic planning model of IBM? Brother David Steindl-Rast~OSB, in his book Gratefulness, the Heart of Prayer, uses a wonderful image to describe community living. He com-pares the old model of pre-Vatican corporate uniformity (Peck's formal-institutional) to sardines all lined up in a can--nice and orderly, but all dead. Real community, he says, is more like a school of fish swimming together gracefully'(Peck's mystical-com-munal). I think that we threw away the sardine can in the 1960s and then, liberated and full of life, all swam off in different direc-tions (Peck's skeptic-individual). How can we get back to swim-ming together gracefully in a school without destroying our creativity or drowning our witness in watered-down corporatism? There certainly are no easy answers, but we know deep down the hunger for such a life. Young people want community. Many of the people my age and younger are tired of the broken fami-lies, broken relationships, and lonely apartment living that have characterized our generation. The thousands of young people who flock to Taiz~ each year in postmodern, de-Christianized Europe must be telling us something. The human heart longs for communion, and the world denies the fulfillment of that longing to more and more people everyday. Many religious women and men are choosing to live alone and work .in their own ministries, often identifying themselves professionally with a group that is not their religious community. Review for Religious We have come to accept this reality as quite normal, but will it continue to attract young people to a life of public, gospel-cen-tered, and vowed living? Real community is an urgent need for us who long to channel our creative energies in healthy ways in a world that sees little value in the commitment of celibate living. Will we find that companionship if we come home to an answer-ing machine full of messages or a "com-munity" room full of brothers or sisters inert before the TV set like the pillars at Stonehenge? Could Acts 2:42-47 give us some hints as to where to continue journeying along the path? References there to the teaching of the apostles, the common life, the breaking of the bread, and prayer point to a community that spent a lot of quality time together. Today we have many meetings run with corporate efficiency, but do we really spend time together (sharing the day's stories during a leisurely evening meal, faith sharing, studying the day's or the week's liturgy texts together, recreating or even taking a day off together--away from the phone and TV-)? The early Christian community's life had a tremendous impact on the local people (2:43). Does ours? Have we ever considered a ministry in which the whole community works as a team (for example, a series of lay formation workshops, time each week in a soup kitchen, regular visits to the AIDS wing of a hospital), giving witness to the value of community through our example? The passage goes on (2:44-45) to the difficult point of sim-ple living and common sharing of goods. It is an area of great challenge for us today. We have adopted the "have credit card, will travel" mentality of mainstream America, some of which, per-haps,, is inevitable. But are we taking these steps with sufficient reflection and caution? Are we willing to defend the truth even when it may not be a popular stance among some of our generous benefactors? Do we tithe from our salaries and communal accounts?.Where does our province or religious congregation invest its money? Do those investments promote social, economic, and ecological justice? Are we content with generic brands of food Many of the people my age and younger are tired of the broken families, broken relationships, and lonely apartment living that have characterized our generation. ffanuaty-February 1997 Pierce ¯ The Vatican H Generation and Religious Life and a simple wardrobe? Do we have a common library, or do we all keep adding personal bookshelves? There are many questions to struggle with, but gospel witness is well worth the struggle. The last two verses of the passage (2:46-47) speak of enthu-siasm, joy, and simple sharing. We glimpse an early community that freely praised God while giving a clear witness to an alter-native, counterculrural way of living. Freedom to be for God and for others was their common ground. They risked martyrdom in order to keep giving their communal witness to the gospel. Theirs is not an easy act to follow, but it sure beats a sardine-can existence or lonely nights at Motel 6. Acompafiamiento, a Way of Walking with the Poor A great gift of Vatican II and these past thirty years has been the church's openness to continuing the dialogue with the world that the council's document on the church, Lumen gentium, high-lighted. The Latin American Church followed up with the prophetic stances taken during the Medellin and Puebla confer-ences of bishops (1968 and 1979). In the United States the pastoral letters on peace and economic justice have been lights .on the path of relating gospel faith to pertinent issues in our world today. We must not underestimate the steps that have been taken since Vatican II. Having said all this, I wish to comment on where I see a weak-ness in our post-Vatican II model of engagement with the world's poor. Not that what is being done is wrong or contrary to the gospel, but in many instances there is, I think, a need to move to a deeper level. Archbishop Oscar Romero, the martyred prophet of El Salvador, popularized during his years as archbishop the term acompa~amiento (accompaniment), a form of walking with the poor that is different from just working with the poor. Acompa~amiento is a way of living more than a way of doing (though, of course, this division in itself is dualistic). Several years ago I heard the noted liberation theologian Gustavo Guti~rrez say that we often reduce the option for the poor to going to the poor neighborhoods and barrios, to the social-service centers and the inner-city schools to work during the day, only to return to our comfortable homes and convents at night. To truly opt for the poor, Guti~rrez said, means to spend the nights withthem as well. In other words, we are called not only Review for Religiotts to do good things for the poor, but to be with them, to walk with them, to live with them, and, if necessary, to die with them. Romero's acompa~amiento could be translated as "sharing bread along the journey." It is different from giving bread to the poor; it is a sharing of life that dissolves the distances that separate us from them. To opt for the poor through acompa~amiento moves beyond all dualisms to make more real the concepts of global commu-nity and people of God. The hospice movement, Habitat for Humanity, L'Arche, and Christian base communities are expres-sions of this new way of being church and community. Each model portrays a community of equals, living and working together for a new world. There is very little corporate mentality present in them. This was the power of Archbishop Romero's witness--an erasing of the distances: the sheep and the shepherd together risk-ing their lives for the kingdom. How can our communities continue to make the transition to more of an acompa~amiento model over the traditional "charity" model (I do not favor the impoverishment of the word charity in contexts like this). I believe that, first of all, we have to set aside the obsession with efficiency and success that our world impresses upon us and complement our doing with an equal emphasis on being with. It is not an easy step. Rather than sending money, clothes, and food to the poor, can we pray, eat, study, recreate, and even live with them? The challenge is at the heart of the Catholic Worker Movement founded by Dorothy Day and Peter Maurin decades ago, and it is the call heralded by St. Paul when he proclaimed that our baptism erases all the divisions between persons, making possible a true community of equals (Ga 3:28). Finally, and perhaps this takes us back to the start, I believe that to truly love the poor as .sisters and brothers requires a con-templative (mystical) heart. To develop the capacity to stand in silence alongside the poo~r and accept the ambiguities of life is to grow into the mystical dimension of our faith. We really are not separate from "the others," but only a contemplative heart can begin to grasp the interconnectedness that holds us all together. If we grow in such contemplativeness, our being with becomes less a heroic act of giving life to .somebody in need and more a happy fulfilling of our potential as children of God: we are uninhibitedly glad of the opportunity to see the kingdom that .Jesus preached radiating from our simple act of "sharing bread along the journey." Januao,-FeblvlaO, 1997 Pierce * The Vatican H Generation and Religious Life I recently learned this lesson anew. A group of university stu-dents and I were scheduled to visit the inmates at the local prison. The students, among whom was Diana, a young crippled woman, met at our house, about ten blocks from the prison. I quietly asked if one of the students would go with her on the bus while the rest of us walked to the prison. Overhearing my request, Diana told me politely that she preferred to walk. I would not hear of it. Angry that no one offered to go with her on the bus, I decided to do it myself. By that point Diana, perceiving herself a burden to ¯ the group, had grabbed her crutches and begun walking home. When she finally had the courage to return to the group two months later, she told me I had made her feel terribly uncom-fortable that day. I had wanted to do something~r Diana. She simply wanted to be part of the group. I had seen her as a problem rather than as a person. Without a heart made flesh by prayerful silence and careful listening, we run the risk--as we go about doing good works to save the world of forgetting that we too are just part of this world already saved by God's love. To step back, to see and lis-ten to God speaking to us through poor people, is not always the quickest, most efficient way to bring about change in the world, but it is God's way. Stepping back, we discover anew each day that we are all part of one body--crippled, broken, healed, and set free. Community and Grace Thirty years after Vatican II, we all still have much to learn. The gospel is new each day and in every generation. However much progress we may have made since, the council, we need some self-critique as we continue the journey. Many people my age are not attracted to a church that differs little from the trap-pings of their everyday job, and the skeptic individualism in reli-gious life does not stand out as an exciting alternative. They can live that way and get paid a pretty good salary for it! Religious life' among the Vatican II generation must continue to offer some kind of critique of the dominant culture if it is to be viable for our times. Some cultural criticism, however, neglects important parts of Jesus' teaching. The post-Vatican II generation of Catholics is nov looking for more moralistic condemnations of modernity. They want a life with deep meaning, a simple life Review for Religious they can share with real people (and not just through their Internet modems!), a life that can help to make our world a bet-ter place without making themselves workaholic basket cases in the process. I believe it is still possible to swim gracefully through the waters of our times, guided not by the uniformity of the past nor the runaway individualism of the present, but by the Spirit of Jesus given to us and quietly moving in us with transforming new-ness and amazing grace. Awakening Golden leaves rustle and swirl Beneath the silver birch tree As sunlight from crisp blue skies Comes to rest on the forest floor. And nature poised on winter's brink Does not die but falls asleep Until it one bright spring morn Awakens to song of birds and brook. How like our lonely restless souls When in their final slumber lie Until aroused one glorious dawn By sweet sounds of an angel's horn. Eva Marie Ippolito Janua~y-Fd.-uaty 1997 F EDWARD VAN MERRIENBOER Of Those Who Leave Us: A Typology Tpe contemporary leader of a religious community is ected to be a person of prayer, with a vision, who can manage finance and who knows the legal aspects of public cor-porate life. Although few people ever fulfill all of these expecta-tions, most leaders do very well at some of them while in office. Many leadership tasks give one a sense of joyful accomplishment; of those that fail to do so, none is more painful, in my experi-ence, than participating in the departure of a member. I was a member of my province's council from 1973 to 1983 and then, until 1992, a member of our general council in Rome. In both the provincial and international contexts, the pain was ever present when a petition for dispensation came in. Impressed by the unique story that each of the many petitions revealed, I began to ask myself what I could learn from them personally and corporately about departure. During my nine years on our general council, I kept a brief list of people's reasons for leaving. My purpose was to learn from these experiences how to help those in leadership. I wanted espe-cially to help the men working in our initial formation programs so that they in turn could help our candidates avoid such painful experiences for themselves and their communities in the future. I share these reflections in that spirit. Edward van Merrienboer OP chairs the Department of Theology and Philosophy at Barry University. From 1983 to 1992 he was assistant gen-eral for the apostolic life of the Dominican order. He has written on reli-gious life, social justice, and spirituality. He can be addressed at Barry University; 11300 Northeast Second Avenue; Miami Shores, Florida 33161. Review for Religious Collating the many stories, I found that about eighty percent of those who left our community from 1983 to 1992 could be gathered into five groups, no matter what part of the world they lived in. My findings, of course, are not scientific conclusions of the sort one expects from an empirical study using a sociological method. Rather, they are reflections made after reading petition after petition regarding departure decisions that had been arrived at by individuals and/or the provincial leadership. I did not speak with the men petitioning for dispensation, nor did I interview their provincial leadership for additional data. My typology is based on what they and their provincial superiors wrote in the petitions. Typologies are models that seldom fit reality perfectly: there is always some overlap among the types. But still the general pat-terns proved helpful when I was making visits to our provinces. These types, from what I have learned from previous members of our general council, represent a change. During the time of Pope Paul VI, most members departed°to enter marriage. Today this is still a reason, but other reason~ have become more dominant. I have shared my findings with members of other general councils. They have found my insights to be valid in their communities and have encouraged me to share them more widely. What follows is a brief description of the five types of mem-bers seeking permission to leave and of the behaviors that led to their petition: the free agents, the must-have-its, the new founders, the loss-of-hopes, and the I'm-better-nows. The Free Agents Most free-agent petitions came from those who entered at the time of the Second Vaticah Council or within ten years after it. My religious community, like most religious communities of that time, was emerging from an era of strict legalism and con-formity. While we never had a fixed mold to force people into, informal ideas of what religious were supposed to be and to do defined almost every aspect of our lives. Perfection would be achieved by going through a "narrow gate," the perfect mechanism for making sure that, of the many called, few would be chosen. After the council, all the rules of our life were examined and revised. Now a wide embrace would replace the narrow way that was so well defined. Pluralism was encouraged in ministry and in 29 January-Feblwal.'~ 1997 Merrienboer * Of Those Who Leave Us local community life. Everyone was encouraged to participate in shaping our life and mission.For most of us this new freedom was a blessing because it allowed us to be ourselves and be faith-ful to our community at the same time. While limits were less defined, most religious knew that there were limits because of our vowed life. This was not the case with the members whom I am calling free agents. They enjoyed the new freedom and saw no limits. For some of them the freedom involved embracing works that were hard to locate within the mission of the institute or within the vowed life. Commonly they found ways to spend community funds while being little concerned about bringing in any money themselves or about the consequences of their expenditures on their community. Because finance is so concrete, much of the ten-sion between free agents and their community is about money. In extreme cases they establish private bank accounts or have funds that are not accountable to the community. Sizable funding is essential to them because it provides the means to express their freedom. Money provides the physical necessities they need to be free from the community's demand for responsible account-ability. Another area of conflict between free agents and their com-munity is their approach to relationships within and outside the community. Some of these relationships become exclusive com-mitments that involve genital expression. Self-direction in ministry becomes essential as part of their freedom agenda. Most are happy with the spirit of freedom that the council mandated; but, when "oppressive" superiors or members begin to challenge their lim-itless freedom, they became unhappy and start to question their vocation. They often say that they woul.d never have come to the point of seeking dispensation from their vows if it had not been for narrow-minded, or legalistic leaders. They do not see the problem of living a lifestyle that is contrary to their public commitment. Long and painful dialogues with their superiors do not enable them to see the points of conflict. Some express their anger at the community for trying to restrict the freedom given to them by the council. Many view the challenges coming to them from their community as statements of distrust. The decision to leave the community is a result of having to choose concretely between their agenda of freedom and certain Review for Relig~ous behaviors their community identifies as essential. It is tragic that often these members leave us without ever understanding that every life option imposes certain limits upon people, that in this regard religious life is no different than any other vocation. The Must-Have-Its Departing members of the second type seek dispensation within a very short time--usually three years or less--after their final profession or ordination. Judging from externals, one won-ders whether these members have really given religious life a fair chance. A common concern expressed by leadership is that these members may be acting in haste. The problems the mem-bers are experiencing could be rooted in the normal adjustment period from initial forma-tion to the wider life of the community. Because of the short time that these mem-bers have been in the community, unless there have been major difficulties previously, most religious superiors give only a very qualified support to their petitions for dispensation. This is understandable from an administrative per-spective, but I think there is an aspect of these members' personality that is perhaps being over-looked. It is this: They cannot come to a decision to leave the religious life or the priesthood until they actually possess these realities. Part of their personality demands that they prove to themselves that they can be a religious before they can decide that they do not want to be one. Some of this feeling is rooted in a need to be clear that they are rejecting the community and not being sent away. Very often I noted that, when during their initial formation they were asked as candidates to question their decision to be a religious, they responded by devoting themselves to becoming a better religious. Even when their simple vow period was extended so that they could look at their vocation, they never questioned their call to religious life. Some indicate that, almost from the day of their final pro-fession or ordination, they began to question if this was for them. They felt that before final profession they really .had not known While limits were less defined, most religious knew that there were limits because of our vowed life. Janua~y-Feb~vla~y 1997 Merrienboer ¯ Of Those Who Leave Us what it would be like; now they knew fully and were not happy. Others fully expected that after final commitment their experience of the life and ministry would change radically. It did not; in some ,cases it even became worse. They were given less attention and were expected to be fully contributing members of the commu-nity- which beEame a major source of frustration. Even in situations where a mentor was assigned to assist them in their adjustment to the postformation community life, there was little the community could do to change the attitude that, "now that I have what I set out to achieve, I noolonger want it." My reading of their autobiographies comes up with a pattern throughout their life of obtaining something, then setting it aside. Before entering the community, a high number of petitioners had obtained graduate degrees in unrelated fields and then never used this knowledge and experience. At the core of persons of this type is their inability to project their hopes into the future and make an assessment of their fitness for that vocation. Their experiences of initial formation do not enable them to make an educated guess about their ability to live religious life in the future. They only know what is present to them, and now that they have the life in its fullness they no longer want it for themselves. The New Founders Some people enter a religious community with the idea of reshaping it according to their own vision of religious life. Such an idea is in strange contrast to a community's centuries-long acceptance of its charism, but it is a fact that some people feel that their own image of religious life today takes priority over all that has come before it. One area into which such new-foundation efforts are brought is the community's mission. New founders would define this mis-sion as movement for social change or promotion of a different theological perspective. In countries where there has been a his-tory of repression in society, they see religious community as a resistance movement that offers its members prophetic opportu-nities. When the new founders promote involvement in social action, they become disappointed that not all the members feel called to participate. In more industrial countries the meaning of religious life, Review for Religious according to some new founders, is to protnote the women's movement or the gay movement. For others it is to become pro-tectors of traditional understandings of the faith. A common focal point for new founders is the community's liturgy. It becomes the platform for their view of religious life. Whether traditional or progressive, they see community prayer as a way to form the other members into a new identity. Most new founders are critical of programs for new members and of the actions of the community's leaders. They believe that, if their own vision of things prev~lils, the community will be refounded with new vitality. They blame the community's short-age of vocations on its resistance to their newcomers' vision of community renewal. The tone of their petitions for dispensation often indicates that they consider themselves to be ahead of or even better than most of the institute's members. They predict dire consequences for the community after their departure, Convinced that their own vision is important and urgent, they feel they must leave and find a place to implement it immedi-ately. Such refounding attitudes seem to stem from an assumption that the community is joining them on their journey, not that they are joining a group that already has a reasonably defined identity as it proceeds on its journey. In my experience, formation programs that encourage self-expression without enough regard for the community's corporate identity only encourage new founders in convictions that will prove problematic. The Loss-of-Hopes I have thus far described three types of departing members. I believe that the responsibility for their departure from religious life rests primarily with them and not the community. The com-munity has failed them in many ways, but the motivation of these individuals has been essentially flawed, often from their very early years in religious life. The fourth type of persons leaving reli-gious life today are different. Here the primary responsibility for the departure lies with the community, with its lack of faithfulness to its charism. These tragic petitions come from persons who have given their best effort to be faithful to the religious life and have not found much support from other members. Some have found it JanuaTy-Febtvtaty 1997 Merrienboer * Of Those Who Leave Us nearly impossible to find within their community a supportive environment for prayer and the vowed life. If they have shared their frustrations with other members, they often have received kind words but not active support. Sometimes this, alienation from the community has been caused by other members' general lack of interest in things spir-itual. These other members see themselves as professionals and have little feeling for the idea of a vocation. Considering the meaning of the vows to be very personal, they avoid discussing their own viewpoint with others for fear of seeming to impose it on them. I believe that the departure decisions of members of this type are rooted in their experience of hopelessness about the direc-tion in which the community seems to be moving. Often they feel that they do not even speak a common language about reli-gious life with the other members. They feel that the commu-nity has settled for the lowest common denominator for reasons of avoiding the tensions associated with serious conversion efforts. From my distant vantage point, there appear to be real signs of death in places where these departing members have been living their religious life; regrettably, suggestions to try another place are too late by the time the petition for dispensation reaches the major superior. It falls on leaders to learn from these tragic stories and to address the perceived failures as part of their leadeiship task. In my experience, it is almost impossible to restore hope to members who have become disillusioned; but leadership should make dis-tinct efforts to change situations in which, in the future, even more members would be likely to lose their hope. The I'm-Better-Nows Persons of the fifth and final type of men leaving religious life during my term of office were those who through most of their lives suffered from spiritual or emotional problems. Often their motive for entering religious life was the hope of having their problems resolved by the vowed life. Some of these problems were rooted in their early childhood experiences. Religiou~ life appeared to be a safe place to escape the pain of their family sit-uation. Their low self-esteem was a primary reason for entering community. Their hope, however, that religious life would con- Revie'a, for Religious fer a new value on them and make them better people had not been fulfilled. In some cases the reality of verbal or physical abuse made them fearful of any close relationship. They perceived the vow of chastity as protecting them from such trials, but as the years passed they experienced an inability to relate in a healthy manner with other members of the community. Their lives were marked by a crisis event, such as substance abuse, which made their superiors suggest or even require them to get professional help. Their petitions for depar-ture were often set in the context of the ther-apy in which their suffering was addressed. As they became spiritually and emotionally more integrated, their reasons for being a religious seemed to them less cogent. If they now were capable of healthy relationships, they wanted marriage or the freedom to find deeper mean-ing outside religious community. While it might seem strange, their main reason for wanting to leave community was that they were now happy and did not need the community anymore, Their needs for protection and status had been resolved in a positive manner. Most of these petitioners expressed gratitude to the community for their loving support through their many trials, and they knew true sorrow as they left. I have spoken with a number of healthcare givers about mem-bers of this type, and all have suggested that departure may be the best option for them. They also suggest that religious should examine within their communities the dynamics that allow peo-ple to hide from their problems until they reach the crisis stage. One healthcare professional once told me he thought that reli-gious practice "false mercy" in not addressing the problems of disturbed members until there is a major crisis. As they became spiritually and emotionally more integrated, their reasons for being a religious seemed to them less cogent. Reflections for the Future No matter how perfect our formation programs become, there will always be some members who make the decision to leave us after many years of association. This is to acknowledge frankly Janttaty-Febtvtat3, 1997 Merrienboer * Of Those Who Leave Us the human dimension of religious life, but we can learn from our experiences. It is for the sake of such learning that I have shared my insights as a general-council member who has returned to his province and seen these patterns continuing in religious com-munities. Can we learn from those who have left us? Can we speak hon-estly with our present members when we see behaviors that have led others to leave us? I believe that, if we have the courage to say yes to these two questions, the pain of occasionally having some members choose to leave us and our life together would be much more bearable. In the Temple Year followed year the two had come to this place, old man, old woman, wearing persistence like a skin. Here, perhaps, familiar shadows sharpened the eye's observance. What ¯ better place to find the light, and by it be found, than in the dark? Leonard Cochran OP Review for Religious HILARY OTTENSMEYER Four Seasons for Christian Group Sharing From time to time a gathering of like-minded Christians-- whether it be a spiritual-direction group, an Emmaus group, a Bible-sharing group, or a prayer group--expresses a desire to "go deeper." This desire, perhaps only vaguely defined, generally means that the members want to be more self-revealing, more honest in discussing areas of faith, doubts about the church, glossed-over conflicts within the group, and fears that the meetings have become perfunctory, even boring. In such a case the introduction of some simple group dynamic into the meetings may allow the group to reach a new and more comfortable, if challenging, level of sharing. A dynamic based on the four seasons seems well suited to that task.~ The first time the dynamic is used, an outside facilita-tor can be helpful, one whom the group has chosen for being able and trustworthy. Later, on its own, the group could well devote at least one session to each of the seasons. Nature's seasons are an experience with which we are all familiar. The seasons can function for a group in poetic, dynamic ways, that is, ways in which the clearest and most labored prose cannot. Such metaphors break through the limits of human speech and help us become aware of thoughts and feelings that are otherwise inaccessible. The "I am" statements of John's Gospel demonstrate this beau-tifully. Each believer brings a different set of meanings Hilary Ottensmeyer OSB wrote "The Problem with Problems" for our September-October 1995 issue. His address remains 1414 Southern Avenue; Beech Grove, Indiana 46107. Ottensmeyer ¯ Four Seasons for Christian Group Sharing on hearing Jesus describe himself as the Good Shepherd or the Bread of Life. The seasons function in a similarly evocative way. People instinctively realize that we grow only when we hon-estly share the burdens and problems of our minds and hearts. Time and again we witness this in the pages of the Gospels. The healed leper, the demoniac rescued from among the tombs, the blind Bartimaeus lifted from his roadside isolation, the breath-less disciples returning to Jerusalem from the road to Emmaus, all these Jesus restores to community where they can pour out their hearts in sharing their "stories." Some Cautions Sharing in a group must be neither .intrusive nor abusive. Certain agreed-upon boundaries need to be set to protect the sanctuary of the individual conscience and the dignity of personal free will. There can be no forced entry into the heart. Even God will not force that door, but, like a true lover, quietly tells us, ,Listen! I am standing at the door, knocking; if you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to you and eat with you, and you with me" (Rv 3:20). The ultimate dream: table companionship with God! As a minimum, the following rules apply: 1. Members should make only."I" statements, never "you" statements, that is, "I think." and not "You are . " We cannot know the full reality of other people's minds and hearts until we ask them from a respectful distance. 2. Anyone should feel free to call a halt at any time to a line of inquiry directed towards herself or himself: "I'd really rather not discuss that at this time." This allows group members to claim the reverence which is their due. 3. Members should accept responsibility for the unfolding of their lives, avoiding the chronic "victim mentality" that is pervasive in our culture. Blaming others or "life" is most often an evasion.~ As one friend expresses' it, there are four doors into the neurotic. Each door is a belief in one of the following statements: (1) I can make you happy; (2) I can make you sad; (3) you can make me happy; (4) you can make me sad. Reluctant though we are to acknowledge it, each one of us is responsible for his or her own life. Only catastro-phes that overwhelm us exempt us from facing this honestly. 4. We help each other through honest and clear feedback, painful though that may sometimes be. Simple feedback, that Review for Religious is, a brief statement about how another's thoughts or actions come up in one's own life, proves most helpful: "When I am drawn to act that way, I find ."Advice giving is to be care-fully avoided. Other cautions come to mind, but these seem basic. We do not have a direct perception of ourselves. So burdened are our thought processes, so fixed into routine are our actions, that we need the kind mirror of another's perceptions held up before us. We seem at times so suffocated by our prejudices, by our closely guarded denials and chosen ignorances, that we experience a real joy when someone gently opens the window to let in the fresh air of new ideas and new possibilities. Indeed, our deepest prej-udices are those we hold against ourselves. This is the saddest discovery of all. What a joy when someone helps us stand up and claim our own worth! Fall: Season of Fruition Easing into the sharing process is most gently done by choos-ing as a beginning the symbol of fall. Most mellow of seasons, fall is the time of harvest, when good things are gathered up and fes-tivals begin. The rewards of hard work and steady determination lie before us. We have a need to celebrate at this time of year. At this point, what are the fruits of the group's loyalties? There are stored memories of joy shared, of times when a mem-ber has been lifted up and celebrated. The group has had insights that can be recalled, times when it realized that Jesus was there in their midst and hearts burned with awareness of his presence. The Lord was walking with the group as it went along the way. Ours is a faith community devoted to the joys of remembrance, as every Eucharist proclaims. One way of beginning: Inventory the gifts each individual brings to the group. What do I bring to the group which, because of my background, education, talents, and so forth, constitutes a special gift? Follow this by a question put to the entire group: What do we think this one member contributes that is most enriching? Move on then to a consideration of how the group has changed over time, pointing out new levels of support and understanding. Where has a sense of continuity been discerned? What new and unexpected biessings have been slowly revealed in each individual? ffanuao,-Febrttaty 1997 Ottensmeyer ¯ Four Seasons for Christian Group Sharing An important benefit of a sharing group is the contact that members have between sessions. We all struggle to keep alive a "circle of friends." A support group affords an excellent opportu-nity to widen that circle beyond relatives and school-day chums. Do the members of the group reach out to each other between meet-ings? Has acquiring and sustaining friends--those essential inter-personal skills--been nurtured by the activities of the support group? What new skills have been acquired? "If you want a friend, be a friend" is a truth that needs to be lived out day by day. Living in community is of itself no assurance of having friends, but only company. Have I worked at being a friend to members of the group? Winter: Season of Perseverance Winter is the season of hoping and of endurance. For most of us in these northern climes, except for the occasional bright win-ter day, the skies are covered and a chill hangs over the land. Winds bite. Snow and ice impede travel. One has to draw on deep inner resources of strength, and hold on to memories of warmer days. There are winter seasons for a support group, too. These times have to be confronted and admitted. There is a time for breaking open the soil before spring planting. We are reluctant to put a hand to this kind of work, but it is the necessary condition for future growth. A "winter" discussion is the most difficult kind the group will have, and requires patience and loyalty. Questions needing examination fall easily into three cate-gories: 1. Where have we silently established "off limits" areas of discussion: subtly agreed-upon restrictions and withhold-ings? When and how does sharing break down in the group? What expectations did we bring when we joined the group, and how have these been disappointed because of these unspoken conventions? Was I honest with my hopes when I joined? Certainly, every group has the right to mark the boundaries of its sharing. But were these boundaries hon-estly agreed on when the group was formed? Were we too idealistic, too superficial, or too demanding? Were there angers in the group that were glossed over? ¯ 2. What does the group need to work on with determina-tion, for example, admitting and establishing boundaries, facing avoidances; or surfacing denials? Review for Religious 3. Very importantly, what healings need to take place? Does any member feel wounded or rejected in any way? How would this healing best come about? One makes a wonderful discovery in crossing this difficult winter terrain. Secrets can poison people's lives. When we have the courage and trust needed to reveal those tender areas of the heart, we find that others too have suffered in the same way. Walls crum-ble. The Jesus who draws us together out of our loneliness and fears is there, in the eyes and voices of others, to strengthen the fragile bonds that hold together a faith community. Spring: Season of Hope Renewed We all love spring with its beginnings of new life, with early crocuses, hyacinths, and tulips. Winter seems sometimes to linger stubbornly, but spring finally triumphs and spirits soar. Melting snows turn into sparkling rivulets. Sap rises in the trees, and ten-der greens appear along the limbs of trees. A support group too brings forward its hopes for renewal, for new life. It is helpful to go back and test the roots for their vital-ity. This can be done when the members share where their indi-vidual faith stories began. People are always eager to tell their stories. The vast professional therapeutic industry has risen because people are hungry to recount their stories. If the listen-ers are skilled, they can help the storyteller understand better the meaning of the tale. Within the faith story, certain elements are important. Who taught you to pray? Who were your role mod-els of faith? What were some of the significant moments on your faith journey? What was your image of God in childhood years, and how has it evolved over the years? How do you pray at this time in your life? What more do you wish for in your relationship with God? What is your answer when Jesus asks, "What do you want meto do for you?" (Mk 10:51). Not only do roots need to be inspected, but growth too needs to be looked for. What hungers are you aware of in your faith today? How could this support group help you? What aspects of your faith do you want to bring into the lives of those you love or those with whom you work? I have noticed that groups experience a surge of interest when "spring" sessions take place. A renewed commitment, a deeper investment is made in the group, and mem-bers reach a deeper trust level very easily. Januao,-FebrttaO, 1997 Ottensmeyer ¯ Four Seasons for Christian Group Sharing Summer: Season of Sustained Growth The summer months fill us with a sense of achievement. The harsh days of winter are over. The stimulating work of spring has been accomplished. Now is the time to relax and enjoy the warm days and long, quiet evenings. In fields and in flower beds around the house, buds are gathering to maturity; grains are swelling in the fields and fruits filling out to ripeness in the orchards. This is the season of contentment, when gentle rains come to nature's aid. Now people have time for visits, vacations, and concerts in the park. Indeed, the "lazy, hazy days of summer" clothe us like a comfortable garment, and we are grateful. Groups, too, can benefit from at least one "summer" session, counting the blessings the members have seen coming to fruition among themselves. What was the heritage the individual members received from their mother and father? Looking back on the ten-der years of childhood, each person recognizes a "gift" from his or her parents, a "breath of life" that only parents could breathe into the heart of a child. Influenced deeply by our family roots, we make decisions about our place, our possibilities, in the world. What was the special legacy, outlook on life, stance before the future that the members received-from their mother and father? And how has this gift been nurtured and cherished? How did the hands of your father and mother feel at your back as they sup-ported your first steps and as you still, to this da~,, feel their hands steadying your walk through life? Or, and this too must be faced, did their hands grasp you and hold you back? When did you first feel the hand of God at your back, reach-ing with help and love into your life? Perhaps you experienced God as a hand drawing you forward through difficult days and years, pointing the way prophetically towards promise. Which times were times of contentment, when your journey reached a plateau and you rested quietly for a while? Seasoned Years Our lives seem to take the shape of repeated cycles. The pri-mordial journey of Abraham comes to mind here. A call comes to move forward when we are asked to entrust our future to God in faith. Then follows a transition period presenting obstacles to overcome, anxieties and failures to accept, flesh commitments courageously to be made to our beckoning God. Finally comes a Review for Religious sense of arrival, a time to rest and gather strength for the next call, time to sing a canticle of gratitude. Such a pattern applies to a support group. How has the group experienced these calls, these trials, and these periods of rest? Does the group know how to celebrate its members, choosing activities that will express its joy? One priest group I know takes a three-day trip each summer. All eight pile into a rented van, set out for a not-too-distant point of interest, and simply enjoy them-selves. They are gathering shared happy experiences to live on through the months to come. Nothing has been said on the impor-tant topics of how a group is set up, how members select themselves into a group (or are allowed to join it), and how an individual might bring closure when leav-ing. Indeed, perhaps the group decides it no longer serves its original purposes and goes out of existence. No mention has been made of how a group defines its orig-inal goals or modifies them. Without that vital process, the prospects for a successful investment of time and energy are rather dim. These are all con-siderations for another article, one that indeed has been written many times and was not our purpose here. Group renewal is our purpose. Every group, no matter how well put together at its inception or how generous and serious the will of its members, needs to be renewed in its commitment from time to time. The four seasons of the year can help in that necessary task. When did you first feel the hand of God at your back, reaching with help and love into your life? Note ~ The seminal idea for this article was suggested to me by Donna Fyffe; CommunityWorks; 101 West Ohio Street, Suite 1776; Indianapolis, Indiana 46204. Januar),-FebJvlat3, 1997 PAUL DUCKRO, MARJORIE KUKOR, AND JEAN MEIER Inner Work with Your Anger Anger is an emotion much maligned. It is often referred to as a "negative" emotion. Many persons are not comfort-able feeling anger and seek to suppress it in the interest of har-mony and accommodation. Paradoxically, by such efforts people increase their likelihood of expressing anger dysfunctionally. When people suppress anger, or even repress it, it does not disappear; it is left to work its way indirectly, like a force under-ground. It may express itself in very rationalized statements, rec-ognized only in the impossible and recurring problems that follow in their wake. There may be episodic outbursts of anger followed by gre~t anxiety and remorse, forming a cycle of conflict. Other persons may use anger much more overtly, as a domi-nating force. In them anger is a trademark, emerging frequently with few inhibitions. It may even become crystallized in ways of viewing the world--as evil, inconvenient, incompetent, and so forth. Either extreme--expressing anger frequently or habitually suppressing it--may lead to the development of a clinically sig-nificant syndrome for which professional therapy is indicated. Along with such destructive potential, anger has many posi-tive aspects that we shall point out. Moreover, there are proactive ways to deal constructively with deleterious anger in everyday life. Behavioral therapies have been demonstrated to be very effec- Paul Duckro PhD, Dr. Marjorie Kukor, and Jean Meier CSJ, PsyD, can be written to at St. Louis Behavioral Institute; 1129 Macldind Avenue; St. Louis, Missouri 63110. Review for Religious tive. For example, cognitive behavior therapy is effective in cases of uncontrolled anger, suppressed anger, simmering resentment, or cycles of angry outburst and fearful restraint. Typically it com-bines development of new skills, modification of dysfunctional beliefs, and exploration of past experiences that have shaped a person's thoughts and behaviors. More experiential approaches are effective too. In clinical practice these have been shown to improve the recognition, acknowledgment, and expression of anger, whether or not there is the opportunity to work through the anger interpersonally. Experiential therapies take many forms. Art, movement, and fan-tasy are common ways to explore and express anger. Painting and sculpturing are evocative media through which the source of someone's anger can be revealed. Color and form can often rep-resent anger that lies too deep for words. This therapy has long been used with children, but it is no less effective with adults who feel trapped in their own anger. Exercise and movement can express and diffuse angry feelings. Emotional energy is "con-verted" into physical energy rather than being "trapped" in psy-chological or physical symptoms. Fantasy allows people to express and then explore their powerful emotions in a safe way, even toward absent or deceased persons or toward the unseen God. The persons "work through" angry feelings, moving toward a new level of integration and wholeness. Experiential therapies are important when the anger is not even recognized, much less processed, as emotion. It is not unusual for anger to be experienced and expressed--and masked-- in intellectualized forms such as opinions and logical judgments. In such cases, working in a tactually receptive form of experien-tial therapy can release emotions otherwise effectively disguised as thoughts and verbalizations. For persons of faith, contemplative or meditational encounter with the anger has great potential, linking the psychological and spiritual aspects of healing. It is on this approach to anger man-agement that we focus here. For our purposes we will refer to it as inner work. Inner work is the interior correspondent of con, flict resolution. The essence of both is movement, as opposed to remaining stuck in resentment, bitterness, or cynicism. From the exterior perspective, the time given to inner work appears to be "doing nothing." In fact, this doing nothing is true only superficially. Inner work is an active and engaging process of Janua~y-Feb~'ualy 1997 Duckro, Kukor, and Meier ¯ Inner Work with Your Anger coming to terms with both the immediate stimulus for the anger and its deeper sources within. Synergistic with the more obvious activity of conflict resolution, engaging in inner work may provide the time needed for cooling off. Beyond such a practical benefit, this doing nothing is also the space in which one can reflect and make associations and thus prepare to move forward in relation-ships. It helps individuals to insure that they are not pinning their own issues onto someone else or substituting one-sided judgment for dialogue. Stages of Inner Work Inner work with anger involves several stages. The first appears so simple that it is often overlooked: the recognition that you are angry. This step requires regular self-examination, knowl-edge of the ways you may experience anger physically and psy-chologically, and alertness to how you customarily try to mask your anger. That regular self-examination is necessary only restates the obvious: if one does not look, one will not see. Knowing the variety of ways that people experience anger increases the odds that you will recognize it. Anger is, of course, an emotion that people experience directly, but it can also be uncovered in behaviors, thoughts, verbalizations, and bodily reac-tions. Individuals will have characteristic ways in which their anger is masked, expressed indirectly, or expressed passively. Becoming aware of these patterns of human response, you will more likely recognize your own anger under such guises as logi-cal argument, social withdrawal, passive resistance, depressed mood, and spiritualization. If you do not recognize your anger, it cannot be channeled or transformed. Anger that is not experienced or expressed directly is not easily unmasked. Gruff exteriors can hide from the indi-viduals themselves an anger that is obvious to everyone else; so can a smile, and so can solicitousness. For you to relate to such a "shy" anger within yourself may be compared to relating to some-one who is reluctant to come forward. The unmasking must not be done forcefully, or hurtfully. Imagineextending your hand to the anger within, with reassurance that there is no need to hide. In this invitation the anger is reassured that it is seen as a legiti-mate emotion with a reason for being which is important for you to understand. Review fi~r Religious The simple power of recognizing your anger (we might call it awareness) lies in the fact that merely paying it attention changes the anger at once. This phenomenon, the power of simple obser-vation to transform what it observes, is well recognized, not only in behavioral but even in physical science. It can be found in var-ious forms also in our spiritual tradition. From earlier teachers we know the concept that to hold the true name of anything or any-one is to have power over it. We learn that the desert fathers and mothers taught their spiritual children first to name their demons.St. Teresa of Avila taught us that, if anything is embraced in love, it already begins to be transformed. To be true to this way of proceeding, we must remind ourselves that the power does not lie in trying to manipulate or control the anger. In each case, as in the example of dealing with "shy" anger, there is an encounter with the anger. Encounter implies relationship, interaction, and the potential for mutual change: the anger also has something to say. The second stage of inner work with anger may be described as bringing the anger inside yourself. Unpacking that metaphor is not easy; not all of its meaning will be captured in any one exposition. It is already evident that the first and second stages are diametrically opposed to what is often a reflexive response to strong, unwanted anger--trying to get rid of it. We turn to a familiar fairy tale to shed more light on the power of bringing the anger inside. Recall the story of "The Three Little Pigs." Imagine being one of the little pigs barricaded in the last house, the one made of brick. Anger at first may seem like,the big bad wolf howling menacingly outside the door. You shake within, behind the barred door and locked windows. To be exposed to such a monster would be certain death. If matters continue in this way, there can be no happy end-ing-- at best there is stalemate. You know the pigs' solution, and in a way it is related to what we will suggest. But let us modify it in the interest of love and mutual growth. In a feat reserved for imagery, imagine yourself inviting that wolf in. Already, simply to enter the house, the big wolf must become small, at least small Inner work is an active and engaging process of coming to terms with both the immediate stimulus for the anger and its deeper sources within. JanuaJ3,-FebJvtal3, 1997 D_.~ckro~ Kukor~ and Meier * Inner Work with Your Anger enough to fit through the very same door which you use. From that time the wolf already becomes more your equal; the bad wolf becomes your guest. Your fear calms down to prudent caution. Anger, upon being brought inside, begins the dialogue, furthers mutual understanding, and allows you to listen to the message-- which apparently some part of you thought was important enough to arouse such a furor. The third stage consists of continuing your association with the anger. This is the dialogue, and the very heart of inner work with anger. Although associating with your anger must of neces-sity be a free-flowing process, with content unique to yourself, it is useful to consider the general material you might encounter. The material of association might be divided into old and current issues. Old issues are the recurrent themes that come up again and again in anyone's life. Much of the message of any intense "negative" emotion has to do with these recurring themes. A popular way of conceptualizing this idea has been called the 90/10 rule. It suggests that, in understanding the message of strong feeling, very little (10 percent) has to do with what seems to be obvious, the matter on which you are focused. The greater part (90 percent) arises from old issues that have been reawak-ened by the current circumstances. Imagine a detonator: a small and harmless charge sets off a much larger and destructive explo-sion, a cache of dynamite for example. Obviously, the great positive potential in associating with the anger is in learning to listen for the old issues which come up in the process. These old issues influence your perception as perva-sively as a pair of colored glasses affects your view of the world around. They color your interpretations and lead to a type of conditioned reality. You actually see what you expect to see. Unrecognized old issues lead to compulsive or addictive cycles of behavior. You perceive each new situation through lenses that transform it into an old familiar one. In turn, you bring up and apply old familiar responses to these new situations. Outcomes become more and more predictable. Imagine a traveling theater troupe picking up extra actors in each town. The players are dif-ferent, but the plots are always the same. With anger, bitterness, or resentment, there is a kind of cold comfort in having been right about the advent of unpleasant realities (while you conve-niently forget that often it is you who make them unpleasant). Such victories are P))rrhic, Finding the results familiar becomes Review for Religious for you (however unconsciously) more desirable than finding--or trying to make--the current reality pleasant. The rigid shape of such compulsive behavior is evident. To emphasize the importance of old issues is not to say that current issues are unimportant. On the contrary, as you recog-nize the anger, calm the anxiety, and listen for old issues, the cur-rent issues become more distinguishable and more manageable. The solutions that present themselves are likely to be effective for being rooted in your actual current situation instead of being autonomous repetitions of previous experiences. When you see current issues clearly, you under-stand them in terms of relationship rather than as someone else's problem affecting you. You see a problem as relational, a matter between or among the several concerned parties rather than in one or another person. Common sources of anger in the present include threats to self-esteem, feeling vulnerable, being cheated, receiv~ ing dishonest or indirect communication. When these problems are freed from the heavy bag-gage of the old, recurring themes, their substance remains but they become much lighter to carry. Consider, for example, a threat to self-esteem. A colleague is given attention for her successes. It seems to you that some of her ideas carrie from' conversations in which you played a part. There is resentment that she is in the spotlight and fear that no one will look to you for ideas in the future. The most power-ful factors in your emotional response to the situation lie in your previous experiences. If you have felt unappreciated, if you have been afraid to speak before others, if you have learned to feel that others do not take you seriously, if you have learned to deeply doubt your own value or your ability to succeed, you will feel burning anger at your dubiously accurate perception of a threat to your livelihood and reputation. If you are not good at pro-cessing and expressing anger, you will carry it as a tortuous con-flict within you, eating at body and mind, blocking the flow of spirit. On the other hand, if you can recognize the old issues for what they are, can avoid disparaging yourself for holding them, and then begin dealing with them directly, you will find within The great positive potential in associating with the anger is in learning to listen for the old issues which come up in the process. dO dTtttltta13,-Febrtttlty 1997 Duckro, Kukor, and Meier ¯ Inner Work with Your Anger yourself the energy for doing so. You will assess more clearly how serious the immediate threat is. From that assessment you can gauge the strength of the confrontation and discussion you must have with your colleague. If you are not.skilled at assertive expres-sion, you may determine a course of action to improve such skills. The problem is resolvable. The actual method of associating with your anger requires some elaboration. An essential component is to calm yourself down. The failure to calm down, especially to calm down your cognitive activity, heightens the risk of repeating a version of the old issues that tend to inflate your angry response. Physiological calming facilitates cognitive calming, and both allow the pro-duction of fresh associations. It is important to distinguish this type of calming from sup-pressing the anger or avoiding the current issues. The idea is not to become suddenly and inexplicably blissful. The aim is simply to be present to the anger--bringing it in, seeing it for what it is, and sorting out the old issues that are inflaming it. The most effective way to calm down is simply to become aware of your breathing and then to breathe gradually more slowly and deeply, and from the diaphragm. No particular rate or pro-portion of breathing is necessary, but it is often helpful to allow each exhalation to proceed slowly, like a slow leak from a tire. With each long exhalation your heart rate will be slower, and you will feel more and more relaxed. Let yourself move as necessary to remain physically comfortable, and do not be afraid to take a big ungainly breath if you get out of rhythm; just come back to the slow, diaphragmatic breathing as soon as possible thereafter. The overall goal is a sense of effortlessness in the breathing, letting the tension and the struggle to control melt away, but feeling all the sensations of the body with even greater awareness. Focus then on the parts of the body that seem most active. You will find in these places the physical correlates of your anger, As you interact in this way with your physical sensations, move to the emotion underlying them. Remaining relaxed, let yourself feel the anger more fully, either directly as emotion or in its phys-ical manifestations. Now that it is allowed to enter within your relaxed self, it will no longer be overpowering as you contemplate it. Call it by name with your inner voice, softly and repeatedly. As you do so, remain calmly aware and allow your mind to produce the next thought, feeling, image, or memory. Accept that next Review for Religious association without judgment, and then focus on it. Continue the process in just this way until you reach an association that seems new and striking a.nd that requires more time. Stay with it for a 16nger time, just holding it in mind. Other thoughts and feelings will weave themselves around it. If you find yourself excessively dis-tracted, try writing.down your thoughts, feelings, or sensations, associating further with each one as you write. In this process of free association, you are opening doors within you. Areas which have been blocked off by shame or will-fulness may become accessible. Some of these areas may be unpleasant, exposing feelings that are painful. These you must bring to spiritual direction, prayer, intimate friends, or psy-chotherapy for support in working through them to new life. In the course of such work, you move toward oneness within; this is the essence of the integrity you seek. You see yourself more hon-estly and clearly, and you see also what is being touched within you. What you must do becomes more clear. The last stage is taking the anger to relationships.° Although our focus in this essay has been on inner work, this inner work leads to interpersonal interaction. It is in the movement from intrapersonal exploration to the interpersonal resolution of anger that we avoid individualism and act for justice and peace in our personal worlds. These personal worlds, in any particular life or set of circumstances, may range from the grand scale of interna-tional diplomacy to the intimate relationship of two persons. This inner work, then, is not an alternative to external work, but is the basis from which to move toward others. In inner work we take time to explore thoroughly .the nature of our own anger, with-holding action until we have taken the beam from our own eye. Upon so doing, when we do act we are much less likely to return evil for evil. We are more likely to be able to collaborate with God in turning all things to the good, for ourselves and others. Relational Responses In discussing this stage in which we take the anger to rela-tionship, it is useful to highlight the basic choices with which we are faced. Our choices determine whether and how much our response will further a relationship. In coming to terms with any strong "negative" emotion, we are faced with such choices, lead-ing to greater or lesser connection with others. Januaty-Febtvlaty 1997 Duckro, Kukor, and Meier ¯ Inner Work with Your Anger The mutuality required for integration rests ultimately on dialogue, people expressing their own feelings and desires and listening to one another. Y2 At its worst, anger polarizes. The participants separate into factions whose interests seem mutually opposed. Anger so expe-rienced leads to stronger or longer-lasting feelings of hatred and resentment, and to behaviors aimed at the injury or destruction bf the other parties. We easily see such hot or cold wars on the broad and somewhat anonymous levels of local, national, and interna-tional politics; they occur just as often, however, on the smaller stages of our personal and professional lives. Somewhat more benign, but still only minimally relational, is what we might call parallel play. In this live-and-let-live stance, there is no intention to hurt the other parties, but neither is there much sense of the common or universal good, and there is no intimate interaction. Farther along the continuum, we can indicate a point of compromise. This term is unfortunately not held in high esteem. What some people see as a reasonable compromise, many others see as "giving in," collaborating with evil; in fact, they see the compromiser as "compromised"-- or, at best, wishy-washy. However, com-promise (literally: putting forth, together) can be actually a high-level response with the potential for build-ing a better relationship out of previous anger and conflict. The partners in conflict become sensitive to each other's agendas and to opportunities for their mutual benefit in a common good. The arrangement might be unsteady, but continued dialogue in this spirit leads to change, however slow it might seem to those who prefer war, personal or otherwise, as a means of change. On any given day, compromise may be all the relationality we can muster. Nevertheless, its regular practice can move us along toward the point of integration. It is in the honest integra-tion of apparent opposites that we most fully participate in ongo-ing creation. Both compromise and integration must be and remain, opposed to syncretism, in which each side is reduced to being a lesser entity than it was. Integration requires the full pres-ence of both parties, each maintaining--and even realizing more fully--its own identity, but also coming together to form, from an Review Jbr Religious appreciation of their essential unifies and commonalities of inter-est, a new whole never before experienced. To accomplish such a union requires freshness of experience: two persons seeing each other as if for the first time. Obviously, the ideal is challenging and not easily reached. It is best to consider it a process that incor-porates the letting-go of egoism, that sense of self which empha-sizes self-protection and personal rights at the expense of openness and intimacy. It is analogous to the process of inculturation in evangelization presented by Pope John Paul II and articulated eloquently in the documents of General Congregation 34 of the Society of Jesus. The mutuality required for integration rests ulti-mately on dialogue, people expressing their own feelings and desires and listening to one another. Words are a poor medium to express such matters, but they are often the best means we have. In love, they are enough. At this level of relationship, anger has been transformed. It is now not merely a difficult emotion to be managed, but an impetus to new creation. Of such dialogue--two or more persons allowing their center of focus to be between or among themselves rather than within any one of them--it may truly be said that the reign of God is there. Forgiveness and reconciliation are experienced in a fresh way. Old hurts are not forgotten, but now are embodied in the new whole. They are used to create a new way of understanding which, rather than suppressing them, coopts them for the good. Taking care of oneself is redefined, as self has been redefined, beyond the limits of the corporeal body and one's personal psy-chological history. The well-being of any other person comes grad-ually to be seen as vitally important to one's own self. The Contemplative Stance This coming together in integration is certainly not without much pain and difficulty. More often than not, it seems that the creation of a new whole from disparate positions is impossible. Nevertheless, it is this apparent impossibility that in fact calls us to a new something. There is a tradition, among shamans of so-called primitive religions, that iust such apparently impossible situations signal, often in a sacred dream, the opportunity to advance to a new level of spiritual understanding. In our Christian tradition we may understand this new creation as furthering cor-poral realization of the mystical body of Christ. .~mlttaly-Febrttal3, 1997 Duckro, Kukor, and Meier o" Inner Work with Your Anger A contemplative stance in life facilitates the recognition and acceptance of opportunities' for integration as we work through strong feelings of anger. Such a contemplative stance does not imply or require a cloistered vocation; it is simply a willingness to become ever more aware of what is happening within us and around us. It is furthered by the practice of certain disciplines such as frequent self-examination, centering prayer, and medita-tive relaxation. An image passed on by Suzanne Zuercher OSB expresses the nature of being contemplative very well. Imagine holding a bird in your cupped hands. Hold it too tightly and the bird will be crushed; too loosely and the bird flies away. So it is to be present to ourselves and others. In such contemplation God, divine Mystery, is found truly in all things. All the events of life, without exception, are material for the spiritual journey. There is no need to avoid or suppress dis-tractions or strong emotions; there is only the call to work with them honestly. An ideal, of course, is a distant marker. As with ship and lighthouse, we hope not so much to find ourselves there as to be guided by its light. In the end the stuff of our growth is not found in our perfection, but in our flaws. Stumbling blocks become stepping stones, fissures become our footholds. Honest reflecting on the disruptive emotions that rise unbidden in us, and on our failures in handling them for the good, keep us rooted humbly in the truth of our lives. This truth, however unlovely it may seem, is the sure and only foundation for realizing the power of God working in us, From there we move closer to joy and compassion, holy indiffer-ence and equanimity, and become people for others. We find love. Review for Religious DENISE M. CALLAGHAN On Letting Go l~aan still see you sitting across the room from me, the light of e lamp highlighting your silver hair, your blue eyes still filled with life. You talked of how they were "putting you out," try-ing to get you to come to the motherhouse infirmary. And the best reason they could give you? They were worried about you because you seemed to be forgetful. You were not buying that, you told me. You kept insisting that you knew what you were doing, that you were not forgetful or careless about little matters of safety. I tried to suggest that there could be episodes you were not aware of. If you had been aware, there would be no prob-lem- but not being aware that you were not aware could be seri-ous. I was not just playing with words. I tried to give you examples. I tried to ease your dread of being uprooted. I hope I helped just a little, anyway. I thought of you often after you left. I found myself praying that you would be able to let go. So much of life is a matter of let-ting go. None of us does it lightly or easily. We are clingers by nature, I think. Even as infants we fasten our fingers around lit-tle baubles and hold on with surprising strength. Paul talks about that in some of his Epistles. "When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child . . ." (1 Co 13:11). I think (can we really remember it all now?) that it was not always easy to put aside the things of the child and become the responsible adult. Somehow, however awk-wardly, we did it. Sometimes it is not all pain--if the letting go of the old, famil-iar some thing, or some place, or some one means the reaching out Denise M. Callaghan SSND writes to us from 6401 North Charles Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21212. 1997 Callagban ¯ On Letting Go What a beautiful gift we offer one another when we truly listen! Y6 to some one new, or some place new, or some thing new that sat-isfies and delights us. But there are those letting go's that are just that: all pain. There is no exchange; there is an emptying out, a hollowing out, a hurt, a loneliness, a void. Some of us literally break under the strain of it. Some of us do not break, but we become bitter and withdrawn. Some of us bluff our way through or somehow just bury the ache. Some of us, quietly and with great wisdom, simply let go--and then go on. What a great grace! No matter who we are, no matter how well we do what we do, we will all need from time to time to be able to let go: ¯ the older for the younger, ¯ the familiar for the new and the different, ¯ the surety of the tried and the true for the promise of the untried and the possible, ¯ the mellowed for the freshly cured, ¯ the wisdom of experience for the vision and the dream of the not-yet-chanced. It cannot be done lightly, nor should it be. Wisdom cautions weighing and measuring, reflectively letting go, effectively hold-ing on. We need to pray that the Spirit of wis-dom will inform us. We need to be attentive listeners to the movement of the Spirit in our own hearts and to trust that message. We also need to pray to be good listeners one to another. No one of us is so informed that our own judgment is always best. So we listen and weigh our view again, in light of someone else's wisdom and insight, There is a courtesy we owe one another, and a respect, and an esteem. We listen to each other, not dismissing the line of rea-soning, but attentively pondering it. What a beautiful gift we offer one another when we truly lis-ten! It is rare that we really do this. It can be singularly painful to someone when we do not do it, as when one who over a span of years has been looked up to as wise and judicious, insightful and intuitive, now senses that her views are being suddenly and sum-marily dismissed by younger members of the community. The real pain here is the feeling she has, upon seeing her remarks mentally brushed aside or not even fairly listened to, that she her-self is being discarded. This kind of not listening can go the other way, too. Someone Review for Religious young and presumably inexperienced touches deftly and wisely the very core of the issue and is merely smiled at as though youth's inexperience cannot possibly know anything that is truly perti-nent and helpful. All of us, of course, are painfully aware that most wisdom seems to come only by hindsight. Wisely did St. Augustine pray often for the grace of a "listening heart." We do indeed have to try our best to speak truth as we perceive it. Beyond that, we need the grace to be able to let go and try to pick up the truth in the words of others. Sometimes the need to let go can concern only myself: ¯ the death of a loved'one when I cannot even imagine living my life apart from that person, ¯ the loss of a friend in some painful misunderstanding that somehow cannot seem to be remedied, ¯ the diminishment and inability brought on by serious illness or aging, ¯ the hurt when politics decides who gets the promotion or the credit or the acclaim. One other demand on us individually from time to time will be the letting go of memories. We need never let go of the very heartening memories that enrich us and that are among our most precious treasures. We thank God over and over for those times, those persons, those events that set our hearts to singing at their every recall. But we do need to let go, with God's help, when the memory is painful and the whole episode shouts of injustice or rash judgments or false accusations or just plain dislike. It is right to try to remedy the wrong, particularly if it is done to someone else. Jesus asks each of us to be a speaker of truth. But when every effort fails and every avenue of remedy is sealed off, we need sim-ply to let go and to go on. It is not easy. Yet holding on and nurs-ing the grudge can be utterly destructive. We give the victory to the demon of darkness and we hurt God's cause. Ther

Issue 51.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1992. ; for religi.ous Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1992 ¯-VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 4 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ FAX: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ 5001 Eastern Avenue ¯ P.O. Box 29260 Washington~ D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for more subscription information and mailing costs. ©1992 Review for Religious for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Se~in Sammon FMS Wendy Wright PhD Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 4 contents evangelizing and witnessing ° 486 Church of the Poor Juan Ram6n Moreno sJ reflects on the implications of seeing the poor as central for the identity of the church and religious life. 496 Women Missioners amidst Violence Annmarie Sanders IHM reflects the questions, fears, and chal-lenges facing foreign women missionaries in Peru. 504 School of Terror Roy Bourgeois MM speaks on behalf of the poor as he voices his concern about a particular military training camp called the School of the Americas. inculturating 508 Women Religious and the African Synod M. Gerard Nwagwu offers her thoughts on the evangelization of Africa in an article originally presented as the keynote address at the National Day of Celebration of the Nigerian Conference of Women Religious in January 1992. 519 Rerooting Religious Life in South Africa Jennifer Mary Alt OP reflects on how native African spiritual values might become better integrated into the religious-life vocation. 527 54O 545 living religiously Religious Life and Religion Albert DiIanni SM calls attention to the religious core of a belief in God and of our relationship with God which cannot be reduced to a personal~ social, or ecological morality. Detachment in Our Psychological Age Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ explains detachment as a way of freeing ourselves from our compulsive behaviors and opening ourselves to God's healing. An Ache in My Heart Bernard Seif SMC witnesses to the continuing call and direction of God in bringing forth new forms of dedicated life in the " church. 482 Review Jbr Religious focusing religious life 550 Religious Life in Church Documents Patricia F. Walter OP presents some aspects identifying religious life in conciliar and postconciliar documents of the magisterium. 562 The Ignatian Charism of the Sisters of St. Joseph Joan L. Roccasalvo CSJ shows how the Spiritual Exercises per-meate Jean-Pierre M~daille's Maxims of Perfection and so fire an Ignatian spirit for the Sisters of St. Joseph. 575 Envisioning Associate Identity Rose Marie Jasinski CBS reflects on the status of the associate movement in the light of the second national conference held 5-7 May 1991. 581 Musings about Vocations James E. Claffey CM finds vocation ministry a stimulant to a broader understanding of how God breaks into our history. 585 595 600 614 484 625 632 ministering Pastoral Leadership beyond the Managerial (XL*~ Matthias Neuman OSB stresses the role of spiritual leadership in the midst of ministry challenges. Scarcity and Abundance in Parishes Thomas P. Sweetser SJ compares the parish to a desert of scarci-ties, but at the same time a desert beautiful with hidden wells of life. Marian Community and Ministry Patrick Primeaux SM combines data from both the theological and businessomanage.ment disciplines to distinguish a Petrine and a Marian way of ministering and of living community. Three Images of Priesthood Henry J. Charles proposes the images of priest as collaborator, mystagogue, and holy man for a renewed understanding of priesthood. departments Prisms /~ Canonical Counsel: Involuntary Ex~laustration Book Reviews .l~uly-Augu.ct 1992 483 prisms History happens. We human beings can write our history books and, by emphasis and omission and sometimes by romanticizing, make as if we are mas-ters of our history. It may take only some seventy years for the rewriting of the Communist history of Russia or it may take five hundred years for the European discovery of the Americas to be reevaluated. But it happens. We say that Pope John XXIII made history when he called the Second Vatican Council. We are well aware that the church experienced, through the actions of the bishops present at the council, something that has been likened to a second Pentecost. For our own availability to the God of history, we need to return again and again to the happening of that first Pentecost and the subsequent events as recorded in the Acts of the Apostles. God's Spirit makes things happen, even when the very persons involved seem so little capable of being the crafters of history. Most recently Pope John Paul II has expressed his own desire to make history by his call for a new evangelization, partic-ularly occasioned by our entering into the third millen-nium. This call to a new evangelization holds the promise of another moment of this second Pentecost that came with Vatican II. It is history happening, in which none of us is the master or control-artist, but every one of us plays an important role--with the Spirit's direction. Evangelization--new evangelization--demands much of us all. A paradigm of evangelization and inculturation captures our attention anew as we reflect upon the events in the Acts of the Apostles. It means that no one can hold himself or herself exempt from the call of this second moment of the second Pentecostqthe call to a new hear- 484 Review for Religious ing of good news. This is not the time for new rules or the impo-sition of old ones--the Judaizers tried that two thousand years ago. It is the time for Cornelius, his wife, and household to invite Peter once again to proclaim the gospel so that new conversion on everyone's part can take place. It is the time for Peter to dream new dreams and hear God telling him that old restrictions do not apply in a new creation moment. One of the deepest meanings of Pentecost lies in the fact that all peoples heard the good news in a way that they could under-stand and respond to. It goes beyond the language barrier to breakthroughs involving customs, heritages, and rituals. In the Pentecost beginnings, Jesus Christ and the gospel message needed no inculturation. In the new evangelization as in the original one recorded in the Acts of the Apostles, it is not Jesus Christ who needs to be inculturated; he is already a confidant of people's hearts. It is his church that must be inculturated by being evan-gelized anew as well as by evangelizing others. The Acts of the Apostles--the story of the first evangelizing time--portrays the exhilarating and somber picture that inculturating a church does not come without cost--a cost which everyone must bear in lis-tening to ~hocking good news, in experiencing a certain amount of turmoil, in suffering the pain of differences expressed vigorously by people who serve or are served. John Paul II has said that "we need an evangelization that is new in its ardor, new in its method, new in its expressions." That ' is what we--always the disciples--must allow to happen to our-selves first: to be evangelized anew in order to be the new evan-gelizers. We need to rethink how to inculturate a church, not a gospel. If the original Jewish and pagan converts to the new Christian faith seemed to share little common religious heritage and ritual and yet, with struggle, came to form the Body of Christ, can we today not recognize the imperative of a new evangelization demanding the same kind of breakthrough for traditionalists, lib-erals, feminists, or whatever modern-day version an appeal to the party of Apollos or Paul takes? A new evangelization brings the excitement of discovery into our own lives and so into our church. Let the Spirit lead. It has happened; it will happen again. David L. Fleming SJ ~uly-Augu~t 1992 485 JUAN RAMON MORENO Church of the Poor evangelizing and witnessing Juan Ram6n Moreno SJ was one of six Jesuits mur-dered along with an employee and her daughter by Salvadoran military forces at the Jesuit residence of the Central American University, San Salvador, on 16 November 1989. He was widely known as a spiritual director, teacher, preacher, and giver of retreats and conferences and was the founder and editor of the spirituality journal Diakonfa. Besides holding other responsibilities, at various times he was novice director for the Jesuits of Central America, local superior, university professor, and president of the Panamanian and Nicaraguan con-ferences of religious. This article was first published in Diakonfa 7 (1978): 17-28 and republished in a collection of Father Moreno's writings, Evangelio y misidn (San Salvador: UCA Editores, 1990). The translation is by James R. Brockman SJ with the permission of UCA Editores. The footnotes are the translator's. The term "church of the poor" is meant to express a new awareness of what it is to be church, an awareness that is growing in force among Christians in Latin America. The following thoughts are proposed as a help toward under-standing the foundation and principal traits of this way of viewing the church. Church of the Poor and Vatican II The schema on the church elaborated by the precon-ciliar doctrinal commission brought together the ecclesi-ology traditionally taught in recent centuries, and the 486 Review for Religious that allow one to recognize in Jesus the hoped-for Messiah are that "the blind see and the lame walk., and the good news is proclaimed to the poor" (Mt 11:5), what should be the traits that make recognizable Jesus' church? Church Born from Below Vatican II has allowed us to pass from a church that becomes conscious of itself and is organized and structured fr0m within, from itself, to a church that seeks to understand and structure itselffr0m without, from the world that it has been sent to in order to make God's kingdom grow in that world. Nevertheless, the reality that the world is a divided world had not yet made its full impact on the council. Consequently, the challenges to which it more directly proposes to respond are those of a world seen too much from above, from the angle of the learned and the skilled, from the culture and the perspective of the dominant classes. But at Medellfn2 the Latin American bishops began to express in an inspired and probing manner the conflictive reality of our world. The cry of the impoverished majority of the continent found an echo. The church began to become aware of itself and to organize and structure its life and pastoral action not from an abstract world or from just any part of the real, concrete world, but from below, from the world of the poor, and from there to fashion itself as the true church of Christ. Church of the Poor One must not confuse church of the poor with church3'br the poor. A church for the poo~r would be a church that is constituted in a first step that is logically prior to its encounter with the poor and then, in a second step, seeks out the poor to serve and help them. But the church of the poor is a church that in its very con-stitution has the poor as its center. There is no doubt that the church, as the historical body of Christ, must place itself in the world to transform it and to make present in it the reign of God. It must be incarnated, that is, take a body, become a visible and acting institution. But the problem is, what are the criteria that are to determine its institutional shape? What body will it take? Faithful to the incarnational logic of Jesus, the church must take the body of the poor, incorporat-j~ uly-.4ugust 1992 489 Moreno ¯ Church of the Poor ing the poor, making the poor to be those who make up what is characteristic and determinant of its body, which is structured and takes visible form from the cause and the interests of the poor. Let us take a Gospel passage that graphically illustrates this, which is the particular way of acting of Jesus. I choose the short scene with which Mark begins his third chapter. He describes a Jesus situated within a determined sociocultural-religious con-text. But Jesus is situated in it concretely, and he is situated in a way which is perceived by one of the parties as threatening to its interests--"they wer~ watching him closely" (3:2)--and which provokes a conflict so sharp that "they plotted together to see how to eliminate him" (3:6). What is indicative is the place where Jesus is situated and from which he faces the situation: solidarity with the actual man, the man in his poverty, the man oppressed by his paralyzed hand and forsaken by the institution. He has him step into the middle of the synagogue. And he obliges the others, the representatives of the grand institution, to face up to their own presuppositions: Is it licit or not? What is more important, the institution or the person, maintaining the institution or free-ing a man from what concretely oppresses him? What is the cri-terion to act on? "But they were silent" (3:4). Jesus' reaction is, "Then looking at them with anger . . ." (3:5). Countless times the Gospels speak of Jesus' look--always a loving and compas-sionate look. Now he looks "with anger." At whom? At that group of wise, prudent men who are respectful of the institution. Why? Because they refuse to commit themselves to the man, they refuse to make a decision in regard to a poor person, they refuse to take a stand in a situation that questions their rigid institutional schemes. Jesus says, "Hold out your hand" (3:5). Jesus chooses the poor person, the man in a situation of concrete need. The institution is either at the service of human beings orit does not reflect the true God. The Gospels contain many even more radical expressions about the poor as the fundamental criterion for discerning whether we are following the path to God's kingdom. Perhaps the most awesome and disquieting is the words contained in Matthew 25:31-46: "Come, blessed ones of my Father, inherit the kingdom . . . for I was hungry and you gave me to eat. depart from me, accursed ones., for I was naked and you did no~' clothe me . " There is not much room here for sociological or 490 Review for Religious theological lucubrations about who are the poor that are spoken of and what is the determinant criterion for measuring God's nearness. Crucified Church As we can see in the example of Jesus, taking the side of the poor supposes having the courage to get involved in conflict. The history of the Latin American church since Medellfn confirms what has been true all through its existence: insofar as it empties itself of power and prestige so as to enter the world of the poor and be identified with them and their cause, it has also had to suffer their lot--crucifixion and death--and it has come to under-stand why it cannot follow Jesus without denying itself and car-rying the cross. It is because the immense majority of the poor are not poor simply because of nature, but because of other persons. In reality, the poor are the impoverished. Hence, their mere pres-ence is an accusation, a questioning; it creates conflict. The poor are a cause of division, a division whose theological meaning is apocalyptically described in the eschatological discourse I have mentioned: "He will separate one from the other, as the shep-herd separates the sheep from the goats" (Mt 25:32). Jesus him-self, poor and in solidarity with the poor, appears as "a sign of contradiction" (Lk 2:34); and when he takes his place actually at the side of the poor, he provokes conflict and repression, and he suffers death. For this reason the church of the poor is the crucified church, the church of the martyrs. It is so insofar as it is a church of the poor. As long as it preaches universal but abstract love, as long as it is a church from above, the world's powerful praise and respect it; they consider it their church. But when it begins to translate love into historical terms, when it begins to take the side of the poor and it plans and organizes its pastoral work with them in mind, then it begins also to be the church that is slandered and persecuted. If we look at this fact in the light of the Beatitudes (see Lk 6:22-23, 26) there is no doubt which one is the church of Jesus. Church in which the Poor are Evangelized The poor are the privileged consignees of the good news of .~ly-Aug'ust 1992 491 Moreno ¯ Church of the Poor salvation. That does not mean they are the exclusive consignees. Partiality is not the same as exclusiveness. Jesus comes to bring sal-vation for all. But he comes to bring it from the poor, and fi'om them he confronts the changes that must come about in the world; he makes specific what it means to be converted, what it means to become brothers and sisters. This is not a matter of mystifying the poor, as if they were the good and the rich were the bad. It is that objectively God's identi-fication with the poor, the defense of their cause, is precisely where it is revealed what God is, a God who is love that saves, love that creates a brotherhood and sisterhood of sons and daughters, love that makes all things new. And so it is from there that salva-tion is offered to all. The Beatitudes proclaim, not the goodness of human beings, but the goodness of the God who identifies with the little ones of the earth. The Acts of the Apostles describes for us a church that under, stood this very well and where for that reason the poor find their place in such a way that they cease to be poor: Among them no one was needy, because all those who pos-sessed land or houses sold them and brought the price of the sale., and distribution was made to all according to their needs (Ac 4:34-35). It is the very gesture of him who "being rich became poor for you in order to enrich you with his poverty (2 Co 8:9). Church in which the Poor Evangelize Us This is another of the traits that characterize the church of the poor. St. John declares: Everyone who loves . . . knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love (1 Jn 4:7-8). But those who from their objective condition teach the church what true love of God, Christian love, consists in are the poor: If someone has material possessions and sees a brother in need and yet closes his heart to him, how can love of God dwell in him? My children, let us love not just with words, with our lips, but with actions and in truth (1 Jn 3:17-18). The poor reveal to us what the demands are of that love which, because it is Christian, seeks efficacy and a real change in the conditions of suffering and injustice of the poor. They makd us discover who God is: the one who takes the part of the orphan, 492 Review for Religious the widow, the stranger, the one who becomes their goeL They make us understand the Jesus who has compassion, who casts out demons, who looks with anger. They reveal to us the demons that must be cast out today, what the sin is that today stirs up the Lord's anger, what it is that today negates brotherhood, that kills our brother or sister. It is from the poor we must learn what grace means, grace that is manifested in powerlessness, that makes possible the impossible, that bursts in as pure gift. In short, they keep on making us discover the Gospel in a new dimension. On the other hand, if the poor are the privileged consignees of the good news of the kingdom, that means they must also be privileged in understanding and interpreting what that good news signi-fies. The Gospel is understood through the lens of the poor and from their per-spective. Therefore, it is in them before all else that the Spirit becomes present, From the poor we must learn what grace means, grace that is manifested in powerlessness, that makes possible the impossible, that bursts in as pure gift. and from there the Spirit speaks today to the church. There is a hierarchical magisterium in the church, but it only makes sense if it is rooted in the reality of those poor who make up the church's rank and file. The good shepherd's sheep follow him because "they know his voice" and "he knows his own sheep" (Jn 10:4, 14). The hierarchy of the church of the poor is a hierarchy of service, not of domination. It is a hierarchy that knows its sheep in dia-logue and solidarity, that is ai~tuned to their concrete needs, their sufferings, their longings. Precisely for this reason, because it can hear and understand the people's silent cry, it is able to speak with a language that is recognizable, and in the hierarchy's voice the poor find their life, their cause, their hope, their own voice. The theological reflection of the church of the poor is done from below also, tuning in to 'the awareness and the feelings of the poor. Those poor have had their voice taken away--within the church as well--for so long that they have forgotten how to speak and must learn, to express themselves; but they must increasingly acquire a voice within the church. And that voice must be heard, because in it is revealed the Spirit of Jesus that guides the church. Thus will arise a church where things are considered, struc-at~ dy-./lugust 1992 493 Moreno ¯ Church of tbe Poor tured, and carried out from the perspective of the poor. It is they who say how the institution should function, what new ministries are required for a better service, what ministries and functions they need so that they themselves may be active participants within the church's life. Church on Its Way We must not forget that this church of the poor is also a pil-grim church, a church that must keep forming itself through hard-ship and conflict. I am not referring now to conflict with the powers of the world; I am talking about the world and the sin that are still found within the church itself, about conflict that arises from the church's limitations and from different models of church. The church's unity--that unity for which Jesus died--is eschatological unity, a unity that will come about beyond the church itself as fundamental gift of the kingdom that will burst forth into fullness. The church has a mission to go on building that unity--which is universal brotherhood and sisterhood--by attacking at the root what keeps that unity from being realized. That is not achieved by denying the reality of the conflict, but by facing up to the lack of love and Folidarity that produces it. The mere existence of the poor exposes that lack of love and sol-idarity- which is why there will be protest, conflict, and division as long as there are poor--and it reminds us that salvation, the fullness of God's reign, has not yet arrived. The Religious Life in the Church of the Poor What place do we religious have within this church of the poor that I have just described? The religious life arises as protest against the values and struc-tures of the world. It arises as a search for what is radical in the Gospel, for the "one thing necessary" (Lk 10:42), which tends to be obscured in a church tempted to become worldly, to stop being the distinct event that it ought to be within the world. With its special form of Christian existence, religious life ought to be prophecy that points continually towards the church's true mean-ing and calls on it, not to settle down, but to seek ever to go for-ward. That is the eschatological meaning of the vows, as they show us a beyond that urgesus to transform the present. 494 Review for Religious But what is the natural place for religious life to flourish? Where is the root that makes our life radically evangelical? If what I have said about the church of the poor is true, then there is no doubt that the poor are the place par excellence where the reli-gious life should be located in order to carry out its charism of prophecy. In point of fact, the Spirit is stirring up a notable move-ment among religious towards a real and concrete insertion among the poor. From there the Spirit provides light for a reinterpreta-tion of religious life itself. The religious vows are seen before all else as ,consecration to the Christ who is poor and identified with the poor, as vows that consecrate by freeing us from fixity and exclusiveness so as to form Christians who are available for all and approachable by all, but with an availability and approacha-bility whose universalness is shown precisely in being dedicated by preference to the poor and effectively committed to their cause. It means being detached in order to go where the institution can scarcely reach because of the difficulty and poverty of the condi-tions. Jon Sobrino expresses it very well as a going to the desert, the periphery, the frontier: to the desert, where no one is, where no one wants to go; to the periphery, where everything is seen through the lens of the powerless (not to the center, where the powerful are, where things are seen from above); to the frontier, where risks are greater and the task is harder, where there are no trodden paths because no one has trod them and the walkways are made by walking. What better way to fulfill religious life's prophetic function within the church than to help it read the signs of the times from that insertion into the world and struggle of the poor? What bet-ter way than to point out the new paths that the Spirit of Jesus is having us discover through the poor, in whom that Spirit becomes so specially present? The challenge offered us is, how to bring this about? To what conversion does the Lord call us as religious within the church so that we may help it become increasingly a church of the poor? Notes 1 The Documents of Vatican H (New York: The America Press, 1966), pp. 23-24. 2 The 1968 Latin American bishops' assembly at Medell~n, Colombia. July-August 1992 495 ANNMARIE SANDERS Women Missioners amidst Violence efforts of two insurgency groups, drug lords, and a military that violates more human rights than the groups it seeks to suppress. Through the country more than sixty percent of the people are living in emergency zones, and a great deal of these areas have been placed under military control. Many of the towns have lost their leaders, doctors, teachers, and development workers and even their police. Often only Catholic church workers remain, the great majority of whom are women religious. The situation has called us who serve here to a new way of liv-ing and ministering among the people and to a new spirituality. Following Christ and living Christian values can no longer be done as in the past. The reality in which our spirituality is lived out is now radically different. In speaking with various foreign women missionaries through-out Peru, I see that we struggle with many of the same new chal-lenges, are asking ourselves the same questions, and are recognizing similar patterns in our lives of prayer and relation with God. Our situation is unique because of the state of the country in which we work. The complexity of problems plaguing Annmarie Sanders IHM, a member of her congregation's vocation and formation team, has been in Peru since March 1989, She also works as associate editor of Latinamerica Press/Noticias Aliadas. Her address is Apartado 18-0101 ; Lima, Peru. 496 Review for Religious Peru does not follow any pattern in the history of other nations, and thus we have no precedent to follow. To understand our questions, fears, and challenges, one must better understand the context of the violence we face. Peru's two terrorist groups, the Maoist Sendero Luminoso (Shining Path) and the Tupac Amaru Revolutionary Move-ment, hold as their primary goals the takeover of the country. So far their efforts since 1980 ¯ have resulted in 23,000 deaths, 5,000 disap-pearances and US$18 billion in economic damage. Sendero has declared its willingness to wade through a "river of blood" to expunge foreign influence in Peru and establish a peas-ant society. It rejects competition from the church, the state, and the private sector. The methods of the two groups include bombings, intimidations, blackmail, torture, and ruth-less murder. The terrorist groups are known to be linked with narco-traffic rings, and in return for the security which the terrorists provide coca traffickers, they receive an esti-mated $40 million a year. Although the current government of Although the terrorist problem has been present in the country for over a decade, only recently has the church been directly affected. President Albert Fujimori attempts to control the drug trafficking and terrorist situations, it also battles cholera, endemic corruption, frequent drought, eighty-percent underemployment, and a deep economic depression leaving 13 million of Peru's 22 million inhabitants in extreme poverty, a figure which has doubled in three years. The government must also contend with the Peruvian military and police forces, which, according to the Washington Office on Latin America, are among the worst violators of human rights in the hemisphere. The U.S. State Department's 1990 human-rights report notes "widespread credible reports of summary executions, arbitrary arrests, and torture and rape by the military, as well as less frequent reports of such abuses by the police." The United Nations Commission on Human Rights noted that in 1991, for the fourth consecutive year, Peru had the highest number of disap-pearances of all the countries in the world. Although the terrorist problem has been present in the coun-try for over a decade, only recently has the church been directly affected. Between the church and the terrorists there had existed .~dy-August 1992 497 Sanders ¯ Women Missioners amidst Violence an "understanding." Generally, when terrorists entered to take over a village, if church workers complied with terrorist expecta-tions they were left unharmed. The church work often had to be significantly curtailed,.'but the religious could remain as a presence to the people. The recent direct destruction of church projects and prop-erty; the deaths of Irene McCormack, an Australian Sister of St. Joseph, in Junin in May 1991 and of Zbigniew Strzalkowski and Michael Tomaszek, Polish Franciscan priests, and Alessandro Dordi Negroni, an Italian priest, in Chimbote in August 1991; and the attempted assassination in July 1991 in Chimbote of Miguel Company, a priest from Spain, changed the scene signif-icantly. More religious encountered terrorist demands that their works--especially food aid and development projects--be stopped, and many received direct threats on their lives. Rather suddenly priests and religious became direct terrorist targets. Sendero Luminoso proclaimed that the church was the enemy of the peo-ple and an obstacle to revolutionary triumph. As the Rev. Robert Gloisten, a U.S. missioner and a staff member of the Peruvian Episcopal Conference for Social Action, stated, "We have become a church under fire with no idea of what will happen day to day." For several years, denial of the serious-ness of the situation was possible. Life was carried on with a vague knowledge that terrorists were active in a few isolated areas; as long as their activity did not directly touch us, we could continue peacefully. Those days are past. ~ The level of awareness and acceptance of the reality of this sit-uation naturally differs for each person. Much depends on one's personal experiences. For example, Pittsburgh Sister of Mercy Rita Harasiuk, who works in the diocese of Chimbote, was jolted by the death of her three colleagues into a new view of the situation: Although I began seeing things differently with the attempted assassination of Miguel Company, it was really the deaths of the two Franciscans that affected me the most. The two, along with two mayors from nearby towns who were also killed, were laid out together in coffins--all open-- and one worse than the other. For some of us, it was the first time we had seen what a human body looked like after having been shot in the head with weapons designed to destroy and mutilate . When Sandro [Alessandro Dordi] was killed two weeks later, we could see that more killing might go on. That's when we really began to strug-gle with what our response to this situation should be. 498 Review for Religious For California native Teresa Avalos of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet, an incident directly involving her community played a significant role in making the situation more real for her and her sisters. In July 1991 a group of Sendero Luminoso ter-rorists entered Moho, where five of her community members lived and worked. They dynamited several buildings, executed six people, and ordered the townspeople to break into and ransack the convent. "This brought the fear of violence that is directed toward us much more into the open," Avalos said. Others of us have grown in our acceptance of the seriousness of the situation from our hearing such accounts by our colleagues. We stand in solidarity with them, aware that the problem is no longer isolated. An important task most of us have faced has been the admission of our feelings in the midst of such turmoil. Fear, nat-urally, is among the most common emotions, and, unfortunately, sometimes very difficult to accept and share with others. "We are all at different stages of being able to accept the real-ity, and some are still in a stage of denial," said California native Liane Delsuc of the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur. "This leaves me often feeling alone and sometimes I don't want to share my fears because others don't feel them. I start to think--is it only me that feels this way? Does that mean I should leave? That I am not able to handle it? But I do not feel that is the case. So I look for people with whom I can more freely share because in sharing it I feel stronger and as if I can continue living this." The sharing has helped us understand the wide range of emo-tions we feel. "Reflecting with others enables me to sift through real fears and imaginary ones," said Pauline Maheux, an Edmonton, Canada, native of the Ursuline Sisters of the Chatham Union; "in sharing we help one another admit to our fears and face them." The emotions one feels get mixed up when one watches the sense-less killing and destruction of years of work. Feelings include shock and anger. Often what is hardest for us to accept is the distrust we now feel towards others since we know that we must be aware of terrorist infiltration into our parishes and workplaces. An important task most of us have faced has been the admission of our feelings in the midst of such turmoil. July-August 1992 499 Sanders ¯ Women Missioners amidst Violence Harasiuk received a shocking revelation of this after the funeral for the slain Franciscans. At the offertory two gifts were quietly brought in procession to the altar: the rope used to tie the hands of those killed and the blood-covered cardboard left on their bodies with messages from the assassins. "We later dis-covered that among the young people bringing the gifts to the altar were persons who belonged to Sendero." Our situation naturally causes us to reflect on death--that which we see around us as well as our own. "I think much more about the possibility of my own death," said French native Anna Ingett of the Sisters of Christian Education; "not that I think death will come in the next few days,,but I am more conscious of its nearness." Given this stark reality, we are constantly asking ourselves on personal, communal, local, diocesan, and national levels: How do we deal with this personally and how are we to respond as church workers? One of the greatest challenges we face is receiving accu-rate information about what is happening in the country. The media in Peru are severely restricted and often rely on third-party sources; great doubts remain. Although organizations such as the Religious Conference of Peru work hard to gather facts, the dis-semination of information is very difficult, given the lack many religious have of telephones and reliable mail service. Many reli-gious, however, felt aided by the Religious Conference's meet-ings and workshops on violence and also by programs dealing with situations and problems in the various dioceses. What seems most useful to us are open, honest dialogues with our community members and other religious working in our areas. Many of us have listened to the facts, tried to process our feelings, and then asked ourselves some hard questions: How much more of this can I take? Will I leave if one more religious or priest is killed? Can I live with this tension? Can I remain a sign of hope in what looks like an apparently hopeless situation? Once some sense of peace was reached about our presence here, we began reexamining why we are staying. Many of us, espe-cially those working the emergency zones, began looking at our work with very different eyes. "After the deaths here, most of us slowed down and started thinking, evaluating, praying, and talk-ing together about why we are here and what we should be doing," said Harasiuk, who has been working for ten years as a pastoral team member in Chimbote. She recalls a meeting of priests and 500 Revlew for Religious sisters where someone asked, "Do you think you should continue working as you have been?" Not one person said yes. Many pastoral workers have reduced their work to simple presence in their parishes. They no longer lead groups, distribute food and aid, or attempt to organize the people. They maintain a low profile and lead quiet lives of simple accompaniment. For Delsuc, who is principal in a Lima barrio of a Fe and Alegrfa School, one of forty-three institutes set up by the Jesuits to educate young people in Lima's shantytowns and in the provinces, the questions about work are many: "I wonder if we are presenting relevant, peaceful alterna-tives that will allow the people to respond with Christian values to the violence around them? I wonder if it would'be better not to be involved in a certain work and just live alongside the people? I wonder if our commit-ment to the people is valuable even if it brings death?" Many of our ques-tions must be left unanswered. But we recognize that simply by asking them we have allowed our lives to be changed. For many of us, before we could accept the change the situ-ation calls us to, we had to let go of the past. Harasiuk says that this was a common experience for the religious in Chimbote after the deaths. "Our grieving process was not just for persons, but for a whole way of life that is passing. This situation has taken away from us a freedo~n to move day and night without fear, to speak openly without worrying about what we say or to who~n we are talking." For Harasiuk this experience also helped her to evaluate her life and her activity and to decide what really matters. "So many of the things I had been involved in suddenly did not seem so important." Maheux, who has served as a pastoral worker for eight years in Chiclayo, had a similar experience. "The situation has enabled me to sift through what is of essence and what is truly insignifi-cant. Relationships have taken on profound meaning . . . to be nourished and cherished." The change in relationships extends for most of us also to I wonder if we are presenting relevant, peaceful alternatives that will allow the people to respond with Christian values to the violence around them ? j~t~-Aug'u~ 1992 501 Sanders ¯ Women Missioners amidst Violence our relation with God. Many have noted that prayer is more dif-ficult, little ecstasy is experienced, much more anger is expressed, fewer words are used, and often God becomes the scapegoat for all of Peru's problems. Christ, for many of us, reveals himself in new ways in Scripture. "I experience Christ more in his passion, where he ends up in the midst of violence, mistreatment, and ridicule but stands strong to his values and commitments," said Delsuc. Many seek a sense of consolation in their relation with God--an assurance that they are loved and that God is still in control. Many, feeling lost in the confusion of these times, turn to God as a source of wisdom. For Lia Finnerty, a Canadian Holy Cross sister working in Juli, prayer is now more integrally connected with what is hap-pening in the news and in her village. "My prayer is the time when I can try to integrate our reality with God's word and see how our community is touched by all that." That need to connect our prayer with the wider community and to pray with others is co,ninon among us. Many note that the desire for communal peti-tionary prayer is much stronger and that it is a helpful experi-ence to bring to God each day all that we see and experience each day. Ingett, who serves on a pastoral team in Sicuani, notes that her community's time of petitionary prayer is also a time for asking pardon for all that these women experience in their daily inter-action with the people. Living in the midst of so much violence and structural injustice has clearly revealed to many of us the anger and violence present within ourselves. "Sometimes it's so hard to hear that the police have attacked innocent victims or tortured young people," admitted Finnerty. "My first reaction is often a violent one, even though I want to be nonviolent." We all seem to struggle with the anger we feel and our desire to be compassionate, and we ask ourselves many questions about how we can be more nonviolent people. We are trying different approaches. Massachusetts native Carmen Foley, a Halifax Sister of Charity serving as a spiritual director in Lima, is looking at her interactions with others and her judgments and is trying to be more merciful in her attitudes. Avalos, a pastoral worker in a Lima barrio and formhr.vice-provincial of her congregation, is look-ing at violence in her speech and her reactions. Finnerty, a pastoral worker among the Aymara people, is returning to the Aymaran value of solidarity and community as a block to violence. Delsuc 502 Review for Religious is practicing communication techniques to become more skilled in conflict resolution. Probably most important for all of us, however, is an openness to learn from the Peruvian people, who seem to know better than any of us just what hope in the midst of crisis is all about. As Maheux concluded, "My greatest source of hope for the future is the women, men, and children with whom I live. Their faith-fulness to the daily struggle to just live--to being able to eat, to the one-day-at-a-time facing of tremendous obstacles--teaches me that justice, peace, and life will endure and win out." Coming Out one shall know as dawn disentangles morning from night if one's desert spell was purgation or vacation was awakening or escape when one emerges anointed in power or scorched and spent Andrea Wild OSF July-August 1992 503 ROY BOURGEOIS School of Terror write from the Federal prison in Tallahassee, Florida, where am serving a sixteen-month sentence for an act of civil dis-obedience to protest the training of Salvadoran soldiers on United States soil. As I look back, I feel my being here is no accident, but rather the result of God's grace at work in my life. Growing up in rural Louisiana, I was a Sunday Christian and gave little thought to issues of peace and justice. I studied geology in college with the hope of getting rich in the oil fields of South America. After college I became a naval officer and volunteered for duty in Vietnam, feeling it was. my patriotic duty to fight communism. There I met a missionary who, amid the war, gave me a vision of Jesus as a healer and peacemaker. I left Vietnam wanting to be a missionary and entered Maryknoll, whose work is in twenty-eight countries overseas and in the United States. I was ordained in 1972 and went to serve the poor of Bolivia. A slum on the outskirts of La Paz became my home for six years. In Bolivia, as in Vietnam, the poor became my teachers and challenged me to grow in my faith. I then returned to do educational work in the United States. My involvement with E1 Salvador began in 1980, after Archbishop Oscar Romero was gunned down at the altar and after four church women from the United States were raped and killed by Salvadoran soldiers. Two of the women, Maryknoll sisters Maura Clarke and Ita Ford, were friends of mine. Their death forced me to confront what was happening in this small Central American country. Roy Bourgeois MM writes that prison can be a good place to read Scripture, pray, and do ministry. His address is Register No. 01579-017; PMB 1000; Tallahassee, Florida 32301. 504 Review for Religious After several trips to E1 Salvador, it became clear that the problem was not "communism" or "subversion" but hunger. As is the case almost everywhere in Latin America, the wealth, power, and land of E1 Salvador are in the hands of an elite few. While these live in huge mansions where they are waited on by servants and enjoy frequent vacations and shopping sprees in the United States and Europe, most Salvadorans live in dehumanizing pover.ty and die before their time. The poor, once told that their suffering was the will of God, now know better as they gather in small groups to read and reflect on the word of God. They now real-ize that their poverty and suffering are the result of exploitation, greed, and irresponsible stew-ardship of God's creation. In May 1983, five hundred Salvadoran sol-diers arrived at Fort Benning, Georgia, to undergo U.S. Army training. At the time, I was speaking at churches and colleges in New Orleans about the injustice of U.S. military aid to E1 Salvador. I felt it was no time for business as usual, so I went to Columbus, Georgia, the home of Fort Benning, and began meeting with local residents. After two months of meet-ings, talks, and prayer vigils, three of us decided to enter Fort Benning at night, dressed as U.S. Army officers. Armed with a.high-powered cassette player, we climbed a tall pine tree near the barracks that housed the Salvadoran soldiers. At lights out, we tuned the cassette player to its highest volume and played Archbishop Romero's last homily, given in the cathedral the day before he was assassinated; in it he called on the military to stop the killing and lay down their arms. We were arrested, tried for criminal trespass ~and impersonating military officers, and sen-tenced to eighteen months' imprisonment. After serving my term I sought a few months of silence and solitude at. a Trappist monastery, then returned to the pulpit and classroom. On 16 November 1989 six Jesuit priests, their coworker, and her fifteen-year-old daughter were brutally murdered in E1 Salvador. According to a U.S. Congressional task force sent to El Salvador to investigate the massacre, five of the nine soldiers arrested for the slayings had been trained at Fort Benning. Today, hundreds of Salvadoran and other Latin American soldiers are being trained at Fort Benning's School of the Americas. The The problem was not "communism" or "subversion" bu t hunger. .y~dy-August 1992 505 Bourgeois ¯ Scbool of Terror School of the Americas (SOA) was located in Panama before mov-ing to Benning in 1984. Since 1946 this training ground for Latin American soldiers has quietly readied some 45,000 officers and enlisted men for right-wing Latin American governments. Manuel Noriega is a distinguished alumnus, as is General Hugo Banzer of Bolivia. In 1984, when the SOA was forced out of Panama, then Panamanian president Jorge Illueja described the school as "the biggest base of destabilization in Latin America." The foundation of the course work at the School of the Americas is low-intensity conflict (LIC), which, by military ana-lyst Michael Klare's definition, is "that amount of murder, muti-lation, torture, rape, and savagery that is sustainable without triggering widespread public disapproval at home." Students of LIC learn that the enemy is not just an opposing armed force; rather, the enemy can include anyone, armed or unarmed, who threatens the stability of the existing order. Hence, priests, teach-ers, health-care workers, union leaders, cooperative members, and human-rights advocates are among the victims of the School of the Americas. On 3 September 1990, ten of us--Vietnam veterans, Salva-dorans, a teacher, and members of the clergy--began a water-only fast at the entrance of Fort Benning to protest the training of' Salvadoran soldiers. When our fast ended after thirty-five days, our bodies were weak but our spirits remained strong. Miguel Cruz, a Salvadoran in our group who had been forced to leave his country because of a death threat, said, "We have the option to end our fast. However, the poor in my country do not. For them hunger is an everyday occurrence." On November 16, when we had recovered from the fast, three of us--Charles Liteky, a former army chaplain who had received the Medal of Honor for heroism in Vietnam; his brother Patrick, who had trained at Fort Benning's Infantry School, and I-- returned to Fort Benning to observe the first anniversary of the killing of the six Jesuits and the two women. After a prayer service, we entered the post, placed a white cross with photos of the eight martyrs at the entrance to the School of the Americas, and poured blood in one of the school's main halls. We wanted to impress on our country that we cannot wash our hands of the blood of inno-cent people killed in E1 Salvador by soldiers trained in the United States. We were arrested and tried. A jury found us guilty of dam- '506 Review for Religious aging government property. The Liteky brothers received six-month sentences, and I received sixteen months because of my previous conviction at Fort Benning in 1983. "Was it worth it?" I am often asked by friends and critics alike. Prison is hard and very lonely at times, even with the support of family and friends, who also suffer. My dad cried when I called home to tell him of my sentenc-ing. Yet I feel I did what my faith and the poor called me to do in the face of such violence, death, and suffering. As a Christian I feel I must try to relieve the suffering of the poor and integrate my faith in a loving God with action. It is indeed tragic what our silence did to the people of E1 Salvador over the past twelve years as our po!iticians fun-neled billions of dollars (hard-earned tax money) to a military regime that killed thousands of innocent people. ~ The recent peace accords in E1 Salvador now bring new hope, and it is a time for rebuilding after all the death and destruction. It is also a time for the hundreds of Salvadoran soldiers who continue their training at Fort Benning to go home--along with the troops from Guatemala, Honduras, Venezuela, Peru, Chile, Colombia, Bolivia, and other Latin American countries. I am convinced that we can relieve some of the suffering of the poor in Latin America by closing down the School of the Americas. It is a school of terror and should be shut down. While I am in prison, friends in Georgi~ are carrying on the peace-and-justice work. To learn more about our efforts, write to School of the Americas Watch; P.O. Box 3330; Columbus, Georgia 31903. Archbishop Romero said, "We who have a voice must speak for the voiceless." I pray and hope that we will speak clearly and boldly. As a Christian I feel I must try to relieve the suffering of the poor and integrate my faith in a loving God with action. j~dy-August 1992 507 M. GERARD NWAGWU Women Religious and the African Synod inculturating Following the initial enthusiasm with which our people welcomed Pope John Paul II's announcement of a special assembly for Africa of the Synod of Bishops,l an accom-modating attitude of tolerance for whatever might result from the event seems to have settled in. In such a frame of mind, any document coming from the synod will proba-bly be treated like any other Vatican document---it will be gratefully accepted and respectfully mentioned, but lit-tle else will follow. If, however, the document were to grow out of our experiences and be developed from our contributions, then its contents would have a better chance of being well received and more fully observed. The introductory chapter to the Lineamenta2 speaks of the period of preparation and celebration of the synod as the "tempus acceptabile," the favorable hour, the hour of Africa. This is the hour we have all waited for. It offers us a unique opportunity to bring about some of the changes and modifications religious life in Africa needs. It is a time for religious women in Africa to state our vision of commitment and involvement. This favorable hour con-tinues until the synod is actually celebrated and concluded, As part of this process it is important for us to raise issues and speak out about the problems that women religious encounter as they try to contribute to the work of evan-gelization in Africa. Indeed, for Africans this synod truly M. Gerard Nwagwu does much of her teaching at the Catholic Institute of West Africa; P.O. Box 499; Port Harcourt, Nigeria. 508 Review for Religious promises to be a "third Vatican Council" in what it could accom-plish for us. Consequently the initial period of intense preparation needs to be followed by a continued interest in the synod that fosters a receptive disposition of willingness to adopt its directives. The next generation of religious is likely to question how we made use of this opportunity, criticizing chances wasted and applauding those utilized. The older generation in their turn will be less critical insofar as they have never experienced such an event during their active days and therefore cannot be blamed for not effecting changes. Our contemporaries themselves could point accusing fingers at us if, for all our ideals and foresight, we achie~ced nothing when the circumstances were most opportune. Accepting facts as they are can be a mark of virtue on occa-sion. However, if we were to do that in the present situation, it would indicate complacency and inertia exactly when the action of working toward objectives that will benefit our people is demanded of us. Accepting the status quo just when the church calls us to make a move could indicate a cowardice and portray a fear of "launching out into the deep waters and laying out the nets for a catch," as Christ challenged the Apostles to do at a point when all hope seemed lost.3 We need an openness among ourselves to help us discover our weaknesses, our duties, and our obligations of evangelization--duties that the Code of Canon Law itself demands of religious in canons 211 and 758. Aware of these challenges, we can begin searching for an effective strategy. The Lineamenta presents a good number and variety of themes for our consideration. In any of these themes, the African reli-gious woman-has a role to play, not simply because she is an African or works in Africa, but because her religious life is directly intertwined with the life of the church. Vatican II witnessed to the fact that at no time in history has the church lacked some form of religious life.4 Religious life, in other words, is a con-stant and inseparable feature of the church. This universally his-toric fact is no different on African soil. However, it would take us too far afield to dwell on all of'the proposed themes as they relate to women religious in general. Rather let us consider those that focus strictly on the life of women religious in Africa, their apostolates, and their relationship with the world around them. Presently, most of the countries in Africa have celebrated the centenary of the arrival of the early Catholic missionaries. The few July-August 1992 509 Nwag-wu ¯ Women Religious and the African Synod who have not will do so in the near future. Mmost everywhere the native indigenous clergy have assumed the direction of the particular churches, on both the diocesan and parish levels. Unfortunately the same cannot be said for all congregations of religious women in Africa.5 These factors and others highlight the growth of the church in Africa. Specifically, religious institutes are not left behind in the development. The momentous rise in the number of vocations to the religious life, especially in women's congregations, attests to this growth. Indeed the problem for many religious commu-nities is not so much trying to attract candidates but finding ways of adequately training and forming them in the spiritual and apos-tolic life. It is no wonder that foreign religious institutes endeavor to recruit girls from Africa to fill up their depleted ranks. Such recruiting, however, has been limited and conditioned by the authorities since it has often left a trail of disillusioned women who believed they were sent abroad for further studies, only to find that they were meant to supply domestic services. Though the road remains open for taking candidates abroad, yet some condi-tions must be fulfilled.6 The obvious growth of the church in Africa is one of the "signs of the times" that determine the form evangelization should assume in our midst. The evangelization that starts first with inte-rior conversion of hearts, matures to a personal witness of life, and finally develops into external commitments and service is the type that best suits the vocation of religious women. Before evan-gelizing others we must evangelize ourselves, for only after we have been converted can we support those around us.7 We shall be witnesses, yes, but only after an interior transformation of heart. Through such an authentic witness of the life of the evan-gelical counsels, we can make our own contribution to the new stage of evangelization required in Africa. With regard to reli-gious life, this first stage of evangelization involVes modeling to our people the values of total dedication and consecration to God with a hope of evoking a corresponding response from young women and men to embrace religious life. The second stage of renewed evangelization which suits our time is that of deepen-ing the faith of those who already believe and are baptized, We are already experiencing an influx of vocations, but how deep is their faith, how reliable is their commitment? Religious women, particularly, must ask probing questions, 510 Review for Religious admit the facts, and make worthwhile proposals. The point at issue is whether we realize that the effective contribution of women religious in the evangelization of Africa depends first on the genuine and generous commitments of our communities and second on the spiritual and apostolic formation we give our younger members. The vitality of religious life in Africa depends on these elements and on its being a true witness of the presence and love of God among our people. Such an objective compels us to examine some of the negative currents that undermine our abil-ity to evangelize our people in the manner referred to above. Primary among the negative currents is the wind of secularism that has blown through the world from the 1980s to the present day and has begun to register its presence in Africa. Some see it as materialism, others as atheistic humanism. Secularism, as Pope Paul VI has pointed out, views the world as entirely self-explanatory without any reference to God, who thus becomes unnecessary and is, as it were, an embarrassment. Secularism of this kind seeks to assert the power of humankind and leads to a situation in which God is ignored and denied.8 An allied expression is secularization. Where secularism is a theory and an ideology leading to denial of God, secularization is, instead, the fact and reality of experiencing life with a secular-ized mentality and attitude--that is, evaluating life from a worldly point of view. This, then, is the new form of atheism by which God is perceived to be less present, less necessary, less capable of providing a valid explanation of personal or social life experi-ences. In its undiluted form, secularization should not find a stronghold in Africa, given the characteristic spiritual vision of life within an African society wherein the divine permeates all aspects of life. However, what has invaded this sense of the sacred is the aftermath of secularization, revealed in such characteristics as superficiality, the desire for power and domination over others, autonomy and individualism, and a pleasure-loving orientation. Within our religious circles, when we lack an original experience of God and consequently fail to lead others to a similar experience, the evangelical counsels are confused or glossed over in various attempts to describe, them. We shall be witnesses only after an interior transformation of heart. j-~uly-August 1992 511 Nwag~u ¯ Women Religious and the African Synod Poverty is explained away in the tendency to acquire and accu-mulate in the name of the congregation; chastity in the necessity of having the comfort, convenience, and satisfaction of personal fulfillment; obedience in the assertion of autonomy and individ-uality as marks of our uniqueness and originality. In the maze of such ambiguity, the question for religious women to answer is whether at the present stage of their religious experience they can lay claim to preserving in full the religious sense and charac-ter of their consecration. Where secularization has made its mark, it is difficult to be a witness of the Gospel message. Secularism holds out to us the values of the world and urges us to conform; the Gospel offers us the mind and values of Christ. If we examine our situation and find out that our choices are secular in character, it is important for us to admit it, and so be able to discover what strategy to adopt con-cerning it. The type of choices we make and the attitudes we have clearly show whether we are evangelized at heart or not. On a secondary level the way we treat each other and the interpersonal regard we nurture in our communities would truly show if the Gospel values were operating among us. For when we continue to make discriminatory preferences between persons or congregations, then our witnessing cannot be anything but counterproductive to the task of evangelization. When we are carrying out a common objective, what should matter is the appre-ciation of a sister as a religious and the virtues she possesses for her to be entrusted with an undertaking which she will accomplish in the name of all, not whether she is a member of one congre-gation rather than another, or whether she has occupied a position of importance in her institute, or whether she has important con-nections, and so forth. Evangelizing witness on the community level is likely to be rendered nugatory as ~vell if, instead of the communion and unity which religious life signifies, we have the division and disunity of uncoordinated activity. The difficulties occasioned by lack of cooperation and coordination are most often seen between dif-ferent congregations rather than between members of the same institute. How often have we witnessed the complaints and dis-enchantment of institutes whose services are unceremoniously terminated in a place in favor of another institute--especially when the institute that takes up the apostolate in question may be completely ignorant of how the first institute left the scene! Such 512 Review for Religious a practice is exploitive and appears to be based on the availability of women religious. Apart from the circumstance related above in which two con-gregations of religious women are made to be victims at the same time, division of opinion among institutes is certainly a question that needs to be considered if the challenges of our times are to be adequately addressed. The church regards women religious as experts in communion both because of the communitarian quality of our consecration and because of our natural tendency to bond ourselves closely to oth-ers. Our best field of operation, therefore, is to work for unity and communion within our African church in all its various components. Women have a great capacity for personal adaptation in the face of the varied and often unexpected needs of the real life of societies and churches. We are thus often in a better position to ensure not merely the survival but even the development of evangelization.9 A determination to form deeper and stronger bonds of solidarity and sharing between our various institutes is the best way to confront the changing political, economic, and social conditions of our times. Such operative and meaningful solidarity will happen if various congregations are able to evolve while each institute retains its unique identity and character. As Pope Paul VI told us,'° we are missionaries to ourselves at this stage of the evangelization of Africa. We Africans are cat-echizing and witnessing t6 our own people in our home missions. We are also undertaking the evangelization of other African coun-tries outside our homeland--not overlooking, of course, the invaluable assistance offered by our foreign missionaries. Taking into account the greater number of women .religious, these foreign missions are mostly operated by religious sisters. We must ask ourselves, therefore, whether there exists a corresponding mis-sionary cooperation between the various religious congregations whose members labor on these foreign missions, or whether mis-sionaries carry along with them to the missions the lack of coop-eration and perhaps rivalry which possibly exists at home. We need to remember the call of John Paul II as he spoke about the problems facing evangelization in Africa: secularization has made its mark, it is difficult to be a witness of the Gospel message. July-August 1992 513 Nwagcvu ¯ Women Religious and the African Synod Let all form one unity. Let everything be done to smooth and multiply the ways of mutual esteem, of fraternity, of collaboration. May anything that might be the cause of suf-ferings or casting aside, for one group or another, be ban-ished! May all be penetrated with sentiments of humility and of mutual service! For Christ! For the witness of the church! For the progress of evangelization!'~ With a unified front, we religious could more easily discover new approaches to problems that arise in the apostolate. These problems include the challenge of Islam and the determination of Muslims to spread the Koran from coast to coast by whatever means available. Carrying arms and matching violence with vio-lence is definitely not what the church expects religious women to accomplish in this regard. Neither is it possible to close our eyes and imagine that the friction and conflict with Muslims will even-tually ease off while we do nothing. We must, however, evaluate our strength and discover unobtrusive ways to reduce the threat of Islam for our people. In the face of such an offensive, the church has in the past usually adopted the practice of intensified prayer and a rigorous asceticism lived with generous hearts. Some apostolic religious institutes were founded to labor in countries of Islamic faith. But there are relatively few, if any, contemplative orders founded exclusively for the propagation of faith among Muslims. Such contemplative orders, which by their i~rayers, works of penance, and sacrifices labor to effect the conversion of souls, are crucial for the growth of Christian faith amidst the increased onslaught of Islamic hostility. It would be a welcome endeavor if the tendency our religious folk have to found new religious institutes is allowed to mature into communities that will pitch their tents among the Muslims of our country despite foreseeable opposition and even death. If such an inspiration of the Spirit were to happen, it would cer-tainly respond to the needs of the times. The challenge of Islam requires a radical religious decision. It calls for active institutes to reawaken their consciousness of the value and practice of the con-templative dimension of religious life. The Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes exhorts: The contemplative dimension is the real secret of renewal for every religious life. Being a reality of grace, it preserves in the religious the commitment to bear witness before the world to the primacy of a personal relationship with God. They can thus avoid the constant danger for apostolic work- 514 Review for Religious ers who often become so much involved in their work for the Lord as to forget the Lord ofalI work,~z Another area of concern is the proliferation of sects and evan-gelical movements. The increase in their adherents means that some other churches--the traditional Christian churches includ-ing the Catholic Church--are losing members. The sects usually direct their proselytizing toward those who are already Christians and offer them what they apparently cannot get from their mother churches. Again Paul VI sounded the alarm when he noted: It is well known that in some places the church in Africa runs the risk of the fidelity of its sons and daughters being subjected to dangers and struggles, and to being tempted by false teaching. Indeed, Christian faith must become some-thing interior like a personal possession of each individ-ual.' 3 In the face of such phenomena, congregations of women reli-gious can be of immense help to the church if they include this ground among their fields of apostolate for the second stage of evangelizing Africa. By identifying the reasons Christians are attracted to these sects and the group of Catholics that are easily influenced by them, they can develop a strategy for deepening the faith of those most affected. Often a shallow faith, which offers no reply to the vital questions of suffering and pain, poverty and misery, doubts and fears, insecurity and emptiness, sickness and death and so forth, is quickly abandoned for what seems a better way out of problems. Such defections occur where people seek a church that'proffers some human warmth and mutual con-cern, an experience the larger churches cannot easily provide.'4 Even if religious themselves do not minister directly to the sects and their adherents, they can train the Christian laity to assume their role of searching out and reevangelizing their brethren. Similarly, it is important to examine the variety of means of social communications available in order to determine the ones best suited for evangelization in Africa today. Every institute is able to evaluate the effect of each of the means on individual members and on the community. For while it is necessary to know what the world around us is saying through the media, we must not allow it to monopolize our attention and dictate our conver-sational exchanges. Growth in religious commitment does not follow from an indiscriminate and sometimes imprudent use of the mass media, or with the exaggerated and extroverted activism the 3~uly-August 1992 515 Nwag-wu ¯ Women Religious and the African Synod media can generate, or with an atmosphere of dissipation which contradicts the deepest expectations of religious life. The search for intimacy with God needs silence, never involving noise and confusion.~s Presently, however, our discussion on the media is not how much we adopt them in our communities, but how well we use them for evangelization. Since the various means are each an effi-cacious tool for communication, the message of faith can be divulged to millions of our people at the same time with their aid. What prevents us, for example, from publishing a magazine that focuses on African religious life? Other Christian groups take the lead in the use of media while Catholics lag behind. Sacred songs and music on the thousands of audiocassettes that flood the market are ahnost always produced by Protestant evangelical groups. In the past there used to be a festival of the arts for Catholic schools. Now the competitions organized for parish choirs do not seem to generate the same interest. When an institute chooses to engage some of its members in apostolates using more contemporary methodologies, the initial difficulty will be lack of trained personnel. Requisite educational competence is important; however, some religious superiors are reluctant to send sisters for further studies that take time to com-plete and cause financial constraint, especially in the face of past disappointments. All the same, such reservation should give way before the conditions of our times and the needs of the church, which demand specialized training in some fields of study. No field of study can be superfluous if it furthers the mission of the institute. And since evangelization is a common mission for all, then adequate preparation is necessary for its realization. We cannot meet our contemporaries handicapped. For priests and religious to grow in requisite skills and maturity, it is essen-tial for them to receive the type of formation usually done in cen-ters of study at the university level or in institutes of higher studies. Specialized studies undertaken by religious should be prompted not by a misdirected desire for self-fulfillment with a view to achieving personal ends, but with the sole intention of meeting the apostolic commitments of the religious family itself in the context of the needs of the church.16 In view of the renewed call to evangelize, some significant changes may have to be made in the initial stages of formation. This sensitive area touches the autonomy and identity of insti- 516 Review for Religious tutes. Nevertheless, some general criteria may be adopted on the intercongregational level while the exact details can be left to the creativity of each institute. A rereading of the conciliar guide-lines for renewal shows that there is no question of simple adap-tations of certain external forms such as the habit. There is question, rather, of a deep edu-cation in attitude and in lifestyle that makes it possible to remain true to oneself even in the new forms of being present--a presence as con-secrated persons who seek the full conversion of people and of society to the ways of the Gospel through personal witness and service.~7 The challenges presented to religious women by the forthcoming synod will demand prayer, discipline, and sacrifice. It will not be easy to effect changes because part of the pattern of life and action we have grown used to will have to be renounced. Though renun-ciation may be spiritually rewarding, it is never gratifying to the ego. All the same, the changes need be made. The "signs of the times" are ripe and they offer us incentives to renew and revise our pattern of life and to give a preferential treatment to the duty of evangelization. The traditional ministries carried out in hospi-tals, schools, and social centers remain important, but their rel-evance in meeting the people of our times and engaging them in faith encounters has diminished. Women religious who are solidly founded in faith and suffi-ciently prepared and who can use their feminine qualities of devo-tion, refinement, faithfulness, and patience and their great capacity to adapt to the unexpected demands of real life can transform sit-uations which would intimidate others who lacked the weapons of faith and culture. In conclusion, let us remember the call of John Paul II and our obligation to respond to his invitation: We cannot meet our contemporaries handicapped. You have lived a first great stage, an irreversible stage. A new stage is open to you. It is no less an exalted one, even if it necessarily involves new trials, and perhaps the temp-tation of discouragement. It is the stage of perseverance, in which it is necessary to pursue the strengthening of the faith, the conversion in depth of souls and ways of life, so that they will correspond better and better to your sublime Christian vocation.18 July-August 1992 517 Nwag-wu ¯ Women Religious and the African Synod Notes i The exact date for the synod has not been set, but observers do not expect it to take place before 1994 or 1993 at the earliest. ~" Lineamenta, General Secretariat of the Synod of Bishops, Vatican City, 1990. 3 Luke 5:4. 4 Lumen Gentium §44. s Some congregations of women religious still have nonindigenous administrative personnel. 6 This includes the establishment of a local community in the area, which in turn requires.that a diocesan bishop invite the institute in ques-tion to his diocese. 7 Luke 22:32. 8 Paul VI, Evangelii Nuntiandi, §55. 9 Sacred Congregation for the Evangelization of Peoples, Dans le Cadre, The Role of Women in Evangelization, in Vatican Council H Postconciliar Documents, vol. 2, p. 322. l0 Paul VI, Inaugural Session of SECAM, Kampala, 1969. llJohn Paul II, Address to Zairean Bishops 3 May 1980, in Origins 10, no. 1, p. 6. 12 SCRIS, La Plenaria, The Contemplative Dimension of Religious Life, January 1980, §§ 2, 4, and 30. 13 Paul VI, Address at the 4th Plenary Assembly of SECAM, September 1975. 14 Paul V-I, Evangelii Nuntiandi, §58. is SCRIS, La Plenaria, §14. 16 SCRIS, Mutuae Relationes, §31 and §26. ~7 SCRIS, La Scelte Evangeliche, On Religious and Human Development, January 1981, §32. is John Paul II, Address to Priests and Religious, Zaire, 1980. 518 Review for Religious JENNIFER MARY ALT Rerooting Religi ous Life in South Africa the dialogue has been to develop a religious-life spirituality that would be less foreign and more of a special flowering and inter-pretation of African human and spiritual values. These values encompass all of human life. The spiritual is never seen as apart from the material, and people are seen as depending on other people, and therefore on the Divine, for life and meaning. Outside of their social relationships, individuals are less than nothing. If religious life became better integrated with native African spiri-tual values, it would witness more clearly and bring greater hope to South Africa's strife-torn people. Religious life is not foreign to Africa. In fact, its cradle is to be found in North Africa in the early centuries of Christianity. Organized religious life took its conception from the life and work of the Desert Fathers and was rooted in the form of Christianity found among the rural tribal people of North Africa. This rural tribal Christian expression was eventually declared heretical and has since been known as the Donatist heresy.- St. Augustine, the well-known urban African, a man cut off from his Jennifer Mary Alt OP, a member of the Cabra Dominican Sisters, is director of the Catholic Centre for Spiritual Growth sponsored by the Southern African Catholic Bishops Conference. With her doctoral research in cross-cultural personality studies, she has worked with religious in developing an African religious spirituality. She may be addressed at the Catholic Centre for Human and Spiritual Growth; P.O. Box 53 505; Troyeville (JHB); 2139 South Africa. ~uly-August 1992 519 Alt . .Re~roo~ng Religious Life cultural roots, was chiefly responsible for the suppression of the Donatists. Early North African Christianity was predominantly rural. These rural Christians had been formed by their own primal reli-gion. This religion revolved around being in harmony with the spiritual in life. The Ancestors--important good people who had died and who then lived on in spirit in the living--were seen as important mediators of the spiritual. Life among humans was seen as essentially social, and people got their meaning and pur-pose from living and working in harmony with other people. To be in a group was part of life. Over fifteen hundred years separate us from these earlier times, and Africa south of the Sahara is in a different position today. Yet it too moves from a very strong primal religious back-ground. In parts of Africa, for instance South Africa, much of the primal past has disappeared, but the beauty of its spirit remains. Unless one pays attention to it, one will find it difficult to under-stand the modern movements in religious life in Africa. A primal outlook on life in terms of human values is'a profound way of looking at it. The work of the Divine is easily seen in it. The connectedness between this outlook and the teachings of Jesus is easy to recognize. Unfortunately, modern religious life has been presented in Africa south of the Sahara as something foreign and Western, as something that has nothing to do with African values. In fact, African values had to be somehow discarded as one entered a reli-gious order. Westerners find the intricacies of life in Africa very difficult to understand and, without ill will, have misjudged much of what they saw, dismissing it as primitive and pagan. It is exceedingly important for people entering religious life to realize the continuity between the values they were given in their families and the values outlined in their religious rule. African religious largely see religious life as divorced from their past, as something quite other. They see the rules and regula-tions of religious living as something totally new which has to be learned. Because of this the rules of religious life remain largely outside of them. The rules have little effect on their feelings and attitudes. The result is that religious life tends to lose its mean-ing and become more a drudgery than a life-giving program. There is a saying which is practically ubiquitous in Africa. It runs in South Africa: "People are made people through other 520 Review for Religious people." In Swahili a similar saying is: "I am, you are, and because you are, I am." This circular statement sums up the insight which Africans have about people depending on one another and the insight that without people the individual is nothing. This aware-ness of dependence and interdependence is a far cry from the individualism of the modern. Western outlook. Dependence on God is the source of all spir-ituality and is clearly discernible in the African outlook. Africa has a strong belief in the spiri-tual life. Death is seen not so much as an ending, but as a passing into a spiritual way of being. In Africa everything material has its spiritual equiv-alent. In fact, nothing exists without its spirit. It follows that religious life is seen as essentially for the purpose of bringing people into contact with the Divine in a special way. If this does not happen, then religious life for the individual tends to remain on a material and self-centered level. The religious vocation is a call to a special relationship with the spiritual realm. Religious with their vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience are marked as essentially different from others, for they are in a sense outside the primal group of family, clan, and nation. They live in an area of liminality in life and in this area make contact with the Divine. Everywhere in Africa the call to the spiritual is treated with great respect and reverence. The call is seen as mysterious and very important. It is not questioned. Take, for example, persons who discern that they are called to be a sangorna, to be one who understands the relationship between the material and the Divine and who is specially equipped to interpret rifts that occur between the human and the Divine, rifts that are seen as the cause of all mental and physical illness. Such calls will not be dismissed lightly, and people will undergo rigorous training to equip themselves for their special task as a sangoma. The religious call is seen in this context. It also comes from the Ancestors of the family, and therefore no one should interfere with it. The Ancestors will protect the person so called. Africans believe that when outstanding members of the family or the nation die, they join the living dead. They live on in spirit in another member of the family. As a human being casts a shadow, so each human in the flesh represents the spirit of an Ancestor. A parent 'People are made people through other people.' 3n-uly-Augus~ 1992 521 who first refused to allow a daughter to enter a convent remarked on her behavior: "I was fighting with the Ancestors." In Africa the spiritual revolves around the Ancestors, who mediate the Divine in life. The blessing of the Ancestors needs to be invoked in all circumstances. This ancient method of prayer might seem fundamentalist to a Western person, but it suits many people in the indigenous churches. They invoke God in all cir-cumstances: when getting up in the morning, at the beginning of all jobs--nothing, in fact, is done without prayer to the Ancestors. MI church services center on asking the Ancestors for blessing and healing of any rifts between the living dead and the humans in the flesh. Prayer then centers on the spirit of reverence and respect: through prayer, healing and forgiveness are brought to ordinary human relationships, and rifts with the Ancestors are healed. In this way the negative effects in our lives are resolved, and we become healthy again. Religious in this context are people who are especially moved by the spirit, in a charismatic sense. Prayer then is warm, spon-taneous, and real. But if religious life is seen by Africans as a bureaucratic organization in which material advantages follow the keeping of the rules, even though many of the rules may cen-ter on saying prayers; then it remains outside the person and will not lead to a true conversion of heart. Young people who enter often see a religious house as a house protected by God. They see religious as being protected by God, and the convent as a place of shelter from the storms of life; God will protect the people whom he has called. Many young people enter to be protected from the violence in the streets. Young girls come to escape being raped. Parents send children to convents in order to prevent .them from joining gangs. As people turn to sangomas (the spiritual healers) to protect themselves from the chaos around them, so they send their young girls to convents for the same protection. They feel that no evil can enter a reli-gious house. They also feel that God protects his religious from economic disaster. Young people and their parents see religious houses as places where people will be educated, fed, and housed; as places where the chaos of grinding poverty and ignorance will be kept at bay. Religious will be protected from thes~ material disasters. It is essential in these circumstances to help young people, through self-reflection, to an acceptance of their African values in 522 Review for Religious the light of the Gospel values. This helps to bring about a con-version of heart in which the person is moved to choose Jesus and break out into the wider world of other people and their needs. Young persons, in answering their call, answer it on behalf of their entire family and the Ancestors whom they embody in their life. Therefore, when young people join a religious order, they do not come as mere individuals with little significance. They come as deserving of great respect. They are not alienated people of no back-ground. They are not nobodies. God calls people through an entire network of relationships. Young religious who respond are responsible, therefore, for answering the call of the entire network. This gives the religious a great sense of sup-port and responsibility. To know that one bears the spirit of a beloved grandmother or grandfa-ther in one's life makes the path less precarious, less lonely, and more meaningful. Second, it gives the religious a great sense of dignity and worth. Religious need to respect their own call, and others must respect it too. Without this sense of reverence and respect, the young reli-gious fails to have any sense of liminality. Religious life then becomes more a question of obeying external laws which do not touch the heart and of obtaining an education. Instead of reli-gious life being a development or an exploration of the spiritual, it can become monotonous and meaningless. When the crises come, as come they must, the religious will not choose Jesus, but will make an easier, more selfish choice. A common saying in Africa expresses this lack of conviction and choice: "That person is a Christian by day and an African by night!" A difficulty inherent in the above outlook arises when a reli-gious wishes to leave the convent. Leaving is looked upon as a disaster: the religious loses her ties with God. Her relationship with him is broken. It is in the light of this broken relationship that all future troubles will be judged. The following example is typical: A young'sister left a religious congregation and then failed to pass her nursing examination. She moved to teaching and was equally unsuccessful. This was seen to be the result of leaving the convent, not the result of lack of sufficient talent. It is important to stress, therefore, that the divine call arises out of our baptismal God calls people through an entire network of relationships. j~ly-August 1992 523 Alt . Rerootin Reli "ous Life call. It is this call that must be answered, whether it is lived out in the context of religious life or not. In Africa, to be in a group is part of life. The richness of the human exchange in a community enriches the individual. The individual who is not included in this exchange is drained of life, so to speak. Group living is full of all that is human. Contentment, excitement, joy, happiness, and security are part of that living as are tensions, fears, suspicions, and disharmony. But the underly-ing attitudes of loyalty and respect can keep a group together through major emotional upheavals. In Africa, people truly live community. In the West, people tend to theorize and talk about community, but find it difficult to live it. Both lifestyles have their problems. In Africa, people are meant to live in harmony with one another and with the Ancestors. The individual is meant to enrich the lives of others and to be enriched in return. A religious group thatis not living a life filled With the Spirit will tend to exhibit the spirits of discord and chaos. In such close-knit and complex living together, the individual can feel very vul-nerable. Fear of one another, fear of authority figures, is a natural component of such living. Unless the group is living in the Spirit, fear instead of acceptance and warmth can dominate the group. Community life is held back by fear. Individuals will keep quiet at community meetings, for example. Many opinions which could build up a community are not stated. This can lead to seri-ous mistakes being made. Superiors can go unchallenged and do irresponsible things. Individuals who choose to live a life which is not in accordance with their vows are also left unchallenged because others are afraid to say anything. Those who have this fear feel humiliated and inferior; they grow depressed; in the end, tension shows itself as an illness. Such fear of disharmony, of expressing conflicting opinions, can cause great problems to social and group life in Africa. If disharmony and conflicts arise, the group tends to split and quickly polarize. This process is very evident in the histories of many of the African Independent Churches. African political leaders have generally chosen a one-party style of government in order to avoid disharmony. In so doing they have introduced a totalitarian system which in practice is marked by tribalism and greed. Modern urban societies demand that we learn to live with some disharmony and difference of opinion. In fact, differences of opin- 524 Review.for Religious ion can lead to positive growth, for without differences adaptation to changing times and circumstances cannot take place. In Africa the method of handling differences is for the entire group to°come together and to discuss fully the pros and cons of the different opinions. In these long conversations each person is listened to, and the conversation does not end until consensus is reached. This is like methods of conflict management in the West. The Gospel message of Jesus enhances and brings to fruition the message which Africa can give our world in terms of the interdependence of humans and their dependence on the Divine. The message of Jesus is close to the heart of the African experience of human living together. The message of the great religious founders like St. Benedict finds spontaneous resonance in Africa. The message of religious life, which strives to express the values of the Gospel of Jesus, is not much different from African value systems. The message of Jesus helps people choose less selfish values. In Africa, choices are made according to how a person feels. They tend to be made in terms of present time. A person might, there-fore, at one time choose some abstract Christian value and at another time choose against the same value. But people who are moved by the Spirit choose more responsibly. For instance, peo-ple might not feel like helping when help is needed, but if they are filled with the Spirit, they will go against that feeling and help nevertheless. Or, again, people may feel like getting revenge by not sharing, but if they are filled with the Spirit, they will share. The transcendent message of Jesus helps people to consider beyond this present moment. Christians need to think about the consequences of present actions: Would the future be better, more Christian, as a result of choices we might make now? Often enough, thoughtless pragmatic choices can bring immediate sat-isfaction in terms of money, goods, or pleasant feelings, but the long-term effects of these choices can be extremly destructive. Africa is full of examples of people who pragmatically and selfishly participated in their own destruction. Africans took part in the slave trade. African leaders have greedily plotted the economic ruin of the countries they govern. Tribal rural people have taken The message of Jesus is close to the heart of the African experience of human living together. AI~ o R~'ng Reli ~ou~ monetary handouts from the West, which have led to the destruc-tion of their way of life and to a dependency on further hand-outs. Other cultures can be less utilitarian and selfish by taking their heritage very seriously and protecting it. The Chinese, .Japanese, and Indians have not allowed Western materialism and individualism free access into their cultures, and they have been less enthusiastic in terms of cooperating with the West. Africa can be rather like Esau, who sold his birthright for a mess of pot-tage, because Africa does not appreciate the richness of its social and spiritual heritage for itself and for the world. The message of.jesus builds deeper trust. Christ has through his death and resurrection conquered death and despair. He is above all spirits. He is above all ancestors. There is no need for Christians to fear curses or sangomas or their neighbor. Life for Christians is secure because .jesus has already overcome the spirit of death and chaos. .Jesus speaks a message of love of one's neighbor and of one's enemy. Christians have to consider people who do not belong to their group or clan as nevertheless belonging to the family of .Jesus. Such "outsiders" are not objects, and they must be treated with love and respect. In this way the Christian message brings peace to the troubled area of ethnic and tribal violence--some-thing which has brought misery and death to many millions in Africa and has impoverished whole nations of people. If Christ's message is allowed to bring to fruition the values which the African people received from-God through the Ancestors, much that is unauthentic can be removed from African life even as its contact with the West increases. 526 Review for Religious ALBERT DI IANNI Religious Life and Religion Some recent discussions on "refounding" religious life in which I participated were passionate and at times ended in discord. Admittedly the groups involved were tired and overworked, but this was not the whole explanation. The heat manifested in exchanges about potential cures for the ills of contemporary religious life springs from a deeper source, from a basic disagreement about the nature of Christianity and of religion. When I first encountered the notion of"refounding" currently in vogue, I welcomed it as an improvement over "renewal" because it seemed to demand a deeper conver-sion and a more radical rebuilding. It brought to mind the Carmelite reform at the hands of Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross through an inventive retrieval of the spirit and discipline of the founders. Refounding seemed to invite us to set out once again upon a religious adven-ture demanding both great sacrifice and an engagement with the world that remained in some way separate from the world. Resistance to the notion mounted, however, with the repeated calls to identify "change agents" in the group who might encourage creativity in ministry and develop alternative community lifestyles. The more speakers lim-ited their discussions to talk about "delivery systems" for Albert DiIanni SM serves as vicar general of the Society of Mary (Marist). His address is Via Messandro Poerio 63; 00152 Rome; Italy. living religiously ~-uly-dug~_st 1992 527 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Religion change, namely, leadership models derived from anthropology and from corporate-reflection techniques borrowed from busi-ness psychology--the more they discussed only means--the more I felt I was being bundled down some primrose path. Before I discuss means, I want to discuss goals; before I accept help to move forward, I want to determine where I, where we, should want to go. This is possibly because I suspect that I do not want to go where some speakers want to lead me or that their advice about means carries some hidden freight about goals with which I do not concur. In a recent conversation about refounding, I found myself suddenly compelled to ask some strange, basic questions, not about religious life but about religion: What, for you, constitutes the heart of the Christian religion? What is its basic meaning or purpose? What engenders religion in the first place? Such ques-tions came to mind because I suddenly realized that our dis-agreement lay at a deep level, that we could not simply assume we would all answer such fundamental questions in the same way. This was not because anyone had expressly denied any belief which I held, but becaus{ they seemed to deflect or sidestep cer-tain ideas as old-fashioned or not in line with the particular action steps being recommended. The urge to ask fundamental questions comes upon me espe-cially when I sense that religion is being reduced to sociology, psychology, or even to morality, be it personal, social, or ecolog-ical morality. In fact, any tendency to reduce religion to morality fires me up more than sociological or psychological reductions because it is more subtle and plausible and thus more seductive. But let me put my own cards on the table. What do I believe is at the heart of the Christian religion? (I will ignore the eso-teric distinction drawn by some between faith and religion and the theory that Christianity is not a religion but.a faith.) Though Christianity like other religions is an amalgam of many compo-nents, I believe that its strictly religious aspect lies in its being an answer to the experience of human contingency and the con-tingency of the world. Most people at some time in their lives have felt wonder that the world exists at all and have faced into the void of their own death. They moved beyond the taken-for-grant-edness of the world and became frightened by the thought that nothing at all might have existed and no possibility of anything. They wondered if there were an ultimate meaning to life or if 528 Review for Religious humans were but a sport of nature. Christianity's central doctrine is that the world need not have existed and that it was the object of creation by a good God. A Christian believer is convinced that at the center of the universe is not a surd but a personal Love. The philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein was not a believer. Norman Malcolm, his former student and biographer, says that he could not be called a religious person, but that he was passionately interested in religion and always seemed close to the possibility of religion. Wittgenstein once produced two examples of what he consid-ered bona fide religious experiences as opposed to moral or aesthetic ones. He respected them even if he thought that in entertaining them he was running up against the limits of language. One was the experi-ence of uncanniness that the world exists at all. The second was the conviction he some-times had that, whatever might happen, he would be safe. Neither of these experiences points of necessity to the existence of some transcen- The urge to ask fundamental questions comes upon me when I sense that religion is being reduced to sociology, psychology, or even to morality. dent reality, but they provide, the experiential ground from which many people move to affirm the existence of God. In such feelings and experiences, the affirmation that God exists is existentially grounded, becomes more than an intellectual proposition, takes root, finds a home. The first experience is the sense that a fleet-ing world must be rooted in a stable fundamental Reality. The second bespeaks a trust that cannot be explained without the pres-ence of a loving center of the universe. My own thoughts about religion center on experiences of this type. Admittedly my idea of religion has strong mystical over-tones; it is our response to radical contingency and, in its most primitive and deepest meaning, has little to do with morality. Religion refers primarily to a "holy" space out of which we and the world spring and gives rise to the imperative that each of us become holy, living our life in and for God. Beyond this I know that religion and morality are intimately intertwined and that a religious or holy person must also be morally good. One can hardly be holy and evil. Holiness means in part being extraordinarily kind, socially just, honest, temperate, a ~dy-Augvmt 1992 529 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Religion peacemaker. Yet it cannot be reduced to the practice of these moral virtues. For it is conceivable that someone could be morally good, could follow punctiliously the rules of a moral system, fos-ter social justice, be chaste and kind, and yet not be a religious per-son. He or she could be moral out of personal taste, by temperament, for aesthetic reasons, or out of natural sympathy toward others, and not because of his or her relationship to God. Philippa.Foot, an Oxford moral philosopher and avowed atheist, once told a seminar group that she was such a moral person and that she refused to be patronized by being called an "anonymous Christian." A Christian religious person not only acts morally, but also sees the world in a new way--that it is dependent for its very existence on a transcendent reality and that this makes all the dif-ference. Because it is focused upon the transcendent, the Christian vision has specific ethical implications different from Enlighteflment theories which place the human person or freedom at the center of the moral endeavor. For the Christian the pri-mary response to the world is not that of owner and Promethean creator, but of humble and obedient creature; not an entrepreneurial relishing of power and freedom, but a Marian gratitude before God for all that God has wrought. From this Christian gratitude is born the imperative to love God and God's creation, to allow God to express the divine mercy through us, especially toward the weak and the abandoned. This Christian gratitude and its ethical implications are nourished and deepened through a close union with God in prayer. It is this vision, it seems to me, which should be at the heart of the life of consecrated religious. If they are to be prophetic, it is in this: that in their lives they point constantly to the tran-scendent moment of the universe and try to develop what it means. It is up to each group to decide how it will express this. Christian meaning exists in--and is to be found in--religious sis-ters, brothers, and priests when they are rapt in contemplation of God as well as when they are picking up dying persons from the streets. When people see one of them unremittingly engaged in both, they believe they are in the presence of a saint. Some contemporary Catholic lay people and members of reli-gious congregations seem to have lost sight of the transcendent pole of Christianity. Their model of Christianity has become what Charles Davis labels "pragmatic." The pragmatic version of 530 Review for Religious Christianity arose, he says, when "the Christian religion ceased to function mythically as an overarching totality . The emphasis therefore shifted to Christianity as a practical way of life or eth-ical system. This is still conceived in religious terms, such as the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of God's children, the kingdom of righteousness . But all these expressions are different ways of formulating the moral imperatives gov-erning human existence." ~ Both conservatives and liberals have made this pragmatic shift in Christianity. Conservatives stress per-sonal and family morality and such questions as abortion and euthanasia, and progressives stress social justice, ecology, and women's rights. Future historians may judge that the Vatican itself, but to a lesser degree, has been drawn into what I am characterizing as an overemphasis of morality. They may well remember Pope John Paul II as the "morality pope" because of his repeated statements about both per-sonal and social morality. In practice if not in theory, love of neighbor and enemy seem to have taken precedence over con-cern about union with God. Today's heresies all seem to be moral heresies. Not many Catholics seem concerned about dogmas, about trinitarian, soteriological, or Christological errors. And yet the history of the early church reveals that this was not always so. (I am at times tempted to fashion a brand-new trinitarian heresy to spur people to think more about God and less about themselves!) In this excessive emphasis on morality, the modern church reflects our secularized times, the age that mistook the world for God. In the late sixties, a time noted for its air of revolution, our seminary faculty once gathered the seminarians for a discussion on the question: W'hat are the most important qualities for being a priest and religious today? Some suggested approachability, oth-ers learning and competence, still others kindness or some other human virtue. I was surprised that no one spoke of holiness--a sure candidate just ten years before--and I pointed this out to Someone could be morally good, could follow punctiliously the rules of a moral system, foster social justice, be chaste and kind, and yet not be a religious person. ~dy-August 1992 531 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Religion the group. One of the seminarians fixed me with a stare and said with an air of disdain: "Just be human, Father!" Recently I had the pleasure of interviewing Kiko ArgOello, the Spanish layman and artist who founded the Neo- Catechumenate movement, which offers a series of steps, a way, for modern Catholics to rediscover their baptism and be com-mitted to evangelization. I played the devil's advocate and asked whether his way (camino) of training lay people over a period of years did not produce an arrogant elite and end up creating more division than unity in parishes. His answer was in strict contrast to the seminarian's. He insisted that becoming a Christian today was not easy, regardless of what many priests trained since Vatican II seemed to believe. It did not suffice to simply shout the love slo-gan. Belief that God exists and that Jesus is in some way the son of God was difficult in a secularized culture. Besides, our world of drugs and violence, suburban adultery and abortion, euthana-sia and consumerism, was full of snares. It would not be suffi-cient simply to limit our preaching to a form of positive reinforcement. People had to be called to a public confession of their belief in God and Jesus, be brought to a felt need for con-version, be tested in their resolve, b~ supported by a tightly knit community, and be nourished by an adequate participative' liturgy. Needed, in his view, was a method, a way, a structure, a catechu-menate, 'to bring people squarely before their baptism and its implications for their lives. In so many words he was saying that it was simplistic for the 1968 seminarian to have said: "Just be human, Father." Yes, Christ is at work in the world wherever human good is being done, and we have to recognize and foster such work wher-ever we find it; but we must be aware, too, that fostering human-istic values and being a Christian are not in every way identical. Besides demanding that we be thoroughly moral, Christianity demands belief in many strange things, like the incarnation, the need for redemption, the resurrection, the presence of Jesus in the Eucharist, and the role of Mary. For a time in my adolescence, I wished I had been brought up neutral vis-~a-vis religion so that at the age of twenty-one I might consider all the major religions and choose among them without the prejudice of early Catholic training or brainwashing. But I know now that this is naive, for I have recognized that young people who have not been brought up in any religion end up by 532 Review for Religious having no religious sentiment or religiosity. They tend to remain religion-neutral, unable to make a choice in favor of any religion. George Lindbeck, a Protestant theologian, believes that, unless some religion is taught to us when we are young, unless we are brought up in some religious prac-tices, we might not even be capable of religious experience. This may be exaggerated, but I am sure it contains a grain of truth. One thing is certain: People are never brought up in a vac-uum of vision and values. If they do not absorb religious vision and val-ues, they absorb the secular vision and religion-neutral values of the movies and television. Especially in Europe several new lay Christian movements and reli-gious orders have been born in full awareness of this: the Focolarini, the Sant' Egidio community, the Neo- Catechumenate, the Lion of Juda, the Legionaries of Christ, and so forth. They all believe that becoming Christian in a secularized world is especially difficult and demands a way, a method, an entry through a kind of Christian subculture. It means leaving behind a lot of things that can seem very important from the world's point of view, but really are not. It demands kenosis, emptying oneself, in preparation for a radical decision in favor of Christ and God. Karl Rahner once declared: "A Christian in today's world will be a mys-tic or else he will not exist." And he went on to speak of mystagogy, the need of a method to lead people to see everything in God. I believe that one reason why religious congregations are in a mere survival situation today is that, in their admirable effort to take a positive view of the world, they have identified religion too strongly with a humanistic morality that tends to be secular-istic, individualistic, and overly egalitarian. History shows that almost all religious congregations enjoyed strong growth at their beginnings. They were exciting and attractive in part because they were new, but part of their attraction lay elsewhere. The early members had a sense of a religious adventure and cause larger than themselves which rendered them willing to forgo many personal rights and privileges.~They were members of what Besides demanding that we be thoroughly moral, Christianity demands belief in many strange things, like the incarnation, the need for redemption, the resurrection. July-August 1992 533 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Religion have been called "intentional" communities as opposed to various "associational" and "bureaucratic" ones that have come into exis-tence since Vatican II.2 They were quite unconcerned with self-expression and equality, not because they were naive and subservient (today's caricature), but because they were caught up in a higher religious vision that enhanced and focused their ener-gies for God and the church. Most religious congregations were founded for three main purposes, the salvation of the members, the salvation of others, and dedication to a devotion or a way of the apostolate. Their charism did not lie only in the third element but in all three. Their purposes were decidedly religious and eschatological as well as incarnational. Today the eschatological has been pushed aside by an incarnational theology interpreted too secularistically and humanistically. Transcendent themes have been toned down in favor of an emphasis on egalitarian rights, on a type of justice interpreted not only as equity but as evenness, a kind of unifor-mity without differences. Everyone knows that only in unity is strength. But egalitarianism, by its very definition, effects an atomism and separateness within a group inasmuch as it deems individual rights and desires more important than the group's religious cause and adventure. Such stress upon egalitarian and humanistic ideals is an ide-ology. It is one way--and only one way--of interpreting democ-racy and justice in society and in religious groups. To oppose that ideology is not to give up democracy but to give it another inter-pretation. This was brought home to me recently as I overheard a conversation between an Mnerican priest--a born-again egali-tarian- and a young female member of the lay Sant' Egidio com-munity in Rome.3 Describing how the community functioned, she mentioned that in her particular community, because of its makeup and history, only certain men and no women were asked to speak at the prayer services. The American priest objected that this was a grave error, that it was supremely important--as a sym-bol and sign to others if not for her personally--that women be allowed to preach in every community. She answered that the Sant' Egidio community did not approach questions ideologi-cally, but pragmatically. Some of the other communities did have women preachers, but because of its particular history and tal-ents, her group preferred not to have them and she was happy with things as they were. She explained that for the Sant' Egidio 534 Review for Religious group three things were of paramount importance: (1) prayer together over the word of God, (2) friendship or mutual support, and (3) work for and with the poor. All else must cede before the achievement of these goals. The American priest's voice rose as he insisted that she was wrong and that the American interpretation of women's rights was correct. But she stood her ground and deftly changed the sub-ject. We have come full circle. In the 1960s, after many years of repression and an exaggerated supernaturalism, we needed to stress personal free-dom and responsibility and a true equality among the races and sexes. We had to recognize our duty before God to take responsibility to build up a world of justice and peace. But this did.not mean that such concerns should come to prevail in reli-gious congregations and sweep all else away in their wake. Now that we have seen the shadow side of such emphases in religious life, we can bet-ter take stock and rediscover that our involvement with the world must begin beyond the world. While the psychological and political agendas were very important for religious life, neither of them was the "one thing necessary." Religious life should center upon that in Christianity which relates our lives to the transcendent. It is here that we must seek its prophecy. It is in reminding people of the divine enchant-ment of the world that it must be countercultural. It is upon this that reflection on refounding religious life must insist. In her arti-cle "Religious Life and the Need for Salt,''4 Joan Chittister asks the right questions regarding contemporary religious life. She wisely concludes that the project of encouraging self-expression in traditionally repressed religious has now been achieved. She says we must now move to questions about the group and how it can be prophetic in today's world. But her answers, giving her interpretation of prophecy, are still too much centered on ecology, social assistance, and human rights and thus, by remaining within a pragmatic model of Christianity, seem but another reiteration of the program of liberal politics. These liberal concerns are impor-tant and must be addressed by the church: the laity, the clergy, and the religious. But addressing such issues, in my opinion, is not going to be the salvation of religious life. Its problems do not 'A Christian in today's world will be a mystic or else he will not exist.' .July-August 1992 535 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Relig4on arise from a neglect of them. Religious lack, not moral outreach, but religious centering. They fail to realize what the poor them-selves realize and express in their popular religions, that our union with God through Jesus is central, that we must work at it, and that it is primarily in this that we will be countercultural. Which is more countercultural--to say we must strive to save planet earth or to say we truly believe that the dead are with God because Jesus rose from the dead and that this makes all the difference? I have made some hard remarks and asked some hard ques-tions, and I would welcome a dialogue about them. I am sure I have not expressed them adequately, but I am convinced that they contain at least a grain of truth. I am encouraged in uttering them by the swing of young people in both Europe and North America toward an interest in the mystical sense of religion. In the 1960s the young were caught up in the humanistic values of psychol-ogy and sociology, but today's youth exhibit a great interest in mysticism, religious cults and movements, apparitions and heal-ings, the afterlife; and even reincarnation and the satanic. Does this not indicate that they are experiencing a deep void of mean-ing in an anorexic and bulimic world where money, notoriety, power, individualism, and equality have become the primary val-ues? Does not this cultural change signal that secular humanism for all its ethical achievements has also been an impoverishment by reason of a dearth of religious imagination? Is it not a sign of the times when people living in sophisticated technological cul-tures begin to be attracted to religious beliefs interpreted in a most .simplistic fashion? I know the good responses to the distinction I draw within Christianity between morality and religion. Most will describe it as dualistic--for contemporary pundits the most damning of epi-thets. They will say, "You are separating things that are essen-tially linked." Love of God and love of neighbor are two aspects of the same thing. If you do not care for the person you see, how can you say you love the God you do not see? Those who love God should find their love's primary expression in their dedica-tion to caring for their neighbor, whether friend or enemy. Prayer is missionary and missionary activity is prayer--and on and on. Others will say that I give a false description of the present sit-uation of religious life; they will deny that those engaged in social justice and ecology tend to pray less and to be less interested in the transcendent, in sacraments, and in the eschatological. 536 Reviezv for Religious I know these rejoinders are partly true, but also that they are partly false. I know that the two aspects of Christianity, religion and morality, love of God and love of neighbor, are very closely intertwined, and I am aware of Karl Rahner's brilliant attempt to conjoin them.5 But I know too that they are conceptually distinct because I have seen them separated in the history of the church. At times the church has experienced the extreme of quietism, an overem-phasis on faith without good works, and other times the heresy of action, a hectic involvement in important works of justice and charity to the detriment of prayer and interiority, the soul of the apostolate. It is up to each of us to examine our life to determine where we are. But I am convinced that the problems of religious life stem only partly from a lack of adequate delivery systems and from ignorance about psychol-ogy, social systemics, and anthropo-logical models in an age of rapid change. I am convinced that their deeper source lies in the confusion between religion and morality and in an insistence upon moral-ity because of a loss of faith and interest in religion. If Christian religion is centered almost exclusively upon doing the moral good, upon promoting social justice and ecology, or upon fighting pornography and abortion, then what is the mean-ing of doctrines and dogmas? Are they but religious, accouter-ments? If so, why not be honest and simply drop them? What is the meaning of the redemption through Christ for a religion reduced to morality? What is the meaning of the Eucharist? Are these dogmas and sacraments only stimuli for action, stories and symbols subtly swaying us to do what is truly important: foster-ing the construction of a socially just and ecologically sound world, creating the. kingdom of morality? Is the resurrection just a story whose real cash value is all those smaller resurrections which can occur in a society, in history, or in each human life? How is a religious congregation which centers so strongly on morality to be differentiated from such groups as UNICEF or the Which is more countercultural - to say we must strive ~ to save planet earth or to say we truly believe that the dead are with God because Jesus rose from the dead and that this makes all the difference ? ~dy-Augzlst 1992 537 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Religion A life steeped in prayer will produce something we may have lost: a solid number of holy men and women whose life clearly is centered on God. FAO wherein men and women devote themselves to humanitarian causes at times for wages far lower than they could obtain else-where? I know that, since Vatican II, theologians including Rahner and Schillebeeckx have highlighted the thesis that Christ is at work in the world wherever good is. being done and humane causes are fostered. I am acquainted with the theories that the work of building up the kingdom of God is primarily a matter of our present life in the world, that salvation is not only after death but begins here, that the glory of God is man and woman fully alive. I am in sympathy with such emphases, but must also admit that they do not set me on fire; and judging from the vocation statistics of "progressive" congregations, I know that they have not stirred the young. For in my heart I suspect that such emphases are quite incomplete and were (in part) born of a loss of faith in the transcendent. For me Christianity centers not on us but on God. It demands a different vision of the world and reality, which generates a humble gratitude to the God who is responsible for all that is. One of Christianity's concerns is our inborn tendency to distort our freedom, arising from what Luther called the "in-curvedness" of our will. Christianity is about God and sin and the need for God's grace-ful hand to help us make proper use of our freedom. Christian religion must be about God and our relationship with God not only implicitly but also explicitly. It is from a union with God in prayer that light will emanate on how we are to relate to God, the world, and each other. And if a life is to be devoted to religion in a special way, if it is to be a consecrated religious life, it must be lived primarily in view of this relationship to God, not only in ideal but also in structure. It must be structured in such a way that the life of,the group abets in its members this concern about each one's relationship to God and gives witness of it to others. Such a life steeped in prayer will produce something we may have lost: a solid number of holy men and women whose life clearly is centered on God. If this proves true, young people will surely again be attracted to this kind of life, not so much because 538 Review for Religious it is relevant or more interesting than the world, but simply because religious life so construed and so lived is what it purports to be--religious. Notes ~ What is Living, What is Dead in Christianity Today? (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1986), p. 39. -' See Patricia Wittberg SC, Creating a Future for Religious Life (New York: Paulist Press, 1991

Issue 47.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1988. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The edito-rial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO. 63108-3393. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. ©1988 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: U.S.A. $12.00 a year; $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail, add $5.00 per year; for airmail, add $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read M. Anne Maskey, O.S.F. Acting Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors Sept./Oct. 1988 Volume 47 Number 5 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to R~.wEw EOR R~.LtGWOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave., Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW ~o~t REI.IGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. The Social Dimensions of Religious Ministry Joseph P. Daoust, S.J. This is a slightly revised version of Father Daoust's well-received address on August 13, 1986, to the thirtieth national assembly of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men. He has been his province's assistant for social ministries and higher educa-tion. At present he is on sabbatical in Africa and Asia and has no fixed residence, but he may be addressed at Jesuit Provincial Office; 7303 W. Seven Mile Road; De-troit, Michigan 48221. In a terrifying image of where our civilization is leading us, a prominent Italian writer envisions Western 'man (and woman) becoming like an earth-worm: a simple organism having only mouth, intestines, and anus, do-ing nothing but ingesting, digesting, excreting. ! It is an image of pro-ducing in order to consume, and consuming mindlessly in order to move what has been produced through our societal '.~'gut." Any kind of con-sumption will do, just as the earthworm moves any kind of soil through its intestinal tube. Indeed, that is how the earthworm (and Homo con-sumens) moves ahead in dark, dank, endless underground burrows-- consuming, producing, excreting. When indigestion sets in because of overproduction, war serves as a purgative,°consuming the detritus of ex-cess lives and goods, relieving the constipation of our maniacally pro-ducing and consuming system. Such is one vision of what we are doing to ourselves as a society. There is another vision of what society can become: [God] will reign over many peoples and arbitrate for mighty nations; and they shall beat their swords into pl6wshares,.and their spears into prun-ing hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more. But they shall sit, everyone under his vine and un- 641 649 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 der his fig tree, and none, shall make them afraid; for the mo~th of the Lord of hosts has spoken it (Mi 4:3-4). In this vision, peace comes when each peasant has enough of the earth's goods for simple sustenance and can sit in quiet contemplation of the goodness of a just and beautiful world. All of this is achieved by learning God's ways and walking in God's path.2 Neither of these visions is fully realized in our world today. There are forces at work leading toward the first; the Spirit of God continues the age-old struggle to draw us toward the second. We are called as citi-zens of this age, as Christians, as religious, to invest our lives in help-ing our society make the ancient Deuteronomic choice: "I set before you life or death, blessing or curse. Choose life, then, so that you and your descendants may live" (Dr 30:19). Life is what the reign of God would bring about in our midst; the flowering of a society of justice and peace. The reign of God has profound social consequences. Justice and God's Reign: Scriptural Considerations in Scripture the reign of God is inextricably linked with social trans-formation. When Israel came to know Yahweh, it was as a God who heard their groaning in slavery and delivered them out of bondage (Dt 10:18-19). Remembering their own deliverance by God, the Israelites were bound in covenant not to oppress the poor or weak in their midst (Ex 22:21ff.). For Yahweh is a God who hears the cry of the poor (Ps 34:6). Again and.again Yahweh intervened through the prophets to call Israel back to this elemental demand: Is not th'is the sort of religious p?actice that pleases me?--it is thb Lord Yahweh who speaks--to break unjust fetters and Undo the thongs of the yoke, to let'the oppressed go free., to share your bread with the hun-gry and shelter the homeless poor, to clothe the man you see to be na-ked and not turn from your own kin? Then will your light shine like the dawn and your wound be quickly healed over. Your in.tegrity will go be-fore you and the glory of Yahweh behind you (Is.58:6-8; see also 1: 16, 10:1, 42:5). The religions and gods of the ancient Near East were primarily con-cerned with the legitimation of the established order of things3 (a func-tion still all too current today!), Imperial power, divinely ordained class structures, codes of behavior which reinforced "the way things have al-ways been"--these were the trappings of (eligions whose gods could be captured in images, located in certain sacred places, and therefore con-trolled. The divine power was thus subject to purchase (propitiation), Social Dimensions of Ministry / 64:3 able to be administered and routinized so as to support society's estab-lished ways of proceeding. Israel in the Old Testament is constantly tempted to refashion God in controllable images. Royal leaders and wealthy classes are portrayed as the initiators of this "whoring after' other gods" so as to legitimate their oppression, wars, and sumptuous ways. What distinguishes ancient Israel from surrounding societies is the constant intrusion of an imageless God, who refuses to dwell in temples or in"gold idols fashioned and controlled by the powerful. Yahweh dwells only ineffably on high, and with the lowly (Is 56: 15). Israel's God is dis-engaged from the ways of worldly power and identifies over and over again with the marginal, the dispossessed in society.'~ Indeed the iden-tity of this imageless God cannot be captured in traditional religious ways, but is expressed only by what Yahweh does--primarily acts of so-cial liberation: I am Yahweh . . . who delivered you from bondage (Ex 20:1), who loves j,ustice (Ps 99:4), who sees justice done for the orphan and widow, who answers the poor and needy (Ps 86:1 ), who chooses the weak (Dt 7:7), who reduces princes to nothing, and annihilates the rulers of the world (Is 40:23). Jesus spends his public ministry extending the good news of God's compassion and reign to all. It was a scandal to his contemporaries that he especially~ included suspect classes (shepherds, publicans, tax collec-tors), social outcasts (lepers, prostitutes, adulterers, Samaritans), and the poor. He went to his death coffsciously assuming the role of the Suffer-ing °Servant of Yahweh, knowing that this was the only way to bring about the reign of his Father. Some sought his death because he reso-lutely presented an unconventional, iconoclastic face of God Ioying the outcast, the db'wntrodden, the poor--"He has blasphemed.'~ Others sought his death because' his proclamation of God's justice threatened the social order.5 The Scriptures, then, portray a God who cares passionately about jus-tice, indeed even a "pain-embracing" God6 who acts in solidarity es-pecially with the oppressed and the marginalized. Christ in his ministry and message seals this revelatioh of God constantly acting in the world so as to bring about its transformation. The Gospels close with Christ risen inviting us down through the ages to "Follow me." Justice and God's Reign: Cultural Considerations Down through the ages the Church has wrestled with that impera- 644 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 tive with varying degrees of success. Like the Israelites of old, the Church is often tempted to replace the radical, transforming call of the Gospel with something more palatable to the cultural and social powers that be. Oppressive divisions of wealth and power, wars to protect these divisions, sumptuous living for some and dire poverty for others--these still need legitimation as of old. The idols which legitimate today are ide-ologies, social and economic theories, materialism and consumerism apo-theosized as a way of life. Idolatry in a literate society is more likely to use words than precious metals to achieve its effects. But religion is still being domesticated so as to legitimate and maintain, rather than confront, these idolized patterns of injustice. One hundred fifty years ago, Alexis de Tocqueville visited America and found our culture and social institutions permeated with a new idea: Individualism is a calm and considered feeling which disposes each citi-zen to isolate himself from the mass of his fellows and withdraw into the circle of family and friends; with this little society formed to his taste, he gladly leaves the greater society to look after itself . They form the habit of thinking of themselves in isolation and imagine that their whole destiny is in their hands . Each man is forever thrown back upon himself alone, and there is danger that he may be shut up in the solitude of his own heart.7 This individualism intersected congruently, then as it does now, with the competitive pursuit of self-interest, defined in terms of material well-being. But de Tocqueville found these social "habits of the heart" coun-terbalanced and modulated by a strong tradition of biblical faith, with its emphasis on self'-sacrifice for the common good, supported by the re-publican virtues of our early democracy: public duty and civic equity. Modern commentators have found these modulating forces to be with-ering, and individualism, competition, and rampant pursuit of material self-interest becoming exclusive social preoccupations.8 Individualism, like any other human creation, has much to recommend it, much human value. But when it becomes absolute, unquestioned, unfettered, it dis-torts and truncates human interaction. Its idolization creates and sustains injustice in society on a mass scale. Recent studies of American life and religious values have shown the distortions that unfettered individualism produces ir~ our cultural patterns of faith and religion.9 Historically., the disestablishment of religion America may have helped compartmentalize religious faith away from public social concerns. But religious individualism has been the moving force for the privatization of religious faith and practice. Social and cul- Social Dimensions of Ministry / 645 tural patterns of our society have been immunized from religious critique or challenge in the faith of many. Religion is felt to deal only with per-sonal or family issues; it intersects with public policy only to challenge it if' it intrudes on these narrow issues. Other social policies and struc-tures, individualism itself, materialism, the competitive economic envi-ronment- all are beyond the competence of religious critique. God and faith have no relevance in the marketplace, the business or political world, or anywhere outside the "soft" inner realm of the personal and the familial. In fact, religion blesses "the way things are" in these secu-lar real-world social settings. It legitimates them and the results they bring about, as effectively as the compartmentalization of religion to tem-ple worship and sacrifices did in ancient Israel, with consequent uncon-cern for the oppressed, the hungry, the poor. Religion is seen culturally by most as an idiosyncratic choice, a strictly personal preference or conviction as to which "brand" each per-son would like to "consume." And American consumers of religion largely choose a faith distorted by cultural forces so as to give them res-pite from social chaos and from a sense of social destiny beyond their control. They do this by retreating inward, to focus on the inner self, or by retreating outward, to externally imposed structure coming, they be-lieve, directly from God. The first of these privatized patterns of religion, the dominant U.S. cultural preference, is the retreat inwards to the inner self. ~0 Personal ex-perience of one's inner self is the one secure basis for religious mean-ing. Self-realization, personal growth, is the highest aspiration. There is a great similarity to the goals and language of psychological therapy. Re-ligious practice is spiritual utilitarianism: "What's in it for me?" Spiri-tual experience is primarily individual and prescinds from the world and its problems. The world and even God are seen in terms of their impact on this inner self. Morality is individualistici commitments to others, to the world, are transient: "s(~ long as it feels right or helps me grow." The Church can be reduced to a kind of spiritual Kiwanis Club or psy-chological. therapy group in the individual's pursuit of self-fulfilling ex-perience. The second pattern of religious individualism is no less privatized. It is more prevalent among the less affluent, or among those whose self-image is not strong enough to found religious meaning there. Faith is placed in sources of meaning external to self and the real world. God speaks from "outside'"the ordinary world (and the inner self), directly giving rules and tenets which, if they are rigidly adhered to, will bring 646 / Review~or Religious, September-October 1988 about salvat.ion of the obedient individuai--there is little hope for the world. Fundamentalist adherence to biblical texts, magistral father fig-ures, or traditions gives meaning and some sense of security in a bewil-dering social Order. Morality is personalistic rather than societal; it deals with interpersonal and family relations in clear, simple answers; it leaves unchallenged the sociocultural setting in which these are played out. The world, society at large, is either beyond question or beyond salvation. In either case, faith has little to say to it. ., Both of.these cultural patterns of religion, therapeutic withdrawal to the inner self and sectarian withdrawal to external structure, are the prod-uct of individualism. It is individualism retreating from confrontation with a chaotic, seemingly uncontrollable social environment. Material-ism, competitive pursuit of self-interest, ruthless power pervade the secu-lar realm of business, politics, the media. Recent rapid shifts in social structures and paradigms destabilize a cultural setting already inhospita-ble to traditional religious values. Individuals, frightened, isolated, pow-erless, withdraw from the imperatives of biblical faith which might re-quire them to confront these social forces to work for the new creation of God's reign. A religion of inner escape or outer control seems to of-fer a haven from the heartless world. But both forms of religion lack the ability to integrate the self and/or God with the surrounding society. Per-sonalized religious experience supplants the "mighty acts of Yahweh" as the basis for belief. And such faith is fragile, fading when the per-sonal experience fades. There is only a faint hold on commitments, to faith itself and to the other-centered giv.ing which builds on faith. Church, rather than being the fundamental sacrament of God's insertion into the world, becomes a community of convenience or of protection from the world. In solipsism or sectarian withdrawal, religion stands apart from worldly matters. It is a pale shadow of robust biblical faith: the faith of a people on mission from a world-transforming God. This description of American religious behavior is not just the way millions.of lay believers of all religious backgrounds practice their faith. These are tidal forces affecting the faith life of all of us as members religious orders and congregations. We are equally tempted to withdraw from the fullness of biblical faith into therapeutic blandness or rigid struc-turalism. We too can live more easily with these idolized forms of relig-ion, which neither do justice nor admit the injustice of such unconcern. Religious life itself can become an enclave for self-realization or secu-rity, safely compartmentalized away from the rigors of God's call and mission to a troubled world wracked by social sin. Which one of us has Social Dimensions of Ministry / 64"/ not felt keenly the longing to huddle, Jonah-like, even in the belly of a whale, rather than face Nineveh? Justice and God's Reign: New Directions But also in our lifetimes as religious, we have witnessed a remark-able movement of God's Spirit. It is transforming the Church and relig-ious life, calling us again to our biblical roots. The God who cares pas-sionately about this world, who hates idols and the injustice they le-gitimate, is neither absent nor sitting quietly in a culturally designed com-partment. Embracing the pain of the poor and the marginalized, God broods over our bent world "with warm breast and with ah! bright wings." ~ In Vatican II, the Church chose to position itself as a people in serv-ice to the world, seeking to transform it in the biblical image of God's justice. ~- The 197 ! Synod of Bishops specified this further: J~stice and participation in the transforming of the world fully appear to us ~s a constitutive dimension of the preaching of the gospel, or, 'in other words, of the Church's mission for the redemption of the human race and its liberation from every oppressive situation (Justice in the World, no. 6). The social teaching of the Church has gone~ beyond a reformist long-ing for organic, static society. In ,.magisterial teaching and theological de-velopment there is the commitment to struggle for and with the margi-nhlized to achieve justice. The spiritual is not compartmentalized from the affai'rs of this world, but integrated as a critical, driving force to shape '~'a new earth where justice will abide.''~3 In'theory and in prac-tice, from Medellin to the Philippines, in our inner cities and in recent pastoral letters of U.S. Bishops, we have witnessed the Church exercis-ing the ancient 'special love of Yahweh for the poor. ~4 Our challenging mission is newly clear, as are the many social forces which oppose it. It is the mission of our "pain-embracing" God, it is the mission of Christ see~king the reign of God.' It is fresh and new in our age, and as old as the prophets: "This is wfiat Yahweh asks of you, only this: to act justly, to love tenderly, and to walk humbly with your God" (Mi 6:8). What Justice Requires But what does it mean to do justice'? or to transform the world? or change social structures? The justice which flows :from faith in Yahweh has a dynamic, trans- 648 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 formative quality. Subtle philosophical distinctions may be appropriate for impartial, uninvolved observers. But there is a simplicity and stark-ness to biblical justice questions, which are raised in God's name from peasants (Amos, Micah), slaves (Moses), and exiles. ~5 The royal circles of Egypt, Jerusalem, or Rome are preoccupied with questions of pros-perity (how to get more) or security (how to keep it). The prophetic voices from below demand that freedom, sustenance, places of dignity in the community be given (back) to every one Of God's chosen people. Everyone has a right to these goods, as a birthright from God who cre-ated and gave them all to the community in the ~fi~:st place. God will act to make things right again if those in power will not listen. The primary expectation of God from Israel is the doing of justice, in this sense sharing with or restoration to those on the margin of society: the widow, the orphan, the stranger, the poor. Every other ethical norm or covenan-tal requirement flows from this reading of social reality. There is to be a redistribution of social power and goods to achieve a society where all can sit under their own vine and fig tree, with no one to trouble them. Or as gentle Mary puts it in Luke: "[God] has pulled down princes from their thrones and exalted the lowly. The hungry he has filled, with good things, the rich sent empty away" (Lk 1:52-53). The pastoral letter of the U.S. bishops, Economic Justice for All, contains an eloquent articu-lation of what justice requires in our times. The scriptural section of that letter is especially worth meditating upon, to touch i'nto our faith as the force which moves us to justice. The religious reality described there can be summarized as the community of the human race--the community in which and through which God creates each of us as individiaals-- building community. This community is given all of creation to enjoy, and God's love be-sides. In response, God asks in covenant that the community be com-mitted to care for one another, that they show the same resilient love (he-sed) and solidarity toward each other that God has Shown them, The touchstone of this solidarity, from the time of the prophets, has been whether the community cares for those at the margins of society, those without power to demand a share of what the community has been given by God. This preferential option for the poor is as ancient and as crucial to the covenant as Yahweh's earliest commands to Israel concern-ing the widow, the orphan, the stranger in the land (Ex 22:20; Dt 10:.18). In fulfillment of the covenant, the community needs to do more than distribute food and clothing to the poor~ It has to bring ,them in from the margins, allowing them to participate in the creative life of the commu- Social Dimensions of Ministry nity. Then they can provide for themselves in dignity and will no longer be marginalized. In this, the pastoral letter goes beyond the usual em-phasis, in Catholic practice, on works of charity. These are seen to be insufficient since the poor have a right to a creative place in society, not just to be passive recipients of our largess. Bringing the marginalized into full participation in community life will, of course, build up the community itself. It will then be more able to show solidarity to those still at the margin, bringing them into fuller participation, and so forth. The cycle of response to the covenant is also the cycle of the community regenerating and building itself up as a soci-ety of justice. The ~uli religious insight is that, in this dbing of justice to one another, God is made present, is found, is worshiped at the cen-ter of this communal re-creation. Faith and justice reinforce each other, even merge, as God moves us to transform our society. This cycle de-scribes positively how God cails us through justice to renew the face of the earth. But there is also resistance to the Spirit of God; it creates injustice in the structures of society and reverses the cycle of creating a commu-nity of justice. A community can tear itself apart by denying meaningful participation to the poor, ignoring the increasing masses of the margi-nalized, replacing communal solidarity with relentless pursuit of self-interest. This injustice the Spirit of God calls upon us to confront, for the Spirit "convinces the world concerning sin and justice and judg-ment" (Jn 16:8).~6 A practical example may clarify how social structures can resist trans-formation. Some one hundred fifty years ago, the Jesuits in Maryland owned slaves. When Jesuit authorities in Rome remonstrated with them over this situation, the American Jesuits responded that the slaves were being very well cared for and, indeed, would likelY suffer much worse if they wei'e given their freedom and turned loose in American society. The Jesuits of Maryland missed seeing the social structure--slavery-- which needed to be transformed, and focused on the personal dimension of care the slaves received. It seems so evident now, but to those en-meshed in the toils of unjust social structures, they often seem "natu-ral," "the way things are,", unquestionable and unconfrontable. The U.S. bishops of the last century were also unable to confront slavery as an institution until the Civil War settled the question for everyone. ~7 One wonders if the terrible price of that war would have been paid had the churches and religious .people of the land not resisted, by and large, the call of the Spirit to transform the structure of slavery. 650 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 While it is clear that God can work to bring good even from wars and great social cataclysms, this is not the way in which the Spirit of God desires to achieve the transformation of the world. The model of the Suf-fering Servant of Isaiah becomes normative for us in the cross of Jesus. Justice is a constitutive element of what the reign of God is about, but "suffering with" the poor, the oppressed, the marginalized is the man-ner of achieving God's jus.tice. We are called to follow our "pain-embracing" God, and our crucified Lord, in confr6nting the evil of this world. It is a manner far different from ou~ ordinary human institutions of violence, vengeance, and material power. God's ways are not ours, and God's just,~'ce cannot be fully achieved w. ithout a~lopting God's ways. Principles of Ministry for the Reign of God If I have been at all clear, it seems to me that two principles flow from what has been developed thus far. I would like to make these two principles explicit, go on to a couple practical strategies for implement-ing them, and then conclude with three sets of questions for considera-tion. What God has done for us and what God asks of us create a first prin-ciple. An essential part of the reign of God is justice, specifically the jus-tice which flows from living out a faith in Yahweh, faith in Jesus. There-fore, followers of Christ should have a concern for justice as a central focus of all their ministries. There are not justice ministries separate from other ministries, any more than there can be ministries separated from faith. Faith and justice are the complementary core of all Christian min-istry. Secondly, the "pain-embracing" love of God, especially inclusive of the marginalized in soc.iety, characterizes the ministry of Jesus "even unto death, death on a cross." The followers of Jesus are missioned to work for the reign of God in like fashion: through experiencing the strug-gle for justice "from below," at the sidle of the downtrodden, accept-ing the conflict or defeat which that entails, believing in the way of the Suffering Servant who is the Lord. Practical, Strategies The following suggestions are practical strategies for implementing these two principles. They are not new, but they might be helpful~ 1. Reflection on mihistry, and particularly on the justice dimension of ministry, should be based on experience. We experience the living God in ~'the joys and the hopes, the griefs and the anxieties of the men [and women] of this age, especially those who are poor or in any way Social Dimensions of Ministry / 651 afflicted.'? ~8 Christ dies and rises again for us in sharing the struggles and visions of real people. Experience draws us beyond ideologies and preconceptions; it energizes us for our quest for the reign of God. But the experience must be reflected upon. Stream-of-consciousness ministry may be personally vivifying, but it does not help us understand the social forces that create what we experience, or how we habitually respond. Social analysis can gradually remove the limitations of our cul-tural blinders and make us more critically aware of the social structures which must be transformed to "make clear the way of the Lord" (Mr 3:3). But so~zial analysis is often sterile, immobilizing, unless it is joined with faith and reflection on what God is saying to us. Relating both our experience and our analysis to the wellsprings of our own faith life en-ergizes us to act, and inspires us to discern how to act, for the reign of God. Our ministry is, then, m~ade reflective and revivifieO. And it gives us. further experience, which can be further reflected upon, leading to fur-ther inspiration and discernment. And so on. Many of you will recognize this process for reflection on ministry. It has been variously called the hermeneutic circle, the circle of praxis, or the pastoral cycle. 19 It is a methodology for moving steadily and re-flectively toward more authentic ministry. It may sound a little ominous at first, with terms like "social analysis" and '.'theological reflection." But it can be done very simply. It has been effective among illiterate peas-ants. 2° All of us ought to be able to do it. As a strategy for ongoing re-flection on ministry, it is.best when done communally, as a form of com-munal discernment. 2. In all ministries, there is the opportunity to experience the joys, hopes, griefs, and anxieties of ordinary people. But at least in orders like the Jesuits, most ministerial settings provide scant opportunity to come into contact with the poor and the marginalized. This should not mean that these ministries are exempt 'from the imperatives of justice-seeking or that they are unable to carry out ministry for the reign of God authen-tically. Ministries such as education or pastoral work with middle- and upper-class publics can seriously commit themselves to the work of con-scientization for the reign of God. These ministries deal with those who exercise power and influence over "the way things are"; their publics can bring about or at least come to tolerate changes in the social order which lead toward justice for the marginalized. It is a crucial element of the mission of all these ministries to communicate the call of the liv-ing God for solidarity, especially with the marginalized, and to urge con- 659 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 sistently that social injustices be transformed to bring about the reign of God. But particularly in these ministries, the lack of any lived experience of the poor or oppressed strengthens ct]ltural-religious tendencies toward therapeutic blandness or conformist externalism. We should attempt to build into these ministries, and into the lives of their publics, some ex-perience of real people living at the margins, victims of unjust social con-ditions. There are immersion programs, social-service projects, inte-grated discussion groups, and other forms of contact between people whom our social structures tend to isolate from each other. Such ex-periences will often be episodic, ephemeral, perhaps even seem voyeur-istic. But they can be honed to a finer edge of reality if they are carried out in cooperation with people who are in consistent, full-time ministry or presence among the poor. Within religious congregations we can leaven all our ministries by missioning some of our best people to ministry among the poor, asking them to share with all of us the insights and challenges of their lived ex-perience. The enlivening experience of God present at the margins can be corporate, shared by brothers or sisters in widely divergent ministries, if conscious efforts are made to foster such sharing. For this leavening to occur, it is important that the religious we mission to ministry among the poor be among our best, mainstream people willing and able to in-teract with a wide range of our corporate membership. My experience has been that we too often allow the lone rangers, the disaffected, the angry, or the difficult to wander off in ministry to the poor. Or we so isolate good folks sent into difficult ministries of social justice that they burn out quickly. As religious communities we can become more effec-tively present with the poor, with consequent enriching of all our apos-tolates, if we will take care to engage in such ministry corporately and reflectively. Mere presence among the marginalized does not guarantee any re-flective stance, in terms of either social analysis or theological reflec-tion. There is ample evidence of religious, ministering regularly among the poor, who never question the social structures which afflict their peo-ple. Or worse, they adopt a benevolent one-way relationship of "giv-ing" to the poor, rather than living with and learning from them about the reality of God. To counter these tendencies, itis helpful to be in con-tact with those engaged in the direct ministry of social change, challeng-ing some aspect of social injustice from an integrated faith perspective. As a full-time occupation, religious ministry for social change is rare Social Dimensions of Ministry / 653 this country. There is every indication that God's spirit is calling us, through the Church, to make it more prevalent. But it is unlikely to be-come a dominant mode of ministry in any religious congregation. That does not mean that a few good men or women could not be missioned, in each of the larger ~ongregations, to engage in this newly urgent min-istry. Not only will this serve social transformation for the reign of God; it can helpail our ministries become more competent to deal with the so-cial and theological questions most pressing in our society. Small or large religious congregations can relate to interreligious social-justice centers in most major cities of the United States. And individuals in any minis-try can become advocates of social change in one area or another, as par-ticipants in coalitions of concerned people devoting time and energy out-side their ordinary works to transforming society.2~ There should be no religious congregation so burdened with maintaining historical com-mitments that it cannot find ways to mission at least some key members to collaborative or part-time work for social justice, so as to leaven the entire ministry of the group. In this strategy, then, every ministry can participate in some level of social action for the reign of God: conscientization of the more afflu-ent and powerful, ministry of presence and social service among the marginalized, direct ministry for social change of unjust social structures. Having all three levels of social ministry within a congregation, if there is communication and cross-fertilization among them, can enrich the mis-sion of all for the reign of God. Even where all three levels are not pos-sible, much the same effect can be achieved by collaboration with other religious and lay people committed to working for the transformation of society. No matter which ministries are present within a congregation, all must become imbued with a central concern for social justice. The reign of God and the love of Christ draw us all to this. Some Questions for Consideration Let me turn now to three sets of questions, for which, I assure you, I have no answers. But they may be worth wrestling with in thinking about the future of religious life. I. Most religious congregations had as part of their founding charism a special concern for ministry among the poor.22 Most of our congrega-tions several generations ago ministered mainly among the poor in Amer-ica: immigrant Slavs and Germans, Italians and Irish, still on the mar-gins of American society. Why now are the vast majority of American male religious working in ministries for the more affluent? Was it a form 654 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 of ministerial "bracket creep," where we drifted up the income ladder along with the traditional publics we served, moving with them in from the margins of American society? If we were to decide anew about where to focus our ministries, what might the Spirit call us to do for the reign of God? 2. Most young men and women coming into reiigious life have been formed by American sociocultural conditioning. They look to religion to foster their own self-realization or to shelter them from the world's turmoil through external authority. Our older veterans of religious life are subject to these same alluring siren songs of American cultural relig-ion. Doour models of early and continuing formation, with their empha-sis on psychosocial development or on external structures of religious life, challenge cultural limitations of religious belief and practice? How much therapeutic self-nurturing or sheltering in external authority do we allow? How can we transcend these tendencies in order to instill full bib-lical faith, which integrates God, society, and self? How form religious for mission, to join our suffering, pain-embracing God in transforming the world? 3. The last set of questions is not mine. They come from Archbishop Weakland when he was asked how Jesuits could help implement the so-cial vision of the Economic Pastoral. :His response went something like this: (a) You Jesuits have a lot of access to the powerful in society. They are your alumni, counselees, fellow board members. You turn to them to support~your own works. Will you use that access to power on behalf of the marginalized and their agenda of justice? (b)You Jesuits have ex-perience of the third world, knowledge of the marginalized. Will you bring that forcefully into the consciousness of the American people, who are so woefully ill-informed about the struggles and attitudes of the poor? (c) There are many good young people, in business, the professions, or factories, who are dissatisfied with what our society offers. They want to remain lay men and women, but long for a way of life, a vision, more consonant with the Gospel. Can you imagine, and then image credible lifestyles and life goals for these lay Christians? Archbishop Weakland's q'uestions are generalizable, I would think, for almost any religious con-gregation. Conclusion ¯ I would like to observe, in conclusion, that fait.h does not seem to be a question at the margins of society. Faith in God is very much alive in the third world and in the inner city. There the overwhelming ques-tions are those of justice. Faith seems most fragile and in doubt in the Social Dimensions of Ministry / 655 sterile, cluttered tunnels of our earthworm society of affluence. Faith with-ers here, though we overnurture it with self-concern, though we fence it in with our fears. But faith in the living God is a wild thing. It thrives at the margins, where struggle and hope for God's justice blaze brightest. If we go there, our own religious life may be rekindled, as we join our God in renewing the face of the earth. Let us go, then, without guilt or rage. Let us go in joy because our God draws us, calls us to join the struggle there for the transformation of the world. There, too, we shall meet the love of our lives, Jesus the Lord. NOTES ~ Alberto Moravia, The Red Book and the Great Wall (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1968);' pp. 12-21. -~ Mi 4:2. See Walter Brueggemann, "Vine and Fig Tree: A Case Study in Imagina-tion and Criticism," The Catholic Biblical Quarterly 43 (1981): 188-204. 3 See W. Brueggemann, '~OId Testament Theology as a Particular Conversation: Ad-judication of Israel's Socio-Theological Alternatives," Theology Digest 32:4 (1985): 302-325. This excellent study of the conne~ztion between Old Testament theophany and justice in the social order was the Bellarmine Lecture at St. Louis University in 1985. I am indebted to it for many of the insights in this scriptural section. 4 See Norman Gottwald, The Tribes of Yahweh (Orbis, 1979), chapter 49: "Mutual Reinforcement of Yahwism and Social Egalitarianism." 5 Jn 11:48-51. See Jon Sobrino, Christology at the Crossroads (Orbis, 1978), pp. 201 ff. 6 The term is Brueggemann's. See his "A Shape for Old Testament Theology: Em-brace of Pain," The Catholic Biblical Quarterly 47:3 (I 985): 395-415. 7 Alexis de Tocqueville, Democracy in America, first published 1835-1840. Quota-tion is from Anchor Books edition (1969), pp. 506-510. 8 See J. F. Kavanaugh, Following Christ in a Consumer Society (Orbis, 1981), or his address to this Assembly in 1985: "Religious Life and Leadership in the Con-text of American Culture." From a different perspective, see Daniel Bell, The Cul-tural Contradictions of Capitalism (Basic Books, 1976). 9 An outstanding example of such studies is Robert Bellah et al., Habits of the Heart (Univ. of California Press, 1985). I have relied upon it heavily for this section: ! cannot recommend it highly enough. Another recent study of religious and social trends concurs with much of Bellah's findings: see J. Chittister and M. Marty, eds., Faith and Ferment (Augsburg/Liturgical Press, 1983). ~0 See Bellah, op. cir., pp. 235ff. ~ The phrase is from G. M. Hopkins's poem, "'God's Grandeur" (1877). ~2 See especially Gaudium et Spes, nn. I-3 and passim. ~3 Gaudium et Spes, n. 39. See C. Curran, "Catholic Social Ethics: A New Ap-proach'?" Clergy Review (Feb.-Mar. 1985). 656 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 ~'~ On the history of the preferential option for the poor, see D. Dorr, Option for the Poor: A Hundred Years of Vatican Social Teachings (Orbis, 1983). ~5 See Brueggemann, Parks, and Groome, To Act Justly, Love Tenderly, Walk Hum-bly: An Agenda for Ministers (Paulist Press, 1986), a fine series of reflections on the Micah text and on justice. m6 See Pope John Paul ll's two recent encyclicals on sinful social structures, Domi-hum et Vivificantem (1986), no. 56; and Sollicitudo Rei Socialis (1988), passim. ~7 See Doris Gottemoeller's talk to this Assembly in 1985: "Challenges to Relig-ious Leadership from a Changing U.S. Church," p. 7. ~8 Gaudium et Spes, no. 1. 19 As developed, respectively, by Juan Segundo, The Theology of Liberation (Or-bis, 1976); by Paolo Freire, The Pedagogy of the Oppzessed (Herder & Herder, 1970); and by Holland & Henriot, Social Analysis (Center of Concern, 1984). The last has a simple, practical treatment in chapter I. 20 See Ernesto Cardenal, The Gospel in Solentiname (Orbis, 1979). 2~ Examples nationally include: Amnesty International, Bread for the World, Catho-lic Worker, Fellowship of Reconciliation, Interfaith Action for Economic Justice, Just Life, Network, Pax Christi, to name only a few. There are countless local and regional grouPs as well. 22 From a brief survey of the self-descriptions of U.S. male religious groups listed in the latest vocation guide, Ministries for the~ Lord: A Resource Guide and Direc-tory of Catholic Church Vocations for Men (Paulist Press, 1985), this seems to be true for the great majority of nonmonastic religious congregations of men. I'd Love to, Lord, But. Paul Wachdorf Father Wachdorf's "Leading People into Prayer" appeared in our May/June 1988 issue. His address remains the same: University of Saint Mary of the Lake; Munde-lein, Illinois 60060. In the Gospel of Luke, chapter 4, Jesus returns to his home town of Naza-reth, goes to the synagogue on the Sabbath, and reads from the prophet Isaiah: The spirit of the Lord is upon me; therefore, he has anointed me. He has sent me to bring glad tidings to the poor, to proclaim liberty to captives, recovery of sight to the blind, and release to prisoners, to announce a year of favor from the Lord (Lk 4:18-19). These words give a tone and a direction to the public ministry Jesus was about to begin. In 1971, the Synod of Bishops meeting in Rome produced a docu-ment entitled Justice in the World in which they state: Action on behalf of justice and participation in the transformation of the world fully appear to us as a constitutive dimension of the preaching of the Gospel, or, in other words, of the Church's mission for the redemp-tion of the human race and its liberation from every oppressive situation (Justice in the World, Synod of Bishops, Second General Assembly, Nov. 30, 197 I). The teachings and the ministry of Jesus and the teachings of the Church have consistently proclaimed that action on behalf of justice is not simply an option, not just a matter of personal preference or inter-est, but is an integral part of the gospel message and the Christian life-style as we are called upon to live it. 657 Review for Religious, September-October 1988 Given the crucial importance of this ministry in the Church and in the world today, I would like to reflect on my own journey into and ex-perience of the ministry of social justice from two viewpoints. First, I will look at some of the common resistances people encounter in them-selves as they hear the gospel challenge of social justice. Then, I want to examine some possible steps which people might profitably pursue to help them break through their resistances and respond more fully to the challenge of social justice. Intellectual Assent vs. Active Participation For the past seven years I have worked with the social justice pro-gram at Mundelein Seminary. Prior to that, I served in a parish for six years. During my years in a parish, I always gave intellectual and verbal assent to the principles of social justice. After all, how could I as a priest do otherwise? But as I look back on those years, I realize that my no-tional assent was not often translated into real and different patterns of behavior. Practicing what I preached about social justice was no simple task, although I did not realize that at the time. Resistances, Excuses, Rationalization~ After my appointment to the seminary, I was elected as the faculty representative for our Peace and Justice Committee. Frankly, I was not enthused about this appointment. But since ! felt somewhat insecure in my new environment and in my new work, it seemed to be an offer I could not refuse. I began to think about my commitment and involvement, l won-dered, "What am I supposed to do?" Soon I recognized within me sev-eral resistances, excuses, and rationalizations. In the past, they had kept me from becoming involved in the ministry of social justice in any sig-nificant way. I wanted to say yes to the Lord and to respond to the call of social justice. But my excuses kept getting in the way. At that point, I realized that 1 would have to critique my resistances with honesty through dialogue and prayer. Otherwise, my resistances would effec-tively block me from ever becoming involved in any way at all. Prophets Are Not Popular Quickly, I recognized the first resistance. Prophets are not popular. From Old Testament times to the present day, men and women who sting the conscience of a nation, a people, or a Church become unpopular. They are often criticized; they have their motives questioned; and they are pushed to the fringes of society. I'd Love to, Lord, But. / 659 ! remember very clearly an incident that happened as I was growing up. In the early 1960s, Dr. Martin Luther King led a march through my neighborhood, a white Catholic stronghold, to Marquette Park. I remem-ber standing on the corner on which my parish church and rectory were located watching the march. There were hundreds of white people lin-ing both sides of the street. Many of them were shouting, cursing, or throwing things at the marchers. Two of the priests came out of the rec-tory and began telling the people to go home and leave the marchers alone. Some of the people responded by cursing at the priests and tell-ing them to mind their own business. I saw a man spit on one of the priests. The following Sunday at Mass, the priests spoke out in favor of the marchers and their cause and spoke against the behavior of the bystand-ers, many of whom were good parishioners, pillars of the church. A few people at the Mass got up and walked out. Those days, I helped count the Sunday collection. That week and for a few weeks afterward, the col-lection went down significantly. I have never forgotten that incident. I still admire the courage of my parish priests. At the same time, I am aware that my later reluctance in seminary and in my initial years of priesthood to become involved in the ministry of social justice or to preach about justice issues was strongly influenced by that experience. In my initial involvement with the Seminary Peace and Justice Com-mittee, I soon came to a basic understanding. ! must be willing with com-plete honesty to critique that part of myself that desires to be popular and to be liked by others. Otherwise, I would never say anything controver-sial or would never speak out or would rarely take action on behalf of issues of social justice. Poverty is Messy and Unglamorous A second resistance for me rests in a simple fact. Poverty is messy and unglamorous. For the past seven years I have volunteered on a part time basis at an overnight shelter for the homeless. Many of the people who come to spend the night there are not "pretty." They are dirty; they smell; they are often sick; some have head lice; some are alcoholics; some belong in a halfway house or mental institution. I have always been fortunate enough to grow up and live in a clean, healthy, and comfortable environment. Throughout much of my life I have been isolated and insulated from the poor and the homeless. I rec-ognized another need for honest critique. I needed to confront that part of myself that wants life always to be nice, comfortable, and pretty. Oth-erwise, I would never become involved. 660 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 Myths, Stereotypes, and Prejudices A third resistance for me consists in myths, stereotypes, and preju-dices. Our culture is filled with them--about racial, ethnic, and relig-ious groups and about the poor and those who work for and with them. "The poor are lazy and would rather be on welfare . If they really wanted to, they could better themselves . They like being poor. See how happy they are . People involved in social justice causes are un-patriotic . All social justice organizations are communist inspired." The list goes on and on. I cannot go to a social gathering without hearing at least one joke that plays upon racial, ethnic, and cultural stereotypes. At times, I have told and laughed at those same jokes. I needed to confront and honestly critique my own myths, stereotypes, and prejudices. Otherwise, I would never become involved. Social-Justice Ministry is Disturbing There is a fourth resistance. I find this ministry disturbing. Working in the area of social justice has forced me to critique my own lifestyle, my attitudes about material possessions and wealth, and my use of the world's resources. I must admit that I like the good life. Conspicuous consumption is the name of the game in American society. In my early years of priest-hood when I was no longer a poor student but had a regular salary, I re-ally enjoyed having nice things. They compensated for my "great sac-rifice" of celibacy. I needed to honestly critique my own desire to live the good life and my tendencies toward materialism. Otherwise, I would never become involved. Fear A fifth resistance for me is fear. I found within myself a whole clus-ter of fears. I believed that if I worked with the poor and on behalf of social justice, I would be injured, harmed, or abused in some way. When I spent my first night at a shelter for the homeless, I was thor-oughly convinced that I was going to get head lice. TV news broadcasts and newspaper articles have always been filled with stories of crime and violence among the poor and in the inner city. When I was in college, I was robbed at gunpoint by two young black men. That experience re-inforced an attitude that had been drilled into me in all kinds of ways in my neighborhood: all black people are dangerous and to be feared. I needed to critique with honesty and courage that part of myself that de-sires security and safety at all costs. Otherwise, I would never take the I'd Love to, Lord, But. / 661 risk of becoming involved. An Overwhelming Sense of Poverty and Injustice in the World There is a final resistance. When I consider the extent of poverty and injustice in the world, I feel overwhelmed. I say to myself: What can one person possibly do to make a difference? My efforts will be futile and a waste of time. The work is innately frustrating. I will continually run into brick walls and have to deal with bureaucratic red tape and unsym-pathetic people and institutions. Progress is often measured in inches. You live with little or no sense of accomplishment. I realized that if I was not willing to honestly critique my own feelings of being over-whelmed and my own desire for instant results, then I would never be-come involved. Overcoming Resistances ~ It was not easy for me to look at my resistances. It is no easier to-day. Life seemed to be more pleasant when I closed my eyes to the re-alities of poverty and injustice as they existed all around me. Even after seven years of working with our Peace and Justice Committee, I find that I can still bring out of my storehouse old and new excuses which warn me to "back off," to rest because "I have done enough." As I con-tinue to come in touch with each of my resistances, I am aware that there are various steps that I have to enter into in order to overcome them. MyNeed for Challenge A first step is to allow myself to be challenged by others. I found myself challenged recently in a way I least expected. My sister who is a registered nurse and a certified nurse midwife recently volunteered to work for two years in Papua New Guinea as a lay missionary. I asked her why she wanted to do this. She told me that she was aware of the many talents, gifts, and blessings God had given her throughout her life. She felt that serving as a lay missionary was one way in which she could best express her gratitude to God. As I listened to what she had to say, I felt a lot of pride and admira-tion for my sister. At the same time, I felt a bit embarrassed as I realized that my own commitment to serving the poor at times looked pale in com-parison. I need people like my sister to challenge me and to keep me look-ing at my resistances. I need people like my sister to inspire me and to keep me in touch with my desire to bring to others the Good News that Jesus proclaimed in the Gospel of Luke as he began his public ministry. They need to say little. Their lives are bold proclamation. 669 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 As important as they are, such challenges are ~not enough for me. I have an amazing capacity to ignore or rationalize away the challenges that come from outside of me. To break through my resistances, I need to pray, to dialogue With others, and to simply begin. MyNeed for Prayer A second step for me is to bring my .resistances before the Lord in prayer. I begin by naming as honestly as I can my fears, my doubts, and my inner resistances. I express to God in my prayer what I am feeling and why I am feeling it. I ask God to break through my denial, to re-move from my eyes the scales that blind me to the,breadth and depth of my resistances so that I can see them for what they are. I place my resis-tances in the hands of God and invite God to respond. Here begins what I call the zone of discomfort in my prayer. To say to God "thy will be done" rather than "my will be thine" is~very fright-ening. What if God reveals to me something 1 do not want to see? What if God asks me to do what I do not want to do? At this point, I must qui-etly and patiently wait for God to respond, trusting that the God who loved me into existence will not abandon me or ask me to do anything that I am not capable of doing. MyNeed for Dialogue Prayer leads me to a third step. I need to talk to another person about my resistances. St. Ignatius in his Rules for the Discernment of Spirits, Week I [326] talks about the evil spirit as a false lover who "acts in or-der to keep his own suggestions and temptations secret, and our tactics must be to bring out into the light of day such suggestions and tempta-tions to our confessor or director or superior" (David Fleming, S.J., The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius: A Literal Translation and A Contem-porary Reading [St. Louis: The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1978], p. 213). Resistances need to be brought into the light of day so that they can be seen for what they are. When I do not talk to another person about my resistances, I find that they can gain power to control me, even after I have brought them to prayer. I can easily deny them or sweep them un-der the carpet. In hones( dialogue with another, I am given the gift of freedom of choice. In honest dialogue with another, I find challenge, new perspective, affirmation, support, and the courage to begin. My Need to Begin A fourth step is to begin. At Mundelein Seminary, there is a Spiri- l"d Love to, Lord, But. / 663 tuality and Justice group composed of faculty and students. Each mem-ber of this group has chosen a concrete action to pursue during the school year in some area of social justice. People have chosen to fast, to work at a soup kitchen or a shelter for the homeless, to deaccumulate their pos-sessions and to live more simply, or to pursue the Pax Christi vow of nonviolence. The premise behind this group is that we live ourselves into new ways of thinking, valuing, and behaving. The way to begin is robe-gin. The way to break through and break down our resistances is to be-gin doing something, no matter how small or insignificant. I have chosen the Pax Christi vow of nonviolence as my action for this year. In the sh"ort time that I haqe pursued this, I have already be-gun to experience ways in which my thinking, my attitudes, my values, and my behaviors are changing. I can feel my resistances to living out this vow b(eaking down in the very act of acting. The words of Mother Teresa are most applicable here: I never look at the masses as my responsibility. I look at the individual. I can love only one person at a time. I can feed only one person at a time. Just one, one, one. You get closer to Christ by coming closer to each other. As Jesus said: "Whatever you do to the least of my breth-ren, you do to me." So you begin . ! begin. I picked up one per-son. Maybe if 1 didn't pick up that one person, 1 wouldn't have picked up 42,000. The whole work is only a drop in the ocean. But if I didn't put the drop in, the ocean would be one drop less. Same thing for you, same thing in your family, same thing in the church where you go. Just begin . . . one, one, one. (Source unknown) MyNeed for Support A final step for me is my need for ongoing support. My commitment to working for justice in the world is fragile and tenuous. I find that I need ongoing challenge to help me keep looking at and dealing with my resistances. I also need the support and affirmation of others to keep me going when I experience moments of discouragement and frustration. The Spirituality and Justice group of which I am a part provides me with opportunities for ongoing challenge, prayer, dialogue, and action. At our initial meetings, we spent time praying about the commitment we hoped to make. We broke into dyads to talk to another about why we chose to be a part of this group, about the action we were planning to pursue, and about the fears and resistances we were experiencing inside of us as we prepared to begin. We came back into the larger group to share the fruits of our dialogue. We concluded with shared prayer. At this point, most of us in the group have chosen and have begun 664 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 to pursue an action. We see future meetings as an opportunity for us to take time for solitary prayer as we continue to bring our actions before God. The meetings help us to share in aone to one way and in the larger group the impact that our action is making on our thinking, valuing, and behaving. The meetings offer support and prayer for and with one an-other in our actions. Here we give witness and challenge to one another as we keep looking at and confronting our resistances. Conclusion The journey into the ministry of social justice is challenging, diffi-cult, and painful. There are many ~tesistances that cooe from within and without. There are many starts and stops. It is a journey that cannot be successfully negotiated alone. There can be no authentic journey with-out God and fellow travelers. My experience is that the journey is well worth the effort for my good and the good of others. May the Spirit of the Lord be upon us in our quest to "bring glad tidings to the poor, to proclaim liberty to captives, recovery of sight to the blind, and release to prisoners." Understanding Novitiate Formation Wilkie Au, 'S.J. Father Au has just completed six and a half years as novice director. He is writing a book tentatively titled Acquiring Habits of the Heart: Holistic Religious Forma-tion. He may be addressed at Loyola Marymount University; P.O. Box 45041; Los Angeles, California 90045. Vatican II,s call for the renewal of religious life set into motion a radical reexaminatio.n of the purposes, processes, and structures involved in the formation of candidates for religious life. The aggiornamento of John XXIII required that those responsible for religious formation make the adaptations needed to prepare religious candidates fora lifetime of dedi-cation and service in a rapidly changing world and Church. Because sen-sible adaptation depended on having a clear sense of what objectives were sought, much of the discussion among formation personnel (forma-tores) in the postconciliar years centered on the purposes and goals of the different phases of the formation process. Consequently, the noviti-ate or initial formation in many orders was thoroughly evaluated in light of the renewed understanding of religious life in the modern world, and many dramatic changes followed. Nevertheless, more than twenty years later the question is still being asked today: "What should be the overriding aims and objectives of the novitiate?"~ According to Father Gerald Arbuckle, S.M., a former as-sistant general of his community, many formation personnel today agree that the experience and the efforts to adapt the novitiate program accord-ing to the requirements of Renovationis Causam have not always been as successful as they would have wished. Many are still uncertain about what to do in the novitiate. Many questions remain: "Should there be a one,to-two-year novitiate? . When should the formative apostolic ex-periences take place and what should they accomplish? . How much 665 666 / Review for Religio. us, September~October 1988 separation, if any, from the world around them should novices experi-ence?" In brief, many questions about the aims and objectives of novi-tiate formation persist.2 Today the drastic drop in the number of those entering the novitiate adds further reason for adaptations in novitiate formation. To be accept-able, these adaptations must, however, retain the essential goals of the novitiate. Precisely what these needed changes are and how they are to be implemented will depend on concrete circumstances of place and per-sonnel. But, more importantly, before any sensible adaptation can be made, it is imperative that there be a clear rearticulation of the basic goals of novitiate formation. Otherwise,. there is the danger that our ad-aptations will be misguided and essential aspects of novitiate training be inadvertently°lost. The purpose of this article is to articulate an under-standing of novitiate formation, based on my si'x years of experience as director of novices of the Jesuits of the California Province. It is my hope that this article will stimulate and contribute to a discussion of novitiate formation at a time when formatores throughout the world are attempt-ing to deal with the adjustments made necessary by, among other things, declining numbers. While this article will. reflect Jesuit documents and my ,own experi-ence working within a Jesuit novitiate (with a group averaging between twelve to fifteen,new candidates every year), I am hopeful that other re-ligious groups of men and 'women working with smaller numbers can dis-cover in my comments what is universally true of the novitiate process in general. In a word, I believe that any novitiate program that purports to embody the spirit of Vatican I1 must include three essential aspects: (1) vocation discernment; (2) religious, socialization; and (3) Qngoing in-dividuation. These three overlapping purposes of the novitiate must, in my opinion, be retained no matter what adapta!ions, are made to accom-modate changing circumstances. What follows is a discussion of these three major goals of the novitiate. Vocation Discernment The objective bf vocation discernment in the novitiate is to help nov-ices come to a peaceful awareness and a free acceptance' of God"s will for them in regard to their state of life. Candidates come seeking help in discerning wh(ther God is indeed calling them to a lifelong commit-ment to tile service of Christ with this particular religious group. Sev-eral considerations are helpi~ul in providing this assistance to them: Confirmation of a Call versus "Weeding Out" The nOvmate must be Viewed as a positive process, as a concrete aid Novitiate Formation / 66"/ to those trying to test out their call to religious lif~. The novitiate should not be designed or perceived as a "weeding out" system, something ,like the basic training of an elitist military unit or the strenuous audition for a coveted part in a chorus line. The novitiate process would be vitiated at its core if it were to be seen as a systematic attempt to test candidates by deliberately placing artificial obstacles before them and screening them on the basis of their ability to overcome these obstacles. The de-structive and dysfunctional consequences of this negative view of novi-tiate formation can be documented in the "horror stories" of many older religious. In addition to the regrettable pain and htirt inflicted on peo-ple, a negative approach ~to the novitiate is fundamentally flawed because it encourages fearful and anxious novices to circumvent, rather than in-vest in, the complex process of discernment. Vocation discdrnment requires an openness and attention to one's in-terior movements, especially in prayer, and an honest disclosure and dis-cussion of these movements in spiritual direction. These attitudes of open-ness and honesty cannot exist in the kind of atmosphere of fear and threat which a "weeding out" approach inevitably produces. Furthermore, such an approach focuses too much attention on external requirements that need to be met in order to survive, like ~'hoops one has to jump through" to make the grade. Dangerously distracting, such a pre-occupation with "making it" can seriously jeopardize the integrity of one's discernment process. Good discernment relies heavily on a per-son's ability to hear the voice of the Lord speaking deeply in the soli-tude of one's heart and in the concrete circumstances of one's life. In light of this, the novice director can be most helpful by imitating the posi-tive role of Eli, the priest, who directs the young Samuel to the place where he is instructed to respond to the Lord's summons by saying, "Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening" (1 S 3:1-9). The Dynamic of Election and Confirmation The term "election"' was used by lgna~tius of Loyola to designate the choice made by a person seeking the will of God regarding some con-crete matter in his or her life. For the last four centuries, Christians have found the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius helpful in making an elec-tion, especially when trying to determine how they should serve Christ. For Ignatius, such a determination was best done in the context of prayer, for "prayer is the place where we sort out our desires and where we are ourselves sorted out by the desires we choose to follow. ,,3 The spiritual discernment that takes place in the novitiate results in an election regard-ing the direction one's vocation should take. Besides providing direction, Review for Religious, September-October 1988 however, the election process in the novitiate also seeks to test out the depth and freedom of a person's desire to serve Christ through the life of the vows. The Exercises were designed by Ignatius to help in "preparing and disposing the soul to rid itself of all inordinate attachments, and, after their removal, [in] seeking and finding the will of God in the disposition of our life for the salvation of our soul."4 In a Jesuit novitiate the Exer-cises are usually made in the course of a thirty-day retreat soon after en-trance. This experience provides the context in which the Jesuit novice director helps the individual novice either to make an election regarding his vocation or to reaffirm his previously~ made decision to be a Jesuit. Those who make an election to pursue the Jesuit way of life must then generously engage in the novitiate process with the hope that the Lord will clarify and confirm their desire. Thus, vocation discernment in the novitiate involves a two-year period of' monitoring one's deepest desires and ascertaining whether the desire to serve the Lord as a Jesuit perdures and deepens throughout the course of the novitiate. If this desire per-dures, the novice can then express this desire through the first vows of a Jesuit. Michael J. Buckley, S.J., describes these first vows as an offering, following upon an election, made in perpetuity, very much like the initial election of the Exercises. Like this offering, they are con-tingent upon the subsequent confirmation by the Lord, worked through a human being's personal religious history over the next ten or fifteen years.5 Until he takes his final vows many years after the novitiate, "the Jesuit lives in a period of probation, testing whether the first offering of his life to God [through first vows] is accepted and confirmed by divine providence."6 Buckley summarizes this Ignatian dynamic well by explain-ing "the way in which one moves toward finding and giving his life over to the will of God" within the framework of the Spiritual Exercises. There isthe initial offer of a choice to God our Lord, an offering which is made according to a time for making an election and which is then presented before the Lord . What the dynamic of the election looks for after the moment of offering is the subsequent confirmation'by God. Election as a religious history, as an experience of Providence, devel-ops over time between these two major events: the time of human offer-ing and the period of confirmation by God.7 Clearly, then, the objective of vocation discernment in the novitiate is to help novices determine whether the depth and direction of their Novitiate Formation / 669 heart's deepest desires move them to make a self-offering of themselves through vows. Absolute clarity and certainty regarding the future can-not be expected at the end of the novitiate period, since the person's self-offering must await "the subsequent confirmation by God." As Buck-ley eloquently states, For a man who follows God, who listens to God throughout his serious experience, the future is unknown and mysterious--not unlike God him-self. And he moves into this mystery without prematurely forcing clar-ity because his experience of God directs this movement.8 The Test of Existential Validation Colloquially stated, the test of existential validation asks novices this question: "Does the shoe fit?" This is an important question for voca-tion discernment, and it must be asked on a regular basis. While the Ig-natian election helps novices find God's will for them in the deep de-sires of their hearts, the test of existential validation enables them to dis-cover God"s will in the concrete details of their lives. The method of existential validation is basically very simple. When they first enter, the novices are asked to live the life of a Jesuit as if they have already taken the three vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Then they are asked to pay attention to the "fit" throughout the course of their novitiate. In other words, they are asked to "try on the shoes of being a Jesuit" and check for the fit as they actually walk in those shoes. In their concrete experience, do they find that living the vows in an actual Jesuit community is life-giving and productive? Do they dis-cover that, with the passage of time, there is an increasing congruence between what they want for their lives and Jesuit ideals? As they grow in knowledge of what being a Jesuit involves concretely in this histori-cal time and place, do they find a match between what they desire and what life in the Society of Jesus offers and requires today? Another aspect of existential validation involves testing the authen-ticity of one's desire. This is done mainly by checking for the congru-ence between what one professes to value and desire and how one actu-ally chooses, decides, and behaves. Although all human beings live with a discrepancy between the ideal and the real, drastic and consistent de-viations from the norms and aspirations of religious life should make one question the genuineness and depth of one's desire to be a religious. Though painful and disruptive, getting in touch with authentic desires can be a liberating experience. Furthermore, while self-reporting is an important means for gather- 670 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 ing data in the process of existential validation, the feedback of the re-ceiving community is also very important in testing out the existential fit between the individual novice and the peculiar charism of a particu-lar religious institute. Vocation discernment in the novitiate must ascer-tain not only if a person desires to take on religious life, but whether he or she has been given the gift and charism to live that life. A realistic assessment of this capability is a crucial aspect of vocation discernment. For example, from the concrete evidence of a person's life, can it be judged that the Lord has given the aspirant to an apostolic religious com-munity the following prerequisites: -- the ability to live in community with relative peace and joy? -- the capacity to love with celibate chastity in a non-exclusive man-ner? -- the.freedom to live with simplicity and detachment? -- the ability to be mobile and available to be sent anywhere on mis-sion? The underlying presupposition of this line of inquiry obviously is that one's God-given abilities, personality, and inclinations can indicate in helpful ways the precise form and manner in which one is being called to serve Christ. Not to pay serious attention to these concrete indicators is to disregard an important aspect of vocation discernment. Vocation Shortage and a ~,ranny of Numbers I would like to make a final comment regarding vocation discern-ment in the novitiate. It seems to me that the declining number of candi-dates c~n create a ,~ituation in which vocation discernment is not engaged in with seriousness and detachment. The disordered desire to keep the few that come can jeopardize and short-circuit the discernment process. At a time of drastic diminishment, external pressures to hang on at any cost to the few that do enter are sometimes exerted by formed members of the community. This pressure, as well as the interior unfreedom of formatores themselves, can impede a thorough discernment process.9 Fur-thermore, unconsciously treating novices with a "precious few" men-tality can lead to a form of coddling that would be unhelpful for relig-ious formation and spiritual growth. Religious communities that have had only a few candidates during the last decade and at present experience only a trickle from year to year are particularly susceptible to this dan-ger. Religious Socialization: "Habits of the Heart" The term "religious socialization" has been popularized by John Novitiate Formation / 671 Westerhoff III in discussing the question of how elements of religion and faith ,~are transmitted from one generation to another. While he does not apply the term to the formation of religious candidates, nevertheless, it seems to capture quite well one of the essential purposes of the noviti-ate, that is, the handing on of a religious tradition and lifestyle to per-sons desiring to enter the life of a religious group as fully participating members. Religious socialization, according to Westerhoff, is a process consisting of lifelong formal and informal mechanisms, through which persons stistain and transmit their faith (worldview', value ~syst~m) and lifestyle. This is accomplished through participation in the life of a tradition-bearing community with its rites, rituals, myths, sym-bols, expressions of beliefs, attitudes and values, organizational pat-terns, and activities.~° As defined by Westerhoff, religious socialization is a lifelong proc-ess and thus does not exactly describe the novitiate, which (to the relief of all involved) is limited to one or two years. Technically speaking, re-ligious socialization is equivalent to the whole process of formation, which more and more is being viewed as a lifelong affair. Because of ongoing liturgical renewal, biblical and theological reflection, and the rapidity of changing conditions of our times, religious have been urged to commit themselveS seriously to "continuing formation." ~ Neverthe-less, the ~oviiiate is the initial phase of the lifelong process involved in the assimilation of members into religious life. Viewed as such, Wester-hoff's notion of religious ~ocialization provides a useful way of under-standing an essential purpose of the novitiate. Adaptations of novitiate formation must be guided by the essential goal of religious socialization. The basic question raised by the task of handing on the tradition Of religious life to new aspirants is this: What is tO be~handed down and how? What values, beliefs, mores, and ways of proceeding has the receiving community judged to be of perennial worth, such that they should remain permanently .definitional of the group? To employ a phrase of Alexis de Tocqueville, the nineteenth-century French observer of democracy in America (a phrase recently popu-larized by a national bestseller), what are the "habits of the heart" that the receiving community deems absolutely essential for maintaining its group life with integrity and vitality'? In "habits of the heart" Tocqueville included "notions, opinions, and ideas that 'shape mental habits'; and 'the sum of moral and intellectual dispositions' " as well as habitual practices with respect to such things as religion. ~- Once the receiving community has come to a clear consensus on the 672 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 content which it wishes to transmit, then it must decide on the most ef-fective means for this transmission. The question of how to raises a num-ber of considerations which every novice director must ponder if the no-vitiate program is to have any intelligible rationale. Some of these im-portant considerations will be discussed below. The Question of Contact and Separation For the sake of effective religious socialization, there often arises the question of what contact novices should have with family, friends, those in ministry, and formed members of their own religious order. Arbuckle has provided a very useful framework to reflect on this question. ~3 Re-lying on anthropological data regarding initiation rites, he proposes three-stage process for the novitiate, which, according to him, is essen-tially an initiation rite: the stages of separation, liminoid, and the incor-poration or reaggregation. Stage I emphasizes separating the novices from the ordinary life they have left behind in order to dramatize the radicality of the transition from lay life to religious life. While this stage may be brief, the separation also symbolic. The symbolism must express to the candidate that in order to respond to the call of the Lord there must be a withdrawal from the world of "or-dinary" living with its roles and interests, its speed, and its distraction. The symbolism must convey the message that to follow the radical de-mands of the gospel message one must be prepared to "leave father, mother, brothers, sisters, and all things" for the sake of the Lord. 14 To convey this new dramatic reality, novices should, at this stage, be separated physically and geographically from other members of the group who have already gone through the passage of initiation. Not to separate them, "when the aims of the initiation process are so different from the aims of postnovitiate training, is to make the realization of the novitiate aims impossible to achieve."~5 The second stage, called liminoid (from the Latin, limen, threshold), requires the kind of seclusion that fosters strong investment in commu-nity building. It is precisely in the context of a vibrant community life that the novices are to experience the "habits of the heart" which the receiving community wish(s to transmit to its new members. This is the time for introducing the novice to the unique spirit of the institute, peculiar charism within the Church, and its characteristic way of proceed-ing. By so inculcating its spirituality, mores, history, and tradition, the receiving community aims to bond the new member to its past and thus Novitiate Formation / 673 to provide a foundation for the novice's identification with the group. According to Arbuckle, this second stage of relative seclusion should last about a year. The third stage is that of incorporation or reaggregation, a period when novices are reconnected with the religious family outside the no-vitiate. This stage should be as long as or even longer than the liminoid stage. Basically a time of "evaluated pastoral experience," this stage is to be seen as an integral part of the novitiate process. Arbuckle ex-presses the aims of the third stage by citing paragraph 25 of Renovationis Causam: Besides gradual preparation for apostolic activities, they [that is, the ex-perimental periods outside the novitiate] can also have as their purpose to bring the novice into contact with certain concrete aspects of poverty or of labor, to contribute to character formation, a better knowledge of human nature, the strengthening of the will, the development of personal responsibility and, lastly, to provide occasions for effort at union with God in the context of active life.~6 In my opinion, Arbuckle's three-stage approach provides a rich and comprehensive understanding of the novitiate process, as Well as a sound basis for determining the question of the amount of separation and con-tact that would be helpful for novices. That there be some kind of alter-nation between separation and contact has also been clearly endorsed by others. For example, the Jesuit decree on novitiate formation states: Although entrance into the novitiate should entail a real separation from the life previously led in the world, superiors should nevertheless pro-vide that the novices, while consistently maintaining a spirit of recol-lection, should have sufficient social contact with their contemporaries (both within and outside the Society). Likewise the necessary separation from parents and friends should take place in such a way that genuine progress in affective balance and supernatural love is not impeded. IV The Arbuckle model is useful because it enables the novitiate to ef-fectively bond new members to the religious group, which is the goal of religious socialization. The bonding is both with the past (the commu-nity's traditions and history) and with the present (its present members and ministries). By means of form'al and informal contact, then, the re-ceiving community links its new members to its group life. The Question of Structure and Nonstructure It is my opinion that both structure and nonstructure have important and different functions in the process of religious socialization. The no- 67'4 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 vitiate process must include times for both. Structured time is important for thi~ development of the habits and skills necessary for sustaining a lifetime of religious dedication. This time of structure is the period tra-ditionally known as "common order" during which the novices's day is regulated according to a schedule with definite periods for communal and personal prayer, for work around the house, for conferences and classes with the novice staff, for individual study, and for apostolic in-volvements. Because the development of habits such as those that con-tribute to a faithful prayer life and spiritual discernment requires regular repetition and practice, structured time for such training is important in novitiate formation. Equally important is time for more freedom and less structure in the novitiate learning process. These times of nonstructure provide an op-portunity for the novices to test out to what extent, they have internal-ized and appropriated what they have sought to learn during times of struc-tured learning. For example, has the individual novice found himself or herself able to faithfully sustain a regular prayer life when away from the structural supports of the novitiate? To foster personal responsibility among novices for their own development, the Jesuits' 3 i st General'Con-gregation stated that "a necessity is that the no~,itiat~'s way of life be not so rigidly determined that the novices, lacking in all initiative, can hardly ever practice spiritual discernment, or even obedience itself, ex-cept in the form of a passive and impersonal submission."~8 The non-structured periods of the novitiate allow the novices as aspiring religious to find out truthfully and behaviorally what changes in their lives and at-titudes have actually taken place as the result of their training in the limi-noid stage. Therefore, I believe that a rhythmic alternation between struc-tured and nonstructured time is an essential dynamic of the novitiate learn-ing process. The Question of Experience and Reflection Another important learning dynamic in the novitiate involves the com-bination of experience and reflection. This mode of learning, variously called experiential learning or praxis, calls for the novice's active engage-ment in learning experiences and a subsequent reflection upon those ex-periences, with an eye to what insights and knowledge can be.,gleaned from them. This form of experiential learning is applicable to many ar-eas in which novices are called to grow, that is prayer,t9 interpersonal relationships,2° and ministerial effectiveness. The goal sought through this mode of learning is, in the words of the Jesuits' 33rd General Con-gregation, "a transformation of our habitual patterns of thought through Novitiate Formation / 675 a constant interplay of experience, reflectipn, and action.' While experiential learning can be a powerful form of learning, there is always the danger that it can lead to anti-intellectualism, if it is not carefully applied. Experience is the indispensable raw material of expe-riential learning. But it remains unprocessed--that is, raw material-- without the equally important process of reflecting on the experience. The danger is effectively obviated when serious effort an~d sufficient time are devoted to dwelling on the experience in such a way that ideas and principles are abstracted out of it and feelings are symbolized. In addition'to serious reflection, there is a further requirement of ef-fective praxis. To be used intelligently, experiential learning must be grounded in a well-thought-out theory of experience. As John Dewey warned in 1938, "The belief that all genuine education comes about through experience does not mean that all experiences are genuinely or equally educative. Experience and education cannot be directly equated to each other."zz Mere insisten~ze on the necessity of experience, there-fore, is notenough. In Dewey's words, "Everything depends on the qual~ ity of the experience which is had."z3 Therefore, to use the experiential mode of learning in the novitiate effectively,formatores must ensure (!) that the quality of the learning experiences engaged in by novices be se-riously evaluated and (2)that the novices, with the assistance of a skilled facilitator, give sufficient time and attention to follow-up reflection on their experiences. The Ongoing Process of Individuation The third major aspect of novitiate formation calls for the ongoing fostering of the personal growth of candidates. While the agenda of the receiving community is stressed in the process of religious socialization, the individuation process respects the agenda of persons in their individ-ual growth process. Since it is the case, more and more, that candidates enter the novitiate at such diverse ages and at such different points of p.er-sonal development, novitiate formation must seriously recognize individ-ual differences and aid individuals to move ahead, not regress, in the de-velopment of their selfhood. After all, the ability to give of oneself in self-donation presupposes that one first possesses a self. According to Carl Jung, the process of individuation is a gradual growth toward whole-ness and harmony, involving the progressive differentiation and detailed development of all parts of the human personality. Since individuation is a lifelong project, entry into religious life cannot halt its progress with-out stunting the healthy maturation and development of religious as hu-man beings. 6"/6 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 Since Vatican II, religious have been strongly ehcouraged to take con-tinuhl human growth seriously and to take care that their commitment to religious life does not impede their prior responsibility as human beings to a~tualize their God-gi~,en potential. In the eyes of an increasing num-ber of c,~ontemporary theologians, the motivation for continuous human growth is clearly a religious one. Human life'is seen as a gift fr6m the Fi~ther. At the same time, God couples the gi~ft of life with a challenge to person~s to be cocreatorsof their lives, freely fashioning their lives into "something beautiful for God." In this ongoing process of human de-velopment,~ the Lord of creation and the human works Of his hand col-laborate. Therefore, for the person who seeks to respond to God's in-itiative, a commitment to continuous growth'is not only a choice, but requirement. To deny the inner impulse t.oward continuous growth is tan-tamount to not responding to God, because, in the words of Gregory Baum, "as d.estiny, as summons, as love., God is present in man's mak-ing of man."~-4 John Haughey, S.J., states that the refusal to take seri-ously one's vocation to be a cocreator with God also takes on a moral dimension. When the refusal to choose leaves the work of God's hands unfinished, then this peculiar kind of inaction takes on a moral dimension. Why.'? Because the unique way of manifesting some aspect of the fullness of God that every person is born to manifest remains potency. Refusal to come to the point of decision, choice, or commitment can leave some-thing of creation itself unfinished and hence God's glory incomplete. This constitutes evil at the level of:being itself. An individual thwarts the purpose of God's creating him by refusing to exercise the cocreator-ship that he could exercise. That which is called forth by God is ren-dered void by man.25 Consequently, religious life and novitiate formation must reinforce among no'vices the importance of continuing their commitment to the proc-ess of individuation as they are simultaneously socialized into the group. Growth in spiritual maturity depends heavily on integral human devel-opment. This truth has long been captured in the Scholastic adage that "grace builds on nature." Leo P. Rock, S.J., a former novice director, applied this truth 'to novitiate formation in a pithy way: "Grace does not substitute for nature, but fulfills it. Healthy, sane personality develop-ment is the most fertile soil in which grace can take root and grow. Growth in religious life can best happen in the situation which best fos-ters personal human growth.''26 The following considerations may be helpful toformatores as they consider how to best foster such prerequi- Novitiate Formation / 677 site human growth in the novitiate: The Developmental Nature of Human Growth Human growth takes place in stages, with each stage presupposing and building on preceding ones. As deveiopmentalists put it, these stages are. invariantly sequential. A person cannot, for example, go from stage one to stage four by skipping the intervening stages. This principle thus requires t~at every individual novice be met where he or she is on enter-ing the novitiate, and then helped to proceed ~forward, stage by stage, from tha.t personal starting point. This is especially important because per-sons entering religion today .vary so much in age, background, and de-velopment. An undifferentiated treatment of novices would prove to be an unenlightened and eventually frustrating appr6ach. Another key consideratibn is that, as a Jesuit formation document puts it, "human development does not proceed at the same pace in eve-ryone." z7 This fact calls for adaptation of the process to individuals. Therefore, in. fostering growth in the novitiate, it seems important that the focus be kept on the individual and the particular~areas of his or her life that stand most ready for development at any particular time. Force-feeding of any kind not only risks dging violence to people, but will ul-timately be countbrproductive in leading to any kind of significant, long-term learning. Personal Responsibility and Religious Obedience The renewal of religious life since Vatican II has certainly challenged men and women to understand and qive the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience in ways that do not impede personal maturity and psycho-logical health. Twenty years ago Jesuit John Courtney Murray spelled out this challenge in a talk to fellow Jesuits. He warned that religious obedience poses a real danger to personal maturity if it fosters the abdi-cation of personal responsibility for one's life and choices. Obedience is a perilous"path to personal maturity, according to Murray. This is be-cause the vow of obedience, if poorly lived out, produces people "who to a degree are purposeless, their lives not consciously and strongly pat-terned, not inwardly directed toward a determined goal with all the or-ganized power of the whole self.' ,28 Religious can succumb to the trap posed by obedience by being pas-sive and overly submissive to authority figures in order to gain accep-tance and approval or to enjoy a kind of infantile dependence free from the anguish of personal decision-making. Those who manifest these and othe'r forms of immature behavior often rationalize their way of acting Review for Religious, September-October 1988 in spiritual terms, thus disguising and denying what they~ are actually do-ing. When they say that they "just want to follow God's or the supe-rior's will," it is sometimes simply a rationalization to justify their to take responsibility for themselves.29 This becomes obvious when the superior clearly has no strong feelings or particular preference about wfiat should happen and in fact would like the religious to assume some independent initiative and to indicate a clear preference. Realizing this threat to maturity, ihe document on Jesuit formation makes clear that "the more the noviceg are stimulated to assume respon-sibilities with prudent and discerning charity, the more successfully will .they acquire Spiritual maturity and the more freely will they adhere their vocation."3° A correlative document on Jesuit obedience states that mature obedience is unattainable apart from the constant cultivation a spirit of initiative and responsibility.3~ A Discernment Model to Develop Responsible~Obedience To foster personal responsibility within the framework of religious obedience, I have used the following eight-step model to teach novices a way of practicing dis~zernment: Step 1" Identify the decision to be made or tl~e issu~ to be resolved. Step 2: Examine the underlying values or concerns (human, Chris-tian, religious, and Jesuit) involved. Step 3: Take time to pray over the matter, paying attention to how one is being drawn or led in prayer. Step 4: Discuss the matter with a spiritual director. Step 5: Dialogue with the superior and engage in a mutual search for God's will in the matter. Step 6: Strive for a state of lgnatian "indifference," that is, a state of inner freedom and equipoise which allows one to accept whatever decision or resolution would be for God's greater glory. If a person is unable to achieve "indifference," discussing the matter in spiritual direction can bring valuable self-knowledge and clarity about how best to proceed in the search for God's will. Perhaps, more prayer and dia-logue with the superior regarding conflicting values and perspectives may be needed before a peaceful closure and decision can be arrived at. Step_ 7: Accept the superior's decision with ,trust in God's. provi-dence at work within the dynamics of religious obedience. Step 8: Stay open to the emerging data of ongoing experience to check for confirmation. In a study of lgnatian obedience, John Futrell, Novitiate Formation / 679 S.J., states that "the principal means of confirmation of the decisions of the superior., are the mutual contentment of himself and his com-panion and the proof of living experience.' ,32 If there is serious doubt "that the superior's decision truly reflects God's will, the process of ,prayer, consultation, and dialogue must begin again. This discernment process promotes personal responsibility and growth because it requires the full engagement of the novices. In com-ing to a decision, they must work with.their religious superior, rather than have things fully decided or resolved for them from above. Step I requires them to invest in the process of defining the parameters of the issue from their personal point of view. Step 2 involves a process of val-ues clarification in which they state the values that are at stake in the de-cision. Steps 3 and 4 give them the chance to critique these values, both alone in prayer and together with a spiritual director. Steps 2, 3, and 4 press them to ask an important twofold question: "Am I free to pursue my values.'?" and "Are my values worth the pursuit?" By requiring them to come to some kind of tentative stance or decision before dialogu-ing with the superior, these steps promote their sense of selfhood, which is largely shaped in the process of personal decision-making. Finally, if attained, the spiritual attitude of Ignatian indifference provides them with the inner freedom which guarantees that their act of autonomous choice can be integrated with religious obedience. For, in the end, indifference allows them to accept whatever is decided with a sense of adult respon-sibility and commitment to the way of evangelical obedience. Summary Reflections Before ma~king a concluding recommendation, it might be helpful to summarize what has been proposed here: I. Adaptations in novitiate formation must always be guided by the three, essential goals of the novitiate: vocation discernment, religious so-cialization, and ongoing individuation. 2. Novitiate formation as it relates to vocation discernment must be seen as a positive aid concerned with the confirmation of a call, rather /han as a negative process of "weeding out" candidates. The process of election monitors the will of God being expressed in the heart's deep-est desires, and the process of existential confirmation searches for the will of God manifested in the concrete circumstances of one's life. 3. Novitiate formation as it relates to religious socialization is the proc-ess by which a religious community receives new members and bonds them to the community's past and present by (a) sharing with them its tradition, spirituality, mores, and "habits of the heart" and (b)welcom- 680 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 ing them to its current fellowship and ministries. 4. Novitiate formation as it relates to ongoing individuation is the process by which the, personal growth and development .of individual nov-ices are fostered, even as the novices are being socialized into the com-munity. Towards this end the novitiate attempts to promote individual initiative and personal responsibility within the context of religious obe-dience. In light of what has been proposed above, I recommend-~that, wher-ever and whenever possible, communities with small numbers of nov-ices (for example, five or fewer) join together with,other compatible groups ~to form a larger formation community, Examples of compatible groups might be novices of different provinces of the same religious or-der (for example, an interprovinciai Jesuit or Dominican novitiate) o con-gregations with the same founding spirit (for example, Franciscans, Bene-dictines, Mercy Sisters, St. Joseph Sisters). In my opinion, the goals of religious socialization are. better accomplished in larger groupings and are very difficult to achieve with just two or three novices ~ibsorbed into a regular apostolic house. This is especially true of the liminoid phase of religious socializa-tion, which relies heavily on an experience of community. During period, novices are meant to acquire the religious values,mores, and spiri-tuality of the group by experiencing daily life in a vibrant community, whose central ministry is the socializing of novices into religious This regrouping for the sake of forming larger formatiow communities can be on a full-time or part-time basis. A very successful example a full-time merger has been Loyola House in Berkley, Michigan, which houses the joint Jesuit novitiate program of the Chicago and Detroit prov-inces. Part-time collaborative programs have taken various forms. For example, for two straight years the Jesuit novices of the California and Oregon provinces joined together for two months to experience the Ig-natian Exercises together. Last year three Jesuit novitiates'pooled their resources and spent five weeks together to study the history of the or-der. Another example of such successful collaboration is the intercom-munity novitiate experience in such places as Los Angeles and Denver. Large and autonomous formation communities can provide S'everal very important dimensions of novitiate training that communities of or two novices cannot provide. Briefly, they are the following: Peer formation. In my experience, peer formation is an important as-pect of religious socialization, As novices experience together the dif-ferent aspects of religious life and share theirjfaith and religious experi- Novitiate Formation / 681 ences with each other, they are supported and "edified," in the best sense of the word. Spiritual conversation among novices regarding the story of their vocation, their experience in prayer and ministry, their strug-gles with the vows and with community living can provide much needed support and insight. Liturgical formation. Larger, autonomous novitiate communities are more likely to have a well-planned, coordinated liturgical life, which can be very important in the spiritual formation of novices. When there are only two or three novices living together, chances are that there will be no orga0ized liturgical life in the community. Instead, the novices may merely join in a convenient parish liturgy. When this occurs, the peda-gogical function of liturgy within formation is greatly diminished. Staffing and programmatic advantages. Because of the growing short-age of active members in practically every religious community in the United States, the search for qualified personnel for the various apostolic works of a community often invites a subtle competition among the vari-ous ministries. As a result, there is a danger that novitiate formation will get short shrift because of the very small number of novices being min-istered to. A larger group of novices in some kind of interprovincial ar-rangement would provide a stronger claim for greater investment by the community (a) in qualified formation personnel whose work is given full-time status and assured of some continuity and (b) in some regular and relatively fixed program of instruction for the training of novices. With-out this kind of investment, it is hard to expect that a person asked to be a part-time novice director for one or two years will devote the time and energy needed to understand the complex process of novitiate for-mation and to develop the skills and knowledge needed to do a good job. When left to function on their own, communities with just a trickle of novices tend to create a makeshift, ad hoc arrangement to handle the for-mation of the few. It seems that having several ongoing, large-group, com-mon novitiate programs which could accommodate novices from vari-ous communities that share the same charism or spirit of a founder would be helpful for meeting the need created by the drastic drop in recent years. None of this would be complete without a word about the inherent, not to say mind-boggling, paradox of religious life and growth. While we are called upon to use all of the knowledge and expertise at our dis-posal, it is the Holy Spirit who effects growth, who gives life, and whose gifts shape the soul--a Spirit who, much to the surprise, despair, and con-fusion of our best-made plans, still blows where it will. This does not Review for Religious, September-October 1988 relieve us of the responsibility of bringing what expertise we can muster to fostering human, spiritual growth. But it reminds us that it is the Holy Spirit, whose ways transcend all our human expertise and wisdom, often confounding them, who effects and shapes the growth we hope to facili-tate. NOTES ~ See Gerald A. Arbuckle, S.M., "Planning the Novitiate Process: Reflections of an Anthro.pologist," in REVIEW FOR REL~6~Ot~S (July/August 1984): 532-546. , 2 Ibid., 15.~ 532. ~' 3 Ann and Barry Ulanov, Primary Speech: A Psychology of Prayer (Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1982), p. 20. '* Annotation # I, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, translated by Louis J. Puhl, S.J. (Chicago: Loyola Upiversity Press, 1951). 5 Michael J. Buckley, S.J., "Final Vows in the Society of Jesus," in National Jes-uit News, vol. 10, no. 7, April 1981, p. 8. 6 Ibid., p. 9. 7 Ibid., p. 8. 8 Michael J. Buckley, S.J., "The Priesthood as a Religious Event," in The Berkeley Jesuit, spring 1970, p. 7. 9 "In all selection and testing of seminarians, necessary standards must always be firmly maintained, even when there exists a regrettable shortage of priests. For God will not allow his Church to lack ministers if worthy candidates are admitted while unsuitable ones are speedily and paternally directed towards the assuming of other tasks and are encouraged to take up the lay apostolate readily, in a consciousness of their Christian vocation." Paragraph 6, Decree on Priestly Formation (Optatam Totius), in The Documents of Vatican !I, ed. Walter Abbott, S.J. (New York: Amer-ica Press, 1966). ~0 John Westerhoff III and Gwen K. Neville, Generation to Generation: Conversa-tions on Religious Education and Culture (Philadelphia: United Church Press, 1974), p. 41. ~ Nos. 138-140, "The Spiritual Formation of Jesuits," in Documents of the 31st and 32nd General Congregations of the Society of Jesus (St. Louis: The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1977), pp. I I 1-113. See also no. 23, "Companions of Jesus Se~nt into Today's World," Decree # I, Documents of the 33rd General Congregation of the Society of Jesus (St. Louis: The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1984), p. 50. ~2 Quoted in Robert N. Bellah et al., Habits of the Heart: Individualism and Com-mitment in American Life (San Francisco: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1986), p. 37. ~3 Arbuckle, op. cit., pp. 540-545. ~': Ibid., p. 540. ~5 Ibid. ~6 Quoted ibid., pp. 542-543. t7 No. 22, Decree 8, "The Spiritual Formation of Jesuits," Documents of the 31st and 32nd General Congregations of the Society of Jesus, p. 104. Is Ibid., no. 19, p. 103. 19 For an explanation of how praxis or experiential learning is applied to prayer, see my "Teach Us to Pray," in Company: A Magazine of the American Jesuits, vol. Novitiate Formation / 683 I, no. 3, April 1984, pp. 8-10. 2o For a discussion of the experience/reflection dynamic in learning about interper-sonal relationships, see my "Particular Friendships Revisited," in Human Devel-opment, vol. 7, no. I, spring 1986, pp. 34-38. 2~ Decree I, -#40, Documents of the 33rd General Congregation of the Society of Jesus. 22 John Dewey, Experience and Education (London: Collier-MacMillan Company, 1938), p. 25. 23 Ibid., p. 27 (emphasis in the original). 24 Gregory Baum, "Reply and Explanation," in Ecumenist, vol. 9, Nov.-Dec. 1970- Jan.-Feb. ! 971, p. 18. z5 John Haughey, S.J., Should Anyone Say Forever: On Making, Keeping, and Break-ing Commitments (Garden City, New York: Doubleday, 1975), pp. 23-24. 26 Leo lb. Rock, S.J., "The California Province Novitiate: What We Do and Why," an unpublished paper, September 1973, p. 4. 27 No. 24, Decree 8, "The Spiritual Formation of Jesuits," Documents of the 31st and 32nd General Congregations of the Society of Jesus, p. 105. 28 John Courtney Murray, S.J., " The Danger of the Vows," in Woodstock Letters, fall 1967~, p~ 42 I. 29 For a discussion of obstacles to mature religious obedience, see my "Dealing with Projection: Recognizing and Removing a Common Obstacle to Mature Religious Obe-dience," in Human Development, vol. 6, no. I, spring 1985, pp. 6-1 I. 30 No. 23, Decree 8, " The Spiritual Formation," in Documents of the 31st and 32nd General Congregations of the Society of Jesus, p. 105. 31 Nos. II and 12, Decree 17, "The Life of Obedience." Documents of the 31st and 32nd General Congregations of the Society of Jesus, pp. 164-166. 32 John C. Futrell, S.J., Making an Apostolic Community of Love: The Role of the 'Superior According to St. Ignatius of Loyola (St. Louis: The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970), p. 143. Some Thoughts on the Vocation to Celibacy Clifford Stevens Father Stevens has been, over the course of many years, a Trappist, a parish priest, an Air Force chaplain, an editor of The Priest, and a small-town pastor. He has pub-lished a novel, Flame Out of Dorset, about St. Stephen Harding, twelfth-century Cis-tercian. Last appearing in our pages in 1986, he writes from the monaste(y he founded: Tintern; Monastery Road; Oakdale, Nebraska 68761. The very foundation of the vocation to celibacy must be the complete free-dom from compulsion with which the choice of celibacy is made. Free-dom from external compulsion, in that no one can be forced by external pressures to choose the celibate vocation, and freedom from internal pres-sures, ascetic, moral, spiritual, which would make the choice of celibacy anything but a conscious, free choice, based on something within the vo-cation to celibacy itself. The choice of celibacy is not a rejection or de-nial of the excellence of marriage. ~ It is rather an affirmation of realities that transcend sexuality and marriage.2 This "anthropological" base of the choice of celibacy is a critical factor in celibate happiness, and that celibate happiness is based precisely on the facts that [ could find happiness in marriage, that in choosing celi-bacy3 ! am just as free to choose marriage, and that marriage has a good-ness and nobility all its own. There is a profound reason for this complete freedom from compul-sion based on the specific excellence of celibacy itself, and not in com-parison with something else. The profound reason is this. The gift of sexuality and its directedness toward intimate expression'~ in marriage comes, with our very creation, from God's goodness, his wis-dom, and his benevolence. It is an integral part of our humanity and our 684 Thoughts on Celibacy masculinity, and no power on earth can deprive us of it because it comes with the~very blueprint of our nature. (This article looks at celibacy from a masculine point of view, not because the feminine viewpoint is not im-portant, but becduse it is outside the author's experience.) The ,gift of sexuality, in fact, is the root reality of our bodily exis-tence and of our masculine nature, and has a power and a goodness that enriches human life immeasurably. However we want to describe it, you and I, men endowed with all the gifts of a masculine nature, are shaped and fashioned by every ripple and nuance of our living flesh for physi-cal intimacy with a woman. To hide this from ourselves in the name of celibacy would rob the choice of celibacy of half its meaning. The choice of celibacy can never be based upon a denial or ignoring of the inherent goodness of sexuality or the preeminent goodness of sex-ual intimacy in marriage,s Moreover, it is possible to possess one's sexu-ality in this full awareness of its essential goodness, in complete inno-cence, with a wholesome sense of dignity, freedom, wonder, apd joy in its possession and, with the same complete innocence, to look forward to and experience its joyous expression in marriage; or, if one is a celi-bate, to be profoundly appreciative of its joyous expression in marriage, with the same complete innocence.6 The choice of celibacy is not based upon a lack of appreciation for sexual intimacy in marriage or upon any conviction that the experience of marriage is in any way displeasing to God. These are simply unsound anthropological bases upon which to build a vocation to celibacy and, unwittingly, they can plant deep in.the recesses of one's motivation a time bomb ready to go off. It is unfortunate that in the history of Christian spirituality the voca-tion to celibacy has often been explained in terms that denigrate the value and beauty of sexual love in marriage. The impression is given that the choice of celibacy is somehow a flight from something radically unspir-itual and that the celibate looks upon conjugal intimacy as something be-neath his dignity, something that would mar his perfect purity. The choice of celibacy, if it is genuine, has nothing of this motivation about it, but is based solidly and squarely upon something more positive and something more exhilarating. Celibacy must be based on a profound appreciation for the gift of sex-ual intimacy as personal gift and endowment from God and as an inte-gral part of one's masculine inheritance. Nobility of soul does not fail to plumb and to appreciate the riches of masculine possibility which is the natural inheritance of an awakened and full manhood. Review for Religious, September-October 1988 This possibility, with all its splendor and enrichment, does not ex-haust the human possibility, but it does enshrine some of its noblest in-stincts, of the feelings and of the mind, and an intimacy that mirrors the very passion of God himself. As a celibate I set aside intimacy with a woman, with all its rooms of joy and beauty, only for a greater intimacy and its even more won-drous rooms of beauty, and its universe of joy. But in doing so, I will not deny the power, the significance, or the magnitude of the masculine expectancy that I set aside and turn away from. This intimacy, by what-ever name it is called, is riveted into my very flesh; the lineaments of this passionate preoccupation are traced and interlaced in the warp and woof of my very biology. The gift of manhood with all its passionate possibilities is one of the richest gifts of God. I set it aside freely, not with no appreciation for its beauty, and not with regret, but because I have stumbled on a greater beauty, a more powerful intimacy, and a more earth-shaking encounter. In the shadow of that intimacy and in the tremor of this expectancy, every other human possibility fades into insignificance. I do not hide from myself the shattering loveliness and singular beauty of the sexual intimacy that could be mine, but celibacy reaches out to something greater, fully as rich, fully as valid, and as fully a com-plement to my manhood as the rich experience of love in marriage. This is the sound anthropological base upon which the vocation to celibacy is founded. It may not be part of one's original motivation since, in the beginnings of a vocation, you are simply too busy and too taken up with the excitement of a new direction to reflect upon every element of your motivation. But ultimately what is implicit in your choice must be made explicit by thought, reflection, and personal exploration, and there must not be in the root motivation of celibacy anything resembling spiritual or moral snobbery or looking down on marriage. The choice of celibacy must be based upon some excellence in the vocation of celibacy itself, and not in mere comparison with something else. Only then can the specific excellence of the vocation to celibacy become part of your own life,~and--I am sure I do not have to repeat--thespecific excellence of celibacy is not the fact that you do not have a woman in your life or that you sleep alone. This is a necessary condition, but if that is all that celibacy means to you, you could end up being the most miserable of men, deprived of the crowning act of your masculine nature, the finest and noblest expression of your manhood, with nothing to take its place. That would be a deprivation of singular magnitude. Thoughts on Celibacy And this is something that we should never forget: As celibates we deprive ourselves of this crowning act of our masculine nature, the fin-est and most genuine expression of our masculinity that is sexual inti-macy in marriage. If that terrifying vacuum were not filled with some-thing that touched with joy the very roots of our manhood, the dep-rivation and emptiness would be almost too much to bear. This is one of the consequences of celibacy that has not often been touched upon, but it certainly explains some of the strange aberrations of clerical and religious life and some of the tragic consequences of an ill-motivated and immature commitment to celibacy. One of the major problems in the vocation to celibacy is that many celibates have not through deep personal reflection made explicit in their own minds what was implicit in their choice of celibacy and have ac-cepted, quite uncritically, an evaluation of sexuality in general, and of their own sexuality in particular, that is based on tenets of a Neoplaton-ist and Stoic anthropology embodied in an older type of spirituality. This evaluation notonly placed no value upon sexuality itself, but tended to denigrate as totally unworthy of the spiritual person the inti-mate expression of sexuality in marriage, thus negating the very mean-ing of sexuality and placing a negative judgment on the very possession of one's sexuality. Really, it all starts and ends there: What evaluation and judgment do you place upon the intimate expression of sexuality in marriage? If that judgment is a negative one, you can never really be com-fortable in the possession of your own sexuality. The true Christian evaluation of sexual intimacy in marriage, based upon the vision of sexual love embodied in the Christian revelation it-self, is that the intimate expression of sexual love in marriage is (i) the crowning act (in fa~zt, the primary and unique act) of one's manhood, (2) the finest, noblest, and most genuine expression of one's masculinity, (3) the unique expression of love between a man and a woman, (4) God's crowning gift to one's bodily existence, and (5) the gr,eatest earthly gift that God has given to the human race. This is implicit in the very choice of celibacy, even though that evalu-ation may not have been part of the conscious motivation when the choice of celibacy was made. Historically, the negative sexual tenets we have mentioned are part of a North African phenomenon that included Neoplatonism in Alexan-dria, the monastic movement in the same area, the spirituality of Eva-grius Ponticus, Tertullian, and St. Augustine (and the ascetic movement in the West), and the monastic spirituality of John Cassian, who reflected Review for Religious, September-October 1988 in his writings the sexual anthropology of the Alexandrian monastic move-ment. A healthier anthropology can be found in the robust passion for life in the classical Greek tradition, reflected in the best of Plato and the monu-mental work of Aristotle, later embodied in the Spirituality of the Greek Fathers and in the philosophical achievements of Saints Albertus Mag, nus and Thomas Aquinas. That anthropology recognized the inherent goodness of our senses and our sense life, the inherent goodness of hu-man sexuality, and the innate and preeminent goodness of the intimate expression of sex in marriage. This view, however, was never embod-ied in "traditional" spirituality and had little influence on spiritual doc-trine. The work of Aquinas, however, bore fruit in many areas over the cen-turies even though some of his basic tenets were condemned by an older "Augustinian" sChool soon after his death in 1274. In the documents of the Second Vatican Council, particularly, Gaudium et.Spes, the Aqui. nas view was recovered, and we have in the council documents a posi-tive and wholesome anthropology of sexuality7 which should have a pro-found influence on future spirituality. NOTES ~ "Students should have a proper knowledge of the duties and dignity of Christian marriage, which represents the love.that exists between Christ and the Church." Op-tatam Totius, Decree on the Training of Priests of the Second Vatican Council, ed. by Austin Flannery, 0.P~., no., 10, p. 715. 2 "They should recognize the greater excellence of virginity consecrated to Christ, however, so that they may offer themselves to the Lord with fully deliberate and gen-erous choice, and a complete surrender of body and soul." ibid. 3 Celibacy seeks, on the basis of personal:experience and personal judgment, a con~ tinual intimacy with God and with divine things; it provides that personal solitude without which, for this p_articular individual, such continual intimacy with God would be impossible or unlikely. Celibacy is not chosen because there is any value in mere sexual deprivation, but because it is a natural step towards a lifestyle totally or domi-nantly preoccupied with the eternal and the divine. Celibacy bears witness in one's own person to the eternal dimension, to the reality and significance of the eternal in human life. '~ For the purpose of this article, sexuality and sexual intima~3, have these meanings: Sexuality is a gift of God that comes with the act of creation, a personal endowment that should be borne with a certain masculine dignity and yet worn joyfully~ and lightly. Our sexuality is inherent'ly good, and so, too, is the intimacy with a wdman to which it leads. Sexual intimacy is a gift of God that comes with the very blueprint of our nature, Thoughts on Celibacy in the sense that the pattern of that intimacy is molded into our very bodies. Sexual intimacy is part of our human and masculine inheritance, and its expression in mar-riage the very crown of masculinity and femininity. But while sexual intimacy is a gift to our person and our nature, its expression is meant to be embodied in a personal choice based on love, embedded in the marriage covenant, and to be the setting and inexhaustible source of the deepest human hap-piness. Sexual intimacy comes with our nature and our personhood. It is the living expres-sion of the noblest human love and is itself the image and mirror of God's own love for human beings. By celibacy we freely deprive ourselves of this most enriching gift,'this crown of our masculinity, for the simple reason that we, called by God, have other plans for ourselves. 5 The nature of the vocation to celibacy is not a denial of the inherent goodness and sublimity of married love, but an affirmation, the affirmation of something beyond the sexual and beyond the earthly, the affirmation of another relationship and the cul-tivation of that relationship as the main occupation of one's life. Celibacy is a dep-rivation, but it is a freely chosen deprivation of something seen to be part of one's own human inheritance and something preeminently good. St. Thomas links celi-bacy to the virtue of magnificence, a certain exuberance in living, a bursting of the bonds of the ordinary to reach out to the extraordinary. It is based on a hunger for the eternal and for an intimacy as real and as stunning as the intimacy of man and woman in marriage. See Josef Pieper, The Four Cardinal Virtues (University of Notre Dame Press, 1966), pp. 145-180.' 6 Celibacy is part of the virtue of sophrosyne, touched upon in Aristotle's Ethics, with a fuller treatment in the Summa Theologiae of St. Thomas Aquinas. The object of sophrosyne is the body, and those things that are of the body (soma, somatos). There are several levels or kinds of sophrosyne: (I) joy and pride in bodily being itself (simple sophrosyne), (2) joy and pride in bodily well-being (dignity), (3) joy and pride in bodily senses (liveliness), (4)joy and pride

Issue 29.6 of the Review for Religious, 1970. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to Rxvmw Fog R~LmtOUS; 6x2 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63xo3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. .Joseph's Church; 32~ Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Lores, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1970 by REVIEW SOR REI, mtOUS. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland and at additional mailing offices. Single copies: $1.25. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year, $11.00 for two years; other countries: $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REvmw sort RELmmUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REvmw sog RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions should be sent to REVIEW sort RELIGIOUS; P. O. Box l 110; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Manuscripts, editorial correspondence, and books for re-view should be sent to REVIEW sog RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. NOVEMBER 1970 VOLUME 29 NUMBER 6 RICHARD P. VAUGHAN, s.J. Spiritual Counseling and Pra er. Fostering an ever deepening relationship with God, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit constitutes a major objective of the religious life. Traditionally the road to such a relationship has been a formal schedule of prayer. The daily horarium of spiritual exercises has been an essential part of almost every congregation's rule or con-stitutions. During the past decade styles of religious life and prayer have undergone change, especially among younger religious. Emphasis on the relationship with God remains, but the way of achieving this relationship and what it means differ. The new religious is more aware of what he is before God and before others. He is more aware of the Spirit working in the secular world; he recognizes God in himself, in the persons and events of his daily life. He encounters Christ in his contacts with others. Formal prayer, such as meditation, recitation of the Office and rosary, seem less impor.tant to him. In some instances, they have been abandoned in favor of a fre-quently renewed commitment. Flexibility. in Prayer In response to changing attitudes, many congregations have started to experiment with more flexible approaches to prayer. Freedom, previously unheard of, has been ÷ granted. Set periods of obligatory prayer have given way ÷ to approaches geared to unique personalities and temper- ÷ aments and to the dem~inds of a particular apostolate. This change has let a breath of fresh air into many communities, but at the same time it has created a vac-uum. Formal scheduled prayer, while it can and has helped individuals to grow in the likeness of Christ, is subject to the danger of routinism. It is relatively easy for a religious to deceive himself into believing that he is growing in the spiritual life because he spends the time at prayer required by rule, whereas little true prayer is ac- 803 Richard Vaughan, S.J.; P.O. BOX 519; Los Gatos, California 95030; is Provincial for Edu-cation of the Cali-fornia Jesuits . VOLUME 29, 1970 .÷ R. P. Va~ghan, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 804 tually taking place. Some religious have been content to spend the assigned time at daily meditation, Office, or rosary, even though little recognizable benefit resulted, simply because the rule prescribed it. Young religious have come to question such a view. The focus of their religious life is more on the frequently renewed dedica-tion. However, just as the traditional emphasis has its limitations, so too does the recent approach. A spiritual life placing heavy emphasis on seeing God in the world of people and events can gradually give way to a human-ism in which one is no longer actively aware of God and centers rather on the purely human with a subsequent loss of the original commitment. Value of Spiritual Counseling Regular spiritual counseling can counteract this dan-ger, inasmuch as it requires the counselee to face honestly and openly his continuing commitment to the service of God and neighbor and, it might be added, to see the need for some form of regular prayer if an active awareness of God's presence is to continue. The process of spiritual counseling differs radically from psychological counseling and psychotherapy. The latter two are concerned with changes in personality and the reversal of symptoms resulting from the application of psychological techniques, whereas spiritual counseling focuses on the person's life with God. The spiritual coun-selor attempts to help the individual become more aware of his religious experiences. Basically he is trying to assist the counselee in discerning the workings of the spirit, so that he can determine what is the will of God for him in concrete situations. It is true that emotional disorders and faulty attitudes injure this discernment, but chang-ing these personality characteristics is not the spiritual counselor's proper function. Recognizing them, however, and the part they play in blocking discernment is. When personality characteristics are such as to handicap seri-ously any true discernment, then it is the responsibility of the spiritual counselor to direct the religious to a compe-tent professional so that these limitations can be reme-died. Spii'itual counseling serves a number of important functions. First of all, it allows us to have a better under-standing of the nature and quality of our relationship ,with God. It makes us actively aware of our daily reli-gious experiences. In our routine-ridden world, it is very easy to put aside a certain amount of time for prayer but seldom reflect on the efficacy and effectiveness of this prayer. We are apt to gloss over the question: Is my prayer truly prayer? Moreover, spiritual counseling makes us clarify and sharpen our thoughts and feelings about religious experiences in a way we would never do if we settled for a few minutes of self-reflection. When I must explain these experiences to another, I am forced to scrutinize them and then describe them in clear, accurate terms intelligible to my listener, As I talk about such things as the place of Christ in my life, God as a loving Father, prayer, the manifestation of grace, the working of the Holy Spirit, or God's will, I gradually sort out the genuine from the false, and the important from the un-important. I become aware of my openness or.my lack of openness to God. I become aware of the many ways that God is operating in my life--either directly or indirectly. I experience a deeper appreciation for God-'s manifesta- .tions. On the other hand I may well see that a wall seems to exist between God and myself. I may come to the conclusion that I have closed myself off from or denied many of God's manifestations. I may see that I have rejected important graces and c6ncerned myself exces-sively with my own world. If left to myself, it is less likely that I would come to realize my own selfishness and. lack of concern for God and neighbor. Listening Spiritual counseling involves three phases: listening, dialogue, and decision. Listening is an activity .of both the counselee and the .counselor. Even though the coun-selee may never reflect upon the fact, he listens to himself and to the promptings of divine grace within himself. As he talks he becomes aware of God working in and through him. Moreover, it is assumed that previous to the coun-seling session he has listened to God speaking, especially at times of.prayer. These promptings of grace become the subject of discussion. It should be noted that God speaks in many ways: directly through His Spirit, through reve-lation, through others, and through the events 6f everyday life. One 6f the goals of counseling is to determine when God speaks as opposed to the promptings of our sinful nature. Listening is also the work of an effective counselor. It is sometimes falsely considered "lending an ear." If one is present and aware of what is being said, he is thought to be listening. The truth of the matter is that listening is a very active process requiring much concentration and ex-penditure of energy. It demands that the counselor try to be aware of what is taking place within the counselee at each moment he is with him. It also demands that the counselor recognize the various levels of functioning, such as the spiritual, the cognitive, the conative, and the affective, as well as the relationship and integration, or lack of integration, of all of these functions. For instance, the good listener is one who is perceptive enough to see ÷ ÷ ÷ Counseling and Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 805 ÷ ÷ R. P. Vaughan, S.]. REVIEW "FOR RELIGIOUS 806 when emotions have taken over to the detriment of the Spirit or when habitual attitudes block thoughtful reflec-tion. The good listener hears not only the words but the way the words are expressed. He notes the tone of voice as well as the mode of expression; from these he is able to estimate the emotional involvement. The spiritual coun-selor as listener concentrates on any indication of the Spirit working within the counselee. He notes blocks or hindrances to the promptings of grace. At times, he sees that the counselee has a need to unlSurden himself before he can become aware of God's presence in his life. The counselor listens with empathetic concern. He attempts to discover what God means to the connselee, his reli-gious experiences, the depths of his faith, and his atti-tudes. Frequently all of these can be learned by active and attentive listening with little need for probing or questioning. Before the counselor enters the second phase, namely, the dialogue, he makes sure that he has at least an adequate estimate of the counselee's spiritual state. Dialogue The second phase, the dialogue, presupposes a rapport which allows the counselee to talk freely about his reli-gious experiences. Concerned listening often brings this about, inasmuch as it produces a feeling of acceptance, which permits the counselee to express freely his views without [ear of rejection. A dialogue is a conversation in which two persons reason on a topic, exchanging ideas and opinions. They examine the evidence for and against an action or a position. The initial stance is one of open-ness to all possibilities. When the term is used in relation to spiritual counseling, it implies that the counselor and the counselee examine the latter's spiritual condition, re-flecting upon its state. I[ all is well, they evaluate the signs indicating that the individual is following God's will. If there is a problem, they weigh together possible solutions, considering arguments for and against each. During the first phase the counselee describes his spirit-ual condition, which then becomes the topic of discussion during the second phase. The counselor helps the counse-lee enumerate arguments favorable to and opposed to a particular stance; he helps him evaluate the relative mer-its of each. He assists him to see when and how the Spirit is working in concrete situations. He also helps him to-ward a greater awareness of God's presence. Counseling is a learning situation. It is a time when an individual learns more about himself. Often this is accomplished without giving advice or direction. As the counselee talks about his relationship with God and neighbor, he be-comes more aware of divine intervention in the world of grace. He begins to see on his own what changes should be made and what he should do to bring about improve-ment. However, there is still a place for direction and guidance, especially in counseling younger members of a community. For instance, if a religious has never learned to pray properly, the counseling session c,'in afford an opportunity to teach the fundamentals, followed b3) a period of testing and reassessment. It can also be the occasion for presenting the traditions of a community, a time when the religious can consider whether he is fol-lowing these traditions or whether he really wishes to do so. Whether one makes use of advice and. guidance de-pends upon the needs of the individual counselee. It is the task of the counselor to determine these needs and then proceed accordingly. Decision-making At times, decision-making is part of the counseling process. Frequently, however, the purpose of counseling is simply to help an individual come to a greater aware-ness of God's manifestations and to a better understand-ing how he is or is not following God's will. When there is a need to make a decision, it is hoped that the counsel-ing will result in the counselee arriving at a decision on his own. The function of the counselor is to see that the counselee confronts all the options and weighs their rela-tive merits. Rarely should the counselor force a final deci-sion based on his own evaluation of the situation. If the counseling is truly counseling, most counselees can arrive at a decision without undue influence on the part of the counselor. An inability to do so may signify some kind of a psychological problem. dttributes of the Counselor Who can counsel? What should be the characteristics and abilities of the spiritual counselor? First and fore-most, he or she should be a person of faith, aware of the world of grace and the divine manifestations; one who has personally experienced the presence of God in his own life. He should be a person who can and does love both himself and others. He should be perceptive, with the ability to see below the surface and recognize the depths of personality and spiritual growth. He should also be able to communicate well his thoughts and im-pressions. To be effective, he or she will need adequate training in the theology of the spiritual life and, hope-fully, will have previously sought out a spiritual counse-lor for himself or herself. Psychological training can be helpful inasmuch as it offers some procedures directly or indirectly applicable to spiritual counseling. It should be noted, however, that it Counseling and Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 807 can also be a handicap if the counselor, as a result of his training, centers most of his attention on personal prob-lems to the neglect of the spiritual. If young religious are to develop a full spiritual li~e, and if older members are to realize the renewal urged by Vatican II, there is a need for an abundance of spiritual counselors--at least one or two for every large commun-ity, It is quite evident there are too few priests with available time. The most logical solution is for congrega-tions to train the members of their own communities as spiritual counselors. They could select those best suited by previous training, experience, and personality, and assign them to this important task. Many orders or con-gregations of men have already inaugurated such a pol-icy, but they find it impossible to supply priests who can devote themselves fully to the counseling of religious women. Conclusion A perusal of the early history of the religious life re-veals a minimum of structure with a great emphasis on regular spiritual direction. Due to the constant effort of a spiritual counselor each monk grew at his own rate in the likeness of Christ. As members increased individual coun-seling became more difficult and was gradually replaced by the ordered daily horarium of spiritual exercises, the goal of both being the deepening of the monk's relation-ship with God. If contemporary religious congregations are to realize the inner renewal sought by Vatican II, they would do well to consider a return to a style of religious life grounded in regularspiritual counseling. ÷ ÷ R. P. Vaughan, REVIEW FOR R~LIGIOU$ SISTER KRISTIN SHRADER, R.S.M. Prayer Is Listening Several years, ago, Karl Rahner began speaking of the "Church of the Diaspora," the Church which had come of age, which had forsaken the trappings of bourgeois collectivism, which had become the standard, of a commit-ted few. If the diaspora has characterized Chrigtianity, it seems even more so to be characterizing contempoi:ary religious" life. The wane of numerical strength has made it clear that convents and seminaries are in the throes of a crisis of vocation and a crisis of belie[. It is within the context of religiotis life in the Church of the diaspora that I would like to discuss the question of contemplative prayer. Our age, engulfed in a deluge of media and messages, has been characterized as one which "has lost the apti-tude for prayer.'.' 1 If prayer is listening not only to the Spirit as He works in our hearts but as He works in the world around us, then perhaps our age has also lost the aptitude' for listening. Perhaps we are deaf to'entire re-gions of ourselves and our world. I shall try to describe these hidden domains, and, in the process, try to l~rovoke us to hear what we have not heard before. Perhaps we are deaf to that part of ourselves and our world which is beyond that which merely performs "actions. This is the self and the world which do not act, but which are the mirrors in which God acts so as to let Himself be known. This is not the self-made self and not the man-made world, but is that which is passive, which is fashioned and illuminated by God. How are we in the last third of the twentieth century to find a new way to pray, a new way to listen? I suggest that we look at our unhearing selves in terms of two new images: that of pilgrim and that of prophet, instead of in terms of the image of professional or of achiever. This means that to listen, to pray, we must not do, achieve, or accomplish anything as the world accomplishes things, but rather that we must learn to listen by holding our- I Wino~ de Broucher, S.J., "Mortification in Prayer," Cross and Crown, March 1963, p. 13. 4- Sister Kristin writes from Lewis Hall (Box 219); University o[ Notre Dame; Notre Dame, Indiana 46556. VOLUME 29, 1970 809 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Kristir~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 810 selves in readiness for something, or rather for someone. This patient readiness is what I think Karl Rahner was describing when he spoke of prayer as "this awful waiting." 2 It is what Augustine meant when he said that the continual desire for God is prayer. I can neither explain nor understand prayer. Perhaps no one can: "There are thresholds which thought alone, left to itself, can never permit us to cross. An experience is required--an experience of poverty and sickness" 3 or, perhaps, of love or of sacrifice. By attempting to describe something, prayer, which I cannot explain, perhaps I can, though, suggest how we "listen." Merton suggests the form that such a preparation for prayer might take: (1) detachment and (2) finding ideas about God in all we do.4 His second suggestion corresponds to what I will describe as living as a prophet, as one who sees the signs of God in all things. His first suggestion, detachment, corresponds to what I have called living as pilgrim, as one who can look inside himself to see that he desires God and God alone, and that this world is b/at one stage of his Godward development. Amid the dissonance of the desires of this world, the pilgrim alone truly knows how to listen. He knows that this world is not his home, that he is journeying to God, and that this very journey is what we call prayer. As Merton says: "The secret of prayer is a hunger for God and for the vision of God, a hunger that lies far deeper than the level of language or affection." ~ Much this same point, that prayer is a desire for God, a consciousness of our being pilgrims, of our listening to what is in, but not of, the world, is made not only by Merton, but also by Teresa of Avila, by Aquinas, by Paul, by Guardini, by John of the Cross, and by Karl Rahner. When John of the Cross wrote that the man of prayer "will desire with all desire to come to that which in this life cannot be known," 6 he was making much the same point as Paul whose prayer was his desire for God: I think that what we suffer in this life can never be compared to the glory, as yet unrevealed, which is waiting for us. The whole creation is eagerly awaiting for God to reveal his sons . Creation still retains the hope of being freed, like us, from its slavery to decadence, to enjoy the same freedom and glory as the children of God. From the beginning until now the entire 2 Encounters With S!lence (Westminster: Newman, 1965), p. 25. a Quoted by Thomas Merton, Zen and the Birds o] Appetite (New York: New Directions, 1968), p. 56. ~Seeds o[ Contemplation (Norfolk, Connecticut: New Directions, 1968), p. 133. ~ Ibid., p. 140. ~ The Complete Works of John of the Cross (Westminster: New-man, 1949), v. 1, p. 76. creation, as we know, has been groaning in one great act of giving birth; and not only creation, but all of us who possess the first fruits of the Spirit, we too groan inwardly as we wait for our bodies to be set free. For we must be content to hope that we shall be saved--our salvation is not in sight., it is something we must wait for with patience. The Spirit too comes to help us in our weakness. For when we cannot choose words in order to pray properly, the Spirit himself expresses our plea in a way that could never be put into words, and God who knows everything in our hearts knows perfectly well what he means.' These are the words of Paul who longed ~o be deliv-ered from this body of death and to be with God, Paul who wrote to his Philippians: "I want to be gone and be with Christ." s Thus, for a man who really desires God, prayer is no longer problematic, because we pray as we live. As Merton puts it: "As a man is, so he prays." 9 Thus the man who listens is he who is able to hear his own deep desire for God. He, the pilgrim, is able to say: "I want God and I want him more than anything else, and I will wait for him." This is what Teresa of Avila meant when she uttered her Deus solus sul~cit. It is this realization which is the substance of prayer. Following along these same lines, Karl Rahner says that the ulti-mate meaning of daily prayer is the awful waiting for the God we desire: "The prayer that You require of me," writes Rahner to God, "must be, ultimately, just a pa-tient waiting for You, a silent standing by until You, who are ever present in the inmost center of my being, open the gate to me from within." 10 For Rahner, being a listener, a pilgrim, was based on the realization that nothing on earth is worth abandon-ing oneself to it. Thus all life is one prayer, one long aspiring for God, like the lives of the wise virgins of the Gospel, si~ch that our eternal possession by God is the answer to our lifelong prayer, a prayer which basically is like that of John of the Cross: I live, yet no true life I know, And living thus expectantly, I die because I do not die Within myself no life I know And without God, I cannot live.n Out of our Augustinian restlessness-~our restless until they rest in thee--and out of our wholeness and for finality is born contemplati Thi~_ pr_~esupposes, of course, that we can hear~ ' Rorn 8:18-27. s Phil 1:23. ~No Man Is an Island (New York: Harcourt, Brace 1955), p. 42. 10 Rahner, Encounters, p. 24. ~ Works of John oI the Cross, v. 2, p. 450. hearts are ~unger for ve prayer. he cries of and World, 4- 4- + Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 81I Sister Kristin REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 812 our hearts for wholeness. The penalty for failing to artic-ulate our inner longings for God, for failing to risk the often painful encounter with the unseen God within Us, is being doomed to live a boring, supercilious, superficial life. But none of us wants to live a superficial life, just as none of us wants to live a life devoid of prayer. The crucial question, then, is: How do we learn to listen, to live as pilgrims? How do we begin to utter the "I want God" which is the essence of contemplative prayer? Pascal says that we would not seek God unless He had ¯ already found us.12 This suggests that we cannot learn to desire God, because He must find us first. This suggests that John of the Cross was correct when he said thatthe soul that has union with God no longer has any methods of prayer, that within the limits of the supernatural there are no prescribed ways.13 Pascal's remark also suggests that we do not really learn to look for God; rather, we realize He is already within us. Seeking Him should be for us, as it wa~ for Paul, a continual realization that He has already found us, that He dwells within us. "Know you not," Paul virtually shouts out, that "you are the temples of the Spirit?" 14 Paul knew that God had found him, had loved him.15 As John said: "Christ first loved us." i~ Perhaps we do not have a tremendous desire for God because we have not been stripped of all else. That is why we cannot live as listeners, as pilgrims. 1 referred earlier to the necessity of detachment if we were to listen to the cries of our heart for God--lf we were to llve ~'s pilgrims. This emptiness means, I think, that we realize that just as love demands sacrifice, so prayer dhmands discipline, that we cannot live by our feelings and then call it fulfillment, that we cannot live by rationalizing and then call it hearing the Spirit. I think this ~mptiness means, too, that we must bear patiently even our inabil-ity to desire God. Only When we learn to suffer with our own inability to find Christ, only when we discover our own spiritual poverty and our own hunger for God, only when we learn to agonize over the whys of existence and God and self---only then will we have prepared the ground out of which the solitude of contemplation will grow, because on.ly then will we have learned to listen. It is~hard to learn to listen, hard to say "I want God" when we know that the very conditions of our finding God demand sacrifice: the sacrifice of regular, disciplined ~ Quoted by Louis Evely, That Man Is You (Westminster: New-man, 1964), p. 15. ,1, Works o] John oI the Cross, v. 2, p. 76. it Rom 8:9-11; I Cor 3:16. ~ Rom 5:8. 101 Jn 4:19. prayer, the saca-ifice of not trying to rely on an of prayer but only on faith, the sacrifice of "a ihg," as Rahner calls it,17 the sacrifice of reno that we possess, as Luke says,18 the sackifice of o dung what we used to call gain, as Paul says.19 All these forms of sacrifice are" what Cassian "purity of heart," what Christ meant when no man can serve two masters, what Merton using Zen to still the birds of appetite, wh~ Eckhart meant when he said: "To be a proper God and fit for God to act in, a man should a] from all things and actions, both inwardly wardly.20 In saying that detachment and mortification condition for the contemplative prayer ofa li: being a pilgrim, we enunciate the dictum of Jc Cross: Solitude is o;eated by an unsatisfie~ John of the Cross compares wrong desires tc which obstruct the sight of the soul,2~ and says hess that is uncreated cannot enter the soul, not first cast out that other created hunger whk to the desire of the soul; for . two contrari dwell in one person . " Yet, in spite of our knowledge that we will ne union with God in prayer without first emp hearts of other desires, this knowledge does cause us to desire God. On the contrary, it is dous grace, I think, for a person living in th~ lose interest in the things that absorb the discover in his own soul an appetite for po y methods ~vful wait-ancing all )unting as meant by said that meant by it Meister abode for so be fi:ee and out-is the pre- ;tener, for hn of the hunger. cataracts that "ful-l there be h belongs es cannot vet attain Lying our lOt alone a tremen-world to orld and 'erty and. solitude. How can we prepare ourselves to r~ zeive this gift of grace? I think we can begin, as Merton'says, by not trying to understand, explain, or produce a ~lesire for God or for contemplative prayer. Rather, we on ght to .try tq see, to listen . and this seeing and hearin experience, not rationality, out of which pray! How else can we learn to hear the pure ~ which is the threshold for prayer? Paul sugges~ learn to really listen to the Spirit when in th~ chapters of the first epistle to the Corinthians, guishes two types of wisdom. The first is a ~ words; it is rational and didlectical. The secon~ dom of the cross; it is experiential and para6 was the second sort of knowledge that Paul kne about Christ. The word of the cross is self-empt Rahner, Encounters, p. 2~. Lk 14:33. Phil 3:7-9. Quoted by Thomas Merton, Zen, p. 9. Works oI John oI the Cross, v. 1, pp. 42-3. Ibid., p. 36. is pure is born. Cperience how we first two .ae distin-isdom of is a wis- ~xical. It w told us ying, and ÷ ÷ Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 813~ 4, 4. Sister Kristin REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 814 only it enables us to know in the Biblical sense of know-ing as possessing in the act of love. Those who love have a new logic of knowledge and from this new type of wisdom comes the experience which is prayer. But prayer, listening to the reality of all that happens, is not merely being aware of our desire for God and our condition of being pilgrims. Prayer is not only to love God above all things, but it is also to see him everywhere in all things. This was what Teilhard called "purity of heart." 2a That is, prayer also is a type of listening which looks outward and sees the world as filled with signs of God. It is tlfis type of prayer whose exercise demands that we al! be prophets, revealing the hidden things of God out of tangible happenings. This type of prayer is not problematic if one's world is shot through with God. But how do we listen such that our world is seen and heard as permeated with God? One way, I think, is to build on the crucial experiences of life, since prayer operates by means of issues which are ulti-mate in our lives. That is, prayer operates according to our systems of values. Prayer, or the lack of it, affirms what is, or what is not, important to us: That is, the happenings which drive us to the ground ques-tions about human existence and which elicit our deepest self commitments are., good preparations for deep prayer. We find in the profound experiences of love and creativity an in-tensification of our spiritual self-possession, accompanied by a lucid awareness of the contingency of our world, which is already an encounter with God. From such peak experiences we can slowly learn to feel how God is always present to our human action?~ Perhaps we cannot learn to pray because we cannot really see or hear. Perhaps we are too much a part of an age which is activistic rather than prayerful, pragmatic rather than spiritual, anthropocentric rather than theocentric, compromising rather than disciplined. Thomas Merton once wrote that if we were really look-ing for God,. every moment and every event would sow seeds of contemplation in our hearts.2~ That is, if our hearts were ready, we would see that "the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls and tenement halls" as Simon and Garfunkel say. All life would be a sign if we knew how to listen to God. How do we become prophets, so that we can listen to the signs of God that are heard in life? Perhaps one way of listening is conscience. Perhaps another is being aware of a seeking that is unsatisfied by material things. As we =Hymn of the Universe (New York: Harper and Row, 1965), p. 124. -"~ John Carmody, S.J., "Contemporary Faith and Prayer," Sisters Today, November 1967, p. 105. "~ Merton, Seeds, p. 18. passively search, or listen, we become aware of God's work in us and in the world around us and we respond. This response, is prayer, and it was brought about, as Scriptures say, by sleeping with our hearts awake.2~ And our heart is kept awake by love and discipline, by faith- [ulness to the insights of prayer, by watchful attention. This continual search is the 'condition of continued growth, and faith is the condition of continual search.27 For us to be prayerful, then, requires that we learn to see the world as prophets, as full of signs of God, and this requires faith. But what is the object of our faith and how is it attained? Jesus told us to seek and we would find, and yet He did not tell us what we would find. In fact He said there were no close directives for discovering His kingdom. It would come unawares; it was within . His coming would be like a lJlghtning flash.-~s If this is so, then perhaps all we can do is to be like watchful virgins, ready for the hour when His light and His prayer comes. Another way of being "ready" is, I think, to eliminate the defensivensss and self-protectiveness of our words, by opening ourselves to understand, by giving up the secu-rity of set words or positions. If we know how to listen, then a person who confronts us with angxy words is really saying he is afraid to love us. A person who says God does not exist is really saying no one ever made God meaning-ful to him. Listening this way means hearing God. And after all, (lid not God know how to listen? He loved us first, as John says.29 He became a slave so that we could be saved, as Paul says, and He loved us while we were yet sinners.~0 Why is it that we cannot see signs of God, that we do not know how to listen and to pray? Perhaps it is because Christ is not real enough for us . but how is he made real? One way, I think is by the way in which He gives shape to our lives by the vocation that we, with the Spirit, choose. This is because, for the Christian, love is the only absolute, and' our vocational dhoice and our prayer are both concrete ways of expressing this love. When Jesus prayed, it was always in response to His vocation; He prayed before choosing His Apostles, and before His passion and death. To pray in this way, as Christ prayed, demands that we listen to the signs of God in our vocational call. We pray for much ~he same rea-sons that we want to be religious: we want to preach God and to praise Him and to help bring forth His kingdom. ~ Canticle of Canticles 5:2. ~ See Rosemary Haughton, On Trying to Be Human (Springfield, Illinois: Templegate, 1966), p. 42. = Lk 17:24. .o0 1 Jn 4:19. ~o Phil 2:7; Rom 5:9. ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 815 Si~ter Kristin REVIEW FOR,RELIGIOUS 816 We want to find Him. For these reasons we pray. For these reasons we are celibates living in community. Thus the surrender to God's will which characterizes listening prayer seems, identical with a resolve to go ahead vocationally with what we know we must do. And what we must do is necessitating precisely because it is a faithful expression of who we are. Prayer and vocation both say who we are; they constitute our identity, and they are both linked together. If we are faithful to who we a~e, then we listen. Then we do not have to run around trying to fill up people with. God, because we know He is already there, that we have already been redeemed. Then we are abl~ to make visible, in daily events, the fact that behind the anxious sincerity and idealism and capacity to love of most people is the face of Christ who loved us so much that He came to liye among us, that behind the dirty curtain of Viet-nam, and racial hatred, and all the ways in which we are insensitive to those with whom we live, is the face of the crucified Christ. This is the raw material of prayer, and knowing how to listen refines it into prayer. If we know how to listen, then we do not have to look at the world as if it were built in two stories: the first floor, the natural level, the second floor, the supernatural level. If we know how to listen, we do not have to try to depend upon laws or habits or practices or veils to speak, of God. Our love will do it for us. Instead, we can take the world as it is, lavished by God's love and our poor attempts to love, and see it as holy. I do not think the person of prayer, as prophet, is pietistic.or aloof or unapproachable; I think he or she is One who is able to recognize in all men the face of the Messiah, the one who, as prophet, is able to make visible what is hidden and hopeful the one who was without hope. Such a person is compassionate and merciful; he realizes that nothing human is alien, that something looks profane only because his eye is not sacred. Out of this human compassion, the heart of a true prophet is opened not only to his sisters and brothers, but to God. In listening to them, he can listen to the man of Galilee who called illiterate fishermen, who talked with learned Pharisees, who wept over Jerusalem, and who, finally,. had nowhere to lay His head. Jesu.s redeemed us, and if we listen, we know that. When we listen, we will become aware of all that is beautiful, that is one, that is in pain and anguish, of all that is holy, in the Body of Christ. With this awareness-- and we have to be aware--we go to the Father in the Spirit, and we praise Him and reverence Him and lift up to Him the suffering members of His Body. It is this awareness which is the door to deep personal prayer. In fact, contemplative prayer is a witness to a special type of awareness: that of faith. Here:, God is present to the self and the contemplative listener is called to live in a more intimate communication with that mystery. Just as de-tachment was the precondition for the prayer which was desire for God, so faith is the precondition for the prayer which sees God in all things. When we can live these two types of prayer, when we are both pilgrim and prophet, we can listen, and we hear precisely because we have stilled our own murmurings and hear Christ in others. When we are all this, we have, as John of the Cross says, both entered upon the road and left the road at the same time.al At this point we will have given God, not our feelings, not even our thoughts, but ourselves. And when we have done this, we can say with Rahner: "Your commission has become my very life. It ruthlessly claims all my energies for itself; it lives from my own life." az We can say with Paul: I am not my own any longer,as At this point, our prayer will be the utterly simple prayer of listening because we will be living and moving and having being in God. Prayer will happen because we pray as we live, and we must live as pilgrims and proph-ets. In the end, all I have said comes down to our living with the unshakable conviction, of those who wait, that now we see a dim reflection in a mirror, but that one day, one day, as Paul says?4 we will see face to face. Works ol John oI the Gross, v. 2, p. 70. Rahner, Encounters, p. 72. Philem I:10; Phil 3:12. 1 Cor 15:12. Prayer. VOLUME 29, 1970 817 JOHN O. MEANY AND SISTER MARJORIE CAREY, B.V.M. Psychology and "The Prayer of the Heart" J. O. Meany is as-sociate professor of. education and Sis-ter Marjorie teaches Russian at the Uni-versity of Notre Dame; Notre Dame, Indiana 48556; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Incredible as it may seem, there is an ancient Christian tradition of prayer which seems to be almost unknown to Christians in the West. How many Western Christians, for example, have heard of "The Prayer of the Heart"? This Eastern tradition of prayer, sometimes called "Hesy-chasm," may play an increasingly important role in the personal and interior "reformation" which is, hopefully, now taking place in the Roman Catholic Church in the West. There are changes emerging in the Western ap-proaches to prayer and to spiritual formation: a return to a more interior life of prayer and a personalistic and psychologically-conscious spirituality. In order to return to what is more basic and funda-mental in the psychology of prayer, it is essential that we distinguish between those particular aspects of Western Christianity which have been determined by our own unique culture(s) and traditions and, on the other hand, those aspects of prayer and spirituality which are, in an anthropological sense, relatively "culture-free," or more universal and fundamental. It may be difficult to com-pare. our own familiar forms of prayer and spirituality with those which are relatively more independent of our own experience and traditions, but only in this way can we obtain a new view of the primary sources of the basic Christian spirit. There are, of course, as many approaches to G6d as there are (from the human point of view) facets of His Being; and there are as many paths to Him as there are individuals whom He guides along these paths. For God is not limited by our limitations. He draws each individ-ual to Him in a unique way. Yet it seems that, however unique the way, God usually draws a person to Him by using that person's cultural and socio-economic back-ground. Eastern and Western traditions and personality characteristics differ; thus the mode of prayer of an East-ern Christian may seem to be radically different in ap-pearance, if not in reality, from that of a Western Chris-tian. In recent years, however, many young Westerners have turned to the East for new approaches to spirituality; they have found in some forms of Eastern spirituality-- particularly in Zen Buddhism and Yoga--new insights into themselves. Similarly, we, too, may come to see more clearly our own sources of spirituality, through an at-tempt to understand a different Christian tradition. In-deed, one seldom understands his own country until he has left it to travel abroad. | Historically, the Prayer of the Heart d~tes back to the fourth-century desert fathers of Egypt wh~ insisted on the ideal of continual prayer. The Prayer of/he Heart, often called the Jesus Prayer today, began to e~nerge in recog-nizable form during the fifth century; and the full text of the prayer can be found in the life of tl~e sixth-century Egyptian hermit, Abba Philemon. A coln~non~ expression of the Jesus Prayer, rhythmically said froth the heart, has bee,n,: "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me. This form of prayer can be descr!,b~d as: "Standing before God with the mind in the heart. | The roots of the Jesus Prayer are to belfound in Scrip-ture itself. The Jews of the Old Testarpent so revered Yahweh that His name was considered to [be an extension of His Person, a revelation of His Being.I This reverence for the name of God continues throughout the New Tes-tament: "At the na,m,,e of Jesus every kne~ should bow, in heaven and on earth (Phil 2:10). Indeed, lthe entire Jesus Prayer is existentially, as well as Biblically, oriented. Its similarity to two other Scriptural prayers is apparent: the prayer of the blind man, "Jesus, Son ~f David, have mercy on me" (Lk 18:38); and that of the [publican, "God be merciful to me a sinner" (Lk 18:13). In t!me, a body ,o,f traditio,n, al teachin~ c,a, lled "Hesy-chasm;' meaning quietness' or "reppse, grew up around the Jesus Prayer; and at least 'since the sixth century the tradition of the Jesus Prayer has influenced the spirituality of Eastern Christians. During three peri-ods of history the Jesus Prayer has been particularly in-fluential in the East: during the Golden Age of Hesy-chasm in fourteenth-century Byzantium .under the great theologian,. St. Gregory Palamas; during the Hesychast renaissance in Greece in the eighteenth century when the great anthology of Eastern spirituality, the Philokalia (love of the beautiful), was written; and during nine-teenth century Russia under Theophan the Recluse. To understand better how the Hesychast approach could contribute to the West, one might examine how it ÷ ÷ ÷ Prayer o] the Heart VOLUME 29, 1970 819 4. 4. 4. I. O. Meany and St. Marjmle REVJEW FOR REL]GIO0$ 82O has already contributed to the East; for example, how it has contributed to Russian spirituality, as that spirit has grown out of the environment and "national" character of the Russian people. The Russians are predominantly a silent people; this is evident in an old Russian custom: traditionally, whenever a member of an old Orthodox Russian family leaves on a journey, the entire family gathers in silence to pray. The family remains silent for several minutes; then the father rises to bless the family and each member of the family silently traces the Sign of the Cross on his forehead while facing the. family icon. Afte~ this paternal blessing, mutual blessings are ex-changed. This love of silence may also have led many Russian Christians to a contemplative life. There is also in the soul of the Russian people a primitive, almost naive simplicity; yet in this simplicity profound depths may be fathomed. Russian spirituality has been imbued with this simplicity which is so characteristic of the spirit of the Gospel. Their prayer life, too, has always been simple, without a complicated rational (or discursive) for-mula. Still another characteristic of the Russian peasant is his love of the rhythmic beauty of life--the" rhythm found in the cycles of nature and family life. This is especially apparent in the works of Tolstoy, who so com-pellingly depicted these cycles in his great epics, War and Peace and Anna Karenina. This love of rhythm, found also in Russian music, is clearly reflected in the rhythmic breathing of the "Jesus Prayer." One of the most obvious characteristics of the Russian peasant is his yearning for open and unlimited stretches of land. The geography of the land, therefore, influences the national character ofthe people, which in turn, af-fects the forms of their spirituality. The vast open areas of Siberia, the immense forests of the country, seems to have evoked a response to the Infinite which is reflected in personal religious experience. Because of this yearning for space, the Russian peasant has also been somewhat of a pilgrim. This, of c6urse, is true of many cultures and personalities; indeed, the whole history of man can be seen as a journey. Yet as Nicolas. Berdyaev points out, this spirit of the wanderer seems particularly characteristic of the Russian people. Through the centuries Russian pil-grims have traveled from afar in search of peace and spiritual renewal, visiting the famous cathedrals of Kiev, Novgorod, and other places of pilgrimage. They have traveled especially to those places where a "staretz," a man of God, prayer, and discernment, was still to be found. Thus, the innate yearning of the Russians for vast unlimited space has made them a nomadic people. This spirit of the wanderer, in search of truth, is .underscored in The VCay of a Pilgrim, a story of a Russian pilgrim who journeys forth, continually repeating the Jesus Prayer. This unknown Russian pilgrim has made the Eastern mode of prayer more available to Westerners through his personal religious experiences which are de-scribed in The Way o[ a Pilgrim and The Pilgrim ,Con-tinues His Way. The Jesus Prayer is a prayer that comes from the heart. It differs from the current Western and, perhaps, more cognitive approach to prayer; yet as St. Teresa of Avila points out, the important thing is not to have m~ny thoughts, but to have great love. Eastern Christians seem to have preserved the idea of the whole man: body and heart as well as mind and soul. This more total approach to "spirituality" seems to be meaningful for modern Westerners, as can be seen in the new orientation of such books as Harvey Cox's The Feast o[ Fools, Dechanet's Christian Yoga, Dom Aelred Graham's Zen Catholicism and Norman Brown's Love's Body. The difference in modes of prayer, then, between the East and the West is based not only on cultural and personality characteristics, but also on the different atti-. tudes toward man which are prevalent in the East and in the West. For centuries. Europeans and Americans have tended to emphasize man's rational nature; and since the Counter-Reformation, this emphasis has found expression not only in Western scientific methodology but also in various discursive "methods" of prayer, such as the Igna-tian, Sulpician, Salesian, and Ligourian. Descartes' dualism, or Western rationalism, has failed, however, to create in the (non-Westernized) East the head/heart dichotomy that it has fostered in the West. The traditional Russian peasant seems never to have lost his sense of wholeness. Eastern Christians seem to have preserved that broad perspective of "the whole man," an integrated body-heart-mind-soul. Perhaps the Zen scholar Daisetz T. Suzuki was right in contending that Western thought has erected barriers be-tween man and reality; barriers of concepts, imagery, cas-uistry, and reasoning. Consequently, instead of bringing us closer to reality, language has frequently separated us from it. For example, if a person rigidly decides not'to think about sex, he often finds himself unconscio~usly in-volved in it. There is a story of a Western theologian who decided to marry just after writing an elaborate treatise on celibacy; the theologian admitted that all his former theories had been "mental constructs." In terms of depth psychology, this type of theological "construct" might be seen as an intellectual defense, a defense which .broke down under the pressure of previously-denied (emotional and sense) experience. Repression fosters "acting out.:' Similarly, current Western existential "philosophy" can the Heart ,. VOLUME' 29,. 1970 :~" 82L ~. O. Meany and Sr. Mar]orie REVIEW FOR RELiGiOUS 822 be seen as an attempt to break through (defensive) logical constructs in order to come closer to the "living reality." The East, however, is in a sense, already "existential" and has been throughout its long history. Though recent Western theology has tended to be Cartesian or dualistic, the Russian has always been more at home with an existential or phenomenological ap-proach to God and prayer. The writings of Dostoevsky were influenced by Orthodox spirituality; this approach is often viewed as both intriguing and somewhat threat-ening to a Westerner, whose spiritual formation has o.ften been unconsciously conditioned by abstract ideals and logical categories. However, existeritialism and phenom-enology are beginning to have an impact in the West, through such Christian authors as Dietrich von Hilder-brand, Hubert Dom, Adrian Van Kaam, Gabriel Marcel, and Simone Weil. The existential and direct approach to God, although it is found in the prayers of the liturgies of the West, has always been a more living part of the consciousness of the Russian. The best aspects of tradi-tional Russian spirituality would not be interested in a rationalism or nominalism which would tend to separate love from human physical experience. But the worst in Russian Marxism might attempt to separate love from the physical world. Even as the human body can be seen as the outward expression of the inner soul, so also can icons, images, and incense be seen as an expression of the Church's inner spirituality. Thus the Russian prays with a pro-found sense of reverence; he seems to have a deep sense of ritual. In the Orthodox religion there is no Western-like sepa-ration between the liturgy and private prayer; no such Cartesian-like distinctions are made. This ancient Eastern tradition is similar to a relatively new trend in the West-ern liturgical movement which stresses the use of public liturgical prayers for private prayer. The scholarly jour-nal, Worship, has long stressed the value of liturgical meditations. We are not always conscious of the fact that much of our Western liturgy is an existential prayer, existential because it addresses God in the "here-and-now." For. Orthodox Christians there are no logical dis-tinctions between private and public prayer, just as for them there are no class or caste distinctions between monks and laymen. Husbands and wives, monks and nuns, all follow the same traditional and existential way of prayer. Love, not rules, is the focal point. Orthodox Christians do not feel that reading the Bible reflectively is a prayer, though they do not deny its value. Reflective reading often is predominantly a cognitive process unless the words are related to the feelings, fanta-sies, and senses of the "heart." Orthodox Christians re-gard their prayer as more of a total personal relationship to God, by praying "with the mind in the heart." At the risk of imposing Western categories on Ortho-dox spirituality, one might distinguish three forms of Orthodox prayer. First, bodily prayer which uses the pos-ture and the senses of the body. For example, one might bend his head so that his eyes can look at the place of the heart; he may try to become aware of his breathing in order to use its natural rhythm as an aid to concentration as he prays to God. Secondly, mental prayer in which the mind holds the "Word" in inward prayer, so that con-sciousness is expanded; thus one tries to center one's whole being on the "Word of God." And thirdly, there is the Prayer of the Heart. This last form of prayer is for Eastern Christians the highest form of prayer because in this way of praying the mind descends to the heart as it stands before God. The Orthodox feel that it is essential that the mind descend into the feelings and images of the heart during prayer although they realize that the heart, without the attention of the intellect, is blind. As St. Makarios of Egypt (4th century) said: "Descend into thy heart and there do battle with Satan." Thus the mind of the person descends into his heart to view his feelings, fantasies, and sensual experiences in order to choose those which are truly good and oppose those which are not. This process is different from that advocated by some western writers like Tanquerey. This process also pre-supposes a deep psychological openness to oneself, a non-defensive consciousness. Unlike many Westerners, the Eastern Christian does not try to use his intellectual constructs to keep the mind from the heart. Rather, he worships God with his heart and feelings which are, hope-fully, known by his mind. Thus the body and the inter-nal senses play a positive role in prayer, as it can in higher forms of Yoga. The conscious use of the body, as in dancing, could play a more important role in prayer and in the liturgy of the West. The purpose of the Jesus Prayer is to fill one's whole consciousness with the name of Jesus, just as St. Francis of Assisi spent a whole night in prayer rqpeating ever more deeply the Lord's name. Ideally, the head and the heart are thus united; conscious unity in the person is the goal of some modern psychologists and theologians. For example, the psychologist Carl Rogers describes the ide-ally "fully functioning person" as one who knows, exis-tentially, what his "heart" (or organism) is saying, and he can talk about his inner experience if he chooses to do so. The theologian, John S. Dunne, in his A Search [or God Prayer of the Heart VOLUME 29, 1970 823 ~. O. Mean~ and St. Mar]orie~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in Tim.~ and Memory also stresses the value of a unity of thought, feeling a.nd action in the person, " ' .~ Through the centuries physical~ "exercise~ ~ind disci-plines such as fasting have been used to affect one's sciousness. In prayer, exercises and inner discipli.nes can" be used. to concentrate, one's being on the n.ame of. Jesus. But. one great danger in "prayer" is that words, or thoughts can be compulsively repeated, being motivated by unconscibus inner conflicts;, thus "prayer" could, be used defensively to avoid an inner growth of. conscious-ness and love. As in some forms of Yoga, the Jesus Prayer can be associated with the natural rhythm of breathing. Thus, this Hesychast"method of prayer uses the natural, not [orced rhythm of breathing or the .heartbeat to aid total intellectual and emotional conceritration on the name of Jesus; just.as a Westerner might use the beads of'a rosary ti~ c0ncefitrate on a mystery. By using his breathing to concentrate on the name of Jesus, the person may thus bring prayer more deeply into his ~hole being. Sponta-neous and relaxed breathing is used to bring one's atten-tion repeatedly back to the name of Jesus, which is then psychologically associated with the breath (and life) of the person. It is important to realize that these physical exercises are regarded as an aid to, not~ an obligation of, prhy'er. The Orthodox know well that there can be no physical or mechanical means of acquiring grace. No bod' ily nor physical techniques can be an automatic method of obtaining grace. Furthermore, they do not recommend the use of this form of prayer without proper guidance, or Spiritual direction, because it can cause sexual arousal, or it could possibly damage the lungs or body, if forced o~ used incorrectly. Associating one's prayers with the natural easy flow of one's breathing, however, is'a way of aiding the mind to descend into the body and the heart,' in an attempt to offer lovingly to God one's whole being (emotions, will, and attention) in the name of Jesus. Some practical applications of processes similar to this way of prayer are described in J. M. Dechanet's Christian Yoga. This book is one example of a modern application of "ancient wisdom to prayer. He includes a discussion of practical techniques for the "Prayer of the Heart." "On the Three Methods of Attention and Prayer"'is a treatise often attributed to St. Simon the New Theolo-gian. It makes clear that .there are three ways of prayer. The first way of prayer, used by an emotional person, would stress primarily the feeling approach to God with-out much stress on reason. A second ,,~ay of,prayer would stress the intellectual approach with thoughts-fighting-. thoughts because that person is relatively unaware of his emotions. The third and preferable way is an integration which would have the mind consciously descend into the heart so that the person takes a conscious position toward his own internal emotions and fantasies in order to love God with his whole mind, his whole heart, and his whole soul In recent years many young Americans--like Franny in Salinger's Franny and Zooey---have come to know some-thing of the Jesus Prayer, although it may easily be mis-interpreted as a mechanical spirituality. Its appeal for modern people may be due to several factors: its Christo-centric theme, its Scriptural base, its simplicity. Many may find in this way of prayer a human expression of their adoration and love of God. Others may find in its rhythmic breathing a meaningful way of "physically ex-pressing" their spirit. So, like Yoga, Zen, and other modes of Eastern spirituality, Orthodoxy may offer to the West another approach to prayer, perhaps another way of help-ing us to find our way back to the Christian Spirit. SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY AND SOURCES Arseniev, Nicolas. Russian Piety. London: Faith Press, 1964. Balthasar, Hans Urs von. Prayer. New York: Sheed and Ward, 1961. Berdiaev, Nicolas. The Russian Idea. New York: Macmillan, 1948. Chariton of Valamo, Igumen. The Art of Prayer. London: Faber and Faber, 1966. Dechanet, Jean Marie. Christian Yoga. New York: Harper and Row, 1960. Delmage, L. Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius. New York: Wagner, 1968. Diahonia, a journal edited by George Maloney, S.J. New York: Fordham University. Dunne, John S. A Search for God in Time and Memory. Toronto: Macmillan, 1969. Fedotov, George P. A Treasury of Russian Spirituality. London: Sheed and Ward, 1952. Hausherr, Iren~e. "La m~thode d'oraison h~sychaste," Orien-talia christiana, 1927. Loyola, Ignatius de. The Autobiography of St. Ignatius. New York: Benziger, 1900. Johnston, S.J., William. "Dialogue with Zen," Concilium, November 1969. Jung, Carl G. The Collected Worhs of Carl Jung, volumes 5 and 9. Princeton: Princeton University, 1968. Kadloubovsky, E. and Palmer, G. E. H. Early Fathers from the Philokalia. London: Faber and Faber, 1952. Kadloubovsky, E. and Palmer, G. E. H. Writings from the Philokalia on Prayer of the Heart. London: Faber and Faber, 1951. Mason, R.ussell E. Internal Perceptions and Bodily Function-ing. New York: International Universities Press, 1961. Nicodemus of the Holy Mountain. Unseen Warfare. London: Faber and Faber, 1952. Philips, Dewi Z. The Concept of Prayer. New York: Schocken, 1966. Prayer " o] the Heart VOLUME 2% 1970 825 Richardson, A. Mental Imagery. New York: Springer, 1969. Sofrony, Archimandrite. The Undistorted Image. London: Faith Press, 1958. Stolz, Karl R. The Psychology of Prayer. New York: Abingdon, 1923. Ware, Timothy. The Orthodox Church. Baltimore: Pelican, 1964. .~. O. Meany and St. Mar]orle REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JONATHAN FOSTER, O.F.M. Some Notes on Hostility and Fidelity: The Religious Presence One of the most masterful and insightful commentaries on human aggression dates from the years immediately following World War I--Edna St. Vincent Millay's poign-ant little play, Aria da Capo. In the work's "play within a play," two friendly and unsophisticated shepherds under the direction of a stern stage manager set out to play a game in which they innocently build a wall between them and say "that over there belongs to me and over here to you." The game soon becomes deadly serious, however, and their friendship quickly deteriorates into suspicion and mistrust. At one point in the game, Thyrsis has a moment of sanity and beseeches Corydon.: "It is an ugly game. I hated it from the first. How did it start?" To which Corydon replies: "I do not know . I do not know. I think I am afraid of you! You are a strangerl I never set eyes on you before." Their fearful insight into the tragedy of their situation does not hinder them, how-ever, from plunging head-long into the "game" which ends in their mutual killing of each other for what the other has. The essence of the tragedy of human existence there-fore, as seen by Miss Millay, is the deterioration of trust. When man do not deliberately break trust with each other, society can be sweet and peaceful, as the shepherds in the play experienced it. For in the beginning, before the "game," they agreed in simple joy to "make a song about a lamb that thought himself a shepherd." But when .the wall goes up--and in the play it is only a streamer of tissue paper that Corydon cannot even find when he staggers toward his dead friend in his death agony--ignorance and misunderstanding build large, + + 4. Jonathan Foster is a member of St. Joseph's Franciscan Seminary; P.O. Box 449; Oak Brook; Il-linois 60521. VOLUME 29, 1970 827. ]. Foster,~ O.F.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 828 tricksome images that cast dark and suspicious shadows over the land. And it is when we encounter these suspi-cious shadows that:we begin to experience hostility, and too frequeritly this hostility bristles into violence. I would like to suggest here that the situation dramati-cally Conceived in Aria da Capo is .r~pidly coming to characterize the whole of American society and that the current easy attitude toward vows in religious life is con-tributing to this situation. ¯ There is an unease in the land, an .unease that increas-ingly expresses itself in polarized movements, bristles with hostility for its counterparts, and, with a regularity t.ha.t is ~c~asing to. ast.onish; b.reaks out into violence. The reason for this is hardly a simple onE;°but one of the most important factors, I believe, is the demise of trust under-lined by Miss Millay. It has long been known that violence, especially as carried out by children, is the mindless response to a betrayal of trust by those who should above all have been trustworthy--parents, brothers, sisters, friends. Most psy-chotic violence among grown-ups too is explainable in terms of betrayal and subsequent alienation. It is.not too much to suggest that the unease drifting through our country, the. increasing prickle of hostility, the growing threat of mass violence is largely a projection on a na-tional scale of this same betrayal o~ trust. There certainly has been such a betrayal in our public institutions. Our government and political leaders have been. found to be insincere so often and so damagingly that they, have generated powerful counter-political movements based on an-idealism that seeks to actually do that which government and presen( politics only profess tostand for. Business and labor time and.time again have been found out to be playing dirty games behind the bright chintz of public relations, advertising; and noble sentiments. The curtains have been jerked back a few times too often on all levels of education, to reveal admin-istrators and teachers .with their thumbs stuck in a few unsuspected pies. Even the hallowed judicial system has been seen to be as petty and partial as ward-heeling poli-ticians. Bishops and religious leaders with almost monot-onous regularity put on masks in the same dressing rooms with government,, and more and more of their subjects are sbe, ing under the make-up. ¯ Perhaps all this insincerity is not as new as it seems. But what is certainly new is the great number of people who know: about it. Mass journalism and historical schol-arship have had much to do with this public breast-bar-ing, "telling, it like it is," debunking and stripping down even ou~ heroes. And so, I suggest, the great question that expresses the malaise of. our society is: "Who ;can you trhst?" Th~ cynical crack is mor~ and more the language of the land. More and more like-minded'groups, search-ing for trust, turn within and band together. The result is fraCtionalization, polarization, hostility, violence. "I do not know you" becomes "I do not trust you." But this is hardly the whole story. As if it were not engugh that the public institutions of our, society are found not to wash under their public robes, we are facing now the deterioration of trust in the private institutions of our society. Personal rel~itionships 'of all kinds ,have B~en affected by the erosion of trust. The vows of mar-riage, "till death do us part,"'ard taken with increasingly l~gs seriousness. In the steady-dating relationship, too, boys and girls enter into quasi-matrimonial and even Sex-ual relationships, the basis of which is not ~rust, but usefulness ~ind convenience. But where this relationship is easi!y deceived into thinking itself meaningful, the no-torious "Playboy" relationship cynically strips away all pretense and encourages partners to enter the most trust-oriented of all relationships with the most callow mo-tives. And the infamous generation gap is not created just by misttnderstanding. It is created as much by the parents using this deepest and most responsibility-bearing rela-tionship as a means for their own advancement. Finally, there are religious vows. In the past history of religious life, the value of the vow for. society was preemi-nent. Today what is becoming of supreme value is the relevance of the vo;v for the individual religious. And if the taking of the vow, or the keeping of it even for a specified time much less for life, is similarly restricting, then it is not taken, or it is broken in view of some other commitment. The priority of the individual in the reli-gious taking of vows has become paramount in our day. What we are failing to understand at this point in the pendulum swing of religious commitment is that reli-gious life is perhaps the last social institution in which fidelity and trust are basic and honored, and that this perhaps says something about the witness of religious life in contemporary society. The absolute centrality of promises to the preservat~ion of the quality of human existence has been strongly stressed b);' various authors, bi~t none has made the case more' strongly than the philosopher, Hannah Arendt; In her book, The Human Condition, Miss Arendt pinpoints two factors essential to the preservation of~ life from chaos. The first is forgiveness, or the undoing of mistakes of the past. The second is the faculty to make and keep promises. The first obviously deals with the past. The second concerns the future. The ability to make promises and keep them builds on the reality.of forgiveness, and Mi~s Arendt always keeps the two together. But for our VOLUME 29; "1970 ' "" 829 ]. Foster, O.F.~I. ~EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 830 purposes here, we must look especially close at what she says about promise. The making of promises is an expression of one of the most ancient needs of man. In fact the two great institu-tions of western society were built on promises. The Jew-ish- Christian religion grew out of the covenants of Abra-ham with God. And the Roman empire built a legal system on the inviolability of agreements and treaties. This is not surprising. For man's experience of himself in history has revealed a twofold "darkness." The first is his inability to rely on or have complete faith in himself: The second is the unpredictability of human events. And so man, both to insure his own survival and to make his society an increasingly hospitable one, from the very be-ginning has gone out to his fellowman in promise and covenant. He has come to rely on and count on his fel-lows. Promise is what holds society together and staves off barbarity, barbarity both in the forms of totalitarian domination and in the unstructured freedom of anarchy. Although Miss Arendt's primary purpose in treating the faculty of promise is to show that it lies at the very foundation of society, she does not ignore its value for the growth of the individual, which she sees in the con-text of the preservation of one's integrity: Without being bound in the fulfilment of promises, we would never be able to keep our identities; we would be con-demned to wander helplessly and without direction in the darkness of each man's lonely heart, caught in its contradic-tions and equivocalities--a darkness which only the light shed over the public realm through the presence of others, who con-firm the identity between the one who promises and the one who. fulfils can dispel" (The Human Condition, Doubleday Anchor Books, p. 21B). Promise combines with forgiveness, as Miss Arendt sees it, to form the basis of morality. For "these moral pre-cepts [forgiveness and promise] arise . directly out of the will to live together with others., and thus they are like control mechanisms built into the very faculty to start new and unending processes" (p. 221). It is here also that she stresses the creative and life-sustaining force of forgiveness and promise. For if we could not forgive mis-takes and if we could not re-establish firm bonds through promise, then society would be trapped by the "law of mortality" and would steadily wind itself down to death. Forgiveness and promise together make newness con-stantly possible. And as such they are the foundations for the Christian view of life--faith and hope: faith that is fidelity to the convenant, and hope that is created both in this fidelity and in forgiveness. What is important, I think, about Miss Arendt's com-ments is that they place the taking and keeping of vows not in the context of what it can do for the individual but rather of how the taking of vows enters into the very bloodstream of human society. She speaks eloquently of promise as confronting the "darkness" of human exist-ence, of staving off "ruin and destruction," of the "mira-cle that saves the world." She also cites Nietzsche's com-ment that promise is the very distinction which marks off human from animal life. It is precisely to this larger context therefore that we must shift some of our discus-sion of religious vows. Far from being an anachronistic kind of slavery exercised by religious orders to maintain their survival, religious vows must be seen, in Miss Arendt's perspective, as an expression of man's striving not only for survival, but for dignity as well. To further emphasize this perspective, we must focus very precisely on the kind of promises religious make. It is not a promise to complete the transaction of a deal, to run a hospital, to cook forever, or just to do anything. It is a promise to be, and as such a deep commitment and trust. We can forgive someone who does not keep a prom-ise to do something, and we can perhaps survive in a society in which this failure to deliver is relatively fre-quent. But how much can we tolerate of a society that ¯ does not keep its promises to be? When people make great commitments of personal loyalty and then opt out in large numbers, what effect, we must ask, does this have on society at large? And when they go a step further, frequently in justification, and refuse promise at all, or make expressions of loyalty that are weak, decidedly ter-minal and often vague and open-ended, what, we must fnrther ask, effect does this have on society? Does it weaken the ties between men? Is this abandonment of covenant intensifying in a' way that has not occurred to us at all the increasing lack of trust and rising hostility in our society? Does it raise again on a new front, and per-haps the last one, the question: "~¥ho can you connt on?" I suggest that religious have a serious responsibility to raise these issues. They are perhaps the last people in the world in which the free offering of total loyalty has been taken for granted as a matter of policy. Because of this professed commitment, they have been witnessing some-thing to the world, namely, that it is possible to be loyal and trustworthy on a grand scale. They have advanced the ideals of mankind a great milestone. And now sud-denly they have reversed this witness, first in practice, now in theory. The anger and resentment, shock and frustration of many people over the vast exodus from vows, now settling into a flat cynicism, comes as no sur-prise. Religious cannot simply dismiss this anger and cy-nicism with the comment: "They'll get used to it." This may very well be the tragedy we can least afford~that men should get used to it. ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 831 ¯ Perhaps then if there is any validity tO these questions another dimension must be added to the mission of reli-gious today. If, as Miss Arendt suggests, the power of making and keeping promises is our bulwark against chaos or repression, if, as Nietszche asserts, fidelity is what distinguishes us from animals, then the question of vows is not merel.y a question of the internal life of a particu-lar community or of individual religious. It is joined to the very issue of human survival. My suggestion, then, is that as religious weigh' the relevance of taking of not taking vows, of their leaving or dissolution, to the per-sonal fulfilment of the individual religious, they also seri-ously discuss again the impact this same taking or aban-doning of vows has for society at large. The problems of the individual religious in an institute that he or she feels is inhibiting or irrelevant or itself unfaithful to its own profession are real eno.ugh to us. They have preoccupied religious for the past several years. But what about this same religious in relationship to a world in which indi-viduals and groups are drifting further and further apart 'because of the decay of trust and faithfulness? Do not religious perhaps have a mission here too? Today most religious orders, in their renewal, are concerned about "going out to the ~orld," trying to be relevant. It would be most ironic, not to say tragic, if what the world most needs, trust and loyalty, were precisely what religious are s'o busily unpacking and heaving overboard. ]. Foster,~O~F.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 832 KATHRYN LINDEMANN, O.P. Toward a Definition of "Communi " The problem. During the past few years there has been much debate among American religious concerning "community." "What is community?" and "What do you mean by community?" are two frequently heard ques-tions. This article does not attempt to totally resolve these questions since any further "total solutions" would only add to the present confusion. This paper does attempt to disentangle the discussion and to introduce clarifications which, will make resolu-tion possibl~. To this end it begins with a consideration of the present state of the issue. Then there is a non-po-lemic exposition of the meaning of "community" as found in current literature. Finally there is an indication of some still unanswered questions concerning "commun-ity" which seem important for continued progress toward a clear definition of "community." ¯ .4 first inquiry and a prol~ered solution. The fact that American religious are asking about "community" seems to indicate that they are aware of confusion and are seek-ing to remedy it. Confronted by this confusion, a normal query is: Why such a difficulty concerning "community"? One proffered solution has been to postulate something about the word itself~some attribute which defies defini-tion. "Community," like patriotism, becomes a Wittgen-steinian "slogan word" which is too ambiguous for defini-tion. Such a proposal is both logically unsound and a breeder of irrationality. If one analyzes it, one finds: 1. It accepts the generalization: "If x is a slogan word, then x precludes definition." 2. The postulation is then argued: since the definition of 'community' engenders much confusion, "com-munity" must be a slogan word. Since slogan words are indefinable, then "community" must be indefin-able. This is viciously circular. It assumes what it claims to ÷ Kathryn Linde-mann, O.P., lives at Mr. St. Mary Col-lege' in .,Newburgh, N.Y. 12550. VOLUME',29, '1970 . ~ ÷ ÷ Kathryn Linde- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 834 prove. The statement of the generalization only acts as camouflage. If one wants to conclude that a slogan word is not definable, one cannot assume it is a slogan word because it is indefinable. In the practical order, the proposal leads to subjectiv: ism and a canonization of irrationality. If "community" is indefinable, then there is no procedure for discussing: what it is; what engenders it; what destroys it. Two indi-viduals have no way of ascertaining if they use the term with the same meaning. They are condemned to unknow-ing or subjectivism. Since rationality depends on com-monness, no rational procedures of discussion or decision are possible. Thus all those groups of American religious now committed to the conscious renewal of community can have no use for rationality in their endeavors. At best, community renewal needs to be relegated to some irrational force. A second proposal. The above is not the only possible explanation for the confusion concerning "community." There is also an explanatory avenue opened by the no-tion of the theory laden texture of terms. In Patterns of Discovery, Norman l~ussell Hanson explores the relation between theory and particular observations, facts, and terms. He contends that scientific observation, fact, and meaning are only possible within the context of a theory. Further, he holds that each of these three are theory determined. Thus, two men experiencing the same sense data of orange color patch moving upward through an orange tinted visual field at 6:50 a.m. Eastern Standard Time in Newburgh, New York, might observe two dif-ferent things. One operating in a Ptolemaic framework observes the sun rising. The other operating in a Coper-nican framework observes the earth turning. If each spoke of the "morning event," "morning event" would have, in a certain sense, a different meaning for each.1 Hanson often cites such theory determination of termi-nological meaning: If, in the blank pages of a next year's diary, we find the word 'fire' in the place reserved for St. Valentine's day, no action would suggest itself. Consider another man shouting 'Fire'; but now he is in uniform, hovering over a busy gun crew. Were we members of that crew, our response would be automatic . In other contexts 'fire' might herald a worker's dismissal, or the entrance of a Wagnerian soprano amid pyro-technics. It can signal a phase in the making of pottery, de-scribe how an actress reads her part, or designate some primi-tive rite . 'Fire' has, in each situation, a propositional force; it is shorthand for complex statements whose nature is clear from the contexts of utterance. We are not born able to recog-nize such contexts., for that we need education.2 X Norman Russell Hanson, Patterns o] Discovery (Cambridge: Cambridge University, 1965), pp. 7-8. 2 Ibid., p. 63. And again: When the youngster says 'lightning and thunder' he prob-ably means 'flash and rumble.' Again, a lot may follow, but what follows for him is different from what follows for the meteorologist--for whom 'lightning and thunder' probably means 'electrical discharge and aerial disturbance.' 8 ~lpplication to the question of community. In order to see the relation of this theory laden texture of terms to the present confusion among American religious, one needs to know something of the recent intellectual his-tory of religious groups. Since 1949 there has been what Thomas Kuhn would call a "paradigm shift" in religious life.4 Any comparative study of congregational constitu-tions of 1949 and 1969, of the 1949 and 1969 issues of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, or of books dealing with the theory of religious life from that span of years, gives multitudinous evidence of this paradigm change. In this paradigm shift, the term "community" is one which has been strongly affected. It has moved from a peripheral to a central position and has acquired a new extension. This change in "community" cannot be considered in isolation from the total theory of religious life. The change in meaning actually occurred as a result of changes in other areas of the theoretic system. A change of perception concerning certain areas made for new ways of seeing many other areas. And as the whole theory changed, each specific term was affected. Having noted the theory-laden-texture of terms and the fact of paradigm change in religious life, one can now locate reasons for the present confusion concerning "com-munity." These reasons are embedded in two specific fea-tures of the theoretical change among American religious. First, the change has not been a single-stroke event. Sec-ond, the "new theory~' has not yet reached stasis. First, the change in the religious life paradigm has not been a single stroke event. It is a process event whose history can be mapped. See Figure I. Given Theory A (the paradigm at n) and the innovations (I . I5), one finds a transformation in theory during stages n+l. n+5. The first outlines of Theory B become evident at stage n+5. Most often, one thinks of the theory only at stage n (theory A) or stage n+5 (theory B) since at these stages the theory is in stasis. These two stages represent "para-digms" as Kuhn refers to them and the change from paradigm A to parad@n B is a "revolution" in the Kuhnian sense. It is a fact, however, and one at which ~ Ibid., p. 61. 'Thomas Kuhn, The Structure o] Scientific Revolutions (Chi-cago: University of Chicago, 1962), pp. 43ff. ÷ ÷ + "Community" VOLUME 29, :970 835 Theory elements oO OoOo oo\o o\ o o -o n n-'l-1 n÷2 n+3 n÷4 n-~-5 Figure ] 4. 4. 4- Kathryn Linde. mann REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Kuhn hints several times, that the intermediary stages exist.5 Now, as is normal in the innovation and diffusion o[ ideas, all members o[ religious congregations do not ac-cept theoretic innovation or revision at the same rate.e Since the acceptance of theoretical innovations is not simultaneous and universal, different individuals within the total population o[ religious may be in different ~tages of theory revision at any given time (n+l. n+5). Since terms are theory determined, such members, being at different theoretic stages, mean different things by " com~munity." Since the dynamics of any change are seldom pondered at the same time as the change is occurring, given reli-gious are usually unaware of the specific theoretic stage they are in. Further, they may not realize that theirs is one stage in a process continuing toward a new paradigm and stasis.7 Thus, one has the situation in which individ-uals will notice that there .are apparent differences in meaning concerning "community" (or a number of other ~ Ibid., pp. 84-7, 89, 128-9. e Everett M. Rogers, Diffusion of Innovations (New York: Free Press, 1968). ~Note, for example, the many expressions of conviction among religious that there will never again be a stasis in religious life or theory. terms such as prayer, apostolate, or common life) but will be at a loss to either: articulate the differences with any precision, or to explain the differences through an enun-ciation of the theory which determines their meanings. This is a major source of the confitsion concerning "com-munity" at the present time. . Second, it is not until a theory approaches stasis that all the relations among particular elements are enunci-ated with any precision. To the extent that this precision is absent, there is an inescapable vagueness about any term endemic to the theory. Most congregations have enunciated the major outlines of the new paradigm in their constitutions. Yet all refer to their constitutional documents as interim or experi-mental, and all expect to produce a more finished prod-uct in a few years. Congregations have built in a time span for working out the practical and theoretic interre-lations among various elements,s The new paradigm is not yet articulated with full precision, and so a certain vagueness concerning a key term such as "community" is inescapable. Until this full precision is reached, a certain confusion will remain in the meaning and use of "com-munity." Summary. The theory laden texture of terms proposal succeeds in answering the first query concerning the why of the present confusion about "community," whereas the indefinability proposal did not. This theory laden texture notion indicates a double source of confusion: the simul-taneous operation of multiple versions of theories within the groups and the lack of precision in the newest theory because it has not yet reached stasis. Having dealt with the first query, the study needs to move on to the next: "How is 'community' defined in the new paradigm among religious?" ~ What Is "Community"? Method. To avoid arguing some of the philosophical issues attendant upon "meaning," "definition," or "expli-cation" this paper will approach the problem a poste-riori. There will be an examination of the literature for religious to see what meaning is already established in relation to "community." From this information, there will be an attempt at precise definition or explication. The two paradigms. The general accounts of "com- S As established in Ecclesiae sanctae, au apostolic letter issued on August 6, 1966, by Pope Paul VI (reprinted iu REVIEW FOR REL~CIoUS, V. 25 (1966), pp. 939--70. ~The meaning of "community" in the old paradigm has re-ceived adequate treatment by sociologists, historians, and theo-logians. The elements of the new paradigm, however, have seldo~n been subject to collection and analysis. ÷ ÷ ÷ "Community" VOLUME 29, 1970 - 837 + ÷ ÷ Kath~ Linde- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS munity" diverge gr~eatly between the old (1949) and the new (1969) paradigms of religious life. Since a contrast often helps specify a complicated term, a general account of "community" as it appears in each of these basic theo-ries is presented first. When one studies old constitutions, those in effect in the forties and fifties, one finds: 1. The term "community" is rarely used. 2. When it is used it is capitalized as a proper noun-- denoting a particular (person, place or thing). 3. It seems to have a non-personal, "thing-like" quality common to collective nouns used in the "otherness" of the third person. 4. Sometimes the word designates a local group, while at other times it refers to an entire group. In the lat-ter instances, one mentally substitutes the word, "Congregation" or "Institute," both of which occur far more frequently in these early documents. Point four seems to strike the terminological core, for the meaning of "community" is primarily that of a hier-archical organization. Almost every sentence utilizing the Word "community" would retain its meaning if "organi-zation" were substituted. Further, the literary structure of these constitutions of the forties and fifties seems domi-nated by the organizational model. They set out goals; they cite organizational procedures for attaining the goals; and they define each person in terms of her role in the organization. They state the duties of the role (posi-tion in the organization), the prerequisites for possessing this role (be it that of an ordinary member or an officer), and the privileges of the role. The documents join a second model to that of hierar-chical organization. There is an interpersonal ideal of a familial society which is most compatible with that of a hierarcical organizational model. Officers are compared to parent figures. As such they ought to give and receive love and concern in a way which officers of an organiza-tion usually do not. Thus, in a unified model of hierar-chical- organization-family one provides an ideal for the lived situation of religious life. Newer constitutions, those of the sixties, present dif-ferent features: 1. "Community" is a common word; it appears time after time. 2. In most documents there is a definite distinction between community-as-organization and communi-ty- as-people. 3. Most, at least implicitly, deny "community" of the hierarchical organization model. "Community" de-notes, a primary group with strong interpersonal ties. This interpersonal notion is often extended to the congregation-as-community or the larger, civic, community. Although texts vary, the following is typical: Religious life is a loving community of free consecrated persons, sharing their lives, their worship, their service and their celibacy. A distinctive mark of the religious life is to be found in the fact that this living of Christ's life, this witnessing to His values, is lived corporately?° The function of a religious community is twofold. The first is to provide the climate for its members to grow to full stature as free persons in an ever deepening union with Christ, and for the sake of His Kingdom to be available to serve individually and corporately the needs of men. The second is to present a threefold witness in the eyes of the persons it serves: a living witness to Christ and His values, a sacrament of Christ's continued presence among men, and a sign of hope that community, which is the only mode of existence proper to men, can be a reality?1 When one looks for a model to explain this use of "community," one tends toward the community of scholars or St. Paul's my.stical body model. Religious community is the union of equals through interpersonal relationships. Each individual gives some service to the group: the serv-ice of authority, of information, of support, and so forth. Further the community itself is situated in relation to other communities. Religious community is always seen as a microcosm of the larger community of the Church and as such the religious community has an intimate re-lation to the People of God (Church) and the world com-munity.~ 2 Distinction. in terminology. Hence forward this paper will speak of the general account of community as found in the 1949 paradigm as "community1" and that in the 1969 paradigm as "community2". At present few religious make such an explicit distinc-tion. A single term, "community," is used for both mean-ings, although some religious are beginning to say that although both are called "community" only the 1969 paradigm expresses real community. Toward a Definition of "Community2" The term. In analyzing the common use of "community,;', one finds a distinction clearly made be-tween "having community2" and "being a community,". The latter is a wider term which necessarily includes the former. 10Sisters of the Third Order of St. Dominic of the Congregation of Our Lady of the Sacred Heart, Religious Lile: Lived Reality (Grand Rapids, Michigan: 1969), p. 4. n Ibid., p. 10. ~ Yves M. J. Congar, o.P., "The Theology of Religious Women," REv~w for RELIGIOUS, V. 19 (1960), p. 26. ÷ ÷ ÷ " ommunity" VOLUME 29, 1970 859 ÷ + + Kathryn Linde. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Having community,". The instances in which the term "having community2" is clearly applied reveal three nec-essary elements: a group of persons, united in sharing "goods," and either a resulting witness to Christian values or personal growth of some members. First, intuitions may indicate the last (witness or growth) as non-necessary, but when one discusses specific examples with members of religious congregations, one finds a hesitancy to apply "community2" to anything lack-ing a result in witness or personal growth. Confronted by an example exhibiting the first two characteristics of (1) a group and (2) sharing goods, which lacks, however, the third characteristic of witness or growth, members tend to say: "Maybe the witness or growth was really there but you didn't notice it"; or: "If there was no witness or growth you only thought you had community, but you really didn't." Hence this third characteristic is included as a necessary element for "having community2",is In pressing for precision, one finds that each of these characteristics is a term with its own range or extension: I. group of persons--extends to all persons united in groups, ranging from the smallest group of three to the largdst number so designatable. 2. sharing goods--extends to all goods, both internal and external, which can be shared by humans. In the context of "having community2" at least one internal good must be present, but any number of additional internal or external goods may be present also. 3. witness or personal growth extends to (1) all witness to Christian values and (2) all growth in personal maturity. "Having community2" is the term applied to the event which occurs when all three of these characteristics inter-sect. More formally. One may say that "x has community," if and only if: x is a group of persons; and there exists at least one y such that y is an internal good and x shares y; and either x gives witness to Christian values, or there is at least one z such that z is a member of the group's union in sharing and z grows in maturity as a result of this mem-bership. "Being a community2". When one examines the use of "being a community2" by religious, several crucial cases reveal themselves: 1. If a group "has community.o" frequently for several 18One is struck by the difficulty of making empirical observa-tions of personal growth or witness to othe,~. Yet this is how the term is used by religious. This study proposes to describe, to cite extension of terms, not to evaluate them as "true to reality," "false to reality," and so forth. weeks but then illness or work prohibits this "hav-ing community2" for awhile, no one denies the .group still is a community. All consider the non-hav-ang of community as a temporary condition which does not destroy the being-a-communi.ty of the group. On the othei: hand, all agree that an absence of "having community2" continued for a long enough period, would negate the gr9up's being a community. 2. If a group lives together for some time but shares little more than their domicile, no one designates them as "being a community2". 3. Groups experiencing two or three instances of in-tense "having-community2" are assigned a status of "being a community2" equivalent to other groups which have eight or nine experiences of community on a much lower level of intensity. To preserve these designations of being a community, this researcher proposes a function, C: frequency of having community X intensity of having communityt4 the total duration (or proposed duration) of the group All items having a C result of at least 0.3 are described as "being a community2". They fall in the extension of the tenn. Thus one can replace the externally vague term "being a community2" with the clearly defined one of "any x, where x is an item having a C function of at least 0.3." Some criticisms o[ the above analysis. There is much lacking in this whole analysis. This lack extends both to the theological and to the empirical dimensions of the discussion. First, theological aspects, for example, the cen-trality of Christ in community, are not explored in this rather philosophical approach. Yet these aspects are most important parts of the notion of community. Second, em-pirical aspects are incomplete. The method of finding the intensity of community noted in footnote 14 is inade-quate. Also, there have been no empirical studies to jus-tify, for example, the choice of 0.3 as the limit for "being a community2". Indeed, there is a lack of precise data for much of this discussion. The Task Remaining ÷+ American religious need to continue to explore this + notion of "community." They need to listen carefully to 1, The intensity of community is a function obtained by assign-ing positive integers to the elements contained in the range of each characteristic necessary for "having community.". The product of these integers indicates the level of intensity of "having com-munity.'. VOLUME 29, 1970 841 what others are saying about community and to note exactly where their statements agree and where they dif-fer. And when they find that they differ, religious need to be willing to continue the discussion. They need to find the reason for the differences. Sometimes it will be a false difference caused by incomplete communication of mean-ing. in other cases there may be a real difference. When religious reach the point of finding the exact differences, they are then keady to begin the honest dialogue common to every discipline which is alive and healthy. Out of such dialogue can come a truer understanding of '~com-munity" and perhaps a revitalization of their communal living. Perhaps, too, such dialogue will result in the reali-zation that although "community1" and "community2" have appeared as opposing theories, they are not antitheti-cal notions. They describe two different aspects of the same phenomenon. The above is an ambitious plan for religious. It is also difficult. Yet real analysis, the foe of polemic, is not only difficult it is very necessary. Emotivity makes poor theo-retic justification, and no theory can claim reasoned alle-giance if its advocates are not willing to utilize the pro-cessses of reason. Kathryn Lind¢- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS RICHARD M. McKEON, S.J. Retirement Policy for Religious With an increasing number of people enjoying a longer span of life many religious should be alert to the fact that they too will hit the retiring age before they realize it. Yes, retirement for older religious is finally being recognized formally. To many retirement will come as a shock. They will think that they have reached tlae end of the line and that they will drift rapidly into the hereafter. It is time that all religious orders wake up to this new problem. They must have programs to acquaint their older members with all facets of what retirement means. In this respect a great deal can be learned from the world of industry where programs have been in effect for many years. Later we shall discuss some of these and try to apply their wisdom to our older religious. Superiors who are formulating programs must face this issue squarely. Why should the accumulated experience and developed talent be lost to apostolic endeavors merely because a certain age for retirement is at hand? Here is capital which should be yielding dividends. If older religious are forced to coast along waiting for Ga-briel's horn to summon them to give an account of their stewardship, that accounting will be harder to make. Time has value. Time lost is never regained: "Some secrets of the well-rounded retired life are these: make the most of what you have; wherever you are, go with your whole heart; keep your eye on what's coming up, not on what's slipping by; play your role with comeliness; do not let the minutes rust away" (Bank of Canada Monthly Letter, December 1967). It is presumed after long years in religion one has a true sense of values. Before retirement each one should assess his own possibilities and plan to achieve new goals. Many opportunities will arise to afford an active life within one's mental and physical condition. What do older religious in good health want? They Richard McKeon, S.J., teaches at Le Moyne College; Syr-acuse, N.Y. 13214. VOLUME 29, 1970 8~5 ÷ R. M. McKeon; Sd. REVIEW FOR REI~?IOU~S want to remain active and to do good as long as possible; to utilize their special talents; to receive the same respect they commanded in middle age. Rightfully they expect the functional policies and the traditions of religious life to be practiced in their regard. The older religious must be convinced of being heart-edly in earnest in what he can still do. Discouragement and difficulties will be challenges. He must have a firm resolve to carry on. If he has a reputation for special gifts, rightly may he expect others to approach him. To quote the Talmud: "If you see a man of understanding, get you betimes to him, and let your foot wear out the steps of his door." At least once a year, usually during retreat, he should make an honest appraisal of himself: "How is my health? Have I checked with a doctor? Have I reviewed my work of the past year to see what I have done well? What mistakes .have been made? What are my plans for the coming year? Have I determined to keep my mind alert, to keep feeding my mind by study so as to contribute to my up-to-dateness and the germination of ideas?" Richard Butler, O.P., warns: "Those approaching old age should prepare themselves for the trial ahead by strengthening their faith, patching up the holes in their characters, stiffening their self-reliance, developing new and sustaining interests, discovering orientations of ac-tivity that will endure and will provide some amount of satisfaction for them" (America, November 19, 1966). Good ideas can be picked up from ordinary literature on retirement. For men and women who have been highly educated and employed in apostolic work it would be better to study what is going on in the field of indus-try and business. Special research studies on retirement have been made at the California Institute of Technology, the University of Michigan, and the University of Chicago. The Caltech report suggests "a model program and a variety of ways in which it can be adapted to different company situa-tions." These studies are recommended to religious orders which are preparing programs. A digest of the program at Esso will afford some help-ful suggestions. First, changes in life expectancy are ex-plained. Then it tells how millions in the over 65 age group are non-productive but still consumers. In a word, when a worker retires, he is no longer productive to the country, profitable to the company, and useful to himself. Compulsory retirement is explained together with the benefits offered through social security and pensions. But more accent is placed on the sociological problem--how the retiree can be active, fruitful, and constructive. Esso offers help and counsel to each worker to think through his new situation. The company "feels that retirement is something earned by faithful service, a form of 'graduation' into a new phase of life rather than a 'casting out' process. Re-tirement should be the opportunity for the employee to enjoy the fruits of his labors in freedom, leisure and relaxation as well as an opportunity to serve himself, his family and his community in ways not open to him dur-ing his working career." A year before the set date group discussions are held covering topics such as health, planning for the future, what has been done, and so on. Plenty of appropriate literature is available. Each prospective retiree is pre-sented with a copy of How to Retire and Enjoy It by Ray Giles (McGraw-Hill). The Wall Street Journal frequently publishes articles on how retired executives keep busy, Their prime motiva-tion is not to make money for themselves, but to help others in trouble. Although some go into real estate and others start small businesses, many of the best become consultants as a challenging occupation. They form com-panies to give their specialized skills to small firms which need professional advice. The Mohawk Development Service of Schenectady, New York, has an excellent record of over twenty-five years. It is composed of former General Electric Company executives who have pooled their talent and experience. At Wilmington, Delaware, a similar group of Du Pont managers is engaged in a variety of projects. Charles H. Kellstadt retired as chairman of Sears, Roe-buck in 1962. At 72 in 1970 he is chairman and president of the General Development Corporation, one of Flori-da's largest land companies. He took over when things were in very bad shape. Today the corporation is most prosperous. His goal is to do a $250-million business a year. Religious orders should become a, cquainted with the International Executive Service Corps. Here is a magnifi-cent contribution which American executives are making in helping developing nations to help themselves. Its work should inspire qualified older religious to do some-thing similar to aid the foreign missions. The ISEC is a non-profit organization with headquar-ters in New York. It sends seasoned executives to counsel companies in the poorer lands. There is no salary but travel and living expenses are assured. Within the past five years a total of 1244 projects have been successfully completed in 45 countries. Optimism and the challenge of difficult problems have ÷ ÷ ÷ R. M. McKeon, $.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 846 given these men a new interest in life. They work with the native managers, not over them. Their know-how is eagerly sought. Using tact and patience they guide local managers to realize their own great potential Helping others to help themselves, who in turn will help thou-sands more, is certainly a high type of social action. Sylvia Porter in her column for December 16, 1969 paid tribute to the IESC and then put the question which might be put to older religious: "Why couldn't the con-cept be brought back home so that men and women in this age bracket work as volunteers in the ghetto and rural poverty areas of our own land?'" Our religious could make a great contribution here. "Life is only exciting when you are contributing in the mainstream." Keeping in mind what retired executives have done, let us make application to religious. First of all, those who have been superiors for a long time are still human. With a fair record of successful management, there is danger that many will regard themselves as indispensable. Every undertaker will contradict this statement. They have bur-ied too many. But to former superiors retirement does come as a shock. In industry it is maintained that compulsory retire-ment is the only way to clear out executive deadwood. Many of us know that it is a very touchy to mention possible retirement to an old superior: "Top manage-ment generally considers the subject as unmentionable as bereavement." Older religious might take a hint from the remark of a wise judge: "Retirement implies at least part of the motive power must originate in the person whose status is to be changed. Children are put to bed---adults retire." They should also remember that once the tension of their past job is over, arteriosclerosis might hit them with a stroke. Older religious should find comfort of mind if they have done their work faithfully in the past. As the time for retirement approaches, there should be no real repug-nance in letting quaIified younger people take over. If those in authority had signaled out men with executive ability and given them opportunity for training, there would be less trouble. Let us be blunt. Formerly, older people were respected, their advice was sought for, younger folk delighted to learn of their experiences. No longer in positions of au-thority, they soon find they are being ignored. Take a retiree who is removed from apostolic action which domi-nated his past life. Now assign him to a house for retirees as has been suggested. His health is still good. His mind is alert. But there is nothing to challenge it. He begins to feel unwanted, morose, and he gradually loses interest in things with which he was formerly associated. In such a state of mind death is bound to come more rapidly. In many universities and colleges religious teachers must retire when they reach the same age as set for lay teachers. Without a proper program they may be placed in isolation, as just noted, with no demand for their services. Edward F. Heenan, S.J., has written that many religious groups "have been increasingly enticed to adopt the bureaucratic business model in an effort to more effectively operationalize their goals." Retirement need not mean the end of the road. It should be accepted as a challenge. It means an awareness of the personal ability of the religious to perform, to continue .productively, and to make older life worth the living for one's self and others. Longfellow has put this Challenge attractively: For age is opportunity no less Than youth itself, though in another dress, And, as the evening twilight fades away, The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day. In the past a religious, like any other active person, got recognition and identity for the work he was doing. He could possess a just pride in his accomplishments. By the same token, when he does special work as a retiree, he should receive due praise. Many religious are truly hum-ble. Nevertheless all men appreciate recognition for any job well done. It does boost morale. On the other hand, there is the problem of rejection. To feel rejected, especially by those with whom one was closely associated, often causes a heavy strain on the nerves. It can easily make an older religious irritable and upset his health. We maintain it is a fatal mistake to put a healthy, older religious in a home for retirees. It will depress him. With nothing to challenge a once busy person he will rapidly decline in health, mental and physical. For example, if a religious has been at a college for the past ten or more years before retirement age, then we hold there is really a moral obligation to keep him as a member of the community as long as his health holds up. Why? Because to separate him from the familiar atmos-phere where he knows his fellow religious and they know him, from his friends on the faculty and from people in the local community would be dreadful in its conse-quences. It is here that he can continue to do more good than elsewhere: "Familiar things and places are priceless as we grow older--make no mistake about that." Dr. Edmund V. Cowdry, Washington University, St. Louis, an authority on gerontology, states: "More impor-tant than any other single factor is the old person's need Retirement VOLUME 29, 1970 for a community of interests. Nature seems to have or-dained that those who abdicate from life socially will soon abdicate from life physically." Where should there be a better community of interests than in the house where the religious has been living for years? Father Heenan remarks: "The closer the community approaches the communal idea of integrating and providing for the needs of every member, the more successful the aging process." A bureaucracy might be more efficient but it would tend to depersonalize and estrange the members. A mature religious should know that leisure for pleas-ure's sake alone will not bring happiness. But there is that approved pleasure which comes from doing good to others, especially the less fortunate. Instead of the deceits of idleness there can be a modified form of asceticism. There can be early rising with sincere attention to reli-gious duties. Planning for and being prudently busy with the needs of others will improve health. Two qualities will help the retirees: "They do enthusiastically .what-ever they are doing, and they get deepdown joy out of very simple things." Accordingly it is very foolish to think that retirement means the cessation of activities and merely a vegetating process. Retirement should be dynamic. One must beware of tyrannical trifles which can enslave. Too much televi-sion with its many insipid programs can mark a mental decline. In the 1955 Governor's Conference on the Aging in New York it was held that "religion is the key to a happy old age because man is essentially a spiritual and social bbing. The aged turn to religion even if they have been lax in their youth." What, then, Of men and women dedicated to God, who now have the time and conveni-ence to make up for past neglect because of distraction in the workingday world? There can be a renewal of spirit-ual life and a practice of reparation to gain grace to face bravely the reality of their new status. Since Vatican Council II changes in training have been made to meet the needs of younger religious. They have been very frank about what they need to be effective in a challenging new world. By the same token, older reli-gious should be outspoken in presenting their needs and claims. That is why at the young age of seventy-three I am writing this defense. R. M. McKeon, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELI{;IOUS 848 SISTER DOROTHY COONS, B.V.M. Life Style Study: Convent Li g This study of the pattern of religious living as it is carried out in the various convents of the Sisters of Char-ity of the Blessed Virgin Mary was undertaken as a part of a series of such studies of modern religious living that have been made in the past five years (see l~vmw for I~LIG~OUS, March 1970). The instrument used was constructed by Sister Cather-ine Leonard with the help of the other members of the Commission on Experimentation and Research, espe-cially Sister Helen Thompson and Sister Mary Kenneth Keller. The latter was responsible for processing the data on the computer. Questions Examined Four major questions gave direction to this study: To what extent do the sisters living in the traditional con-vent life style feel that this is providing them with necessary support in community living? What are the topics of concern in these convents? ¯ To what extent is there satisfaction or dissatisfaction with the life style, and what changes would be desirable in the cases where there is dissatisfaction? What are some of the general characteristics of the local communities in the areas of common liturgical experiences, in living arrangements, and in financial arrangements? Group Studied The questionnaires were sent to approximately 1800 sisters living in 153 convents. Those living in apartments and the patients in Marian Hall were not included. A total of almost 1300 sisters from 151 convents responded. According to the number of years in the congregation, the respondents fell into the following categories: ÷ Sister Dorothy Coom, BN.M., is chairman of [BVM] Commission on Ex-perimentation and Research at Clarke College; Dubuque, Iowa 52001. VOLUME 29, 1970' 849 Years in the Congregstion Number Percent 0-4 23 1.7 6.6 10-19 953 19.6 20-29 231 17.9 30-39 273 21.2 Over 40 415 32.1 $i~t~r D~rothy REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 850 This distribution is similar to that of the entire congre-gation with the exception of the oldest group who num-ber approximately 42% of the total. To a lesser degree the groups in the 5-10+ years differ from the general distri-bution because it is in these age groups that most of those living in apartments fall. In 49 of the 151 houses 100% of the sisters living there responded; 136 houses sent responses from more than half of the sisters; 15 houses were represented by less than half; and two did not return any of the questionnaires. Support in Community Provided by Convent Life Style Certain items on the questionnaire were included to bring out the general characteristics of "community," es-pecially those which provide mutual support for those living together. These questions and the results for both the congregation as a whole and when subdivided accord-ing to years in the congregation are given in Table I. While there are differences in the percentage responses to the positive questions, on the whole they are clearly above the 50% levels, ranging from 91.3% agreement with "Sisters seem concerned for one another" to 73.9% agreement with "Sisters like to be together" and "Com-munication among the sisters in our house is good." There is a similar picture shown by the disagreement with such negative items as "Money is a source of ten-sion" and "Communi.ty life suffers because the sisters are out doing other things." There is a surprising degree of agreement on the items that reflect a supportive atmos-phere among the various age groups. Figure 1, for exam-ple, shows that there is a high degree of agreement among all age categories on the item, "Communication is good," and that the disagreement is slightly higher among those in the 5-9 and 10-19 year group. There is also a slightly higher rate of disagreement on the part of the sisters in the 5-9 years in the congregation on the item: "Sisters plan together or in groups things that the whole house will enjoy," as shown in Figure 2. On the other hand, one of the most significant items, "Sisters in the house seem concerned for one another," shows fairly uniform agree-ment and disagreement in all age groups. See Figure 3. On a somewhat similar item: "Sisters like to be together," the pattern of responses is different. See Figure 4. + + + % 100 75 50 25 0 [] Agree [] Disagree O- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Figure 1. Communication is Eood. % 100 75 5O 25 O, 0- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Figure 2. Sisters plan to-gether. % lOO 75 50 25 o 0- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Figure 3. Sisters seem con-cerned for one another. % lOOI 75 5O 25 0- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Figure 4. Sisters like to be together. + + + Sister Dorothy REVIEW.FOR RELIGIOUS 852 The two items that would ideally be answered by disa-greement, "Money is a source of tension," and "Commun-ity life suffers because the sisters are out so often doing other.things," showed unexpected results. The similarity of the results for both agreement and disagreement as shown in Figure 5 suggests that, at least among those responding to the questionnaire, money is not the prob-lem that it is generally thought to be. Figure 6 shows a higher percentage of agreement on the item, "Commun-ity life suffers because the sisters are out so often doing other things," among the older age groups. While this might have been expected, the actual difference is not as great as could have been predicted. Topics of Concern It was hoped that areas of concern could be identified by the items that are frequently topics of discussion. These were found to cover the whole range of those sug-gested, with the following results according to frequency: % 100 75 5O 25 0 % 1 O0I 75' O- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over O- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Years in the Community Figure 5. Money is a source of tension. Figure 6. Community life suffers because sisters are out so often doing other things. religious life (72%), world news (68%), house problems (68%), the Church (67%), problems of the larger BVM congregation (67%), students and their families (57%), peace and war (56%), and U.S. political issues (53%). Others were indicated as being topics of discussion by fewer than half of the respondents, with hair and clothes being in lower positions than the items of general con-cern in the world, in the country, and in the congrega-tion. Satisfaction and Dissatisfaction The question, "Given your preference, and the absence of any practical consideration that would require other-wise, would you continue to live next year under the same life style," was answered "Yes" by 947 sisters (73%) and "No" by 259 or 20%. Those who answered "No" were asked to check the form of living that they would prefer and the item most often checked was "More regu-lar daily schedule of prayer and house activity." This preference was indicated by. 138 or 10.7% of those an-swering, while the second highest condition checked was "With persons who are more congenial." The results of this section of the questionnaire were broken down in a comparison with the items that were thought to reflect "community" and the results seemed somewhat indefinite. In general, those who would prefer to remain in the same life style had higher "Agree" scores on the positive items and lower "Disagree" scores on those that were negative, and the opposite was true of those who wished to change life styles. For example, on the question, "Communication among the sisters is good," of those who would remain in the same life style, 77% agreed to the statement and 12% disagreed, while among those who would change to another life style 36% -I. + + VOLUME 29, 1970 853 ÷ .÷ ÷ Sister Dorothy REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 854 agreed to the statement and 54% disagreed. There were similar combinations of "agreement" and "disagreement" in the breakdowns of this item with "The sisters often plan together or in groups things that the whole house will enjoy," "Sisters in the house seem concerned for one another," and "Sisters in the house seem ~o like to be together." It is not clear to what extent these differences provide explanations for the desire to change life styles. There may be other explanations not touched upon by tl~is study. Characteristics of Local Communities Part I of the instrument was completed by the Com-munity Representative in each of the convents. No pat-tern of common prayer and liturgical experiences emerged. This might be due to the large number of un-answered items and to uncertainty in interpreting them. The most frequently checked item was "Celebration of the Eucharist" but the range of responses suggests that there were different interpretations to the question; for example, 25 Community Representatives checked "Sel-dom or never." This seems to indicate that there was uncertainty about whether it meant convent chapel or parish church, fora response of 100% daily celebration the Eucharist might have been expected. The rosary is still recited daily in 48 houses with an indication in 24 of them that most of the sisters attend. Vespers is said daily in 43 houses with 23 reporting that most attend. The changing pattern of prayer in the congregation is shown in Table II. Responses on the items concerning financial arrange-ments show the greatest possible variation in meeting most of the ordinary expenses. The sources include com-mon funds, personal stipend, parish, and school, and there were few items that did not fall into each of these. See Table III for items that are included, for the most part, in the three most general categories. Discussion--Interpretative Summary The study of the foregoing material and other details that were not included in the present report seem to provide a message of encouragement. It is evident that those who answered this questionnaire are, in large meas-ure, content in the convent living life style and that they feel their living situation provides them with the condi-tions for personal support that are necessary for Christian community living. A further reason for encouragement lies in the fact that, with few exceptions in the 5-19 year groups, there is no marked disagreement among the var-ious age groups in the congregation. Examination of the results of individual convents TABLE II Frequency and Attendance of Rosary and of Communal Prayer as Reported by Comraunity Representatives k,- Occ~-[Se)do=/ ~ost ~ ] Pew "__._~_~" ~ '_____~_~ s ionMl~y N eve_~_r A tten~ A tten~ 2tte2d Communal Prayerl~l~l~[~l~l~[- ~ TABLE III Methods of Meeting Ordinary Expenses as Shown by Responses of Community Representatives Common Fund Personal Stipend Both Common Fund and Personal Stipend Board/room Per capita Cook Mass stipends Gifts Insurance Spiritual reading books Household expenses Education Medical and dental Clothing Personal travel Entertainment Toll/long dis-tance telephone calls Non-prescription drugs Home visits Memberships/dues Refreshments other than meals Books other than spir-itual Carfare Use of car Professional travel showed great variation in tendencies toward general posi-tive and negative impressions. At this time, no definite score for rati

Issue 13.1 of the Review for Religious, 1954. ; A. M.D. G. Review for Religious JANUARY 15, 1954 Apparitions and Revelations . Aucjusffne ~. Ellard Screening of Candidates . WilliemC. Bier ¯Reading for Religious . Edward F. ~aresch6 Aurelian Spirituality . Sister Mary of Carmel Book Reviews Questions and Answers Communications VOLUME XIII NUMBER 1 RI VII:::W FOR RI::LIGIOUS VOLUME XIII JANUARY, 1954 NU/vlBER 1 CONTENTS APPARITIONS AND REVELATIONS: ATTITUDES TOWARD THEM Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. 3 PRACTICAL REQUIREMENTS OF A PROGRAM FOR THE PSY-CHOLOGICAL SCREENING OF CANDI-DATES- William C. Bier. S.J .13 COMMUNICATIONS . 27 READING FOR RELIGIOUS---Edward F. GareschL S.J .2.9. SPECIAL PUBLICATIONS . 34 AURELIAN SPIRITUALITY~ister Mary of Carmel, R.P.B .3.5. "APPARITIONS" OF OUR LADY . 45 PAMPHLETS AND BOOKLETS . 46 BOOK REVIEWS-- The Spiritfiality of St. Ignatius Loyola . 47 BOOK NOTICI~S . - . 48 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 49 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 1. Special Confessor for Individual Sister .53 2. Special Spiritual Director, Not Confessor .53 3. Blessing by Mother Superior' . . 54 4. Successive Terms in Different Houses .54 5. Length of Years in Office for Superior General .55 6. Terms of Office for Superior General . 55 VOCATION INSTITUTE . 56 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, January, 1954. Vol. XIII, No. 1. Published bi-monthly: January, Ma~ch, May, July, September. and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J., Adam C. Ellis, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J., Francis N. Korth, 8.3. Copyright, 1954, by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Before wrltlncj to us. please consult notice on Inside back cover. Review for Religious Volume XIII January--December, 1954 Published a÷ THE COLLEGE PRESS Topeka, Kansas Edited by THE JESUIT FATHERS SAINT MARY'S COLLEGE St. Marys, Kansas REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is in~lexe¢l in the GATHOLIG PERIODIGAL INDEX Apparit:ions and Revelat:ions: At:t:it:udes t:oward Them Augustine G. Ell~ird, S.J. ASIDE perhaps from fully cloistered nuns, one could hardly be so ill informed about what is going on in Catholic circles as not to notice how often in recent years apparitions and reve-lations from heaven have been reported and what a great stir they make among the people. Troublesome times were always wont to bring, forth a multi-tude of such prodigies. Our days, after the two world wars, the attacks of communism, the threats of atomic catastrophes, and all the disturbing effects of these great movements, are unsettled in a high degree. Moreover--a point in which we differ markedly from previous generations--the means of communication now are so fast and far-reaching that any extraordinary occurrence can become known almost immediately throughout the widest areas. One might suppose that in our enlightened and skeptical and materialistic century a rumor of marvelous happenings would create doubt and cynicism rather than eager enthusiasm to participate in whatever appears supernatural. The contrary, however, seems really to be the fact. At least in one case the excitement became so great and disor-dered that it was necessary for tbe ecclesiastical authorities to launch an excommunication against tbose who were letting their feelings run away with their reason (Heroldsbach, near Bamberg, Germany: nineteen persons were excommunicated: July, 1952). Throughout the whole Catholic world there seemed to be so much excessive credulity toward reported celestial visitations that it was felt im-perative to publish an emphatic warning in the semi-official paper of the Holy See, L'Osseruatore Roneano (February 3, 1951). Some of the best-known of these real or alleged celestial interventions are listed on pages 45-46 of this number of the REVIEW. If one is to distinguish true from false and to preserve an intel-ligent and balanced attitude toward what he hears recounted, it is necessary to have some little acquaintance with what a well-instructed Catholic should think about apparitions and revelations. AUGUSTINE G. }~LLARD ¯Importance of the Right Attitude The importance of taking the proper attitude toward apparitions and revelations can be very great. If Christ our Lord should deign to appear and speak to one, it is clear that He should be received and heard with the great.est rever-ence. Simi!arly if some other person from heaven, say the Blessed Virgin, should honor one with a visit or message, one ought to re-spond with becoming respect and gratitude. God would be singling one out individually for a favor, and even working a miracle to cbnvey it. If the apparitions and revelations be objective and one's reaction right, they sometimes turn out to be the most significant graces for one's own personal sanctification. On the other h.and, one can also make poor use of them, or even let oneself become, the dupe of hal-lucinations, and then the evil consequences can be disastrous. Good Effects The lives of the saints are full of examples of favors of this kind that led later on to other and greater graces. To say nothing of St. Paul's experience on the road to Damascus--because one might argue that it was not merely a private apparltion--we could instance such cases as the following. St. Teresa of Avila experienced very many visions and revela-tions and was much helped by them in becoming the great saint and apostle that she was. Once she beheld a seraph lancing a fiery dart into her heart and she heard Christ Himself ~ay, "In future you will be jealous, for My honor not only because I am your creator and your king, but as My true spouse. My honor is yours: your honor is Mine." Such an experience could not but have a most potent in-fluence upon her subsequent spiritual development. Referring to a number of her visions, she wrote: "I could never regret baying seen these heavenly visions and I would not exchange them for all the good things and delights of this world. I always considered them a great favor from the Lord, and I think they were the greatest of treasures; often the Lord Himself would reassure me about them. I found my love growing exceedingly" (Life, chap. 19: Peers's translation of the Comptete~ Works of St. Teresa, I, 188). St. Catherine of Siena could not be formally and visibly espoused to Christ with a ring and other ceremonies withou,t being powerfully stimulated to advance in sanctity and in the service of 4 danuarg, 19~¥ APPARITIONS AND REVELATIONS the Church. A succession of visions helped Joseph of Cupertino, the great Italian Franciscan miracle-worker of the seventeenth cen-tury, to become the incredible .saint that he was. Several of the great religious, orders are indebted in greater or lesser measure for their origin, or at least for their actual historical course of development, to" apparitions and revelations. Saudre~u lists numerous.examples of this fact (L'Etat M~tstique, 1921, p. 221). It is said that the confirmations of both the Franciscan and the Dominican orders were owing in part to visions granted to Pope Innocent III. When St. Francis asked for approbation for his nascent order, the Pope seemed unwilling to give it, and many ~of the cardinals were actively opposed to the move. Then the Pope had a dream in which Francis appeared supporting the Lateran Church which seemed to be in danger of collapsing. Something similar hap-pened five years later in favor of St. Dominic and his order. Ac-cording to t~adition, the founders of the Servite order (seven young men of Florence, in the early part of the thirteenth century) had a vision of the Blessed Virgin and were inspired by her to give tip the secular life and devote themselves to God ,exclusively. Later on, in another vi.sion, she gave them their habit, their name, and an indi-cation as to what rule they should adopt. ' The history of the Church, especially of its devotional life, abundantly illustrates what a mighty influence apparitions and revelations can have for the faithful generally. Outstanding instances that occur to the mind at once are the mission of St. Juliana of Liege (i 193-1258) in bringing about the institution of the solem-nity of Corpus Christi; St. Simon Stock (c. 1165-1265) and the devotion of the scapular; the apparitions of Jesus to St. Margaret Mary and the tremendous force now of the cultus of the Sacred Heart; Lourdes and all the pilgrimages to that shrine; and lastly, Fatima and the Immaculate Heart of Mary. Without apparitions and revelations there .would have been no St. Jeanne d'Arc; without her, Frefich and European history would be very different. Owing in part at least to a special revelation St. Catherine of Siena was able to induce Pope Gregory XI to re-store the papal curia from Avignon to Rome. Evil Results On the other hand, private revelations or apparitions, and their counterfeits especially, can also have very serious evil consequences. AUGUSTINE G. I~LLARD Reaie~u for Religious Those that are really genuine a~e at best and in themselves graces of an inferior sort. They belong to the extraordinary phenomena that occasionally mark the pursuit of virtue. Like other miracles, they are not'supernatural in the absolute sense. Of themselves they do not give one a greater participation in the divine life and a Fight to a higher degree of beatitude in eternity. One can be favored with miracles, or even work them, and still in the end find oneself ex-cluded from the company of the elect. "Many will'say to me in that day, 'Lord! Lord! did we not prophesy in Thy name, and cast out demons in Thy name, and do many miracles in Thy name?' And then I will declare to them, 'I never knew you; depart from Me, you workers of iniq.uityV " (Matthew 7:22.) Some good people are like the ancient Corinthiafis whom St. Paul had to instruct about the relative values of "spiritual gifts" and charity: "Now, earnestly desire the grdater gifts; and yet I will point out to you a far more excellent path," namely that of charity. Then follows the celebrated passage in praise of charity: "If I spoke With the languages of men and of ~ingels: . . . But the greatest of these is love" (I Corinthiaris 12:31-13:13). Moreover the spiritual masters always call attention to the fact that there are many great dangers and difficulties connected with this unusual type of divine favor. It is quite possible to make bad use ~)f good graces. True apparitions and revelations may be misunder-stood and misinterpreted. Instead of being used for the purposes for which they are given, they may be diverted to faulty human ends. They may lead to pride and presumption, and thus eventu-ally to spiritual catastrophe. They are peculiarly apt to lessen the purity of one's faith and charity. At the very least they may dis-tract one from the greater and better graces of the .supernatural life. False visions and revelations, besides playing havoc with the lives and virtues of those who imagine that they receive them, can lead whole multitudes astray, deprive them of the benefits of the proper practice of their religion, and make religion' itself a mockery to outsiders. For thes~ reasons theologians and enlightened spiritual directors always try to discourage people from developing too much interest in these minor, though indeed more spect.acular, manifestations of divine favor. APPARITIONS AND REVELATIONS Wrong I, nitial Attitudes . . Among the generality of 'lthe faithful, e~pecially those who ar, e less intelligent or less well educated, there will always be the ineradi- . cable human tend.ency to get e.xcesslvely excited over-fresh reports of supernatural occurrences." There will always .be some who are gul-lible enough to accept almost any rumor. They are curious to have some experience of what is mysterious and weird.-. They are eager. to obtain some divine favor or other. Influencing one another and exemplifying the faults of crowd psychology, they almost inevitably go beyond the limits of sound reason and the cautions of their ec- Clesiastical superiors. Devout individual souls of some proficiency or ambition in the spiritual lif~ often succumb to an inordinate interest in private ap-paritions and revelations, but in a different way. They would dearly love to receix~e some special personal attention from God or the Blessed Virgin or the saints in heaven~ ~It would be wonderful to have ~ real experience in som~ way of the supernatural. They appreciate the joys of spiritual, consolatiori a'nd would gladly enjoy the maximum of them. An unusual sign :from God, actually vis-. ible or audible, could miraculously facilit;ite their efforts to make progre.ss in the interior ways. They would feel more like the saints, who, they imagine, lived in a world of supernatural phenomena. Aiming 'too muchat extraordinar~r ex.periences, rather than at the more prosaic practice of virtue, they would find some of their fondest desires gratified.' Such tendencies appear at times in very pibus and excellent souls. Nevertheless all spiritual authorities are unanimous and urgent in counseling people who are cultivating the interior, life not to desire or seek anything of the kind. Instead of occupying themselves with favors that are of inferior worth and sometimes positively danger-ous, they should concentrate on the more desirable graces, those that properly sanctify one and enhance one's solid virtoe. Otherwise they may fall victims to various hazards and deceits. A very humble man would be preoccupied, not with looking for special, extraordinary favors, but irl endeavori~ag to lessen his unworthiness of'aug favor. A-prudent'man would be wary "about getting himself into many distractions from what he should really be about; One who is on the watch for marvelous phenomena may indeed get them, not from above, but from the insidious evil spirits, ever-ready to turn to their purposes a c.ravir~g that is not wholesome.~ ' " 7 AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD Reuiew for Religious No 'one is more emphatic in cautioning good people not to seek apparitions and revelations of their own, or does it with more au-thority, than the great mystical doctor of the Church, St. John of the Cross. Reading. what he has to say about such phenomena should cure a sensible person of any hankering that he may have for the marvelous element in ~he spiritual life "Ascent of Mt. Carmel, II, chapters XVI-XXXII). - Thus, for example, he writes: "In order to come to this essential union of love in God [that is, the state to which St. John is guiding his readers], the soul must have a care not to lean upon imaginary visions . for these cannot serve it as a proportionate and proximate means to such an end; rather they would disturb it, and for this reason the soul must re-nounce them and strive not to have them. For if in any circum-stance they were to be received and prized,, it would be for the sake of the profit which true visions bring to the soul and the good effect which they'produce upon it. But i~ is not necessary, for this reason, to receive them; rather it is Well always to reject them for the soul's benefit" (op. cir., Peers's translation, I, 134). The best effects of such divine communicati'ons are received in souls that resist, rather than seek, them. "Let confessors direct their penitents in faith, instructing them frankly to turn away their eyes from all such things, teachingthem how to avoid the desire and the spirit of them that they make progress, and giving them to understand how much more precious in God's sight is one work or act ~f the will performed in charity than are'all the visions and communications that they may receive from Heaven, since these imply neither merit nor demerit" (op cir., I, 184). Recipients" Attitudes But suppose now, no matter what a person's previous attitude toward visions and r~velations has been, that one really occurs, or at least seems to occur. What i~ one to think? What should one do? If it is not quite evident at once, without any examination at all, that what one seems to see or hear is from above, one should try to disregard it arid pay no attention to it. One should rather en-deavor to 'busy oneself with something else. Such is the advice of the saints and theologians. Thus St. Teresa writes: "Both with infirm and healthy souls .there is invariably cause for misgivings about theke things until it becomes clear what kind of spirit is responsible. I Januar~l, 1954 APPARITIONS AND REVELATIONS believe, too, that it is always better for them to dispense with such things at first, for, if they are of God, dispensing with them will help us all the more to advance, since, when put to the proof in this way, they will tend to increase" (Interior Castle, "Sixth M~insions," chapter III; Peers's translation, II, 280). Soon after such an occurrence one should of course consult a prudent director, give him a full account of the whole matter, and then be sensible enough to abide by what he says. In c~se it is immediately and perfectly evident that one has to do with a visit or message that is really of divine origin, then one should receive it with becoming courtesy. What this' will consist in will depend upon who has appeared or who' is speaking. If, for instance, it be Jesus Himself, as happened to St. Margaret Mary, or the Blessed Virgin, as at Lourdes, one would show the utmost rev-erence and respect. If an angel or a saint from heaven or a soul from purgatory should be the visitor, one's reception would be what is fitting under the. circumstances. Any communication would be listened to. The next thing by all means is to see one's director "and let him know just what happened. Then, with becoming docility a'nd humility, one should be guided entirely by his judgment. Patience also may be necessary; it may not be possible for him to come to a conclusion at once. This is exactly what the saints did themselves, and what they recommend for others. Thus one submits to the Church, and is safeguarded from following in the devious ways that history records of many deluded visionaries. What is private and unofficial is sub-ordinated to what is public and official. Care to keep in agreement with the infallible Church is the only sure means of avoiding illu-sion, not to say hallucination. Even if for a time there should seem to be a contradiction between God giving directions immediately in a revelation and God directing through the Church, one should fol-low the Church's rep, resentatives. It is thus that God is truly pleased. One time St. Teresa was instructed in a revelation from the Lord to make a certain foundation. Her superior, Father Gratian, desired that she should make another one instead. She obeyed promptly and simply. Father Gratian was aware of the difficulty, and being surprised that she did not object, later on questioned her about the matter. Teresa answered that she acted as she did "because AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD' '"::: ' '." ~', Reoieto for Religious faith tells me that the orders of Your Reverence are the expression of the will of God, whereas I am never sure of my revelations." Showing the proper diffidence in oneself and docility toward au-thority is a sign in favor of one's vision or locution, and may be a means of promoting its acceptance. On the contrary, excessive in-sistence on having a direct personal communication from God might lead to suspicions against one and resistance. One may feel that something divine and very excellent is being neglected or lost, and to bear this trial well may test one's patience and humility. But if it r.eally be from God, in His own good time He will make it tri-umph. Thus it was on13i after the death of Blessed Juliana of Liege that her divine commission to help bring about the feast " : Corpus Christi achieved the desired result. Sometimes a person gets some practical injunction in a private revelation; for example, to promote a certain devotion, to take steps toward raising a shrine, to make a pilgrimage, and so forth. Here the first great rule is to begin by seeking prudent ,counsel from one's director or superiors, and to conform to it. The second general principle is not to do anything of the kind unless independently of ¯ the supposed revelation there seem to be good reasons for it. Thus one follows both supernatural good sefise and the revelation. Then the suggestion from above becomes the occasion rather than the principal cause of what is done. The more extraordinary the un-dertaking appears, the greater must be the reasons otherwise known which justify it, the greater one's care in considering the whole mat-ter, ands the more cautious one's general attitude. Humility and amenability to direction are both excellent signs of union with God and means of getting co-operation from others in doing the work of God and of the Church. Reported Apparitions and Revelations The great practical problem for most of us is what attitude we should take, not toward visions or locutions of our own--most of us do not have very many!--but toward the apparitions or revela-tions that we hear or read about. In Catholic spiritual literature there are volumes and volumes from the saints and other devout persons purporting to give new re-vealed knowledge On the life of Christ, for instance, or on His Pas-sion, or on the experiences of the Blessed Virgin. Moreover the public press nowadays very frequently has news 10 danuar~l, 1954 APPARITIONS AND P~EVELATIONS reports about alleged recent revelations. The Scapular, for Septem-ber- October, 1950, gives an account in particular of fifteen appari-tions, of the ]31essed Virgin since Fatima, and it adds, "There are reports of others in Spain, Poland, Roumania, and Sicily, but so far the news is sketchy and incomplete" (pp. 3 ft.). There are also the apparitions listed by the Clergtl Montbtv (Ranchi, India) and re-ferred to at the beginning of this.article (see pp. 45-46). The query what stand-we should adopt toward such reports affects all of us and nearly all- the time. To disregard true messages from heaven would be unbecoming, displeasing to" God, and inju-rious to ourselves. But neither do we wish to be duped by the vic-tims of hallucination. Here we may consider a simple and obvious solution of the problem. It will be very easy. to apply and very safe. But unfor~ tunately it will not always be available, especially in the beginning when popular interest and excitement are at their height. In an-other article we.can discuss the distinctions and difficulties that meet one who inquires into these matters more thoroughly. For the pres-ent let us be satisfied with the simplest answer. This plain and facile solution is, "Follow the approbation or disapprobation of the official authorities in the Church, either the Pope or the bishops! If they have not spoken yet, by all means sus-pend judgment, and wait until they do!" , The Church can judge. The" supernatural is her special field, and in it she has a unique competence. She also has the accumu-lated ~xperience and wisdom of twenty centuries. Her theologians know the criteria by which to distinguish the supernatural from the natural, Her investigators can judiciously gather all the evidence for the facts. They can visit the place where the. vision is said to have occurred and interrogate the persons most intimately concerned. When appropriate, they can bring in witnesses that are expert in science, medicine, psychology, and other specialties. They go about their work calmly and critically, not excitedly and enthusiastically. Finally, they have the peculiar assistance of the Holy Spirit. Hence' they can come to a well-founded decision. It is never, however, proposed as infallible. We cannot judge. Of all .the people who hear or read of the apparitions and revelations that are currently reported not one in a hundred knows the principles on the basis, of which critical judg-ments about them are to be made. Even if everybody did know 11 -AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD those criteria well, still practically they could not ascertain the ~acts reliably. Because of distance and remoteness, or lack of opportunity to inquire carefully, 0r--perhaps most of all--want of sufficiently trustworthy a, ccounts, it is really impossible for nearly all persons who merely read or hear such reports to get a critically certain, fac-tual foundation for judgment. Hence, for want of evidence, they are not in a position to pronounce. Therefore, the sensible thing to do is to follow the official deci-sions of the Church~ whether episcopal or papal. One alw.a.ys does best precisely in agreeing with the Church. She does not expec.t what is proposed as divine revelation to be received as such without miraculous intervention demonstrating that God corroborates what His messenger says. She does not go to either of the two extremes of roundly denying in advance all private visions or locutions or Of readily admitting those that are being bruited about. With the competence of a.specialist in the domain of the supernatural, and with absolutely unique promises of aid from the Holy Spirit, she investigates individual cases with great care and pro-nounces decisions that should command the respect of all. Besides, one who thinks with the Church will preserve his sense of perspec-tire and attach relatively little importance to private revelations as compared with the great official public revelation entrusted long ago to her by Christ and the Apostles. During the interval that elapses between the first report o~ a new vision and the approbation or disapprobation of the ecclesiastical au-thorities, the best and the most prudent thing that one can do is to be patient, hold one's opinion in abeyance, and await the official judgment. Otherwise one runs the risk of rejecting, what is au-thentically of divine origin-or of sharing in the evil consequences of hallucination or downright imPosture. To be intelligent about the whole matter in a very general way, one 'might well review, the principl.es that should guide one's thinking by reading the pertinent pages in some such work as Tanquerey's The Spiritual Limb, pages 700 ft., or Poulain's The' Graces of Inte?ior Prayer, pages 299 ft. "Do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits, whether they are from God; for many false prophets have gone out into the world". (I John 4:1). ."Test everything; hold fast to what is good" (I Thessalonians'5:21). 12 Prac!:ical Requiremen!:s of a ¯ Program for t:he Psychological Screening ot: Candidat:es William C. Bier, S.3. [EDITORS' NOTE: This is the second of two articles adapted from papers presented at the Fordham Institute on Religious and Sagerdo~al Vocations, duly, 1953.] THIS article begins with a premise established previously,I name-ly, that psychological' testing has a role to perform and a con-tribution to make in the selection of candidates for the reli-gious life; in other words, that such a program is theoretically de-sirable. The purpose of the present article is to consider the practi-cal feasibility of such a procedure. In other words, would the in-auguration of such a program at the present time be a prudent step? Prudence of Such a Program Father 'A. Pl~, O.P., in a rather remarkable paper bearing the significant title, "Unconscious Attraction to the Religious Life," writes as follows: "If the psychologist can give us warning at the outset, it would surely be a sin not to ask for his services. The sacred character of grace, especially the grace of vocation, as well as respect for the hu-man person make it a serious olSligation for us to use every possible means to avoid mistakes about vocation.''2 With this statement I think that few would be in disagreement. The crucial question, however, remains: Can the psychologist give us warning of unsuitability in the case of an applicant? There is difference of opinion on the answer to the above que.s-tion. Father Felix Duffey, C.S.C., has written an over-all excellent book on this general subject, called Testing the Spirit.3 At the be.- ginning of his book, he gives a scriptural quotation which might be taken as a very apposite motto for any whose work involves the dis-cernment of vocation. The quotation from I Timothy 5:24 reads lWilliam C. Bier, S.J., "Psychological Testing of Candidates and the Theology of Vocation," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, XII (1953), 291-304. 2A. Pl~, O.P., "Unconscious Attraction to the Religious Life," Religious Life: II Vocation. Westminster, Md.: Newman, 1952, p. 109. SFelix D. Duffey, C.S.C., Testing the Spirit. St. Louis: Herder, 1947. WILLIAM C. BIER Review [o~ Religious as follows: "Some men have faults that are plain to view; with others, discovery follows upon. the heels of ,inquiry." Although Father Duffey is much impressed by the need of sound mental health among applicants for the religious life and writes the book for this reason, he believes, nevertheless, that the use of mental aptitude tests for the examination of candidates for the religious life would be "imprudent.''4 When we inquire into the basis for this conclusion, we find that he assigns tw.o reasons. The first is this: psychometrics (psychological tests) are not infallibie. One may legitimately ask what method, particularly in so difficult a matter, is infallible? If the use of psychometrics is imprudent becat~se the tests are not infal-lible, then the use of any other method would have to be judged equally imprudent. Certainly the substitute solution proposed by Father Duffey is not infallible, whereby spiritual directors and supe-riors, with the aid of a series of questions proposed by the author and without any particular training in the field of psychology, are left to judge of the psychological suitability of candidates. In the course of explaining these questio.ns, Father. Duffey makes a large number of astute and helpful recommendations,, but it seems that the over-all res,ult of such a method would be a return to the "unscien-tific and haphazard experimentation" in determining the mental health of candidates to the religious life, against which the book is aimed. The second reason given by Father Duffey for the rejection of psychological tests in the evaluation of candidates is that no reli-gious aptitude tests exist. In this respect, Father Duffey is perfectiy correct; his supposition, however, may be questioned, because no specific religious aptitude tests are needed, as vcill be seen later in this article. The question which must be asked with respect to psychological tests and their use in 'the evaluation of candidates for religious life is th~s: Have the techniques of psychological testing advanced to a point where they are able to furnish us with helpful information relative to applicants before admission? To this question I give an unhesitatingly affirmative answer: they can furnish us' with such in-formation. Whether the actual use of them will be prudent or not depends on how they are used. At the present time there is great need to stress the importance of the proper use of psychological tests. I have had occasion to observe 4lbid.o p. 6. 1# danuartt, 1954 PSYCHOLOGICAL SCREENING the reaction of Catholics to the psychological-testing movement over a period of years, and I have frequently noticed an initial suspicion of these tests give way to enthusiastic endorsement when it is seen what these tests are able to do, for instance, by way of prediction in school work. Yet this enthusiasm for psychological tests is some-times extreme and riot sufficiently tempered by an appreciation of their limitations. This matter is mentioned here because it is pos-sible to discern something of the same process under way with re-spect to the use of psychological tests in ~he examination of candi-dates for religious life. An initial reluctance to employ such adjuncts seems to be growing in some quarters into an overenthusiastic and oversimplified acceptance. When it is bruited about that such tests have been used with a certain degree of success, there is a tendency to think that all that is necessary is to find out what tests have been used and to give them. A series of articles, published in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS during 1949, 1950, and 1951, may perhaps have contributed to the above viewpoint. In these articles .the use of psychological tests is recommended as a help in evaluating the fitness of applicants for the religious life; and in terms of the practical initiation of such a pro-gram it is suggested that, when nothing better is available, the pro-gram could be begun were dne of the members of the community to take certain courses in psychological testing. The following quota-tion is drawn from one of the above-mentioned articles: "The ideal prerequisite is that some member of the community be trained in the field of psychometrics. As a .preliminary step, sev-eral basic courses in tests and measurements may suffice. In lieu of trained personnel, the services of someone who is sympathetic to testing, who will conscientiously adhere to manuals of directions, and who will be extremely careful in interpreting results may be utilized."s It is evident that the above writer considers that a training in psychometrics is sufficient for the director of such a program. For reasons explained more adequately later in this article, I am unable to agree with these recommendations. It would be my opinion that a much broader training in psychology is needed to undertake the in-terpretation of psychological tests in such an important matter vocation and with a special-interest group, such as applicants for the SSister M. Digna, O.S.B., "A Tentative Testing Program for Religious Life," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, X (1951), 75-76. 15 WILLIAM C.'BIER ¯ Review [or Religious' priesthood and religious life. The recommendations offered in the above quotation assume that psychological testing is automatic to an extent which, in my opinion, cannot be supported in theory and which consequently is dangerous to apply in practice. It is clear that the present article assumes so .mething of a middle position in this matter. On the one harid, I fed that psychological testing has developed to a point where it can prudently be used in the selection, of candidates for religious life. On the other hand, I consider it essential that such a program be set up in an adequate manner. With the wrong approach, more harm than good can re-sult from the attempt. The crux of the matter, from a practical point of view, is how the program would be developed. The re-mainder of this article will consider the practical requirements for the adequate inauguration of such a program. Once the principle is accepted that psychological tests have a con-tribution to make in judging religious vocation, it becomes dear that there are different ways in which this principle may satisfactorily be applied in practice. The program suggested below is only one wa3', and it is certainly not the only way, in which the above principle can .be applied. The main advantage in outlining a program of applica-tion is to illustrate the level upon which the work needs to be done, and to ~all attention to certain requiremdnts which must be met in any application of psychological testing to candidates for the reli-gious life. Requirements of the Program What is necessary" above all else is that a p~ogram for the psy-chological testing of applicants for the religious life should be put in the hands of the right person, and this person is, ideally at least, a member of the religious institute in question, who has had adequate psychological training. This combination is particularly desirable and advantageous; but if it cannot be had, then the first requirement .may be waived, but not the second. It is essential that this program be" in the hands of h competently trained psychologist. Such a per-. son will be able to make a maximum contribution if he has had the experience of living a religious life, but he can still make his essential contribution even if this is not the case. What is needed is not merely acquaintance with psychological testing, but a general training in psychology. I would think it imprudent for anyone to undertake the administration of such a program who does not have at least a 16 January, 19.~4 PSYCHOLOGICAL ~;CREENING ' master's degree in psychology; and it would be highly desirable that the director haxle'more training than that, not only thebretical, in terms of courses, but practical, in terms of experience. This sort of testing is not a field for novices and beginners in psychology; it re-mains a difficult task even when one is able to bring to it the maxi-mum which modernlpsychology can offer in training and experience. The director assumes responsibility for the prog.ram in the.sense of,select~ing the tests-and procedures to be employed, supervising if not actually.admin!stering the tests, and above all interpreting the' test results. The interprethtion of.the test result~ is the ~rucial part of the program, and this is the portion which is far from ahtomatic and makes the fullest demands in terms of psychological, tra.ining,' understanding, a'nd i.nsight. As a result of the testing prggram,.th~ director will offer to the" religious superior ~ re~ofiarfi~ndation 0ri each candidate ~e~ted. Tl~e' prog.ram director serves as a. spec.ial consultant to the superigr in tile s~lection of candidat'es'. 'In this respect, the role of the program ad-i .ministrator i.s pur~ely ,advisory, so that the sgperior loses none of his l!berty of actidn. He does, .however, secure more information aboi~t each candidate than would otherwise be available to him, so that hisi judgement of suitabilitylmay have a more adequate foundation. A program, such as the one suggested, supplements, but in no way sup~ plants, the traditional sources of information oh the suitability, of candidates. This aspect will be most adequately achieved if the recommendation of the program director on tile suitability of each candidate b~ made independently of these traditional sources of in-formation. The shperior will then have at his disposal, when he comes to make a judgement on the suitability of the candidate, both' sources of information, so that his decision may be truly as well founded as it is possible to make it. Tests Prior to Admission " My recommendation would be that these tests should be given" to the applicants prior to admission, as it is only in this way that the information derived from them Jan possibly aid the superior in determining the application of candidates. There may be some diffi-culty in arranging for the testing of candidates prior to entrance, but, the benefits of so doing repay whatever effort is involved. It may be noted that it is not necessary that all the candidates be brought to-gether in one place for such testing. It is quite feasible to have sev-, 17 ~¢II~LI.~I C. BIER eral testing centers, and since the first tests are group tests;'as will be explained, it is entirely possible to have them administered by some one else, Who can be easily trained for this limited purpose, and the test results sent to the program director. The only other alternative would be to wait until after admission and to give them during postulancy or noviceship. This is not only a second-best solution, but one which Icould not recommend at all. A number of reasons combine in pointing to the desirability of conducting the tests prior to admission. In the first place, it is easier at that time for the applicant to cooperate in taking the tests to the extent needed for their validity. It must be recognized that most psychological tests of personality rely for their validity upon the co-operation of the respondent and must assume that the questions are answered frankly and honestly. There are very few personality tests whose rdsults are unaffected by deliberate attempts at falsification. This is a limitation in the use of most personality tests which must be appreciated and. faced. Prior to admission, the proper atmosphere of cooperation can more readily be created by letting the applicant see that no favor would be done him by accepting him into rel{gion if he were not suited for such a way of life. He can be led to accept this viewpoint on natural grounds (a misfit in life is a misfortune at any time, but doubly so in religion) and for supernatural motives (he .wishes.to enter religion only if such is God's will for him). It is not implied that it is impossible to obtain such a measure of co-operation after admission, . but it is then more difficult because the individual already has a position to protect. To leave religion, even shortly after admission, involves a loss of self-esteem, fear of criti-cism on the part of others, the thought of failing one's family and one's friends, and many other intimate and personal considerations, all of which operate as a temptati6n to reply to tests in a manner calculated to make oneself appear in a favorable light rather than to give an accurate picture of oneself. The judicious applicant usually keeps the fact of his application to himself until after he has actually been accepted, precisely in order not to create for himself the kind of pressures mentioned above. It is well known that it requires much more courage to leave religion, when one finds that one is unsuited, than it does to enter; but what may not be so readily appreciated is how quickly after admission these defenses mobilize, and their mo-bilization, perhaps in ways so subtle as to be hardly appreciated by the individual, would interfere with the test results. 1"8 danuarg, 1954 PSYCHOLOGICAL SCREENING Closely allied to the above reason for holding the tests prior to: admission is the added advantage to the applicant that his unsuit-ability for religious life be made known to him as soon as possible. The difficulty of readjustment to life in the ~vorld after a period in religion is well known; and, if this readjustment can be spared the applicant, it is clearly beneficial. From the point of view of the religious institute, when the tests hre given only after admission, there will be an inkvitabletendency to let the doubtful candidates stay and give them a trial, since they have already entered. Experience proves that this is the precise trouble with doubtfully suitable religious. They are accepted in the first place because they are doubtful and hence not clearly excluded. For the same reason, they.are passed on from the postulancy to the novitiate, and from the novitiate to temporary and perhaps final vows. At each stage it becomes more difficult to reject them, not because they are any more suited for religious life, but simply because they have been in.religion for such and si~ch a length of time. The place to eliminate doubtfully suitable c~indidates is at the time of ap-plication. The attitude to be adopted in the case of doubtful candi-dates has been discussed in the previous article.6 The final reason for recommending that the tests be given prior to admission is a technical one but, in some ways, it is the most compelling reason of all. It is this: Were the tests given during tulancy or noviceship, it would be impossible to interpret the re-sults. Introduction to the religious life is a profound experience, and it seems that such an experience would have inevitable repercussions in the psychological make-up of the individual. However, at the present time we know next to nothing of the impact of religious life on psychological functioning, and hence we have no base line where-by to interpret the results of psychological testing given during a time of intense religious experience, such as the postulancy and nov-iceship certainly provide. It may be objected that part of the function of the novitiate is to determine the suitability of novices for life in religion. While such is undoubtedly true, it would seem that this principle is some-times misunderstood. Primarily, the function of the novitiate is a positive one: to train the young person in the following of Christ through the practice of the evangelical counsels and the particular rules of the religious institute. The novitiate assumes the suitability 6REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, XII (1953), p. 291. 19 WILLIAM (2. BIER Review for, Religious "of its novices; its fundamental function is to train them. Second-arily, it is true, the novitiate tests suitability, but only as the latter develops as a. corollary flowing from novitiate training. Suitability is essentially an admission problem, and /'/arm results when admission problems are passed on to the novitiate. They then become novitiate problems, to the detriment of the essential function of the novitiate, which is training in the religious life. When unsuitability develops in the novitiate, it should be an unsuita.bility which was not ap-. parent upon application, and which only appeared under the more protracted and more penetrating scrutiny of the novitiate. Kind of Tests Ernploged At this point consideration may be given to the kind of psycho-logical tests which would be employed in the evaluation of candi-dates for the religious 'life. The specific tests to be employed is a technical question for psychological experts, and in a general discus-sion it is advantageous to refer only to the kind of psychologic~il tests to be used. Specific tests "can only be chosen in the last analysis with respect to a specific situation--hence in terms of a speqified r~ligious institute--and this is an additional reason why the ques-tion of specific psychological tests cannot be introduced into a gen-eral discussion. In order, however, to discuss even the kind of psychological tests to be employed, it is necessary to introduce, some specification with respect to the type of religious institute concerned. To illustrate the principles involved, the instance of a religious institute accepting candidates for the priesthood will be chosen. This case is sufficiently general to provide considerable immediate application,, and to make it possible for other religious groups to consider the application of these principles to. their own specific-situations. Among psychological tests there are what are referred to as group tests, i.e., tests which can be administered to a group of people at the same time. It is recommended that the program of.psychological' tests for applicants for .the religious life start with tests of this kind. All applicants would be required to take these tests prior to admis-sion, and they could be administered in smaller or larger groups de-pending upon circumstances, and in whatever, way would prove generally most convenient. These tests would be chosen and de-signed to furnish information on the suitability, of candidates in two general areas: academic or intellectual suitability, and psychological 2O danuar~l, 1954 PSYCHOLOGICAL SCR~NI~q~/ or personality suitability. In the area of academic suitability, investigation would be madd~ of intellectual ability and academic achievement. It is rec~inmended that ability be measured by two tests, preferably two tests taking different approhches to the matter, e.g,, a spe,ed test and a power test, thecomposite of the two tests being taken as an over-all index of-academic ability." One or more achievement tests may be. given, and their function wo~il~l be to determine the relationship between abil-ity and performance. Ideally, achievement should be on a par wi~b" ability, and notable discrepancies between the two become helpful, and someti~m~s important, interpretative factors. It is evident that a certain level of ability and academic per-formance is needed for the course of studies leading to the priesth, ood and 'for the subsequent work of the ministry. It is true, however, that various indices of such ability and performance are already available, for instance, in school marks. It might be thought, there-fore, that psychological tests for these attributes are an unnecessary duplication. Tests in these areas are not, perhaps, essential; but they are desirable, and they can be very helpful. In school marks, ability and application are mixed in unknown degrees, and in terms of preparation for the priesthood, it becomes important' to sift out the relative roles of each. Religious training can furnish the moti-vation needed for appIication to study, but it cannot supply ability, where the latter is lacking. Added application can compensate for deficient ability, but only within quite narrow limits. It is a fre-quent fallacy .to assume that, with an individual of limited ability, the same amount of extra application and diligence will spell success higher up on the academic ladder as it did earlier, for instance in col-leg~ as it did in high school. It cannot, do so, however, because an equivalent performance at the higher level requires greater abifity, and an individual who has already been achieving only by reason of added application is overwhelmed on reaching the higher level of academic work. Consequently, a reliable estimate of ability, as distinct, from" application, is needed in order properIy to evaluate the academic suitability of candidates for the priesthood. Furthermore, applicantscome from different schools; and unless one is familiar with each school, it is difficult to evaluate the significance of the grades attained. There is the further advantage of comparing all of the applicants, from whatever school, according to the same cri-terion, and this aim is achieved when all of them take the same psy- WILLIAM (~. BIER Review/~or Religiou.s chological tests. It must be remembered that selection in'this case is not merely for the work of a few years, as for entrance to college,but for a lifetime undertaking; and in a matter of such importance, it would, be more appropriate to speak of checking and re-checking, rather than of unnecessary duplication. Recall, too, the general role suggested above for these tests, namely, to furnish an independent estimate of suitability. An applicant's school grades, °for instance, may be so low as not to recommend him, but hi~ teachers explain this fact as due to the necessity of work outside of school or to an unusual amount of extracurricular activities. The superior wishes to know whether this report is accurate, or whether it is rather a charitable interpretation on the part of his teachers, influenced per-haps by.their opinion.of the applicant as a person and, it may be, as one judged by them .to be a desirable candidate in all other respects. The psychological tests will furnish the superior in a case of this kind with exactly the independent estimate which is needed. Finally, since suitability must be judged on a total basis, the ability level of the applicant may be important in terms of his personal tendencies, as will presently be explained. Since the over-all function of the program of psychological tests is ~o offer supplementary information on'the suitability of candi-dates, the information furnished in the area of psychological suit-ability is the most important, because it is'in this area that the least :information is usually available. It~will be recalled that" Father Duffey, quoted at the beginning of this article, felt that' the psycho-ilogical testing of applicants for the r~ligious life was not currently :feasible because no religious'aptitude tests are a;cailable. I should like .at this point to develop the notion suggested earlier that no specific~ :religious aptitude tests are needed. What we wish basically to discover with respect to the applicant :is whether he is a mature, stable, well-integrated person: in a word, a fundamentally normal person. If he is such, the~a he is, psycho-logically speaking, a good prospect for the religious life. Some per-sons by reason of their psychological dispositions will.find religious life naturally more congenial than others~ but it must be appreciated that. what is needed in terms of the evaluation of candidates is an estimate, not of congeniality, but of fundamental compatibility and suitability. The individual who is psychologically unsuitable for religious life is such because he.,is, in general, not a psychologically well:integrated and well-balanced individual. He would not,.be toa January/, 1 ~,5 4 I~SYCHOLOGIC~tL SCREENING well suited for many other things as well; .religious life is only one of them. However, he is more unsuited for religious life than for cer-tain other things because of the added psychological demands of ligious life. The conclusion to be drawn from this premise with respect to psychological tests for applicants for religious life is evi-dent. Specific religious aptitude tests are not needed; what is needed is an estimate of the general maturity, integration, and balance of the personality. Hence we are able to employ psychological tests which give us this sort of information. It must be recognized that the only basis for estimating the likelihood of psychological adjust.- ment to religious life is the previous adjustment manifested by the individt~al. It may be taken as a fundamental principle in this mat-ter that there is no reason to expect an individual successfully tO adapt himself to the demands of religious life if he ~has nbt anteced-ently been able to adjust to the .ordinary problems of life. -Thus, the psychological tests employed are aimed at providing a reliabl~ estimate of the psychological adjustment of. the, individual, as veal, d in previous inter;personal relationships and life .situations~ Here, even more than in the area of intellectual testing, reliance. should not be placed upon any single test, but several should be em-ployed and the composite result of all considered in arriving ~it .a decision. The questionnaire type of personhlity tests, when admin-istered in the proper atmosphere where the answers will be given frankly and honestly, can furnish very. helpful and reliable informa-tion about personality maturity and integration; but they can well be supplemented by certain of the less-structured, i.e., in technical terms, the projective personality tests. From the several, personality tests which are administered comes the basis for the judgement of psychological maturity, stability, and integration. Such an indi-vidual is, from the psychological point of view, .in the words of canon 538, ". fit to bear the burdens of the religious state," Another factor v~hich must be considered, however, is attraction for the religious life. Not everyone who is suited for religious life is attracted to it. Granted that this attraction is fundamentally a grace, is it not likely that it builds on a certain.natural disposition of cl-;ar-acter and personality? Since the priesthood and religious life make an effective appeal to only a relatively small portion of our Catholic young people, most of whom would be psychologically suited, there must be something different about them, and it seems quite likely that such differences would descend into the psychological compo- 23 .WILLIAM C. BIER Reoie~o ~:or Religious nents of personality. When we a~tually administer psychological tests to groups of candidates applying to enter religious life, we find that. they do score somewhat differently on these tests than other comparable groups. The earliest findings in this respect were mis-interpreted, and it was concluded that religious and seminarians as a group were characterized by marked abnormal and neurotic tenden-cies. Actually, of course, these findings simply meant that these groups were different from the population at large, and that the psy-chological tests were sensitive enough to pick up these differences. These findings do have one important bearing, however, on the use of psychological tests in the screening of candidates, and it is this: serious mistakes in interpretation will almost surely be made if test resul~s, with a special group of this kind, are accepted at their face value. Any personality test which is employed, whose norms are based upon the general population, will have to be adapted for use with candidates to the religious life. The degree of adaptation is ' something which can only be determined through actual use, and this clearly reinforces the viewpoint presented earlier 'chat the use of these tests is not automatic, and cannot be. made so at the present time. This is unquestionably work for the psychological expert, and for him alone. Results so far obtained in the use of psychological tests with religious men and women indicate that psychological adjustment as applied to life in the world and life in religion is an analogous con- Cept, meaning that it is partly the same, and partly different, in the two cases. It is partly the samebecause the same psychological re-sources at the disposal of the individual are employed in the two cases but adjustment is partly different because the demands are different, and so too are the psycholbgical satisfactions involved. A word on the interpretation of test findings may be in order at this point. It is evident that some .applicants would exclude them-selves on intellectual grounds alone, no matter how stable and well-integrated their personalities. It must be remembered that we are .considering the case of an applicant for the religio~s priesthood, and a certain level of intellectual ability is clearly required in such.,a case. .On the other hand, some applicants would exclude "themselves on .personality grounds, no matter how.high their level of intellectual ¯ .ability. In certain other instances, however, the interrelation of .ability and personalit~ proves decisive. A man of somewhat limited .ability but well-integrated personality might be judged suitable, PSYCHOLOGICAL SCREENING while a second applicant of the.'same ability, but of a less-balanced personality, could be judged unsuitable. In such a case, it is neither ability alone (which presumably is low, but not impossible) nor personality integration alone (which while poor is not itself pro~ bibitive) which is judged unfavorable, but the combination of the two. An applicant of limited ability would find the course of s~udies for the priestl~ood a constant strain, and prolonged stress of this kind is calculated to accentuate any personality.difficulties which might already be present. Final Portion of the Program Thus far, reference has been made only to group psychological tests in the evaluation of candidates. It is necessary that the group-testing progr~am be supplemented by a certain amount of individual testing. Depending upon the size of the group of candidates to b~ examined, individual intelviews may be feasible. If it is possible "to make arrangements for them, they are very helpful. Such inter-views will be most advantageous if held after the group testing, be-cause they can then be made to supplement the information derived from the general test results in a most helpful way, and can prevent misinterpretation which might possibly result from the use of test results alone. Whether it is feasible to arrange individual interviews or not, it will sometimes be necessary to resort to supplementary in-dividual testing. There will always be some cases in which the group tests will give inconclusive results, and it would be unwise, if not unjust, particularly in the earlier stages of a testing program, to settle the matter on the basis of group tests alone. At this stage, it is my recommendation that the program should have consultants. I would suggest that one consultant be a clinical psycholggist and the other a psychiatrist. Only those candidates would reach this stage of the program in whose case the group tests ¯ gave positive reasons for doubting their suitability for religious life. It is not necessary, nor, as far as I can s~e, is it desirable that every candidate for religious life be interviewed by a psychiatrist; but ~ucl~ is necessary in some cases. The group testing reveals the cases in which such a psychiatric judgement is needed. Thus, in the difficult and doubtful cases, the director of the testing program has the inde-pendent judgement of two experts to guide him. It would be my conception that the clinical psychologist and the psychiatrist serve as. consultants to the program director, and even in these cases the latter 25 WILLIAM C. BIER .assumes the responsibility for the bver-all recommendation on the candidate which is given to the superior. The .final recommendations on each candidate which are made to the superior may profitably be divided into those which are favor-able, unfavorable, and doubtful. Sometimes even when group and individual testing is complete, the only judgement which can be made on a candidate, in fairness both to the applicant and to the reli-gious institute, is that he is a doubtful prospect for religious life. Yet everi here, which is the least satisfactory outcome, the program has something to offer, because the doubt is in all cases a positive one and the superior knows the reasons why the candidate is a doubtful prospect. In work of this kind humility is by all means necessary. Indeed, any other attitude would be preposterous in a matter where the outcome depends on the interplay of God's grace and man's free will. It.is clear, therefore, that a program such as the one described in this article will not solve all admission problems, nor can it be expected to do so. Its contribution, though genuine, is limited. Even with 'the help of such a program, mistakes in admissions will be made, but almost surely there will be fewer mistakes and they will be less seri-ous. One of the great advantages of a program such as the one out-lined above is that it makes it possible to profit to the utmost from the mistakes which are made. It is assumed that the records of the tests will be kept. If the program director will then study the progress of the applicants in religion, he will learn much, both about his tests and about his predictions based upon them, and this is in-formation which can be gathered in no other why. Some of the tan-didates tested will leave after admission, and it is evident that infor-mation about such candidates, as far as it is obtainable, will con-tribute substantially to the improvement of the program. It would seem that a sustained program of admissions and follow-up, such as that projected here, would be a particularly valuable adjunct to reli-gious admissions which depend ultimately upon the superior, and superiors change frequently according to the provisions of canon law. A program of this kind can help a new superior avoid some of the mistakes of his predecessor. A program of psychological tests such as that envisioned here can be of some immediate assistance in the selection 6f candidates. It is clear, however, that such a program must be considered to be in 26 danuar~!, 1954 COMMUNICATIONS an experimental stage for some years, while the test results are per-mitted to validate themselves against time and against the progress of the candidates in religion. A judicious use may be made of the test results even in these early years. The tests will, however, be-come more valuable in time, when their, validity has been verified. In conclusion, .I would stress the fact.that psychological testing can touch only the natural foundation for religious vocation, which in its essential aspect is the work of God's grace. Its role, therefore, though genuine, is limited; but when applied prudently, it will al-most surely be a helpful adjunct in the most difficult task of scru-tinizing the suitability of those who, inspired by'a right intention, present themselves as applicants for admission to religious life. 'ommun{cal:{ons Reverend Fathers: The article on the particular examen in theJuly, 1953, issue of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, entitled "A New and Vital Approach," by Father De Letter, S.2., was thought-provoking. You invited com-ment. It'seems to me that there really are. religious (and let's hope there are many) who after years of striving after perfection cannot derive much help from the particular examen if they merely try to break an unwanted habit or work against their pet sin. There are even some, perhaps many, who cannot for the life of them find out what their predominant fault is; And this is not to be wondered at. Surely fervent religious can be expected to reach a certain stage of perfection beyond which it is hardly possible perceptibl~/to go, though they do advance in holiness continually as they increase in sanctifying grace, even without their knowing it. Should such drop the particular examen? By no means. Also for them it is a great aid to perfection. But for them especially is the new and vital approach suggested by Father De Letter. . I don't know just how new this is. It is certainly new in its presentation in that issue. But it has long been practiced in many different ways by religious here and there. And it is the only sen-sible way of handling the particular examen for those who have made such progress in the spiritual life as suggested above. 27 (~OMMUNICATIONS Now, to be practical. Take a good religious who wishes to prac~' rice the particular examen and has no special fauIt to overcome. This religious wants to be very close to God always. But he is extremely busy all the day long in the various tasks assigned to him. He is prone to forget God's presence. Looking about for ways and means of remaining in the presence of God, of being intimately united with Him always, he recalls that the saints and ascetical writers tell us that 6he of the best means is the fervent utterance of ejaculatory prayers or aspirations, made either' orally or mentally. He makes it the subject of his particular examen to keep close to God by saying such prayers often during the day. Between tasks, as he goes about from place to place, etc., etc., he quietly (and always fervently) says some little prayers. To make the matter doubly meritorious, he learns scores of indulgenced ejacu-lations and makes it a point to use only those and thus be a constant helper of the holy souls. Any prayers, different prayer~ remember. The purpose is recollection, walking in the presence of God. The means, the prayers, mental or oral. He calls twenty prayers said a unit. For each unit he marks one. If in the evening he has ten units, he marks simply 10 in'his booklet (which must always be' around and never neglected). That means 200 ejaculations during the day. ' It is almost'unbelievable hbw one can grow in union with God by means of a particular examefi like that. --"UNLESS YOU BECOME." Reverend Fathers: On what authority the price df Lex Propria was given (in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Nov., 1953, p. 330), we.do not know. However, this particular work was a one-printing edition solely for' Benedictine Abbeys and Convents. Notices to this effect were sent to Benedictine superiors and .an order card was included on which the only price given was 75 cents per copy, plus postage. Furthermore, all orders had to be placed before July 15. We have received a num-ber of orders since you p.ublished the wrong price (50 cents). We trust you will correct this in your next issue. --THE ABBEY STUDENT DRESS. 28 Reading J:or Religious Edward F. Garesch~, S.J. RELIGIOUS life remains the same in its essentials througl'i the ages, but how different are the circumstances in which the reli-gious of different periods have to live. This is notably true in regard to the supply of reading matter and the choice which religi6us of this time have to make among a multiplicity of books. In more simple ages. the volumes which religious read were few and preci6us.~° "In the days when everything was written by hand, books weke of great price and value. Now, the many devices for the multiplicatidn of print have d~luged the world with.books arid booklets and peri-odicals. On the one hand religious are offered volume after volume composed especially for their own use; on the other hand the eno?- mous quantity~of.secular publications intrudes even into the cloister." It is interesting to note.that, ifi spite of the great development of forms of entertainment, read, ing still holds its place as a popular: amusement. Hence the greater number of books and periodicals have this as their primary, purpose. They seek to tempt, readers to buy and' read for the motive of interest and amusement. "Serious and factual book~ are alsomultiplied withc~ut end. Every issueof the weekly book supplements contains a surprising number of titles; and of course not nearly all the published books can be reviewed. Many o~ them are not even mentioned. Through school libraries and the like, many religious have access to some of these current pub-lications. As to magazines, the revenue publishers secure from ad-vdrtising or from immense sale of copies makes them publish editions so large tfiat hardly anyone reads them thr6ugh. A Real Problem Now all this presents a real problem tothe devoted religious who wishes to love and serve God and to help his ffeighbor to.the'best of his powers. He knows that reading is a great means of instruction and of advancement in the spiritual life, that it is a source of infor-. marion useful in his work. But how shall he choose among so many books and periodicals? How shall he solve the problem of what is best for him to read? Someone may say that obedience will solve the problem for him. But the older religious especially, and those employed in important 29 EDWARD F. GARESCHI~ \ Reuiem for Religiou~ and responsible positions, are given a great deal of liberty in the choice of what they read. Even the younger members cannot always secure personal and specific guidance in this matter. Thus one may fall into a desultory habit of reading which deprives the mind and the heart of much precious sustenance and guidance, and wastes time which might be much better used. A careful consideration of this subject of what is best to read or leave unread ought to be helpful for many religious who sincerely wish to be as wise and holy as they can. To read is to feed one's mind, imagination, memory, and feelings. One can draw a close parallel therefore between the proper selections of mental and bodily food. A great deal is written and said nowadays about the importance of choosing .the right nourish-ment. Everyone is alert to the dangers of infected or contaminated food. The right proportion of hydrocarbons and proteins, of vita-mins and minerals, is known to b~ important for the preservation of health and strength. The danger of overweight and underweight, of a deficiency or excess of the elements of nutrition, is generally known. Importance of Reading But good spiritual, mental, and even emotional nourishment is no less important: indeed, it is far more essential to one's w~ll-being because the soul is so much superior to the body. Our happiness and holiness depend in gr~at measure on the nourishment we give our spiritual selves. Though conversation and experience are also very important, one of the great means by which we nourish our soul properly is the correct choice of our reading. Food ought to be appetizing in order to be more easily digestedl Similarly, reading that holds our attention and interest is usually more readily assimilated. To read out of custom or out of a sense of duty is meritorious, but things so read are not as likely to impress us and stay with us as those in which we are interested. Hence, when we choose books that appeal to us, they are more likely to help, everything else being equal. But these interesting books ought to be solid, important, and of special help to us. The great variety of spiritual books now available ought to make a choice easy. Superiors surely will be desirous to provide fo~ every religious what he most likes and needs in the way of spiritual nourishment. One plan that seems good and practical, for the large communi- 30' January, 1954 READING FOR RELIGIOUS ties, is to have a community library, with a librarian who will see to it that the worth-while spiritual books are quickly secured. Any religious, even from another house, can write to the librarian for the books he wishes to read, to be mailed to him in a special cover and returned in the same cover within a specified time. In this way, without too much expense, many religious can have the benefit of the community library. The community librarian will also become expert in advising religious about their reading. Several small com-munities might group together to support a central library; or the large communities might let the smaller ones share, perhaps for a small fee, in the facilities of their central library. These are means of ensuring that each religious may have the book he likes and needs. Life is so short find the good books are so numerous that we shall never be able to read them all even if we use every moment of our reading time. Why waste the precious hours, therefore, on use-less or inferior reading when the best is none too good for the hour-. ishment of mind and heart? Foremost among worth-while books are good lives of the saints. What could be more interesting in itself to the follower of Christ, who aspires t9 close and perfect union with Him, than to read how other souls attained that union? For-tunately, modern lives of the .saints try hard to tell the truth about the subjects of their stories, and so it. is possible for the religious who reads to learn a. great deal about holiness-in-action. Books of Devotion There are also many books of devotion, written from various ~iewpoints and about many subjects. Some of them are very old, written centuries ago, but are now appearing in new editions. There are also excellent modern books, whose style and manner are espe-cially adapted to the present-day mind and taste. It is to be noted, however, that these books, though they all beaf the imprimatur of the Church, are not all of equal value or authority. In fact the imprimatur means merely that there is nothing in th~ book against faith and morals. It does not mean that the authority issuing the imprimatur agrees with all the statements and ideas in the book. Each book has as much authority as its author can command. Even of the saints it is said that not everything they wrote was necessarily holy. Still more is it true that not everything in Cath-olic books of devotion is necessarily wise and prudent. Some empha-size one phase of piety, some another. Some recommend one devo- 31 EDWARD F. GARESCHi~ : tion and others insist dn quite different ones. Some good.souls inclined to be like ~he man who leaped on horseback and rode off rapidly' in all directions. They want to practice all devotions at once, .to follow all the different systems of asceticism. By .assimi-lating so many different spiritual ideas, good in themselves but gulped down indiscriminatingly, they contract a spiritual indiges-tion. Good spiritual books come under the second and third classes in Bacon's statement that some books are merely to be tas~ed, others to be chewed and swallowed, and still others to be digested thor-oughly. To read the Gospels or the Imitatibn of Christ, slowly and thoughtfully, may bring more spiritual benefit and solid nourish-ment than many times the hours passed in reading hastily less-abiding spiritual books~ Recreational Reading But nowadays the mind craves lighter and more recreational food, just as the bodily taste demands sweetmeats a~ad hors d'oeuvres. StiII,°even in recreational reading, the religious owes it to himself to exercise a prudent choice. How extremely foolish it.is, to ~ay nothing. worse, if one who is vowed to Christ takes up w?rldly and tainted .stories, magazines, and books. If be has no business with such books and periodisals, he freely opens his mind and imagination and feelings to the contamination of the world--an act of great unwis-dora, to say the least. Newspaper reading is almost needful for religious who teach, who write, or who have to deal with others. But what a difference there is between reading and reading when it comes to the news. Here a great waste Of time is possible when the reader wants to pore. over every item. SeIective reading will give, in a few moments, all that is worth-while in the daily papers. One can become accustomed also to very rapid reading which gathers the gist of the article in a frac.tion of time. About magazines and papers, nearly everything may be repeated that was°said about books. There are so many good ones; why waste time on the tainted and the trivial? Some experienced readers refuse to read any book that is less than a year old, because within a year the value of some books, if they ever had any, has quite disap-peared. Time is so precious and life is so short that when you do read a magazine be sure it i~ Worth-while. One way to insure the right sort of reading is to have it conven- Januar~t, 1954 RE!~DING FOR RELIGIOU~ iently at hand. We have said a great deal, in writing for lay folk. about the "book at the elb0,w." When we have a few moments to spare, we are not likely tb'go very far for what we reid. Rather, we pick up the book oh' periodicM that is nearest and begin to read it. Hence, to have good books and periodicals at hand is a great step towards getting them read. On the other hand, to keep worthless and trivial literature at a distance i~ the' best way to avoid wasting the precious moments we have for reading. The publishers, whether of books or magazines or newspapers, know this principle well, and they act:upon it to get their publica-tions bought and read. Wherex~er we turn, we see newsstands, book departments in stores, book and magazine counters even in drug-stores. It is the easiest thing in the world to pick up one's reading matter from all these sources, wherever we go. Henc.e, even into the Catholic home there pours a flood of best sellers and of popular magazines and newspapers which carry the world and the flesh into the sacred family circle. People wonder why they have so many distractions ~nd temptations, why their thoughts are often so trivial, why they dwell so little on th~ things of God and the interests of the Church. The reason is that they are victims of the powerful and ceaseless propaganda of high-salaried circulation managers and book agents. "'Dieting" Required Even into religious institutions some of these worldly and often- 'tainted publications find their way, and they are dressed up and flavored so as to deceive even the elect. But the poison for the soul is more deadly than that which ~nly affect~ the body. And, after years of reading these worldly publications, even religious need a strong antidote to keep them firm in faith and hope and love. It is hard and sometimes trying to .confine one's reading to what is best and noblest. Yet it is the o,nly reasonable course for a reli-gious to take. So also it is difficult at times for those who have to go on a reasonable and normal diet in order to preserve their health to keep strictly to what the doctor orders. In the one case as in the other, the reward is great. It is good to be healthful and vigorous, well nourished and of normal girth of body. But it is still" a hap-pier thing to be clean and strong of spirit; to have a mind, a heart, a will helped and nourished by a great faith, a burning hope, a vig-orous charity. Our conscious life of the mind is made up of a succes- EDWARD F. GARESCHI~ sion of thoughts, memories, impressions. If these are pure and joy-ful, holy and clean, then our life itself is so, because our thoughts color our days and bring them their sunshine or shadow. The ino ward life of thoughts, of will, of motives and desires is what makes us happy or unhappy, and we cannot readily perceive how much this is affected by what we read. ~,rhile thd religious ponders these things for his ownspiritual good and inner happiness, his charity will make him desire to help others also to choose well what they rea'd. ~vrhen you conceive an enthusiasm for a good and holy book, y.ou will be able to recom-mend it to others with more genuine interest, x~rhen you yourself choose your reading wisely and well, you will have more influence on the laity and even on your fellow religious to promote good reading. SPECIAL PUBLICATIONS We have received, with the compliments of The Most Reverend John Mark Gannon, Bishop of Erie, a beautifully bound and printed volume entitled l~VIemoirs¯ --The Semlrlarg 01: Montezuma. It contains the documents and writings of Bishop Gannon, Chairman of the Bishops' Committee for Montezuma Seminary, and of. his episcopal associates. The volume was prepared by The Very Reverend James M. Powers, Director of Charities in the Diocese of Erie. The book has not been placed on the market at this time; the present limited edition was subsidized by Bishop Gannon. This story of superb American Catholic charity which con-. tributed upwards 9f $1,500,000 to the education of Mexican priests, and of the seminary which to date has trained some 770 priests for the ministry in Mexico deserves wider dissemination. Cahiers de dosdphologie is a new periodical founded l~y the Research and DocL umentation Centre at St. Joseph's Shrine, Montreal. The Centre, which was estab-lished 'a few years ago, purposes to collect microfilms and publicatlons on St. Joseph and to promote various kinds of research, "to foster Josephology." It will be p.ublished twice a year. Price in American countries: $2.50 per year: $1.25 per copy. Address: Centre of Research and Documentation, St. Joseph's Shrine, Mon-treal 26, Canada. San Juan de la Cruz: Valor Psicologico de s& Doctrina, by Ft. Victorino Capanaga de San Agustln, won first prize among all the competitive works sub-mitted to the Spanish Universities on the occasion of the fourth centenary of the birth of St. John of the Cross. This study of the psychological value of St. John's mystical doctrine contains a long introduction, a section on the "structure of the soul," and a final section on "mystical phenomena." We received it from: Imp. Juan Bravo, 3, Madrid, Spain. No price given. 34 Aurelian Spiril:ualit:y Sister Mary of Carmel, R.P.B. [EDITORS' NOTE: The institute of the Sisters Adorers of the Precious Blood was founded at St. Hyacinthe, Quebec, by Mother Catherine Aurelia in 1861. It is a contemplative institute and should be distinguished from the Sisters Adorers of the Most Precious Blood, an active congregation. The present article concerns the con-templative institute, which has monasteries in Canada and the United States, as well as in Rome, Cuba, and 2apart. A monastery flourished in China until it was suppressed by the Com.munists. The mother house for the French-speaking section of the institute is at St. Hyacinthe: for the English-speaking section, at London, Ontario. ] BECAUSE of the centuries of Christian thought behind its intro-duction into the schools of spirituality, the teaching of Mother Catherine Aurelia of the Precious Blood, embodied in the Rule of her institute and in her writings, is enriched with the spiritual treasures of these schools and influenced by them, while presenting and maintaining individual characteristics. It hol~ls a reflection of the dignity and glory of its elder brothers and sisters in the history of the Church and from its lowlier place among them radiates a new light. If it is young in its almost one hundred years of existence, it is old in its devotion, the Precious Blood. This devotion extends to the age of the Apostles. Saint Paul writes of it in a sublime manner ¯ in his Epistle to the Hebrews, and Saint Peter associates with it the adjective which has become almost a part of the word. "Precious Blood" was written for the first time by the Prince of the Apostles in his first Epistle. The' devotion goes back further, to Calvary and the.sacred Passion of Our Lord, even to Hi~ infancy when, in the mystery of the Circumcision, He shed the first drops of His ,blood. Still further back through the centuries preceding the comii~g of Our Redeemer, His blood was prefigured in that of the sacrificial animals of the Old Law. Father Faber, in his excellent work on the Precious Blood, would take us in contemplation to the ageless now before the creation of the world and show us in his inimitable way the unbe-ginning procession of the Precious Blood emerging from the mind of God. With these ancient and sacred realties arching the edifice of her life of prayer, the Sister Adorer of the Precious Blood has an obliga-tion of nobility. She must be marked with the characteristics of a 35 SISTER MARY OF CARMEL Reoieto for Religious family that posesses an eternal crest--the shield of the Precious Blood of 3esus. In a world of great and worthy exterior activity, in an age of actionists, insignificance lends to the hiddenness of the life of the daughters of Mother Catherine Aurelia.In this they possess a s~trong bond with her and her cofoundresses to whom the Most Reverend Joseph LaRocque, Bishop of St. Hyacinthe and founder of the in-stitute, could say, "Nothing could surpass, beloved Daughters, the insignificance of your origifi . " Influences~ In the direction of Monsignor 2oseph Raymond, later to become cofounder of the Sisters Adorers of the Precious Blbod, we.find the earliest and the most prolonged notable influence on the soul of Aurelia Caouette, latdr Mother " Catherine Aurelia of the Precious Blood. The importance of that influence is brought before us in the wo~ds of Bisfiop 3oseph LaRocque which he spoke to the members of the community shortly after Monsignor Raymond's death' on the feast of the Precious Blood in 1887. "My. dear children," said the founder, "read the writings of your Father who had such great zeal for the sanctification of your souls; you will find therein the sub-stance of his piety and his heart." While still very'y~ung, Aurelia Caouette received, in the words of Saint Catherine of Alexandria, the inspiration which was the first indication of her vocation in life: "I feel in my soul all tl~e energy of tfae Divine Blood. It is a generous Blood which aspires o~ly to be shdd." In the fact that she was a tertiary in the order of Saint Dominic can'beseen the.,early influence of the Dominican Rule on her soul-li~e. Her attraction to the great Dominican, Saint Catherine of Sienal remained with her throughout the futhre years, although it is possible that the saint's outstanding devotion to the Precious Blood was its power. A Carmelite influence may be found in the modified similarity of the cloistered life of her spiritual daughters to that 6f their eider sisters of Carmel and in the blending of austerity with the lighthear~e~lness and joyful gaiety characteristic of Saint Teresa of Avila. That the spiritu.ality of Saint Ignatius of Loyola notably affected that of. Mother Catherine Aurelia and her spiritual datighters IAny" influences which came to the foundress in an e'xtraordinary manner have been omitted. da.nttary, 1954 AURELIAN SPIRITUALITY ! is evident. In chapter three of the Rule, which treats of mental prayer, we read, "The Adorers will therefore apply themselves with the greatest diligence 'to this holy exercise using principally the method o,f Saint Ignatius of Loyola." Here it is well to emphasize that, contrary to a general misinformed opinion, the "'method" of Saint Ignatius is not a set mould depriving the soul of that liberty of spirit in .which God delights; and to safeguard the religious against this error, she is cautioned: "Undoubtedly when the Holy Spirit makes His Divine operations felt in the soul, instructing ~nd directing her, she has only to abandon herself to the attractions and impressions which He communicates, without restricting herself rigorously to a method.': AlWays concerned with the prayer-life of the religious, the insti-tute provides advice for all. The beginner is encouraged by this prac: tical directive: "For the use of persons unable to meditate easily, Saint Ignatius toward the end of.his Spiri.tua.1 Exercises proposes three ways of praying appropriate to the dispositions and cap, ac.ity of those lea~t accustomed to prayer." There follows a detailed expla-nation of these in an extract from the Spiritual Exercises by Bel-licius. And through t'he pages of her Spiritual Directory, the Adorer is. guided in her conduct to the h.eighlts of contemplation, should God favor her with this gift. It is worth noting the co'nclu.din~ sentence in this section: "The soul should commit herself with docility to the direction of a wise and enlightened man and faith-f. ully obey him." The importanc~ rightly attached to the particular examen by the founders and foundress of the Sisters Adorers of the Precious Blood marks a further influence by the Saint of Loyola. An echo of his military strategy is held .in "Experience never fails, to prove these happy results in favor of souls who. make good use of the arms and method of the particular examen." The annual retreat is also to be made, as far as possible, after the method of Saint Ignatius. Lastly it is interesting to note that the Ignatian influence affects not only the prayer-life of the Adorer but extends to all her 'em-ployments: "No matter what employment is given her, she shows neither sadness, discontent, disquiet nor unhappiness." Saint Ignatius regarded all things as means to the glory and service of God, and the daughters of Mother Catherine Aurelia are urged to become ac- 37 SISTER MARY OF (~ARMEL Review for Religious quainted with¯ this holy indifference as it was understood by Saint Ignatius. The reciprocal influence of Bishop LaRocque and Mother Cath-erine Aurelia, founder and foundress of the institute,.is summarized in the words which he used when distributing the Rule books to the young community: "I must present the first copy to your Mother Foundress, as the representative of the whole Institt~te, of which she is truly the Mother, as I am the Father. I could have done ¯ nothing without her, as she would have done nothing without me." These lines also evidence the submission of the foundress, who penned the following excellent tribute: "O Father of our religious life, what do we not owe thee for the past! What do we not owe thee for the future--for the doctrine, the spirit you have left us: for the blessed pages that your hand has traced for us." Essential Principles The essential principles which gave birth to Mother Catherine Aurelia's requirements of her spiritual daughters, as found in the Rule and customs and in her writings, are worthy of consideration. There was a definite sense of balance evident in the outlook of the foundress. We can remark this first in her conception of God as holy and merciful. Her realization of His holiness is emphasized in her imposition of adoration and reparation as prima~y duties: and the religious are invited to represent to themselves the greatness, the pow.er, the infinite.majesty of God and their own misery, extreme in-digence, and profound baseness as motives for remaining annihi-lated in the divine presence. God, Who is infinite holiness, is out-raged by the sins of mankind, and Mother Catherine Aurelia calls upon her .daughters to make reparation and, as it were, places in their hands uplifted in prayer the expiatory chalice of the Precious Blood. The infinite mercy of God gives confidence to the religious of the Precious Blood in their intercession for sinners; and day after day, year after year, they plead for them, untiring in their ceaseless quest for souls. How could their efforts wane, with these words of their foundress and leader echoing in their hearts: "Beloved virgins, I conjure you to be holy! To become so, fix your feet on the rock of Calvary. It is ~here you will find the swiftness of the stag in order to run to the conquest of souls without ever deviating from the path which God for this purpose has traced out for you. It is there you will find the strength to fight valiantly and generously. For your 38 ,January, 1954 AURELIAN SPIRITUALITY armour you will have prayer, penance, separation from the world and the mortification of your body, heart and soul." Participating in Mother Catherine Aurelia's conception of Christ, her spir.itual daughters regard Him principally in His charac-ter of Redeemer accomplishing redemption by the shedding of His blood. Each day at the moment which marks the time of His death on Calvary, the religious, prostrate before Him, say: "Jesus has shed all His Blood for love of us and died on the cross. Let us adore Him and thank Him." The approach to Christ is one of reverence and of confidence, from which emanates desire. The intensity of that de-sire bursts forth in sincere efforts to bring to souls the fruits of the Precious Blood shed so fully for all. Christ, the High Priest, by His own blood obtained for us an everlasting redemption, as Saint PauI tells us. In her Rule, in the conferences of her Father Founder and in the counsels of her Mother Foundress, the Sister Adorer of the Precious Blood is invited to regard Christ as her Spouse also, "united with Him no less by sentiments of tender love and persevering piety than they are closely and especially consecrated by the Vows of Religion." Mother Catherine Aurelia's outlook on human nature was a recognition of its potentialities. She saw ir capable, as it is, of op-posites-~ its power to sin, its power to love God. She beheld the sublime possibilities of the human soul aided by grace, never effaced by the greatness of sin because of the power of the redeeming Blood ba treasure of which the Adorers are, in a sense, administrators in the interests of those who are not of the perfect age of grace, retarded by ignorance, indifference, or sin. "By dwelling on creatures the mind is kindled into loving divine goodness. For all the perfections scattered throughout thff universe flow together in him who is the spring of all goodness. If therefore the goodness, beauty and freshness of creatures so draw our hearts, how much more then God who is their source? Creatures are but rivulets, he is the main stream.''~ Thus teaches Saint Thomas Aquinas, and these dispositions towards created things are evident in the writings of Mother Catherine Aurelia. She was conscious of the beauty of nature. By it her thoughts were lifted to heaven and to the omnipotence of God, not to creatures, for even in the most per-fect of them she found inadequacy. 2Thomas Gilby, Philosophical Texts, n. 127. 39 SISTER MARY O1~ CARMEL Review [or Religious' _Perfection Having briefl~r considered these conceptions, it is interesting to observethe ideal ofperfection as it is understood by the members of the.community, an ideal handed down by the founders and fdundress. For their, spiritual daughters, perfection consists in ui~ion with God. They know that religious perfection must built on the foiafidation of Christian perfection'; that all Christians share the obligation to fulfill our divine Lord's command, "Be you therefore perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect"i that the duties coinmon to all the followers of Christ are to b~ fulfilled according to on'd's st~ite with intensity and exactitude. A )eligious must direct ti~i steps tothe perfection of love and in this consists the genera!. spi~!t Of the ~eligio'us state, while she must possess also the particular spirit of her community. For contemplative religious this consists in the" striving after, advancing in, and perfecting of the interior life and:in the faithful dbservance of the rules and constitutions of her c6fiamuni~y. 'Saifit Paul has saitl, "This is tl~e will of God, yotir' Sandtification."" The daughter of Mother Catherine Aurelia might v~ith all truth say, "This, my Rule, is the Will of God for me, the means of my sanctification." The. Rule is not mere letteri It is spirit too. The latter gives life and love and meaning to the former. Destiny In the preface of her Rule, the religious is given the glorious des-tiny. of the community--to retrace and reflect, as much as possible, the imag~ of the divine charity in the shedding of .blood. Christ loved His Father in a sublime act of reparation; He.loved mankind in offering to men redemption by His blood. The heart, of the re-ligious must b~, as it were, a replica of the love-filled heart of Christ, offering that-love in which hers is immersed by her fidelity to the obligations she has embraced. Her love for her fellow beings' com-mences in the cloister and reaches out to embrace the world and be-yond. Mother Catherine Aurelia, in the burning desire of her heart, had said that she would like to see the words, "Charity, Union ~nd Concord," written in letters of gold on the wails of all her monas-teries. That was a symbolism of her desire that the perfection of charity be inscribed in the thoughts, words, and deeds of all of her spiritual daughters in their associations with one another. The Crucifixion of Our Lord is the most silent and the most tre- 4O AURELIAN ,SPIRITUALITY mendous "I love y6u" ever known. It is a divine love song Written to the rhythm of blood softly falling from "His great wounds. What an exalted ideal of love is set before the religious! She must bring to souls the fruits of Christ's sacrifice--sanctification and salvation. In doing so she must, as has been stated, retrace and reflect as much as possible the divine charity. Her day is the Passion! Its dawn finds her prostrate in union with.Jesus in the Garden of 0lives. At dusk she is in hdoration of Jesus Christ in the mystery of His death and burial and in adoration of the eternal repose which God takes in Himself. How can she be happy with the weight of divine sorrow ~on-stantly within her? This is one of the delightful paradoxes of our holy faith. The daughter of Mother Catherine Aurelia experiences the indescribable happiness bf union with ~he Beloved. Than this, no greater happiness can exist on earth. Moreover she hag the flap: piness of proving her love by participation in His desires, His suf-ferings, and His sacrifice. She has the enviable certainty of knowin~ the willof the Bdloved at each moment of her life and in Him the strength to fulfill it. She enjoys the contentment of doing what she desires to do upon earth in following her ~tocation and has the well-founded hope of continuing in the perfection of her vocation of adorer thrqughout a joyous eternity. The silence of the divine charity which she endeavours to reflect is in her seclusion from the world and, in the cloister, more inti-mately in the hi.ddenness of her life with Christ in God. Particular Ends Sharing the common end of all contemplative religious, the Sis-ters Adorers o~ the Precious Blood have four special ends. (1) To render repeatedly their loving homage to the ~dorable blood of God made Man, poured forth for the sal3ration of the hu-man rude. "To adore[ Ah this is her unique element on earth," Mother Catherine Aurelia had written of each spiritual daughter, and her loving homage is a homage of adoration. Her whole life. is constituted to attain this end, and the means are prudently presented to her in her Rule and hdr Spiritual Directory. (2) To glorify and honor in a particular manner Mary Im-maculate in her Conception. This is a complement of the aim Of her religious life. Seven years after the proclamation of the dogma of the Immaculate Conception fell from the lips of the Sovereign 41 SISTER MARY OF CARMEL Revieu~ [or Religious pontiff, young Catherine Aurelia and her cofoundresses assumed for themselves and for all generations of their .religious community the joyful obligation of paying special homage to the Mother of God in the exalted privilege of her Immaculate Conception. Long years before Our Lady came from heaven to the Cova da Iria to appeal to all her children to be mindful of bet heart, the foundress appealed to her religious to take their delight in that pure heart, urging them to learn how the holy Heart of Mary takes her greatest delight in the privilege of her Immaculate Conception. Through the Immaculate Virgin we have the Precious Blood. In view of the sbeddlng of the Precious Blood, Mary was given the privilege of immaculacy from the first moment of her conception. It is a necessity that the one devotion be associated with the other. Into the dovecote of Mary's Immaculate Heart, Mother Cather-ine Aurelia placed her daughters. She enkindled in them a courage .which cfin come only in having M~ry Immaculate as their co-worker and mediatrix, "that her daughters might be strengthened. To what purpose? ". to work for the glory of the Blood Divine!" (3) To assiduously adore Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament of the altar. "Assiduously" gives to the religious some idea of the in-tensity of the adoration expected of her. It must be a painstaking, persevering adoration. She is in the presence of the Blessed Sacra-ment many times in the course of the day; but in the moments which constitute her hour of adoration of ,lesus in the Blessed Sacrament, her obligation is more specific, more personal; for then the entire community is depending on her to fulfill in a direct manner in its name the third principal end of its existence. It is then that she is expected to accomplish the desire of ~lesus by offering His blood and with it to unite the offering of her entire being for His service and glory. (4) To devote themselves (as victims), if God will accept them, and continually offer to the Lord the merits of the blood of Jesus Christ to obtain the conversion of sinners. It may be noted here that the Holy See cancelled the expressions "victim," "immolation" in the Rule and Spiritual Directory; and in keeping with the spirit of this directive the Sisters themselves changed the dialogue in the cere-monial of profession. However, since it is evident that Rome did not object to the idea of complete self-giving which the founders in-tended by such expressions as "victim" and "immolation," the founders' writings are kept unchanged. 42 danua~/, 1954 AURELIAN ~PIRITUALITY "Many souls go to Hell because there is no one to make sacrifices for them." These words of Our Lady of Fatima remind forgetful mankind of the fecundity of sacrifice and of our duties towards our fellow beings. Meditation on them will bring a realization of the saneness of this particular end of the vocation of a Sister Adorer of the Precious Blood and of the necessity of this purpose. Because many do not make their share of sacrifices for sinners, there must be others who will assume the responsibility of filling up what is wanting on the part of the human race. The indifference, ingrati-tude, and sinfulness with which the Precious Blood is treated, the want of respon.se .to divine love, urge the daughter of Mother Cath-erine Aurelia to embrace her vocation as a reparatory soul, and over and dyer again she is reminded of this by her holy founders and foundress. She "offe.rs herself in union with Him, her.Model, and her Spouse of Blood." The merits of that blood are ransom which she offers for the conversion of sinners. F.rom.her fidelity to this purpose of her vocation emanates a consolidation of true interests, a solidarity which strongly unites her to her fellow creatures through-out the world although she is exteriorly separated from them by the nature of that vocation and the sacrifices she has embraced. Suffering Suffering is inseparable from man during his sojourn on earth. His attitude towards it affects his endurance of it, for endure it he must. A burden willingly assumed is a lighter burden. Mother Catherine Aurelia regarded suffering as an opportunity. Every occasion of it was grasped avidly because she had a true sense of its value. Her Redeemer and Spouse had taught her this and her life was a testimony of her appreciation of the cross. She called her spiritual daughters "Virgins of Calvary" and referred to sufferings as their jewels. To a woman, jewels are precious because of their value, and they are an adornment. See, then, what sufferings are to the Adorer of'the Precious Blood! They are not depressing, some-thing to be avoided. They are a precious adornment. Just as the wounds of Jesus are an eternal, glorious proof of His infinite love for us, sufferings willingly accepted are,. to the daughter of Mother Catherine Aurelia,' so many opportunities of imitating her Spouse, of making her like unto Him, and of testifying her love--small wounds indeed compared to the great wounds of Christ, and often,hidden; but wounds, nevertheless, telling Him of her responding love. On SISTER MARY OF (~ARME~L Review [or Religious the occasion of taking her departure from a daughter-house of her community, the foundress said, "I leave happy in the thought that we are going to suffer and' to suffer much." This was not an atti-tude occasioned by an isolated circumstance, but it was her constant regard for the cross. Labour "St. Thomas considered the contemplative life, to which are added exterior Works, the most useful and meritorious. This life is yours, for though contemplatives, you have your hours of work ac-cording to the Rules and obedlence. Thus wrote Bisl~op LaRocque and thus, too, did Mother Catherine Aurelia regard labour: "Wholly penetrated with sentiments imbibed from the pious ex~rcises of prayer, of Mass and of Holy Communion, the Sisters will each morning take up with holy joy the yoke of labour and observanc.es truly crucifying. They will submit thereto like humble sinners, dbing eveiytbing' in a spirit of expiation, and to accomplish the special end of our Institute, which is to save souls, not only by player but also by work, which our blessed Father Founder regarded a~ one of our principal penances." Again, Bishop LaRocque im-posed labour upon the members of the community as a compensation for the austerities of the great religious orders. A thirst for fruitful penance was expected of his spiritual daughters. This is to be satis-fied by the joyful acceptance of the work allotted to them; a gen-erosity in assisting the overburdened; a peace, calmness, 'and gravity in the performance of their ta~k~. The horary of t'he. community presents a well-ordered" day, gua.rding the hours of prayer from the " intrusion of ill-regulated manual duties, and instilling into the hours of Work the spirit of continual prayer. Glory to the Blood of Jesus . - Glory has been defined as knowledge to which is linked admi~a-tion, as splendour, honour, renown. In these definitions we per-ceive that the "heart-cry" of the daughter of Mother Catherine Au-relia, sincerely accepted, is weighted with a responsibility~a respon-sibility to do all within her power, assisted and enlightened by 'God, to increase her knowledge of the mystery of the Precious Blood; arid as that knowJedge becomes expansive, there emanates a relatively in-creasing admiration, . and the Sister Adorer is filled with the desire to give glory to the blood of Jes{as. It is her duty, as well as her de-sire, to pray incessantly that the Precious Blood may be known; 44 January, 1954 "APPARITIONS" OF OUR LADY loved, and received with ardent faith by all men: It is therefore ob-vious that the plan of Redemption, the Incarnation, the seven blood-sheddings, the Sacred Passion and death of Our Redeemer, and the Blessed Sacrament are subjects for meditative prayer dear to the heart of every Adorer, for in them her knowledge is increased and her zeal animated to radiate from the. confines of her hidden life to souls throughout the world; and for them her supplications become more fervent that their knowledge, too may increase and that fitting homage to the adorable Precious Blood ensue. These dispositions must impregnate each moment of the life of the Adbrer, and the very beginning of her foundress's sublime, "Remember, O my DaughtEr," bursts with startling suddenness into the words that bring an awareness of the obligation attendant on her throughout each moment of her life, "that the cry of thy heart should be, 'Glory to the Blood'," and in this is the unifying and culminating purpose of the varied duties of her particular vocation. The spirit of the community is a challenge that is taken'to, the extent of the individual's understanding and appreciation of the concept!ons of the founders and foundress and to the extent also of her own generosity aided by the grace of God. "APPARITIONU' OF OUR LADY° The August, 1952, number of The Clergy Monthly contains a list of alleged apparitions of Our Lady during the years, 1931-50. The list was first published. by a German magazine in Europe in December, 1951; and up ,to that time only two of the apparitions had been approved by ecclesiastical authorities, whereas four-teen had been rejected. Six were still undecided. Whether any further decision has been made on these six, we do not know. Following is the list as it appeared in The Clergy Monthly: Approved 1932/33 Beauraing, Belgium. 2 boys. 3 girls. 1933: Banneux, Belgium, 1 girl--12 years old. 8 apparitions. Rejected, 1931: Ezquioga, Spain. 2children: later up to 150 "seers." 1937/40: Heede, Westphalia. 4 girls--12-14 years, old. apparitions. 1944: Bergamo, Italy. 1 girl--7 years old.12 apparitions. 1947 : Bouxieres-aux-Dames, Belgium, 1947: Espis, France. 1947/49: Forstweiler, Wiirttemberg. 1 woman. 8 apparitions. 1948: Assisi, Italy. Crowd. A statue of Mary moves. 1948: Gimigliano, Italy. 1 girl--13 years old. More than 100 45 PAMPHLETS AND BOOKLETS 1948: Lipa, Philippines. 1 postulant in a convent¯ 1948: Aspang, Austria. 1 man~61 years old. 1949: Fehrbach, Palatinate. 1 girl--12 years old. 8everal apparitions. 1949: Hasznos, Hungary. Crowd. 1949: Lublin, Poland. Crowd. "Our Lady weeps." 1949/50: Heroldsbach, Bavaria. 4 girls and other children. Many apparitions. Undecided 1945: Codosera, Spain. 1 girl--10 years old; later up to 100 "seers." ¯ 1946: Pfaffenhofen, Bavaria. 1 girl--22 years old. 3 apparitions. 1947: Tre Fontane, Rome. 1 man, 3 children. 1947: Urucaina, Brasil. 1 priest. (Cures.) 1948: Cluj, Rumania. Crowd. 1950: Acquaviva Platani,. Sicily. 1 girl--12 years old. 7 apparitions. PAMPHLETS AND BOOKLETS THE BRUCE PUBLISHING COMPANY, Milwaukee 1, Wisconsin: The Chris-tian Life Calendar, by Rev. Gabriel W. Hafford and Rev. George Kolanda. $1.00. CATECHETICAL GUILD EDUCATIONAL SOCIETY, St. Paul 1, Minnesota: Mary Talks to Us, by Don Sharkey. 15 cents.--The Family Rosary, by Joseph A. Breig. 15 cents. FIDES PUBLISHERS ASSOCIATION, Chicago 10, Illinois: Con[irmation, 25 cents, THE GRAIL, St. M~inrad, Indiana: From Five to Nine, by Bruno McAndrew, O.S.B. 25 cents.--Our Mother, by Emile Neubert, S.M. 25 cents.~ur Lady of the Hermit, by Paschal Boland, O.S.B. 5 cents.--Little Saints, by John and Margaret Moore. $1.50.---Friends Indeed, by Robert Wood, S.M. 15 ccnts.-~Be You Perfect, by Robert B. Eiten, S.J. 15 cents.--The Mass Year. 35 cents.--His Name Is desus, by Julia C. Mahon. $2.00. SCAPULAR PRESS, New York City 16, New York: Life with Mary, by Thomas McGinnis, O. Carm. 50 cents. SHEED AND WARD, New York 3, New York: Are We Really Teaching Relig-ion?, by F. J. Sheed. 75 cents. ST. JAMES FRIARY, Riverton, Illinois: My Spiritual Director, by Ft. Athana-sius Steck, O.F.M. 50 cents. TEMPLEGATE, PUBLISHERS, Springfield, Illinois: A Map of Prayer, by Fr. R. H. J. Steuart, S.J.--The Path of Prayer, by Ft. Vincent McNabb, O.P.-- Contemplative Prayer, by Pete de la Taille, S.J.--The One Thin9 Necessary, by Rev. Bruno Scott James.-~Detight In The Lord, by Fr. Daniel Considine, S.J.-- Fifty Meditations on the Passion, by Archbishop Goodier, S.J.--Wbat Is Contem-plation, by. Thomas Merton, O.C.S.O.--A Treatise on Interior Prayer, by Dom Innocent Le Masson.--Meditations on the Litany of the Sacred Heart, by Juliana of Norwich.--"A More Excellent Way," by Archbishop Goodier, S.J.--Treatise on the Religious Life, by Dom Innocent Le Masson. 35 cents for each booklet. 46 THE SPIRITUALITY OF ST. IGNATIUS LOYOLA. By Hugo Rahner, S.J. Translated by Francis John Smith, S.J. Pp. xvll -I- 142. The Newman Press, Westm;nsfer, Maryland: 1953. $2.75. Although the title does not suggest it, Father Hugo Rahner's purpose in this book is "to present the development of the essential features and history of the spirit; of service in the Church." St. Ignatius Loyola was a man of the Church with an ideal of perfection essentially formed by service in the Church. Hence, the origin of his spirituality provides the author with a concrete ex-a, mple in which to study the development of the essential features of the spirit of service. Each of the three influences that went into the spirituality crystallized in the Spiritual Exercises is considered: first, the influence of Ignatius's family, country, and culture: then, the in-fluence of traditional Christian piety, especially as it reached Ignatius in the Imitation of Christ and in the spiritual readin~ of.his conva-lescence- conversion at Loyola (Ludolph of Saxony's The Life of Christ and Jacopo de Voragine's The Golden Legend); finally, the decisive influence of the mystical illumination granted to the saint at Manresa along the banks of the River Chrdoner. In this experience "Ignatius, the pilgrim and the penitent, was made over into the man of the Church"; here he became aware of how his limitlessly ex-pansive love for God was to be submitted to the service and given form within the visible Church. Turning from the development to the history of the spirit of service in the Church, Father Rahner merely indicates the historical continuity of this spirit by sketching its characteristics in a few key "men of the Church": the first St. Ignhtius, of Antioch (whose name Inigo de Loyola appropriated after his conversion), St. Basil, St. Benedict, St. Augustine ("the greatest of all the men of the Church"), the Sienese Saints Bernardine and Catherine. In this perspective St. Ignatius of Loyola appears as one of the long series of providential figures raised up by the Holy Spirit at critical times in history to re-emphasize the truth that there is no true service of God that is not service somehow in the visible Church. This study is as rich as it is brief. The text reads so easily (thanks to the fully satisfactory translation by Francis J. Smith, S.J.) that one needs to consider the twenty full pages of documenta- 47 BOOK NOTICES Reoietv for Religious tion in order to realize that Father Rahner has given us here nothing but the distilled essence of an immense work of research. All who love "that true spouse of ,Jesus Christ, our holy Mother, the hier-archical Church" will be grateful for the understanding of the spirit of service in the Church afforded by'this book. All to whom Ig-natian spirituality is important will find in Father Rahner's work a most penetrating insight into the meaning Of the Spiritual Exercises. --JOHN FRANCIS CLARKSON, S.,J. BOOK NOTICES REDEMPTIVE INCARNATION, by Albert L. Schlitzer, C.S.C., continues Notre Dame's University Religion Series, Theology for' the Layman. This book covers the matter usually treated under Christology, Soteriology, and Mariology in seminary manuals. The topics are proposed as questions in pleasing imit~ition of St. Thomas Aquinas. In each case the theological sources are cited: Sacred Scrip- " ture, Fathers of the Church, councils, papal decrees--all concluded by a clear statement of the theological development of doctrine. In-cluded at the end of each chapter are review questions and addenda showing the impact on daily life of the truth studied. Differences of opinion among theologians are sometimes indicated but generally not developed. Little space is given to modern speculative develop-ments. Thus the Blessed Virgin Mary as co-redemptrix in objective redemption is barely mentioned and hesitatingly so. No mention is made of human solidarity with Christ in His redemptive "work. Nothing is said of Mary's Queenship. But professors of college re-ligion may very, profitably examine this paper-bound book before selecting a~ text for their classes. It is a theological work, devoted to sources and an understanding of the faith, rather than a mere phi-losophy of religion. (Notre Dame, Indiana: University ~f Notre Dame Press, 1953. Pp. x -t- 337. $2.50). All religious should be interested in PROGRESS IN THE RELI~ GIOUS LIFE, by' Bernard J. Kelly, C.S.Sp. The book is written with the priest-religious in mind, but everything in it is of val,ue to all re-ligious. Father Kelly's basic principle is that the religious life is a call to growth in perfection; in other words, the divine call which brings one to the novitiate does .not stop with the taking of vows~ We are all called to make progress, and the reading of this book will danuarg, 195 4 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS encourage us to answer the call. It gives an analysis of the meaning of progress and then in a very practical way shows how the mature religious can and does make progress through the use of the sacra-ments, prayer, the vows, and the other things that make up the life of a religious. (Westminster, Maryland: The Newman Press, 1953. Pp. 128. $2.50.) BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS [For the most part, these notices are purely descriptive, based on a cursory exam-ination of the books listed.] BRUCE PUBLISHING CO., 400 N. Broadway, Milwaukee 1, Wis-consin. , , The Quest ot: Honor. By E. Boyd Barrett. "Honor," writes the author, "calls for courage andindependence; it demands that a man be indifferent to what people may say or think. Honor is con-cerned about doing what is right, and not about winning p~aise." The short chapters in the' book contain much good advice on how to be honorable. Pp. xi ~ 122. $2.50. Character Calendar. By Sister M. Fidelis, S.S.N.D., and Sister M. Charitas, S.S.N.D. Revised edition by Sister M. Charitas. Con-tains a practical meditation, based on the liturgy, for each day of the year. Pp. viii + 280: $1.85 (paper). The Less Traveled Road. By Rev. M. Raymond, O.C.S.O. A memoir of Dom Frederic Mary Dunne, O.C.S.O., the first American Trappist Abbot. "I have found Him using the Trappist life to form Dom Frederic, and Dom Frederic to form the Trappist life. So I am going to try to give you a glimpse of the divine Smithy at work and to show how He hammers a soul on the anvil of time to shape it and temper it for eternity." This is the author's promise; the book is its fulfillment. Pp. viii ÷ 250. $3.50. Mg Monthlg Recollection Day. A compilation from the spir-itual treasury of Very Rev. William Gier, S.V.D., edited by Bruno. Hagspiel, S.V.D. Contain~ a meditation or conference for each monthly-recollection day throughout the year; also introductory and concluding spiritual thoughts and practices. Pp. x ÷ 177. $2.50. A Rich Young Man. By dohn E. Beahn. A partly fictional story of St. Anthony of Padua. Pp. 250. $3.25. Spiritual Steps to Christmas. By Very Rev. Msgr. Aloysit~s F. 49 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religious Coogan. "A thought a day through Advent to the glory and peace of Christmas morning is the substance of this book." Pp. 116., $2.25. Paul the Apostle. By Giuseppe Ricciotti. Translated by Alba Zizzamia. This author of a fascinating Life of Christ says: "It seemed I should continue for the disciple the work I had done on the Master." The present book shows that the life of the disciple may be summed up in his own words: "Be imitators of me as I am of Christ." A scholarly study, with complete general index and special index of Scripture quotations. Pp. xi -[- 540. $7.50. THE FAMILY ROSARY, 432 Western Ave., Albany 3, N.Y. Father Pettton's Rosary Pra!ler Book. Contains 180 short reflec-tions pertaining to the Mysteries of the Rosary. Material "prepared by a Trappist monk at the request of Father Peyton. Pocket-size, beautifully printed, and well bound. Pp. xxviii+228. $1.00. FIDES, 25 est, rue Saint-Jacques, Montreal, Canada. Principes de Vie Sacerdotale et t~e[igieuse. By the Most Rev. AI-bert- F. Cousineau, C.S.C., former Superior General of the Congre-gation of the Holy Cross. Contains a brief biography and an expo-sition of the spirituality of Father Moreau, the founder of the Con-gregation of the Holy Cross. Pp. 262. $2.00 (paper). FORDHAM UNIVERSITY PRESS, New York 58, N.Y. The Training of Cor~verts. Contains the record of the first mis-siological conference ever held in the United States. Pp. vii -}- 165. $2.00 (paper). $1.50 in lots of ten or more. M. H. GII~L AND SON, LTD., 50 Upper O'Connell St., Dublin, Ire-land. A Guide for Catholic Teachers. By M. T. Marnane. In the Preface to this book, the Archbishop of Dublin says: "This book will show with cogent and persuasive warmth the method by which a Catholic teacher may, while striving for due professional excel-lence, achieve the goal of bringing the mind and will and body and emotions of every pupil into c,aptivity to the truth of Jesus Christ." Pp. xiv q- 164. 9s. 6d. THE GRAIL, St. Meinrad, Indiana. Nothing but Christ. By Killian McDonnell, O.S.B. A.Bene-dictine approach to lay spirituality, designed to help men and wom-en in the world to live a spiritual life according to the spirit 6f St. Benedict. Pp. xiv + 185. $2.00. .50 ,danuary, 1954 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS B. HERDER BOOK CO., 15 South Broadway, St. Louis 2, Mo. General Education and The Liberal College. By William F. Cunningham, C.S.C. The book is the fruit of much thought and discussion on the part of leading Catholic educators in the United States who had worked for more than a decade on the problem of Catholic liberal education. Pp. xvii -}- 286. $4.00. E. M. LOHMANN COMPANY, 413 Sibley St., St. Paul 1, Minn. Large Saint Andrew Dail~t Missal. An entirely new edition of this very popular missal, prepared by Dom Gaspar Lefebvre, O.S.B. It contains the latest Masses; proper feasts for the United States; various feasts kept in some places or by certain religious communi-ties (e.g., St. Maria Goretti, St. Louise de Marilloc) ; larger type for notes, commentaries, and the English text throughout the Missal; the Easter Vigil; etc. Available in same bindings and prices as the previous edition with the exception of the cheapest binding, which is now $6.25 (formerly $6.00). MCMULLEN BooKs, INC., 22 Park Place, New York 7, N.Y. Light on the Mountain. By John S. Kennedy. The story of La Salette, told "with a freshness and charm that will delight all." Pp. 205. $3.00. The Story of Father Price. By John C. Murrett, M.M. This is an abridgment of the author's original biography of the cofounde~ of Maryknoll, Tar Heel Apostle. Pp. 116. $i.50. Come, Holy Ghost. By Bishop Francis Xavier Ford, M.M., D.D. Contains twenty short chapters, each developing some aspect of devotion to the Holy Ghost, especially with reference to one of the invocations of the "Veni, Sancte Spiritus." . Pp. xii -4- 113. $1.50. St. John of God. By Norbert McMahon. The story of the founder of the Hospitallers of St. John-of-God and patron of the sick and the dying. A very readable biography. Pp. 205. $2.75. Jesus, Son of Mar~ . By Most Rev. Fulton J. Sheen. Illustrated by Rafaello Busoni. Bishop Sheen's only juvenil'e; first published in 1947. $I.00. MONASTERY OF THE VISITATION, Wilmington, Delaware. "'The Siloer is Mine." A brief history of St. Joseph's Monastery of the Visitation in Wilmington, Delaware, commemorating the first centenary of foundation from the Monastery of Montluel, France. Pp. xii q- 117. 51 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS NEWMAN PRESS, Westminster, Maryland. ' John the Baptist. By Andr~ R~tif. A study of The Precursor, especially with reference to Scripture and the writings of the Fathers. Pp. x -b 122. $2.50. Wb~ I Entered the CoJ~oent. Edited by Rev. George L. Kane. In the Preface the editor aptly states: "There are scores of helpful books and pamphlets on the subject of religious vocation, but most of these are, of their nature, abstract and general. There seemed a need in vocational literature for case histories to show the applica-tion of the theological principles in specific instances and to manifest the workings of God's grace in individual souls. It is the hope of the authors and the editor that this book will help to supply that need." A random sampling of these accounts by twenty-one Sisters indicates that the hope is realized. A real contribution to vocational litera-ture. Introduction by the Archbishop of Boston. Pp. xvii q- 214. $2.50. PRENTICE-HALL, INC., 70 Fifth Ave., New York 11, N.Y. The Springs of Silence. By Madeline DeFrees (Sister Mary Gilbert, S.N.3.M.). Another story of a religious vocation and of life in the convent, told with simplicity, with delicate realism, with a fine sense for the humorous--without overdoing it or forcing it. Well written, well printed, and attractively illustrated by Hazard Durfee. Pp. x -t- 173. $2.95. FREDERICK PUSTET (20., 14 Barclay St., New York 8, N.Y. Trinitg Whom I Adore. By Dom Eugene V.andeur, O.S.B. The prayer of Sister Elizabeth of the Trinity, with a commentary. Translated from the French by the Dominican Nuns of Corpus Christi Monastery, Menlo Park, California. Pp. xxviii -f- 163. $2.75. SHEED ~ WARD, 830 Broadway, New York 3, N.Y. Shepherd's Tartan. By Sister Mary Jean Dorcy, O.P. A man (meaning the male of the species) has to begin this book by looking up the meaning 6f "tartan." He finds that the